Friday, December 31, 2010


Gentle Readers,

It's almost time to wish you a Happy New Year! Be sure to check out LegalMist's post on the eating of black-eyed peas for good luck. We in the hinterlands were not aware of the importance of the black-eyed pea, which is actually a bean, so be sure to read the links with which the charming Ms. Mist has provided us so you will have a complete understanding of the reason for abandoning your tuna hot dish in favor of black-eyed peas.

Now let's get on with it. Here's the real reason for this post: I am fascinated by my stats, and I don't mean 36-24-36. For some reason when we were young, we had it in our heads that those were the perfect measurements for a woman. Even at my anorexically skinniest I don't think I ever had a 24 inch waist. And it seems to me that a lot of women are no longer satisfied with 36 as the first number. I keep hearing about teenage girls having breast enhancement surgery and I see so many ads for bras that promise to increase your cup size two-fold. Scary.

But, ah, I digress.

The stats I actually have in mind are for WOMEN: WE SHALL OVERCOME. Yes, I have a stats page to which you are not privy. It's not that there's some big secret there. It would probably bore you even more than I do, but my stats fascinate me.

First, I love seeing where my audience is. Most of the hits I get come from within the U.S. The U.K. is a far behind second, but sneaking up on the U.K. is South Korea of all places. Why do people in South Korea view my posts so avidly? The world may never know.

Way below the U.S., U.K., and South Korea on the hits charts are China, Russia, Japan, Denmark, Germany, Australia, and Slovenia. At one time, I got hits from Latvia, but Latvia seems to have dropped off the map. Damn.

Second, I love seeing which of my posts is the most popular. I find this extremely amusing because The All Time Number One Post is Dumpy Men With Beautiful Skinny Wives from August 15, 2010. This post is a reasonably well-written review of the movie Couples Retreat, in which I complain that most of the men in the movie are neither slim nor attractive, while the women who play their wives and girlfriends are all extremely good looking. I took Hollywood to task for this fact.

But I don't think this post is #1 because the writing is so great or because readers have a burning desire to know what I think about Couples Retreat. The fact is, I also have a stats page that tells me how readers get to me. Quite a few come here after reading LegalMist or WorkForced, but they also end up at that particular post because of search terms they use; namely, "skinny women" and "skinny wives."

So, I think I should find a way to use one of those phrases in every post I write to gain more attention, whether it makes sense in the title or not. Drawing in readers is what it's all about and if I have to claim I'm a beautiful skinny wife in order to get readers, then damn it, I'm prepared to do it. 

How boring I fear it will be, however, to write about my own beauty and slender form each and every day. 


My other all-time most popular posts are the following:
Feb 17, 2010
Nov 17, 2010

Nov 16, 2010

Aug 17, 2010

Oct 14, 2010

Oct 12, 2010, 2 comments

Oct 7, 2010, 2 comments

Nov 6, 2010

Aug 19, 2010

Why are these posts the most popular and why has my font suddenly changed and I have no idea how to get it back to what it should be? I clicked on Font and changed to Default Font to no avail. What's a beautiful skinny wife to do?

I can understand why people like "My Kathy." It's written with love and admiration. And I think "Hell Week" is pretty good. It's about the disappearance and happy return of my dog Harper. 

But what about the posts that seem to have been pretty much ignored? For example, if you go aaaaaalllllll the way back to January 29, 2010, you can read my farewell to J.D. Salinger, which I think is pretty darn amusing. 

I'm also pretty fond of
on October 28th. I like the pictures.

I'm quite proud of And Summer Will Not Come Again
(a title borrowed from the one, the only Plath) 
about Robin the cancer-stricken bulldog coming to us, 
and her impending death. 
I've always been good at milking a few tears.

I could go on and on. When I go back and read my
posts, I quite often think, Heck! These ain't so bad.

Best of all, I don't have to pay for therapy because
I write my posts.

I can't think of anything else I want to tell you
about my stats (40-60-50), but if I come up with
anything, never fear,

you will be the first to know,
Gentle Readers.

Infinities of love,

Lola, the Beautiful Skinny Wife


Thursday, December 30, 2010


Gentle Readers,

Your Lola finally got a little sleep early this morning and awoke to a disaster: Someone chewed off most of one of the handles on the rocking horse Lola's Dad made for Favorite Young Man long, long ago. Who would sneak into Lola's house and do such a thing? Perhaps a certain dog will have to start sleeping in his crate if he is not going to warn Lola that intruders are chewing on treasured artifacts. What a disappointment for all of us.

Now let's get down to business. I like French movies. I have no idea if I spelled my Title correctly, but I still love French movies. I have ever since Favorite Young Woman introduced me to Amelie, starring Audrey Tautou. It's so wonderfully whimsical. If you'll be spending a quiet night at home on New Year's Eve, as I will, I strongly recommend Amelie. Je t'adore, and it has a happy ending.

Boy, it's a good thing I don't get any hits from France. The French certainly would not tolerate my bad French.

I also recommend two other movies starring Audrey Tautou of the big, black adorable eyes. First, A Very Long Engagement, about a young woman whose beloved seems to have died during WWI. She sets out to discover what happened to him. Supposedly, he was executed by being tossed into No Man's Land following his court martial for self-mutilation. Our heroine doggedly tracks every one of the men and their wives, girlfriends, or lovers, who suffered that horror. The twists and turns of A Very Long Engagement are fascinating, making this film as good as Amelie, but in a different way. Je t'adore, and it has a happy ending.

The third Audrey Tautou movie is Coco Before Chanel, a biopic that examine parts of Gabrielle's Chanel's life before she became the famous designer. I learned quite a bit, all of it interesting, about Coco Chanel, and then I googled her to learn even more. Please do not confuse this movie with a Lifetime movie that was on TV during the last year or so. Coco Before Chanel is much better than a Lifetime movie.

And you do understand, do you not, that these French movies are in French? It's o.k. You can read the subtitles. Just don't expect to multi-task when you're watching a movie with subtitles.

These three movies all feature women who deserve to be on WOMEN: WE SHALL OVERCOME, and the fourth is no exception: Marion Cotillard's Academy Award-winning performance as the great and passionate, but troubled, Edith Piaf in La Vie En Rose. Wow! My only regret is that Audrey Tautou doesn't have her own Academy Award. F.Y.W. recommends not watching the extended version of this film; stick with the theatrical version. F.Y.W. says the extended version goes on and on forever.

And finally we get to a French movie I have probably mentioned before because I think it's the most amazing movie I have ever seen: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. It's based on a memoir of the same title about a Frenchman who had a stroke -- this is a true story -- and was able to move only one eye. Much of the film is shown to us from his P.O.V. Although the main character here is a man, the woman who teaches him to communicate by blinking his remaining good eye is also an extremely important part of the story. She helped him write the memoir on which the movie is based. Sadly, or perhaps happily for him, he died soon after completing his book.

Well, now I've prepared you for New Year's Eve. You have no reason to complain that you are lonely or bored. Cuddle up to a good dog or cat and watch a wonderful French movie.

Infinities of amour,



Oh Gentle Readers, Here it is so early in the morning and your Lovely Lola cannot sleep. I have the itchy prickles and three antihistamines have not made them go away.

I believe I have mentioned in the past that I have extremely sensitive skin. Well, it's at its sensitive worst tonight, or, I guess today. At least it's cold enough -- and man is it cold here in the hinterlands -- that the mosquitoes have finally stopped whining in my ear. I don't wake up in the morning with new bites now -- just with scratch marks from raking my nails down my itchy legs, neck, stomach, back, arms, whatever. You name it, it itches.

A dermatologist once explained to me that many people who have sensitive skin get itchy at bedtime because changing your clothes and/or having sheets against your skin aggravates the little nerve endings and they scream, I ITCH LIKE A BITCH. Then the scratching starts and the no sleeping never ends. It doesn't matter that my jammies and sheets are soft cotton, just like the clothes I wear. Tonight I can't stand them. Tomorrow night they might be fine.

That same dermatologist also told me that I had the most sensitive skin she had ever seen. Maybe she was just trying to make me feel important and special. But she said that when she ran her finger across my back that I broke out in hives.

While I lie in bed and scratch, though, words run through my head. I write the most spectacular poems. They are the greatest poems ever written. But somehow when I put them on paper they are no longer so great. What is it about being itchy that makes me think I'm the best poet on the planet?

There are some things we simply are not meant to know.

Infinities of love and prayers for safe and restful sleep,


Wednesday, December 29, 2010


Gentle Readers,

As you may or may not recall, I adopted Franklin the so-called Border Collie recently (check him out at HEEEEEEEERE'S FRANKLIN, the post for October 28, 2010).

I have discovered some things about Franklin:

1. I don't think he's a Border Collie; I think he's an Australian Shepherd.

2. Franklin is extremely intelligent and obedient.

I'm not so sure that Franklin was dumped. Perhaps he simply got lost, as Harper has managed to do on occasion. Someone went to the trouble to at least start training Franklin.

He has never peed or pooped in the house. He has always known that most of us in the family go outside for that activity.

The first night he was here, when I told him to sit and I pointed in the general direction of his rear end, he looked at me rather sheepishly and sat. However, I also think he learns very quickly because I use the command "Crate" when it's time to go in the - guess what? - crate, and I only had to tell him twice and shove him in the general direction of the crate before he knew what Crate meant.

He has also learned, or already knew, Heel, Down, Kiss, Come, and Get Up Here And Sit Beside Me So We Can Cuddle While I Read This Book. He sits when he sees me coming with the lead. He knows that's how we start a Heel. At first when we went walking he pulled really hard when he saw squirrels, and I said, No, we are not chasing squirrels. Now he walks right past the squirrels as if they aren't even there.

I'm impressed with this dog who is sweet and charming and has adapted to our ways. He knows that "House" means it's time to come inside, but I could probably teach him that it's also the name of a TV show I like.

The one thing Franklin absolutely will not do is get in bed with me. I have encouraged him to do so, but the answer is No Way. He will stand at the side of the bed and put his paws on it first thing in the morning when he hopes I will get up and feed everybody breakfast, but he will not actually get into the bed and cuddle. He's certainly capable of jumping high enough to get in the bed, but he seems to prefer the doggie bed on the floor.

If that's the way Franklin wants it, then I'm not going to argue with him about it. He should get to have his way sometimes.

Although Franklin is extremely intelligent, he is not intelligent in the way my beloved Faulkner (who died July 27, 2010) was. Faulkner could not only learn commands and hand signals; he had an intuitive intelligence. He could figure out things for himself, like "If I walk on the other side of the garbage can that Mama is taking to the house, then my lead will help pull the can." Brilliant, simply brilliant,

But it's o.k. that Franklin doesn't figure out stuff like that because he's wonderful exactly the way he is. As my friend Carol says, Faulkner was Faulkner and Franklin is Franklin.

And that's good enough for me, one very fortunate doggie mom.

Infinities of love,


Tuesday, December 28, 2010


Gentle Readers,

When people run  for president, they're always talking about who they want to be like because it's never good enough to just be yourself. Nothing can simply be what it is. The names I hear coming up the most often are Lincoln, Truman, and Reagan, and we get an occasional Rooseveltian, Teddy or Franklin.

Well, when I run for president, I'm going to say I want to be like Calvin Coolidge.

When Coolidge was president, the United States was not in debt; we had a surplus of bucks. Coolidge answered his own telephone and he took a nap every afternoon. He sent his sons to the same prep school more recently attended by Lola's Favorite Young Woman (sadly, one of them died from an infected blister he got while playing tennis on the court at the White House - no penicillin then).

Also, he was known as Silent Cal Coolidge for a reason. He knew better than to run his mouth. Now that could be tough for Your Lola, but when I run for president, I will do my best to be just like Calvin Coolidge.

Coolidge's Dinner Companion: Mr. President, I made a bet that I could get you to say more than two words.

Coolidge: You lose.

Infinities of love,


Monday, December 27, 2010


Oh, what a lovely Christmas, Gentle Readers,

Such good times -- dinner and church with my very handsome Favorite Young Man on Christmas Eve, and late in the afternoon on Christmas he took me to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part I, and he let me grab his arm and hold his hand every time I got scared, and I got scared at least six times because it's a wonderful, though very intense, movie. Definitely the best Harry Potter movie so far.

But Christmas morning was the most fun of all. We went to L.L. and R.L.'s house for brunch and exchanging gifts. Their almost two-year-old daughter, A.R., was in fine form, enjoying everything. But the funniest story of the day was something I didn't get to see because it happened before we arrived.

A.R. got an adorable red kitchen for Christmas - the cutest play kitchen I think I've ever seen. I was jealous; I want a kitchen that cute. However, L.L. is pregnant and has morning sickness. A.R. imitated her mummy by wrapping her arms around her new little kitchen sink and making barfing noises and then asking Daddy for water. Mummy and Daddy were laughing too hard to make a video or get any pictures.

It will just have to be a story that goes down in Christmas morning history.

Infinities of love,


Friday, December 24, 2010


Dear Kathy,

You know what is wrong with us? We are no longer the basis of a family unit, as we were for so long. For so many years, our family unit was us and our children. Then our children grew up and became oxymorons -- adult children. But we were still the basis of a family unit because we had our husbands. Then our husbands went POOF! and our family unit went POOF!

It doesn't matter that we have church families, friend families, oxymoronic children, siblings, and in your case, parents. We are no longer the family unit. The kids have their own lives to live, as do the church families and friend families and relatives who are family. They have their own family units and we don't. God is our real family now, and I don't think we'll be happy --completely happy -- until we are with Him.

One of these days one of my oxymorons might get married and perhaps my husband will be there but not as my husband. We will never be grandparents together. We will not grow old together and travel after we've retired. We will not comfort one another in our old age.

Ladies used to go into mourning when their husbands died. I wonder if you should have gone into mourning. I believe mourning lasted at least a year and sometimes longer. The lady would dress in black the entire time she was in mourning and she didn't make calls or attend social events. She focused on being in mourning. Maybe what you needed was to go into mourning and do nothing but mourn for as long as you wanted.

As long as you would laugh with me when we had something funny to talk about and send me a toy lizard that makes me scream with surprise and delight, it would be fine for you to just mourn.

As for my mourning, yes, I have some fun times, but all too often there is this monster and his name is Sad. He climbs on top of me and crushes me until I don't think I can possibly breathe for another second and sometimes he hurts me so much he makes me cry. I might be watching a movie or reading a book and all of a sudden Sad attacks me. Sad is a most unfortunate holiday guest and he has me in his grip. I wish he would disappear, but I fear he is here to stay.

But we will still have our moments of fun and laughter before Sad jumps back into my lap.

Infinities of love,


Wednesday, December 22, 2010


If you want someone who will eat whatever you put in front of him and never say it's not quite as good as his mother's


then adopt a dog.

If you want someone always willing to go out, at any hour, for as long and wherever you want
then adopt a dog.

If you want someone who will never touch the remote, doesn't care about football, and can sit next to you as you watch romantic movies
then adopt a dog.

If you want someone who is content to get on your bed just to warm your feet and whom you can push off if he snores  (which I would never do because a dog's snore is so sweet and gentle)
then adopt a dog.

If you want someone who never criticizes what you do, doesn't care if you are pretty or ugly, fat or thin, young or old, who acts as if every word you say is especially worthy of listening to, and loves
you unconditionally, perpetually
then adopt a dog.

BUT, on the other hand, if you want someone who will never come when you call, ignores you totally when you come home, leaves hair all over the place, walks all over you, runs around all night, and only comes home to eat and sleep, and acts as if your entire existence is solely to ensure his happiness

image007.gifthen adopt a cat!

You thought I was gonna say marry a man, didn't you?


Tuesday, December 21, 2010


Gentle Readers,

Quite recently, as you already know if you are in the know about my posts, I posted my Christmas wish list to The Twelve Days of Christmas. Now I'd like to tell you about the real Twelve Days of Christmas, which I had the great pleasure of learning about at a church service very early in 2010, which was appropriate because the actual twelfth day is early in January.

When Christmas Day arrives in all its glory, Advent ends. During Advent -- the four Sundays prior to Christmas -- we prepare for the coming of the Son of God. Beginning on Christmas, we are in the Christmas season, which lasts twelve days and ends the day before Epiphany. Epiphany is January 6th and is the celebration of the arrival of the Wise Men bringing gifts to Jesus.

We don't usually think of The Twelve Days of Christmas, the song, as part of the Christian tradition, but in truth, it is. Immediately, our "true love" brings us a gift. Our true love is God. He gives us everything, and best of all, on Christmas, he gives us His Son. The first gift is "a partridge in a pear tree," which refers to Jesus and the cross. A mother partridge lures enemies and predators away from her nest of defenseless chicks and will even pretend to be wounded to get predators to come after her. Of course, Jesus didn't just pretend to be wounded when He was on the cross. The pear tree symbolizes the cross, which St. Paul describes as a tree in Galatians.

Two Turtle Doves: Mary and Joseph had to sacrifice two doves at the Temple when Jesus was forty days old. Additionally, we have two testaments, the Old and the New. This second gift reminds us of God's Word given to us.

Three French Hens: The first meaning of the three hens is three divine gifts of the Holy Spirit - faith, hope, and love. The second meaning is that of the three valuable gifts given to Jesus because apparently French hens were pricey.

Four Calling Birds: They represent the four Gospels that proclaim the saving message -- Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. They call out to us God's salvation through Jesus our Savior.

Five Gold Rings: These unbroken circles represent the never-ending love we receive from God, just as a wedding ring should proclaim never-ending love. Why five rings? Because of the Pentateuch, the first five books of the Bible, written by Moses.

Six Geese-a-laying: What are the geese a-laying? Eggs, of course, so they are bringing forth life. This reminds us of God as our life giver.

Seven Swans-a-swimming: Even more beautiful than swans are the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit to us -- prophesying, serving, teaching, encouraging, contributing to the needs of others, leadership, showing mercy.

Eight maids-a-milking: Milk maids are humble serving girls, yet they do important work by providing the family with nourishment. There are eight maids because of the eight Beatitudes given us in the Sermon on the Mount.

Nine Ladies Dancing: Great dancing requires learning and practice, and it is an art form. The Holy Spirit bestows on his trusting ones the nine-fold fruit of the Spirit that shows itself in our lives, and we must learn and practice these fruits -- love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.

Ten Lords-a-leaping: Lords represent the law of the land; leaping requires great effort. So, the ten Lords represent the Ten Commandments. The Commandments require discipline and effort.

Eleven Pipers Piping: Eleven original apostles remained after Judas had removed himself in unbelief. Jesus sent out the eleven to preach, or in other words, to pipe out loud.

Twelve Drummers Drumming: It's the last day of the Christmas season and God sends us loud drummers. What's the noise all about? Well, drummers set the pace with a firm and steady proclamation of the beat, keeping the peace and holding the group together. Additionally, twelve fundamental teachings of Christianity in the Apostles Creed proclaim how God gives of Himself to save us -- the person of God the Father; the person of Jesus Christ, eternal Son of the Father; who was conceived and born; who suffered, was crucified, died, and was buried; who descended into hell and arose; who ascended to heaven and sits at the right hand of the Father; who will return to judge the world and the universe as we know it; the person of the Holy Spirit; the holy Christian Church; the forgiveness of sins; the resurrection of our bodies on the last day; and Everlasting Life.

So there you have it. You can think of The Twelve Days of Christmas as a teaching song. How do we learn quickly? Through songs, like singing the alphabet. And of course the jingles sung on commercials can stick, sometimes maddeningly, in our minds. Each day of Christmas gives us some aspect of Christianity to remember and learn more about.

Christmas Bells are ringing!

Infinities of love,


Friday, December 17, 2010


Gentle Readers,

Earlier this evening my trusted friend DVR and I watched last night's Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Mr. Stewart has been calling attention to the First Responders Bill that is stalled in the Senate; it has passed through the House but can't make it through the Senate.

Then Jon Stewart had some actual First Responders on the show and they talked about the illnesses from which they are suffering and what many of their colleagues are going through - including death from cancer and respiratory illnesses. They said they had a First Responder friend whose nose actually fell off because of what he was subjected to working at Ground Zero. He had to have a prosthetic nose. One of the guys on the show died twice last year and was revived and has lived thus far, but how much longer?

Their illnesses are not covered by their health insurance because they are on the job injuries. So they get turned over to workman's comp, who fights them over paying their bills. They're losing their jobs because they can't work; one said he has lost his job and is getting 3/4 of his salary. He was told he was costing the NYPD too much money.

How dare the Senate adjourn for the holidays without passing this bill? This is the ultimate in callous behavior.

I don't know exactly what to do, but on Monday I'm going to call the offices of my senators and tell them I want this bill passed.

I hope you will do the same.

Police officers and firefighters and paramedics work on Christmas every year. Why shouldn't the Senate?

Explanation, please.

Infinities of love and gratitude to our First Responders,


Wednesday, December 15, 2010


On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me

Twelve million dollars to help the homeless
Eleven million dollars for homeless pets
Ten million dollars to stop slavery around the world
Nine million dollars to promote literacy
Eight million dollars for health insurance for those who don't have any
Seven million dollars for textbooks
Six million dollars for Habitat for Humanity
Five million dollars to feed the hungry
Four million dollars for the ACLU
Three million dollars for a greener world
Two million dollars for underpaid Wal-Mart workers
And a one million dollar prize for the person with the best idea to help humankind.

And after the twelve days were up and all the money had been distributed I sold my Birkin bags and Hermes scarves and every other worthless thing I had that was valuable to somebody else and I gave the money to my church to help people live in a world without end, Amen.

Idealistic? Yes. Impractical? Yes. But if we don't try, then who will? 

Tuesday, December 14, 2010


On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me

Eleven days in London
Ten nights in Paris
Nine dozen books
Eight Birkin bags
Seven Hermes scarves
Six cuff bracelets
Johnny Depp, Beck, and George Clooney
Four landscapers
Three Maytag appliances
Two storm doors
And a handy man with no plumber butt.

Monday, December 13, 2010


 On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me

Ten nights in Paris
Nine dozen books
Eight Birkin bags
Seven Hermes scarves
Six cuff bracelets
Johnny Depp, Beck, and George Clooney
Four landscapers
Three Maytag appliances
Two storm doors
And a handy man with no plumber butt.

Saturday, December 11, 2010


On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me

Nine dozen books
Eight Birkin bags
Seven Hermes scarves
Six cuff bracelets
Johnny Depp, Beck, and George Clooney
Four landscapers
Three Maytag appliances
Two storm doors
And a handy man with no plumber butt.

Friday, December 10, 2010


On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me

Eight Birkin bags
Seven Hermes scarves
Six cuff bracelets
Johnny Depp, Beck, and George Clooney
Four landscapers
Three Maytag appliances
Two storm doors
And a Handy Man with no plumber butt.

Thursday, December 9, 2010


On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me

Seven Hermes scarves
Six cuff bracelets
Johnny Depp, Beck, and George Clooney
Four landscapers
Three Maytag appliances
Two storm doors
And a handy man with no plumber butt.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010


Gentle Readers,

I must interrupt my Christmas Wish List because of the passing of Elizabeth Edwards, who looked forward to death only because she could once again be with her son Wade. I know she hated to leave her other children.

Elizabeth is a woman who overcame much -- the loss of her oldest child, living with breast cancer right up until the moment it took her life, a cheating pig husband, a cheating pig husband .  . . oops I guess I said that twice.

Are you happy now John?

I'll be surprised if you actually marry the bimbo who had your child, or maybe I won't be. God only knows what you'll do and He will judge you for it. But I don't think it will be long before you move a new woman into the family home, a new woman for your children to tolerate, because you are a lying, cheating pig. You remind me a bit of Ted Hughes.

No love for John, but Elizabeth: You ruled.


Tuesday, December 7, 2010


On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me

Six cuff bracelets
Johnny Depp, Beck, and George Clooney
Four landscapers
Three Maytag appliances
Two storm doors
And a handy man with no plumber butt.

Monday, December 6, 2010


On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me

Johnny Depp


And George Clooney

Four landscapers
Three Maytag appliances
Two storm doors
And a handy man with no plumber butt.

Sunday, December 5, 2010


On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me

Four landscapers (chant on one note - to put in a pump so I'll have no more puddles of tadpoles in my backyard that are followed by frogs, flies, boils, and the rest of the seven plagues; to put in grass in the backyard because the grass that was there was destroyed by the puddles and the tadpoles; and to make the grass in the front yard lush and - drop one octave - proud)
Three Maytag appliances
Two storm doors
And a handy man with no plumber butt. 

Friday, December 3, 2010


Gentle Readers,

Before we continue with today's portion of Lola's Twelve Days of Christmas, I'd like to recommend the perfect gift:  The Amazon Gift Card Sent By Email, which you can also send by Facebook or print out and hand to someone. Or buy an actual Amazon Gift Card and tuck it in some lucky person's stocking or Christmas card. In case you haven't noticed, I loves me my books. Oh, and my sister says to get Barbra Streisand's My Passion for Design. There's also a Deluxe Limited Edition, in case you're a bit of a big spender. Anyway, it's not a good idea to cross my big sister, so I recommend you follow her recommendation.

Now, what will my true love give me next?

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Three Maytag appliances (washer, dryer, dishwasher)
Two storm doors
And a handy man with no plumber butt.

And if the handy man gets really handy and uses his hands just right, it could lead to a holy night of Christmas bliss.

Infinities of love,


Thursday, December 2, 2010


On the Second Day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Two storm doors
And a handy man with no plumber butt.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010


Gentle Readers,

Please remain gentle and don't hate me because I'm almost done with my Christmas shopping.

But who will shop for Lola? Poor, poor Lola, who used to receive diamonds and rubies and emeralds and sapphires and a gorgeous (faux cuz I won't wear little animals) fur coat and clothes galore from the Nieman Marcus store and Sax Fifth Avenue laid out the red carpet especially for shoppers who said, I'm here to buy a gift for Lola.

Who will give Lola a Christmas gift?

Well, just in case you are in the mood to shop for Lola, I shall use the Twelve Days of Christmas as my Wish List. Here we go with Day One:

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me

So, there. We have a good beginning. Each day for twelve days, counting today, I shall tell you what you can give me if you want to be my true love.

And always remember, whatever Lola wants, Lola gets.

Infinities of love,


Tuesday, November 30, 2010


Gentle Readers,

One evening when I was about 12 years old, my dad and I were sitting next to each other on the couch watching TV and my mom was in a chair next to us. My dad and I each had one foot up on the coffee table. At the same moment, we noticed the hilarious juxtaposition of his huge foot next to my rather tiny one. We started to laugh. Mother told us to be quiet and we laughed harder. Daddy said, But Mummy look . . .

And she said, Shut the hell up. I'm trying to watch television.

She missed out on a funny moment, but I'm glad my dad and I didn't.

Infinities of love,


Monday, November 29, 2010


Gentle Readers,

Please explain to me why so many people believe in UFOs and visits from creatures from other planets and some crazy-ass folks even think the creatures from other planets have taken them to their spaceships and probed them. From what I've heard, these are quite common beliefs, and I don't get it. Are all these people idiots and/or crazy?

I can think of all sorts of explanations for believing you've been a visitor to a spaceship.You're sound asleep and you have a dream so strong that when you wake up you believe the dream has actually occurred and you can't shake it off. I've never dreamed that I was on a spaceship, but I've certainly had dreams and nightmares that seemed very, very real to me at the time. I can't remember what I was dreaming about this morning; I just remember that it seemed to be happening in my waking life -- and then the phone rang and the events that seemed to be happening went poof. If the phone hadn't awakened me so suddenly, I probably would have spent more time thinking the dream was reality. I've even heard noises in my dreams, like alarms going off, but the noise only occurred in my dream.

As for the probing, maybe your spouse did a little fooling around while you were asleep and you were the fool aroundee. Or maybe you have hemorrhoids. The possibilities are endless.

Another possibility is that some people have watched too many movies and TV shows about the paranormal and it's confused them. And maybe they're a bit delusional. Hey, I've been married and I've worked in the healthcare field: I know delusions.

As for the many people who think they see UFOs, do I have a story for you. In the place where I used to live, an air base was close by. We were driving along the highway near the base one evening and there above the trees was some sort of hovercraft. Fascinating. We had never seen such a thing before, and we knew it was an experimental aircraft.

I remember hearing on some TV show that all these people reported seeing a UFO, I think it took off from the airport in Chicago or whatever, and lots of people called the police and reporters called government officials and they denied having experimental aircraft taking off. Well, of course they deny it. It's an experiment. They aren't going to give away the details until they can unveil this wonderful new aircraft - or maybe they will never unveil their wonderful new aircraft because they actually want to keep it a secret so they can pick up every man I ever dated or married and probe him before flying him straight to the moon Alice.

Infinities of love,


Sunday, November 28, 2010


Gentle Ladies and Gents,

I come to you today with a pet peeve: I do not like, I detest, I absolutely abhor the leaving of shopping carts in the parking lot.

Now that doesn't mean I'll be irritated if you leave your cart in the cart return center that most parking lots have. That's fine.

But gol' darn it, and I am warning you but good, DO NOT LEAVE YOUR CART IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LOT. It's rude. It's obnoxious. Carts sometimes take off on their own and hit cars or attempt to run down little old ladies or small children. Furthermore, they're usually in a spot that prohibits someone from pulling into a parking space, and at this time of year,

So beware, beware. If you're going to take a cart out out, then be prepared to put it back back. It will not hurt you to walk a few extra steps to the cart return or to take the cart back into the store, where it's all ready for another shopper to use. Even better, when you arrive at the store, help out someone who is unloading a cart and offer to take the cart for that person and give first consideration to the elderly and people with small children.

But do not take the cart until they are finished unloading. A word to the wise.

By the way, just want to mention that the search terms gentle readers use to find my message center appear on my Stats page. A recent search that led to lovely Lola was How To Prevent Foot Fetishism. Hmmmmm - must have come up because of Franklin's great and enduring love for my feet. I found one of my socks in the back yard recently - filthy and soaking wet and very much loved.

Infinities of love,


Saturday, November 27, 2010


Gentle Readers,

Have you noticed that more and more men are partaking of the comb back, or am I so oblivious to what goes on around me that I didn't see it until algore did it?

Men have done the comb over for years - you know, comb the wisps of hair left on the side over the bald spot on top. Kind of sad and the butt of many jokes.

But now men also do the comb back. I realized this was occurring because algore and Tipper once visited Favorite Young Woman's prep school for a football game. Al III was quarterback for the other team; they lost.

I was in reportorial mode at the time and al was running for president. I wanted an interview so desperately that I would have eaten dirt to get it. But, no. al and Tipper were there for the game and nothing but the game and they wouldn't even give a 5-minute interview to the school paper and if they had I probably would have killed the student reporter and absconded with his pitiful little notes.

So after F.Y.W.'s sporting event, we hung around the football field, waiting for the automaton to arrive. Some black cars with tinted windows approached and the guys who never take off their sun glasses got out and then al and Tipper came out. Some people applauded and called out greetings and when algore turned around to wave I noticed that he had quite the circular bald spot at the back of the top of his head. I thought, Oh my - algore is going bald.

Then when algore started doing all of his save the Earth stuff even though he lives in a gigantic mansion that uses all sorts of energy and leaves a carbon footprint bigger than the old bald spot, I noticed that al had started doing a comb back. Yes, he was taking the hair left in the front and letting it grow kind of long and then I suppose putting a bunch of gel on it to keep it in place over the bald spot, which no doubt has grown over the years at the same rate al's waistline has expanded.

But then I started noticing some other men doing the comb back.

Is this a trend? Explanation, please.

Infinities of love,


Friday, November 26, 2010


Gentle Readers,

Here we be at 200+ posts. When I reached #100, I did not know about the blogging tradition of revealing 100 things about yourself. Had I known, you probably would have fallen asleep by #9.

So, I most certainly will not reveal 200 things about myself. How about two instead?

1. "She fell from the sky, she fell very far, and Kansas she says is the name of the star. (Munchkins) - Kansas she says is the name of the star." Yes, it is true: I fell from a star called Kansas and from the time I was 21 I fell from star after star after star to various places.

2. I have allergies and sometimes when I laugh, snot shoots out my nose.

New Gentle Readers are always welcome here, and if you write, I will gladly create links to your blog (unless it's really trashy and dirty and then I might keep it all to myself).

Infinities of love on Black Friday,


Thursday, November 25, 2010


Gentle Readers,

If you don't understand the meaning of my title, then you never watched Sex and the City.

And if you never watched Sex and the City, then you haven't had as much fun and laughter in your life as you could have.

I think those of us who watched faithfully tend to relate more strongly to one of our four friends. As a writer, I suppose I should be Carrie, but I'm not. I long to be Samantha, but in my heart of hearts, I know I'm Charlotte. A coworker once said to me, Lola, what are you doing here? You seem like the prissy type who wouldn't have to work.

Yup, that's me -- Charlotte. I could go on and on about the similarities between our sex lives, but let's not go there.

Anyway, Sex and The City 2 is now out on DVD and I watched it last night. It's not brilliant, but it's certainly better than Sex and The City: The Movie. The first movie didn't make sense half the time. It was a fashion show featuring fur and we are not talking faux. I have no idea how many little animals died to make that movie.

Sex and The City 2 still has all the gorgeous clothes, minus the fur, but it has more of a plot. It was even amusing on occasion.

Samantha Jones: [to Charlotte] Everyone knows you don't hire a hot nanny, it's the law! 
Carrie Bradshaw: Yeah, Jude Law. 

I was pleasantly surprised when Liza Minelli turned out to be the officiant and entertainment at Stanford and Anthony's wedding and it wasn't stupid and annoying. But why is Charlotte wearing a vintage Valentino skirt while making cupcakes in the kitchen with her little girls? And why is she so exhausted and miserable when she has a full-time nanny? Why does Samantha behave so badly in the United Arab Emirates? I know it's Samantha, but Samantha is intelligent enough to know better than to flaunt her body in that part of the world. And why does Carrie . . . Oh, that's enough. I'll let you watch it for yourself.

I must say, however, that they never should have let Jason Lewis (Smith Jared) go. He's barely in the second movie, and he's such marvelous eye candy. I really enjoyed his relationship with Samantha during the last season or so of the TV show, but the TV show was a different, funnier Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda world. I miss those women.

Infinities of love,