Passion. We’re told we need it. To go out and find it. To discover your passion is to discover what will bring you happiness and joy and make it rain puppy dogs and lollipops. Hell, students are now encouraged to take a “gap year” between high school and college to find theirs (I’m sure you can guess that I think this is complete and utter bullshit. Go to school. Get a job.)

But what about when passion isn’t enough? Just because you’re passionate about something doesn’t mean you’re especially good at it. Bravo to those that put their whole selves into drawing or calligraphy or macrame because they believe it’s their calling, I truly believe there’s benefit to enjoying and finding value in whatever you’re doing, but there comes a time when you just have to come to terms with being awful.

Case in point? My photography.

I love taking photography classes; listening to the professor explain concepts, critiquing and being critiqued, discovering great photos and the meaning behind them. I adore fiddling with my camera (Maybe my problem is that I’m more of a techy than a photographer?) and making the connection between this setting and that and how my photos change.

But most the of the time, my photos look like these.

Oh, yeah. Dirt.

Shadows. Or something.

Perspective. And a dirty river.

Oh look, my car. (Is it just me, or are these getting progressively worse?)

A half-dead, blurry tree. Wonder of nature, right there.

I call this one “origami in a dark room with no flash.”

Yeah. I’m bad. And it’s an expensive hobby to be passionate about and bad at. Are you terrible at anything you love to do? Do you fake it until you make it or do you laugh and do it anyway?

Thank you to LiveOn for this sponsored opportunity to blog about storing and sharing my most important memories with those closest to me. Although story ideas were provided, all thoughts and opinions are my own.

As part of my 40×40, I bought myself a fancy DSLR camera (three cheers for self-gifting!) and signed up for a photography class at the city art school. I loved it, so I took another. Now I’ve got my eye on the spring catalog to take another, more advanced, photography class.

But now that I’m the designated family photographer (which isn’t to say I’m very good, just better than the other options) what do I do with those photos? How do I share them with friends and family and make sure everyone has access to the memories that they helped create?

I use LiveOn.

LiveOn is an online time capsule. It’s a brand new site that walks you though creating a timeline filled with photos, video, and audio that you can share with your nearest and dearest and preserve for generations to come. It’s a way to preserve not only the memory, but all the feelings and emotions that came with it and connect families in a meaningful way.

Amazing, right? The addition of the timeline to our online lives gives me goosebumps. I think that it is so cool that children born today will have their entire lives documented on LiveOn and can continue their own story once they are old enough. Those cringe-worthy first day of school photos and prom pictures will be preserved forever (muahaha) with LiveOn’s promise to protect your legacy.

Creating a memory is easy – you can upload media from your computer or Facebook, add audio captions in your own voice,  include all details that make the memory worth remembering, and set it to a soundtrack (which, fair warning, are a little cheesy at the moment). I created a photography portfolio memory of the 40×40 goal that started it all and I can’t wait to create holiday memories this season.

And all those memories up until today? The ones stored in boxes in the basement and old VHS tapes (some of them so embarrassing we wished they would disappear forever)? Send them to LiveOn Rewind and their team of photo preservation experts will turn those memories into high-quality digital memories. Use the coupon code cgc35 for 20% off LiveOn Rewind and start creating your story.

Thank you again to LiveOnfor sponsoring this blog post. Please click here to learn more about storing and sharing your most special memories. I was selected for this sponsorship by Clever Girls Collective. All opinions expressed here are my own. Please see my site policy with any questions.

A few weeks ago, I found a gray hair. One, stray bastard of a gray hair sticking out of the top of my head like an antenna.

It was horrifying.

Now every time I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror, I swear I spot a gray hair or two or baker’s dozen but when I investigate further, there’s nothing. Just phantom gray hairs which stress me out so much that actual gray hairs can’t be far behind.

I used to be very insistent on never coloring my hair. Then I hit puberty and my mom promptly made me an appointment for highlights (and a swift eyebrow waxing) – I never looked back. Black, red, pink streaks, platinum. I don’t flinch when I walk into a salon. Oftentimes I have to continually reassure my hairdresser that yes, that is a drastic change–no, I’m not going to cry–just do it.

Now that I’ve finally settled on my natural hair color (what the professionals call dirty dishwater blonde–jerks), I’m facing the really real reality that hair dye may soon become a necessity and not just a whim. And I don’t think I can accept that.

Mainly because I like to be difficult.

Why would I want to color my hair that shade of old lady blonde (you know the one) that supposedly hides gray so well when so many lovely ladies are embracing the gray? Why would I want to spend all that money on my hair when I could I do something significant with the money, like buy a new purse ever season for the rest of my life? I wouldn’t. And I won’t.

Instead, I’ll pray that my gray hairs are a pretty steely gray and not a wiry mousey gray and if I do start to resemble an old pube head, I’ll make an appointment at the first salon that will take me and delete this post.

If you weren’t at BlogHer, you’re probably sick of hearing about it. If you were at BlogHer, you’re definitely sick of hearing about it, but you understand that the goal of BlogHer is to take as many ridiculous photos as possible in a three day period.

Mission accomplished.

Also? Don’t let the pictures fool you. I spent most of the conference Tweeting from bed, enjoying the ocean breeze.

My sidekick is ItsToni. Or maybe I’m her sidekick. There’s really no telling.

because her outfit is a wreck.

This lovely ensemble is what Rihanna chose to wear for the filming of the video for “What’s My Name” in NYC last week.

I think I’d forget my name after seeing myself in this outfit, too.