St. Baldrick's

St. Baldrick’s Campaign Recap!

Three months of baldness! Wow! That was fun!

I’m sure I’ll write more about this at a later date, but I love being bald. It’s such a simple thing for me to do and do good at the same time. And also, I just like being bald for its own sake. It’s fun to challenge people’s ideas of what a lady ought to look like, it’s fun to try a different hairdo (although after three years of fundraising for St. Baldrick’s, it’s not really “new” to me anymore), and heck, I just think it’s pretty. I love bald ladies (and dudes, for what it’s worth!)

Anyway, aside from the superficial details, it’s always awesome to raise money for St. Baldrick’s! It’s a cause I believe in, a mission that I identify with, and a foundation that I feel I can trust. Unfortunately, I feel that I kinda fell down in my fundraising this year. I raised $290 this year. Well, hey- that’s $290 St. Baldrick’s didn’t have before! But my goal was $1000, and I’ve done much better in prior years. I’m trying not to be too hard on myself- charity fundraising is not a contest, right?- but I wanted to do so much better.

After a slight bit of browbeating (I should have done more to shake the pennies from pockets!), some realizations (fundraising without being on Facebook is a lot more difficult, y’all. And yes, I’m the only person on the planet who prefers not to have a Facebook account, apparently) and some thinking, I’ve come up with a solution that works for me: through the end of the year, I’ll donate from my own personal earnings until I reach my goal! Hooray! I’ve committed to raising $1000 for St. Baldrick’s this year, and damn it, I’m going to do it! But what I won’t being doing is asking for donations any longer- that ended with the traditional fundraising period. So no worries- my Twitter and this blog will be back to silliness and rambling starting right now. :)

As a side effect of this year’s fundraising and this great article from Jill Warren Lucas at Philanthropy Journal, I got to meet St. Baldrick’s CEO, Kathleen Ruddy. She is such an open, friendly person and it was really delightful to meet her. She even donated to my campaign! What a sweetheart!

Thanks again to all the friends (and kind strangers!) who donated to my campaign! By the end of this year, I will hit my goal, I’m certain of it. As always, it’s a pleasure and a privilege to fundraise for a group that does so much good. With our help and the money to fund research, I’m also certain that one day we will find a cure for all childhood cancers.

Thanks, y’all!

Uncategorized

All We Can Do

I was all set to post a new, funny thing for my St. Baldrick’s campaign on my shiny new computer (my poor, sweet five year old MacBook’s monitor finally gave up the ghost a few weeks back.) I’ve been balancing things on my head, for goodness sake! But it doesn’t seem right, not right now.

The mother of one of my good, long time friends has cancer. I’ve known this for a while now. Every time I talk to my friend, I hope for good news. But unfortunately, unfairly, the news hasn’t gotten better. It’s even worse today. I’m very worried for my friend and her family. I don’t know what to say, except “I’m so sorry,” which feels so inadequate. Any offer of help I make feels like it pales in comparison to what they need, which is for this nightmare to go away.

I don’t feel very funny right now.

But I do feel angry. Why does this seem to happen more and more frequently these days? It feels like every time I turn around, someone I know or love is sick, and so many times, it seems like it’s cancer. It’s mind boggling, and frustrating, and so frightening. I feel like the odds are against us, that it’s only a matter of time before it’s another one of my friends, or my family, or me. What can we do, besides wait and worry?

No matter the amount of fundraising and researching and hoping or praying we do, it doesn’t seem like it’s enough sometimes. But it’s all we can do. If you hope, or pray, or think good thoughts, I ask you to do that tonight for my friend’s mother, a great mom, wife, sister, and friend. Think good thoughts for her and all the other folks hoping for a cure today. It’s all we can do, and one day, hopefully, it will be enough.

Help A Brother/Sister Out St. Baldrick's

Vulnerable

As I come around to the end of my St. Baldrick’s fundraising for this year, I thought I’d make a few videos. This is the first one. Thanks, y’all!

This isn’t the video that I intended to show, or what I intended to say- but it’s what I needed to say. I hate getting emotional in public. I’d much rather try to be silly or funny. But it’s okay to be vulnerable sometimes. And it’s hard for me not to feel emotional about this subject.

Cancer looms so large in our lives and seems so random sometimes. It’s difficult for me not to feel frightened and angry and vulnerable. The “What if it were me? Oh God, what if it were my kid?” hypotheticals are terrifying. That’s one big reason I donate my time and money to St. Baldrick’s- instead of just sitting here feeling upset, I can get out there and try to help in a small way. And when lots of us work together in small ways, it becomes a big thing.

Here’s some ways you can help:

Spread the word about St. Baldrick’s Foundation! Here’s a link to their website:
St. Baldrick’s Foundation

Become a shavee or volunteer yourself! Here’s how:
Get involved!

Donate to my St. Baldrick’s fundraising campaign:
My St. Baldrick’s fundraising page

Finally, I’d like to give a shout out to the two women I mentioned in my video, Sarah from Go Vegan and Mandi from Making Nice in the Midwest as they start on their cancer treatment and recovery plans. I have enjoyed learning about their lives and learning from them through the magic of the internet (and books! Sarah’s cookbooks are great if you are interested in vegan cuisine) and I wish them all the best.

Help A Brother/Sister Out St. Baldrick's

Bald for St. Baldrick’s

Of all the things in life that I’m grateful for, a healthy, happy child is at the top of the list. I think that any adult who loves a child deeply knows the feeling- you would do anything, anytime, anywhere, to protect that little face you love so much.

But sometimes, there is nothing you can do. Sometimes, all you can do is stand by helplessly while your sweet little bird hurts. If you’re lucky, it’s a scraped knee or a broken arm- painful, certainly, but after the initial shock wears off, you know that time, and maybe some stitches or a few weeks in a cast, will heal those wounds.

But sometimes, it’s not that simple. Unfortunately, there are many situations that fall under this terrifying heading, but none are more frightening to me than this- childhood cancer.

I’ve seen so many people I love affected by cancer, directly and indirectly. I’ve seen people I love get cancer. I’ve seen some survive, while others did not. And in each circumstance, all I could do (besides offer love and support) was stand by, helplessly, and watch. It’s hard enough to watch a beloved grandparent die. I cannot begin to imagine how that would feel if it was my child.

This is why I fundraise for St. Baldrick’s Foundation.

I fundraise out of fear, yes, but also because of hope. Hope that I can make a small difference in the fight against cancer. Hope that another child won’t have to suffer through a cancer battle. Hope that another parent won’t have to lose child.

To win the battle against cancer, we need a cure. St. Baldrick’s Foundation provides research grants to doctors and scientists who are looking for that cure for many different types of childhood cancers. St. Baldrick’s raises funds for these grants and honors children with cancer through their shaving events.

This is my third year raising money for St. Baldrick’s. It’s such a small thing for me to do, but the combined impact of so many of us fundraising and supporting these events is massive- St. Baldrick’s raised $33 million last year. Since 2005, they have provided over $103 million in research grants. (They are also transparent with their financials and have a good rating from Charity Navigator.) I feel good about where the money we raise is going. And I’d like to raise even more.

The way fundraising for St. Baldrick’s usually works is that you get your friends to donate money with the promise that you will shave your head in return. You raise money up until the day of the event, then you go shave your head. My friends and family know that I’ll shave my head at this point- that’s not a question.

So this year, I decided to up the ante a little. Instead of growing my hair out until the shaving event, I’m keeping my head shaved UNTIL the event- April 27th, 2013. That’s right, I’ll be a baldy for the rest of the winter (as wintry as it gets in Central NC, anyway.)

I’ve noticed that I get lots of attention and comments after I shave my head, and even additional donations from strangers once I tell them why I’m bald. I’m hoping that my bald head will be both a conversation starter with strangers (thanks to my trusty “Ask Me Why I’m Bald” St. Baldrick’s button!) and a reminder to friends to donate if they can. It’s also a virtual fist bump to all those folks with cancer who don’t get to choose whether or not they’re bald, and a reminder to me every time I look in the mirror of what really important in life, and what we’re fundraising and fighting for.

So when you see my bald head the next few weeks, feel free to ask me about it! I’ll happily tell you how fundraising is going, what St. Baldrick’s is all about, and how you can help, if you would like. I’m looking forward to spreading the word every chance I get (and I promise not to harass you about it if you don’t ask!) Thank you so much for your past and continued support!

If you’re interested in contributing to my fundraising efforts, you can check out my participant page at the link below:

Gabrielle’s St. Baldrick’s fundraising page

If you’d like to help by tweeting a link, that would be fantastic! Here’s a short link to my fundraising page:

http://tinyurl.com/stbgab

Thanks, y’all!

blogging about blogging

Movin’ On Up

Well, I can safely say that I never thought this would happen, but I’ve received my first Charmed and Delighted letter ever. Unfortunately, it’s from the good people who are representing the good people over in the Old World that produce our favorite delicious hazelnut spread.

It would strain the boundaries of credulity for me to assert that I had no idea that the name of my blog (and domain, formerly) contains the name of a popular and delicious hazelnut spread (of which there are currently no fewer than three jars in my pantry.) And, considering my nearly boundless love for this fine foodstuff, I certainly have no desire to infringe upon its chocolatey, trademarked goodness. Therefore, I’ve decided to cheerfully accede to the gentle request of this fine corporation and have moved on from this particular domain.

My new domicile on the internet is here at dorkygirl.net. Same silly ramblings, different silly name. (And all these silly archives have been moved over here as well.)

Thanks for five great years over at nutellaisevil.net and here’s to even more here at my new home on the internet!

blogging about blogging feelings...nothing more than feelings

On Blogging

When I started blogging back in…2005? Oh god, so old… Anyway, back then, most of the blogs that I read (and certainly my own) fell into roughly two categories- general information and personal blogs. General info blogs talked about a topic; personal blogs talked about, well, the person him/herself. People would tell stories about their lives, share triumphs or failures, and occasionally ramble on semi-coherently about a variety of topics (*raises hand*), just like your friends in real life. In fact, that seemingly shared connection to other people’s lives is what drew me first to reading blogs and then to writing a blog. It was like having coffee with your friends- from all over the world.

I’ve kept blogging, sometimes regularly, more often irregularly, for the past seven years now and of course, things have changed. People still blog, and some even manage to make a career of it, surprisingly. Most blogs that I read now are less all over the place and more niche-oriented (e.g. interior design, cooking, photography) and incorporate a mixture of personal and sponsored corporate content. I have no beef with that- in fact, I’m glad folks can get paid for writing in any fashion! That part is pretty great. And most blogs I read are downright pretty to look at, too- web design is much more accessible these days, and people aren’t above paying a designer to decorate their space on the web, which is also great- hey, creative skills are valued and compensated? Sweet! But it does make me feel a little…inadequate when it comes to my own blog.

This space on the web (and it’s predecessor) started as a way for me to get out the thoughts in my head and work through them. A diary, of sorts, as many blogs were (and are, to some extent.) It’s me and my wittle bittle feewings over here, just hashing it out. It’s self-indulgent and slightly narcisstic, this divination through reading my own entrails. (You’re welcome for that delightful imagery.) It works for me, but I know it doesn’t work for everyone, and that’s okay. Right?

I’ve worked through bouts of writer’s block before and will again, I’m sure. I don’t find it difficult to write these days, but I do find it very hard to publish. I have at least a dozen posts sitting aimlessly in my draft folder, patiently waiting to be released. But now, when I hover my finger over the “Publish” button, I hear in my head the voices that I read now, the polished prose of the sponsored blogs and compare myself. I come up well lacking. Why should that matter? This is a personal blog, not a brand platform. I have to remind myself over and over again that I’m not writing this on a deadline or for an audience other than myself- it’s not a work product. I do love writing for other people, but that’s not the focus of this blog. SO what is the focus?

There is none.

It’s a meandering walk through an untended vegetable garden, an ambitious hike that gives way to a dip in a cool river, a marathon I didn’t train to run, but still decided to walk it instead, and the view is lovely. It’s where I set aside striving and get an A+ for just living. It’s the product of a life well-lived (sometimes more than others) and well-loved. And that’s still quite enough to write about.

thanks y'all

30 Strangers by Justin Hackworth

30 Strangers mother daughter portraits by Justin Hackworth

photo by Justin Hackworth

I love this photo by Justin Hackworth, featuring a teenager and her adoptive and birth moms and grandmas. The mom on the left is looking at her daughter with such bare interest and the mom on the right is studying her with such intensity. That’s some fierce love right there.

This photo is part of his “30 Strangers” project, in which Justin photographs 30 groups of strangers in 30 days- all mothers and daughters. Some are groups of two, others are three or four generations. Not every group is happy and carefree, and those of us with challenging relationships can relate to that. I think Justin manages to tell us a piece of each group’s story gently and respectfully through his photographs, and that’s a real talent.

The “30 Strangers” project is a fundraiser for the Center for Women and Children in Crisis, a local (to him) women’s shelter serving victims of domestic violence. Justin donates his time for the sessions, and the participants make a donation to the Center.

You can check out all his “30 Strangers” series portraits over at his blog.

Thanks, Justin, for sharing a bit of these women’s stories with us and for using your talents to help women and their families in the process.

thanks y'all

Thanks, y’all: Small Moments of Delight

It’s difficult to be grateful at 5am when you haven’t been to sleep yet and it’s likely you won’t get to sleep at all. Especially when your husband is lying next to you, snoring peacefully as he has been since his head hit the pillow four hours ago, not too long after he talked you into staying up to watch just one more episode of Monk. It’s hard not to feel a little miffed. Perhaps even stabby.

Until he laughs in his sleep. A pure measure of happiness, from deep in the gentle cradle of sleep. Followed by another freight train snore.

It’s just the thing, the sweetest little moment, a reminder of how generally wonderful he is. He brings me these gifts, these small moments of delight, all the time. He reaches for my hand in his sleep. He makes me tuna salad sandwiches at midnight. He brings me beer in the bathtub.

It’s these things- these thoughtful, dear, small moments in marriage- that keep us present in love, that keep us grateful for our partners, and that keep us from duct taping our beloved’s mouths tightly, totally shut in their sleep.

thanks y'all

Thanks, y’all

Ever since I heard of Patti Digh’s habit of writing a thank you note every morning, I’ve been inspired and challenged to be more direct with my appreciation for people.

(But that doesn’t mean I actually started doing it.)

I’m a compulsive thanker in general. I go out of my way to praise good customer service in restaurants and retail stores. I will call and tweet and Facebook and email to laud the small courtesies of professionals. I fill out every single comment card I’m given. Every one.

But I rarely thank the people who perform those more subtle acts of bravery and kindness and sweetness, the acts that move me in ways both little and big. I want to thank those people, too- actually, I need to thank them, because it’s often those acts (or the memory of them) that gets me through the night sometimes.

So I might I plan to I’ve decided to write a little note of gratitude from time to time. I can’t commit to every day- that’s a mighty undertaking, one that I am a bit in awe of and hope to work up to- but when the spirit moves me, I will sit down and write out my thanks. Thanks to some people I love, some people I admire, and some people I don’t even know personally, but people who have all made my life better, sweeter, and more hopeful in some way. I will share some of them with you in a series called “Thanks, y’all,” so you can see what makes my heart go pitter-patter and Wow! and sometimes BOOM. When you find something that you’re grateful for, I’d love for you to share it with me, too. There is so much about this world that is frustrating or sad, but there’s also so very much to be grateful for.

Other gratitude projects I love:

Chookooloonks’ gratitude.2012
Schmutzie’s Grace in Small Things

feelings...nothing more than feelings

Messy

street light on window ice winter 2012

Sometimes, I get overwhelmed. There is too much going on in the world, in my life, in my friends’ lives, and I can’t fix it. I want to scoop the world up in my arms and give folks hugs, or a good talking to, or maybe both, depending on the person.

It’s really easy for me to think that everything is going to hell in a hand basket. It’s really easy for me to feel guilty that my problems are minute, first-world, insignificant compared to others’ lives. It’s really, really easy for to me to want to turn off my smartphone and internet and crawl under the covers with a big, thick book and not emerge until things are back to normal.

But life is never normal, not really. Life is messy. There may be moments in between the messes where life is clean and composed, but those are mere pauses, and the next thing you know, the kid has spilled Beefaroni all over the floor and the dog with a wheat allergy is slurping it up which means your night is going to be messy, too, and oh God, the cat just peed in the recycling.

No, not my cat. My cat likes to pee straight on the damn floor.

We like to think the clean parts are our normal, but really, it’s the messy ones that are normal, real life, part of being human. We mess things up and then clean them up again. We try to find a way to avoid making that particular mess again, and maybe we succeed. But then we’ll make a new mess. That’s how we learn things.

Here’s to messes, and tidying up, and getting messy all over again.