I have stuff to talk about.
“What stuff?” you ask. This stuff:
Marriage – Once, I refused to make hanky panky with my husband because his parents were visiting. I clutched my pajamas tightly to my chest as I hissed, “They’re right there,” frantically pointing to the next bedroom.
Lifestyle – This morning I worked out with my therapist pal, Annie, in her garage. She’s not my therapist, rather my pal who happens to be a shrink. (However, I do try to weasel free therapy out of her whenever I can get away with it.) When we finished the workout, gasping on her garage floor and sucking water bottles, we got up and went on a walk with my dog and discussed life. We do this every Friday. On most of the walks, I cry. The point is, to keep up a nice lifestyle you should have friends with whom you can cry on the Nicholson Hike and Bike Trail in the middle of Houston during rush hour.
Jesus – I’m just going to say it. I judge adults when they only drop three dollars in the offering plate. I’m all, “You know good and well you earned more than thirty bucks this week,” in my head as quietly I pass the plate. There is a reason Jesus Christ had to die ladies and gentlemen and her name is Christina Ledbetter. It is nice to meet you. (Plus, the whole ten percent thing was so Old Testament, right?)
Pet Ownership – A couple of years ago, when my husband and I had some friends over for dinner, I noticed my handsome Labradoodle sitting in the corner facing the wall. “What’s wrong, Cowboy?” I asked, all concerned. My pal Annie’s husband, Anthony, goes, “I can’t believe he’s still there! I told him to sit and stay like five minutes ago!” Anthony is no longer allowed to speak to my pets.
Health and Beauty – I have this trick. Before big events, I use EVERY single skin care product I own. I call it the One Two Three Punch My Face. I slather on a mask, then I exfoliate with a scrub, and after that I wash it and layer on all the free samples of skin care products I’ve collected over the months. The whole process takes like two hours and makes me feel glamorous.
Other Stuff – Speaking of Glamour…I’ve been a subscriber of Glamour Magazine for a solid decade now. Somehow, though I literally have not paid a dime to Glamour in the past five years, they keep showing up in my post box. Recently, I have decided I no longer love Glamour Magazine. Last month they put twelve-year-old boys without armpit hair on the cover. Plus, they keep making me feel like garbage with all their “What Men Really Want in Bed” quizzes where they tell me I should be wearing Spider-Man costumes and stuff for my man and then in the next sentence they’re like, “But men really just want you natural!” I can’t keep up.
So what I’m saying, people, is that we may have a lot to discuss here, no? Can you relate to any of this chatter? If so, let me know, and then we can go cry on the Nicholson Bike Trail together.
Categories: This and That