Guest Blogging Awesomeness: Brainleaf

I am thrilled to be a guest contributor on the BrainLeaf blog. My post “10 Conventional (And Not-So-Conventional) Ways to Find Freelance Work” was recently published. Here is an excerpt from my post:

"The technological revolution took over the world of freelancing during my time away, and new methods of getting work have surfaced. I still use many of those conventional practices from back in the day, and many tend to be profitable – a classic is a classic for a reason, after all. But the more 'alternative' ways to get hired have proved lucrative as well."

Click here to read the full post

Brainleaf is a project scoping app that helps freelancers and web studio owners manage client expectations. Check it out and sign up as a beta user today over at http://brainleaf.com.

I'm Not Speaking to Winter

Here is a recent picture that I took of Ginger. I took it with my iPad when I was in bed. That's where I've been spending a lot of my time lately. In fact, I'm in bed right now. It could either be the fact that I have the best flannel sheets around, or that I'm in the throes of my yearly bout of seasonal affective disorder. 

You might remember me mentioning my SAD in a post I wrote this summer about Robin Williams. And of course, on a warm, beautiful summer day, it's easy to write about winter depression. That's when I'm like, Yeah, I remember what that feels like. But this winter is going to be different! But now that it's January, I'm reminded of how totally sucky it really is. 

There are a few things that are getting me through these dreary months. 

1. My hubby, my family, the friends who know the ins and outs of what I refer to as "my stuff." And my two furry buddies who share the bed with me, Ginger and Coco.

2. My work. Depression does this thing to the brain where it just doesn't process things correctly, but writing seems to cut through that fog. The house is less-than-organized and I've barely seen the other side of my block in over a month, but I'm staying on top of my workload and deadlines. Yay me. 

3. Humor. I'm always fascinated these days when I actually manage a decent pun or funny quip. My brain is still able to find hilarity even when things aren't awesome. A few minutes ago, I asked BJ to pick up some milk on the way home. He asked, "Anything else?" And without missing a beat, I said, "A new brain, if they have it in stock." 

I've decided to talk openly about my winter blues on here because I want depression to not be hidden under stigma - I want it to be a topic of normal conversation. "Hey, I like your shoes. By the way, I have depression." 

It is what it is. January blows, February is slightly better, and March is when everything starts to lift. Until then, you'll occasionally see me dragging myself to the gym, looking zombie-like out at dinner, or looking longingly at a cloud-filled sky. 

Since I can't relocate to Tahiti at the current time, these things I found on Pinterest have managed to lift my spirits, even inspiring a chortle here and there. Enjoy. 

ME

 

ME

ALSO ME

I Don't Get Your Deal, November.

I've recently decided that November is my least favorite month. See, I like months that are exactly as you'd picture them in your head. For example, October guarantees gourds on front doorsteps and brightly-colored leaves. July will be hot, sunny, and perfectly summery. November, on the other hand, is a crapshoot. November needs to decide what it is and stick to it.

November in my mind usually goes something like this: newly-fallen leaves tinged with a hint of frost, perfect cool temperatures for running, and an occasional turkey decoration on someone's house.

Instead, here in Madison, it's winter. Not like, "Oh, look at those first little flakes of snow." I'm talking four inches of white stuff on the ground. It's currently 16 degrees outside. I'm the only one who has "harvest" decorations on her front porch. The rest of the neighborhood is already bedazzled in Christmas lights and friendly snowmen. And I always forget how dark it is this time of year. Anyone with me on overturning daylight savings time?

Even though I am frustrated with November's identity crisis, I made the most of things this past weekend when I visited Lake Geneva, Wis., a hop, skip, and a jump from where I grew up. I think the pictures I took illustrate the current state of affairs—a post-tourist landscape stuck between fall and winter. My advice to November? Do some soul-searching and figure out who you are.

OK, I'm done with my rant now. Here are some pretty pictures.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Put a Bird On It

Yesterday, I gathered up my laptop and camera and headed to Wausau, Wis. for a morning visit to the Leigh Yawkey Woodson Art Museum, a hidden gem in the North Woods. I love an art museum, but I particularly love this one because all of the art features birds: flying, nesting, migrating. Their pieces feature the likes of Charley Harper and other greats of the wildlife art world.

As I scooted around groups of schoolchildren who were legitimately interested in the artwork, I couldn't help but notice one common theme that came across in the pieces: vulnerability. Maybe it's because birds are generally viewed as small and delicate creatures, but I noticed the fragility even more as I looked through the photos I took.

If you find your direction pointing north, I would highly recommend a visit to this lovely art museum.

 

 

 

 

 

Well, That Happened...

So, I haven't blogged in two months. For many good reasons. Life happens. I know you all can relate.

To make up for my AWOL status, I am posting several photos that I snapped a couple weeks ago when I was up North with my husband for a few days.

By the way, when I say "up North," that doesn't just mean Green Bay in Wisconsin speak. I stayed in a cabin that was less than an hour from Canada. I've decided that I'd like to have a personal cabin all to myself that overlooks a lake and I'll write and write and write to my heart's content.

Until then, I'll just look at these photos again and again. Enjoy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Grandmom

Nine years ago today, my grandma (whom I referred to from a very young age as "Grandmom") passed away. Fairly unexpectedly and way too early. It's always a tough day on me and my family, and my mom and aunt have shared beautiful tributes on Facebook.

My instinct is to be sad, and it would be natural, but I'm going to use this blog post to go in a different direction: a list of 20 things I liked best about her. Here goes...*

*Disclaimer: I realize that my last post was about Robin Williams. I promise that I won't always be writing about things that may make you want to cry, call someone you care about, and eat chocolate (simultaneously).

1. Her "Yellow Bag." It was a bag where she kept toys, treats, and goodies for me, and there were always new things in it every time I visited.

2. Spaghetti and meatballs, pork chops, and Italian sausage...lovingly called "barnyard spaghetti." She would get a kick out of the fact that I'm a vegetarian now.

3. Her Uncle Sam collection

4. On Thanksgiving, when I walked in the house, I felt like I was walking into an issue of Martha Stewart Living.

5. When I was about five or so, I had a Cabbage Patch doll named Emmy. And when we would go on vacation, Grandmom would "babysit" Emmy. She would even show me the empty jars of baby food when we came home.

6. She'd listen to me talk for hours about school, friends, and things I liked. She made me feel as if I was the most fascinating person in the world.

7. Oh, and another thing about Thanksgiving. She would make me my own special pumpkin pie (one without cream cheese, which I didn't love).

8. And that word, "special." That was her word for me. She always found cards that said "special" somewhere and underlined it.

9. Her laugh

10. On holidays, Papa would try to make me eat "weird foods" (i.e. liver and onions). Grandmom would say, "Oh, Ross, leave her alone."

11. During my first year at Ripon College, she would send me cookies, cards, and other little things.

12. She was the best gift-opener in history. I'm sure that many a time, she received a less-than-desirable gift. But her reaction made it seem as if it was the best gift she had ever gotten.

13. She was constantly on the lookout for things that had my name on them, like pencils and ornaments. She knew those items were rare since my name isn't a common one.

14. At every one of my events, from basketball games to academic awards nights to school plays, she was there.

15. Speaking of basketball, she loved the Bulls, particularly Michael Jordan. She never missed a game when he played.

16. The red "You Are Special Today" plate she put out for the birthday boy or girl.

17. Her larger-than-life personality, complete with blue eyeshadow (hey, it was the 80's) to her fiery red hair.

18. She always knew just what to say. A favorite quote of hers was "This too shall pass."

19. The sights, smells, and sounds of her "Nice Things" gift shop.

20. The fact that Grandmom had a knack for making every human being she came into contact with feel important and worthwhile.

To sum up, she was just pure awesomeness.

Robin Williams

I don't consider my blog to be a place where I share things that will inevitably bring people down or to get on my soapbox, but today, I just can't stay quiet.

Robin Williams died yesterday. He had a creative mind that I always admired. It's not everyone who can seamlessly transition between a housekeeper in drag, a psychologist, and Peter Pan. He couldn't help but let his talent spill out upon whatever project he worked on.

I saw a discussion in one of my LinkedIn groups this afternoon in which the person asked for people to share their thoughts on Robin Williams' death. It opened with, "What happens when celebrities lose their way and think death is the only answer to their problems?"

No one can claim to know the inner workings of anyone's mind, but this person failed to mention something. Yes, he was a celebrity. But he was also just another person wrestling with depression.

Depression is of course a negative force that encompasses one's life. But it's also clever as hell. It's the chemical equivalent of the bully who tries to pressure you to do the exact thing you don't want to do. It seeks out your most vulnerable spots, and almost always succeeds. And if it commands something, at the time it makes perfect sense to your exhausted, weary mind.

How do I know this? I've had my own taste of it.

Every winter, I grapple with Seasonal Affective Disorder. While some people may refer to it as the "winter blues," it's much more than that. It's like a wet, heavy blanket that covers you from head to toe and no matter what you do, you can't pull it off. Every bad thing you've ever believed about yourself rushes to the forefront of your mind. The darkness outside often matches your insides.

And that's just three months a year. My heart goes out to people who face it every day of their lives. You are tougher than you know.

I've never come close to the moment of desperation Robin Williams must have reached, but at the same time, I can understand it. Like I said, in that moment, to a depressed person the thought seems reasonable. Your brain isn't firing the synapses correctly, and you take the form of another human being entirely. The fight goes out in you and you simply give in.

Depression is an incredibly stigmatized health condition. It's fine to discuss diabetes, heart disease, and osteoporosis ad nauseum, but bring up depression, and the room will bristle. I read a statistic today that 5 - 9% of Americans have depression. I believe that number is higher, but only the brave ones are reporting correctly.

If anything good comes out of Robin Williams' passing, I hope that depression is pushed out of its hiding place and into the light. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Let's bring it out into the open.