I see the light at the end of the tunnel, and I'm ALMOST sure that it's not an oncoming train.
I have eighteen half-finished posts. End of summer Spawn emotional train wreckage! Vast right-wing conspiracy of back to school extortion! Secret affairs and breakups! Horribly embarassing photos of myself as a child! But that will all have to wait until I finally have time to write some shit, hopefully tomorrow.
In the meantime, I had signed up to be a part of Neil Kramer's wicked cool Great Interview Experiment, which I mightily wish I had thought of in the first place. As serendipity would have it, I was matched with my ruminative friend John Dove, of Buddha on the Road fame. John and I have swapped many emails in the past. He's even motivated me to buy a book on mediation, although I have not been able to calm down enough to actually READ it yet.
So if you're bored visit John's posted interview of me. If nothing else, reading about my neuroses should make you feel that much better about yourself.
Nothing below the fold today. Special note to Bites: I PROMISE am going to fix my frigging popup window issues but I don't have the brainwidth to deal with it today. I need to find a high schooler or some other child labor to exploit to fix my technical issues.
Nothing below the fold, no need for clickage.
Friday, August 15, 2008
My Long Overscheduley Nightmare Is Almost Over
Sunday, August 3, 2008
The Miseducation Of America's Youth
Let me apologize AGAIN for the stench of laziness wafting from my blog this week.
I still haven't caught up from vacation and now I'm taking five MORE vacation days to teach an undergraduate advertising class at a local college. I've been spending all of my free time reading the textbook (which I never bothered to do when I was actully in college) and getting my lectures ready.
Tuition is about $4000 per kid with 11 students. And someday, I will pay roughly twice the GDP of Guam in order to send my own Spawn to college. This makes me feel like a high-priced call girl and therefore obligated to give my paying customers their money's worth. And if they start getting bored, I can always bust out some stories about how high Tom Green appeared to be on one of my photoshoots, or list of all of the reasons why it's a bad idea to eat craft services sushi.
In honor of the damage I will be inflicting on tomorrow's business leaders, this recycled post is from another time that I faced a hostile audience. It's old, so it kind of sucks. Endure/ignore at your discretion.
Perils Of The Linen Closet
Yesterday morning, I was struggling with my still newish, un-MILFy haircut, trying to get it to a place that didn't make me look so much like Tilda Swinton. Somehow I managed to cut my hand on my hairdryer, causing me to smear blood all over my tasteful Banana Republic career separates.
After working my way through all of my favorite expletives (The Boy – (“Mommy, what does (rhymes with rock pucker) mean?”) I grabbed a Band-Aid from the messy bin in the linen closet and doctored myself up.
After changing into a new outfit that had the least amount of stains and wrinkles, I passed out hugs and lunches, wrote a preemptive note of apology to The Boy's teachers for when he repeated the new words I'd taught him, and headed off to Dunkin Donuts (the High Ridge location if you're keeping score) for 24-ounces of sweet caffeinated salvation.
With the double D in my car cupholder (because there ain't no D's in my other cupholders - The Evil Twins can barely muster up a 34A nowadays) and twenty minutes of driving ahead, I tried to put my mind through the mental gymnastics that help me get into work mode. I had a big presentation to give to some important types at work, and I didn't want to LOOK like as big of a jackass as I was FEELING like on this particular day.
Flash ahead to noon. I had just finished delivering my presentation. It was jam-packed with every feature and function that Powerpoint has to offer: charts, graphs (of the pie, line, AND bar varieties), bullet-pointing, animations. I'd hit them with forecasts, projections, conclusions, educated guesses, visionary speculations. I used words like "paradigm shift"and "step change." I had props and prototypes. I had my admin order lunch, because serving food is pretty much always guaranteed to put managerial cogs in a good mood.
But my magnificence was met with silence. Finally, one of the women spoke up. Six heads in various states of gray and/or baldness swiveled toward the sound of her voice.
“Hey,” Female Executive That I Had Once Liked said loudly. “Is that a Hello Kitty band-aid on your hand?”
Why yes. Of course it was. Thanks for pointing that out. And let's all also watch the spectacular explosion of my professional reputation, while we're at it.
Six heads whipped back and forth between staring at her and staring at my hand. It was like a bunch of teenage boys watching Anna Kournikova and Maria Sharapova play Wimbledon naked.
“Um, yes," I said. "They sell them at Target." If I didn't sound stupid enough, I added, "They have My Little Pony ones too.”
“Good to know," said Female Senior Executive Who Just Barely Spared Herself a Blog-Lashing. "I need to get some of those. My daughter hurts herself all the time. Now, let’s talk about your recommendations….”
Life Lesson #1: Sometimes, the Power of Mom can be your saving grace.
Life Lesson #2: Always look before you Band-Aid.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
A Statistical Analysis of My Post-Vacation Nervous Breakdown
Estimated days it will take to unpack and reassimilate all crap: 3
Percentage of tomato plants that died while we were away: 89%
Hours of unwatched shows on the DVR: 18
Toilets containing week-old unflushed kid pee: 1
Length of unmowed grass: 19 inches tall
Minutes that The Girl cried in the car on the way home: 27
Minutes that Spawn slept in the car: zero
Total pounds gained: 6
Number of digital photos to sort through: 734
Estimated percentage of digital photos that halfway decent: 12%
Unread work emails: 889 (before mailbox went over size limit and shut down)
Weight of unopened mail: 24 pounds
Months it will take to pay off vacation credit card debt: 2.5
Ratio of vacation fun to stressful aftermath: 1:1000
I'll get myself together and write something decent soon, I hope.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Big Ben! Parliament!
Scene from The Manager household earlier today:
4:00 A.M. The Boy enters our bedroom, fully dressed and teeth brushed, wearing backpack full of toys and clutching Transformers action figure in each fist. Announces loudly that he’s ready to leave for vacation.
4:01 Manager Dad leads him back into his room and stuffs him back into bed, still fully clothed.
6:00 Alarm goes off. MD goes downstairs and circles mountain of luggage like a wary lion trying to fell a water buffalo. Begins loading car while Spawn toss random last-minute must-bring items onto the pile.
6:22 Head to Dunkin Donuts to procure trip rations.Finish first 24oz coffee in under 2 minutes; return to Dunkin Donuts for seconds.
6:40 Car packed; last-minute walkthrough of the house sparks meltdown when The Boy spots the Wii and is told that it's not coming with us.
7:00 Family in car, ready to depart.
7:01 The Girl requests a bathroom stop.
7:05 Leave driveway.
7:06 The Boy requests a bathroom stop. Return to house.
7:09 Leave driveway for the second time.
7:13 Get within twenty feet of the parkway on-ramp. Crisis erupts as The Girl discovers that her bagel has the wrong flavor cream cheese. Manager Dad turns the car around and heads back to Dunkin Donuts for bagel exchange.
7:22 Finally get on the parkway. Despite the bagel swap, The Girl decides that cream cheese "tastes funny". Boy refuses to eat his own bagel in a show of solidarity. Pass out granola bars and Smartfood.
7:26 Snack stash completely decimated. Spawn still hungry. Pass out gum and Tic Tacs.
7:27 First "Are we there yet?" Source child unknown.
7:29 The Boy requests another bathroom stop. No exits for twenty miles. MD pulls car over to shoulder and takes him on a nature hike.
7:31 Fight breaks out over which movie to put on the DVD player. "Alvin and the Chipmunks" beats "Underdog". Somewhere in Hollywood, Jason Lee cashes a fat royalty check while wearing an evil grin.
7:35 Sound of chipmunk singing causes me to repeatedly stab myself in the ears with plastic bagel knife.
7:36 Loud sobbing is heard; realize it's coming from me.
Only five more hours until we reach our destination.
Family vacation time. To improve the entertainment value of any other posts I might wring from my remaining brain cells, please Fedex survival kits containing sunscreen, booze, and National Enquirers to my attention, care of Pondsea House, Peaks Island, Maine.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Phoning in a Twofer - A Meme with a Twist, Plus Giveaways!
A few weeks ago, I was "tagged" for the first time ever to do a "meme" (or whatever the kids are calling it nowadays) by the lovely and talented Mimi On The Breach.
When I first started blogging I didn't think I would do memes. But now I realize how hard it is to consistently come up with good quality shit to write about, especially since my life is not that interesting. Some of us can spit out daily posts that are dense, metaphor-packed, and cause the reader to weep helplessly by prompting the startling realization of a deep life truism. I, on the other hand, write about things like my kids' farts and my miniscule boobies.
Add the fact that work is really kicking my ass this week and the meme idea (with slight modifications for laziness) is looking pretty appealing. And for good measure, I'm going to throw in the other thing I thought I'd never do, which is to give away TWO (2) unfabulous prizes - revealed at the end of the post.
But enough pre-mumble. Let's get this party started. (And I'll keep the contest open until Saturday Morning.)
Rule #1. I tag ALL OF YOU. Don't feel like you have to link back to me, though.
Rule #2. Either read my six random things, or ignore them.
Rule #3. Leave a comment with one random thing of your own. Or not.
Rule #4. One prize will be given to a randomly drawn commenter.
Rule #5. The other prize will be awarded to my favorite comment, based on completely arbitrary and unfair reasons of my own choosing.
Without further ado, Manager Mom's Six Random Things: 
1. I am afraid of earrings. I have vivid hallucinations about them getting caught on something and causing my earlobes to rip open and spew gore everywhere. 
2. As a teenager I was once involved in a series of events that culminated in me throwing up in the back seat of a cop car. The fallout was more unpleasant (and more expensive) than you can imagine. 
3. If you are trying to remain a MILF, but are on a budget, bangs are cheaper than Botox. 
4. Having met him in real life, I find it entirely plausible that Always Home & Uncool and I are twins that were seperated at birth.
5. I wish I was a little bit taller, I wish I was a baller. I wish I had a girl who looked good, I would call her. I wish I had a rabbit in a hat with a bat and a '64 Impala. 
6. I almost didn't add the "Mom" to the "Manager". Back when Manager Dad and I were dating, I never realized that I wanted to have kids. But then came the day that we first met MD's newborn nephew. I saw the look on his face when they handed that baby to him and knew at that moment that a) he was the man that I wanted to marry and b) that he would make the best father in the WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD. (Happy Belated Father's Day, MD).
So there you have my six random things. And the unfabulous prizes?
Yep, that's right! Two lucky winners will get their choice of a Kum & Go wearable, which gives me the PERFECT excuse to order the green shirt for myself.
Updated on June 30th: The random winner is Ann at Velvet Lava and the Mom's Choice award went Stamford Talk. Because she was my first non-relative reader, and she begged a lot in the comment section.
