Does this BLOG Make me Look FAT?

July 3, 2017

This is my ball. I will not share my ball with anyone. And no one else can have a ball. That is the way I want things. And I can do that. Because I am the president, and they're not.

This is my ice cream. I get two scoops of ice cream. Everyone else gets one scoop. Only I get two scoops. Because I am the president, and they're not.

This is my Supreme Court. I get to appoint the most conservative judges. This is not the...

June 4, 2017

I always think it won't happen. And then the oppressive fog and clouds make way for what has been insipidly coined, "June Gloom," in Southern California. All of the local weather people will be saying it. "June Gloom is here!" "Looks like another case of June Gloom over the Southland." 

I don't know why it sets my teeth on edge to hear that phrase. But it does, dammit.

May 16, 2017

Today, in particular, with trump having shared classified intel with Russia, I am riveted. It turns out that this intel was Israel's. Israel has said that it is fine with it. Right. What are they going to say? One thing about Israel, the operate with extreme finesse, exactly 180º from where dummy trump operates. The guy has all the grace of a hippopotamus with all four legs in hard casts. 

I predict that Israel will n...

May 7, 2017

I have lapsed with my blog, so I am going to begin again. I may write a sentence, or a paragraph, or several. But I will do it with regularity. This is my intention. I have so much to say on Facebook. I would like to put some of that energy here, on my website.

I am working in Tahoe this week, with Carrie (Snow), at The Improv. We're having such a fun time. We're here with TJ and Chappy, and they're being so good. But...

January 25, 2016

I am fully aware that I have a hard time throwing things away. My eyes are open. And they're seeing a lot of junk.

 

I'm not a Hoarder, but I'm a Saver. It's not quite as bad. It's a couple of rungs beneath Hoarder, with Stasher holding the spot between. 

 

Some of the stuff I save is meaningless. For instance, a label with washing instructions, on which I'd forgotten to note a description of the item to which it pe...

January 10, 2016

 

Look, I know that the world is a mess right now. And the political system in our country is appalling. The fact that this cast of characters in the Republican party have been able to gain the kind of momentum they have and be taken at all seriously is mind-bending.

 

But here's what's bothering me today: My hair. 

 

I know you have all heard your fill of what you consider from me to be a neurotic obsession. But, please,...

May 18, 2015

 

 

The first memory I have of watching “Late Night with David Letterman” - I’m sure that I’d watched it before, but this moment is always what comes to mind - is when my mom and I were watching together. It was 1982. We were sitting at the dining room table, and I think we were both doing some mending (wow). We were watching the show on the little 12” TV that had taken residence at the end of the table, to my mom’s ch...

November 5, 2014

 

I remember the first time I became invested in an election night.

 

I was 13. I had just had my bat mitzvah on October 18th, and I was writing thank you notes each night since. Painstakingly, which is how I do almost everything. A note that said, “Thank you for the ______. I really appreciate it.” wasn’t enough for me. I was compelled to much more detail and embellishment, such as, “Thank you for the __________. It wi...

September 25, 2014

My dog, Chappy, swallowed some kind of bone last night, which I'm sure he picked up on a walk. Grateful that he was able to cough it up this morning. It was huge.

 

I love him so, and I see so clearly how our species have such different instincts. First of all, when I go for a walk, which I love to do, and I see something on the ground that looks like food, I keep walking. I never, I mean NEVER, look at it and think, "...

May 25, 2014

Being sick is a paradox for me. 

 

When I was little, I would tell my mother I was sick, every day, before school. I wanted so desperately not to go. And, of course, my mother never believed me because I’d abused the privilege.

 

One morning, it was in February, 1964, I told my mom I was sick, as per usual. And, as per usual, she said something like, “No, you’re not,” and she sent me to school.

 

At school, we were lined u...

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