Hamptons Summer, Farewell

end of Hamptons summer

The Hamptons summer is over. Another chapter scribbled into to the comic book of life and Dan’s Papers.

The official conclusion of a Hamptons summer is marked by the Tuesday after Labor Day, known as ‘Tumbleweed Tuesday’.

end of hamptons summer tumbleweeds

Do I have to explain everything? The rest of the stragglers, hanger ‘onners roll outa’ here as if they were tumbleweeds! Hence the phrase ‘Tumbleweed Tuesday’. Oy vey!

We local folk are like, thank you, and leave now! We had enough of the traffic, the attitude (‘tude’), crowds, yada yada yada.

And Just Like That…

And just like that, summer is over. So sad. Not really.

When the summer peeps roll out of the Hamptons, it is like loosing your bloat after a menstrual cycle.

Girlfriends, ya know what I am talkin’ ‘bout! It’s like hallelujah, I can finally fit in those pants again!

Now that summer peeps are ensconced in NYC, I can finally score a dinner reservation at the posh restaurant Bistro Ete and make a left hand turn onto Montauk Highway.

Thank you summer peeps for not being here!

Hamptons Summer Memories

As I reflect on my summer of 2022, here are just a few quintessential Hamptons moments I will share with y’all.

COVID, Hamptons Summer Style

Well, we all thought COVID was over, but I got COVID in June. Despite getting four vaccines, having a great immune system, still got it.

That she-devil COVID decided to hang out with me in the Hamptons for the better part of the summer. You know what I am talking about. I am cool with any guest staying a few days, but for several weeks with no end in sight? COVID knows no boundaries.

COVID is a horrible house guest. That girl is a user and a taker. She sapped all the energy from me… I was exhausted from hosting her. She just barged into my life, unannounced. What a Biatch! She used me to stay in the glamorous Hamptons for a summer experience. Her plan was to invade the Hamptons and party every night. Boy, that girl has big balls!

Not on my watch Sistah! I caught her right away, and never let her out of the house.

And I ask you…Why me? I did everything for her. Let her sleep as long as she needed; did not ask her to help around the house; and I fed her great meals. And you ask, what did she do for me? That biatch gave me post-COVID migraine headaches that promptly started every day, for several weeks at 5pm. NO cocktails for Gay. I was drowning my pain and agony in Excedrin for Migraine Headaches with Advil chasers.

That Biatch finally lost her hold on me…and she packed up and left. I was just shy of getting an exorcism.

Share the Hamptons Summer Roads

Nobody, no one shares the road during a Hamptons Summer. Cyclists, bicycle riders, runners, joggers, walkers and cars do not share the road. It is all about ‘me me me’, losing weight, and fittin’ into that speedo.

Who knew the Hamptons attracted so many weekend warriors who take to the streets! The sheer number of fitness enthusiasts are staggering! So many Hamptons peeps are passionate about breaking a sweat. Go figure…

There are the fitness peeps – the runners (not joggers) and the cyclists (not bike riders). The runners and cyclists are athletes – they are on a mission. They are determined to get their mileage logged in for the day. They are on the road early, so as to avoid getting hit by a car. Smart.

The bike riders, who I fondly call ‘idiots on bikes’, and the walkers, are herded together side by side as if they were in a parade. They pretend to be blissfully ignorant of the line-up of Range Rovers, Ferraris and Bentleys trailing behind them.

Just a battle of egos… these are the same peeps who did not share their toys in Kindergarten. I did not like them then, and I don’t like them now.

Bid Adieu

On Tumbleweed Tuesday, we bid a fond adieu to our neighbors. The Hamptons roads are less congested, which is such a relief. However, the skies are filled with helicopters akin to taxis, taking all the summer folks back to the city. And of course the flight pattern is over my house.

Excuse me? Drive back to NYC in all that traffic with the peasants?

See y’all next summer!

Dropped Uterus!

A Woman and her Cats

Dear Dr. Frankenstein,

I just learned a new fun fact about aging. Did you know that a woman’s uterus can drop? Like fall out of your body?

OMG, I almost peed in my pants when I heard this. Oh paleeze, don’t sound so surprised. As women age, at some point, everyone pees in the pants. Why? Because their bladder drops. Everything drops, tits, tushies. Name that body part and it drops. Not like manna from the heavens, just a mama ungracefully aging.

And by the by, men also don’t get a free piss, I mean pass from aging. They also pee in their pants as they age too.

But really, this is serious stuff. I found out about this dropped uterus ‘thang’ on the condition of anonymity. I swore to the person who told me, I would not tell a soul. Not anyone.

So, in the spirit of being moi, I shall write about this story and publish it in my blog.

However, to honor that li’l ole anonymity request, I would never, ever divulge the name of the person who told me this very personal story. I shan’t leave clues about their age, color of their hair, height, weight, or address. Because if I did, you can be sure that person would be really, really mad at me.

Trust me. I know that person all too well.

Uterine Prolapse

So…how do you know your uterus is dropping or has dropped?

The person who told me about their uterus, said they felt something literally ‘coming out’ of their special private parts. You know, the part that men don’t have.

Now here is the scary part…this is really not for the skeamish. According to my anonymous source, a self-examination felt, yes this person literally felt ‘down there,’ a penis growing. Really.

Well, now wait a gosh darn minute. Perception is 9/10’s of the law… this person perceived whatever was comin’ out down there, was a penis.

Back in the day, this anonymous person, in her younger years,  sashayed around town with a really  big set of balls. So the natural progression would be to grow a penis someday, am I not right?

What can you do? When the person went to the doctor, the first question posed was: ‘is it possible I am growing a penis?’ The Dr. ‘chuckled,’ and replied, ‘no, that is just your uterus.’ Well, girlfriends, what a relief, right? Nah.

And go figure… my sistahood knows all about this ‘dropped uterus’ thang.

Sistahs and Brothas, a dropped uterus is in fact a medical condition called Uterine Prolapse (not penis growth). According to the Mayo Clinic, “Uterine prolapse occurs when pelvic floor muscles and ligaments stretch and weaken and no longer provide enough support for the uterus. As a result, the uterus slips down into or protrudes out of the vagina. Uterine prolapse can occur in women of any age. But it often affects postmenopausal women who’ve had one or more vaginal deliveries.”

Oh, and if anyone has given birth to a ‘large baby,’ blame it on that damn kid…could just have caused uterus to drop.

Kids are the gift that keep giving.

Sistahs, this is just one more thing to look forward to.

Dropped Uterus!

Dear Dr. Frankenstein,

I just learned a new fun fact about aging. Did you know that a woman’s uterus can drop? Like fall out of your body?

OMG, I almost peed in my pants when I heard this. Oh paleeze, don’t sound so surprised. As women age, at some point, everyone pees in the pants. Why? Because their bladder drops. Everything drops, tits, tushies. Name that body part and it drops. Not like manna from the heavens, just a mama ungracefully aging.

And by the by, men also don’t get a free piss, I mean pass from aging. They also pee in their pants as they age too.

But really, this is serious stuff. I found out about this dropped uterus ‘thang’ on the condition of anonymity. I swore to the person who told me, I would not tell a soul. Not anyone.

So, in the spirit of being moi, I shall write about this story and publish it in my blog.

However, to honor that li’l ole anonymity request, I would never, ever divulge the name of the person who told me this very personal story. I shan’t leave clues about their age, color of their hair, height, weight, or address. Because if I did, you can be sure that person would be really, really mad at me.

Trust me. I know that person all too well.

Uterine Prolapse

So…how do you know your uterus is dropping or has dropped?

The person who told me about their uterus, said they felt something literally ‘coming out’ of their special private parts. You know, the part that men don’t have.

Now here is the scary part…this is really not for the skeamish. According to my anonymous source, a self-examination felt, yes this person literally felt ‘down there,’ a penis growing. Really.

Well, now wait a gosh darn minute. Perception is 9/10’s of the law… this person perceived whatever was comin’ out down there, was a penis.

Back in the day, this anonymous person, in her younger years,  sashayed around town with a really  big set of balls. So the natural progression would be to grow a penis someday, am I not right?

What can you do? When the person went to the doctor, the first question posed was: ‘is it possible I am growing a penis?’ The Dr. ‘chuckled,’ and replied, ‘no, that is just your uterus.’ Well, girlfriends, what a relief, right? Nah.

And go figure… my sistahood knows all about this ‘dropped uterus’ thang.

Sistahs and Brothas, a dropped uterus is in fact a medical condition called Uterine Prolapse (not penis growth). According to the Mayo Clinic, “Uterine prolapse occurs when pelvic floor muscles and ligaments stretch and weaken and no longer provide enough support for the uterus. As a result, the uterus slips down into or protrudes out of the vagina. Uterine prolapse can occur in women of any age. But it often affects postmenopausal women who’ve had one or more vaginal deliveries.”

Oh, and if anyone has given birth to a ‘large baby,’ blame it on that damn kid…could just have caused uterus to drop.

Kids are the gift that keep giving.

Sistahs, this is just one more thing to look forward to.

THE BACK TAP!

Feeble Old Man…

The Back Tap!

Oy vey! I need to take a break from writing about  the recent Supreme Court Decisions that have literally been shitted out by the Conservative Justices.

These Justices are not enacting laws. They are re-writing the U.S. Constitution to reflect the edicts of their Messiah, whoever that may be.

It is clear that these Conservative Justices are all suffering from amnesia; they have forgotten their oath of office, and their responsibility to adhere to the legal principles of Stare Decisis  and Precedent.

Time to Switch Gears

And now, a break… Let us switch gears for a moment and talk about our favorite Former Mayor of New York City, Rudy Giuliani.

Rudy, Rudy, Rudy. My oh my. What has become of Rudy?

The Back Tap!

I needed a little laughter this week and thank you Rudy for entertaining us all.

As the story goes, which was caught on video, Rudy was campaigning in Staten Island, New York for his son Andrew, who was running for Governor of New York State in the Republican Primary. Andrew did not win the Primary; thank you Lord, something went right this week.

As I was saying… Rudy was campaigning for his son in a supermarket, whereupon a grocery store employee allegedly ‘tapped’ Rudy on the back. Now, I say ‘tapped,’ because that is what it looked like to a reasonable person watching the video that captured this interaction.

So, I was watching the news and Rudy was interviewed to give his ‘side of the story.’ First, I would like to address Rudy’s demeanor. Rudy was very calm, not erratic, totally muted. By the by, this is not Rudy’s public persona. Clearly, it was as though he  were acting, trying to play the role of a feeble old man. In fact, his hair was not dyed brown… no, there was no brown shoe polish running down the side of his face which he previously sported as some new ‘fashion statement’ when he held  a press conference  several months ago in front of the Four Seasons landscaping company that just happened to be adjacent to a sex shop. Not to ramble on, but, how convenient to shop at the sex shop once the press conference was over.

Rather, for the ‘back tap’ interview, the three remaining strands of hair left on his shiny bald crown, were gray.

According to Rudy, “I got hit on the back, as if some boulder hit me.” He didn’t stop there… Rudy said,  “if I wasn’t in better shape, I was lucky he did not knock me down, and hit my skull, and die… or got a concussion or got seriously injured.” Oh wait, there is more. He even implied to the NY Times ‘it’s a miracle I am able to still walk.’  Oh my goodness! What other injuries could this ambulance chaser have concocted?

Hallelujah for Miracles Rudy! He survived the back tap!

If I may, Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, Rudy made that statement on a television interview. To be clear, if a boulder hit Rudy, yes, it is possible he could have been ‘knocked down.’ But I hate to speculate. I would need to know what kind of boulder; size; weight. If we follow the boulder scenario, would the setting of this incident still be a supermarket in Staten Island? I just don’t know.

I don’t ever recall seeing a boulder in a supermarket. Are we talking about a boulder hitting you in Boulder, Colorado? Would this have occurred outdoors while Rudy would be hiking? Would he be wearing hiking boots? Does Rudy even hike on a trail where there are boulders? Just wonderin.’

Oh, maybe Rudy is using the ‘boulder’ as a metaphor… that the tap on his back by the grocery store employee should be equated to a boulder falling on you? I don’t know. This seems to be a farfetched legal theory. Right?

Let’s not forget that Rudy’s license to practice law  is suspended in New York State. Question: Why is he not disbarred? Just wonderin.’

It is quite possible, if a boulder hit him, and it caused him to be knocked down and hit is skull, would he have sustained serious injury? We would need an expert opinion to determine whether there was anything in his skull that could have sustained any damage.

Note, in some jurisdictions, you take your victim as he comes. In this situation, if an expert deemed Rudy to be damaged goods prior to this incident, and the boulder that knocked him down caused him to hit his skull, die, get a concussion or got seriously injured, well, there just might be liability.

Then there is that but…

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury, we must determine whether Rudy also played a role in this incident. One must ask, ‘did he provoke the grocery store worker’ to tap him on the back? Did Rudy misinterpret the back tap as an atta-boy? Did Rudy provoke the grocery store worker by his presence in the store, by merely breathing and speaking? I just don’t know.

Lastly,  we would have to determine ‘what he is worth’ for compensation purposes. Rudy said he was an old man. At this point, we would review actuary tables and jury awards in NYS for people getting hit with boulders in Supermarkets, to determine what an old guy his age is worth. And watching all of his crazy antics over the last several years, probably not much. Don’t forget that press conference he held in the parking lot of the Four Seasons Landscaping Company, that just happened to be adjacent to a sex shop, where the shoe polish was running down his face. Apparently, everyone thought he was supposed to hold a Press Conference at the Four Seasons Hotel, not at the Four Seasons Landscaping Company. To make matters worse, it was in the parking lot of this company.

And you know, I haven’t even mentioned his alleged involvement in the January 6, 2021, attempt to overthrow the U.S. Government.

Just look at this guy’s state of mind. It is possible that his recollection of the events of the back tap do not correspond to the video tape.

I suspect in NYS, no one has ever gone to trial for a ‘back tap;’ received monetary damages for a ‘back tap’;  no one has ever gone to jail for giving someone a ‘back tap;’ and to be clear, it is not a crime to give someone a ‘back tap.’

Better yet, if the boulder hitting Rudy were an ‘Act of God,’ well, shit happens, and there is no liability. You can’t sue mother nature or the Good Lord. As the good book says, some things were just meant to be.

But wait…when I watched the video of this incident, I did not see a boulder hit Rudy. I saw a guy, walk pass Rudy, and literally ‘tap him on the back.’ Did anyone see what the Grocery store employee looked like? He did not resemble Mr. Universe or the Action Figure Thor.

This tap on the back looked more like someone  giving you a pat on your back, like ‘atta boy, way to go.’  A closer examination of the video revealed that Rudy, a  Gladiator (not), barely flinched when the grocery store worker tapped him.

Rudy claims that his assailant was angry about the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v Wade, and thus hit him on the back. What a great opportunity for Rudy to try to make nothing into something. Now he was spewing shit that ‘crazy pro-choice people will start attacking people.’

The grocery store worker was initially charged with a felony, which was reduced to a misdemeanor. Before we know it, the matter will be reduced to a violation, and disappear.

Poor Rudy. The only injury poor old crazy Rudy sustained was a bruised ego.

Time for Rudy to retreat to his Dracula cave.

COVID DAY 7: ENOUGH!

Self-Portrait

Does this ever end?

Oy! Please, enough already! Today is Day 7, and to be honest, I have had enough of COVID. Sadly, it has not had enough of me. Not an equitable relationship.

The problem with getting COVID, is that it’s just not your common cold.

As we all know by now, COVID affects each person differently. Some people who test positive for COVID are ‘asymptomatic’ and experience no symptoms. However, they are still a walking petri dish and still must isolate. Then there are the spectrum of folks who experience mild symptoms (like me), moderate symptoms and just fall apart for a week or two, and those who experience severe symptoms, who need to be hospitalized and just may succumb to the virus. Scary, right?

Since COVID is a highly contagious virus, and, if a person cares about another human being, well, you want to do the right thing and isolate. Yes, you do the right thing and stay away from other people (even if you hate them).

Isolating at Home

I suppose I am lucky. My kids are out of the house, and it is just me and my husband. Akin to two people stranded on an island. In this case, Long Island. So dreamy, right? Nah, I don’t think so.

Despite having 100 COVID shots between us (just joking), since the minute I tested positive for COVID, I am now sleeping in my younger son’s bedroom. The room is a time capsule, intact from last year, when he graduated from College.

My husband is still testing negative, which is great for him. To keep him negative, I wear a KN95 mask in the house, and Lysol spray is my new perfume. I know, sexy, right?

When it is not raining and there are no gale force winds, we can dine together, outside. What a real treat.

Now, for some people who can’t stand their spouses, COVID is a great excuse to stay away. Right? A self-imposed separation. For some odd reason, I actually like the guy I married. Call me crazy, or maybe it is the COVID brain? But, it has been hard to be separated.

Our anniversary is tomorrow. First off, amazing we made it to 27 years of marriage! Woo Hoo! Second, we shall celebrate just ‘the two of us.’ Our plans were cancelled, because I am still testing positive for COVID. For heavens sake…no one has hugged me in a week!

Perks of Day 7 of COVID

So exciting! Made it to day 7 of COVID! So many doors have opened to me as per the CDC. Since I am finishing my Paxlovid, have experienced mild symptoms, never had a fever, and I can now go out in Public. But, there is always that but… I am required to wear a mask at all times.

To make sure I do not infect my fellow human beings (even the ones I can’t stand), I wear two KN95 masks.

Remaining Symptoms

COVID has left me tired, and I have a raspy, hoarse voice. Once the symptoms of COVID rooted, I had an extremely upset stomach, which contributed to the weight loss I experienced. (You can fill in the gory details.)

I am always the optimistic: my bikini will look awesome this summer, or whatever that means for a 58 year old hot mama!

To be continued…

COVID DAY THREE…

Help me…

Greetings from COVID land. COVID is certainly nothing to sneeze at.

Shame, shame on COVID. Today, COVID knocked me on my skinny arse. Day Three has not been fun. I am exhausted. I literally cannot move. And by the by, this never happens to me.

Convalescing in the Hamptons

Thank goodness it is warm outside and not raining in the posh Hamptons. I was able to ‘isolate,’ and ‘alienate’ myself from the rest of the family by staying outside on a lounge chair.

Hold your damn horses. Yes, I am convalescing on a lounge chair in the Hamptons, the sun is shining, and I can hear the ocean waves breaking along the shore. However, this is not a sexy tale. I am laying under a warm, chenille cuddle blanket from COSTCO with my trusted Havanese, Latte at my side.

I am also hacking, coughing, hacking, choking and gagging all day. Better to be outside than pollute the entire house with COVID germs.

I know, such a pretty picture, right?

Getting Worse

As the day progressed, I noticed that my condition was worsening. How could I not? I was coughing more, and I started getting ‘flu-like’ symptoms. Still no fever, and certainly not the end of the world.

However, by the end of the day, I felt as if I was melting into the couch.

Then I wondered, ‘is my breathing labored’? It was becoming more and more difficult for me to breathe through my mask. Yes, the Jewess hypochondriac in me now was running this derailed COVID train. To be clear, it is not easy to wear a mask when you are battling COVID.

To make sure I was getting enough oxygen, I searched the house for the Pulse Oximeter. I bought that gadget at the beginning of the pandemic 2.5 years ago. Thankfully, the battery still worked (it was made in China).

Good news! I was alive and there was oxygen in my blood. I breathed a sigh of relief and proceeded to cough.

Paxlovid

Last night, the coughing was getting worse, the fatigue was getting worse, and I felt feverish. My chest was hurting from all the coughing, and now I detected a ‘wheeze.’ Paleeze, the time had come for me to take the antiviral Paxlovid.

Doctors do advise not to take Paxlovid if you are experiencing a mild strain of COVID. However, I felt my body was deteriorating. I thought I could fight through COVID, but alas, I could not.

I am grateful to be fully vaccinated and have access to COVID antiviral drugs. As I go through this journey, it saddens me to know how many innocent lives were lost to this virus because people simply chose not to get vaccinated.

Please, please get vaccinated and boosted.

To be continued…

SANTA CLAUS COVID PLAYBOOK 2021

Merry COVID Christmas!

SANTA CLAUS COVID PLAYBOOK

Oh yeah baby! Santa Claus is comin’ to your COVID Town!

But wait! Don’t get your balls, I mean bells all jiggly just yet!

Santa Almighty

It is true. Santa is brilliant and has a few magical powers tucked away. Ask Mrs. Claus. She hates when Mom’s jump on Santa’s lap to get their Candy Canes.

All jokin’ aside, Santa was ahead of his time by powering up his sleigh with reindeer. A true forward thinker. Even Elon Musk can’t figure out how to pull Santa’s sleigh with Reindeer.

Too bad Santa never figured out how to stop the reindeer from shiattin’ all over the world when they make their Christmas ‘present drops’.

Unfortunately, despite Santa’s enviable characteristics, he is at a high-risk for complications from COVID.

Elf Chat Rooms

To aid in my investigative research on Santa, I have infiltrated Elf Chat Rooms on the internet. Those Elves are such yentas! Oy vey! Do they have the gift of gab!

Word in these chat rooms, is that the Elves, Santa, Mrs. Claus and the Reindeer have been isolating in the North Pole for two years now.

Last year, Due to COVID Lockdowns, they never left the North Pole. However, this year, Santa has proclaimed ‘there will be no Christmas closures due to COVID’. The Elves have been working in the Santa Factory shoulder to shoulder all year building and constructing toys for all the children of the World.

Largest Employer of Elves

The Elves have been working for Santa for generations, and if something were to happen to Santa, they would be on the unemployment line.

Just think for a moment. Santa is the largest and only, employer of Elves. Custom toy making is a lost art. Elves make toys with their little elf hands. This is an extremely time consuming process. If Santa got COVID, who would provide room, board, medical and dental coverage to thousands of elves? You can be sure: NOT CHINA.

Top Doctor

Santa is currently under the care of North Pole renown physician and Elf, Dr. Gerald Jerome (a.k.a “Jerry Jerry”). Just A bit concerning…Jerry Jerry is not the brightest light on the Christmas Tree or Menorah for that matter.

I know, it is very rare that you hear of an elf who becomes a physician. The last thing any Elf parent wants is for their Elf Child to become a Doctor.

Dr. Jerry Jerry hailed from a long line of elves who were master toy makers. Unfortunately, Jerry Jerry built toy airplanes that always crashed.  He was thrown out of the Elf Academy. Keep in mind, very few Elves fail at toy building. His mother and father were plotzing ; they shrieked “who fails out of Elf Academy?”

In fact, his mother cried ‘this is a shonda’ (a Yiddish definition: ‘shameful’).

So, the next best thing was to become a doctor. Oy vey.

Go figure…years later, Dr. Jerry Jerry became the ‘Head Physician’ to Santa Claus.

Santa’s COVID Risk Factors

  1. Kinda Old.
  2. Kinda Heavy.
  3. Borderline Diabetic; Santa sneaks candy when Mrs. Claus not watching.
  4. Smokes a Corn Cob Pipe when Mrs. Claus not watching.

Dr. Jerry Jerry recently held a press conference at the Elf Union Headquarters in the North Pole and confirmed that Santa and Mrs. Claus have been fully vaccinated and received their boosters.

The Elves already knew that. You see, Santa required mandatory COVID vaccines for all Elves. If they did not comply by September 1 of this year, an elf would be thrown out of Santa’s Village on their pointy ear.

Santa’s COVID Protocols

To put the ho ho ho back into Christmas, Santa and his Doctor have established Christmas Protocols.

According to the Elf Chat Rooms, this is going to be a very different Christmas.

Remember, the intent is to keep Santa healthy.

Mask Protocols Outdoors

  1. Santa travels on an ‘open-air’ sled. Santa, Reindeer, and Elves do not have to wear a mask outdoors on the sled.

Vaccination Protocols for Delivering Presents

  1. Santa is only permitted to enter a home and slide down the chimney where every family member is fully vaccinated.
  2. Santa will not slide down your chimney if you are not vaccinated.
  3. Santa knows who is naughty or nice.
  4. Santa knows who is naughty and has a fake VAX Card.
  5. Santa is not petty. He will still leave presents for children whose parents chose not to get vaccinated. Check your back door Christmas morning.

Support Santa

These are tough times for Santa. He is a World traveler. He has never encountered any problems entering a country. Not even a Wall can stop him.

But COVID, this is another story. Santa is not getting any younger. We need to ensure that future generations of children will enjoy the rituals we all love to share.

  1. Please Get Fully Vaccinated.
  2. Please Get your Booster Shots.
  3. Please Wear a Mask.

Oh, and please practice social distancing. Except when you are standing under the mistletoe, are fully vaccinated, got a booster, and had a negative COVID test. Then, by all means, kiss that person!

Merry Christmas!

Hamptons Luncheon!

It happened. I finally received my first invite to a luncheon this summer! In the Hamptons, no less!

An Emotional Moment

Girlfriends, can we talk?

My head is spinning. Now I am gettin’ a hot flash. Do I detect a little underarm perspiration?

I mean, really. This is big news! At least in my teeny tiny world. Someone actually wanted little ole’ me to attend their event. Can you believe it?

And between you and me, this is not your regular iced tea and salad lunch date.

You betcha baby! This is a Hamptons Luncheon, where attendees include a magazine and a celebrity.

Oy vey. I am totally verklmept. Work with me kids. Basic Yiddish 101 for being ‘overcome with emotion’.

The Invitation

You can be sure that when I received the invite, I responded ‘yes’ within 5 seconds. Well, maybe I waited a minute, so as not to reveal my irrational exuberance!

To be clear, I am a refined, highly educated, sophisticated Woman, who knows how to exercise restraint.

Yeah right girlfriends! And believe me when I tell you that this Hot Mama is as subtle as a bull in a China shop!

The Attire

It has been like forever… since I attended a luncheon.

What do you wear to a ‘luncheon event’ in the Hamptons? I have no idea. Of course, I emailed the person who invited me, and asked “ What is the Attire?”.

I know. I am a total schmuck to even inquire as to what to wear to a Hamptons Luncheon. Like Duh. the answer was: “A dress”.

Sistahs, I knew I would have to wear a dress.

Dresses

I am sorry. I just feel that I do not look good in a dress. Keep in mind, this is just in my head. On the rare occasion that I ‘don’ a dress, ‘the people’, A.K.A. ‘onlookers’ or ‘gawkers’ always compliment me.

People lie. Sad but true.

So many factors create this poor self-image. On the day that I have to wear a dress, I could have bad belly bloat akin to that of a woman who is 6 months pregnant.

I have very long, skinny legs, which were constantly mocked by other kids during my childhood. Not only was I brutalized for having the name ‘Gay’, but kids managed to refer to me as ‘Olive Oil’ or ‘Chicken Legs’. I know. Nice.

There is some baggage that never gets lost.

However, the funny thing with dresses is that I never need them fitted. I literally waltz into TJ Maxx, pick a dress off the rack, and go home. No, I rarely try on a dress prior to purchasing it, because I can literally ‘eyeball’ the dress style and measurements and know it will fit.

I know, I know. And I am biatchin’ and moanin’ that I don’t like to wear a dress. What can I say?

Pick a Damn Dress

Clearly, I will wear a dress to this event.

Problem: So many dresses to choose! Rumor has it, I have a few summer frocks in my closet. Many of these dresses are pre-pandemic.

Query: Are they still in style? I don’t know. I don’t wear dresses!

The attire for the luncheon calls for a ‘summer dress’. So, it can’t be a fancy schmancy evening cocktail or party dress. Well, scratch those black dresses off the list.

As I peruse through my closet, I find a cute pink dress, another white dress with flowers, you get the picture. This is when I get nervous. Do I try them on? Would they be too loud? Let’s face it, I am loud enough, that I do not need to wear a fuchsia dress to an intimate luncheon. Or can I? I just don’t know!

Emergency Run to TJ Maxx

You betcha baby. I went runnin’ to TJ Maxx to find a new dress. Keep in mind, the dresses in my closet were only worn once (if that).

Of course, I found these beautiful silky, flowy Theory dresses. You betcha baby! I saw another mama oglin’ the dresses.

I ask my sistahs: What is a crazed hot mama to do? You know me to well! I jumped to the rack with those long chicken legs of mine and grabbed the dresses from the rack and ran to the cashier with my AMEX card in hand!

Aw, no hard feelings. Hell no! Sorry biatch… you know the rules in TJ Maxx. If the prized dress is not in your hand, then too bad, so sad for you girlfriend. You snooze, you lose. So sad. Not!

Hair

I have a problem. I know, I am fraught with issues.

My hairstylist is Amy, and she is amazing. She books out for appointments months in advance.

2 weeks ago, I show up for my scheduled appointment for my color and haircut. And by the by, this appointment is like clockwork.

However, this appointment is different than all other appointments (and no, this is not a lead-in to Passover). I walk in the door, and Amy does not say ‘hi’, rather, she says in jaw-dropped surprise, “what are you doing here”.

Well, what kind of greeting is that? I’m thinkin’ to myself, which I actually blurted out, “are you kidding me?”. Like OMG. I thought I was going to faint.

Girlfriends, to me, hair is sacred. Excuse Moi, but really.

I have known Amy for 19 years… this never happened. Amy can’t find my appointment in her calendar. Well, wouldn’t ya know that OCD Gay kept the email appointment confirmation from Amy.

Yes ma’m. Exhibit ‘A’: Amy sent me an email that she drafted 2 months ago confirming the appointment she scheduled for me.

Compromise

Amy could only color my hair, not cut it. Biatch! But what was I to do? I am at her mercy.

Sistahs, the hairstylist is the ruler of my universe. I don’t ask for much in life, just good consistent color and a nice haircut.

And you know what I got that day? Bupkus! Which means not much. The color came out too light, and I needed a haircut, which I did NOT get. I tried to be subtle, and hide my disappoint and tears, but again, that would not be me.

Blonde Gay

Can you blame me? I flipped out.

To be continued…