Tag: blogging

Need. More. Coffee.

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I took this photo in Montreal. Coffee in another country always tastes better!

The Coudal family drinks a lot of coffee. More coffee than you and your family, I bet. Not that it’s a contest.

I love coffee. When I started blogging, my first post was about how much I love coffee. (I’ve rewritten this.)

I started drinking coffee at NYU. My ex-husband Jim got me hooked. Jim put sugar and milk in his coffee. If it spilled in his saucer, he slurped it up. I thought that was cool and kind of rebellious.

I just added milk. That was in the ’80s. Back in the day before hazelnut, mocha latte, grande, etc.  My ex and I split up eventually. (The slurping from the saucer probably didn’t help. Things that once seemed cool became annoying.)  But I never split with coffee. Once for Lent, I considered giving coffee up. But I didn’t want the headache.

At the New Age Spa, in Neversink, New York, a few years back, I heard they didn’t allow caffeine.

On my first night there, at the communal dining table, a frizzy-haired woman slipped me a pack of instant coffee across the table. She was very sly.

“You’re new here right?” she asked.

 “How did you know?” I asked. I’d just arrived from the car.

 “You’re wearing a cashmere sweater and pearls. Look around — Everyone else is in sweats.”

 I looked around. She was right. I could see I was going to like this place.

 “I’m checking out tomorrow morning,” the woman said. “But you can have my extra coffee packets. Don’t let anyone know.” She looked around, her eyes squinting.

I never used her packs of Sanka, but just knowing that I had the little packet coffee in the back pocket of my sweat pants comforted me.

Coffee would be there for me if I needed it. And I do need it.

Coffee loves me unconditionally.

Recent studies show that coffee keeps women from depression. Check out Consumer Report Study on Coffee. Four or more cups a day? Fine, you’ll be 20 percent less likely to be depressed. So, go ahead. Have another cup of coffee. Better yet, have four. I dare you. Just try to keep up with me!

Death by Perfection

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It is not inadequacy that is my enemy, it is my belief that I should be above inadequacy.

Perfectionism is the enemy of art.

On a few summer afternoons, my father and I painted on the porch of the Big House. We’d just come back from painting classes in Burlington, Vermont and we could experiment with new techniques.

The feeling of a paintbrush in my fingers thrills me, but my paintings? Not so much.

I fail to make art or share it, because I know it’s not perfect. Not yet. I do not want to expose myself to other’s criticism or hear their good and helpful ideas.

I think I must throw it all out there, acknowledge my work is a work in progress. As is my life.

I remember this slogan from a 12-step meeting, “high perfectionism, low productivity; low perfectionism, high productivity.” If my work is good enough and done, that is far better than perfect and never done.

Saying No to a Culture of Criticism

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“There are too many noises in the apartment. The dryer buzzer just buzzed. It’s supposed to buzz three times. It only buzzed once,” Coco woke me from a deep sleep to tell me this. I walked her back to her room, laying beside her in her twin bed.

I thought about my last couple of days.

I was so proud to have gotten published in Salon and so unprepared for the barrage of criticism. My mind drifted to my workplace book club where my women colleagues had so many negative things to say about the Think: Straight Talk for Women to Stay Smart in a Dumbed-Down World by Lisa Bloom. I thought the book was awesome. I loved how Bloom attacks tabloids and reality shows. And, of course, those conflicts are manufactured for our entertainment.

In my lunch time book club, all these brilliant coworkers trashed Bloom because she was writing about the failings of mainstream media while she was a part of media herself.

At Salon.com all these people criticized me for my story when I never asked what they thought (but I guess Salon asked by opening the comments to a free-for-all.) I wrote more about this on my writing blog yesterday. http://gettingmyessayspublished.wordpress.com/

Last night, comforting my daughter, holding her hand as she drifted back to sleep, I thought, we live in a society of criticism. We constantly criticize one another. I’m not sure if it’s the vitriol of reality shows, politics or our own insecurity over jobs, relationships, parenting, whatever.

Trash talking bonds people together. “Look, isn’t Bloom an idiot!” “Yes, I agree.” But the whole thing leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Not a sweet one.

An article popped up on my Twitter feed this morning — about happiness helping productivity (Do Happier People Work Harder? by Teresa Amabile and Steven Kramer)  http://ow.ly/6kXqQ

Employees are far more likely to have new ideas on days when they feel happier.

Yes! True for me. When I delight in criticism of other people I internalize it, get in a habit of criticism and then criticize myself and hold back on my creativity and kindness — as if we should be stingy with our happiness. As if joy in life, in our accomplishments were a weakness not a strength.

I struggle every single freakin’ day to be happy.

While I’m criticizing our culture for being so critical, I’m also happy there are writers like Bloom, Amabile, Kramer, and even me. Who ask, What do we need if not more criticism? The Times article says we need to “support workers’ everyday progress.” Simply pay attention to one another’s well being and stop the barrage of negativity. Simplistic? Maybe.

I go back to my rules, especially my rule learned from improv. Say yes! Happiness is harder but encouragement is essential. I like to take the difficult path.

Coco was fast asleep in her twin bed by now. The dryer had stopped tumbling. I was falling asleep myself. I unwound from her blankets. As I pulled my hand away, she squeezed it. Thanks!

My Salon

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I never asked what all these commenters thought. I never really asked what anyone thought except for the writers in Joanna’s and Charles’s classes, where I had workshopped the story.

And yes, I wanted to know what an editor thought.

I’d sent the story to the Salon editor late Wednesday, thanks to the query challenge from Robert Lillegard. (See the comments at: http://gettingmyessayspublished.wordpress.com/2011/08/30/the-westport-workshops/)

SH replied on Thursday over my lunch hour. I got her email while sitting in the hairdresser’s chair. She said my story “had potential.”

Nice! A new hair cut and a potential piece at the best literary and intellectual site online.

SH asked if I’d intended to publish under a pseudonym. No. She’d begun a line edit. She had legitimate questions about chronology and adding a “message moment.” That is, a moment to give the experience a meaning, an Aha! She was right.

I worked on the story; she worked on it. In a few hours, we were done. But commenters don’t take hours, months, years to write their comments. They dash them off.

I was surprised by the comments. At seven am, on Friday, I read the first seven. Then I stopped reading. I have very little experience with negative comments. The people who’ve commented on my blogs may spin out their own thoughts, but they don’t rip me.

I asked a couple of people what the comments said. My aunt (Ellen Wade Beals) emailed me; she said some of the comments were funny, some complimentary, and some snarky. One friend told me a lot of the commenters are commenting on each other’s comments. I didn’t need to go there. (And my sister emailed me with one direct message: don’t comment back!)

My only experience with negative comments was long ago on my article in the New York Times City section in the form of a letter to the editor. It was from an ASPCA representative quibbling with the way I’d represented their agency in my funny essay about the squirrel trapped in my airshaft. Fair enough.

At that time I took pride in the ASPCA’s letter to the editor. Aha! A letter to the editor meant my NYTimes story hit a nerve or was controversial. And now, I’m trying to take pride in the comments (that I’m not reading) on my Salon.com story. It’s a badge of courage to be criticized, commented on, and then survive (to blog about it.)

My cousin Susan Elster Jones sent me an amazing email last night. She said, One of my best professors once told me that the work isn’t really finished until you share it. And the more uncomfortable that feels-probably means the work is really strong. Thank you for sharing!

So, go ahead, comment away. Sure, I’m feeling defensive, sensitive, uncomfortable, but also proud, strong, happy. Uncomfortable.

Credit Card Habit

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I have gone eight days without using my credit card. I’ve blogged about being clueless over family finances. On a regular basis I commit myself to getting over my disinterest in the financial state of the union. https://mbcoudal.wordpress.com/2011/03/03/stocks-and-numbers/

This week I paid cash for all lunches and dinners out. I bought all groceries with cash.

The hardest part was when I stopped at Apthorp Pharmacy to restock my dwindling supply of the usual sunscreen/moisturizer/tint stuff that comes in a small tube. “$38!”

Paying with credit card, I would’ve whipped it out and thought nothing of it, but with cash, hmmmmmm? I hesitated to part with my two twenties. I didn’t buy it. “I’m sure you can find some old sunscreen/moisturizer around the apartment,” I told myself.

Monet's water lilies at the MoMA are so amazing! This image has nothing to do with this post, except that it makes me exceedingly happy to look at Monet's paintings. I took this pic the other night.

It’s always possible to find cheap alternatives.

Coming home from the East Village the other night at 10:30, I would’ve hopped in a cab. I have an unwritten rule not to take the subway after 10 pm. But the $2.25 subway fare seemed much more sensible than a $22.50 cab. And without kids at home (they’re still at camp), why rush?

Watching people on the subway late at night is an entertaining and cheap thrill! The subway ride takes longer. But hey, lose time, save money.

I decided to try  22 days without a credit card because I bought a journal/financial book that promises in 22 days you can change your financial habit. I thought you needed 66 days to change a habit. Whatever.

I had a huge credit card statement the other day — upwards of $5,000 — and there was not much of substance on it — a few orthodontia charges, automatic payments for cable and phone, trip to Chicago, my writer’s class – but no real big ticket items.

Partly I blog to hold myself responsible. So by admitting I have a problem with my cash flow and then blogging about it, I figure I can change it.

Just like when I admitted I wanted to lose 5 to 10 pounds? The pounds didn’t just drop off. Um, still waiting.

Blogging helps me turn my attention to ways I can do better and areas where I need to focus.

Money and weight. I know I’m not wildly out of control, I’m just not where I want to be.

I Search Myself

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I google my name. And I find myself. Here’s what else I find:

Sites I have quoted quote me. Like the Poverty Initiative: http://www.povertyinitiative.org/news The internet is an echo chamber.

I am the only me. I love having a unique name. I don’t know if I’m one word or two — Mary Beth, MaryBeth or MB. I think I should go with MB because look where it got JK, better than had she been Kathleen.

I have no secrets. When I tweeted from the emergency room, yup that tweet remains google-able. While the internet remembers, I want to forget.

I have secrets. I actually have a secret garden — It is one of my 7 Rules: https://mbcoudal.wordpress.com/2010/06/07/214/

Google refines its searches of me in two other ways:
1. “gbgm Mary Beth Coudal” makes sense since I’ve published hundreds of articles at gbgm-umc.org. But the other search prompt is a bit of a surprise.

2. “mental illness mary beth coudal” Yes, I’m matched with the vast category of mental illness. Is the internet trying to tell me something?

(I think it is because one of my most reposted articles was on how church people could/should/might treat mental illness the same as they treat other illnesses — that is, with help, dinner deliveries, prayers, empathy, love…)

Those are a few of the things I learn when I google myself. What do you learn when you google your name?

Social Media Mania

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I’ve been trying to post on one of my blogs every day for the month of June. Yesterday I was dragging. I didn’t have anything to say, couldn’t come up with a good idea, had too many social occasions to attend. One of those occasions was our monthly Lunch and Learn workshop which is a venue for our brilliant Communications staff to share their expertise.

At yesterday’s lunch, Beth Buchanan of the web team gave an awesome Prezi.com session. The title? Social Media Mania. It inspired and informed the two dozen of us there, half of us experts (ahem! like moi?) and half beginners (moi aussi!). After Beth’s session, I felt energized to get through my slog of a daily blog.

Here are a few take-aways from Beth.

Beth's profile pic!

How do we get into social media?

  1. Sign in
  2. Listen
  3. Engage
  4. Evaluate

I’m not particularly good at Numbers 2 and 4, but I am going to be!

Buchanan emphasized a few best practices for social media. Such as “Do onto others as you would have them do unto you.” In other words, think before posting.

Social media is a conversation, not a monologue, she said. So don’t swamp people with your point of view without taking an interest in theirs.

Another novel concept — and why haven’t I thought of this? — Have a social media strategy and make it work for you. To get thinking about this, start with the question, Who is my audience? (How am I supposed to know!)

I loved some of Beth’s quotes (and did tweet them during the session), like this one: “You establish who you are by what you post.”

On Twitter, Beth said if you’re tweeting for a company — for every three business posts, include one personal post. Duh! I microblog on Twitter for New World Outlook magazine @NWOMag and for myself @MaryBethC but I don’t cross-over; personal is personal and business is business. But I’ll try to cross-pollinate, just like Beth Buchanan, the social media maven at Global Ministries, does. Thanks, Beth! @BJBuc and @connectNmission !

Beth is the friend and colleague who got me started on blogging, Facebook and Twitter. And now there’s no stopping me! At least for the month of June!

Summer To Do List

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  1. Hold a baby
  2. Go to the IWWG (International Women’s Writing Guild) conference at Yale http://www.iwwg.org/2011-summer-conference
  3. Take art classes with my father and sister in Vermont  http://www.black-horse.com/PDF/Art%20Event%20Flyer%202010.pdf
  4. Take H. and his friends to 6 Flags for his birthday
  5. Continue to work hard and have passion for my day job
  6. Take family to Ocean Grove, NJ, Jones Beach, or Shelter Island over 4th of July weekend
  7. Keep writing every day
  8. Toes in the grass and picnics in Riverside Park as often as weather allows
  9. Get a mani-pedi
  10. Join Improv or comedy class
  11. Meet with agent again on book
  12. Revisit my young adult novel
  13. Read all books for book clubs
  14. Keep working out every day — tennis, Pilates, biking, or running
  15. Visit a church a day once kids go to camp
  16. Update my resume
  17. Get more help for Chris and household management
  18. Research joining a writer’s room or applying for writer-in-residence program
  19. Befriend new families in kids’ new Fall schools/classes
  20. Prepare kids well for camp
  21. Have a party while kids are at camp
  22. Replace or do something about annoying kitchen cabinets
  23. Eat more fish
  24. Walk across the Brooklyn Bridge
  25. Comment on and read other blogs
  26. Tweet every day
  27. Do a reading of my work at least once a month
  28. Plan an international trip for me and the kids
  29. Get my bike tuned up
  30. Quit making lists
What’s on your Summer To Do list?

More Friends

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I’ve been trying to drive up my number of Facebook friends to surpass 1,000.  I believe the more friends you have, the more you achieve.

There are studies to bear this out. UCLA researchers studied LA high school students and discovered More school friends?=better grades. I like to think that the study goes for more adult friends too. More work friends?=better work.

Journal of Research on Adolescence — adolescents with more in-school friends than out-of-school friends had higher grade-point averages and — complementing this finding — that those with higher GPAs had more in-school friends. (from http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/06/100603172221.

It fits in beautifully with my Rules for Happiness #1 — Pile on the People. https://mbcoudal.wordpress.com/2011/05/23/pile-on-people-and-activities/

The key for me is to draw the circle wide. My friends are varied in status, age, race, gender.

I learned a long time ago, especially as a writer, that the person to befriend is not the CEO but the CEO’s assistant. He or she is the one who really knows what’s going on and can get you the good story.

I love that FB has made the word friend a verb as well as a noun. It’s no secret that I’m in love with social media, especially blogging on WordPress.

One of my real (and FB) friends mentioned that she’s concerned that by blogging we’re creating a false sense of intimacy. Maybe it’s true we reveal a little too much of ourselves. I’m not sure — to figure out what I think about this, I’ll have to talk it over with one of my friends. Or maybe I’ll just instant message them.

3 Simple Rules

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When I used to do stand up, I would tell myself 3 things right before I went on stage:

1. Be yourself

2. Have fun

3. It’s important

And I am trying to tell myself these same 3 rules at the start of every day.

I did not sleep well last night. One of the darlings came into bed with me at around 2. She’s nearly as big as an adult so she woke me. We have no air conditioning. It was  hot. I tossed and turned. Then I  moved to my daughter’s now-empty bed. I’d heard an antidote to insomnia is changing rooms.

As I walked in the hall, I heard the television was still on. My husband stays up way too late into the night, sometimes until 3 or 4. Then of course he falls asleep in the early evening hours when you’re talking to him (blame the Parkinson’s). Hearing the television just made me feel all sad and jumbled — my life, my restless night, my work. And I couldn’t wait until morning so I could dump all my thoughts, worries, dreams, into my journal.

1. Be yourself. Because there is a unique point of view based on a unique life’s journey. And for whatever reason, this is my journey. This is mine.

2. Have fun. Because I seriously believe that we are put on this earth to give and experience joy. The goal in life is to be happy, joyous, and free.

3. It’s important. Because I can easily dismiss my point of view, or expect that I am less than. But what I have to say is important.

I did fall asleep in my daughter’s bed and woke to write all this in my journal.