Monday, October 31, 2011


     I wanted to scream trick or treat the other night on my date.  As in is this a trick?  I thought that getting wine should be a treat, as in you Mr. Date would treat me to my wine--not so. We met at a wine bar for drinks.  Drinks only.  (As an aside, I’d like to mention that the wine bar served free chees appetizers that night.)  We each had 2 glasses of wine (Yes I realize this date fell during my 21 Day Challenge when alcohol was forbidden but I scrapped the rules in lieu of living my life and going on a normal date…but was it really that normal?). When the check came my date asked the waiter to put part of our wine tab on one credit card—his work credit card and the other portion of our wine tab on his personal credit card. You see, my date’s company allows him to expense up to $25 on non-meal items (apparently, like the wine you drink on first dates).  So my date figured out the bill and how he was going to expense our date—excuse me, part of our date—to his company.  He calculated the bill so that it came up as $23 on his work credit card—he didn’t want to make it too close to $25, because the company would figure it out. 
     Figure it out?  How about you figure this out—it’s tacky to cheap out on the first date.  My two glasses of wine for $20 were too expensive for you that you had to expense it?  Really?  I'll tell you what was worth the $20, the time and effort it took me to get ready for that date and walk there in the rain.  My eye makeup was perfect that night.  Absolutely perfect.  
     This surprised me.  But hey I guess I’m getting the bottom of the barrel since I’m still dating at 35.  Funny thing—my friend who set Mr. Expense Account and me up mentioned that one of her worst first dates happened when the guy asked her to choose where they were going to eat dinner from an array of coupons he fanned out in front of her like a hand of cards in a game of Go Fish.  I haven’t told her about this expense account business.  But I consider it akin to making one choose a coupon for dinner. 

Sunday, October 30, 2011


     I've been meaning to write about my family's (really my Dad's) passion for Apple computers since Steve Jobs died a couple weeks ago.  So even though this post is late, it's better late than never.
     When Dad brought home our first computer, we were one of the only families on our block that had a Macintosh computer.  But it was the only kind of computer he'd even consider buying.  Dad liked the sleek look, he liked the features, and he really liked the different.  That's what Macs were--different.
     We continued on that streak with more Macs, iMacs, and now Mac Book Pros.  I'll admit to deviating from that Apple lineage twice--once in college for a Macintosh clone and then in law school for a laptop that was a PC.  But I eventually saw the light and came back to all things Apple.
     I don't think Dad even knew how to operate a PC.  So that's saying something Apple.  You hooked one guy and he did a good job getting his family to stay true to you too.

Saturday, October 29, 2011


     Well my Mr. Peanut costume is no longer a wish.  Thanks to my dear friend, who sewed it herself, it's come to life.  I'll be wearing it tonight to a costume party.  I've got all the accessories: top hat, white gloves, spats and monocle.  Now I just need to find a cane in the next couple of hours and we're good to go!

Friday, October 28, 2011


     Nowadays, many of us put our whole lives on display.  Exhibit A: this blog.  Exhibit B: using social media sites.  Now that’s all well and good when I personally control the content; but when someone posts on my Facebook wall something that I for one consider to be a private message then don’t be mad when I promptly (Ok, I didn’t delete it immediately.  It took a day.  I complained to my sister about it, who suggested I delete it and then went on to explain why she’s not on Facebook.  Did I mention she’s a lot smarter than me?  Well she is.) delete it. 
     I’m not sure if it’s a cultural thing or not.  Either way my Indian relatives are very blunt.  Exhibit C: a cousin of mine recently posted a message on my Facebook wall saying something close to the following “it’s nice to see these pictures of you.  But you’re always around other girls.  Never any boys.  When are you going to find someone to marry and settle down?” 
     Excuse me?  Who writes that on someone’s public wall?  Did she think that was a nice message?  I found it rude and a tad embarrassing.  She couldn’t have saved it for an email message or a private Facebook message or not written it at all.  Part of me wanted to retort with a snarky response or write back that I’m a lesbian, which for the record I am not.  Instead, I quietly deleted the post and vented about it in this blog. That’s what I call healthy and controlling my situation. 
     And for anyone who cares, I had a date last night.  To keep it real, I disobeyed the rules of this 21 Day Challenge/Cleanse (praise be to G-d, that I’m on Day 19) and drank alcohol. Two glasses of wine thank you very much.  Plus, I had a date on Tuesday night as well.  So yes there are guys around, they’re just not in my pictures.  I mean who takes a camera on a first or second date—disregard the one on your phone.  You know what I mean.  Imagine taking a picture of all your first dates.  Or all your fifth dates.  Or your twenty third dates (unless it’s a special occasion, costume party, wedding, you get the drift).  It’s just plain weird. 
     So why do you and your girlfriends take pictures at all the events that would be the equivalent of fifth dates if we were with a guy you may ask.  Because we do.  We just do.

Thursday, October 27, 2011


     I own three pairs of rain boots and don't live in a particularly wet climate,  I purchased my first pair, a cheapie, black, short pair, not for rain, but for my first trip to Mardi Gras in an effort to protect my feet while stepping in or trying to avoid stepping in other people's vomit, urine, beer slosh and hurricane juice.  Result--those little black rain boots worked like a charm.  They're oh so easy to clean off.
     The second pair came from London.  Who doesn't buy a pair of hunter green, sleek Marc Jacobs, rain boots with a heel for 75% off in July at Harvey Nichols?  Ummmmmmmm, no one can pass up that fashion deal.  However, I'd like to point out that my sister rolled her eyes at me and gave me the "don't-you-complain-how-heavy-your-bag-is" look when I started to whine about how my shoulder hurt from carrying my precious boots all around Piccadilly Circus.
     My third pair of rain boots are fire engine red and were a Target special.  Literally.  I bought them on sale at Target, mostly because they were cute and red and definitely not because I needed them.
     so who needs three pairs of rain boots, even though she lives in Dallas?  A girl who's Dad loved Paddington bear and told us to always be prepared--contingency plan, he called it.
     Can you tell it's raining here in Dallas today?  I wore my red boots to work--everyone loved them.  And I'm wearing my green ones tonight to go out because they're fancy!

Wednesday, October 26, 2011


     Would now be a good time to mention the World Series?  I do live in Dallas for crying out loud.  The energy in this city feels amazing right now.  We've been lucky to see the Mavs win the NBAChampionship and to host the Super Bowl all in 2011.  And hopefully the Rangers will win tomorrow night!

Tuesday, October 25, 2011


     Yesterday, I entered a cookie contest--to be a guest judge of the contest.  Here's my contest essay:

I’d love to be a judge for this year’s The Dallas Morning News-Central Market Holiday Cookie Contest.  The top 3 reasons you should select me to help judge the cookies are:
1.    I’m a real live cookie monster, but prefer the moniker “cookie connoisseur.”  Additionally, I’m flesh and bone, not blue fur.  Since I know all of the local cookie shops, I’d like to experience tasting cookies baked by Dallasites and see how well they fare compared to the store-bought treats I usually eat.
2.    When people think of holiday cookies, most people think about Christmas.  But I’m Jewish.  Sometimes I feel left out of typical holiday traditions and getting to be a judge for the cookie contest would allow me to be a part of something in a different, fun and delicious way.
3.    I'm currently on Day 15 of a 21 Day food challenge in which I can eat no sugar.  I’m craving cookies like nobody’s business.  My palate has been cleansed and I’m ready to judge!
I look forward to hearing from you and joining the contest as a guest judge.  It would be an honor to be a part of the contest.
I wonder if I'll win...

Monday, October 24, 2011


     Who knew Dallas had fog.  I had an eerie drive to work this morning.  Dense fog covered my entire route.  I didn't feel like I was in Dallas.  Rather, it felt like the cast of a vampire movie.  So creepy.  Yet cool at the same time.
     Did you know London doesn't really have that much fog?  (Thank you MAd Men for that bit of trivia.  can we please get to 2012 already?--when we'll get to see new episodes of that show?  I miss it!)  The fog that used to engulf London came from pollution instead of weather and now, due to clean air act rules, there's not much fog at all.  Plus, London Fog (the coat company) was a company started in the U.S. and originally called Londontown clothing company.  

Sunday, October 23, 2011


     My mom wasn't the best driver.  Or that's what my dad said about her.  In fact he was pretty relentless about it.  That was his thing to tease her about--not driving well and getting her license as an adult.
     Mommy grew up in Brooklyn, NY and never had to drive anywhere.  She took the subway or walked to all of her destinations.  So she didn't get her driver's license until she was married, lived in Ohio and was twenty-four (or thereabouts).
     Imagine getting your license at twenty-four.  It'd be strange.  Super strange.  And probably a bit scary.  The deck was stacked against her as she learned to drive as an adult and it became fodder for my dad's jokes.
     I'll admit noticing she was a bit of a nervous driver.  But I never thought she was a bad driver.  Dad perpetuated that myth to the point where it became unfair.  It's not really your fault or your bad driving if a rock, kicked up by an eighteen wheeler, hits your windshield and crakes it.  However, that wasn't the case in my house growing up.  You broke it, you bought it was basically my dad's motto.  More like, I think you broke it, so you broke it.  That's how Dad decided it was Mom's fault that the Honda's windshield cracked.            
     That's also how Dad decided that I caused his Nissan's flat tire.  You see I'd convinced the neighborhood kids to help me build a clubhouse.  We'd find pieces of wood in various empty lots, drag them to the side of my house and start nailing them together in a ramshackle fashion.  We never completed the clubhouse.  If we had, it would have been pretty sad--a one room shack with no place to move around. We would've all been standing in that clubhouse shoulder to shoulder.  It would have been tiny.  Good thing I didn't go into architecture.
     Anyway, back to how Dad's flat tire was my fault.  Well, I used nails to build the clubhouse, so naturally a nail caused Dad's flat.  It doesn't really help my case that he found some nails spilled on the floor of our garage right around the time of the flat.  But (now) as a lawyer, I'd like to point out there were many other places a nail could've been on the streets or parking lots Dad frequented.  But I'll give up now, because it was my fault, almost like the shattered windshield was Mom's fault.  That's just the way it was.

Saturday, October 22, 2011


     I bought a white faux fur cape or caplet today.  I don't know much but I do know the following:

1.  I have no where to where this super soft article of clothing.

2.  My sister will hate it, make fun of it, make fun of me, accuse me of having too many real fur items and faux fur items and then will ask when will the insanity end.

3.  I was going for ski bunny chic even though I detest skiing (thanks to that guy I dated who I made the mistake of going skiing with--umm he had a ski house; but who puts a novice (as in never skied before) on a blue run and expects her to be happy about it?  What should have taken 20 to 25 minutes took 3 hours and all I kept doing was flipping him off under my mittens, while he helped me down the mountain with another friend of ours.  Good part to the story, I didn't cry, give up or acquiesce to the ski patrol, I made it down the blue hill that he told me was a green.  What a liar.  Yes, I have some unresolved anger towards that individual.)

4.  I will find somewhere to wear this white fur cape if it's the last thing I do...but probably not tonight, it's still 85 degrees in Dallas!

5.  The next time you see me I will likely be wearing my white furry friend.

Friday, October 21, 2011


     Question of the day: why did Gaddafi go by Colonel Gaddafi?  He was really only a Lieutenant.  But why'd he choose to be known as a colonel after seizing power?  Why not a major general?--a higher rank at least.  Weird.

Thursday, October 20, 2011


     I had jury duty this morning in Metro court.  I actually went there with a good attitude hoping to be pleasantly surprised.  Maybe it was a movie I saw, I don't think it was real people, but it could of been...
Anyway, this couple met during jury duty.   And one of the guy's gifts to the girl was their jury duty summonses framed.  Ok, I'm more certain now that it was in a movie.
     Well no such luck.  No tall, dark, handsome stranger in my jury duty.  What I did get was a woman who felt the need to talk on her cell phone all morning while we waited to see if we would be picked.  Isn't there a code she violated?  Some sort of jury room manners?  I think so.  Who wants to hear a one-sided conversation?  Why would you be so rude?  I mean we were all busy doing our own work or reading.  Ok, fine, or trying to take a nap.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011


     You've done it, admit it.  You've Google stalked someone.  I just did.  Literally.  A friend of mine texted me yesterday about a great guy she knows an asked if I was single and wanted to be set up.  I said yes I am and sure, why not.  This friend has good taste and I trust her.  But it didn't stop me from looking up the guy.  I Googled him.  To be accurate it should really be called Google stalking.
     Anyway, I (stalked) looked this guy up.  And shortly after I Googled him, he emailed me about meeting out for a date next week.  So the question is, do I act surprised when the topic of where we went to grad school comes up and he tells me where he went, which happens to be the same school I attended?  Or do I admit that I already knew because I'd already searched him before the date?  Quandary.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011


     Isn't it the best feeling to brag about how someone you love is so wonderful?  I got to do that today when I bragged about my sister.  I love doing that.  I'm so proud of her and so lucky to have her as my sister.  Getting to tell people about her warms my heart.  What a good day.

Monday, October 17, 2011


     I failed to mention that last week when I started this 21 Day cleanse, food challenge, whatever you want to call it, I also started a month of unlimited suspension training classes or TRX.  Who knew you you could sweat so much in 30 minutes?  I had no idea.
     The classes are only 30 minutes long, which is wonderful for the workout you get.  But the amount of sweat I produce and the pain my muscles feel after each class never ceases to amaze me.  It's super sweaty and it's painful.  Literally ouch.
     TRX is almost as sweaty as the woman I played in tennis this weekend.  Before every one of her serves, even second serves, she had to wipe down.  And I mean a full wipe down, not just wiping her brow.  She was ridiculous.  And on change overs she was panting and heavy breathing like you couldn't imagine.  she took so long on change overs, my partner and I should have started timing her since the rules only allow 2 minutes max.  when my partner asked her, what are you doing over there "primping?" as a joke, she replied, no "I just perspire a lot."
     There's a big difference between perspiring and sweating.  That lady was sweating.  There was no perspiring about it.  She may have wanted to act like a lady or use a ladylike word like perspire, but that's not what she was doing.  And that's not what I'm doing in a TRX class either.  I'm sweating.  Just call it what it is.  Please.

Sunday, October 16, 2011


     I went to the Texas State Fair today a/k/a the place where anything and everything is fried.  You drop so much money just walking in that place, it's amazing.  We walked around, saw some carneys, played a couple games, watched flying dogs and decided we didn't really need to come back for another couple of years.

Saturday, October 15, 2011


     I remember seeing Footloose (the original) in the movie theater.  I had the soundtrack too--on a cassette.  It pains me to have to have to call it "the original."  Don't get me wrong, I love a good dance movie.  I just saw the Footloose remake and liked it.  But it saddened me to have to see the remake.  What happened to leaving good enough alone?  Not to mention how it ages me and all my friends.

Friday, October 14, 2011


     It's day 5 of my 21 day food challenge and I'm the poster girl for the anti-Chick-fil-A campaign.  The meals I've received all have chicken in them.  Even the snacks.  I thought the whitish cubes with apple and orange slices were cheese--no such luck.  They were chicken cubes.  Chicken cubes!  Who eats those for a snack?  Ugg.

Thursday, October 13, 2011


     I know this sounds terrible, but I'm going to say it anyway.  I attended a women's networking event tonight and one of the women started talking about how her elderly mother just had surgery.  Then another woman talked about her grandma being sick and then another talked about the decision to put her mother in an assisted living facility or to try and get her to move to Dallas to be closer to family.  
     I smiled, nodded and provided sympathetic comments.  But in the back of my mind I felt relieved.  Since both of my parents died young, I'll never have to see them age.  I'll never have to make hard decisions about assisted living or worry about broken hips.  And while I wish each and every day to have my parents back with me, in a twisted way I'm grateful I won't have to go through what the women I met tonight are going through.  

Wednesday, October 12, 2011


     As a seasoned dater, a pro if you will (not that I take any pride in that, really I don't), I didn't act like one  the other night.  I had a blind date and agreed to meeting him for dinner.  Worst idea ever.  We met at the restaurant.  I sat down at the bar to join him and wait the 30 minutes for our table--this was a no reservations place, another no-no.
     Why did he pick a fight with me and argue with me during the first 7 minutes of our date?  Well he did.  I should've said "hey, look, this isn't going to work out if we're already fighting so let's scrap dinner," but I felt bad and decided to suffer through the rest of the date.  It just got worse.  Long, uncomfortable silences and me looking around, pretending to be interested in a football game playing on tv.
     The worst part is that I know better.  No dinner dates for the first date!  Always drinks or coffee.  Get in, get out, and be done.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011


     There's a full moon tonight.  Have you heard that old wives tale that if you cut your hair on a full moon it will grow faster?  Well, I grew up scheduling my haircuts around this myth.  So I couldn't tell you if my hair ever grew faster than cutting it on a crescent moon day, I had no frame of reference.
     Nowadays, I don't worry about the moon when I make my hair appointments.  It has more to do with whether I can get a comb through my hair and if I can't it's time for a trim.  But the full moon method was much more fun.

Monday, October 10, 2011


     I've never been on a diet before, but I started a 21 day food challenge today to try and eat healthier.  The company makes all the food and I pick it up twice a week.  I didn't realize there was a "cleansing drink" I have to drink every morning.  But there is.  There's nothing tasty about drinking apple cider vinegar.  And for the record I'm fully aware that I may have joined a cult.  I mean who eats like this all the time?  Oh and there's no drinking alcohol.  I'd actually rather eat dessert or candy over alcohol, so that doesn't bother me as much.  But no sweets--that's going to be tough.  But then again I gave up dessert for Lent last year when I was dating this Catholic guy to see what it would be like to give something up for that long, and it wasn't as bad as I thought.  Anyway, I hope to make the full 21 days.  Thank goodness I'm allowed 1 cheat meal a week.  Countdown:  Day 1 is almost over.

Sunday, October 9, 2011


     Well it's Sunday, time for mixed doubles again.  This week I received the privilege of playing with a male chauvinist partner.  When he asked me what side I preferred, I said it didn't matter.  He said he's better at forehand, so I assumed he'd play forehand--because we decided he would.  But no, then he proceeded to have a discussion of all the times he's ever played forehand.  And again asked me what side I preferred and which one I was better at.  I couldn't handle another deep conversion about ground stokes so I told him plainly, "I'm pretty good at both."  That shocked him.  
     As we're walking on the court he asks me how I want to play, up or back.  I looked at him and said "the regular way--regular doubles formation."  Then he starts to have another conversation about needing to know what I liked to play better the net or groundstrokes.  Oh dear.  So I told him, "I like playing the net."  But that I typically like to see how the first couple of points go before I decide to rush the net.  
     We FINALLY started to play and I proved how good my strokes were and that I could play net.  My partner was shocked, again and gasped a "wow" when I hit a winner.  And when the lady on our opponents' team started acing him with her serves he couldn't believe a woman could play that well.  
     Guess what homes, we can, and we do.  And you're not that good of a player.  Plus, you're not that good of a guy either.  Team captain, I ask of you please schedule me to play with anyone else on the team.  Anyone else.

Saturday, October 8, 2011


     I'm still fasting and am very hungry.  But looking on the bright side I'll be at the Taylor Swift concert soon and then I'll get to eat.  That's a first--breaking fast at a concert!  This is one of those days I wish my sister lived here.  She would have loved to go to the concert with me.  I'm going with a friend and I know we'll have a great time, but sometimes I just miss my sister.

Friday, October 7, 2011


     Today at sundown Jews begin to observe Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, when you ask for forgiveness for all of your sins from the year before.  It's 24 hours of praying and fasting.  I was talking about it with someone recently and she asked what about all of those people who owe you an apology, but never do?   What about all of those people who have hurt you and never sought atonement for their actions? What about them?  My guess is that a rabbi would tell you to forgive them even if they never asked you for forgiveness or offered an apology.  That's a tall order to get your head around.  A really tall order.  Even if you can find a way to forgive those people, why would you want them in your life after that?  I need to think about it some more, which is what this reflection period is probably all about...

Thursday, October 6, 2011


     I signed up for the Spartan 8 mile run.  It's a mud run with other obstacles.  What was I thinking?  The most I've ever run is 5 miles.  But I'm going to do it and so are 2 of my friends.  I've even started to get ready for it--I took a Tread and Shred class at the gym today.  4 miles!  Ok so some of it was walking, but it was walking on a 12 degree incline.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011


     The smell of fabric softener on someone's clothes makes me like them.  Something about that fresh smell makes that person seem like he or she is well taken care of...whatever it is it's comforting to me.
     But nowadays with all this Luon and air wicking fabric you're not supposed to use fabric softener.  That good smelling, concentrated liquid ruins the effect of the moisture wicking fabric.  What a whip.  Oh, and I've also noticed that fabric softener makes my bath towels less absorbent.  So never mind me using fabric softener on those items, I'll just have to sniff it out on someone else.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011


     I love goody bags.  No I mean I really love goody bags.  I'll go to an event just for a good bag.  In fact I went to an event a couple years ago and they gave the goody bags at the start of the party--who does that?
Where was I supposed to put it?  Thank goodness the event was at a hotel.  I checked my goody bag with the concierge.  My date was horrified and acted like that couldn't be done.  Umm, a goody bag can count as luggage.  Giving the concierge my good bag to hold until the end of the night was just like me giving the concierge my coat at the coat check?  Who's with me?

Monday, October 3, 2011


     My doubles tennis partner's body odor distracted me yesterday.  I'm not kidding when I say I could smell it before I even walked on the court, and we were playing outdoors.  Now, come on, that's bad B.O.  Really bad.  Our changes overs were the worst, I didn't want to sit next to him or strategize.  I just wanted to towel off and get some water without dry heaving.
     In addition to the smell, a girl playing on the court next to us wasn't wearing proper tennis wear.  We were at tennis, not yoga.  Why was she wearing a too small yoga top with her tennis skirt?  She didn't have any support and was flopping around all over the place, in addition to showing half her stomach.  If I knew who she was I'd encourage her to read about proper undergarments from Day 15.  Jeez Louise, all I wanted to do was play my tennis match.

Sunday, October 2, 2011


     When Mom dropped me off for my first day of first grade in Mrs. Johnson's class at Hubert Humphrey Elementary I couldn't stop crying. I cried and cried, until another girl in my class came up to me.  Her name was Celeste.  She said "I'll be your friend."  And that was that.  That was all it took.  I stopped crying, started to put away my school supplies in my desk and knew I had a new friend.  First grade was going to be ok.  
     I saw Celeste yesterday while I was home.  It was so great to see her.  And all these years later we're still friends.  Even though we hadn't seen each other in 6 years, we started from where we left off and it was the same as always.  That's how it is with first grade friends, they're yours for forever...well at least that's how it is with mine.

Saturday, October 1, 2011


     In Albuquerque for the Balloon Fiesta...CHECK

     Woke up at 5am to see the weather balloons and get to Balloon Fiesta Park on time...CHECK

     Ate a funnel cake and drank hot cocoa at 6am...CHECK

     Was present at 7am for the Mass Ascension...CHECK

     Took lots and lots of pictures...CHECK

     Made my sister take lots and lots of pictures of me posing in front of special shape balloons...CHECK


     But feel like it was totally worth it...CHECK

     There's no place like home...CHECK CHECK CHECK CHECK CHECK INFINITY