Posts Tagged ‘NaBloPoMo’

Help Wanted

Posted January 29, 2012 Mom Media 4 Comments

 

Here we are, nearing the end of January, and nearing the end of this month’s NaBloPoMo.  I’ve done pretty well, I’d say.  I missed a few days here and there, but I think I’m going to go ahead and call it a win.  Mostly because it’s my blog and I can do whatever the hell I want to.  So there.

The next question is, do I sign up for February?  That’s a tough one.  I don’t want to have to blog every day – because that can be a pain in the ass – but it does, at least, make me write something.  Hopefully more kick ass somethings, than so-so ones.

Also, since I have this audition for Listen to Your Mother coming up, I’m going to need to write something good to preform.  And right now, I don’t have a thing.  Nothing.  At all.  Not even a topic.

Yeah.  {Screwed.}

This is where y’all come in.  I wanted to ask you all, what do you think?  Which of my posts do you like?  What topic should I discuss?  Anything I’ve written so far that you loved and I can build on?  Anything that was incredibly lame?

 

 

 

I really need you to help me out, dammit!

See this is the point that I always get stuck at: the starting point.  I look at a task and I get overwhelmed and I just can’t move forward.  House is a mess…don’t know where to start…don’t clean the house.  Huge project due…don’t know what to do…don’t do the project.  Got to get healthy…overwhelmed…don’t do anything.  Audition to perform…don’t know where to start….NooooOOoooooo!  Not again!

If I can’t even figure out what to write, I guarantee I won’t finish starting this whole big mess. And that is just not an option at this point.  I found a way to push outside of my normal safety zone, and I’m determined to go through with it.  Win or lose, I want to give it a great go.

I guess this is where February’s NaBloPoMo might help.  Perhaps I’ll treat every day as a mini writing session for the audition.  (Don’t worry – I want it to be in my voice, so I will still do my best to be funny and relatable and maybe even poignant too.)

Now, just tell me what the hell I should write about!

No, seriously, leave a comment.

Now.

Pleaseandthankyou.

 

 

I’m good at reality tv

Posted January 25, 2012 Life 1 Comment

I am forever stuck in my teenage years.

(Actually, I’m not…and thank GOD for that.  Cause, that was some serious, serious crap.)

But, in the way that I love MTV reality shows – particularly The Challenge – I am still a teenager.

To prove it, this year I’ve joined a fantasy leauge to make it even better…if that’s even possible.

Yes, MTV goes against all that I want to stand for in Mommydom.  (No, daughters, you can’t get fall-down-drunk on television. No, daughters, you can not date a guy that jokes about his balls on television.  No, daughters, you sure as hell can NOT, but any means, have sex with random people while a man holding a video camera watches and records you all for the sake of television.  No, no, and HELL to the NO.)

But it pairs perfectly with my late night obsessions: wine and chocolate and the love of all things ridiculously over the top and cheesy.  This is my Mommy perk – I get to watch the shows that are devoid of anything useful to my intelect and full of debauchery.  I get to laugh at their dumb asses for making fools of themselves.  Even if it’s nothing I would ever want my kids to watch.  Cause I’m the adult.  And I said so.  So there.

To make my teenage regression even better, I’m going to add some gambling!  Pretty much, each player gets to pick 4 cast members, then we just watch the drama unfold.  You are awarded points when your cast member does anything you would feel horrible about in real life – fighting, excessive drinking, sexual acts – and when they win challenges.  All the points are added at the end of the season and the team with the most points wins the dough!

We did the draft the other day and I got Aneesa, CT, LeRoy, and Dunbar.  Not the best overall, but I’m hoping CT and LeRoy will take me far in that both are good competitors.  Also, CT is as crazy as crazy comes and LeRoy is nothing but a man whore.

{Yes, I am in fact watching the first episode and tallying my points while I write this post.}

You know what’s going to suck, though?  If I suck at this.  Because I totally blew in almost all of my fantasy football leauges this year, and if I suck at this too, I’m going to be pissed.  If nothing else, I should be good at reality tv.  Not doing it – again, I’m not about having sex on tv – but watching it, I am good at that.  {Wow, so not something my Mom is proud of.  Oops.}

With that being said, I’ve got to bail on this post.  Mama sees lots of bodies dripping in honey and my stomach is all in knots that my people aren’t going to bring their A games. No points so far!?  Dammit!

Just so you know though, if I have to choose between blogging and the combo of reality and gambling….reality gambling will win.  Every. Single. Time.

 

 

Blogging is hard, mkay?

Posted January 24, 2012 Mom Media 6 Comments

Oh Lord…

8 more days of posts to write.  8 more days of funny to bring.  8 more days of ideas to squeeze out of my mind.

NaBloPoMo January 2012
Really?  I don’t think this ol’ betty has got 8 more days – even if we all got together and prayed really hard.  (Not to mention that it would be really selfish of me to ask y’all to pray that I write good blog posts for 8 more days in a row when we could all be wishing for much more important things.  Like world peace.  Or for a united nation, no longer torn apart from politics.  Or the end of those really annoying radio commercials in which two people talk to each other in a “nonchalant” kind of way in order to repeatedly tell us a phone number to call.  “What number did you call, Betty?  Was it 888-your-mom?”  “Yep, 888-your-mom.”  “You said 888-your-mom, right?”  “You’ve got it, Norma!  888-your-mom!”  Yeah. That. Lets pray to end that.)

Anyway, regardless of praying, today I am low on interest and feeling burnt out.  And now, while I really do like her posts and love how she runs NaBloPoMo, Melissa had to go and have this to say…

“You’re participating in NaBloPoMo, which means you need to drag yourself to the computer whether you want to or not. I know that sitting down in front of the screen is hard, but I promise you, you’ll feel better once you do it. It’s like exercising: sometimes it hurts to pull on the shorts and sports bra, you sigh loudly as you drive to the gym, and you pretty much want to cry when you step onto the treadmill. But you feel so damn good when it’s over that you can almost forget that you need to go through this again the next day.”

…which made me want to throw my laptop at her.

I mean, for me, most of that is accurate.  Drag to the computer? Check.  Sigh loudly as I drive to the gym?  Check.  Cry on the treadmill?  Hell yes that’s a check.  Feel so damn good when it’s over that I almost forget all this pain?  Um, hells to the em effin no.  Not at the gym, and not when I’m writing.

Sure, sometimes it comes easily.  Sometimes I can laugh and write really easily and tackle that elliptical like it’s my bitch.  Hell, I can even be thankful I worked out/wrote from time to time.  But, around day 18 or so, blogging gets to be a whole different kind of beast.

This is more how I see it:

Moms, do you remember when you had your baby, and you saw it’s smiling cooing little bald head, and then your raging hormones made you forget about all the pain the little bundle of joy just caused you?  You forgot about the fact that at least half a dozen people saw your junk all in the air doing things that really shouldn’t humanly be possible.  You forgot that you pushed a semi-alien life form outside of a tiny whole in your body that shouldn’t have allowed even the smallest bit of that baby out under normal circumstances.  You forgot how much that really flipping sucked for the next few days while you bled uncontrollably or had never-ending pain in your nethers or how you couldn’t stand without yelping or how you couldn’t even freaking poop.

Well, now…you know how that same child stayed up all night long crying and not sleeping just because it freaking could?  And how that child threw a tantrum in the middle of the grocery store when you were surrounded by what felt like hundreds of other judgy moms?  And how that same child pushed every single one of your buttons and then it said something like, “you don’t do anything for me, MOM!”

And do you remember, how at those exact moments, every single horrific ache and pain came flooding back to your memory and you were all like, “OH HELL TO THE MUTHA FRACKING NO!  I SURE AS HELL DID BIRTH YOU, AND I HAVE THE VAGINA/STRETCH MARKS/PTSD TO PROVE IT!”

Yeah, that’s how I feel about writing.  Sometimes I enjoy what I wrote.  That baby is fresh and new and smells like powder and nurses easily and has the cutest little non-poop-stained onesies to wear.  Sometimes I re-read that post and think I did a good job and that I could do that again, easy peasy.  And that my next post would come out of me like like rainbows out of a unicorn.  Beautiful, poetic.  Awesome.

Other days, writing is like birthing a small elephant.  It hurts and it’s hard and the elephant smells horrifically bad and leaves nothing but giant loads of crap in it’s wake.  And afterward, I think it would be better for everyone involved if I were to pay my cat to walk across the keyboard instead of me trying to do it all over again. Because that post was lame, poorly written, and just plain bad.

Yeah, that’s how I feel about writing.  It a nutshell.

But, just for the record, I’m hoping the next 8 days will be less elephantine, and much more rainbows and unicorns.

Fingers crossed.

 

3 people read my blog

Posted January 17, 2012 Mom Media 5 Comments

If you noticed, I totally skipped blogging yesterday.  I’m supposed to be in the throws of NaBloPoMo (one post a day) for January, but I was just in too much of a “return from vacation” stupor/hangover/freak-out that I decided to say screw it.  I hope none of you are forever scarred.

Also, I did get news yesterday that people I know read my blog, and that has sent me into a crazy blogger tizzy.

My blog.  Read by neighbors and friends and instructors and who-the-hell-else-knows.

Yikes.

See, I don’t actually share this site with people in “real life.”  I don’t throw it out there to everyone I know.  I know there are a few hundred of you that check in on a normal basis, but not too many I see on a regular Saturday night.  Mostly because this blog is my little piece of sanity that I can use however the hell I see fit.  I knew that a few friends read it occasionally, sure, and that was about it.  But, I had three people in the same room – none of which I met through any kind of social media, and none of whom were related to me in any way – that all knew about my blog.

GULP.

I guess 3 is the tipping point for me because I find this both totally exciting and highly nerve wracking.

“More people are reading!  Woohoo!  They think I’m funny!  Woohoo!  I must actually be a blogger!  Woohoo!”

was directly followed by:

“What if they are totally weird-ed out by all the crap I write about?”  (As I’ve said in the past, I don’t exactly sound like this in real life, unless you’ve known me for 10+ years or have gotten me drunk.  As an example, I heard the other day that another couple called me quiet. Bwahahahaha!)

“What if they tell more people about it and then all of a sudden there are people reading that I called a jerk in a previous post?”

“What if they’re like, “Wow!  That Mandy sure is one hell of a bad mom and a nut job to boot!” then divert their eyes every time they pass me around town?”

Yeah.  Neuroses.  I’ve got ‘em.

Long post short…or not…

Hi, new readers!  Hi, friends of mine!  If you are new to Last Minute Mommy, welcome!  Be warned, though: I cuss like a sailor, I talk a lot, I bitch about motherhood (but love my kids) and fitness and life in general, and sometimes I let out the inner crazy. So, pretty much, I’m just like you.  Only, I am constantly late and so much less on my game.

Whether you’re new to this version of me or not, I’m glad your here.  I hope you enjoy your stay.

You’ll find the padded room rather comfy once you settle in with a big ole’ glass of sangria.

Cheers!

 

 

 

 

10, 9, 8, oh crap…

Posted January 6, 2012 Life 5 Comments

I’ve got about 10 minutes to post in order to beat the NaBloPoMo deadline.  Will I make it!?

I can’t think of a topic.  (Hence why I took so long.)

tick….9

I post to twitter.  “Someone save me!”  Kristen throws me a life line…”Do a tick tock theme.”  (Someone remind me to buy some of her cookies or something.)

tock….8

Stop playing Hot Donut.  You’re phone will be there in a minute. (But. Must. Jump. River!)

tick…7

Yes, the yoga video is hilarious.  Watch it again.  No problem.  Namaste muthafucka!

tock…6

Don’t look at pintrest!  That’s like the black whole of internet time!

 

tick…5

Oh….look…squirel!  (Insert reference to “hiding under your porch because I love you” and hope that some other “Up” lover will get the reference cause you don’t have enough time to find a picture to embed.)

tock…4

Husband!  Stop your effin’ snoring!  I can’t blog with all that sawing going on over there.  For the love of my eardrums!

tick…3

All of a sudden I really want an orange tick tack.  Don’t even try to give me one of those nasty green ones.  They are the color of doctor’s scrubs and they taste like grass.

tock…2

I wonder if husband will be pissed that I threw him under the “you snore like a lumberjack” log.  (See that little tie in?  Brilliant, no?)  I will smooth it over by telling you that I also snore.  So. Not. Sexy.

tick….1

Revel in my Speedy McBloggyness.  Look at the header – I’m a last-minute mommy.  I get shit done.  Last minute, yes, but it happens.  And my time stamp shows when I start…so there.

And for sticking around, I will gift you the best stuffed animal/landshark impression making device, evah…

You’re welcome.  And goodnight, muthafucka!

 

It’s funny time, bitches!

Posted January 1, 2012 Life 9 Comments

 

Remember back in November, when I was NaBloPoMo-ing?

And then remember how I fell off the face of the planet for ALL of December?

(About that: hopefully you’ll forgive me.  I mean, there was all kinds of list-making, and shopping, and tree trimming, and cleaning, and baking, and cooking, and wrapping, and decking, and card sending, and party crashing, and screaming, and yelling, and stress-induced freakouts and all that overwhelming JOY.  All of that tends to keep one busy.)

 

NaBloPoMo January 2012

 

Well, I figured I could use a little more NaBloPoMo back in my life if I were to ever write again.

And you could all use more of me in your lives.  Right?

*Crickets*

Huh.  Well, tough shit, you get me anyway.

But since it’s not the official “National Blog Post Month” right now, BlogHer is doing things differently.  There’s not nearly as many participants, so they make every blogger break up into catagories.  You know: Book lovers, family bloggers, cooking blogs, traveler, anonymous foaming, etc.

Unfortunately, they didn’t have a listing for “schizophrenic.”  Or one for sarcasm.  Or even one for “halfway to bat-shit crazy.”

Instead, I signed up under humor.

Humor.

What the hell was I thinking?  I can turn it on every once in a while, sure, but can I really bring it for 31 days in a row!?!  (And, let me please add a big ol’ EM EFFER to the fact that I chose a long month to do this.  Em. Effer.)

Also, not to mention, that I obviously want to throw in some writting about all my other random stuff – resolutions, family trials, rants about random jerks off the street – so now I have the added pressure of making all those posts funny too.

I’m so screwed.

And now, seeing as how you are totally along for the ride, you are too!

Yay!  31 days of me being humorous!

It’s funny time, bitches!

 

Sharing Thoughts

Posted November 29, 2011 Life 6 Comments

 

I have come to realize that I like to blog to share my thoughts.  (It’s a simple idea, I know.  But stick with me…)

In reality I do not do this very often.  I keep my thoughts inside for various reasons.  Sometimes it’s unintentional – I just want to not think for a while, or I’m distracted by something else.  But sometimes it is very much intentional.  I don’t want to get too upset.  I don’t want to rock the boat.  I don’t think anyone would care.  I don’t want to let you see behind the curtain.  I want to stay happy and upbeat and lighthearted.  I don’t want the world to know that I secretly love cussing and that I want a healthier life and that I worry.  All of these are valid reasons, in my eyes.

When I do let out these thoughts in real life, they sometimes careen out of control.  I may scream at the top of my lungs with obscenities.  I may get sidetracked and stumble over the eloquently prepared verses so that they come out as “uh, yeah, that. “  It is all too often that, in real life, my voice just gets kind of lost.  Yes – I can be rather loud in person – but that doesn’t mean the sound I’m making is what I find important, what I’m truly thinking.  It’s not the meat of me.

If I had to guess, I’d think a lot of people are like that.  We all want to be known.  Are thoughts make us “us” and keeping it inside just doesn’t seem like your are being true or living all of life.  Even if I do want to be the happiest person in the room, I also want to think sometimes too – just in my own place, in my own time.

Blogging is a way of putting it out there.  Of being you.  It is in fact, you, living.  I know it seems counter intuitive – that me, hiding behind this computer, putting ideas out over the internet as a face-less being would equal me living – but it is true somehow.  Yes, doing it in person in great too.  But sometimes it’s just not possible.  And blogging makes it be possible.  Sometimes I get to let out the deep thinker, sometimes the cussing sailor, sometimes the person that just wants to yell at the lady that’s wearing too much damn perfume.

Perhaps that’s why all bloggers crave comments.  Simply to know that they were heard.  I don’t need a bunch of people to read my blog.  I don’t need comments that stroke my ego.  I don’t need to make money or be widely known.  Okay, I’d take all of those things, but mostly…

I just want to know I’m heard.

A “like” is you hearing.  A tweet is hearing.  A mention in real life is hearing.  A blip up in analytics tells me you are hearing.  And yes, a comment is hearing – even if it just a comment that says “I’m listening.”  (Which, could possibly be construed as really creepy, but since I’m also an odd bird, I would find it rather fulfilling.)

You hearing is good.  But I think I will continue to write, regardless.  I do hope you hear me.  But I guess, even if you don’t, I’d rather write it all out than scream into a pillow.   I’d like to continue to try to be fully me here.  (With cussing and strange shifts in mood and topics be damned!)

And if you want to add to the conversation, I think that’d be pretty damn spiffy too.  Either way, I’m good.

 

 

Brain Dump

Posted November 25, 2011 Life 2 Comments

 

Today I will do a brain dump.  Lucky you…

I’m still in a food coma from yesterday.  Thanksgiving was awesome.  We all wore turkey leg hats…all 11 of us.  It was beautiful.  My husband makes kick ass mashed potatoes, and cauliflower tastes amazing in a cheese bechamel sauce.  As most things rightfully do.

Squealing like a mermaid after staring blankly at someone for 10 seconds will get a whole room to erupt in laughter.

I’m also slightly traumatized by the fact that I left all my leftover turkey at mom’s house.  (em effer!!!)

And my kids have been around their friends (whom we love) all day, but they are sick and now I can’t help but be overly paranoid that my super asthmatic child is going to come down with the death cold.  Please, please, please, oh germ fairies, let my child not be touched with some black plague that will make her need orapred and 24hr nebs and scary “she looks like she needs the ER” moments.

I was going to go black friday shopping, but then I realized I’m not an idiot.

I saw Aurthur’s Christmas instead.  It was very funny and way good.  But due to the fact that I’m now a “fem-nazi” I have to mention two totally unnecessary moments: 1) “I’d like to thank my wife for cooking and cleaning and doing all the other things that wife’s do when their husbands are away at work.”  Suck it Santa.  Mrs. Clause totally owned you in the movie anyway.   2)  “That was back when we thought it was ridiculous to teach women how to read.”  Really!?  Even the two 9-year-olds I was with were completely offended by this.

I started this post at 11:58.  While it is now technically another day, I have not yet gone to sleep, so I still count it as today.  That’s Mandy logic.  Welcome to my world.  (My husband and I have this debate all the time.  It will still be today, and not tomorrow, even if I do go to sleep and wake up at 4 am.  Cause I’m not up for good yet.  It’s just how my brain works.  Deal.)  Also, I’m totally back dating this post to 11:59 on the 25th cause I sure as hell didn’t write 24 posts in a row to blow it now.  So there.

 

Happy Thanksgiving!

Posted November 24, 2011 Life 1 Comment

IT’S TURKEY TIME, BITCHES!!!

Before I Volunteer Again…

Posted November 22, 2011 Life 2 Comments

 

My friend sent me this the other day:

 

 

Does she know me well, or what?!

Funny thing is that it came the day after I had said “no” to something and lived through it.

Well, several somethings in fact.

I enjoyed the Advent Workshop at church, with out having to volunteer my craft making skills.

I dropped my kids off with out having to contribute to the baked items that the PTA was collecting.

I breezed right on past the parent volunteers at Grandparents day on my way out to lunch and a movie.

It was lovely.  All of it.  And I don’t feel one bit ashamed or guilty.

Because I fundraise, buy, sell, plan, organize, lend my time, give my skills and generally pimp myself out for the greater good plenty, thank you very freaking much.

And everyone deserves some time out every once in a while.  We all deserve a day of rest or fun or goofing off or blessed, blessed sleep.

Lock yourself in your house and turn off the phone.  Make plans with friends who will verbally berate you if you bail.  Set a goal to watch every Twighlight back to back.  Just stop yourself before you volunteer again.

 

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