CALL THE SHRINK

I was so hoping to win the NC $240 million Power Ball Lottery a couple of weeks ago. Damn. I didn't. Damn. Instead, this really old guy from Missouri did. He and his equally old wife. And, in a round about way, so did his three sons, two of whom just lost their jobs. I saw this family on TV earlier today. Boy, did THEY look happy! And, I was kinda glad for everyone. In an extremely jealous sort of way.

I was also kinda thinking that I hope they STAY happy. I keep hearing again and again about folks who win fabulous amounts of money in the lottery, only to eventually declare bankruptcy. WHAT?? HOW CAN THAT BE??? I'll tell you how: they're nuts!! Talk about letting something go to your head. To your outta control, crazy-ass head, if you ask me.

Apparently there are a lot of people who win major big money. And, a lot them go out, buying everything they possibly can; and I do mean EVERYthing. People who one day can hardly maintain their old beat-up looking Ford Escort are, the very next day, hiring private jets to fly them all over the world. Or, after happily living in the same 1000 square foot home for 20 years, the winners decide that all of a sudden the family homestead now needs to be more along the lines of a three story 30,000 square foot estate with naturally, a working elevator. Of course, inVESTing the money in some really safe, well diversified financial portfolio is never up for consideration. Ergo: good-bye incredibly lucky new found wealth. NEWS ALERT TO WINNING FAMILIES: Have you any idea how much it takes to mainTAIN such a life style?? Oops. Oh yeah... we forgot about that part.

Which is why, when I saw this lucky son of a gun lottery winning guy on TV today, surrounded by his wife and family, MY first thought was: Quick! Get an appointment with the best shrink you can find IMMEDIATELY and ask him/her to assess your mental health, in hopes you can FORGET ABOUT BLOWING ALL THE DIZZYING DOUGH IN A MATTER OF MERE STUPID MONTHS. To me, THAT would be a smart financial move. Factoring in of course, a call to a fabulous accountant. Actually, according my own Linda's School of Modern Psychiatry, I'd quickly suggest that this guy change his phone number so every relative, friend, bookie, and collections dept. will never again be able to find him.

But, definitely first on the list, would be contacting the shrink. I mean, really. Can you iMAGine how far off the chart people need to be, to foolishly squander away MILLIONS of dollars??? In no time flat?? Now THAT is what I'd call an ingrate. Me, on the other hand?? I would be SO DAMN GRATEFUL that I'd make my appointment right after I BUY the darn ticket! Geez... if only I could be so lucky.

BLOWING

Okay. Good. I've got your attention. Sorry to disappoint but the blowing I'm referring to is: blowing my hair out. Pretty soon I'm going to be blowing my brains out. It takes way longer than the normal 6 minutes I usually want to spend primping and fussing. Add another 6 minutes for finding something to wear, putting it on, adding the right accessories and bingo. I'm done with my prep work in what? A short 12 minutes.

But NOW, jeez... I've got all kinds of crapola I'm supposed to be doing for my locks. First, work in the volumizing cream. Second, gather the huge round brush and blow dryer. Third, spend 10 minutes blowing it out. Fourth, comb it out. Fifth, tease a bit and fluff it out. Sixth set the style and finally, Seventh, add a bit of finishing spray. THIS IS CRAZY! You have any idea how long this TAKES?? Wayyyyyy longer than my preferable routine of parting hair, comb it out, pull it back, add a scrunchie. I am so telling you... I'm thinking of firing my housekeeper and instead, hiring an on site beautician.

Which is why today, I tried an experiment. I got out of the shower, added the volumizing cream and then... DID NOTHING ELSE. Not even comb it! Rather, I fingered... ahem, pardon the french... my hair into place and merely let it air dry. YIPPEE! SO MUCH FASTER. Not necessarily as sleek looking of course, but so be it. Years ago I paid big bucks for curly hair, given I love curls so much, therefore this "loose" natural look just may be the ticket. And... it keeps right in step with my 6 minute rule!

Now... if only I could forgo the make-up bit. I am so jealous of friends who opt for the unmade, au naturale look. Yet, a tape keeps playing in my head whereby my Mother used to say: Uh... if movie stars need make-up, what makes you think YOU don't?? Therefore, from as far back as 16 years old, I apply make-up daily, before venturing out. As for needing the help of cosmetics, let me just say this: IT WORKS. Without it, I look crappy as hell. Some days, even bordering on scary. Besides, up until the age of 81, my mother always looked beautifully refined, impeccable and made up. Thus at my age, I guess I can, too. AND she blew out her hair every morning. So in the end... Mother Knows Best. Yet still I say, the bottom line: hair drying blows!

THE BALL COCK

Some title, huh?? In the meantime, don't get all huffy-puffy on me. I'm not trying to push any envelope here. Instead, I'm referring to the fill valve of a toilet. MY toilet, to be exact. I must tell you though, my girlfriend, Sue, DID tell me this particular plumbing item is definitely my kind of terminology. I mean really... the plumbers of old couldn't come up with any OTHER name for these mechanisms?? Geesh. I'd have loved to have been at THAT vocabulary meeting, alright. OKAY BOYS: HERE'S AN IDEA FOR YOU. FORGET ABOUT FILL VALVE.... WE'RE NAMING IT A BALL COCK, INSTEAD.

In the meantime, Sue is my go-to friend for the post-flushing water problem in my guest bathroom toilet. Way before Sue began working at Home Depot, she began perfecting the home improvement bit, and I've been impressed, indeed. Me? I simply hire someone. Sue? She checks a book out from the library and actually LEARNS. Soooo not my style.

Anyway, this toilet has been acting up for a couple of months now, and it would seem sensible that I'd get right on it (so to speak) regarding it's repair. However, it's not the toilet I normally use, so hey. Why worry? Yet... I DO know right from wrong. Thus, it's becoming apparent that the time is right for me to... ahem... attend to the ball cock. It was Sue who told me that's where the trouble lay; before she diagnosed and named the problem I had NO clue of such goings on. That there even WAS an alternate meaning to these terms, was indeed news to me.

Such news, that Sue's first direction was for me to remove the tank top (a t-shirt is down there?) check out the parts, see what type they were, come to the store and give a full report on the inner workings. WHOA... WAS SHE CRAZY??? I'M GOING TO INVESTIGATE THE TOILET TANK?? ANTE UP A REPORT ON IT, NO LESS?? What the hell must Sue be THINKING??? Oh my God. This was so not the way it was going to be.

Suffice it to say, I told Sue she had it WAY all backwards. I made it clear SHE's doing the checking/reporting/touching/etc. I'm merely doing the listening/purchasing. Which I'll do on Tuesday when we have tentative plans for her to show up here. So.... for all my bathroom using friends, all I can say is: HELP IS ON THE WAY. In no time flat, the ball cock will be in perfect working order. And afterall, perfect IS the way we like ball cocks best. Oh... and the fill valve, too.

CALL ME IN JUNE

I began work this week and all I can say is: life as I knew it, is basically over. I'M WHIPPED by the time I get home. You'd almost think I was running the Pentagon or something. I can't believe it. Getting back into this world of working non stop almost 6 hours a day is CRAZY. But... I get paid, so I can't really complain. Wait... maybe I can.

Take today for instance. It was nuts. During the 5 and 3/4 hours I'm on the job each day, I need to test the reading skills for over 50 students. EEEKS. Talk about a rush job. I need to administer 3 quickie tests and at almost all times I've got a back log of maybe 3 students. It gets intense, trust me.

Which is why I head home right smack after school, decline all sorts of social festivities on school nights and begin my yoga session as soon as possible. I turn on no radio, no TV and answer no phone. In fact, I can see already, that I'll need to add at least 10 minutes of meditation to my yoga workout, just to help make sure I come back to earth each day. Living the Wired Life is not, and never has been, my kind of living.

Therefore, as best I can tell, it could easily be next June before I return to my normal mode of operation. Wanna make plans for next summer?? Great! I'll begin blocking out the calendar right away.

CRAZY COLD

Now that I'm so damn hot, I am suddenly moved to address the cold. Temps, that is. My former husband used to tell me I should contemplate marrying a meteorologist, given I am a such devotee of local weather reports. I wasn't always committed to forecasts; it began only once my now 24 year old son began pre-school. Which now that I think of it, was pretty idiotic, considering I lived in South Florida. How the hell much different could the weather possibly be from day to day?? UH, FOLKS... TODAY IS GOING TO BE HOT. TOMORROW WILL BE EVEN HOTTER. AND THE REST OF THE WEEK... WELL, THEN IT ALL CHANGES OVER TO... what else? OPPRESSIVE! Boom. The forecast is complete.

No mention is even NECessary regarding 3 p.m. thunderstorms. You're going to carpool? Bingo. Bring along storm gear. End of story. Except of course for when the BIG weather event enters the picture. As in: Hurricanes. You can only iMAGine my attentiveness to THOSE forecasts. Jesus. I began popping valium way before the eye even formed! A system left the African coast on Sunday?? Oh... okay. Meds begin on Monday.

In the meantime, I NOW live in a city that actually has four stunning seasons. Oh, how I love it. The summers get hot, but not to worry. After 11 short weeks, autumn (my all time favorite season) kicks in. AND it snows here!! Xmas is no longer a scam. All in all, as you can see, my eye is on weather reports almost non stop. BUT, TONIGHT? Whoa... my eye is REALLY on the lookout.

GET THIS... figuring in the wind chill factor, SINGLE DIGITS!! Are you kidding me?? I live in Vermont?? Geez... it's 8 o'clock right now and already I'm reading 30 degrees. And... winds will be gusting up to 20 mph. Holy Ba Holy. Therefore, evening activities: 1.) Run hot bubble bath 2.) Get out hot chocolate/marshmellows 3.) Light fire 4.) Pray heating system doesn't go on the fritz. Last but not least: GREETINGS FROM THE NORTH POLE.

IT WORKS!

So, it's been exactly a week now, since I've become a blond and I'm so telling you... IT'S TRUE. Blonds DO have more fun. I've had an incredible week, to say the least. Some of which I can discuss; some of which I can't. But suffice it to say... it's been a fabulous 7 days.

Case in point: I GOT A JOB!! Finally!! I've been sending out applications, applying for positions, reading the classifieds, waiting for decisions, whatever, for over a year now. I become a blond and boom! Right out of the blue, I get a call asking me to work at a school 4 mins. from my house, 4 days a week, 5 hours a day. GOD SUDDENLY DECIDED TO SMILE DOWN UPON ME?? Apparently so!

Another case in point: I was called for Jury Duty this week. OH GOD, PLEASE DON'T LET ME BE SELECTED! Such was the prayer I was reciting as I literally walked into the Courthouse. I had important alternate plans that I REALLY wanted to opt for and Jury Duty simply wasn't in the game plan. ONCE AGAIN... God decided to smile down upon me. HOW LUCKY CAN I GET?? A sheer miracle.

Yet another case in point: Uh... Sorry. No can do.

Last case in point: This afternoon I was waiting for Claudia outside a store, and while she was shopping, I comfortably parked myself on a comfy outdoor bench. The day was beautiful and the weather was stunning. Thus, it didn't take but minutes for this perfectly attractive gentleman to come sit down beside me. He's over sixty; perfect. He's also got a terrific smile and football physique; again, perfect. We started chit chatting and had a great time shooting the breeze. After about 5 minutes, a very pretty woman comes up to me and says: SEE? I LEAVE HIM ALONE FOR A SECOND AND ALREADY HE'S SITTING NEXT TO A BEAUTIFUL BLOND! To which I of course, replied: Well to tell you the truth... this has been blond but for only a week and indeed... I'm having more fun! The lady laughed and queried about my many OTHER pick ups, so I felt mildy obligated to let her know the only one that stands out as a possibility was the waiter who told me how much he liked my perfume. He liked it even better after I leaned in, giving him a closer treat, but so be it.

Anyway... it seems as if being blond is turning out to be a good thing. In fact, my luck is going so beautifully as a blond, that I actually went out to buy a lottery ticket yesterday. Hey... I'm on a roll, aren't I? I haven't checked my winnings yet, but you can be sure... should I win, YOU'LL KNOW ALL ABOUT IT.

Geez... I can hardly wait for Week Two of Living Blond. For all we know, maybe I'll be married!

A GREAT MIRACLE HAPPENED THERE

During Chanukah, children play with their toy Dreidels, whose letters mean:A Great Miracle Happened There. Well, guess what? TWO miracles happened right here this morning, both of which took me by astounding surprise. The first one... and the most important, happened while I was standing in my computer room, on the phone with Claudia, catching a glance of myself in the full length mirror. Shocked, and completely disregarding whatever Claudia was saying, I turned to Pat, who was in the midst of cleaning my bookshelf and said in a voice of utter amazement...

OH MY GOD. LOOK, PAT! I ALMOST LOOK NORMAL SIZE!

I couldn't believe it. In the mirror, was the reflection of... I swear to God... a person who actually looked like a normal misses' sized woman! WHAT A F-ing miracle!! ME?? SHOP IN THE MISSY DEPTARTMENT?? Just can't BE! Jesus... if only I weren't expecting someone to stop by in a little while, I'd run right outta here and buy a multi million dollar wardrobe, all in a size 12. Well, okay... 14. Still... either my mirror is totally playing a mean joke on me or I'VE DIED AND GONE TO HEAVEN.

As if that's not enough, get this... ANOTHER miracle also happened today. It began the other night when I had lit a candle on the mantle above the fireplace. The candle is held in a holder about a 30 inches tall. Thus, a LOT of care needs to be taken when raising/lowering melting candles. Uh... unfortunately I didn't take ENOUGH care. Next thing I know ALL THE HOT WAX CAME STREAMING DOWN THE ENTIRE FRONT OF MY FAVORITE BLACK KNIT SHIRT. I held my panic mode to a minimum, but still, I could tell this wasn't a good thing. The heat was no problem, but the hardened yellow wax covering my shirt was FAR from an added touch to the preceding stylin' look. Enter: dilemma. What to do next?? I could go on and on about the details of my deciding what I should do to save this adored garment, but suffice it to say, the shirt wound up in my freezer. I did in fact make some mild progress in peeling away the frozen wax, but in no time, I could see I was getting no where fast. IDEA FLASH: I went to the internet; Googled REMOVE WAX FROM CLOTHING.

Boom. In a mere instant, I had my solution! HINTS FROM LINDA: Get a hot iron. Place a paper towel atop the waxed area. Iron. BINGO. WAX IS LIFTED FROM CLOTHING. It was a sheer miracle, definitely bordering on astounding! See?? Being hot and heated is not JUST about looking foxy... apparently it's also about being miraculous!

AM I HAVING MORE FUN??

Well, as the last American woman to do it, I finally caved in and had my hair highlighted. Four years ago, I was still a dark brunette. Three years ago, I was a much lighter brunette. Next thing I knew, about a year ago, I became a beige/brown/reddish sorta dark dirty blonde. But... no more my friend. As of this afternoon, I am SO blonde that Barbara didn't even recognize me as I came up the walk. Claudia has taken to calling me Marilyn and/or Anna Nicole. And... none of my hair scrunchies are even CLOSE to my new color.

Both Claudia and Barbara told me to go to Angie to have her give me highlights. Being an obedient sister, I did. Angie was terrific; she listened to all my hair issues and was pretty much on the same page as I. She agreed that highlights were the way to go... not low lights as Claudia wanted. I explained how I never wear my hair down... I much prefer it off my face. She agreed and told me that the way I wear it, pulled back (much to the chagrin of almost every female friend I know) was a nice, polished look for me.

Uh... until Angie blew it out, that is.

After the blowout, I showed her how it looks when worn down. In 2 seconds flat, she told me I'm not ever again allowed to wear it pulled back at the nape of the neck. IT WAS AN ORDER. She loved the "younger" looking me. Angie ALSO ordered me to wait 3 weeks before I did my roots again. So, naturally... the first thing I did when I got home was: DO MY ROOTS. I had to! I couldn't help it. Seems as if the all the hanging strands of hair were indeed highlighted and stunning to look at BUT... the roots weren't covered! And, since my whole reason for the highlighting was to cover/help my roots, I figured, tough. I'm on my own time now.I'M making the laws!

So... all I can say, after today's makeover is: 1.) this new blond look is VERY successful (although I have neither the figure of Marilyn nor the chest of Anna Nicole) 2.) everyone who's seen my new do is wild about it (Deanna will love seeing it down) 3.) I'm placing bets on whether or not I'll have more fun (Doug said he'd be happy to bed me) and 4.) only my hair dresser knows for sure!

MISS ME???

I haven't posted a blog entry in quite a while. God knows what I've been doing, but whether or not it's been anything of significance, the days still passed one by one, until boom. The next thing I knew, days became weeks. Which really isn't such a big deal, given I really had nothing earth shattering about which to write. Since I last wrote however, I HAVE made a few decisions:

1.) I am taking a hiatus from hosting my weekly KnitWits group. Every Tuesday night for the past three years, any where from 5-15 women would join me for a few hours as we nibbled, gossiped and knitted. It was a great way to spend a Tuesday evening. We celebrated birthdays, we made beautiful scarves, sweaters, hats and whatever else someone wanted. The prize for finishing a project was a trip to my candy bar dish where the KnitWit could chose a chocolate candy of their choice. We even debated at times, but most of all, we laughed. Then, last week, for some unknown reason, right out of the blue, I decided I was ready for a hiatus. NEWS ALERT: DON'T SHOW UP NEXT TUESDAY. I'll probably be in a luxurious bubble bath sipping some fine champagne, perhaps. Well, okay... probably diet coke.

2.) I am back into my daily practice of yoga. I love how I feel during my yoga routine and even more, I love how I feel when I've completed a session. I love the peace and calm yoga brings to me but most of all, I love knowing I can bend over and wrap my hands around my ankles with straightened knees. It lets me pretend I'm as flexible as any modern day teen. My other favorite position is sitting on bended knees, with my full weight resting the heels of my feet . I call it my Geisha Girl Pose.

3.) I decided to once again begin testing my blood sugar which is something I never do, regardless of doctor's orders. Boy, is SHE going to be surprised. I am normally a pretty lazy patient thus following doctor's orders usually go only as far as popping a pill to make myself feel better. As in: pain killers, antibiotics, allergy pills and of course the occasional anti-anxiety med. Any medical order that consists of nothing more than swallowing a small pill for a big result, is my kind of modern medicine.

4.) The last decision I made was done so while at a party a couple of days ago. I was having a great time, hanging with good friends and munching on delicious food. So good, in fact, that it took but maybe an hour or so when, boom. My ultra sensitive digestive system kicked in. Enter: Bathroom visit. While in this very nice bathroom, I was looking around and eeeks. What should I see? A HUGE UPRIGHT BATHROOM SCALE!! What?? People actually go out of their way to uh... get weighed??? Are they crazy?? Who on earth would ever want to KNOW such information?? It was then and there that I made my final decision: these friends... people whom I simple adore... must be absolutely full blown masochists! WHO KNEW? Folks actually WANT to check out their weight?? Jesus. In my book, that's just plain CRAZY! And, hopefully, being crazy is waaaay better than being masochistic.

WARHOL ON THE CHEAP

I was watching a show on TV today. One of the home decor shows. And I saw an idea that sorta caught my fancy. You're looking at it right next to this text. While you may think it's the turquoise coloring that makes it remarkable, it's actually something else, altogether.

First of all, on the TV show, they talked about taking a personal photo, zeroing in on just part of the face, blowing it up, colorizing it any color you want, making about 5 copies and then... hanging the photos in a uniform way on the wall. It's a kind of a cheapo way of getting a homemade Andy Warhol portrait. Anyway, it all sounded pretty interesting, so I got up and went right to the computer to create my OWN Warhol lookalike. What you're seeing is the finished piece. For a lot less than Andy would have charged. too. I'm thinking maybe I'll hang 5 of them above the headboard of my bed. All in different colors. Keyword: maybe.

Secondly, what I found most interesting, is that I even allowed this picture to be taken at all. Number one, I don't even think I have on any make up. Number two, what you don't see is that I'm wearing nothing but a spaghetti strap black nightgown. And number three... which is the reason the picture was taken in the first place... is the fact that you'd NEVER see me with my hair down. Thus... what makes this shot noteworthy. SO noteworthy in fact, that as you can see, folks apparently decided it required actual documentation.

And, it's a good thing they did. For, when searching my files for a picture of me that would, in fact, work best for my Warhol project, bingo. This was the only shot that was in the running. Which isn't saying much as far as how photogenic I may be. Regardless, I printed out an 8x10 picture but am far from making any final decision as to whether or not I should follow through on this decorating idea. Actually, to help make up my mind, I took the printed page and hung it up on the front of my upper oven. This way, I can stare at it to my heart's content, wondering if I should/should not complete this deal.

So... whether or not I ever hang my Warhol portraits above my bed, I just don't know. What I DO know however, is that you better take a good long look at this pict. 10 to 1, It's the last time you'll ever see me with my hair down for a lonnnnnng time yet to come.

GOING APE

The online dictionary states that going ape means: to become wildly excited or enthusiastic. I myself am adding the nuance whereby it connotes not only excitement, but HAPPY excitement, specifically. Which is why I am SOOO not going ape. Instead, I'm going ape s**t. And believe you me, that's a whole DIFFERENT story altogether. THAT word, the online dictionary defines as: to become agitated, upset, or enraged. In other words... FLIPPED FREAKIN' OUT.

Which is exactly how I've felt the past two hours. I've been subjected to such horror and panic while watching televsion that my heart is STILL pounding, as we speak. And, there's another hour yet to go which naturally, I won't be seeing.

What, you ask, has elicited such fear in me? The one movie I was dying to catch on HBO. THAT'S what. And now that I've caught it, get this... I thought I WOULD to die while watching it. Gee. Thanks, Hollywood.

There I was, all settled in, happily knitting a scarf for a special friend. I zipped through the channels, and lo and behold... what should JUST be starting, but... yippee! KING KONG! The movie I couldn't wait to see! Yup... this had all the makings of a fabulous way to spend a cozy couple of hours.

Jesus. What a fool I was. I had NO clue this version of King Kong wanted to tear your heart out. While the King Kong film of days gone by was actually kind of fun to watch, THIS one was fun to watch only if you consider terror and fear a good thing. I, of course, do not. In this new version, there are MAjor wild beasts, WAY uncivilizied tribes of people, voo-doo up the kazoo and all KINDS of crazy ass creatures. Kinda like Jurassic Park, but with pygmie type dregs of society inflicting unimaginable chaos while behaving comPLETly outta control. And, for your viewing pleasure, this tribal/beast madness goes on for at least an hour. WHAT?? THIS IS A MOVIE?? ARE THEY NUTS??

I swear to God... after investing two hours, I simply had to say ADIOS, PANDEMONIUM. Thanks, but no thanks. I was actually at a place where I had to truly protect myself since it WAS almost bedtime; and I sort of like going to bed withOUT the fear of nightmares. Which was too bad. I really would have liked to know what happened after all the people were eatten alive. Did the ape ever see New York? Did he develop a thing for the starlet? Did guy ever get to ... which is the main theme of the movie... make his film?

Alas, I'll apparently never know. But, I do know this. If you choose to watch this movie, grab your popcorn... AND your valium. You'll need it.

A WORLD OF FIRSTS

Many years ago, my step son once came home from college wearing a t-shirt with which I fell in love. It was a promotional shirt from a bank... First Union, maybe. On the back of the t-shirt was a huge list of all sorts of phrases connected with word FIRST. For some crazy reason, I became so intrigued with this list; probably because I thought it was one of the most clever things I'd ever seen. Besides, I do so admire imaginative advertising.

Apparently, the intrique stayed with me, even up until this very day. In fact, I've often tried to recreate this List of Firsts in my mind, wishing I could actually remember everything on Joshua's t-shirt. Which is pretty funny, given I can't even remember what the hell I did just yesterday. BUT... I'm not one to give up easily. Thus... I sat down last night, having decided to FINALLY recreate a list of any phrase with which one associates the word FIRST. I actually had a pretty good time working on it, too.

ANNOUNCEMENT! Below is the list! Check it out. Who knows... maybe you'll even be the first one to read it!

first aid
First Amendment
first and foremost
first and last
first appearance
first balcony
first step
first kiss
first look
first place
first in line
first thought
first time
first husband
first class
first act
first word
first base
first gear
first verse
first sign
First Commandment
first frost
first line
first off
first of all
first born
first love
First Lady
first name
first known
first chance
first person
First World War
first row
first date
First Noel
first punch
first chapter
first order
first half
first right of refusal
first sight
first generation
first priority
first impression
First Thanksgiving
first bite
First Family
first snow
first glance
first edition
first attempt
first quarter
first piece
first birthday
first row

I KNEW IT!

Finally. Someone has come to their senses and documented something I've contended for years. Money DOES buy happiness. "There is overwhelming evidence that money buys happiness," said economist Andrew Oswald of the University of Warwick in England. The main debate, he said, is how strong the effect is."

Yeah. Yeah. I know money is not the end all, but believe me... it can do alot to make you smile. Let alone, sleep well at night. I also know it doesn't buy you good health, but guess what. It CAN make sure you're seen by the best specialists in the country. Which I consider is an excellent way to at least get your foot in the right door. And, speaking of doors, I'm thinking I'll be way happier walking into the Ritz Carlton than walking into Motel 6. I'll also be a hell of a lot happier hiring an attorney more along the lines of Melvin Beli than my local Public Defender.

A year and a half ago, I actually had a real life revelation proving my personal theory. I had had major surgery and was pretty down in the dumps. Which is very unusual for me. ESPECIALLY on my birthday. Yet, there I was, on the day of my birthday, in plenty of pain, laying around and wearing some crappy nightgown. I took all sorts of calls from family and friends with birthday wishes but there was no denying I was in no mood for such frivolity. Well, not until 7 o'clock that evening, anyway.

There I was, looking and feeling pretty much like garbage, when bingo. The doorbell rang and one by one a bunch of friends walked in. With them was a parade of smiles, a birthday cake and... a birthday present. A really GREAT one, too. The kind that proved immediately, PRESENTS DO MAKE ME HAPPY! PRICEY ONES, ESPECIALLY. The gift, it turns out was a fabulous digital camera and I fell in love with it 1-2-3!!! Talk about a medical break through! I was suddenly prancing right on Cloud Nine and within MINUTES you'd have never thought I spent the day in apathetic doldrums. I'm so telling you... I was blowing out candles, making wishes, running all around getting drinks and simply howling with laughter like there was no tomorrow.

It was then that I confirmed everything about myself I had always suspected. Money, surprises and presents CAN bring me happiness. It can also bring me freedom, security, serenity and sanity. Which, to me, IS what happiness is all about.

THE HAPPY TOWN

Once upon a time, in a land way up in the cool mountain air, in a town both charming and happy, there lived a smiling group of many people. Now... these people didn't ALWAYS live in the mountains. First, they lived ALL over the big country, working hard, raising families, and sure enough, aquiring lots of money so they could all one day, gather together to celebrate (or soon to celebrate) their 65th birthday!

The 65th Birthday Celebrations in this beautiful, small town are always sure to be a big bash. Some invite LOTS of people. Some have smaller gatherings. Some have their parties at fancy restaurants while others enjoy a wonderful party at home. But whichever they choose, you can always be sure that the Birthday Boy or Girl is wearing a BIGGGG, happy smile. Why, you ask??

Well, for many reasons, actually. But probably the REAL reason these boys and girls are dancing all around is that FINALLY... THEY NO LONGER NEED TO PAY FOR HIGH COST MEDICAL INSURANCE POLICIES! YIPPPEE! THEY ARE NOW ACTUALLY TRUE-BLUE MEDICARE RECIEPIENTS!!

Now... some of the people in this town have been on Medicare for years already. Others are counting the days until they qualify. But regardless of when it happens, the momentous 65th Birthday always bring about the same reaction. DANCING IN THE STREET. CRAZY GRINS ON THEIR FACES. Sometimes, even sarcastic jokes, all the while ripping up medical bills right smack in front of your face. NOW, THE BOYS AND GIRLS CAN SPEND THEIR MONIES ON SOMETHING FUN instead of the rising costs of modern medicine! Like cruises, maybe. Visiting the grandchildren perhaps. Or large, expensive golfing communities, even.

YEA! everyone likes to shout. LET'S HEAR IT FOR MEDICARE! LET'S TAKE OUR SAVED MEDICAL MONIES AND LAUGH ALL THE WAY TO THE BANK. Oh how lucky the town was feeling. Well... until about 4 months ago, anyway.

First there was Sherry. She had her arm put in a cast. Then, finally her knee in a brace. Then Susan cried out in pain one day. She now wears a leg brace, using her cane. Even Marlene has a foot all wrapped up. And, who could forget about Teddi, whose hand has a thumb in a brace, pointing almost straight up to the sky! Wait... what about Vicky who, for the past 3 years, has been walking in an open toed cast after having two surgeries on her foot? Oh my. The list just keeps growing and growing. Sue, Jay, Babe and Peggy. Every Tom, Dick and Harry, too.

But alas, all these people in the happy little town are still wearing a smile. Yes, even though the doctor's offices are run by little mechanical elves and the doctors have no clue of exactly how to ease the pains, the smiling townspeople keep plugging along. Oh sure, some days are better than others. And some boys and girls heal faster than others. But through it all, Medicare is picking up the bill. HIP, HIP, HOORAY! HIP, HIP, HOORAY!

Even the doctors in the town are shouting out in glee. Well, why not? THEY are the ones being PAID to replace all these hips! Or knees. Or hearing aids. Or eyeglasses. Or, you name it. They're fixing it.

Gee.... isn't it fun being 65???

I MUST CONFESS

There's no doubt about it... Madonna wins the prize as one of THE most talented musical artists EVER. I swear to God... after watching her special tonight, THE CONFESSIONS TOUR, I have to congratulate myself for having picked her out the lineup, way back in the late 8Os, as a major fabulous musical force. It was then that I watched, listened, gasped and gloried. I remember thinking Jesus... who IS this mover and shaker? I also remember watching her on TV's American Music Awards while she did her performance of LIKE A VIRGIN. I immediately called my brother to say: Uh oh. The musical world has definitely now gone to all out hell. Such was the sexy shock I felt at watching Madonna perform, crawling in an erotic pose wearing a shabby chic white laced skirt and satin corset. Uh... not your Mother's Perry Como, to say the least.

In spite of taking me by complete surprise, within the next 8 years, Madonna recorded some of my alltime favorite music. While I never had a daughter of my own, I did have a teen aged step daughter and I'll never forget the nights I chauffeured her and her many adorable friends, all the while singing at the top of our lungs all the songs on my copy of Madonna's CD, IMMACUALATE COLLECTION. To this day, it's still one of the best CD's ever recorded.

As if THAT'S not enough, Madonna, who's now well into her 40s has THE most incredible rock hard body you've ever seen. Shit. When God was handing out the goodies, I swear, he was having a most remarkable day, giving Madonna the looks, brains, talent and hutzpah for which all others would kill. On the other hand, at a very young age, she lost her Mother, so.... I better be careful of my jealous tradeoffs. In the meantime, watching her move that rock hard muscle toned body could almost make an aging ole lady give pause and rethink her sexual orientation. This Madonna, unlike the biblical one, is one HOT mama.

Uh... and this Madonna, unlike the biblical one, is far from pure. Thank God for small favors.

C IS FOR COOKIE

I remember with a smile, days gone by, when my son would sit on my lap and together we'd watch Sesame Street. First at 9 a.m. and then again at 4 p.m. Which is why I simply adore this picture. It's so sacrilegious, that it makes me laugh right out loud to imagine how the Muppet Family could possibly feast on this. Let alone wear a smile while doing so. I myself was never a big fan of Big Bird. Nor of Oscar. Or even Bert, for that matter. For ME, I'd choose Ernie in a heartbeat. Besides, he had the best songs to sing.

But that aside, any notion of a Thanksgiving celebration where supping on Big Bird is an okay thing to depict, is to me, a humorously sick yet oh so clever an idea. I love the brains that are capable of creating this image, although granted, it's definitely pushing the envelope. I just wished I had the nerve to send this out as a Happy Thanksgiving card to everyone I know. I can't, however. I'm afraid I'll be brutalized by the PBS Association of American Parents or something.

I still have favorite songs from watching Sesame Street. And, as I mentioned, Ernie was my favorite character. He was always so happy and cheerful, so polite and so smart. Bert, on the other hand, almost needed Prozac at times. I always got the feeling that Ernie was the more wordly of the two and believe me, I'll take the more worldly over the more depressed, any day. Granted, I may be all wrong about Bert. It's just that if memory serves me (and often it doesn't) Ernie was the way more happening of the duo.

Regardless, I wish all my family and friends a very Happy Thanksgiving. I wish you a wonderful celebration, surrounded with people you love and enjoy. And, as for me, I just wish I could find my copy of FREE TO BE, YOU AND ME.

TOYS AND TOOLS

Remember Tupperware Parties? Well, get this... Passion Parites are where you want to be nowadays. And, it's not just for Generation X anymore. While having breakfast with some favorite friends of mine today, the subject of "toy"s came up. Uh... and I'm not talking Toys R Us, either. Needless to say, we all get quite a rollicking chuckle everytime conversations of this ilk come about. According to the experts in the group, we have ABC's The View to thank for making topics such as this acceptable ladylike banter. That and airport security. Putting your carry on bag through the security sensors apparently spot this sort of deal with great ease. Who knew?

In the meantime, MY personal favorite toy is a battery operation of a different kind: my cordless power tools. You should have seen me the day I got my first cordless drill and it's accompanying drill bits. I felt like I was on top of the world. The guy at Home Depot was very patient with me and taught me everything I needed to know about butterfly bolts. I came home and ran through the dry walled house like a nut FINALLY able to drill in anchors all over the place so I could hang my heavier frames, art objects, etc. I was in Cordless Heaven. Couple that with my cordless screw driver, my electric sander and my electric staple gun and boom. I'm a regular Man Around the House. To this day, I'm dying to own an electric saw.

A few years ago Barbara and I went to our local Community College for a class in woodworking. We figured 1.) we'd constuct an excellent household item by the end of the semester and more importantly, 2.) it would be a great place to hook up with friendly men. As it turned out, 15 other women had the same idea, The class was comprised of 17 females and 3 males. To my way of thinking, you'd have to be pretty damn friendly to beat THOSE kind of odds. Which of course is why we dropped out right after the 2nd class. But, BOY! Did this college workshop have SAWS!! Scarey ones, too. I took one look at the gigantic electric saws, gave a quick glance down to my fingers and immediately determined I love my fingers more. So much for the class. As we exited though, we naturally took a detour into the auto parts classroom. So THAT'S where the men hang out.

DAY SURGERY

I swear to God... Monica is a genius. And, apparently, she is also a master surgeon. After having lunch today, Monica came back home with me and together we were going to begin making a zillion dollars by selling on Ebay. As it happens, the listing of the sale was the easy part. Even finding something to sell was easy enough. It was receiving PAYMENT for said sales that threw us into a tizzy. Well, threw me, anyway.

Turns out, that to sell on Ebay you first need a PayPal account which is something I already have, given all my past auction purchases. Buying is as easy as 1-2-3. Selling is another story altogether. I need to be verified on PayPal? I need a Premier Acc't? I need a Business Acc't? A simple Personal Acc't will work just as well? Jesus... It was nuts. Monica wanted me to read all the thousands of new links we clicked on, but actually my thought was: thanks, but no thanks. How could I? I couldn't even figure out the darn LIST itself. There were zillions of links, but never the one that would answer the actual question I was seeking. Besides, Monica tried all the links herself while I fetched a glass of wine and STILL we were no closer than we were 4 hours earlier.

Things were becoming such a chore that at one point we decided take a break and go find an item for my quote Practice Sale. In the basement I came across a Lenox vase I never use. Bingo. Mission accomplished. We signed back onto Ebay, checked out any competing vases and get this... I ALMOST WOUND UP BUYING FROM MY COMPETITION! I swear... for a mere $9.99 (which the Lenox website said was worth $60) I could buy a vase exactly like the one I was getting ready to sell! YIKES. I could now have a set!! Talk about dilemmas! And, talk about an idiot... I began the day hell bent on downsizing. Next thing I know I'm this far from upgrading my ITEMS THAT SIT ON BASEMENT SHELVES! Don't ask.

Anyway, the topper of the day was when, hours into our PayPal project, poor Monica was in SUCH back pain, she finally allowed me to give her 3 Advil. No sooner had she swallowed the meds than she announced she was going to lay on the floor to help the pain subside. The next thing I know, Monica brought her leg up to her chest, crossed her knee over the side of her body for no more than 6 seconds AND BOOM! SHE HOPS UP, READY TO DO ANY KIND OF CALISTHENICS YOU COULD POSSIBLY IMAGINE! As a back pain sufferer myself, I was in sheer shock. It was like MAGICAL 6 SECOND SURGERY and never in my life have I ever seen such a recovery. I'm telling you... I was SHOCKED. So shocked, in fact, I was ready to call ABC's Dr. Timothy Johnson and report Monica's miraculous pain relief technique. Monica actually crunched a back bone right back in place in a mere blink of an eye! Honestly. Had I turned around to sneeze or something, I would have missed the entire surgery altogether.

Which to me, means only one thing. Monica has no need whatsover of selling on Ebay to become rich and famous. Rather, she needs to get to an AMA annual meeting and report her unbelievable back relief techniques IMMEDIATELY. I, on the other hand, have to find a doctorate program to teach me all about PayPal.

MY LUCKY DAY

Well, whatta ya know. Seems as if what goes around comes around. Like all of a sudden it's BETTER for you to now have butter rather than margarine. Also, coffee with caffeine is, it turns out to be, a GOOD thing. As if that's not enough, dark chocolate is currently, recommended eating!

Today I learned even luckier news. Get this... in the contest of having a doughnut for breakfast vs. having no breakfast at all, THE DOUGHNUT WINS! YIPPEE! Now THAT'S the kind of news I love to hear. FINALLY. Someone in Nutrition Heaven is seeing the light. They're seeing so much light as a matter of fact, they're also telling me that Coke is a better choice than lemonade. Apparently, it's the sugar issue that puts lemonade on the DO NOT DRINK list. My, how things have changed.

In the meantime, when my girlfriend, Linda, was here visiting me this week, she complied with my request to make my all time favorite recipe... her Chicken Francaise. In fact, we wound up having a kind of small, very last minute dinner party which was a real treat for me. She did the shopping, she did the prep work, and she did the cooking. But even I know when things are over the top.

While passing through the kitchen, I happened to see Linda making the sauce and EEKS. I saw TWO HUGE whole sticks of butter in the pan!! I gasped with fright. She, on the other hand, told me to get the hell out of the kitchen. WHAT?? You're allowed to use that much butter?? Linda wanted to add more, I think, but there was just no way I could, in good faith, allow it. (wouldn't my Mother be proud)

As it turned out, the dinner that evening was FABULOUS. Not only because the meal was so delicious, but also... HALLELUJAH!... the Republicans fell like dead weights here, there, and everywhere. So actually, if my luck keeps on pointing in such happy directions, I'll one day learn that french fries are way better for you than baked potatoes! Am now off to find a Rabbit's Foot, a Horseshoe and a Four Leaf Clover.

UP IN SMOKE

Just in case I blow up my entire house, I thought I'd better say good-bye right now. Of course I don't WANT to blow up my house, but according to the chimney sweep guy who was here yesterday, I'm not allowed to use my fireplace. Well, not unless I want to ante up $2200. WHAT?? I've got to go rob someplace? As it happens, I've been blissfully using my Buck Stove insert fireplace every winter since I've moved here. I don't rely on it for my major source of heat, but I do love using it on special winter evenings. Especially when I've got out of town company or dinner guests, maybe. And, I DEFINITELY used it during last year's ice storm which knocked out my power for three days.

Little did I know I was putting myself and/or my guests at risk all these years. According to the chimney sweep people, they can't authorize my safe usage because I... ahem... need a stainless steel chimney liner. I DO?? Since when? Well, apparently since the NC code for chimneys changed. So... the big dilemma. Do I just pretend I never had the chimney cleaned, thus never spoke to the guy who laid the code change on me? Or, do I just risk the lives of everyone who ever comes into my house?

Well... being the friendly sort, you know what? I'm going with ... risking everyone's life.

First of all, laying out over 2k is not even in the picture. Secondly, the fireplace has always worked fabulously. Thirdly, I've NEVER had a chimney fire. I've never burned down my neighbor's house. And, I have certainly never burned down my OWN house. Fourthly, as much as I love my friends, and would never want to put them in harm's way, trust me, I love myself MORE. Therefore, if I can stomach the chance of foregoing the chimney liner, then I'm figuring everyone else can, too.

Of course the true test will come tomorrow night when Linda, my oldest girlfriend, comes to visit for a week. Like me, Linda is from Miami and I can't WAIT to entertain her with the delights of a cool autumn night, up here in the Smoky Mountains. As in:lighting a fire while we sit around chit chatting, watching the beauty of dazzling flames and catching up on all sorts of gossip. Just in case, though, I'm thinking that I WILL plan ahead by telling Linda to pack up her valuables and leave them by the front door. Uh... you never know whether or not we'll ever have to make a really quick get-away out of a burning house.

Besides, we CAN'T burn to death... we've got our 40th high school reunion in a few months. And, neither of us want to walk in, donning major skin grafts.

IN AND OUT

In a little while I'll be headed to the Country Club for a fabulous brunch. I chose an appropriate outfit to wear... casual, but nice. A notch above an outfit I might wear to the movies, let's say. As it happens, casual is my watchword when it comes to dress. For instance, I would never wear a fitted waistband. Elastic was MADE for my taste, without a doubt. Not to mention, for my comfort. Which is sort of important, given I often go into a dining establishment being one size, but then, come out from the exact same place, an absolutely different size. A size UP, I might add. It's crazy... I literally grow within a mere hour and a half of dining. Thus, my adoration of elastic.

I love the days when I get dressed, look in the mirror, and think: Well, what do you know... today I look almost normal! Yup! The chubbiness seems to be pretty much under control! In fact, after looking in the mirror, I may even reconsider, and therefore change into one of my "thin" outfits. Days like this make me feel really spiffy since 1.) they are far and few between and 2.) I get to see a real pay off, considering I've made a major life project out of trying to camouflage my figure. It's a full time job, trust me. In fact, I always get a kick out of people who may see me somewhere and tell me: My, you look GREAT today! To which I often repy: Thanks. Mission Accomplished! Apparently I'm fooling SOMEone out there by my having chosen clothing to best hide my body faults. Actually, I've often said my sister has my mother's figure while I ... lucky me ... have my father's physique. Go figure.

Another thing I'd never do is tuck my shirt into my waitsband. I'd look way too much like the little dancing elephant, twirling all around, wearing a tu-tu. I can't even IMAGINE what it would be like to sport a belt. That is definitely not an accessory that would enhance my figure. Rather, I am diligent in selecting loose fitting tops that work double time in concealing my body shape. I'm so telling you... dressing my body gives a whole new meaning to hidden agendas. You think it's EASY creating a wardrobe for myself? Dont' ask.

Which brings me right back to the "I don't have a going problem. I've got a GROWING problem". I'll walk into the brunch today looking pretty much stylin'. However, what size I'll be when I walk out, heaven only knows. Besides, it's a buffet... so you do the math. Oh... and by the way, I've got a going problem, too. But that's a whole other story.

MEMORABLE DATES

Now HERE'S a picture if ever I've seen one. It makes me laugh. It kinda reminds me of when I was teaching my son to chew with his mouth closed. It also reminds me of a guy I might once have gone out with. Once, being the key word. One meal with a guy of this ilk and boom, I... oops... somehow developed a major headache and had to be rushed home. I have to admit, I've gone out with a lot of different men in my life, beginning with the jerk who asked me to my Confirmation Dance in 10th grade. I didn't really want to go with him at ALL, but my Dad encouraged me, suggesting that while HE may not have been my knight in shining armor, he might have a FRIEND who could be. Seemed sensible enough. So, I went; but as it turns out, I never met any fabulous friend.

Then, there was the guy with whom I once went to Key Largo. I remember sitting in the front seat of his car, looking at him while he drove. It was my first little out of town weekend since my divorce. Bruce was telling me a story of how his father was once at a mall, sitting on a slatted bench, waiting, while his mother was shopping. When his mother finished, she walked over to the hubby and NO sooner had he spied her, than the father GOT up and BOOM! HE SCREAMED IN PAIN. The problem?? The father's testicles got caught in the wooden slats of the bench!!! HE COULDN'T GET THEM OUT, EITHER. Can you IMAGINE?? THIS IS NORMAL??? Huh? The guy never heard of briefs?? He's sitting there with no clue he's "hanging"? Believe you me, I wanted to vomit, just envisioning this entire scenerio. As it happens, the Fire Rescue guys had to be called in to ... get this... saw the bench apart! Jesus. This is SO not the story to tell a prospective weekend getaway date. I promise you... I was, for good reason, SO turned off at the vision of this ordeal that I literally COUNTED the hours until my return home. AND, you can be SURE that the testicles of any son whose father got his own caught in a bench, were a pair I NEVER wanted to view. Nor did I. I was simply WAY too spooked.

On the other hand, most of my dates throughout life were simply fabulous. A month after the Confirmation Dance date, I met the first love of my life with whom I went steady for almost two years during high school. And, two other dates were SO fabulous, that I actually married them. Thankfully, each of these men ate with their mouth closed. And... more importantly... they had no father/bench stories to retell.

MY WORK HERE IS DONE

Last month, I was asked to model at SteinMart's for a few hours. It was a dream job. You choose whatever 3 outfits you'd like to model and merely walk the floor, showing off how stunning you look. In return, you get 20% off anything you'd like to purchase. Which I found to be interesting since basically I had to PAY in order to then BE paid. Some concept, huh? On the other hand, I did buy 3 great pieces which I will certainly love wearing, but still, there's something a bit out of whack here. Whatever.

This month, I've had the title of Executive Assistant for a week. I was asked by a gentleman here to help with computer/internet work for a business plan he was putting together. I happily accepted since a.) I could work in pajamas at home b.) the pay was good and c.) I could complete my work at 3 a.m. if I chose. The job was a breeze, but don't tell that to the guy. I'm definitely into letting him think I worked hard as hell; although I must admit I really DID do a pretty decent job, if I say so myself. That's the good news. The bad news is, my job is now over. I've been fired, in a manner of speaking. I apparently finished all he needed done so once again, I'm out in the open employment market. At first we expected that the job might take up to maybe 50 hours. Just my luck, I'm so efficient, it took closer to 15. Thus, of course the big dilemma. Do I pad my hours or not??

If only I were in my 20's. At that age, I'd probably take the risk and well... kinda lie, adding extra hours to my pay check. But being in my 50's, however... uh, I think I'll go the honesty route. I love being able to sleep well at night, so why toy with success. Which of course means, I won't get as much money, but so be it. I'm heavy into morality, anyway so in the end, it's a win-win situation. Besides, at THIS job, I didn't have to first lay out any money to then get my money.

Better yet, knowing that my oldest girlfriend is soon to arrive for a week's visit, being fired isn't such a bad thing. I'm now free to entertain with no work constraints. I'm also free to spend my measley paycheck entertaining her. Which to me, spells yet another win-win situation. Moral of the story? Anyone needing a great employee who might possibly consider cheating on work hours, give me a call. Apparently, I'm available.

WHAT? ME WORRY??

Bet your sweet ass I worry! Uh... doesnt' everyone???

WHO HAS TIME?

Wow... it's been so long since I've had time to post an entry that get this... I FORGOT MY PASSWORD. I can't believe it. I tried logging into my Blog Acc't and had NO idea what my password was! Oh my God... I'm getting old. At lightening speed, too. Talk about discouraging. Well, that's the bad news.

The good news is: the reason I haven't had time to post is because I've been so busy winning hordes of money and zillions of trips! HOW have I been doing this? Easy... I've been playing online Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune!! Of course, I've been losing everything, too, but who's counting. I swear... these games are just the ticket for vegging out and regrouping. Case in point: I had a bad day recently and before you knew it, I was back to my chipper self again. I merely sat down at the computer, played a game and boom. I was back in the pink in no time.

Let me tell you by the way, IT'S NOT EASY. Wheel of Fortune is the one that surprised me the most. (the games have the exact music, set design, etc as on TV) When watching television, I can solve the puzzle in no time flat. On the computer, when I'm the contestant... forget it. I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT THE SOLUTION IS. Merely selecting the correct letters is a challenge. I couldn't believe I wasn't popping out the answers lickety split.

As for Jeopardy, I was surprised too. But, in a good way. I couldn't get over how well I did in... let's say Astronomy. A category I'd NEVER have chosen. About the only answer I'd ever know is... let's say: HE INVENTED THE TELESCOPE. Yippee. That one I'd know. Uh, Alex... I'll take SHOOT FOR THE STARS for $600. WHO IS GALILEO?? Naturally, I'd be smiling when... just then Alex tells me... SO SORRY LINDA. THAT'S INCORRECT. Huh? Is this a joke?? HE DIDN'T?? Wouldn't you know... come to find out, Galileo only IMPROVED upon the telescope. The REAL inventor is some chap named Hans Lipperhey. A chap by the way, I'VE NEVER HEARD OF. Which is probably when I'd have to take issue with the judges; but why spoil the fun. HOWever... forgetting about Astronomy... I happily surprised myself in a LOT of other crazy categories. Oh yeah... I forgot to mention. Since Alex and I are merely meeting in cyberspace, the answers all show up as multiple choices. No WONDER I do better than I would have thought. Were I to pull the answers strictly from inside my own head, I'd be a goner in round two, EASILY.

Bottom line: I highly recommend these two games for anyone wanting to escape for 20 minutes. Try either Jeopardy or Wheel of Fortune (don't download it... play it for free like I do) and if you beat me, I shan't be happy. I will however, return to my REAL all time favorite game... FREE CELL. See you in the contestant's circle.

AIR WAYS

I think I should get a commission from the airlines. Afterall, I'm doing exactly what THEIR agents are getting paid to do... book my itinerary and purchase my ticket. Plus, the agents have had actual training to do this. I of course, was never offered such help. And... now that I think of it, I should also get paid for having trained myself. This online trial and error method I have to go through, is for the birds.

Also, I have yet to find such fabulous pricing bargains to wherever it is I'm flying. Well, other than last minute weekend getaways and I never fly at the last minute. How can I? It takes me at least 4 days to just organize my packing. Which brings me to another point. Packing is a huge issue with me. When I was younger, I could pack for last minute travel in a jiffy. Throw in the clothing, shoes, makeup and boom. I was ready to go. Now that I'm old, however, I've got meds, creams, hair utensils, just in case items, etc., etc. It's almost like my toiletries have suddenly become something close to a sundries mini store.

When surfing to the travel sites, especially those that supposedly have the lowest price ever, I NEVER seem to find excellent values. Am I doing something wrong, here? Let's say I'm flying to Florida and I surf sites 4 weeks in advance. Shouldn't I be able to find something less than $575?? That to me is no bargain whatsoever. Especially when I well remember heading there for a mere $152 and buying a ticket only 3 weeks in advance. It's a major bummer.

So... coupling the fact I'm not getting paid for booking my own flights with the fact there's never cheap tickets available to me, I'm thinking: why the hell go anywhere? I love where I am. Let the world c0me to me, now that I think of it. Traveling is no longer fun, anyway. Purchasing a ticket is a hassle, the check in searches can get nuts, you can no longer bring zillions of items as carry on, it's always a gamble to know whether or not you'll ever be able to depart/arrive on schedule and, most importantly, THERE'S NO FOOD. Uh... not to mention the possibility of being blown up while 35,000 feet sky high.

Okay, so that does it... I'm going nowhere. I'm sticking right here on safe ground where God meant me to be. Anywhere my feet can touch solid ground, that's the place for me. Forget ocean cruises, forget plane rides, forget ski lifts, forget deep sea diving. Besides, maybe I'll take the Oprah/Gayle approach one day. I'll simply see the USA in my Chevrolet. Oops...damn. I forgot. I hate long car trips, too.

FREE FALLING

After 12 months, guess what? AUTUMN IS HERE ONCE AGAIN! Autumn alone, is one of the reasons I adore where I live. As a native South Floridian, even I knew that celebrating Xmas in temps of 89 degrees is a major fraud. But, now that I'm in Great Smoky Mountains, my favorite season is upon me. Just last night I got to wear a wonderful coverup over my clothing and it felt great. All the windows are opened, the sun is shining brightly and the temps are in the 50s. What a life! From here on in, the crispness of the air will become a staple, the seasonal clothing will come out of the closet and the indoors will feel open and comfortable. Not to mention that reds, yellows and oranges will color the trees. Am so telling you... autumn is a fabulous season. Period.

I remember my first autumn 4 years ago. During that period I wore more pairs of socks in 5 months, than I ever did during the 50+ years of living down south. Not only that, I now have 2 wardrobes of socks... those for day/evening wear and those for nighttime sleeping. Having warm feet while asleep during autumn and winter are clearly the secret to feeling nice and toasty. Actually, hot chocolate helps, too.

XTRA, XTRA

I'm having a war with the newspaper delivery guy. He apparently runs the show around here, and his bosses, unlike me, apparently seem to have no problem with it. Last month, in honor my sister and her husband having moved here, I gifted them a daily subcription to our local newspaper. And, I stipulated when I placed the order, that I wanted to be SURE the paper would be delivered as far down the driveway as possible.

Well, it seems the delivery guy isn't all that intent on satisfying the customer. After three weeks, he still insists the paper be placed in the mail box which is about a house and a half away. That's another story altogether. Suffice it to say however, that since Jack doesn't want to throw the paper in the driveway, my sister has to, instead, be sure she's fully dressed before she can trapse up the street to grab her daily edition of what's happening in the world.

Almost immediately, I was on the phone with circulation department and after three weeks and 5 different service reps the upshot seems to be: Jack has been around forever (thus makes his own rules) and claims he has a "tight schedule". A tight ass is what I'm thinking, but so be it. Tight schedule?? He can't take no more than an extra 65 seconds and zip up to the driveway for the infamous toss?? Give me a BREAK! This guy is outta control.

Naturally, I've asked the reps to please correct this delivery hassel and further, please call me back letting me know Jack is ready to cooperate. The phone has not rung once from anyone. Even the threat of cancelling MY subscription as well as my sister's in favor of reading it online, didn't get me anywhere. What the hell is going on in this city? I need to fight to get a paper delivered? I'm involved in a newspaper war??

I can't even imagine what to think when Jack hears that my sister will be in Australia soon, thus will have to actually SUSPEND service for three weeks. Mark my words... three weeks of papers will almost certainly be laying in her driveway.

GETTING HIGH

Yeah, yeah, yeah. There are those who love getting high simply on life. I do that too, but if you REALLY want to get high, why not try taking a toke from an excellent joint. I did that often in college and as a young married. Naturally, those years were a hell of a lot of fun... if I remember correctly.

I say this, because last night I had heart palpatations for hours so decided to down my newer drug of choice... Ativan. It was about 1mg I guess, but boy did I get loopy. It calmed me down plenty, although it didn't do all that much for the palpatations. So, just in case I had to be rushed to the hospital during the night, I figured I had better shower and powder up. No need looking like a jerk when the ambulance arrives.

I took one more half a pill, and then hopped in the shower. While there, I was thinking how writing a blog entry while I was in this loopy state might actually turn into a really good thing. I can't even iMAGine what my entry would have been like nor what it's topic might have been. I was just figuring that for all I know, it could have been one of the all time best entries ever. Much like how, way back when, my lesson plans were so creative, fun-filled and originally educational. As it happened however, my loopiness soon turned into wooziness and the next thing you know, I was fast asleep. Without even one bathroom break the entire night, I might add.

It wasn't until after 9:00 this morning when my phone rang, that I woke up. And let me tell you... it was no easy wake up call. When I hung up, I was feeling like maybe I had way too much champagne the night before. Therefore, I'm supposing my sleep wasn't quite finished. In which case, is why as soon as I upload this, I'm off to take a short catch-up snooze. Sweet dreams everyone!

LIFE'S DISAPPOINTMENTS

I love the feeling of happy anticipation. The kind of anticipation when something about to occur is going to rock your world forever. The very first weekend getaway with the love of your life, maybe. Or the birth of your first baby. Or, my personal favorite... when a gent who knocks your socks off, is about to lean in and give you his very first kiss. You nervously anticipate the kiss that's going to bring you to your knees, and boom!... take you to heaven. Okay... so the sweet anticipation grows even more, as his mouth finally approaches yours and then WHAM! He kisses you and sure enough it's like... uh... oh NOOO! Your world isn't rocking at ALL. Instead, it's major CRUMBLING! As in: loverboy turns out to have COMPLETELY flunked The A B C's of Kissing Basics, thus in a flash of a moment, he becomes one of your all time major disappointments in life.

Such is how I felt the night that the apple of my eye, MSNBC's Tucker Carlson, showcased his dancing ability on DANCING WITH THE STARS. After watching Tucker for years, I was thrilled to be able to see a different side of him... his sexier side. My expectations were sky high. Afterall, Tucker's a guy who's bright, tall, funny, way easy on the eyes, and one whom I imagined had the perfect moves to definitely make me smile. All of which, to me, is a fabulously bundled foundation for everything sexy. I just KNEW I was going to love watching him on the dance floor, holding my breath with visual pleasure. Jesus. How wrong I was.

Talk about stiff! And, not where I'd like it, either. I'm talking about stiff body moves, no real rhythm, lead-heavy steps, etc. etc.; thus for sure... blowing all my pent up anticipation in a mere nano second. HUH?? TUCKER NEVER MADE IT OUT OF DANCE 101?? WHAT?? JERRY SPRINGER IS HOTTER THAN TUCK?? Say it ain't so! Lordy, lordy, lordy. Now THERE'S a disappointment, if ever I've seen one.

Which just goes to show, you simply never know. Besides, if you ask me, Jerry Springer looked damn good in his tux. If he promises not to throw chairs at me, I'd dance with him in a heartbeat.

IF I WERE PRESIDENT

I'm getting major sick of hearing George W. address the Iraqi issue. He's like a blubbering broken record, using the same tired talking points over and over. Additionally, the points themselves are so damn lame, it's embarrassing. As if that's not enough, he's addressing the issues with the worst grammatical usage I've ever seen from ... uh... a supposed statesman. On THAT count, I could easily be President. Granted, being "major sick" is not at all grammatically correct. But on the other hand ... I've yet to be elected to the highest office in the land.

Case in point: Right now, as I write, President Bush is being interviewed by Brian Williams on MSNBC. In describing his personal reading choices, Bush claims his taste in reading is eceletic. WHAT? ECELETIC??? Since WHEN is eceletic a word?? The word is: ECLECTIC for God's sake! This sort of stupidity from the leader of the free world just freakin' kills me.

That's number 1. Number 2 is that if I were President, I'd oust Rumsfeld in a jiffy. He's not even worthy of comment. Suffice it to say, I find him leading us down a proven horrible path, with no sign of remarkable military success whatsoEVER. End of disscussion.

Next, I'd tell Iraq... okee dokee folks; we got rid of your dictator. You're welcome. Since the take down, we've tried the best damn way we (the greatest military force on earth) knew how, to bring you an opportunity to develop your own government and repair your war damage. In fact, we've spent, what?? four years??, fighting all the obstacles your countymen have placed before us. Thanks a lot for all those obstacles, by the way. And, thanks too, for all those religious nut jobs killing us while we try to get you up and running once again. Whatever. Game's over. You win.

Therefore, as President, my message would be along the lines of: Uh... Guess what, Iraq. We are FINISHED. Good-bye. Nice knowing you. Our here work is done. Kaput. Over. No more. As of this moment, YOU ARE ON YOUR OWN, kiddies. Do whatever the hell you want in your land and by the way ... rots 'o ruck doing it. Shoot up every religious sect you f-ing want and let any fanatical idiot you choose, be your leader. At this point, I could care less what you guys do. Oh, and by the way... you might want to rethink your message from Allah. You're telling me your God insists that you kill every human being on earth who is not as fanatically, radically violent as you?? Pullllease.

Whew. I feel better, now that I spewed. Thanks for indulging me. Thanks too, for allowing me any/all grammatically incorrect sentence structures as well as any/all creative vocabulary. I'd make a great President.

THE BIG HOUSE

Any day now, I could be whisked away from my modest little house, to instead, a government-funded Big House. The kind where black and white stripes are in fashion. Will it actually happen? I doubt it, but just in case... I figured I'd give everyone a heads up.

I've previously mentioned how absolutely thrilled I am with my new DSL line. It' simply the best thing EVER. And while most people my age use their computer for email, travel planning, paying bills etc., I have always used my computer for far more. I use detailed imaging software to maintain my family/digitals photos. I record all my check book transactions to give annual financial reports to my accountant. I save/scan all my important documents, develop web pages and/or blog entries, and I've perfected all sorts of desktop publishing programs. I seach the internet for possible physician malpractice suits against my doctors (why take chances?) and download zillions of free computer applications, including about 200 additional fonts. Apparently, the first 100 aren't enough.

But the BEST thing I do now, is download music files which is ... ahem ... let's just say... not the way you're SUPPOSED to get your music. You're supposed to PAY for it, so that artists get their royalties, etc. But according to anyone under the age of 35, screw the $$$ and instead, risk jail time.

Before I got fast access, I didn't even consider downloading songs... it took WAY too long. Now however, I swear, in two minutes or less, you can have absolutely ANY song known to mankind. It's a sheer miracle. I'm just wild about it. Case in point: I've now got Frank Sinatra singing ISLE OF CAPRI, Elton John and George Michael singing in unison DON'T LET THE SUN GO DOWN ON ME, as well as Bobby Darin belting out BEYOND THE SEA and I'M BEGINNING TO SEE THE LIGHT. I just can't beLIEVE how fabulous it is to burn all the songs you've ever loved, onto a single CD! It definitely blows my mind. Naturally, I had to also download freeware so I could convert the .mp3 files to .wav's, but that was simple enough. I guess most people are using the .mp3's to load their iPods. Me, I'm just making CDs with which to sing along in the car. If you've never done this, I highly recommend it.

However... don't get floored when you see what the song titles of the 21st century are like. IT'S CRAZY. I'm telling you, the music our children and grandchildren are hearing are WAY TOO obscene. PRET-ty scarey, if you ask me. Like, since when is it okay to record a song entitled (and this a tame one) I WANNA GET IN YOUR PANTS??? Are you KIDDING me?? Don't ask.

See? That's what's nuts. The Feds don't give a HOOT about the major trashy recordings being heard by kids today. But, find an old lady like me who's downloading Sting's EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE and boom! I'm on the FBI list and therefore, reason to possibly be carted off to jail. In which case, please send cigs.

WORLDS APART

Are you kidding me?? Can you beLIEVE the difference in these two picts? One is of a socialite beauty in private school and the other is of a doofus to the nth degree in public school. We are both ten years old, but while Jackie already has the looks of a refined, extraordinary future icon, I have the looks of a jerk that only a mother can love. Note that Jackie had the wherewithal to keep her sweet, delicate mouth closed for her smile while I apparently figured that showing off a 14 inch gap in my teeth is a good thing. What an A hole I was.

Check out the hair styles, too. I suspect Jackie's nanny probably spent a bit of time meticiously combing her ringlets while Hazel, our housekeeper at the time, never once put a brush to my hair. In fact, if memory serves me correctly, I'm probably sporting a Toni do it yourself home perm my Mother gave me. Honestly... this just kills me. I can't stop laughing at what's going on with my "look".

What gets me is imagining if both Jackie and I were in the same class. Is it even POSSIBLE she'd ever befriend me? Someone looking like this pict?? Actually, now that I think about it, even if Jackie were to have met me 40 years later, I'm not at all sure we'd be on the same page even then. Oh well... some people were meant for fame from the very start. Others were meant for mere adoration of the famous for the rest of their lives. Guess which category I fall into.

LIFE ON THE FAST TRACK

Well, shiver me timbers, mate. I'M FINALLY surfing the net at jet speed. I can't beLIEVE how great this is. I feel like a bird soaring the skies for the first time in my life. It's definitely the next best thing to sliced bread. It took me 12 years of being on a dial up connection to finally make the call to BellSouth and say HOOK ME UP!

The equipment arrived yesterday and today, thanks to Claudia and Barbara, I'm back in the real world. Trust me... it took the three of us to do it, but do it we did. Actually, the computer installation was no real problem. Much more, was the fanagling of the wires, rearranging outlets, adding splicers, etc. BUT... it's a done deal now and boy am I thrilled.

Already, I checked out photo albums from family celebrations, watched a bunch of Elton John music videos and even uploaded a bunch of files in mere seconds. Even posting a new blog entry was done in NO TIME at all. I just can't believe this. Am telling you... if now, the billing from Cingular and Direct TV reflect the new discounted charges, I'll be on a major roll. THANK YOU GOD FOR GIVING ME THE GIFT OF SPEED.

Of course, now all that's left, is to figure out how to send/receive faxes via my computer. HA. Now THERE'S a challenge if ever there was!

ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE

Well, not exactly. Apparently you also need a really well drafted Pre-Nup. Especially if you've got a total net worth of billions. Kinda like Sir Paul McCartney. And, if you're planning to marry a woman kinda like Heather Mills.

I get it that many couples who plan to marry don't want to get bogged down in nasty little details like $$$$. It sorta puts a little damper on things when you are madly in love yet can't even agree on the financial details of how to split money should you ever break up. Talk about foreboding. On the other hand, when you've got BILLIONS, isn't it like another story ALtogether?? Isn't a pre-nup like almost MANdatory?? Hasn't anyone learned ANYthing from The Donald??

Now, bear in mind, Paul was apparently madly in love with Heather and although she was no Linda, he had high hopes for her being a Linda Two. Thus, money settlement wasn't something with which he planned on having to grapple. Way naive, my Sir. In a short 3/4 years not only did the couple marry, but they hooked into a zillion chairities, had a kid, fell out of love and, what a surprise, found themselves in the throes of a REALLY nasty divorce. Okay. So, s#@* happens.

In which case, Paul offers this second love of his life $60 million dollars. Nice income for 4 years. BUT... is that enough for sweet, magnanimous Heather? Uh... NO. SHE NEEDS MORE. Like maybe half of Paul's estate. WHAT?? HE'S BEEN KNIGHTED FOR GOD'S SAKE. HE'S BEEN AN IMPECCABLE, STAND UP KIND OF GUY FOREVER. HE'S WORKED HIS ASS YEARS BEFORE I THINK HEATHER WAS EVEN BORN. And for 4 short years she wants billions of dollars??? Get f-ing real.

I hate this Heather. Even when I saw her on Larry King years ago, pushing her causes, etc., she just didn't give me the impression she was an adoring, wonderful woman. I'm way into now thinking, Heather had an agenda and I'm also thinking money was high on her list. Who better to better to wrap her legs around... oops, I mean, leg... than Paul McCartney.

Probably Elton said it best: The Bitch is Back.

IT WAS NICE KNOWING YOU

I swear to God... this Iran crap is scaring the hell out of me. I have no clue how much longer we all have here on earth, but if it's up to the head Iranian guy, it's a matter of days. He is absolutely out of his f-ing mind. Granted, the Korean psycho is heavy into war games for maybe, the sheer fun of it; and Bin Laden is in a cave somewhere happily scheming to blow up every American/Israeli on earth; BUT I'm keeping my eye on the Iranian guy. I'm thinking he's the other two all rolled into one. Today, I heard that what he REALLY wants, is to kill EVERYone EVERYwhere AND he can do in six minutes what took Hitler six years. Just what I wanted to hear. Besides, Russia isn't all that upset with Iran, thus between the two of them, we're talking capability and billions of dollars. A pretty potent mix.

Which leads me to think:
1.) tell everyone I know and love goodbye, it was nice knowing you, I don't want to die, but any day now could be my last... and...
2.) forget saving money... I might as well spend every cent I have NOW to buy whatever tickles my fancy, since I won't be around much longer anyway. I will apparently NEVER live long enough to receive monies from my IRA. At least, not without a penalty.

Everyone who knows me well, knows I have a long list of fears. I hate driving in thunderstorms, will not fly during afternoon hours when thunderstorms are brewing, hate heights, have NEVER considered roller coasters safe let alone, fun, am afraid I won't find a bathroom in time and lastly, hate all sorts of air travel from hand gliding to high powered jets. Although, I did once discover a cure for my flying... go first class. Put me in a turbulent sky and bingo. I'm popping Ativan like no tomorrow. But, put me in first class and I'm handling turbulence like a breeze.

Now, however, I have to add Iran to my list of fears and according to the guy on TV, it should be, without a doubt, #1 on the list. What the hell is the world coming to?? Supposedly, in a nutshell, Iran's thinking is: by killing everyone on earth, it will hasten the coming of their Messiah, so killing the entire world is a good thing, which is why suicide is so noble. In addition, Iranians are the ONLY peoples worthy of life. Everyone else has got to be exterminated.

WHAT?? IS THIS A FREAKIN' JOKE?? THIS IS WHAT WE'RE UP AGAINST?? THIS IS A WAY TO LIVE?? Holy S@*#.

Seriously... Iran is so out to get us. Way more than all the other nut jobs. And, according to TV, our President and our government are only into reactionary measures; absolutely not, no way, not even CLOSE to preventative measures. Case in point: there is no reason to even consider not bringing body lotion on a plane when there is absolutely nothing being done about THROROUGHLY checking and rechecking the cargo loads on each plane. But, trust me. As soon as the next plane explodes, only to find that the bomb got by the almost non-existent cargo check point, THEN the government will conclude: uh, duh. Gee, guess we better put some work into the cargo docks, afterall.

Therefore, with that in mind, I feel really, really badly about this, but I better say good bye now, since my days are numbered and I have no clue if I'll ever get a chance to say it later. It was definitely nice knowing you. On the other hand, as my sister told me today... Good news! I now no longer have reason to be afraid of the Bird Flu. Talk about a silver lining.

IT'S HERE! IT'S HERE!

YEA! IT ARRIVED!! I got of the shower about an hour ago, and I noticed a UPS truck zipping around the neighborhood. Bingo... an alarm went off in my head... THE DSL EQUIPMENT IS HERE! Yippee. Except, I also noticed the truck turned in a completely different direction than my house. Goodbye delivery. But wait... I then looked through the glassed area front door and sure enough. There it was. THE EQUPIMENT!

I opened all the boxes and within minutes I determined: EEKS. Problem City. There is NO way I'll be able to do this by myself. Not because I can't figure out the directions, but rather, I could tell right away the wires weren't long enough. The outlets needed for hook up jacks weren't close enough. The furniture needed to be moved isn't light. Also, the installation disk told me to hook up the Ethernet cable rather than the DSL cable. HUH?? WHY?? What the hell is the difference??

So, just as earlier predicted, I can see that the first of my glitches have occurred. See? This is exactly why it's great to have a savvy kid. I have to call him to find out what to do next about the Ethernet bit. He should be able to point me in the right direction 1-2-3. Which reminds me, by the way, I heard on TV earlier that some teen in Utah is being charged with killing his mother by locking her in the freezer. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? THIS IS ACCEPTABLE?? FREEZING YOUR MOM?? Jesus. Talk about giving a whole new meaning to "I'm freezing to death".

Stay tuned for future glitch announcements.

FROM MALIBU TO MELIBU

christ almigthty, melibu
just what the hell
did you do?

what? you don't love jews?
now since when,
is that fresh news?

it's the "liquor"
that made you spew?
sorry melbie,
you're major screwed.

actually,
if i were you...
i'd not ask "hebs"
for your review...

head to church
is what to do
on bended knee...
ask forgiveness from your pew.

why not make it
prayers from two?
just bring dad
along with you.

oh...
if adolf hitler
only knew.
wouldn't he
be proud of you.

IT'S OFFICAL!!

As of today, I'm no longer a loser. Actually, as of this coming Saturday, I think. FINALLY... AFTER BEING THE LAST AMERICAN ON EARTH to do so, I've ordered Fast Access Internet Service! YIPPEE YIPPEE YIPPEE For the last 12 years, I've been doing dial up and believe you me, it sucks. BUT... I stuck with it for several reasons, not the least of which was my fear of initially being billed, let's say $25 a month, only to see it jump to something like $182 in almost no time at all.

Kinda like my cable service. THEY lured me into their fold with a fabulous pricing offer, and over a couple year period, next thing you know, I was paying 4x the amount for absolutely no additional service whatsoever. Which is why I've since switched to Direct TV and have never looked back.

ANYway, this morning I bit the bullet and spoke with a very patient BellSouth rep, Ms. Grier and HALLELUJAH I'm on my way! Now, don't get me wrong. I've been around the block a few times, so I'm already prepared for all SORTS of glitches to arise. And, I pretty much told BellSouth that. Sure, sure sure. They told me not to worry. Everything I bundled so as to get cellular discounts, free modem, etc. will fly without a hitch. Statements will reflect exactly what was quoted me on the phone... you know the drill. But I, on the other hand, know the reality. NOTHING WILL GO ACCORDING TO PLAN. I'm accepting this right off the bat. BUT... I will, on the other hand GET HIGH SPEED internet access, so who gives a s#^%. JUMPIN' JOSEPHA RING TONES, BATMAN! I'M OUT OF THE LOSER BOX! About damn time, too!

The only other thing I now look forward to, is resolving all the conflicting biling problems that will come about which, according to my calendar, will occur probably around September 23rd. Stay tuned for the prediciton results!