I write to process.

I write to share.

I write to expel,  investigate,  connect, publicize, stand out, convey, separate, unite, understand, distinguish, identify, comprehend, relate, inspire, exorcise, reveal, persuade, learn, heal, clarify, notice, express–and probably a few other things too.

What about you?  Why do you do what you do?

There is some mad new love going on one row ahead—well one half of the couple is one row ahead the other is five rows forward on the other side and three hours is just too long to go without flirting.  It’s adorable the way he tapped the back of her head and then made googley eyes at her as he walked back to his seat–adorable if it weren’t so disturbing in that holy-shit-I-permanently-broke-my-imagination-by-thinking-about-these-two-mid-50-batty-professor-types-tossing-around-in- the-sheets kind of way.

And it’s not my fault.

My thoughts didn’t go there first.  They were standing in line behind me as we boarded the plane discussing the fact that no she didn’t have a subscription to Playgirl, did he think she did?  (Personally, I think Playgirl is no longer in print and I have no idea where I would have picked up that nugget of information, but you can bet I’m going to Google it as soon as I have wifi).  The minute I heard that sentence come out of her mouth I wanted to call you immediately to tell you about it, but I was standing in line by myself and it would have been really rude to share this funny story while they were still standing right behind me talking about Playgirl in oddly un-hushed tones.  Don’t think I would keep such gold to myself?!

Meanwhile at 35,000 feet somewhere over oh who knows–The South—I am now the friendly dictator of the deserted island I am going to live on with my fellow travelers once we have a safe crash landing.  It will be a tropical island.  I don’t really want to be a dictator per se, I just want them all to listen to what I say and then follow my directions.  I don’t want to be in charge though.

Consider me more your lifestyle liege.

I’m making changes mental notes on each of you as you strut, waddle, scooch and careen like drunken sailors down the aisle, past my seat to the lavatory.  (Why is it a lavatory on the plane?  I remember asking if we could go to “the lav” in elementary school, but by the time we were in middle school I’m pretty sure we were already asking for the “bathroom pass”–must be one of those vessels a-sea/a-air/a-guys make up stupid names for things including their penises for no reason that I can divine things).

Where were we?

Oh right the friendly make-over dictator who wants no responsibilities fantasy.

First I would have everyone pile their luggage together (except mine of course) and I would take inventory.  We’re going to put you in the proper clothes for your color and shape.

Seriously sir, you’d be very handsome if you weren’t sporting such a severe look.  Your jaw line is strong, but you could use a little color up around your face.  Give your leather jacket to the dude next to you who is wearing the black blazer with the grey turtleneck.  He’s far too young for that and despite the fact that a number of 80’s fashions are coming back that turtleneck is bunching up around his cheeks and making him look tubbier than he probably is.

Oh shit!

I can’t believe I forgot to tell you.  Thank god she just stood up.  I caught this flight in Charlotte, NC and we’re headed to Houston, TX.  These facts are only important because THERE IS A WOMAN WEARING SKI PANTS on our flight.  Seriously, swish, swish noise making, bib with the elastic sides snow pants!  I’m afraid none of my “coaching” will help her.

Cute pregnant girl with the awesome pregnant hair just sashayed by.  Adorable.  I’ll help deliver her baby cause you know I’ve had two and watched a lot of ER.  She and the baby can live in my hut with me and she can help me accessorize our fellow castaways.

Preparing to land.  Must turn off all portable electronic devices and restow all items removed during filight (should I tell them Word doesn’t think restow is a word?).

I had the best idea for a blog post as I was lying (or is it laying–I don’t feel like Googling it) in bed last night. It occurred to me to get up and make a note about it, but it was such a perfect idea that I was sure I would remember it.

I didn’t.

I want to say it had something to do with my mom, or motherhood, or being a queen, but I could be totally off. Maybe it had to do with the importance of reading to your children or how the Yankees threw last game so they could win the Series in their new stadium. It might have been a treatise exploring the finer points of a frozen Snicker’s bar or a PSA about not drinking six Diet Cokes during the day if you plan to sleep at night.

Hell if I know.

Most of my profound thoughts really can be conveyed in less than 140 characters–not that I share all of them on Twitter, but it makes me a little hesitant to throw them out there and count them as a post.

Maybe I should start carrying around another Moleskine just for my incredible thoughts and ideas and then I can serve up a bunch at a time for your viewing pleasure. What’s one more Moleskine, right? I mean there’s the one I have for work, the one that has my older random notes and Christmas lists, the one I’m using for current journaling and then another small one that found it’s way in my bag. Shit. I have a Moleskine problem.

I guess that’s better than a mole problem–or a skin problem.

Actually I have a skin problem, but you’re probably not interested in my eczema or the latex gloves I wore at work the other day so I could apply the prescription ointment I have for said eczema so I wouldn’t rip all of the skin off my hands nor get the ointment on my keyboard. No one seemed to notice them until I began to use hand gestures during an emotional conversation with my boss at which point she stopped in her tracks which was actually a good thing because the conversation was getting way too heavy for the both of us and we needed that moment of comic relief–you know like when Olympia Dukakis offers up Shirley McLaine for Sally Fields to hit during the funeral scene in Steel Magnolias. I mean every damn time I watch that movie I’m a sloppy, snotty mess as Sally screams that it was supposed to be her in the casket and then here comes Olympia. Thank goodness straight guys had the innate sense never to watch that movie with me, because the boogers… Though that did seem to work for Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally–well at least until the uncomfortable silence when it was all over.

Hmph. Nope. That wasn’t the idea for my post either.

I see these exotic (and not so exotic) locations stream by on my stat counter every day and I wonder about who you are sitting in front of your computer screen and what brought you to my little corner of the interwebs.

Blogging turns out to be more revealing than I originally thought it would be. Who knows, maybe I just happen to be more of an exhibition*st than I originally thought. I mean I’ve shared moments of pride and moments of…well…moments.

Either way, it’s time for you dear readers to give back.

Peek out from behind your keyboards and say hi. Tell me a bit about yourself. If I know you in real life, leave me a hint.

Who knows. If I find out my readers are all women I might feel free to talk about my b00bs more.

My muse has run away. I hope to be able to write again without him, but I don’t know.

He was actually my personal cabana boy and I relied upon him to bring me fruity adult beverages with little tiny umbrellas. Those drinky-poos and his handsome visage caused the words to flow like coconut-scented tanning oil.

Right now I am just grieving the loss.

I just know the asshole is some place warm not even giving me a second thought.

Serves me right for hiring on looks.

I’ve started so many posts in my head over the past week, yet none of them have made it down my arms and out the tips of my fingers.

I’ve probably had too much time with my own thoughts lately, and with a good portion of them clouded by a fever, I don’t know that I can access those posts that seemed really important when I didn’t have the energy to open up my laptop.

So here I am now just throwing words down like they’re car mats that need to dry in the sun. But it’s feeling germy in here and I need to open up the windows, air things out and hope to find the purpose of this here blog.

Clearly, I’m going with the “just start writing” method.

Appreciate your patience while I wasted your time giving myself a kick in the pants.

I was quite the tomboy. I’m fairly certain my dad wanted boys, which is probably how I ended up being the first girl in my hometown to play little league. But today, here I am one of the brand new editors at Sk-rt!

Now I know you all know about Sk-rt. If you don’t, hop over there immediately for some of the best links on the web.

I’m personally pee-in-my pants excited to be working with the amazing women who founded the site and all of the other new editors (especially her). I’ll be cruising the Interwebs looking for cool new posts and articles to highlight on the site. If you see a story you really like in the up and coming section, let me know and I’ll slap it with an editor’s pick.

As if you didn’t need another reason to go check out the site, Sk-rt is hosting a contest to mark the new changes that have gone up over there this week. Just take a look around and let the
Sk-rt chicks know what you think in the comments for this post and you’ll be entered to win one of a number of fantabulous prizes.

What you still doing here? Go on now. Git your booty over to Sk-rt and tell them Mamma says hey.

Believe it or not there is another Amie (yeah she spells it Aimee, blame our parents). According to her this other guy (Hi RC!) has decided to declare today a day of delurking.

…April, May and thank goodness November!!

I have to say I love the challenge of NaBloPoMo. What I need to admit is that it completely drains me of any worthwhile posts.

I’ve been exhausted this month. Each night, I’ve waited until after 10:30 p.m. to even begin writing. It’s no wonder you’ve had to put up with the schlock I’ve been shoveling out.

So enough, I say. Enough!

I’m a political consultant. That’s what I do in real life.

Today I attended a conference about “innovative advocacy.” A panel of Congressional staffers spoke about the types of contacts that gain their attention. They discussed faxes and emails phone calls and personal meetings. They described the overwhelming amount of information they must process on a daily basis in an attempt to stay on top of the issues they cover. An audience member asked them if they read blogs. Across the board, each one of the staffers said no they didn’t have time. Bloggers, they said, were just rogue folks spewing out whatever their whimsy. They also said they discouraged their bosses from reading blogs.

I was a bit put off.

But then the next panel came on.

This panel was comprised of grassroots practioners who were there to present case studies of some of the more innovative grassroots programs they had seen. Obviously these two panels hadn’t talked. The very first presenter is now involved in internet advocacy BECAUSE of a post he wrote for DailyKos that eventually led to the Congressional Committees Project. Each of the panelists discussed blogs in one manner or another, especially underscoring the value of advertising on blogs and how economical it is.

Now I realize the first panel was talking about the grassroots efforts that got their attention and there is no reason to believe that they are out searching the blogs to see what folks are saying, but they seemed to discount them so thoroughly. But I’ve witnessed the viral nature of blogs. As someone who has worked for an advocacy organization, I’m constantly amazed by how quickly bloggers can get information out and gin up support for issues in a matter of days.

I was mad that bloggers didn’t seem to have the respect of folks who are essentially in charge of making the laws of our land. But I didn’t get too angry because I know something they don’t. And they have no idea how wrong they are to ignore such a source of power.

I am grateful for so many things today–and everyday even if it seems like I forget.

Things great and small.

It is so easy to lose sight of the many blessings we have, and I love the fact that we take at least one day each year to ensure we don’t.

The community of incredible people I’ve come to know through blogging was most unexpected when I started throwing my words to the wind a little more than a year ago. I am tremendously grateful for the friendships both online and in real life it has brought me.

I hope each of you has a wonderful Thanksgiving. Please know you are in my thoughts today.