12 step programs sure are fun!

Wow, those young girlies dating or married to bankers, financiers, and Wall Street boys sure have it tough these days. I should take a good hard look in the mirror and breathe a big old sigh of relief because no one's cut my Bergdorf allowance or nanny hours back. Whew, and "get a freaking grip girls". I wish I could join your new 12 step program that I read about in the New York Times called, "Dating a Banker Anonymous" but I'm too old, don't have a banker boyfriend, Bergdorf allowance, or nanny . I love your idea of meeting over cocktails however, and wish I could just sit around in a party dress with you all and complain about how cranky and depressed my man is... but I have to work! I know this is not what you youngsters signed up for but sometimes bad things happen to 25 year old girls. Bummer.

Uh oh, more sad, sad news... according to Raoul Felder the Manhattan divorce lawyer, in these tough financial times "there aren't funds or time for mistresses any more." Crap, more unemployment. See I'm right, the world is coming to an end. Think of all the distraught struggling financiers who now have to actually go home to their even more distraught and materially deprived young wives. Hang on kids, you have "nothing to fear but fear itself". Well maybe the Bergdorf bill. And the IRS if you didn't "declare" the nanny on your income tax.

"Dating a Banker Anonymous" sounds like a fun group doesn't it? Bitching, moaning, feeling deprived and drinking an apple martini surely is the path to salvation. I love 12 step programs.

Botox or bust?

Got Botox? I don't. But I'm thinkin' about it. Hey I'm in California, they may be bankrupt in two weeks but all the women have smooth smooth wrinkle free skin. (Oh, and nice plumpy lips). Last time I looked in the mirror I let out a gasp. Nothing too loud, but my unconscious must have been frightened. I spent some quality time staring at my forehead and noticed it furrowed a lot. Isn't facial expression passe'? A syringe full of magic paralytic agents and presto chango no wrinkles, or look of terror on my face. Thank God Hillary Clinton is already hip to this, as her botox injections will come in handy during tricky international negotiations. No reading her face anytime soon. Even my hero, Maureen Dowd, has no visible signs of expression or movement from the neck up. Not one teenie weenie twitch. Creepy and awesome!

Trying to look young sure is hard work. I watched my mom at the front lines of fighting age when I was growing up; it was painstaking and time consuming. A veritable arsenal of creams, lotions, potions, wands, and masks were her weapons to combat wrinkles. "Go mom, go"! At the time I thought she was nuts. I screamed when she came near me with her slimy smelly moisturizers. And even today with no help from paralytic injections, plumper uppers, or surgeon's scalpel, she's still fighting. "Never surrender" must be her battle cry. Personally, I feel defeated and want to burst into tears. I'm exhausted running from mirror to mirror trying to determine which one makes me look younger. I think it's the one in the guest bedroom and decide to live there from now on.

Whose wacked out idea was "growing old gracefully"? I'm growing old and don't know what to do... I'm torn between grace and Botox.

Dinner for one... unless you're paying

Strapped for cash but still long for your favorite restaurants? Me too. So, being cheap and inventive I've discovered the trick to dining out on a really, really small budget. No,I'm not plugging the food stand at Target. I'm talkin' appetizers baby! Just say "no" to entrees. Don't even peek at that part of the menu. If temptation calls in the form of "Ahi seared tuna" be strong and look away. Stay very very focused or it will cost you $28.00. And don't despair, the same tasty tuna is available in appetizer form. Catch my drift kids? It's sleight of hand eating. Crafty! No matter how hungry, I remain steadfast and order the tiny portion for only $10.00. This leaves me enough $$ for a martini or nice cabernet; my economic recovery package.

If it's lunch that's a budget cruncher, try my favorite spot, Chez Costco. I highly recommend the lovely pizza slices with the divine frozen yogurt swirl for dessert. This will only set you back about $5, which allows you enough extra money to buy a 1500 pack of AA batteries. Really on a tight dining allowance? Skip the pizza and yogurt combo and fill up on samples. I'm a sample junkie. I love to wander from stand to stand and voraciously grab the free treats. Twice around the store and I call it, "what time is dinner?" Uurrp!

Why in God's name am I bitching, bitching, bitching?! Good morning President Obama! My friend Jane said she's "jubilant". I can't be cranky today. In celebration of this exciting new time, I'm going out to dinner.... and ordering an entree!

California dreamin'

Last Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday were some of the happiest days of my life. The New York Times didn't deliver the paper. I was in a news free bubble. Everything was right with my tiny tiny universe. What President? What investigation? The Middle East, where's that?  What's a Steve Bannon? Isn't Hamas a dip? I was a blithering idiot, but didn't care. The sun was out, the temperature was 72 degrees, my biggest concern was what SPF level would best prevent wrinkles and delay further aging.  After much pondering and label reading I decided on a nice spf 30. I took my little rescue Tulip for a walk to the local coffee shop where we sat outside and shared a biscotti. I was so calm I checked myself for a pulse. I've never spent a day without the news.  Wow and namaste!

Honestly I didn't miss knowing what was going on in the world. My news free bubble was busy, busy, busy. I went out to buy wine and although it disturbed me slightly to realize they only sell three kinds of grapes in California (cabernet, merlot, pinot noir), I got over it. I sat out in the hot tub, very nice and bubbly. I was getting dumber by the day.  I called the New York Times and complained I didn't get a paper, but realized I didn't care. Who am I?

The very next day the paper got delivered. My idyllic bubble burst before my very eyes. The news slimmed me.  Chaos, testimony, fake news, climate agreements, tax reform, health care and, artic temperatures  bombarded my brain.  I'm anxious, my nerves are shot, and I question my purchase of Spf 30 instead of 50.  

Economics 101 or sex sells.

Girls, girls, girls, why didn't anyone let me in on this? It can't be a secret if I read the news in the New York Times. I feel totally left out to say nothing of realizing I'm the world's biggest prude. Apparently women are shopping up a storm and not just at Target, where yours truly is staked out waiting for the latest shipment of $20 dresses. While I'm trying on cheap clothes the rest of you are buying high priced sex toys. Is this true? Nice! And huh? Ixnay to designer handbags and hello to the "We-Vibe"! Yep, women are splurging on pulsating rubber duckies, vibrating lipstick tubes, jewel-tone fur ticklers, pulsing cigars that turn into pendants and pearl wrist restraints that double as necklaces. ( I love nice jewelry). Rock and roll girls. I say spend that rebate check! Hank Paulson, did you know this?

At least one industry in the country is booming AND wouldn't this be a much better way to lead off the evening news? Instead of hearing the auto companies bitch and moan and brokerage houses crying for bigger bail-outs how about, "Sex toy sales are up 50% from this time last year". Or "Sweden today reported a run on the "Gigi", a rose-colored rechargeable vibrator and the "Nea" a palm sized massager". Wouldn't that be a national pick-me-up?

Btw, President Bush, Alan Greenspan et al, this is what I call a stimulus package.

Bye-bye Bergdorfs!

The economy getting you down? Feeling sad and longing for the days filled with mocha frappaccinos and soy lattes? Ixnay to those expensive coffee drinks in 2009, to say nothing of the weekly manicure and $10 martini with blue cheese stuffed olives. Oh, how I long for those tasty olives. To make matters more dire, according to my budget it will be 2012 before I can buy anything new to wear. Call it shabby chic or plain old threadbare, I won't be looking too good. Or making my own clothes. Face it, can anyone over 50 see well enough to thread a needle? Last time I tried I had to get a tetnus shot when the bleeding stopped.

But hang on just one second....maybe I will have new clothes before 2012! Could it be? Yes, yes, yes, there on the horizon in giant red letters was my salvation. TARGET! IT'S THE NEW BERGDORFS! Whoa baby, why didn't anyone tell me? The store was packed, shopping carts flying in every direction. Girls, move over and let me at the merchandise! Who knew you could buy a dress for $19.95? Kiss Neiman's good-bye and try on one of these babies. Who cares about the crappy lighting in the hard to find dressing rooms, I'm talkin' under $20. Ok, ok, I admit I burst into tears looking at myself under florescent lights but, I almost bought a dress! Sadly, it would have looked much better on someone 25 but happily, I could have paid cash for it.

Maybe 2009 won't be so bad after all. Frappaccinos are way too fattening, soy lattes are just plain weird, and as for my beloved blue cheese stuffed olives .... how hard can it be to stuff an olive? Besides I've had a tetnus shot.

I'm hiding, I'm hiding and no one knows where!

Please, please, please,no one tell Andy A. the nasty weatherman on chanel 5 in Chicago where I am. I escaped his forecasts of winter weather horror and hightailed it to Palm Springs on his day off. Sun and blue, blue sky is mine for the basking and he's stuck in ice and cold. Ha, ha, Andy I've left you and your below zero predictions behind! Brrrrrrrrrrrrr. We're so over. So smile your sadistic little smile, as you talk of snow, snow, snow... you can't hurt me now. Ok, ok, I know I sound crazy, but he's got "terrorist" written all over his face. I couldn't take another winter with the guy; his endless weather hysteria scares the bejesus out of me.

On my drive to California I wore my North Face parka as far as Phoenix and then with joy in my heart ripped it off, threw it down and stomped on it. I thought briefly about setting it on fire, but didn't. Suddenly I felt lighter than air and no longer looked like a Siberian refugee. If anyone wants the rest of my winter clothes let me know where to send them. I have 2 wool scarves, 3 mittens, 5 gloves, long underwear bottoms, and 2 pairs of socks too thick to fit into shoes. Sexy!

It's hard to be depressed about the weather in Palm Springs unless sunny days drive you to drink. I've heard a few people grousing that it's too cold , and feel the urge to choke them. Once in a while I open the trunk of my car, peek in at my balled up parka, laugh and slam it closed. Andy, I dare you to find me.

How I spent my Christmas Vacation or I hate road trips

I can count backwards from 1,965. It takes 3 days and two nights. I'm talkin' the number of miles between Chicago and Palm Springs and they do not go faster if you count each and every one of them as you drive. After five minutes in the car.... whoopee and holy crap only 1,964 to go! The best analogy to driving across the country is giving birth. It seems like a good idea at the time, but it really really sucks, then you magically forget and do it again. I vowed to never again forget but there I was behind the wheel. Not alone however, I have too much anxiety to go it solo. I find absolutely no peace or excitment in the "open road", only slow excruciating arm chewing torture. I needed help, I could not possibly go all the way to California without ruining three days of someone else's life also.

Whining and begging are my specialties and after days/weeks of both I got my friend Dan to drive with me. Oh, before I forget, it was on the condition that we do not spend the night in a motel room with a kitchenette. Huh? Odd request, but hey, maybe he was utensil phobic. Or I'm a moron. He remembered I hadn't yet acheived my 2008 New Year's resolution to have sex in the kitchen (see Dec 22nd blog "Quick before it's 2009") "Ok, ok," I promised... but I've re-listed it for 2009.

I am not a good road person. If Dan hadn't been navigating I would have ended up spending the winter in Memphis. AAA road maps were flying everywhere and I couldn't understand the directions in the Trip Tix to save my life. Right turn, left turn, half turn, bear slightly north, look for int.state hwy 17, not to be confused with 17A....help!!! Dan yelled at me to get the opened map out of his face while he was drivng and my solution was to crumple it into a ball. No, I don't have the patience or motor skill to fold a map. Time did not fly in Illinois, Missouri, Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona or California. It went really, really, really slow. Really slow. Btw, I discovered Dan snores and he discovered I get up to pee alot. I did have one exceptionally happy moment...finding gas in southern Missouri for $1.35 a gallon. Tears of joy streamed down my face as I filled the tank. Finally Tuesday December 30 at 1:00 I had counted down to 0. 1,965 miles were behind me and wait a sec, I almost freaking forgot....ahead of me. Any volunteers for the trip back in March? No kitchenettes, I promise.