tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-364185502021-04-16T22:51:31.095-07:00Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.comBlogger224125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-65081966895233461872013-02-10T18:39:00.000-08:002013-02-10T18:39:34.670-08:00

Where to even begin at this point? This reminds me of when I stopped keeping a diary between the ages of 12 and 16. I imagine it was pretty jarring for my diary to suddenly go from recording my favorite pony names to what I'd like to do to River Phoenix if I had him alone for ten minutes. But, alas this entry had to happen. I tried to quit you, and I. Just. Can't. So, from here on out I vow to

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com178tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-48616072199079761622012-03-27T23:56:00.001-07:002012-03-27T23:56:23.280-07:00

I found Chris' wedding ring tonight.  I lifted the laundry basket and heard it clink to the edge, teetering there a second before falling to the floor. I stared at it, laying there on the carpet. I picked it up and held it in my palm, its weight much lighter than my own heavy platinum band. For me only platinum would do. But, for Chris, white gold was just fine. He would take less so I could

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com80tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-10917163364733676402012-03-26T17:00:00.002-07:002012-03-26T17:01:31.289-07:00

I have this theory. That if I don't just write this one sentence, I may never be brave enough to tell the whole story. Or any story ever again. Right now in my head all roads lead to this sentence. Chris and I are getting divorced. More to come...

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-38254096287713791732011-04-13T09:58:00.000-07:002011-04-13T17:49:31.643-07:00

For my job at Blogher, I read over 300 blogs weekly. And whenever I see a post title of the “On Not Writing” variety I groan. I think, just write already! Your hands are already moving on that keyboard, honey. Tell us a joke! So, this is not about why I haven’t been writing. And this is not about depression. Except that it is. I started blogging almost six years ago, only half of which were

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-86789281497893486492010-12-01T19:46:00.000-08:002010-12-01T19:52:49.931-08:00

This is for the people in my life who keep saying, "but don't you think so? Even a little?".Kate is happy about becoming Queen. I am happy about my hair.You win this round, Kate.

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-65586546056828432472010-11-28T18:50:00.000-08:002010-11-28T18:52:51.420-08:00

I wasn't looking for the diary. I was innocently cleaning out a drawer and there it was. A tan leather bound book entitled "Journal". I casually flipped through it. It was from seven years ago. Savannah, two years old; my marriage, three. I skimmed one page, then another. I sank onto the bed in shock. Absolute shock. I did not recognize this girl, this wife, this mother. Could this really be my

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-74242923367769789952010-08-18T16:48:00.000-07:002010-08-18T17:24:55.987-07:00

I'm working on a post worthy of much applause and fanfare once I figure out what it is. In the meantime, here is the light of my life careening down a sheet of plastic covered in soap. Very possibly the highlight of her summer. Mine was wearing a bag hat on my head after trying to open a wine bottle with a key in New York City. So, I think we're even.photo credit: my beautiful friend, Yvonne*Also

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-17757128483257801262010-07-07T12:06:00.000-07:002010-07-07T12:07:07.701-07:00

I jumped at the chance to interview Julie Andrews for BlogHer. That is, until I was still under the covers an hour before our interview paralyzed by fear with absolutely nothing prepared. Chris finally came in and gingerly laid a list on my pillow of questions he had come up with for Julie Andrews. You know, that he whipped up in addition to his full-time job."I thought you might need some help,"

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-58531856229058744702010-06-10T16:26:00.000-07:002010-06-10T22:31:50.509-07:00

If I were to grade this year so far it would go a little something like this.January: A-February: DMarch: FApril: CMay: BSo, I think I'm riding into summer on a strong C. I wish I could tell you why, but as it turns out there are things that are completely unbloggable. Even for me. But, I assure you, we are over the worst of it and I feel like I'm finally leaving Suckville for good. Also, it is

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-62822924209749084092010-06-02T16:23:00.001-07:002010-06-02T16:23:24.640-07:00

Roses are red Violets are blue I’m going to update this blog. I swear. Tomorrow.

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-12852932054210703432010-03-08T08:29:00.000-08:002010-05-12T14:00:43.568-07:00

I clearly felt I was on the wrong side of the carpet. I don't get out much.All the juicy details this way...

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-89077909951623481362010-02-26T10:53:00.001-08:002010-02-26T10:57:22.288-08:00

OK, I have to make this snappy because I have a busy day ahead of me of moving aka “directing off-duty firefighters where to put my things”. (I love Craigslist.) I’ll be sure to be online today though since yesterday I made the tragic mistake of turning my back on the internet and apparently sent a bunch of DM’s on Twitter saying I was 24 and horny. Which, sadly, isn’t true in either case.

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-53253448847571289632010-02-10T17:26:00.001-08:002010-02-11T14:25:27.986-08:00

I should be packing right now. Or emptying the dishwasher. Or retrieving the corner of the tuna sandwich my cat just snagged from my plate and took under the couch. But, instead I’m going to blow your mind. I hope you’re ready for this. I lost 15 pounds in the last 3 weeks. Seriously. I was a tight 8 and now I’m a 4. Five kinds of crazy, right? Would you like to know how I did it? I’m an

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com90tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-92101694014715997652010-01-26T22:58:00.001-08:002010-05-12T13:51:43.546-07:00

First of all, I just want you to know that Valerie Bertinelli is wearing a shirt I own in the new Jenny Craig ads. From this I can tell you with some authority that 1) Jenny Craig stylists shop Nordstrom Rack and 2) I hate that shirt on me for the same reason Valerie probably does and that’s why she has to have her hands on her hips. So she’ll have a waist. Do with that information what you see

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-68981699174121343502010-01-12T08:59:00.001-08:002010-01-12T16:05:06.827-08:00

It's almost criminal how long it's been since I've written. I promise to do better in 2010. In fact, that is my only New Year's Resolution.Life has been busy. In the sense that most of it has been spent sitting on my couch with my laptop drinking endless Starbucks lattes* and working. So, intellectually busy. (Except for the embarrassing number of hours I've spent playing Mario Brothers** on

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-19412907360597592232009-11-04T17:40:00.000-08:002009-11-04T18:51:41.339-08:00

So. Since I'm a huge blogger I get flooded with emails all the time offering me free stuff.I don't want to brag, but the other day I was offered The Singing Lizard's new CD. And then this other time I was offered 10% off a photo album for ME AND ALL MY READERS! 10%! Like you're only paying 90% (+ shipping)! Imagine what you could do with that 10% of savings (+ shipping)! You could buy that stamp

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-16942092350392466022009-10-21T22:00:00.000-07:002009-10-21T22:05:46.539-07:00

I just returned from the Bay Area.Okay, "just" is stretching it.I returned from the Bay Area last Thursday. But, of course it took me two days to unpack, a day to catch up on my Tivo, a day to accept that the balloon boy was a fake, and then another day to roll my cats around on the floor like fur burritos.I'm pretty sure that brings me to today. Maybe not. I may have blacked out for a time.

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-2364765318055637682009-10-07T10:55:00.000-07:002009-10-07T11:12:13.638-07:00

I know, I know. I've disappeared on you. Off into the ether of YouTube and gossip. But, if you liked it, you shoulda put a ring on it.I have no idea how that applies here. But, I've been wanting to say it for months. You know, to someone other than myself while I do lunges at the gym.And I think by "ring", I probably mean "donut".Speaking of the gym, I've discovered that I sort of love our

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-44126768246182586892009-09-17T08:19:00.000-07:002009-10-01T15:23:46.050-07:00

Last night my 7-year-old daughter told me she "wants to die" because she hates the way she looks.She hates that her "thighs jiggle".She hates that her "belly sticks out".She hates that she's "the biggest girl" in her class.She wants to die and she's seven.I've been waiting for this moment since the day I gave birth to a daughter. The day she inevitably starts hating herself. And here it was.I

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com55tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-74346022680373454632009-09-08T12:15:00.000-07:002009-09-08T12:31:09.262-07:00

We sort of make a big deal out of our anniversary every year. Our entire family gets together at a designated house and we do a ridiculously massive gift exchange (sound familiar? We call it Anniversary-mas). I will share photographic evidence as soon as I figure out how to transfer the photos to my new fancy netbook (Chris? Keep rockin like you do with the kickass gifts.)Anyhoo, this year our

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-58101204185632960042009-08-28T08:30:00.000-07:002009-08-28T13:13:18.701-07:00

This is just going to be one of those stream of consciousness posts because I'm typing through tears and don't want to stop and try to figure out how to make a cohesive thought.Today is effectively my last day of summer with my daughter. My mother is coming to take her until next week when we all get together and do our big anniversary celebration. I realized this as I lay in bed last night. Last

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-45361511943614859382009-08-26T17:45:00.000-07:002009-08-27T22:44:49.142-07:00

Dear Chris,You didn't cry at our wedding. That's always bugged me.I couldn't understand why you weren't so overwhelmed by my sparkling tiara and push up corset, not to mention spending the rest of your life with a goddess like myself, that it didn't move you to tears.Thankfully, you've redeemed yourself throughout the last nine years.How You Have Made It Up To Me, Let Me Count the Ways:Thank you

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-2632393903233200662009-08-21T08:27:00.000-07:002009-08-21T08:37:49.505-07:00

A widely read blogger had the misfortune of being on some asshat's radar the other day when she posted an intensely raw and personal picture of her financial situation. One that included her efforts to seek relief from her steep mortgage payments, among other things.And even after she pulled the post a short time later, the vultures continue to pick at its carcass. Dissecting each photo,

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-85834013461958587072009-08-19T05:03:00.000-07:002009-08-19T05:03:00.281-07:00

I went for a run today.If you can call it that.I have gained 10 pounds that I cannot seem to shed. I've tried everything: thinking about it really hard, making lists, looking at TMZ, baking pies, reading books. Nothing will do the trick! Weird I know.This weekend I decided I was going to get serious about working out. So I told Chris that I was taking up running because how hard can it be? I

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-36418550.post-31457773736670862022009-08-11T10:09:00.000-07:002009-08-11T10:58:29.663-07:00

Percentage of myself that feels 20 minutes on the elliptical this morning does not make up for the asiago bagel and cheddar bacon cream cheese: 0Number of hours I've been at Starbucks waiting to be inspired to write while digesting: 3Number of those hours spent Googling ex-boyfriends and watching singing dog videos: 2.5Number of times I've texted Chris gift suggestions for our anniversary later

Lenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07334552523048470954noreply@blogger.com9