this is the post in which I remember how to do links … and talk a lot about my underwear

Guess what y’all? Josh is going to run the marathon with me! Woohoo! I am a master persuader. Actually, I think he just liked the idea of doing it and probably would have signed up on his own, but I’ll take some credit anyway. Because I want to. Oh yeah, and we picked our race: the Baltimore Marathon, which is totally non-scary because it’s not until OCTOBER. I predict that it will start to look scary sometime around June and become positively terrifying by August. But now it just looks like a giant smiley face happily whispering to me that I should fork over $90.

Neither Josh nor I have actually signed up yet because Josh wants to wait until he gets his tax refund in February, and I just paid an inordinate amount of money to enter a Tough Mudder with my crossfit buddies; I don’t want to overtax my poor bank account with TWO races in one month.

Speaking of crossfit, I think the gremlins in my apartment are stealing my underwear.

I know what you’re thinking – wait just a moment, and you will see the connection.

So there are these gremlins in my apartment that sneakily move things into places where I never think to look for them and go behind me turning the oven back on after I’m sure I’ve remembered to turn it off and make new dirty dishes appear in the sink when I thought I did them all before. Roomie isn’t plagued with them; they’re my special gremlins.

Another element in this story is the fact that I got awesome spandex for Christmas. I don’t wear spandex shorts like the other girls at the gym because they show off wayyyyy too much of my pale, chubby thighs, but I LOVE my spandex leggings. So now that I own more than one-and-a-half pairs of leggings, I have to wear non-underwear-line-showing underwear more often. I don’t wear thongs because it’s like having a freaking wedgie ALL day. I applaud anybody who can put up with this, but I can’t. That’s okay though, because I have some magical underwear that is somehow designed so that it doesn’t show underwear lines—I don’t know how this works, but it does. Magic! Or science! In my book, they’re practically the same thing because I don’t understand either one.

Anyway, now you all know way more about my underwear than anyone is probably comfortable with. Sorry about that. I should have put a better disclaimer in the title.

Usually I can easily get from one laundry day to another (which can often be quite a stretch of time) without running out of my magical underwear, but this past week, I only made it a few days. I swear the gremlins must be stealing my underwear. There is absolutely NO OTHER EXPLANATION. I might need to buy more magic underwear, or maybe just stop wearing any underwear at all when I work out. I’ve totally done this before. With alarming frequency.  

Wow, all this talk about magic underwear makes me feel like a super hero with magic powers. I’m Magic Underwear Lady. My costume seems pretty self-evident. I just need an appropriate super power. Does the ability to do a 34” box jump count? It’s practically like flying.


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