How dark a girl’s life would be without best friends. I don’t know what I would do without my daily updates, chats and coffees with Barb and Micki. Well…probably learn a new language or something useful. But how lonely I would be, speaking French all by myself! When I think about the support they have shown me, through ups and downs, I feel so fortunate. When our house was for sale and I was afraid someone more fun would buy it and have dinner parties, Barb and Micki assured me they would not darken the door of my house, let... Continue reading

I try, if I can help it, never to say anything of interest in front of my children. Just keep it simple. “Eat your breakfast. Brush your teeth. Go to bed.’” But sooner or later you slip and says something that piques their curiousity and the interrogation begins. “Mommy, when you were talking with Barb just now you said she was your best friend. Is that true?” “It was sort of a joke.” “So she’s not your best friend?” “Hmmm? No. I mean yes. I mean, I was asking if she could do a favor for me since we were... Continue reading

“Have you packed your lace veil?” I ask Barb. “ummm, I’m not sure they still wear…” “Well, you can do as you like, but I for one will not disrespect Micki’s father by waltzing into the Cathedral bareheaded to his funeral!” I hang up the phone and lovingly finger the beautiful antique black lace veil I have been saving for just such an occasion. For someone slap dash in so many areas of her life I am more than prepared, attire-wise, for events such as Catholic funerals or celebrity weddings in St. Tropez. In fact, I could go to up... Continue reading

Sitting in the car, waiting for the boys to finish tennis clinic at the Cal Club, I listen to Eminem’s, “I Love the Way You Lie” over and over. The song shows how crazy a man can get when he is madly in love with a woman, which makes me feel very annoyed with Beloved. Why can’t he be more wildly passionate?! Not in the physical sense, which I didn’t mean to infer because that would be gross, but in the hard-core rapper sense, which isn’t. I get a little thrill every time his girlfriend (Eminem’s, not Beloved’s) says she’s... Continue reading

Barb and I sip our steaming cups of tea and recount the events from the night before. The party had started out tame enough. We both agree the cute couple was charming and attractive. We note how sweet it was for the millionaire husband to make sure the anorexic billionaire wife was fed a well-balanced meal. We laugh at the late-night-antics of the guests which make me uneasy as dim memories of the evening come to the fore. I think the trouble started with Barb and I rushing to the kitchen to get another place set for Sabrina. She had... Continue reading

I climb carefully, so as not to spill my big mug of steaming hot tea, into Barb’s big cushy bed. I like her ex-husband, but at times like these it’s really more convenient that he’s no longer here. Barb and I bear remnants of last night’s mascara. Our hair is tousled and looks a bit like street walker hair (why is street walker hair wasted on the morning after?). We are wearing big cushy socks, sweat pants (they're James Perse!) and cozy sweaters. Everything one needs for a lie-in-bed, re-hash of the party the night before. Heaven! Leaving my house... Continue reading

I once read that a writer I admire reads 3-4 newspapers a day. I didn’t know there were that many, but in my determination to become a serious writer (serious Romance Novelist) I decided to give it a go. I start with the The New Yorker, yes I know it’s not a newspaper, but I thought I could read an article or two, feel very learned and be entitled to throw out New Yorker bon mots at dinner parties. Thirty two pages into the article, with no end in sight, I decide to try The New York Times. This is... Continue reading

I understand why we do it, but it seems so embarrassing. I mean the habit at charity lunches of trotting out some poor woman (a man would never subject himself) to tell us about her tragic life and how with the help of some very good (white) people she turned her life around and now has all her children back (except one, unless I miscounted). Then we in the audience cry and give money. I know it's important to help, and the recipients are commendable. It just seems like there might be a better way. Since I'm not clever enough... Continue reading

When things get too overwhelming, and I feel I can’t wrap my head around it all, I go to my happy place…decorating my sister’s home. I don’t want to decorate my home because that is boring and stressful. Arranging for Jose to paint the boys’ closet is dull and not what I consider decorating. Scheduling someone to hang the pictures that are sitting on the floor of my office reminds me I have to decide where they will go…which makes me want to cry. Gluing the mirror pieces that have fallen off the arches in my garden means I must... Continue reading

Now that Beloved is gone he seems, in memory, almost perfect in every way. No, no! he hasn’t died!... instantly and painlessly, after leading a long, happy and productive life; leaving the children and me intact here with nothing to divert our interests but a wealthy and handsome new widower neighbor from Texas who is very masculine due to cattle round ups and such; though not such a hick that he doesn’t know his way around a good Gevrey-Chambertin …but I digress. No, Beloved has taken the younger boys back to Florida for Easter break. Oldest and I have stayed... Continue reading

I think these pictures describe my winter break in Florida better than I ever could. I know San Francisco is known for it's organic, locally grown, Alice Waters-inspired cuisine, but if there is anything better than blue cheese dressing on iceberg lettuce I am not yet aware of it. If one prefers eating at home there is always my favorite market. They are known for their customer service and go the extra mile by wrapping all produce in plastic wrap! Very hygenic. We love visiting Beloved's home town of Winter Park. The beautiful brick streets are canopied by Live Oak... Continue reading

I am not sure I approve of Bjorn Bags being worn by fathers. I know I have startlingly old-fashioned ideas when it comes to men, and I’m convinced it’s my own father’s fault. He was (“is” actually, for some reason I always speak of him in the past tense -- I’m sure my next 15 years of therapy will get to the bottom of that) a cigarette-smoking, hard-drinking, never-heard-of-a-child’s-sporting-event-he-felt-compelled-to-attend father. We all adored him. I can assure you if they had Bjorn Bags in his day he would have thought they were just great…for somebody else. To be fair, it... Continue reading

Beloved and I have an honest relationship. In fact, I sometimes wish he we weren’t quite so honest with me each other. I totally understand that being honest is good, and I always tell my children that honesty is the best policy, but Beloved really takes it to the limit. I am somewhat used to it, but it can be startling to others, as guests who come for dinner at our home can attest. When Beloved decides he is finished with our dinner party he walks upstairs to our bedroom, dons pajamas and nightcap (if he had one), returns downstairs... Continue reading

I find myself filled with outrage, pain and confusion with the latest distressing news streaming across the airwaves perpetuated by irresponsible journalists. I don’t normally take such an interest in current events but this one affected me to my core. It goes against everything I believe in and has rocked my confidence in our so-called civilized society. I find it reprehensible, and I don’t think I’m the only one. When I opened the newspaper that fateful morning and saw the story…well, I’m only now able to speak about it at all. And no wonder! To wake up confident of one’s... Continue reading

Beloved thinks I’m taking our reversal-of-fortune situation a little too far. I think I’m just being pragmatic. Why shouldn’t our kids start contributing? How hard can child acting/modeling be? I must say, my children are cute…especially Middle (no offense Oldest and Youngest), and I’m pretty sure they can go to school, do sports, and whatever else they do whilst having lucrative careers as child actor/models. It’s not like I’m not doing my part. I am furiously working on my Romance Novel which I’m confident will solve most of our problems. In actual fact, I find our reversal of fortune a... Continue reading

I was waiting for Oldest to take his driving test at the DMV the other day when I heard a mother asking her child to please behave. Actually, what she said was, “JERMAINE! YOU STOP THAT AND GET YOUR SKINNY BUTT OVER HERE…NOW!” Then a funny thing happened, Jermaine stopped it and got his skinny butt over to his mother. Well! That was something new. I started to ask her her secret, but when I saw how she was dealing with Jermaine I thought it best to study the situation empirically. I was fascinated that, even though the area around... Continue reading