Stop calling yourself or your company any term that is associated with “diva,” or “princess,” or even, “queen.” This is especially important when you proudly proclaim you are a diva who started a diva business and you’ve overcome adversity. This is also true if you feature a pink website with sparkles and use words such as, “Go Girls, Go!” Pink doesn’t make us powerful. Sparkles are nothing but an utter annoyance to clean up. Catch-phrases from 90′s girl bands wearing go-go boots, uttering phrases such as: “zig-a-zig-ah,” will only internally-scar those around you. 

The truth is, all of us have battled our own demons and made self-proclaimed “lemonade” in amounts that could hydrate most of Europe. None of us are more special than anyone else simply because we throw a crown on and demand attention. Frankly, the world isn’t here to applaud at what we’ve overcome, that’s our own job and if we are truly authentic, our message resonates with those around us without any glamour, glitz or plastic accessory. That, is the hokey-pokey of life.

When you encourage other women to be, “divas” you simply encourage a myth that crowns make ordinary people better. The truth is, being humble, willing to internally accept your worth and practicing genuine kindness will make you better.  That crown does nothing except provide proof that at any age, you have managed to go back to being 3 years old; stomping your foot and demanding someone hand you a cookie, trophy or media attention. As you can imagine, it only works on other women who feel the need to wear the crown. You’ll see them in circles, self-congratulating each other while wondering even in their lemonade-making achievements, if they truly measure up.

We don’t need crowns, ladies. We need an internal revolution- one that even dares to proclaim without overcoming anything at all, we are just as worthy of love, praise and glory as someone who battled fiercely. Pain is becoming the next million-dollar-yacht and sincerely? I’m over it.

-Me.

(c) Steve Clarke

When we lose someone we love, pain and sadness seem to collide in the days that come after. Inside jokes that were once ours fade into a memory as we are now the champions to hold them tightly and not let go. We are at a war of preservation- to keep the sacred with us always through an unseen thread of insatiable want. We bare our souls, we put on our armor and we protect the only things left with determined strength. This picture from a dear friend,  was taken earlier today after he had started putting the pieces of daily life back together after his wife’s tragic passing. He wrote so eloquently,

“She had a favorite pastry from our local bakery. I would sometimes make a special trip to get one for her.  When I arrive to set up and play with the band, they are typically out of them. This past Saturday, knowing how much she liked them and how much I liked being able to bring one home, they set one aside in its own little box. She never got to have this last one so I took a picture.”

I couldn’t get over the rituals of our daily lives and how a disruption- something as simple as a pastry can bring me to tears. In this box, sits the best of intentions and love from a friend to someone who will always share his heart. He couldn’t bear to eat what the white memorial held, so he placed it- intact on the porch to reflect and acknowledge the end of a ritual and a life. I couldn’t help but sit for a while and stare at the picture.

You see, I had been wrong. Our legacy is truly not what we, ourselves leave behind. Anything tangible will soon rot or fade away. The things that matter are what others carry forward. The memories of who we are are merely perceptions of other’s experiences with us. I always thought I needed to leave something tangible: a known truth I had come to find, or a piece of myself. The truth is, by simply being the best of who we are, we leave the greatest legacy possible.

My friend carries his beautiful wife forward through love and compassion for her legacy. This white box could hold just about anything, whether diamonds, a three-million-dollar check or a black and white photo of times gone by. I’m not sure anything could be more powerful or bittersweet, than an untasted bite of a favorite dish, an unheard note of a sacred song or the missed feeling of a hand that holds yours without anything but love. Surely nothing could be sweeter or sadder than an uneaten pastry.

There will always be the regret that we didn’t have more time. I can’t find anything more touching than creating rituals and traditions in our daily lives to celebrate the love we feel for those around us. My friend’s wife is gone and I am a myriad of emotions because of the sudden loss. Most of all, I’m touched at his gift to her- a legacy that he wasn’t afraid to share or photograph. His reminder that our days are never promised and that we will leave our favorite things behind, reminded me of the crux of humanity- tragically, someday- it ends.

He picked out three songs for her. He’ll play tomorrow when he sees her incomparable face for the last time, (though I’m sure every mark, the curves of her cheeks and beautiful smile are ingrained in his memory for eternity.) He had never thought that she couldn’t hear him, because you see- that’s who this man is. As the notes from his saxophone rise and fall, the symbolic ritual will carry him forward.

I ache for the day when he passes the bakery and so wants to bring something home, see her sweet face and have one more moment. I hope he  knows, that the courage to play these songs inspires those around him. Those simple melodies will reach higher than he could imagine in our three-dimensional lives. She’ll dance in heaven, my friend. Of that, I’m sure.

“I know I was born and I know that I’ll die; the in between is mine. I am mine.”  - Pearl Jam

“It was instantaneous. One moment, I was bemused by the fact that Webkinz lined the front dash of a gigantic, black truck that had merged behind me and the other I was white-knuckled and terrified.”

Tonight, the road south from the office greeted me in a strange mood. I had received an email from a former organization I volunteered for who had all but thrown a friend of mine under the bus. Contemplating why we do what we do, at first I didn’t notice when I was being tailed. Traffic was heavier than usual as I merged to the left-hand lane and proceeded to take off my cruise control and carefully survey the usual onslaught of cut-offs and break lights. I had noticed a truck merging in and out of traffic behind me. I’m all talk on the road. I’ll tell you that, “if they tail me, I’ll just pump the brakes and show them,” but really, I usually merge back over. I drive for two most of the time and when my daughter is in the car, the count of my cargo is three with our soon-to-be-born little boy.

Soon, the female driver was behind me and gaining speed. I’ve often remarked to Ava or John in the car, “whoa, they are following close.” Never have I actually thought, “this person might actually hit me.” I tapped my breaks when someone else pulled in front and either unbeknownst to the driver behind, or for the fact she didn’t care, she crept up even closer. I was sandwiched in and terrified. Not being able to pull over to the right safely, or maintain where I was safely, I drove. I flipped my rearview mirror up so I didn’t have to see her face screaming at me or her hands. In all honesty, I assumed she was intoxicated.

I watched as the person behind me moved back and forth, cutting off whomever- all in an attempt to get ahead. One person actually slammed on their brakes and moved to the shoulder. As soon as I could, I merged to the right and took the exit. Wouldn’t you know, she screeched to a halt to take the same exit. I focused and came to the light as she sped up close enough to touch my car- swerved to the right and then, rolled down her window and screamed at the top of her lungs. “I’m going to get out of this car and kick your ***,” I was a string of names, most of which I pretended not to catch. Then she started opening her door. I pulled out my phone from it’s charger and made sure my doors were locked. The light turned green and I pulled ahead breathlessly and dialed 911. Clearly, she wasn’t done so she followed me and I pulled over to a bus stop and the operator asked what the emergency was. Either sensing I was on the phone or realizing that she actually didn’t want to, “kick my ***” she sped off, (but not after already pulling behind me and screaming more, attempting to get my attention.) I’ve never seen anyone so angry, so quickly.

A police officer called me back when I had already picked Ava up from school and was unloading the day’s trunk load. The driver lived a town away and they were going to go over to her house tonight, he said. He thanked me for calling and said that people don’t report this enough. Next time, she might really hit someone. I told him he might want to review the traffic cams. He asked if I thought she was intoxicated. I truly had no idea. A contradiction of sorts, I never knew the woman’s name, but glancing behind me I had managed to remember her license plate. She became a memory of the combination of six letters and numbers and a bunny with red hearts that looked up at my cheerfully as she was dangerously close.

Tonight, I put my daughter to bed early after six year old arms threw her coveted kangaroo stuffed animal against her door in an attempt to tell me without her usual eloquent words, “Mom I’m angry.” After hearing her cry for a while at being sentenced to kindergarten doom under pink covers with the dusk sunk shining through her windows, I crept in and sat quietly. I told my daughter the story of how I broke a porcelain doll I loved in grade school by throwing her violently away from me in an attempt to grab my mother’s attention. Gasping in between sniffles, Ava said, “I think I hurt kangaroo.” I nodded.

My daughter and I have an understanding. She’s seen me stomp around the house, flailing my arms and raising my voice, truly at my worst. I’ve seen her learning each moment and trying to make careful choices. No matter what we’ve done or left undone, we never go to bed without talking it out. In true six-year-old wisdom she whispered, “I think everyone needs time-outs sometimes.” As usual, who can fight with that logic? I couldn’t agree, more.

Maybe my license plate nemesis had a horrible afternoon. She didn’t understand my inability to pull over with  the cars and judged it as a refusal. Maybe she just spilled something on her blouse on the way to an interview. I’ll never know. I’d like to believe her threats were idle talk, that she’d never exit the car all the way. I wondered for a while how angry she’d be then if someone actually knocked on her door and said, “we received a call this evening…” I’ve never called 911 about another driver before. I’m not sure how these things play out.

My daughter’s sobs have decreased to silence. I’m sitting on the couch and indulging in Velveeta cheese and veggies while kangaroo is beside me and the baby kicks inside. I think we’re all one deep breath away from slamming on our breaks, throwing an object or breaking into heartfelt sobs. The intersection between anger and acting-out has dangerous consequences.

The Star Tribune recently published an article exposing how the Archdiocese has chosen to educate it’s Catholic youth about the marriage and equality issue. Reporter, Jon Tevlin’s words stunned me, even after years of writing of the atrocities I’ve known. I wondered if Tevlin had to find inner peace before typing out the testimonials of those who were there.

“Most people got really upset,” said Bliss. “And comments about adopted kids, I found those to be really offensive. There were at least four kids there who are adopted.” Hannah, who is adopted, said one of the presenters said that adopted kids were “sociologically unstable.” She called the comments “hurtful” and comparisons between gay love and bestiality upsetting. (Star Tribune)

Here I sit, adopted and apparently, “sociologically unstable.” The fingers point as I raise my hand in a single parent solitude and here I go, not understanding that my daughter once again has to hear she is less and I am less and we are all are less for not fitting in the holy, black, box. This isn’t even touching on the LGBT community, because I feel that the Church has completely lost it’s mind and it’s way concerning the love and care for those around people I know- friends and neighbors and family members. NoH8MN was started by Jillian Hiscock and myself, for exactly this reason.

“I don’t write this for myself.  I can handle critics and those who believe that only two-parent families ‘give back’ adequately to our world.  I write this for HER, (my daughter).  I have more passion and more hope in me and my future than an unlimited number of two-parent families. Why?  Because the moment Ava was born, I knew we were destined for greatness.” (Seven, GirlmeetsGeek)

The Catholic Church supports adoption as a life choice when unintended pregnancy occurs. Why they would alienate the very children they claim to speak for with a hurtful label? In all their pro-life marches, they hold signs saying, “Adoption Matters,” and, “We Love All Children.” Do they truly love the, “sociologically unstable,” of us? Those whose mother’s, (like mine,) used Catholic Charities to place me in a home? Are they really pro-life at all? Additionally, you think the church would support single parents for the belief that since we chose to keep our children, (or raise someone else’s child,) that we were too, choosing life.

Leonard Cohen wrote a song many years ago. There are multiple beliefs in numerous cultures that state, once something is broken or different, the whole of everything becomes greater. Hatred and intolerance will never be overcome with violence or anger, this much I know. With each word I type, I’m carefully choosing to try and let it go but still give each thought the importance it craves.

To the Church, I may be “sociologically unstable,” for the mere reason that other people have chosen to adopt me, love me and nurture me into the human being I am today. Those two people who carried me in their arms, (though not their bodies,) sit at the pews of the Catholic Church weekly. I wonder, if the Church could tell my parents to their face that I am less because I am not of them? My blood is of no likeness to what flows in their veins and apparently, that matters to someone who wants to squish us down, until we think so little of ourselves that we are not worried about standing up for others, but rather re-building our own, fragile, egos.

The problem is, this all makes us stronger. As single parents and adopted children, we now have a responsibility to stand up for those bullied- especially in the LGBT community. We are all too big for their boxes, too vast with greatness and too cracked and full of light. Leonard Cohen said so.

“Ring the bells that still can bring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in. You can add up the parts but you won’t have the sum. You can strike up the march, there is no drum.  Every heart, every heart to love will come but like a refugee.” – Leonard Cohen

“This might be the greatest example of inmates trying to run the asylum that I have ever seen. One of those artists, somebody named Rhea Pappas, a photographer, is worried about the ballpark affecting her livelihood. Apparently she teaches a photography class and is concerned that noise and crowds could disrupt her work. You’ve got to be kidding me.” (Pioneer Press)

Rhea’s name in the article made me stand up and take notice of the stadium issue. The moment I met Rhea years ago, I knew I had been privileged to meet someone so brilliantly-gifted that I was humbled at what she had done with a simple pool, models and lighting. Unlike Soucheray, Rhea’s skill and talent hasn’t gone to her ego although Soucheray’s words cut straight to her heart.

The Lowertown community is home to budding artists and established professionals, just like Rhea. The problem is, Soucheray never reached out to Rhea to confirm her suspected connection to Sandy Pappas, (a DFL senator from St. Paul embroiled in the stadium debate.) In fact, he never even investigated her photography, merely stating she was “teaching photography classes.” Soucheray proceeded to slap Rhea in the face by insinuating she was an, “inmate trying to run the asylum.” The stadium is cited to be less than a half block from current residential housing and studio space. We’ve seen this scenario played out just recently with the Lightrail construction on University Avenue and shops like the Caribe Bistro having to close their doors, indefinitely. Artists in Lowertown have reasonable hesitation when facing the construction of a new stadium for another sports team.

I reached out to composer and writer, Justin E.A. Busch Both internationally performed and published and the former president of the Northern Warehouse Artists’ Cooperative, he had eloquent words for the column and attitude of many who marginalize the arts.  ”To be honest, Soucheray’s reputation is well-known to being hostile to the arts. His column was so poorly argued, I think it may end up doing more damage to him than to us, (artists.) Nonetheless, we must always be aware of the possibility of damage done by malicious and false statements based on very limited experience.” I couldn’t agree more.

Rhea spoke of her determination to be heard, not only as an artist, but someone who was wrung out to dry by the Pioneer Press and Joe Soucheray. The rightful frustration that she spoke of, wasn’t about Soucheray’s stance in the article, but his unprofessionalism in refusing to research anything about the issue and those with a different stance. Rhea stated on the phone, ”Honestly, I wish Soucheray would have just talked to me. This could have been an really good article, he just didn’t care to discuss the true issue. The art community is not surviving, it’s thriving; not only is it thriving but it’s bringing people down to Lowertown by itself.”

In fact, Soucheray’s parting words mention that artists make an annual, “$12.34″ in art crawl sales. He apparently has no clue of the value of arts in the Minneapolis and St. Paul community. With Cowles recent passing, I had expected more from the Star Tribune’s competition, especially given the legacy of the arts that he left in the metro area. This was simply a mistake on the editor’s part to even run Soucheray’s drivel. Why the article was given a green light past several proofreaders gives a clearer picture of the state of today’s daily media. Soucheray said it all when he so ignorantly typed, “As for the so-called artists’ community, they should begin chanting or meditating or howling at the moon, or whatever artists do…” I hope that common decency in journalism and printing wasn’t sidelined for a few, cheap, clicks. Rhea and the artists of Lowertown deserve more than being compared to inmates, wolves and chanters. They deserve respect.

In 100 years, I doubt Soucheray’s elitist articles will be pulled up from the catalog for more than a good laugh. Rhea’s haunting photographs, Justin’s beautiful melodies and the many other powerful creations of artists in our community will live on farther and stronger than anything Soucheray could write. Surely Picasso, Mozart, van Gough and others who remain in museums while their critics have been silenced forever will tell the true tale of it all. It’s time for the Pioneer Press to do something about Soucheray. They are alienating their circulation base and supporting someone who doesn’t deserve the column space. Frankly, the Press deserves more than Soucheray’s work. It’s not what I’ve come to expect from one of Minnesota’s most respected newspapers.

I thought of the memory only because I had just gotten out of the bath and sat in front of my open window to think through the clutter of my mind. I picked up my daughter from my parent’s house this evening after leaving work a little later than usual. When I walked in the door, my mother’s bandaged face smiled at me as I went in for a hug. One side was meticulously-groomed while the other held white gauze to protect an open wound. Stoic and strong, she still never thinks to bother others with silly things like, “skin cancer.” It seems to be a monthly occurrence now, between both my parents. I watch my father’s nose and cheek be chiseled away under careful hands and a scalpel. My daughter finds it fascinating and asks to see under the bandages. At six, she can’t contemplate anything other than a band-aid means something is fixable and Grandpa and Grandma’s faces are as beautiful as the day she first laid eyes on both of them. Not one to gush over the severity of small scars I always smile and hope that no one asks, “Gosh, what happened to your face?” Both children of the 1940′s, my parents are equal amounts practical and whimsical, a recipe for teenage strife and adulthood respect. I wonder if this is what wedding vows really are made of. “I will love you and honor you as you grow more beautiful when you fall apart.” True love, I think that must be it.

There are many old proverbs that state our beauty lies not in our perfection, but our imperfections. I try to remind myself of this as I literally watch the waterfall of hair falling from my head. The hair loss has been more rampant lately. I find myself parting my hair farther and farther over. Eventually I know, it will be gone. I’ve cataloged the hair loss since my 2nd bout with cervical cancer. I forget when I look in the mirror and focus on other things and then, I remember when I carelessly sweep away precious, brown strands that end on my keyboard, shoulders, or desk. I’ve done it all, truffle hair treatments, visits to specialists and ‘miracle cures.’ The strength to let it go is a never-ending struggle. Accepting a weakness, especially one veiled in vanity is difficult.

The cool air of the window seems to bring clarity to a troubled situation. There’s not enough hair to pull back into a ponytail anymore, yet I’d give every strand to see my parent’s faces remain intact and their bodies, cancer free. I painfully read status updates on friend’s profiles talking about tanning or sun-bathing. Given the opportunity, I think most of us would have been more cautious with our bodies at a younger age, but we never realize the importance of our hair, skin or health until we start to miss what used to be.

When my Granddad died, the house was sold and my grandmother moved to Christmases at each one of her children’s homes. We were divided. I often think back to the house in Manteno, Illinois that sat in the middle of the street only a block down from the water tower. Like a single strand of hair, or skin cells, it had purpose and then, it didn’t.

Life has one thing to prove and that is, that the ever-changing landscape of what seems normal during one moment, never lasts through the years. Like the steam that floated off our bodies in the snow, it was all gone. And for some reason, that was okay.

“I learned of  the most valuable secrets of life a few years back. I am not great on my own and therefore my business, or anyway I portray myself is not a one-woman machine rather, I am surmised of those who have inspired and influenced me. I learned that simply bringing my whole self to the pot-luck of online, (my signature dish,) that I was 100% more credible, trustworthy and REAL.It’s why so often when I see the muddy waters of other’s choices online where I wonder why they haven’t discovered that their power isn’t in taking over someone else, but rather bringing that person with them.This is why I am so passionate about doing RIGHT and CREDIBLE, online.”

What happens when the lack of integrity by one harms the reputation of another?  In September, I published a piece called, {Blur} The Lines Between Stealing an Idea and Stealing Content. I tried to balance my frustration of having been blatantly copied and being true to myself. After emailing the other writer and making it clear that going forward, I wasn’t going to take any lifting as “harmless,” anymore. I told myself, “Karma will win.” All three times she’s lifted my work in style, ideas and quotes I told myself, it was a compliment. This is how we are taught to take copycatism- almost as if it’s a gift to be duplicated. We should be grateful someone found beauty or worth in our words.

I wrote last September almost as a plea to the person taking my words, ideas and emotions. I never uttered her name or her blog. Even when my ideas became her profit. She had ads on her blog, and was literally paid for my stories while I struggled to write for free because I  had a belief in the medium and the importance of not monetizing my child. Weeds of resentment grew as people often pointed out her similar posts and mine. It wasn’t until I received an email tonight about this same writer copying a post within 2 hours of it being up that I knew I had to take my threats as seriously as my original words. But how on earth could I keep my grace and integrity intact in such a relatively small world of writers? I couldn’t shame one person without shaming part of myself. That was the truth I knew, deep down and the truth I wanted to shove away because being RIGHT seemed to matter more in a single moment of anger.

I had the entire blog planned. I’d table her post and then mine. As dozens of people have pointed out, it’s obvious. I’d splash color on the truth and then, surely she’d be shamed. Only, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not because I wanted to be the bigger person, but because suddenly the need to be right just didn’t seem that important as I looked over at John smiling kindly and telling me he loved me. Anger always seems to dissipate with a single touch or a look of pure understanding. It also seems to dilute itself when there is so much other good in the world around me.

The truth is, I still look at the photos of her children and wonder if my words in calling her out with harm their mouths or stomachs or if in 10 years they’d know the truth that sometimes, their mother was human and hurt others. The truth is… I didn’t want to care anymore. Originality matters in a world where everyone strives to be what they see in someone else. She could be a far better writer if she’d give herself the credit. We all would.

I think of writing like painting. Each word is a color that needs to correlate to the hue that resides to the right. It takes artistry to paint words with purpose. As artists we need to take time to focus on the rest of the world so we can become aligned again with the colors that saturate the whole into a masterpiece that is only, our own.

I took reflection seriously. In between the hustle and bustle of client work, I asked myself the same question over and over. “Who am I writing the blog for?” My answer was always the same. I write for myself. This answered the ads question and the question of, “do I need to provide more content?” In stepping back, I realized a simple truth: I am not a machine. I do not push content because I feel it’s necessary. I write because I feel passion and grace around something that tugs at me and begs me to let it out.

Do I want to be found by a search engine? Absolutely, but not the reasons you might think. This blog doesn’t pay my bills. It gives me freedom, relief and a voice when so long ago I felt I didn’t have have any of the three. I write because I don’t know how NOT to write just as a musician doesn’t know how to stop the music inside their fingertips.

My month sabbatical was difficult. I had so much to react to and say. In the meantime, while I was away from the keyboard there were sunsets and giggles with my daughter and blissful moments of peaceful family time spent in walks and lengthy discussions about everything from snails to growing up.

The self-proclaimed Social Media addict had a breakdown. I realized a truth that I had been hiding from myself. My online self is strictly one part of who I am and it isn’t my most important part. We all need a reminder that our blogs, our Facebook walls and our Twitter feeds will not come to our funeral. In fact, they’ll be mindlessly left behind when we pass on. Never will we say, “I need just one more status update!” It will be instead, “I need one more sweet kiss from my kindergartener,” or, “Please, let me hold my father’s hand one more time.”

I became a better writer because I chose my words more carefully. I became a better mother, wife-to-be and daughter because I loved with more reckless abandon than I thought I had in me. Here’s to the lasting effects of one, solitary month.

Now, go outside and enjoy the sun.

Have you ever heard a cover song that is better than the original? Because of my musical obsessions, I’ve often found that some covers completely obliterate the voices that have come before, while others compliment.

{Here are my top 20 often-forgotten cover songs, in no particular order.}

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pjit7SL2GXE Ben Gibbard’s cover of Cyndi Lauper’s, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” is epic, indie, fresh and cool.

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TBFpG_mVFdo Sufjan Steven’s cover of, “This One Goes Out To The One I Love,” by REM is such a haunting and gorgeous rendition of the original.

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7yrL8PeORjU The Decemberists make me forget who Heart even is with their cover of, “Crazy On You.” It’s that good

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEhUcRv0iO0&feature=related Keane’s rendition of Queen’s, “Under Pressure,” isn’t better than the original, but it’s just as fantastic.

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A0jPsaJNGPw The majestic glory that is, Ted Leo and The Pharmacists cover Tears For Fears’, “Everybody Wants To Rule The World.”

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXQRI9quyvk Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan cover Pink’s “Get This Party Started.” They quite literally, kill the original. Should have been this way all along.

1. http://youtu.be/R1uuStLMFb JukeBox The Ghost rocks out to Sophie B. Hawkins’, “I’ll Love You Always Forever.”

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PgNqe7m5kK4 The Civil Wars add humor and incredible voices to “Billie Jean” by the late Michael Jackson. Chris Cornell’s version comes in a close second.

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8AWFf7EAc4&ob=av2e Jeff Buckley covers Leonard Cohen’s, “Hallelujah.”

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZrZJfcDyXs Snow Patrol is this good. Yes, they will cover  Beyonce’s, “Crazy In Love” and they will make it better than the original. The higher-pitch of the voices give it an edgier feel.

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ejeEBlDESc Obadiah Parker completely changes the meaning of Outkast’s, “Hey Ya.”

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mEfDSP4g_U&feature=related If you’re in the mood for tears, you need to listen to Ray Lamontagne’s cover of, “Crazy.” Emotion, passion and an incredible voice- this song has it all.

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0t7SvSSm6BI Paramore covers Kings of Leon’s, “Use Somebody,” without the pretentiousness of the original.

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lhysu3peJek Sara Bareilles covers Bruce Springsteen’s, “Im On Fire.” Her version of Coldplay’s Yellow will also leave you speechless. The way in which she sings, throws her head back and passionately demonstrates the true meaning of the words? Incredible.

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HaAI3jI7uCc Tori Amos covers Nirvana’s, “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” in only a way Tori can do.

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XuHWgWFFPZ4&feature=related Cartel cover’s Oasis’, “Wonderwall,” along with Ryan Adams’ version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kzZhtrsbJzs. Both are equally passionate and linger in the ears.

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hdhonK8NMm8 Joan Jett and the Blackhearts cover Tommy James and the Shondells, “Crimson and Clover.”

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9lEd5bIbbQ The Sundays cover The Rolling Stones’, “Wild Horses.” My heart still melts from hearing this on Buffy in the 90′s.

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4N3N1MlvVc4 Gary Jules covers Tears for Fears’, “Mad World.” Every artist should make another song their own.

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERz8QbIkcws Bedlam for Blue Eyes covers 3EB’s, “Jumper” with such conviction it’s hard not to rate it first, anywhere.

Have you ever heard a cover song that is better than the original? Because of my musical obsessions, I’ve often found that some covers completely obliterate the voices that have come before, while others compliment.

{Here are my top 20 often-forgotten cover songs, in no particular order.}

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pjit7SL2GXE Ben Gibbard’s cover of Cyndi Lauper’s, “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” is epic, indie, fresh and cool.

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TBFpG_mVFdo Sufjan Steven’s cover of, “This One Goes Out To The One I Love,” by REM is such a haunting and gorgeous rendition of the original.

 

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7yrL8PeORjU The Decemberists make me forget who Heart even is with their cover of, “Crazy On You.” It’s that good

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AEhUcRv0iO0&feature=related Keane’s rendition of Queen’s, “Under Pressure,” isn’t better than the original, but it’s just as fantastic.

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A0jPsaJNGPw The majestic glory that is, Ted Leo and The Pharmacists cover Tears For Fears’, “Everybody Wants To Rule The World.”

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXQRI9quyvk Damien Rice and Lisa Hannigan cover Pink’s “Get This Party Started.” They quite literally, kill the original. Should have been this way all along.

 

1. http://youtu.be/R1uuStLMFb JukeBox The Ghost rocks out to Sophie B. Hawkins’, “I’ll Love You Always Forever.”

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PgNqe7m5kK4 The Civil Wars add humor and incredible voices to “Billie Jean” by the late Michael Jackson. Chris Cornell’s version comes in a close second.

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y8AWFf7EAc4&ob=av2e Jeff Buckley covers Leonard Cohen’s, “Hallelujah.”

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oZrZJfcDyXs Snow Patrol is this good. Yes, they will cover  Beyonce’s, “Crazy In Love” and they will make it better than the original. The higher-pitch of the voices give it an edgier feel.

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ejeEBlDESc Obadiah Parker completely changes the meaning of Outkast’s, “Hey Ya.”

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mEfDSP4g_U&feature=related If you’re in the mood for tears, you need to listen to Ray Lamontagne’s cover of, “Crazy.” Emotion, passion and an incredible voice- this song has it all.

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0t7SvSSm6BI Paramore covers Kings of Leon’s, “Use Somebody,” without the pretentiousness of the original.

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lhysu3peJek Sara Bareilles covers Bruce Springsteen’s, “Im On Fire.” Her version of Coldplay’s Yellow will also leave you speechless. The way in which she sings, throws her head back and passionately demonstrates the true meaning of the words? Incredible.

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HaAI3jI7uCc Tori Amos covers Nirvana’s, “Smells Like Teen Spirit,” in only a way Tori can do.

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XuHWgWFFPZ4&feature=related Cartel cover’s Oasis’, “Wonderwall,” along with Ryan Adams’ version: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kzZhtrsbJzs. Both are equally passionate and linger in the ears.

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hdhonK8NMm8 Joan Jett and the Blackhearts cover Tommy James and the Shondells, “Crimson and Clover.”

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9lEd5bIbbQ The Sundays cover The Rolling Stones’, “Wild Horses.” My heart still melts from hearing this on Buffy in the 90′s.

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4N3N1MlvVc4 Gary Jules covers Tears for Fears’, “Mad World.” Every artist should make another song their own.

 

 

 

1. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ERz8QbIkcws Bedlam for Blue Eyes covers 3EB’s, “Jumper” with such conviction it’s hard not to rate it first, anywhere.

Having learned to play the game the same way Wayne Gretzky did is a very special thing. For those of you who aren’t familiar with ‘The Great One’ and all his accomplishments, his nickname might give you a clue as to how incredible Gretzky was. During his 20 year professional career, Gretzky tallied 2,857 points (in reference, 1,500 points is an incredible achievement), 4 Stanley Cup Championships, and 8 straight Hart Trophies (NHL MVP). His prolific numbers were a credit to his preparation and vision, two attributes that propelled him to legendary status. The same skills and efforts that Wayne Gretzky combined in his Hall-Of-Fame career are the same kinds of tools visionaries and entrepreneurs employ.

• Gretzky’s father taught his son at a young age that anticipating where the puck is headed is more essential to continued success than pursuing the disk’s current location. “I skate to where the puck is going to be, not to where it has been.” We never want to be behind- we all want to be on the cutting edge, right? Keep your head up, be aware for the next scoring opportunity.

• 2,857 points aren’t amassed without hard work, skill, and great vision. Gretzky’s play forced rule changes, improved team production, and garnered a new audience for hockey by transcending his sport. This new fan base increased demand, allowing the professional game to flourish through television and expansion. New channels are obviously great ways to introduce a revenue stream. The viewers can be intrigued by the perceived novelty, providing the chance to win them over as a fan, opening the door to more lucrative markets.

• Wayne Gretzky liked to share, as evidenced by his 1,963 assists. Those helpers are proof that he made his teammates better, creating an atmosphere more conducive to success. The visionaries that have the talent and drive to succeed often know that they cannot achieve their goals alone. They must attract the proper resources and get people to believe in their cause to grow the ideas outside of themselves. Providing the right atmosphere to succeed starts at the top and works its way although organization.

• At the end of an illustrious career, Gretzky had his famous #99 jersey retired throughout the NHL and youth leagues. It’s a sign of respect that no other player has ever been given. We will always laud those who have an indelible mark on a segment of our world. Their work is always used as a measuring stick to guide us in our quest to achieve greater things. While it’s wise to look back on those who came and conquered their goals before us, we cannot get caught in their accomplishments. Our vision is unique and should be influenced by the greats- not direct copies.

Wayne Gretzky was called The Great One. There has not been any player to come close to his overall point totals since he stepped away from hockey. However, the fans and analysts will always wonder who ‘The Next One’ will be. It’s a sign that we are excited for the future and what surprises lay in wait. Social media and tablet computing was the ‘Next Thing’ not too long ago. Already we want the newest ‘thing’. It creates the dream for some young player or entrepreneur to answer that question with a rousing, ‘I’m going to be the Next One’. Best of luck to you, kid. We’ll all be rooting for you.

.          .          .          .          .          .

Jonathan Steiert is a monthly contributor to GirlmeetsGeek. Hand selected for his wit, and writing, Jonathan teaches everyday lessons and values with ease. I’m proud to have him on the GMG team. You can follow him on Twitter, @JWSteiert

(FoundationLife)

You might have heard about it online or over the airwaves in the last few days. Komen has pulled support from Planned Parenthood. In Planned Parenthood’s emailed press release, they stated,

“Planned Parenthood today expressed deep disappointment in response to the Susan G. Komen for the Cure Foundation’s decision to stop funding breast cancer prevention, screenings, and education at PlannedParenthood health centers. Anti-women’s health groups have repeatedly targeted and boycotted the Susan G. Komen for the Cure Foundation for partnering with Planned Parenthood to provide these lifesaving cancer screenings and news articles suggest that the Susan G. Komen for the Cure Foundation ultimately succumbed to these pressures. As a health care provider to more than 60,000 women in our community, Planned Parenthood is trusted a leader in helping women identify breast cancer early. Women are deeply alarmed that the Susan G. Komen for the Cure Foundation appears to have succumbed to political pressure from a vocal minority”, said Sarah Stoesz, President and CEO of Planned Parenthood Minnesota, North Dakota, South Dakota (PPMNS). “For years, opponents of women’s health have waged an aggressive pressure campaign aimed at the Susan G. Komen Foundation at the expense of women’s health and lives. While not directly affected by the Komen Foundation’s decision making, PPMNS is deeply concerned about the troubling precedent of putting politics before women’s health. Last year alone, PPMNS provided 15,244 breast exams and screenings to women in the region who may not have otherwise had access to health care that would help them detect breast cancer early. In these tough economic times, more women than ever need access to essential health care services like lifesaving breast cancer screenings. Politics should never get in the way of a woman’s ability to access health care,” said Stoesz.

{Public Backlash}

NPR did an incredible follow-up Q&A that asked difficult questions surrounding the decision including numbers around the initial donation amount and follow-up donations to make up the gap. MS. Magazine, along with Breast Cancer Action pulled no punches, just the truth when revealing the underhanded motive that some believe Komen has.  The Atlantic has reported that a top Komen executive has resigned over the decision to cut funding to Planned Parenthood. Having been on-air with radio, television and writing numerous articles about Komen, I’ve been all too aware of pink corruption.

{What Is Komen Thinking?}

It’s always been how Komen has visualized Breast Cancer with pink, happy, feather-boas… but I cannot shake the pink disgust and sexualization of cancer. I carry the gene and am fluent about checking monthly and visiting my gynecologist regularly. I beat cancer with my cervix and I abhor how women’s cancers have been overtaken by one, single, color. On-air, online and in print I speak passionately about defying the ideology of the PINK and making our own decisions. Komen pulled support for a program that helped the underserved and rural populations that Planned Parenthood wasn’t able to reach. With the government consistently cutting funding to regional and local Planned Parenthood clinics, (5 in just 2011,) it’s clear that the money given to Planned Parenthood was needed. More so, reading for just a few moments on WomensHealth.gov, signals a direct increase of minority cancers and death with one risk factor being early diagnosis and prevention. There is a war on health in our nation and making healthcare affordable, accessible and manageable. No one can dispute that. What many pro-life organizations do try to dispute is Planned Parenthood’s relevancy in today’s market. Two myths are prevalent and taught among these organizations.

{Two Huge Myths}

1.  Abortion causes Breast Cancer. Debunked many years ago, even Cancer.gov testifies that abortions have NO effect on breast cancer risk factors. In the study it’s stated “having an abortion or miscarriage does not increase a woman’s subsequent risk of developing breast cancer. A summary of their findings can be found in the Summary Report.”  Source: Summary Report: Early Reproductive Events and Breast Cancer Workshop

2. Abortions are mainly a way for minorities to eliminate pregnancy.  Guttmacher has some staggering statistics on abortion. Most interesting to me, is the breakdown of equality among nationalities who decide to get abortions and the reasons for terminating a pregnancy.

• Non-Hispanic white women account for 36% of abortions, non-Hispanic black women for 30%, Hispanic women for 25% and women of other races for 9%.[6]

• Forty-two percent of women obtaining abortions have incomes below 100% of the federal poverty level ($10,830 for a single woman with no children).[6]

• Twenty-seven percent of women obtaining abortions have incomes between 100–199% of the federal poverty level.* [6]

• The reasons women give for having an abortion underscore their understanding of the responsibilities of parenthood and family life. Three-fourths of women cite concern for or responsibility to other individuals; three-fourths say they cannot afford a child; three-fourths say that having a baby would interfere with work, school or the ability to care for dependents; and half say they do not want to be a single parent or are having problems with their husband or partner.[7]

• The risk of abortion complications is minimal: Fewer than 0.3% of abortion patients experience a complication that requires hospitalization.[11]

• Exhaustive reviews by panels convened by the U.S. and British governments have concluded that there is no association between abortion and breast cancer. There is also no indication that abortion is a risk factor for other cancers.[12]

{The Reality of What Planned Parenthood Offers}

Let’s look at the breakdown of Planned Parenthood’s services, (collected from their most recent reporting numbers. Available here.)

STD Testing and Treatment — 38.0 Percent of services in 2010

Contraception — 33.5 Percent of services in 2010

Cancer Screening and Prevention — 14.5 Percent of services in 2010

Abortion services — 3.0 Percent of services in 2010

Other services (Includes, Family Practice Services, Adoption Referrals to Other Agencies, Other Procedures.)— 0.6 Percent of services in 2010

{Why Planned Parenthood Matters}

This morning, while scrolling through my twitter feed I saw someone state, “Get over Komen/PP. Move on.”  I sat for a while and decided if it warrantied a reply, or anything to give it more validation than was deserved. I replied carefully, though my fingers and mind told me to do otherwise. I tweeted, “Every time someone says, “It’s time to shut-up about the Komen/PP thing,” I say, “That’s how they win.” A cause isn’t a one-time statement.” When you believe in something as I believe in healthcare equality, you don’t ‘shut-up.’ Last year I was invited to speak on Capitol Hill and address our current Congress and Administration on misleading guidelines and the cost of care. I was featured in Planned Parenthood’s newsletter not so long ago. As a woman who had a pre-existing condition of cervical cancer and couldn’t afford $3-5k for single treatments to her cervix. Planned Parenthood made my treatment affordable and offered me a place when my insurance refused to pay for anything with my cervix. I am a healthy 30 year old caucasian woman in a metro area. If I was a minority woman in a rural area, I might have not been able to FIND prevention or treatment without a local Planned Parenthood clinic. In fact, minorities are screened FAR LESS for cancers by their physicians or emergency care than their caucasian counterparts.

“Among subgroups, Asians were found to be the least likely to be screened for breast cancer (64.1%), compared with Hispanics (69.7%), African-Americans (73.2%), and whites (72.8%). For cervical cancer, Asians also led the decline with 75.4%, compared with 78.7% for Hispanics, 85% for African-Americans, and 83.4% for whites. People with no health insurance or those relying on hospital emergency departments for medical attention were only 36.2% likely to get tested for breast cancer, and 64.9% for cervical cancer. By comparison, the percentages for people with regular access to health care were 75.4% and 86.4%, respectively.” –  Forbes.com

 

{Not A Pro-Life / Pro-Choice Issue}

When we fail to meet care guidelines for each demographic, we fail to properly adhere to a model of equality, no matter race, class, sexual orientation, religious belief or otherwise. And frankly, we are failing. I’m not here to write about pro-life or pro-choice mentalities. I truly believe that no one wants to have an abortion. The mental anxiety and anguish and subsequent judgement is noted by every woman who walks into a clinic to discuss or have the procedure. The fact is, Komen’s refusal to support Planned Parenthood goes much deeper than a pro-life / pro-choice debate. It goes to the heart of WHO the Susan G. Komen Foundation is and eliminates any belief in my mind of their motive to slowly take over the face of women’s health at any costs. Komen has proven their irresponsibility to women’s health in far greater ways including*:

Refusing to invest in environmental factors that lead to cancer – Source

Using donor funds to eliminate small and hometown charities using, “cure” in their name – Source

Selling multiple items with known and investigated carcinogens – Source

Huge ties with Pharmaceutical companies and Congress  - Source

*Although I’m aware of all the above, I specifically picked sources from simply using google with the phrases and keywords above.

{Think For Yourself}

When I taught Keith Ferrazzi’s masterclass, I said, “You will be nothing unless you bare your soul.” For our healthcare system and equality to change, our voices are needed now, more than ever. Even if you are unsure where you stand in the Komen / Planned Parenthood debate, educate yourself about what is at stake and Komen’s choices. You can visit Breast Cancer Action, Think Before You Pink, Pink Ribbon Blues and others. A few of my past articles and podcasts are below.

Podcast: GirlTalk with Marlo: Cervical Cancer- 2011

Podcast: GirlTalk with Marlo: The Pink De-Revolution - 2010

Article: Re-Think Your Pitch: Q&A With A National Brand Over Sexualizing Breast Cancer – 2011

Article: {Defrauding} How Defunding Planned Parenthood will Defraud MN Women of Accessible and Affordable Healthcare – 2011

Article: The Trouble With Pink – 2010

Article: Pink Ribbons = Company Profit – 2009

{A Very Expensive Lesson}

This morning we rushed off to have breakfast before coming home to primp for our first family photo with John. For anyone who knows our family, it’s difficult to get time together with John working weekends and myself writing on deadline. We scheduled this afternoon a month out and walked into the photography studio like rockstars.

I should tell you how this all began. Before Christmas, a young representative from Venture Photography approached my daughter in the mall and asked to take her picture. Finding out more about the company, I was intrigued, (though I don’t allow Ava’s photo to be taken unless we know the person taking the photo.) They were selling a ‘groupon’ like coupon. For $50 we would receive a studio sitting and a free 8×10. After saying we’d think about it, the rep informed us he’d be happy to upgrade our coupon to a 2-for-1. I’m such a freak for a great deal, I did a quick google search and it showed me they were located in Edina. We purchased the voucher and later that week I was called to schedule my appointment. We decided after Christmas would be best and within hours of scheduling I had a follow-up email from our photographer named, “Joe.” As much of a freak as I am for a good deal, I’m literally immune to the call of great customer service. I forgot about the photos until earlier this week when we picked out clothing and I reminded everyone that Sunday was picture day.

I peeked at the voucher on the way over and noticed that it had a dollar amount on it of $500.00. I’m no photographer, but a few of my friends are. I silently wondered, “Where the heck are they getting these prices?” When I turned the card over, the pricing was broken down like this:

$300.00 – 1-hour studio session with photographer

$100.00 – 2-3 hours of post-editing work

$100.00 – Consultation with slideshow at portrait presentation

We arrived at 12:45pm for our 1:00pm portraits and proceeded to wait until 1:14. We were given the options of pop, juice, water and coffee while we waited. The portraits on the wall were gorgeous and we snapped a photo of my little one on the couch with a cell phone as she looked through the ‘model book.’ A family with the same age children as Ava came in a few minutes before we headed back to the studio. They picked up 5-7 flat boxes and the woman exclaimed, “I love these photos!” Content in a good decision, we walked into the studio and Joe immediately put us at ease. He mentioned he had just graduated from Art School and looked to be in his very early twenties. I thought it was a little strange the photographer was so young, but as we talked, he knew skill beyond his years. He crawled on the ground with Ava and asked for high-fives as he simultaneously snapped photos of her jumping and smiling. We played great games where we tickled each other, called out words and smiled, not on command, but on our own accord.

After about 25 minutes, he said he had all the photos he needed. I peeked at the clock and thought, “That’s a little strange,” but sat on the couch to put my coat on. It was only then he pulled out a pricing book and since John and I had already discussed we needed to spend a little more to have ‘great family photos,’ we thought we budgeted accordingly. We couldn’t have been more surprised.

{Outrageous Pricing}

Well, this is entirely my fault. Usually I wear a “do not approach” frown when it comes to mall kiosks. And frankly, I try to support local and independent photographers in Minnesota as much as we can because with the pop-ups of studios and franchises, it’s local and independent artists that are most hurt. I take the blame of wanting to save money and hear about a new business. That’s where most of my guilt lies at the  moment, in the fact that trying to save money I am hurting another business.

{Photography Should Evolve, Not Sit On A Wall}

I talked to John over a late lunch as we sat in awe over the pricing and idea that photography should only be on the walls and Venture doesn’t offer any digital images. (Well, they do, but first you have to spend $1000.00 then it’s an additional $500.00, but you can’t upload the images or post them on Facebook as they are protected. You’re able to view on the “computer screen, only.” ) I never understood when technology evolved why a photography studio wouldn’t want their images viewed by the masses. For instance, if Venture offered a ‘free facebook photo’ instead of a framed 8×10, they could watermark the photo, (as every photographer should,) and get MORE word of mouth and advertising for free. Imagine the online contests and tagging that would happen? Bloggers would post photos that would already advertise themselves. Instead, Venture Photography refuses to evolve into the digital atmosphere because they want to sell over-priced wall mounted canvas prints. They can control the flow of the art and therefore decrease piracy, which is rampant in the photography world. The fact of the matter is, good photographers want to have their clients share their work and allow friends and family to see. The only way to share a Venture Photography photo, would be to invite people over. It just felt, odd.

{What Venture Said}

When we sat at home and John looked at me and earnestly said, “I don’t want to go in and be pressured to spend these prices,” I knew the $50 coupon had already cost him a day off work, our family a much-needed afternoon together and me, part of my sanity. I decided to call Venture Photography and see what a manager said. Lisa was the manager at the Edina studio and offered to answer my questions. I spoke about how excited we were about the experience, but how ‘baited’ we felt about the prices. When I mentioned that we couldn’t afford to spend $1200-1500 on several framed prints, she offered us an option to finance. (It also clearly mentions financing on the sales pamphlets given out at the end of the session.)  When I commented that we are a family that doesn’t use credit cards and ‘creative financing’ doesn’t suit us she mentioned,”weekly and monthly specials.” I asked what some of the specials might be, or if I could be given a price list for the items not on the pamphlets and I was told, “We cannot give any pricing information that is not on our main sheet.” I asked what a typical sale might be and she mentioned that just for coming in to view the photos, we’d receive, “20% off if we could commit to buying our package then .” I don’t know about you, but 20% off a 1500.00 framed portrait still doesn’t leave my mouth with a good taste. Lisa mentioned the “average customer usually buys $1500.00 worth of photos.” I couldn’t imagine spending that amount of money without any tangible digital footprint to keep and pass down. I mentioned we’d probably cancel our return appointment for the “1.5 hour movie viewing,” of our photos. Lisa stated that it was she, who would be on during our scheduled viewing date and she would be happy to “work something out with us.” I couldn’t describe the feeling much more than saying when I hung up the phone, I looked over at John and said, “I feel dirty.”

{Conclusion}

Their website and business are based out of the UK. As with any professional photography site they boast tantalizing photos and a clean design. The real truth happened when I dug a little deeper. I learned that their booth staff drew people in for $10/an hour and were considered “interns.’ I wondered how much Joe made for all his hard work. Complaints against Venture Photography go back all the way to 2007 in the UK and 2008 in the US. Although I truly still want an 8×10 of our family, I’m not sure I want to sit through a sales pitch to receive it. My time is valuable and I despise sales gimmicks. In the few months the Edina, MN location has been open, the BBB already cites 3 complaints against the company. In the Connecticut location, 10 complaints have been filed. In comparison to other photography studios with similar concepts, (though no gimmicky sales pitches,) Flash Photography in Burnsville has 0 complaints. The only Target Portrait Studio listed had 0 complaints. I was unable to find BBB listings for The Portrait People, Sears Portrait or others. I did a full search for “Portrait Studios, MN” and I could find no complaints for any studio besides Venture Photography. To me, this does not mean the complaints do not exist, but they are perhaps more hidden or personal. A Google Review for “Venture Photography MN” comes up with some harsh criticism as well. I’ll update on what happens if we choose to go in or just walk away. The marketing technique of approaching young families in malls and stating they are a “new and affordable” studio in the cities is misleading at best. One thing is for sure, I need to be more diligent about ‘offers’ and ‘deals.’ It has cost me way more than I originally realized.

Sometimes, just listening is the best way to ease the mind…

As a little girl you never think a day without your parents, it’s like some unwritten rule somewhere. They are invincible and nothing could ever happen to them. Well that was my mom to me. She was a strong, beautiful, intelligent, passionate and caring woman who I wished every day I could be like. On March 30^th, 1993 she was gone. We have all heard stories about how cancer changed the life of someone, well this is mine.

My mom raised my brother and I as a single mother for most of our life, don’t get me wrong, I grew to know and love my father very much as well, but that’s a story for another day. When she married my step father everything seemed to be finally falling in to place for her. In the winter of 1992 we went on a family Christmas trip and she came home with a cold, well more like a cough. The kind of cough that keeps you from sleeping, it hurts you to your core. We thought nothing of it because my mom worked in an emergency room and she had told the ER doctors all about it. They told her she was fine, not to worry.  What they didn’t know was it was lung cancer and no cough syrup or shots of tequila (an actual suggestion from a doctor) were going to fix it. It persisted until my step dad finally drove her to the local emergency room to get her checked out. She fought, because that’s the kind of woman she was, but then the doctors took x-rays of her chest and after some tests found out that she had stage 4 lung cancer and had 6 months to live. They admitted her immediately, tried to start treatment but it was less than 3 months before she lost her battle.

Moms give you advice, they cheer at your games, they watch you get married and start a family of your own. Since the day that cancer took her from us I have tried to lead a life that she would have been proud of, one that she would have cheered at and danced along with.

A few years ago a friend told me about an event she was planning in the community; it was the American Cancer Society’s Relay for Life. I had finally found my way to help, cope and fight back against the disease that I hated so much. I attended the event, a 24 hour walk around a local high school track to signify the fact that cancer never sleeps. I remember walking on the track and taking in how amazing it was to see all the people come together and raise awareness and funds. I was then part of the committee and invited brother to come check it out. While walking around the track with his sons and wife he looked at me and said “I’m sorry”, “sorry for what?” I asked as the bag pipers played and the names of all those that we were remembering were being read. “I didn’t know that THIS is what you were doing”.  It wasn’t just a fundraiser it was something special.   Participation turned into passion and last year I Co-Chaired the event with the same friend who introduced it to me just a few years before and we rose over $100,000.

Cancer forever changed my life but it did not change me. I am a strong, beautiful, intelligent, passionate, caring woman because what your mother teaches you trumps whatever cancer could take away.

If you are looking for a way to give back and help others my family is participating in this year’s Relay for Life and would love some support to reach our goal. Relay For Life

I believe that there is ripe opportunity for you to go and grow your own chance. Let’s say you want to become a chef. You want to have your own show on Food Network. Where do you start? Well, thanks to all these new avenues you create a blog listing all your personal recipes, recommendations, and memories of what inspired you to want to be a culinary wonder. That blog can be your hub for content, taking those previous recipes and recording them so that people (and restaurateurs) can see your step by step approach to a classic or an original dish.

Maybe cooking isn’t your thing, (onions make me cry too). You want to be the next syndicated radio talk-show host and have a national following. How would you begin to build this kind of audience? Use twitter search to find leads on stories you’d like to cover- many young reporters are doing the same thing since twitter is so close to the pulse of the people. Once you begin collecting stories and editorials, ask businesses or professionals if they’d be willing to discuss a specific topic in an interview or profile. Create your own radio show on blogtalkradio so that you can begin to see what works and what you need to improve on. Having the actual radio show will allow you to then create a facebook fanpage where you can interact with listeners and guests. A facebook page would also give you a chance to promote your upcoming shows, topics, and specials in a neat package already geared for social sharing.

How would I take my own advice? Well I’d start with YouTube or Vimeo. Comedy is wonderful when you can see and hear it together. The anticipation of a good time is what keeps you coming back for more laughs. You want to see the performer make a fool of himself, falling over the table. You want to hear the funny voice she has chosen for the particular character she’s playing. Video is what I need to start producing if I ever want to get my chance at being a regular on Saturday Night Live. Creating a campaign that involves video, social media platforms, and regular content creation become building blocks to success. You don’t need a great marketing budget to produce awesome content; if you’re passionate about your craft you’re already able produce quality content.

This summer a few of my friends and I went about the task of writing sketches for a potential comedy troupe we’d talked about for years. We haven’t shot anything yet but even the idea of it makes me giddy. I have a lot of ideas and talent within my soul and social media is the perfect way of delivering those gifts. I owe it to myself to slide the nerves aside and embrace the challenge of failing on camera…even I it’s just a webcam. If it’s what I truly love then that’s worth the risk, right?

What are your dreams? Are you living them day to day already? Do you think that social media could help unlock doors you once thought were bolted shut? I’d love to hear your reactions and responses. Feel free to talk with me @jwsteiert.

Every Christmas Eve my family travels the 4 miles to my Mom-Mom’s for Christmas dinner. It’s probably my favorite part of the holidays. What I really think sets the Christmas Eve tradition over the top is the anticipation: the moment when you’ll discover what’s inside those boxes with your name. Now that I’m a bit older the role is reversed a bit, giving gifts to my younger cousins and goddaughter, with me anxiously waiting to see if your gift selections will bring joy.

After my goddaughter opened up her gift, my Aunt gave me the gift that was ‘from’ my goddaughter. I was thrilled to find the Complete 2nd & 3^rd Seasons of Saturday Night Live. Boy, that 2 ½ year old knows my tastes very well. I had already gotten the 1^st Season of SNL a few Christmases ago and loved every minute of those DVDs. The Not Ready for Primetime Players were bold pioneers that joined Lorne Michaels on the strange journey through late-night TV in 1975. They were passionate about their craft and wanted to share with a larger audience- an audience NBC wasn’t completely sold on. 31 years later, SNL is an American staple, launching the careers of entertainers, writers, and producers. It’s something every comedian wants to aspire to, a goal many have and a fate few achieve. I am one of the many who yearn to get to SNL one day.

I was 13 when I first started performing Improvisational Comedy. Since then I’ve grown fond of voice imitations, physical impressions, character development, subtle, awkward humor, and just general performance. Laughter, when gained from a live audience, is like a legal drug that will keep you coming back for more. Stage performance is the ability to to bare your soul on your own terms, while hoping your audience will accept your presentations.

To walk out onto the stage of Studio 8H in Rockefeller Center and exclaim, yes indeed we are, ‘Live, from New York, it’s Saturday Night!’; this I would love to come to fruition. There is no guarantee of such a dream being fleshed out, of course. The only way to get there is through hard work, trail, and error. It may seem like such a longshot, especially for someone who hasn’t really done any stage performing for 6 years, but stranger things have happened.

Dreams are what keep us going. When we feel bogged down by the tedious works and chores, we need someplace to feel comfortable, even if only in our minds. Dreams are things that will continue to inspire even after the odds point against your favor. These are all things we’ve heard before, I know because I’ve heard the clichés countless times. But dreams are the motivation behind so much of what we do, and if we don’t have them, we have nothing to work towards. Our full potential lies within us- and yes we’ll need help to achieve- but those in the position to provide support look for heart and hustle.  We should dream, and we should dream big.  With the advent of modern technology, we have the whole world in front of us, in our pockets, and at our fingertips. Never have we had a better chance at making our dreams a reality.

The 13 year old in me is very grateful for this new and accessible world. I’m going to need that leverage to impress Lorne Michaels.

My next post will feature a few great ways on how to use social media to make dreams happen. What are your dreams?  How are you going about accomplishing them this new year? I’d love to hear your reactions and responses. Feel free to talk with me @jwsteiert.

The first thing I did was shake my head. In many, many other countries women are not allowed to vote or be involved in the election process and for Staci to joke, “I’ll trade an electronic for my right to vote,” was off-putting and immature.

Maybe because I remembered a woman named Mari, (she told me this was the name she picked out when she came to the States.) When I worked for the State of Minnesota, I saw many, many faces of immigrants who came to the US for opportunity and refuge. Mari was from the Middle East. She had a young daughter and sharp typing skills. Her goal was to help her daughter grow up to be “kind and smart.” She told me of the opportunities here that weren’t in the Middle East for her little girl. I remember distinctively going home to Ava and watching her face over dinner. We were so blessed, her and I. Ava had a future of promise, education and non-violence. I was part of an elite political system that assured her that she mattered. This just isn’t so in other countries. Maybe you think I’m over-reacting or that I simply, (as Staci put it, can’t take a joke.)  I can, when the joke is funny. It’s been years since I’ve seen Mari and I wonder how she and the countless others coming here are adapting.

Something I’m sure of, is that I can’t take the blatant disregard for the fact that it’s been only 100 years since women even ‘earned’ the right to vote. I wondered, after sending out my tweet, if I was being blasted on the air. (Because it’s just so funny to put down your listeners, isn’t it?) Clearly online, this was escalating.

This had me thinking.  I would sincerely GIVE STACI MY IPAD2, (no strings attached,) if it could create opportunity for even one woman in the Middle East.  Not because I’m trying to be witty, or funny or anything. It’s because no electronic means more than someone’s rights. So Staci? Create an opportunity. Speak Out. After all, that’s a forgotten privilege, too.

The truth is: Social Media Is Stagnant because we all needed to be BIG fish.

We all wanted to be viral, and then, nothing was viral, because everything was.

We collected labels as though they were Coach purses.  We were all authors and bloggers, national speakers and journalists. It didn’t matter who had the real credibility, because we all wanted a piece of the pie. I verified my credentials myself and then I truly thought, “does it matter?” I had always wanted to write for the Star Tribune, teach National Government and make a difference. And then? I did. And it mattered, to me and my pride. But suddenly, we are all labels. They have taken over our profiles as if we all had something to prove. I decided to change myself tonight and made a promise to slowly change other bios in the future. What am I?

I’m Kate. To me, that’s perfect.

This Christmas and Holiday Season I don’t wish for you a tree with gifts underneath, but a spirit that recognizes the gifts, inside. I wish for you  a strong soul that doesn’t bend in belief, (whatever yours may be,) a powerful mind that is able to think through each dilemma or problem and a thankful, thankful heart. Because even when faced with fear or negativity, there is so much in which we need to give thanks.

Happy Holidays.

You were diligent. It was 3am on Black Friday and  you were online scouring Best Buy’s website for what you wanted to buy. Once the items hit your cart and you received the confirmation, you rested a little easier. You might have even liked their, “Game On Santa,” commercials after the fact. Sadly, this morning several news and media outlets got word that Best Buy had been cancelling customer orders, or informing some customers that their products wouldn’t arrive by Christmas. With no word yet from CEO, Brian Dunn or the leadership team, the news has made the rounds on Twitter and Facebook. Some are calling for the end of Dunn’s leadership and are claiming Best Buy might “pull a Circuit City.” Sadly, after viewing the comments on the Yahoo News Article, people have a lot of frustration and bitterness at one of MN’s biggest retailers.

With no official word on what the company plans to do to mitigate the PR Nightmare, customers are spewing their own solutions. In one comment, someone stated this was the, “price America has paid for Best Buy outsourcing it’s IT jobs to Accenture, who outsourced to India.”  Bitterness, indeed.  One thing is certain, if Best Buy doesn’t act quickly to understand a very emotional situation, it could lose a large customer base.

Maybe some are too angry to see the implications if Best Buy fails, but I know dozens of friends who work at the corporate office in Richfield and in stores throughout the nation. Not shopping at the retailer because of a very large (and foreseeable) mistake is one thing, but literally dooming thousands into unemployment is another.  Seems to me, this has become a call to action and a turning point for big box retailers to take notice of.  Holiday gifts aren’t something to take lightly. If you read the comments, you saw dozens of entries speaking about how Christmas would be ruined. This, by far is the thing that breaks my heart the most. The irony of Best Buy’s ads this season, aren’t lost on me. We outsourced Santa’s job and then threw it in his forelorn and unjolly face.

These past two years in particular, we’ve been inundated with messages that Christmas depends on where we choose to shop. (Remember the famous TJMaxx Caroling Commercial?) Every time it came on my television, I winced and remember the originality that WAS Glee and flashmobs.  Now, not so much.

Christmas has become a machine that runs from mid-October to December 26th. Then suddenly, as the hype began, so do the regrets. How many hours did we spend at malls or online purchasing gifts instead of spending that time with our families? What precious moments did we miss because we HAD to chase a sale? This year, my shopping was done by late August. I picked Ava up a 1980′s Strawberry Shortcake Dollhouse, (that I scrubbed for hours,) at a thrift shop. Including all the furniture, it cost me $40.  Other six year olds asked for Ipads and televisions. Ava wanted a ‘special surprise’ from Santa. I think that foots the bill.

The truth is, we are partially to blame as well as Best Buy. No, we don’t want to hear it, because that would mean the burden also lies on us. It’s going to be hard to look people in the face and hand out pieces of paper instead of wrapped presents. But the hugs will be the same and the joy, (although lessened for one moment,) will create days of waiting and wanting those gifts to arrive. Why do we have a part to play in this? Because our greed knows literally, no bounds. We wanted it fast and we wanted it cheap, no matter the cost. We forgot the IT jobs were outsourced and some this Christmas had to go without because we needed a better deal. We pushed the bounds of what a retailer could do and demanded they conform to cheaper prices and more staff. Best Buy should have known the strength of their own sales, but just like Target’s debacle over Missoni, they somehow forgot the want and the wrath of their public.

It’s  actually easy for Best Buy to fix this. It’s a 3-step process that once started, will change perceptions and ultimately create a closer bond between retailer and buyer.

1.) Apologize. This apology needs to come from the top. Not board room where it was carefully crafted to avoid fault, but from Brian Dunn saying, “Next year, you’ll see things happen a little differently. We are already outlining the steps to correct our inventory system and to make sure that we don’t ever falter on our expectations, again.”  It should go out on Social Media, and be commented on from the articles, themselves. For success in a crisis, transparency and acknowledgement of the issue is sorely needed.

2.) Credit. This one may hurt the retailer at first. It may be seen by the bottom line moreso than anything else, but it will retain customers and ensure people that purchased products that their business truly matters. For everyone that doesn’t receive their gift on-time, a credit or giftcard should be sent. This is where greed walks a very, fine, line. Some in the comments have mentioned they deserve their purchases for free. I don’t believe that’s the case or that those people really feel that would be fair. However, a small credit with a written and personalized note, (it’s incredibly easy to do in today’s world,) would further state how much Best Buy appreciates their public. If nothing else, a note would remain a reminder that in any situation, the retailer wants to correct the problem.

3.) Change the Business Model.  For this not to happen again, (and it’s not just Best Buy who is experiencing this. Toys ‘R Us is also in the news for the same practice,) systems, inventory and staff need to be trained. Also, we as the public need to learn that it’s okay to shop for Christmas gifts throughout the year and during sales. I don’t need a big sign that says, “Buy Me For Christmas,” to think of those I love. I often tuck things away throughout the year.  It makes my holiday more special and more affordable. If retailers would focus less on Black Friday and focus more on competitive pricing throughout the year, they may notice a huge difference in all their quarterly numbers. No longer would December equal stress. Employment would be up year-round. We, as a society need to change first. But Best Buy has an incredible opportunity to WOW us with their future, instead of disappointing us with the present.

I’m hopeful. Call it Christmas cheer, or a season of forgiveness, but I can’t imagine anyone will love you less because of what gift you bring to Christmas. It’s simply, not about the gifts. It’s about supporting those that have less, encouraging everyone around us and giving our family the best ‘gift’ of all, our presence.

I have to be gentle.  My post in early 2010 about Mckmama Drama and Bullies had me questioning blogging in general and the antics of bloggers and their communities of haters, alike. Through the past year and a half, I haven’t re-engaged with discussing the drama, or the new websites that have crept up over Mckmama, because after receiving a few strange threats, it frankly wasn’t worth it. That was, until someone emailed me about the flagrant violations of FCC and FTC guidelines in the newest #AMillionMoms Contest.

What is the MillionMoms Contest? ABCNews decided to partner up with BlogFrog and national bloggers on a promotion that gives away an Ipad2, plus a gift bag. To win, you visit each blog and comment. Someone is chosen out of the blog with the most comments.

What is going on to cause the controversy? The problem is, entries are being deleted by the blog authors, themselves. When questioned, ABCNews, BlogFrog and Mckmama are all giving different answers.  Milehimama brought this to my attention with her passionate reporting and screenshots. Her own comments were ones deleted. When she questioned ABCNews, BlogFrog and Mckmama, she was given multiple scenerios and no clear answer of if her comments would still count as an entry. In FTC Guidelines, an author or promoter of a contest online cannot delete entries as that would be considered, fixing a contest.  The worst part, is that commentors are now banned from making any future comments on the contest or BlogFrog. Those that have already been banned on BlogFrog or Mckmama’s community, cannot enter the contest at all. The official contest guidelines can be seen here. It does not state that the author of each article is given the right to delete comments if they are not, ‘favorable or kind.’ Mckmama herself claims that she is only allowing comments through with the following.

“Yes, each BlogFrog blogger sets the commenting terms for their own community. Just like here on Facebook, I have chosen to require all comments left to be mature, polite and truthful. It my terms of use agreement, I thank everyone “for using healthy and respectful language.” Further, I explained that “we are here to support each other with ideas, suggestions, and tips. Accusatory or derogatory discussions and posts may be deleted as may language deemed inflammatory…” Untruthful comments or those that violated the above terms of use were therefor not allowed. The thread was a place for people to enter their healthy baby tips. However, every comment counted as an entry, even if it was deleted because it wasn’t an actual contest entry. How’s that for fair? No cover-up going on, just a desire for honesty and positivity.”



Are they really fixing the contest? After requesting some background, I have received over 6 emails of people whose comments have been deleted and are now being ignored. Any comment with a negative connotation, has been removed from the contest by Mckmama, herself. (Ironically, she is a BlogFrog administrator. See the irony?) When we only allow favorable comments through, we let the freedom of speech we fought so hard for, die. Below, are two of the comments that I was given permission to share:

1.) “My comment was deleted and I did contact ABC.  Gosh all I wrote was Shame on you ABC for not researching MckMama. Really?”  - Christina H.

2.) “I don’t have a screenshot of what I posted but here is what it said, in response to others saying their comments had been deleted: There are screenshots of proof that our 1st Amendment rights were taken away, and that by banning people from entering a contest I am contacting not only the FCC but also have phone numbers for ABC and I will be following up with this. There is no reason why comments on this article should have been deleted. Absolutely ridiculous. I posted it under a blogfrog account. When I went back and saw that the comment had been deleted, I tried again to post and there is a screen shot attached showing what it said when I tried to re-post.”  - Brittainy L.

Brittainy has been banned on BlogFrog after posting and being censored.

 

I want to be sensitive to all the other bloggers and ABCNews that is mixed up in the giveaway. Sadly, we don’t have all the facts.  MileHiMama cannot get a direct answer from ABCNews, BlogFrog or Jennifer Mckinney about the deletion of the comments and whether or not her entries (and dozens of others,) might still count.  If they do not count, this is in direct violation of giveaways and the FTC. For more background and Milehimama’s research, click here.  I appreciate when people are not afraid to stand for the truth while also giving respect to all sides. Milehimama has done, just that. I’ll be doing my best to update as we learn more.

Moving forward, as I often state, I wish companies did their research on who they affiliate themselves with and that those whose comments have been deleted, (as hard as it is,) could stick to the facts and not go on personal attacks. With professionalism, we can change this industry.

Though it’s not my place to get into Jennifer’s personal life, (nor do I want to,) the controversy surrounding her alone and her connections with Blogfrog make her own presence in the giveaway a blatant conflict of interest.

According to Milehimama’s blog,  here are some things you can do to help make the contest right.

Contact ABC News.
Phone: 212-456-7777 When I called, I had to (calmly, don’t get mad) repeat that I was calling regarding the Million Moms bloggers posted on ABCNews.com.  There were several transfers before I finally was sent to the correct department.  I personally spoke with a woman named Kimberly.
ABCNews contact form, for questions and comments about content (save a copy of what you send.)
ABCNews contact form, for technical issues using the site.  Missing comments are a technical issue.

Contact BlogFrog. Again, save a copy of your comments.
On Twitter: @theblogfrog, @hollyhamann, @rustinb

Contact the FCC, and fill out their online form.  ABC News is a television station, with a website (ABCNews.go.com)

Contact the FTC, and fill out their online form.

 

 

 

 

First and foremost, we are just fine. We found a heartbeat and without any proper diagnosis, I can’t tell you what the golf-ball sized -something- was. They have no idea.  I was still visibly shaking when I started typing this. John and I sat nose to nose in the ER and for the first time in our relationship, we prayed and wished and found the small grain of hope we knew was there, inside.

To read more… will you bear with me and click here:

http://www.girlmeetsgeek.com/2011/12/16/hope-for-july-31st

For the first time, I cannot get WordPress to attribute this link correctly to the front page. Many, many wonderful people left comments and I wanted to make sure an error didn’t occur if the old link didn’t work. Thank you so much.

I was still visibly shaking when I started typing this. John and I sat nose to nose in the ER and for the first time in our relationship, we prayed and wished and found the small grain of hope we knew was there, inside.

Earlier this week, I had a full biopsy of my cervix done and went home to sleep off the pain. They normally don’t recommend or do colposcopies and biopsies unless medically necessary. I was troubled and worried about a miscarriage. Even walking into the ER, I think I said something about the doctor preforming something un-necessary.

After cramping since the biopsy, I called the doctor in tears when we noticed a very large, bloody something. (I am so sorry. I never intended to over-blog medical or blood, guts and gore.) Journalists don’t talk about this stuff. I write about tech. This is bizarre.

Most of the time, I’m even-keeled and I would have cracked a joke walking into the clinic. It wasn’t until the doctor said, “Kate, I’m so sorry. Let’s have you come in,” that I really worried. Then I dropped to my knees, (literally,) and bawled. I asked for prayers on twitter, sent a DM that ended up as a public reply and called my mother in hysterical tears. Everyone said, “We are so sorry.” When we arrived at the hospital, I was a mess and John and I hugged each other crying. I put the little thing in a  Dixie Cup, (which caused the biggest tears in the first place.) Whatever it was, a Dixie Cup, didn’t do it justice. I felt complete remorse over carrying it in.

My mother once told a story once of how my aunt bagged her potential miscarriage to bring in. (Strangely, they ask you to bring it in.) I always imagined I’d flush whatever it was, silently grieve and move on. Being a parent changes us. I actually asked the nurse, “If this is our baby, can we bury it? I can’t imagine it in medical waste.” She smiled and held my hand and I got a great hug.

I tell you: Sincerely, I’m not one of those women who would live tweet or ask for prayers. I believe more in karma and God in equal amounts. Something snaps when you become a parent and something the size of a fingernail captures raw emotion like nothing else. I imagined a million scenarios in one, single, instant. If something ever happened to my kindergartener, I’ve often wondered how many people I’d offend with the diatribe that would escape my lips. I might throw myself with her in the grave.  Nothing prepares you for the thought of loss. Nothing. We act differently, we choose differently and ultimately, our raw emotion makes us REAL.

That DM that went public, elicited over a hundred kind replies. People I’ve never met were praying and holding my hand and telling me it would be okay. We didn’t really read anything until we left the hospital, but when I did I was overwhelmed with gratitude and love. They say that social media can’t reach across the computer and hold you or change a flat tire. What it can do, is give you the strength to keep breathing and focus on the next steps.

Nurse after nurse checked on me, (they were incredible,) and they all stared at the dixie cup in amazement. It deserved a zip code. It wasn’t normal. I was almost proud. Whatever it held, was special, bizarre and also… gross. I asked John, “Did I overreact? What if this is nothing?” He said, “Kate, this is by far, the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.”

As women, we have such a hard time with ‘over-reacting.’ We fear people thinking we are making a big deal of something and the consequence of those same people judging us weighs far too heavily. I wanted to be non-reactional. When I saw the look on the doctor’s face when she witnessed the Dixie Cup, and put it in a bio-hazard bag, I knew something was wrong. And then I lost it at seeing the cup near the bio-hazard bag.

I saw John cry, for the first time. These weren’t tears of frustration after an argument or anger, this was a belly sob that made me realize how heartfelt his love for the baby truly was. We wheeled into the Ultrasound room and the technician handed me kleenex. If there was ever a gut-wrenching time, it was when we couldn’t find the heartbeat. I asked John if he sawanything in the seemingly gigantic black bubble. It wasn’t until a flicker came on the screen that I actually breathed.  If anyone has been through the ultrasound process, they know that as a mom? You don’t care about your cervix or your tubes or your ovaries, you care about seeing a little flutter that melts your heart. In moments, there she was, on the screen. The tears started over again. (I imagine her as a phoenix now, always climbing up from the ash and reminding us that only she knows.) Phoenix would be a great name.

The doctor came in with a big smile and rubbed my shoulder. It had shaken us all. They took the …thing and they bagged it up. The doctor mentioned my cervix was scarred and it could potentially be a mixture of scar tissue and a mucus plug or something else entirely.  She noticed large amounts of skin shedding. (I know, who blogs this, right?) This scar tissue was the reason I was not supposed to get pregnant.  Tonight,  I get to be pregnant for another day. To me, that’s exciting, terrifying and wonderful. If nothing else, this kid is teaching me faith, again.

If we get through this pregnancy intact, it’s going to be a miracle.

This child has no story of, “We got married, planned you and then you were here.”  It has a story of, “We wished for you, you reminded us of your strength and now, we can’t imagine US without YOU.” Normal is boring and frankly normal and typical just don’t match us.

To everyone that replied to us on  Twitter, gave a call, email and dm’ed, I need you to know how much it means. To everyone who actually read this, (Thank you.) I’m so sorry to gross you out and bore you in equal amounts with body stuff. (Although, I happen to think bodies are amazing.) We should respect them more and worry less about our ‘gross’ blood, and our ‘disgusting’ features.

I promised John that I wouldn’t type this tonight, but I lied. He’s sitting next to me and knows exactly what I’m doing. I took my Zofran and now, I’m heading to bed. The thing is, nothing will prepare me for the loss, if it happens. For each trial, you love those around you more. That’s what separates our real love from the fake love that so often infiltrates our lives. Those moments of pain and anguish, make love grow, not the other way around. And I really love you guys. Goodnight.

When a work problem arose, I always assumed they called me first, but they probably didn’t. When relationship troubles came, I picked up the phone and said, “you’re right, you’re too good for that.” But in reality, I wondered if it was true. Their updates became the bain of my social network existence. When I pressed that holy ‘unfriend’ button, I suddenly felt like I had made the first rational decision in the ‘friendship’ to begin with.

I’ve been on an -unfriending- kick as of lately and nothing has ever felt this good. Knowing I had the power to let in and out of my life who I chose made me feel like a social network diety. I wondered how all my ‘connections’ had amassed to thousands of people that I wouldn’t want to have coffee with or pick up a call from at 1am. Wasn’t that the point of this all to begin with? Plus, it’s left me time to talk to and be with the people who I truly do love and support.

I know sometimes, others feel this way. Just the other day I was sitting across from a friend who said, “your health updates have been exhausting.” A little taken aback, but understanding I told her, ‘you should unfriend me.’ I think she thought I was kidding at first. When I said, “I’ll pick up the phone no matter what- Facebook doesn’t complete our relationship,”  she gave me a big hug and although she never went through with it, it showed we would be alright. Sometimes, that is all you need to know.

I’m different online than I am in person, but only slightly. I talk more business and I’m more positive than when spilling my guts out over a diet coke at a lunch place. Ultimately, I know that those relationships that truly are meant to last, are not defined by social media. And I’m not defined by my online connections, maybe a little better or sometimes a little irritated, but ultimately, I’m blessed by who I let in.

Facebook is known for the lack of privacy and selling personal information. Here’s a solid plan on how to be informed about who is using your information and where. Did you know that even when you purposely do not publish your real name or phone number, Facebook has found a way around that issue to still give out your data. Want to see?

According to this recent article posted on Law.com,

The FTC alleged that Facebook violated the FTC Act, which bars unfair and deceptive conduct, by falsely promising consumers that their information would be kept private. “On numerous occasions, Facebook violated its privacy commitments to hundreds of millions of users,” said FTC chairman Jon Leibowitz in a conference call with reporters.  

For example, the FTC alleged that Facebook changed its Web site in December 2009 so that previously private information, such as friend lists, were made public without warning users in advance or seeking their approval. Facebook also failed to reveal that third-party apps could access nearly all of users’ personal data. Facebook also promised users that it would not share their personal information with advertisers, but did so nonetheless. The company also claimed that when users deactivated or deleted their accounts, their photos and videos would be inaccessible. But Facebook allowed access to the content, even after users had quit.

The settlement bars Facebook from making any further deceptive privacy claims, requires that the company get consumers’ approval before it changes the way it shares their data, and requires that it obtain periodic assessments of its privacy practices by independent, third-party auditors for the next 20 years.

Facebook learned its lesson, right? Special Monitoring by no other than our government, (eek,) a slap on the hand… they hung their heads in shame? Not so much.  According to CBSNews.com, another privacy leak has been found. Just one week after the settlement was announced users found that their private photos were on display:

A member the bodybuilding.com forum discovered a security flaw in Facebook that would allow anyone to access a user’s private photos. That discussion thread has since been deleted.  The method was a roundabout way that would only come in handy if you wanted to block a user or report obscene photos.  Once a person is reported, an option popped up to help Facebook filter out the obscene content. If you checked off the “inappropriate profile photos” option, another box would give the option to report “nudity or pornography.” If this option was selected, Facebook displayed all of the user’s private photos.

How does Facebook get away with it all? The answer is very, very, simple: We are really, really ignorant. We are too trusting and far too kind when it comes to giving away our personal data.  I started cracking down over a year ago on who had my information and who I allowed to use it willingly. The first steps I took, was to truly lock down my Facebook profile. This meant, I controlled what people could see, how much they saw and whether or not my information was used in their advertisements.  I routinely check my Facebook monthly to make sure that my settings stay the same way I left them, (Facebook has been known to change user settings randomly and blame ‘glitches.’)

Protect yourself in 3, easy steps:

1.) Settings

One important setting that you need to be aware of is Facebook Ads. To find your advertising settings, go to: Account Settings —> Facebook Ads and read all the text. There are hidden check boxes after links. (Notice how it’s not straight-forward?) You need to look all over your profile settings for how Facebook has hidden it’s deceptive practices.

Ads shown by third parties

To find out about instant personalization, go to: Privacy Settings —>Apps, Games and Websites —> Instant Personalization —> Edit Settings. A video will come up telling you to be excited about selling your information for free. (Yes, I’m serious.) After you are done watching the video, you have to press CLOSE. Then you’re given access to your own settings.  What does it say?

Instant Personalization

We’ve partnered with a few websites to provide you with great, personalized experiences the moment you arrive, such as immediately playing the music you like or displaying friends’ reviews. To tailor your experience, these partners only access public information (like your name and profile picture) and other information you’ve made public. When you first arrive at the following sites, you’ll see a notification message and an option to turn off the personalized experience: Bing – Social Search Pandora – Personalized Music TripAdvisor – Social Travel Yelp – Friends’ Local Reviews Rotten Tomatoes – Friends’ Movie Reviews Clicker – Personalized TV Recommendations Scribd – Social Reading Docs – Document Collaboration To turn off instant personalization on all partner sites, uncheck the box below.   Enable instant personalization on partner websites.

Know all those annoying articles that come up in your timeline about what atrocious news stories your friends are reading? You can unclick that box and your information will not be shared with your friends.

2.) Photos

In October, I signed in to Facebook to see a photo of my friend Mandy getting a procedure done to her face. Knowing she was gorgeous, but way too busy to model, I decided to give her a call. “Mandy, you’re getting hair removal on the right hand side of my Facebook.”  She died laughing, (that was, until I emailed her the photo.) She recognized her own face instantly. Her children also pointed to the photo and said, “Mommy!” Mandy was very uncomfortable. The worst part? It was for a new hair-removal company in Minneapolis. Her photo had been stolen and photoshopped. It certainly grabbed my attention. When I asked Mandy if she locked down her photos she said, “No, because the kids are cute and I want family to be able to see.” It was then that Mandy got a very rude awakening. Anyone can right-click on a photo on facebook and save it.

Rule #1: Always, always lock down your facebook photos, especially  if you have children.

In early November, my profile photo was stolen and used for another person’s profile. How did I know? Facebook recognized the face with their recognition software and suggested that I friend myself. Many people reported the photo and the fake profile was taken down as a TOS violation.

Rule #2: Always watermark your photos. This is something I’m going to start doing, TONIGHT. I’ll use easy watermarking software and make sure all my photos are never used for advertising purposes. Will it deter someone 100%? No. Will it make it harder for them to use the photo? Yes. The only 100% deterrent, is to not use Facebook.

Did you know that simply uploading sharp and clear images anywhere, you make yourself the target of stolen identity or photos?

Rule #3: Never, ever upload ‘high-res’ images on  your facebook. If you need to keep client’s photos, or brand photos, consider using Flickr, a great alternative to Facebook photos with way, more privacy.

3.) Ditch the unsecure password

On every website you visit and subsequently give your personal information too, if you don’t protect that information with a hearty password, you might as well hand over the keys to your bank account or identity. Passwords are being hacked more and more often. To protect yourself, make sure your password has at least  variables. What are variables?

1.) Uppercase letter

2.) Lowercase letter

3.) Number

4.) Punctuation

5.) Symbol

Here’s an example of a poor password that looks good: 121399jfg  It looks solid, right? If that’s one of your children’s  birthdays or perhaps your anniversary, STOP IT! It’s easy to hack, especially if your information is everywhere. Consider a password like this: G1raff3!23  It’s easier to remember then you think. Keep your passwords on a secure file, (flashdrive that is with you not with the computer,) or a piece of paper in a locked cabinet. Think I’m over-reacting? Here is a great article from over 4 years ago. Remember, technology has changed A LOT in the last few years. If a layman or woman can do it, any machine can.

You can stay safe by educating yourself about the risks and knowing how certain websites are using your private data.

Dear Mr. Perry,

America wasn’t founded on a platform of Christianity, it was founded on so much more.  We fought for land of freedom to choose any religion and the freedom to ELECT officials that matched our personal beliefs. America was also founded on the right to practice any believe without scrutiny, or conflict. The fact that you call this  video ‘Strong’ just shows how out of touch you truly are.

Do you know what truth strength is? It’s standing up for the underdog and not bullying those different from yourself. Your speech of hatred and intolerance isn’t welcome in my ears or in my home. In fact, I flagged your video for “hatred and abuse,” under the category, “sexual orientation.”

America can’t be everything to everyone, but we should realize that our outdated beliefs of  intolerance against the LGBT community are this generation’s civil war. Just 60 years ago, politicians tried to actually tell voters that African Americans were less than their white counterparts. Some listened to those in office, too ignorant to think for themselves. Strength, is marching down Capitol Hill and fighting for rights for each and every individual, regardless of creed, race, color or sexual orientation.

I don’t identify with Republican or Democrat, Libertarian or any other label that I’ve been told I have to select. I identify with the beliefs I am trying to teach my daughter and those are steadfast in my home. Those ‘gays in the military,’ you speak of, have unselfishly and proudly fought for our rights without thanks or recognition. For someone who claims to want an ‘ideal’ image, I wonder how your children can look you in the face after you spew such ignorance, disrespect and hatred.

Someday, the war on personal freedom and the right to marry won’t be a war at all. We are truly no more advanced of a country if we fail to recognize the most basic of rights from our brothers and sisters. You didn’t allow comments on your video. If you did, you might have seen that there are over 109 thousand DISLIKES to almost 3 thousand LIKES.  Some may call you a coward for hiding behind a flag you know nothing about, but I just call you someone who will never wake from a very harmful mentality. Enjoy your coma while we evolve you spineless, horrible, man.

And for anyone that claims it’s just his ‘campaign speech?’ Look again. Every hateful remark like this, puts a crack in our country. If we continue this cycle of denying those amongst us rights and recognition, we will quickly be un-repairable. No amount of glue can fix Perry’s broken mindset, but we can speak out and change the future. It’s time.

After talking to a friend tonight and filling them in on steamy health gossip and telling myself, “one foot in front of the other,” all I could think of was a vacation destination; someplace sunny and gluttoneous wheat-filled trays of non-gluten-free items. I couldn’t help a moment of feeling stupidly sorry for myself and the want to take a deep breath. Me, who never broke a bone was becoming one of those people you watch on, “Mystery Diagnosis,” and secretly wonder if they are making it all up. And in truth, some nights when Ava was asleep and I was alone I imagined that my hair was fine, I wasn’t sick and that I never had to go through cervical cancer. The past 6 months have taught me, perseverance at all costs. I know looking back, if I could handle a full-time client load, plus a full-time job, a child, a home, relationships and the want to change the world, I could do anything.

It started in April.  I went in for a series of treatments for my cervix. I, had put off for months what needed to be done. I looked down when the doctor recommended a hysterectomy.  I toiled and worried, fought my insurance and convinced myself that this too, would make  me stronger. I imagined myself marching again on Capitol Hill this year and demanding change.  Afterall, what I had tried so hard to save would be gone. Surely that was a platform that congress could understand. Planned Parenthood published  my story and I felt stronger than before, but I ignored the advice and I went in for screenings and promised to eat healthier than already healthy. It wasn’t a risk because the threat wasn’t defined to me. I sat across from my parents and cried like a toddler that scraped her knee. I was angrier about what was going to be taken away then what was going to be left. I told myself, if I wanted something badly enough, I could make it happen.

September brought with it more tests and procedures and a doctor visit where I sat and for the first time in my life, the endocrinologist explained that waking up almost every morning and throwing up was not normal. He said, no more gluten, They took my blood, (lots of blood,) and they promised it would be better.  No gluten for 2 months and then we’ll test you again. They were convinced it was Celiac’s disease. All I could think of was breadsticks and delicious, soggy ice cream cones and a stupid dream that wouldn’t go away.

October brought the diagnosis I had been dreading for 3 years. They didn’t have a reason that my hair was falling out. It wasn’t related to the thyroid, but it wasn’t inexplainable. The doctor looked in my eyes and said, “Sometimes, it just happens.” I thought of my hairbows at thirty post I tried on a wig and I pulled my chin up and said,”I’m alright,” because it was just hair.

And it was just a cervix. And it was just wheat. I had never broken a bone and for that, I was strangely thankful.

And then, like magic on a Saturday evening not long ago I looked over at J. sitting on the couch next to me and I said, “I feel about 92 months pregnant.” He laughed and I laughed and we had the normal discussion of, “Can you imagine a baby?” And then, I fell quiet and bitter and almost to prove to myself that maybe this was it, maybe after being told over and over that my chances of having another were so slim it wasn’t worth the birth control or the hope or whatever I feeling, I decided to take a pregnancy test.  And the line was faint and holy and wonderful and scary and magnificent. And all I could think was, “I cannot believe after everything else that my hormones are this screwed up that it’s pretending to give me the one thing I’m not sure I could really handle.”  I called the doctor and the doctor giggled and told me to take a few more. They were lined up like soldiers on the bathroom counter, all 8 of them filled with a blasphemous idea. I called J. in and he ran out for more.

I had long wondered about the day when I lost hope. If I could do it again, things would be different.  I wouldn’t have hid at 25 out of shame or embarrassment to satisfy some patriarchal craving of wanting to make everyone happy. I would have worn tight shirts over my large, protruding and hobbit-like belly. I would have dared to go to the birthing class alone and proud. I would have literally, died to look into someone’s eyes and say, “We did it.” Or maybe even, “Mom, Dad, we have news.”

But you see, this isn’t a sad post, because it’s bittersweet. A little girl sleeps in the other room and my home keeps us warm. Sometimes she sings herself to sleep and I know it’ll only be a matter of months before she slowly loses all the little baby things that I cherish.  J. sits beside me and I wonder what it might be like to not fight so hard to be a single mother anymore, and allow this all to happen. He runs out to the store to pick up malt cups, (with the little, wooden, spoons,) and I sit with my hand over my stomach not knowing what may happen but knowing that for 6 weeks and 4 days, I’ve been pregnant.

They tell me, “We need to watch you closely.” My chance of miscarriage is high and that with the other complications I need to be positive and hopeful, but reserved. They’ve already started me on Zofran, the wonderdrug of hyperemesis women everywhere. (God bless you, Zofran.) Because I’m not sure what might happen, tomorrow could bring a bus accident or a meteor shower that ends us all, and it could bring another horrendous and weird ailment for someone who’s never broken a bone. I’ll tell you that on July 30th, 2012, when this is all over I think this little person may have saved my idea of ‘hope’ in the first place. You may not believe it, because I still can’t. But I know one, single, thing. No matter what comes my way, I’ve pushed on, came up for air and marched through all because I don’t know another way. I don’t know how not to find success when everything else falls down. And frankly, I don’t know how NOT to hope for the best. Even if this is just a shooting star moment, it happened and I’m thankful.

I’d like to introduce you to CRAVE, an international company with a local focus.

“CRAVE innovatively connects urban gals to the sassiest, gutsiest, most inspiring people they need to know in Minneapolis and St. Paul. Our modern marketplace of soirees, gatherings and online networking serves as your ambassador to everything there is to CRAVE about the Twin Cities.”

 

What I love most about CRAVE is their passion in connecting local business women to one another and to allow each other to network, inspire and create long-lasting relationships to help women achieve.  Some might say CRAVE is just a book, I say it’s a lifestyle.  As women, we need to influence each other to grow and claim our dreams.  By featuring stories, insights and advice from local women here in the Twin Cities, CRAVE is helping entrepreneurs; young and old. When I want to shop local and support women, I shop CRAVE. With stores online, and around the Twin Cities, these women are offering incredible discounts to book-holders and insight to their businesses.

The company, started by Melody Biringer, brings together local executives, business owners and artists unlike any other publication. For me, flipping through the latest edition has given me the same buzz that lit up my wings in 2010. When women support and nurture each other, amazing things can happen.

Melody is a friend of mine who has become one of my greatest inspirations. Always intelligent and to the point, our conversations have evolved into passionate talks about entrepreneurship  and  eliminating our own glass ceilings.  You can follow Melody on Twitter, or visit her website to learn more about her new book and her ability to inspire and connect.When flipping through the pages of the 2010 book, it was my first time seeing my words in print. My daughter’s hands touched the pages as I snapped photos and knew this was a beautiful launching pad.

After having CRAVE as one of my favorite clients and being in both editions, you could say for one time in my life, I’m proud to embrace the pink. To celebrate my success in both editions and Melody’s vision, I am hosting a giveaway to celebrate and encourage empowerment among women in business.

1-  lucky winner will win a 2010 edition of CRAVE and the BRAND NEW 2011 edition of CRAVE & a few of the best swag bag items from the launch party.

2- lucky winners will receive the BRAND NEW 2011 CRAVE edition.

To win, simply answer this question in the comments: {WHAT WOMAN HAS INSPIRED YOU?}  I’ll pick 3 winners via random.org and I’ll notify via email, Twitter and Facebook by Monday, December 5th. Anyone can comment and share a personal story or historical figure.

{In full disclosure, no FTC regulations apply. These are my copies of the book to distribute. I am so honored to be a part of both editions and grouped with these incredible women.}

{Update} Each person who replied with a story below in the comments will receive a book.  The winner of the grand prize pack is…… AMANDA KP! Or Random #4. Congratulations! I’ll be contacting you ALL in the next day!

2011 has solidified my sordid love affair with Infographics. The always inspirational, @LarsLeafblad posted an article this evening, entitled, “10 Insanely Awesome Inspirational Manifestos.”   Of a few on the list, this one spoke to me the loudest.  You can visit ExpertEnough for more daily inspiration, how-to’s and simple solutions. I’m a huge fan. GirlmeetsGeek’s tagline used to be, “The difference between passion and passing it on is only two letters. Find yours.” With our eyes open, the world has so much to offer.