Grad Week

Just checking in to you to let you know this would be Jack's graduation week.

So far, we are doing well, even though it hurts. Andrew is keeping me active chasing after him in this intense heat, Margaret is wrapping up sophomore year, and Tim is busy at work. Tomorrow I am hanging out with another bereaved mom whose son should be graduating as well. We feel a strong kinship as we both lost our sons in freak accidents. We have no agenda. Just support and conversation
during Andrew's babysitter time.

photo credit: doriehowell.com

On Sunday, Father's Day, Tim will board a plane for San Diego for work. It will be his first trip there since his trip with Jack to Legoland.

So, we are doing well. But, as always, we appreciate your prayers and support!

Thanks, Loves.

p.s. When Tim gets back, I'm heading to a blog convention in Orlando. If you will be at BlogHer, be sure to say hi! I'm usually the one holding up the wall or looking awkward.

SocialLuxe Smile Award Nomination!

Just found out An Inch of Gray has been nominated for a BlogLuxe Smile Award at BlogHer this year!

I am so honored that someone took the time to nominate me, and that this blog sometimes makes people smile. Kind of a bummer that my latest post is about the non-smiley topic of grave stones, but if you'd like, please head over to this link to vote for An Inch of Gray.

It's a one click, no sign-up kind of vote, which I consider the best kind. Don't the others just make you feel a little annoyed and exhausted? Maybe that's just me.

Not sure what the Smile Award entails, but considering it is sponsored by Edy's Slow Churned Extra Creamy ice cream, it sounds pretty darn good to me!

Thanks and Love.

Is it Just Me, or is it a Little Hot in Here?

One more little story from BlogHer. Although the hotel provided yummy food, I really wanted to connect with people whenever possible over smaller meals at restaurants.

The opportunity to go to a Chinese restaurant with some of my favorite bloggers and a few new faces presented itself Saturday night. I sat next to a lovely young woman I didn't know. She had long red nails, cascading hair, and a slinky dress. To me she looked Eastern European, vulnerable, and oh-so-young. I went directly into mother-hen mode, hoping to make her feel comfortable being around all of these older, more experienced (a-hem!) women.

Upon introducing myself, I found out she was one of the speakers. At the sex session. Yep, BlogHer held an enthusiastically attended session on sex, or Sex Bloggers, or blogs about sex, or something to that effect. I didn't attend, but I did pass by a table after the session where sponsors were handing out accessories...accoutrements, okay, appliances that related to what was discussed in the session.

I got an eye full, and was quite intrigued to see that one item was shaped like a duck (!) but I admit I skirted the table at a brisk pace. I had the bizarre fear that one of the items would mysteriously jump into my swag bag and I'd have some 'splaining to do back home. "Mom, if this is an electric toothbrush, where's the brush part?"

While I know objects can't leap into tote bags, it reminded me of an irrational fear that would grip me whenever I walked across a bridge as a kid. I'd keep a death grip on my Bermuda bag because I could actually visualize myself involuntarily hurling it over the edge.

Weird, I know. Okay then.

So while there is nothing wrong with having a sex talk at BlogHer, I did not attend the session, I am not super comfortable talking about intimate subjects, I did not pick up any session-related goodies, and here I was sitting net to the BlogHer's resident Sex-pert, in the flesh!

I took a deep breath and asked her how she thought her session went. She told me she wished there had been more time to break into smaller groups according to particular fe*tishes. Dear Lord. "Waiter, more white wine, STAT!"

You see I'm just not a va-va-voom person. I didn't get involved in Pre-marital sex and I'm sorry to say I'm often too tired to get real revved up for During-marital sex. Now before you start giving me advice about what I should have picked up from the giveaway table, let me just say that is not the direction this post is supposed to take. Move along people.

I guess my point is that my sitting next to the sex-pert seems a bit incongruous, or at the very least wasteful. Her Sex-pert-ness was wasted on me. You see, I really didn't have much to offer, and I sincerely did not want to find out any specifics about her hobbies. I know myself, and I know how certain info or images can mess with my brain, even at age 40, so I just didn't want to go there. I remember reading a Vanity Fair article about F*urries a few years back and I'm still traumatized.

In the end, it was a positively lovely evening, and the talk centered around blogging, family, jobs, kids and pretty mild subjects. All of my tablemates were beyond charming, and the convo stayed PG-13.

In trying to wrap up this post I encountered a figurative language FAIL. I was trying to find just the right word picture: "Seating Anna next to the Sex-pert was like putting Ronald McDonald next to Julia Child." Too creepy. "Putting Anna next to the Sex-pert was like putting a paint by numbers next to a Warhol." Not loving that either.

Soooooo, if you can think of a better way to say what you think I think I'm trying to say, I'd be grateful. I may even send you some sort of prize. Just remember what little gift-y I didn't pick up at BlogHer. Sorry.

Weekend Update

Christy, Kate, Anna, Jill

Not quite sure how to sum up BlogHer, but I realize if I don't post something soon, the statute of limitations on all BlogHer-related posts will be long gone.

First, we must remember that the big weekend coincided with a family reunion at my in-laws in CT. While I was devastated to have to miss the the latter part of this gathering (19 people under one roof), it made jumping on a train to the big city quite convenient.

I planned on chronicling my outfits for the whole weekend and sharing with you how much I spent on each (Photo Below: Old Navy shirt: $3, Ann Taylor Pants: $5, both from the thrift shop), but I soon realized it's a lot less awkward to ask my 9 year old to photograph me than people I've just met, so all I've got for you is the train outfit. I know you feel like weeping right now at the loss of a play-by-play wardrobe report.

At check-in, I heard a woman call my name. Although I didn't recognize her, I was filled with gratitude and relief that someone reached out to me. Turns out it was Headless Mom , a 3-time BlogHer alum, and I didn't recognize her because, well, on her blog she's headless. She was warm and outgoing and made me feel at ease right away. She let me stick to her like an STD on Jersey Shore during those nervous-making first few hours. Turns out we're sorority sisters! S-weet!

I became more at ease as the weekend progressed. My roommate Kate, served as Julie McCoy, and as a former meeting planner and all-around delightful person, she helped make an often overwhelming weekend a lot more enjoyable. I believe that without Kate I would have stayed holed up in the hotel room most of the time. There were more than 2,000 women there. That's a lot of noise, luggage, and estrogen even for an extrovert like me.

I was thrilled and grateful throughout the weekend to see that the connection forged by reading each other's blogs is genuine. Thanks to Headless Mom, Christy, Kablooey and others, I now know it takes about 2 seconds to get comfortable with bloggy friends, having shared their joys and sorrows with them on-line.

I must admit I wondered-- would it be awkward meeting big-time bloggers whom I feel like I know? Would I be overly familiar, talking about their children, husbands, and gynos? Would they be mean? I loved meeting Jessica, Marinka, Kelcey, Vodkamom and others. They were just as charming and hilarious in person as on screen. Loved. Loved. Loved them! I pictured us all having a pajama party a la Grease, which somehow did not happen, but I'm proud that I introduced myself and I tried hard not to stalk them all over the Hilton.

A big highlight was meeting my new BFF Jill when she and Christy came into our room Friday morning while I was still in bed. With my bleary eyes (can you say too much white wine on Thursday night??) I thought she was the charming Stacey, whom I'd met before, so I kind of lunged at her, nightgown bunched up around my midsection.

I'm pretty sure, as my high school friend would say, that my "spiders were escaping," so this may have been a tad alarming for a first greeting. Sorry, Jill. Thanks for continuing to hang with me the whole weekend! Stacey, my dear, I'm sure you were glad that when we finally got to see each other, I was fully clothed.

Jill and Anna.

My favorite times were smaller gatherings, at dinners, in the hotel bar, and in the Serenity Suite. I wish there could have been more chances for this, but I also understand that for first-timers like me, the weekend had to build up to that. We needed some structure to give us a purpose and make us feel that we belonged.

I think those who got the most out of the weekend probably set up breakfasts, lunches, and dinners in advance with people they wanted to hang out with. This probably gets easier to do and more comfortable with time. By NOT knowing that many people, however, I was able to meet wonderful new women, and I have a some great new (to me!) blogs to check out.

You hear a lot about SWAG at BlogHer. The whole swag thing left me feeling...meh. I realize now that I spent HOURS in the Expo Hall picking up free samples when I could have and should have been chatting with interesting people.

My kids were not overly impressed by my "haul" and wondered why I couldn't be one of "those Cool Nintendo Mommy Bloggers." Hmmm. The verdict? The swag thing made me feel-- as I peered around trying to see what other people had-- acquisitional and empty. I really wanted to feel relational and full. I mean I was full, but Butterfinger samples are not what I'm talking about. The expo serves a purpose and is a place to go when feeling at loose ends, but it is NOT the highlight of BlogHer. And fancy swag at private parties? Kind of just makes me feel left out, unless I'm invited, in which case, no problemo.

I realized as we went along that what I want more of at a blogging convention and in life are those moments of sitting, laughing and sharing. When my fancy jeans (White House, Black Market: $7 at the thrift store!) are sagging in the crotch, my shoes are kicked off, and wine, friendship and the joy of being a woman and being away put a flattering haze around everyone, laughter happens, and people connect.

For the past 2 1/2 years, blogging has made me feel connected to you, even if it's 2 am here and you are halfway around the world. And because of that, and what I now know, I will no longer need to talk about "In Real Life" friends and "Bloggy" friends. We are all friends, and for that I am grateful.

Shoot! I forgot to tell you about Saturday's dinner. If you'll humor me I have a juicy tidbit for you tomorrow.

Don't Make Me Put on My Angry Eyes

Just rolled into town after the week-long in-law reunion in Connecticut/BlogHer festivities! I missed you!

Feeling tired and dazed and not sure which order in which to write it all down.

How about I start at the end, on Sunday, when I got escorted out of a news stand in Grand Central Station? I assure you that I was thinking of you, dear friends, when I almost got sent to the pokey.

From the crappy caliber of the above photo, you will know it was maybe NOT such a wise call that I skipped the photography class at BlogHer in order to sleep off some wine, take a long shower, and spend a little alone time time with The Book Thief.

I was trying to get better shots for you, when the assertive news stand lady made me cease and desist. "No picture! No picture in here! Lady, you go now!"

Not sure whether she took umbrage with the fact that I thought it was hi-lar-i-ous to label a rack of the following titles: Doll Advertiser, Doll Collector, Watch and Clock, Classic Cars, Cigar, World War II Vehicles, and possibly Urology Today "GENERAL Interest," or whether she thought I was some kind of security threat.

I'm guessing she wanted to nab me before I could fulfill my diabolical plan of photographing as many magazine covers as possible. Then, instead of leafing through my book on the train to CT, I could just scroll through my view finder and learn whatever my heart desired about Origami, German U-Boats and archeology, or at least what could be found on the covers.

I can't wait to write more, but let me just say my week away was filled with family, new and old friends, and fortunately, no jail-time.

A Splotch of Gray

Okay, it's time to discuss the outcome of Tom's coloring my hair last night.

The results were mixed.

On the one hand, it was fun. We laughed a lot and it was a very intimate act. I mean, I don't remember feeling that close to him since, well you know... he picked the nits out of my hair .

On the other hand, he missed a few (big!) spots. His advice to me upon inspection, "Well, it looks like you'll have to do a comb over."

Certainly not words I thought I'd hear in my lifetime.

And in less than 2 weeks I'll be at a big blogging convention, which kind of sort of seems like the closest I've been to a prom since 1987. And while I won't have a date trying to deflower me in the back of his grandfather's Town Car, I will have some pretty pressure-filled moments as I try to hang with the big guys (er, girls).

I mean, I don't know half of the hip bloggy jargon and my real goal is to drink wine with people I have admired from afar rather than trying to do anything fancy to my blog.

I have some other issues, in addition to the comb over, that will not be working in my favor at this convention:

1. 5 lb summer weight gain. This may be as a result of canceling our pool membership, thus alleviating any pressure I've felt to fit into a swimsuit.

2. Going straight from my husband's family reunion in CT to the convention. Let me paint a little picture for you: 18 relatives, 1 week, 1 house. By the time I get to NYC I may very well have lost my mind.

And at my in-laws I think we may have been downgraded from our traditional twin beds. Not that my air mattress under the ping pong table won't be restful, but I have a feeling Psycho Anna will show up early and often. My mental state might not be the best for meeting new people.

3. The anti-humidity hair treatment appears to be wearing off. I fear I'll be like Cinderella at midnight when I turn into a big-haired pumpkin on 5th Avenue. Hello? August? In New York?

4. Due to much stellar planning, I have arranged to be on Day 1 of my period at the convention. This will ensure that I am a zitty, semi-comatose ferret, better suited to curling up with my friends Ben and Jerry in a fetal position than hanging with the cool girls in high heels and halters. Also, on Day 1 I can't drink alcohol without feeling sick, so there's that.

When I try to explain to Tom why I spent hundreds of dollars to watch Lifetime movies by myself in a New York hotel room while everyone else was out having fun, I don't know what I'll say...Nah, after almost 20 years with me, he'll think that sounds about right.

5. Additional 5 lb weight gain. See #4.

So, that's about it.

So if you are in NYC the first weekend in August, please take pity on me and come up and introduce yourself. I promise I won't bite. I mean, that may be what I do when I'm PMS-ing, but you will have just missed it.

Who knows? If you hang out with me, maybe we'll have a celebrity sighting like the last time I hit the big city.

Random Musings of a Lame-o Luddite

I am feeling scattered. I keep thinking I'll write a coherent post, but a couple of times lately I haven't even been able to successfully put my user name and password in to access my blog. Seriously. I keep screwing up.

I have so many passwords for so many things, all with slight variations, that I'm feeling overwhelmed and irritated by the whole concept. 2 work emails, 3 work programs with passwords, blog, blog email, personal email, craigslist, PTA, Lands End, and numerous on-line shopping sites.

I'll say "numerous" rather than "countless" because by golly they CAN be counted, I just don't care to. Have I told you how much I hate it when people say "countless" when it is not true? "We took COUNTLESS trips to Disney when I was a kid." Really? Well, maybe your Dad was Mr. Drummond or something (RIP Gary C.), but if you grew up in my house you would have been able to count how many times. Geez.

Yes, I'm irritable.

Tom and I tried to register for YouTube so we'd have more parental control of content, especially comments. It kept saying we already had an account associated with our email. By the time I'd tried the 10th configuration of my name, my emails, and other info, I couldn't even remember who I was anymore. We gave up. Sheesh. Now the kids are going to be able to read Nas-ty comments about that Justin Bieber guy because their mom can't figure out how to turn them off.

When my friend Kate emailed today to ask if I was excited about attending this huge blogging conference, BlogHer, in NYC in August, I was feeling more frustrated and intimidated than anything else. One of the registration emails (yes I needed a password to register) said to make sure to bring all the right power cords for your "many" electronic devices.

Eeek.

I'll pretty much have myself, my camera (good news on that front!*) and a cell phone. I'm afraid I'll be so out of the loop with all the texting and twittering and goodness knows what else going on that I won't know how to hook up with anyone. And by "hook up," I mean connect, not what we meant in college circa 1990, which had a lot of latitude in meaning anyway, at least on my campus. Seriously, if you are going to BlogHer, I am not looking for more than friendship-- promise!

But really, what are my blogging friends going to do? CALL ME? I don't even know if that's "done" anymore. And my phone has been stuck on silent for a few weeks, so I'll probably miss out even if I'm deemed worthy of a call. Maybe silent mode isn't the end of the world at BlogHer, but it did kind of suck a few weeks ago when my kids were at school with projectile diarrhea and I didn't hear about it in time to be of any help.

And to make matters worse, I pulled out my phone at a game the other day and my friend Amy said, "Oh my gosh! My MOM has that same phone." She seemed pretty amused so I said, trying to be funny, "How old is she, like EIGHTY?" "No, Eighty-Eight." Sheesh. Turns out she finds the phone helpful in her ASSISTED LIVING HOME because it's so basic.

At BlogHer, I pretty much pictured myself going to a few key-note addresses, tuning out all the techie and advertising info, meeting blogging friends in real life, and eating a lot. Maybe even reading a book. But now I'm guessing that's not how things go down with it being a BLOGGING convention and all.

Speaking of books, I bought the book "The Thirteenth Tale" at the thrift shop and started reading it last night. By page three it was seeming mighty familiar. Yep. I've read it before, and I don't mean back in 10th grade, more like last year. I'm not sure which is worse, that I couldn't remember having read it, or once I realized it, not really minding reading it twice because I don't remember what happened anyway.

So, I know I had too much iced tea today, and perhaps (cough cough) I'm rambling, so I'll just take my ranting, un-cool-phone-using, lame-o self off your hands now and say see you in a few!



An Inch of Gray News of Note:
The curse of the point and shoot camera has lifted. I went to Jake's baseball game last night and cockily threw the camera in my bag. I know, I know; this was a risky decision. Well, let me just say that a certain kid hit an awesome double that brought in 3 runs, effectively sealing a victory for his team. It was a glorious moment. I didn't actually take any pictures; I'm not that crazy.

There are just 4 days left on our second Well Raising Project! The website is all askew with weird fonts today, not sure why, but if you are considering making a donation to help us meet our goal, please check it out.