What I Learned: Panelist Version

I spent the last 18 hours in New York as a celebrity panelist. Not just New York, but the epicenter of the world's economy. Won't name names, but there I was: tragedy-hawkers hawking 9/11 wares, mesh gates guarding the great reveal, newbies like me confused about a grid that no longer exists down there. I tried not too look up because I remember, at 19, my father telling me that I would seem like a tourist if I did.

It's been thirteen years since I was in that part of the city.

(I entertained a rock band and several employees on the company credit card at Windows on the World. It seemed pretty badass/anti-punk at the time. I danced with some man I didn't know. I laughed my ass off and shivered at the edge, looking over.)

I returned to that hallowed ground, that neighborhood I'd walked when I was a different woman, that my father walked decades before, to speak about my experiences of motherhood, about all the choices I'd made since that day and every day after. The irony? Was it irony?

I was there to tell my truth about the work/life balance for a slew of powerful women in powerful places. I was there because I told a couple stories in Torn. I was there with a gaggle of mom-writers -- a doctor, a TV pro, a "teen" mom done good, better, best. In our midst, as well, was a mom with stats and figures and (OMG) shocking information from the Center of Work Life Policy.

I was the... Damn, I was the at-home mom. Even ten years later, I struggle to say it.

I was a squid in a world of sharks.

Sharks with no teeth, it turned out. Gummy women just like me.

Turned out, despite my less than clout, I had stories to tell, and turned out, like always, we all do.

Beside the obvious -- wait for the pedestrian light to turn green before you hobble across the street in red patent high heels; you can NOT run in those muthafuckas -- I learned so, so, SO much. I'm stewing it all -- and promise to share... But for now, for now, I can tell you this that I learned:

1) Anytime you say the word "alcohol" people will laugh.

2) Also: "bail"

3) No one can see your shoes anyway.

4) Or your dress really.

5) When you use a phrase like "big ups," direct it toward the men.

This will make you feel okay about saying something so douche-y.

6) When you get emotional shivers, say that you have shivers.

7) Try not to touch your face/twirl your ankle/fiddle.

8) Tell your stories like you're sitting at a bar.

9) It's amazing what might happen after you do.

10) And after you do, go to a bar.