Sunday, April 18, 2021


Granted… pretty much everything in today’s world is done by email. Which I do have to say is a MAJOR thorn in my side. I am soooo sick of email, I can’t tell you. I have email from friends going back weeks and weeks yet I just can’t bring myself to reply. Mainly because by the time I’m finished deleting all the junk mail and all the unwanted advertisements, I’m way too spent to even THINK about I really SHOULD be reading. 

Plus… I have to spend hordes of time unsubscribing to all this bullshit junk mail, yet often times, to no avail. In fact, I have one friend who merely looks at one website and boom. Next thing you know, they’ve got zillions of OTHER sites sending them email, messages, whatever. It’s like the links grow and grow within minutes. Of course, some of the mail they get is totally worth checking out, if for nothing else, because sometimes it turns out to contain racy content, which as you know, is so up my alley. Kind of.

Case in point: suppose you search some upscale after bath body lotion for instance. Next thing you know you’re getting ads for sexual lubricants and from there you’re getting ads for sexual toys and then from THERE all of a sudden... you’re receiving info on blowup dolls. Man. Talk about a huge jump from one topic to the other but FAST. It’s like totally easy to make yourself become a degenerate in no time flat.

Then again… as I said… checking out these crazy ass sites could easily keep me busy for half a day, should I be so inclined. Especially if it’s graphic photo ads for mens’ sexy underwear, for instance. Luckily however… I myself seldom get any of these kinds of emails or ads, so I needn’t worry about wasting too much time on questionable advertisements. I don’t even want to KNOW what could show up in my email were I to ever visit porn sites for instance. HERE’S A HOT ONE… SEND HER EVERYTHING YOU’VE GOT. SHE’S CHECKING OUT EVERYTHING WE SEND HER AND SOON ENOUGH, SHE’LL BE ONE OF US, JUST YOU WAIT AND SEE. LET’S HERE IT FOR OLD LADIES WHO SURF THE WEB! Just what I need.

Which brings me right smack back to first class snail mail. Yes, I totally get loads of junk mail, but at least it’s all about cleaning your gutters, or having hearing tests, or what’s on sale at Ace Hardware. Better yet… I can toss them out in half a second and boom. They are gone from my life for ever. And speaking of mail… my mailbox outside is cleared everyday without anything ever having to wait until I accumulate zillions of mail like what goes on in my email inbox. Basically… snail mail is WAY easier to control. YAY FREE STANDING MAILBOXES. Yay Alan, too, who happens to be my fantastic mailman, but that’s another story altogether.

In the meantime, in my neighborhood, we are required to all have the same black mail box so everything looks tidy and pretty to help maintain our image of impressive conformity, I guess. And… replacing one of these is a chunk of money, btw. I almost had to do it once when a friend backed out of my driveway and cut the turn way too soon. Oh yeah… and get this… one time a few years ago, a committee of sorts came down all the streets, painting and refreshing and straightening all the mailboxes so they’d all look brand new. I definitely loved that mainly because it wasn’t ME doing the work for everyone else. I know. I'm a real giver. I’m telling you though… it was HUGE job and must have taken these volunteers weeks to get everyone’s done. 

So apparently… home mailboxes are a big deal to folks. In other neighborhoods, for instance, some people even make their OWN mailboxes and posts. Some are very creative and some are very pretty. Some you can even tell that a lot of work went into their creations. Like the one up above, actually. Which is what I REALLY want to tell you about.

See how nicely the homeowner worked to treat the wooden post for his mailbox? And how he built it so it would house his specially selected box just perfectly? And see how nicely the hardware looks on the post? Yeah. Well, guess what.



All because I left my girlfriend’s house and drove around the street’s cul de sac like I’ve done a million times before AND NEXT THING YOU KNOW, I RAN RIGHT INTO THE FANCY SCHMANCY MAILBOX BELONGING TO SOMEONE I DON’T EVEN KNOW! It was horrible is all I can say.

Turns out, I pulled out my girlfriend’s driveway happy as a little lark, and went around the cul de sac alright BUT I WAS ALSO CHANGING THE SATELLITE RADIO'S CHANNEL IN MY CAR SO I COULD HEAR THE GEORGE FLLOYD TRIAL!! MY EYES WERE LITERALLY OFF THE ROAD FOR MERE SECONDS! And then of course… I heard THE most loud scrunch you ever heard, when my car immediately slammed into this mailbox and fucked up my car fender but GOOD. Don’t. Even. Ask.

Naturally, I then had to alert the homeowner who by the way, has this HUGE, LONG STEEP DRIVEWAY which I knew right off the bat, I never could walk. I totally drove my car up to the house and hopped out and rang the bell.


Those are the exact words I used when I spoke to the sweet lady! She didn’t freak out at all and basically her come back to this news was: OH, DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT, MY HUSBAND WILL FIX IT… but I then had to say to her.. UH, NO. YOU BETTER COME SEE IT. IT DOESN’T LOOK GOOD AT ALL!

I think she was shocked but who could blame her?? I made a WRECK of her mailbox! And of the newspaper delivery box that is alongside it. Were someone to have done this to MY mailbox, I can almost promise you I’d never be as gracious as this woman, believe me. Of course… don’t think I will go unpunished however…

Can you believe this?? Have any clue what the repair costs to my car will be?? Well, actually, neither do I at the moment. But it will be PLENTY, trust me. The guy I WAS going to go to is out of commission for several weeks due to spinal surgery, so everything is kind of on hold for a moment. In fact, I try to ignore the entire thing as much as possible hoping that one day I will wake up and say to myself: OH, THAT’S NOT NEARLY AS BAD AS I ORIGINALLY THOUGHT! Uh… except it is. 

Oh man. This so isn’t good, is all I can say. I’m stuck with a major bill to replace my fender and will be without a car for God only knows how long. I’ll totally have to rent a car given I so don’t want to hop into a complete stranger and/or Uber driver’s car who, for all I know, is heavy into rape and death. Talk about taking a gamble on my own life! Oh yeah… btw, the people who own this mailbox never contacted me thus apparently they don’t hate me nor are they charging me for the placement of the box. I LOVE YOU LYNN AND HUNTER!

So much so that today I sent them a hotshit looking floral arrangement thanking them for understanding I’m now officially an old lady driver, sort of a loose cannon on the road. A kind, honest one, granted. But a threat to others nonetheless.

Which SO REMINDS ME.  Guess what else I have to do by next month.

I HAVE TO TAKE AND PASS THE VISION AND ROAD SIGN PART OF THE DRIVER’S TEST TO RENEW MY DRIVER’S LICENSE!! I’ve been in a panic over this renewal since 8 years ago, when I last took one. PLUS… get this… apparently my renewal can only be for 5 years since I’m over 66 years old!! Talk about age discrimination! I HATE THIS. Man. Am I ever going to have to load up on Ativan before I head on over there. Even as I write this, my heart is pounding from anxiety. I NEVER had feelings of not passing a test in high school OR college… but DRIVING TESTS FOR ROAD SIGNS AND EYEBALLS?? Boom. I’m totally a fucked up disaster.

Much like the mailbox and my car.

Tuesday, April 13, 2021


I’ve often said that in my next life I pray I will have a waistline. I also pray I’ll have a flat belly. And oh yeah… a hot looking ass, too. A natural red head wouldn’t go amiss, either. Lastly, I would LOVE to have a great singing voice. I guess when I was young, I could  MAYbe sing on key, but not really.

In fact, when my parents took me to college as a freshman, I remember my Dad seeing a sign in the University Center, it's student union building, inviting students to join the Glee Club on campus and then telling me... to sign up imMEDiately! Can you even imagine? I am so telling you. One audition and the club would throw me out on my fat ass in seconds flat. With MY voice? Please. So never going to happen.

Granted, before I became old, I could sing the words to every song ever recorded from 1949 on. Teresa Brewer, Patti Paige, Ray Charles, Frankie Laine, Sarah Vaughan, Frankie Valli, The Four Tops, Janis Joplin...etc. etc. Of course, even then, Fats Domino was my favorite. Well… until Elvis came along in the early 50s, that is. One look at him and bingo. He easily moved into #1 on my A List. But to imagine I actually HAD a voice was another thing altogether. So much for my singing career.

But guess what. Thanks to my niece, Laura, I now CAN be a singer, after all! Talk about a dream come true! I can’t even believe it. HOW did I become a rock star? Oh man… a sheer miracle is how. And you too, can become one also if you so desire. Right smack in your own living room if you want! Hallelujah. Is this the best idea or WHAT?? So the deal is…

There I was one day recently, having a perfectly wonderful day. And, it got even more wonderful because I got a text from Laura telling me that Amazon delivered a package for me. Now THAT’S music to my ears, alright. A PRESENT! One I didn’t even have to pay for myself! Xmas in April, if ever there was! So how long you think it took me to race to my front door? Uh… seconds.

So I grab the box, I sit down in my family room, I open it and I was stunned. THE most beautiful microphone you ever saw! A very high tech one too, btw, which only meant I had no clue at first what the hell it was all about. BUT… I still had to put it on my mantle regardless, given it was SO up my alley. Honestly... the microphone couldn't look any more beautiful than say a Fabergé egg. Well... except for the fact one is worth less than $40 maybe, and the other is worth about 40 MILLION... but who's counting. I briefly read the directions and decided this was way above my head thus needed to wait until I had time to really concentrate on what it was all about. The microphone sat there for about 5 days, maybe.

THEN… the time had come. Finally one evening, I figured it was time to check out this stunning microphone and see what was going on with it. OMG. YOU HAVE NO IDEA. I became a famous rock star within MINutes!

Turns out this microphone is also a portable home karaoke machine. I mean really… what could be more fun?? A major recording studio right at my fingertips! Seriously. You have several buttons that will do all kinds of things. To set it up however, you have to sync it to your cellphone or iPad Bluetooth. Then... you go to either a playlist of yours or to YouTube and bingo. You choose a song and START SINGING. LYRICS AND ALL! I could be Tina Turner or a back up to Elton John in no time at all! Shit… I fell in love with this immediately!!

I then Facetimed Laura and began singing with Tina right off the bat so she could see how her Aunt Linda was the instant musical star of the stage. Naturally, I was a hit. I then had to sing for my son, so I Facetimed him, too. He LOVED having a rock star for a Mother and laughed with sheer pride during my entire rendition. Then of course, I repeated my performance for anyone I could possibly think of. Why hold back? I had major fans within minutes. 

Which only means: forget about home being where the heart is. Better home should become your new karaoke studio! You’ll be a hit with everyone who enters your home, forever. Let alone any home you ever go to visit. Remember: this studio is portable! Stuff the mic in your purse, go somewhere, turn your phone on and boom. You’re now the entertainer of the year. And your friends can be one, too. Well… IF you let them try it out that is... but I’m not really sure I want to share my stardom quite yet.

In fact, Laura was telling me she was singing all over the place when she recently hosted a brunch at her house. Apparently she was entertaining everyone up the kazoo until one guest asked if they could try it out. SURE… HERE… TAKE IT AND SING A SONG! Uh… big mistake. Turns out the guest had a voice like you wouldn’t believe! Which is why I’m totally thinking twice before handing over my mic to anyone else. I know. But I hate competition so why even invite it. Meanwhile… the bottom line to all this??

GO BUY ONE OF THESE TOYS FOR ANYONE YOU LOVE. Oops. I mean one of these state of the art karaoke and/or recording enterprises. You will totally have the time of your life pretending you have record contracts with every music producer known to man. You want to be Aretha Franklin? No problem. You love Rod Stewart? Boom. You’re his back up singer. Country music? The blues? Doo Wop? IT DOESN’T MATTER. YOU’RE ALL OF THESE IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE! It’s totally amazing.

So… thank you Laura for giving me the chance to rock out any time my little heart desires. “You’re simply the best… better than all the rest”! I so wish Grandma could see me singing Engelbert Humperdinck’s RELEASE ME. She’d love it… it was totally her favorite!

Now… if only someone could give me that ass and waistline! But apparently I have to wait until my next life for that. Damnit. 


Monday, April 12, 2021


So I’ve been living in my house for 13 and a half years now. And, I’d like to be able to live here 13 and a half more. I love my home. I love my location. I love my neighborhood. And oh yeah… I particularly love that I have no mortgage payments. Yay me.

On the other hand, I did not love the fact that the time had come. It was finally time for me to take a look around and see I needed to definitely spruce the house up a bit, in honor of a spring cleaning type of deal. Except… I began late this past winter, but who’s counting. But, the time for some sprucing up was in fact here and thanks to Amazon, I’ve had the pleasure of spending plenty of bucks in doing so. Kind of. I decided to keep my budget as much on the down low as possible, but still… everything costs money, in the end, right? In the meantime…

I began with my bedroom, being I love my bed and even more… I love to sleep. Plus, beginning with that room was kind of easy. Back in January I hopped onto Amazon, and immediately ordered new curtains, new comforter, new table covering, new towels, new duvet cover, and everything else new that one would  possibly need in the way of fabric. I didn’t switch up colors however, given white is my all time favorite color so naturally, I just stayed with it. I know. Most people use spring cleaning as a way to take advantage of switching out colors for everything, but not me. I stayed with what I love best. Hence, things are all still white. I know… boring. But, I’m absolutely happy with all that I ordered so who cares what others do. Amazon is pretty happy with me also btw, since if it’s monetary profit they’re into. then they pretty much should be smiling by now. And I totally think they are. Then again… so am I.

I even ordered new outdoor patio chairs for the deck, online. I had no clue how they would feel once I sat in them, but I wasn’t even going for comfort as much as for a somewhat decent appearance. I know… nice hostess, right? Besides… as Billy Crystal taught us all decades ago… it’s always more important to look good than to feel good. Additionally, I put my kid right to work when he was here for a recent visit home. I had him paint the base of the deck dining table to freshen that up a bit. I also had him do plenty of other manly jobs around the house, which is also a bonus for having him around. Like getting up on a ladder and cleaning my ceiling fan blades for example. Oh yeah… he also got way up on the ladder and replaced the light bulbs in my bedroom tray ceiling. My list for him was made weeks before his arrival so it pretty much boiled down to… YAY CHILD LABOR. A major perk to parenting, btw.

So basically this all meant… I did whatever it was I COULD do. For everything else, I used my favorite 4 letter word. No, not that one, although it IS a favorite of mine. Instead, my other favorite 4 letter word: HIRE. Which only means I then moved right smack into the things I couldn’t do. Uh… like hanging new window treatments in my computer room let’s say and painting several rooms in the house. Case in point: I’ve got like at least a 15 foot ceiling in my family room thus in no time at all, I figured my standing on a little step stool to paint THAT would get me no where but fast. Enter: workmen. YAY PROFESSIONALS.

In fact, as we speak… I have the carpet/upholstery people here cleaning the sofa I’ve always hated, the recliners I so love, the dining room chairs which I’ve had for YEARS AND YEARS and lastly, the carpet in the other two bedrooms of the house. A few years ago I had new hardwood flooring installed in the master bedroom to match the rest of the house but I totally cheaped out when it came to the bedrooms in which I don’t sleep. NOTHING BUT THE BEST FOR ME! For others however? Uh… not so much. Talk about “let them eat cake”. Regardless…

I made no dramatic changes to the house at all. But I DID clean it all. Sort of. And I’m pretty happy with everything I did so far. Oops. I mean everything all the people I hired did. Big difference. Besides... as far as I know, not one single piece of my jewelry was stolen. A huge plus, right? Oh yeah. You know those stimulus checks we all received, btw? Doesn’t even come close to covering all of my spring cleaning costs I’ve incurred thus far. I’m so not complaining, however.


I don’t want to jinx myself, but any day now I am totally expecting my washer/dryer to die on me after 13 years. Already, a couple of years ago, I had to replace my ice dispenser as well as my dishwasher. Plus… the one burner on my glass stove top that I use almost ALL the time, is totally not operating correctly. I’ve perfected how to compensate for cooking on it however, but if YOU came in and tried to cook something… uh, good luck. You’ll burn your food in a second flat since that particular burner now likes one setting only: HIGH. In the meantime…

So far, I do have to say, I’m totally happy enough with the results of everything either I’ve done or had others do. I have been trying like hell by the way, to find outdoor cushions for the new chairs on the deck and apparently no where on the entire planet are there any that I like. Anything I’ve viewed online suck. So, as much as I don’t want to, guess who the new seamstress will be to make them herself. Don’t ask. I want bright, happy colors but apparently cushion suppliers around the world are into major drabby looking patterns and hues. Not only that… I am STUNNED at the cost these people are touting lately. Granted, THEIR finished product looks absolutely professional while mine will look only somewhat decent. Maybe. But hopefully, it  will do the trick, regardless. I guess time will tell. Oh yeah… speaking of time…

Care to guess how much time it is taking me to get everything BACK in place now that all the  workmen have completed their jobs? Think: way more than you’d imagine! No wonder. I’m pretty lazy. Plus… I had to move SO many items out of the way to begin with, so little by little… very little, actually… I am putting things back in place. I’m also throwing a lot of things out altogether, during this process. Besides, at my age, one totally can’t declutter enough, if you ask me. You should only SEE how many picture frames I’m ditching while on this quest. My thinking is: in a month’s time I should totally be back in tip top shape. Maybe.

Bottom line: Yay spring cleaning. I can only hope I’m finished by summer. Even by next winter will work.


Monday, March 29, 2021


My hat goes off to those with great bravery or great courage. Like those people who climb crazy ass high mountains just for the thrill of it all. Or go out alone in the desert or swamp for a week, where you just KNOW you’ll probably be dead by sunrise. Eaten by God only KNOWS what kinds of creatures. Let alone being shot by some hunter thinking you’re a nice sized bear. I even give credit to those who go on Space Mountain in Disney World, suggesting: YAY. WHAT FUN! LET’S GO ON A RIDE WHEREBY WE SCREAM THE HELL OUT OF OURSELVES, WHILE LIVING IN SHEER TERROR OF HEART THRUMPING THRILLS AND CHILLS IN THE HOPES WE BORDER ON A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE AND MAYBE EVEN HAVE A HEART ATTACK ALTOGETHER. TOTALLY LET'S DO IT! These people are nuts! Even conSIDering ziplining would put me into a state of panic. 

Holy shit. I would SOOO never do any of these activities even if you paid me zillions of bucks. Well. Wait. MAYbe for a zillion dollars I might, but even then, I HIGHLY doubt it.

Meanwhile, I am TRYing to think of something I HAVE done that was incredibly brave in my life and you know what? I CAN’T THINK OF ONE DAMN THING. Honestly. I like staying on the ground. I like sleeping in swanky hotels. I like safety over danger. And I like being a homebody for fun as opposed to embarking on a big “adventure”. I know. I’m a total loser. BUT… a very safe, secure and cautious one. I need extra anxiety like I need a hole in my head.

And then, one day recently, it hit me. You know what? I HAVE done something pretty courageous. You’ll never guess in a million years what it is. That picture above should give you a clue. Oh… you might think it has something to do with my touting that french fry, remembering it IS my all time favorite food. But that’s not it at all. BTW: SIDEBAR FOR A MINUTE, HERE.

That picture has a crazy story all onto itself. Turns out that a friend of mine has a daughter who is creating some sort of a pamphlet. I’ve mentioned this before? I can’t even remember. Maybe, but in any case, the daughter called my friend, needing photos of a happy senior citizen for her layout and bingo. My name came up. Now, if this shot isn’t one of me feeling absolutely happy and thrilled, then nothing is. Regardless, while the french fry DOES make me happy as hell... it has nothing to do with my courage.

Instead… ready for this?… what DOES depict my very own courage in this picture is actually: my HAIRCUT. Seriously. Walking around town with this pretty damn short hair is bravery, indeed!

Oh… you can mock me for my bravery all you want, but I am so telling you… VERY few people have the nerve to go so short, trust me. For in reality, I can totally tell you, this takes guts! I should know. I took the plunge, and to be very honest… I am thrilled I did. Going to this pixie kind of look is NOT for the faint of heart. But boy am I glad I did! 

Some people just get how fantastic very short hair can actually look on a woman. Well… IF the hair stylist knows HOW to cut great looking short hair. The person doing the cutting totally makes all the difference in the world between a disaster and a masterpiece. Down below I will show you some absolutely stunning Hollywood women who have gone very short and look INCREDIBLE, but for now… naturally… I’ll focus on me. And my courage for taking the plunge.

First of all… I had no choice, really.

For as it happens, I have always had very fine hair rather than beautiful, thick locks with a lot of bounce to it. Damnit. And… I never had a lot of those fine hairs, either. UH… THANKS GOD FOR GIVING ME NO WAISTLINE NOR THICK HAIR. In any case, I unfortunately, always had the odds against me in trying to have a really pretty hair style. But… I struggled nonetheless, and somehow was able to work with whatever I did have throughout the years, to look somewhat presentable. And oh yeah… aging and old lady meds didn’t help, either. The older I got, the thinner my hair became. Geez. Talk about getting the short end of the stick once again.

Anyway…about 6 years ago, I was pretty much forced to take a very big gamble and went with a pretty short hair style. Besides, as I said, I didn’t have that much choice. For nothing looks worse than stringy, fine hair trying to emulate a style that requires a beautiful thick mane like Farrah Fawcett, let’s say. So… I kind of knew what might work on me and what would not.  

I even remember being so excited that Prince George and I once had the exact same hair style when he was like 3 years old or something. Of course, even his hair was thicker than mine, but whatever. 

I was so impressed, I think I may have even posted it on Facebook. Yay! The eventual king of England was into copying me. What could be bad? Oh… and btw…

Not only is my hair thin, but it is also completely straight. Yet another delightful crappy look to throw into the mix, for I LOVE curly hair. And I even paid $100 a month for perms way back, when I was in my 40s. I WAS IN TOTAL HEAVEN, believe me. Did I look absolutely amazing with this long, curly hair? Uh… of course not. But I didn’t care. I still loved it. It was kind of like the Gloria Estevan look in the early 90s, maybe. Looking back on it today... it seems kind of freaky, but back then, I was living in Curly Hair Delight.

Okay. So I went from long hair in high school to long hair in my 50s but eventually after 65 I happened to see a picture of Charlize Theron. BOOM. I HAD AN EPHIFANY. I saw her with a REALLY short cut, and bingo. I ran to my hair dresser and said HERE. LET’S DO THIS CUT. Boom. 30 minutes later… I had that cut. Sort of.

And… believe it or not… it must look kind of okay on me for I am stopped all the time by strangers, telling me right smack out of the blue… OH, I LOVE YOUR HAIR! Especially since I let my natural hair color grow in about 6 years ago, maybe. Yes… most men want their women to have long, thick, voluminous hair but if that’s the case, then they don’t want me. For I totally could never deliver on that front. They also like thin, shapely figures which uh… again, I am unable to deliver. I won’t even get into how men also love young, firm bodies. That ship has SO sailed about 50 years ago. In the meantime…

To this day, when someone glowingly compliments me on my haircut, I always smile and thank them for I am pretty sure they are kindly trying to make me feel better about my probably having gone through treatment of some kind, whereby I must have lost my hair altogether, and now it’s just growing back. Thankfully, I never had hair loss caused from illness, thus these people should only know, this was a CHOSEN look; not a reactive look. Anyway…

While I know plenty of old ladies like myself who have short grey, white or silver hair, only one is as brave as I am to go REALLY short. Besides… I ‘m lazy. Which is no surprise to anyone who knows me.


All that prep is absolutely never going to happen ever again. Have any clue how much time is saved by my having short hair?? Think: PLENTY.

Instead… I now shower at night, using an upscale shampoo and boom. I’m done. I get dressed each morning, wet my short hair with my hands, let it dry a little, then run my fingers through it, pretending they are a comb and blow dryer all in one. Bingo. 30 seconds later… done! Talk about what you see is what you get. And yes… even my own kid, when he first saw me with very short hair, said WTF?? but not only has he gotten way used to it, it turns out he is totally no Vidal Sassoon, thus so much for his opinion. Besides, every once in a while he shaves his head altogether, so what the hell does he know?

All I can tell you is, if like me, you have no choice but to go short in the haircut department, making this courageous move does have it’s upside. Case in point:, it opens a WHOLE new world for earring possibilities. Nice big hoops, nice large dangling earrings or even a couple of large earring studs. For yes, I do have double holes in my ears, so I totally wear two pairs at once. They kind of frame your face with just a nice amount of interest. A 2.5 carat diamond stud in each ear for example totally fits the bill, if you ask me. Then, add a 2.5 inch gold hoop in each ear and boom. You’re off to the races.

Additionally, as I’ve mentioned before… you can’t ignore the 30 seconds it takes to wash and rinse your hair. Or, the next 30 it takes to dry and style your hair. Talk about wham, bam, thank you ma’am. Which brings me right smack back to my being so courageous, after all. Most women would NEVER consider this haircut option. Me? One look at Charlize and next thing you know, COUNT ME IN. One of these days I’ll have to see if there are any other brave things I’ve ever done, but I totally think I’ll draw a blank. For now however…

Get a load of these starlets who have also chosen to go for an updated, little boy, pixie haircut. They happen to look fantastic if you ask me. YAY BRAVERY. I dare you to do it, too.


Monday, March 22, 2021


Remember how, in a few posts back, I had mentioned I would make a might fine free lance editor, given I can spot grammatical mistakes in a flash? How I can catch spelling mistakes or refine sentence structure in a in heartbeat? And, how I should definitely get nicely rewarded in payment for this talent of mine? It’s true. I really WOULD make an excellent print editor. Well… guess what. Turns out I’m a total sham. And, I’m none too thrilled about it, either.

The craziest thing happened to me this evening. Shocking, almost. I can’t even believe it. Especially since I’ve been writing this blog for years and absolutely NO one… ever… has brought to my attention what a glaring, unacceptable mistake I’ve  been making all this time. I am STUNNED. Not so much over the fact no has ever alerted me about this crazy ass error, but more… the fact I even MADE this mistake in the first place. That I haven’t even caught it mySELF, is nuts. Indeed, I’m an embarrassment to all writers everywhere. Amateurs OR professionals. Talk about flunking Creative Writing 101.

So… I have this friend. We chit chat about all KINDS of things all the time. Naturally, my favorite topic being… that we are pretty much two of the brightest people we know. Why even lower ourselves to discuss weighty topics with others, when the two of us are far and beyond, above all others in the intelligence department. Yeah. Well… so much for our being so damn smart. Especially me. Apparently I am a major loser. Man… how easy the high and mighty fall.

As it happens, this friend of mine has a sister. A sister I am sorry to say, I have never yet met, given it’s hard for me to believe there are TWO of these people running around on the planet. If she is anything like my friend… and I almost want to say they possibly could be two peas in a pod… then I totally can’t wait to perhaps actually meet her in person one day. For from what I know about my friend, and from I’m told about the sister, I will so enjoy her company... laughing my fat ass off but plenty. And trust me… laughing is my third all time favorite thing to do in the whole wide world. You can almost guess my first and second choices. Eating french fries is one. You can figure out the other yourself. 

In any case, during a recent conversation between the friend and the sister, in spite of our thinking how fucking intelligent we are, it just so happens the sister is WAY more intelligent. Apparently SHE should be the editor of the written word. Why? Because in seconds flat of viewing this blog, she caught something neither my friend nor I ever did. And by the way… neither did any of you! Turns out…

During their conversation, my name came up, as did my blog. And apparently, the sister, being the astute woman she is, did indeed check out the blog only to discover… you sitting down?… that for about 15 years now, I’VE BEEN MISSPELLING PART OF THE TITLE ON MY BLOG HEADING!!

Are you kidding me??? This must be some sort of joke!! In alllll these years, I’ve never once caught it??? Oh man. Talk about humiliating! I SO have to give this woman a major prize for reading this one time and boom! She sees the mistake in a heartbeat! WTF???

Okay. So here’s the deal. Every time you, my reader, open my blog site, you see the blog title, first and foremost. And btw… the title is an IMPORTANT item, right? Some might even say THE most important item. It tells you exactly what you will be reading, so you get to decide for yourself: should I waste my time reading this crap from an old lady or shouldn’t I? Well… of course, if you ask me… I’d tell you ABSOLUTELY YOU SHOULD but more importantly, you might even want to find a way to get me published. But whatever. And besides, who ELSE is better at wasting your leisure reading time, anyway?? In any case….

For 15 years, I’ve had this title as my main introduction, only to NOW learn I HAVE ASTOUNDINGLY MADE A HORRIBLE, UNBELIEVABLY STUPID SPELLING ERROR. WHERE YOU ASK? NONE OTHER THAN… IN MY ALL IMPORTANT TITLE HEADER! And… it’s been like that for EVER. Omg. should throw me off the site imMEDiately for bringing them such shame. I would totally deserve it.

Alright, So about the heading. It reads: Living As Linda. That’s header number 1. With the next line, header number 2, reading: Who Is Now… OFFICICALLY… A Senior Citizen! I Know. Totally Astounding

Okay. That’s the way it has read for YEARS AND YEARS. Until recently, when my friend’s sister INstantly pointed out:


Pronounced: uh-fish-ik-a-lee??? An additional C??

Jesus. I can not TELL you how embarrassed I am! Not to mention how SHOCKED I am. What the hell could I have been THINKING all these years?? Well… basically, I WAS thinking what a brilliant woman I am but NOW? Now I’m thinking I’m totally an asshole. Granted… in spite of proofing my posts 3 times before I upload it, I STILL miss a zillion grammatical mistakes, but seriously. IN THE TITLE HEADING?? Omg. That is SO not a cool thing. 


Don’t ask. In the meantime…

Hopefully, by the time you read this post, the correction will surely have been made. IF I can go back into the layout pages and figure out HOW. Talk about a feat all onto itself. Seriously… there are plenty of times I would have LIKED to have switched up my page design, but I totally have no clue how to do it without completely screwing up the layout. Just my luck. I make the changes I want, then maybe decide to revert to the original design after all.. and then… boom. I have no idea whatsoever how to get back to the layout I had in the first place. Talk about not fixing what ain’t broke. Regardless…

How happy am I now that I know what a jerk I am, finally finding out my writing skills are down the tube? Uh… not very. BUT… that doesn’t, for one moment, keep me from thanking the sister of this friend for giving me a heads up! Honestly… were it not for her, I would so go to my grave thinking I’m still the most brilliant woman I know. Man. Am I ever living in a fool’s paradise.

Now… all I’ve got to do is one day, meet this astute sister! What prize I will bring to her, I have not yet a clue what it will be, but it SO has to be something special. For me, on the other hand… I apparently have to give mySELF... a dictionary. She obviously doesn’t need one. 

And oh yeah… for those of you out there who were thinking you would like to hire me as your editor… uh, you might want to look elsewhere. Unless you are into hiring someone who merely makes up words no one has ever heard of before. If such is the kase… am I ever your gell! 


Saturday, February 20, 2021


I try to be careful in terms of what I eat. Well… at least for the month leading up to my testing for sugar levels, that is. THAT month, I am VERY careful about my food intake given I am not into any doctors yelling at me for not maintaining good health. The two months prior to testing however, I pretty much eat whatever the hell I want, throwing all caution to the wind. I totally have this scam down to a science, btw. Two months, eat crap. One month eat salads and protein. Boom. Sugar testing numbers come out perfect. With that, I do have to say, I eat a lot of fruit and… some dairy.

Which is why the picture up above is PERFECT for my scam diet. Fruit, check. Dairy, check. YAY STRAWBERRY CHEESECAKE! I cannot even reMEMber the last I ate this sensually delicious treat. But believe me, I’ve recently made up for it, but plenty. It began a week ago, when I went to the grocery store because HALLELUJAH! my son was coming to spend several days with me. I totally wanted to stock up on all his favorites. Isn’t that what EVERY Mother is supposed to do? Bingo. I did.

While in the grocery store, given it was just before Valentine’s Day, there was this whole big display of all kinds of goodies for the holiday. Naturally all the baked goods were either red and white, or pink and white. However… there was only ONE item, and one item only, that caught my eye. THAT CHEESECAKE YOU SEE ABOVE. OMG... the strawberries were the size of tennis balls and the cheesecake was screaming my name, yelling: BUY ME. BUY ME. It needn’t have screamed however… I was on board to buy it in seconds flat.

And man… am I glad I did. It’s a total favorite of mine… and my son’s. So there was never a discussion in my mind whatsoever what I was serving for dessert that evening. Of course, he’s lucky he arrived when he did for you have NO idea what sort of restraint I had to use, to not dive right smack into the cheesecake just after mere hours of my bringing it home. Can you blame me? Just LOOK at it. Talk about something calling my name over and over again.

Okay. So basically… dinner was over and YIPPEE. I cut a small slice for him and then for myself. TO DIE FOR is all I can say about it’s taste. Hence… it was so worth the wait! The Gods of All Cheesecakes smiled down upon the both of us that night. And the days after, too.

For it goes without saying that everyday after that I slowly, deliberately, meticulously, began to eat away at this cake… one bite at time. I COULDN’T HELP IT! I was an addict in no time flat. And then, the next thing you know: two days later, my son opened the refrigerator and said: WHOA. YOU’VE  BEEN DOING SOME JOB ON THIS, ALRIGHT! Damn right I did. I told you... I WAS ADDICTED. And SOMEthing, I don’t know what, was taking over my body and made me have a bite for breakfast, a bite after dinner, a bite before bedtime, and a bite any damn time I felt like it.


For… on the morning my son was leaving… I was about to take one tiny bite just for good measure, and GUESS WHAT?? 


I was literally frozen with fright, if you must know the truth. And my kid must have recognized it IMMEDIATLY for in seconds flat, he bent down, started scraping all the cake back onto the plate, even asking me if he should throw out the huge strawberries that fell five inches away from the everything. HELL NO, DON’T THROW THEM OUT. This cake is going no where but right smack back onto that plate, as if nothing EVER happened at all. Including the rolling strawberries!

Don’t even fucking ask. It was a disaster! Yet not so much a disaster that I didn’t resurrect this prize of a cheesecake and made certain I had the chance to be sure every last bite of it could STILL get into my belly with no trouble at all. I was NOT going to let that cake die under any circumstances whatsoever. And… I didn’t.

I am happy to report that ever damn bite of the cheesecake, having been on the floor or not, eventually was eaten by piggy little me. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?? A grown woman eating cake from the floor?? AM I OUT OF MY MIND? Well… clearly, the answer is yes. After all, there are people STARVING in this world and I refused to waste one damn bit of it. Granted… it took another 3 days to polish off this fruit and dairy mix, BUT I DID IT! In record time, too. I so deserve gold medal. 

In the end btw... I can not TELL you how happy I was when this cheesecake was finally GONE! KAPUT! EATEN! FINISHED! Whew. My addiction was finally over, thank God. I could even once again, look in the mirror, feeling no more remorse whatsoever, over what a degenerate I obviously am. Meaning: my happiest day was when I bought the cake and then again, when I threw out the cake. I’m telling you… seriously… I was SICK OF LOOKING AT IT, ALREADY. Well… until the very last bite that I had left of it, anyway. 

So… a couple of lessons here: 1.) fruit and dairy are indeed excellent sources of nutrition 2.) disasters do in fact happen 3.) things also eventually get better 4.) old ladies with an otherwise high amount of dignity can in fact easily, in no time at all, become a low life… and a major disgusting gluttonous degenerate. Yay me!

I A O J  

Monday, February 1, 2021


I never really liked working outside of the home. I never even liked working INside the home. I am basically pretty much a lazy ass kind of woman. In fact, my favorite part of the work force is hiring people. More to the point... hiring people to work for ME.

I’ve pretty much perfected that deal, too. It all started when I was first married at the age of 23, living in a two bedroom apartment. I was a stay at home bride and my job was probably nothing more than joining others for going shopping and having lunch. Oh, I did the laundry, the grocery store, and the cooking, but I totally did not do toilets, vacuuming, and dusting. THAT I left for my housekeeper to do.

It wasn’t until I was about 25 that I began working outside the home. I had graduated college with a degree in teaching and I went for an interview in an upscale private school and bingo. I got the job teaching third and fourth graders. That job lasted about 20 years.

In my second year of teaching, I remember sitting on a bench during recess with Nina, a teacher who would immediately become one of my all time favorite BFF… and telling her that if every cent of my salary went to paying my househelp, I wouldn’t mind one damn bit. After all, I loved teaching these children, and I loved where I was working but more… I loved coming home to a house that was spic and span. A house I DIDN’T HAVE TO CLEAN, MYSELF.

If I remember correctly, Clara, my housekeeper at the time, came to clean twice a week. Which is kind of crazy now that I think of it, given there was only my husband and I living in this apartment… and probably the messiest part of our lifestyle was clearing the joints and ashes off the cocktail table in our little living room every evening. We had friends over almost every night for dinner and/or getting high, so actually that job wasn’t always as easy as you’d think. In any case…

After a couple of years as newlyweds, we moved into a brand new 5 bedroom home where naturally, we used only the master bedroom and bath. It had a beautiful pool and backed up to a wonderful canal that happened to lend itself nicely to growing LOTS AND LOTS of our own weed, but that’s a whole different story for another day. More importantly… Clara still came to clean twice a week. Uh… until my husband kind of stole her away after we had divorced. The piece of shit. 

Mattered not however since lickety split I found Claudia B. who was with me until forever. Even when I eventually had live in help for when the children came along. Marie was my first live in whose main job was to basically entertain the kids when I was too lazy to do so. She also cleaned up after dinner and babysat so my husband and I could go out with friends and have a jolly ole time whenever the mood struck. 

By this time, I was taking a break from teaching, btw. Eventually, I went back to the classroom, but I also eventually had Marie, Lorena, Luz, Lynn, Tisha, Delinda, Pat, and some other women whose names I can’t even remember, who were either my personal assistant or live in help with the kids. Of course Claudia B. was still around, so I was totally still able to hang out with my friends at the drop of a hat, if I wanted. Which all points to the fact that, as I said, my favorite part of the job force is: HIRING PEOPLE. People to help ME.

Now don’t get me wrong. I was a hands on kind of a Mother, a fantastic home manager, a wonderful wife and a great employer. Obviously however, I was also apparently a lady heavy into personal leisure. Who skillfully delegated responsibilities, I might add. Now is that so bad?? Uh… not really. I deliberately and meticulously oversaw each and every person who ever worked in my home. Even Teresa and Bonnie who work with me today. You know... now that I think of it… I’d probably be a perfect Human Resource Manager! I’m excellent at sizing up home employees. Anyway…

Given that if I HAD to join the nine to fivers at this point in my life, I’d first have to shoot myself. BUT there are some jobs I think I’d really love. Of course my favorite job is one I totally can’t discuss here, if you catch my drift… but it matters not. For there are a few that I actually can, so with that in mind:

One job I think I’d like of course… would be writing. Except I’d have to be pretty strict with my boss and let him and/or her know that I will only write what I want, in the manner I want, and only when I want. With absolutely no changes to my written word. THAT ought to impress them right off the bat, right?


I’d probably even like editing. For while I am the first to admit I make grammatical errors up the kazoo, I often can’t BELIEVE the misspellings or sentence misconstruction I see in all kinds of things I read! The big difference is, however: those folks are getting PAID to be professional. I’m merely killing time here at my home computer. Which kind of means: I can make as many errors as I want. But when professional writers have horrible sentence structure or can’t spell correctly and have borderline poor language skills, then trust me. I am pretty damn quick to pick up on writing mistakes 1-2-3. Well… except for when I’m doing my OWN writing. I know. It’s funny how that seems to play out. I can miss my mistake all the time. But YOUR mistake? Boom. I can spot it in a heartbeat.

Another job I think I would love is to go around the city and telling women: UH… TIME OUT. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING? HAVE YOU NO MIRROR? DO YOU NOT SEE YOUR HAIR CUT? OR OUTFIT? OR SHOES? OR MAKEUP?? Man, could I ever set them straight in 2 seconds flat. True… I don’t claim to be a stylist for Vogue in any way, but Jesus. I see women walking around all the time with no fashion sense at ALL.

In fact, I was talking to a friend the other night about people I know who are SO off base when it comes to fashion, that it’s mind boggling. DO YOU NOT CHECK YOURSELF BEFORE YOU WALK OUT THE DOOR? I mean, come on. Seriously. Having good taste absolutely does not cost a cent. Polish up your look SOMEhow, okay? Obviously, I would probably get punched in the face over and over, but the public at large would probably thank me profusely.

Your city needs a professional Fashion Police? Boom. Your search is over. I’m your man! And I would be pretty damn good, too. For instance… here’s a tip: every single woman should totally be wearing a beautiful gold, delicate ankle bracelet at all times. Unless of course… you never go for a pedicure and your feet look like some animal’s, prancing around in the wild all day. In which case, you have WAY bigger problems than getting a pedicure. Besides, men love women who are attentive to their personal grooming. And, yes… you’re welcome for this little tidbit of advice, btw.  

Another job I would love, is being a food tester. Not the kind that has to detect poisonous ingredients, mind you. I have no interest in culinary death. The kind I’m talking about has to do with determining whether or not a meal is fantastically outstanding. Now, THIS IS A JOB THAT IS TOTALLY UP MY ALLEY! Anything from fast food to lobster thermidor. Can you even imagine?


I’d also be just as dedicated to my work if I were needed to taste test hotdogs or cheeseburgers. Or pancakes and Belgian waffles. Or any meal you want! I’ll be Johnny on the spot, alright. I would never taste heart or brains, however. I’d totally have to put that on my application.

The last job I think I could happily handle would be is that of an assistant to a milliner. I love women’s hats. Granted, I would have no clue whatsoever how to make one, but I would certainly be thrilled to be the main assistant to Stephen Jones let’s say, a top hat designer in the world of haute couture. Actually… maybe I would be better as a hat model. 

My head is small, believe it or not, so I always have to shop in the little girl’s department when I need a hat to fit properly. And btw... I’ve never worn a baseball cap in my entire life, in case anyone is interested. That's not a hat, but I shan't get bogged down with that discussion now. In any case, we’ve all seen plenty of hats on women who go to the Kentucky Derby or Ascot in England, who look absolutely RIDICULOUS in the hats they choose. Talk about Halloween costumes. A way far different look than the one you see in the picture above. THAT hat is one right up there with those you'd call absolutely stunning. Put it on Audrey Hepburn and bingo. You've the #1 look ever. Anyway...

The flow of the lines of this hat is simply beautiful. The size of the brim is remarkable. Of course the color of the black is outstanding. Granted... the brim is being held down by the model but when it's not, it is a stunning shape. Too bad I can't see what it would like were the brim folded back from her face a bit, but it matters not. And... speaking of model. Did the photographer not pick THE most elegant look with the exact perfect color of red for her lips and nails?? Man. The color is sooo spot on for an astoundingly elegant look. Oh yeah... while the model has WAY too much Botox going on in her lower lip, the nail color is the exact one I normally wear on my birthday each year. And... in case you give a shit, I ALWAYS wear white a white outfit on my birthday given it's my favorite color. 

Were I lucky enough to own this hat, btw, I would totally practice with a strand of small pearls all around the band of the hat. Or maybe a 1.5 inched width ribbon to match the model's red. Even a diamond pin just a bit offset to the left might work. All I know is, this is a smashing look even on it's own.

One of my own favorite hats btw, is one my husband bought me years and years ago…  a big brimmed straw hat kind of like the one Hillary Clinton wore to her husband’s inauguration 1993. Except hers was made of a of deep blue velvet, but she does wear brimmed straw hats a lot. And speaking of Hillary…

Yes, brilliant. Yes, experienced. Yes, formidable. BUT HER FASHION SENSE? Omg… it’s HORRIBLE. Only when on the campaign trail, when she has a stylist on hand at all times does she ever look somewhat decent. When left on her own? Don’t even ask. You’ve seen her lately? Man, does she ever need me policing her wardrobe and makeup. Plus… her hair style is abominable. And always has been. 

Anyway… that sort of wraps up my choice of jobs. I’m into anything not too taxing. Anything not requiring a long work day. Anything that pays big bucks. And anything that lets ME take charge of all that’s going on. Thus.. if you happen to know of any openings meeting these requirements, totally let me know. I promise to deliver. 


Tuesday, January 26, 2021


Talk about it doesn’t take much to amuse me. But in this case… IT’S A BIG DEAL, IF EVER THERE WAS! I am so psyched about it and well I should be. Guess what happens on Friday.


I can’t even believe it! Especially since soooo many people I know have already gotten theirs. No wonder. They are 75. I’m only 72. BUT… YAY. The Health Dept. here lowered the age requirement and IMMEDIATLY I got on the phone and began calling the listed numbers for an appointment.

And calling. And calling. And calling. Don’t ask. The first day they were taking those under 75, I got on the phone and redialed the number over and over and over again. What a suprise: WE CAN’T TAKE YOUR CALL RIGHT NOW. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER. Oh, I tried alright.

I tried on Thursday. Then Friday. Then Saturday. Then I took Sunday off, thinking it was the Lord’s Day for many in the phone bank and after all, I totally wanted to be respectful. But on Monday morning… since I was already up, awaiting the arrival of Bonnie, my personal assistant… boom. I began calling lickety split at about 10:30 in the morning.

Trying to get through for an appointment btw… is not for the meek or docile personality. Rather, you had BETTER be ready to be tested for: ABILITY TO NOT BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT UNTIL SOMEONE ANSWERS THE PHONE. Luckily I passed such a test, for I called repeatedly for about a half hour and THEN IT HAPPENED. Hallef’inglujah! For…

You should have HEARD me when someone finally answered!!


Naturally, Amy chuckled a moment but she was just so happy to help me. I still couldn’t believe I got through on the phone lines! So… basically, once this Amy answered, in no time at all, I got my appointment and was smiling from ear to ear. THANK GOD FOR SMALL FAVORS is all I can say. I have GOT to send her a full array of cupcakes or SOMEthing! She so deserves it. Amy was so patient with all my questions, told me exactly what I needed to know, and was just so sweet during the entire call. Plus…

After we locked in MY Friday appointment… I then asked her uh… could I also make one for my sister and brother-in-law, too? WHY OF COURSE YOU CAN! Was she serious? It was that easy?? Man. Was I ever in heaven, dancing all over the place. I told Amy she SO deserved a raise! AND… get this…

Turns out… just as we were about to hang up… a thought occurred to me. Like a light bulb went off in my head. I had apparently asked from where she was working, and when she mentioned the Community Outreach Dept. of our local hospital, I said WAIT. OMG. IS THIS AMY SO AND SO?? To which she said YES! I THOUGHT I RECOGNIZED YOUR NAME!

Boom. This was the exact same Amy who was my very first bank officer when I moved here almost 20 years ago and who is simply the BEST. Adorable and bright and oh, so sweet. After having climbed up the ladder of the banking system for many years, Amy then moved on to our hospital, apparently heading up the community liaison department. What better places to know people? Your bank and your hospital, right?? Money and health are WAY up on my ladder of importance. Anyway…

By the time Bonnie arrived, I felt like I was floating on air, telling her how I gotten an appointment for my vaccine! The bill paying job we had before us suddenly became secondary to all my glee. All I needed to know was: I WASN’T GOING TO DIE, AFTERALL. Instead, I was going to be vaccinated and then pray if I ever DID contract Covid 19, at least I’ll suffer like hell in the hospital, but will probably be able to walk out weeks later to spend the rest of my life recuperating. At least I hope so, anyway.

Interestingly enough… I immediately texted my son, who is the lead Physician Assistant at an urgent care facility. He was so happy for me! And… he then called me that night SO RELIEVED I was getting the vaccine. HE of course, had gotten his a month ago given he is considered an essential front line worker.

But apparently when he learned I was going to finally be able to get MY vaccination, he was as thrilled as I was. In fact, because of his unusual concern and relief, I had to ask him:  ARE YOU HIGH? OR HAVE YOU BEEN DRINKING?? WHAT'S WITH ALL THE UNEASE? Seriously. I couldn’t help it. For while I know how much he loves me, I had just never HEARD such worry regarding ME in his voice ever before.  

Turns out… while he’s been dealing with Covid patients for 10 months now… he apparently became very affected by the recent spike in patient cases and the severity of said cases. And according to what he was seeing… he did NOT want me to suffer like so many people walking through his door. Awww… talk about a devoted, loving son! He apparently would be absolutely devastated were his Mother to kick the bucket from covid. Which only means: I totally need to send him a present. In the meantime…

He laid down a bunch of rules which he made me promise to follow until I got my vaccine and as it happens, I’ve been following all of them. Well… except the time I had to leave my house to get a haircut and then a manicure and pedicure. Other than that though, I have stayed put, quarantined in my house just like my son told me to, basically sitting on my fat ass, thinking about all things I should be doing while here at home. In any case…

I totally have to make a practice run btw, to be sure I know where the hell I need to go for this shot. Just my luck. I’m driving all over the place, panicking because I have no idea where the hell I am, afraid I’ll lose my time slot if I not in the right place at the right time. I’m way into: BE PREPARED. So doing a drive by is basically mandatory, in my book. 

All I can say is: I AM SO READY FOR THIS SHOT! Granted… shooting up is not normally my favorite activity, but in this case? Oh man. BRING IT ON. And as for the idiots who DON’T want to be vaccinated… don’t even talk to me. Or, read this blog anymore. I have no patience for people who are too dumb to protect themselves and others. More importantly to help protect ME.

The miracle of modern medicine is simply so wondrous that to imagine people would even think of bypassing this vaccine is just mind boggling to me. Not to mention they are total A-holes. Hear me now: GET VACCINATED. WEAR MASKS. AVOID CROWDS. SANITIZE. WASH YOUR HANDS. What? That is so hard to do?? 

And most importantly… Do not wait! GET YOUR VACCINATION AS SOON AS YOU POSSIBLY CAN. Our country will thank you. Besides… if it were up to me and you choose not to get your shot… then you absolutely don’t deserve medical help in any way whatsoever, should you God forbid, contract this virus. YAY HEALTH. #listentoanoldwiselady


Wednesday, January 20, 2021


Not that I WANT to… but I think I could probably survive were I to live in Russia. Besides, my body type probably resembles that of the hearty looking Russian peasant women so I would definitely fit in. More importantly however, I could probably be okay living there for one reason and one reason ONLY. Naturally, that reason… what a surprise… is because of their food!

Bear in mind… most Russian international foods I have never seen, let alone eaten. I don’t even know how to pronounce most of the dishes of Russia which totally means I have never ever cooked them. Nor have I ever eaten in a restaurant that features Russian food. There even ARE such places here? I have no clue. Uh… except the Russian Tea Room in NYC.

Now THERE’S a fantastic place to eat! The menu selections make my mouth water just reading the choices of entrees or appetizers or whatever. I’m not too sure about their desserts, though. On the other hand, if they have baked pastries with lots of dark chocolate in it, then I’m totally good to go. In the meantime…

I happen to love borscht. It’s a famous traditional food of Russia and is basically a soup made from red beets which could be served either hot or cold. I remember my Mother making it while I was growing up. I don’t think my brother or sister were too crazy about borscht, but my Dad and I loved it. It was always served cold, with delicious sour cream spooned into it and man, was it ever a delight for your taste buds. Besides… the pinkish color was a big draw for me. You go to Russia? Boom. You’ll eat PLENTY of borscht. Just forego the added sprig of dill if you ask me. 

Another thing you’ll eat plenty of… at least I know I would… is beef stroganoff. It’s a big deal in Russia and while many counties around the world have their own ways to prepare it, the Russian recipe is my favorite. In fact, the dish was apparently named after Count Stroganov who was totally from the upper class and supposedly, his French Chef created this for the Count, with strips of  sliced meat because the poor guy was getting old, thus his teeth were no longer up to snuff. I love eating this Russian dish and man. It's pretty easy to make. So up my alley.

To make beef stroganoff, you simply mix a good cut of meat, all sliced up and then browned, into a couple of cans of mushroom soup, sautéed onions and mushrooms and of course you add sour cream into the mix. Oh yeah… you throw in a bit of white wine and I’m so telling you, you’ll be in Russian heaven. THEN… you serve all this over wide noodles and wow. SO DAMN GOOD! Talk about a hearty meal. The flavors are incredible. I love this dish and in particular, I love the noodles! Thus… so far, my tummy is pretty happy in Russia. 

Of course the politics of the country would be a major draw back for me so I would totally need their food to counter balance my misery of living in the city, in a one bedroom apartment with all kinds of hidden bugs listening to my every conversation with a family of seven. Besides... living under a dictatorship is not my first choice for a fantastic life style. Or... 

I could maybe be living out in the country side, probably not even having indoor bathroom facilities, which could also make think twice about taking up residence in Russia. Not to mention I’d probably have to herd a team of oxen up the lanes and byways all day long. In BELOW FREEZING  TEMPERATURES no less. For six months of the year I might add. Yes, summers are probably about 45 degrees which tells me, now that I think about it: maybe I’d love the weather there, after all! Well… as long as I’m wearing my full length mink coat, that is. But I digress… 

It turns out I also love herring, caviar and vodka. MORE Russian staples. I’d have to cream the herring however, and I would totally need a great appetizer upon which I’d put the caviar. I'd also need a great tasting juice to mix into the vodka so I'm not flat on my ass within minutes. Which makes me wonder if peasants have easy access to these epicurean delights. 

I’m thinking that when you’re living in Siberia let's say, money is pretty tight. Uh oh. I am already beginning to smell complications for my gourmet tastes. But... people DO choose to live in Siberia in spite of the rough and tough life style it offers. It's kind of amazing when you think about it. HI HONEY. I WAS THINKING WE MIGHT CONSIDER MOVING TO HARSHEST PLACE ON EARTH TO BUY A HOUSE AND RAISE THE KIDS. THE BEARS ALWAYS ROAMING THE STREETS CAN'T BE THAT MUCH OF A PROBLEM, RIGHT?? Can you even imagine? The up side, I suspect, is that at least you'll always have nice, rosy cheeks! Probably streaked by bear claws, I bet. But whatever. Anyway…

The REAL reason I think I could gastronomically survive in Russia is… ready for this??… the fact that one of all time favorite foods is POTATOES! The country is a HUGE producer of potatoes and I have yet to meet a potato that I haven’t loved. Just put one over a simple fire pit and cook it plain and bingo. I’m going to enjoy it like no tomorrow. A little butter or sour cream can't hurt, either. Russians boil potatoes. Or they fry them. Or they bake them. Or they even roast them. They do ALL SORTS of preparations for potatoes. Man. Sautee' some in a pan with onions and mushrooms and yowzers. You've got a meal fit for a king. And I would consume any of these preparations HAPPILY! Even if they were the main entrée, too. Which is why you see the picture above.

Turns out, this was my dinner the other night. And frankly… I loved this meal! Apparently I bought a bag of Russet Red potatoes recently and next thing I know… I had WAY too many. Hence my meal of potatoes only. Which I would have also done, if need be, with the Yukon Gold variety as well. These two types are by far the most delicious tasting potatoes ever AND can be used to make anything you want with them. The interiors are soft and fluffy tasting, cook quickly, and make one of the best comfort side dishes ever. Of course my meal this particular time was not a side dish. It was THE dish. And basically, I had no complaints whatsoever.

Which is why I decided I could probably survive pretty well in Russia. Even as a peasant woman although don’t get me wrong. I’d still love to be one of the elite, but if for some reason I wasn’t… I would still find a way to remain a Potato Cuisine Chubbette which only means: I'd fit right in with the other stocky looking women, owning an entire wardrobe of colorful babushkas. I’m just blessed that way, I guess. 

I do have to admit however, there ARE some STUNNING looking women in Russia who often become hot, sexy models. Plus... let's not forget the many mail order brides that probably find then themselves immigrating to developed countries, to men who wind up not being at all what they had bargained for. So not a good move, unfortunately.

In any case…. my meal of potatoes was delicious. I cooked them with a bit of olive oil and spiced them with salt, garlic powder and seasoning and was pretty damn happy with the outcome. I only ate about an eighth of this meal, but it also made for an excellent snack later in the evening. Kind of like: who needs popcorn? You’ve got potato bites, instead! Which I totally assume lots and lots of Russians enjoy daily.

Oh yeah… I almost forgot. Russian blintzes are spectacular, also! Yet with all this said... I am so staying right smack where I am. I'll forget about living in Russia and instead I'll merely cook my favorite Russian dishes right here in my convenient, comfortable kitchen. After all... my grandparents weren't all that crazy about the shtetls and pogroms. 

THAT is a whole other story for another day.