321.Sometimes a little tweak can make the difference between “War and Peace” and “Warts and Peas”

I have a pretty good day planned for today.

Cheryl and I are having lunch with Julie. Will we laugh? I think so.

Cheryl is going home tomorrow. I will miss her terribly but her family really needs her, specially the girls.

Why just last night her oldest, Sadie, while chastising her father for not seeing that she had clean pants to wear to school today (he actually did but she didn’t look in the dryer) said:

“I really miss Mommy. She does the work of four people.”

It brought a tear to my eye just hearing that heartfelt sentiment. I wonder if it’s too late to have kids?

I feel like I have a full time job. Why just this morning as soon as I finished watching “Shah’s of Sunset” I had to run over to my computer and work on my book.

BTW I hear that Mike from that show is going to pose for Playgirl so it looks like we’re going to see his wiener. I’m looking forward to that. So the people who thought that I wouldn’t have much of a life without dave are laughing out of the other side of their mouths now, huh?

But that has nothing to do with what I was trying to say.

I write for awhile and then Cheryl comes in and looks at it and makes a few suggestions (I say “a few” but in one paragraph the only word that I wrote that she found acceptable was “when”)

Don’t worry, this has a point.

This morning I got an email from dave asking me to give him the email address of Ron, our computer guy.

I didn’t have it but I know someone who does, his previous partner, Deborah. I was just about to write to Deb when Cheryl came in and I explained what I was doing.

“Why are you writing to her to get Ron’s address? Give dave her email address and let him do it. You don’t have to make things easy for him any more”

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That’s exactly what I did. I guess it’s good to have an editor in life too.

320. Becoming Ernest Hemingway is no easy feat.

Still trying to turn this turd into a diamond.

Writing a book is nothing like writing a blog. And I’m getting help.

My friend Brenda went over what I wrote and made really helpful comments and so did Cheryl. I”m taking in what they both said and trying to incorporate it into my voice. And here’s the conclusion I’ve come to.

This is fucking hard.

They say I have to think of myself like a character. I have to describe myself.

You  just try doing that. I’ve been fighting my weight all my life. I’m definitely overweight but when I tried to describe myself for the book the closest I could get was “not thin”. Don’t worry, I’m not a blimp but I could definitely afford to lose a few. Well maybe a little more than a few.

Even talking about dave. I can write about all the mean things he’s done but I can’t write anything mean about who he is. I still won’t say anything that I think will hurt him.

This blog may be the best I can do. That wouldn’t be too terrible. It’s saved my life.

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At my lowest point I found something I love to do. I sit down in front of my computer thinking I have nothing to say and the words just flow. If I didn’t have this the loss of my husband would have devastated me. Now for the most part it’s just been a forced change of direction. Well a little more than that but I think you know what I mean.

So I’ll still try to write this book but I’ll keep up with my true love, my blog.

More important than all that. I’m trying to cut costs so I’ve got to decide “People” or “Us” ?

319.Lucy and Ethel always bought new hats behind their husband’s backs

I just got an email from my nephew Eric in Israel asking if I’m alright because I haven’t written on my blog in awhile.

I realized that my pretty big family relies on my keeping in touch via this blog so they know that I’m still kicking.

I am.

I’m snowed in. Esther or whatever stupid name they’ve given this storm has snowed me in, at least for a few hours. After all this is NYC. This city will be up and around in no time.

My niece, Cheryl is visiting me. She’s helping me turn my blog into what I hope will be a book. It isn’t easy. I have to go over all the parts in my life I’m trying to forget. Everyone who tries to help me tells me to read some great writer. When I do all it does is remind me that I barely know what I’m doing. I wish they would recommend a crappy writer so I will feel superior and march forward.

Maybe I could write a TV show. There is no TV I watch that isn’t aimed at the lowest common denominator.

Another thing people keep telling me is that in order to tell my story I have to say what I was and how far I’ve come. This is a problem for me. I’m the same old person. I really haven’t changed at all. Rolling with the punches doesn’t make you a better person it just makes you the same person with black and blue marks.

I can’t even get a dog. I love dogs so much but they paralyze me. I can’t bear to leave them alone so having one would keep me from ever leaving my house except to go someplace the dog likes. Then I would be right back where I was before dave left me only instead of spending my vacations on that fucking boat I’d be centering my life on only places where there were asses to sniff.

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I know it doesn’t sound like it but I’m in a pretty good mood. Maybe I’ll buy a hat.

318.Different kinds of love and the Superbowl

I know I sounded sad on my last post but that was just momentary and beside I won’t be writing anything like that again.

The next day I went up to Steph’s . She never minces words. When she picked me up she told me that she wouldn’t discuss my last blog. Then she proceeded to discuss it.

She said she was disgusted by that post because I should be over this already and if I don’t hate dave then I have no self respect.

She’s an interesting girl. We were out yesterday having a wonderful lunch with her sister, Randy and her husband Adam.  On the way home she wanted to stop and get her husband a cigar because it would make him happy.

When she gave it to him I said “She loves you so much” and he laughed and said “I know but the only reason I do is because I gleen it, not from anything she says”

And I realized he’s right. She rarely says anything nice to us but we know she loves us and we can count on her like the morning.

She’s just like her mother. I never felt so loved my anyone in my life but she never me showed any affection. I remember we were on a sailboat once with dave and Iris’ husband Bernie.

A bad storm was brewing and none of us knew much about sailing at that time but when the coast guard came by and asked if we needed help, Bernie said we were fine.

Iris was furious. While she was telling Bernie what an idiot he was she was roughly putting a life jacket on me. The rougher she was, the more she loved you.

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I have a lot to do today. I”m quite busy.

I’m going to Costco with David this morning and this afternoon I’m meeting two of my favorite people Brenda Copeland, editor extraordinaire and my darling Julie for cocktails.

I like having cocktails. Especially with those two. They really know how to party.

Then it’s home for the Superbowl.

I thought I’d still be up at Steph’s for Superbowl so I took David aside the other day and said that I had some very bad news for him.  I wouldn’t be able to share the Superbowl with him.

“So what’s the bad news?”

I don’t know why I always have to push my way into his apartment. It’s not like I’m not useful and he’s not a dope.

For the past week he’s been showing me his iPod that Lizzie bought him for  Christmas and telling me. “It won’t do anything. I charged it and it’s just blank. And I put all my music on it.”

And he didn’t just tell me once. He probably told me 10 times. He just looks at it sadly and shakes his head.

“Bring it back to the Apple store. It’s new”

He looks at me with a shocked expression. “I’m not going into that madhouse”

I said “Listen I’ll be near there today or tomorrow. I’ll bring it back. Where’s the receipt?”

“Liz must  know”

When I called Liz she didn’t even sound surprised that I was doing this for him. She knows that he can’t do stuff like this. He travels all over the world doing million dollar deals but he’s afraid of the Apple store.

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You know how it takes a village? Well one member of that village is in Santa Fe and she’d better get her ass back here soon.

Now what’ll I wear for the Superbowl?

317. I’m a puzzlement even to myself.

I had a weird day yesterday.

My lawyer called me from the courthouse and said she had just filed my divorce papers.

“What now?” I asked.

“Now we wait until a judge signs them”.

“And then I’m divorced?”

“Yep”

I know she expected me to speak but the silence just went on until  she said to call if I needed her and we both said good bye.

I guess I should have said thank you or something. I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how I felt. It’s been over a year and I still don’t know how I feel.

I don’t think I hate dave. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him.

We don’t speak and I don’t know anything about his life now.

Hell, when I really think about it I didn’t know anything about his life when we were together.

It’s funny that I have no idea about what I think. I have an opinion on everything.

I don’t pass a person on the street when I don’t give a critical thought about how they’re wearing their hair but how I feel about the way that my life is turning out? I haven’t a clue.

The day ended with a dental appointment. I had my teeth cleaned by Jody.

She loves me and I love her so she tries very hard to be protective of me.

She kept saying I have to take better care of my gums but each time she said it she tried to apologize.

Usually after she cleans my teeth my dentist comes in and examines them.

He’s definitely one of those people that I can’t live without. He’s sweet and kind and gentle and he kisses me hello and good bye but he will tell me negative things so I told him he couldn’t touch my teeth.

I simply couldn’t hear one more bad thing that day. I told him he could see my tits or my teeth at a distance but that was the extent of what I was willing to share that day.

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I just realized that I wrote “one more bad thing” so I guess I do know how I feel about the divorce being so close.

Bad.