It's Hard Being A Good Friend When You Weren't Around Long Enough To Learn...

I know a lot of women who have an amazing amount of friends for their support group. I'm not one of them. It's hard for me to make friends since I never had many growing up. We always moved before I could solidify any relationships with other girls my age. Therefore, I really never had any practice at being a good friend.


Being a good friend is an art I've never mastered, although I do have a few die hard friends scattered here and there. I'm not sure why, since I've never actually worked at cultivating these friendships. Still, I love them dearly and would do almost anything for them. Then it dawned on me that perhaps I'm just not that likable a person, but then decided I'm more likable than most, so that can't be it. I'm just not well versed in remembering birthdays, planning for special occasions, etc. I tend to just go about life living in my own private little world, with little regard for others (since I can't remember anything these days). 


I dream about what it would be like to actually have friends that I talk with every day, but am uncertain as to whether or not that's what I really want. I think it mostly has to do with missing my best friend Susan (Suze/*sooz*), gone five years now. Most of the time I don't think about it but every now and then I get melancholy, missing my oldest friend. I miss going MIA with her on our *afternoon adventures in early cocktails*, lunches-turned-adventures, trips to shop in Dallas while staying at The Adolphus, trips with our kids to every place they wanted to go, etc. Those were truly the days when we had the most fun.


I suppose it's quite different for those who grew up in *normal* families. You never even knew kids like me existed, much less understood what we were going through every time we had to attend a new school (which was basically every 3-6 months for me).


Still, I persevere to learn. It's not easy knowing how to be a good friend without knowing the *ground rules*. I suppose you could say I'm still a work in progress and probably always will be until I die....

It's The Big Wedding Weekend...

Most weekends around here are pretty tame. We don't go out much since we're homebodies and we don't really have a lot of company. So, when a weekend like this comes along, I'm all in. I've been resting up for weeks now. I've also been cleaning like some kind of maniac.

So, the girls got in last night and we ordered pizza and antipasto salads from our favorite Italian restaurant. We sat around the kitchen table talking and laughing and it really was Heaven for me. After that, the girls all went out to hook up with all their old friends who are in town for the wedding.

There are two weddings tonight and we've decided to make it to both celebrations. We'll go to the one friends' daughter's wedding at the church and then attend the other friends' daughter's reception at The Petroleum Club.

I decided to go ahead and wear the Victor Costa suit I got for my best friends' son's wedding last year, rather than go out & buy something else I'll only wear once. My biggest decision today is going to be which pair of shoes I want to ruin in the rain. It rained all night with more expected this evening. It's not fair to have rain when there are weddings to attend.

Snooty daughter invited about 15 people over for a little wedding pre-party, so I'm thinking all the cleaning was a good decision. I've got a few appetizers ready to tide everyone over until the wedding reception and SD went out and bought a huge amount of champagne to make Mimosas. It ought to be really fun!

SD may or may not have told me she thinks she's in love with our best friends' son. Hmmm... Let's see. He's smart, good looking, funny, finished grad school, has a great job, and his parents are our best friends in the world. That would be just too good to be true, which is probably why nothing will really come of it. But, I can sure dream about it....

Coming And Going.... Wondering Why I Do This To Myself

Driving back from San Antonio I was thinking I had at least a week and a half until we leave for Vegas. Wrong. I had once again gotten my days mixed up during an apparent seizure of *old farts disease*. It couldn't possibly have been from my severe hangover. No, not that. My San Antonio friend twisted my arm and made me drink copious amounts of tequila the night before I was making the 5-1/2 hour drive home. (By the way, thanks Sully!)

In the beginning, the tequila seemed ever so harmless disguised in Margaritas. Well, until we decided to take out the bottle of mescal tequila, anyway. She and a former boyfriend had once been down in old Mexico and wound up riding burros way up into the mountains where they knew of a man who made the best tequila in those parts. His place could not be accessed by car or SUV, at that time. They had each gotten 6 bottles, which they hauled back to the states with them. Over the years, she and the ex-boyfriend had consumed a couple of bottles, but the rest had remained in tact.

When they parted ways, my friend had forgotten that they still had it. Apparently, the ex had forgotten as well. When he was getting ready to move to a new house, he found the bottles. To make a long story short, he called me and I was the good friend who was taking them to San Antonio with me. That's how it ended up in my hands.

There have been many times I could turn down tequila. Yes, there have! However, the story of acquiring this tequila and the effects of said tequila has become almost a legend among our friends. My friend has always said that this tequila will not make you slobbering drunk, and that you never have a hangover from it. We had to break open a bottle. We tried not to, for 4 days. Then the urge to try it became so overwhelming that we eventually gave in. Okay, we were like two little kids talking one another into a dare. Okay, fine! I MADE her crack one open. After all, I was the one that took them to her, still in tact.

I'm pretty sure we had fun, but I'm not talking… I'm also pretty sure that we didn't use shot glasses, limes, or salt...

So, why did I have a hangover? I had a hangover because I mixed it with the Margaritas we'd drunk earlier. Mescal has to be consumed all by itself for this dubious outcome to work. Uh-Huh.

And I have no earthly idea which one of us got the worm. I'm trying to not think about it. Eeeeeeewww!

Wooo Hooooo! Show Me The Money Baby....

Occasionally, (albeit it seldom) I have moments of clarity when playing golf. I had the absolute best time at the golf tournament! In addition to having a good time, my partner & I won 2nd Place on Saturday (which meant we actually won green back dollars!). Thankfully, I had GREAT partners on both Saturday & Sunday. Since my handicap is like the highest at our club (of anyone), it actually wound up being the perk that catapulted us into 2nd Place. Yeeee Haaaaaw! Most unfortunately, my next partner & I didn't do so well on Sunday.

On Friday, when everyone arrived, we all checked in and claimed our *adjacent spaces* at Motel Hell. There are two *sides* to the Bates Motel Hell and we were all on the same side, which was probably a*Good Thing*, since we are the most intrusive group of people ever. It seems as if every time we go as a group to play in a golf tourney somewhere, we seem to overtake the complete area we are currently occupying space in. Of course, someone is always inebriated enough to invite the innocent bystanders who always seem to decline.

So, on Friday night (before the tournament began) most of us, the women, stayed up almost all night. I finally yelled "Timber" and fell into bed next to Mr. Snooty (who had gone to bed around 9:00 PM) @ 4:30 in the morning. We were teeing off @ 8:30 AM on Saturday morning, so perhaps this wasn't the wisest of decisions, but OMG! It was Fun, Fun, Fun till Daddy took the T-Bird away. All the hubbys went out like a light around Midnight, but we were having too much fun, so we made the decision to stay up and *partay*, which we did in a most stellar manner. My partner for Saturday disappeared with a pleasant *Nite Nite* around 11:00 PM, which rather worried me, as I was all-in on the staying up all night thing. I ended up having gotten 2 hours of sleep, but I got up & dressed & ready to go @ 6:30 AM. I suppose I can sleep when I die, eh?

So, Mr. Snooty & I got up, dressed, and went off to the nearby town to seek out breakfast (you know... fuel) for the day. I had my coffee and *Breakfast On A Bun* and I was completely pumped up for the day's game. We raced back to the Bates Motel, gathered up our required *tools of the trade*, made sure we had plentiful containers of everyone's preferred poison, gargantuan amounts of ice, and headed for the golf course.When I play golf, everything must go according to my plan or I have major issues. (Oh, sure... there's a big surprise.) I'm certain that my OCD plays an important role here, so I'm quite careful to plan everything precisely. It's almost like a recipe of sorts. Without all the proper ingredients, I melt down like the Wicked Witch of the West. Not wanting to launch that rocket, I plan very carefully so that this doesn't happen. Although my plan doesn't always go the way I'd like for it to (as in San Saba, which apparently everyone on God's Green Earth has heard some version of by now), on occasion I hit The Mark. During this tournament, I freaking SCORED!!! Well... on Saturday, anyway. One out of two ain't bad, huh? I owe this amazing win to my partner Dan B., who is like the most FUN, FUN, FUN partner I've ever had besides Mr. Snooty. He never tried to tell me what to do, nor did he try to change my swing or my stroke, or whatever. I knew I was totally his greatest fan when he added like a pint of Vodka to my 8-ounce cup, at the turn, lol. In addition to that, he was a completely Bad Ass Playa, which (for some unknown reason) made me play better.Once the Saturday round was finished, we all headed back to the Bates Motel to make preparations for our dinner. I provided smoked salmon, cream cheese, chopped red onions, chopped hard boiled eggs and capers, which all disappeared much more quickly than I'd anticipated. So, no wasted food... which made me a happy camper.You would be shocked how much I'd taken of the salmon/cream cheese dish & trimmings. I mean, we'd all had scrumptious cheeseburgers at the course (for lunch), which were included in the price of play, and believe me, they were amazingly good. So, when we arrived back @ The Bates Motel Hell, I was shocked at the consumption of food. I mean, I couldn't eat a thing, so I just busied myself making whores ovaries for everyone else. But, I enjoy that, as long as I'm lavished with compliments. You know... everyone needs a little *stroking* now & then. There's absolutely NOTHING wrong with that. Right? Right.So, we had a major feast Saturday night, which included rib eye steaks (instead of beef tenderloin), a shrimp boil with red potatoes, corn-on-the-cob & Polish sausage, potato salad, and German Chocolate Cake for dessert. Not a bad fare for the likes of the Bates Motel Hell. No one went to bed hungry, for sure.Sunday, we had another 8:30 AM tee time, but I got a good night's rest on Saturday night, once the outside music was turned down to a dull roar. Thank Gawd. Also, the cook was at the course early enough to feed us breakfast burritos before we teed off and they were absolutely delicioso. Doubtless we all were in dire need of fuel for the day's festivities.Because I was going to be driving the 3 hours home after our round, I didn't drink (much). Besides, we'd already paid for an extra day @ Motel Hell, so that we could go back after we finished our round... to rest, get cleaned up & pack up. Yes, it was that cheap. Anyway, neither Mr. Snooty nor myself won a copper penny on Sunday, but we all had fun. Oh, except for the one incident (that lasted throughout the game) with the male partner on the other team of our foursome. I didn't know him well but had played with his wife the day before & she was a real sweetheart. She was also the other half of the team that won 1st place and is really an excellent golfer. I think the worst she said all day was "Darn". Then, there were stories about him (her hubby) from Saturday. Like... he doesn't like music playing, people talking, making any kind of noise whatsoever, when he's making his tee shot. You know, like at professional PGA type golf tournaments. You're not even allowed to breathe or swallow. However, in the real world like Clyde, Texas... shit happens. Which gives you the right to act like a complete jerk, blaming everyone else instead of yourself for bad shots? Let me clarify this. His partner & I were whispering, so his bad shot was our fault. At first I thought he was joking, but he really rather lost his cool on a very asshole-ish level. His partner didn't take it from him & let it roll right off her back.

Unfortunately, being the scorpian that I am, I couldn't let it go. I talked his partner (my friend) into getting some duct tape out of her car and I slapped a large piece across my mouth at every tee. I felt that was the only way he would not be able to blame me repeatedly. Furthermore, I thought I was being funny, even though I never spoke to the a$$hole again. Not. One. Word. However, I do remember concentrating on every one of his putts, thinking "miss it, miss it, miss it". He did, but I never uttered a word out loud or directed at him. The general consensus after the second day, was that they won't be asked back next year. This group likes to have fun and if you can't do that, then you simply don't belong with our group. We are all very laid back and are not anal retentive jerks. Period.

PS: I apologize for not visiting any blogs or commenting or posting on mine. Somehow, I put my back out and now I can't even sit at the computer. I've been in bed for two days and can't get in to the soft touch Chiropractor until tomorrow. I am currently living in Hell, but will let you know when I get out. Right now, I'm not a happy camper and now I'm going back to bed.

Toxic Friends... Be The 1st One On Your Block to Get One!

Let's face it. Any quasi-normal person has come face to face with one kind of toxic friend or another, at one time or another, in their life. So, I decided to begin making a list of Toxic Friend *Types*. I don't claim to have all of them nailed, as yet, but I think I've got most of them covered. Feel free to add your own and let's see how much fun we can have with it.


So, let's have a look-see at the assembled list thus far, shall we?


*The User* AKA *The Brown-Noser* as a Toxic Friend:

This person only has friends as long as he/she can use them for some purpose or goal of his/her own. You later discover their footprints all over your back, where they trampled you to achieve a higher position on the social ladder (or whatever ladder they are currently climbing). This type could be the least harmful of toxic friends, since anyone with a brain can figure out what they're up to within a week. These are very shallow types who really have no conscience about such things. My cat can figure these types out, blindfolded. In 5 minutes.



*The Back-Stabber* AKA *Betrayer* as a Toxic Friend:

Nothing hurts more than a friend who betrays you. The betrayer is truly a toxic friend and the pain they inflict can last a lifetime. This would mean: If your friend got drunk with your boyfriend, then slept with him... THEY ARE BOTH TOXIC FRIENDS. Or finding out a friend has revealed to others, something you told them in private. Hello! First, you need to have your poor little head examined for being there, in that position, in the first place. I mean... haven't you got a gut feeling to your name? Betrayal can come in many forms, yet all are equally painful. You need to get your little feets to run as fast as dey cans in the opposite direction whenever you return from whatever planet you've been out-to-lunch on. And Wake Up! Unless, of course, you ARE this type. Then, you can go at each other with the venom of 100 rattlesnakes for all I care.


*The Control Freak* as a Toxic Friend:

The control freak is a friend as long as he/she is in control. The control freak often seems to be helping you, which is majorly annoying when you wake up & realize what the bitch is doing. Attempt to refuse help or break from the control & you will quickly learn what toxic friendship really means. It is really just the adult form of a schoolyard bully, gone out-of-control WILD. Go with whatever means it takes to rid yourself of this parasite. If they can't break you & control you, they will suck you dry. Unless, of course, you pull your head out of your derriere long enough to use the brain God gave you. Then, you might just run away all on your own! Baby Steps. You can do it.

*The Judge* as a Toxic Friend:

Ever judgmental, ever critical, this friend can erode your self-esteem, whittling it down to a mere thread, if you listen to them. The judge is a friend who finds fault with everything about you, and nary a word of praise. You can rarely do anything completely right with this toxic friend and if you stay friends too long, you'll surely want to KILL HER WHILE SHE HANGS FROM THE CROSS SHE'S HAD TO BEAR FOR BEING YOUR FRIEND. Because often, these toxic friends act as if that's exactly what they've had to do to be your friend. Hang from the cross. So it's best to simply walk away & never speak another word to them. But always smile & be polite whenever you do see them, if you're not already hiding from their view. If ever you try to explain to them that it's merely their unsolicited opinion, which is, of course, a total baloney opinion, they can become enraged at your resistance to succumb. They can get down right crazy when not allowed to judge you. Hmmmm... Ummmm... Nevermind, better yet, just sprint into the darkness from this one. Forget being polite and never hesitate to leave or hide when you do see them in a public place. They can get downright scary sometimes. I mean, if they don't have you to judge, WHAT ELSE ARE THEY GOING TO DO?


*The Promise Breaker* as a Toxic Friend:

This person rarely does what he/she says he/she will do. If you have a date to see a movie, your toxic friend often stands you up. If you have plans to meet for lunch, this person will not show up on time, and often doesn't show up at all, leaving you to sit & wonder why you ever thought this person was your friend. A total waste of your time and a general lack of dependability makes this person a fairly toxic friend, although they are seldom harmful to anyone but themselves. Unless you ask them to come pick you up from the jail or something. I Guess. That would be a typical scenario for The Promise Breaker I think. The Promise Breaker shows, through their actions, how much you're valued as a friend. Better pay attention and move on.



*The Gossip* as a Toxic Friend:

The gossip will eventually betray your trust and become a toxic friend, NO MATTER HOW CLOSE YOU THINK YOU ARE AS FRIENDS. Many times, gossips can't even get (or keep) their stories straight, and wind up causing others deep pain & severe humiliation because THEY gave the wrong gossip to the wrong person. Clearly, these toxic friends would rather reveal a juicy piece of news than keep a friend, whether the gossip is or is not, true. Who loses here? YOU DO. DUH! Sometimes your whole family. DOH! You're always at their mercy, which is the best reason I can think of to avoid these types. Gossips are easy to spot so beware of your precarious friendships with them. However, if you ARE this type, then go mutilate thyself. Good Luck!


*The Self-Centered Person* as a Toxic Friend:

Self-centered people can't think of you or anyone else, as they are too busy thinking of themselves. Sometimes they can be very entertaining, but eventually they make extreme toxic friends as well as becoming a major bore. You could be gushing blood from a head wound & this person will think it's more important to trim their nose hairs than have to get out & take you to the hospital. It's not ALL ABOUT YOU, ok? But that's the thing with these toxic friends. They were actually trained as small children to believe the world revolved around only them, and now they're just totally messed up & hopelessly irredeemable. When confronted, this type has no earthly idea what you're talking about & will often be totally shocked. If you know one, just pray that they don't ever have children. Or become an alcoholic.


*The Competitor* as a Toxic Friend:


The competitor is always looking to be "one up." I call this one the "My Dog's Bigger Than Your Dog" syndrome. They love to dominate the conversation & seldom give a flying flip what you have to say about anything, because they always think they are right. About everything. If they can't be the best at everything, then you won't find them there. They always think they know everything & are quick to take on challenges, so that everyone else will know what they already know (you know, how worthy they are of being Top Dawg). What wonderful specimens they are. Although some competitiveness is normal in friendships, too much competition equals an inflated ego and makes for a toxic friend indeed. Besides, these friends think their opinions are so worthy of merit, you'd be lucky to ever squeeze a word in to any conversation. Since they are always right that means you are always wrong, so your opinion simply doesn't matter. However, if you lack a spine and/or finely tuned verbal & communication skills, I think this would be your top choice for a friend. You could be their pet of the month. Yes, you could.

*The Leaner* AKA *The Loser* as a Toxic Friend:

The leaner/loser is a very needy friend who clings and may be at your doorstep (or calling you on the phone) every day. He/she usually wants all of your time and jealousy often enters the picture in this friendship. These toxic *friends* are more annoying than anything, but can often be a pain in the arse to get rid of. Sometimes they develop into stalkers, so it's wise to remove yourself from the picture as soon as possible. Be sure to have your phone number changed & unlisted as well. Actually, you might just want to consider relocating to another state. These can be the most difficult of all toxics to get rid of.

*The Pain Inflictor* AKA *The Queen of Mean* as a Toxic Friend:

The Pain Inflictor is the kind of friend who likes to embarrass or humiliate you in front of others. Making others look like they're a *few cards short of a full deck*, or demeaning them in some way, is just a pathetic attempt to make themselves look better and/or feel better about themselves (which starts @ ground zero, ok?). Guys are notorious for *falling for* these seemingly innocent females. Luckily, it doesn't usually last long. These types are almost pathologically unaware of what they do, but deep down... they know. They. Know. When confronted, they will attempt putting it all back on you. Just know that joking & sparring verbally in fun is one thing. Inflicting emotional (or physical) pain on another human being is entirely another. Since their actions rarely deliver the feeling they thought they'd get, they do it over & over again in an attempt to find that which is not attainable to them. Ever. Ironically, these are the same people who also sign up for every self enlightenment class available. Too bad it never works for them. They use their friends as whipping posts to achieve what it is they think they need, which is never what they actually do need. (They need full time therapy.) Over time, these can be some of the most damaging friends of all and you'd be smart to avoid them at all costs, unless you have good, thick skin.


No one can always avoid having a toxic friend, but you can most certainly avoid being one, which would surely make this world a better place. That might be the perfect motto. *If you can't make the world a greener & better place in which to live, then try this: Quit being a total creepy jerk. You might not be greening the earth, but you'd sure be ridding the world of another jerk, which I would consider a substantial contribution to this planet*.


Then again, if you aren't able to avoid the toxic friend that eventually soils your friendship like an alley cat, just remember one of my all-time favorite sayings from my grandmother, Mimi: Revenge is a dish best served cold. Hehehe….

Stuck in A Whirlwind...

My whirlwind trip to & from San Antonio was not the relaxing trip I had anticipated. The 5-1/2 hour drive down was pleasant enough, but when I arrived, I experienced another major *senior moment*, *brain fart*, *menopausal breakdown*. It was freezing in San Antonio thanks to a cold front, and I had not gone prepared. In addition to not having the right clothing, I also realized with a great deal of annoyance that we leave for Los Angeles in 5 days. From that moment, I couldn't relax until I was home. This was not due to anything my hostess did or didn't do. She was gracious as always. It was like I had arrived in a panic and it wasn't going to go away until I was safely home.

I'm the kind of person who likes to start packing a week or so ahead of time so that I can be leisurely about it and make sure that I have everything. This always seems to allow me the time to pack way too many things, as I invariably do. I'm not certain as to why, exactly, but I seem to hit a panic mode if I don't stick to this repetitious order. There's no telling what I'll wind up taking with me on an adventure, which is why I have to stick to my somewhat odd routine.

At any rate, I guess I've been blogging too much or something, because I had not paid the slightest bit of attention to a calendar and gawd knows I can't see the date on my watch, nor do I ever check the date on my computer. So, when I arrived at my friend's home she mentioned how fun that I was leaving for L.A. in less than a week. I just kind of looked at her like "HUH? I beg your pardon?" Once I realized I'd made a faux pas in my judgement of *Snooty Time* I was ready to hit the road home.

However, we dined on a dinner of succulent Raspberry Chipotle Pork Tenderloin, Fettucini Alfredo, salad and garlic toast. We drank a lovely domestic merlot and visited for a while, but as it turned out, my friend was just starting to get sick when I arrived. She & her hubby went to bed early, as did I. By the time I left the next morning, she had a temperature of 104 degrees, which of course, really threw me in a panic to depart. I CAN'T GET SICK BEFORE WE LEAVE FOR CALIFORNIA (or after, for that matter)!!!!! Being the paranoid *Howard Hughes* type that I am, I retreated to my sitting room to have a 20 minute session with my hand disenfectant.

The next morning, I hastily yelled my thank you's and farewells down the hall towards her room and made my exit as quickly as I possibly could. What are good friends for, right? As I drove away, it proceeded to rain in a very hard, pounding manner, for nearly the entire drive home, which actually wound up being more like 6-1/2 hours instead of the normal 5-1/2. Thankfully, I had "The Last Juror" CD by John Grisham, to listen to, which was not great, but surely a good enough read (or listen). By the time I arrived home I was thoroughly exhausted & had somehow inexplicably been deprived of my friend's humor & company.

So, now I feel as if I'm stuck in a whirlwind until we leave for California. (I'm also popping vitamins & extra Vitamin C like crazy.) I'll never speak to the bitch again if I get sick (just kidding, honest).

I never did see Charles, as it was his day off. Guess I'll have to wait until the next trip. Meanwhile, I'm furiously running about, getting things ready for our trip and trying to get over my recent bad haircut (which I refuse to talk about).

I Think it Might Be Spring Fever...

Well, I'm going stir-crazy, I think. Or it might conceivably be just a case of Spring Fever. I don't know, but I am definitely restless & not sleeping well. Then again, it might just be another big fat heaping helping of Menopause. There's a surprise.

So, I'm taking off to see one of my best friends tomorrow. She & her hubby live in San Antonio and I haven't seen them for 6 months, so I'm going to brave the 5-1/2 hour (that would be 11 hrs. round trip) drive to San Antonio and escape from here for a couple of days. It doesn't take much to make me restless lately. Judging by what I can remember of my past, I'm fairly certain this is due to Spring Fever & I'm also fairly certain I go through this almost every year. It begins to scintillate in the back of my mind then totally BALLOONS into almost a clausterphobic state of being. Clearly, I need a break from my easy life(?). That sounds entirely insane doesn't it? Luckily, once it's gone, it's gone & forgotten.

It's too early to start my vegetable garden. It's too windy to play golf or make the patio into our Summer haven. My allergies are too bad to take walks with all the wind. It's too early to prune anything or set plants outdoors. It's prior to April 15th, so I haven't had any sales in my online shop. No one ever seems to shop much before April 15th, which I so totally do not comprehend. I shop online no matter what time of year it is. No one seems to be spending anything as of late. Except me, that is. Sooooo... it seems time for me to bolt for a couple of days.

I love going to visit my friend because she is one of the all-time great hostesses. Besides, she has the most wonderful *house man* named Charles who must be 70 by now. Charles has been with her family forever and now resides in their *guest quarters*. He just seems to appear from nowhere whenever anyone needs something. I think he might be a psychic and I adore him.

She has an enormous antique antebellum poster bed in *my* guest room that I have to climb up an antique tapestried foot stool to get into. It's made up with wonderful vintage linens & blankets that are often trimmed in hand made lace . It always makes me feel like I'm climbing up into the bed like the Princess & The Pea, but I'm usually comatose & don't feel a thing once I've slid underneath the cool covers. Plus, she has blackout curtains & keeps it cold inside, so I can sleep like a hibernating bear. She also has the most divine little touches of luxury all around for her guests. I always feel like the primadona I am, when in their home.

My friend is originally from an old New Orleans family and I believe that is just how her family was reared. She never forgets even the slightest little things and she almost always has guests. Little wonder. It's better than staying at the Four Seasons for free.

She is a wonderful cook and always just overwhelms me with everything she makes when I'm there. She goes to the store & stocks up on the things I like, when she knows I'm coming, which is like a gift from the heavens above. They also have a wonderful outdoor spa that can put my lights out with the greatest of ease. Her whole house is like a baby blankie for me and I need a fix of that. Best of all, she makes me giggle until I can't see straight and we usually stay up half the night talking & giggling. What better therapy is there than that, huh? Just show me one shrink that can do that for anyone. Of this I am absolutely certain: Friends are the best & most valuable form of therapy on the face of the earth.

I think blogging might be #2.

So, I suppose you can say I'm going to San Antonio for a couple of days of *Spring Fever/Menopausal Spa Therapy*, sort of. It's the ideal cure for my Spring Fever and whatever else might be ailing me. Thankfully, a couple of days will be all I need.

I'll try to flash a few digitals while I'm there & post when I get back.

Happy Trails! :-)