I guess you’ve all heard of the New Year’s Eve murderer.

He/she sneaks into empty homes and puts orange juice in your noodle pudding. It doesn’t always result in death but it could.

He/she follows it up with something even more diabolical. Going through all your personal papers and changing the words “Mister” to “Pister” and “Avenue” to “Philosophical”.

This goes undiscovered until you try to leave the country and your passport doesn’t match your id.

Which is why I have decided to stay home tonight to keep guard on my house and the 2 empty apartments on my floor.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve gotten lots of invites but I’ve chosen to put my neighbors first.

I truly am a giver.

So I am wishing you all a happy and healthy New Year and may all my wishes come true.

(Get it? I said “my” wishes.)

Yesterday was a pretty busy day.

My nephew Matthew and his family slept over on the way up to visit my sister . We all had a lovely breakfast and they were off.

No sooner did they leave when my niece Laura called and said that she and her son and step daughter were going to chinatown for dim sum and would I like to join them.

Although I never had dim sum I don’t miss a chance to see Laura so of course I went.

We got to the restaurant and I have to admit I paused when I saw that the restaurant only got a “B” in hygiene.

Then I remembered that David always says that I’d have to clean for an hour to up the rating of my kitchen to a “B” and I relaxed.

It was really interesting.The waiters walk around and you point at what you want and they place it on your table.

Laura and Scott were really happy that we were practically the only non asians in the place. Me, not so much. The ambience suggested adventurous eating while the last chinese meal I had was egg drop soup and chicken chow mein. If I want to live dangerously I might have an egg roll.

So you think that if you ask the right question you will get something that won’t scare you. It’s easy to not order feet of any kind but you want them to be specific when it comes to anything in a dumpling.

Here’s the rub. They lie.

Either that or I’ve learned to speak Chinese because clearly the meaning of “vegetarian” is Chinese for “vegetables mixed with unnamed meat or fish, starfish included”

Those three were popping shit in their mouths without giving it a thought. They obviously don’t know me at all because they even tried encouraging me to eat one thing after I clearly heard them saying that though they couldn’t place the meat or the jellied stuff in the dumpling, it sure was good.

Lucky I love being with them so much.

And the day ended with me being invited to celebrate Allan Schwartzberg’s birthday with them, their beautiful and talented daughter, Nicole, her boyfriend and some friends.

The wine was flowing, the food was delicious, everyone was laughing a lot and Nicole picked up the whole check even though it was one of those hip downtown restaurants where the wait staff dresses better than you do.

And they were successful at it even though I was wearing my dressy black and it wasn’t easy to outshine me!

Maybe that’s because when I got home I realized my sweater was on inside out.

I had a wonderful Christmas.

I went to Julie’s. She made a terrific dinner and we topped it off with me dancing wildly to “Call Me Maybe” on Violet’s Wii.

For some some reason Vi found this hysterically funny even though I followed the dancer on the screen EXACTLY.

I will credit her with hiding behind her father’s back so I wouldn’t feel bad when I saw her laughing.

As I was leaving for home Violet gave me my present while watching my face expectantly to see my reaction to her homemade gift.  It appeared to be a ceramic turd with a few rhinestones on it.

I once had a boyfriend who said that people don’t really listen to your words, they listen to the tone so I said “Nice turd” in a delighted voice. He was right. She seemed pleased.

This morning I had a cup of coffee with David before he left for the airport to visit Liz.  He’ll be gone for about a week. What on earth will I do without someone pointing out how little I know every time I speak?

In spite of this I guess I’ll miss him but I’m thinking I’ll use this time to sit on his  pillow naked and rifle through his personal papers so I can see if I’m mentioned in his will.

And if you’re reading this, David, there’s nothing you can do about it from your fancy first class seat on the plane so tough titties.

I don’t usually write twice in one day but something major has happened.

dave still loves me.

He sent the most romantic heartfelt email to me that makes me know that he wishes he could take this year back.

In the subject line: Merry Christmas.

Then he wrote:

Michi (our sub publisher) asked me if he could get that Tax and Residency form for the Corporation by Feb.  You know the one that we give to any Japanese company that pays us.

I told him I would talk to you.

I don’t think you can get it by Feb. can you ?

Anyway let me know what to tell him.

Thanks.

Anyone can read between the  lines of that and see that what he was really saying was:

“I’ve made a terrible mistake.What did I ever see in her?  I don’t know why I thought blow jobs were so important. Please take me back.”

I’m all aflutter. What to do? What to do?

Last night was Christmas Eve.

When I came back from the supermarket my doorman handed me a fedex envelope. In it were my divorce papers, signed and notarized by dave.

I looked at the fedex form and I saw that familiar handwriting inscribing his name and address and mine.

I was wondering what he was thinking when he addressed it. When he wrote my name did he feel a twang?

Then I realized that I am so history to him. I’m sure he wasn’t thinking anything except how to fill out the form.

I wish I was as far along in this as he is. I’m almost there but not totally.

Then I had a wonderful evening.

I spent Christmas Eve with David and his sons. I love all three of them and it was really fun.

Even though David has a bad cold, he made a wonderful dinner.

Of course since he thinks you only have to cook a rib roast for 6 minutes instead of my usual 4 hours, my dinner was strictly vegetarian.

We all exchanged gifts and sang xmas carols. Nah we didn’t do that.

They watched football and pretty much ignored me.

It was heaven.

Like I said, I’m really turning into a night owl and last night was no exception.

First of all, David was entertaining his office friends.

Unfortunately I wasn’t able to attend and his saying “Not on your life” when I mentioned the possibility of my coming had nothing to do with it. I had made other plans.

I did however help him set out his hors d’oeuvres before I left. I even added  my signature cut up hot dogs to leave my mark.

I met my friends, Susan and Allan, and John Tropea and the slut that stole him away from his wife and a few others.  We all had dinner before going to the Iridium to hear David Spinoza, Steve Gadd, Mike Manieri, Tony Levin and Warren Bernhardt.

Yes, I am name dropping because only in New York can you see such great musicians playing together on a Thursday night. Plus two of them were really glad to see me.

The dinner before was good too.

Of course Susan got pissy because I didn’t like the salmon. I find it very interesting that I can call her daughters whores and I get no reaction but if I dare to say I don’t like a restaurant she recommends she really lets me have it. Other than that she’s pretty easy going. Go figure.

Anyway I had a wonderful time. I went backstage to kiss everyone (or anyone that would let me kiss them) and then I went home.

When I got home David’s party sounded like it was still going on

He came to the door and said  “Come on in. The Jewish guy is passed out.”

I went in and sure enough there was an adorable young man lying on the couch and sleeping. The rest of the party consisted of another cutie and David. Although it didn’t look like much of a crowd (most people had gone home) it turned out to be a million laughs.

The Jewish guy woke up and we were all drinking and laughing until almost midnight.

It’s funny. When you spend time with such young people you don’t hear the word “cholesterol” even  once.

I went swimming again today.

The place never disappoints.

The room before the ladies lockers has mirrored walls and frequently has classes in it.

On occasion there is ballroom dancing or yoga or some other exercise thing.

Today there was a man juggling. I mean really juggling. He looked like a regular man but he had those professional pins and he was flipping them  in the air and through his legs.

I didn’t want to disturb him so I tiptoed through but it was so impressive that I stopped every few steps to watch while I continued on into the locker room.

As you walk into said locker room, the first room on the left is the shower room.

While I passed  I notice that there was an old woman standing outside the shower soaping herself . After she was all covered in bubbles she stepped back into the shower to rinse off.

Must I say it again? If you don’t look like Raquel Welch keep it under wraps.

And who gets out of the shower to use the soap? Taking a shower is a one room activity.

When I was in the pool I saw the fat guy again too. And guess what!  He’s Jewish.

Get your minds out of the gutter. He was wearing a mezuzah.

On  my way back to the locker room I again passed the juggler.  Still impressive.

My final look at him was on my way out after dressing.

While he was flipping his pins he smiled at me.

“I’ve really been enjoying watching you”  I was almost sorry as soon as I said it because then I had to stand there to show that I meant it and I really wanted to get home.

He liked having an audience and he kept throwing his pins higher and higher.

Luckily he reached his peak and I was able to leave when he hit himself in the shoulder and went down like a bag of peas.

Yesterday was the annual Christmas party held in the lobby of my building.

I’ve lived here since 1976 and this is the first time I’ve gone to it.

There are a lot of people I like in the building. Many of whom I know well enough to kiss them hello but don’t have a clue as to their names and since the other day I couldn’t remember how to spell “Saturday”, there isn’t much point in my learning them now.

It was a pretty good party, delicious food and plenty of wine and nice people but I once again was reminded of the fact that I have absolutely no ability for small talk.

That’s why all of a sudden I spit out something weird . Ask my nieces Julie and Stephanie if that isn’t true.

Just yesterday I was on the Bridgeport ferry with Steph to pick up her new dog. More about that later.

There was a guy picking up the trash and he asked us if anyone was drinking the full coffee cup and almost full soda cup on a nearby table since there was no one around.

A woman told him that she’d seen a lady put them down awhile ago but she hasn’t been back. The man picked them up and put them in the trash bag.

I turned to the woman and said,

“Obviously they didn’t want them. Who’d just leave their drinks there for anyone to spit in….In fact I was just about to spit in them.”

Stephanie just shook her head as the woman looked at me strangely.

Anyway back to the party.

I hung around and spoke to my friend Carol and a few others but for the most part I just waited for a reasonable  amount of time to pass so I could go home.

There was one highlight. A woman who has lived here for as long as I have told us that she was extremely upset because on the 21st the world was going to end. She had a real crazy look in her eyes.

“Are you talking about that Mayan calendar thing?”

That really pissed her off.

“Plenty of scientists have said it’s true”

So in my smart calming voice I tried to comfort her even though I haven’t liked her since 1984 when I picked up a package for her in Montauk and she never thanked me, but I don’t hold grudges.

“If you can’t do anything about it just relax and don’t think about it”

She started mumbling something about finding a fallout shelter but she didn’t know if it would help and she kept on mumbling as she wandered away.

That was pretty much the highlight of the party.

I said good night to my friends and probably said  something inappropriate to my super and went up to my apartment.

Oh and the puppy Steph got.

She is a 8 week old  jack russell puppy named Lucy. She’s a little fat ball with short little legs.

When we brought her home she just kept hiding under things so the other 2 dogs, a labrador retriever mix and a jack russell mix, couldn’t get near her.

This morning Steph called me and said that Lucy is sitting across from the other dogs with 3 chew sticks in front of her and any time one of the other dogs tries to get his chew stick back she growls at them.

I think she may be over her nervousness.

I went to hear Duke Gadd the night before last.

Even though Duke is the son of the legendary drummer Steve Gadd, he is so much more than that.

He is truly his own person as a musician. Everything he  played was so effortless and right.

He’s easy on the eyes too.

I was having a great time until one of the musicians, a guy in his 70’s, proudly announced that it was his 6 months anniversary to the way younger japanese woman who was also in the band.

You can bet there was one person not joining in on the smattering applause that followed.

All I kept thinking was there was probably a nee Sylvia Goldberg somewhere popping happy pills and ordering one bagel from Fresh Direct (that’s a food delivery service in New York) while those two were making goo goo eyes at each other on the stage.

Do I sound bitter? I”m sure not. I just calls ’em like I sees  ’em.

Anyway it’s clear I’m now officially a night owl.  I got home way after nine.

In fact I loved the band so much the other night  that later this week I’m going to hear Steve Gadd.

I hope he swings because the kid set the bar really high.

I did go out last night to hear Joe Caro’s band.

It was terrific and the joint was jammed with so many musicians I know.

Most of them already knew about me and dave but a few didn’t.

When I told them I had to keep insisting that I wasn’t kidding.

I really did have a wonderful time but I learned something. One drink or all I want to do is go home to bed.

I just realized I haven’t learned anything because I think I wrote that a few days ago.

Oh well.

There are 3 apartments on my floor, mine, David and Liz’s and Rupert, and a lovely french family and their long haired dachshund named Chicago but I call her Noodles for obvious reasons.

Liz and Rupe are in Santa Fe.

I got a call the other day from the french woman that there was a death in her family so would I mind Noodles for 4 days. Obviously I said “What are you nuts? I got a life”.

But since I don’t, what I really said was “Certainly”.

Puppies are not like old dogs.

Rupert gets in to bed and that’s that. Sometimes you even have to shake him in the morning.

The first night Noodles spent the whole time humping me while I tried to sleep.

I have to leave the terrace door open so she can go out and make at will. Don’t ask how cold my apartment is.

But the good thing is that I have beautifully trained her so when they get back they’ll have a dog that stands on the dining room table and expects to be fed whenever the people in her life eat.

It’s a miracle that I can accomplish that in only 4 days.