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Newsletter editor Lily here.
Well, I can’t speak for wherever y’all live, but New York City has descended into a bit of a dystopian nightmare in the past 72 hours in particular. There’s no toilet paper in sight at virtually any drugstore or grocery chain, ambulance sirens are constantly wailing as they head to the hospital near my apartment, and a man just yelled at me and a bunch of people in line at the pharmacy because we weren’t standing 12 feet away from him. Ah, New York.
We’ve announced a lot of dramatic new things already this year. There’s the Chairman Mom app. (Still in beta, but coming to the App Store soon!) There’s our plan to buy 1,000 working women dinner this year, finding them their new best friend/business partner/confidant in the process. (Think of it like Tupperware parties, but the product is empowerment…)
Now there is something else exciting to tell you about, believe it or not. Since last August, our team has been working tremendously hard on an adjacent, but new, idea.
I am five years late to the #1 New York Times bestseller Salt Sugar Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us, but I’ve been—har—devouring it this past week.
I’ve already written here about the monumentally infuriating weaponization of working mom guilt that giant food companies intentionally engaged in to drive profits while creating an obesity epidemic among those women’s kids. Who gets blamed when all that processed, packaged, and convenient fast food had massive unintended and undisclosed or outright misled health impacts? The working moms who weren’t home doing home cooked meals, of course.
Announcement: We’ve got a Chairman Mom dinner coming up in Newton, Massachusetts on April 2nd and one this spring (date TBD) in Sydney, Australia. Email email@example.com to RSVP to the Newton dinner or show interest in the Sydney dinner! Now onto our intro…
I have insane and vivid dreams that always seem pregnant with meaning.
Here’s one from last week: I don’t remember/won’t bore you with a lot of the context, but this part is seared in my head.
Paul and Evie and I were trying to get back to a train station so we could shuttle to a second English country house for some sort of Chairman Mom event. (I think?) It kept shifting whether we owned these houses or were using them or were guests and it also kept shifting which was the more desirable and it was a strange amalgamation of people at them. But I know we were pulled between both and had to keep going back and forth which was a logistical challenge. (I can’t remember where Eli was, but the sense was he was fully taken care of and not abandoned. This is important because typically I have nightmares that I’ve forgotten about or abandoned my kids on nights they’re at their dad’s house. Divorce is super fun!)
The entire feminist world has spent several days mourning Elizabeth Warren’s (and every other female candidate’s) departure from the presidential race. I don’t want or need to pile on to the “why didn’t she get traction” narrative that’s, in many cases, being driven by the media outlets that minimized or erased her when she was actually in the race.
I started to read this article in The Atlantic because it seemed to back up two recent epiphanies I’ve written about professional women. The headline grabbed me: “America Punished Elizabeth Warren for Her Competence.”
Samantha Barnes, CEO of Raddish, hosted her first Chairman Mom dinner last week, and the feedback was, again, insanely positive. (Welcome to those of you who joined Chairman Mom after the dinner and may be reading your first newsletter!)
The central question was inspired by the icebreaker I shared from the first CM dinner: Share one moment big or small that you are proud of. What resulted was an incredibly galvanizing, vulnerable, and powerful conversation that went until 2:15 am. That wasn’t even on our list of suggested questions, but it is now!
Newsletter editor Lily here.
As you all know, following an existential crisis while cheering people on at the New York City marathon, I decided I was going to pick back up my decade-long dream of running a marathon myself.
Next Saturday, my training calls for me to run essentially the distance of a half marathon, so I thought, why not enter an actual race? Now, me and two of the three friends who are heading to Utah with me in June (the other is based in Wyoming) are going to run the Brooklyn Spring Half Marathon, which is essentially a chill race that requires four loops around Prospect Park. A couple of friends are coming to cheer us on (and make funny signs), and then we’re all going to brunch after.
Announcement: We’ve got spots open at our Chairman Mom dinners in Seattle (March 14th) and Toronto (March 10th), so email firstname.lastname@example.org if you’re interested! You can learn more about what these dinners are like here.
Now onto our intro…
OK, so apparently there are companies charging women hundreds of dollars to make them some friends. Please, for the love of cats, tell your friend to try Chairman Mom for $5/month first! I’ve made more real world friends on this site than any other!
I have a friend who is an astrologist, and semi-regularly we have evenings at my home called “Veuve & Insights.” My friend Kristen brings nice champagne, I order Burmese food, and our friend Bevin, the astrologist, brings the insights.
As many of you know, I’ve always wanted to have more kids and haven’t been able to. It’s heartbreaking, and in addition to having to share custody of my kids, it’s definitely the thing I struggle with most. So every time I’ve ever had any kind of reading done, I ask about the chances of having more kids.
I raced to finish Uncanny Valley this past weekend and not just because we’re two months into the year and I’ve gotta keep on track with my reading goal. My friend Kim Scott invited me to a dinner with the author, Anna Wiener, and as an author myself, I know how it feels to talk to a room of folks who haven’t quite gotten around to reading your book yet.
I have to admit this was not a book on my to-read list. It’s the story of a 20-something woman who leaves her limited options in the publishing industry to work for a startup. My general sense of the book before reading it was that it was another of those “I had no idea!” gradual exposés of the evils of an industry.