I forgot all my passwords for 2 weeks.
everyone has the flu.
my hard drive failed.
my favorites were not saved.
I can’t remember anything.


As Maine Goes..


, goes the Nation. An euphemism from an older time re:voting.
That hurricane.
Why I cut my hair when it was perfect. I have hair issues. Don’t we all?
I’ve come to believe it’s a reflection of our own personal mental barometer. A primeval warnng syndrome to others.
Never look back. Really. Don’t. What’s done is done and here we are now.
The what-if dept. never closes.
Always omit your age, real or actual. It’s considered rude to ask a lady such a question. THIS is one of the prime (haha) reasons I hate math.Unless it involves large amounts of money in small bills.
People lie, or as my dear Papa used to say, “omit the facts”. Just try not to be too incredulous when this happens. Save that for when you are safely home, door closed, and can rellect upon this at your leisure.
More later dearies.

those I have lost


these last few years have been hell with onions on them. I have lost so many friends, loved ones, you name it.

there are no answers only the small comfort of no more suffering.

I will miss Turquoise/Violet/Julie whose life was completely recreated astonishly enough to suit her purposes. What effort that paid off in such grand fashion. Sadly, one cannot control outside influences, but she will always be in my heart.

This is a day for reflection.

I loved them all.


Before I Forget

This will be an ongoing rambling of things/events at different times in my life that I want to remember.

Walking up Laurel Canyon as a kid, saving jacarada and bouganvilla blossoms to press in copy of “Alice In wonderland”.

Learning to swim at 11. The freedom. Finding a public pool in West Hollywood that was heated which became my home away from home that summer of 64.

Le Conte Jr. High. the right time, the right place. Although I did confuse the Peace sign with the VW logo. Having my knees lock up inevitably when a bell rang to change classes.

the teenage fair at the Hollywood Pallidium 1966.

Moving to Tucson due to divorce (parents) and entering a place where time stood still meeting some of the cruelest people in my life ever. the hottest goddamn place I have ever lived.

The way the sky looked in the winter in Tucson, cold as could (remember I was a kid from L.A.) be, watching the ducks lift off in the morning against the sunrise.

Having my first nervous breakdown while registering for high school in NYC. I couldn’t speak, dropped a cup, walked into traffic on 2nd avenue, hoping I’d get hit by a car. I was 13.

The Ranch Market in Hollywood with the clock that never stopped whizzing it’s arms around, 24 hrs a day, 365 days a year.

Chickenpox.. Sunburn from Salton Sea. Which left scars, so I could have something to remember it by.

What I will never forget is my father and his driven need to travel. A school in it’s own right.

My cats, all now gone to kitty heaven. But when they were here, they were the supreme friends. I love you all still.

More later.

Half Time

This year has been a difficult one. Aside from losing a most beloved friend, more medical problems than were necessary (read: working the insurance), causing me more worry for new wrinkles than needed, my son & his she-devil wife now expecting their first child, on and on it goes. But, and I use this carefully, there seems to be light breaking throught the clouds. It will involve rearranging the furniture, so to speak. But, change is good. And my time in this place is done. No more babysitting.

More will be revealed later as it unfolds.

Bonne Chance!

Carpe Diem

This is a sad day. My lovely friend, the grand and glorious Miss Turquoise passed into the ether the other morning after a long and horrible illness.

Words fail me. I can only quote Dylan Thomas: “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.. Do not go gently into that dark night”.

Turquoise, wherever you are, you will be missed beyond words.


Them’s The Rules – It’s French Revolution Time, Start Knitting!

Firstly, I must thank Violet for this topic. Clever, sophisticated, and undaunted in the face of a hurricane, I dedicate this to Miss V.


Okay,on to topic. Rules. Ordinarily I make the rules, and sometimes bend them until they break. to serve my needs.

Here they be:

1. No, never, at any time is there smoking in my vicinity. The scars in my lungs from other turmoils forbid this habit.

2. In no way or fashion, does “smooth jazz” (an oxymoron for morons), “mellow”  or any other invade my reality. It is annoying, mindless, and will enrage me to do things whereby I might be on tv in a bad way.. If I want to listen to the Doors 87,000 times in a row,  that’s what it’s gonna be. Followed by Siouxsie/Banshees. Classical is acceptable Disco as well. C/W only while drivng through Quartzite.


3. TV only for the following instances: “Ab Fab”, shopping for faux coats, and breaking news in case of riots. Which I have been through to the point of being driven out of my home due to incessant tv “coverage”, more like a goddamn  map for destruction. TV is the devil’s dues ex machina.

4. An actual road atlas, map, compass, water, wooden boards, rope, hammer, oil, antifreeze, and blanket in the trunk. I have heard that stupid mapstar or wtf it is called actually say “Left turn. Crash into building” while at an intersection.

5. Flush the terlit, as my Irish grandmother (more like hateful nasty old lady, but I’m being kind here), put a new roll on when needed, clean hair out of shower/sink,  and do not give the iguana a bath so it can take an oodle in the tub.

6. Don’t touch my stuff. I know where everythng is, just ask politely.  Or I’ll throw you straight through the door. Unopened. Especially perfume.

7. Any cat “jokes”, meanness, i.e., my cat is an extension of me, tread lightly.The outcome for offenders will make the French revolution look like a church picnic.

There are probably lots more. But I am tired and fain would lie down.

Oh, yes. It’s a full moon and I’m feeling feline. Here’s an interestng factoid. I went to file for my last and final divorce on 9/11. It was granted on the same date that my father had passed away the year before. Figure it out, I can’t.



If I’d Known it Was Going to Be Like This, I’d have raised more hell


, ,

Yesterday I had an angioplasty.For those of you unfamilar with this, it is a procedure where they insert a small camera into your vena artery. This is located down by your legs, so you also get a free! yes free! brazilian strip so they can insert the needle full of iodine into the crease between your leg and trunk. Then, it’s threaded up into your heart , the iodine is let loose, you are xrayed in a device that always makes me feel I am in a jet engine sounding eerily the same. Then a sedagive (I wrote it that way on purpose for those in the know -abby, abby normal?) flows into your veins to woo you into the land of the otherwise.

This was done because a issue arose last week, and being a woman, they JUST love to experiment on you. The issue being they said they “found” a 75-50 percent blockage after I went to the ER with some odd symptoms that might be a heart related issue.
Well, the upshot of all this is that the fucking idiot radiologist didn’t read it right the first time and this is what was decided upon. I detest hospitals as well due to fact that all those perky little nurses who are really trolling for dr. husbands are a sore point with me. To that end I regard them as my personal slaves. And they always wear the most ghastly cheap perfume (to wit:oh, I’m wearing Britny Spears ‘cos it comes in sucha pretty bottle”. I rest my case.
So I wake up in bed and cannot move my right leg as I might bleed to death if I do.
No sleep. Just more blood taken. Every 5 hrs. Hell has nothing on these places.
Anyway, the blockage is only 4% in the bone (thank you AZ for the calcium) and can be elimniated by my meds.
Shakespeare should have added the phrase “…and all the doctors too!” to the famous line about lawyers.
It’s off to try and sleep, gentle readers. Maybe there will a nice earthquake to distract me from feeling like a giant pincushion.