Tag Archives: brene brown

When You Find Out the Truth About Your Besties

Last week, I wrote about having MABFs (Move-a-body-friends): peeps who would help you move a body, no questions asked.  I learned some pretty interesting things while assessing where a couple of my “besties” really stood.

In fact, I’m a bit concerned one of my nearest and dearest is currently scared to be alone with me. I guess that’s what you get for asking someone to be your accomplice to murder …

Me: Hey Susan, would you move a body for me … no questions asked?

Susan: Before I answer, is this something that will come back to bite me?

Me: Um, let’s hope not.

Susan: It depends on who. If it was Mark, I’d help you.

Either it’s human nature to assume it’s the hubby or my friends really don’t like Mark very much.

Susan: If it was someone random, I’d have to ask questions.

Me: Like?

Susan: Like, was it an accident? Was it self defense? Could we bring along another person?

Me: Why, you don’t think we could lift a body alone?

Susan: No, I wouldn’t want you to turn on ME!

Wow, I thought it went poorly with the last person I asked.  Now, my college roommate who’s known me for like, ever, would want some protection?

Me: After 20 years, I’m thinking I should start branching out.

Both of us were laughing about her distrust in me and fear that I may murder her — hahahah, when this happened FOR REAL:

As she watched me cross the street to go to my car,  a gust of wind blew my dress fully up to my ears.  Stupid trapeze dresses! We’re talking full view of thong, with my hands full and no way to maneuver to hold it down, other than to completely bend over to place my stuff on the street, which I was NOT about to consider.

I stared at her from my frozen position, in utter shock that she wasn’t rushing to help, but rather standing on the curb laughing. Ahem, laughing doesn’t describe what she was doing — she was in such hysterics that she could barely breathe.  “When you start choking over there, just know, I won’t give you CPR!”

I mean we JUST had a conversation about whether she would move a dead body for me?! I think this IS the definition of irony, no?

Still laughing, she came into the street and removed my computer from my arms.

Susan: What? I told you I’d move a body for you!

Me: Oh, I know where we stand. You’d help me move it, but if I tripped over it, you’d just point and laugh. Not cool Susan, if we had a “Best Friend” charm, I’d ask for your half back.

MABFs are TOTALLY overrated!

Do you Have a Move-a-Body Friend?

At a conference I attended earlier this year I heard the amazing Brene Brown, give a speech about, move-a-body-friends, (MABFs): People you could call in the middle of the night to come over and dispose of a body, no questions asked.

At first I thought, well, who of my friends has the right girth and strength to take on such a task? Next I thought, who will I have to “off” to test that my supposed “Move a Body” friends will follow through?  Then it dawned on me, Brene was simply speaking metaphorically, and I put down the knife.

I didn’t stop there, I mean, I did put down the knife, but I thought I’d check with one of my besties to see if she would move a body for me, or at least share one of those “Best Friend” charms with me.

Me: Hey.

Possible MABF: Hi. What’s up

Me: I just wanted to see if you would move a body for me?

MABF: Wait, say that again?

Me: Would you move a body for me?

MABF: Move one, like in Desperate Housewives?

Me: Yep.

MABF: How did it die?

Me: Does that matter?

MABF: Well, did you kill it on purpose?  Look, if it was Mark, I would do it, obviously, but other than that, I’d want to know if it was an accident.

How quickly we assume it’s the husband?

Me: Fine, let’s say it was on purpose? Let’s say Mark made that weird chewing sound he makes when he eats bagels, and I just couldn’t take it anymore, so I beat him with the cream cheese container.

MABF: Really, that’s your weapon of choice, cream cheese?

Me: I’m assuming it would be in the heat of the moment, and that would be the nearest thing.

MABF: Do you have any idea how long it would take to kill someone with a plastic container? I don’t know if this is a well thought out plan.

Me: I’m NOT MAKING A PLAN, I’m just assessing the level of our friendship!

MABF: Well, what condition is the body in; is it all mangled? I have a weak stomach, you know.

Me: I just told you I’d beat him with a cream cheese container, I don’t think mangling will be involved.  Maybe some curdling, if we let him sit too long.  I want you to know I’m starting to rethink our friendship.

MABF: Why do we have to move it?  Couldn’t we just say it was self defense?

Me: Fine, but in that scenario you’d have to rough me up to make it look real.

MABF: Yeah, I could do that.

Me: I feel like you answered that so effortlessly and yet, the rest of this pow-wow isn’t going the way I’d hoped.

MABF: Look, I wouldn’t rule the whole disposal thing out, I’d just have to know a little more.

Me: Is that your way of saying you’d be up for the conversation?

MABF: Would it go like this, “Hey Tracey, what did you get at Saks yesterday?  What are you making for dinner?  What should I do with the body in my kitchen?”

Me: Yes … but frankly, I wouldn’t care what you’re making for dinner.

MABF: Then sure why not? Would you have extra bagels?

Me: Yep.

MABF: I’m in. So, what are you doing for breakfast, I’m hungry.

As it turns out, I do have an MABF; a meticulous, crafty one, who’s willing to beat me up, if necessary. I’m so lucky!

What crazy stuff have you done for your  MABFs? I’m making a list for next week’s article.

I’ll start — I’ve jumped in a pool in a beautiful silk dress because an MABF jumped in at the end of her 40th birthday party in a fun attempt to reclaim youth or maybe she was just super drunk, but I thought she shouldn’t be in there celebrating alone.

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How I Overcame my Fears and Learned that Virtual Friends are Even Sexier in Person

This is for anyone who’s been somewhere alone and had to overcome fear of being too shy, too lame, or like my fear: turning into an awkward stand-up comic and ultimately offending people.

Yes, it’s true, like many of you, I have lot’s of virtual friends.  Whether they’re old high school buddies that you communicate with mostly on FB or blog commenters, the entire twitter community, or exes you have kinky late night sexting with (I don’t judge), you’re aware that this tech bond exists.

I’ve been blogging for about 4 years, and over that time I’ve made many many many virtual friends.  I don’t want to brag, but tons of people, who don’t know me, really like me.

Wait, I feel that came out wrong.

Anyhoo, I got to meet many of those people this weekend and I think some are still my friends. Though these meetings didn’t come without their share of fear and trepidation. Yes, I was in the 7th grade this weekend – a grade I categorically erased from my memory after I did a solo performance of Madonna’s “Get Into The Groove” at that year’s talent show, during which I fell to the floor and cried.

I attended my first real blog conference, MOM 2.0 Summit, which is the ultimate in upscale blog conferences, as I’m sure you already know, I mean, DUH?  It was at the Ritz – obvi.  The peeps were successful, the speakers were brilliant, and the liquor was filled with alcohol.

I spent the first hour walking back and forth from my room to the registration area, as I was scared to talk to anyone – and I had nothing else to do with myself.  After the woman in the sign-up suite looked at me for the 5th time and said, “Um ma’am just give us 3 more minutes.” in a Why the f@ck do you keep lollygagging and peeking in? You clearly don’t belong here and simply want to steal a DOVE gift bag – well, I’ll throw off my bifocals and beat you down to the ground – BITCH. Kinda way.  What? I can tell what people are truly thinking.  It’s a gift.

Hour 2 and 3 – I spent at the pool – by myself.  On a lounge chair – alone. Ordering and eating my lunch – solo.  Staring at my phone and pretending I had a ton of work to do on my iPad, which was in fact, dead.  Yes, I was somewhere between giggling and crying as I wrote pretend emails, in reply to pretend messages.
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