When you turn 21: party time


For some us, turning 21 and getting “legal” is an invitation to party.

You can drive, or Uber, 40 miles to San Francisco- and all the world is your oyster. Every night can be New Year’s Eve. You can hit the Irish Bars, a SpeakEasy, the Beer Emporiums or go Big Time downtown.

Finally, you can legally, go to the Top of the Mark and quaff. You can try as many dive bars as you want. And, there are so many choose from! Who ha! The HaRa!

Your Passport to Drinking Legal

You can order a Mai Tai, a slow gin fizz, or the 21 Rum Salute at the Fairmont’s famed Tonga Room. You can park at the Union Square Garage and walk right into the E+O and belly up to the bar at have anything you want.

You find bars like the Black Horse – to be perfectly charming. Dude, it is cool. Capacity 10. Standing room only- you have to scream at the bartender- who ignores you  because you’re not a local. So you way over-tip,  just to get his attention, hoping next time he will  remember you. 

Who said youth is wasted on the young?


Screaming for attention. Deaf ears

She arrived for the luncheon at Kaluz in a swirl of designer labels.

She was carrying the Prada bag, a Hermes scarf tied around the handle. Her earrings were diamonds from Tiffany. Her necklaces were Elis Perretti. The diamond watch was a slim Rolex.  Her oversized, red, pen was Mont Blanc. Her hot pink, Faconnbale blazer matched her Armani capris. Her shoes were Fendi. She had just left Marco, the genius, at the Blow Bar minutes before. Per usual, she wanted to be seen and noticed.

Will Ferrell had just completed shooting a movie in her fair city that week. The crew had taken over an entire floor of the restaurant for a wrap-up celebration. The restaurant lobby was jammed with the Press, all rabid to score an interview with Ferrell. As she arrived, she was shuffled off to the smaller dining room to meet her friends. Their table, less than desirable, was in a dark corner. Not happy only begins to describe the ire of our Princess. The waiter recognized these fequent-flyer-ladies -who -lunch, and quickly took their order for “martinis, up, dry, two olives.”

Several martinis later, the ladies decided to crash the Ferrell party – in a stealth manner. They barely made it towards the elevator, before security guards stopped them and guided them back to their dark corner.

A flood of “Do you know who I am?” did not stop the Men in Black/with holsters, from asking the ladies not to bother them again.

The women all decided they hated “Elf.”



Erikk with two k’s: the Psychic du jour


Everybody was talking about, Erikk-with-two-k’s, the world famous psychic.

They said scoring an appointment was virtually impossible. Plus, it cost a fortune. However, the word on the street is that he was “Incredibly spot on.”

Our whole yoga class and half my bookclub lined up to seek his predictions.

I waited three weeks for my appointment. I gathered and ponied up the big bucks and arrived with my top-three burning questions.

I sat across from the John Tesh meets Fred Flintstone-handsome, blond man with primitive features. I couldn’t help but stare at the Slavic features, ice blue eyes (contacts?) and carefully highlighted, coiffed, tresses. He was dressed in black.

Then we got down to business

I asked Erikk about the tall, dark, handsome man I was dating. Without even looking up he asked, “Does he work?” 
“No, he’s looking”.
He’s not looking very hard, darling. He’s a big boy and needs to make money.”
I agreed.
“Drop him today. He is no good. Next question.”

Okay. Wow.

Then I asked him about online dating – to do or not to do.

He said, “Baby, they’re all the same man. Déjà vu, darling! You must stop. You are addicted. They don’t call it Plenty of Fish for nothing. And those men are suckers! Cheap! They won’t even pay for the dating service.”

He paused, leveled those cold blue eyes at me and said, “You need to meet a nice boy. Tell all your friends, and your friends friends, that you are single and looking. That’s all. Danke”

Now,  does a single woman dating a hot, dead end guy with a smattering of personality disorders and no money listen to a very expensive world famous psychic?

This chick did.

The best is yet to come.

Tis grand to be Irish – it’s the berries!

March 17th – The Day Everyone Wants to be Irish

There are Irish Bars in Little Cuba, Chinatown, Japantown and Little Italy…all over the globe.

March 17th  is a really big day for all things Green ( including Green Beer)and famous parades in New York, Chicago and San Francisco;

If you want to fit in or make a massive impression, pepper your sentences with words like these By hook or by crook we love the Emerald Isle – Eire! As you leave the pub – look out for the ball hopper an be doggy wide on the street. Slainte!

It will be the berries!


Revenge is his middle name

PicMonkey Collage-10

The Alabama boy

In grammar school, he was not athletic and played a little kickball- not that well. He was a “square” and a nerd before his time

In high school, he had three friends whom he had lunch with with every day and they talked about science and radio shows.

His cousins from Kentucky called him “Alabama-mama’s boy” which he hated and plotted revenge.

His parents couldn’t afford college, so he earned three scholarships and worked on campus to earn his keep.

He noticed no one ran for student government, so he ran for Vice President of Student Body and won by a landslide. He spent the summer reading Robert’s Rules of Order and turned into a bossy-know-it-all and an outspoken rule keeper. Generally, he was relatively invisible by the entire student body.

Senior year, he Met Cheryl, a plump, Home Ec major – in college to earn her M.R.S. She liked him. They were married the following year.


He heard a lot of guys were going to law school – so he followed suit. While certainly was not popular by any stretch- he became very good at finding positions at that nobody else wanted and signed up. Slowly, he rose through the ranks. Many remarked he was a pain in the neck or like a burr under your saddle,’ just plain disagreeable

Movin’ On Up Eventually, the couple moved to our nation’s capital where he landed various positions in government.


Flash Forward: Cheryl burned her apron,  got a perm, joined Weight Watchers and was the poster girl for WW success. She dabbled in Bridge, abstract art and pottery.  She was noticed and invited to  a play tennis with the other wives.  It turned out she was tennis natural and began to flourish. Both on and off the tennis court.

And then it was: The Affair.

Anybody will tell you that Washington DC is a very small town. And people are wont to gossip… and gossip flourishes.

In 1986, Cheryl met very handsome politician, her husband’s nemesis,  who pursued her.  They met at the famous Watergate Hotel for several “afternoon indiscretions.”

Hitting the fan

When he found out about his wife, he was incensed – the only that she cheated on him but that it was with a man he loathed and detested. The word spread  like wild fire. She divorced him. He called her ‘damaged goods.’ No one would ever call him a gentleman.

 An all out war commenced as he  vowed to wreak havoc upon his opponent.

The two were mighty opponents always arguing over bills – for decades they fought. When said Cassanova hit on Alabama’s second wife – apoplectic only begins to describe the rage and indignation and desire to decimate “HR.”

His best friend was Young Boozer. Boozer’s father was no help.

Slowly, methodically, he soldiers on.



I don’t think so….


Carly tried them all – once. She bragged she could spot a faux dating profile a computer screen away. She had dabbled on Match, JDate,  POF, Ourtime ( ha!) and a few other fly by night dating sites.

She loved reading the funny farce on the Millionairematch.com dating site. She knew a couple of girls who (shock!) lied on their dating application and were accepted.

They were sweet girls in grad school looking for a free meal.dish-rhohbh-01

So…they posted a fake photo…


In no time: This guy with no socks, wearing his golf shoes, posted a fake photo, too – they thought.

The girls were inundated with Tweets from this guy – and quietly closed their account and worked on their Thesis Research Projects on Russian Government.

They would think long and had before ever posting anything fake.bear_chair_n