MY PERSONAL PHOTOGRAPHER

How much do I love this picture of me? I can't even believe it... especially since SO many pictures of me totally suck. I think my biggest problem is that when I either look in the mirror or at a picture of myself, I am basically expecting and/or hoping to see Nicole Kidman's image staring back at me. Or maybe Gweneth Paltrow, even. Not only do I find these women to be nothing short of stunning but OMG... THOSE BODIES! I would kill for such looks.

In the meantime of course, I will never attain such standards of beauty so when I DO come across a picture of me that kinda resembles SOME sort of decency, I'm tickled pink. As with the picture of me up above. Granted it's nothing to rave about but what I like about it is that to me, it captures what I'm all about when I'm running around living my life. As in: happy to be spending some money. Happy to be wearing something nice and comfortable. Happy to know I didn't just quickly run out of the house looking major crappy, hoping I don't run into anyone.

On this particular day I was running around in Staples. Which is where I also ran into Harry... a friend of mine. He had just gotten a new camera and was thrilled to be able to grab a picture of me which btw, took three times before he had me centered correctly. Don't ask. Anyway, I stood there, smiled, and bingo. He snapped this shot. Then of course, he emailed the finished product to me later that day. I took one look at it and thought... WHOA. THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I SEE WHEN I LOOK INTO A MIRROR. Granted I'm not saying I'm THRILLED to be seeing this, but regardless... like it or not... I guess this is what I look like. Oh yeah... I suspect I'm smiling because I just found the exact sized Post-It Notes I was looking for.

In the meantime, I never leave the house without my own camera. Something Harry and I have in common, actually. I just never know what I'll see when I'm out and about and it would kill me if I saw something fantastic only to realize... Damnit. My camera's at home. Thus bingo. I always keep it in a side pocket of my purse. How else would I have been able to capture the shot of the horse drawn carriage that you normally only see Downtown, during evenings hours? On that particular night the carriage was traveling ON A RESIDENTIAL STREET THAT I TRAVEL ALL THE TIME! And... there were two love struck people in the carriage, too. I was stunned when I saw it about a month ago and I just HAD to take a picture of the event. Thinking I might even blog about it one day, btw. 


The funny thing is that almost no one uses a real camera anymore. They use their CELL PHONE instead! And it just kills me that some of the phones take pictures that are simply terrific. Not mine of course but whatever. Which is why I adore my digital camera. And basically never leave home without it.

On the other hand, I guess I COULD use my phone camera when in WalMart should I ever come across some of those beauties I happen to get in email. Seriously.... are those people GROSS or what? Frankly if you ask me... those people are just what you DON'T want to capture on film. Ever.  

WBF

Ever wonder why I look so damn fit? So damn trim? So damn muscular? Well while you... and just about everyone else I know... find these questions pretty damn comical, given I am SO not trim, muscular, etc., I do have to say that whatever the hell sort of health I AM in, it's pretty much thanks to Ansley. For she is the one who owns WHOLE BODY FITNESS and for the past couple of years, I've been going to her for my core training classes. Granted, I do have much BETTER core fitness than I ever did before I began, but man oh man. You should SEE some her students. They are FIERCE in their workouts and the more pain they can possibly endure... the happier they are.

I on the other hand am totally the worst student at the gym AND in my particular class but I don't even care. Everyone else feels pain and bingo. They work even harder to push their limits. Me? I feel the pain and merely say: Uh... thanks but no thanks. I think I'll pass on major aches and strain. I know. I'm such an asshole. But regardless...

As I was saying... my comical body toning is basically due to Ansley. Man is SHE ever one hell of a stunner. Plus... every muscle in her entire body is stoked to the hilt. It's enough to make you want to slit your wrists altogether. But whatever. In the meantime Ansley moved to a new location last April and we all totally love the new gym. Talk about ROOM. It's filled with all SORTS of training equipment and plenty of space for everyone to happily work out. And notice... I didn't say all sorts of machines. I said equipment. As in: items specifically made to make your BODY do all the work as opposed to steel mechanical contraptions doing the work out FOR you. Big difference for it's no easy feat, you can be sure. One hour of working out and plenty of times I need to come home and spend two hours recuperating.

Okay. So last Thursday I went to class and in this new roomy gym there now happens to be plenty of room for a workout clothing line of sorts. All kinds of stuff. Stuff that naturally I could never wear, but anyone else could.  And they actually do. I'm talking: skimpy! It turns out that over in the clothing section I recently happened to catch a glimpse of some Tshirts that were for sale. I took one look at them and whammo. I knew I had to buy one! WHAT A GREAT TAG LINE they had on the back. As in: 

LIVE SORE.

Is that fantastic for a gym or WHAT? For trust me... many a time I've left sore as hell! In fact, when I first started... I took Advil BEFORE I left the house just so I'd be in minimal pain AFTER I returned. Anyway, I just love when people come up with THE most clever thoughts or sayings and when I saw Live Sore I flipped. Talk about being able to identify. So that's the Tshirt in the picture up above. I know. Grey. Totally UGH and so not what I'd have chosen, which naturally would have been white. But no one asked me, so I rolled with the punches. 

Now mind you... normally I would NEVER wear a Tshirt. ESPECIALLY with some sort of bullshit written on it. It reminds me of what a 10 year old would wear. In fact, according to the Linda School of High Style NO woman with a grey root in her hair should ever don such a shirt style, but that's just me.

Hence my current dilemma: when to ever actually WEAR this Tshirt. I'm thinking maybe bedtime is the only option but even then I would never wear it. I like pretty or silky or at the very least calf length and 3/4 length sleeve. Likewise... I can't wear this shirt out in public given there is no shape whatsoever and besides, as I said... I'm no longer 10. I CAN wear it however with some minor modifications perhaps. Maybe. Thus just to sort of practice, I took the shirt and gave it my own sort of flair in the hopes maybe I can at least wear this to core training class. Once, anyway.

Creating this modification required my getting a scissor. And then... required cutting. As in: cutting out the sleeves and doing away with the crew neck in favor of a V neck. At least NOW maybe I can wear it over my leggings and shirt... kinda like a tunic top type look. Wanna see what I came up with?? Check this out:

       





Granted... it's not much better looking, I know. And, I still have some fine tuning yet to do on the shoulders but at least maybe I can now walk out my door and not look TOTALLY crappy. The key word here is: maybe. I still haven't worn it yet and don't know if ever I will. On the other hand... were I too ever see this in pale pink, a soft aqua, or even black I'd have a much better chance of wearing this in broad daylight.  


In closing let me just say other tag lines I also love are: CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?? Or: BECAUSE YOU'RE WORTH IT, which by the way IS my mantra. And oh yeah: WHAT HAPPENS IN VEGAS STAYS IN VEGAS. I must say by the way... one of the funniest tag lines I've ever heard was: Lick Me Til Ice Cream. LOLOL I still get a kick out that, even today. 

BLURRED LINES

Up. My. Alley. That's all I can tell you. I heard this song and totally fell in love with it immediately. I even went to YouTube and was able to log in to view the XXX Rated version which is pretty cool. Sexy to say the LEAST. Including Robin Thicke himself. But the girls?? OMG. Don't ask.

Like how lucky is Robin that the girls are doing this video with him almost totally nude. Talk about hot asses! IT'S CRIMINAL that women have an ass like this. I am sooooooo jealous it's unbelievable. In the meantime however... forget about the girls. Wait til you see Robin's BLUE EYES. To die for.

As for the song... I was pulling into my car dealership to have an oil change this afternoon, listening to Howard Stern on my satellite car radio. Howard had been interviewing Robin Thicke which I was pretty much enjoying but then WHOA. All of a sudden I heard Robin perform this song in Howard's studio and I went nuts. Mainly because I was now entangled in a major dilemma. LISTEN TO THE SONG FINISH OR... GET OUT OF THE CAR FOR THE SERVICE DEPT?? What's a girl to do?

Turns out what I did was: give my keys to the guy and then immediately grab my cell phone so I could get to YouTube to hear/watch the video. I was in sheer heaven practically dancing all over the place as Robin was singing. TALK ABOUT GOOD LOOKING. Plus... as I said, I love the song, too.

Now I don't know whether or not you have a YouTube account. If you do, you'll be able to view the sexed out version. If not, then listen to this version which has the lyrics for you. There is simply no way you can be happy and alive and NOT tap your toes to this tune.


Which is why I'm thinking that there should so be condos just for: Happening Senior Citizen Singles Only so we could all have parties galore and dance all night long while toking or drinking champagne and listening to songs like this. Let alone what could hopefully occur during the After Party if you catch my drift. Talk about FUN, right? On the other hand...

I can so promise you not ONE of the senior citizens, male or female, will ever have bodies like this. But that's okay. That's where mere gratitude comes in.  

HOLY SMOKES

I totally love this picture. Mainly because I have this crazy ass affinity for Smokey the Bear. And it apparently became heightened once I actually moved here to the Smoky Mountains. Where there are LOTS of forests. And where as you already know: only YOU can prevent forest fires.

One day years ago, I was online, saw this particular picture of Smokey and fell in love with it immediately. His expression just thrills me. Plus... if you've ever checked out other Smokeys throughout the years, you'll see there are zillions of different images of him. THIS image however is by far my favorite. So much so that when I saw it... I copied and pasted it into my imaging software, had it blown up and bingo. Had him framed to hang on my kitchen wall. I wished I could explain it but suffice it to say that for some reason he simply exemplifies everything wonderful about my having moved to Western NC.  

Okay. So Smokey has hung on my kitchen wall for years. Then... when I moved to my new house, naturally once again, I hung him in my new kitchen. I don't know. Maybe it's his eyes. His coloration. Who the hell knows. All I can tell you is that I smile every time I look at him. Anyway...

A few years ago, my kid was at home and together we took this label maker I have and we walked all throughout the house, pasting a label above every switch plate I have in every room. Most have double switches on the plates and some even three. It was kinda like: a little adventure my kid and I went on one afternoon to entertain ourselves. And... I was killing two birds with one stone given: as I walked around in all the rooms, I would say aloud what switch went to what feature, and my son would then print out the description so we could put the label right smack above each switch plate.

This way... I knew exactly what switch to press for what. As in: the ceiling fan vs. the ceiling lights. Or the doorway lights vs. the walkway lights. Or the outside deck lights vs. the outdoor flood lights. Etc. Etc. This entire process took about 45 mins. let's say and we had a pretty good time doing it. So much so that I'm thinking my son wasn't really yet ready to put the label maker away for... get a load of this... one day about three weeks later, I take a look at Smokey and lo and behold, next thing I know, I'm looking at THIS:

OMG. I INSTANTANEOUSLY BURST OUT LAUGHING. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. WHAT?? CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?? WHO THE HELL DID THAT?? Well actually, the culprit was pretty easy to figure out given I knew I didn't do it. Boom. It had to have been my son. I took one look at Smokey and completely thought this was the funniest thing I'd seen in a long time. Can you imagine?? Talk about sacrilegious, right?? Who the hell would ever want to dis such a sweet innocent looking little bear? Uh... apparently my kid does.


In the meantime, I got such a chuckle out of this that I've never changed a thing about the picture and just as you see it now, is the way it hangs in my house to this very day. And I still laugh every time I look at him. Which is crazy since you go into OTHER peoples' homes and find grand pieces of masterpiece artwork only to walk into MY house and find FUCK SMOKEY on my wall. Talk about a total switch up in the Fine Arts department. 

TONTO

I am far from a film critic. In fact... I often tell you my alltime favorite movies are those made for 17 year old teenage boys. Kinda raunchy. Plenty of nonsense. Major profanity. And usually hilarious. KNOCKED UP comes to mind. In fact ANYthing with Seth Rogen or Jonah Hill is a must see in my book. As is normally Vince Vaughan or Jon Favreau, too. I even liked the first HANGOVER, although the other two sorta sucked. WAY over the edge for an old lady like myself. I also love Melissa McCarthy who btw was outta control uproariously funny in THE HEAT with Sandra Bullock. Uh... as you can see... my standards for movie going are pretty minimal. My friends love the high brow stuff. I go for the crap.

What I don't go for is the high action powered testosterone stuff. Nor grizzly murder mysteries. And certainly not thrillers. So... when I went to see THE LONE RANGER I wasn't really sure what to expect. If fact, we only went as a sort of default movie given there wasn't anything else playing that caught my fancy. Besides... Johnny Depp. Need I say more? Man. Staring at him for a couple of hours is totally up my alley. So bingo... I saw the movie.

AND SO SHOULD YOU. It was simply great. I seriously loved every minute of it. And trust me... it was a LONG movie. When I walked out of the film I had the feeling that anyone growing up in the 50s SO had to see this if for nothing else, nostalgia sake. Speaking of nostalgia...

If you think for one minute this movie mimics what we all watched on Saturday mornings while growing up... get that thought out of your head but fast. Granted the main characters are somewhat reminiscent but that's about where it all ends in the similarity department. The film has way more comedy in it and all KINDS of action and/or special effects and a totally different story line. What DOES make you sit up and take notice however is when... finally... you hear the 1812 Overture and when you do, you want to jump up for joy and clap your hands all over the place. You feel like 10 years old once again. It's actually kinda cool.

I totally fell in love with Tonto's headdress, btw. I read recently that Depp apparently saw a painting by Kirby Sattler of an American Indian wearing something akin to the black crow he wears on screen. The portrait's entire look inspired him to recreate something along those lines and in my mind... it worked. He looks pretty much like the painting and there is no question he looked like a realistic Native American. I'm thinking the makeup artist deserves a raise.


I'm pretty glad I got to spend time with Tonto/Depp and maybe you should too. True... there will be no awards given to this film but as I said... if you grew up in the 50s with Sky King, Circus Boy, Superman, Rin Tin Tin, Andy Devine, etc. then you might want to check out The Lone Ranger. Talk about a great way to begin your Saturday mornings. Heigh Yooooooooooooooo Silver! And yes... the experts do in fact tell me: it's not Heigh Ho. It's YO. And no... not as in: Yo Mama.  

A REGAL INFANT

I have to admit... not only am I on Baby Watch for the next heir or heiress to the English throne, but also... I'm pretty damn excited about this birth, too. It reminds me of when I myself was past due for delivery of my son... and everyday I got hordes of phone calls inquiring... ANYTHING YET??? Man, I would so love to call the Duchess of Cambridge and say SO?? YOU FEELING ANYTHING?? Granted, I'm not on Kate's A List, so that pretty much is never going to happen but believe you me... I'm pretty close to all types of media lately so I'll be right smack on top of the news when it's released.

As much as I adored Diana's wedding, I must say I adored Kate's just as much. Maybe even more given that HER husband is so much more a gentleman in the purity and integrity department than his father ever was. At least William married a woman he truly loves. Seriously... it is just so damn sad to me that Diana had such high hopes for a loving, joyful marriage only to find out that from the absolute get go... Charles was a fucking liar. He never adored Diana. He never really loved Diana. And he never considered giving up his devotion to a mistress.

Granted, Diana may have been an emotional handful, but geez... what the hell did he EXPECT if he was going to make it a three way marriage? Of COURSE she'd go nuts. Which is why I'm pretty thrilled that it was she who always grabbed all the love and attention and headlines of the world... as opposed to Charlie himself. Who completely sucks btw. Anyway... we all know the tragedy of Diana, so no need to dwell on that crap.

Instead I take total glory in knowing that what in fact, saved the entire future of the monarchy, is without a doubt the marriage of William and Kate. After all the sordid soap operas of the Queen's children, finally... a genuine reason appeared, to ensure that the adoration of the Royals will once again be cherished. A reason that is, by way of: WILLIAM AND KATE. Theirs thank God is a love story that had a huge dose of reality and dignity. Theirs is a marriage that has been created in true modern perspectives. And theirs is a coronation that's killing me since I'll never be able to even see it given I'll be long gone when it actually occurs. Damnit. Which only means: I'M SO PSYCHED ABOUT THIS ROYAL BIRTH.

I can't even IMAGINE what the nursery will look like, but ten to one... I bet it'll be toned down compared to past nurseries. Which is a shame since I'd kill to create the baby's room for a REAL Prince or Princess. I myself would have the designer deck out the place to the elegant nines, but that's just me. In fact... in the pictures up above, you can see a couple of ideas that sorta struck my fancy. Especially since if I were able to have an outrageously stunning nursery for my kid... can you imagine what that would mean in terms of what my OWN bedroom could look like as well?? I'm telling you... I was born to dream of wealth and perks.


So basically this all boils down to the fact that like the rest of the world, I'm dying to hear news of the royal birth. If I were smart, I'd even have a Baby Shower Luncheon much like the Pre Wedding Luncheon I actually had to celebrate the April marriage. THAT luncheon was so incredible and plenty of fun! Regardless... my gut is telling me I bet it's going to be a boy but Kate's gut tells me she's carrying as if it's a girl. On the other hand, the one thing I AM sure of is that there will never be any Royal Bris. Which... in case you care btw... Charles is cut. William and Harry, due to Diana's insistence, are not.

SEPARATION ANXIETY

Oh man... what a nightmare. Turns out my Internist all of a sudden decided to retire. WHO SAID SHE'S ALLOWED TO DO THIS ANYWAY?? I am sooooo unhappy, you can't imagine. Plus... it's a major pain in the ass to find a new one. As if that's not enough apparently doctors are also allowed to say: THANKS BUT NO THANKS. I'M NOT TAKING ANY MORE NEW PATIENTS. Talk about being oh so high and mighty.

Regardless... lickety split I got on the phone trying to set up consultations with new doctors so I can decide whether or not we'd be a good fit. As in: whether or not they'll give me any script I want... kinda like my departing doctor does. She was the perfect set up for me. Boom. I tell her I need a certain med and bingo. She writes the prescription. A basic match made in heaven.

In the meantime, before you even get to the consultation appointment, you have to fill out intake forms for the new medical office. Keyword here is: forms. As in ZILLIONS of them!! With zillions of questions on each sheet, no less. Jesus... you have NO idea how long I was working on these last night. I thought I'd go nuts. What's really crazy is that for someone who is sorta kinda healthy, I had quite a sh*tload of surgeries to document as well as current vitamins and meds. Oh yeah... and ongoing conditions, too. Seriously... what a person with a list of MAJOR medical problems must have to contend with must be sheer and utter hell.

So bingo. Today was my appoint with Sue. The reason I call her Sue is.... sitting down?? She's not even a doctor!! Instead she's a Family Nurse Practitioner who has her Master's Degree and who takes 50 hours of course updates every year. Plus.. come to find out... she's brilliant!! We spent an hour today talking through all sorts of things and I can tell right off the bat she's STRICT. As in: she's going to make me take my blood sugar reading EVERY damn day. Just like all other diabetics do but what I... uh... never do. It's a pain in the ass and I hate doing it given I'm pretty lazy. Even worse she is going to make me stop eating all the crap I love because it's not really good for me. Damnit.

On the other hand, there is a pretty good chance here that I just may become even healthier which I guess is not such a bad thing afterall. I even asked if in the event she isn't around when I need her, is there a doctor in the practice that she likes better than another. She told me the male doctors are way less on top of how to treat medical issues than she is and of the two female doctors, I should try Dr. ABC as opposed to Dr. XYZ. If I heard Sue correctly, she was like the first licensed Nurse Practitioner in the state of NC. Plus... I decided I needed her most for Family Practice type stuff since I already have all my specialists. Bottom line: I do believe I kinda like her.

Which is good given my other Doctor will be kaput come October. Granted... Sue is lessening my separation anxiety but still... I wished my real doc wasn't retiring. Which sorta brings me to another issue in modern day medicine.

While last night I was dealing with these crazy ass forms, yesterday morning I needed to talk to Blue Cross Blue Shield about my son's coverage. I needed to verify that payment was received and his coverage was in fact, still in place. Not a big deal, right?? WRONG. Wanna guess how long I was waiting on the phone after having pressed button after button to get to the right person? IT WAS AN HOUR AND 15 MINUTE WAIT!! I was fit to be tied. Something about medicine has GOT to be switched up. It is CRAZY to be on the phone so long for just a stupid little question. 


Happily it seems that all was good to go but I'm so serious... I have no clue how in his mid 80s my Dad EVER contended with this new fangled way of doing business. Not to mention Medicine. Trust me... if you have no anxiety BEFORE you begin dealing with doctors, insurance companies, whatever.... you will by the time you get to the bottom of anything. Which only means one thing: always have a great shrink on hand ready to help at a moment's notice. 

TRUCK NUTZ

Oh man... ever hear of these things?? Well neither had I and let me tell you... I was STUNNED when I not only viewed them for the first time, but also that there even IS such a thing. It's totally gross. Naturally were I a male I'd have heard of them long ago since apparently they've been on the market for a pretty long time. In fact, from what I'm told they're even banned in some cities. Which is good. They're absolutely disgusting and wholly unnecessary.

Never seen any before?? Then guess what. Today's your lucky day. You can view them first hand in the picture up there. I saw them and had to take a picture of it IMMEDIATELY. What?? Are you kidding me?? There are testicles hanging from that lady's car?? OMG. Say it ain't so.

Unfortunately however I have to say: yes, so. It basically went down like this. I was recently a passenger in the car one day and we were stopped at a light. I took one look in front of me and whammo. I say: TIME OUT. WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?? When told, in no time at all I whipped out my camera and started shooting away. I figured now THIS was something I had to document for posterity. Besides, ten to one I bet I never see this ever again.   

Anyway, to say this caught me off guard is an understatement. Like just how long has THIS been going on where people put chrome testicles on their rear fender?? To find out... I went to two sources. 1.) the Internet and 2.) my kid. On the net I found several sites that sell these and get this... they come in a total array of sizes and colors!! On the other hand, when I asked my son if he ever heard of these his reply was twofold: yes, he's certainly heard of them and no, if any mother sees her daughter being picked up for a date by a guy with these on his car... don't let her go! Basically meaning... the date is a major idiot.

Oh yeah... according to the Urban Dictionary... there are two definitions for Truck Nuts. Sitting down??

1. Truck Nuts: A pair of testicles attached to the rear of a car or truck used as an international symbol allowing homosexual men to identify each other. Red or blue colors are used to indicate if the vehicle owner is a "top" or a "bottom" while other colors indicate "no preference" as well as usual, or unusual preferences. Size of the nuts have no direct relationship to the actual size of the owner's penis and are usually misleading. 2. Originally bull balls, and now also human looking scrotum hanging from underneath the back of a truck. Usually to remind followers that the truck is masculine. Different colors indicate subtle meanings added. Usually considered a redneck accoutrement.


After reading this... I've decided there is basically no more I can possibly say about this topic. It's just way too over the edge for me to contemplate further. Seriously. How many times have I mentioned that entire world has totally gone to hell in a handbasket? See?? I AM right. Here's all the damn proof we'll ever friggin' need. Man... thank God I've got less than 20 years left to live. And btw... you're welcome for me teaching you about crazy ass urban life in the 21st century.  

PROVE IT

Tonight I'm giving you all a test. And btw... for those of you still in South Florida... and you DON'T pass it... then you've apparently been living inside a freakin' cave all these years. The test??? Easy. YOU'VE LIVED IN MIAMI?? OKAY THEN. PROVE IT.

Name this building:

I'll make it even easier for you:

Buzz. Time's up. Oh man... anyone who can't tell me what this building is or where it is located, gets major demerits. Living in Miami or not. Besides, this building is so famous that up until recently it never even had its name on the front. Demerits can be given regardless since basically... there are HORDES of movies where this building has either been featured or actually even been used as the film's prime location. So bingo. I'm hoping everyone came up with the same answer. As in - the name of this building is:

THE FOUNTAINEBLEAU HOTEL, MIAMI BEACH.

I can't even tell you how many times, while growing up, I've been there. In fact... I'm almost thinking that my Grandfather actually had a cabana there, but I'll have to ask my sister for verification of said memory. I've been there as a hotel guest as well as a mere visitor to the restaurants, entertainment, pool, conventions, etc. It was and still is a glorious building and a MAJOR landmark. And... it was designed by Morris Lapidus, who it turns out, became a hotshot, noted architect. Morris also designed the Eden Roc Hotel, which is right next door to the Fountainebleau. Which by the way, royally pissed Ben Novak off but PLENTY. Why so pissed??

Because Ben Novak owned the Fountainbleau and it was literally his pride and joy. More so in fact than even his son... Ben Novak Jr. Ben lived and breathed for the hotel, much to the chagrin of Benjy Jr. Thus, building the Eden Roc right smack next door was more than Novak could stand. In fact, he was SO pissed that Ben then built a huge addition to the Fountainebleau that would totally cover the sunlight from the Eden Roc's pool. 

Wondering how I know all this??

Easy. I'm reading Novak's biography and I'm telling you... it's mighty spicy to say the least. The book includes stories of huge Hollywood celebrities, the Mob, hordes of monies passing hands, lavish celebrations, zillions of women, and even murder. The book spends half the time talking of Ben Sr. but soon spends the other half of the story talking of Ben Jr. Oh man... now THERE was one f'ed up kid if ever there was.

On the other hand, who can blame him. His father basically ignored all parenting responsibilities other than keeping Benjy's wallet pretty well padded. Benjy grew up living in the family's 17th story Penthouse and had access to any part of the hotel he fancied. He also had a HORRIBLE stuttering problem which totally embarrassed his father. Plus... Ben Jr. had a total addiction to law enforcement and later even became a part of the Miami Beach police reserve force. Lastly... what a surprise... Benjy also had a penchant for strippers and overall poor skills in choosing dignified women with whom to surround himself. All in all, this biography not only intrigues me but also brings back memories of days gone by.

The hotel is impressive to say the least and my memories themselves pretty much take note of such impression. You walked into the lobby? Boom. You just knew you weren't in Kansas anymore. It was elegant. It was filled with people hustling and bustling. It was a happy place to be. The pool was amazing. The restaurants had perfectly fine food. And oh yeah... the entertainment was top notch. 

In the meantime, I'm not yet finished with the biography but just let me tell you: things don't work out so hotsi totsi for Benjy. Nor did they work out so well for his father, either. As in: he went bankrupt and lost the Fountainebleau altogether. Which trust me was a hole in his heart from which I don't think he ever recovered.

Bottom line here? What a great place this hotel and Coral Gables and Miami Beach was back in the 50s and 60s... a totally fabulous place to have grown up. And oh yeah... for those who have a penchant for history HERE is a link that will teach you all you have to know about the Fountainebleau. It's pretty interesting if you ask me. 

One last thing. How many of YOU were in fact able to have a piece of all this history? If, like me, you were... then maybe this will look mighty familiar. I totally love it.

HAPPY FOURTH

I kinda like the 4th of July, actually. First of all... I love fireworks. Second of all, I really love hot dogs. Third of all, I love cherry and/or blueberry pie. Fourth of all, I love patriotic songs. And of course, I love being with friends to celebrate almost anything. So bingo. This is a holiday that encompasses it all.

Before I headed out today however, I was reading some email from Janet and somehow we were on the topic of weed. And I don't mean the kind that screws up the gardens in the front of my house. I'm talking the kind that says: YIPPEE. LET'S CELEBRATE. In the meantime, talk about Pavlovian theory. Janet mentions weed and boom. I immediately think: Now THERE'S an idea.

Which means I had to check the clock to see exactly how much time I had left before I needed to high tail it outta here. Once I concluded I had plenty of time to get together all the things I was bringing to the party I was attending... I then concluded I DEFintely had time to roll a couple of joints. Turns out Janet came up with an outstanding idea without even meaning to. Ergo: I went for it.

I can't even tell you how long it's been since I've actually rolled. Normally I go the pipe route. I have three favorites, in case you're interested. One a friend made for me years ago... out of tin foil... that is PERfect for doing the job. The other is a beautiful baby glass pipe that another friend gave to me and which also is a winner. The third... and the one I've used most recently... was given to me by yet aNOTHer friend and it's pretty cool. It's made to mimic the look of a cigarette which comes in pretty handy should you want to drive all over the city while taking a toke or two. No one's the wiser that instead of probably killing myself with future lung cancer, I am in fact... putting a happy smile on my face.  


In the meantime, I used none of the above yesterday. As I said... I went the traditional route. A rolled joint. I decided that while all the others would be busy drinking their wine to get a buzz, I'd get mine on by inhaling a time or two. Talk about mission accomplished. I totally loved it. Best of all... it worked. I got an absolutely lovely little buzz that if you ask me works way better than a glass of wine. Without the sugar and calories I might add. In fact... I think I'm going to have to rethink that which I carry in my purse each day. Having a joint handy can really do the trick, if you ask me.

I will say this btw... I could not stop eating ALL NIGHT LONG. It was crazy. An apparent drawback I see to taking a mere two tokes. It may have just been coincidental given I can't imagine the munchies lasting a full six hours but matters not. For whatEVER reason, I went to bed absolutely stuffed. 

Which I consider punishment enough to all you Google Police out there. Thus... don't get your undies all tied up in a knot. You needn't tract me down given I am far from the criminal element for whom you may be searching. Better you should check out rapists, burglars, etc. since basically all I am doing in this pict is reliving a memory from days gone by. My theory is: if anyone is looking to put an old perfectly refined lady like me in jail for inhaling twice... then go ahead. Just please don't put me in jail where I'll get bitch slapped all over the place. I SO couldn't handle that. 

Unless of course I were high.

MY YEARLY DELIGHT

I was born in May. Thus, my zodiac sign is Taurus. Which means I was born in the Spring. Which also means I am of Mother Earth herself. Which pretty much covers what I'm all about. Actually... according to Tarot.com:

"Earth signs are naturally practical. They are bound to Earth. There is no escaping the reality around them. The Earth is about as real as it gets; it can be felt, weighed and it has substance. Accordingly, the earth signs base their life on what is real, not what is imagined. Sensation is valued over thoughts or feelings. Earth signs live with their feet on the ground. Others seek their advice because of their basic sensibility. For earth signs, seeing is believing.

The earth of Taurus is simple and sensible. It's about getting back to basics. This is about working the earth in a garden or about having the tools that we need in order to build. Taurus isn't necessarily like a Bull in a ring with a toreador. They could be more like peace-loving Ferdinand, seeking the gentle meadows filled with flowers, sunshine and natural beauty."

Of  course it then goes on and on about what an absolute fantastic human being a Taurus is... sensual, jovial, loyal, delights in beauty and oh yeah... my key planet is Venus. About which I'm totally thrilled I might add. So basically, it all boils down to: I am by far, THE best sign ever, if you ask me. Kinda like: whether it be physical love, caring guidance, fun and hilarity, or even sheer intellect, bingo. Hook up with me. You'll never regret it. Okay... so with that said...

I am totally delighted right now. Why?? Because the event I love most is happening right now in my earthy front yard. MY HYDRANGEA BUSHES ARE ALL IN BLOOM!! All seven of them!! PURPLES! PINKS! PALE BLUES! And I'm so telling you... they are simply beautiful! Finally... they've grown to a height where now zillions of these are blossoming at any one time and they are so magnificent its breathtaking. The blossoms are big and round and the bushes are planted on both sides of my lawn. Plus... I'm cutting them right and left to put in vases all over the place. I've even running OUT of vases! Seriously... this is the one event that I look forward to all year long.

No wait. That's not true. It's the second event. The first, without a doubt, is in autumn when my back yard maple leaf trees turn bright orange and yellow. The hydrangeas come in second. The third stunning earthy event I guess is when I have the first snowfall, which I do have to say is breath taking as well. Uh... as long as it melts the next day that is. Anyway...

You just can't beLIEVE my front lawn. It's so gorgeous that it's nuts. I can supply the entire neighborhood with these blooms. Instead however I'm supplying just myself. I mean I get just SO much pleasure when not only do I see hordes of beautiful colors but you can't even IMAGINE the size of these. Take the pink bloom for instance up in the picture there, in the first vase on the left. Would you believe THAT bloom is like 7 inches across!!! Maybe six inches high!! It's AMAZING.

You just need to thank God every damn day you wake up that you get to see these particular plants. In my whole life when I lived in Florida I never saw anything like this at all. Hibiscus, yes. Bougainvillea, yes. Gardenias, yes. But Hydrangeas??? Absolutely not. I never even saw the yellow day lilies that are also in my garden. Nor a snap dragon. Nor a camellia. Nor a poppy. Nor a daffodil. Not even a pansy. That I can even iDENTify these flowers is simply mind boggling.


So basically now that I've had my flower thrill for the year... I totally am counting on Autumn to REALLY ramp up my flora delights. And maybe even a sighting or two of fauna. As in: bears, turkeys and deer. All of which you can easily see in one's yard. NOT MINE of course, but certainly in yards of my friends. Were I to see a bear in MY yard, you can so bet on my having a heart attack right then and there. Which would definitely put a glitch into my absolutely adoring the rest of the Fall season.

OLD FOLKS HOME

Oh man... you so can't believe where I went yesterday. Sitting down? To check out an old folks home! Well... sorta. It's really a retirement living facility but OMG. It's so totally nuts that this is now becoming my future. 

Turns out that I know some people... granted a little older than I... who are signing up for this place. Key word here is: signing up. Apparently you need to get your name on a list, with a deposit of course, so that when you really ARE ready to downsize and move to this place... villas/apts./ass't living/etc... you'll then have a chance to say either OKAY. WHAT'S AVAILABLE or THANKS. BUT I'M NOT READY YET. And then they'll just keep your name on the list and come back to you when something else opens up. My number is 1552 in case you're interested.

Best of all however is that when you DO move there, once you're all settled in... they supposedly can never kick you out no matter what level of medical help will ever be needed. As in: at first I have to move in all independently, happy, healthy and uh... like know who the President is. But once I need assisted living let's say... they'll not only move me up a level but I'll also be able to have totally wonderful medical care. 

And then... let's say I get REALLY old and feeble and have no clue where I am or who you are, or if it's even night or day, they'll move me right smack on up to the nursing home level. Which BTW... I'm counting on never seeing since I've already given directions to my kid to pop a bunch of meds into my hand so I can down them with Vodka or something and gently kiss this world goodbye. Oh yeah... and in case I ever run out of money... yippee. They can't even kick me out due to finances. Uh... well so they say. Anyway...

Yesterday's mission was to see what it looked like and learn just what the costs of all this care could be. Especially given I have no Long Term Health Care plan. But as I said, apparently once you're in... you're in for life. They can never kick you out, no matter what your finances. Which is good since I don't actually know ANYone wanting to actually care for me once I become immobile or am totally blind or can't feed myself. And trust me...  forget about immobility or blindness. Way more important... I DO love to eat thus being fed is way high up on my list.

So as it turns out... the whole set up is really great according to the word on the street but there is... uh... one slight glitch. You have to be able to enter this living community in pretty decent health. As in: you need to be like a real person who can walk, talk, be somewhat healthy, be of sound mind, and basically know what the fuck is going on in the world. Which means: I now have to figure out specifically what the exact time span is between my still having all my wits about me versus when I'll fall and never again be able to walk or even when I might be struck with some crazy ass medical event that will render me ineligible for initial residency. Now THAT sort of timing is kinda hard to forecast.

If God could only give me a heads' up I'd really be thrilled since THEN I'd know the exact moment I should enter this place to begin with. As in: let me know the day BEFORE I become stricken with some bullshit disease and/or problem. Letting me know AFTER will be too late.

If things go according to my personal schedule, I'm sorta thinking I won't need this place for at least another 8 years yet, but never say never. Believe you me... I'll feel really badly to leave my house, but if I stay here... who the hell will help me? Who will nurse me? Not to mention... talk about costly. Full time nursing help at home, which I know from first hand experience, comes at no cheapo price whatsoever. Therefore I do have to somehow figure out the right time to pull up stakes and head on over to this fantastic Pre Old Folks Home. And oh yeah...

As for keeping me alive while I can do nothing on my own but sit and blankly stare at a TV set all day long while dribble is coming down my mouth is SO not what I call quality of living. Which is where the vodka and meds come in. To prolong my life while I have no clue what day is what or can't do a damn thing but gaze out a window in sheer oblivion is nothing more than a financial drain if you ask me. In which case... I'll be happy to merely say: Thanks but no thanks. Do me in and let's call it a day.

The grounds of this place is huge. And the place is immaculate. And the staff are really nice. And all the residents look pretty damn thrilled about living there. Uh... they also look old, but by the time I'm ready for this I'm thinking I'll look old, too. It has a five star rating from the State of North Carolina and it's like THE place to be when you're still loving life, but want to plan for the future. I've got a major choice of  the type of independent living space I'd want but have no clue yet which one I'll choose in the end.


I could have a three bedroom home type space or I could have a huge two bedroom apt. with a balcony and den. Or I could have one of the other 23 zillion layouts. For now... I can only hope that I'll have plenty of time left to decide. Which brings me to: They have my deposit. They gave me a number. Now I just have to figure out how old I wanna be before I check in. Hoping of course, it's before I actually "check out".

A CRAZY ASS DAY

Literally. For today was the day I had my colon examined. Not even funny. I can't even believe how poorly the prep had gone yesterday, but I DID try my best. I swear.

I sat with my glass, pouring from my four liter jug and it must have taken me a good three hours to get down 3/5ths of the crapola poison. I seriously wanted to throw up the entire time, but I came armed. I had a glass of iced water next to me so that I could wash out the taste after three consecutive gulps. Plus, in case that didn't work, I also had an orange Popsicle on the other side of me in case I need even further ammo. Happily I used them both. Unhappily neither really did the trick to disguise the poison.

However, after drinking about 3/5ths of the crap, I finally said to myself: THAT'S IT. MY WORK HERE IS DONE. At least I thought it was anyway. In fact, I actually even tried to do another couple of glasses after my shower last night, but I gagged before the glass even got to my mouth so I said to hell with it.

Which is exactly what I told the nurse this morning. I basically said I was pretty sure I was 95% cleansed; go with that, please. Apparently however, they like to go with 100% cleansed. Which is why they then decided... sitting down??... I needed a Fleet enema. Which is FOR SURE something I normally would never EVER consider having done. On the other hand, I didn't want to go through the poison prep bit YET AGAIN, so bingo. I complied. Twice in fact. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT??? THEY GAVE ME TWO!!! Can you even IMAGINE the state I was in before I even entered the surgical room?? Don't even ask. Had I not had one bit of anything left in my colon, I would have CERtainly had a sh^t fit, you can be sure. But alas... finally. I was cleaned and ready to go.

I was given the heavenly meds via my IV and boom. Next thing you know I was wide awake with everything over. Except for when the doctor came in and told me: BTW... WE REMOVED SEVEN POLYPS AND GUESS WHAT? YOU NOW HAVE TO COME IN AND HAVE A COLONSCOPY SCAN EVERY TWO YEARS instead of three!!! AND OH YEAH.... WE SENT EVERYTHING OFF FOR A BIOPSY BUT I AM PRETTY SURE ALL IS FINE. Pretty sure??? OMG. SHOOT ME NOW. I am telling you right here and now, I have NO TIME WHATSOEVER TO HAVE COLON CANCER. And if I DO... I can promise you there is NO way in hell I can handle having a colostomy bag. Are you f*cking KIDDING ME?? DEFINITELY shoot me now AND slit my wrists, all at the same time. 

Which only means, I SO have to pray the biopsies come back negative and thus, I'll have a clean bill of health. I'd have a freakin' heart attack otherwise. For as it happens, I don't really do major, life threatening disease very well. I do MUCH better at meaningless fun and frolic.

Anyway, you'd almost think that this was to be the end of my ordeal today. But no such luck. Because... FOR SOME GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT REASON... when I woke up from the anesthesia, all of a sudden my right eye was in HUGE PAIN from what felt like someone took a knife and cut right smack straight across my eyeball. It was horrible, let alone so damn mysterious. So...

Wanna guess where I headed IMMEDIATELY after the ass doctor. TO THE EYE DOCTOR. I am so telling you... YESTERDAY WAS CRAZY. TODAY WAS NUTS. Tomorrow better be God damn glorious is all I can say. Anyway... the eye doctor did what he had to do... and I go back in the morning at 10:30 no less and I am crossing my fingers I come out happy as a lark high on weed.

Which now that I think of it, could possibly be a great thing to consider RIGHT NOW as a matter of fact. But I shan't. Instead I'll head to the kitchen and eat some popcorn which I haven't been able to have in a week. You on the other hand, need to head to your ass doctor and have your own colonoscopy. IT'S SO SO IMPORTANT.     

SUMMER BREEZE

Man. I just knew it wouldn't last. Sure enough... the temps are in the 80s.... granted only low 80s so far... but summer is definitely here and I'm none to pleased about it either. I so hate heat.

So much in fact that see that fan off to the side? It's one that I assembled earlier today. And I DO mean assembled. No one part was ever attached to another part... but I do have to say that I have no reason whatsoever to bitch since it was totally easy to put together. Thank God.

As it happens, every room in my house has a ceiling fan. Except for two, that is. There isn't one in my dining room nor in my kitchen. And in summer I sorta NEED an extra boost in the kitchen when I'm busy whipping up intense gourmet meals like let's say a bowl of Cherrios or a melted tuna sandwich. Or when I'm drilling, painting, cutting fabric, or God only knows what. 

Which is where this extra fan comes in. I guess I could have a ceiling fan installed but 1.) this one is way cheaper and 2.) if I went the ceiling fan route I'm picturing all my papers, projects, utensils, etc. would be flying all over the place. Enter: a free standing pedestal fan. I happened to pick this up at Costco actually, when I was there last month.

In the meantime, see how nice and tall it's standing in the picture up there?? See how absolutely perfect it looks like it's going to work out? Yeah... well think again. Because while everything about this deal is indeed great, I do have one slight glitch. That nice tall height??? Uh... it lasts for all of about 30 seconds before it begins to slide way down to the bottom. Kinda like in the picture below. Geez... so not good.

I know. Total bummer. Believe you me... I tried turning the interior plastic screw PLENTY in hopes that it would hold the extension rod up like its supposed to. But apparently, no such luck. For as I said... oh it'll remain tall alright, but also as I said... for seconds only. Maybe 60 at most. Somehow the plastic screw threads are not really doing the job which only means I have to now go to plan B. Damnit.

Meaning: I see now that I'll have to call my buddy Maxie and describe my problem to him for I know he can help. He always does. I'm thinking that maybe we can get a plastic and/or rubber O ring to stick inside somewhere so the inner extension can't slip down, even though it's supposedly screwed tightly. Actually now that I think about it, maybe there even WAS one included in the box, but I really doubt it. I did read the easy instructions and they never once mentioned anything about a support ring. Which is too bad, since it so needs it.

On the other hand, this fan is FANTASTIC. <---- Nice tag line, right?? I turned it on as soon as I got it all assembled and was practically BLOWN AWAY. Literally AND figuratively. You can't believe it... it's like you've got a baby indoor hurricane going on when you put it on top speed. Which is why btw, I immediately moved it to it's lowest speed.

All in all... I'm pretty impressed with this fan, I must say. And believe me... I'll be using it all summer long. Of course my kid will want to use it all WINTER long since it's never too cold for him ever. Honestly... 32 degrees outside? Who needs a coat?? Ramp up the A.C! But whatever.

For now I'm just thinking I'll be pleased as punch once I get the damn thing to stay raised. Better yet... during all the months when it's too chilly for the A.C. but you still need a little breeze happening, boom. This will be perfect. Which is sorta funny considering the one time I NEVER use my ceiling fan is when I go to sleep. In Florida I couldn't consider NOT using it. Here? All of a sudden I totally hate a breeze blowing on me while snoozing. It's like I've become draft sensitive.


And you know what that means, don't you? It's the first tell tale sign that OMG. I'm OLD!

HOLY CRAP

Okay. So I'll give you three guesses what this photo is all about. Think: next Thursday. And... what I need to DRINK on Wednesday. All of it, too. Don't even ASK. I am totally freaked.

Okay. Time's up. And in case you missed it... the correct answer to the significance of this picture is: Gulp. I'm scheduled for a colonoscopy next week.

Which is normally pretty okay BUT yesterday, the minute I picked up these two prep items for the procedure... I thought I'd have a heart attack right then and there in the pharmacy. WHAT? ALL THAT??? I HAVE TO ACTUALLY DRINK ALL THAT?? Holy Mother Crap. Which is exactly what I said to the pharmacist in utter SHOCK when he brought this to me from behind the counter. ImMEDiately my heart began to pound like crazy. And it basically hasn't stopped yet.

Turns out about a year ago, the the doctors in this particular practice totally revamped the prep procedure for colonoscopies. Excuse me? Revamped? This is way more like a COMPLETE OVERHAUL if you ask me. Trust me... I've been having colonoscopies ever since I turned 50 and I well remember the days when you simply had to drink 4 ounces of a MAJOR concentrated phospho soda laxative. And believe me... it was no picnic then either. But whoa. AT LEAST YOU'D BE FINISHED AFTER 4 OZ. But nowadays??? Now I have to drink 4 FREAKIN' LITERS of this poison!! Holy sh*. Kill me now. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I know. I can flavor it with Crystal Light or something, but still. I'd like to slit my wrists altogether.

Seriously. This is just ridiculous. I'm thinking this sort of prepping is what might be needed for animals the size of elephants. For humans?? Totally not necessary. Well, according to the Linda School of Medicine, anyway. Plus... the doctors added an ADDITIONAL cleansing technique. As in: beginning five days before hand (which means today) I have to ALSO mix some of the Miralax powder into a glass of clear liquid each morning which is beFORE I even begin working on the big huge jug concoction. (which means next Wednesday) Can you even iMAGine?? On the other hand... I am SO praying I lose at least 18lbs from this entire ordeal! Man... if only.

In the meantime, this morning when I went to mix some of the Miralax into a drink, MY take was: I didn't even NEED to drink it. Why? Because get this... I was ALREADY pretty much cleansed given I was so damn freaked about all this that I was in the bathroom three times before 10 o'clock! There was no longer anything left in me to beGIN with! Oh man.... this is SO not my cup of tea.

Oh yeah... plus I have to now begin watching what foods I eat. As in: good bye popcorn for the next few days. As well as strawberries, tomatoes, nuts, grains and anything else with seeds. Which I sorta feel is like a free ticket to cakes and ice cream. In fact tonight, I'm going out to dinner so I'm already thinking steak and baked potato which btw, I haven't had in MONTHS.

For now however, I'll simply follow all these crazy ass dietary rules, counting down the days until the big EVENT and then bingo. All my fretting will be well behind me.


Uh... no pun intended.    

SO PICTURE THIS...

Pretend you woke up one morning and your house was pretty much in decent order. Then imagine you got involved with a project. Which then grew into another two or three projects, all the while having different work stations all over the place with your materials basically laid out in several rooms of the house.

Which THEN means you have to imagine nothing short of what looked kinda like a cyclone hit your house. And... throw in the fact that you're still in your nightgown at two in the afternoon, never having yet even brushed your teeth. THEN PICTURE...

Uh oh... your doorbell ringing. COMPANY'S HERE! OMG... that is so what happened to me a few weeks ago. And it was totally embarrassing.

I got a call from Barbara saying she and Laura were on their way over, to which of course I said great. I neglected to tell them the house and I were a wreck, although I did mention I was busy painting a picture. Turns out I threw the picture and the paints out altogether but that's a whole other story.

In the meantime, I do have to say that my company didn't complain once about the cyclone having made a direct hit into my house. Maybe that's because we were all pretty hungry and had to first figure out SOMEthing to fill our faces. My refrigerator btw, while normally quite well stocked, was sadly pretty disappointing on this particular day. Anyway, I have to give my company credit for containing their probable shock. On the other hand...

As if the cyclone wasn't enough already, next thing you know... we were all sitting in my family room, talking about my furniture layout,  trying to figure out a totally new and probably much better configuration. Don't ask.

I have had a dilemma with the configuration of my family room for years. I never USED to have a problem, but then bingo. Three years ago I bought this totally Granny looking sort of contemporary sofa, along with two recliners which I happen to love but arranging all three into a modern looking family room is so never going to happen. And... the furniture was quite a chunk of change too, so 1.) the furniture is here to stay and 2.) it's pretty much not the look I love at all.

In fact, I remember prepping my kid when first he was here to see it by saying aloud... OMG. JUST LETTING YOU KNOW THE FAMILY ROOM NOW COMPLETELY SUCKS. Then, once he saw the new furniture for himself... the very first words out of his mouth were: WHOA. WE CAN NEVER HAVE A PARTY HERE EVER AGAIN, I SEE. Apparently he too got the vibe of the crappy new look. On the other hand, he DID tell me to never let him sit on the new sofa given once seated, you never again want to ever get up. It's WAY too comfortable! Which of course is why I even bought it in the first place. Soooooooo...

In an attempt to switch things up a bit, next thing you know... Barbara and Laura came up with a placement scheme and bingo. Definitely a game Claudia would have loved playing, but she wasn't here. Anyway... we were moving furniture all over the place. Plus, bringing stuff in from the garage, the deck, etc. etc. Enter: more of a cyclone. We THOUGHT it would all look great and had high hopes for the new layout but... ummm... come to find out... in my opinion, it sucked even more. Besides, Barbara isn't all that crazy about the colorful rug I have in the room.

So whammo. Time to move everything BACK to it's original place. Which of course we did, with the final thought being: Guess what. Call Stacey, the interior designer, and have HER give me a heads' up on how to improve things in my family room.

Which I guess is now next on my List of Things To Do. Although I do have to admit I am pretty sure the only thing Stacey can possibly suggest is: UH... GET ALL NEW FURNITURE. Which of course I COULD do but I won't. Turns out the stupid little microfiber covered recliners are even more comfy than the couch. And, deep down inside I really do believe that the REAL problem is the fact the recliners and the sofa are not in proportional balance. Which means:

I'd rather keep the recliners, get a much more stream lined looking couch and THEN rearrange everything. And then naturally... finally sell the Granny Couch. Which I decided I shall sell as brand new given 1.) it absolutely LOOKS brand new and 2.) I never even ever removed the actual manufacturer's ticket. I couldn't. I could tell the moment it was delivered this was eventually definitely going to have to find a brand new home. Hopefully one that would be willing to ante up big bucks for it too, just like I did.    


So the bottom line is: thank you Barbara and Laura for not telling me to my face my home was a disaster. And oh yeah... by the way... the cyclone remnants were all spiffed up nice and neat once again by the time SNL started at 11:30. A time when of course no one rang my doorbell. Figures.

A NEWER BFF

Well, that didn't take long. Just yesterday I seriously thought Joann was my new best friend forever. Unfortunately I see that I now have to kick her out of the lineup altogether to make room for an even better one: Heather. Whom you can see in the picture above. And trust me... she really REALLY deserves the bump up.

Turns out my bank was trying to give me a heart attack today. Gee thanks Mr. Bank Teller. I was at the bank earlier this afternoon to make a deposit of several thousand dollars and when all was said and done, I just happened to ask the guy: OH YEAH, CAN YOU PLEASE GIVE ME MY BALANCE, BTW? Which he did. Uh... except for one slight glitch. Which basically went down like this:

When I saw the amount of my balance, I specifically asked: DOES THIS INCLUDE THE DEPOSIT I JUST NOW MADE? To which I was told YES. Which right off the bat made me panic. So I said... TIME OUT. SOMETHING'S NOT RIGHT. As in: where the hell is the $10k that's ALREADY supposed to in there?? This question apparently threw him for a loop since he basically couldn't actually give me an answer. It was sorta like: Gee. We don't know. All we DO know is that this is your total balance, including your new deposit. I even told him to get the bank manager over here since I could tell something was amiss. It was probably at this point that I became a nervous wreck, btw. With tears in my eyes no less.  

For obviously... all this naturally threw me into a huge tizzy since I could tell that about $10k was sorta unaccounted for. SOMEBODY had to have it and apparently it wasn't me. Seriously... I haven't yet lost my mind COMPLETELY. Granted, I can pretty much spend money like it's water but whoa. Give me a break. I do have SOME inkling of what monies I supposedly have at my disposal. Well, turns out... I do. Just doesn't mean that the bank does as well.

Anyway, don't ask. I decided to leave the bank and go running directly to my investment office which is sorta connected to my bank account to see if THEY can tell me what's what. To my total relief, after about 25 minutes, HEATHER HAD THE ANSWER. 

As in: the bank branch apparently lied to me for as it turns out... NO. THE BALANCE THEY GAVE ME DID NOT INCLUDE TODAY'S DEPOSIT AFTERALL. It COULDN'T have since the deposit doesn't even POST until after midnight tonight!! Oh MAN... what a total f*ck up it was on their part. And hence why Heather has now become my alltime favorite new buddy.

And... to drive home the point, I had Heather call my branch to TELL them they screwed up. And how they scared the ever lovin' shit out of me, too. Naturally that took another 20 minutes since at first the teller didn't want to deal with the mistake he made that practically put me in the loony bin. Until that is, I asked for Candace, his bank manager there. THEN Mr. Idiot Teller naturally couldn't have been more apologetic. Talk about too little too late however.


In the meantime, all's well that ends well and sometime tomorrow I need to go online and there I SHOULD be able to see my REAL balance which will include today's deposit as a mere addition to what I figure I should already have had. Thank God for small favors is all I can say. And.. thank God for Heather. 

Talk about calming down a crazy ass lady which I'm pretty sure is not REALLY in her job description. On the other hand, thanks to her... I'm back down on earth once again. Well... for now, anyway.