Friday Funny - Anne Flournoy

I happily spent the better part of my late night internet hours yesterday, clicking and viewing episode after addicting episode of a new to me YouTube-based webcom, The Louise Log.  I loved this clever, sophisticated, offbeat video series so much, that I knew right away I had to tell you about it.


The Louise Log is a comedy web series of short video made up whispered confessions of a New York City wife and mother hell-bent on getting it right in spite of her high maintenance husband, her addiction to caffeine and her over-active inner voice. Sundance veteran director, Anne Flournoy, is the creator  of  The Louise Log, where the subtle heroine, Louise, whispers her thoughts aloud as she encounters life.
 
You love this already, don't you?

What draws me and binds me to a humorist or a character, is when I find myself able to relate. I very much relate to the heroine in this series, "Louise". I do all the fumbling self doubt and second guessing of myself, as she does. My internal dialogue is much like hers--and to hear it voiced aloud, I laugh in recognition. And relief.

Seeing myself in Louise provides a welcoming chance to appreciate and feel alright about my own thoughts as I try to figure out life.

I fell in love with Louise with Season 1, Episode 1, of The Louise Log, where you meet her for the 1st time. She is so wonderfully real.

This one is my favorite. Season 1, Episode 2 :"How To Shop at A Farmer's Market" ENJOY!! [1 min 43 sec]

Bring The Funny? She Can...

Lori Dyan

It's Get To Know Thursdays: where I'll be showcasing some fantastic, funny, humor bloggers that I've been secretly, and guiltily, keeping to myself.

As I promised during blogoversary week, I'm going to be mature this New Blogging Year, and introduce you to these fantastic bloggers. Because it's the right thing to do. The world needs more humor.
 
Lori Dyan  is the feature funny lady today, on Bring the Funny? She Can Thursdays. She is a blogger you Must Get To Know.


If I were to link up every post of Lori's that has made me actually laugh out loud, not just the acronym LOL....this post would go down as one of the longest I've ever put up.

Lori is that kind of funny. Laugh Out Loud kind of funny.

The giggly, guilty pleasure, "Oh...She IS waaaay bad" funny.

You can start here --where you will have to click and see the woman she calls Miss BJ--who also happens to be her lookalike.

Lori makes me feel like I'm at a 7th grade slumber party, all over again, where the girl who knows everything we're not supposed to know about, has me in a corner telling it all to me...while I take it in, wild eyed and gaping mouthed. Just.like.that.

See if you don't agree, with this post here.  Nothing like a little yeast imbalance talk.

She is hilarious on her blog, and to follow @RestlessLori on twitter?

::Just mistook new naturopath's rock garden for a parking spot. #firstimpressionfail 6 hours ago::

Very Good Times. 

Stop over and meet Lori. I can't tell you enough what a very funny woman she is.

 

The Return of Stinky McSmelly Pits

by Lori Dyan

I recycle. I compost. I use SLS-free shampoo and I even buy organic if it’s on sale. But I’ve recently learned that my loyalty to all things environmental has limits, and those limits begin and end with my armpits.


I’d heard the scary statistics linking the aluminium content of antiperspirants and breast cancer, so I decided to try out a more natural alternative. The lady at my local health food store recommended a crystal deodorant. I was skeptical that a chunk of salt could keep rank odours away, but decided to give it a try.


The following morning I applied it vigorously under each arm. By lunch I felt wet and sticky (and not in a good way) so I re-applied. By dinner I reeked..[ READ MORE HERE ]

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COMMENTS CLOSED

This Is Me - Baby E Post

Me and my brothers

Monday morning. And a Daylight Savings Time Monday Morning. I hope this little visit with Baby E today makes you smile, and gets your day to a sweeter start. Just like Baby E does for me.

That's a big reason we decided to do Baby E posts on  Monday mornings. Mondays are pretty tough, and we wanted to make them just a bit easier for you---

Here's hoping this Baby E post does just that. xo
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Hi. It's me today. Baby E. I am tired. It is Monday morning, but I am tired.

We stayed up late to see this cool movie last night, Contact. My mom knew the parts to cover my ears with.

I loved the travel in space wormholes part. That was so cool. I wish it was me in the movie.

We went to a school carnival fair on Friday. I won a long yellow snake. But not a real one.

My brother's friend won the new Nintendo!!! He brought it over on Saturday and we all played with it.

My last basketball game was on Saturday. I made 4 baskets.  And my dad said I was a superstar.

Soon it will be time for soccer.

Last night, we watched my mom's friend, and her kids, be on America's Funniest Videos. I have lots of ideas for videos I want to send in and win $100,000.00 for. They would be the winners, too. Mostly, scaring people ideas.

This Thursday is the Season Premiere of Wipe-Out. That is mine and my dad's favorite show. My mom always says, "I can't watch that. I don't believe what people do for money."

But, me and my dad love to watch it. Maybe you should make a note: the season premiere is this Thursday night. The commercial said, "more red punching gloves." It's going to be really funny.

When we watch movies about Aliens, I always can recognize the Alien Agent. I know which person in the movie is going to turn out to be the alien.

I saw a commercial for Cash for Gold. All you do is put your gold stuff in an envelope and mail it and money comes back. I told my mom she should send her wedding rings in. She said she wouldn't do that for all the money in the universe. I asked her how much money she would ask for, for me. And she said "There's not enough money in the world, or the history of the world, or the universe, or the multiverse, for you."

I don't get it. I would sell me for a lot of money. She said, "When you're older, you'll know what I mean."

We watch Transformer cartoons together with my mom. She likes them. She said if our dad was a Transformer he'd be the Black and White volkswagen beetle Geek Squad car, and his arms would become keyboards instead of cannons.

My dad said,"HaHa." And then he said, "Laugh, until you can't find a post you wrote, and you need me."

This is a picture of me and my big brothers. They make me laugh.

Bye. It's getting nice out. I can't wait.

Bye.

Oh. Next week, I can't wait to talk about my future. 

Bye.

Don't forget to watch Wipe Out this Thursday.

Sunday Best - Commisery Loves Company

 

Commiseration. Yes, sometimes commiseration can be the best solution.

I have been thinking about the blogs I frequent often, the ones I jump up to check on each day.

What keeps me returning there?

Why do I like them and look forward to their posting?

It’s what I find there: moods that match my own on some days. Other days it’s a place where “they get it.” Pretty often, I don’t want answers to my problems, I just want to be somewhere where it’s OK to be who I am. With no feelings of needing to impress, or pretend to be something I’m really not.

I’ve read that “water seeks its own level” and “ seeks the path of least resistance.” That is what a “blogfriend” does for me.

A blogging friend is easy, they get you, they know what you're like--without you having to be alike.

When we find ourselves needing to vent, talk it out, work it out, feeling short ended on this life gig sometimes (we’re only human, right?) it’s strangely and curiously uplifting to find someone muddling through, too.

There is something about the “safety” you feel at a favorite blog.

You can be comfortable in your reaction and your response, and in what you say in the little square comment box, because you know that there can be a difference in opinion, and you and your girl are still good.


Sometimes, we just want to be understood.

Sometimes, we don’t want a solution.

We just want to nod “yes, yes, yes” to what we read, and let that be all there is to it. And laughing along in recognition of it all lightens the load.

Instantly.

One minute, you can be crying as you look around at the Hoarder's episode your house is becoming...and then, you hit the right blog at the right time, where there's a post on how the blogger sprained her ankle tripping over a mountain of toy trucks...perfect. Just what the Dr. ordered. You're now laughing at the sisterhood of it all, and no longer feeling like the messiest mom in town.

If you're feeling as if you're the only mother around who tears up as you watch your oldest be able to do so many things for himself now, and why can other moms embrace the independence of these teen years so well...and you? You just can't seem to stop pouring his orange juice for him in the morning. You sit in front of the computer, all misty eyed over this fleeing of childhood, and then you find just the right post, where another blogger is able to put words to what you feel in your heart. 

You can’t really describe chemistry, or put a formula as to why you feel drawn to a specific blogger and their site. If we could, we would all write the book and begin blogs and sell them later for thousands.

You can’t really figure out how you find your “tribe,” your group of women that make up your daily life as much as your family and co workers, and physical friends do.

You begin blogging one day, and then little by little, and one by one, you meet people that bring joy to your life, people who make you smile excitedly when you see it’s them on comments, or in an email, or a tweet, or a sweet: “a direct message to you from…” on twitter. People online who make your heart skip a little when you see it's them.

I think we all just want to belong to a part of something larger than what we have only physically around us. We want to be accepted, and part of a larger collective of who we are, what is reflected back to us, of us.  Sharing what is dear to us, tethers and binds us to others. We no longer feel alone, and misunderstood, isolated-- a stranger in a strange land.

There are times in our lives, when--yes, we truly want a fix, a solution, resources, help, ideas…but there are, more often than not, times when we only want to hear, “me, too!”

Times when we want to know that someone misses our presence in their life that day.

We want to know that we matter, and that someone likes us being part of their world.

It’s nice to know that we came to mind, when someone prepared a post. It’s nice to know that we, also, have somewhere to go with feelings we have inside,  news we want to share, a memory we need to give life to. Or when we need someone to listen to us at 1:00 a.m.

Commiseration. Sometimes just the sweet balm we need, and no more.

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This post was originally prepared for the amazing  Erin Margolin, at her original website, The Mother Load.

I still like what it says.

Happy Sunday!

Beautifully Bilingual - Your Child Talking Guest Post

Lori of In Pursuit of Martha Points is one of my favorite funny lady bloggers, and she's one of the best peeps to follow on twitter, @marthapoints.

Lori is also a licensed, certified speech-language pathologist, with over 15 years experience, who has created a resource site, Your Child Talking,  dedicated to providing parents with information on children and language development.

How did Your Child Talking come to be? In Lori's words: 

"I wanted to develop a place where parents could subscribe to blog posts with information about language, speech, linguistic development and communication. I wanted to create a place where people could contact me to ask questions. I wanted to develop a service where I could consult with parents about their own children using easy-to-use web services like YouTube and Skype.
And after thinking about it for a while…here it is..."

Earlier this week, I had the privilege of guest posting at Lori's Speech and Language site, Your Child Talking, with this post on being raised bilingually. Lori follows up my post there, today, with her take on the linguistic and cognitive benefits of raising a child with more than one language.

I am honored to have Lori here today to discuss the blessings of raising children knowing more than one language.
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Beautifully Bilingual--- by Lori, of Your Child Talking

There are many things I want to accomplish in this life. I want to write a book. I want to climb Half Dome. But there’s one more, and I’ve tried and tried and I just can’t get it to work.

I want to speak a second language.

I tried French. I tried Spanish. I tried sign language. And while I’d like to blame my failure to learn Spanish on the distraction created by my incredibly handsome Spanish professor, my blame game breaks down with French. I had a good high school teacher, a good (if somewhat austere) college instructor, and yet I can still only stumble through in asking to buy a ticket somewhere or find a bathroom (or a library).

I know that part of my impairments comes from a resistance to making mistakes, and you just can’t get anywhere with a language if you wait to talk until you know you’re going to get it right.

As a result of this repeated failure, I have an amazing respect for people who are bi-lingual. And that respect climbs for the multi-lingual.

We are hard-wired to use language. But we are hard-wired to learn language when we’re little. Up to around the age of 10 or 12. Then it is at its easiest and most natural. That’s why people who learn their other languages when they’re young escape the accent challenge. The amazing plasticity of a young brain allows it to gobble up motor patterns with ease and their speech sounds as natural as if they spoke only the one language all the time.

Here’s an interesting fact about children who grow up bilingual: they often acquire language more slowly than monolingual children. To the point where in places where there are large immigrant populations and a language other than English is learned at home, that school speech therapists spend a lot of time filtering out children who are referred to them for language problems when they’re truly just trying to acquire more than one language at time. This is the simplest type of delay, not a disability or a disorder. And since we know that the fix for this problem is time, we give it to them. A speech therapist cannot fix what is not broken. But if you think about it, this makes complete sense. The child is learning two sound systems, two vocabularies and two sets of grammatical rules. So since they’re doing twice the work, it is really only fair that it takes them a bit longer.

But here’s the GREAT part: people who were bi-lingual as children often exhibit far greater cognitive flexibility later in life. And by cognitive flexibility I mean the ability to make leaps in problem solving. I mean a rich appreciation of humor. I mean access to a broad array of language subtlety. I mean ability to appreciate multiple sides of problems. They often have better focus and attention. And any person who can speak more than one language has a part of the world open to them that may be closed to others. And lastly, there seems to be a cascade effect where learning two language makes a person that much more able to learn a third. It’s almost as if the act of learning two languages as a child wires in the language-learning ability far more permanently than learning only one does. Isn’t all that fantastic? So if you’ve been thinking about raising your children with a second language, or about bilingual immersion programs that some magnet or charter schools are offering these days for your kids, I urge you to do those things. It may slow the language process down initially, but that’s a small price to pay, and a temporary one at that. And your kidlet gets back the investment in spades.

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I invite you to visit Your Child Talking, read, browse, email me or leave Lori comments.

A resource like Your Child Talking is an amazing, valuable asset for parents who have speech language questions, concerns, or a healthy curiosity about their child and age appropriate language development.

Click here to learn more about one-on-one services for you and your child.