Arianna Huffington Spoke to Me Today

Well, not just to me... I attended a talk today held by Arianna Huffington. She is a very beautiful, witty, and accomplished (cough, cough deal with AOL) woman. I know some people really give her hell, but dammit, I like her. 

Not because she is an unabashed conservative turned liberal, not because she is media royalty, but because she gave me some really solid advice. Here is what I learned from Madame Huffington today: 


1. Don't worry so damn much. Alice Caldwell Rice once said, "It ain't no use putting up your umbrella till it rains!" Women have the tendency to worry about every thing -- work, family, friends, pets, plans, strangers on the street. If you aren't aware, you can be in a constant state of worry. That's me all the way, half my freakin' problems are things that haven't happened yet (most of which never do). So cut it out, focus on what you can do today and what you have control over. Problems are rarely as bad as we worry they will be. 


2. Get some sleep. Arianna told us a story about how she was so exhausted, overworked / stressed etc., that she fainted at her desk one day and fractured her cheek bone and almost lost an eye. If that doesn't scare you into getting more sleep, believe the truth that when you are sleep deprived, your brain is not working at its best. So your ideas aren't as innovative, your analysis isn't as comprehensive, and you stop making any sense to the people around you. Don't charge your phone/laptop/ipad by your bed side, you'll find yourself waking up throughout the night to check on things that will be there in the morning. Charge your devices in another room and go to sleep at night. 


3. Stop listening so much to your inner critic. We all have one, that voice that tells us we aren't smart enough, pretty enough, charming enough. The voice that tells us we need to lose weight, wear a shit-ton of make-up, have better etiquette, date the a*hole because we can't do any better -- that voice, that inner critic, throw that bitch out with the garbage. You are a wonderful person with much to offer the world, but no one is going to believe that until you do. Censor your inner critic until she knows she is only welcomed to speak at guest appearances that solely comedic in nature (after all, you have to be able to laugh at yourself sometimes).


Thanks Arianna, I needed this little reminder today.  

How to crack the Twitter Code

So I am doing a bit of a research experiment --- via a usability test and contextual interview (I love my Marketer speak) --- via the human male who lives in my apartment. My boyfriend has decided to begin tweeting. The infamous Twitter now has a permanent presence in my home. We were sitting on the couch one Tuesday night (tonight) enjoying some rum and pink lemonade, trying to forget the troubles of the day, when the subject of his experience on Twitter came up. Here is what we discussed: 


Me: When did you first start tweeting? 
Boyfriend (BF): About a week ago, but I've been reading tweets for about two months now. 


Me: So do you consider yourself a conversationalist or a spectator? 
BF: I am definitely more of a spectator, I am still trying to get used to the rules. But in the future I plan to be more of a conversationalist. Also my workstation at my job blocks Twitter so it makes it difficult to get used to doing it all the time.  


(So at this point he knows I am interviewing him for my blog, so now he is on a "real" interview --- bore bore / snore snore!)


Me: So, this is my blog, you need to keep it real. What are you getting out of this Twitter experience? Why tweet in the first place? I am going to stop writing and just listen for a while, what's this whole twitter thing about anyway? 
BF: As you know, I am getting ready to start business school in the fall. I am over my job and so I sit at work all day and read interesting articles and commentary across different internet sites. While this may not be ideal for my current employer, it's ideal for me as I prepare for my post-MBA career. So fuck it, it's interesting. If I weren't blocked at work, I'd use twitter to share these interesting finds with the world, but for no other reason than I find it interesting. 


Me: So, it's kind of a way for people to get to know you via your interests? 
BF: Yea


Me: But, what about the fact that many of your followers are strangers? 
BF: I think that's even better! The fact that they are strangers means they may be more willing to be honest because they aren't my friends, so they have no need to be nice. And hey, you never know, we may become friends later. 


Me: (Giving the side eye to the "friends later" comment...)
BF: (Tries to clear it up by adding an additional caveat) Friend meaning someone I continue to converse with via Twitter. 
Me: "Uh-huh"

Me: What about the BS you tell me you've read on Twitter, some of which from actual friends... what do you think about that? The fact is, it's not all about people sharing interesting articles they came across during the 8 hours they spend at their crappy job. Some people tweet ignorance and you are friends with them. 
BF: You have to define what you are using Twitter for, and get out of it what you want to get out of it. You can get cluttered with crap from people, but the great thing about Twitter is you can just un-follow someone with a click of a button (I have already decided not to follow some of your friends--your friends being the people you referenced as tweeting ignorance) 


Me: Fair enough, I acknowledge it was likely some of my friends with the WTF tweets, so I will just leave that hot potato where it lands... 


I guess overall folks, the bottom line is times are a'changing and people can share / will share every thought, perspective, fleeting emotion they can possibly muster up on a social media platform (hey, I blog, and what is a blog but a long a-- tweet??). The moral of the story is you have to find a place for it in your life and be comfortable with that. You don't have to be a tweeter, a blogger, a Facebooker, pick from the noise what sounds like a sweet melody and make it work for you. 


I will continue to keep you posted on my BF's Twitter explorations, at least the parts where he isn't talking about his boring posts about interesting articles, we will focus on the more juicy exploits on this blog!. 


#Notsureiftwitterandboyfriendsmix 


Tweet, Tweet! 

The Truth Is... YOU are beautiful, THEY are airbrushed

Of course we have all heard the saying, "Celebrities are airbrushed on the cover of magazines. You shouldn't beat yourself up for not looking like them." So yea, we all know it. No one is truly flawless, and while cameras can be brutal, the technology that can enhance the resulting images can be kind. We all know it, but sometimes are brains don't always factor in what we know. 


But I thought it would be nice to do this post, just as a reminder to all the naturally beautiful women out there, with maybe a pimple because of pms, or a wrinkle because of wisdom, or gray because between your boss, your kids, and your spouse, you don't have time (or the energy) to get to a colorist -- that hey, remember all of those "flaws" make you who you are, and that is truly beautiful. And if your kids and spouse ask you what you want for Christmas, tell them that Madonna's airbrusher for the family holiday photo would totally rock. 

Cameron Diaz

Britney Spears

Iman

JLO

Katy Perry

Madonna

Lady O

Scarlett Johansson

The Older Man vs. The Younger Man ... Ding Ding!

The other day, I read an interesting short article in Glamour Magazine on whether women should be willing to date older or younger men. The article was written from the perspective of two women, one married to an older man and one married to someone younger. In making their respective arguments. I must admit that both happily married women raise great pros. 

Older Men: 

• Are like walking encyclopedias -- they have lived so much more of life, that they are always good for an interesting story or fun fact
• Can offer good career advice
• Know how to make minor repairs to your car 
• Are expert back-rubbers
• Don't take the 'argument bait' -- they can see your moody butt coming, and will just wait for the tide to turn instead of getting all hysterical 

Younger Men: 

• Are 'presoftened' by the society of the last 30 years -- Women's rights, gay rights, he is just more open and more receptive 
• Are more willing to break gender roles -- again, because of his presoftening, he is willing to change diapers, cook dinner, and do laundry and he is more than happy to support your career choices 

Both sides of the article spoke to me. But here is what I think: in this day and age, with the divorce rate at almost 50% and more and more women reaching 40, 50 and still single (despite their efforts to find their soul mates), women need to be open to both groups of men. The older man you prefer may not always be the Jeopardy wiz or the calm in your PMS storm, he might be a stubborn bull who is so completely stuck in his ways, that there is just no way he can fit you and the things you want into his already rigid life. The younger man might not always be the progressive feminist, he might be the immature 25 year old that despite being out of undergrad for four years, is still the frat boy who does keg stands at your parent's retirement party and smokes doobies during his lunch break. 

So ladies, taste the rainbow. Being open to at least that first date. Try to take the age, race, height, etc. crap off the table for one evening, you may just find exactly what you need. 

I Ain't Gonna Play In Sun City

All this talk of celebrities that were paid big bucks to perform for Qaddafi has got me wondering -- is there really any limit to things human beings will do for money? 


So people are going to argue that maybe, at the time, the performer had no idea who s/he was performing for... I guess I can probably believe that. But I think I also agree with the fact that it doesn't mean they shouldn't be accountable. I mean, isn't that why you have all these people around you? Isn't it someone's job to do some homework / background check on the people you do private parties for? Even your neighborhood stripper sends someone ahead of her to make sure the bachelor party is on the up-and-up. Okay, I need to reel it in, I'm on the verge of creating a completely different conversation and blogpost. 


I think that leaves us with this: there will be times in all of our lives when a decision has to be made -- make the money or do the right thing. And sometimes, it's on all of us, not just the responsibility of the Angela Davis or the Malcolm X or the Mahatma Gandhi... No, the  the school teacher, the waitress, the banker, the lawyer, the PR agent, and the Usher's Beyonce's of the world also have to stand up. 


In homage of this important lesson, I leave you with a very special song. Sun City is a great song by the music group Artists United Against Apartheid. Sun City is an interracial gambling resort in South Africa, located in a bantustan, a nominally independent area supposedly ruled by black Africans, in the middle of an impoverished community. Artists who played there during that troubled time in South Africa were considered in defiance of the United Nations-sanctioned cultural boycott against the Apartheid. Enjoy + remember to stand up for justice folks - 

Cats > Babies

Yes, I said it. Cats are better than babies. In fact they are purrrrrfect children (pun intended). I know I am almost 30 and I know it's the 'circle of life' or one of 'life's milestones' or whatever you folks are calling it these days, but I am just not that into it. By 'it' I mean this baby craze that has officially taken over all of my friends, and I do mean all -- friends from high school, college, grad school -- everyone, and I do mean, EVERYONE is having a baby around me right now. 


You response is probably, 'hey, Ms. Bitter, why the sour grapes?' But I am not bitter, I swear! I am not sour either. I am just more disappointed by how these beautiful, independent, smart women I know and love have digressed to only posting Facebook pictures of their babies (even their profile pictures are pictures of their babies!) and how every status, tweet, text message, voicemail message, word-that-comes-from-their-mouths is somehow, someway, baby related. What happened to the other things you cared about? You know, like politics, entrepreneurship, the economy, volunteering, philanthropy, friendships and just general relationships with other humans who speak in complete sentences and go to the bathroom on their own? 


Is this what happens when you have children? Is the woman you worked hard to develop, grow and mature, the woman you've nurtured to become not just a star, but her own sun... Was she made only to become a moon (and not THEE moon, but I mean a less important moon, that revolves around Pluto -- yes I know it isn't a planet anymore) that orbits around a baby? Don't get me wrong, I love children, I really do. I think they are one God's greatest gifts, which is exactly what scares me the most. Am I going to become just like one of these women I speak of? Am I destined to be a moon one day? 


This is why I love my cat. He totally rocks, he is an awesome companion, he is an independent spirit that doesn't NEED me to love him. He has proven on more than one occasion that I am free to space travel (as long as I leave him ample food and water) and he will be here to reward me with a lovely lap nap and purr. In terms of relationships with children, it really gets no better than this. Indeed, Cats > Babies. The more I think about it, maybe I am already one of those people, because I talk about my cat wayyyy too much. Maybe I am actually destined to be one of those crazy cat ladies...


And you have to know, I am no wanna-be Carrie Bradshaw, or her awesome friend Samantha. No, no, no, motherhood definitely has a place in my future. I just don't want to lose myself, the woman I know, and my friends know, and love in order to do it. But until I figure out the secret to keeping me, Cats > Babies. 

It Goes Down Again at the Leadership Academy

News hit the net a few days ago that one of Lady O's students at the Leadership Academy in Johannesburg, South Africa gave birth to a baby that was subsequently found dead in a plastic bag. It is not yet confirmed whether this baby was born dead or whether it died and the death was concealed. A very sad story indeed. Even sadder is the fact that this is not the first tragic story involving the Oprah Winfrey Leadership Academy -- a school matron was accused of molesting students in 2009.

Now I know there are a ton of Oprah fans out there. In fact, I am close friends with some of them. I know plenty of the "I love Oprah, she is so amazing" and the "I want to be like Oprah when I grow up" and of course the "I would give my left arm to be in Oprah's presence" types. So forgive me for confessing: I am not a fan. Don't get me wrong, she has accomplished great things, her contribution to daytime television is unparalleled and she has given a great deal of cash to worthy organizations. Bravo Ms. Winfrey. But to be completely honest, I am not one of those people who live by the O-bible. I don't really jive with the "Live your best life" or the "Learn from the Masters" mantras she pushes. The fact of the matter is, it is very easy for Oprah to claim this enriched life experience because she is rich and the greater fact is none of us regular-folk are likely to even come close to the life she leads.

But the real reason why I just can't love Oprah the way her followers do is because, let's face it, the woman has made a shit ton of money on the pain, failings, heartaches, injuries, and misfortunes of others. This is compounded by a superhero image she has created for herself. Having grown up in a poor family, with stories of misfortune that you wouldn't believe, maybe I feel especially averse to her. 

What is especially sad about the stories that have come from the Leadership Academy is these young women are there because of a promise of a better life, a brighter future. Given the stories that have come out of the Leadership Academy thus far, this future will be tarnished with some of the same evils they would have faced outside the doors of the Leadership Academy, maybe even worse. 

While opening a school in Africa truly appeals to the liberal in all of us, it doesn't come without an ego stroke, or two. And while the superhero receives the admiration and kudos, young women at the Leadership Academy are not having the positive experiences they've been promised. 

  

Nothing is Ever Enough

When I look around at my closest friends, I can't help but see how incredibly blessed we are. MBA's, JD's, MD's, etc., all with great apartments in NYC, good jobs, and great friends to share our lives with. 


But for some reason, we are all still unsatisfied with what we have. There must be a better job, a better boyfriend, a better apartment, a better LIFE, somewhere out there. Nothing is ever enough. Some might call this ambition. Some might call this greed. 


I read an article today by a Life Coach who supported her two clients in achieving their dreams. One client thought that if she started her own business she would be more fulfilled. The other client felt that having a baby would be the realization of a lifelong dream. Both achieved these goals and are now more stressed than they were before. The entrepreneur can now bask her achievement but works 3x's more than she did before and the new mom has to manage both the good and the challenging things that come along with motherhood.


Reading this article immediately reminded me of myself and my nearest and dearest. Why is it that we can't just be satisfied with what we have? When will what we have be enough? Will it ever be enough? I am guessing the answer to this question is probably a resounding, 'heck no'. I guess stories like the one from the Life Coach just reminds me that in the midst of my quest for the best life, I have to remind myself just how great my life is already. 

NY Fashion Week

I love clothes. I am far from a fashionista, at least by New York City standards (though my boyfriend would say much to the contrary given I have claimed about 3/4 of our 1 New York City closet. But what does he know, a girl needs options!). In tribute to the city-wide holiday known as NY Fashion Week (Feb 10-17), here are a few of my favorite photos: 

Happy Fashion Week Everyone! :-) 

The Stories I'll Tell My Children

On February 16, 2011, Borders filed for bankruptcy and announced it would begin closing its stores. My boyfriend and I were on our way to dinner last night, when we passed a Barnes & Noble. We started chatting about whether B&N would be around in 5 or 10 years. True, the Nook has helped the company turn the page (ha! pun!) on the business of selling publications, but how long will it be before we have no use for paper-bound books? 


The thing is, I LOVE books. You should see how I live. I live in a 700 sq ft apartment with a man and a cat, yet I have managed to dedicate about half of the living room to books (my boyfriend is an avid reader so he doesn't complain, and my cat is an avid climber, so it's a win for him as well). I understand the convenience of having an e-reader, carrying around 100 books in my purse sounds like an appealing proposition to me as well. But for some reason, I just cant get myself to purchase one of these gadgets. 


E-readers are to me what computers and AOL dial-up were to my grandmother. My granny loved the 'old' way of communicating, you know calling someone on the phone and chatting for a half hour, writing a letter and dropping it in the mail. Sure, she played solitaire on the computer from time to time, but never took to the idea of speaking to her friend Ms. Gloria in a chat room (remember when people actually spent their time in chat rooms? Boy I am getting old). That's how I feel about the e-reader, sure I will dabble on a friend's iPad (I <3 crazy birds), but I can't see myself reading digital books. 


I know some of you are probably thinking, girl, get with the program! Don't get caught on the wrong side of the digital divide! But.I.just.can't. Divide be damned, here I stand. So with Borders closing (Googling my nearest NYC storefront, so I can buy a new tower for my kitty), I feel a bit sad. Bookstores (and God forbid traditional libraries) may one day just be a term I will have to explain to my children, when they interrupt one of my old lady 'when I was your age' stories with a quizzical, "Mom, what's a bookstore?" 


But thanks to Amazon, they will at least know what book means... I hope... damn that Kindle.