As I write this, Jack is on his third day of vomiting and liquid refusal. Since he has never vomited before, it has been traumatic all around.

Whatever he has, I think I’m getting it. His sickness started with clinginess — charging over to me and putting his head anywhere he could get it horizontal, or demanding “Uppy?” and putting his head down on my shoulder.

I now know this was not because he loved me but because he was dizzy. World rockingly dizzy. I am not in any pain, but I cannot be vertical for more than about three minutes at a time.

All of this exists to give you an excuse for why the post you’re about to read doesn’t make any sense. Well, some of it makes sense. The part at the end that wasn’t written by me. Read More

I get an email from a reader yesterday, saying that Oprah was doing a show on people who are living in their tents because of the recession.

You know, it’s early. You might want to go get a coffee and then read that again.

Not, like, standard issue homeless people. Or whackjobs. People with jobs that require them to wear suits. People with cars and iPods and Netflix accounts and Starbucks habits.

They get out of bed sleeping bag. They have a shower sponge down. They open their front door tent and they go to work.

(Aside: I personally think the worst part of this is not the tent but the day job, but maybe that’s just me. I also think that opening a Yahoo tent store would not be unwise at this point. Not joking.)

This is totally fucking insane. And we’ll get to that. Read More

Every time you scold your children in public for doing something they get away with at home, you are manipulating the truth.

Every time you order a diet Coke simply because there are people around, you are manipulating the truth.

Every time you wear control top pantyhose, you are manipulating the truth.

Every time you think before answering an interview question, you are manipulating the truth.

Every time you clean your dorm room before your mother comes, you are manipulating the truth.

Every time you decide not to go out with the guys but make it sound like your wife’s decision, you are manipulating the truth.

Every time you tell your friend you like her hair and you don’t, you are manipulating the truth.

Every time you watch American Idol and deny it the next day, you are manipulating the truth. Read More

Today, I want to talk about time.

I went to see Seth Godin on Tuesday. (Thank you, Julie from Women Unlimited! Well, thank you, Julie’s son, who picked my name, clever boy.) It was an hour of presentation and then two hours of Q & A. I asked a question.

(Side note: If you find yourself in an auditorium with a guy who wrote a book on being remarkable and you’re too short to get noticed, I highly recommend removing your shoe and waving it around in the air.)

My question to Seth was this:

I won this ticket today, and when I told the people I knew about it, I got so many emails from people saying, “Seth? Oh my God, I LOVE him! He always answers my emails, even the stupid ones.” Read More

[Naomi's note: Read this one -- it's killer. Our first guest post is from Kyeli. If she has a last name, I don't know it. What I do know is that she and the ever-awesome Pace have changed the way I do marriage and business and they are two of my favorite people in the world.]

Three days before my 30th birthday, I was in a major car accident. My right wrist and shoulder were severely injured. At the time, I was co-owner of a shiny new temp agency – with all the hats and stresses that come from being an entrepreneur with a baby business. Needless to say, a debilitating injury wasn’t going to be good for business.

Bear with me, this is relevant – I promise. Read More