True Confession Tuesday: Books

(Welcome to a break in our regularly scheduled programming. I just realized that this post is due today - because I have forgotten all of my organization skills - so while it does involve a confession of sorts, it doesn't exactly continue the story of how I became Mrs. Hot Guy. That will continue next week. Unless I've forgotten something else. Sorry.)

So one of the other pleasures of writing for the SVMoms Group is that there's a book club. If you're in the book club, you can sign up to read and write about new books. Last month I signed up for a particular book. I didn't sign up for another book, because I thought it would upset me.

Look, I used to read deeply intellectual books for pleasure. I used to read searing stories of pain and loss, of history, of life. Then I started teaching in a neighborhood where there was already a lot of pain and loss. My book choices turned quickly to mysteries and chick lit. Which is where they remain, because if I am reading to relax I don't want to get confused or upset. Sue me.

Of course, I also got the book that I thought would upset me. But I felt compelled to read it, because taking it was like a promise. And so I stuffed "I Am Nujood, Aged 10 and Divorced" into my purse.

I got divorced at 27 - it seems like a lifetime ago now. I had gotten engaged at 21 (after a month), married at 23. . . I know some people who married that young, or even younger, and are still happy. I think it's fantastic that they made such smart decisions at such young ages. I, however, was not smart at that age. Or in any way mature enough to choose well. I chose poorly and suffered for it. And still it was hard to leave.

I had a career, parents and friends who were more than supportive of my decision,  and still I had moments of doubt. I didn't know anyone who was my age and divorced.

As I read the words of a 10 year old, with little education, who was violated and abused by the sadistic beast of a husband who'd chosen her, I teared up. Our situations were nothing alike, of course, but when she talked about the relief she felt when it was over , I remembered my first day in my first solo apartment. Choosing pictures I loved for the walls, knowing I'd never again have to look at his "art" (collages of magazine cut-outs of naked models - I wonder what his current art history students would think of them?). Knowing that no one was there to complain about what I ate, what I read, what I watched, what I said and what I wore. Feeling relieved.

Divorce has such negative connotations, even in our divorce-friendly country. We feel sorry for people when they get divorced. And I'm sure there are plenty of divorced people who deserve our sympathy. But I think the rest of us deserve a party grander than our weddings.

Jerseygirl Takes Manhattan, Part Deux*

*If you get that reference, you are old enough to read this blog. If you don't get it, pretend I'm French.

Sorry it's been a week. . .what can I say? I suck. And I started exercising, which requires me to not only find time to do that, but also to shower every day. What really sucks is that I've been doing it for like a month and I haven't gotten my pre-kid body back. I mean, my Goddess, I've also CUT DOWN ON MY CHOCOLATE INTAKE. How come I'm not a size 8 yet? Shouldn't 6 years of overindulgence be erased with 6 weeks of (somewhat spotty) discipline?

But back to my exciting trip to NYC.

So, I get in line to go into the event, desperately reading name tags hoping to find a person who might possibly know who I am. Okay, Jill Asher (the founder) and Linsey Krolick (a managing partner) seemed to recognize my name but, um, that's kind of their job. Plus, they were kind of busy. The space was very cool, but the theater where we had the symposium was rather small. Perfect for the group of brands and bloggers talking about um, brands and blogging, but I wouldn't want to see a movie there.

Anyway, inside the theater we all took turns introducing ourselves. I recycled my joke about "Jerseygirl" sounding cute when I lived in Kansas City, people chuckled politely and I don't think I stammered. So I feel pretty good about that. Especially since the last time I had a microphone and a room full of strangers I had also had ten shots of tequila and a karaoke machine.

Many smart people  jumped on their phones and laptops, tweeting about the discussion and following the other mom bloggers there. I took notes, because I graduated from college in 1993 and that's how we rolled back then. Plus, while I've been blogging for a while (Dirty Little Secret originally appeared on Blogger in 2007), I'm pretty new to the whole advertising/reviewing/perks thing. So the symposium was great.

Then there was the cocktail party. I thought we'd just be talking to the brand people, but instead they had little displays and they all gave us stuff AND talked to us. And when I say stuff, I mean I got 2 free tickets to Wicked. Which we saw when I was pregnant with Ironflower and I love, love, love. Also, I got an adorable Jerseygirl luggage tag from Mabel's Labels. Many of the brands had their p.r. firms there to butter up the mommy bloggers, but Julie, one of the founders of Mabel's Labels, was there herself. And she is kind and interesting and their products really are adorable. Just sayin'.

Also, Cinnabon will soon be coming out with cupcakes. And they are GOOOOOOD.

Bitdefender was the sponsor, they have really good identity protection/anti-virus software and are very supportive of mom bloggers.

Honestly, I was overwhelmed by all the great brands there - Panasonic, Lawry's, Lifetime, iGo (portable cell phone rechargers, people!), Mobi-stories (story books that your kids can manipulate) and Cirque du Soleil and probably some others that I've forgotten.

One important thing I did learn: If  you are interested in reviewing products and that kind of stuff, include all of your contact email and professional experience in your "About Me" section. The easier it is for the p.r. people and companies to reach you, the more likely it is that they will.

Also, I really should have taken more of the cupcakes. They offered me more and I turned them down because I was carrying bags of stuff already. I? Am dumb sometimes.

Jerseygirl Takes Manhattan*, Part 1

*Uh, not really.

Yesterday I went to the city BY MYSELF. And as I settled back into my seat on the train, I reflected on prior trips to the city. Because even though I live less than 15 miles from New York, I hardly ever go there anymore. And I realized that I hadn't been to the city alone since I was in college.

That sort of doubled my excitement. I was already excited because the trip to NYC was for a blogger event by the SV Moms group and it was the first time I'd ever actually gone to a blogger event. So I was practically bouncing in my seat on the way into the city.

I say practically because as soon as I left my house I started hating my outfit (skirt, t-shirt, cardigan, chiffon scarf - it sounds okay on the internet, but they were all from the non-designer section of Target and I am not one of those people who wears clothes so well that everything looks designer) and I felt dorky in my socks and sneakers (cute sandals were in my bag). I think it's a testimony to my maturity that I wore the socks and sneakers at all, because on my last solo trip to NYC I wouldn't have been caught dead in Working Girl attire. However, I was planning on doing a lot of walking (because A, I hate the subway and B, who doesn't want to walk through Greenwich Village, Soho and Tribeca on a sunny Sunday?) and I didn't want to wind up hobbling on the way back. Or possibly crawling. My feet do not like heels.

Also, I left the house without the 4 blogger business cards I have left. Fortunately 2 kids who looked like they were auditioning for the meth version of Glee spent the whole train ride singing and making odd musical references, so I was quickly able to get over myself and embrace the  journey.

My walk downtown was great, even if some gay couple sniffed "Jersey!" at me as they walked past. I almost turned around and yelled, "You need more Botox!" but then I realized that pretty much anyone on the street might think I was talking to them. And some of those women looked like they did a lot of kickboxing.

The greatest challenge was changing my shoes across the street from the theater. I couldn't see anywhere to sit (after I got closer I realized that there was a park - with cleanish benches - nearby, but oh well) so I just stood on the corner and did it. A wandering vagrant was fascinated, but I think he only wanted my socks.

So I arrived at the event, clad in cute shoes and a vague sock outline around my ankle. It was at Tribeca Cinema - where they hold the Tribeca film festival - with the moms who write for the New Jersey Moms Blog, the New York City Moms Blog and the Philadelphia Moms Blog. Every last one of them is adorable and friendly and stylish. Oh yeah, and I don't really know any of them. To be more accurate, none of them know me because I've only been writing with them for a month and I haven't left very many comments on very many  of their blogs because we all know I've been a total reading/commenting slacker lately.

To be continued. . . .