Loter’s Blissdom 2011 – Part 2
Jockey & Tide sponsored Thursday night festivities at Blissdom and it was seriously a blast. My roomies (Mishelle, Dawn, Leslie, Victoria) and I all got dressed up and headed to “the red carpet” to kick off the night. This was basically just a chance to act silly and be photographed (Malia joined us on the carpet).
photo by Heather Durdil
Mishelle captured a great shot of the red carpet photographers, Casey, Hannah, Elan, and Heather.
We ate from a variety of foods provided to us – my favorite thing was pulled pork sandwiches with a vinegar-based barbecue sauce. What can I say, I’m still a NC girl at heart when it comes to BBQ!
I was also witness to a momentous occasion: Mishelle had her very first Guinness.
We all enjoyed the food and drinks, chatted, and laughed together.
last four photos by Mishelle Lane
After hanging out for a little while, we headed into the nightclub, Fuse, to watch performances by Michelle Branch and Mat Kearney.
What a treat – both musicians put on a fabulous show. I was particularly excited to see Michelle Branch, as I’ve utterly adored her music for so many years.
last two photos by Mishelle Lane
I generally don’t go all “fangirl” and have photos taken/do meet and greets, but I didn’t pass up the opportunity this time.
photo by Jana Warnke
Once the performances were over, there was dancing…
…and then people wandered off here and there throughout the hotel to eat, hang out, and just have a great time, late into the night.
photo by Mishelle Lane
These are memorable portions of the night – the times you spent laughing with various groups of friends, catching up, sharing hugs, smiles, and silly moments.
At some point later on, Mishelle, Jim, Diane, Amy and I ended up in the Garden Conservatory. As you can see, we spent a little time being goofballs.
Mishelle and her camera… she had me model for her throughout the hotel. I didn’t argue… even when she asked me to climb onto a piano. What can I say? I’m easy.
last two photos by Mishelle Lane
And of course, Diane gave me her now traditional, on-camera, one-finger salute.
It’s this kind of silliness that makes time with best friends so fun!
Still to come – Friday, Flashmob!, Girl’s Night In, and Saturday’s Photo Walk.
to be continued…
our regularly scheduled program will return after this brief period of bliss
I got this tiny bell in the HerStory Workshop today, at Blissdom. Isn’t it cute? Thanks to Aliza and Maya. The exercises they offered were thought provoking. And I discovered that the story of my life is entitled, “I haven’t screwed up too bad, yet. But give me time.” You’d buy it, right?
I also want to give giant props to the ladies who paneled the Writer’s Craft Workshop. I *thoroughly* enjoyed myself – what a great discussion. I had the beginnings of what I think is going to be a very good post in my hands when I walked out of that room Thursday evening. Thank you so much, Megan, Arianne, Deb, and Amber.
I’ll be heading back to the Opryland Hotel (can you say “friggin’ gorgeous?”) tomorrow morning and staying until Sunday (Weekly Winners may post late this week, but it will be up by Sunday sometime.) Thank you so much, Monica & Bridget, for letting me share your hotel room.
Gotta go pack a bag now and get a little sleep before I hurry back over there tomorrow to hug on some more beeshes.
I love seeing so many women that I think the world of in one place.
Every time I hear a squee, an angel gets her wings.
A new day, a new gig, a happier me.
Things are looking up; my mood is lightening a little more each day, and the sunshine and warmth that’s been poking around these parts lately has had more than a little to do with that. For a stretch of days last week and the beginning of this week, it has been sunny and in the 70s, and that is RIGHT up my alley. I’ve had the opportunity to prepare garden beds and plant flowers. The physical work, time outside, and thoughts of beautiful gladioli, dahlias, cosmos, and yarrow bursting open some time in the future all swirl together to make my step a bit more sprightly.
When I haven’t been playing in the dirt, John and I have taken Braden here and there to various parks and playgrounds around our area. I have really missed doing that, and so has Braden. It’s not that you can’t do that kind of stuff when it’s cold – that’s what jackets and hats are for, after all – but my kiddo happens to have a serious HATE relationship with his face getting cold.
And I wasn’t too keen on seeing how he’d feel about a ski mask, so yeah.
But for days recently, we’ve been riding down slides and pumping our legs on the swings, and I’ll be damned if that doesn’t make me a gagillion times more giddy than a glass of red wine.
I do not forsake thee, red wine. I just place you aside for a short time. We shall join again, I promise thee.
Monday night, I was able to hang out with some lovely blogging ladies at the UBP IRL in Nashville, snarf some red wine and cheese, and have my husband and kiddo not far away from me. That was pretty freakin’ nice, too.
And I’ve just started a new writing gig, to which I was referred by the always lovely Sarah (Imaginary Binky).
It’s helping me find my “big girl” journalistic voice, which is kind of cool, in a challenging and frustrating way (can you say, “Lotus has to learn how to get a point across without droning on and on and on for eons?). Yeah, you could say I’m not the Queen of Brevity. And then you could say it again, scream it, and finish by stamping it on my forehead.
So I’ve been setting things up and writing my very first articles as Nashville Parenting Examiner. I’ll be writing a lot of locally flavored items, as well as many general parenting pieces. I’m planning on writing about events and activities that will be of interest to people in this area, and also publish a regular spattering of opinion pieces that anyone can get their head into. In addition, I’ll be hosting giveaways there, and giving general information that is helpful for all parents.
On top of all that, I’m planning on spotlighting Parent Bloggers I know and love (could this be you?) that I’ve built relationships with during my time on this website. Groovy, right? I think so. 
I’ll be counting on page views and subscriptions to keep me afloat, so anyone subscribing, visiting, and commenting? Will make my day.
The RSS feed is http://www.examiner.com/RSS-6205-Nashville-Parenting-Examiner
The related Twitter account is nashvilleparent
So, warmth, sun, fun, productivity, accomplishments… laughter, mirth, time with family… I’m seeing good things. It’s feeling pretty good.
Why, I’ve been so inspired by happiness lately that I even shaved my legs for the first time in over a month, trimmed the ole’ 70s bush and frolicked in the sheets with my husband. And while you may think, “UH 1) TMI and 2) So?” it’s a big deal here, considering that the last time that happened we conceived a baby. Yeah. Read the archives a little and do the math. You’ll see that it’s been an awfully evil long time.
Psychologically crippling fears resist logic and desire and can put you in places you don’t want to be for even a second. And then they keep you there for indefinite amounts of time. You even start feeling that the pain that’s being caused you and your most beloved is all your fault; you should just wake up, break out, get better, damnit.
It just can’t be forced. Something’s gotta give, one way or another.
It’s giving. Finally, it is caving in and crumbling away. Bit by bit.
And as it falls off of my shoulders, I’m feeling that shine again, the one that comes from inside. Not the same shine as before, from the same girl as before, but that’s okay.
Every day of this adult life, I’m learning. I’m always in process; this is a journey. The waiting for the completion of who I am and where I’m going is pointless. I am ever changing. It is time I accept that and who I am right now, ready to welcome the next change, whatever the moments that pass may hold.
Just be, right?
I’m workin’ on it.
The one where I make you look at my ass. And Elvis.
Have you seen a ton
of Blissdom Conf posts this week?
Here’s another one.
Thought I could not go.
Husband gone and no childcare.
No conference pass!
Thursday? Felt sorry
for myself. A bit jealous.
But then realized…
Your happy is what
you make it. So, Friday I
hopped on over there.
In the parking lot
saw my first three hot ladies.
FLINGER LICKED ME. SCORE!
From eleven to
one:thirty I ran people
down with B’s stroller.
Entered a sea of
mingling, chatting ladies.
Saw faces I knew.
While I still felt like
sort of a jerk outsider,
my spirits lifted.
That night, was honored -
four ladies came to my home!
For hours we all laughed.
Dawn*, Victoria,**
Sammanthia,***Leslie**** – they came -
brought food, drinks, and mirth.
Photo by Victoria, with Leslie’s Phone, Edited by Me. Heh.
A balm to my soul.
Can’t express how I needed
a night just.like.that.
Wasn’t planning to,
but Saturday morning I
hopped over again!
Photo courtesy of Domestic Extraordinaire
More love ly faces…
snapped a bra and then B and
I crashed a session!
Photo courtesy of A Mommy Story
(Oops! Sorry, Alli!)
We’re total rebels! B now
Blog Branding expert. 
Photo courtesy of Domestic Extraordinaire
Braden blogged along!
Okay, okay, it was a
Spongebob DVD.
(Damn, this is long, huh?
Heh. Sorry about that guys.
But it’s fun for me.)
I had a short, but
lovely (unregistered) time.
Wish I had seen more!
But Sunday morning,
more fun to be had on the
Blissdom Photo Walk!
Lisa, Jill, Roni,
Colleen, Leighann, Mishelle… then
Maggie and Michelle!
Walked Downtown Nashville,
took photos, chatted… enjoyed
the warm, sunny day.
Photo courtesy of Mommy Always Wins
Swooned a bit over
Elvis. I think Braden was
worried about me.
Photo courtesy of Mommy Always Wins
FYI: Some shots
require you to stick your ass
out for all to see. 
Photo courtesy of Mommy Always Wins
Did I have “total
conference experience?”
Hell no, I did not.
What I had instead,
was the best I could each day.
And? That was darn good.
*BEWBS
**”Snort that, bitchez.”
***The “i” is silent!
****She drinks when she cusses, ya’ll.
If you can’t have it all, take a little.
My fingers are cold.
Upstairs my child is sleeping.
I’m down here alone.
Thermostat set low
in the hopes that next power
bill will be lower.
My toes are so cold.
There’s work to do; I’m too tired -
Emotionally.
A short drive from here
women are laughing, playing.
Warm, happy, together.
Here, it is quiet.
I sit still on the couch and
ignore my numb toes.
Perhaps, in the morn
I’ll join them very briefly.
Just a quick warm up.
Nashville For Dummies
Who Also Happen To Be Lovestruck, Underage, and Extremely Gullible
So, Lotus clearly hates you and wants you to be miserable, and I know this because she asked me* to guest post for her. I only agreed because I actually have some valuable information to share with you, her devoted readers. You see, I remembered that there is some blog get-together thingy going on in Nashville in February, and I realized that many of you dear Sarcastic Mom readers will probably be going to that, if for no other reason than to get a view of The Rack close up. Something you don’t know is that I am The World’s Leading Authority on visiting Nashville.
Because I did.
Once.
So naturally, I am more than obliged to provide you all my expert advice on navigating through Lotus’ hometown and getting yourself good and married in 17 easy steps. Prepare to be dazzled.
Fall head over heels in love with your bald, fat, 9 years older than you restaurant manager before you even come close to your twenties.
Let him take wild advantage of you, your car, your ability to both drive legally and go more than 17.39 seconds without snorting anything up your nose.
Hunt him down over the course of 18 months after he takes off from Denver to Nashville with little more than a “So long and thanks for all the fish” mumbled in your general direction one day.
Drive 23 hours straight through the pouring rain to spend two long, glorious weeks winning him back. In Nashville. That’s the key to this whole thing working.
Get to his apartment after getting totally turned around trying to go straight through on the 65 only to end up on some horrible, middle of the night, lost and alone goosechase that lands you on the 40, which is weird only because the 65 and the 40 don’t exactly hit each other even remotely closely to where you wanted to be in the first place.
After finally arriving, have the most awkward make up sex the world has ever known, or ever will know, and watch as he over the span of four hours goes from professing his undying love and suggesting marriage to forgetting you ever existed in the first place. Make sure this happens within your first 24 hours there, so you’re certain to have 13 more days to be stuck waiting for your next paycheck to be deposited so you can get the hell out of there already.
Get fed up 10 days into your 14 day stay because you’ve been stuck in his apartment with his roommate that you don’t even know, you’ve read all your books, and it’s still raining all around you. Realize you are a rain god.
Get into your car and drive. ANYWHERE. End up dead smack in the middle of downtown Nashville, totally on accident. Park and walk. ANYWHERE. Check out Vanderbilt. Follow the river for a ways and end up in some back alley bar with a fabulous live band and a fabulous random guy more than willing to buy you drinks all night.
Get said guy’s number.
Call said guy in front of dipshit ex-boss.
Get taken out by jealous ex-boss to a company function, get introduced as “the bff” and later that night get asked to move to Nashville with him. WITH him.
Drive 23 hours back to Denver, straight, and start packing your life up. If you survive the Kansas stretch.
Get a call at work two weeks later from the man you’re planning to spend the rest of your life with saying he’s just met the woman he plans to spend the rest of his life with.
Die.
Get the hot guy at work shit-faced drunk and nail him in your car to make it all go away.
Marry hot guy from work.
Thank god for small favours. And Jack Daniels.
*Me would be Mr Lady, which is of absolutely no relevance whatsoever to the post.
__________________________________________________________________________________________
Mr. Lady is an amazing writer, a hell of a strong woman, and a damn sexy broad. She authors Whiskey In My Sippy Cup. Not being subscribed to her website is like waking up in the morning and finding out someone has removed both of your lungs. (Have you ever woken up dead? Don’t start tomorrow… visit her today.)
Besides. There’s a half-naked photo of her on her sidebar, for crying out loud! Go.Now.
PS: She asked me not to blurb her because it makes her uncomfortable, but I like it when hot chicks squirm.
Front Row Seat To My Idiocy?
Because if you’re a woman, and you’re just planning on hanging around the house, but would rather do something fun… come to Nashville and watch me make a total ass of myself, while many actually talented and intelligent women talk about blogging and hang-out together!
Are you going to be there, ready to point and laugh, take embarrassing pictures, and tell the world what an idiot I am in real life?
What, you’re not coming? Is it because I smell?
I promise to take a shower that day.
If you’re still not going… tell me why! And tell me what mean things you would say to me if we did get to meet.
Paradise Below Us
Ahhh. Renting a house. I suppose that some people are able to have a good experience renting a house. Unfortunately, The Carrolls are not those people. Let me tell you our lovely story.
May 2006: Move from Austin, TX (*sniff*) to Nashville, TN. Move into apartment (gag) while trying to sell house in Austin (torture).
I really, really tried to keep a positive view of things.
After all, I was glowing with the aura of happy pregnant lady!
It didn’t work.
May 2006 – May 2007: Miserable living in apartment. Why?
*Brown Recluse Spider infestation.
*Loud “Horse-Laugh Harry” upstairs. I honestly think he is the illegitimate child of Mr. Ed. Really.
*Drug Dealers outside our window. Thank you, but no, our recovering drug-addict friend would NOT like to buy some pot from you, asshat.
*Stupid lady smoking a cigarette practically in my VERY PREGNANT face at the pool, who obviously had a death wish, but got lucky and somehow survived with her life. I am not holding a grudge, she just really deserves to have her Marlboros shoved into her other bodily orifices. While they are lit.
*Sh*tty Property Management Office that likes to lose your packages. “Ohh, really? That was your package? So sorry. We thought the box looked like it would be happy WITH SOMEONE ELSE.”
Etc.
May 2007: Not ready to buy another house yet, but eager to leave apartment living, we rent a house.
Summer 2007: Among (many) other crappy things, we discover that there is a problem cooling the house. The AC Unit runs all day long just to try to maintain a 78Degree temp setting. It fails. It is usually at least 85 in the house.
We nearly die.
Property Management fixes some of the faulty duct work (wasn’t even ATTACHED TO THE VENT under the house!!!), but refuses to do the entire job. We are left with leaky duct work.
Bills arrive for AC. We die again.
Current Day: We have just received a gas (heating) bill. This is separate from the electric bill. Almost $250.
For one month.
Our heads simultaneously exploded.
For that amount? My ass better have been leaving all the doors and windows open, cranking the heat up to about 85 and walking around here NAKED, sipping rum-filled drinks from my SWANKY COCONUT CUP and getting my feet rubbed by the Cabana Boy by the INDOOR, HEATED POOL that we had installed, while lovely Hawaiian tunes play in the background. AND I’d be needing to have had perfectly moisturized hair and skin and a FREAKING TAN.
Oh. No. Wait. Is that what was happening? HELL NO. I was all up in this mother wearing my ugly sweatshirts and socks, scratching my dried out, pasty-white, itchy skin, wondering why the stupid heater has to run so much just to maintain a temperature of 68.
DUR. It’s because our CRAPPY Property Managers and CRAPPY House Owner refuse to fix the duct work properly! They literally told us this on Friday. “Hi. This is your CRAPPY Property Manager. I am a useless bag of ****, have a nice day!”
They refuse to fix it. They don’t care about our exorbitant Heating/Cooling bills.
I think, in short, this is what they said to us:
Except they aren’t cute.
John walked outside the other night and saw steam rising out of the door to our crawl space.
STEAM IS RISING OUT FROM THE CRAWL SPACE.
*slaps self in forehead*
Of course! The Tropical Party is under our house, not inside it!
I need to pack up my hula skirt and my coconuts and squeeze under there. Do you think the Cabana Boy is waiting to give me a foot rub?
Until then? I’m off to browse real estate in Nashville. Guess who’s moving in May?
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