DANCE FEVER

Just take those old records off the shelf...I sit and listen to them by myself...
Today's music ain't got the same soul... I like that old time rock and roll...

See the picture up there? They're a band who played at a party I attended last night. I LOVED THEM. I danced to them. And, I sang along with them. I'm so telling you... I had a great time. The party was in honor of Bob's 60th birthday. A surprise party, I might add. And, it was held at the home of Steven and Karen. Actually, it was held on the grounds of their home; tent, food, band, mountains, scenery, perfect weather... you name it, they had it all. Which is why when the band began the night with the lyrics up above, I KNEW I was going to have fun. How anyone could possibly sit down when this begins to play is WAY beyond me. They're musically shut down?? Trust me, Bob Seeger knew exactly what he was doing when he wrote this song. He was demanding we DANCE, SING AND LET LOOSE.

That was just part of the great time I had. The other part was equally amazing. When I got to the party, I introduced myself to the host and hostess and as luck would have it, I was seated between Steven and Karen during the meal. A DElicous meal of bar-b-cued ribs that Steven cooked on an aMAZing out door pit. Anyway, we began talking and get this... Steven and I graduated high school together!! WHO THE F KNEW?? It was a total surprise to both of us! Especially, given that we knew so many of the same people!! The more we talked, the more people we mentioned and the more astonished I was. I can't believe the coincidence! And, neither of us went to our 40th high school reunion last January. Who needed it? I found an alumni right here in my own backyard.

Actually, Steven is the SECOND high school coincidence that has occurred in the past year. Last October I had my best girlfriend from high school visiting me. We were driving up the mountain and I noticed a house with a fanTAStic view of the mountains. I stopped and jokingly asked the lady out front, who was just moving in I might add, whether or not she liked her view. She put her head into the car and right off the bat said: I KNOW YOU! WE GRADUATED HIGH SCHOOL TOGETHER!! Lo and behold it was Libby! And, we probably even went to Jr. High together for all I know. Talk about a small world.

Which just goes to show... it always pays to be really nice to people. You never know when they might unexpectedly pop right back into your life once again! Thank goodness being kind comes second nature to me. I'd hate to have to move outta town. Besides, as I was leaving, Karen told me I was really pretty. Now THAT'S what I call being kind!

UNPATRIOTIC

Boy, I have to hand it to all the Veterans. And to their families. I can't even IMAGINE what it must be like to send a loved one off to war. Let alone to actually PARTICIPATE in a war. I get it that we must defend our country. I also get it that we need to fight for our county. What you won't get, however, is my kid to be doing it for you. Or for me.

I know... I'm a schmuck. I want and treasure America's freedom. I just don't want MY son having to kill people and I CERTAINLY don't want him to be killed, all in the name of preserving said freedom. Which I realize is a pretty unpatriotic and selfish thing to admit. On the other hand, I've expended a LOT of loving and devoted energy to raising my son thus if I were told he needed to go to war, in a heartbeat, I'd have to say HELL NO, HE WON'T GO. What?? You think I'm going to hand over the most precious thing I have, to the U.S. of A? Only to cross my fingers and pray like mad that he comes home all in one piece? Let alone come home at ALL?? Uh... sorry Charlie. Absolutely no way that's ever going to happen.

Which is all the more reason, I have to take my hat off and extend my heart to all the Veteran's who have already done it and who are still doing it! The bravery our soldiers show is simply unthinkable to me. Like, to even lie in bed the night before going off to boot camp, knowing that the next day your entire world is possibly going to be turned upside down is SO not my idea of tolerable. To have your kid tell you something like YEAH, I KNOW MOM... TOMORROW IS THE DAY I'M OFF TO THE SERVICE are words I NEVER want to hear. Trust me, I'd happily have him spend a year in jail before I'd EVER let him literally walk into a smoking gun. Returning home maimed is horrid enough. Returning home dead is unfathomable.

Especially in THIS war. If I recollect correctly, didn't Bush first go to war THEN have Congress approve the monies for war?? HUH?? Isn't that BACKWARDS?? I love Bob Woodward... I have ever since Watergate. Thus, from his book PLAN OF ATTACK comes following quote: “Gets to a point where in July, the end of July 2002, they need $700 million, a large amount of money for all these tasks. And the president approves it. But Congress doesn't know and it is done." By the way, if you REALLY want to read about the crapola Bush has perpetrated upon us Americans, you might even want to check out Woodward Shares War Secrets, Journalist Describes Secret Details On White House's Plans For War - CBS News. Anyway, I digress.

What I really want to do is thank from the bottom of my heart all those men and women who are WAY better than I. Those who are TRULY patriotic. Those who DID send their loved ones to war. And those who DID fight. I can't even beLIEVE the credit they deserve. Especially for people like me who would NEVER have walked in their shoes. Nor let my kid do it, either. Thus, to every Veteran and his/her family, I can only say... words, medals, praises, holidays, whatEVER... could never be enough to express the appreciation and admiration I feel. Me? I am definitely a flaming coward. They, on the other hand... are absolutely extraordinary heroes.

GOING BRALESS

Trust me... the days of my going bra-less are WAY over. To relive THOSE days, I'd have to go back to my 20s, 30s and mayyybe early 40s. I can't remember. But NOW?? Oh Lordy. I don't even want to think about it.

Which is why I was embroiled in a major hunt this morning. Looking for my BRA! As it happens... for as long as I can remember, the VERY FIRST thing I do as soon as I walk in the house, is undo my bra and toss it anywhere that's convenient. It comes as natural to me as putting the key in the door. Lately, I've taken to unhooking my bra and hanging it on a sweet little chair that's in my dining room. It kinda works out perfectly for me and if it's not going into the laundry that day, then at least I know exactly where it is when I'm dressing the next morning.

Which is why I was so baffled when earlier today, I pranced over to the chair and lo and behold... there was no bra! Okay... so it must be somewhere else. No big deal. Except that it WAS a big deal, given I searched and searched my house up and down, over and over and STILL, no bra was to be found. A major mystery. And, forget about the mystery... time was now beginning to run short in terms of dressing. WHERE THE HELL WAS MY BRA, anyway??

Besides, this bra is my all time favorite. In fact, you can see it up there, in the pict. Get a load of the deep plunge. Kinda nifty, don't you think? I definitely love the look, but even MORE importanly, I love this bra because it has some magical power whereby it literally takes an old lady like me and BOOM! It turns you into a 16 year old in no time flat. High. Shapely. Perky. Way less costly than implants, too.

Anyway, back to the mystery at hand. It goes without saying, I have an entire dresser drawer devoted just to bras. All colors, all shapes, all fabrics. And, I certainly wouldn't be foolish enough to own just ONE of my favorite bras, thus finding a duplicate wasn't difficult at all. So, without missing a beat, I found a twin of my favorite bra, finished dressing and then figured I'll just have to call the Bra Police one day soon.

BUT... AHA! No sooner than I was dressed then BINGO. The missing bra was FOUND. Yippee... call off the dogs. Where WAS this fine piece of lingerie?? You'll never believe it. It WAS on a chair. Just not on the dining room chair. Instead, it was hanging on my computer DESK chair!! Thus, while doing my house search, I was unable to see it hanging there, given the chair was turned just enough so that bra itself was sort of hidden from view. Whew. I'm back in the game.

BOTTOM LINE TO ALL THIS: 1.) Why the hell did I even take OFF my bra while I was at the computer??? Eeeks. It almost sounds sleazy, doesn't it? And... I have to tell you, I have absolutely NO recollection whatsoever of having removed it while computing. Why WOULD I?? 2.) Don't get old. At my age, unless things are put EXACTLY where you put them day in and day out, you have almost NO chance of ever remembering it's location. 3.) I dedicate this entry to my Mother, who way back in my Flower Child days ALWAYS felt me up, checking to be sure I was, in fact, wearing a bra! Often, to her chagrin... I wasn't. Ahhh... talk about the good ole days.

FETCH, SIT, STAY

While I was raising my family, we also raised an adorable, white Cockapoo dog. His full name was Reginald Zebulon... a name I chose from both 1.) my then favorite baseball player and 2.) a nickname my peditrician used to call my son.

Once, after having this family pet for many, many years, Claudia and her family housed the dog when I was out of town for a short time. Kinda a mistake, I think, given I came back, and within days I had to take our pet to the vet and boom. Next thing I knew, we had to put him to sleep. It was sad, and actually, a big shock. I could never really BLAME Claudia since a: I doubt she would deliberately do in my dog and b: the dog can't talk thus we'll never know exactly what went down.

On the other hand, I was thrilled to no longer have the responsibility of mothering an aging dog who's bladder became so old, that I was unarming the burglar alarm at 2:00 a.m, again at 4:00 a.m. and yet again at 6:00 a.m. so the dog could go out his doggie door. It was a major pain in the neck. So, maybe in the end, Claudia did me a major favor. Talk about putting a postitive spin on things, huh?

In the meantime, I haven't had a pet since. Which is good news, since I am SO not an animal lover. Not after the first two days, anyway. Which was always a mystery to me as to why our dog ever fell absolutely, madly in love with me. It was the REST of the family that petted, played and spent time with the dog, yet it was ME he followed everywhere I went. He adored me... while I merely placated him.

Anyway... NOW, once again, I am sharing my house with a dog. My Dad's dog, actually. I'm housing it only while my sister is out of town. Which is for about 5 days. I'm not jumping for joy, trust me, but I'm happy to help out, regardless. She brought the dog over to me yesterday. Wanna guess how long it took before the dog decided to go to the bathroom on my carpeted, back patio?? I mean REALLY go to the bathroom? Geez. About two minutes, maybe? Nice way to endear me to this newly assigned task, don't you think?

I must say, however, that since that initial back porch intro, the dog has been a perfect house guest. Any animal that lets me sleep until 9:30 is definitely my kind of pet. Of course, he never ate even a tidbit of his food YESterday, so today I had to naturally serve him MY food. Dog food, he has no need for. MY food, he laps up with fervor. If I wind up having to actually COOK for this dog, I'll freak.

Just my luck, Lobster Thermidor is amongst his favorites, for all I know. Which, now that I think about it, is not so bad... turns out, it's MY favorite, too. Already we could be a team in the eating department!

BEFORE & AFTER

I seem to have a dilemma lately. It involves my hair. Namely, the length of my hair. Apparently my hair grows way faster than I want. And... once it gets to a certain point, the hair cut no longer has the shape it's supposed to have. Nor does it hold it's shape until the next morning, given I blow it out after my nightly shower. Unless that is... my hair is at its precise, favorite, proper, natural length; in which case, I can THEN blow it out each night, and pretty much count on it holding its shape shape until the next day.

The dilemma is this: Almost IMMEDIATELY after it reaches JUST the proper length, within mere minutes of going past this point in time, my hair no longer holds the shape nor its blown style. Consequently every two weeks, I wind up needing a hair cut. EEEKS. Actually, you see the problem in the two pictures up above.

Okay. So the photos are nothing to write home about, but thankfully, beauty is not the purpose of this entry. Instead, checking out hair length is. The first picture was taken when my hair was JUST BEGINNING to get to the problem length. It was taken just two weeks after a cut. The dilemma is such that WHO THE HELL can get a hair cut every two weeks??? Besides, it takes almost that long to simply get an app't with Angie. Enter: THE SOLUTION.

Turns out I'm way more multi talented than I ever suspected. Kinda like: Necessity is the Mother of Invention. It seems as if, on top of all my OTHER incredible abilities, I am now ALSO a personal, self proclaimed hair cut operator! The proof is seen right there in the second picture. Not bad for a fake salon employee, huh?

It all came about when I was staring at my hair about 11 o'clock last night and said to myself: 1.) Geez. I so need a hair cut. 2.) No salon is open at this hour... so... hmmm... I wonder if: 3.) I CAN CUT IT ALL BY MYSELF?

Next thing you know, I grabbed a really good pair of scissors and BOOM. I began the styling procedure. Talk about guts. I started cutting my locks left and right, watching the zillions of pieces fall to the ground, praying all the while that I wasn't screwing up my normally perfectly fine hair cut. And, saying to myself: Don't worry...no big deal. If by happenstance this DOESN'T work out, I'll simply run to a quickie hair cutting place tomorrow and have them even up my trials and errors. Therefore, I kept going, cutting off at least an inch by time's end.

But, you know what? I don't think I'll need the pros, after all. True, its a short, summer cut, but on the other hand, this new invention of mine is going to last WAY longer than a mere two weeks. And, while the trim may not be PERFECT, it's certainly acceptable for my everyday life needs.

Besides, I'm here... just WAITing for the first visitor to walk through my front door. They have no idea that they'll be hired PRONTO, to check out the back, and slice off any straggling hairs. Which of course, leads me to wonder... will I or won't I not need to ante up a tip for their services. Better yet... maybe should I ante up a tip for ME instead.

MEET THE EXPERT

Yippee. My second Monday without having to go to work. I definitely love this deal. Where I DO have to go, however, is to an appointment with my financial advisor. Which is pretty funny, since before the guy can advise me on how to handle my monies, I first have to actually HAVE monies. Therein lies the glitch.

Every time I meet with him, he asks me about my total financial picture, to which I always answer: There IS no picture. I kinda like telling him, go on the basis there is nothing in the pot and then bingo. Let's work from there. He helped me with refinancing my home a few years ago, and again, that's what we'll be addressing today.

I remember the day I first bought my home and walked into it, after the closing. My first announcement was: SO... IT'S A GOOD THING I LIKE THIS PLACE, GIVEN I'LL PROBABLY BE STARING AT IT FOR THE NEXT 30 YEARS! And, it's true... I DO like my house. A lot. Of course, I'd probably love a much LARGer home, but then I'd have to pay much larger costs to purchase and/or run one. Funny how the banks, utilities, etc. like you to pay them off. The good news however, is that my advisor has now moved up the ranks, so to speak, thus he'll be able to make a supposedly really good deal for me without having to get "approval" from higher ups. I consider that something which definitely works in my favor.

Which reminds me... I'm always a little bit baffled by financial experts. To my way of thinking, if they are such great experts, why the heck aren't all financial advisors like FILTHY RICH? You'd have to imagine that they have a MAjor heads up on what's what with making money, thus they should all be so damn wealthy, that they'd not even need to be showing up at the office. Instead, they should be BUYING the office.

Besides, if I'm going to be investing any mula and then for some reason, lose it after following the advice of an expert, I'd SO be on the warpath. I don't do well with lost bucks. I love when these guys tell me they have no crystal balls to guarantee their projected returns, because as it happens, guarantees are EXACTLY what I'm looking for.

All in all, however, it works out pretty well in the end, I guess. If I don't have monies to invest... then boom. I don't lose any monies by investing. Which reminds me... I need to go surf the web and see how old I need be, to withdraw IRA monies without incurring any penalties. I bet I wind up being the only woman in America to PRAY I'm old. Old enough for IRA's, MEDICARE and SENIOR CITIZEN PLANE TICKETS. Uh... the airlines even OFFER that anymore??

QUICK TURN-A-ROUND

Well, that didn't take long. Remember when just yesterday I was sort of into the Birthday Blahs? Well, whatta ya know? Bingo... I apparently moved REAL quickly right smack into the Birthday Bonus!! I am telling you.. it turned out to be quite a great day.

First of all, a BEAUTIFUL bouquet of flowers arrived about 11 in the morning. Now THAT'S a great way to start the day! That's them up above. Aren't they stunning?? I love surprise deliveries like that.

Secondly, I decided to maybe treat myself to something, so I stopped in one of my local stores to see what they had, that I might like to own. GET THIS... for the first time IN YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS I was actually able to buy something from THE MISSES' DEPARTMENT and not the Specialty Size dept!! WOW. This is the kind of news that should be broadcast on World News Tonight, if you ask me. And, as it happens, Laura called just as I was making my selection of white linen slacks... zipper and button closure, even! So boom. I actually got to the share the momentous occasion with someone!

Thirdly... and this is the bonus... I was picked up by friends to go grab a planned bite to eat and WHAMO! I walked into Susan's house to find 14 of my friends waiting to surprise me with a FABULOUS DINNER OF BEEF TENDERLOIN AND ROASTED TURKEY BREAST!! All in my honor! I was SHOCKED to say the least! There was allll sorts of goodies as side dishes and the most beautiful chocolate sheet cake you ever saw! And... I GOT PRESENTS! Lots of them, too! I am so telling you... I am so blessed to have such great friends who bring me so much joy and so much love.

So, you do the math. Who in their right mind WOULDN'T call that a bonus birthday?? Goes to show... you just never know what sort of fun is awaiting you right around the corner. It also goes to show... don't ever bitch on your birthday. Feeling blah or not, you can ALWAYS turn it into a bonus day, lickety split! Well... if you're lucky, like me, that is. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone who was there to help make my day so special. Of course, NEXT year is on me. But... that's okay. It's THE BIG ONE. EEKS.

TAURUS

YIPPEE! Today's my birthday! And here, you see my brother, my sister and I, two people with whom I ALWAYS loved sharing a birthday.

I'm just a year shy of 60 and oh lordy, I can only imagine my mental outlook at this time NEXT year. Although my mental outlook for this year is nothing to write home about either.

This year is VERY unusual for me. HIGHLY unusual, actually. First of all, I am writing this Birthday Blog while I'm slightly buzzed from the Ativan I downed a few hours ago. Good luck making sense out of it. Secondly, I've been feeling so tense and blue lately because of issues with my Dad. Thirdly, I NEVER pass up my birthday and ALWAYS plan some sort of excellent celebration. Not this year, however.

THIS year, I'm just laying low, so to speak. I'll meet some friends at a local pizza parlor probably, eat something tasty and then be on my way. That's about as much effort I feel like putting into the whole shebang. I've gotten several cards in the mail and a couple from online, and it really has been nice opening them, knowing people are thinking of me. But.. normally, I'd have HORDES of cards here, given I normally begin making conversation of my upcoming birthday WEEKS ahead of time. I'm definitely into putting every human being I know on Birthday Alert. This year, though, I didn't mention a word. Who needs the star of the occasion feeling blah and crappy when all other times she's on top of the world?? Some hostess I'd make, huh?

Anyway, I was born on a Wednesday afternoon, about 2:00, and my parents were thrilled, given my mother had lost a girl right after her birth. Thus, my arrival apparently meant a lot, I guess. I had a simply wonderful childhood, had great high school years, met the first love of my life at age 16 and roomed in college with my best girlfriend. I then married right after college graduation and married once more just after my 30th birthday. For my 50th birthday, I sought a divorce which, though it completely broke my heart to do, it was the BEST
birthday present I could have ever given myself. Life since then, in spite of being alone on so many levels, has actually turned out to have really been fabulous.

Take it from me girls... having the love of a man you simply adore more than life itself is definitely the ultimate gift. But... if such a gift is not in the cards, be assured that life and/or birthdays can STILL be a delicious bowl of cherries. Uh... except this time. This year, it's more like a bowl of grapes. But... I have WAY HIGH HOPES for next year's celebration. IT'S A BIGGIE and I'm counting on being back on top of the world by then.

So, for tonight, all I can do is await for the store to open and go out and buy a delicious, beautiful birthday cake. And you know what?? I'll be smiling like child in no time flat, once I get a slice into my ever lovin' belly! Buttercream frosting only, by the way.

Thus, Happy Birthday to Me!! I wish me all kinds of wonderful things to come my way in 2007. Because, frankly, I DESERVE IT. I'm a hell of a woman with a hell of a happy life and with a hell of a lot of fabulous people surrounding me and loving me. Who could ask for more?? Besides, I have my health. Now THERE'S a gift I wouldn't trade for the world! So... enjoy 5-19, everyone. And, naturally... think of me!

To Bob... I love and miss you more than ever.

LIFE CYCLES

They say that what goes around, comes around. Kinda like hem lines, hair do's and even human nutrition. I remember being told NO CAFFEINE... IT'S BAD FOR YOU. Boom. Next thing you know, caffeine is actually good for the brain. So is chocolate. Even real butter and yellow egg yolks are now on the GOOD FOR YOU List.

In that vein, I'm now wondering if maybe I should re-think the ever popular, steadfast rule, of the life threatening dangers regarding keeping doughnuts in one's house. Granted, the nutritional value found in doughnuts is equivalent to the nutritional value found in poison. However, as it happens, twice in the last week, I've actually NEEDED two of the three dozen doughnuts that were sitting in my freezer as of last weekend.

WHAT? THERE WERE 3 DOZEN DOUGHNUTS IN THE HOUSE?? Well... uh... I'm ashamed to say it... but... YES. Last week I sent my son to buy 5 dozen doughnuts for school and he walks in with 7, instead. I immediately flipped out at the amount of boxes he was carrying and wound up taking 4 dozen to school and freezing the remaining 3. And, it's a good thing I did, too.

Friday night I had company over for dinner and as delicious as the meal was, it was NOTHING compared to the dessert. How could it NOT be fabulous? I HAD DOUGHNUTS, didn't I??? And, I had ice cream. BINGO! TALK ABOUT A HOME RUN in the dessert department! Then... today I drove 5 of my friends to see the new house of a 6th friend.... who just happened to say: Barbara's here, and she brought me lunch. You can bring the dessert. In no time at all, the wheels began spinning in my head and I thought: SI SENORA. NO PROBLEMO, MI AMIGA, mission accomplished.

Within moments, I ran to the freezer and voila! I TOOK OUT A DOZEN CHOCOLATE COVERED, COLORED SPRINKLED DOUGHNUTS and was in the car, on my way to Delicious Heaven. Of course at first, no one but ME was going to eat this deadly poison. How long you think THAT lasted? Am so telling you, in no time flat I think EVERYone had their fair share.

Which brings me back to what goes around, comes around. Turns out, having a huge stash of doughnuts may not be such a bad thing AFTERall. Just look at the exceptionally fine use I found, within mere days of each other, to offer this toxic food to several people I love and adore! Besides, doughnuts have ALWAYS been on my top three all time Favorite Foods List. Wanna know the other two?

THE FUN HOUSE

Well, I guess SOME people call it the Fun House. I, myself, call it the FUNNY FARM. And basically, there's where I'm soon headed. Having a parent no longer able to live by themselves, and in need of an assisted living situation is no great shakes, let me tell you. And, that's if your parent is cooperative and kinda with it. If your parent is instead, cantankerous and obstinate then WHAMO. You're in big trouble. I love the theater. But, give me REAL LIFE drama... boom. I'm a mess.

Kinda like now. It's really sad to see a parent who was once so dapper and fun loving become so old and so helpless. But, sadness aside, it's also HORRIBLY STRESSFUL to watch. In fact, just yesterday, when I was leaving to go visit my Dad, I wrote a check to my housekeeper, literally telling her that I had better write it now, since I don't really know the exact time table for when my heart attack is going to actually kick in. Believe me... I'm definitely counting on one occurring, but as I said, I just don't know WHEN.

To help keep an attack at bay however, I must admit that I'm popping half an Ativan probably about once a day/day and a half lately. I'm hoping they'll keep me from having to enter the Funny Farm any sooner than normally expected. Also to help keep the attack at bay, I'm spending way more time during my yoga sessions trying to chill out and meditate. In addition, a huge knot has developed in the small of my back, right next to my left hip which means I had better call the masseuse lickety split. Heavy handed fingers are way needed to uh... knead it. Oh yeah... I forgot... I also have to drop two daily Advil to sort of kill the back pain. All in all, I'm in good shape, don't you think?

As it happens, I don't like to hang my soiled laundry out in public, thus I'm not going to go into details about Dad, etc. What I WILL do instead, is merely zone out by staying close to home and away from lots of people and places. I don't focus well when I'm not on top of my game, thus, I'll probably veg out and do meaningless things around the house. Not only will I keep my sanity, but who knows? I may wind up with a great new look in the house.

Bottom line: I have minimal interest in blogging lately; especially since there really isn't anything that's tickling my fancy. Remember a couple of weeks ago when Sue was touting my high happiness level and ability to find joy all over the place? Geez... is SHE ever on the wrong page. Lately, I seem to be shifting those levels of pleasure and joy from 5 to 9 back down to 6 then maybe up to an 8. And, those shifts can be almost hourly. EEKS.

So... if I check into the Funny Farm any time soon... let's hope they have an internet connection. I'd love to see what sort of blogs I'd create while residing there. HI, FROM THE FARM. IT'S A LOT OF FUN SO FAR, ALTHOUGH I'M SEEING NO ANIMALS ON ANY PASTURES. NOR IN ANY BARNS. WISHED YOU WERE HERE.

YOU NEED A KID

Wednesday was a great day for me. It was the day my one in a million kid arrived to spend time with his one in a million mother... ME! I can't tell you how I thrilled I am each time I see his face rounding the corner of the airport wall, walking towards me. His face simply makes me jump for joy. The two of us always have grins from ear to ear. YIPPEE. My son is here is for Mother's Day!

Which is kinda important, since believe me... I'll just bet when the day comes that he takes himself a bride, she'll probably be hauling him over to HER mother's house for Mother's Day. Damnit. Hence, I had better live it up now; God only knows how long I'll have him to myself.

Which is too bad. Because believe it or not... I have a son who is electronic genius, plumber, computer whiz and office secretary all rolled into one. Now HERE is a guy who's good to have around. Especially since I had a list way long of things to do requiring A Jack of All Trades. The list included things like:

1.) buy/install DVD player in my bedroom
2.) remove/replace the broken antenna on the portable/cordless TV
3.) call Direct TV and figure out how to lower my monthly bill
4.) fix yet AGAIN the running water in the guest bathroom toilet
5.) set me up for online banking and
6.) find a Password Manager program to help organize my info.

BINGO. IN ONE FELL SWOOP, MY SON DID IT ALL. What mother could ask for more? In return, I fed my kid, I did his laundry, listened to Howard Stern 24/7, held a small dinner party in his honor and even let him keep the thermostat down to 69 degrees while I froze to death. Plus... he even completed the 3-D puzzle of the Taj Majal which he's been working on for me during his past three visits.

And... as if all this wasn't enough, my genius son ALSO became a medical doctor/caterer on Friday night, when minutes before our guests arrived I BURNED ALL FIVE FINGER TIPS ON MY RIGHT HAND. Oh my God... it was so crazy, not to mention PAINful! But... have no fear. Thanks to my personal medic, I not only had appropriate procedures immediately applied to my fingers, but also had a perfectly fine dinner prepared/served without ever skipping a beat.

Last but not least, my son and I tried figuring out a great title to the book we hope will one day make us filthy rich when I publish all my blogs. Neither of us could come up with a fabulous title, although the one we DID get a kick out of most was: F- YOU... AND OTHER PEARLS OF WISDOM. Which reminds me: anyone who CAN come up with just the right title, DEFINITELY gets a major prize.

My prize for the moment however, is my kid. We had a terrific 5 days of fun, feast and frolic. And best of all, both of us are looking forward to our NEXT chance to hang out and hang loose. Indeed... this was a most wonderful Mother's Day. I can only hope EVERYone's was happy. But first... you need a kid and unfortunately... and you can't have the all time best. He's already MINE.

NO MORE PENCILS

No more pencils, no more books. No more teacher's dirty looks! Note: This isn't coming from the students mouths' ... it's coming from MINE.

YIPPEE. School's over. Well, actually, toMORRow is the last day. But there is no way I'm going to in fact, be TEACHING. Instead, I'm loading myself up with 5 dozen boxes of freshly made doughnuts and then saunter into my classroom. DIG IN, KIDS! Let's celebrate!

If by chance you think the students are thrilled school is over, trust me... I am WAY more thrilled. Of course, I"m not thrilled that I won't be bringing in bucks, but I WILL love not getting up to my alarm every day. And, I'll love resuming my week night social life. And, I'll love not having to live by such strict personal schedules every day and every night. HAL- LE- LU-JAH!

On the other hand, this job has been perfect for me. And, I've really enjoyed so many of the students. One in particular. Mainly because I just found out what a great PR guy he's become on my behalf. Turns out, unbeknownst to me, this student was discussing me with the principal, my boss, and gave me A RAVE REVIEW. Which I'm thinking could possibly clinch my being offered this position again, next year. THANK YOU, MR. PR AGENT. Naturally, I had him reiterate over and over exactly how the discussion went down and yep. I think he's hired. He apparently did a great job in letting my principal know I'm liked by lots of students and even loved by some. Who could ask for more? I'm just thanking God the principal didn't approach the couple of kids who probably hate me. Now THAT could spin things in a different direction, altogether.

Anyway, another school years draws to an end. It seems like my entire life has been spent in school. Either on one side of the teacher's desk, or the other. I kinda prefer the side closest to the blackboard, however. I think what I love most about teaching are two things: 1.) I love every February, because for some reason that's the time when all your efforts from September seem to fall into place. Almost as if: the light bulb has gone off in the students' head. 2.) I also love March because it has always seemed that that's when all the children go through a kind of growth spurt. Like, after Spring Break, you can look up at your students and bingo. You see that they've really GROWN. Not merely intellectually, but physically, too.

Which is rather rewarding, if I say so myself. Knowing you've helped a kid learn something is a wonderful feeling. And, only one feeling can equal that. Yep... you guessed it. THE DAY SCHOOL IS OUT!

THE MEET DEPARTMENT

Last night I was at the grocery store. I had to get a birthday cake for my Dad's 86th birthday celebration today. Which of course means I was in the Bakery Department. But... according to the female store manager, I should INSTEAD, have hung out in the Meat Department. Better known as: The Meet Department!

I don't even know how we got on the subject of men... single men, specifically... but somehow we did and the next thing I knew, the manager was giving me all KINDS of info about which I had no clue. Case in point: Do YOU know the right time to shop so you can hook up with men? Which day of the week will offer you your best choices? Just where in the store you should plant yourself in order to hook your man?

Well, as of last night, I DO. Apparently, there's a real game plan to this in-store kind of pick up. Turns out, Sunday, right after church is supposedly THE best time to meet a potential gentleman of your dreams. Which, as I told the lady, is not really going to work for me, since I much prefer someone who is not quite so church minded. I'm into someone who's got a bit more of an edge; anyone who is spending every Sunday morning sitting in some pew, singing his heart out to HOW GREAT THE LORD is uh.... not exactly going to fall right smack in love with me. Nor will he get off on the ease with which I use and adore four letter words. Let alone, using the Lord's name in vain.

ENTER: GAME PLAN TWO: Because of kibosh I put on the Preacher Man and his cronies, the manager then proceeds to tell me that Fridays, right after work, is the NEXT best time to hook up with men, since everybody has just gotten their paycheck. This is when I informed my friendly little neighborhood match maker, that unfortunately, this too, won't exactly work for me. I'M looking for someone who alREADY has money; the more, the better, too. Any guy worrying about shopping immediately after getting his weeks' pay is not really going to be my kinda gent. I'm thinking he could also be the kind who's racing right over to a CASH BACK FAST sort of place, where you get to turn your pay check into an instant loan for about a week or so. Then, pray by the weeks' end, he'll actually have monies to settle his short term loan. Yeah, right.... just what I need. Someone even poorer than ME.

ENTER: GAME PLAN THREE: Okay... so church going men AND pay day men aren't in my cards. BUT, there's still hope. According to the store manager, anyway. I'm told what I now need to do... if I'm looking for well to do, upSCALE sort of men... is show up at the grocery store around LUNCH time on any given week day that just happens to fit schedule. AND, I should head directly to the Meat Dept.! Can you believe this?? There's like a REAL SCIENCE to finding the next love of your life! Who the hell KNEW? Apparently it all boils down to: single men with plenty of discretionary income like to buy steaks. And, they like to buy them around noon. Although, a friend of mine is taking issue with the timing bit. SHE says: Go around 4 o'clock. Whatever.

All I can say is that it was aMAZing to me that here, I walked into the grocery store with no thought whatsoever about seeking a new love. Yet, I wound up leaving the store completely re-educated on how to do your grocery shopping AND fall in love. I'm telling you... this manager really knows her stuff! She definitely gives a whole new meaning to: FOOD FOR THOUGHT.

And, thought is what I was engrossed in while I loaded the groceries in the car and got into the driver's seat. I began reflecting upon what I just learned. It was all beginning to make some sense to me, but I decided to take it even a step further. If all that this manager has told me, is in fact, TRUE... then, guess what? For me to meet anyone who actually fits MY qualifications, then HER store isn't at all where I should be. Instead, I should be at some fancy schmancy GOURMET grocery store where money is spent like water by men whose IRA's have been in place for YEARS. And, because I'm such an obedient student, I obviously need to be there sometime in the late afternoon. How's THAT for putting her theories to the test?

ATTN: ANYONE WANTING TO STEAK THEIR CLAIM ON SOME UNSUSPECTING MALE, NEEDS TO BE AT THE MEET DEPARTMENT ON AN AFTERNOON OF YOUR CHOICE... PREFERABLY BETWEEN NOON AND 4:00. Dress is casual.

TOTALLY SPENT

In case you've never seen a woman totally spent from an exhausting, rough sort of day, you're looking at one, now. Lovely, huh?.

These past two weeks have been crazy for Claudia and I. Our Dad took a bad fall and subsequently, he was in the hospital, then a crappy rehab center, then back at home, and just yesterday, he entered a sort of posh assistance living type place. Kinda like a fancy schamcy nursing home. Trust me, however... you can never be fancy ENOUGH for this type of living arrangement, but so be it.

I won't get into the whole ordeal, since it's a pretty traumatic experience for everyone involved. Rather, I'll get into what happened later that day. As it happened, yesterday was a HORRIBLY hot day. As in: temps similar to the ones I hated while living in Florida. No WONDER I moved from there. Extreme heat is so not my style. Whatever to happened to Spring, I don't know, but I am major afraid of what summer is going to be like, believe me. A month ago, there was snow upon the ground. Today, sweltering heat is upon me. Go figure.

In the meantime, as you can see from the picture, I was absolutely worn out. So worn out... from the day's events AND the heat... that get this. I unlocked my front door, walked in and IMMEDIATELY began to strip off all my clothes. At that point, I couldn't have cared LESS who might be peeking in any of my windows. Besides, if anyone is stupid enough to want to see ME undressed, then they DESERVE the freebie show.

So... item by item, I began to disrobe and within mere seconds I began to feel a sense of freedom. Not to mention a sense of cool. I didn't even hang up anything that came off, either. Like a major slob, I just threw all the clothing on the dining room table and began prancing through the house, doing whatever I needed. As in: grab a Diet Coke and probably an Oreo. No sooner had I walked out of the kitchen then: DING DONG.

Eeeks. My front door was ringing. SOMEONE WAS THERE, WAITING FOR ME TO ANSWER. And... answer I did. COMPLETELY UNDRESSED, TOO. I told you... I could have CARED LESS who saw me. As I approached the door, I was thinking to myself: pretend I'm at a European topless beach. Bingo. I'd fit right in. Of course, I WASN'T at a topless beach so, you can well imagine the shock my girlfriend's face when I opened the glass door and said: OH, HI THERE! COME ON IN!

We both burst out in hilarious laughter as I explained my presence. Can you iMAGine?? When's the last time someone came to YOUR house and you greeted them just shy of nudity?? Actually, I spared my girlfriend the unnecessary sight of my undraped body, and put my shirt back on. Damnit. But... I have to tell you... the whole bit was pretty funny. In fact, we wasted little time in sharing our story with a lot of our OTHER friends. Friends who were probably happy as hell THEY didn't come to my door, instead.

Wanna guess what I did as soon as my friend left?? YOU GUESSED IT. I ripped off the f-ing shirt once again. And.. would you believe, I didn't' put anything back on, even when doing my yoga session! Now, there's a sight to behold. Doing yoga in nothing but my pair of string bikini panties. EEKS. Seems as if I've developed a whole new position in yoga... COMPROMISING.

THE BIG DILEMMA

Spring is here. Thus, the time of year when once again, I'm faced with a major dilemma. It occurs every year and actually, I've haven't completely resolved it. Instead, I just live with my fingers crossed.

The dilemma involves my bedroom door. And, the beautiful night time weather. Given I love fresh air so much, I am absolutely wild about sleeping with the door opened so the evening sound of the trees can be heard, so that the beautiful cool air can wash all over me while I dream and so that I can awaken to the sound of the wonderful chirping birds. That's the good news.

The bad news however, is that if the door is left opened during the night, then I might get raped. And trust me... rape is not high on my list of things I'd like to occur. While I do indeed love sexual pleasures, actually being FORCED to have sex with some scary low life escapee, who's holding a knife to my face and heavy into murdering his victims, is SO not the way I'm seeking satisfaction.

As it happens, my worries of rape come from the fact that although the entrance to my back patio is high from ground level, all the potential rapist would actually need is a ladder and boom! He's in. Or, maybe a co-conspirator who's willing to merely boost him up. EEKS.

For years, I've TRIED to leave the door opened, REALLY trying to suppress my fears but I swear... within minutes, I hopped out of bed, filled with doubt/fear and bingo. I just HAD to close/lock the door. Whew. Immediate peace of mind was restored.

But, of course I was THEN deprived of the sleep environment I so love. Thus, right back to where I started from. I've even polled my neighbors, describing my dilemma and every last one of them tell me not to worry a bit. There is NO way a crazy ass rapist is coming after me. Like how do THEY know, anyway? In the meantime, I really want to believe them. But, Claudia doesn't buy it. She claims with all the workers who are often in my development, she's thinking it's one of THEM who might enjoy a nice forced roll in the hay. What to do??

Well, what I did last fall, was BELIEVE the neighbors. I really DID leave my bedroom door open... I mustered the nerve, justifying it all by simply telling myself IF I'M MEANT TO DIE BY BEING SCARED OUT OF MY F-ING MIND WHILE BEING SEXUALLY ASSAULTED, THEN, OKAY, BRING IT ON. If not, then bingo. I'll have a great night's sleep. And guess what? I'm still alive!

So, tonight, when I go to bed, I'll have to consider all my options. Sleep with the door opened and pretend I'm not afraid? Or, keep the door locked and enjoy the fact I won't be killed after all. Now HERE'S an issue for vacillation.

ALL ABOUT MY SEX LIFE

Are you NUTS??

You think this is something I'm actually going to write about?? Oh man... have YOU ever got the wrong idea. Talk about wishful thinking, though. I do have to admit, however, it IS a pretty catchy title.

On the other hand, if it helps any, as you can see in the picuture... I AM smiling!