April 2009

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Car memorials they’re called, have y’all seen these? Stickers on the back windows of cars, memorializing some poor dead person.

The first time I saw one I thought maybe the person actually died in the car. Laid down for a nap and just never woke up. That might make sense.

I just don’t get it. Lets take death, tragic and sacred, and turn our grief into a bumper sticker. I loved little Jimmy so much, I’d like to tell the world, on my filthy car window. I’ve heard some even have a photo. Creepy.

Dear Los Angeles,

It’s come to my attention that you’re full of freaks and weirdos. While good for the entertainment business and tourism, it’s kinda crappy for my love life. I’m just trying to meet a guy that’s smart, funny and cute. With a job, but without a wife. And no history of mental illness.

I know you’re a big city with lots of other shit to take care of, but you’ve gotta have just one great guy for me.

Here are some of the craziest things I’ve heard on first dates:

  • My divorce isn’t final, but it’s ok I’ve been dating for years.
  • Ever heard of Borderline Personality Disorder?
  • I’ve had 100 dates, two women a week, for the last year.
  • I bet you look great in only panties and an apron.
  • My last relationship was 4 weeks long.
  • No one ever wants a second date with me.
  • My daughter’s hoping I’ll get back together with my second wife.
  • I was married for 20 years, but the last 10 were miserable.
  • My ex-wife lives downstairs.

Hilarious yes, but I’m just not licensed for this kind of thing. And you’re LA, there’s got to be something you can do.

I’d really appreciate your attention to this matter. Thank you in advance.

Sincerely, What did I ever do to you?

Was on a garden tour yesterday with friends and saw an open house that was, well, open. Cute from the outside, we peeked in. Had no idea how amazing it really was until we stepped inside the 7,300 square feet of dream house.

Right off of Sunset in the Palisades, and totally brand new which is unusual in this city. So you get that new paint smell, and realize every surface is high end, shiny and perfect. Windows all over, looking out back to a massive yard with a big pool. Staged a bit over the top, ok maybe it was too fabulous, lots of creams and white with big sexy art. But really, every room just got better and better.

5 bedrooms/6 baths/gourmet kitchen/2 stories/pool and spa/wine room/4 fireplaces

I’ve only seen houses like this in magazines. The gorgeousness is hard to explain. The monthly payment, hard to imagine, around $30,000.

Check out more photos if you wanna really get sick.

http://lalife.com/address/826_Greentree_Rd_Los_Angeles_CA_90272

From the backyard of what six million dollars can get you:

I want one in the worst way. Must be how some women feel about having a baby. The dog actually seems possible though, right.

I’ve always had a dog and a cat except the 14 years I’ve lived in LA. But shit, who knew I still wouldn’t have a house and a yard? It’ll happen one day soon and walking them at a shelter is the closest thing til then. I admit to occasionally thinking about hijacking one of the especially lovable ones and taking off. And then I remember, I don’t have the room, I work long hours and oh yeah, I can’t have one in this place.

It’s a no-kill shelter where I volunteer, not sure I could handle the other kind. Talk about heartbreaking. I even had to stop looking at the faces of the available cuties on rescue sites, it made me cry. So many dogs and not enough homes.

My own medium-size rescue pup, and I’d be the happiest girl in the whole USA. The Obama girls got theirs, now it’s my turn.

Some dog laws I have for myself:

  • I will not send out Xmas pics with me and my pooch wearing jaunty holiday hats.
  • I will not throw a birthday party for my furry little guy.
  • And even if a Kennedy sends me one, I’ll send it back for a real shelter dog.

Tick-tock. Here boy!

Ever heard of Foreskin Restoration? Me neither until just recently. And it’s every bit as weird as it sounds.

Once you were sans turtleneck, I thought that was it. Turns out some guys are pissed and want their sweater back. Sounds like surgery, right? Nope, the three suggested methods are weights, elastics and cones. Convenient for you do-it-yourselfers, these are at home projects. Or you can buy some creepy products already made for the job called “Foreballs” and “the Tugger.” Seriously.

http://www.norm.org/

This might be a real concern for someone somewhere, but really? Wearing weights or tape to stretch the penis skin back out? I can’t even imagine being the partner of the guy doing this.

While laughing about this with my sister, she told me about fake dog balls. That’s right. Plastic balls that get inserted at neutering. Why? To look like real balls of course. So the other dogs won’t laugh.

http://www.neuticles.com/

Oh goodie. My next blind date has a real career. As a therapist. Yikes. Dating someone that knows crazy so well, he’s even trained in it? Won’t he be constantly one-upping me on all things mental? One step ahead of me at every unfiltered yet charming thing that flies outta my mouth?

But wait. He works with kids. So he’s gotta be patient and caring. And surely he’ll know how to handle an unruly adult.

But wait. Is he gonna want to crawl into my head and figure me out? Will he know what I’m really thinking before I do. And worse, will he want to therapize me? Talking in that calm, soothing voice, reassuring me that he knows best. Ick. Unless I’m paying you, that can not happen.

My always helpful J.C. agrees, she thinks it could be like dating a gyno. He’s been there a thousand times before and seen everyone elses, how can I possibly compete? My own brand of crazy may not even be all that special anymore. And who needs that.

Too late, a girlfriend already gave the poor guy my number. Then actually told him how not so excited I am to meet him if he’s gonna be analyzing my every move. Sounds promising!

Suze Orman tells it like it is, she’s my money hero. And unfortunately she predicts two to three more years of this money mess. So here are her 5 steps we can take now to help ourselves survive the situation.

Step 1) Live on half- That’s right. Whatever you’re spending now, just cut it in half. Whoever does, gets a prize. That prize is, not having to live in a tent and pee in a jar.

Step 2) Stash your cash- Forget her previous advice, and now just let that credit card balance sit there while you pay the minimum. Cash is king so hang on to yours. Um yeah, this also means no new charges. Come on, not charging can be fun. Pretend it’s 1812 and there are no credit cards, just bad, dirty men with guns that shoot real bullets when you owe them.

Step 3) Know the government stimulus package- This means take advantage if you can: COBRA premium subsidies and an $8,000 federal tax credit for 2009 first time home buyers.

Step 4) Make your home affordable- There are two parts to this, a home modification program and a refinancing program.

Step 5) Look at what you have, instead of what you had- Maybe her most important step. Cause if you can’t do this, the others are mostly crap.

So get over yourself, and look around to see all that you have now. Notice so many others with much less? Go do something for someone in need. This last one was mine, I’d like to think Suze would approve.

Oh Baby!

And what a cute one he is. My nephew Silas Andrew.

Thank goodness he’s a fox. It would have been awkward to lie to my sister if he was odd looking. But I would have. You know those babies I’m talking about, they’re more interesting looking than cute. A weird rash, big ears, a fat head. No faking necessary with this one, he’s a real looker, and I don’t think it’s just me. The quest for beauty, sheesh it starts early.

There’s lots of talk lately about women leaving their man for another woman. And ouch, that’s gotta hurt losing your partner to the other team. Or maybe it’s easier to take. Knowing you weren’t left for someone similar-only-hotter, but replaced by someone you couldn’t even compete with. Maybe?

If the love of your life leaves, would you rather it be for a man or a woman?

J.C. I know you’d prefer your husband be dead than gone, so you don’t get to answer.

www.someecards.com/