I can’t remember who it was that said ‘life is too short to stuff a mushroom,’ but I do know that she’s my soul sister. Oh, and that isn’t just because I detest mushrooms. It’s because she recognized there are things in her life worth taking the time to do and others that just aren’t ever going to be important to her, and that it’s okay to just say no to those things.

We all pile stress on ourselves. It’s part of the human condition. Left to our own devices, it’s easy to get caught up in an eternal hamster wheel of worry about things that aren’t all that important in the longrun.

This isn’t to say by any means that there aren’t things worth spending time and care over. There are. The key is to know which things you do care about putting that effort into, and which ones you can safely ignore or slide by on.

So what are some mushrooms I won’t be stuffing? Here’s a list of things I’ve decided my life is too short to include:

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Ah my friends, my friends. You do me proud once again. Last week, I presented you with this slightly surreal image:

and you came back swinging with twelve – count ‘em twelve – hilarious captions.

You did not make this decision easy for me at all. You’re not those kinds of girls. In the end, though, I had to go with the snarktastically fabulous TeleriB for coming up with the best not-quite-swear term I’ve heard since Bill Murray uttered the deathless line “Mother pus bucket! Nobody steps on a church in my town!”

So what did TeleriB say? Why, this:

“Outer Loop in Maryland, on the brakes from the Baltimore-Washington Parkway to College Park. US 1 North in College Park, we’re having some delays and HOLY CHEETOS, LISA, YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE THIS ONE!”

Congratulations, TeleriB, and thanks to everyone who played.

Although I love Texas with all my (blackened) heart, with all my soul (such as it is), with all my mind (again, such as it is) and with all my strength (great with lower body, not so much when it comes to climbing the rope) I miss cherry blossom season in Washington D.C. like a pain.

Thankfully the fine folks at the National Park Service have set up the Cherry Blossom cam!

Yay! Cherry blossoms!

Pink and red together? Think about it!

It is Friday! Francesca wants you to think: When was the last time you danced?

It has been too long!

This weekend, Francesca wants you to dance. Even if it just means putting your favorite CD into the player and swaying or boogey-ing to your favorite jazz, classical, rock or pop.

Every body dance!

Video hat tip: Big Fat DealDance! Dance! Dance!

xoxo

Francesca says: If you are not in the habit already, please do a breast self-exam today! It only takes a minute!

It may also be time to have a mammography. Are you over 40? Has a year passed since your last mammography? Don’t delay, schedule today!

Francesca hath spoken!

xoxo

To my Racktacular Sisters,

Can we talk about cleavage? Because I feel we need to talk about cleavage.

Y’all need to put that mess away.

Yeah.
Now I don’t mean ALL of it, just you know…if it looks like a small child is full-parade mooning me from out of your sweater, that officially qualifies as a Festival of Oversharing and I do not need to see it.

Let’s think about the iceberg. The iceberg is a powerful force of nature. They float and sailors spend a lot of time looking out for them. The same can be said for cleavage.

Icebergs, however, only ever expose 1/10th of their surface area. Do you see where I’m going here, ladies?

BE THAT ICEBERG.

This? This should be you.
It’s not like I’m against cleavage. It’s a natural treasure and I deploy it myself to great effect. The era of big girls in muumuus is over –except where culturally appropriate– and I have the sort of driving record only an $80 bra can achieve.  I also realize that if you’re a petite-framed girl with ginormous jugs, there’s just no hiding your lightbulbs under a bushel basket, so it’s definitely a sliding scale.

BUT we all know that there is such thing as Too Much and, okay, I’m just going to say it:

That much cleavage is for ugly girls.

I know, I know, “Blah blah blah it’s my body I’ll show what I want/ you’re not the boss of me/why should I listen to Some Internet Chick?” Whatever. I don’t care. You don’t have to listen to me. You don’t have to bathe everyday either, but the world is a sweeter smelling place when you do.

Aside from miles and miles of mams just looking trashy and low rent, my theory is:  if you feel the need to draw attention away from your face THAT badly you either feel ugly or in fact ARE ugly.

Now, since Plumcake doesn’t DO ugly (at least not on the outside, where it counts), and like attracts like, it stands to reason that none of you fine folks reading this are double-bag uggos. So the only option that occurs to me is that you want people to look at your breasts as opposed to any other part of your body.

Well, what’s up with that?

Breasts have limited capabilities of expressing emotion. It’s pretty much “Hello!” “Brrr!” and “Perhaps bra burning was in retrospect not such a great idea” and that’s about it. So why would you have someone look there first instead of at your face, which –unless you’ve had it shot up with the bo’ — is almost guaranteed to express more emotion, reveal more of who you truly are?

Just some food for though.

Francesca says: Now that you have a new toothbrush, is it time to see a dentist? When was your last regular cleaning and teeths checkup? Call right now to make an appointment!

She also says: When you are done with your teeths cleaning, go right away to the secretary to schedule the next one in six months. That way, you do not have to remember to call in half a year.

xoxo