I can't even tell you what the last two hours have been
like for me. Other than it's been sheer ecstasy. And yes... even withOUT doing the deed.
You won't even believe this.
I got all my chores done for the evening, prepping for the week
ahead. Doing laundry, doing some tailoring, showering, eating, filling in my
weekly calendar, etc. etc. Then... I sat down at the computer, going through my Bookmarks Manager and
I found a whole bunch of songs that I love on YouTube. Bingo. I just sat here,
listening to hordes of songs that simply devoured me.
I started out with IF YOU LEAVE by OMD. Then I moved into YOU
NEVER CRY LIKE A LOVER by the Eagles. Then I wandered into Elvis singing AMAZING
GRACE which naturally led me to Judy Collins singing the same song. Then
somehow I got to the Pointer Sisters singing JUMP, clicking on all kinds of different musical videos again and again, having THE time of my life. THEN somehow I moved right
into Bette Midler singing THE ROSE, doing a duet with my alltime favorite,
Wynonna Judd. It was then that the REAL pleasure began. Yes... I was loving
every second of all the songs I heard.... but when I got to Wynonna, my heart
Because I got to the video where Wynonna was singing THE song of
my heart, NO ONE ELSE ON EARTH: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=twN-gnrh4jA&list=RDtwN-gnrh4jA#t=13
I was nothing short of mesmerized. I stared at my screen, astounded at the power
of this voice I was hearing. I had the volume blasting and I was like THERE with
Wynonna, feeling exACTly what her words and performance were trying to invoke in me. I was
totally in my fucking GLORY. I swear to God. I watched this video at least 4
times in a row, until I got my absolute fill. But... as if THAT wasn't
The next thing I know boom! YouTube automatically begins playing
Wynonna singing my REAL alltime favorite... hands down... YOU'RE SIMPLY THE BEST. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h85XE04u33I
My. God. Soooo fucking great. I so thought I died and went to heaven. Which I
decided would be a fanTAStic way to go out... hearing these two songs as I'm taking my very last breath. DEAR GOD... PLEASE LET SOMEONE PLAY THESE TWO SONGS TO ME
OVER AND OVER WHEN I'M JUST ABOUT TO KICK THE BUCKET SO I CAN GO OUT IN ROUSING
BLISS. THANK YOU GOD. AMEN. In fact, they can begin playing it to me a day ahead. Anyway...
Now... don't get me wrong. NO one sings this song like Tina, but Wynonna's rendition is by far the
best second runner up. I can't even explain what all this does to my soul. All
I know is that as soon as I watched these two renditions, I had to watch
every OTHER rendition of someone singing Simply The Best, that I could possibly see on YouTube. Meaning that in the end,
I bet I heard SIMPLY THE BEST about 10 times straight in a row. Now I've got
I've had some really really wonderful evenings lately but you
can be SURE nothing has sparked me the way tonight did, merely sitting at the
computer, all by myself, listening to some of the best music on earth. It WAS
simply the best. My racing heart has hardly come back to normal, even yet. What
joy I had watching all these.
The funny thing is that not once did I watch Elton
John or Billy Joel which is pretty unusual. I always said that Elton and Tina
are my favorites and they pretty much are. EXCEPT... I also have to say that I'm
afraid Tina takes first place and Elton is second, but... Wynonna definitely shares
a position with each of them.
So basically, okay Downtown Abbey. F.Y. for having only one more
season left to go. On the other hand, however... on Sunday nights I'll totally be thrilled to
watch fantastic rock and roll videos on YouTube instead... and therefore only minimally miss you. In fact, I'll be thrilled to watch these videos ANY
night of the week. They take me to a musical place that thrills my stupid
ass musical soul beyond belief.
I know. I write a lot about me. On the other hand, given the
title of this blog, if you're not interested in learning about me, then why in the
hell are you reading this blog in the first place? For I promise... it
will serve you no good, whatsoever. Of course I can't imagine who WOULDN'T want
to read all about me, but to each his own. In the meantime...
I downloaded this great new app onto my iPad. I totally love it
because I can take any picture of myself and create a whole different look than
that in the photo. Trust me... I can spend hours playing with this sort of app.
You name the options, I've played around with it. Tonight I was watching the
news, playing around with the app and boom. I created two new pictures of
myself. I totally love them.
Considering I am on a new quest to replace the bullshit LeRoy
Neiman looking picture of me hanging in my family room, I'm thinking I've hit
upon something here. The old picture is maybe 3'x4' thus I can also blow up one
of these new creations as well and bingo. Replacement problem solved. Granted...
it sounds a bit vain but in the meantime every grand mansion I've ever seen has a
painting of the miss and/or mistress of the house hanging front and center. Enter: Me. True... I
don't live in a grand mansion, but why get bogged down with minor
I have always loved photography ever since I took a class at the
Museum of Art when I was about 28. Don't ask. Back then I took pictures of
anything and everything. I even won a couple of stupid awards. I learned how to
develop my photos in a darkroom, too. Then as cameras became way easier, I
eventually wound up adoring my point and shoot digital one. I carry mine in my
purse every day of my life, exactly as I do my wallet. I can't tell you how many
times I've seen something I wanted to capture, grabbed the camera from my purse,
pointed and whammo. I shot a snapshot.
In fact, I'm so loyal to my digital camera I almost never use my
smart phone to take pictures. They totally suck if you ask me. My iPad on the
other hand, does take pretty good pictures, I have to admit. Which is the camera
that was apparently used to take the original shot of these photos. The original
is up above.
Down below however, are the two I created while playing with my new
app. Aren't they great?? I mean seriously... had I paid a well known artist to
paint and/or sketch me, I would have laid out plenty of bucks. But for about
$2.99 I could do the job myself! I'm totally tickled pink. Oh... and get
The last picture here?? THIS is my favorite! It shows what I'll
look like when I'm like 80. I have no clue whether or not I'll even be
LIVing when in my 80s which make this even better. For then you can pretend I am in fact still kicking and know almost exactly what I look like! Sheer genius if you ask me.
In fact... I'll bet this app is what the police use to help the public find a
missing child, who hasn't been seen in 10 years, let's say. Talk
about artistic help for a major lead, right? Okay...
So if you wish, everyone can send email to me and let me know their choice for which
picture I should use in my family room. Of course I won't necessarily listen to
you, but what the hell. Advice, I don't really need. But on the other hand... opinions are good.
For the past three weeks, on Sunday nights, I have sat mesmerized at my television, watching THE most fantastic PBS series ever. Well...
not counting Downton Abbey maybe, or Selfridges or Call the Midwife. But I
will say this... even though I adore all of the above, none of those shows even
come close to how CLARIDGES makes me feel. While watching this, I swear to God... my heart pounds with
excitement and imagination for a full hour, not to mention with the sheer fantasy of
wanting to be back there once again.
For in fact, I have stayed at this London hotel... while on a
two month tour of Europe when I was 17 years old. The only glitch was, that back
then I had no clue whatsoever what total splendor was all around me. What a
fucking idiot I must have been. Ahhh... the innocence of youth. In the meantime,
watching this series makes my heart beat 140 times a minute, I'll bet. My mouth
waters at the stately magnificence of the hotel, let alone the service
one receives while there.
So I made a decision while watching the show tonight. I decided
that as soon as I get some sort of really horrible medical news that I've got a
really horrible, life threatening disease, no matter how long I have yet to
live... I'M BOOKING A ROOM IN CLARIDGES IMMEDIATELY FOR AT LEAST TWO WEEKS. No
matter the cost. Which might be monumental, but I don't even care. In fact, if
I just plain die there, I'd be totally thrilled to kick the bucket not only in
England, but certainly in this hotel. And... if I do live, then the memories
alone will help me to eventually go out with a delighted smile on my face.
Well unless I just say to hell with the flight to Heathrow
airport and use those monies instead, for booking a room at the Ritz Carlton in
New York, let's say. Or The Plaza. Or the Trump Hotel. Or ANY five star
hotel. Hell... I'll even be thrilled with the St. Regis Bal Harbour Resort in
Miami, which btw, has a minimum cost of $800 per night. My real mission
here, being not only palatial elegance but unequalled service as well. As in: being
treated like a Princess. Wait. Let's make that: Queen. Seriously... who needs Hospice with me at the very end when instead I can have a lavish room and sensational guest staff at my beside instead?
I can't even IMAGINE what it must be like to be waited on hand
and foot. To have hotel personnel servicing me, attending to my every wish and/or
desire. But while I can't imagine it, you can totally bet your sweet ass, I
certainly want to try. Trust me... I bet I take to all of it like a fish takes
to water. Which goes to show yet again, what an idiot I am given I have also stayed
at the other most elegant hotel in London: The Dorchester.
It was on another trip to Europe several years later, that I
stayed there. And again the sheer grandeur and refined service just flew over my
head. I HAD to have been impressed, I'm sure. But... I am also pretty sure my
impressiveness was way way below what it actually should have been. Both these
hotels deserved far more accolades than I have since spoken. It's like: EVERY
conversation I have had since those trips should include my raving about it
constantly. Yet alas... I don't even reMEMber the last time I've alluded to
these hotels. Yeah. Well guess what. That's all in the past my friend. Because
from now on...
I'm going to work these two hotels into whatever I speaking
about, no matter what! OH. YOU LOVE YOUR LONDON FOG? HMMM... THAT REMINDS ME OF
MY VISIT TO CLARIDGES AND THE DORCHESTER HOTEL IN LONDON. WAS MAYBE THE MOST
FANTASTIC EXPERIENCE I'VE EVER HAD. BLAH. BLAH. BLAH. That sort of thing.
Finally... these two hotels will get the late justice they so surely
Which only means: I'm kinda thinking that maybe I should soon
begin a quest of the finest hotels between me and New York immediately. Now THIS
is a project I could learn to love. Plus, THIS time I shall DEFintely be mindful
of all that is about me, soaking up every inch of indulgence and assistance with
delight and appreciation. Only the stupidity of being a young adult could have
kept me from doing so originally. All I can say is: fuck Marriot and Hilton. I
WANT WHITE GLOVE SERVICE AND PLENTY OF IT! If only.
Years and years ago I went to Las Vegas. Way before Seigfield
and Roy. Way before the Wynn Hotel. And way before the implosion of the Desert
Inn or the Sands. Turns out this was a city that was pretty much up my alley.
A lot of glamour. A lot of glitz. A lot of celebrities. And a lot of comfort. As in:
my hotel and room. I was at the MGM Grand, which at that time was THE place to
stay. Oh man... did I ever love what I felt to be the sheer opulence of this place. Not
to mention the food and amenities. This kind of hotel was then, and is now, just
the sort of luxury I so adore.
I don't remember a lot of what we did while there, but a few
things do stand out in my mind. I ate up the room service but good. No pun
intended. I loved the day trip we took to the local ski resort. The gambling was
fun too, however I didn't do a lot of it given I hate taking huge risks with throwing money around only to possibly lose it. And I totally loved the entertainment.
Which brings me to my reason for writing today.
I remember two shows that I particularly loved seeing while in
Las Vegas. One was Paul Anka. Both he and I were way younger then, so the two of
us looked pretty damn good at the time. His show was amazing and thankfully, he
sang every damn song to which I knew every word. Seriously. It was simply worth
every penny we spent on it.
I also remember going to see a show starring the one and only: Mr. Las
Vegas. Better known as:
I know. I decided I didn't even need to tell you his name since
I am hoping you'd have known who I meant right off the bat, the minute I
said Mr. Las Vegas. Without actually needing to say: Wayne Newton. Yeah, yeah,
yeah. I know. Even back then it was kinda weird being in the audience with a
huge amount of oldie goldie ladies drooling all over Wayne, but I guess we
figured what the hell. The entire world talked about his show, so when in Rome,
do as the Romans. Meaning: we went. We saw. We conquered.
And let me just tell you... the show was breath taking beyond
belief. Had it been Elton John, Tina Turner or Elvis Presley... all of whom
btw, have performed in Vegas, too... I couldn't have loved it more. It was so
damn electrifying, you can't imagine. In the meantime, I do have to say that
Wayne looked pretty much like his picture up there. Maybe 15 years older but
still, pretty much like that. Which brings me to what shocked the shit out me
yesterday. Have you SEEN this guy recently?? I am so telling you... were you
sitting next to him in an airplane, which of course you can't given he only
flies on his private jet, you would never ever recognize him. Seriously. You
wouldn't. How do I know this??
Because yesterday, when I saw what he looks like now, I had NO
CLUE WHATSOEVER who the hell the guy was. Ready to check him out in 2015??
Sitting down? Get a load of this:
Really?? This is you, Wayne? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? What the hell
did you DO to yourself, anyway?? You're a John Kerry wannabe?? Because really.
John is the only other guy I know who totally went overboard with his plastic
surgery. Well except Michael Jackson, I guess. But YOU, WAYNE, HAVE OUTDONE THEM
BY FAR. It's totally borderline FREAKY!! Whoa... even the eyebrows aren't even close to what they used to be. Okay. Look...
I know zillions of people who have had their eyes and/or faces
nipped and/or tucked. Myself included. BUT THIS?? Not a one of us have ever
turned into a completely different person like Wayne has. Jesus. It's as if I
had my own face lift but boom. I went in with my normal face and came out looking
like Marilyn Monroe or Catherine Deneuve. Holy f-ing smokes. Talk about no
resemblance to my original self whatsoever!
Which is why I just have to say... man oh man, Wayne. You have
gone WAY overboard and turned yourself into one hell of a bizarre looking guy. Why you look so damn happy in the after shot I can't even imagine. Plus... how much you paid for this transformation, I have no idea. But I do know this:
you so overpaid.
Either get your money back or sue the doctor. Just saying.
What can I say. All good things must come to an end. Damnit.
this case however, it's not something just plain good. It's simply something amazingly magnificent. Well wait...
to be really really accurate... it's a magnificent thing that is not necessarily
ending; it's merely RETIRING. Big difference. But
still... believe you me, I am soooo sad to see it go into hiding. In the meantime, just what IS it that's going away for a bit? Something
that I've worn almost every single day since last Thanksgiving.
IT IS MY MOST PRIZED POSSESSION! MY ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS AND OH
SO UTILITARIAN WINTER COAT WHICH HAS KEPT ME WARM FOR THE PAST FOUR MONTHS! AS IN: MY STUNNING FLOOR
LENGTH MINK COAT!
Oh... how I love this winter coat, I can't even tell you. AND...
if ever there was a winter when I needed it, THIS winter was it! SOOOO DAMN
COLD, IT WAS CRAZY. Days and days and days of temps, probably averaging just
about 32 degrees. Granted, many days/nights were way below that but some
days/nights were a little above that, too.
Actually I sort of made up a rule, btw. Below 45: Boom.
Definitely wearing it. Above 45: be careful about wearing
it, so I don't look like an idiot. Thankfully... I got to wear this pretty much
every day. Yippee. Yippee.
The best part of the coat is that it was totally gifted to me. I
can't beLIEVE how lucky I am! You feel nothing short of an empress
whenever wearing it. Just the sort of feeling I'm definitely into I might add. So... okay,
yes. Animals lovers may want to shoot me on the spot. Europeans may want to
spray paint the coat should they pass by me. The only trouble is: I DON'T GIVE A
SHIT. Afterall, it wasn't me who did the animal in. I merely got the... ahem...
spoils of the shoot, shall we say. And am I ever glad I did. Because
THIS IS BY FAR THE WARMEST WINTER COAT I'VE EVER WORN. Forget
about how luxurious you feel when you put it on. It totally does the job you
need it to do. IT KEEPS THE LITERALLY BONE CHILLING TEMPS FROM MAKING YOU FREEZE
TO DEATH. Which by the way is good, since I get cold but FAST in the winter. I
also get HEATED but fast in the summer, but alas, my days of wearing a two piece
bathing suit are way over. But, whatever.
In the meantime it is with deep appreciation to this coat that I
retire it until next winter. It did it's job for me like a f'ing pro. Let
alone being the most beautiful piece of outer wear I've ever owned. People
stopped me to admire the coat constantly when I was out and about although I do
believe it's the length that makes as much of an impact as the beauty of the
design and the fur. I sometimes almost felt I needed to apologize for wearing it
but I got over THAT crap lickety split. Especially whenever it was like 22
degrees outside. OH? YOU'RE COLD?? SO SORRY TO HEAR IT. NOT ME, THANKS. AM
FEELING PERFECTLY TOASTY IF I SAY SO MYSELF.
Anyway... thank you stunning mink coat for doing your job these
past few months. I adored every single second of wearing you. Well, except for
when I had to store it while in a restaurant or something. I would NEVER have
checked it given it's worth a pretty penny and there is no way I was going to
let it out of my sight and have some idiot traipsing away with it. I so look
forward to next December when we get to meet yet again. Until then, believe you
me... I'll take major good care of it, hanging it in one of my closets, til I
get to don it once again. With total pleasure I might add.
DEAR GOD. PLEASE
DON'T LET ME DIE ANY TIME SOON, SO THAT I GET TO ENJOY YET ANOTHER SEASON OF ADORING THIS
MAGNIFICIENT COAT. THANK YOU GOD. AND OH YEAH... THANK YOU DEANNA AND MARSHALL.
I swear to God... you'd think I was pregnant or something. I
have had such ridiculous cravings in the past year, you wouldn't believe it. Way
stronger than when I actually WAS pregnant. Way back then, I couldn't get enough
of Pillsbury white cake mix, white Idaho baked potatoes, and the infamous garlic shrimp at my alltime favorite Vietnamese restaurant.
This past year however, my cravings are way crazier. Not to mention, way pricier. About a year ago, I had had it with salmon and chicken and
went on a crazy ass streak of wanting nothing but beef... for about four months
straight no less. ANYthing beef. From thin sliced crappy salami to a scrumptious standing rib
roast. Then after that craze, I spent about another four months wanting nothing
but tilapia fish fillets. With an added addiction of frozen corn, I might add.
however, I can't seem to get enough of... tada... the big fat sea scallops that
I normally order only at fine restaurants. Like the kind I get at the country
club which could may well be the best scallops I ever tasted in the whole wide world.
Until that is... I learned how to make these delicious scallops MYSELF.
Just like they do! Bingo. I'm in scallop heaven. Thank you Stephanie, btw, for going to the kitchen to find out about the recipe.
So by now... I'm a bona fide sautéed scallop addict for SURE. My cravings are almost... but not quite... at the point of being satiated. No wonder. I no longer have to limit my intake to the five or six scallops each serving may give
me when I dine out. NOW, when making them at home, I can eat about 18 with
absolutely no problem whatsoever! Which basically means: even preparing them at
home, they are still costing at least $25 per meal.
It also means that after
each meal I am STUFFED TO THE FRIGGIN' GILLS. But I don't care. They are sooooo worth it.
AND... I've been making them at LEAST 3 times a week. Oh man. This is so outta
control, it's nuts. Oh yeah... I also love that whenever scallops are left over, I can then store them in the refrigerator and whammo. I can then pop several into my mouth any time day or night for a mighty tasty snack.
In fact, just tonight I made two pounds of scallops. Uh... yes,
I do have some leftover, but trust me... not all that much, and even those
aren't long for this world given they will probably make a perfectly
fine snack in about a half hour. Naturally, I figure my cholesterol is probably right smack
through the roof or something but I could care less. Scallops have mercury?? If
so, I don't care about that either. My priority here is definitely to: feed the
need. And my cravings have totally taken over the need.
By the way... tonight's meal was exceptionally excellent since I
decided to kick it up notch by deglazing the sauté pan with a mixture of white
wine and some mango preserves sauce I was given for Christmas. After the
deglazing and thickening, I then poured the mixture over the scallops. Don't even ask. I
thought I died and went to heaven. Next time I might even add some squeezed
lemon for a sweet/tart sort of taste. Which simply means: this recipe is SO on
my list of what to cook for my next dinner party for six. Which will totally
cost a zillion dollars, but who the heck is counting. The taste tonight was just
too damn outSTANDING. To hell with salmon from now on. And fish fillets. These
scallops surpass that bullshit EASILY.
Granted... whenever I make scallops for two of us let's say, I
have to also make salad and a veggie. Afterall, I haven't comPLETEly lost my
ability of being a good hostess. But if it's just for me alone, Boom. I bypass
those other fillers lickety split and make the entire meal just scallops. As in:
the first four can be my salad. The next four can my vegetable. The next two can
be my bread. And the last four can be my actual entree. All in all... what can
Well... I guess my addiction to scallops can be bad. But it so
doesn't matter. For the moment, this particular fixation is bringing me the
greatest delight, ever. Today I was even trying to figure out eeks... like how long
can this scallop deal possibly last?? I'm thinking a pretty long time, actually. But then the bigger question actually becomes: what will my NEXT obsessive craving
be? I've sort of already gone through the fish, fowl, and beef period. I've even
gone through the desserts phase. And I'm happily over the pre bedtime two navel
oranges a night stage. What's even LEFT??
Whatever it winds up being there is one thing I can
guarantee you. It will NEVER be as delicious as my scallops. Nor as expensive.
Well... maybe. Unless of course I find my addiction is due to pregnancy since I'll make billions,
given it would be an out and out miracle of all time.