* Having casual sex at summer camp when you were a teenager. Because by the time you got home to your boyfriend, you were a virgin again. I think it has something to do with velocity and altitude times pi.
* Wishing you had a maid. But a white maid, because you aren't a racist. Okay, wishing you had a wealthy, white man maid.
* Writing shit about someone and mistakenly posting it on your FB wall because you were drunk.
* Eating food off of your kid's plate. The revulsion factor of eating their booger-laden leftovers cancels out the calories.
* Eating while standing over the garbage can.
* Having sex while standing over the garbage can.
* Faking an orgasm because "Project Runway" is going to be on in 10 minutes and you are nowhere close.
* Telling your husband that that "Project Runway" is going to be on in 10 minutes when, in fact, it's on tomorrow night.
* Telling your young child he has a fever and can't go on the school field trip when he is perfectly healthy, because you signed up to be a driver for the trip and now you don't want to go because it is finally sunny and your new Self magazine just arrived and you really want to lay out in the backyard sun and read it. Because, honestly, what do kids really learn at museums?
* Continuing to blame all your recent space-out's and fuck-up's on the flu you had three weeks ago. Or on the 1994 earthquake in LA. Or on your dad's Alzehimer's. Or on the Holocaust.
* Hoping Valerie Bertinelli gains all the weight back. She's just too fucking pleased with herself.
* Not going back to clean up the barf (yours) you left on a neighbor's lawn when you were cleaning diarrhea (Molly's) up from the same spot. But making that "I'll be right back" gesture at the neighbor who is watching through the window.
* Secretly switching Robin's morning coffee to decaf when you are pissed at him and want him to have a headache all day. And then, when you confess in a fit of honesty, promise to never do it again. And then you do it again.
* Using a shitload of butter in the rice and telling everyone that it only has half a teaspoon of olive oil.
* Sending your sick young child to school because it is finally sunny and your new Self magazine just arrived and you really want to be alone and lay out in the backyard sun and read it. Because, honestly, what do kids really learn at school?
* sneaking in shameless, self-serving requests that you tell your friends about this blog because everyone thinks you write it out of love, but really, you totally want to make money off it one of these days before you die of old age and poisonous envy of others good fortune.