When your pants don't fit...

Writing is subjective. So we've all heard, anyway. Along the way, I've learned some things. Some awesome, and some craptastic. In amidst this infinite wisdom I'm about to share, I think it's only fitting I divulge the fact that I've had a strange week. And when I say strange, I mean like WHAT-THE-EFF.

-Not all writers like to read a lot. This is true because I'm one of them. I read things that look good to me, regardless of hype, and I'm also the world's slowest reader. Mainly because I have a life.

-Not all agents are AMAZING. In fact, some of them blow. I've had some run ins over the last few months with the latter. They're not all sugar and spice, though Candyland would never bad mouth anyone (unless you push me too far; then I'll cut you)

-Not everything you write is good. So deflate your ego. On the flip side, not everything you write is bad, either. So pump up the jam.

-Not all bloggers are genuine. It's unfortunate, but true. I've only been blogging since January but I know who's for realz and who's for shows.

-Not all rejections should define you. No matter how hard it is, you HAVE to find a way to keep going. And as much as I want this to be bull, it's true. Even though I need to take my own advice.

-Not everyone will understand your need to write. The outside world usually sucks. They just don't get it. They'll call it a "hobby" or say "it can't be that hard to get a book published." These people should be removed from your Christmas lists.

We all have a different path, on a different journey. But what defines us is what we do with it. There's a reason not everyone gets published and a reason some people make it big and a reason my pants don't fit right (well, I didn't say they all had to be relevant). You have to make a choice.

Tell me friends, on your journey, whatever it may be, what defines you? Is it the amount of accomplishments or the amount of friends? Is it impressing the world, or impressing yourself? Is it squeezing into your [tight] jeans or buying a bigger pair (acceptance)?
Candyland. OUT.
P.S. In case you haven't been to the Candyland Store yet (click the banner at the top)...

Feel Me Up Friday: Frumpy-dumpy biscuit dropper

First of all, I'm totally giving all you I Heart Joy Like BR80: Part Two donors a standing 'O' (eww, not like that) because in just five days, I'm already about halfway to my goal. You all rock. Hard. If you haven't dug up your cushion monies to donate just $1 measly (for the chance to win $100 + concert tix), or scraped up enough to buy a sweet shirt, yet, I hope you'll find it in your heart to help the cause. I believe giving is contagious, and when you give, your heart is full. I don't care how lame that sounded either...

In honor of a FANTASMIC first week, a new shirt just for you (and Mr. Lion):

Now go wash your digits. Preferably with a >>insert a term relative to the disgusting word "moisturizing"<< soap. I like soft hands.

Random Fact: While grocery shopping yesterday, you might have noticed a frumpy girl in sweats with dirty-pony-tailed hair near the refrigerated biscuits. She may or may not have been struggling to hold a trashcan's worth of coupons in one hand while examining the price of said biscuits with the other. Whilst doing so, she also may or may not have knocked down the entire effing shelf full of biscuit cans. Those cans may or may not have rolled all over the floor whilst onlookers snickered and sneered...

Random Fact:  I have, in fact, fallen down the stairs a 2nd time since I last posted. Knocked a picture off the wall. Grace never was my strong suit.

WHHOOOAAA! That was great. Really. All this JOY has me feeling, as Jen would say, SPARKLY! Or maybe it was your soft hands. Whatevs.

Until Monday friends,  if you saw a poor, frumpy writer-type knock over all the canned biscuits, would you pretend you didn't see, help, or laugh your ass off?
Candyland+JOY. OUT.
P.S. New tees added to The Candyland Store. Click the banner at the top of the page to order. $5 from every JOY tee go to J2W and enter you in the contest.

If you wished for a hug...

To my bud:

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday to you.

Happy birthday DEAR LENNY,

Happy birthday to you.

Now close your eyes and make a wish...

If you wished for a virtual hug, you got it:)

If you wished for the BEST BIRTHDAY EVER, I hope you get that too.

No Candy-isms today, just a celebration of the coolest little dude---EVER<----that's you!

Tell me friends, have YOU wished Lenny Lee a happy ELEVENTH birthday today? And have you checked out the new 'JOY' CONTEST yet? Day three and already over $100 in donations from all you super rad peeps!

CANDYLAND LOVESLOVESLOVES LENNY LEE. OUT.

When whipped cream makes me cry

Yesterday...I cried over whipped cream.

Let me be clear: WHEN I ORDER A CAFE MOCHA, PUT THE F@CKING WHIPPED CREAM ON TOP OR I WILL CUT YOU.

Not really, but the Latina in me wants to rrrreeeaaallll bad. At $1.85/cup, I only want what I'm paying for. I feel a certain sting over the whipped cream debate because I use to work at this particular store and know how the eff it's suppose to be made. WITH WHIPPED CREAM.

*end rant*

It's funny how the smallest thing can mean everything. Especially when it happens at the exact wrong moment. It didn't help I was a walking zombie and literally blacked out in Kohl's. I wandered around the aisles for (what felt like) DAYS. By the time I'd gotten to the oh-so-spiritual hot chocolate+coffee, I wanted all that cream, in my mouth (that was not innuendo...maybe it was...hell if I know anymore).

I've broken the mocha down into what it means, for writers:

So now you see why I want my whipped cream...

Oh, and who's been romancing the fates on my behalf?

Whoever you are, your bribe money is in the mail...

Until tomorrow friends, which coffee stage are you currently drinking? And if you're not drinking coffee, are you enjoying your liquor with or without the whipped cream? Are you hungover (or wired)  from the process?


CANDYLAND+WHIPPED CREAM. OUT.
P.S. Check the I Heart Joy Like BR80: PART TWO Contest page DAILY for new additions including concert tix and coming soon--goods from the inspirer himself, BR80...

I *Heart* Joy Like BR80 2: Use your cushion monies to change the frickin' world

Back in July, I introduced you to I Heart Joy Like BR80. If you're not familiar with the story, or the lives just four quarters could change,

CLICK HERE 
AND HERE
AND HERE
AND FINALLY, HERE.

If you're tired of reading, I could babble on about whatever I want and you'd never know. Like how the hubs said "I wonder how many field mice a barn cat eats..." Ooohhh but you came for a contest? Alright then. I guess his random-isms can wait. This summer, we made a ripple in the water. This time, let's make a wave. Join me for class, won't you? A little math:

• If every one of you, my dear followers friends, can dig up enough loose change to equal $1, we will have raised $357 for women, children and families in need.
• If every one of you, my lovely followers friends, gives up one meal out this week to equal $5, we will have raised $1785 for women, children and families in need.
• If every one of you, my sweet followers friends, can spare $10, we will have raised $3570 for women, children and families in need.

I've made my goal $357, because I truly believe if we work together, $1 turns into a brand new beginning for the women, children and families of Ghana, West Africa. With that in mind...

INTRODUCING...

So you see, friends, there's always more ways to help people. Because we're all people, dudes. If you have any questions about anything, leave a comment or email me directly.

EDIT*****CONTEST ENDS CHRISTMAS EVE. 

Or if you're giving $1, DONATE HERE, then email proof of donation to me.
Or buy one of these (clicky clicky):

To all of you beautiful bloggers: Please spread the word! Add my banner to your page/link me/Tweet/MyBook/FaceSpace me. If you do, you'll have a permanent place in Candyland (eww, not like that).

To all of you writers, agents, editors, zoo keepers, Br80's, and plumbers: If you love what you do, and want to contribute something (anything), PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE email me. I'd love to add more prizes.

Until tomorrow, friends, I'm on my way to be the change with just $1. Who's with me?

Candyland Hearts Joy Like BR80. OUT.
"Faster my friends, the old world is behind you..."-Rise or Rust

More on my balls...

First order of biznass: Thanks for all your well wishes re: my balls (hehe).

Sincerely. I now know I must really take good care of my balls (hehe). The ones I lose, well, sucks for them (so she tells herself). Plus if you haven't noticed, I'm sort of the OBSESSIVE type. I mean, just a little. So if my balls (hehe) get lost or dropped, I'll just find a new one to fawn over. Until it's sick of me.

Sort of like this band you may have heard of. They're like my biggest ball  (hehe) aside from work, blog, family...wait...maybe those aren't in the right order...But they're the ball (hehe) that keeps me going.

Now that you've seen how well I take care of one of my balls (hehe), I think it's time for a little perspective from the hubs. Does he think I have what it takes to juggle so many effing balls (hehe)? Candyland is THAT CRAZY!<---preparing for global domination or public humiliation (either way, really)

If you can't see the video because you're reading from work or your effing iPhone (hubs), you're not missing much. In fact, this is probably one of my worst posts yet! Lucky you! Joking. Sort of. Not really. Apparently, I have way too many balls, I should share with the hubs and care for the rest carefully. Sounds like a lot of work....

Until tomorrow, friends, tell me...have you had enough of my balls yet? In case you haven't, feel free to order this hunk of sexxxaayy clothing from The Candyland Store:

Candyland. OUT.
P.S. Want the shirt but not my name? Get "(YOUR NAME) Has Balls" instead. Because we all have balls.

Balls to the wall, or nothing at all

Last night, I fell down the stairs. It f@cking hurt so I ran a hot bath. It was ice cold so I cried.

Rewind<<<<<<<

We all have bad days and yesterday can officially suck it. The birthday princess was a birthday nightmare and some things I've been working really hard on, fell through. I try to juggle a lot of different balls (hehe) because I like to need to stay busy. For my sanity. Most of those balls (hehe) have the potential to get a foot in the door or make a name for myself or (insert something big and impressive here).

I hate it when I drop my balls.

Whether it's my fault or someone else's, it doesn't matter to me. The end result is still the loss of a ball (hehe). And it still hurts to know I've lost said ball (hehe). And I wish I could pick the ball back up and start over, but I can't always do that. A couple of my balls are gone forever (hehe).

Completely lost? Yeah. Me-effing-too.

But Candyland always finds her way, somehow. It's like fumbling around in the dark for your pants after...err...umm...doing laundry. In the dark. Yes...

So tell me, friends, do you have a lot of balls (in the air) (hehe)? Has one slipped through your fingers you wish you could get back?

Candyland + Balls. OUT.

Feel Me Up Friday: When interviews go horribly wrong

If you thought I was @NewMedicine crazy before you should have seen me yesterday. EEK. Not only did Photo Finish Records (a division of uuhhh heeelllooo ATLANTIC RECORDS) put me in charge of the New Meds forum a couple months back, BUT, now I'm also in charge of the Facebook fan page and @NewMedsArmy Twitter. Um, hello! Talk about getting my daily fix! PFR knew just what I needed to ease the cold sweats and shaky hands. Now I HAVE to do things re: NM everyday. Whew...*pants uncontrollably*

So do me a solid dudes + dudettes: Like the Fbook page and give a follow. Need navigation? Sure...

New Medicine Fan Page

~AND~

Follow @NewMedsArmy on the Twit

It's becoming more and more clear that my novel writing path has taken a turn for the worse (at least temporarily) (unless you're reading "future agent") (in which case, my ass is glued to the writing chair), but those four blooming buds of talent and hottness have awakened the old promoter/publicist in me that (again), I thought had died off. So, sorry to be REPETITIVE. So, sorry to be REPETITIVE. Whoopsi. 

Anywho.

Random Fact: I walked around with a sticker on my ass pretty much all day. I went to the store. Out to lunch. OUT. OUT. OUT. No one said an effing word.

Random Fact: I admit. I've watched Brady's interview (on my sidebar)...well...let's just say the computer finally said "YOU KNOW WTF HE'S GOING TO SAY! LEAVE ME THE EFF ALONE, WOMAN!" Because of this, and the whole anniversary thingy, I thought it'd be fitting to do the same thing with the hubs but something went terribly wrong during production...

**Disclaimer: The hubs is, in fact, a BR80 fan**

The winner of Brady's current read, John Irving's A Widow for One Year is: JUDE!  

I have your email and will be contacting you as soon as I get my New Meds fix :)

Until tomorrow, friends, have you ever walked around with TP or stickers or food in your teeth and not had a single person tell you?

Candyland. OUT.

BAD CANDY

Ok, friends. Candyland  has a couple of  huge-ass apologies and one explanation to share. But first, if you haven't donated to the Out of the Darkness Walk yet, please think about giving just $1 to either of the names listed below. If you donate in my name, make sure your donation goes towards the BLOOMINGTON walk, as there are two I'd signed up for.

Though I surpassed my goal, it was a small goal and honestly I'd love to raise a little more. The walk is THIS SUNDAY, but donations are accepted through the end of the year. Just click the banner and type in one of our names. Every dollar makes a difference.

And a HUGE thank you to everyone's who's already donated in my name:
~Kelly Breakey
~Theresa Milstein
~Leigh Moore
~Susan Kaye Quinn
~DL Hammons
~Jessica Bell
~The Lee Family
~Gretchen Stelter
~Sharon Mayhew
~And TWO Anonymous donors...
~You could be the next to help save lives.

Now onto to why Candyland deserves a time-out.

Apology numero UNO: Not only have I been away in dreamland with @NewMedicine, but I've not commented on blogs as regularly as I use to. This is from absent/work/errands/daydreaming/life/hairwashing.

Regardless, theres no excuse. And I'm sorry.

Apology numero DOS (and an explanation): In yesterday's post, I did not mention the fact that it was, in fact, my anniversary. I've now been married 3 years (together six) and think my husband is pretty effing cool. However, some random stragglers might have question marks hovering re: my (pretend) love affair with New Medicine's Matt Brady.

I'm going to clear it up. Right. Now.

I'm in love with Brady Erik G (as you can see, I'm crystal clear...meh...). From the day we (me and hubs, not Brady) met, I  was free love, free spirit, no apologies...I was me. And you know what? He took me EXACTLY as I was. No questions asked.

The reason the hubs rocks is because he's never asked me to be anything other than me. He's very aware of my big heart and even more aware that it might latch onto to something or someone at any given time. He's not the jealous type, and if he were, we wouldn't be together. He also knows if a female M.B. comes around, he has free reign to crush away. That's how we roll.

(And PS, thank you to M.B. for being such a good sport through all my smut + gush + public consumption. And still talks to me after the fact (???) This is why I lovessss the man)

So, to Erik G: Happy belated (and very public) anniversary. Thank you for loving me EXACTLY the way I am (even if it means crushing on a bad ass, sweet as candy bass player). xoxo

Now, back to you all lovely faces.

To make my assiness up to you, I'm coming clean. There are a few photos I kept all to myself re: @NewMedicine's tour bus. A couple of them, will remain private (because I'm still still a sneaky minx). But being a writer, I have a major appreciation for a man who:
a) loves to read
b) reads intelligent, writerly novels
c) is not only a bad ass musician, but a compassionate, thoughtful, thinker-type

With that said, and in Brady's honor, I'll be giving away his current read to one lucky commenter of this post.

Yes, this is his bunk. Yes, it was hot in there.

From this day forward, I will do my bestest to show you all the love you've continued to show me day after day, through all my nonsense and then some.

So if you want to win this book, (well, not THIS exact book, but a copy of it), leave your email in the comments. If you don't want the book, I hope you'll still leave some comment <3 anyway. Winners drawn tomorrow.

So tell me friends...do you have any pictures you're holding out on (NONONO not those kind of pictures)? And what punishment should Candyland have for being so bad (keep it PG)? And arent both of these men completely incredible for putting up with my hijinks?<--yes.
Candyland. OUT.

I'll never leave you at a gas station

*CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY'S POST*

So the phone call...it was obvs Brady. I tried not to pee but only mostly succeeded. The hubs and I piled into the car and headed to the venue, where everything was wide open, outside. We parked next to some huge ass tour buses and only after holding my breath through a horrid port-a-potty-emergency-pee-fest, we stood in a line of people that led into the main "gate." And then my phone rang again. It was Brady (again). I tried not to pee. Again.

"Where are you?" he asked, walking closer.

"I see you!" I said, running towards him. Que the violins. HUGHUGHUG (drooldrooldrool). He pulled us from the line of curious faces.

"Follow me," he said. Anytime he asks me to follow him, uuuhhhh I'm so there...all the way to the New Medicine/Hail the Villain tour bus. And I KNOW I peed then. Let me first say, I've had this dream about a million times and never in my wildest did I ever think it would happen...with my husband at my side. Just kidding dear. I love you. But I'm not kidding. Oh wait, I am. No, that's not right...AWKWARD.

Anywho.

The small talk isn't important [to you] but it was pretty much everything to me. So much, I've written a little thank you note.

Dear future Mr. Candyland #2 Brady,
 Thank you for not calling the cops being so completely awesome. You pretty much rule. If I were a bus driver, I'd never EVER leave you at a gas station (side note: Dan, the guitarist, was actually left at a gas station).

Thankyouthankyouthankyou for taking my bribe to say Candyland was your favorite blogger everything. Until the next show (oh and I have a SPECIAL SURPRISE for the next local show. Mwuahahahaha.).
xoxo
~CLand

And because there's no simple way to explain what was one of the best days in Candyland [EVER], I'll [attempt to] go out in style and leave you with a picture montage.

So, friends...let me ask you...if you were invited to hang on your favorite band's tour bus, who would it be? Would you pee too?
(100% Brady Approved) Candyland. OUT.

If I were a hash brown, I'd have it made...

First of all, please excuse the freakin' lousy ass grammar and punctuation in yesterday's post. And also, this post. Candyland does not do well on little sleep and after yesterday's insane in the membrane trip, I'm all kinds of crazy.

A few of you may already know about my little secret, because I did nothing short of shouting it from the rooftops all over the web last night. I'm now going to attempt to humor you with my mad suspense skills.
*Annnnndddd scene*

The phone rings. I throw my eyes to the blinking screen and see his name. My heart thrashes against my chest as I grab for the shiny, metal sides but the sweat thickening my palm sends the phone flying into the air. I manage to pull it from the floor and direct a gentle stream of air over the dust. I pull a breath, close my eyes and press the phone to my ear.

"Brady?" I ask.

*End Scene*
TO BE CONTINUED...


So, friends, there's obvs  a HELLUVA lot more to the story but I'm going to make you work for it. First, a speedy six-question interview with New Medicine's Matt Brady. (And you're probably wondering how I went from phone call to interview...mmm hmm...I'm sneaky)...

Until tomorrow, friends, if you want me to fill you in on my super secret concert experience, can you tell me something ( a paragraph or sentence) that makes me BEG for more?
BradysfavoritebloggerCandyland. OUT.

Feel me up Friday: No, I'm NOT on a diet. Mind your business.

What a week.

Between phlegm, snot, and other miscellaneous bodily excrements, I'm sosososo ready for the weekend to begin. I won't bore you with the details, but let's see if you can guess what's going on, with a few clues.
Clue #1 Temporary Tats
Clue #2 New Medicine
Clue #3 7 Hours
Clue #4 Cupcakes

If you haven't guessed by now, I'm obviously going to get temporary tats by New Medicine, for 7 hours, while Brady feeds me cake in the form of a cup. No, that's not right. I'm going to feed New Medicine cupcakes for 7 hours while wearing temporary tats? Nonono. Side note: The offspring is torn. She literally can't choose which New Medicine hottie to root for...

Okokokokokok....so she has her mother's indecisive gene....though my choice is crystal clear:)

And what's really going on this weekend?
~Offspring's rock-themed 4th b-day party = Tats and cupcakes.
~Last show of the Rockstar Energy Uproar Tour = A 7 hour drive to see my boys of New Meds (did I mention how much I <3 them for ALWAYS putting Candyland on the list?) and it also happens to be a certain anniversary of a certain wedding date, so yeah. Today will be short and sweet.


Random Fact: I enjoy several Cafe Mochas from Tim Horton's/week. I get a medium with FOUR SPLENDA and EXTRA WHIPPED CREAM....Now, I've done the math and something doesn't add up here...And don't even get me started on when they forget the whipped cream. Do I look like I need to save a few hundred calories?.....Mind your business and make my mocha with 4 SPLENDA + EXTRA WHIPPED CREAM [please].

Random Fact: I am addicted to smelly, old man medicines like Icy Hot and Vicks. I don't just use them to coax my lover in to bed at night with my sexy scents or when I'm sore and sick, but every night. I like to feel the sting on my skin! Talk about weird...

I'm not sure if it's you, or me, but my mind is elsewhere. Maybe it's because I have too much to do before the offspring's party tomorrow, but I'm thinking it has more to do with these dudes right heeya (here we come WI):

So tell me friends, what does your nightly ritual consist of? Hexing? Wine? Adult movies? Tell me!
Candyland <3's BR80. OUT.