Oh no another election!

Thank God the days of dueling are over as right about now I'd be boning up on my skills with a six shooter or sword. Presidential elections are fun aren't they? I'm going into hiding until November 4th because my head is about to explode and vitriol will be oozing out all over my cute summer clothes. I was close to choking a man twice my size, which would have required my leaping over four glasses of a lovely Chardonnay and a cheese plate, because we were discussing Obama vs. McCain on Supreme Court picks. I love lively political banter. Now where are those damn pistols?

The last Presidential race was a conversation killer also. I had no friends by November and didn't want any. Fortunately I didn't leave marks on anyone's neck but I decided alone under the bed for the next four years was best. I cancelled all my newspapers determined to live in a political vacuum. That lasted three weeks. Dick Cheney I'm so mad at you. Couldn't you keep your neo-conservative ideas to yourself? Be happy you have a blond wife and lots of money and go away. As for the rest of the posse, at long, long, last I can say , "good-bye and please don't write memoirs" . About the G.W. Bush Presidential library; it's a bit too oxymoric for me not to burst out laughing. How about a nice well dusted shelf somewhere and save the taxpayers some money?

There is only one way for me to survive until November without a police record... I've put a moratorium on all political discussion unless it's with someone who agress with me. Doesn't that sound restful? As for those who want to engage in exchanging points of view, I suggest taking two Xanax and call me in the morning.

Here comes Bridezilla

Listen up brides-to-be, don't ask me to be in your wedding. I know summer's the height of your season but I read an article in the New York Times Style section that implied you're getting persnickety. It sounded to me like you've gone mad. Girls get a freaking grip on yourselves, it's a wedding not a human sacrifice to the fountain of youth. Botox, restylane, chemical peels, Fraxel laser treatments are now de rigueur for the bride's attendants. For God's sake you're all so young, the mirror is still a friend, not an enemy combatant. Take a Xanax Bridezilla. What happened to handing out nice bracelets from Tiffanys as a little thank you? I don't want Botox or fillers! I want a bracelet! "Hand over the jewelry and put the needle down".

I don't care if the bride picks up the tab for the paralytic agents, I don't want them and I'm cheap,really, really cheap. Sadly, I could use a facial refresher, but I've chosen soap over poison. I read that my future daughter-in-law could ixnay me from the wedding party if I don't agree to this cosmetic torture. Dr. Frankenstein can you help me out here? Poor Mom can't be in the wedding if her face shows any sign of movement. Apparently one bride demanded her bridesmaids get breast implants. Clever girl got a surgeon to agree to do four for the price of two. Blindingly white teeth, tanned skin, liposuctioned thighs, new cleavage, and paralyzed foreheads, wow girls sounds like what you really need is a good mortician. Someone call the bride police.

Just for fun I pulled out my old wedding pictures. My hair looked like crap . Whose idea was a perm? I hate the dress too. I think I was high when I bought it. I was smiling however, which meant I could move my face.

Me, Ken, and GI Joe

Women need blow-up dolls too. Do they come in a male version? Bergdorfs has so many special boutiques maybe they carry them. Neimans has just about everything in their Christmas catalogue. My girlfriend mentioned the idea as an option if she were to re-marry. Hmmmmmmm. I loved dolls as a child, although not Ken or GI Joe;they had bad, bad clothes and didn't like my tea parties. But maybe clothes don't really make the man. Except pant length does. Oh God, what is worse than pants that are too short? It screams geek even at 60. My blow-up man would always have the correct length. And good shoes, another important detail. Ken, GI Joe, got Italian loafers?

Ok, I'm shallow, very, very shallow but so what? I'm digging this doll idea. Just think we'd have the same political opinions. WHAT A RELIEF THAT WOULD BE. I could take out the ear plugs and ditch the Valium. "I can't believe you would ever vote for that moron" would be replaced by "I totally agree with you". I feel calmer already. And my plastic man would be neat, no cleaning up after this guy. Wow, blow-up boy I love that you never leave dishes in the sink". "Wanna order out again"? "So do I"! Here's the best part "You have a headache"? "What a coincidence, me too"!

Blow-up boy sure is easy to get along with. He doesn't mind your nights out with the girlfriends or get mad when you come home with big bags from Bloomingdales and Saks . It's so quiet in the house with this guy. Not a peep out of him when you're reading. Anyone else interested? Perhaps girls don't outgrow dolls after all.

Martha Stewart ,I need you babe!

I have a "black" thumb aka"the thumb of death". Martha Stewart do you make house calls? I promise we won't talk about stocks or prison life. Help Martha, help, I'm a flower assassin! Now granted I never wanted my own garden, looking at other people's tulips was good enough. I could never figure out why anyone would want to crawl around in dirt for hours wearing giant gloves. I've always hated dirt and gloves. Plants were a big responsibility; too much water, too little water, no water, who wouldn't get anxiety? I bought a "Wandering Jew" once , supposedly they never die, just grow, grow, grow. I'm Jewish, I swear I didn't kill it on purpose. The guilt was more than I could bare. Ixnay to anything that required dirt, gloves and water.

So how and why did I become Rebecca of freaking Sunnybrook Farm? A tray of unpotted Begonias was sitting on the deck waiting for my boyfriend to plant them. Waiting... still waiting... dying... crap. "I can't help you, I killed a wandering Jew, I'm a jinx, I hate dirt... I don't have gloves". Yet, I couldn't bare the sight of half dead pink things;how hard could it be to put one stupid little plant in a pot? Heroin, crack, meth, you name it, those little flowers hooked me like drugs. I became a potting machine. I potted everything in sight. I even wondered whether I could grow tobacco by planting a cigarette butt that was lying in a bush.

I have no life. I've become a gardener. I get up, grab coffee and run out to see what flowers are living , dead or got sick while I slept. I have the vigilance of a time lapse camera. And yes, I need medication. I boldly planted an entire bed of Impatients which are trying my patience , as they mock me with feigned death. I've begged , sang , crawled on my hands and knees covered in mosquito bites pleading with them to find a reason to live. I thought they were kill proof?! "Please don't die! I can't afford more therapy". Martha Stewart you'll know, should I hire a stringed quartet or see if they'd prefer Evian water?

For Richer or for richer

Wedding ceremonies are not for the faint of heart. I just went to my nephew's wedding and although it was in an idyllic setting with a handsome groom, gorgeous bride and a bunch of hot/fabulous looking attendants, the vows were a bit of a downer. Whoa, those are some mighty weighty questions. Truthfully they're a little frightening and not for the ambivalent. Does anyone really think seriously about the answers? Everyone seems to just blurt out "I do". There's never a, "let me go home and give it some real thought , but go ahead with the cocktail hour". According to the divorce rate "I'm not sure" would be a good response, or "huh"? Or even, "you talkin' to me"?

"Do you take this person for richer or for poorer"? Come on be honest, no one wants poorer. Especially the young trophy bride with the old guy, she needs the question rephrased "do you take this man for richer or for richer"? She definitely has to have an out clause if things get poorer. Ah, but alas, he's not rich and completely stupid, there's the pre-nup. I wish they'd read that at the ceremony. "In sickness and in health"? Now that's a little morbid. Who gets to be healthy? And is there good medical insurance? It's a long time until Medicare and what really are the chances of a universal health care bill getting out of Congress? Oh man, and then there's the pact sealer..."as long as you both shall live". Well that's made liars out of half of us, hasn't it? I confess, I've lied, twice and I consider myself honest. How do you think that makes me feel? Single, very, very single.

I may have to stay away from weddings for a while. They confuse and give me a headache. "I do... I don't... I'm not sure...Maybe... I think I do for now but maybe not later..." all reasonable answers. Until I sort this out no marriage proposals please.

Blow-up dolls never talk back

Crap, my friend Jack's found the "perfect" woman... again. How many times have I heard this? I can't count that high anymore. "Don't say that, I lecture him. You just met her, don't use the perfect word". (It's the kiss of death). "For God's sake, , everyone is still perfect after two dates, unless they pull a gun on you". He pretended to agree , "I know, I know, you're right" he demurred. He was lying . He really wanted to think he FINALLY found perfect. Ouch babe you're 65 the gene pool is shrinking fast. I'm guessing in three weeks Ms. Perfect will be, "she was too short, fat, tall, religious, Republican, critical, or a really bad driver". Take your pick. Trust me it will be something. "Bad driver" was last January.

Jack, Jack, Jack how many times do I have to tell you, no woman is perfect. Thank God, because then you're talking blow -up doll. Although... they don't get fat, have bad hair days, controversial political opinions or unbearable religious convictions, but you would have to do all the driving. Oh, and you can pick their clothes which he would like. As for real women, give us a break and find a replacment word for "perfect". I for one would love to have "no bad hair days" but I cringe at the thought of someone thinking I'm perfect...which they never, ever do. I think "pain in the ass" is my title. Perfect, is a set-up for one ill spoken word, bad outfit or chipped nail and you're outta here. Next!

The truth is anyone seeking perfect really wants to be alone. And hey, there's nothing wrong with that, just don't blame it on someone else.

I want a dog's life

Who would trade their dog for a man? Come on girls fess up. Got an answer? I promise I won't tell. And be honest. Leona Helmsley left $12 million to her dog "Trouble". Nice going little furry guy. You're far, far better off than I am. No worrying about your dog house going into foreclosure or health care. I assume you have a team of veterinarians. I hope you have a good accountant however, as $12million dollars doesn't go as far as it used to. Take it easy on the chauffeur bills, and ixnay to canary yellow diamond collars. If you get lonely and need a new owner I'm available... and cheap.

I've had men and dogs in my life. Each dog outlasted a husband. Whoops and sorry Mom . It was never really a tough call and congratulations "Jonah and Miami". A big shout out to "Thurber" who survived 3 longish relationships. They were great dogs and ironically it wasn't hard for any of them to learn "stay". I love that dogs don't care about cooking. Isn't that really really sweet? Every day the same meal and not a peep out of them. My Yellow Lab Elliot thinks I'm Julia Childs they way he scarfs down his food. He also seems perfectly happy listening to me complain...about everything. He thinks I'm nice, unlike most people. I admit I'm envious of his hair color but resist the temptation to go that blond. I take him everywhere even though he doesn't fit in my purse.

Elliot don't worry, the good news is I would never trade. The bad news is I can't leave you $12million.

Invite me over, PLEASE.

I hate national holidays. Bah humbug! Or is that holiday specific? I never have anything to do. No picnics to attend; besides bringing a "dish" is too stressful, e coli or salmonella, take your pick. No friends to call because they're all at picnics, waiting to get sick. No bike to ride; it was stolen. No golf tourney at the club; I don't golf and what club? No tennis round robin; what does that mean anyway? No parade to attend with three small screaming children waving flags and a Golden Retriever dressed as Betsy freaking Ross. Besides parades are like Chinese food.

Are the stores open? I could go on a shopping spree and as a patriotic American try to single handedly save the economy. Btw, where's my rebate check Mr. President? I wish I had that man's phone number. I bet he's having a big old barbeque at the ranch. YEE HAW ! Where's that day old potato salad? I wonder what Dick Cheney does on July 4th. I hope he goes to a parade and has some fun. He always looks so serious like he's planning a war or something. Oh and Dick, you're so pasty white don't forget sun-block.

It's 9:30 a.m. I have hours and hours and hours to go. Crap. At 12:00 "All My Children" is on (oh God, I hope it's not pre-empted by a parade); it's a good day to catch up with Erica. She's probably either in prison or getting married; love the symbolism. I have to face it, national holidays make me feel like a loser. Winners have parades, picnics, cole slaw, e coli, beer and dogs dressed like the Founding Fathers. I vow to get a dog before Labor Day.

Green, environment, foreclosure, toxic, tra la !

No, this is not about a green environment turned toxic that is in foreclosure. I just read those are the words which currently attract the most media and search engine attention so I thought I'd write them and see what happens. Not that I'm expecting CNN, Fox, CBS, MSNBC, ABC , MTV or the Cartoon Channel to contact me today, but I'll wait for a while. Keith Olberman feel free to call and ask me out... I promise I'll wear "green" so it won't be a complete waste. I should also mention: "money, fat, cancer and sex". I write "sex" a lot and unless it has , "and the city" after it I don't think "sex" is news. Elliot Spitzer don't cry I haven't forgotten you. . As for "fat", aren't we finally resigned to the fact that we're a country of fatties; no news there. BORING!

Anything that mentions long term health risks is big, big, big! "Help my cell phone gave me kidney stones. Computer use can cause bad breath and heart disease". Ok now will the New York Times please check in!? Hollywood divorces/escapades are always hot. "Elizabeth Taylor accepts date with the Pope". Whoops, that will only make the AARP magazine. At least he's age appropriate but I thought she was Jewish. Do I dare mention the "out" words or will that jinx my plan... "solutions, leading edge, cutting edge, state of the art, mission critical and turnkey". I had my fingers crossed and held my breath.

"Bring 'em on" the search engines that is. Come get me! I said every news triggering word. Call me, write me, track me down. Oh and Liz, sorry, I couldn't think of anyone else for you to date.