Sunday, July 30, 2006

The Tim Tams Are Dead.

I ate them ALL.

I had to.

The D.I.E.T with a
capital D,
capital I,
captial E,
capital T, starts tomorrow. It was my last hurrah!

In fact, my scale conveniently died on me so I am even going to Target to get a replacement one tomorrow (and also search for the candy bars I need to mail to the winners).

My fortune cookie tonight (yes, because since the diet starts tomorrow, I had to gorge myself today, and that included BK, then Chinese food for dinner)...

"The next few days are a lucky time for you. You can take a chance."

So, come on AGENT A, call me! Take a chance on me! Take a chance on me! (And those are the only words I know from the ABBA song)...You've got my manuscript. I'm ready to deal!

Going to bed now. I'm reading this:
Pretty Little Dirty then next up, Straight Up And Dirty which a kind commenter (RR, BFF) told me my story and Swishy's inaugural waxing story were way more funnier than Stephanie Klein's. I’ll have to skip to that part of the book and judge for myself.

The Dreams

Every night for the past three nights I’ve been having a dream that seems to be a sequence. They are dreams involving my husband and how he no longer loves me.

The first night’s dream, we were breaking up.

The second night’s dream, I watched, as in slow-motion, he kissed a dark-haired girl that he had fallen in love with. He kissed her and he knew I watched. It crushed me.

Last night’s dream, I cannot shake. It’s the kind of dream where you beg your conscious to surface from the water, but when it does, it treads all day long, skimming your thoughts, always there, like a buoy on the turbulent ocean.

We had broken up in September, and this is before we were married. We were apart, and I remember thinking, I will never be kissed that way again, never. I will never feel as close to a person as I have with him. By the time July rolled around, I was still numb, but making my way through my days, my life, somehow.

A new boy arrived on the scene. One who liked me. I couldn’t believe another boy could maybe fall in love with me. He wasn’t the opposite, he was just different, but not in a bad way, just in a new way, a way where when we hugged, I still felt encompassed, yet it didn’t seem to be enough. I waited for him to kiss me, but don’t remember that first one; just remember wanting it to happen.

Flash-forward or rewind, I’m not sure. My husband, who was not then my husband, and had broken up with me in September, was there. Suddenly. It was the first time we had spoken to one another since our breakup. I don’t remember what was said, but we hugged. Tightly. But it was not sexual; it was almost like a letting go. Except we did not let go. And I remember I wished to see the expression on his face, but in this hug, our ears kissed, so I could not see his face. I had hoped he was shaking uncontrollably, crying silently, wishing things were different. But I feared he was not, and this was our goodbye.

The new boy was different, as I said. Not as sturdy, not as tall, but tall enough, not as strong, didn’t make me feel as safe. But nonetheless, I was happy as I said, to have someone want to like me, to perhaps give me a chance to fall in love again. This was like a trial, a test. Could I do it? This was a rebound. Just let me know I can try to love again, and I’ll be fine. Maybe.

He was a cyclist. You know what kind of bodies they have. Firm, strong, muscular. Toned. A great body. I wanted to get to know that body. But I was afraid to share mine. Was afraid it had been too long, it was now July. I hadn’t been with anyone since September. I was scared. Somehow, in these early dating stages, we didn’t get that far. I was afraid if he learned too much of me, if he googled me and found my blog, he wouldn’t want me. Because there were no secrets left; I had shared too much. There wasn’t anything for him to find out on his own. I didn’t have anything new to offer.

I wake, and it hurts my every breath; it hurts to inhale the air around me, and I wish to drown it out of my mind, but it stays there, that red and white buoy, bobbing up and down, reminding me of all that I have.

When my husband comes in the room, I am still there, trying to let myself out of the dream, yet it has grabbed hold of a part of me inside that I cannot shake.

I tell him I had another bad dream, about us not being together. He tells me he will never leave me and that he loves me.

Saturday, July 29, 2006

I Got The Goods!

Yesterday, I was in a low mood; this agent thing is getting me down, but I know that if I quit, they win. Not that that makes any sense right now, but I have a little motto, and it's:






So, I'm hoping my talent and persistence will pay off one day and it'll be the right timing for the right agent to come along so we can both fall madly in love with one another (or, at least with my novel)...

I was in a funk but I won't go into details cuz they're boring rejection details, but yesterday afternoon when I was begging Lovey to piss on my lawn already, or even just make a teeny-tiny poo-poo near my mailbox, I saw it...

and timing, as it is said, was everything. In that fraction of a moment, I saw it...

a brown box begging to be opened just sitting there on my front porch.

I got the goods!

The Tim Tams from Ramblin' Rose in Australia!!!

Whooooo Hooooo!

And what better way to nuture a starving-in-a-bad-mood-and-majorly-PMSing author/wife/stay-at-home mother than with the love of CHOCOLATE!

I grabbed the package, ran into the house, and ripped open the UPS box, thankful the kids were down stairs and would not be witness to my chocolate frenzy. There were four varieties of Tim Tam biscuits from my Ramblin' pal in Australia! The Tim Tam Original, Caramel Tim Tams, the Double-coated Tim Tams, and some Cherry Ripe Chocettes, that I have to admit were so melted that even after I froze them for a while, they came out of the freezer looking quite like something I had hoped would emerge from Lovey's you-know.

I opened the Caramel ones first because I love caramel. I tasted one. I don't know how to describe them accurately to let you know how really, really good they are, but they seriously started my heart racing. I've never done cocaine but I think there's more than just chocolate in there! And hey, isn't cocaine made from the cacao bean or something like that, and doesn't chocolate come from the cacao bean? Hmmm...I might be on to something!

So, while my heart raced, I wolfed down three of those suckers in a matter of a minute. Then the kids came up (I wondered if I was unconsciously moaning in delight and they had heard me, or did they smell the chocolate?) and I had to share.

I.Hate.Sharing.FOOD. With anyone. Ask anyone you know who knows me. If you try to stab a fry from my plate, I will stab you back with my fork. I would kill over that fry. Seriously.

But, being the good mother that I am, I shared. Ajers had found religion after he tried one! In fact, this a.m. he asked me, "Mom, after I eat something healthy, can I have one of those Australian things?" And while he was eating one, he said, "Are these really from Australia because I want more!"

I had some for breakfast today. I had three more tonight. I don't think these are treats you should indulge in with such focus and thought. I am thankful that Tim Tams are across the world because I would be a ... who knows what I would be if I had these suckers available within arm's reach. But hey, these could put an end to PMS across the world! Yes, that is the answer to every woman's PMS problems of the world.


I feel so much better now.

Thank you Ramblin' Rose. And your Reese's package has been ordered as promised. And to all of you who won the chocolate bar of your choice, I'll be sending those out soon. I totally believe in living by the Pay-It-Forward rule of thumb, however, I can pretty much guarantee you they're not going to be as decadent as the Tim Tams, but if you're REALLY dying to try 'em, you can order them in the U.S. here:

Australian Catalogue Company 1-800-808-0938. You can tell them Ramblin' and Manic sent ya, but that won't get you far!

(And no, I'm not getting a kick-back!)

Geeze, isn't the Internet a powerful and wonderful tool?! It may not have gotten me out of a $20,000 debt like it did for my friend, Karyn, but hey, it did bring me some Tim Tams!

xo Manic

Friday, July 28, 2006

And The Winners Are...

So, I designated each contestant a number, then put the numbers in a bag and let the kids choose the winners in order to be completely fair and unbiased. Without further adieu (just like saying that), I'm pleased to announce the winners of the first annual Manic Mom Candy Giveaway:

Monique at Word Well who has requested a Milky Way

Princessr9 would like a Dark Chocolate Milky Way

Jenny at Mama Drama requested a Bar None or a Skor, which I am not sure if these are even around any longer - Jenny, do you have another choice?

Katie-Kat World wants a Milky Way Midnight with Xanax (what's with all these Milky Way products?!)

Bear wants and will get Peanut M&Ms!

And because I had the kids pick the numbers, and I wanted to be fair to my kids, I let them each choose TWO numbers, so this means we have a sixth winner, and that winner is Lori!

Email me your addresses and I'll send you the goods!

Congrats, and I wish I could send everybody some chocolate because chocolate is guaranteed to bring a smile to anyone eating it! If you didn't win, just go out and buy a candy bar and pretend it's from me!

I'm out for the weekend, unless something totally incredible happens. So basically, see ya Monday! Oh wait, there is a neighborhood margarita party tonight....

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Hungover? Who Me?

So, I bet you're thinking, "Oh, poor Manic, she must have been so useless and hungover today with all that wine she drank last night. She must have spent the day in bed, with that dumb dog lying between her legs, and Wizard of Oz on autoplay, and running back and forth to the toilet."

Think again friends!

And move over Melanie Lynne Hauser

Here I am... Super Manic Mom.

(We interrupt this post to tell you to check out Mel's book,
Confessions of Supermom, just released in paperback!)

So, you know how I was talking about my favorite band, Poi Dog Pondering in this post last November? Well, I'm on one of the band's fan's Yahoo groups and there happened to be an impromptu intimate show today being held in Chicago with just four of the band members (there's usually like 10 or 11), sponsored by XRT Radio Chicago and Potbelly's (sandwiches that kick butt!) Fans won tickets by answering a couple questions, but by the time I heard about it, there were no tix left.

So, I got on the Yahoo group and some of the awesome internet people you always talk to but never meet in real life banded together to get Manic Mom a ticket... AND her three kids.

Now, you all know me as a soccerish-type suburban SAHM (even though I hate soccer), but I got brave today and ventured out into the big city and took the kids to the show! It was so cool, held in a Motorola showcase store that used to be a museum near The Magnificent Mile that is the shopping hub of Chicago. And the other Poi fans took me under their wings, helped with the kids, let them go up front, and we listened to some really great music. If you wanna get a sense of what/who they are, check out this site here: Poi Stuff, and listen to some of their songs. They're really cool, and they're performing at
Lollapalooza 2006 next weekend here in Chicago (which, I sadly, will not be attending).

And it was so fun to meet up with some of the guys who are always on the loop chit-chatting about the band. It's a place where "you hear it first!" and I love that about this group of people.

The band is just incredible.

So, the kids got a little tired of it all toward the end (possibly because they stayed up too late last night too!) so I bribed them with the promise of ice cream. We went for ice cream after the show, me feeling all brave in the big, big old city of Chicago, and then, when we were coming out of the ice cream place who do I see walking down the street?

Lead singer Frank and lead female vocals and violinist Susan!

WHOOOOOO HOOOOOO! This is like Jackpot!

I go up to them and they recognized me from the show (really hard to do, only one of like two other moms crazy, brave, psycho enough to bring kids!). I asked if we could get a picture, and I also reintroduced myself to Frank, and he was so cute, he shook my hand and said, "I'm Frank." Like DUH!

So, that was such a highlight, and here's a picture of Frank and Susan, and Ajers, Diva and Tukey. Doesn't it look like they're a little family? Ha.

After ME getting to have some fun, the kids needed a little fun too, so we bravely walked (remember, I'm a chicken in a big city!) to Navy Pier and I let them run around in the fountain with their clothes on. Then we went inside and saw a cool performance of these guys dressed up like pirates and it was like a take on Mama Mia and they were singing all ABBA songs, but changing words like Sailor Queen instead of Dancing Queen.

And then, of course, I wouldn't be SPOIL-MY-KIDS-ROTTEN Mom without just one more treat so they all got Italian Ice and we went to wait in line for the free trolley to take us back to our car.

And we waited.

And it was hot.

And waited.

And sweated.

And waited...

In line for more than an hour. For the free trolley. Now I know why it's the free trolley! I think there's only one in the whole dang city of Chicago.

We got the trolley finally, got back to our car, which interestingly enough, I had parked at the exact same parking garage as the night when this NIGHTMARE happened. You'd think I'd go into a seizure just by the proximity and have a flashback or something. I'm pretty sure the hotel staff got all the vomit cleaned up off that wall by now.

So, car, drive home, rainstorm, traffic, more rain, finally, arrive home at 7 p.m.

There was one good thing when I got home; and one bad thing--

Good thing: I let Evil Doggy Lovey have free reign with limited roaming ability while we were gone, for more than seven hours, and we came home to NO accidents.

Bad thing: My Tim Tams did not arrive today! But that's okay, that gives me tomorrow to look forward to. And besides, seeing as I have not even ordered Ramblin' Rose's Reese's yet (say THAT fast three times), then I shouldn't be complaining that my treat's not here yet!

And tomorrow, check back for the list of you five lucky winners of free chocolate!

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Hump Day

Preface: I'm not corecting any typos and I see i already made one and corrected two that I made but already changes. oops, there's another.

I love nights like these. Like tonight. I was feeling all crappy and moodly )('nother typo) and was all set to hit the sack at like 6 p.m. after watching Jack and Josh, okay 'nother typo, that's supposed to say Drake and Josh, and then we watched Ned's declassified, and then we moved over to Disney and Zach and Cody's Suite Life and then by then, I'd had it. Our neighbor's duaghter, 'nother typo, in fact, I'm awaer or everyone of them, envn those two or three i just made like awaer, opps oops, did it again: aware, oops even. OK. FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS. This is hard.

Anway, Oops, wTf? I cannot do this after friningking. That is supposed to say drinking.

Long story, too long already. Neighbor called us over. SHe's a pharma rep and had a lunch today for doctor's but the docotrs (DOCTORS) dobule (DOUBLE) ordered, so she had all this loeftover (WTF, in my mind I can spell all these words for crying out loud)... all this leftover food so she invited all the negihbors over for dinner. Weel, (WELL!) dinner included wine.

So, you get the picture. Anyway, I love our neighborhood. Therea re down to earth real, real real people pliviging (shit, that spells LIVING!) HERE and I love that about our neighbors. And I drank red wine toinght and we calll (ALL) know what happens when I drink red wine... I GET PREGNANT WITH DAUGHTERS. Fortunately, hubby, who drank some wine too, and then some Crown Roayla (whtaerver--ROYALE) shots, he is passt out so i don't need to worry about making any babies tonight.

So, tahts' it. I just wanted you to get a feel of what it's like around here on a random Wendesday night when i was all set to hit the scak (SHIT that spells sack!) at like 6 pm. and just og o to sleep and wak eup the next day feeling fine. Now I'll wake up awith a hangover probably, but nother's on the sechecudule for tomorrow, and if you're an agent reading this, give me a break because I've bgenn under a lot of stress lately waiting for you to call me to sign me up as a client already! It's stressful!

So, that's it, and I promise, promoise, promise, PROMISE that I will pick the winnders of the candy bar contest tomorrow and announce them by Friday> I was at the store looking at all the fun candy bars today (before I got a buzzon) and there's no chance in hell I'll be finding a Marathon bar for Mr. R. Martini so you just better pick a more realistic candy bar dammit!

That's all folks! hope your hump day was as interesting as mine. Can't wait to read all my tyupos tomorrow, including that one where I spelled tyuops but it should bE TYPOS. I know thtat, what do you take me for, an idiot of some kind?

XO Manic

Hump Day

Preface: I'm not corecting any typos and I see i already made one and corrected two that I made but already changes. oops, there's another.

I love nights like these. Like tonight. I was feeling all crappy and moodly )('nother typo) and was all set to hit the sack at like 6 p.m. after watching Jack and Josh, okay 'nother typo, that's supposed to say Drake and Josh, and then we watched Ned's declassified, and then we moved over to Disney and Zach and Cody's Suite Life and then by then, I'd had it. Our neighbor's duaghter, 'nother typo, in fact, I'm awaer or everyone of them, envn those two or three i just made like awaer, opps oops, did it again: aware, oops even. OK. FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS. This is hard.

Anway, Oops, wTf? I cannot do this after friningking. That is supposed to say drinking.

Long story, too long already. Neighbor called us over. SHe's a pharma rep and had a lunch today for doctor's but the docotrs (DOCTORS) dobule (DOUBLE) ordered, so she had all this loeftover (WTF, in my mind I can spell all these words for crying out loud)... all this leftover food so she invited all the negihbors over for dinner. Weel, (WELL!) dinner included wine.

So, you get the picture. Anyway, I love our neighborhood. Therea re down to earth real, real real people pliviging (shit, that spells LIVING!) HERE and I love that about our neighbors. And I drank red wine toinght and we calll (ALL) know what happens when I drink red wine... I GET PREGNANT WITH DAUGHTERS. Fortunately, hubby, who drank some wine too, and then some Crown Roayla (whtaerver--ROYALE) shots, he is passt out so i don't need to worry about making any babies tonight.

So, tahts' it. I just wanted you to get a feel of what it's like around here on a random Wendesday night when i was all set to hit the scak (SHIT that spells sack!) at like 6 pm. and just og o to sleep and wak eup the next day feeling fine. Now I'll wake up awith a hangover probably, but nother's on the sechecudule for tomorrow, and if you're an agent reading this, give me a break because I've bgenn under a lot of stress lately waiting for you to call me to sign me up as a client already! It's stressful!

So, that's it, and I promise, promoise, promise, PROMISE that I will pick the winnders of the candy bar contest tomorrow and announce them by Friday> I was at the store looking at all the fun candy bars today (before I got a buzzon) and there's no chance in hell I'll be finding a Marathon bar for Mr. R. Martini so you just better pick a more realistic candy bar dammit!

That's all folks! hope your hump day was as interesting as mine. Can't wait to read all my tyupos tomorrow, including that one where I spelled tyuops but it should bE TYPOS. I know thtat, what do you take me for, an idiot of some kind?

XO Manic

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Mish-Mash Gripey Rant Time

Lots of things on my mind, and I think it'll be cleansing to just let 'er rip here on the blog, so if you're not in the mood for a gripe-fest, kindly move along to the next blog. If you are in the mood for a Manic Mish-Mash Gripe Fest, continue on:

The Dog.
And yeah, I know my mom is gonna read this and she's gonna need a refill on the Xanax, but really mom, it's okay. I love you and dad, hence I have to love the dog.

Dog's name is Lovey.

It's a Jack Russell Terrier.

It's not nearly as bad as the usual JRTs are, as Andie mentioned in a previous comment post, but confession time here:

I Cannot Handle Dogs.

Give me three kids ages three and under, and I'm Wonder Mom. Give me a dog to pet-sit for nine days, and I cannot do it. The thing is, the dog will not poop for me, and I've spent the better part of let's say, five or six hours combined time trying to coax a turd outta the sucker.

Yes, it has shat a few times, for the kids, and Tukey will come runnin' in the house with a grocery bag haphazardly filled with the crap, cheering that the dog went.

Today, apparently Diva took it out and it went green diarhea (spelling wrong, oh well).

It climbs in my bed and hovers under the covers between my legs, and here I am thinking I'm getting lucky but nooooo, it's Lovey, searching for a warm place to lay its head, which just happens to be right in between my legs under the covers.

Then it'll jump out and hours later she will catapult her 19-pound body onto my bed and chest, scaring the sleeping crap out of me, and start licking my face. Dog breath is not my favorite scent.

But overall, she's okay, she's good with the kids, but she HATES any other dog she comes across, and if you live in my 'hood, there's one or two per household so she's running into a lot of pups these days.

The reassuring thing about watching Lovey. My parents know she's 'kinda' being cared for, and I know it's a great favor to my mom and dad and they totally appreciate everything I'm doing for them. That's why they're making a special trip out here the week after Labor Day to watch the kids so Hubby and I can get away for a few days.

So, I'll suck it up and keep feeding, walking, rubbing, coaxing Lovey until my parents come back for her.

Mom and Dad--COME BAAAACK!

End of rant one.

Second Rant:

I have an addiction. Yes, besides this blog! Books and bookstores. I'm going to start a list of all the books I have purchased but have yet read, and I will post it on my main web site, which I am not sure too many of you know it. So, this addiction lends itself to my depression, cuz I'll go to the bookstores, and salivate over all the books I want, touch the covers, feel the insides, read the acknowledgment page and the "about the author" page, scrutinize the author pic, wonder if she (or he, on rare occasion) had the photo professional done, and wonder, "WHY CAN'T THAT BE ME?"

I think I'm working hard to get my novel published. I wrote it. Doesn't that count for something? (No answer required there.) I have sent it out, agents are looking at it. I am thrilled when I don't get my SASE returned in the mail daily, but I am bummed out that I cannot do more to get to the place I wanna be. An Author. It is frustrating as all hell.

I bought Stephanie Klein's Straight Up And Dirty today. And did you hear she is pregnant with twins? I'd post the link but am too lazy. If you don't know who she is, just google and her blog, Greek Tragedy will come up. I used to be angry at her because she seemed so self-involved, but hey, it got her to where she wanted to be: Blog/Author Stardom.

I need to read a ton of books I've purchased, here are a few recent ones:
The Truth About Forever
Secret Society Girl (GO DIANA!)
God-Shaped Hole
Straight Up and Dirty
Eye Contact
Dirty Little Pretty
Come Closer
Baby Trail
Orange something or the other... Oh yeah, Blood Orange (that's been on my floor for a while)

These are the ones that just come to mind quickly. And if I look at my bookshelf, I've got to read:
Running With Scissors
Carrie Pilby
Disturbing the Peace
The Dive From Clausens Pier
Adultery for Beginners
She, Myself and I
Yoga Mamas
The Living Bible (haven't gotten quite through that one yet, but it's on the shelf)
The Matter of Grace

And these are just the books from the first shelf!

Down one more shelf and I find I need to read:
My Life on a Plate
Girl, Interrupted
Gap Creek (which I am most likely never going to read, just because)
The Room Lit By Roses
Mapping the Edge
Having it and Eating It
Story of O (will never finish; just made me run for my night-stand drawer)
The Virgin Suicides
Blue Shoe
American Idle
Lost in the Forest
Escaping into the Open (A writers' novel I should read!)
Me and Emma
Devil Wears Prada (only got to page 56 and now I've seen the movie, so why bother. Note: Diva calls it Devil Wears Products!)

Oh funny, next shelf, first book I need to read also has Devil in the title:
Devil is in the Details
The Naked Truth
The Tenth Circle
Dating Dead Men (I probably won't read this one; got it free at a conference. If I'm not reading the books I WANT to read, then why bother with this one, but I'm sure it's a very nice book).

Next shelf is pretty well repped here with books I've read like Jen Weiner's stuff, but I have not read these:
What Are You Looking At?
Couldn't Keep It To Myself (the Wally Lamb Let's-Have-Inmates-Write-A-Bestseller, which PISSED ME OFF! Cuz, why should inmates get the honor of writing with, and learning from Wally Lamb?)
Getting Over Jack Wagner
Nine And A Half Weeks (Again, saw the movie, but I did buy the book on a sale rack)
Back Pack
White Bikini Panties

Next freaking shelf:
The Art Of Mending
Bird by Bird (again, two birds... two birds in the hand... do what?--This is one I should read to get me outta the funk I'm in)
Second Helpings (I LOVE Megan McCafferty, but haven't gotten to her sequel to Sloppy Firsts, and therefore have resisted purchasing Charmed Thirds)
Riding The Bus with my Sister
Crooked Little Heart
Sam's Letters to Jennifer
The Glass Castle
Slave to Fashion
Scar Tissue

Okay, as I'm sure you are, I'm over it too. There's another whole shelf but I don't feel like doing this anymore. Maybe it's therapeutic for me though. It sickens me to think of the money I spent on these books and I haven't even read them, but I love the fact that they are here in my office, surrounding me, giving me hope that someday I might do what these authors have done.

Lastly, Diva and I were getting ready for bed, and she asked me:

"Mom, how old were you when you had surgery to make your boobs bigger?"

How sad that she lives in a world where she thinks that is the norm, and she's seven for Crying Out Loud!

"Hey baby, this is all me sweety cakes! All me!"

Peace out. Yo Dog. Hey, this pun is intended: This post might be boring to you all, but it felt really good to get it all off my chest!

Candy bars tomorrow!

xo Manic's really manic tonight!

Monday, July 24, 2006

Manic Candy Giveaway


Preface: You might want to read the previous posts if you haven't kept up to date with this blog because we're talking chocolate, mood swings and PMS here. And men readers, you count too so go ahead and keep reading!

Candy from a stranger? Here's what I'm going to do to prove Ramblin' Rose that I'm legit and will not lace her Reese's with Xanax (because we all know how I can't part with those suckers!).

In honor of all this chocolate PMS talk, I'm going to have a Manic Candy Giveaway. And this is open to all readers, regardless of sex, severity of PMS, chocolate allergies, etc.

Leave a comment telling me your favorite candy bar. From all the entries, I will randomly choose five and will send you the candy bar of your choice. You'll have to give me your address though, or maybe if you don't trust me, you can open a PO Box in order to get your candy!

When you receive the goods, simply let me know what kind of condition your chocolate arrived -- melted, smushed, perfect, crumbled, soggy... did you share it with anyone? Did you freeze it before you ate it? Did you toss it out? If you have a blog, you can share this info with your readers, and if I get a lot of comments, I might up the anty a little.

If I were playing, I would choose the ever-lovin' Zero bar (very hard to find) with it's white chocolate coating, and fudgy nutty inside, or a Heath Toffee or a Twix. I'm big on chocolate, crunch (but not necessarily peanut-crunch), and caramel.

Soooo... bring on the chocolate bars baby! What do you want me to send to you?

Sunday, July 23, 2006

Would You Take Candy from a Stranger?

...How 'bout from Manic?

Seems Ramblin' Rose is a little iffy about a little internet-cyberspace candy trade we have been discussing.

And now that she posted the link to those damn Tam Tams
or whatever the hell they're called, I REALLY want some of the chewy chocolate caramel ones. Or, the new product they've got called Tim Tam Balls. Oooh, yum.

Anyway, please leave a comment on why Ramblin Rose should not fear a delivery from Manic. I'm safe, I'm harmless, I'm just a friendly maniacal mother looking to taste some Tim Tam balls and whatnot. I'm PMSing for cryin' out loud!

On another PMSy note, there's a place called Cookie Dough Creations that is a cure-all for any PMS woes. We went there tonight. This is what you can get: A BOWL of raw cookie dough (without eggs). You can choose from brown sugar, chocolate chip, brownie fudge, M&M, Cake batter, Oreo, Peanut butter, turtle fudge. You get a HUGE bowl and can have as many flavors as you want in one bowl for three bucks.

This is heaven for a girl with PMS. And there's a ton left over just freezing away in the freezer, calling out to me... come eat me... oh my chocolate chips are oh so lonely, come just have one taste...

I think I'm being beckoned...

Saturday, July 22, 2006

If Money Wasn't An Issue

These are the things I would do:

Deliver these to Ramblin' Rose because she is cool and she lives in a very cool place.

This is the only frivilous item I would buy for myself: a big-ass pair of these.

Get a personal chef to prepare me all my meals, and my family's meals too. Make sure this chef keeps me healthy. Also make sure this chef is hot, and enjoys prepping food shirtless. I'll make the lemonade in case he gets too hot.

Hire a personal trainer to make me work out. Ditto above.

Hire a personal shopper, but not for unnecessary items--just to help me find clothes that will look good, and make me feel comfortable. This personal shopper must be like friend-material, someone with fashion flair but not snobby, someone who will drink margaritas with me after we shop.

Buy books (oh wait, I spend money on these all the time!).

I would not seek out a plastic surgeon to fix my eyes, my butt, my gut, my boobs, my spider veins, however, I MIGHT consider laser to get rid of 'unwanted' hair.

I would also get a microdermabrasion treatment to make my skin smooth.

Oh, and weekly pedicures cuz me feet are horribly yucky.

Monthly massages. Yes, monthly, not weekly. This way it will still be a treat and I won't be like, "Oh geeze, it's Friday again. Must go to the masseuse." See above chef and trainer notes regarding masseuse as well.

Take my children to cultural exhibits more often. More on this later but we went to see Seussical the Musical Friday, and then Saturday, Diva and I went to the ballet. Manic gets Culture!

Would not need a new house, but will do some updates like blow out our laundry room so we have more room, so the maid who will come only once a week will have enough room to do the laundry comfortably.

Get a new bed, will 1,000 thread-count sheets. Oh, and new plush comfy pillows, and a comforter I could sink into with luxury.

Add a sunroom to our family room.

OK, I guess this list is getting a little bit frivolous. Sidenote: I just got the dictionary out to find out how frivolous is spelled, and by chance, I happened upon this word and its definition:

four-letter word: any of several short words having to do with sex or excrement and generally regarded as offensive or objectionable.

This confuses me. Does this mean that KITE or BELL or KISS would not be categorized as a 'four-letter word?' Or that damnit or p*$$y is NOT considered a four-letter word because these words have more than four letters?

OK, see where my mind is? It's all over the place, but I thought I'd share some of my "What If I Had All The Money In The World" wants with you.

What are the top five things you would do or buy if money wasn't an issue?

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy!

Okay, I think I'm in a good mood today. And it's raining and thunderstorming. Go figure. That PMS monster is a little devil bitch, ain't she?

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

Today's Feelings--


Bummed Out
Bad Mood
Wanting a nap
Wanting it to rain to match my mood
Not hungry but wanting to eat
Eye-brow raising "What-should-I-do?"

Sitting here not knowing what to say, but feeling like I should say something so there's something to read. Ya know?

Me neither.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Belly Love Because Of Babies

Amazing site. Let me know what you think after you check it out. And guess which one is me...

The Shape of a Mother

Lots Of Stuff and then Some More Stuff

Preface to this post: This was written Sunday night, and on my Neo Alphasmart, so there are a ton of typos, which I could correct, but then the kids would miss swim class. So, deal with the typos please. I know they are all there, and if you're an agent reading this, please know I don't have any typos in the manuscript you are about to request, in full, and then offer me representation because you think I'm so clever, smart and funny, you've just got to have my book to sell! That is all to this preface...

So, I've decided to do some blogging from the bed. Spending too much time in one place gets old. Hubby is lying here and in between typing, I'm watching Forrest Gump. As soon as I came to bed and saw it on, I was like, "Oh no." Because if there's osmething I want to do in bed (get rid of those dirty thoughts!) like read or write, ther'll be a good show on that'll distract me.

Oh good, Forrest just stop running, after all, it had been over three years, two months. Phew, TV off.

Anywho (I just stole that cute word from Karyn), I think I'll update you on the weekend.

I saw THREE movies this weekend.

Friday: Nacho Libre. Wasn't expecting much, but figured it's Jack Black and he's good for a laugh or two. Funny, funny, funny! And with a thought-provoking message too.

Saturday: Devil Wears Prada, ALONE! I used to feel sorry for people who went to the movies alone, because i thought they didn't have any friends or were maybe a widow, or a weirdo and no one wanted to go to the movies with them. I don't think that anymore. I am confident, I am self-sufficient, I LOVE going to the movies by myself! Good movie; never did finish the book. Would love to know how much of Lauren Weisberger's life was really like the character in the book.

Sunday: RV. Cute, went with the kids, hub and g'ma and g'pa. All agreed it was a good movie.

If you see from my last post, it was so hot here this weekend, you could fry an egg on the sidewalk! I mean it was bone-sweltering, skin-curdling can't-stand-in-the-shade and not feel the sweat trickle down from underneath your bra. Yuck heat. It was the kind of hot where you go outside and IMMEDIATELY you feel like normal breathing patterns subside, and it takes extra effort to even breathe right. And I went walking in this heat Saturday and Sunday.

OK, this post is totally boring me, so I'm not sure this posting in bed thing is gonna work. And speaking of bed.

Well, this a.m. when I got up, Ajers and hubby were downstairs, and hubby looks at me all lovey-dovey and comes over and kisses me all really nice. Then he says, "I am so lucky."

I was like "What? Why?" I'm thinking he won something or something.

He goes, "Because look at you. You're so beautiful."

OKay, I am totally rolled-outta-bed scummy. Like yuck scummy, glases on, teeth-not-brushed, hair-a-mess, not cute, wouldn't-answer-the-front-door looking like this not-cute.

But he thinks I'm beautiful because he got some nookie!

And if he would act like this lovey-dovey all the time, maybe I should give it up more than just once a month!

And well, I gotta admit, it was one of those times where my mind and body were in the right place at the right time, yanno. (Oops stole THAT word from Miss Snark. I am a Thief of Words today!)

And, uh, we almost got caught by Tukey, who came knocking on the door. That was the first really close call we've had. I can't imagine walking in on your parents. (Not YOUR parents, just generally speaking, although I can't imagine walking in on your parents either, I guess now that I think about it. Have you? Did you? Have you ever been walked in on? Tell me about it! I love a good story. I tell you guys stories all the time!

So, I've been meaning to write an essay titled:
Why I Will Never Use Nair Bikini Cream Remover Ever Again.

This is why:
So, a few weeks ago, you may recall I was getting ready for our beach trip to Georgia. And five weeks prior to that, I was getting ready for our beach trip to Florida, and had gone for a bikini wax. (And before all you men get all excited, I get like the wimp bikini waxes so calm yourselves down! LOL).

So, this beach trip time around, I didn't really NEED a trip to la waxera (like my attempt at Spanish?), so I thought maybe a little bit of Nair would do the minimal trick that I needed to get me through this beach trip.

So, I read the directions, seems easy enough. I've done Nair on my legs long time before. Not a problem.

Slather it on pretty accurately, I gotta say, and then I wait the 3-5 minutes. Directions strongly recommend not leaving it on longer than 10.

Fine. 3-5 minutes are up, and I wipe the stuff off. Things look really fairly good. Like I said, since I had previously waxed, there wasn't much there in the first place.

Everything looked good, things went fine.

Until the next day.

When I began to itch like a camper stuck in a field of poison ivy. And it was burning. And you know how the sides of your undies are elastic and are right at that crease between your thigh and where the wonder starts? Well, it hurt to have my underwear rubbing up against something that was already itchy and burning.

It felt like angry red firey ants were marching up along the crease of my underwear and then marching back down dragging little twigs or dead insects like they do when they are foraging. It itched like hell, like a case of poison ivy on a crab victim. Owwwww.

So, I dealt with it. Somehow. And here it is a couple weeks later, and I'm home and I am checking out the area, which is thankfully no longer itching, and I notice all these red prickly little bumps, and ingrown hairs where the skin has grown above them, and so what do I do?

I tweeze. Like a maniac. Because I don't want ingrown hairs, and I want to fix this mess that I've created in the Netherlands. And what does this accomplish?

Now it looks as if I had a case of the chicken pox but only along the outter edges of my underwaear because I've tweezed so much,and pulled any lone hair that I can until I've bled and the bumps are now teeny scabs that need to heal in order to have my skin look normal. But, when the scabs heal themselves up, they just cover the hairs that are trying to grow back, and the vicious cycle continues.

i don't know what to do, because now I'm practically guaranteeing ingrown hairs and scabby bumps for a very looonnnng time. Right? Any suggestions, other than laser procedures to remove the hair forever, because I have thought of that, but it's too much money.

Thank God I'm not a bathing suit model or I'd be out of work for sure.

Anyway, tell your friends, your family, your sisters, your... well, not your brothers... but tell everyone you care about who you would not want this to happen to them to Ban Nair Bikini Wax.

This has been a public service announcement from Manic Mom because she really does care about your bikini area.

Couple more things and then I'll leave you alone to enjoy your glorious Monday morning:

High School Musical will be on Disney Channel tonight, MONDAY, so if you've heard the hype, and been wanting to see it, watch it with or without your kids tonight. It's an encore presentation where there's going to be a lot of behind the scenes stuff. I plan to be snuggled up with Tukey, Diva, and Ajers in my room getting my head in the game for shiggity folks!

Soaring! Flying! There's not a star in heaven that we can't reach.

Shut the hell up Manic (I took the words right out of your mouth didn't I?)

Books--Got a couple new reads this weekend:

Come Closer, which was recommended by the famed and spectacular former blogstess (Did I just create a new word) of Conversations About Famous People, who has been blogging about famous writers over at Conversations With Famous Writers. Check out her archives, leave her a comment and tell her Manic sent you.

Anyway, this book, Come Closer sounds petrifying, along the lines of Exorcist, The Entity, Amityville Horror. I am afraid to read it at night. Really. And when I was at the bookstore, the guy said they had two copies, but none of us could locate the book, so I'm at the store, thinking, "OK, this is a sign. This book is a devil book and I'm not supposed to buy it because it's Satanic." But then the guy found it and he searched so hard for it, I couldn't just say, "Changed my mind." OK, freaking myself out now for real. I just keep expecting the book to levitate from where I put it or something equally creepy.

Then I got thsi book, Eye Contact by Cammie McGovern, which is about, well, pop on over to Amazon to read what it's about. But hey, I am picking up some pretty creepy books these days.

And you can bet your sweet applesauce that I am hitting B&N tomorrow, Tuesday, for
Diana's debut, Secret Society Girl. I have been trying to figure out special ways to get a bookseller to sell it to me early, like giving the secret society girl handshake, reciting the secret society girl mantra, even offering them the secret society girl's secret recipe for pomagrante martinis, but no one will go to the back of the store and rip open the damned box marked: Best Seller Secret Society Girl By The Spetacular Diana Peterfreund so I guess I'm going to have to hop on over to B&N tomorrow to fight the crowds for it. Let me assure you, this book had HOT written all over it before even the author knew how it was going to end. You have to get it, you have to read it!

And, on that note, I'm signing off to finish
Save Karyn, one of the greatest, most fun memoirs I have ever read. I'm telling you, what a marketing amazement this girl is. She took an idea and ran with it! All the way to the bank, and away from her credit debt! You go Karyn!

Don't forget to tune in to Gabriella and Troy, and watch Sharpey and Ryan act like goofballs in High School Musical tonight!

Cheers from Manic, who's theme song for today is:
Just Another Xanax Monday!

Peace Out!

Sunday, July 16, 2006

It Really Is True!

Ajers and I did an experiment today, to see if it was really hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk here in Chicago. And you know what? It was!



Saturday, July 15, 2006

Why Manic Mom?

So, Ajers and I are sitting in my office and he sees me checking out the usual blogs. Then he asks, "Why Manic Mom?"

I try to explain to him that it's just a play on words, and kind of like trademarking myself, stuff he doesn't understand and I'm sure it's going in one ear and sounding a lot like the teachers from Peanuts cartoons.

Then he says, "Why didn't you just call yourself WW for Wild Woman?"

This, from my eight-year old.

Friday, July 14, 2006

My Ashton / Demi Sex Dream

So, last night I had a very interesting dream. And let me preface this by saying I do not in real life dream about Ashton like an eighth grader looking to get felt up for the first time. I do think he's pretty hot though, and would never turn him down if the real opportunity presented itself. That said, on to my dream!

It turns out, Swishy is the sister to Ashton Kutcher and since I am like very best friends with Swishy (in real life, not just in my dream!), well, I was over at her house, and big brother Ashton and one of his pals were there too.

Ashton was HOT! I had never met him before. I never even knew Swishy was keeping this huge celebrity brother secret from me! But I couldn’t be mad at her because I was too busy flirting heavily with Ashton.

He was married to Demi (still, damnit) but I wasn’t about to let that get in the way. Somehow, I began playing footsies with him, and man, did he have big feet, which just turned me on some more. I had to have some of me some Ashton, and I figured, if I didn’t get me some now, when Demi wasn’t there, I ain’t never gonna get me a taste of Ashton Luuuuv.

So, I went for it, and apparently, he’s not all that faithful to Demi (please, remember, this is a dream so this isn’t like slander or anything, and Demi, don’t go calling all your lawyers on me).

So, Ashton and I were snuggled way back in the corner of Swish’s and Ashton’s parent’s house, who were probably conveniently skiing in the Alps or something, cuz we had the house ALL to ourselves, and why the heck were Ashton and I squished up in a corner behind a couch… ahhh… GUILT! He was feeling guilty…

But, dangit, he was feeling gooooood. And the feet thing was true in Ashton’s case, but it was quick, like one of those quicks where if you were a virgin you could convince yourself “Ah, we didn’t really do it.” In-out-in-out-inateenytinylittlebitmoreandthenback---OUT!

So, sex with Ashton wasn’t all that great, but still, it was great because MAN, he is a celebrity, and I think he’s probably really tall in real life, and I dig tall guys in real life, and man, I just bagged Ashton Kucher and shit! Demi is his WIFE for cryin’ out loud! Demi is Swishy’s sister-in-law!

Would Swish be faithful to her very best pal and brother and keep the secret, or would she be faithful to Demi? Cuz Demi sure has a whole helluva lotta money and I’d want Demi on my side.

So, after basking in the afterglow for like, two-point-two halves of a second, we arrange ourselves and are just hanging out a little, but I still want me some Ashton Luuuuv, so I’m totally trying to make the moves on him, playing all footsies, and eyeing him in all the right places, and probably, (I don’t remember this for sure) but probably I was trying to rub on him a little more, to you know, get the Ashton Juices all fired up.

Anyway, who shows up? Cripes! It’s Demi! And she’s looking pretty good from afar, but up close, I’m like, hmmm, her skin’s getting a little saggy, and those creases under her eyes do not look good. Dr. Ray, 90210, better call Demi!

So, I am introduced to Demi, Ashton goes to play XBOX with one of the guys from That ‘70s Show, and it’s just me and Demi. Swish, where the hell did you disappear to?

And, here’s me, I forget to get dressed after the Ashton Luuuuv, and what am I wearing? The red bra I was talking about the other day, and a pair of…

A pair of…


Spongbob Squarepants Undies.

(The undies don't show up on this link, so if you really wanna see what they look like, you have to search women's undies, Spongebob, but hey, all you guy readers, if you were gonna do a search on women's undies you'd probably be over at Vick's Secret instead of here.

These particular spongebobsquarepantsundies in real life belong my daughter Diva. How the hell did they end up in my dream and on my ass?!?!

So, I’m trying to be all casual with Demi, because this is the first time we’ve met and I just scored with her hot hubby, and he left to go play XBOX, and where the hell is Swishy when I need her?

“So Demi, when People magazine comes out, do Rumer and the other girls rip through it searching for pictures of themselves?”

She actually laughed! Then we started chatting it up like we were the best of friends, and I don’t think I was feeling too terrible about bagging Ashton because it was so worth it to put in my Life-File-Of-Accomplishments that I didn’t even care if her feelings got hurt.

But then she and I were like best friends, and she’s telling me how much she likes me and admires me, and how she says I’m so self-assured and confident, and she keeps saying all these great and nice things to me.

And I’m smiling, and nodding, and still wearing the Spongebob undies, which she never even comments on, and now that I think about it, I think I had on Ashton’s underwear OVER the Spongebob underwear, which weren’t anything sexy at all, they were like dingy, grungy, (not like in a dirty underwear way, but in a you’ve-owned-these-underwear-forever way) formerly whitie-tighties and why does Ashton Kucher wear unsexy underwear? And how come Demi doesn’t noticed I’m also wearing her hubby’s underwear?

But, I guess I didn’t care, cuz I bagged me a hottie and Demi liked me!

It was all good, even if the sex was mediocore, because IT WAS ASHTON!


Thursday, July 13, 2006

100 Things Continued

Thanks to Hotwire for reminding me to continue my list of 100. It's on the sidebar to your right, or if you're stuck inside the computer screen looking out, it will be on your left.

Have you started musing about yourself yet? If so, please send me the link so I can learn about you.

Poolside Guilt & Dryer Rambling

So, it’s a lazy, lazy day here in my life, and I have to admit, as I’m sitting by the pool watching the lifeguards making sure my children don’t drown, I’m feeling some summer guilt.

I feel guilty because I know Hubby is working his tail off in the city today, as he does every single day, getting up at 5 a.m. while I snuggle deeper under the covers and mumble about the alarm clock being so damn loud. Then, I fall back asleep until one of the darlings get hungry enough to come find me buried under the covers and sixteen pillows to ask for me to pour them a bowl of cereal.

I feel guilty that I don’t have to get up and go to a job; that I don’t have to provide for our family; that my only responsibility today is to take the kids to swim lessons and to keep them safe and happy, to make sure they are having the greatest summer ever. I feel guilty that I can sit here and type this as I enjoy the cool breeze under this canopy and if I choose to, I can get up and hop into the pool, or ask my kiddies to come spray my feet with some water. I feel guilty that I should be doing something productive, like cleaning out closets, or doing laundry (story on that later in this post), or planning meals for the week, defrosting meats, and stirring pots full of sauce, putting fresh ingredients into casserole dishes in order to freeze them so my family can have some healthy meals.

I feel guilty that I’m sitting here laughing my ass off at Karyn’s book, Save Karyn, and I feel lucky though to be reading it, and it is cracking me up and I so want to call her up and say, “Let’s be friends because you seem so cool!” and even though I never knew about her when she was cyber-panhandling for money, I would have surely sent her twenty bucks just because she seems like such a nice person, and so far, in reading her story, I can totally see how she got sucked into debt being a new resident of NYC. But, maybe she didn’t need those new sandals and that cute coral top. I can’t wait to find out what happens between her and Brad, Potentially Gay Brad, as she calls him.

And I feel guilty that I can sit here and write my new novel that is swirling around in my head, tentatively titled, STUCK, about a high school senior who is having trouble in his relationship. Yep, a YA. I have been reading quite a few Young Adult novels lately, including the incredible, incredible novels by Ellen Hopkins,

Crank, and Burned. If you’re looking for some thought-provoking reading, definitely check these two out.

I am feeling guilty that first thing in the morning, I want to run over to my computer, to see if anybody has read/commented on MM. I feel guilty that I want to tell my cyber friends all about my life when my husband doesn’t even know I’m working on my next novel, and it’s not that he wouldn’t care. He would. He is extremely supportive of this quest of mine to become a published author, and I think though, deep down he would like it to happen already so we can get this part over with.

I have spent the last four years and two months off and on, admittedly more off than on as I was busy raising the squirts, but that was/is my priority – my babies. And now that my book-baby has been rewritten, revised, edited, cut-to-shreds, I have sent it out there in the great big world, and now it’s like that poem: If you love something, set it free, if a rejection comes back, send it back out to find someone who will love it just as much as I have grown to love the words from my novel.

And as much as I have researched, and as much as I know about the publishing industry, and as much as I’ve heard that many people who break into publishing don’t do it with their first manuscript, I just so don’t want to fall into that category. For me, I love my first book. I may tire of it someday, but it is still my first, just like a first love, or your first child, or your first marriage (ha, just trying to be funny here!), it is something to be especially cherished, and one day, I might look back at it, and go, “Oh my gosh, I did not write this pile of crap,” for now, it is my pile of crap that I want to send out into the world. I hope I have set it free into the right hands of someone who will be just as passionate about it as I am.

So, enough of the soapbox, and speaking of soap, let’s talk laundry. I should be feeling extremely guilty about the fact that I’m pooling it today and dirty laundry sits piled high in every room in our house, but there’s a glitch in the laundry plans in our home.

The freaking dryer is having a funeral.

It has died. No more heat, baby. A cold dryer is like a warm freezer. Ha. Nice thought there. It ain’t workin’. And while I have been secretly kicking it and its companion, the washing machine for the past year, in hopes it would have a quiet serene death, now that it’s gone I’m kinda sad. Sad, on the one hand because we just spent a ton of money on vacation, and I know we don’t have the funds to buy a new dryer, which, of course, would involve buying the matching washer, because that would be like tearing a hole in the sole of one shoe and only going out and buying one replacement shoe. Just not an option. And, I think the best washer/dryer options out there these days are the front loaders, and our teeny-tiny laundry room is so small it will not accommodate the new versions of the front loaders. So, in order to get front loaders, we would need to expand the laundry room, which we have gotten quotes for, but right now, it’s not in the budget. I suppose I can always wash my clothes at home and take the wet slop over to the local Dry-N-Drink to get the job done.

Anyway, kids are actually tired of the pool. We’ve been here since 11:30 and it’s now quarter to four. It’s time to go home and attempt my wifely motherly duties.

Thanks for listening to my guilty confessions. I know I sound whiny, but I’m feeling kinda whiny. Sorry.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Bad News / Good News

Well, today I wanted to get to the city to meet this wonderful author and down-and-out cool chick, but alas, a little snag in the plan, namely three little snags -- Ajers, Diva and Tukey prevented me from glamming it all up, hopping on a train to head to the city where I would fake being a cool free and easy chick about town, stopping for a latte before I went to a hip book signing where I would not only get to meet Karyn, but hopefully also Oprah, Mayor Daley and Michael Jordan.

Oh, and lest we forget the ever-famous Nukes, pictured here, who was sculpted into a very important character in Twenty Times A Lady.

Dragging myself out of bed, depressed at the thought of frozen waffles (two kids preferring butter and syrup/one has to have choc chips melted onto hers) and a swim lesson that's so short, the kids barely get wet before the whistle is blown for class to be over, I started my day in a backward slump.

But alas! Not is all lost! Our mail arrived early, and I received a gift from Karyn! If you are a regular reader, you know that I hold the award for the first ever winner of Karyn's Love, Sex and the Ex (read my story here), and boy oh boy, that prestigious award is going onto my dossier you can bet your ass!

Because I had already won an Advanced Reader Copy (known in the industry as the ever-coveted ARC), of the prize, Twenty Times a Lady, Karyn offered to send me her first book, Save Karyn, One Shopaholic's Journey to Debt and Back.

I have to tell you, I had heard Karyn's story many times prior to her writing Save Karyn, and saw the book at Target every time I went to the book section to drool and wish I had enough money in the world to buy every single book there. I don't know what stopped me from shelling out the $13.95 for the book a long time ago.

Maybe I was expecting fate. Perhaps deep down, I knew that Karyn's and my path would cross someday, and that we would fast become friends. We have so much in common! She is a young, hottie traipsing it up in NYC, debt-free and living the fast lane with friends, and book tours, and novels being published left and right, and I... well, I am a stay-at-home-wanna-be-a-published-author-so-bad-I-can-taste-it-more-than-the-fraps-I-slug-down-mom-who-blogs-alot.

See, we were destined for friendship!

And Karyn was so great to sign the inside of my newly coveted book, which I am especially thankful I didn't pop open that Sarah Dessen novel I was going to start because, and all apologies to you Sarah--I love your novels, and plan to read every single one of them--but Karyn's Save Karyn comes first.

Here's what Karyn wrote:

Manic (well, she wrote my real name, not my Blog name, and I think you all already know my real name, so why should I pretend you don't),

You are amazing, funny, talented and BEAUTIFUL! (yes! She wrote beautiful in all caps--I am gushing here totally!) Please enjoy this cautionary tale!
Karyn Bosnak

P.S. Stay gold. (At least I think it says Stay gold. It might say "Stay yold," but I don't really know what "Stay yold" means. Actually, I don't really know what "Stay gold" means either, but if it's coming from Karyn, I'm going to assume it means stay.... hmmm... actually I have no idea. I would like to think she thinks I'm as cool as gold, or as bright as gold, or as classy as gold (ha, now that's a laugh, me classy, especially after our vacation extravaganza). None the less, I'm going to take it to be complimentary and am so happy, happy, happy right now.

Thanks so much Karyn! I am cherishing this gift from you! You rock!

P.S. Stay Platinum baby! (Am I on the right track here?)

Tukey Talk

This morning:

I make my way down stairs at the wee hour of nine-something-or-the-other a.m. and Tukey is at the bottom and when he sees me, he rushes up to meet me, arms open wide.

We hug.

Tukey: How much do you love me?

Me: Around the world 20 million times and also around the stars, the moon, the sun, and all the planets 20 million times.

Tukey, eyes wide: So, you love me Googleplex?

Me: I love you Googleplex times 20 million.

More hugs.

Tukey: Okay, can we be done now?

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Families Gone Wild Meets Jerry Springer Meets Family-Style Spring Break AKA Our Family Vacation

So, this post has just been written, and I haven't even edited/read through it for errors, etc. So you're getting the raw, pure stuff here folks (pretty tame if you're looking for really, raw stuff! Go crack an egg or something).

Will embellish and add photos later.
Manic XO

So, how ironic is it that I am sitting in the lobby of the hotel where my wedding reception was held over 13 years ago, and I'm watching a catering manager speak with a couple planning their wedding. Why am I here? Because I just dropped the kids off at Summer Bible Camp at church and was in search of a quiet place to recap the vacation extravaganza. Rather than going to Starbucks (sidenote: have not had a nonfatsugarfreeanythinglatte since before vacation, and i think I don't really need or desire one--we'll see what this week brings though), or a Panera, where I would inevitably eat a sourdough bowl filled with onion soup, adding to the pounds I have acquired over the vacation extravaganza, I have chosen to sit in this lobby.

Lobbies seem like a really cool place to write. How come writers have never suggested the hotellobby as a place to write? It's quiet, it's interesting, there are a variety of people to look at, to eavesdrop upon, and hey, if you're that type of person, well, then, you could give that lone traveler a look, a nod, and follow him right up into the elevator for some afternoon delight.

I'm not that type of person, but hey, I would like to write about 'that' type of person.

Anyway, I have finally started on the mound of laundry and plan to be completely back to normal by next monday. Vacationing is a very hard thing to do. Really. But I have to say, this trip was by far the most fun family vacationwe've ever had.

It started out with a 15 hour drive to Georgia, and we were accompanied by our great friends, who I guess I should nickname here... How about The Coach, CW (Coach's wife) and Kids 1, 2 and 3.

So, CW and I decide after the first leg of the 4 a.m. trip, that we would switch minivans and the boys could all go in one car, and the girls would follow in the other. I'd say about 45 minutes into this part of the trip, we watch as my hubby in the front seat of Coach's car, reaches into the back to get something for a kid, and Coach swerves, and next thing you know, they're moving to the side of the road with the hazards on. Now, CW and I are going, "That didn't take long." Because as all women know, there's no way a man can drive and a man can co-pilot a car-full of kids. There are just too many demands.

So, we pull over at the next exit, and hubby gets out of the car and his forehead is bleeding, and he tells me that Tukey is puking and CW and I are just trying so hard not to laugh because it is just typical for something chaotic to occur when a woman is not present.

Apparently, while hubby was reaching in the back of the car for peanuts for Coach, Coach swerved, thus hitting hubby on his forehead with his sunglasses, causing some blood and a small wound, which therefore caused Tukey to puke at the sight of blood. I think I've mentioned here before about how much Tukey hates blood. Thank God he's a boy and will never get his period.

So, that was just like 4 hours into our journey. I won't bore you with the other details, but we got to our first night's destination, and grabbed some beers and hung out poolside at the hotel. I had five beers. Let me tell you, the last time I drank five beers I was probably ...well, never mind what I was probably doing, but let's just say, I don't drink beer anymore, but wow, I did not have a hangover. That might be my problem. I need to stick to the simple stuff, like beer, which is probably what my brother should do, as you'll see when I detail the 'Bachelor' party later in this post.

Next day, we get to our destination, beautiful Tybee Island, Georgia, and upon arrival to our resort, CW and I were looking at each other and thinking, "This does not look good." The place just looked a little run down on the outside, but when we got into our room, WHOA! Georgeous, three bed-room, three bath, we-just-walked-into-a-Real-World-episode house. Accommodations, A+.

$350 later, and three hours at the island Publix where we stock up on food for the week, we come back to find hubby and Coach loaded already, kids happily swimming in the pool. The set up was perfect--there was a Cabana Grill, and right off the pool was a quaint little place (OK, a beach-side dive) called Sea Dawgs. We spent our fair share of $$$ in Sea Dawgs.

That night, after eating Steak Salads that CW made, and that I later threw up (there you go Blair, couldn't let you down--for those of you who don't know Blair, she's a reader who wrote to me once that she and her friends love my puke stories)... digressing here, and I'm not writing this on my computer, but my Alphasmart NEO and it's hard to see what I've previously written, so bare/bear (I never know which one and am too lazy to figure it out) with please!

First night of vaca: three youngest children asleep on one bed, the two girls are watching, you guessed it, HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL, and our husbands have gone MIA. CW, Ajers and I decide to go find them, and we tell the girls that we'll be downstairs (Cuz we knew finding the men would result in simply going downstairs to Sea Dawgs). The great thing about our set-up was that we could see our balcony of our room from Sea Dawgs, which made being at the bar very attainable, especially when CW would just go upstairs to check the kids every 15 minutes (Oh, and to refresh her drink).

I am boring myself right now trying to remember this story to retell it all so I might just have to offer snippets of the rest of the trip, which included the first night at Sea Dawgs, the crashing of a Mexican wedding where we partied with the bride and groom all night (well, until I threw up), and Coach traded his baseball cap for an authentic Mexican sombrero, and they all did tequilla shots and the Macarena, cuz really, what Mexican wedding is complete without tequilla and the Macarena?

My parents and their good friends, and their kids (who are our age) and their kids, (who are my kids' ages) all arrived on Sunday, and that's when we were re-introduced to the Rocket Fuel.

Poolside, we had a waitress named Tess, who would deliver us drinks from Sea Dawgs when we were too lazy to get off our butts and walk two flights to make our own drinks. Well, they had some really nice pina coladas over at Sea Dawgs, and pina coladas are nice, easy drinks to ease you into the day. Well, one afternoon, Coach, hubby, my father, and his friend, who I will now call Neil Armstrong, were all poolside, while we women, being ever-so-subservient, were probably upstairs cleaning the condo and making meals. (OK, we were really lying in bed with hangovers watching Dr. Hollywood 90210, when Dr. Ray performed the vaginaplasty on his ever-so-cute receptionist. And to quote dear Dr. Ray, that surgery is his favorite type to do because the vagina is so pretty. Ewwww. We must have watched six episodes in a row, and I never, never watch TV, you all know that!)

Back to Rocket Fuel. So, the guys are getting loaded, and we discover that Neil Armstrong has suggested to the guys that they get a 151 Rum floater on top of their pina colodas because if you stir it, "it just blends right in."

Yep, they were about ready to take off! One of these drinks and you were well on your way. So, I had one, and decide it's a little bit too powerful so maybe we could lighten the strong taste of the rum by adding just a little bit of Kahlua. Yeppers! My drink of choice, a Rocket-Fuel-Injected Pina Colada with added Kahlua for taste. Oh, and a cherry on top please.

So, this got us through the week, and into the evenings where we would convene at Sea Dawgs where a Jack-Black lookalike was DJing and allowing whomever wanted a shot to take the microphone and do what he pleased. The Coach rocked the house down every single night at Sea Dawgs with his dancing and karaoke moves.
Oh yeah, and I guess there were fireworks on the beach July 3. The kids enjoyed them...
On the fourth, we Rocket-Fueled during the day and then that night we hit a dock-side bar called Dewie's where this band, The Trainwrecks, were playing. They thought they were the trainwrecks until all nineteen of us showed up--10 adults, nine kids. Anyway, check out their site, they're really cool guys and played everything we requested, and play downtown Savannah too.

Did I mention that I am in Tybee Island because my youngest brother is about to wed? Yeah, that's what I'm getting to...

So, it's Thursday night, and my brothers' fiance is going out with her girlfriends in Savannah, so we all go out for my brother's 'bachelor'party. Since this is a destination wedding, his bachelor party consisted of me, hubby, coach, CW, my father, my mother, my sister, her hubby, my other brother, and a few other family friends. After wearing out Sea Dawgs, we decide to venture to the 'happening' side of the island, and end up at a few interesting places, one appropriately called Scandals. We're all dancing and having a good old time, meeting some of the locals and drinking and dancing, and oh, did I mention drinking? Well, somehow hubby is dancing with this little chick, and I don't mean like a cute little chick who I feel threatened by, but a woman who is really short but dancing up a storm. I had noticed a nice looking guy earlier in the night, and since everybody is talking to everybody, since everyone is buzzed, and nice and just happy to be out, Cute Guy and I discover that little chick dancing with my husband is Cute Guy's wife. And she's climbing all over Hubby like he's a rock wall or something, and I'm cracking up because it's hilarious, and Cute Guy is all southern and going, "OH Hell no!" because I think that's a southern phrase, and somehow throughout all this, Cute Guy and I decide that we need to make Little Chick and Hubby jealous, although, I already know nothing will make hubby jealous, but I go along with Cute Guys' plan to make them jealous, because hey, he's all southern and cute and if he wants to pay me some attention to make his Little Chick jealous, then Hell yeah! heh heh hehe
Little did I know at that time that Cute Guy's plan to make Little Chick jealous involved a quick-but-sturdy suck on my neck to produce, just in time for my brother's wedding, a purple hickey!

Of course, I went right up to hubby and said, "OMG, he gave me a hickey!" and then immediately after confessing this, I said, "TAKE A PICTURE SO I CAN POST IT ON THE BLOG!" hahahahahhabwaaa!

Here it is:

So, just when I think that would be the worst of the evening, we all stop at this cute place called Stir The Soul, where Coach, CW, my dad, my husband and I devour about 15 tacos and two cheeseburgers.

The bad part was, we left my two brothers at the bar alone.

And yep, one of them got arrested, and yep, I would love to go into tons of details for you, but you all know my mom is a blog-reader, and I don't think it would be fair of me to share all the family drama with you. Let's just say at 4 a.m. I awake to find my father leaving our condo, and I ask, "Is everything okay?"

His reply: "No. Your asshole brother is in jail."

And then I go into my dad's room and into the bathroom where I see my OTHER brother, the one who is getting married, has left his shirt soaking in cold water in the sink, and his shorts on rolled up on the floor all bloody.

By this time, my lips are numb and I wonder how the hell am I going to have enough Xanax for my mother and me for THIS fiasco, when Hubby wakes up and comes into the hall.

His question:
"Dead or incarcerated?"

I'm like, "Well, incarcerated now, but when mom finds out, he'll be dead for sure."

Long story much too long, there was a bar-room brawl, and as much as my brother would like to think he won, he was beat to hell, and oh yeah, he's the Best Man and needs to give a speech and do Best Man things the very next day.


Fortunately, in leiu of all that shit and drama and trauma, the only unfortunate event during the wedding was a three-hour power outtage at the Hyatt where the wedding party and guests were staying.

The wedding was beautiful, and everyone had feared that the Savannah heat and humidity would be terrible since the ceremony was to be outside at Forsyth Park, but God cooperated and it was a mild 85 with no humidity.

And now I have a new sister-in-law, a brother on probation, Rocket-Fueled memories at Sea Dawgs, a hickey, a tan, about 10 extra pounds, but all in all, it made for a great story.

Now, the question for you is: How much of this do you believe?

Monday, July 10, 2006


I will blog.

But for now, I've added a couple new 100s to the list. Click the link to the right. And please, continue to add your 100 Things!

Manic's Back...

Back again, tell a friend...
(to the tune of the Eminem song)...

And wow, I missed you all, and forgot how to type on this freaking keyboard!

Lots of fun stories to share, and yes, Blair, there's one for you, if ya know what I mean! And stories about Rocket Fuel, and Non-spousal hickies, and Karaoke, and yes, even some jail time (which almost destroyed the wedding)...

Have to get my head back on straight before I blog all about it, but wow, my little brother is married!! And to the most beautiful girl!

R Martini--love the poem! And it was soooo nice to come back to all these well-wishes and happy fourth notes, and wow, you guys are really great and can't wait to check in and see what's new with you!

Now it's off to swim lessons...

xo, Manic