Back On My Meds & A Movie Whore

So, I’m back on my meds. It’s been a rough few weeks, not something I share on the blog too much, and I hope to be feeling better soon. Roller coaster of emotions. My doctor has been great. She describes it as truly a disease, and just as a person with diabetes needs medication, or a person with kidney disease needs medication, I have chemical imbalance in the brain and I need medication. Deep sigh. I’m totally OK with that. I like myself WAY better when I’m on Effexor. And I know my family does too.

In the interim, I was a movie whore yesterday. Saw one while the kids were at school. Saw one with the kids after school. Loved them BOTH! Loved the music in them both! Loved the leading men in them both!

Do yourself a favor, screw shopping this weekend, and treat yourself to a movie:

August Rush


Enchanted


A couple other things:

~ Fave author in the world Jen Weiner had her baby, thanks to Swishy IMming me to tell me today! Phoebe Pearl is the baby's name. Thought you'd all be as excited as I was to hear this news!

~ Going to Weight Watchers for real tomorrow morning. For really real. It’s time. Really time. I’m not kidding. There. I said it. It must be true. Shitola. And yes, for those wondering, that is pronounced SHY-TOE-LAH!

~I'm cleaning out my office--it's like training for a marathon--you know, like preparing for a major event, and my major event is to get my ass into gear to write my second book, well finish the first draft I'm half-way done with. I need to bulldoze through the crap in here, declutter my clutter and get into shape to start writing again. Because we're just about one month away from Resolution time!

~ Be safe this holiday season. A neighbor in our subdivision was not just ‘robbed’ on Wednesday, but ‘ransacked’ is the word used to describe the robbery. Apparently, the thieves broke in via the front door, then drove their van into their garage, went through every drawer in their house. They rang neighbor’s doors to make sure no one close by was home. I’m very thankful we have an alarm system that I set each and every time we leave the house. Make sure to keep your garage doors closed, your home doors locked, and packages out of view in your car. And always lock your car doors. That’s just asking for something to be stolen. And don’t let your kids out of your sight. It’s one thing to have possessions stolen, but the real valuables are your family. Keep everyone safe. This has been a Manic Public Message.

~ This weekend marks THREE freaking years I’ve been blogging. Has blogging even been around that long? Am I insane? Why do I continue? Again, Shitola.

To give you an idea of where I was three years ago, I give you two installments of what I wrote on that first day’s post, December 3, 2004:

So, being freshly relocated to the Chicago area, the men in this family are all about the sports scene. Mr. Manic’s buddy was able to score some big tix for a box at the Bulls game. I used to follow MJ back when he was 23, then 45, then we moved east and I became disenchanted. Now we're back, and it would be really cool to see a game, experience the Chicago sports thing again, and maybe eat and drink some free grub. I thought it would be a fun family night, seeing as we've all been a little stressed with the relocation.

Hub: Joe got about 25 tickets to a Bulls game skybox.

Me: Cool! Can our whole family go?

Hub: Uh... I'll have to check with Joe. [grabs the cordless, walks into the other room and makes a call - or maybe he didn't make a call? hmmm....]

Hub (returning from the other room): Actually, he's only got 10 tickets.

Yeah, right.... and next time someone in this house wants to score, there just might not be a ticket available for the box...

And then, this post---

Last night, my seven-year old, out of the blue, mind you, opens up an interesting topic of discussion. Let me replay the incident for you within quotation marks:

AJers: Mom, how do you spell fuck?
(Emphasis was placed on the word DO, as if he had been contemplating this earth shattering question for days now in his young life.)

After my eyeballs were suctioned back into my head by the inhalation of my breath, I said,

"Where did you ever hear that?"

AJers: (shrugging) "I dunno."

I pressed further: "Come on, where did you hear that?"

AJers: "Nowhere."

Me: "AJers?"

Unable to come up with a logical answer he lifts his shoulders and his eyebrows, almost as if a question and says: "You?"

Me: "You never heard me say that!"

AJers: "Yeah, remember the other day, you started to go 'ffffffffrrrr'?"

Me: "I was going to say FREAK."

Then I sat him down and said, "AJers, that is the baddest, baddest worst bad word in the entire world. Worse than stupid or dumb or hate or fart or crap and I never want you to say it again, okay?"

AJers: "Okay."

Me: "I'm not mad at you. I'm glad we had this talk."

Fuck, what am I going to do now?