Nancy W. Kappes, Paralegal

Today Jenny wrote that her close friend Nancy W. Kappes passed away last week.

I met Nancy in Chicago last year, at BlogHer 2009. I was scared and overwhelmed and Nancy made me laugh so hard that I almost pulled a muscle.

She had an impact on me. She made me smile. She laughed at my jokes. She looked me in the eyes and told me I was beautiful. She offered me vodka out of a water bottle.

She made me feel like I belonged in that bathroom.

Like I belonged with those people.

She had the balls to say whatever was on her mind, even though most of it was totally fucked up and made people uncomfortable WHICH IS WHY SHE WAS AMAZING.

She was totally irreverent, completely inappropriate, and unconditionally herself.

Pretty much awesome in every way.

I feel so lucky to have spent a night with her, to have hugged her, to have politely declined heavy duty pharmaceuticals from her.

I'm so sorry for her family and friends. Someone with a personality like hers leaves a huge void.

But I want them to know that she mattered, even to lil' ol' me.

Thank you, Nancy.

Now I'm going to go get drunk and possibly partake in some Nancy W. Kappes style arts and crafts.

I suggest y'all do that too.

*For Nancy.*

Kidney A-Go-Go Preview

So today my mom donates a kidney to my dad, an event we've been calling "Kidney A-Go-Go".

To read all about how this happened, please visit the blog I write with my mom, She Thinks. We have a new post up where I talk about my amazing parents and my mom talks about why she's giving a vital organ to her ex-husband.

Also, I'll be tweeting from the hospital waiting room with updates labeled #divorcedkidneys. I wanted my dad to get me some scrubs so that I could sneak into the operating room and tweet from there, but I don't think it's gonna happen. It's a total shame because I think a picture posted to Twitter of a kidney would be kind of awesome and a huge step forward for social media and journalism in general.

Alas, you'll get tweets like "My mom is totally high on anesthesia so I'm making her give me money #divorcedkidneys", and "My dad thinks having a female's kidney will make him more attractive to the ladies #divorcedkidneys", and "This waiting room is freezing and they don't get MTV and they won't give me Xanax. Fuckers. #divorcedkidneys".

Shit. Now I'm just giving my best material away.

So go read She Thinks and if you want to check in or are just curious, follow along on Twitter.

PS: I asked my parent's permission to tweet about this. They said if it would keep me out of trouble to go ahead. I think that they're underestimating me and my multitasking abilities. I can totally tweet while searching for all of the hot doctors who have gratuitous sex in the on-call room. It happens on Grey's Anatomy all the time, and since I'll have some time on my hands, I'm totally gonna find them.

PPS: My She Thinks post about this is way more heartfelt than this one. And I don't call anyone "fuckers". I know, what's the fun in that? You should still read it, though.

PPPS: Actually, feel free to skip mine, but you NEED to read my mom's. For serious.

PPPPS: I'm writing all of this the night before the surgery. Tomorrow I fully expect to be super emotional and hopefully sedated.

This is Why the Geeks Matter

So I was going to write this whole post about turning 25 last week and how I said I'm in my "quarter-life crisis" and my dad said, "Ally, that's ridiculous. The chances of you living to 100 are slim, so 'quarter-life' really isn't accurate."

(Thanks, Daddy.)

And I was also going to write about how my amazing, beautiful mother will be donating her kidney to my amazing, beautiful father on Monday, September 13th. The short story: he needs a kidney, my mom has a kidney, she's been through every test you can imagine to make sure she can give said kidney, and now it's happening. Little bit more info: they're divorced, which apparently makes this whole thing weird to some people.

Want the long story? I'm totally going to be a bitch and make you wait because my mom and I are publishing it on our site, She Thinks, on the day of the surgery. SO, be sure to check out She Thinks this upcoming Monday to get my thoughts on this whole thing, and my mom's side of the story (which will probably be way more fascinating than mine). I'm also going to be tweeting from the waiting room with the hashtag #divorcedkidneys, so follow along if you're so inclined.

Which brings us to why I'm not writing those posts at the moment.

Something happened on Monday, September 6th, in Boulder County, just west of the city.

It caught on fire.

Like for reals.

So I took that picture from my backyard and then wrote an extremely eloquent message and posted it to Twitter, because that's what us geeks do.

And then something happened. A LOT of us started tweeting.

People from all over Colorado started posting pictures, telling what roads were closed, and where the flames were.

And some dedicated people started listening to the police scanners and tweeting everything that was said.

And the news agencies used us to tell the public what was happening.

Because we were the ones who knew, and who needed to know.

And the community started taking care of each other. Restaurants tweeted that they wanted to offer complimentary meals to those displaced. People started offering up their spare bedrooms and couches to people who couldn't go home, or no longer had a home. Strangers tweeted offers to house pets while displaced owners figured out a place to stay.

It was incredible.

On Wednesday tweets started coming out that the firefighters needed protein bars and energy drinks to keep up their strength. Since they were defending my city, and specifically the house where my brother is currently living (he's fine, his house is fine), I decided to reach out to a couple of Boulderites who have a far more impressive reach than I do.

First, using Facebook and Twitter, I wrote to Sean Foreman from 3OH!3, who Mike and I graduated high school with. He immediately started tweeting about what was needed and where to bring it.

Then I decided that the people who have Costco packs of Powerbars might just be following someone who works as an editor at Men's Health Magazine. And thankfully I happen to know an editor at Men's Health Magazine. And he happens to be a CU graduate who loves Boulder as much as I do. So I asked Adam to tweet to his followers that we needed help.

Soon after Adam's tweet, companies started stepping up. Detour Bar reached out to me asking where they could send products to. (I honestly never, ever expected that to happen.) Adam got in touch with Team Optimum and today I received SIX HUNDRED protein bars which I brought to the Boulder Reservoir, where hundreds of firefighters are camped out.

And it felt awesome.

Hannah was obviously overwhelmed with excitement.

So the next time you hear about twitter or bloggers or those damn kids who can't stay off of their ridiculous smart phones, remember that it can be useful and amazing and a force to be reckoned with. Sure, most of the time it's silly and narcissistic, but sometimes, when it matters, the geeks online get shit done.

****************

The fire isn't out, yet. As of this moment, 169 homes have been confirmed as destroyed, and several of those houses belonged to firefighters. There are lots of ways to help, if you're so inclined. Click here for more information.

NYC, The Bloggess, and Dild0s. Yeah...

I've been home from NYC and BlogHer for almost two weeks and I'm still having trouble digesting it all. The different parts of the trip have been bouncing around my head since I got home, and getting them all on the page has proven to be a challenge.

So I've settled for a list of my favorite highlights. Maybe you don't care and you won't find this entertaining at all, but for the sake of posterity I'm choosing to not really give a shit about that.

(If this doesn't appeal to you, might I suggest you head on over to my other blog with my mom, She Thinks? Today's topic: "Is there a correct answer to the question: 'Does my ass look too big for these jeans?'" Trust me, you want to check it out.)

And so I present:

Ally's Highlights from BlogHer '10 & New York City
or
What Ally Can Remember
(not because she was drunk (the whole time) but because NYC and BlogHer always tend to end up blurryish...)
("blurryish" is totally a real word.)

The hotel bathroom. If you read about my last BlogHer trip, you know why this is a highlight. As I walked toward the ballroom for a party, I saw the closest bathroom and immediately turned for it. Of course, my most favoritest writer/blogger/comedienne/crazypersonEVER, Jenny The Bloggess, was there. What's more, she remembered me. She hugged me. She was happy to see me. It made me feel like I mattered. And I never even made it into the actual party, because I was right where I wanted needed to be. Later she called me her personal Sarah Silverman (of the bathroom). My mom hates Sarah Silverman, but I'm pretty sure Jenny loves her (as I do), so I'm taking that as an amazing compliment. Or maybe Jenny hates Sarah too and I've completely misinterpreted our relationship.

Going to Bloomingdale's. My grandparents were New Yorkers through and through, no matter where they lived. Even though they loved Colorado, New York City was a huge part of their identity. And Bloomingdale's in NYC is a big fucking deal. So when Mike bought a pair of shoes, and they put them in that famous Brown Bag? It meant something to me. Especially since it was the day before my grandma's birthday, and I think she would have been thrilled.

Seeing some amazing girls from high school. Because Mike came with me, a pseudo-high school reunion happened in the city while we were there. One of his friends lives in Manhattan, another in Brooklyn, one came down from Boston, and another made a last minute trip in from St. Louis. I was a little nervous because I didn't actually know these ladies in high school. I knew who they were, but I never talked to them or hung out with them. (I suggest you read this to get an idea as to why I don't know many people in my graduating class.) I was afraid I wouldn't be comfortable with them. But the time spent with these girls were some of my favorite moments in NYC. We laughed our asses off. We drank our asses off. I felt like we were ALL old friends, which was wonderful.

Getting to spend time with Angela and Crystal (AKA Perckle). These ladies made me laugh and reminded me why I love to go to these blogging conferences.

I thought I saw Toby from The Office eating pizza by himself at 3 AM. Thankfully Mike convinced me it wasn't him before I asked Fake Toby if he wanted company and if he could sign my bra...

I decorated a dild0. (See how I spelled it with a zero? I'm being sneaky.) Yep, it totally happened. I fell in love the awesome girls from Eden Fantasys, and they hosted a dild0 decorating party on the last night of the conference.

I was going for "Lady Gaga" but ended up with "Drag Queen". (Yes, those are two different looks.) But trying to make a bubble dress on a sex toy is fucking hard - er, difficult - y'all. Crafts have never been my strength. This party also involved spending some more time with Jenny, Angela and Perckle, plus the awesome ladies from Twitarded. (In case you're wondering, being at a sex toy decorating party with Twilight freaks led to some interesting and awesome conversations.)

Eating with the lovely, amazing, AWESOMETASTIC Tara on the last night of BlogHer. We laughed, we walked through Times Square, and we made Mike feel uncomfortable with talks about pregnancy and vaginas. (Are you seeing a theme to my weekend?)

Seeing Wicked. This was my third time seeing it, and it's still amazing and magical.

Having dinner with my cousin and his fiance. It was the first time I've met his future wife, and it's nice to know I'll have a new cousin who I adore. Plus, we had cheese fries, which is always a big fat bonus.

Spending time with Mike. After all these years, he's still my favorite person to explore with.

On BlogHer and a New Project

Her: Why are you going to New York City?

Me: To see my friends.

BlogHer is this week and I'm so freaking excited. I'm excited to see the people that I only get to see once, maybe twice, a year. I'm excited to run around Manhattan with Mike. I'm excited to eat and drink and shop and OHMYGOD people I just want to GO already.

It's easy to get caught up in the drama of the conference. To get obsessed with free shit and private parties and who's who and where the cool people are. I'm trying desperately to stay away from it all. I'm trying to control my knee jerk reaction to grab everything handed to me (I DON'T NEED ANOTHER FLASH DRIVE), or to try to get into every party there is.

Because? It's not worth it. I'm not going for all of that. Hell, I'm not really going for the conference part at all. I'm going because I just want to see some amazing women who I love dearly. (And I'm so sad that some of them won't be there.)

I'm going because most days I feel completely lost, but when I'm with these people, I feel like maybe I get it. Maybe it'll be okay. Maybe...

And for that? I'll put up with muggy New York City in August.

Alright, enough with the sappy BlogHer crap. Onto bigger and bloggy-er things:

My mom and I started a new blogging project together. It's called She Thinks and it's now live. Every week we take a topic submitted by our readers and we each write about it and post it on www.SheThinks.com. We already have 3 posts up, and every Monday there will be a new one, so tell us what you think. We're also on Twitter and have a Facebook page, if you're into that sort of thing.

Otherwise, I'll see you in NYC.

Fight or Flight

A few weeks ago Mike and I had to go downtown at 2 in the morning to help a friend with a flat tire.

(Because we're the best friends ever.)

We decided to take the dogs with us because we're also the best parents ever.

So while Mike was helping with the tire, I took the dogs out of the car so that they could roll around in the grass because rolling in the grass is apparently the best activity ever when you're a dog.

At one point I looked up and saw a deer running down the sidewalk. It was majestic and beautiful and then it turned and started to run (gallop?) right at me.

The deer was at least 6 feet tall and had fangs and foam coming from it's mouth.

(Mike tells me it was cute and little and possibly even a baby but I'm thinking he's just blocked the horrible image from his mind.)

The smart, reasonable part of my brain knew that this deer was way more scared of me and my two barking dogs than I was of it.

The other part of my brain, the part that thinks cute cuddly kittens are going to rip my throat out, was screaming THIS IS HOW YOU ARE GOING TO DIE, ALLY.

(I think I should point out that I had just seen this presentation at Ignite Boulder. Check out the whole video, but particularly the part at 2:08.)

(Thanks a lot, Josh.)

So I screamed. And Bonnie barked. And Hannah LUNGED FOR THE GOD DAMN DEER because she's cute but not exactly the smartest canine. And the deer stopped and stared because apparently that whole "deer in headlights" thing also applies to "deer being barked at while girl screams profanities".

So there I was, at 2 AM, trying to drag 100-plus pounds of dog away from Bambi on Steroids, screaming something eloquent like "HOLY-FUCKING-SHIT-MIKE-GET-IT-GET-IT-GET-IT."

He just stood there, yelled at me to run, and then laughed his ass off.

Really, Mike? If I have to get the spiders out of our house because you're busy hiding in the other room, then I think it's only fair that you take a more active role when I'm being run down by a predator.

Is that too much to ask?

(PS: I just Googled "are deer predators?" and all that came up were articles about the predators OF deer which totally isn't what I asked, Google. Apparently deer are pretty much at the bottom of the food chain and they just eat a whole lot of grass, BUT some deer consume meat when it's available. So really? I feel confident in saying that Bonnie, Hannah and I could have been eaten that night.)

(PPS: Mike tried to tell me that there are so many "deaths caused by deer" because of traffic accidents that happen when deer are in the road. Yeah, nice try buddy. You're just trying to explain why you didn't rescue us. I'd like to see how many of those deaths were caused because the victim was MAULED and then EATEN.)

(PPPS: OHMIGOD, don't Google "how many people are mauled by deer?".)

(PPPPS: And the results from searching "how many people are eaten by deer?" are really disappointing.)

I Shouldn't Be Allowed to Talk to Children

Last week I went to a summit put on by Girls in Tech. It was all about mentoring and my mentor, the fabulous Tara Anderson, spoke. She talked about the qualities that make a good mentor, and though she left out the most important part of our mentoring relationship (booze), it was really interesting.

Part of her presentation involved an activity where each of us took a note card that had a picture of a character from a movie. Each of these characters was either a mentor or a mentee (?). So there was Harry Potter and Dumbledore, Yoda and whatshisname from Star Wars (I think the one with daddy issues), and others.

Including Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling.

Guess who I got?

So I walked around looking for who had Jodi Foster and what do ya know but my counterpart is one of the three 14 year-old girls that was there. And she had no idea who the fuck Hannibal Lecter was or what The Silence of the Lambs was about. So it fell to me to teach, or mentor, if you will, this poor soul.

This is what we were here for. To impart wisdom on bright young girls who need our guidance.

So I explained: "Silence of the Lambs is an award-winning film about this chick, Clarice Starling, who's in the FBI and she's trying to find this creepy guy who takes women and puts them in this hole and makes them put lotion on themselves so he can make a giant suit made out of their skin so he can dance around in front of mirrors and so Clarice goes to this other creepy guy named Hannibal Lecter who's in prison because he's kind of screwed up and really likes to eat people, which isn't really good, ya know? So anyway he has to help Clarice because really? What else is he gonna do with his time? And he's really smart, plus I think he kinda gets off on watching her struggle."

I paused to let the girl take it all in. She just looked at me like I was the weird one (even though she's the one who hasn't seen it), and then she decided to share what she thought a good mentor should be like.

She said that a mentor shouldn't just give their mentee (seriously, is that a real word?) the answers, but should support them and let them figure things out on their own.

Which is EXACTLY what Hannibal Lecter did for Clarice Starling, so I nodded my head and said, "You know what? You're just like Hannibal Lecter".

Looking back, maybe I shouldn't have compared her to a serial killer, but really? The resemblance in their mentoring philosophy was uncanny. It was like she was meant to be told about this shit by me, which is pretty powerful.

Basically, I'm the best mentor ever. Just think how good I'd be if there was alcohol involved.

Maybe next time...

If her mother ever lets me talk to her again.

PS: BUT REALLY? Isn't it better that she learns about this from someone like ME, in a safe environment, rather than some freak on the streets? Her mother should be thanking me.