Updated: Click here to listen to my radio debut, cut down in to sound bytes that make me look like the world’s biggest loser. You’ll hear me complain about my lack of Twitter friends and give horrible parenting advice. Basically an audio version of what this entire blog entails. Happy listening!
Remember earlier today when I posted about Twitter? Did any of you read it? No. Well, fine, screw you. How about my post on Monday about the Bryant Park Project? What? You want more stories about Abbie’s baby? Well, that’s going to have to wait.
Let’s pause for a bit of a backstory:
I started listening to the Bryant Park Project on NPR earlier this month. I now listen to the podcast most days and sit at my desk pretending I’m not in suburban Kansas City, but that I’m in a hi-rise in New York wearing funky necklaces and talking about how great Brooklyn is for kids. The total NYC wannabe comes out and I can’t make it go away. Kind of like that time when I went to a club in KC and told everyone I was from Brooklyn, and when they asked where in Brooklyn, I pretended not to hear them.
Today, while listening to the BPP podcast, I checked my personal email (yes, I’m a bad employee). In my inbox was a note from my bud Lane saying she had joined Twitter and wanted to follow me on the site. I thought to myself, “Hmmmm…maybe I should check my Twitter account.” And then I ate a box of Hot Tamales.
Which should have been the end of the story. But wait! There’s more.
I decided since I had deleted Facebook and MySpace, I could probably stand updating Twitter. I mean, it’s just one site, right? And I don’t have to upload pictures or tell anyone what books I’ve read lately (answer: zero). So I started adding famous bloggers, presidential candidates and random friends. Oh, and also, the BPP.
Little did I know that I would end up being the BPP’s 1000th Twitter follower, leading me to be interviewed for tomorrow’s show and sounding like the king of all dorks on a national radio program. When I told Trent what had happened his response was, “Well, you’re funny on paper, but not so much in person.” Exactly. I sound like a helium-sucking, Gap-wearing, Kansas-raised doofus on the phone. So I can only imagine how fantastic I will sound on the radio.
I’ll post links to the interview when they are up. In the meantime, you can find me hiding in the corner of my office, eating a second box of Hot Tamales and muttering incoherently to myself.
http://www.crazybananas.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/Crazy_Banans_Logo_WebsiteBanner.png00Meganhttp://www.crazybananas.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/Crazy_Banans_Logo_WebsiteBanner.pngMegan2008-04-24 17:00:352008-04-25 08:35:50Next I'll Be Seen on Celebrity Fit Club with Dustin Diamond
I’ve resisted for so long, but I think I’ve finally given in. After I cancelled my MySpace and Facebook accounts, I decided that updating this website was all the Internet needed from me. I mean, how much do I really need to spew to the world? Does anyone really care? I wouldn’t.
In all of my self-righteouss indignation, I forgot to mention that even though I left those two social networking platforms, I have not quit everything cold turkey. I still have a professional LinkedIn page for work and I still have a Twitter account that I never update. But since I removed my Facebook link, the left sidebar of this page looked a little abandoned, so I decided to replace it with a link to my current Twitter tweets. Are you confused? Let me explain.
Twitter is a social networking platform that is like a mini-website. Instead of holding tons of information, all you do is update your Twitter account with what you’re doing at any given moment. So, for example, right now my Twitter page would say, “Attempting to explain Twitter. Not really succeeding.” The updates on your Twitter page are called tweets, which sounds silly but who am I to rename them? They can be updated through the web or through your cell phone, so you can literally let everyone know exactly what you’re doing right now. Or now. Or now.
So if my daily posts aren’t enough for you, check below my favorite photos on the left to see what I’m doing via Twitter. Or you can follow me on Twitter by clicking here. Don’t laugh at my lack of followers. It’s quality, not quantity, that counts. At least that’s what I tell myself as I cry myself to sleep.
And then my computer came alive and sucked my brain out of my eyeballs. The end.
Yesterday my very pregnant friend, Abbie, went into labor. I spoke to her twice, and the second time was not good. She was in active labor, struggling quite a bit and was still not eligible for pain medication. I stayed pretty calm on the phone (I think), but the minute we got off I started freaking out. For the rest of the day I was a flighty, nervous mess. I would start one task, then have to get up and walk around. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I was more tense then I was when I myself went into labor. Because at least then I had some control. Even a minute amount was worth it. But yesterday I just sat staring at my phone. Willing it to ring with good news.
I knew I shouldn’t call. When I was in labor I turned my cell phone off, as I couldn’t stand the ringing. So I texted her, figuring if she had an epidural (finally) she would get back to me. After five hours, I starting finding things to do to keep my mind off of that hospital room in Manhattan. I took Lu down to the Plaza. We went to the bookstore and picked out some new reading material. We went out to eat. I had a beer. Waiting.
Trent eventually joined us and texted Abbie’s husband to check on things. The response:
“We’re starting to push. I think I may pass out.”
Finally! Some tangible news! Then a few hours later we received the announcement, via text, of course. He’s here!
And last night, as I laid in my bed, I couldn’t help but cry a little bit. Because I know how much their lives are now changed. How when she wakes up this morning, it will be a whole new world. And how when she looks back in a few years, she’ll find it hard to believe that so much time has passed. She’ll hardly remember who she was before. Of course, she will still be Abbie, bad knock-knock jokes and all, but now she is a mother. She has a son. And as I sat in my bed, reading a memoir of another mother who’s story is freakishly similar to my own, I cried. Because I am so lucky to be who I am. So lucky to be a mother. Lucy’s mother. And now someone I love so much will finally understand how I feel and what I could never explain.
http://www.crazybananas.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/Crazy_Banans_Logo_WebsiteBanner.png00Meganhttp://www.crazybananas.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/07/Crazy_Banans_Logo_WebsiteBanner.pngMegan2008-04-23 08:55:472008-04-23 09:10:12Tears of Joy
Next I’ll Be Seen on Celebrity Fit Club with Dustin Diamond
/7 Comments/in Blond, web /by MeganUpdated: Click here to listen to my radio debut, cut down in to sound bytes that make me look like the world’s biggest loser. You’ll hear me complain about my lack of Twitter friends and give horrible parenting advice. Basically an audio version of what this entire blog entails. Happy listening!
Remember earlier today when I posted about Twitter? Did any of you read it? No. Well, fine, screw you. How about my post on Monday about the Bryant Park Project? What? You want more stories about Abbie’s baby? Well, that’s going to have to wait.
Let’s pause for a bit of a backstory:
I started listening to the Bryant Park Project on NPR earlier this month. I now listen to the podcast most days and sit at my desk pretending I’m not in suburban Kansas City, but that I’m in a hi-rise in New York wearing funky necklaces and talking about how great Brooklyn is for kids. The total NYC wannabe comes out and I can’t make it go away. Kind of like that time when I went to a club in KC and told everyone I was from Brooklyn, and when they asked where in Brooklyn, I pretended not to hear them.
Today, while listening to the BPP podcast, I checked my personal email (yes, I’m a bad employee). In my inbox was a note from my bud Lane saying she had joined Twitter and wanted to follow me on the site. I thought to myself, “Hmmmm…maybe I should check my Twitter account.” And then I ate a box of Hot Tamales.
Which should have been the end of the story. But wait! There’s more.
I decided since I had deleted Facebook and MySpace, I could probably stand updating Twitter. I mean, it’s just one site, right? And I don’t have to upload pictures or tell anyone what books I’ve read lately (answer: zero). So I started adding famous bloggers, presidential candidates and random friends. Oh, and also, the BPP.
Little did I know that I would end up being the BPP’s 1000th Twitter follower, leading me to be interviewed for tomorrow’s show and sounding like the king of all dorks on a national radio program. When I told Trent what had happened his response was, “Well, you’re funny on paper, but not so much in person.” Exactly. I sound like a helium-sucking, Gap-wearing, Kansas-raised doofus on the phone. So I can only imagine how fantastic I will sound on the radio.
I’ll post links to the interview when they are up. In the meantime, you can find me hiding in the corner of my office, eating a second box of Hot Tamales and muttering incoherently to myself.
Tweet, tweet
/0 Comments/in Blond, web /by MeganI’ve resisted for so long, but I think I’ve finally given in. After I cancelled my MySpace and Facebook accounts, I decided that updating this website was all the Internet needed from me. I mean, how much do I really need to spew to the world? Does anyone really care? I wouldn’t.
In all of my self-righteouss indignation, I forgot to mention that even though I left those two social networking platforms, I have not quit everything cold turkey. I still have a professional LinkedIn page for work and I still have a Twitter account that I never update. But since I removed my Facebook link, the left sidebar of this page looked a little abandoned, so I decided to replace it with a link to my current Twitter tweets. Are you confused? Let me explain.
Twitter is a social networking platform that is like a mini-website. Instead of holding tons of information, all you do is update your Twitter account with what you’re doing at any given moment. So, for example, right now my Twitter page would say, “Attempting to explain Twitter. Not really succeeding.” The updates on your Twitter page are called tweets, which sounds silly but who am I to rename them? They can be updated through the web or through your cell phone, so you can literally let everyone know exactly what you’re doing right now. Or now. Or now.
So if my daily posts aren’t enough for you, check below my favorite photos on the left to see what I’m doing via Twitter. Or you can follow me on Twitter by clicking here. Don’t laugh at my lack of followers. It’s quality, not quantity, that counts. At least that’s what I tell myself as I cry myself to sleep.
And then my computer came alive and sucked my brain out of my eyeballs. The end.
Tears of Joy
/2 Comments/in Family, Happiness, Lucy /by MeganYesterday my very pregnant friend, Abbie, went into labor. I spoke to her twice, and the second time was not good. She was in active labor, struggling quite a bit and was still not eligible for pain medication. I stayed pretty calm on the phone (I think), but the minute we got off I started freaking out. For the rest of the day I was a flighty, nervous mess. I would start one task, then have to get up and walk around. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I was more tense then I was when I myself went into labor. Because at least then I had some control. Even a minute amount was worth it. But yesterday I just sat staring at my phone. Willing it to ring with good news.
I knew I shouldn’t call. When I was in labor I turned my cell phone off, as I couldn’t stand the ringing. So I texted her, figuring if she had an epidural (finally) she would get back to me. After five hours, I starting finding things to do to keep my mind off of that hospital room in Manhattan. I took Lu down to the Plaza. We went to the bookstore and picked out some new reading material. We went out to eat. I had a beer. Waiting.
Trent eventually joined us and texted Abbie’s husband to check on things. The response:
“We’re starting to push. I think I may pass out.”
Finally! Some tangible news! Then a few hours later we received the announcement, via text, of course. He’s here!
And last night, as I laid in my bed, I couldn’t help but cry a little bit. Because I know how much their lives are now changed. How when she wakes up this morning, it will be a whole new world. And how when she looks back in a few years, she’ll find it hard to believe that so much time has passed. She’ll hardly remember who she was before. Of course, she will still be Abbie, bad knock-knock jokes and all, but now she is a mother. She has a son. And as I sat in my bed, reading a memoir of another mother who’s story is freakishly similar to my own, I cried. Because I am so lucky to be who I am. So lucky to be a mother. Lucy’s mother. And now someone I love so much will finally understand how I feel and what I could never explain.