813. The Style Section

I consider this blog a chronicle of my life. I’ve written about my ups and downs, my family and friends. I’ve gotten political. I’ve discussed the arts.  How many times have I talked about the Real Housewives?

Sadly I”ve had to write some Obituaries.

I’ve done local and international news (remember the slut from Japan who stole my husband?)

Why don’t I just say it? I’ve been writing the New York Times of Mattie.

So as the title says, here is my first Style Section.

It’s Fall and the weather is starting to get snippy.  I suggest a medium blend sweater to fight off the chill but still give plenty of movement.


We still have warmer days that don’t warrant a sweater but due to inclement weather may scream a light jacket to keep one dry.


Then comes Winter. It’s time for the big guns. A fleece lined down jacket should do the trick.



As you can see, dealing with the changes in weather shouldn’t have to include a lack of style.

And don’t write to me about the pink thing sticking out of the model’s pee pee in the first picture. He was nervous because he thought the bold pattern made him look fat.


812. Tragedy thy name is lunch

Riiiingggg (that would be my phone ringing)

It was my nephew. He was driving back from a business meeting.

“I don’t know if I should even tell you this. It was so awful”

In any other family that could mean anything even death but my mind went to what would be the most likely for a relative of mine, either humiliation or food”

“Lay it on me”

He did.

“Since my meeting was at noon the guy I was going to see (We’ll call him Jared) suggested that he pick up lunch. I agreed “.(I started to lean towards food)

“When I get there he hands me my sandwich.

“I hope tuna is alright”

So I,(my nephew (who we’ll call Clark) is a real health nut ) not wanting to be difficult said “Sure”.

I open my sandwich. It was on a big white flour roll and the tuna was that mayonaisie mush.”

(Yep food)

“Then Jared opens his sandwich. It was a whole wheat wrap with fresh vegetables and turkey. The vegetables looked really crispy.

I couldn’t concentrate. All I could think about was “What about me suggested this overbloated white bread mess?” Is this how the guy sees me?

If he had gotten the same thing for himself I would have just put it down to a matter of taste but this just didn’t compute. If he thought his choices were acceptable why not offer to split the two sandwiches and each eat half?”

I understood completely. I too lived through something similar “The Day of the Jelly Sandwich” when I was stuck on a boat with my sister and she brought jelly sandwiches on packaged rye bread for lunch. Not peanut butter and jelly. Just jelly. (pull yourself together, Mattie. You’re getting all hot under the collar again and it was 60 years ago plus the perpetrator, my sister Iris, apologized numerous times and she’s even dead)

Back to me comforting Clark.

“It was the housing”


“Remember when Stephanie (my niece, Clark’s cousin) started crying in the car because Julie’s then boyfriend bought her a sandwich on incorrect housing? I believe it was a roll then too.”

“You’re right. It was the housing that put it over the edge. But Julie’s guy was a bank robber. What’s Jared’s excuse?”

NOTE: For more information on Julie’s bank robber boyfriend, you can find it in “Please Excuse My Daughter” by Julie Klam.

“Clark, you have to accept that sometimes things happen that are just unexplainable, like Yeti or the Kardashians. Let it go”

“I guess I’ll have to. By the way I ate some of it on the way home. It wasn’t bad.”

811. A good dog is better than a lousy husband any day

My niece Stephanie told me that if I write about Ray one more time she’s going to just erase my blog but this is a story that must be told.

I’ve had the flu this week. I stayed in bed for 2 days straight.

Since “Self Pity” is another of my names in addition to “Truth” I spent much of the time feeling sorry for myself and bemoaning the fact that since dave left me to endure my twilight years alone I had no one to comfort me.

I was just about to writhe around on my bed of pain when I bumped into a little fat warm body. That’s right, Raymond.

He never left my bed except to go out on the terrace to take care of business. Luckily Cheryl had gone home so I could leave the door open.

He spent the whole time snuggled up against me. I figured he might be getting bored so I  even brought some of his toys on the bed but he ignored them. He had a greater job to do.

This reminded me of 9/11.

dave and I watched the horrors of the attack pictured on our TV.  A few hours later dave put on his coat.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“To the office” He wanted to get to his friends so they could all discuss what was going on.

“Are you crazy? People all over New York are trying to get home to their families and you’re leaving?”

I could see he was annoyed but he took off his coat and later we gathered friends from the building to come up and so we could all find comfort together.

Raymond would never have dreamt of leaving me.


810. Guests and fish can be very bossy

You all know how much I love my niece, Cheryl.

In fact since I turned dave’s office into  a guest room she has been it’s primary resident. She even finished writing her last book there.

Whenever she tells me she’s coming to my town I’m more than happy.

Well let me tell you, you think you know someone until you know someone.

She got here the other day and everything was perfect. She met Raymond and thought him wonderful. He loved her too. I can’t tell you how thrilled I was that they both got along.

THAT IS until the first morning after her arrival when Cheryl showed her true colors. For your information those colors I speak of are shades of yellow forming a streak down her back.

I always leave my terrace door open so that if Ray wants to drop a deuce or pee during the night he can.

Which is what I told Cheryl  when I saw that she had closed that door before she went to bed.  I expected an “I’m sorry, sure”

What I got was “her going apeshit

“Your dog is trained. He doesn’t need to go out during the night. You have to close the door.”

“Why?” I really was puzzled.

“Because someone could come in and kill you”.

“I live on the 18th floor.” (When I told Julie about this conversation she said “Who’s going to get you Spiderman?”)

“They could come down from the roof.”

“I live in a doorman building. How is anyone going to get on the roof?”

“He could come from another building and jump on your terrace”

She was getting so excited that I didn’t even remind her that there were no buildings taller than mine. I just dropped it and figured I’ll open the door after she goes to sleep.

But after giving it some thought I realized that she’d just have to understand, my house my rules. The next night I put my foot down. I told her I was leaving the door open and she should just close the door to her room and put something heavy against it so that when the killer comes in he’ll only kill me.

She wasn’t happy but she seemed to accept it.

I had no sooner gotten into bed, turned on “Watch What Happens Live” and was just getting into the behind the scenes antics of the Housewives of New Jersey when my door flew open and Cheryl came storming in.

“I can’t go to sleep with that door open.”

Realizing that hillbillies (i.e. not New Yorkers) can’t be reasoned with I got up and closed the terrace door.

Suffice it to say at about 3 in the morning I sensed that Ray wasn’t in the bed since I was able to move my legs so I got up and went into the living room where he was standing by the terrace door with a puzzled look on his face. At least I assume that was what he was feeling.

I let him out and we both went back to bed.

Today at breakfast Cheryl decided to have a talk with me.

“I want you to promise me that you will keep that door closed even after I leave. I worry about you.”

“I’ve been living here for almost 40 years and during that time I’ve had Norman , Harry, Rupert (Liz’ dog) and now Ray and I’ve left the door open for all of them and nothing has happened to me.”

“You’ve just been lucky”

“You know I’m not lucky. If I was lucky my ice machine wouldn’t be broken.

In case you’re wondering that is no longer the case. It cost me almost 5oo bucks but it’s fixed now and Miss I’m So Worried About You never left the safety of her room to protect me from the hairy assed repairman while he worked on it.


I was just about to let bygones be bygones when Cheryl asked me if I would be so kind as to remove Raymond’s breakfast bowls from the table while she ate. And there I was thinking I was being thoughtful by picking his oatmeal bowl and egg bowl off the floor so no one would trip on them.

There’s just no way to please some people


809. The slippery slope of age isn’t all downhill. There are some stopovers.

I watched the video of various stars singing “God Only Knows” three times yesterday and twice today because I forgot the last 4 digits of my cell phone number at the drug store yesterday.

What does one thing have to do with the other? I’ll tell you.

In order to pick up my prescription I had to fill in those numbers. I was expecting it to be my home number but instead they asked for my cell phone.  I froze. I couldn’t remember them. I finally thought I knew them and typed in the last 4 numbers of Julie’s cell.

When they were rejected I could see the pity in the eyes of the girl that was helping me.

I pulled myself together and recited my whole number in my head and I put the correct numbers in.

My nose drops were released to my custody.

I said “Thank you”.

The girl answered “You’re welcome.” and as an after thought she added “Be well”

I left the store cringing.

Now the video.

“God Only Knows” by the Beach Boys is one of my favorite songs and the new video by various artists is wonderful.(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XqLTe8h0-jo).

When I got home I went on Facebook and saw a post by my cousin’s husband of that video. I had posted that same thing a few days before.

I was feeling low so I watched it again.

I realized that I knew many of the people singing. Not just the ones you’d expect me to know like Elton John or Chrissie Hynde or Dave Grohl, I also knew Florence Welch and Lorde and Pharrell Williams and even One Direction.

I immediately felt better. My brain was getting mushy but not totally liquid yet.

BTW who’s the babe on the horse? It looks like Rosanne Barr.


808. Latkes and other pancakes

Every November my sweet nephew Yitzhak visits me from Israel.

Every once in awhile he brings one of his children. He has 10 so he rarely has to repeat.  As I meet each child I fall in love again.

I’ve told you what a pain in the ass Yitz can be with the food. I spend the whole visit trying to make sure he doesn’t get cooties from a piece of cheese that hasn’t been blessed by Jesus or whoever blesses cheese.

His kids are a little looser. Maybe it’s because they were born into it rather than coming to it later in life like their father did.

Anyway Yitz called me last night.

I started the conversation by telling him how I can’t wait to see him. That’s really true. I’ve loved him so much since the day he was born.

“I might be bringing someone with me”

“Great, who”

“Well my son is coming for a kosher food convention. And when my daughter heard he was coming she wanted to come.”

“Cut to the chase. How many?”

“Four, but they all have places to stay”

“Are you serious? They will stay with me. I can absolutely make room for them”

“That would be great. But you don’t have to feed them. They’ll fill up at the convention.”

“Even better. Can you ask them to avert their eyes while I’m eating?. Of course I’ll feed them”

I could hear the sigh of relief on the other end.

“Eric, you do know I have a dog now.” I fall back on his birth name when I’m delivering bad news.

“I know” long pause “Do you think you could keep him in your room during the night?”

“No problem. I absolutely will discuss it with him and he will stay in my room at night unless he doesn’t want to stay in my room at night in which case he will go out of my room at night and hop into bed with one of you. BTW he likes to sleep under the covers”

I can’t wait to see them and hug the girls and not hug the boys.

I really am the luckiest girl in the world.

807. Tonight’s New Year’s Eve so Par-tay



Tonight is the beginning of Yom Kippur, the day of atonement.

I personally have been perfect  this year but in case I slipped up someplace my sister Marcia is fasting for me.

It is also Raymond’s first Yom Kippur. At least it’s his first Yom Kippur with me and though he started off pretty good he’s feeling quite at home now and frankly in the past few weeks he’s turned into a real prick.

Oh he’s going along with all the surface stuff like wearing the yarmulke without bitching but he still thinks who he is.

He’s not doing anything that could be considered a sin but he’s not the easy dog I thought I was getting when I saw that pathetic picture of him in the pound.

I’ve complained of his behavior on walks. If I don’t go exactly where he wants he stops and grips the ground until, after trying each direction, I hit on one he likes and he continues on. If I’m in a hurry or it starts to get dark, the outing turns into a dog drag. Not fun for anyone.

I mean I’m not going to make him fast or anything but only 5 pieces of cheese instead of his usual 8 should help him repent at least in the eyes of God.

As you know (being students of all religions), yahrzeit candles must be lit at sundown in memory of the loved ones we’ve lost.

I light them for my mother, Pearl, my father, Saul, my sister Iris and my other sister Phyllis. I miss them all terribly.

I just looked in my cabinet and saw that I only have 3 candles. I know you think I only need one more but I always light extra ones for my mother because I feel she’d want to make the other ghosts jealous.

So Shanah Tovah to all of you and thank you for reading my blog.

I wish all of you a happy and healthy new year.