Some people lie,
and some people don't
Some people try,
and others just won't
Well Amy don't lie,
but she likes to tell stories.
about chocolate and pie
and what makes her horny.
Okay, that's not right.
She's the one with the boys
who get into fights
with their lunches for joy.
She's the one who shares
about pit stops for kids,
because she cares
where your kid takes a whiz.
So thank Amy with
a visit or two
or I will get miffed
and drop kick you fool!
Spend a few moments with my girl Amy, and then, when you're all done, you can watch the video to see who was crowned Blog Dawg of the Year in the first ever Fugly Face Photo Contest.
And, I know whow ya'll like to get outta watching the videos, but you have to watch it if you wanna know who won; or you have to count up all 103 votes on your own.
I'm evil, aren't I?!
So today, I’ve been invited to be parenting By dummies’ ifriend, and don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to be here, but I’m a bit intimidated, too. If you hadn’t noticed, PBD is one cool chick. Like, first-girl-in-junior-high-to-
not-only-get-a-bra-but-learn-that-Flashdance-trick-of-removing-it-through-her-ripped-tee-sleeves cool. And as you’ll learn, I’m…not. Just never came naturally to me, you know? Like hats. I could never wear hats, but my sister could. Effortlessly. She even pulled off those big bowed headband numbers.
I digress, but yeah, being an ifriend here at PBD is pretty much like getting invited to Jennifer Cascas’ 8th grade boy-girl party all over again. That time, I ended up standing in the corner repeatedly flipping through a back issue of Redbook Jennifer’s mom had left on the end table of the couch so I’d look all preoccupied and busy and not at all awkward, and it’s true: I learned loads about summer-time smoothies that make a splash, but this time, I’m determined to do better. Nobody puts Baby in a corner.
So this is me, front and center. Doing awkward things. (Imagine Tina Fey’s Liz Lemon, but not as successful. Or as funny. Or on TV. Or fictional. What the what?) My point is, I’m going to be proactive. In the event you click over to Never-True Tales and take a look around, I want to make sure you and I are properly acquainted. To that end, I’ve compiled a short list of FAQs.
1. So Amy, who the heck are you, anyway? Where ya from? What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?
How nice of you to ask. Most days, I don’t really know who I am, to be honest, which makes me just about like everybody else. I’m a wife, for starters, and I begin with that because for me, marriage came before most everything else worth mentioning: before the career, before the kids, before the blogging and the writing. Yep, I married young. It’s part of who I am. I’m the mother of three pretty awesome boys. I love having boys; I’m the first to admit I’d have no idea what to do with a girl…or her hair. Just thinking about all those clips and bands and scrunchies (do they still make scrunchies?) causes me to break out in a sweat.
Right now, I have about four jobs, none of which I’m paid for (much). I’m a savvy businesswoman that way. I’m deeply involved in a lifelong love affair with the outdoors; I’m a Search and Rescue volunteer, I’m a wilderness EMT, I’m a skier, I’m a runner. I’m an editor, or at least I was, pre-kids. Oh, and I’m from Oregon. It’s beautiful here. You’d love it.
Lastly: Coldstone Creamery’s cake batter ice cream with dark chocolate shavings and fresh blackberries. That’s the best flavor of ice cream ever invented (by me, God‘s truth).
2. Speaking of which, what’s up with writing about things that are ‘never true’?
The Never-True Tales are in fact, always true. The name of the blog was inspired by my youngest son Toby, who used to tell long, impossibly nonsensical stories in which he was always super-something: super strong, super smart, super speedy, super-more-amazing-than-his-brothers. In hindsight, he may have had an inferiority complex of some sort.
3. So, what do you have on offer over at NTT? Contests? Free stuff? What? Gimme.
Erm, not much in the freebie department, sadly. Ditto on lots of ads and promos. I figure I’ll sell out when I’m good and ready (like when someone wants to send my family to Disney World), but in the meantime, I only host giveaways when there’s something too tempting for me to pass up. Like cookies. Every Friday, I host Won’t You Be My Neighbor, for which I have awesome guests like PBD. Every so often, I revive a series called Open Letter To…Tuesday, in which I write an open letter of complaint or apology to the subject of my choosing. It all began when Toby beat up a Subway sandwich under the bleachers of a ball game. But day-in, and day-out, it’s pretty much WYSIWYG (shout out to all you design-types out there). What you see is what you get: (hopefully solid) writing. Memoir. Anecdotes to which I hope you can relate. Lots of questions. Very few answers.
4. You talk a lot about query letters and outlines and word counts. Are you a published author or something?
No, I’m not, but thanks for bringing it up. That smarts. Seriously, I do publish poetry on occasion, and I also write fiction (short stories and novels). I’m constantly in a latest edit of one thing or another, and so yeah, you’ll occasionally hear me sobbing quietly to myself about a particularly stubborn paragraph or the latest rejection. I try to keep it down.
5. Don’t you have another blog, too? I swear I’ve seen pictures of these same kids on travel forums while I was endlessly researching spring break fares.
Why yes, thanks for asking. I have a travel site called Pitstops For Kids. I’m quite fond of it, actually. Its purpose is to provide parent reviews of places to stop and play (or stay) along major interstates and in airports while traveling as a family…you know, to alleviate the horror of “Are we there yet? Are we there yet? How about now? Now? NOW?” I hope you’ll stop by!
6. Your blog is ok, I guess, but can you recommend others? What makes for a good blog? Any deal-breakers?
There are as many good blogs as there are tastes in blogs.There are many I love, all for different reasons. Some inspire me with the written language, some teach me how to bake cinnamon rolls. Others just make me laugh. Generally, you'll find my favorites on my blog roll (which I frequently swap out to keep the list manageable). My personal deal-breakers are few: if you have something worth saying, I'll listen. That said, if you can't remember when to use there/they're/their, or routinely use its/it's interchangeably, I will move on. Call me a snob, but it can't be helped.
7. Wow, the more I get to know you, the more intellectual and literary and generally amazing you seem to be! (Haha) Surely you have some vices?
Well, I bite my nails. And really have a hard time watching my mouth. My kids throw up on the living room rug and talk back and mortally embarrass me at church just like yours do. Probably worse. Luckily for you, I spill all about it. I follow certain TV series like some people follow baseball or NASCAR…which is to say, obsessively. And I have my guilty pleasures: coughTwilightcough. You don’t fall farther from grace than that. (Especially if you hold an English Lit degree.) You won’t catch me talking about it at Never-True Tales, though, unless I’m recounting my run-in with the elderly over a paperback copy in Goodwill (and I do mean run-in) or writing a letter of complaint to Summit Entertainment. Sometimes I get overly worked up over the environment, but I have a column for that, so you’re usually safe. In short, I tend to find causes or series or ideas to get excited about from time to time, but I work very hard to contain that excitement, like a puppy trying not to piddle all over the carpet. It can be a struggle.
And wow, I’m going to leave you with that image. Told you this would be awkward. Anyway, many thanks to Amanda for having me here! I’d be honored to be her friend any day!
And here is the moment you all (aka the 8 entrants and the people they forced to vote for them) have been waiting for.
Only, I have to warn you about something...
The soundtrack is pretty ADULT ONLY (so don't play it while your kids are in the room!).
There are a coupla F-bomb in their that I somehow forgot about. Seriously, I noticed cursing in songs in the 90s about as often as I noticed the pain on the walls.
You've been officially warned so please don't leave in comments about how morally corrupt I am. Never said I wasn't:)
P.S. Wanna win and EXTRA ENTRY in my current giveaway? Watch the video & leave a comment congratulating the winner!
1 day ago