But I Thought This Was Only For Old People....

Last week I went for my bone density test and am told that I have Osteoporosis. Holy Crap Batman! I thought that was only something old people got, then I remembered. I am getting old. When did this happen? Apparently, this happened while I was busy taking care of everyone else. While the kids were growing up, I have to admit I didn't take very good care of myself. I was always so busy, that I attended eveyone's needs but my own. I think most women tend to do the same thing. So, now I'm beginning to see the results of my folly.

I was under the false impression that I was getting enough calcium from my daily vitamin and the foods I eat. Let me just tell you right now that is the wrong thing to think. It's especially wrong to think if you're getting ready to go through menpause or are in the middle hell of it. You need to double up on calcium because 90% of post menopausal women have Osteoporosis. Hmm.... Evidently, I wasn't paying attention. I should have already known this. Maybe I knew it and merely ignored it, which is highly likely. The only good news being that I am POST menopausal.

You see, being immature allows my brain to think I'm still as young as my mind. Screeeeeech! So why isn't my body behaving in accordance? It's called the nature of things and I don't think Mother Nature likes me very much. Her gravity is starting to make all my saggable body parts droop and now this Osteoporosis thing. When will all this craziness end? Why didn't I start working out like Madonna when I still looked good? Why wasn't I paying attention? Why didn't someone slap me into consciousness?

Anyone have a spare Xanax? I think I need one....

Dressing Your Midlife Middle...

In the November issue of MORE magazine there is an article of the same name by Charla Krupp, which is what actually prompted me to buy the issue. I could hardly wait to get home and crack it open to find out about how to hide my mid section better. I was very sadly disappointed to find that it was written by someone who doesn't really have a *middle section* problem. I, on the other hand, do have a problem, which warrants me more worthy of authoring an article on same.

Alright, I admit I'm a bit past what you'd refer to as "midlife", unless I expect to live to 112, which I don't. However, I'm not dead yet and I love clothes and I love to look good, which I do most of the time. I look good without their *help*, thanks anyway.

I'm always appalled to see other women my age who dress just like their daughters. Doesn't anyone ever tell them they look ridiculous? Apparently not. I am not one of those women. I don't dress for old age either. I dress for appropriate age. There is a rather large difference.

Anyway, back to the article in More magazine. The clothing she suggests we wear to hide our midsection is ridiculous. Empire waists? Not in this lifetime. Empire waists make me look like an elephant because I also have an overly ample bustline. Her other suggestions include layering clothing and wearing very high heels. What? To hide my midsection? I don't think so! That would only serve to make me look huge. The high heels would only make me miserable the entire time I wear them.

Another suggestion she offered was wearing shapewear like Spanx, Lipo-In-A-Box, Wacoal or Donna Karan. I don't know about you, but whenever I put one of those things on, it only pushes the fat parts up and out, causing you to have a whole new line (in various places) and I don't mean panty line. One night while watching late, late night TV (yes there MAY have been a bit of vodka involved), I came across an info-mercial that was offering basically the same thing, different brand. Yes, I succumbed to their wiley sales pitches and bought not one, but six of them, thinking I would really use them. I got three in the nude color and three in black. After trying on one, the rest have never been out of the boxes. I looked like the Pillsbury Dough Boy on steroids. Again, these were designed by a THIN woman. Uh-Huh.

She did suggest a wrap dress that crosses over in the front, which I really liked until I saw the price. $720.00 by Allegra Hicks. No way Hosay! It's a day dress, not even the kind I could wear to church or a wedding. She also offered a cute, cute cropped jacket by Jeffrey Montiero at $740.00. Another offering was an Empire A-Line (day) Dress by Lisa Perry that retails for $1,095.00 and a two-piece skirt (Missoni $1,975.00) and top (Nili Lotan $280.00) that totals $2,205.00. The latter is one of the ugliest outfits I've ever laid eyes on. The writer actually gets paid for these absurd articles she writes.

What? You've got to be kidding me! Has the entire world gone insane? Not one piece of clothing she offered was affordable, and we're not poor. Just sensible. I might possibly spend that much on a coat I'm going to wear for years, but not on a dress or cropped jacket that will be out of style by next season. Designers need to seriously get a grip on life and what it's really all about, as do those who push the designer clothing.

Needless to say, I have lost all faith in magazine articles that offer helpful suggestions for hiding this flaw or another, geared toward the Baby Boomer Generation. Who are they trying to fool anyway? I think I'll stick with my ever faithful common sense instead. Just because something is in style or is a fad, doesn't mean we should go with it. Sometimes the classics are better and you can wear them for years, no matter the cost. Now, that is what dressing is all about. What makes you look good and what you can afford.

My New Exercise Toy... One More In A Long Line of Failures

Over the years I think I've bought just about everything that has ever been offered for exercising at home. I've had the Step System, which lasted one session before I realized I hated it.


I've also had a number of different exercise cycles, none of which I liked enough to use more than twice. I also had a rowing machine, which I loved, but it broke and couldn't be repaired. I had another *method* that I can't remember the name of, but it consisted of a slick surfaced mat, cloth booties and a video. You skated back & forth on it and I liked it for a while. Then I didn't like it anymore.


I've also had a ridiculous amount of workout tapes like Jane Fonda's series, The Skiing Workout (which damn near killed me), and yes, I even bought a Richard Simmons called "Sweating To The Oldies". Once I saw it, I couldn't imagine what I must have been thinking. I laughed so hard I couldn't do the exercises. Then, I bought a Pilates Set but it was just too damned boring and moved too slow. I did watch it all the way through one time, but didn't exercise. Just watched. I think I fell asleep, so it did have one good purpose. Inducing sleep. Not great for exercise.

I used to race-walk for a couple of years but got bored with going alone. I also walked miles and miles and miles over the years. Then I went through the bicycling stage, which I really got into for a while. Until the daily temps hit triple digits. Not wanting to die, I gave it up for the summer and never picked it up again.


My last foray into the world of exercise was The Torso Track (otherwise known as The Torture Track). We all know how miserably that turned out. Six months later, I think I'm finally healed from that fiasco. What happens when I finally heal? Yes, you guessed it. I always decide to try something new in an effort to save my poor aging body from complete & utter ruin.


So, in sticking with the idiot purchases I've made in the past, I now have a new exercise toy. You know how when you're on an airplane and looking at the Sky Mall magazine, and everything in it looks to be something you desperately need? Uh-Huh. Well, once I saw this little baby, I just had to have it.


Let me formally introduce you to my latest attempt at getting in shape:









Time will tell whether this little machine does what I want it to do. However, it fits under my computer desk, which makes it convenient. I did 10 miles on it yesterday and so far, I actually like it. I also did 5 miles with my arms. This may just turn out to be the thing I've looked for all these years. Like I said, time will tell.

Today I'm Fulfilling My Midlife Aging Dream... One Baby Step At A Time

Yes, I'm excited beyond belief. Today I have an appointment with my plastic surgeon to begin removing the tiny little red spider veins around my ankles. I mean when you walk around on your ankles all day, every day, with flat Hobbit Feet, there's going to have to be some major overhaul work to be done on those babies at some point in time. That time, Dear Readers, has arrived.

Frankly, I'm having this done because I'm too big a weenie to have anything I really need to have done, done. I'd really rather have a breast reduction to eliminate the deep canyons that have been carved into my shoulders after roughly 44 years of trying to hold up these heavy, cumbersome boulders. However, I hear that it really hurts and I'm just a damned weenie.

So, I'm taking the easy road. One baby step at a time.

Next week, I'm really going into uncharted territories. Oh yeah! I've made an appointment with the podiatrist to try and remove the 36 year old twisting, winding plantar's wart I have in the ball of my right foot. I've decided that 36 years is long enough to suffer. Notice that I used the word try (as in remove). I'm not even certain that one can get rid of a plantar's wart after so many years of infestation. The Wart & I have been together for so long, I can't even imagine what life would be like without such random ice-pick-stabbing-pain on a daily basis.

However, Mr. S has informed me that listening to me rub my feet together is something akin to the Song of the Cicadas (locusts). Yes, it's that bad. He claims he can't handle stereo... you know, me inside the house and the locusts outside. It's apparently too much for the poor man. He also claims to be growing weary of listening to me scream in pain, clutching my right foot. I don't hold that against him. I'm far more sick of it than he is. So, I've agreed to see the Doc next week. I wonder if I'll have separation anxiety like babies have with their mothers. I mean, we've been together almost as many years as Mr. Snooty & I.

I wonder if, once The Doc has extracted the corkscrew monster from the ball of my foot, he will allow me to take the creature with me. Weird, you say? No way! I want to torture that sucker or keep it in a jar of formaldehyde, on display, for all to see. Hey... I could charge all the neighborhood kids a quarter just to see it. Like some kind of weird Freak Show and I'd be forever after known as the scary neighborhood Wart Lady. Or I could make a fabulous collage with The Wart as my focal point. And win an artistic interpretation award. WoW! I'm thinking the possibilities might be limitless.

Hmmmm..... Actually, all I really want is to have a life relatively free of pain. I want to be rid of the little Stephen King Devil who dwells within my foot & constantly stabs at it with a dull ice pick, often awaking me from a deep sleep. I want to turn the tables and stab that little devil for a while. No. Wait. I want to stab him for the next 36 years and see how he likes it. Little demon. In. My. Foot.

The oddest part of all this is that for 36 years Podiatrists & other doctors have been telling me what I have is a callous. Ummm... Callouses don't bleed when cut, so I do an occasional self-surgery (so that I can walk) and it bleeds every time. I'm too big a weenie to cut even slightly deep. I've had the "callous" surgically removed six times, but it always finds its way back. Like a bad penny. Callouses don't do that. Where did those guys go to Medical School anyway? Dementia University?

I've no doubt that you'll all be forever grateful to me for not sharing my pictures of said Wart On Foot. I won't even share the freebie pics of other Demon Warts found on Google. (Trust me.. they are deeply scary) You're welcome. I wouldn't wish this on the person I despise most in the world.

My Brain! My Brain! Okay - Who Stole My Brain?

I'm not sure if I left it somewhere, or if someone snatched it while I was sleeping, or perhaps The Alien beamed it up to some planet for use elsewhere, but it has clearly gone missing. Maybe the Evil Hackers came while I was asleep on my keyboard and sucked my entire brain through the computer. It could happen. I wonder if the FBI could help. Or maybe Homeland Security, because I either need some big time help finding it or else I just need to go ahead with a Lobotomy so that I can just stop worrying with it. Jeeeeze!All week I've thought the party @ The Alien's was this weekend. I did my nails, colored my dark roots, picked out what I was going to wear, charged my camera battery, and even shaved my legs & underarms. I'm good to go, right? Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.


While Mr. Snooty & I were playing golf this morning, he asked if I wanted steak for dinner and I replied no because we were going to The Alien's party. He looked at me rather strangely (actually, he looked at me as if I were drunk or retarded or both) and said no that the party was next week. I said no it wasn't because this is Memorial Day Weekend. He said that it was indeed next week. I looked at my watch and sure enough, this is May 24th. It might be helpful if I'd occasionally glance at a calendar. I didn't realize that The Powers That Be pulled an *itchy switchy* on me and changed the weekend we celebrate it this year. That's just peachy. Why didn't someone enlighten me that I was slightly off my on my countdown to the The Party?


This fading memory dilemma started out slowly and just barely began raising its Ugly Head in my late 40's. Mostly little unimportant things here & there, only occasionally. By my mid 50's, it seems like a large, freshly cut Redwood tree headed for the ground at a high speed. *TIMBER!* Everyone take cover! No telling where my mind is and I wouldn't want any casualties among the bystanders. I think I need a Road Trip to go and find it. Oh, if it were only that simple.


Worse yet, I missed a Spring Tea (not that I really wanted to go) on Thursday. Yes, that's right. I thought it was, of course, NEXT Thursday. But the very worst of all, is this. Last week when I was working on my new cooking blog, I was kind of cleaning things up around my own personal blogosphere. I began deleting posts I'd started that I didn't like & some I just messed up beyond repair. Once I finished, I looked on my blog dashboard and it said I'd only made 80 something posts. WHAT A FEEBLE MINDED SIMPLETON I am! I believe this particular post will be #94. So, I inadvertently lied about reaching 100 posts, but I guess since I'm almost to 100, it wasn't that big a deal, although to me it was just another notch in the belt of the culprit responsible for taking my brain!


Then, a few days ago I ventured out to the grocery store and as much as I hate the grocery store, I spent more than an hour there. Waiting for the butcher to get his fat self over to the counter to wait on me, searching the same aisles over & over to find the items on my list (because they constantly change where everything is). I finally chose the longest shortest line, as usual, and after 20 minutes or so, I was at last on the way to my car with the grocery slacker sacker who had my groceries in tow. As we left, I led the way, as if I knew right where my car was. I didn't. Like the sharp cookie I am these days, I had forgotten where I'd parked. It was around 100 degrees outside and the grocery kid was looking a tad frustrated with me. I understood. I was getting panicky and it was hot & the idiot woman from LalA Land (that would be me) could not remember where she'd parked her car. When we finally found my car we were both sweating like a couple of Cabritos on an open pit of fire. I felt so badly that I actually tipped him. Good Grief, I've never before done that.


This is your brain on drugs --------------->










This is your brain on old age ------------->







Can you see a difference? Yup, me neither.


By my calculations, if my brain and eyes keep going at the rate they are currently, I am so totally screwed in like 10 years. I'll be completely deaf, dumb, and blind by the time I'm 65. WoW! Now there's something to look forward to, huh? But, you know what? I just say to heck with it. If I'm deteriorating that fast, then I think it's time to start really living and doing all of the things that I really want to do BEFORE I lose my dearest brain entirely. Damn! I do so hate to see it go. It's been such a good brain for 55 years and I can't believe it's failing me now. I'm sure that has nothing to do with all of the extracurricular drugs brain activities I partook in, back in the 1960's & 1970's. Of course, I'm sure that all the hard liquor healthy martinis I've consumed over the years has nothing to do with this either. It's just old age. Yeah. Right.

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….

It's Beginning to Sound Like A Jungle Outside....

Wow! We must be in full swing of Creature Spring Mating Season. They're all out there *doing it*.... the birds & the bees & crickets & whatever other little critters lurk beyond my door. I tried to keep the door open in my study (next to the desk that houses my computer), and I couldn't even hear myself think! Pipe down you ANIMALS! It's hard enough trying to think without all that blasted racket going on for a nice confusing background noise. What is this anyway, some kind of Paradise? I think not. Judging by the sounds barging through my screen door, you'd think I lived in the middle of fucking nowhere. It wouldn't be so bad if it didn't go on all night long and into the morning. All night long I hear them.... ALL of them. Which of course, makes it impossible to sleep with the windows open on cool nights.



All this noise is especially annoying on nights when I'm having trouble sleeping and my legs keep getting stuck together with the night sweats of being a menopausal woman. It's almost like trying to pry apart hard candies that have been left in the sun. It's also painful at times, if one attempts to separate one's legs too quickly. Trust me on this one. So, there I lie in my bed, staring in the direction of the ceiling, in the dark. Spread-eagled. Sweating profusely. Listening to all of God's creatures, who happen to be having a Sex & Mating Convention just outside my window. Listening to the snorting/snoring person next to me who had double covers on while I choose the no covers category.

I suppose it doesn't help that we have grapevines just outside the windows. I have a feeling I'm going to take that vine out this Summer. Yes, in fact, I'm sure of it. You see, the grapevine coils around a wire trellis which runs from the fence to the side of the house, therefore providing an excellent place for the birds to gather & do whatever else birds do in addition to making lots of noise & pooping wherever they please. The squirrels (that I am oh so not fond of) find it particularly entertaining using it for their workout center, doing all manner of trapeze artist type tricks. The little rats. Cute, furry little rats. Say *bye bye* to your recreation area you little rodents.



The grapevine was here when we bought the house 22 years ago, but we've never paid a moments attention to it. It simply grows on its own in one of our side yards and seeks water wherever it can, I suppose. We've never watered it, but it still continues to thrive & produce fat green grapes every year. The birds have usually pretty well consumed the grapes before they turn even slightly sweet, so I've just never paid much attention to it, aside from eyeing the vines for a wreath project a time or two. Well, let's say I never paid it much mind until I hit menopause. Hehehe... Sorry old grapevine friend, but I'm downsizing and you're history. Soon. Very soon.



Now mind you, I did attempt to get the birds to move by putting a lovely feeder in the backyard, but they just crapped everywhere on my patio, so that plan didn't work. Then, I even went so far as to buy a big fat slingshot (which I was exceedingly giddy about) only to discover I'm no better with a slingshot now than I was as a kid. I did accidentally put a tiny little hole in one of my bedroom windows. Not to worry, duct tape to the rescue. Yes, it is very tacky, but problem solved (for now anyway).

So, it seems my only course of action is to not take any action. I mean, I really like to watch the birds when I'm sitting on the patio in the evening... they're a hoot to watch. So, I went to the drug store and bought little nerf type earplugs and if those don't work, then I suppose I'll have to resort to listening to my Ipod while trying to sleep. Sure hope that fire alarm doesn't need to be heard during the night. That would be a tragedy.

So, I'm not so looking forward to yet another night of jungle life (fever) and sticky buns 'n thighs. I know. Try to not be jealous. Trust me, you'll all get to experience the joys of menopause one day. You Lucky Girls! I would give anything to be able to tell you that it's really fun & a blast & how wonderful it is to be a menopausal woman, but I'd just be lying through my fucking teeth. However, I have heard that if you survive menopause relatively in tact, the rewards get even better. Oh. Never mind. I must have been thinking about something else & got my wires crossed. After menopause, we just start to shrink as our feet & noses get bigger, lol. YeeeeHaaaawww! Aren't you just thrilled with anticipation? Honey, that's just the tip of the iceberg. All of the hellish delights of growing old are just a few breaths away. So, fiddle while ye may.

Gawd, are we having fun yet? I just hope that you aren't all living with a thermostat gestapo, like me. The man who rules the remote in this house seemingly also rules the thermostat. He & I are polar opposites in body temperatures. He wears his winter warm-up suits in Summer to play golf. I have night sweats. I have day sweats. I have sweats that don't give a rat's ass what time of day it is. You do the math. So, in winter he keeps me in Summer clothes due to the heat. In Summer, I live in a swimsuit & pareo due to the heat. We don't have a pool. Yup. That's just what I was thinking. Clearly not proper treatment of a primadona. The quality of his life, as he knows it, might be seriously about to go downhill if he continues this pattern of behavior. ;-P I'm not saying this in jest.

What makes him even more annoying at times, is that he's practically deaf, so he says "What birds? I didn't hear any birds." No kidding. Really? So, he apparently didn't hear the crickets or the other zillions of little beasts out there making their mating calls. *SIGH* Guess he didn't hear himself snoring like a freight train either. Go figure. I'm not sure which is worse... The birds chirping, the squirrels chattering or the snort/snoring of my bed mate, soon to be other bedroom mate. The things I put up with, I swear!

Help Mr. Wizard!

Wow ~ What A Party!

Thank you! to all of you who answered my plea for help disguised as a contest. You shall be rewarded! I wore the #5 outfit, as is, with my *cocktail cowgirl boots* (my new name for them). As we left the house @ 7:10 p.m. (you can't be the first one to the party) I had a moment that I almost ran back to the bedroom and put on #3. I kid you not. I thought I was suddenly making a mistake, but I quickly came to my senses & realized that this is a crazy place. Like I said before, one never really knows what cocktail means in this town. Although, I think I'm beginning to see a pattern. More on this at a later date.


Knowing my hubby would likely rather lock me in the trunk of his car than let me change clothes, I decided I was fine & he rushed me through the front door almost as if he knew what I was thinking. After 30 yrs. of marriage? Nah! Besides, I'm an artist, which means you can wear & do whatever the heck you want, like wearing cowgirl boots to a cocktail party.


Upon arriving at the party, it was instantly obvious to me that the other women in attendance had been no less confused than I. What a treat! Of course the young people were in what I'd call cocktail attire & dressy and undeniably adorable, all. The over 50 crowd were about as diverse in costume as you can imagine in your wildest dreams (except for the men who were, of course, in the usual navy blazer uniform). I felt adorable even in my *cocktail cowgirl boots* but I'm seeing a definite trend that screams *too much comfort* arising from my generation. The attire was a dead giveaway on that & it was scary, as if suddenly seeing us all becoming our own parents. Well, maybe not ALL of us. The best part of all is my feet were as cozy as two babes in blankets and I still looked cute! Okay, maybe not cute....


So, I was able to take a quick shot of the betrothed pair, *A* & *C* and are they not just gorgeous? They are both so elegant & so in love & have such a wonderful road ahead of them, especially with an angel to watch over them. I almost envy them, but I've had my time and it's been one hell of a wonderful, wild ride. I wouldn't have missed it for anything. Their time is beginning now and I hope they will have as much fun as we've had on our journey, which isn't nearly over yet, folks.


Tomorrow I'll find out what all you winners want of my wares, if any. Don't worry. Either way, these feelings won't be hurt or otherwise. And congratulations should certainly accompany thank yous for your excellent choices! You girlfriends definitely have style!


Actually, can't you tell they were just being nice to this old lady so they could get back to having fun @ their party? Who cares? I'm glad I made them do it.

Help Me Pull It Together! A Contest...

I don't understand how I could have forgotten about this cocktail party we're going to tomorrow night. Forget the fact that the invitation is there in plain sight on the board in the kitchen that I pass by umpteen times every day. Forget the fact that it is also written down on our calendar that I also pass by umpteen times every day. The worst of this is that it's a party celebrating the upcoming wedding of the son of my best friend Susan, who died two years ago on April 26, 2006, from complications from her diabetes Her death was unexpected & totally out of the blue. She was one of the funniest, wittiest & smartest women I've ever known. This picture is (L to R) of my daughter, me, my son, "C" and Sus... a long time ago.

I'm not going to go into what a miserable day, week, month, or year that was; just know that it sucked, BIG TIME. Anyway, her son is getting married to the girl of his dreams on April 26, 2008, which they are doing to honor his Mom. He & my kids grew up together. His mother was my best friend. How could I have possibly forgotten that this big cocktail party was coming up?

Susan's son *C* joined the Marine Reserves about 3 months before the events of 9/11 tried to tear our our world apart; much to the misery of his parents. While he was in Iraq his girlfriend *A* finished college & started on her masters. *C* finally came home for the last time and he joined *A* @ TxTech and finished the college he'd started before going w/ the reserves. Since graduating he has begun work on his masters degree as well, and they are at last getting married. So, how the hell could my brain have forgotten this special cocktail party? It's almost like forgetting my own child's party & it just makes me feel as if I've fallen down & bumped my pumpkin too hard on the ground, at some point that I'm not aware of. Oh Wait! That's called aging, isn't it? Well crap! I never thought it would start this soon.

Since noticing that this is happening far too often to me lately, I've taken up doing crossword puzzles (shit, I thought only old people & nerdy types did that) and playing word games & puzzles online, in a panicked effort to try & save whatever brain cells I have left. I suppose it's going to take a bit more time that I'd anticipated. Bummer there.

ANYWAY... here is my big dilemma. I can't decide what to wear. (Shut Up! It is too important!) Now, mind you, my poor feet are almost healed from the L.A. trip, but still vulnerable to newly inflicted pain. (In other words, the scab on my toe hasn't been rubbed long & hard enough to become a callous, thank gawd.) If I had remembered that I had an important cocktail party to go to tomorrow night, I would have been planning what I'm going to wear for the last week. Yes, I suppose you might say I'm anal retentive that way, but now I'm freaking out because I'm not sure I have the appropriate thing to wear. The invitation looks like this and is at the home of a friend (a very nice home).

Sooooooo.... I thought I'd do a little contest of sorts. I'm going to show you pictures of the choices of outfits I have to wear, depending on what I can put together, because I still haven't hit the cleaners since back from L.A. & I don't do one-day cleaners. Period. I'll number each outfit 1,2,3,4 and so on. You choose which one you like the best and leave a comment with your number choice for each different. The contest will end tomorrow at exactly 5:00 p.m., which will still give me around two hours to get dressed.

Now, here's the tricky part. It's going to be kind of like playing with paper dolls, in that you can switch the jewelry, the tops, the skirts, the footwear and the belts in order to come up with your final approved outfit. Or maybe you like them exactly as I show them. Whatever, so when you say what number outfit you're voting for (which should be the closest to your final choice) you then say what those changes are, if any.

I'll make the final decision by 5:00 p.m., wear the winning outfit and announce the winner when we return home after 9:00 p.m. I'll also let you know if it was a bust or a smash. But to tell you the truth, I think I look great in every one of them & feel even better when I wear them. So, they are all on even ground in my eyes. Same with accessories. Love them! Same with shoes! Oh Wait! Nevermind. But they are all on even ground, since they all hurt, lol. Unfortunately, you never quite know what cocktail means in this town.

So, I'm sure you're all like salivating to jump on this one, huh? Don't get too excited until you hear what the prize is. Well, how's this? A ride in the car with my hubby's 90+year old grandad as he whirls around town @ centrifugal speed, terrifying the young & old alike, straddling (and then some) that faithful old yellow line. What? That doesn't tweak your interest? Okay, fine and probably a good thing since he passed away back in 1988. That might be a scary ride indeed.

Ok. So the only other items I have of value (that I'm willing to give away) are my collegiate floorcloths & collegiate trinket boxes. I'll even make three Place Winners, being 1st Place, 2nd Place, and 3rd Place. The 1st winner may have their choice of any collegiate floorcloth & trinket box. The 2nd may have a choice of any collegiate floorcloth. The 3rd may have their choice of any collegiate trinket box. (This is assuming that I have three or more entries, lol.) You can click on the pictures to see the larger image & details. And hey, even if you don't want one of my freebies, just tell me what you think. I NEED HELP!

This is #1

This is #2









This is #3









This is #4

This #5

This is the jewelry I'll be using.

The culprits that caused all my pain...

I have no idea how such a pretty little pair of shoes could have caused so much pain & misery on our recent trip, but they did, right out of the gate. I wound up wearing my cheetah patterned flats every day because they were the only ones I could actually get on my swollen stumps and they hurt the least. Which means I took 6 pairs of shoes I never put on. You can see that I added discreet little footpads, but it was a futile attempt. They killed me in different spots.

However, I was lucky that I could still wear my favorite little bronze flats too, because they were at least dressy enough for my going-out-to-dinner outfits.

I'd show you the cheetah flats, but after that trip, they're more than a bit scruffy looking.

Oh, but the day it turned cold & we went to the beach, I had to stop at a Target on the way and bought a sweatshirt, sweatpants, socks and these little casual tennies. I adore them except for the fact that they're already coming apart after 2 wears.*SIGH* So much for canvas shoes from Target. However, they were cheap & got me through.

You'd think that by my age, I could make wiser decisions about shoes, but I refuse to wear *Nun Shoes* that are ugly, yet good for my feet. Screw that. I'd rather be crippled by cute shoes. Besides, when I'm REALLY OLD & in a wheelchair, it won't matter what's on my feet. Right now, it still matters.

Days 3, 4, & 5 of Vacation on Another Planet Called L.A.

By the way, I got the pictures DU took and have added them to the previous post, so be sure to look @ the update to see the pictures.

Friday morning I had a leg & foot massage at the hotel spa, as well as a body wrap treatment. I really enjoyed this luxury and my new friend Liz, who is very good at her work. (Hi Liz!) Both were wonderfully relaxing and I returned to the room an hour later, a new woman.

After getting ourselves ready, we drove to Beverly Hills to meet the DU for a late lunch at The Ivy. It's a lovely little restaurant that is totally overcrowded with waiters & patrons alike. Even though we had a reservation we still had to wait like 20 minutes to be seated, but it was well worth the wait. I ordered their blackened shrimp over rice, which was delicious, but certainly nothing to get excited about. HU ordered the chicken fried chicken and loved it. DU ordered a salad and an appetizer. We never saw one single famous face, but the service was excellent, though rushed.

When we were finished with lunch, the DU drove us around Beverly Hills, Bel-Air, and to the top of Mulholland Drive, where you have a wonderful view of the entire valley. The traffic is so bad everywhere that you can't just slow down or stop to snap a quick picture. We only had a couple of chances, but made good use of those opportunities.










Next, is a picture of one of the mansions in Bevery Hills and another of a ranch style house on Mulholland Drive. We drove around looking for almost two hours & it was actually fun.



























Friday night we had dinner at a place in Hollywood called The Velvet Margarita, which was wonderful. I had shrimp, again, but I can't remember what anyone else had. They do mix a mean margarita and I had several, which explains the memory loss.

Saturday was the day we planned to go to Venice Beach & Santa Monica, but a cold front had moved in and it was cold & windy. We went anyway, but it was a blistery cold with the high winds & gusts of sand in your mouth. I never even got within 100 yards of the ocean, wimp that I am. However, one highlight was getting my fortune told by Zoltar (the machine that turned Tom Hanks into an adult in the movie "Big"). Unfortunately, I wished for my body to be young again, but I didn't get my wish. Oh well. I will say, however, that hot flashes might have come in very handy, but none were to be found and I was freezing my saggy buns off.














We ate lunch on the beach @ Venice at a place called The Sidewalk Cafe, which was really good. I had a tuna salad sandwich on the most delicious & healthy homemade bread ever. After lunch we tried to walk down Venice Beach, but didn't last long. Here are some pictures.

Still, we did manage to have fun. So, Saturday night we went to dinner in Santa Monica @ a wonderful restaurant called BOA Steakhouse, which was superb in every way. The DU & her roomie MC came with us. We started out with martinis and appetizers of Tuna Tartare and Salmon with Caviar... both were completely amazing. Then, I had their Caesar Salad (prepared at tableside) and the filet mignon with a lovely glass of house merlot. In my opinion, this was the absolute best meal we had during our trip. IF I ever go back to L.A., it will definitely involve another meal @ Boa. Oh, and the service was beyond impeccable. I like good service.

On Sunday, the DU had a soccer game to play, so we went out on our own to find a place for lunch. After searching in all the wrong places, we finally found a little place on Sunset Blvd. called GOOD Microbrew & Grill. They offered more different types of beer than I had any idea even existed. We had a great light lunch on their outdoor patio there, but I chose a Bloody Mary over beer. I'm not much of a beer drinker. Anyway, it was a great spot for people watching & we enjoyed it thoroughly. However, all the high speed driving was taking a toll on me and I felt thoroughly exhausted just after driving on the crazy freeways with all the crazy people. In California the law allows those on motorcycles to do what they call "Splitting Lanes". In other words, they can slip up in between lanes & cars and basically haul ass while everyone in cars is nearly at a standstill. It would really freak me out when one would come loudly from behind, and I nearly wrecked the rent car a number of times.

Afterwards, we went back to the hotel & relaxed because our aging bodies were beginning to protest all the whirlwind activities. I went ahead & started packing, since we were leaving the following morning on an 8 a.m. flight. It was a great, restful afternoon and we watched the new Harry Potter on pay-per-view in our room.

Sunday night we met the DU & her roommate MC @ Barney's Beanery for dinner. I was originally going to have a cheeseburger, but for some inane reason, I finally went with the chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes & steamed vegetables. Big Mistake. Huge. It was absolutely awful & I couldn't finish it. Of course, everyone else thought their dinner was great.

The following morning we were up at 5 a.m. and ready to leave the hotel by 6:30 a.m. Everything went without a hitch until our connecting flight in Las Vegas. Something was wrong with one of the overhead luggage bins, and it took the idiot flight attendants 30 minutes to figure out what to do about it. I've never seen a Southwest flight that had such dumb & unfriendly flight attendants. We finally arrived home an hour late, but grateful to be home, where we don't have to go anywhere for the next month, if we don't want to...

UPDATE ALERT! The First Two Days in the City of Angels...

Well, here we are on day 3 of our 5 day stay and I can't believe I'm just now finding the time to write. We've been a lot busier than I thought we'd be and our internal time clocks are TOTALLY screwed up. Hard to believe a 2 hour time change could make such a huge difference, but it has. Here's the most amazing thing of all.... the HU has been staying up with me every night until like 2 or 3 in the morning, which would actually be 4 or 5 in Texas time. I keep wondering who this guy is & what has he done with my husband? The HU has been a blast this trip and I'm really enjoying his company. He did, however, remind me not to get too used to it because he plans to return to normal when we get home, LOL! Although, I can tell you he's worried that he'll never get back to normal. I told him to relax. Really. Five days cannot possibly have changed a way of life that has been observed for 30 years. Really.

The day of arrival (Wednesday), we checked in to our hotel (which is great!). Our darling DU had delivered a huge basket of healthy snacks, 10 bottles of Dasani, a good bottle of vodka (she knows us too well), and a beautiful arrangement of yellow tulips before our arrival, so it was waiting for us when we checked in. What a treat that was!

After getting unpacked we drove over to see the DU's office/studio in Hollywood. The recording company she works for has dozens & dozens of framed gold & silver records for every great band you can think of and Clio Awards out the wazoo. It was fun seeing all the recording studios, especially the very same ones that Fleetwood Mac, The Beatles & the Rolling Stones used to record in. Those bands were all my musical heroes in the 60's & 70's; some into the 1980's. It was a real thrill for me, although I think the DU takes it all in stride. She didn't grow up listening to them day & night when there were maybe a handful of bands compared to today. These bands were like our gurus in the old days, so I was very reverent during my brief visit. I felt like I was wandering around in a temple and wanted to start softly chanting Oooohhhhhmmmmmmmmm. It was damn near a mind-altering experience of sorts, only I didn't have to swallow funny colored pieces of paper made by my old buddy David Oslee, to get there this time. Is that called a flashback. LOL?. Oh my! How the times have changed. Obviously, when we weren't paying attention. Hmmmmm... Wonder why.

When we left there, we came back to the hotel to get cleaned up, then met the DU, MC (the roomate) and one of their guy friends for dinner @ The Pink Taco, which had the absolute best margaritas and the most delightful chilles rellenos I've ever eaten. They were very lightly filled with grilled skirts of beef, mixed cheeses, diced peppers & onions and the batter was as light & puffy as a cloud. They were served atop an arbol salsa & guacamole on the side and included their delicious house rice, which made it all even better. It was absolutely mouth-watering-delicious, even though the service was not the best at the bar. Okay, it was crowded, but I've yet to see any really good place in L.A. that isn't crowded. Otherwise, our server for dinner was very pleasant, yet not overly attentive, but hey - she did bring the margaritas whenever they were needed. I found that at sea level, I was barely even affected by any of it. That was an unexpected & most welcome treat.

Okay, here's what I did that first night. I made the mistake of wearing my adorable new wedge sandals because I didn't know we had to walk so far to & from the restaurant (that would be the small-town-girl-goes-to-the-big-city part of me that was thinking at the moment I put them on). By the time we arrived back at the hotel, I had a festering blister on the left foot * little piggy that went wee wee weeee weeeeee all the way home*. Oh yes, it's a beauty, so I chose to overdose on Advil and ignore it, aside from putting a little antibiotic cream & an attractive band-aid on. In addition, my feet chose this very same time (conspiring with my poor ankles) to swell up to what I'd refer to as *stump size*. Sounds lovely & fun, doesn't it? I can't begin to describe to you how horrified I was to have discovered I'd forgotten to pack my herbal diuretics, so I slept with like eight huge pillows under my feet & legs all night. It did provide a smidgeon of relief, but I was still in pocession of puffy ankles the next morning. What a day...

Thursday, we slept late, took our time getting cleaned up, had room service for breakfast, then went to the historical downtown area called The Olvera District, where we had to pay $10 to park for an hour. A lot of Olvera was under renovation, but we were still able to see a great deal of it. Gorgeous architecture and a great Mexican Bazaar, where you can buy all the same *turista* items that you can get in Mexico. They were also celebrating "The Blessing of the Animals" with some music by the Indians of the Andes, which has been some of my favorite music for years with soothing wind instruments and soft drumming to the rythyms. I was so excited & surprised & could probably have stayed longer, but I felt the HU had been patient with me long enough. We ate lunch @ a little Mexican food place called Dona Anita's that had the most amazing avacado sauce and flautas, with Mariachis to entertain us as we dined. They also made the guacamole right at your table (although it wasn't anything even resembling fancy, just the type of thing their people do for humble dining guests) and I tried with all I had in me to finish all of it, but I was certain I'd regurgitate if I ate the rest. I had to most reluctantly leave about half of it. It was a really painful thing for me to do, because guacamole is my favorite appetizer/sidedish ever. Final Answer. But we needed to move on with our plans for the rest of the day.

Next, we went to Hollywood Boulevard and parked at yet another $10 parking lot. We spent a couple of hours there and walked from one end of Hollywood Blvd, to the other, spending like 20 minutes at Mann's Chinese Theatre while I took pictures of my favorite star's handprints & footprints and gold stars in the sidewalk. By then, we were both starting to drag our aging asses at an alarmingly slower rate, but were able to have an additional TWO memorable experiences before we reached our car.

First, we got to see L.A.'s finest bust & arrest two groups of gang members. I thought they were called gang bangers, but the DU gave me the one-eyebrow-arched-high-in-suspicion-of-my-sanity-look, so I relinquished to the fact that in spite of all my efforts, I suck @ staying up with the times. I'm fairly certain that we were both standing & watching with our mouths gaping & wide open. Then, to be sure there was no one in the vicinity who had any doubts that we were tourists, the HU attempted to impersonate the paparazzi in an effort to get up close & personal digital shots of the arrests. Stellar shots, Dear Husband Unit.

Secondly, after turning off Hollywood Blvd. to go to our car parked at a lot on Vine, a man of about 25 to 30 years old came from behind us, running. The HU heard a commotion and turned to look & see that the young man was stark raving naked and I'm pretty sure he was totally BONKERS. I unfortunately missed his ying-yang swinging freely in the breeze, but HU was fairly traumatized by it. However, I did get to see his butt and it was a very nice one indeed, albeit a crazy bonkers butt. (Frankly, I haven't seen a butt that tight in 20 years.) The HU's comment was "If this had been in Austin, there would have been 10 guys running naked as a prank". I replied "Yes, but this proves that *Hollywood is still Hollyweird*, just as I suspected". At that moment, the cops came screeching around the corner with lights flashing & sirens howling. They arrested his naked ass with a fair amount of force, because the nutcake was gyrating & shaking his head. We're not absolutely certain, but we believe he's probably in a kuckoo ward somewhere, under heavy medication. (Oh Dear... that wasn't very politically correct was it? GOOD! I've never been known for my tact anyway, lol) Or perhaps a drug rehab. Who knows? Maybe he was a friend of Brittany Spears, on his way to her Beverly Hills home for a meeting of great minds. Uh-Huh. Anyway, we were simply thrilled that something so crazy had happened & it didn't involve us to any great extent. Unfortunately, my camera was out of juice by this time.

The traffic being what it is in L.A. (aka: INSANITY), it took us like 45 minutes to get back to the hotel, which just barely gave us enough time to get ready for dinner & the theatre. Thirty minutes after arriving back @ the hotel, we were off again to meet the DU @ Katsuya (on Hollywood Blvd., AGAIN... paying ANOTHER $10 for parking... we're up to $60 now, including the daily hotel valet parking fee of $30). All that out of mind immediately... Katsuya Hollywood was a very upscale (meaning $$$$)Sushi establishment and we were not disappointed in any way. We started out with the most divine martinis called "Burning Mandarin" that were really spicy hot with the outside rim of the glass coated with sugar, to cut the burn of the hot serrano peppers. I had several. (hiccup!)

For appetizers we had the Sashimi Sampler and the Sushi Sampler, both of which helped me to achieve a *180* in my attitude regarding Sushi. Both dishes were so fresh, beautifully prepared and presented, that I was a total convert before the main course even had time to arrive. Next, we had a delicious Miso Soup, followed by Salmon Sashimi w/ Oestra Caviar and Kobe Filet w/ Foie Gras & Plum Wine Soy Sauce. I was close to a total food orgasm at this point. That is, until the DU's *Lady Boss* had so kindly called ahead to have a Creme Brulee' prepared for us, which she had already paid for. It has sadly been eons since I had truly wonderful & perfect creme brulee', complete with a caramelized crispy sugar topping and fresh raspberries & blueberries & whipped cream as its crown. I tell you, the HU, DU and I were in *High Cuisine Dessert Nirvhana*. The brulee' was so incredibly rich & silky, though not too sweet, which was totally enhanced by the fresh raspberries & whipped cream.

BUT WAIT! Our evening wasn't over yet. Our next stop on the agenda was seeing the musical "WICKED" at the Pantages Theatre. Even after reading the reviews about the production & the history of the Pantages Theatre, we were totally unprepared for what we experienced. It was a totally wonderful, witty, hilarious frolick in the Land of Oz, as well as a delve into the heartbreak of the loneliness in being sensitive and *different* than everyone else. The sets were the most elaborate I've ever seen and THE COSTUMES were wild & wonderful beyond description. It was colorful at times and dark and foreboding at other times, but always a spectacular feast for the eyes & the mind & the soul. The most spectacular part of all was the music. The songs & those who sang them were suddenly transported to an entirely new level of theatre, with a production that tugged at your heart strings with no mercy, while at the same time delivering performances equal to any on Broadway. It all boils down to the indelible bond of true friendship. The highs and lows of this show were completely reflected in its music and I HIGHLY RECOMMEND THIS SHOW to anyone who is going to be in L.A. or anywhere else you might be fortunate enough to see it. My husband hates theatre productions, but was in total awe of this show. That, my friends, is really something, for sure!

Besides, you won't want to miss the extremely well maintained interior of the 1920's Pentages Theatre, which looks like something straight out of a Theda Bara-I'm-Such-A-Bad-Girl-Secret-Agent movie. The entire interior of the theatre looks like someone just cracked open King Tut's Sacred Tomb with an amazing amount of marble, bronze, and gold filigree on Egyptian statues, busts and wall mounts. It's almost overwhelming and difficult to concentrate on the musical at first. I'll tell more tomorrow, along with pictures of the Pantages Theatre, where we saw "Wicked".

As soon as my DU sends the pictures she took, I'll post them. I had forgotten my camera that night.

Our California Itinerary.... Well, supposedly....

Okay, I'm still not packed, LOL! I've been trying but today has thrown me all sorts of curves, which I won't go into right now. Actually, the last curve was this: HU comes in from the office & shows me that he has picked up the cleaning. They ruined my blouse that I was planning to wear on the plane.... my FAVORITE blouse. Grrrrr! In addition, they didn't get my favorite light blue linen capris done. Okay, so scratch that outfit. GREAT! Again, Grrrrr!

Soooo.... we arrive in California mid-afternoon and are renting a CONVERTIBLE.... Yeah Baby! Then, the DU is apparently going to talk us through the drive to her studio/office. That should be an experience to remember. Then, we're supposed to have dinner reservations at the DU's favorite place, The Pink Taco. (Texas girls can move away, but it's hard to change old habits.)

Then, Thursday she has to work, so the HU & I are going to go see Chinatown and then go to the Olvera District and check out the historical part of L.A. If we have time, we're going to hit Hollywood Boulevard after that. Thursday night we have early dinner reservations @ a place called Katsuya in Hollywood, which is supposed to have the best Sushi ever. Big Deal. I hate sushi but the DU & HU love it. I'll be eating crackers, I suppose. Then, we have tickets to see "Wicked" at the Pentages Theatre @ 8:00 p.m. The music is supposed to be amazing, and since I used to do theatre, I'm excited. After all that, we should be close to comatose. Well, the HU will be anyway.

Friday we're eating a late lunch at The Ivy (since that's the only time "nobodys" can get in, lol). Then, we'll probably go see the DU's new apartment. We have dinner reservations @ a place called The Velvet Margarita in Hollywood. I'm not sure what is planned after that, but the HU goes to bed early, so that's probably it for the day, unless DU & her roomie want me to out with them. (However, I seriously doubt that they will even let me in at most places these girls go. I think most places have a no-over-50 thing going on. Like I care.)

Saturday, we plan to spend the day wandering around Venice Beach & Santa Monica Pier, and do some serious people watching. We plan to eat lunch @ a place called The Sidewalk Cafe in Malibu and then have dinner reservations at a place called BOA, in Santa Monica. I'm fairly certain that we'll be close to dead after that. The DU & I are planning to do some roller blading in Venice Beach (which I've never done, lol). The HU plans to just watch from a comfortable position.

Sunday, our daughter has a soccer game, which we plan to go watch (will I never be free of SOCCER?) Then, we'll go eat lunch @ Barney's Beanery, which I haven't been to in 35 years. Then, we have our last night of dinner reservations @ DanTanna's in West Hollywood, which has a fabulous menu.

Sadly, we leave for home on Monday, but I'm sure we'll both be ready by then. We're such old fart lightweights! I hope to avoid having to put on swimwear of any kind, which is why I booked us at a hotel in L.A. and not Santa Monica. I'm just not into shocking people.

Soooo... be sure to stay tuned, for I will give updates as often as I possibly can. We are extremely excited. By this time tomorrow, we'll be eating dinner at The Pink Taco. YeeHaaw! Thank Gawd the hotel has a lovely workout center... I'm definitely going to need it.

I Feel Like The White Rabbit in Alice In Wonderland...

"I'm late, I'm late... for a very important date!" Yes, readers, I am losing it, but I do feel as if I'm the White Rabbit in Alice In Wonderland. I've been running around all day like a damn chicken with its head cut off, trying to get last minute things done.

Our bedroom is a wreck since I have all my outfits hanging everywhere, with shoes, belts & purses scattered about the floor. It's a veritable accident waiting to happen and @ this point it's difficult to believe that it will eventually all come together in my suitcases. Hmmm... we shall see.

Being the old fart that I am, I also have an entire collection of blood pressure pills, cholesterol pills, migraine pills, menopause pills, thyroid pills, vitamins and others to remember. It's truly mind blowing and I'm screwed if I forget any of them. I'm just thankful that these still occupy a relatively small space in my bag, as I've heard they require larger spaces over time, increasing at will.

Why can't I just be happy with one purse & one pair of shoes? Oh, yeah! I am woman, hear me whimper... if I can't bring them all.

Watching the HU pack, I'm getting totally PISSED OFF! I mean, he is only packing 2 pairs of shoes, several pairs of khakis, a navy blazer, several dress shirts, Hawaiian shirts, shorts, and jeans. Aaaaaaargh! If he asks me one more time why I can't get packed faster, I might have to hurt him. I mean Really. Hurt. Him.

As women & wives, it is our dubious responsibility to look good. If I don't look my absolute best, then it makes my hubby look as if he isn't a good provider, and he's a very good provider. He always acts like it's no big deal how I look, but I guarantee you IT IS IMPORTANT (especially @ my ripe age). I'm just around the corner from being spoiled fruit, which means I just have to work harder to look good. It's beyond exhausting, really.

Besides, there's always that gnawing little thought in the back of my mind, that if I happen to see an old flame, I want him to regret he ever dumped me, instead of the other way around. You know what I mean... yes, you do. You don't want to see a old flame looking like shit, because then he walks away with the thought "Damn! I sure dodged a bullet there!". Nope, not me..... can't do it, even if there is the slightest possibility of an encounter. I want to leave them (however significant they were to me) with longing & regret. Hence, the routine of maintenance & upkeep.

Hellfire, the time I spend on my manicures & pedicures alone would astound all you young'uns, not to mention the entire exfoliating thing. I'm telling you, at my age, maintenance is a full time job. (I have to perform most of these duties without my glasses on, so that I don't see the scary truth.) Gawd forbid I should ever let someone else see me during maintenance down time. It has become a very private ritual for me. As you can guess, I spend A LOT of time alone in order to keep to schedule.

So, of course, my medium suitcase is full of the tools & products that I need to maintain my look, which is indeed a very complicated regime. I always insure this bag for extra money, otherwise, I'd be likely to kill someone if it was lost. Diamonds aren't a *girl's best friend* at 55.... mineral make-ups & creams & lotions are. Oh... What am I saying? I'd also kill anyone that lost my clothes & shoes. We're talking about a slow, painful death here. I'm the woman you always see looking out the window of the plane, trying make sure she sees her bag being loaded onto the plane. I can't relax until then. After that, I'm good for cruising at high altitude.

I must sound sooooo anal retentive! Honestly, I am not! I just get a little kuckoo when preparing for a trip. George Carlin explains this better than anyone and he's not even a woman!

Once we arrive in L.A. and get checked in to the hotel, and unpacked, I'll be loaded for bear. Or something like that (I've been in Texas too long). I envision myself looking so incredibly good, that people will think I'm surely some producer's wife. Or something not even closely resembling that. Whatever. I can dream... Oh.... then I remember the bad haircut. *SIGH*

I'm sure that I'll have plenty of time to keep you posted, as the hubby hits the rack early and I'm left to my wandering mind, which clearly needs reigns. So, next time you hear from me I'll be writing from sunny southern California....

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).