Deep Thoughts, Dedicated To Mike, On His Date Of Birth

June 13, 2012

On May 15, 2012 at 9:54 p.m., I received this email…

Dear my friend Natalie,

Let’s get right to it: Your blog gives me pain. Not in a broken leg or needing stitches kind of way, but in a “you can have one bite of my delicious candy and then you must leave without anymore bites” kind of way. Because of this, you strike me as selfish. Selfish with your delicious candy. Now, I’ll admit that early on, I assumed that Natalie “Daily” meant that you’d write something all the time. Perhaps even daily. Then my wife told me that it was actually your last name (spelled Daly, I’ve since learned). I guess I thought the Paulson part was still hanging around and am, very clearly, slow to catch on. 

Natalie Daily my a$$, though. Natalie Monthly is more like it. 

I like your blog. It is real and funny and sometimes personal. You make me laugh or at least smirky. But you seem to post on an annual basis. What the hell? I check for something new regularly and, at this point, I’ve seen his face so many times that I feel like I went to prom with Goins and I’ve never even met the dude. 

My point is that I want more Natalie candy. Share it with me because I’m starting to annoy my wife with my complaints about how you should just go back to Paulson and stop living this daily lie. That is all.

Your friend,


Despite the fact that Mike spelled my last name (which is still legally Paulsen, Paulsen with an “e”) incorrectly (twice), this was still one of the most amazing/amusing emails I have ever received. I was mostly amazed/amused that it came from Mike. Mike is funny. He’s actually really funny. But I never thought Mike thought I was funny. Or that Mike thought labia were funny. Who knew?

To show Mike how much I sincerely appreciate that he a) reads – and took the time to tell me he enjoys – my blog b) took the time to double-check the spelling of my last name c) made me laugh hard, like ridiculously hard, on a random Tuesday night and d) was born on this day – I’d like to devote some of my most recent, deepest thoughts to him.

I’d told you I’d recognize you someday. Today’s the day pal. Today’s your day.

These deep thoughts are in no particular order…

I can’t remember the last time I was as excited to see a movie as I am to see Magic Mike. I need to Google the opening date again and put it on my calendar. Like an appointment. And then I need to get a whole bunch of dollar bills. So I can make it rain in the theater.

Somebody sent me a picture of their children. Naked. In the bath. Or was it the pool? Who sent me that picture? I think I forgot to respond. I need to look through my text messages and respond. That was so rude of me, if I forgot to respond. I can’t keep up with all these kids and babies. I also need to delete that picture. That’s weird. Right? To have a naked picture of someone else’s kids on your phone. I’m pretty sure it was just their butts. And their parent sent it to me. But still. I need to delete it and respond. I’m such a bad friend. And now I’m potentially a Dateline episode. I shouldn’t even be joking about this. It’s not actually a funny topic of conversation. At all. Jesus Natalie. Just text your friend.

Erin and I need to finish our website before I pluck out every single one of my eyelashes. Then we need to plan a launch party. I can’t wait to tell her my thoughts on the theme. I want to be the planner, the emcee and the entertainment. Is that ok? I might be narcissistic. At least I’m not a sociopath. Or both.

I think about Dana. A lot. I should tell her.

Why did I ever leave Santa Barbara? Or Spain? That was stupid.

I think traffic school actually worked on me. I never want to speed or be forced to complete traffic school again. That was a special kind of hell.

I should spend more time with Allison. We shouldn’t go to the Virgin Sturgeon every time, but I have the best time with her. And when I’m with her, I remember who I used to be. I forget that I’m afraid. Somehow, she has never forgotten who I was. She makes me feel like that’s who I still am. She’s seems confident I’ll find myself again and end up being exactly who I’m meant to be. She never forgets to remind me. I just wish we didn’t cry in public. For two typically tough broads, we cry a lot together. We’re lame.

I feel like Scott Moak is slowly replacing me as Allison’s office confidante. On one hand, it should be Scott. He is pretty awesome. I seriously love that guy. On the other hand, I feel like I should Tonya Harding Scott’s knees. She’s mine. All mine. Everybody knows that. Except Scott. Obviously.

I wish Miss Red Pants was a dragon and I wish I was the Mother of Dragons (if you don’t watch Game of Thrones, you’re going to think I’m off my rocker after reading this one).

I want to be friends with Lena Dunham and Judd Apatow. I also want to write, produce, direct and star in my own show on HBO. How do I make that happen? Must work harder. Must ask Lena Dunham and Judd Apatow.

I can’t believe I ever had a bad day in college. I had so little responsibility. I really only needed to get good grades, which I didn’t even manage to do all the time. I lived on the ocean, with my best friends. I lived in a house where people made my meals for me. And did my dishes. My friends and I shopped for costume parties at least once a month. Sometimes more. I had so much freedom. And so much fun. More fun than you should ever be allowed to have, at our age, on the ocean. I can’t believe I had one dramatic day in college. I can’t believe I cried one tear while I was at UCSB. I mean, really Natalie? You thought life was hard then? Dummy. Just look at how “hard” your life was below…

If I spent as much time fighting my fears as I do running away from them, I’d be Oprah. I wonder if Oprah is afraid of anything. Other than carbs. Carbs scare the @#$% out of me. Because even Oprah struggles with them.

I wonder how many friends I would lose if I started posting pictures of my belly on Facebook every week. It definitely changes size. It totally gets bigger and smaller relative to my self-control (or lack thereof). I just feel like those of us who are never going to have children need a way to include their baby making friends in their growth/development.

I really like being alone with my car stereo. I like it so much.

I remember when Goins told me the only time he ever worried about what was going on inside my head was when I wasn’t saying anything at all. We were in high school when he said that. He was the smartest kid alive. It’s really the only time anyone should ever worry about what’s going on inside my head. Quiet is near impossible for me. When I’m silent, something is seriously broken.

When will Sons of Anarchy be back on TV? With the exception of So You Think You Can Dance, I hate summer programming. I need Jax Teller.

I like being tan. I want to be tan all the time. I also need to stop watching shows about people from New Jersey. I think it’s rotting my brain. My tan brain.

Ashley should trademark the term “shame spiral.” It so accurately describes the emotional rollercoaster you experience after drinking way too much as an adult. I remember when we could abuse our bodies, wake up, and do it all over again the next day – with little pain and little remorse. Now it physically and emotionally hurts. It’s excruciating. It’s the “shame spiral.”

Why do most men get better looking with age? A LOT of men go straight from dark-haired devil to silver fox. WTF. Bob is exponentially hotter now than the day I married him. In fact, my business partner referred to him the other day as my trophy husband. We agreed, he’s like a super hot Kevin Costner. He was not this hot when he was my age (we’ll save jokes about the age gap for another post). He was skinny. Super skinny. Like runway model skinny, but he wasn’t a runway model. He was in the military. And he had a ponytail at some point in his life. I wouldn’t have looked at him with my business partner’s eyes. But now…WOWZA…Bob. I’ve caught women trying to put their hands up his shirt and tightly clutching his tie (both great stories, for another day). In any event, I think women should date older men until they hit their late 40’s. Then they should dump their silver fox before he buys a sailboat or a motorcycle (whatever his mid-life crisis looks like). They should dump their silver fox for a barely legal, Latino pool boy. Or Magic Mike.

I’m tired of thinking so deeply. I should sing for a while. At the top of my lungs. Enter Adele.

Happy Birthday Mike.


Natalie (trying to be more) Daily


{ 11 comments… read them below or add one }

Tami -- Teacher Goes Back to School June 13, 2012 at 3:00 pm

i agree with mike, we’d like to read more from you. so much of this (and all your posts) made me laugh.

as for the shame spiral – ugh. as i moved into my 30s (a DECADE ago), i discovered sylvia plath in my head post drinking. no bueno. i’ve all but given it up because she’s decided to stay.


Natalie June 15, 2012 at 6:47 am

Thank you Tami! And DAMN the shame spiral. Seriously. It’s so unfair.


Josh June 14, 2012 at 12:30 pm



Natalie June 15, 2012 at 6:46 am



Gina June 14, 2012 at 12:35 pm

Yes! Thank you Mike. I’m afraid of carbs, too, BTW. Just another thing Oprah and I have in common.


Natalie June 15, 2012 at 6:46 am

If even Oprah can’t beat carbs…there’s literally no hope for us.


Nikki June 22, 2012 at 11:40 am

I’ve shared the “shame spiral” with a few of my girlfriends and we’ve all agreed that there hasn’t EVER been a better explanation and that we will all start using the expression! Thanks for sharing…you are seriously hysterical!


Natalie July 2, 2012 at 11:23 pm

Laughing. It really is the only explanation Nikki. And it sums up a pretty complex physical/emotional reaction IN JUST TWO WORDS (which is difficult for those us with of a uterus). Thanks so much for spreading the word. XOXO.


Suz August 5, 2012 at 12:08 am

I can’t explain why I’m just now discovering this post, but it may be my favorite one yet…and I’ve loved them all. Miss you and our silly Twitter chats. xo


Angela August 9, 2012 at 9:09 pm

Epic proportions of hilarity. Were wou reading my mind on that naked baby photo text?


Natalie August 11, 2012 at 7:59 am

LOL. I’m so glad you see it my way Ang. As a child-free individual…it just seemed like something that could land me on Dateline.


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