No Cooking Required

I have no New Year's resolutions. Oh wait, I do. I resolve to have sex in the kitchen. Does anyone really do this? It's always mentioned in the conversation about "places you've had sex other than the bedroom", but then everyone shakes their head "no". It's not the normal type of New Year's resolution, but I don't need to lose weight so what's left? Every daytime tv show is pushing weight loss in 2009; I wish they would make other suggestions. There are a few people in America who aren't fat. A bit of reverse discrimination, wouldn't you say? Matt Lauer, you're not overweight, so find another subject ok? Oprah, you do whatever you want. Dr. Phil, you might want to put in some gym time after the lst.

Let's see, in 2008 I could be nicer, but then my friends would think I was sick and dying. It's better to remain a little cranky and neurotic for their sake; I wouldn't want to worry anyone. I could whine less; but whhhhhy? I could spend more time in the grocery store . Again I have to ask myself why, when I've perfected the one meal at a time, lifestyle. I could drink less red wine but that would just be stupid. I could go to the movies more, but that isn't really a resolution. I could get a colonoscopy. It is a popular event in my peer group, actually more than going to a movie. Imagine how cranky and whiney I could get before I drink all that horrid liquid. I could actually be dragged crying and screaming all the way to the procedure; I'm liking this, it could be my first real resolution. Maybe 2009 is the year to kick the "All My Children" addiction. Thirty years is a long time to have the Erica Kane needle in my vein, but then I think about how much we've been through together and we've started to color and wear our hair the same way. I'm not sure I can leave her yet. I do think however, it's too late to catch up in the husband race. I've fallen way too far behind and even though she's not getting older, I am. Sadly I'll never even catch Liz.

It looks like I have one tentative and one for sure resolution. I'm iffy on the colonoscopy; oh I know I should and it costs about the same as a movie with a large popcorn and diet Coke, so maybe. Sex in the kitchen doesn't require shopping or cooking so I think that's a definite for 2009.

It's a man's world, if you're a man

Why is it men don't need advice about women? I get endless letters about men and dating from Christian Carter, the internet "catch him and keep him" guru. Are we the sadder sex? The more pathetic? The dumbest gender? Is there not one man in America who is wondering why he can't get a date? As far as I can gather from Christian's letters every single man is dating. EVERY SINGLE SOLITARY MAN is busy. Give me a freakin' break. The biggest problem they seem to have is who to choose? This is simply not possible. According to his letters I better listen up! If I didn't get the engagement ring I was expecting at Christmas, it was a flaw in me. If I thought I was on a great date and the guy never called again it was something I said. If I get the, "I want to see other women" talk, it was definitely because I did something to scare off my man. Why, why , why is it always the woman Christian?

We're flawed? And lonely? And desperate for a man? Legions of flawed, lonely, desperate women and not ONE flawed, lonely, desperate man? This is mind boggling. But women don't despair, Christian will give you four things that make a man want you! Yea!! He will tell you how to meet the right man and get him to need you. Yea!! How to change things back to how it was when you first started dating. Yea!! How to inspire affection from your man. Yea!! How to push the right buttons so a man really opens up to you. Yea!! And last but certainly not least, how to "speak his language." Double Yea!! Isn't this great? I'm so close to being really happy.

Men are lucky. They're sitting back waiting for us "advice letter" readers to behave correctly. And this is the best part, when we strictly adhere to the instructions we can finally have a man of our own. Anyone still interested? It doesn't sound that appealing afterall, does it? Besides, I was never good at following directions. My friend Tim once told me all men really think about is "sex and food" so for God's sake how complicated can they be? Christian, my best advice to you.... teach men how to catch and keep women instead.

Little bo beep and her sleep deprived sheep

WANTED! and small REWARD to any two people that can get a good night's sleep on a queen size bed. There might be a short pop quiz as I don't believe it's possible to wake up cognizant or able to do simple addition. The bed is just too damn small. And don't protest with the "cozy" argument as I think what you really mean is cramped. Cuddling is sweet , but face it, three minutes is the maximum cuddle time and then it's "every man for himself". Staking out territory involves skill and speed. I like to sprawl around looking for the exact spot to claim. Oh, but wait, I can't move, I can't stretch out, in fact I can't go anywhere. I'm in the upper left hand corner, my right arm is hanging off the side turning blue from lack of circulation and I'm rapidly loosing feeling in my left leg. That sweet person with whom I was just snuggling needs to move over or be shot. Admitedly, I'm a bit of the "Princess and the Pea" type, as a good night's sleep involves hundreds of stars to be in perfect alignment. I can't survive without my two almost featherless pillows I've had since I was a teenager scrunched under my head. The sheets must have a thread count of more than 340, and yes, I know if they're 339. Anything that ticks, hums, or vibrates must be stifled or smashed to smithereens. And then there's snoring. I'd like to meet the person who can sleep through the night with a snorer. My girlfriend told me she crams pillows over her husband's head to muffle the noise. I think a hammer is the better solution. It's clear I'm going to end up alone.

A king size bed is the only hope for two people to survive. It's like your own planet; room to move about freely , vote on reasonable borders, meet in the middle for drinks , sex, the 3 minute cuddle, or math. But you queen size lovers when you're done counting sheep and alert enough, feel free to come collect your reward.

Money walks and talks

It's official, I've decided to give up preaching to my friend Sam's current gal pals! And all those in his future. Trust me there will be more. If you're one of them and think sex will keep him home and off dating sites...I'm sorry....or get over it. His, "We just met for coffee and then had sex" tales never end. All I ask is, "So what's new?" and he nonchantly remarks, "Oh, did I tell you about S--?" And he starts in about another innocent first coffee date with its routine naked ending. Does this happen to everyone? Come on men if you're out there and reading this let me know. Or if you did let me know, fill me in again as obviously I'm stupid. Sam is very charming and cute especially for his age (don't worry darlin' I won't reveal numbers), but what's going on here?

I don't think he's throwing a pile of cash down on a table as incentive. And btw my ex-hubby used to do this along with his Harvard degree, kind of a little pep talk. Let's face it money has a language all it's own and there are no difficult verbs, or confusing nouns. All you have to do is remember the color. I wear alot of black but green does go with everything doesn't it? Rich men know the money trick . Why else would a twenty-something super model type walk down the street holding the arm of a short paunchy sixty five year old and look so damn happy? I'm in my fifties and the sixty five year old guy isn't really giving me that Mona Lisa feeling. I'm thinking, "Oh my God, I can't be old enough to be dating this guy, can I? Isn't he my father's age? Ick, he even looks like my father."
Meanwhile the leggy model is happily listening to the jingling of the keys to her new Mercedes SL500 that are in the pocket of her sheared mink coat. Hey babe if you can have sex with this guy, more power to you. Please don't tell me about it however. And hey older rich guy, enjoy it while you can, but save a little cash for age appropriate wife two, because this vision is temporary; there's the young hot country club tennis pro in her future.

So are Sam's girls thinking he's a cash cow? He does have some good ecoutrement: Porsche, fancy condo, Hermes ties, second home , big blue eyes to match his blue blood blue blazer. I can see the gravatational pull. But, ladies, ladies, ladies, don't line up for the Mercedes or mink. I've looked in the crystal ball and there are no big ticket items in your future. He's a bit of a trickster himself. Merry Christmas.

AHHHHHHHH reality

He's back! Dr. Ahmet Oz is budding into my life again with good advice for my well being. Where does Oprah find these cheery advice givers? Personally I'd prefer if some day she had a confirmed existentialist sitting across from her and telling the audience how we're all living in a dark void. There, doesn't that clear things up immediately? Being concerned about good health and happiness really isn't necessary after that. So much simpler, and less confusing isn't it? In the meantime Dr. Oz is offering, "Stress Management 101" for 2008. For God's sake I have two more weeks to go in 07 , let me feel stress in peace. And why is he always in surgical scrubs; it seems he's on Oprah more than he's in the operating room. Get some street clothes Doc.

MINDFULNESS , mindfulness, mindfulness, is the key to a stress free life says the good doctor. He says I should live in the moment without judgement. What moment are we talking about? The moment I discovered someone backed into my car and cracked my bumper in half? Should I take a deep breath and feel the love? Should I embrace my $250 deductable because the person didn't leave a note claiming responsibility? I'm in the moment of seeing my bumper hanging off my car and I'm mindful of what a freaking pain in the ass it's going to be to get it fixed. AHHHHH, doc this feels great.

PAY ATTENTION to your mind and body, notice things in the present he says. I rush to the mirror and notice I look like crap; my eyes are bloodshot and my roots desperately need color. My skin is dry and itchy, and I slump to the floor from fatigue. In my new attentive state on the floor I notice it needs cleaning as does the tub. This immediately depresses me, so I know I'm in the present. You're right doc I'm at peace.

ACKNOWLEDGE PRESENT MOMENT reality as it actually is, he urges. I run to the window, yep, there's snow, ice, no sun, and the thermometer reads 22 degrees. It hits me, it's really winter. I suddenly notice I'm shivering, pasty white and wearing flip flops. Oh my God, it's only December, I have Jan, Feb, March, and possibly April of this reality. I feel the blood drain from my face , my breathing become shallow , and an urge to jump in my car and drive to Florida. Wait! I can't do that I have to get the bumper fixed. You're right doc I'm one with the universe.

I think I'm going to forget about a stress free life as "Stress Management 101" has made me anxious. Perhaps mindful reality is too stressful for me and I'll just wait for Oprah to have on an existentialist.

Cranky Christmas greetings

Baah Humbug! There I got it out. It's been roiling up inside of me for weeks and furthermore I feel as a Jew it's perfectly acceptable language. After all only eight days in December are designated to me and quite honestly it's hard to keep track of when they start and end. On top of that I don't have the necessary items to actually celebrate Hanukah, or is it spelled "Chanukah"? For starters I don't have a menorah (again the spelling is just impossible), a dradel, the special menorah candles ( birthday candles do not fit in the holders, and fyi I don't have those either), or whatever the celebratory food is and I'm certain it's not matzo (sp?). See how easy it is to get the holiday crankiness going? And forget the eight gifts. How do you get a present a day to another Jew ? This can be a logistical nightmare. My nephew had a Hanukah party and invited "some local Jews" he said. Maybe this is a solution, just post a sign in the neighborhood and see who shows up. He's a clever boy. I for one decided I needed to get some rest and do some breathing exercises before the pressure of "Secret Santa" weeks began.

This Christmas game was a complete mystery to me until I moved my horse to a friendly stable where it was a holiday ritual amongst the boarders. I'm miffed by rituals . I'm not sure they're ever really fun, just habitual. I needed a stocking for my horse's stall door just to get started. Ouch. I'm stumped already. I want to make it clear that my flimsy cheap stocking in no way reflects how I feel about my horse. Secret Santa starts weeks before Christmas and with each passing day my stress level escalates. Now granted we have "guidelines" but guidelines are for loosers aren't they?! We randomly draw from a hat the name of the person whose Secret Santa we will be. There's no trading allowed or even whispering about who you've picked. It's a very hush hush operation even to the point of sneaking presents into stockings so as not to reveal your Santa identity. A bit Watergate, Deep Throat-esque. The gift pace is furious for me , approximately two or three small gifts a week which culminates in a Christmas party where we reveal our Santaness and hand over a final big gift. Whew! I for one would like my Secret Santa to place a vial of Xanax in my stocking right away.

For the three weeks leading up to the party I'm a wreck. Oh my God, it's Thursday and I don't have small gifts! I'm frantic and run up and down the aisles of Dominicks . Is Pepto Bismol inappropriate? It's a nice pink. How about a ham? It's good and not something you always buy for yourself. I dash through the mall in and out of stores, flinging small items into shopping baskets. I can't get behind, I'm a competitor, I have to get ahead. I'm going to buy for next year and the year after. Maybe even the year after that. I'm exhausted, but there's no stopping me. I have so many small gifts in my car I can't see the road.

Tomorrow is the party, I feel relief is on the horizon. No more shopping, no more sneaking around, no more thoughts of Santa suicide. I have my big gift wrapped and ready to hand over (it's not a ham). I survived rash free, no nervous twitching, no nail biting to speak of, my eyes are a little bloodshot ,but regardless I pretty much lived up to the Secret Santa code of ethics. I am however, reconsidering Hanukah.

Diamonds are always a girl's best friend and pizza

I have some great gift suggestions this holiday season: cushion cut and blue sapphire diamond necklace set in platinum $49,999.99, emerald cut pink sapphire and diamond ring regularly $16,365 now $11,699.99 , round brilliant diamond ring 3.88 ctw $59,999.00 (delivery free), men's designer cologne $41.99 or 40 rolls of ultra soft Charmin for $6.99. What's so cool is you can buy all these stocking stuffers at the same store. How could that be? How is that possible? Diamonds and toilet paper in the same store, maybe the same aisle, tossed into the same shopping cart? It's like a dream come true isn't it?!?!? No more schlepping to Tiffanys , Van Cleef and Arpels, Graff, or Cartier, and then a mad dash to Dominicks. Think of the gas money you can save, to say nothing of wear and tear on your car. Personally I like the idea of not having to re-park, really a big stress reliever. I'm not sure gift wrapping is free however, although delivery is thrown in on any item over $50,000 it appears. I'm wondering if I could be happy with an unwrapped cushion cut blue sapphire and diamond necklace? Isn't the real fun openning the box? It would also be hard to re-gift because I'm a terrible wrapper.

For you serious shoppers I might be leery of the emerald cut pink sapphire and diamond ring that's been reduced from $16,365 to the suspisciously low price of $11,699.99 . I mean who wants to think their ring wasn't full retail? I for one would be sad and disappointed. I also wonder just who would be delivering the $59,999.00 round brilliant diamond ring? Will it be arriving in a Yellow Cab, Fed-ex truck, limousine, or sub-contracted out to a local Domino's Pizza driver? I don't care how expensive the ring, wouldn't it loose something if it came with a pizza you didn't like? At that point I'd just forget Christmas altogether.

I think for the man in my life I like the idea of the men's designer cologne for $41.99 and the 40 roles of Ultra soft Charmin for $6.99 as a gift combo. It could be tricky wrapping and involve skills with a scissors and tape I simply don't possess. This makes me pray they wrap for free. I may spring for the pizza delivery however as I think it is a really nice option to the big Christmas turkey or ham.

Where can you find all these great gift items you're wondering? Costco. Surprised?! The question is, can a woman be happy with diamonds from Costco? What if they're gift wrapped? Or come with a pizza?

Post script hysteria

Dr Phil wake up! I'm handing this issue off to you because I can't take the stories anymore. I'm nauseous and anxious. As I mentioned in my previous blog, it's your job not mine to pound some sense into the heads of women internet daters. So Doc get off your ass and get these women to stop having sex on the first , second or without sounding like Mother Superior, ( btw I would look terrible in her clothes as anything with such a high collar makes my neck look wrinkled and I really like short skirts better), third date. I can hardly believe I'm saying this again but I'm begging you to get to know someone. These men are strangers! And I've stopped caring about how horny anyone is, get a "jackrabbit". They come in a lovely candy apple red and you can order them on-line as easily as you can "wink" at someone on Match.com.

Why am I still on this soap box? I am getting dizzy and oxygen deprived being up here so long but no sooner had I finished writing about my friend Sam ("The horror, the horror") and his dating travels, than he called and told me how his week was going. Keep track here.... he checked in with me on Friday. To keep the story straight, it was only five days since his weekend with the woman who invited him to stay in her house. Now she thinks he's her boyfriend. Great. The day before he left on that trip however, he had a date with another internet woman . "We went dancing, it was fun. She was a good dancer", Sam mentions very nonchalantly. Big fucking deal girls, fun is nice but it's doesn't mean an engagement ring is forthcoming. Remember your "jack rabbit" can be fun also. He came home from his road trip and immediately went out for pizza with the dance date woman again. This was date two. She invited him over to her house after cheese and pepperoni and proceeded to have sex with him. Great. "She was nice, I didn't like her house though". "Didn't you just meet her?", I exclaim. I'm getting very tired of exclaiming! "Yea, last Friday". It was Wednesday. THURSDAY, he met a brand new woman for a drink, a simple innocent drink. It's so easy to get up when you're finished and say "good-bye, thanks". For God's sake a two year old can say "bye-bye". Even if lightening bolts and sparks are flying around and you're dizzy with desire, and you can hardly breathe, choke out "goodnight" NOT, "would you like to come over." He went home with her and no sooner than they walked in the door she started taking off her clothes. Huh? Dr. Phil why is she doing this? Remember Mr. Stranger Danger from childhood? So Boyscout Sam said he wouldn't have sex without a condom. Kudos to someone. He didn't have one because it was just a drink remember? She asked, "have you had sex recently?" PAY ATTENTION NOW, he didn't say "yes, last night" he said "no". She then shrugged she didn't care about a condom. Who else is feeling queesy, yet able to scream? Well sorry woman with no clothes on, no sex without protection. He left.

And that was his week. Nothing special really, but we did get a giggle about his escapades. Are you pissed off I'm not lecturing him? Should I have screamed, "you're a slut", hung up the phone, outraged for all women ? He's the one getting the offers. I'm the one hearing the stories and shocked he's getting so many. My advice to women internet daters is to hang in there, take some time window shopping for a man, get to know your "jackrabbit", maybe it's all you really need until a good offer comes YOUR way.

"The horror, the horror"

LISTEN UP SINGLE WOMEN!, especially internet daters. Dr. Phil this includes you, because this is your job , not mine. You're getting endorsement money and I'm just getting nervous and hoarse from screaming in disbelief. I'm going to cut to the chase here ....why are you having sex on the first date???? And why are you inviting strange men to get on an airplane to come visit and stay in your house? What about hotels? Motels? Tents? Come on girls, are you freaking nuts?!!?!? I know for a fact this is true because I hear it from my male friends who are flying around the country to meet you. "You mean you stayed in her house? She just let you, a total stranger off the internet, stay with her?" And my friend Sam answered, "yea". This is where the hoarse voice comes from because I start screaming in horror.

Dr. Phil I simply cannot believe women are this desperate to find a man. They're nice I agree and it sucks to be alone , and sure we all get horney .... but to put yourself in harm's way to solve the, "I want a boyfriend" problem is just bad, bad judgement. And don't give me the lame ass argument that you'd been writing back and forth for days, or weeks or even months. I'm sure Ted Bundy was literate. Oh, you say you'd been talking endlessly on the phone and he was so great and understanding and you had so much in common. I'm sure Ted Bundy was a lovely conversationalist. Now of course I'm using the extreme example, but am I? How do you know? Why, why, would you take this risk? Hey I'm not innocent here, I've had men fly to meet me, but I've never offered my house as an option to a hotel. First of all, if they can't afford a hotel, who wants them anyway? It's a sign you'd be the money earner . Take a pass on this guy immediately. Second of all and really most importantly it implies you're having sex and this is my big "no no". How are you going to feel when he spends the weekend screwing you and then leaves and never calls. I dare you to say "fine".

If you just said "fine" you're lying. Back to Sam and his thousands of air miles. He no sooner leaves after a weekend of fun and sex and his cell phone starts to ring, ring, ring. It's the woman who now assumes she's the new girlfriend. Very bad thinking and planning. Then come the messages on his Blackberry, "why aren't you calling back? " The phone rings again and again and the, "I thought you liked me" emails start. Sure darlin' you were ok, but you're not really his type . He's back on Match.com and I'm still back at "I can't believe she let you stay at her house." I'm not letting men off the hook either. You need to get to know these women before you jump in bed with them. I can''t tell you how many of Sam's little weekend vacays have ended up with women tracking him down for weeks/months and one for over a year via phone and email. Does that sound like fun? Was the sex worth it? Do you like to spend your day screening calls?

I have never ever thought of myself as prudish or old fashioned and it's hard to believe I'm going to say this but before you end up an episode on CSI: Miami, New York, Chicago, Louisville etc.,...get to know someone! If you can make a date on the internet you can make a hotel reservation.

Chicken Little

Now that I know there were never weapons of mass destruction I can breathe a big sigh of relief. I also feel far more relaxed thinking our borders are secured from an invading Iraqi army. Thanks Mr. President, whew that was close! I need to talk about the real terror I feel however. I do believe there are terrorists among us. It's Orwellian in nature; they are lurking, waiting , watching ,busy preparing . I never feel ready or armed for what's coming. I'm always ambushed, caught off guard, innocently going about my day and then there's a voice on the radio or face on my tv screen and I want to scream, "no, no, don't say it, go away, leave me alone. Don't interrupt usually scheduled programming. Stop!."

I have fear of weathermen. They are my terrorists. In Chicago it seems not a day goes by without a weather "orange" level alert. SNOW! SNOW is coming! It's coming from Minnesota and it's white, very white, big, dangerous, slippery, deep, there have been deaths, pile-ups, and airport shutdowns. Thousands of flights have been cancelled already. You can't go anywhere, you'll be stuck for days, weeks, maybe the rest of your life. If you have a compromised immune system it'll be even worse. Huh? Oh my God , I need a Xanax, I need a hat. I hate hats, I look terrible in hats. I need mittens, I can never find pure wool mittens . They don't make them anymore without fingers inside. Mittens don't have fingers !!! I need dozens of pairs in case I loose one. I need boots. I have black silk heels, black patent leather wedgies with a little sexy ankle strap, I have ballet flats, I have pink flip-flops, I have red suede really high heels, I don't have boots. I want the Christian Leboutin sandals I saw in the Neiman's catalogue not ugly mini snow plows on my feet. I need sweaters, dozens of layers of sweaters for the frigid cold the terrorists say is coming. Coming fast, too fast to put on all the sweaters. How did Heidi do it? I need a parka. No wait ,I need two parkas. I can't wear an everyday parka with my cocktail dresses. Dolce or Gabanna, can you make me a party parka? I wonder if my mom saved my snow pants. I used to wear them under my skirts. Of course boys didn't like me. I think I can safely assume Heidi never had sex. I need food in the refrigerator in case the snow piles up in front of my door and I'm pushing and pounding on it and no one hears me for days and I can't get out! Scratch that image I live in an apartment on the 4th floor. But I don't have food. How long can I live on ice cubes and four bottles of red wine? I do have a nice Chianti. Oh wait, back behind the condiments I see a left-over turkey wing. I resist my urge to eat it right away.