Natonal Holidays Got You Down? Eat Pez and Drink.

Bah Humbug another long holiday weekend looms on the horizon. Didn't we just have one? Personally I think they should be spaced much farther apart as once again the pressure to grill or be invited to a barbecue mounts. I don't have a grill or the mental fortitude to buy one when a deadline is involved. It makes me nervous and rashy to be in a rush. I have considered purchasing a small George Foreman model for the kitchen counter but I think size does matter on national holidays. Besides which even if I had a big snazzy tricked out Weber then I'd need guests to invite over. Is there a "guest" category on Craig's List? All my friends know they could be blown up or set on fire if I'm cooking. I can't send out invitations that say "wear fire retardant clothing."

I am a good guest however so if anyone needs an extra at their barbecue I'm available. Although please don't ask me to bring a "dish." I never know what that really means - a dish of what? And does preparing one require gingham clothing? Why can't I just bring a box of Oreos or pass out Pez? On second thought don't invite me. I'll have holiday fun by going to a parade with the dog. He loves marching bands and taking food from small children. I'll just be happy I'm not home blowing up the deck or setting my friends on fire.

I think it's best to be alone. I'll drink bottles of nice crispy Sauvignon Blanc, eat Pez, and read the back issues of "People" that I "borrowed" from my Dentist's office. Uh oh, he reads my blog.... I promise I'll bring them back on Tuesday. Call me if you want Pez.

"To Droid or Not to Droid?"

"To Droid or not to Droid that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in my mind to suffer the slings, arrows, and anxiety attacks of learning new technology or take arms against it and by opposing stick with my antiquated flip phone." I don't think Hamlet suffered the way I am now that my AT&T contract is up and I am free to change carriers and devices. There are too many questions and no fool proof options for a techno-dummy like myself. It took me over a year to learn how to add new contacts to my address book. I still have no idea how to send a text . Btw the last one I wrote I had to do over six times until it read as English and not Jabberwocky. I tried to take a picture of my Yellow Lab"Beefy Boy" but ended up with a photo of my arm . Does it sound like I am prepared for more advanced technology?

"To sleep perchance to dream of using the iPhone: ay there's the rub." Although the "rub" is really the touch pad. I tried one and almost needed to go back into therapy. It took me 45 minutes to spell Gail and not Hbjm. I think all those apps sure sound like fun but I hate games , don't mind asking for directions and like the Yellow Pages. Just as an experiment in terror I wandered in to my local Verizon store to look at all the slick little phones. Poor cute Brian waited on me. He was very patient and told me the story of how his Grandmother is technologically impaired also. "Do you think I'm old enough to be your Nana?" I shrieked. I burst into tears and said if there was a "Botox" app I'd take the phone. I left the store empty handed and hightailed it home to search for a plastic surgeon in the Yellow Pages.

A friend of mine told me he likes his Droid X so much that if he could have sex with it his life would be complete. This made me laugh and then ponder...is there an app for that?

Is My Mom Hef's Next Girlfriend?

Mom, Hugh Hefner is on the market again. This could be a big opportunity for you as maybe he's finally going to date age appropriate women. Yes, it's true his nuptuals to Crystal Harris the 25 year old fiance have been called off. No wedding bells for Hef - he probably couldn't hear them anyway so no biggie. Finally the child bride came to her senses and traded her rose colored glasses for a prescription pair. Our little girl must have tired of Dean Martin and Andy Williams which I think is programmed into all the bunny iPods . And no, Lady Gaga won't be recording "Moon River" any time soon so she made the right decision. Call me a cynic but I believe a 60 year age difference is too big a gap to bridge. Thankfully I no longer have that option unless anyone knows a single 120 year old - or did I meet him on Match recently?

Will Hef finally come to his senses and realize these youngins' are using him for free food, lodging, silicone and peroxide? If I were them I'd just Trick or Treat at the mansion and not move in. Do Hef and all the girls have fireside chats? Speaking of which does anyone but Hef recognize the initials FDR? Mom and Hef at least have that in common. She is also up on current events that don't involve the Jonas Brothers or Vampire movies. Mom also knows where the Middle East is which might be tricky for any of his girlies. Call me crazy but she seems like a better match for the old guy. My Mom also likes to spend half the day in her robe, so that's perfect.

I don't know about Crystal but I'm happy she doesn't have to have sex with Hef anymore. And I pray she doesn't tell that part of the story to "The Enquirer" because ewwwwww and this inquiring mind does not want to know. Besides which I was concerned for Hef's health as I believe it was only a matter of time unitl he exploded from all the Viagra .

"Hef think it over. My Mom could be perfect for you."

Is My Hair on Fire?

I am a weather phobe. There is not much about a weather report that doesn't scare the bejesus out of me. I considered the Channel 5 weatherman in Chicago a mortal enemy as he seemed to take joy in meteorological disaster. He always smiled when five feet of white white snow was headed my way. I was frantic realizing I could be trapped inside for days/weeks while he was grinning and collecting a pay check. Just once couldn't he feel my pain, burst into tears and run around screaming? He and I had to break-up as it was a dead end relationship. I headed for Palm Springs, CA to find weather love.

Ahhh balmy dry days and breezy idyllic nights were mine. The weatherman smiled because he reported good news. "Another day of 75 degrees. And the weekend looks just as pleasant." At last a relationship that had potential. I was anxiety free, no more weather trauma for this girl. Or so I thought. It's June and summer is coming. Ominous sounding numbers are on people's lips: 110, 115, 120 degrees. Words like "You can't touch the steering wheel without burning your hands" "The pool is too hot to swim." "I play golf at 4:00a.m." "You better slather your skin with cream or you'll look like a reptile by September. " I hate reptiles. I hate 4:00a.m. At 120 degrees can my hair catch on fire? And what about my Yellow Lab,"Beefy Boy?" How will he walk on boiling, bubbling pavement? He'll have to wear shoes.

It's inevitable, triple digit temperatures are coming and I feel my weather anxiety rising. I'm beginning to doubt the concept that "dry" heat is better. What does that really mean? I'll hardly notice my face is in flames? I can only conclude that "heat" is "snow" spelled differently.

Bluetooth Rehab Has Me Down

I am ready for bluetooth rehab. Ever since I got the ill fated ticket for driving and talking on my cell phone my life has been on tilt. I have bought and returned four different devices in the last two weeks. I got smart however after two and started purchasing them at different AT&T stores. I realized the sales people were running for cover when I walked in. I noticed the girl who sold me the first one beg for a lunch break when she saw me four days later. That was the longest time I kept a bluetooth - the shortest was 12 hours. And trust me when I say I have made a study of the ill conceived little pieces of plastic. "Hands free" has made me a stark raving dis-satisfied customer. "This is useless!" I sobbed to the sales person after three days with the "best on the market" piece of equipment that clipped to the visor. "I screamed at it the entire drive to L.A. and no one could hear me." He offered kleenex , my money back, and ran.

I decided to change methodology and go with one that hung behind my ear. It was groovy for three days; I was almost happy. Then it started talking to me and no, I was not having acid flashbacks. It said "low battery" over and over regardless of it being fully charged. I started talking back "You're fully charged! Stop saying that." I returned it as something told me conversing with inanimate objects requires medical attention. I obsessively canvassed all my friends, who sadly are no longer speaking to me, about what they used. I think John changed his phone number as I can't reach him. Next I tried a bluetooth that went in my ear. I hated it, too uncomfortable and I itched all over. I returned it at a distant location to avoid being recognized.

I thought about buying a new car that comes with built in "hands free" but even in my addled state $30,000 for bluetooth didn't seem cost effective. Although it would provide all new sales people which is tempting.