Rebecca, Author at Daily Rebecca

BlogHer Hangover

August 8, 2011

Dizzy. Nauseated. Exhausted.

Even after 11 hours sleep last night, that is how I woke up feeling today. Totally hungover but in the best possible way.

BlogHer ’11 was one of the most intense experiences of my life. It was wonderful and amazing and stressful and overwhelming and enlightening and draining and empowering.

I met incredible women of all ages and backgrounds. I laughed and I cried. I handed out tons of blog business cards and collected even more.

I partied on a rooftop with Mario Lopez. I nibbled on bacon-wrapped grilled shrimp, fresh caprese skewers and succulent beef & blue cheese toasts while taking in the San Diego skyline.

I jetted around the Gaslamp Quarter in pedicabs, noshed on Pinkberry© yogurt and toasted glasses of Pino Noir with new friends.

I loaded up on awesome swag and then gave some away to combat my inner hoarder.

I attended inspiring sessions lead by panels of successful bloggers who were even more amazing women.

I ate delicious lunches with other sisters who, like me, find happiness in plucking laptop keys to unleash the stories in their souls.

I met 3 of my most favorite bloggers (Kelle, Beth Anne and Diana)!

I roomed with 3 of the sweetest girls out there (Erika, Kathleen and Renee) who went from strangers to friends in under 72 hours.

I narrowed in on my goals and discovered what success in blogging means to me.

My definition of blogging success couldn’t be further from what I thought it would be.

The sessions about monetizing my blog and increasing my SEO and Alexa stats made me want to slam my laptop shut and run screaming all the way back to Michigan.

The sessions about sharing my story to connect with others and being imperfect and vulnerable in my posts were the one that got my heart racing and my fingers itching for a keyboard.

I left discouraged about the things I thought I wanted to achieve, but I left encouraged about the places I can go if I follow my heart.

I still feel hungover from the tornado that was BlogHer11. But I’ve pulled back the corner of possibility and now I feel drunk with excitement about what is to come!

Oh, and I posed drunk with a Harry Potter cutout while Edward from Twilight gazed jealously from a distance. Couldn’t leave that part out!

Here are few of the too few pix I took.

(and a couple borrowed from Suz who is a doll for sharing!)

Dress Twins with Suz! (photo credit: Suz)

Rooftop party!

Not sure what the light and dark stripes are all about, but that’s me on the rooftop with good ole AC Slater :)

Diana, Erika and me enjoying Pinkberry© treats. Thanks again Erika for treating us!

New friend Dana who reminded me SO MUCH of my friend Kari!

Me with Beth Anne. OMG!

Me with Kelle. OMG! (photo credit: Suz)

Me, Diana and Erika at the Sparklecorn party.

BlogHer!

August 4, 2011

Well, I’m off to the BlogHer11 conference in about 6 and a half hours.

And I couldn’t have been less prepared had I tried.

I worked late every night this week to make sure all the loose ends were tied up before my trip and because of that (and the fact that I’m an Olympic procrastinator) I did little to nothing to plan for my trip.

Did I plan out my schedule for each day of the conference? No.

Did I figure out the perfect, glittery outfit for Sparklecorn? No.

Did I make a list of everything I’ll need while I’m away? No.

Did I panic tonight at 8:30 when I stopped working and realized I’d be on a plane in less than 12 hours? Yes.

I’ve read a bajillion blog posts about how it’s not about what you wear or how prepared you are it’s about having a great time, learning new things, meeting new people and soaking up the experience.

So, that’s what I plan to do.

Wish me luck!

Saying Goodbye

August 1, 2011

I spent this weekend moving my mom out of my parent’s house into an apartment.

I’m not going to get into all of the details, but after 32 years of marriage my dad filed for divorce.

The past month has been a whirlwind of emotion…anger, sadness, frustration, more anger, more sadness.

Our family will never be the same.

The visions I had of the future with my immediate family will never be realized. All of the Thanksgivings, Christmases, Easters and Birthdays from now on will be completely different from how they have always been and from how I dreamed they might be.

In some ways that’s a good thing. We’ve spent more holidays than I’d like to admit grieving what could have been because dysfunction took over. I tend to only remember the happy holidays though, and for that I’m thankful.

For the most part, my parent’s house was a haven. It was a cozy, cheerful home away from home. Only an hour and a half from the busy city we live in, their house was almost like a cottage for us. Removed from the hustle and bustle of our daily grind, it was so peaceful. Sitting on ten acres of rolling hills.

Scrumptious smells always wafting from the kitchen. Bob Dylan, Paul Simon and Herb Alpert playing on the stereo. Cold beer sweating on the coffee table. Sweet sister sleeping on the giant sectional. Little brother playing the guitar. Mom serving everyone.

Even though I’ve moved more than 25 times in my 31 years, this house still managed to feel like home. I loved wandering around, gazing at all of the familiar knick knacks. Wondering at photos from the past, laughing about junk that was still sitting, unused, on shelves in the basement.

Saturday I drove to that house for the last time. The tires of my car crunched the gravel driveway once more. Petey (the dog) wasn’t there to run out and greet us because he’s too busy being doted on by his new owner (a dog-loving woman who is spoiling him daily at the assisted living center).

I opened the front door and instead of being greeted by sweet smells from the kitchen, I faced stacks of boxes and rolled up rugs.

All of the knick knacks had been packed away. There was no music playing on the stereo.

Everything was different.

I probably should have moved through the rooms saying goodbye, but I couldn’t. I think the reality of what was happening was just too much for me to really let it in. Instead, I stoically formulated a plan for the next day.

What time we would pick up the U-Haul, what order we’d load it up, how we would fit everything in, how to direct furniture once we got to the apartment.

Emotion was set aside for efficiency. I slipped into my role as the responsible one. You see, we all play roles in our families. I’m the one who gets things done. The one who always comes through. Who can handle anything.

Slipping into that uniform was far less daunting than grieving the loss. The loss of a home. The loss of a father.

So, I put my big girl panties on and dealt with it. I ran the moving process like a sergeant. I’d like to think that I was using my skills to be a blessing, but I think the truth might be that it was easier to hide behind my mask of strength than deal with the pain of exactly what was happening.

At the end of the day, mom was fully moved into her new place. Turns out it’s really nice and a perfect fit for her. She’s turning the page and entering a new chapter of life. One that I believe will be full of more joy than sadness and more peace than pain.

God’s got his eye out for her and the future is bright.

Our family will get through this and come out on top.

We’ll spend Thanksgivings, Christmases, Easters and Birthdays in her cheerful new apartment. Delicious smells will stream from the kitchen, familiar tunes will play on the stereo, stories will be told, games will be played and memories will be created.

The road ahead is one full of hope.

< Newer

Older >