I had the most amazing pumpkin-apple soup in New York last week. It was the first course of our fancy dinner before we went to see the Broadway musical, “Billy Elliott.” Which we viewed from the fourth row.

The waiter brought the soup out PIPING hot, and after he ladled some into my bowl, he produced what looked like a puff of white cotton candy. Which he called “spun sugar” (Which I think is restaurantese for “this will cost extra”). He placed the stuff right on the surface of my soup, where it just collapsed and melted and dissolved in, adding just the right amount of sweetness. It was simply divine.

Why do I tell you this?

Well. You know how they say that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction? Or if everything is going well, then “the other shoe is about to drop?”

Yeah, well that sound you just heard was the other shoe DROPPING. On Monday, the luxury of last week was eclipsed by this week’s real life.

In fact, by 9 a.m., Monday already had Week Away on the ropes. By 10, Monday had gone all Ralphie on Week Away, and Week Away was crying like a little girl (or Scutt Farkus with his bloody nose).

Hey! Did you know that the guy who played Scutt Farkus on Christmas Story was also the younger brother on that short-lived sitcom with that ranty blond comedian guy? Well he was. True story.

Where was I? Oh yeah: Monday was challenging. So challenging that my much-celebrated laser focus as a writer was absent until 10 p.m.

Of course now it’s all back.

But we’re sick. Only one kid went to school today. The other two went to the doctor. It was LC’s 12yo well checkup, but I added on Abby for a sick visit.

Note to self: doctors don’t like to do “well” checkups when the patient is sick. I know, right? Weird. Now I have to reschedule.

But the good news is that I now know how sick my kids are:

LC has the flu. Most likely of the swine variety.

Abby has either RSV or the flu. Or quite possibly both.

Hannah has all the symptoms that LC has, but with less intensity. Which made me wonder if she should go to school or not Tuesday. Until I realized that if she didn’t, I could sleep in. She’s staying home.

And me? Well, I’m sick too thanks for asking. Irony: I’m the ONLY one with a fever. Turns out you don’t need one!

My muse was fast asleep all day, but then she apparently consumed a Monster energy drink or some meth or something, cuz she suddenly had a lot to say at 10 p.m. Good thing I’m self-disciplined enough to rein her in and keep this post from bouncing all over the place.

Which reminds me: I shall now recite a poem.

No, I’m kidding. Apparently muses hopped up on meth prefer prose. I know, right? Weird.

So here I am in New York City on the day after the New York Yankees won the World Series. I don’t pay much attention to baseball, normally. But a couple of my bloggy friends are …let’s just say… INTENSE fans, so I was at least aware of who the two teams were this year.

(Congrats Sarah Salter and Billy Coffey! The mojo worked!)

Tomorrow’s ticker tape parade for the Yanks starts only a few blocks from this hotel. And while I don’t think we’ll get to see it, I bet we’ll “benefit” from the extra traffic at this end of Manhattan.

As for today, after last night’s lovely Harbor Cruise, I came back to the room once again tired beyond belief. As a result, I’ve taken the morning off from the conference.  And here I sit eating a room service bagel (of course, reasonably priced!) in my hotel bathrobe.

Today, I’d love to show you pictures from the cruise, but the combination of long distances, darkness, a rocking boat, and an average camera means that Lady Liberty turned out as a great green blob with a light at the top. The skyline? Just lights.

But, you Lucky People, I do have one picture to share with you.

No, not the video of the bathroom stall. Now after Candy’s comment about its illegality, I’m chickening out on posting it. International woman of mystery, not so much.

Instead, here’s a photo that I think captures the exuberance and eccentricity that is New York City:

Just your ordinary street scene: pedestrians, cars, cabs, cyclists, even a horse-drawn carriage… Right?

Oh, but let’s take a closer look at something:

That’s right. That bicyclist’s shorts contain the phrase
“Naked Nuggets.”

It’s not the Nekkid Cowboy of Times Square, but still more information than I ever wanted to contemplate.

And I guess that’s what New York City is all about.

Sorry / You’re welcome.

Day One in New York, A Diary

8:00 Wake up. Ahhhh…. Sleeping in. How glorious! New York City, here I come! Put on my pin-striped suit, nice blouse, accessories, high-heeled boots. I am CHIC. I shall conquer the world.

9:00 First meeting. I meet the Publisher at a major publishing house. She shakes  my hand and says that She. Has. Read. My. Blog. Oh yeah. Clearly, I’ve arrived.

9:30 Maxwell’s literary agent turns to me and asks the nightmare question: “Stephanie, would you share with the group what you’ve been doing with John’s social media?” Huh? What? Um, nobody told me to prepare for THAT. We are sitting with eight of the top influencers in this House. I say…. something. For … some period of time. And then (I assume) I conclude. I have no memory of what I communicated. But I think the adrenaline rush burned 500 calories in 5 minutes. I’m a sweaty moron.

12:00 Lunch. Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. The restroom must contain more expensive furnishings than my entire house. I secretly video the bathroom stall. Meet attendant outside door and manage to escape before she confiscates my iPhone. I am an international woman of mystery.

1:55 Walk to next meeting. After 5 hours in heels, forget that I am wearing heels. While speedwalking on uneven pavement. Step in hole, twist ankle, fall to knees. Fortunately fall is broken by my MacBook. Clearly, I am a clutz.

2:00 Meeting #2. Expect request to present. Say… something. A little more coherently. Still sweaty. Hopefully a little less moronic.

4:00 Cab ride to hotel. Change clothes. Cab ride to restaurant. I. Am. Exhausted. And a wimp.

5:15 Dinner at DelFrisco’s Steakhouse. Eat entirely too much of best steak, sides, and desserts in existence. I’m a glutton.

7:00 Watch the musical Wicked for the first time. LOVE it and get all weepy at the end. I am such an artsy fartsy baby.

10:00 Check email to see this from LC “Mom, your pocket called us. Please call again later.” Hm. That explains why my battery is at 10%. I am a tech GENIUS.

Receive text from Alex, our babysitter, that Abby is sick. Sign me up for the Neglectful Mother Club.

10:45 Return to hotel room, work out Abby’s treatment and plans for the next day. Check 47 emails. I will never conquer the world.

11:30 Fall into bed. Feel SOOOO tired. I am loving this trip, but I hope it doesn’t kill me.

Day 2 wasn’t half as crazy. Abby’s just got a cold. But I’m still Wiped. Out.

Wheeeee!

Hello to the Little People.

I hope you are having a adequate time with your puny little lives.

Me? But of course I am relaxing in a posh hotel room in Manhattan, the greatest city in the wohld.

I have been here only a few hours, but already I am feeling posh and fabulously wealthy. I have clearly gotten accustomed to the poshness and the beautifulitude to which I am accustomed.

***

Oh, who am I kidding?

Reality: this country girl is enjoyin the fayncee big bed and bathrobe and room service that she was given the chance to experience by a kind and generous host.

And Monday night I ate the best Italian meal that I had ever had. Ever ever ever.

Ever.

And I THINK I even used all the right silverware on the right foods. (But I’m not sure; which fork are you supposed to stir your coffee with?)

***

Hey, but speaking of Italian food, …

This post has nothing to do with Italian food.

Instead, I’m participating in a blog carnival hosted by the deep and inspiring bloggers who for some reason let me join them.

The lovely and wise Peter Pollock is hosting, and the word for this week is:

Remember.

Which is ironic, because remembering is something with which I have little expertise. So little that I decided it really makes more sense to focus more on what I’ve forgotten.

A much easier list to compile. But I still wanted help.

So I turned to Charlie, my memory counterpart. (Meaning, he remembers everything that I forget.) What followed was this conversation:

S: Hey, I think I’m gonna write a post about all the things I’ve forgotten.

C: [grins] You know, I bet I can help you with that list. Is this only recent stuff, or all-time?

S: I think all-time.

C: Hmm, that’s a long list. And you know what’s really funny?

S: What?

C: I can make up a bunch of things and you won’t even know whether I’m telling the truth or not.

S: You make a good point.

For some reason, it seemed better to do this list on my own. It’s certainly not comprehensive, but I’m afraid to ask Charlie to contribute. Here goes…

THINGS I’VE FORGOTTEN
A Sampling

My dentist appointment Monday. After getting a reminder call the previous Thursday. And making a return call on Friday to confirm. I remembered again when my phone rang Monday at 9:10 a.m. For my 9:00 appointment.

Where I put the garage door opener. Already checked the pantry and freezer; no dice. The garden shed is next.

Where I left my phone. Twice in one day last week. So completely that I had to call it. Both times.

My carry-on bag on the wrong side of airport security a couple years ago. Don’t judge me. I remembered ALL THREE kids.

My ATM PIN# after finally getting to the front of the line at an ATM in London. The PIN# I’ve had since 1994.

The money that I found this weekend in a wallet that I hadn’t used in a year. Almost enough to buy myself a coat here in NYC. Oh yeah, and also?

To buy a coat for NYC last week.

I’m sure I could go on. If I could remember any more. But this’ll have to be enough. Go visit Peter’s site to see all of the other blogs that have linked up to participate. I’m willing to bet that NONE of them is as scattered and random as this one.

As for my first full day in New York,

Today is filled with meetings (during which I intend to Tweet both discreetly and hilariously).

Then a Broadway show.

I am the luckiest girl in the WORLD.

We Interrupt this Post with an Important Announcement:

I wrote 1698 freakin words of my very first novel for the first day of NaNoWriMo!!!!

That is all. Please resume reading.

This here is a repost, since today I’m traveling to New York City.

Every time I say that in my head, it sounds like the cowboys in those old Pace Picante Sauce commercials. You know, THESE GUYS:

Is it just me?

Anyway, this post from last year seems perfectly timed. A year ago, I was whining about how much I had to do during the month of October, and some commenters very kindly complimented me on my time management skills.

Yeah.

Now y’all probably know me better by now. But back then, I needed something to convince them that I was NOT in fact Superwoman.

So fate brought me a story. I hope you like it.

I hate to burst your bubble, but … POP!
originally posted October 23, 2008 (Remix)

You need proof that I’m not Superwoman?

Girl would not do what I managed to do yesterday at Starbucks.

I made a quick stop right after my lunch date, since I was hurrying home to work for at least 30 minutes before getting kids at the bus stop.

At 1:30 there was no line and hardly anybody in the store. So they whipped up my java chippy deliciousness and handed it over. And I started powerwalking toward the door. The guy going out ahead of me was holding it open, so I picked up the pace.

(Do you do this too? Hurry to “help” someone help you, because you don’t want to be too much trouble?)

Besides walking fast, I was also trying to rip open my straw, hold my purse in my hands, juggle my phone, AND get out my keys. Something had to give. And something did: My precious frappuccino.

Remember how I said the store was almost empty? Almost is the key word. Right by the door, two businessmen were having coffee and shooting the breeze. And I was right behind one of them when the frapp dove out of my hand. In slow motion. (why do disasters alway happen in slo mo?)

I watched the cup slip, fall, and start to rotate. By the time it hit the floor, it was totally horizontal. With the lid side toward the businessmen.

Perhaps I did not mention that the guy closest to me had his sportscoat hanging on the back of his chair. But yes, yes he did. Thick chocolate chip mocha liquid (WITH whip, thank you) flew everywhere. Mostly it was confined to one area, though: the wall by the door, the floor, and this guy’s coat.

He was gracious, but I still felt terrible. It didn’t make me feel any better when the baristas calmly led me by the elbow to another table saying, “You sit right here. We’ll take care of it.”

As I watched them and Sportcoat Guy wiping chocolate off of his tweed jacket, I tried hard not to cry.

(The only thing that kept me together was imagining blogging about it. Y’all are good for my emotional well-being.)

His friend found it kinda funny — probably since he and all his clothes were dry. So I’m sure he was trying to make me and his friend laugh when he said,

“Dude, you’re lucky you hung your jacket on the back of your chair. Otherwise, you’d be SOAKED.”

About this time a barista brought me a fresh frappuccino on the house.

<Sob>

So I did what any Superwoman would do: I slunk out as quickly as I could and got in my car and cried.

Yes, I know I’m a role model for women everywhere.

Have a Happy and Safe Halloween!

Wow, I haven’t posted since Monday? So much for renewed efforts to blog more often…

I’ve been busy. Really. And about to get busier. So this is just a quick update:

The fall months are really full for us. Besides the normal holidays, we also celebrate the birthdays of all three of my kids.

This year, for reasons unknown to me but I believe known to God, we’ve added two other big events to the mix.

1

Next week, Charlie and I travel to New York City for a few days. We’re tagging along for John Maxwell’s Exchange: a leadership training tailored to leaders of large organizations. Small, intimate, NICE. We’re staying in nice hotels, doing cool stuff, taking in a couple shows, all for “work.”So of course, I’m really grateful for the opportunity to go along.

HOWEVER, it’s been a bit of an emotional crisis for me. You see, I haven’t been in the working world since 1999. A decade of sweatpants and cleaning up vomit have taken their toll, and I don’t really FEEL “professional” in any way. (Also? Styles and my SIZE have changed just a little.)

HEY! I HAVE A GREAT IDEA! What better way to jump back into the land of work than to TRAVEL TO NEW YORK CITY AND HANG OUT WITH HIGH-POWERED CEO’S IN RITZY SETTINGS IN DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN?!

Let’s just say I’m taking a REALLY big leap.

After prepping for one week and purchasing one entire work wardrobe, I’m feeling fairly well-prepared. But I’m still nervous.

2

Now, since I’m already WAY out of my comfort zone, I have another GREAT IDEA.

I’LL WRITE A NOVEL.

In 30 days.

Yes, I signed up for NaNoWriMo. That’s National Novel Writing Month for the unitiated. It’s this insane overly-hyped writing event where a bunch of lunatics from all over the country commit to (attempt to) write 50,000 words in 30 days.

It starts November 1.

As in NEXT WEEK. While I’m in New York City.

Then of course it continues for the weeks after I’m back home.

God has a TREMENDOUS sense of humor.

But I know I’m doing these things because he told me to, so they’re HIS PROBLEM.

And He loves me.

He has plans for me.

He wants the best for me.

He says I can do all things through him.

So this is me:

Or perhaps THIS is me:

At any rate, I REALLY want to blog my trip to New York. So I’m gonna try. But between being busy all day and trying to write at least 2,000 words a night, I can make no promises. Maybe I can at least upload pictures.

And now? I gotta go have lunch with a first-grader, shop for groceries, meet with my sitter to go over plans for taking care of kids and dogs next week, pick up kids from school, spend a few hours home with them and a full to-do list, then go to the middle school’s Halloween event.

Pray for me.

Actual conversation today between Charlie and me:

Charlie enters kitchen from his office. I shout to him from the living room:

“Your last tweet was on my account.”

“That means YOUR account is on my Tweetdeck on my iPhone,” he replies.

“Well, YEAH. It WAS on there before you let me get my OWN iPhone. But I thought I removed it. [pause] Ohhh, I DID remove the columns for my account and John’s. But our accounts are actually still there. For some reason it won’t let me delete them. See, if you push HERE as you’re Tweeting, it toggles between your account, mine, and JM’s. “

((Note: “John” and “JM” are John Maxwell, my social media client. I manage Maxwell’s Twitter account, which is why I have access. I’m not an impostor posing as John C Maxwell, Leadership Guru. At least as far as you know…)

“I guess I’ll just have to be careful. I’m glad I didn’t tweet that as John Maxwell.”

(”that” being an update on his visit to the doctor and prescription for cough medicine with codeine.)

“Um, yeah. That might’ve been awkward.”

“Since I tweeted as YOU, I know you can always make light of it.”

“Mm-hm.”

“Or you can post a snarky tweet making fun of what I did.”

“NO. I would NEVER do that.”

“You already have, haven’t you?”

“Yep.”

There’s just nothing better than a relationship wherein you can know and be fully known by someone. My husband knows I’m a mocker, and yet he loves me anyway.

Thanks Charlie. Now stay off of my Twitter.

***

P.S. Today (Monday) is Nick the Geek’s birthday! He’s my online youth pastor friend who blogs about blue-hair battles, homemade T-shirt guns, and the move of God in his students. Go visit him at My Experience As Youth Pastor and wish him a good day!

Happy Saturday!

Last night’s slumber party report: Fun was had by all, the craft looked like it was gonna be a #FAIL but SuperMom worked it out at the end, we remembered the cake and presents, my daughters only fought 3 times, and everyone was quiet before MIDNIGHT.

I deem it a SUCCESS.

The following is a video we watched in church last Sunday. I attend 12Stone in Lawrenceville, GA (The awesomest church on the planet), and we just started a lesson series on family life.

Ever heard the expression “ignoring the elephant in the room”? If not, you’ll probably understand it after watching:

Happy Weekend!

An unexamined tweet is not worth blogging.

Yeah, I know today’s the Twitter Ho-Down. And I have definitely succeeded at being a Twitter Ho this week. In fact, in the past 48 hours, I enjoyed some really fun-but-maybe-a-bit-disturbing-sometimes conversations on the Twitter. And that’s the problem with today’s post:

I’ve spent too much time playing on the Twitter to WRITE about the Twitter. And I just don’t have all day to write a post.

So I’ll just share some highlights:

I somehow crossed the 4000-follower threshold on Thursday. In spite of a spate of booger tweets.

My baseball knowledge was increased by @billycoffey and @sarahmsalter. And I am now a Yankee fan by default. (I had no choice; they threatened Twittercide.)

I am uber-trendy. On Thursday I tweeted this: “I never thought this day would come. But I did something today that I haven’t done since …1990. Ready? I. Pegged. My. Jeans.”

(Yes, they ARE back in style. Along with stirrup pants. Yes. They ARE. Ask  any teen or parent of a teen.)

I’m instantly cool because I am an expert jeans-pegger-upper. Turns out it’s just like riding a bike!

I am old. (See above highlight. I’ve lived to see the day when the fashions of my teen years came back around.)

I need to watch The Office, Seinfeld reruns, CSI, NCIS, Criminal Minds, and Psych. (But then how will I have time for So You Think You Can Dance? And The Next Iron Chef?)

It’s official: Phineas and Ferb is the number one recommended kids’ show by Twitter parents everywhere.

If you want an enthusiastic response on the Twitter, Tweets about dead things in garages and drinking decaf are always effective.

Nick the Geek (aka @PuriChristos) tried to make me think I was crazy on Tuesday. He’s also apparently a fan of Rick James.

That’s just a tiny taste of all the tantalizing Tweeting that’s been going on this week. If you’re considering following me, just be warned: I Tweeted 80 times. Yesterday.

(But you’d only see all of those if you followed the same people I do. Twitter is one giant chat room for me.)

***

Now to today’s agenda, or why I’m really too busy to be even writing this:

If you’ve been here since the time when nobody read this blog, you might remember that a year ago, I hosted a Spa-ctacular Spa Slumber Party for my daughter Hannah.

Well, because I’m either a VERY COOL MOM or a COMPLETE LUNATIC, I’m doing it again. TONIGHT. Then tomorrow, it’s LC’s party. At least I only have to clean the house once.

Pray for me.

And I might need a hug tomorrow.

Or chocolate.

And lots of caffeine. Yeah, lots.

And I think my husband should give me a backrub.

You getting this down?