MUSICAL HEAVEN

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 started pounding.

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 enough...

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

Oh. 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 say...

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.   

IT'S ALL ABOUT ME

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 details.

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 this...

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.

SPEAKING OF HOTELS...

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 merit. 


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. 

MR. LAS VEGAS

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. 

RETIRED FOR THE SEASON

What can I say. All good things must come to an end. Damnit. 

In 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 basically...

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. AMEN. 

I MUST BE PREGNANT

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. 

NOW 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. TOTALLY DELICIOUS.

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 be bad?

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.  

OKAY... SEE THIS SNOW??

Well, guess what. It's not snow. It's ICE. Solid, packed, slippery as hell ice. The kind where you can only move upon it if you're Tonya Harding, let's say. Or if you're wearing your own pair of ice skates with really really sharp blades. IT'S CRAZY. Yet last week this is exactly what my deck looked like, along with the entire rest of the city. And... alot of the city is STILL covered in it. So is my deck and lawn, albeit to a somewhat lesser degree.

The streets have certainly been plowed by now, but there is still plenty of ice up along side the curbs and often still on the lawns, parking lots, etc. On my deck, I still have so much of the ice that I haven't been able to walk upon it for a week. Okay. So again... guess what.

As we speak it's now SNOW that is now coming down! It began about an hour ago. So basically the snow is now falling upon the already packed ice. No big deal, one might think. Except... yet again... guess what. WE ARE EXPECTING 8 INCHES OF SNOW to fall. Eeeeks. Can you even imagine??

Granted... I am a far cry from Boston, thank God, but still. I can't beLIEVE what I will wake up to tomorrow, given the snow is supposed to fall for the next 7 hours. Man oh man. This is wayyy nuts.

Last week, we all spent the first full day of the ice storm inside. By the day after that... we all went stir crazy but FAST. I thought I'd shoot myself. Luckily a whole bunch of us were able to get out of our driveways (bless you, James for shoveling and salting my driveway within mere hours after the event) hooking up for at least one meal. No easy feat mind you, given we had to be VERY careful of black ice. However... going stir crazy makes you do crazy ass things. So basically for three hours each day for the next four days, we all met, ate either brunch or lunch, and then all headed home while the below freezing temps pretty much kept the frozen ice in place. By Friday, we met up at the ice cream place since we totally needed a Sundae for comfort food! Don't ask. Oh yeah... the nighttime temps were in the low single digits. Whatever.

Anyway... luckily I always had power, always had heat and of course, always had a stocked refrigerator filled with plenty of goodies. Which may not necessarily be the same for this snow deal, given it will be heavy, wet snow which kinda means power lines and trees could become totally weighted. Which is why I PRAY my generator kicks in should power outages become a problem. The upside of all this is that I was able to get some incredibly beautiful pictures, which when blown up are stunning shots of winter. Some of them are shown below. Pre snow fall, mind you.


I can't wait to shoot more tomorrow which could wind up being the only activity available to me while I await James to come yet again, to shovel me out. Well wait. I also have my computer. I have my Kindle. I have my iPad. I have my cell phone. And as long as my satellite dish doesn't get weighed down, I also have my TV. So I'm thinking I'll have plenty to keep my busy the first 24 hours. It's the NEXT 24 that worries me. Uh... I don't do well with cabin fever. In the meantime, get a load of some of these picts. All ice!

AHHH... THE DAY OF LOVE

I have to admit... I totally love Valentine's Day. To me, it's a day to celebrate love. Or... at the very least... like. I consider myself pretty lucky given I have had more than my fair share of people who have loved me and more importantly, I have happily loved them in return. And I'm not talking about kinfolk love, either. I am a sucker for romance thus I am referring to the kind of love where you swoon over someone who absolutely makes your heart flutter. The sort of love where you enjoy being with that one person more than anyone else on the planet. Also where you get to enjoy kisses that make you go weak in the knees and yes, probably offers up great sex, too. Basically... someone who just out and out knocks your socks off.

I also adore love stories. Love movies. Love songs. Even love poems. I was but in high school when I first read HOW DO I LOVE THEE? LET ME COUNT THE WAYS. Now THERE is a love poem, if ever I heard one. Thank you Elizabeth Barrett Browning for giving a young school girl a mighty lovely romantic fantasy to enjoy for the rest of her life. In the meantime...

I also love surprises. Happy ones, that is. The kind I got yesterday, actually. First of all, I got to Skype with my kid for about a half hour. That always makes me smile. Then I headed out to a weekly brunch with the girls. Then I did errands before I headed home, only to find my alltime favorites waiting for me at my doorstep. 

One was a single pink rose nestled in baby's breath with a card signed: FROM YOUR SECRET ADMIRER. Naturally I pretty much knew who it was from, but even better... I got a DEElicious gift with yet another sweet message from altogether different admirer that was REALLY fantastic. A beautiful box of chocolate covered strawberries from SHARI'S BERRIES! I love her strawberries!! If you have not ever had them... order them for yourself NOW. Seriously... they are incredible. Oh yeah... they arrived about noon let's say and by midnight last night, I had downed them ALL. What can I say? I love fruit. 

Anyway... so indeed. It turned out to be a wonderful day of romance. Flowers and chocolate. Who could ask for more? Well... wait. Speaking of more.... 

YIPPEE. TODAY I WENT TO SEE 50 SHADES OF GREY!! Granted, I prepared myself for it being a crapola sort of movie, but I DID read the entire trilogy so I HAD to see how all this played out in the movie. Guess what? It was totally excellent crap! Of course my being the idiot that I am, I was SHOCKED to see how soon the story ended. No wonder. The other two books in the trilogy will come out at a LATER date. Duh. I can't believe what I jerk I was to imagine the enTIRE story would be covered in this one film. Doesn't matter though since...


This turned out to be a perfectly fine Valentine's weekend. I hope EVERYone got to enjoy some bit of sweetness from someone they enjoy. Afterall, love is what makes the world go round, right? Oh... in closing, get a load of this, btw. Oh man. This so can't be good. Case in point: check out the lows on Wednesday and Thursday nights. EEKS.

LINDA - B.A. FROM USF

Earlier today I was in the car and as always, I was listening to my alltime favorite: Howard Stern. I love his radio show. I even pay for it and lots of other channels via Sirrius satellite. In particular, I love his interviews. They are by far, the alltime best. Actually, Al Michaels calls Howard the best interviewer in the country, but whatever. Plus... Howard is so on target about many many topics; not the least of which was his take today on mandatory vaccines for children. As in: what the hell is what's with these parents who haven't weighed the lesser of two evils and figured out vaccines saves childrens' lives. Uh... about that polio shot we all had as youngsters? Kinda think that maybe it helped to totally reduce the disease in millions of kids?? Smallpox sound familiar? But whatever. In the meantime...

What I really loved today was when Howard was talking about the Super Bowl players. And how, for whatever reason, when announced and/or questioned by reporters, they not only state their names, but also,  their college ID's. In other words: to which college they went. Sorta like: Linda... University of South Florida. Howard went on and on about this topic until finally, he decided he wanted his staff (and callers) to ALSO do the same. As in: Howard Stern... Boston University. (graduated Summa Cum Laude in Communications, btw) All I can tell you is that the conversation immediately became hilarious. Oh yeah...

Howard also suggested that in addition... what the pro football players should REALLY be asked to do, is recite the multiplication tables up to 12. This had me roaring, needless to say. Or if not that, then maybe just say their name and include: convicted or not convicted. I was totally laughing right smack out loud by now. Talk about the truth often being said in jest, right? He also felt that maybe you could even throw in a number referring to how many times you've been laid. I just totally couldn't help but laugh. Anyway...

Howard eventually decided to have several of his staff members come into the studio; staff who btw, any fan such as myself would know in a flash. They were to announce themselves stating their names and the college they attended. Things got to be really hilarious by now... especially because those people stated their name and the college they went to, alright. But... SEVeral sorta, kinda forgot to ALso mention that they never actually GRADuated from the school! Total cheating, if you ask me. And btw, this is exactly what kills me on Facebook, let's say. Attending college and graduating from college are way two different things altogether.

Particularly in football, which often could be soooo misleading. Case in point: Ok, so the player graduated college. BUT graduating with a 1.8 GPA is not at ALL what I'd call walking away with a fantastic, comprehensive sort of education, let alone never graduating in the first place. I mean... seriously. A+ in sports is one thing. D+ in Basic Studies is bullshit. Just saying. Besides, don't even get me started on the grasp of the English language and/or grammar of football players. 

More importantly... sorry Charlie. It doesn't really count if you merely atTENDed school. I mean... the whole point is to get finished with school. As in: a diploma. Hell... I'll be happy to attend one class at Harvard and boom. Where'd you go to school, Linda? Harvard University. REALLY? YOU WENT TO HARVARD? WHY... YES. YES, I DID. OH... GRADUATE? UH... WELL, UH... ACTUALLY, NO. Which of course is what I should have anted up in the first place. Otherwise... completely misleading, right? Seriously... this is what I call: withholding information. MAJOR information.

Which is why the show today was so damn amusing. You should have HEARD what the staff was saying about their education. Or in some cases, not saying. I loved when some had to backtrack but plenty in their educational claims. OH. I SEE WHAT YOU MEAN NOW. IN THAT CASE, THEN I ONLY HAVE A CERTIFICATE OF COMPLETION FROM THE LOCAL TECHNICAL SCHOOL.   


All I can tell you is that like everyday, I had a simply delightful ride home listening to all this crapola. Which reminds me... today was a major day of energy and accomplishment. For some unbelievable reason, all of sudden I woke up with the energy of a 35 year old! Which is good since amongst other things, I had 4 different returns to do at 4 different stores and YIPPEE YIPPEE. Got them all done in about an hour and a half. I totally deserve a prize which maybe in the end I did get, since I probably made a quick $250. I may hate doing errands, but man do I ever love making money while doing so.   

WHAT? ME SUNBATHE?

I've read MAD Magazine for years and years. Not recently mind you, but I do remember reading many of the issues that my brother had back in the 50s and 60s. They were pretty hilarious, I must say. I never had a favorite column or anything, given my magazine of choice back then was probably more along the lines of Seventeen, Glamour or Cosmo. But MAD was an excellent way to veg out and giggle plenty. Then... for years and years, I never again picked up the mag.

Until that is, when my kid was a pre-teen, when he too began getting into MAD. Thus in late 80s and most of the 90s he began creating his own collection... which I still have somewhere in the garage, I think. The covers of these magazine were often so damn clever and funny that you just had to check out the entire issue to see what else was going on between all the pages. Oh man... the satires were incredible. And pretty edgy to say the least. What must be going on now, with all the terrorist activities, I shudder to think.

However... the covers totally win above all else, if you ask me. No wonder. Just take a look at the pict up above. I mean seriously. Is that not funny or what?? Who else but Alfred would sit on the beach beneath a thunder cloud with his electric guitar hooked up to a kite?? With the electrical cord wrapped around his toe, no less. Talk about just waiting for a disaster to happen. I saw this shot and simply laughed right out loud. Or... check out this cover:

Brilliant, right?? Like who even thinks of this?? Well paid writers, I guess but still. To have such a comical mind blows me away. I especially love the Soup Nazi down in the right hand corner since I actually TOOK my kid to the Soup Nazi when in Manhattan for his 15th birthday. And btw... let me just tell you... THE BEST SOUP I EVER TASTED! Plus... the way the episode was portrayed on Seinfeld was exACTly the way the whole process operated. See? You have a daughter, you have to get into Esmeralda and Cinderella. You have a son, you have to get into MAD, Game Boys and rockets.

All I know is that when you have some down time and want to laugh right out loud, Google Mad Magazine covers. It'll be a major hoot. Or maybe it's just me. Besides... I have a very keen sense of humor and therefore adore laughing. Maybe that's because when I was growing up, I always remember lots of music being played in the house and lots of humor being shared, too. Both on LP albums, I might add. Plus... my parents loved sharing great jokes so basically... there were lots of chuckles going on.

When I had a family of my own, we also heard lots of music. And roared at major sitcoms of the day. MTV was big back in the day, so that made it totally easy to hear music all the time. Sitcoms had become pretty sophisticated too, all the way from ALL IN THE FAMILY to THE SIMPSONS to SEINFELD and everything in between. And... everything in between included MAD Magazine. Oh yeah... and our local shock jock, plus Howard Stern. Whom to this day my son and I listen to each and every day. Howard by the way, is THE interviewer of all times. His really tasteless humor from the days of terrestrial radio is long gone and in it's place, on satellite radio, are some the best interviews I've ever heard. With major players in all arenas of pop culture. Anyway...


If you want keep abreast of some really creative laughs, check out MAD. If nothing else, check out it's covers. If you can't find some great fodder for a big belly laugh then all I can say is: uh... you're just not trying. What? Me Lie??     

FASHION SHOWS

Grabbing a front row seat at a fashion show is a really big deal. And you basically don't really get to grab it yourself. Totally no savsies going on here. Instead, you are pretty much told where you'll sitting thus you have so got to be hot shit to be seated up front. REALLY hot shit. Actually... celebrities are often seated in the middle front so that photographers can get some really great money shots. Like maybe three for the price of one if you catch my drift.

Anna Wintour btw, definitely gets the front row, but she often likes sitting near the end of the row just so she can check out the exit of each model. But trust me... Anna gets to be whereEVER she wants given she is a major player in fashion. Thanks to Vogue. The entire concept of fashion show seating is a pretty interesting topic, actually. Although were I ever invited to Fashion Week in New York or Paris... boom. Give me the last row if you want. Just give me a seat!

And... the shows themselves can be major productions. High priced models, often spectacular music, up to the minute designs, etc. etc. My favorite part btw, is the end of the shows when all the models prance one last time along the runway followed by the designer himself. Totally exciting.

In the meantime... ever hear of men's clothing designer, Rick Owens?? That's him in the pict up above. Oh man... now THERE is a show at which I wished I had been sitting. Not at all for Rick's fashions, mind you, but more for the ability to have been there when his latest male models brought well deserved gasps to the audience. You can't even beLIEVE what they got to see recently. Think: shocking. 

Case in point: here is a picture of one of his models coming down the catwalk wearing what I can only assume is a sportswear fashion item for men. 

Okay. So lots of these sort of looks were modeled. THEN... came time for the newest item: enter The Cloak. Wanna see what THAT looked like?? Sitting down?? Warning: if prudish, please don't continue.

Can you BELIEVE what you're seeing here?? Holy ba holy. YEP. IT'S THE PENIS CLOAK THAT YOU'RE SEEING HERE, MY FRIEND.  Maybe the one and only you'll ever see. Unless of course you're at the Playboy Mansion or in your bedroom or at a gay bar or just plain out of your mind. Can you imagine how I laughed right out loud with shock when I saw this today?? ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? All of a sudden Victoria's Secret's annual televised lingerie modeling event becomes G rated compared to THIS.

DISCLAIMER TO BLOGGER, BTW: Please don't yell at me for posting this shot. I sincerely believe I am not going against your Content Policy. I just like being able to keep my readers... ahem... abreast of my take on 1.) what's in the news and 2.) what adult fashion is today.  

I know. I know. My past few posts seem to have a theme going on here, but believe me. IT'S NOT ME. It's the news of the day!  Which only means are we ever obsessed with male nudity! Which is not an altogether bad thing, btw. Case in point: 

I'm way in favor of male frontal nudity in films. I'm done with the naked bodies... breasts in particular... of stunning actresses that you can almost count on viewing in almost any movie ever made lately. Who needs more breast shots, anyway? I've seen a zillion in real life. Truly... they're not really a big deal. But male nudity?? Whoa. We haven't even begun to scratch the surface, if you ask me. No pun intended.

Which must be why I get such a kick out seeing things like this. I just can't stop chuckling. Who the hell is actually going to be WEARING these cloaks, anyway? Geez... make these out of plastic and bingo. You've protection from the rain in a flash. Well... wait. Not comPLETE protection. But surely easy access for urinal needs. IT'S JUST CRAZY, I tell you. Just crazy.  


On the other hand... any sort of crazy that makes me laugh right smack out loud? Boom. I'm in sheer delight. All I can say is congratulations to Rick Owens. He has made, by far, the biggest splash on the runway that I've EVER heard or seen. As for his sales... God only knows. Need another look at his fashions, btw? Here. Check this out, too. Oh man. 

Literally. 

Oh yeah. Once again, WARNING. Do not view if you are in any way prudish. Also once again...

DISCLAIMER TO BLOGGER, BTW: Please don't yell at me for posting these shots. I sincerely believe I am not going against your Content Policy. I just like being able to keep my readers... ahem... abreast of my take on 1.) what's in the news and 2.) what adult fashion is today.

    
    

AN HEIRESS

I think about my parents every day of my life. I wave and say hello to them every time I pass by the cemetery in which they are buried. I totally wished they were still alive to see me now, although that would make them 94 years old and I don't care WHAT anyone says... 94 year olds are no picnic. For them or for their caretakers. I mean seriously... 94 gives a whole new meaning to: home bound. Maybe even room bound. Plus... 10 to 1 most don't really have their mental faculties anymore let alone the ability to care for themselves. Just my opinion, but whatever.

When my parents passed away it goes without saying that I was very very sad. Like I said... I'd kill for them to see me now. Anyway... my parents lived a basically charmed life. Yes, there were ups and downs for them but through it all, they were able to pretty much enjoy very good health, a very loving family and a large amount of creature comforts. Which to tell you the truth... meant that indeed... when they passed away, I was able to inherit some of those comforts for myself. Hence the reason a friend of mine once called me AN HEIRESS. Which totally makes me laugh. Remembering of course the ole saying: the truth is often said in jest.

However... the REAL HARD CORE HEIRESS' were those at the turn of the century let's say, when HUGE amounts of money were made by the Vanderbilts, the Astors, the Rockefellers, etc. etc. Now THOSE were family members who understood inheritances, alright. And, pretty much tax free if I remember correctly. Anyway...

I had seen a commercial for a TV series called THE MILLION DOLLAR AMERICAN PRINCESSES. Lickety split I knew exactly what this show was about. It was referring to what Edith Wharton wrote about in her book THE BUCCANEERS. They were the American young women of millionaires who basically paid for English husbands, and their titles, with very large sums of their father's monies. Kinda like cash for castles and/or estates. Exactly like Downtown Abbey where Lady Cora basically paid for her British home and hubby. A Match.com in the 1900's let's say. Anyway...

The prospect of this series sent my heart all aflutter. I couldn't WAIT to view these shows. TOTALLY up my alley. One glitch, however. One MAJOR glitch. I needed to have the Smithsonian Channel on my Direct TV programming package. 

Which uh... I didn't. Talk about a dagger in my heart. In order to withdraw it, I immediately called Direct TV and inquired how I could GET the channel. Some very nice guy named Steve helped me out. He helped me out so much in fact, that get THIS:

After checking a bunch of things, next thing I know Steve comes back on the line and basically tells me... UH. TELL YOU WHAT, LINDA. I'M GIVING YOU THE SMITHSONIAN CHANNEL PLUS 7 OTHER CHANNELS FOR FREE. FOR THE ENTIRE NEXT YEAR, TOO!!! What??? Are you kidding me? Really?? I heard this and right off the bat I say: TIME OUT. LET ME BE CLEAR. YOU'RE GIVING ME 8 CHANNELS FOR FREE FOR A YEAR?? Yes ma'am. I am.

HALLEFUCKINGLUJAH!! I was totally in my glory!! Steve has no clue how close he was to being offered special favors in the name of gratitude! I couldn't believe it. How could I have BEEN so lucky as to have had this good fortune?? Talk about inheriting, alright! And... if you think I was in my glory THEN... well then you should have seen me when actually watching the first show of the series. OMG. I SO thought I had died and gone to heaven. Everything I'd ever read on this topic was right smack there, before my very eyes. Thank you Smithsonian for giving me hours of sheer delight!

My favorite episode thus far has been the one about Consuelo Vanderbilt, daughter of the infamous Alva Vanderbilt. Alva knew from the day Consuelo was born that she was going to marry off her only daughter to major high society and thus groomed her accordingly. Then bingo. Consuelo turns 16 and they head on over to London to find a titled bachelor who wanted bucks. BIG bucks. Plus... Alva  would consider no gentleman below that of a Duke. HER daughter had to become a duchess, and nothing less. And guess what. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. 

Of course Consuelo and her Duke hated each other from the get go, but believe me. That mattered not one friggin' iota to Mother Alva. Don't ask. Seriously... reading about this branch of the Vanderbilt family is way interesting. At some point btw, mother and daughter do indeed become reconciled, all in the name of helping women in America and England claim the right to vote. 


As for me... alas, no. I never married a Duke. Damnit. I never lived in a castle nor on an Estate. But... thanks to my parents, I did enjoy some kind of inheritance and for that... I am as grateful as any mother of a married Duchess. Well, almost.  

NEED I SAY MORE??

Uh... given yesterday's post, I felt this might be an appropriate follow up. Or not. In the meantime... designer John Ford sure has alot of tongues wagging (no pun intended) over his latest piece of jewelry. As in: the necklace you see here. So you tell me. A cross or a penis? 

Which makes me wonder. Could this become the newest must have for Catholic priests? I don't mean to be sacrilegious or anything but seriously... given the news of the past few years, the priests DO seem to have a problem in this area. Just saying.

In the meantime, I totally would love to know who's buying this and for whom.

PLAY TIME

Oh man. Is this ever up my alley. Granted... my crazy alley. I just can't beLIEVE what's doing with this toy. As in: PLAY DOH. The kind of Play Doh we have all played with at one time or another. However... way back when, you can be SURE it wasn't the kind that's on the market today.

Today you're going to have to be way careful when playing with your kids. God only knows which way it might go. The kit I'm talking about is the one Hasbro brought out for Christmas last November. The phallic Hasbro toy, if you must know. So unsettling true, yet in my mind, oh so hilarious.

Apparently many a kid got the Play Doh Sweet Shoppe Cake Mountain kit this recent holiday season. What wasn't so good is that kit came with a tool... called the extruder... that is used to push out the Play Doh which helps to decorate the cake. Oh it pushes it out, alright. Right smack from an item that pretty much looks exactly like a penis. A kid sized dildo, if you will. Here... take a gander and see what YOU think:

I'M RIGHT, RIGHT?? I can not TELL you how much this makes me laugh. I can't even beGIN to imagine the parents who sat down Xmas morning ready to play with their child and lo and behold tried to RESTRAIN THEMSELVES FROM LAUGHING THEMSELVES RIGHT SMACK INTO OBLIVION.

Of course... most parents didn't laugh at all. Instead they gasped in horror. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I HAVE TO HELP MY CHILD PLAY WITH A PENIS?? Talk about a great segue into SEX ED, if you ask me. Were it me playing with a child using this tool I'd be on the FLOOR laughing my sweet little ass off, but plenty!

Which makes me wonder. When the designers of the toy brought this kit into the big Executive Board of Head Honchos for the demonstration meeting, did NO ONE say: Uh... about the dildo, there. You think that's going to fly?? You think we may get calls on that?? We need to rename Play Doh to Porn Doh?? 

Oh man. What were they THINKING?? Totally a meeting I wished I had attended. Way too many dick heads in THAT little gathering, if you ask me. No pun intended, btw.  

Of COURSE Hasbro would be getting calls from parents. FLIPPED FREAKIN' OUT PARENTS, TOO. I mean seriously. You just don't throw a toy penis into the mix and not expect SOME sort of backlash. Believe me. This sort of deal is absolutely what I needed to help bring me out of the sadness of the French terrorist troubles of late. Which is another story altogether. In the meantime however...

Thank you Hasbro for making a toy close to my heart. Cake designing. Thank you more though, for making a toy that had me on the floor LMAO. As for hiring, btw... please put ME on your design team and/or Exe. Brd. so that I can help you steer clear of inventory woes when all the toys are returned due to unwanted pornographic tools. I can SO cut your losses in half by merely spotting sex toy problems in a flash. Speaking of which...

Get a load of another ingenious way to enjoy Play Doh. Oh man. This artistically inspired guy did. Gross, yes. Hilarious, nonetheless.  hahahhahahhha

DON'T CALL MY HOUSE ...

Because basically I won't be able to answer. Geez. Talk about a pain in the ass. The craziest thing happened while I was on the phone today. Blah. Blah. Blah. I'm on the phone. I'm talking away. Boom. Out of nowhere the line goes dead. Which translates into: shoot me now, please.

Next thing I know, all of a sudden, the cordless phone to my main base... to which, btw, there are 4 more remote locations throughout the house... displays a sweet little message telling me to: CHECK PHONE LINES. Turns out ALL the phones give me that message. In the meantime... Okay. I'll bite. I check the phone line to the main base, being sure everything's connected correctly and sure enough. It is.

Which btw, it HAS to be, given a mere moment earlier, I was busy chit chatting on the phone. Thus, unless some mysterious ghost is in my home or in my cordless system, I can't figure out what the hell is going on. Unless of course, North Korea is pissed at me for downloading THE INTERVIEW last night from Direct TV. Ooops. Sorry Mr. Supreme Leader. I couldn't help it. It was only $5.99 but whatever.

Anyway... forget about him. Back to Mrs. Supreme Leader... ME. What really got me confused is that while the phone system is not working... the modem, connected to my phone line IS! How that can be, I just don't know UNLESS... it's the cordless system that's kaput and not my outside phone line at all. Trust me. My head is spinning from all this.

Okay. So first I call all the important people on my personal, can't live without contacting me, list to alert them: call me on my cell number only. Second, I decide to forget about the entire problem altogether for a long while since I was in no mood to handle this hassle until way later. Why ruin a perfectly fine evening worrying about bullshit, was my thinking. Third, I then unplugged all the phones in all the rooms and basically merrily went about my business. Until about an hour ago, that is.

That is when I decided to use my one land line phone to test the cordless troubles at hand. Were I to plug in the land line, and it worked, then bingo. I would know it's the phone system that's broken, not the outside phone line. Minor problem however. Just where the fuck IS my land line phone?? I'VE CHECKED EVERYWHERE AND HAVE NO F'ING CLUE WHERE IT COULD BE. I'M READY TO SLIT MY WRISTS.

However, instead of doing that just yet... fourth, I decided to finally break down and using my cell phone, I actually called AT&T to have THEM test my line. Ooops. Can't be done at this hour. SOOOOO then.... some automated message comes on saying: THANKS FOR REPORTING YOUR PROBLEM. WE'VE SCHEDULED YOUR REPAIR TO BE DONE ON NEXT WEDNESDAY.

What??????????? They want me to wait five days for this repair??? ARE THEY NUTS??????

So fifth I immediately call AT&T back to get a human to tell them: UH... PROBLEM HERE. I CAN'T WAIT FIVE DAYS. WE NEED TO REWORK THIS REPAIR MAN VISIT LICKETY SPLIT. Which means tomorrow morning I will supposedly get a call from him Mr. Repair Guy sometime before ten. Yeah, right. Like that's ever going to happen. 

Which also means... I then asked for the number to call so that at one minute after ten I can call yet again to find out WHY THE HELL DIDN'T THE REPAIR GUY CALL ME YET? IT'S AFTER TEN. See? I like planning ahead for all my upcoming bitching. Or as Girl Scouts like to call it: being prepared.

Alright. So I get it. This is major crapola but I just have to wait to see how all this is going to pan out tomorrow. But truthfully? I sort of think I'm due to update my cordless system afterall which only means I'll be high tailing it to Best Buy sometime tomorrow to check out new phones. Damn. I totally don't want to be doing all this. Besides...

Buying new a phone doesn't even resolve my PRESENT problem. Which is: where IS my land line phone, anyway? The phone that I have for EXACTLY this sort of problem and/or emergency. I can't even believe what's going on here. All I know is... for someone as organized as I am... it appears I have no clue about anything anymore. 


Except... wait a minute. NEWS FLASH QUESTION: Do cordless phones need new batteries and I just don't know it?? On man... can you iMAGine?? Sorry... gotta go. Have to search out my stock of batteries IMMEDIATELY. Totally wish me luck because this being without a home phone set up will easily drive me nuts. And believe me... I'm halfway there as is.