You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch...

Hope you are all enjoying this faboo Sunday. Had a wonderful Christmas that included my parents and brother. We were able to visit friends for some cheer before sitting down to a sumptuous dinner. Mom and I attended mass that rounded out the day and the season.

Yesterday was spent at my darling sissy in laws (and brother in law, too) house for more of the same with Cheryl's Pumpkin Bread being my favorite thing!

So now it's that lovely day where I had intentions of going out but a day spent in pajamas ruled. The real world can wait. Mulled over gifts, ate popcorn for lunch, read and took a nap with Lola. Ahhhh, such peace.

Tomorrow brings a brief return to normalcy for a few days. Then New Year's Eve will descend and we hope to be skiing if we get a little more snow up north. Please do a naked snow dance if you are able!

Then the real routine settles back in. I always enjoy the quiet of January and general lack of activities. Got LOTS of books to get to.

But for now, I'm gonna heat up leftovers and maybe take another nap. Works for me. Hope everyone is having a sweet, peaceful day. We get so few of 'em! Wishing everyone the best holiday ever. xo

One Hundred Ways.....

Hello my Dollies! Can you believe that today I am posting my 100Th. post! Imagine that for just a minute. Going on two years, once a week, I have had something to share. Triviality and minutia being the most common topic.

It may have been an old memory for laughs, love of a pet, vacation updates, a missed Grandparent story, a random observation or pet peeve, or just a good old rant and rave session. Two times I have attempted non-fiction--something I would like to do more of. But you were there for me.

I have found this all to be fun, challenging, bittersweet at times--and a bit narcissistic. The photo's are fun and the closest thing to being a model a chubby 5'3" girl can get! Venting and remembering is also my therapy and escapism. Sometimes the old days just seemed better, even though Carly Simon reminds us that "these are the good old days." Better strive to make my days richer and fuller. Perspectives get clearer when put into words.

Which brings me to you, dear reader. You have taken the time to read and follow me on this little journey of self discovery. You have put up with my run in and on sentences and miss spelled words--before I discovered spell check. I love and use slang liberally and you tolerate! It was you (Walking Man) that suggested I use paragraphs. Good call, my wise sage. But I still have trouble getting the post to actually post the way I have written it. You have been my family, when at times I feel like an orphan in this city. I have purchased art thanks to Lana via Charles. Some of you are old friends and some of you are new friends. A wise prison educator worries the hell out of me. I have a lovely friend in India who shares her interesting life. Even weird Chinese guy found me, and left his little comment--in words I cannot understand and feel I definitely do not want to! I give a special hug and kiss to the ever gorgeous Michelle who inspired me to try to tell my tales. xo I have had the pleasure of meeting some of you and have been honored that you respect me and my 'little blog about nothing'. I have been likened to Elaine on "Seinfeld" many years ago! You have commented constructively and supportively (and very cleverly-Erik) and for this I am so grateful. How fun would it be to talk if no one listened?

Wishing you all the merriest of Christmas. Be safe and warm, reverent, loving and joyful. May visions of sugarplums dance in your heads. And may you wake in the morning to write about it. Love and kisses, j.

It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood....

So, I come from a long line of golfers. My family is crazy about the game--kinda like a religion. But more feverish and intense. I say more like a cult. And I mean my WHOLE family. From Dad down to the smallest cousin--they have crazy embraced this thing. My Sister even met Tiger (yes, that Tiger) in Dubai once. (and no, She is not one of 'the nine'!)

Lessons from the pro, club lengths, widths, brands, etc. are considered to the smallest detail. Partners for tournaments and foursomes are practically a life and death matter. A tee time must be kept and you dare not be a minute late as the next group is standing around clearing their throats and tapping their toes. Most of the game is spent waiting, and half the time you can't even have a conversation. However, a "nice shot" in a low voice-preferably with a British accent is allowed. The whole thing is interminably long and is generally suffered thru on the hottest day of the summer. It is imperative that you have the proper rain gear to allow play to go on in even a severe storm. There is a special siren that rings to warn you of the threat of lightening pulverizing you into statue you on the spot. Having the sense to come in out of the rain only applies in the most dire situations.

The game is particularly suited for the out of shape athlete. Mostly you just drive a golf cart--a skill I learned later to be my personal specialty--one hand on cold beverage and one hand on the wheel. And unlike a tennis game, for example, there is a cutie pie piloting a special little bar on wheels to serve you a cold refreshment! Now, there's a thing that is truly thought out.

And don' t even get me going on the clothes!! On a family outing my Mom says, "You know, they do not allow tank tops at the country club. You have to wear a shirt with sleeves and a collar." Huh? Like with a little alligator on it? Perfect. Oh and she adds, " No short shorts allowed." And I say, "Please not those long plaid ones?!" Well, you guessed it. Golf shoes appear totally orthopedic and those little spikes aren't even CLOSE enough for heels for me! Some concern about the state of the putting greens or something...And I am NOT wearing that dopey visor!

So after purchasing a truly fugly outfit, I agree to go to "The Club" for the family outing. Yes, I have the cute golf bag with the animal club covers. I've relented and am wearing the polo and long shorts ensemble. The shoes are ghastly.

I get two or three holes under my belt and have the best time watching for the club resident fox and the snapping turtles by the water holes. Okay, kinda fun. I flag down beverage hottie and get a cold beer. Now, driving the ball is sort of a kick, but I quickly lose interest in the rest of the hole. I am scolded and told not to lay down on the green even tho it's 98 degrees in the shade. After enduring a few more holes and even getting in some good shots, I have had enough. My Mom remarks with one eyebrow up that I could really be quite good if I just put my mind to it.

As we finally finish the ninth hole, I am relieved and ready to head into the bar for a real cocktail. Just then someone announces that we have 'made the turn' and are ready for the back 9. Ohfercryin'outloud! Now, I know you are kidding me. I look up and see what appears to be a mirage but is really the cool blue waters of the pool,--complete with chaise lounges. See ya gang! I'm so done with this game. Heading to the pool. Look at the cute lifeguard! And send over that driving drink dude! My Dad reminds me--"NO bikini's".

Man, you guys are no fun at all. Enjoy your week whatever you are up to! xoxo

Eye of the Tiger....

Okay, so I gotta say something about the Tiger news. Everyone else has! I was up north for the Thanksgiving holiday at my parents' house when I heard of the accident involving Tiger Woods and his wife.

Upon first details it appeared that Tiger is such a horrible driver, that he couldn't even back out of his own driveway. The fact that it was 2:30 a.m. probably just meant that he was having a White Castle 'Crave Case' craving. Right? Then in his crazy frenzy, he forgot all driving skills except the ones he employs on the golf course. And doesn't Tiger pimp Buick's? Hmmmm. Guess the Caddy was more his style. Anyhoo, after literally knocking himself out, wife Elin comes to the rescue. She beats the hell out of the back window of the Caddy with his 'Big Bertha' club to make an attempt to extricate her husband. Yes, why wouldn't you do that (Elin 110 pounds, Tiger 200 pounds) and try to pull his heavy, unconscious body out the BACK window over a couple of rows of seats. Okaaay. Neighbors report that she was very distraught once his body was actually lying on the ground. It's not clear exactly how he got there. The vehicle damage did not appear to be 'jaws of life' worthy! Given the very private nature of Elin Woods, this must have been very hard to bear with the neighbors watching.

So now what. I know we are not supposed to judge, but it's hard when a personality sells himself as morally above reproach. Endorsements are sponsored and then based on his sterling character. People (not me!) consider his products because of this. And the numbers are reportedly BILLIONS! (billions spoken in an Dr. Evil voice with my pinky tucked into my dimple!)--both in sales and in dollars for Tiger and Elin. As she was beating the Escalade to death she was probably muttering, " Tiger, you big veenie! Vee're gonna be poor now! Vhat vill people sink?" We will have to wait and see how that all shakes out. Bye, bye Nike, Buick. etc.! Or not.

Here come the euphemisms. After all we are all only human, right? Sex has once again proved to be the great equalizer. Money can't buy you happiness. Things aren't always as they seem. Certainly, nobody's perfect. Tiger said so himself. A man is only human.

For those who blindly supposed that just because you are handsome, a spectacular golfer, a classy interviewee, married to a Swedish model, the father of two perfectly beautiful children, living in an exclusive neighborhood with bags of money--you must be satisfied. No, no and no.

In closing, I just gotta commend Tiger's spin doctors and p.r. people for having him at least tell some of the truth and own up to his errors. I maintain that if Bill Clinton would have done the same thing in the Monica thing, he would have fared much better. The public appears to be able to forgive an adulterer before forgiving a liar.

And so we carry on. My theory is like David Letterman, Tiger will be yesterdays news very soon. Thank God for all of us. P.S. Stay warm and cozy--it's gonna get COLD this week. xoxo