This last year and all of the craziness that went with it was hard. It was also wonderful and amazing. But, shit did get crazy hard. Being under constant attack by someone who is hellbent on making your life miserable for absolutely no logical reason will take its toll. I endured it without any response to them. Not one reaction to them about all of the messed up flustercluckery they rained down. It was surprisingly hard. The reason I say surprisingly is that I generally don’t stand up for myself. I will smile and take copious amounts of verbal excrement without responding in kind. Then I will take a deep breath and try to let it all go. Lather, Rinse, Repeat. But, tonight I didn’t do that.
Tonight I had someone pop up out of the blue raging about some nonsense that I had zero to do with. Normally I would apologize, even though I had nothing to do with what happened. Instead, I let them know I had no idea what they were talking about and wished them a good night. They then brought up some drama and began to spin a tale in which I should somehow be indebted to them. Indebted to them for things they didn’t even do. I didn’t smile and nod.
I did take a deep breath. Then I corrected them. I called them on everything, gently but firmly. I wished them well but made it quite clear that I was in no way indebted to them for anything. I sent them away with hugs and hopes for happiness. And then they really lost their damned mind.
Which I could care less about. It felt REALLY good to get it out. It felt REALLY good to say “nope, I do not think that means what you think that means.” It felt REALLY good to not let them bathe me in undue guilt. It felt REALLY good to truly stand up for me and still be all Namaste. In the last year of craziness, I learned a thing.
I don’t say it much, but I frequently feel like I’m failing- as a person, as a friend, as a mom, you name it. I feel like I’m flailing my way through life trying to be the best I can be, but the little voice in my head says it’s just not enough. We all have that voice to some extent. Sometimes I feel like I’m failing as all of them at once.
Before I sink too deep in that feeling where I almost can’t breathe, life throws me a line. Last night, before her bath, eldest was (and someday she’ll find out I documented this and probably smack me, but it was such a beautiful moment that I’ll gladly take the hit) dancing in front of the mirror. Wiggling her booty, checking out all her bits and parts while singing “naked baby, naked baby” like they both did frequently during bath time when they were wee little ones. It wasn’t some inappropriate dance of an older woman. It wasn’t the self conscious dance of a tween. It was just pure childlike joy of being naked, alive, and free. I totally cried. She didn’t see me, but I did. I worry so much about them growing too fast or having their own voices in their heads filled with doubt.
This morning, before school, Lilest brought up the coveted Wax Museum. Like her sister, she has begun to prep more than a year in advance. Her first thought was to be Anne Frank, too. It took a bit for me to explain to her that she couldn’t. That was Eldest’s thing. It still is and it is deeply personal for her. We then began to talk about other options. I asked her what kind of person she wanted to be. She said “a strong woman that stood up and made a difference.” She followed it up with “I don’t want to be some random famous person. Like a model. I don’t understand why someone would want to be known only for walking a straight line and looking pretty. What kind of life is that? Where is the substance?”
I know I tried to sell you this morning, Lilest, but thank you. 🙂 Thank you girls and thank you universe for reminding me that I’m not fucking things up too badly. 🙂 HUGE thank you to Jenny Lawson for reminding me to go forth and be Furiously Happy.
If you would please sit down, shut the Hell up, and listen for one tiny moment, I would appreciate it. I understand you want to hold firm on declaring war on the right for EVERYONE to marry. I understand you are further wadded up over my vajayjay and what I do or do not do with it. Let’s just be honest for a moment… gay marriage has never killed anyone nor has my vajayjay.
What we need to focus on is a much more dangerous killer… stupid people
They are everywhere.
Instead of telling me what I can and can’t put in my hoo hoo and how I can or can’t protect it , instead of telling me and those I love who we all can and can’t marry, let’s start truly saving the world.
You can begin with making a decent IQ required along with passing the drivers test. Stupid drivers kill people EVERY day.
You know who else does? Entitled people. People that feel where they are going is far more important than anyone else.
Combine the two together and it’s lethal.
For example, the 70 year old lady that almost hit me today whipping through a stop sign so she could pull into the last open handicapped spot in the parking lot. I literally had to jump out of the way, yet she had the nerve to get out of her car and scream “next time you get in my way, I’ll hit you!”
These people are in charge of a giant moving weapon. And that is just fine in your eyes.
Yet vajayjays and gay marriage are somehow worth wasting hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of political bullshit on?
I’m gonna set the little old crabby granny who could be in the Death Proof sequel loose in your neighbor hood with her safe vajajay and her straight husband and see if you don’t maybe come to see eye-to-eye with me.
(This post was originally written as a guest post for my friend, Doug’s, blog. It was an honor to be asked to guest post and I encourage you to check out his blog here.)
Last year at this time I started a tradition. One that has made a HUGE difference in my life. It wasn’t easy, but it was very necessary. That tradition was spring cleaning my life.
We throw open the windows of our home, brush away the cobwebs and pack up the winter clothes. It’s our symbolic gesture of greeting the new season. The season of growth and change. Warmer weather, flowers, sunshine. We restart the diets that we started on New Years and failed already. All that good stuff.
But, what about the rest of our life? Cleaning our house, though most of us secretly hate it, is a rather easy thing to do. Going through clothes, revamping diets- those are mere habits at this point in our lives. Last year I decided to go just a bit further with cleaning. It wasn’t so much as a conscious decision really, life just pointed out my need to take a look at the people in my life. Who I was surrounding myself with, how they made me feel. Who they really were. Who I really was. What impact they had on my life.
Most of my life I have fought for the underdog and put everyone else’s needs before mine. It’s how I almost completely lost myself in an abusive marriage. It’s how I’ve run myself down repeatedly year after year. I always rationalized it as something I was SUPPOSED to do. That putting myself first was selfish and horrible.
And then I got cancer. It started out precancerous. It seemed like just a scare. A little blip that sucked but I would move past it quickly and be just fine. When it came back cancerous and things got dark, I retreated inside. Talking about it made it far too real. And, above all, I didn’t want my girls to know. They had enough on their plate at the time. Their dad had gotten his girlfriend pregnant. A baby half-sister was NOT sitting well with them. It may seem like nothing, but to a 5 and 6 year old that were never a priority to him, having to fight with another for the bare minimal attention they already received was a rough concept. The last thing they needed was to fear losing me.
So, this inner retreat meant I somewhat disappeared from various social media outlets as well. It just kind of happened. It was all just a blur. I was trying to keep up with everything going on in my life and then balancing dr. appointments and lab work and treatments. I was a mess, but didn’t really realize it. Then I had a couple of friends get upset at my disappearance. I took a deep breath and explained the situation. One of their responses “Well, if you don’t tell anyone, we don’t have any way of knowing. So, you can’t expect me to be sympathetic to you not being around when I needed you.” Yet, I had no idea they needed me because their way of showing they were having a rough time was to disappear off of social media. The same social media that I had backed away from. See the lovely double standard there?
Other things happened as well and I just had to sit down and take a really painful look at things. I suck at cutting friends loose. I give people chance after chance after chance. I try to cling to all their good qualities, sometimes to the point of completely blinding myself to the faults. But, there comes a time where you have to step back and look at that friendship. Is it strictly one-sided? Does it balance out? Is that person a stream of constant negativity? How does their role in your life make you feel?
After answering all of that comes the even harder part- what do you do about it? Do you emotionally put up a wall and hold them at a distance? Do you break it off completely? Do you sit down and explain the situation and work on the friendship together?
That part fucking sucks. There’s no sugar-coating that.
You know what though? When you are done, I promise you that you will feel so much better.
This year, still fighting recurring cancer, but this last round finally came back only precancerous. So YAAAY for that! My immune system is completely shot though and my doctors SCREAMED at me about my stress level. To have a doctor tell you “Fuck the cancer, it’s the stress that’s going to kill you” is a pretty big wake up call. And, it is just in time for spring cleaning time this year.
Time for decisions to be made and people removed from my life. It’s never a happy thing, but it is so freeing. A really wise person reminded me recently that when you clean out the negative, you leave so much room for more positive. And I need all the positive I can get right now. We all do. Getting rid of my first weed has already made a huge difference. People that dwell in and thrive off of constant negativity will suck you dry. Their need to be one up in the misery department all of the damn time will leave them alone and bitter one day and it’s not a place you want to be dragged to. If nothing is ever good enough for them- that is their fault, not yours. Get off the train now.
Another really wise person I turn to when deep cleaning? Bob Marley.
“Truth is, everybody is going to hurt you; you just gotta find the ones worth suffering for.” -Bob Marley
There are people in my life that I love to death. That I know would be there for me if I picked up the phone and uttered one word- help. And they know I would do the same. Shit, a couple would hear it in my voice and I wouldn’t even need to say it. And guess what? We don’t talk every day, every week, maybe even every month. Life gets busy for all of us. It’s understood and that love and support is still there. We fit each other in when we can.
Then there are the ones that I talk to every day, every week, every month that I’ve said help to and they’ve not bothered to be there. And anyone in my life knows me saying “help” is one of the hardest things for me to do. I took wanting to grow up and be Wonder Woman VERY seriously. I can do it all myself, you know. Yeah, not really but that’s another post. 🙂
In the mean time it is time for me to listen to my man Marley, throw on some Three Little Birds, and clean up the rest of my lawn again.
My doctor called me while I was just done dropping the girls off this morning. I’d already made the decision that I NEED to make time to write down our conversations. Especially the silly ones. This morning’s was fun. As a geek mom, I have the ability to chronicle their lives for them in a way generations before me couldn’t. I can assemble an entire book with photos and captions, a book of them. They can keep this book and pull it out and read it to their children one day. I have made myself a promise that, no matter what, I am going to do this. I have to.
None of us know how long we will be here. I have great plans and decades to spend with my girls in my mind and heart. But, it’s not solely up to me. So, doc informed me that I have the most stubborn white blood cells and cervix she’s ever seen. The fact that I am abnormal is not a shock, but I would be lying if I didn’t say that this was the one time in my life I wish I was called normal. The cells bother her, the cervix we suspected and it doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s back. But, it does mean I get a hot date with a LEEP and sadly she said they just can’t LEEP away my entire cervix. One of these days it’ll buy me dinner first damnit.
I’m at a different place this time around, a different mind set. While I’ve always had the “let’s do this! Let’s fight back!” attitude, I was getting weary. Balancing everything was a trick before, now it’s flat-out draining. This past summer when I made the decision to go back to work full time, rather than freelance, I picked a place that was very unlike me. Yet, it fit perfectly. It’s a seasonal company. Meaning, I get laid off over the next few weeks. A lay of with pay enough to get me through it and time to take a step back and revamp. A much needed breather. A chance for a re-birth.
And I plan on taking advantage of every moment of it. I’ve revamped our eating habits and begun training for the Dirty Girl Run. I’ve begun to reorganize our house, though you probably can’t tell looking at it right this moment. The girls and I have settled in to the new schedule so far, but this is just week one of it. Now, it’s back to the things that matter. Refocusing on the dream and making it happen this year- cancer or no cancer.
Another upside of all of this was that it allotted (read: forced) me to take a step back and look at everything and everyone in my life. To boil things down to what is most important. To come to terms with what I may truly mean to some and them to me. To take stock and make an effort to mend some that may have needed mending and deal with whether it was reciprocated or not. You know how you know when someone is a real friend? It could be hours, days, weeks, years since you’ve sat down and really talked, yet a beat is never missed and that love is still there and even if they don’t have time at the moment, you can tell they are happy as Hell to hear from you.
And I’ve learned that if you completely fuck it all up, there is tomorrow.
Every single day we all get a re-do.
P.S. So today’s conversations on the way to school…..
Lilest: “GIVE US MATH PROBLEMS!!” Eldest: “YEAH MOMMY!!! MATH PROBLEMS!” Both: (chanting) “MATH PROBLEMS! MATH PROBLEMS!”
They are such nerds! Now, coming up for math problems for a 6 and 7 year old while driving may sound like a piece of cake. My girls don’t deal with “what’s 3 + 7?” Nope, they want WORD problems. Which means that I have to keep track of my own problem while I’m making it up. Possibly on a lack of coffee. While driving through a town that I swear has the worst drivers ever.
Me: “Okay, Hailey first… if there are 3 houses on the right side and 4 houses on the left side, how many houses are on the block?” Lilest: “Duh, that’s 7. MAKE THEM HARDER!!” Me: “Okie Dokie. If there are 14 houses on this block and 7 are on the right side, how many are on the left?’ Lilest: “SEVEN!” Eldest: “SEVEN! HEY! IT WAS MY TURN YOU BIG DOOFUS!” Me: “NOT OKAY!!!” Eldest: “You gotta take turns cuz I know more stuff than she does, I get harder ones.” Me: “Okay, (insert eldest’s name here) there are 12 houses on the next block, all with 2 windows. How many windows are on the block?” Eldest: “Good one! Let me think!” Lilest: “That’s a multiplication problem.” Eldest: “I KNOW!!”
Eldest got it right. In fact they both got all of theirs right. Lilest’s next one was “If mommy drinks one cup of coffee every hour and I spend 3 hours at Starbucks, how many cups of coffee will I have drank?” And Eldest got the last one with “If we got to AJ Bombers for dinner and they have a big special going where hamburgers cost $1.00 and sweet potato chips are $0.50 how much would it cost all together if we each got one hamburger and one order of sweet potato chips?”
I love that they love to learn. I love that they are a bit competitive in that department. I love that we take the time to actually spend time together in the car on the way to and from, well anywhere together. But, especially to school. We both need that love in the morning.
I’m pretty sure you’ve heard, Amy Winehouse died yesterday at the age of 27. Now, I will be the first to admit that it wasn’t a huge shock. What was though was the level of disrespect that I witnessed surrounding it. It broke my heart and made me sick.
I’m the last person to have anything resembling celebrity worship in me. (Okay, I totally squee’d when I met Wil Wheaton, but common, it’s Wil Wheaton.) I went on a HUGE rant when I woke up the morning after the earthquakes in Haiti that affected the lives of nearly 3 million people and Lady GaGa was the top trending item on Twitter. Why? Because she was exhausted. Eat a sammich! I tell you what though, if she had died (so very much not wishing that upon her or anyone else for that matter), I would have understood why that would be everywhere.
No matter what your opinion of her, you can not deny the talent she had. She was brave and groundbreaking. She had an insanely powerful voice that was belted from a fragile, haggard looking young woman. And she had such soul. Lyrics don’t get written like hers unless you’ve been there. Songs sung from the gut like that have a trail of pain behind them. Pain that is relived every time you sing it. Sing them all back to back and it’s no wonder she had issues. Some called her a tortured soul, others a train wreck. I’d always just wanted to give her a hug and hoped she’d figure it all out.
But, she didn’t. At a mere 27 years old, she has left this world. While the reports are still out, we’re all expecting cause of death is alcohol and/or drug related. It doesn’t mean she deserved it though. It doesn’t mean that it’s okay to say horrible things.
SHE WAS A HUMAN BEING.
I saw someone ask when the news first broke if it was wrong that they secretly kind of hoped the rumors were true. ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY. Others made snide comments about Amy Winehouse’s death and how now we won’t have to be burdened by watching more about what happened in Norway. (Yes, I know they were being snarky.) Really? Do you seriously believe that Amy woke up Saturday morning and said “Fuck the Norwegians, I’m gonna one up them everywhere”?!!? Joke after joke after sick joke. Bitching upon bitching at having to see Amy Winehouse “shit everywhere.”
Everyone that dies is a loss to someone. Who are we to judge that it’s otherwise?
Here’s a thought- turn off your TV, step away from your computer and take a moment to call some one you love and tell them so. Make sure they know you really mean it. No matter if we lead the life of a saint, or that of an addict, none of us are guaranteed a specific amount of time on this earth. Use it well.
I choose to use mine to see the good and worth in people. To spend time reminding the people in my life they are important to me and genuinely so in their own unique way. To try to do my best to be a good person and a decent mother.
I am by no means a saint either. I am highly flawed and a continual work in progress.
Now, most people will read that and think I like random shiny objects. Don’t get me wrong, I do. This is different though. In this scenario, I’m the shiny. Or maybe I just attract people with a weird version of ADD.
In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a pretty social gal. I randomly smile at people all the time and tend to know most of the employees at the places I frequent. It’s just how I am. And people always tend to smile and chat back. That’s how human interaction is supposed to work. It’s a lovely thing.
But, I seem to have this knack for drawing in people that are all excited to get to know me, spend time with me, talk to me. Like I’m a new toy on Christmas morning. And I get all excited right back.
And then…..
*poof*
They move on to the next shiny.
And I’m left sad and pouty.
It’s actually started to affect me. I’m a pretty open book and have a huge squishy heart. Putting it out there was something I continued to do willingly no matter how much things hurt. Now I’m more skittish and guarded. I’ll catch myself doing the excited puppy dance back and stop and take five steps back and a deep breath. I keep bracing for my shiny to wear off and them to *poof.*
Maybe it’s all my fault. Perhaps I haven’t outgrown being that kid at the park that made a bunch of friends playing all day and cried the whole way home when I realized I would probably never see them again.
For this last week and a half or so I have been pretty sick. After finally getting antibiotics for it, I ended up breaking out in hives from head to toe from them. My hives had hives. Soooo not attractive. Soooo not comfortable. I had hit the brick wall of burnt out.
Until last night.
I’m still wiped and still dealing with health issues, but it’s time to pick up the #truthbat again. This time, surprisingly, for the cafe. For everyone that believes in it.
You see, I have a weekly conference call every Tuesday night for the UberDork Cafe. I look forward to them for many reasons. What I learned last night floored me. Saddened me. When the shock of it all wore off, it downright pissed me off.
I’ve always proudly embraced the titles geek, nerd, dork. One of the many amazing lessons that I have learned on this incredible journey of UberDork Cafe is that us gnorks still tend to hide who we are. Stay in our lil corners of the online world and don’t tend to venture beyond that. Part of the whole goal of the cafe has been to give us a place to go to. To branch out from those corners. To give our future gnorks a place to go to meet others and to actually be able to comfortably be themselves in a place within the community, the real life community. To teach them and us that we don’t need to hide who we are. There is no shame in being geeks, nerds, dorks.
Last night I realized I might be wrong.
It might not be a fluke that there is nothing really like the UberDork Cafe out there. The fact that we tend to hide may not really be our fault. It seems others are more comfortable when we are contained to online. We may come out if we must, but we shall not refer to ourselves as dorks, or geeks or nerds. It makes others uncomfortable it seems.
Last night I was informed that major corporate sponsors of the first auction completely backed out. Why? Well, during initial contact the full name UberDork Cafe was used. From that point on it was shortened to UDC or “the cafe.” Then they got the press kit yesterday. These major corporations then stated that I would need to change the name of the cafe for them to follow through with sponsoring. Yup. They don’t like “dork.” And yeah, don’t try to replace it with nerd or geek either. Those simply won’t do as well. One of these major corporations makes a great deal of money off of us gnorks as well.
My response? (Ok, well the edited version, I won’t lie, there was A LOT of cussing on my behalf initially.)
Dear Giant Corporate People,
Shame on you. Shame on you for so very many reasons. For thinking you could just buy a name. For thinking you have that sort of power over people still. For thinking that us dorks, us nerds, us geeks are that weak that we would hide who we are, change who we are to suit your comfort. For being more than willing to take our money as long as we remain safely tucked away from view and deny who we are. For thinking that you somehow own us. For thinking that in this day and age discrimination is ok, as long as it has a price tag on it. For thinking that I am the type of person that is going to just roll over, change my entire character and teach my children that it is acceptable to allow a company, or even a person, to force you to change your name, your character, or who you are for them.
Allow me to enlighten you. Dork, nerd, geek… in your feeble minds may be words that show weakness or less than desirable characteristics. I hate to break this to you, but the term “corporate” invokes far worse feelings amongst a vastly wider population of people. People that span all age levels, races, income brackets, you name it. Do you know why that is? Because of things like this. Because you still live under the antiquated notion that bigger is always better. That money will buy you anything, anyone. I hate to break it to you, but it really doesn’t. In fact, it won’t even buy you one lil ole dork.
I’m not for sale. My children’s dream is not for sale. My friends, my family, the people that support this dream, that support the UberDork Cafe are not for sale.
And we certainly aren’t going anywhere. If anything, you’ve just made us a bit louder. A bit more present.
Thanks so much for reinforcing the need for the UberDork Cafe. Your shameful behavior has made my mission that much stronger.
Have a wonderful day!
Sincerely, Natali Proudly known as UberDork Girlie
It’s been almost a year now since I have written my “Yup, I’ve Got Boobies” post. To date it is the scariest, most emotional post I’ve ever written. Yes, even more so than the one outlining me standing there with a knife in my hand staring a stalker through my patio door. Breast cancer is far scarier than any stalker.
As soon as that post went up, my awesome tribe of geek girls responded with an outpouring of love and support that went beyond just RT’s. That’s how we roll. One laughs, we all laugh. One cries, we cry too- then whip out whatever we can to make that turn to laughter. One makes a stand, we stand behind her.
We are strong. We are geek. We have boobies. We use our powers for good.
And I am so proud to announce that we have banded together to create a project for the cause. Coming your way soon…
The #BoobieWed Geek Girls Edition Calendar
There are more than 250,000 women living in this country that were diagnosed with breast cancer under that age of 40. That does not account for the thousands that did not detect it early enough and lost their battles with breast cancer as a result.
The strongest weapon in beating breast cancer is early detection. That is the fuel behind this project- driving home the importance of it and reminding women (and yes men) to check their breasts regularly and remind those in their life to do so as well.
This next post was going to be all about my lil dream. The giant, quirky chunk of me called UberDork Café.
But, that is going to have to wait until the next post. By the end of this, you’ll understand why.
This one is about what I learned today. (Well, Friday which is when this is being written. Ok, being started. Jinkies I’m behind!)
A big chunk of the joy that is UberDork Café has been a dream of mine for quite some time. A dream that I have shared with very few people. There are a couple of reasons for this. What it all boils down to though is this- although I’m very much a “this is me and I’m pretty darn proud of me” kind of gal, this is SO important to me, I have been scared. Scared to share it. Scared to hear what others have to say. Scared to have to actually be the one in the front of the project, rather than hiding in the background. Scared to take that leap of faith- in myself. I walk into walls, so leapin, yeah could have disastrous results.
But I did. Arg. Alright #truthbat. I had only taken the running start toward the leap. You know what though, the more people I told, the faster I ran. The more of a reality I made it by setting up the Twitter and Facebook accounts for it, the faster I ran.
Then last week @NakedHobo (who really has been a huge support to me and UberDork Café) told me about kickstarter.com. I spent Memorial Day combing through the site. Mesmerized by all the great projects on there. Kickstarter is a platform for people to use to raise funds to kickstart their projects. Books, artwork, band’s first CD’s, independent films, a bicycle operated butter churner, a mobile gluten-free bakery, all sorts of ridonkilously kick ass stuff. All sorts of people dreaming big, audacious dreams right along with me. All sorts of people seeking to make changes in the world in their own small way. It’s so beautiful.
The gist of Kickstarter is this- you submit your project idea to them (after making sure it fits their guidelines). Once they approve/accept it, you pick a goal amount (i.e. $5,000) and a time frame (i.e. 60 days). You then set your project profile up and work it. It’s up to YOU to get the word out and get people to visit and back (i.e. pledge/donate/show you some monetary love) it.
Here’s the twitst- they get fun stuffs, set up by you, as a reward for baking your project. So maybe, just maybe if someone were to choose to back UberDork Café at the $10.00 level, should I be accepted per my proposal to them, you’d get a pocket protector with the UberDork Café logo on it. Just maybe. Now, if you make your goal amount by the goal date- you keep it. If you raise more, yuppers you keep that too. But, if you don’t – you don’t get anything. That’s right. But, the backers don’t get charged either then so they are not out any money. Which means YOU have to put in the effort to reach your goal
So, Memorial Day evening, I hunkered down, crossed my toes and hit “submit” with my project information. Then I took a ginormously deep breath and waited. Wednesday night I got a response. Again…deeeeep breath. I clicked on my message and read it.
I read a giant “yeah, thanks but no so much.” I was crushed. Then, as I read it for the 123rd time, I was pissed at their reasoning. There were many projects up that fit the reason for “might not be a good fit” they had given me. I moped. I stewed. I freaked. I pouted. I cried.
I then refused to take no for an answer.
Around half past midnight, I sent my retort. I swallowed hard and fought the urge to come at them with both guns blazing. After all, this was my dream, my child in some ways and I get full on mama bear over my kids. Instead though, I chose to reclarify my project addressing their points of concern. And I stuck to my case. I boiled it down to its essence even more. I told them, I know this seems quirky, I know this is a big, audacious dream, but I believe in it. I believe in me.
Holy shit, lemme say that one more time- I believe in me.
While I waited to uncross my toes again, I revisited an old friend of sorts. A man that changed my life in a lot of ways. A man by the name of Kevin Carroll. If you know me really well, you know who Kevin is because I share him and his message with those that I love. Because I believe in them. If you’ve met me, you’ve seen the dream band I wear to remind myself of his message. A message so amazing that you have to hear from him. I cannot do it justice here. I simply can’t. But, here’s a lil bit of it to get you started and PLEASE, if you want to hear more, know more, get a dream band to remind yourself of your red rubber ball (Kevin sent me a bunch of them) let me know.
And Friday around 12:30, I heard back.
“Congratulations! Welcome to Kickstarter!!”
HELLS YEAH!!!
Turns out they believe in my red rubber ball too.
So, the lesson I learned is to believe in my self, my big, audacious dream, my red rubber ball that is UberDork Café.
And my dorky ass has definitely leaped.
Stay tuned for my next blog, my kickstarter project page and all that is UberDork Café. Because, I believe in me, in it and in all us crazy big, audacious dream dreamers out there.
