In a few days, I’m heading out to my first ever blogger conference. Mom 2.0 Summit on Key Biscayne. Four days at the Ritz-Carlton. And I can’t wait.
But I’m also a little nervous. Which is such an odd feeling for me. I’m too old to get nervous about this kind of thing. Right?
I guess not.
This is a big deal for me. I’m going to be meeting a lot of new people. (A few hundred.) Some who I already know virtually but have never met face to face. Others whose work I’ve read and followed and admired from afar. Like a harmless stalker. And still others I know nothing about but whose stories I’m interested in hearing and whose experiences I’m sure to learn from.
All of this anticipation got me to thinking, in the middle of the night of course, that there will be tons (hundreds) of people there that won’t know a thing about me. They may have never read my blog or seen some of the random things I tweet.
So they don’t know that my blog is kind of like a diary: funny and honest and full of things that some people wouldn’t say out loud. Or post on the Internet.
I write about divorce and remarriage, parenting and step-parenting. I can be a bit in your face and I like the element of surprise. You know when you read something and think, “Whoa, I didn’t see that coming.” Sex, ex-husbands, conversations with my teenagers. It’s all in there. And some of my readers get a lot of laughs from it. Others, just a chuckle. And, so I’ve been told, a lot of people can relate to what I write. And it may even be helpful to them, if they’re going through something that I’ve been through. And it’s that last part that I really love.
I’ve been reading some of the bios, and the blogs, of the wonderful women who will be at Mom 2.0. Speakers and attendees. And feel like I’m getting to know them. And I want them to get to know me.
So I’ve put together a list of things that most people don’t know about me. And then when we meet on Thursday, and on through the weekend, we’ll feel like old friends.
10 Things You Might Not Know About Me
1. I wear a vibrating wrist watch to bed on school nights. And no, it’s not for what you think. It’s so I don’t wake up my husband when I get up at 5:30 am with my high schooler. The school year is almost over and I hate the watch. It feels like a shackle.
2. Every single time I wash my hair, a lot of it falls out. Then, when I blow dry it, more falls out. It’s a scientific wonder that I’m not bald. Unfortunately, one of my husband’s pet peeves is seeing hair on the bathroom floor. And I’m the only one to blame since he doesn’t have any.
3. My second child was supposed to be a VBAC. (I have Cephalo-pelvic disproportion.) After a few hours of pushing, the doctor didn’t like the way my abdomen looked so she wheeled me in to the operating room and did a C-section. And then told me I had almost had a uterine rupture. Thanks Dr. Bone, for saving mine and my kid’s lives.
4. I had a Salad Supreme childhood. I love that stuff. It’s my favorite seasoning. On eggs, on cottage cheese and in this pasta salad. My mom made something similar but she added some shrimp. Seriously yum. But nobody seems to have heard of it but me. And my brother.
5. I have two whiskers on my chin that keep growing back no matter how many times I pluck them. (Last year, I only had one. Doesn’t bear well for next year.)
6. I always wear three rings. No more, no less. And each ring connects me to different members of my family: my mother, my grandmother, my brother and my husband. (I know. Three rings, four people. Read the post.)
7. My stepdaughter really does have red hair.
8. My first job out of college was at Bloomingdale’s 59th St. store in Manhattan. In their Executive Training Program. I worked in the Men’s Underwear and Pajama department. I once sold a bathrobe to Howard Cosell. And silk paisley pajamas to Michael Spinks.
9. I wear a retainer most nights when I go to bed. I’m supposed to wear it every night. On Date Night Thursdays (the night when my kids are with their father), I never wear it. Usually because I’ve had a few glasses of wine. Sometimes because it’s just not sexy. And potentially painful.
10. In my wedding announcement, the first time around, the community paper noted that, though I had received my MBA from NYU, I was now getting my MRS. Seriously? It was 1995. The second time around, I wrote my own announcement.
Phew. So there you have it. I now feel slightly less nervous. And a little closer to you.
Is there anything you’d like to share? I’m listening.