On Friday, I dipped 74 red velvet cake balls, and then I took those cake balls to an adult toy party if you know what I’m saying and I think you do.
Do you want to know what I purchased at that party? (Seven people just clicked away and might not ever return.) I bought this oil spray stuff (called Body Dew, and be warned that if you Google Body Dew, you might be led to the adult toy site! I just warned you!) that you spray on immediately after a shower and it smells good (because it’s filled with pheromones, naturally) and it keeps your skin soft and winter is coming and winter means dry skin. Body Dew!
This morning I sprayed myself with Body Dew, I participated (passively) in my annual mammogram, and then I went to Trader Joe’s to purchase chia seeds, roasted flax seeds, agave nectar, and jojoba oil because we are becoming the stinky hippies that we used to make fun of. (I also purchased a cinnamon whisk. I have no idea what I’m doing.) Anyway, fifteen people followed me home from Trader Joe’s. Three of them just wanted to see if I live in a hut fashioned out of patchouli leaves. The remaining dozen are wandering around the house asking me to make out with them, and they have no idea why—because a semi-androgynous 42-year-old me clomping about in ill-fitting jeans and Birkenstocks is not normally the chosen brew of monkey love. (I like to dabble in challenging the minds of those who think they crush on The Lovelies.)
And the thing is, I know you want me to talk more about the toy party, but I can’t. Because I took a pretend vow. Just one thing: I can now say that I’ve seen someone I previously knew only on a professional level (can you tell how careful I’m being right now?) standing in front of a crowd holding a simulated organ (not the kind that plays music. Rest in peace, Ernie Hays.) up to her forehead, and for whatever reason, it seemed Okay.
When I was 18 years old, one of my very favorite people gave me a copy of Illusions by Richard Bach. That book came to me at exactly the right time, which always jazzes me to no end. In Illusions, Richard Bach wrote, “Every person, all the events of your life are there because you have drawn them there. What you choose to do with them is up to you.” Clearly, on Friday evening I chose to have a highly-respected professional acquaintance enter my extended social circle and put a fake penis on her head.
17 thoughts on ““In order to live free and happily, you must sacrifice boredom.””
My friends have had “those parties” but I never get invited, and I don’t know why.. I might want to purchase some body dew or a face massager… I feel so left out.
MP, I should have an online party. (I would have it at my house, but no one is ever invited to my house.) If I do, your name will be the first one on the list!
Yeah for breast health! (Do I need to clarify that I mean the mammogram?)
I remember the lady at the party I went to holding one of those up to her face. It had something to do with sinuses if I remember right; but I think my brain blocked it out.
never. NEVER. EVER… no way… nope. Not unless everyone wore paper bags over their heads… and in some cases I’d insist some of them wore plastic bags over their heads… no, I changed my mind… NEVER
I fell into the cinnamon broom trap also. Smells so good yet looks so silly sitting on my counter.
I am not reading this post. Nope. Can’t see a thing with my hands over my eyes like this. But wait…I think I smell something. Something very….appealing.
(Adding “Cinnamon whisk?” to my list for next run to TJs)
I’ve never heard of those parties! I’m sure I’d be the first person who ever died from blushing, but I’d still like to go! (When I had my baby I still wasn’t exactly sure where they came from and when the nurses came to give me an enema I had no idea what they were talking about!)
Now, I get a mammogram every year without fail and encourage everyone who should to get one, too. But I have to say it does hurt–but only for a few seconds and it’s worth the relief when you get that letter saying you’re free and clear. (I’m a 42D.)
I always get those cinnamon whisk broom thingies. Why?
I have no idea what I’m doing. Ever.
Hah! Richard Bach. Fake penis antics. I feel like choosing that right now. Let’s see how that works out. I CHOOSE EVERYONE FROLICKING WITH MOCK UP RUBBER INTIMATE BODY PARTS.
I’ll get back to you on whether it works.
This is the second blog post I’ve read today talking about “simulated organs”.
And what the feck is a cinnamon whisk?
WHAT IS HAPPENING???
I love that line.
I was going to say something about needing some of that pheromone spray for myself, but then I read the third paragraph and the idea of attracting hordes instead of just one, scared the beejesus out of me.
I didn’t think there was anything too shocking about any of that, but of course some things are more relaxed here in Australia. I read to the end only because I knew your *other* loyal readers would make amusing comments. Bingo. So nice to be right every now & again. Cinnamon whisks indeed!
One of my friends had one of those parties. It was fun. Shocking….yes, but fun. Some of the women there had been married a loooonngg time. Who am I to judge their need to spice it up? Good for you for going! I never have people over either, my house is too small.
Your mention of chia seeds made me think of this…
Oh, that looks like something that’s automatically generated by a sinister search engine designed to sell products but actually, it’s just me making a personal plug for a vegan, non-soy based protein powder. I read in a previous post that you’re having vegan days and this makes a great shake…44% of your daily protein needs in one scoop. I usually just use half though.
I don’t use it straight. I mix it in with my smoothies…
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