On Chafing

The time has come to buy new underwear. However, since having that cute baby and then losing the pregnancy weight, something has gone awry. All currently fashionable underwear is now made to go up my butt.

Bikini undies? Sure! If you like them up your butt. Tap pants? Sounds good, assuming you enjoy that extra material nestled up your butt. Boy shorts? Why waste effort walking around for 10 minutes? Just wedge them up your butt immediately so you can tug uncomfortably at your jeans for the next eight hours.

Listen, I’m already wearing shoes that make my feet bleed. The underwire on my bra is probably jabbing my ribs. You don’t want me any more irritated. It’s taking all my willpower not to cut someone. Introduce up-the-butt pants to this precarious scenario, and I can’t be held responsible. I also probably won’t be able to operate a motor vehicle.

Do you hear me, Universe? Take me to your comfortable yet stylish underwear! You drive.

Growing Pains

A few friends and I have been reading a book on wellness that suggests eight ways to improve your life. It says you should choose a few and run with them, so I decided on:

Meditation:
Me thinking about light flowing into my head, and then thinking how nice it would be to nap.

Visualization:
Me thinking about how well things are going, then wondering when disaster will strike.

Conscious eating:
Me conquering food allergies by doing a restricted diet for 21 days, then remembering that I have hives because I really like to eat the stuff I’m not supposed to have.

Doing Fun Activities:
Me doing things that make me happy.

For the record, doing fun things is better than denying yourself caffeine. Should you choose to follow this path, I’d recommend starting with the fun stuff and worrying about your gluten intake later.

I’ve decided to do one fun thing a day, and it turns out that fun stuff is awesome. Yesterday I went down to City Hall to celebrate gay and lesbian couples getting married. There was a huge crowd, and lots of happy tears, and much merriment. Added bonus: no one yelled ugly things at the newlyweds.

So you see, we’re all evolving as a team.

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Girl Talk

Alice and I talk business:

Alice: I think it’s adorable that you want some money for yourself. Maybe you want to buy yourself a special little treat without the Hubs knowing, and why shouldn’t you? Bravo, Mrs. Mason.

Me: Sometimes, when I’m feeling low, I just like to get myself a nice lipstick. Nothing pricey, just a little pick me up.

Alice: What? Whore.

Start Conference

So, my alarmingly capable husband Bryan Mason and his partner Jeff Veen are putting together a conference for people who want to launch their own start-ups. It’s called Start Conference, appropriately enough, and the speaker lineup is killer.

Also? It’s only $200 for the day, which is ludicrously cheap for something like this. Then again, I suppose it would be tough to expense a conference that teaches you how to successfully leave your job. Anyway, spaces won’t be available for long, so go have a look if you’re a company-starting type.

Listen up, Universe

Working in the coffee shop under a potted palm, I pause to brush the hair from my eyes. A dead bug falls onto my keyboard.

I gasp loudly, and yank my laptop up, inches away from my face, to examine the specimen more closely. Praises to all that is holy, it has wings, unlike the lice we too recently battled in our home.

But, may I just say, what the ever-loving hell, people? Did someone put Purina Bug Chow in my shampoo? I could go a very, very long time without finding another surprise insect on my premises.