The Party’s Over, Or Is It? (Part 2)

28 11 2011

funny graphs - Have Babies, ?, ProfitWhen I told my husband I was pregnant he looked as stunned as if I had confessed to being from the Planet Krypton and that my super power was dancing the rumba so fast I could turn back time.

It’s not that he didn’t want children. Turns out he was just afraid to have them. Apparently all the talks we’d had previously about one day spawning a family was, um, well, just talk. You see discussing a baby and actually having one are two different things altogether. Reality has a way of sobering you up. It’d been just the two of us for so long that our egocentric lifestyle (and steady stream of bountiful income) had become routine. And now he was worried that it would all change when a baby entered the picture.

As the compassionate wife, I thought he was just being stupid. Read the rest of this entry »





Living the High Life in Purgatory (Part 1)

21 11 2011

Back when America didn’t know it’s entire financial institution was a house of straw built on a pile of quicksand, I lived in a sleepy little town about a mile inland from San Diego County’s Moonlight Beach. I owned a nice home with my husband and made lots of money working as a big talker.

It was the early ‘90s so unbeknownst to us Wall Street and the banking industry were busy perfecting their little derivative magic trick—the one where the big reveal would be the eventual meltdown of both the financial and housing markets some 18 years later. But at the time the illusion made us believe prosperity was attainable even to the dumbest of chumps, and that poverty was about as fashionable as a beauty queen with B.O. and bucked teeth. As a result big businesses (thought they) had more money than they knew what to do with, and I quickly figured out that they liked to spend it on entertainers disguised as technical consultants. Read the rest of this entry »





Prada Bag or Diaper Bag? Which Goes Better With a Spit-up Stained Armani Gown?

18 11 2011

I’m a stand-up comic who learned about parenting the hard way; I became one. After 36 years of childless living spoiled me into believing happy hour was just a normal part of one’s daily commute, I moved to Utah (to ski everyday, of course) and within a year got pregnant. (Isn’t that what happens to any woman who moves to Utah?)

Before I knew it I had two young sons and suddenly sleep won out over midnight comedy shows. Juicy Juice replaced Grey Goose vodka (although they are good mixed), Prada bags gave way to diaper bags, and showers couldn’t last longer than a “Bob the Builder” video. When my boys got older vacations took a backseat to music lessons, and eventually school band instruments littered the house like empty beer bottles in a Notre Dame dorm over St. Paddy’s weekend. And for at least the first 10 years of my sons’ lives I felt compelled to clean up my language (sort of). Read the rest of this entry »








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