Friday, August 30, 2013


My destiny is to advise, cajole, instruct and nudge; AKA Nagging

Which brings me to this nag. 

If you can postpone your compulsive #Twerking for just one minute take a look at Sonia Marsh's website here 

I was nominated as a "Gutsy Lady." Yup me, even though I am scared of some spiders I seem to be brave in other areas of life. 
I was encouraged to enter Sonia Marsh's "My Gutsy Story" and I did.   

So if you go to the link below and consider voting for me that would be lovely. 

Thank you.
Pin It!

Monday, August 26, 2013


Prayers have been answered.  Bikini season is almost over.  The world is better off;  at least in my zip code anyway.

Since 1990, to get ready for the beginning of the summer and the traumatic occasion, I have been on exercise bicycles that go nowhere and leave me spinning; inner journeys that lead to serenity but do not register on Google Earth or my GPS. I did jog once and thought I heard applause but it simply turned out to be my thighs hitting together.  The clapping annoyed my neighbors so much they paid me to leave the neighborhood, thus turning flab into fortune; even enough to buy a Cronut®.

Wouldn’t it be grand if after every bit of exercising we could see the fat falling to the ground lying like a lump and then…we could observe the scene as the Flabinator came by to remove it and take it wherever excess blubber goes?  By the way, where does it go?
I know where I’d like it to go. As an organ donor I am leaving my cellulite to Heidi Klum just so she gets to experience the joys of these love dimples. Till then I am keeping it in a warm place.

As a last resort I tried a couple of new diets.
On one I could to eat anything I desired within 2 minutes using only one chopstick. Didn’t work out as well as I had planned after I became an expert at spearing whole hams.

The one when I ate only when a politician wasn’t being hypocritical put me on a dangerous course of too much weight loss so I tossed it out which I’d love to do with some of them as well.

What I have learned from all these experiences is to read advice more carefully.

Eat less exercise more. What a concept!
I had it backwards!!!
Pin It!

Thursday, August 15, 2013

Blue Jasmine, Woody & Jan

Once again I must kvetch. Jasmine is not your usual Woody Allen film.  Actually since the last century there has not been a usual Woody film; that is, one with the belly laugh type of humor that attracted me to you.
Please be clear Mr. Woody; it is not that I do not want you to grow as a person or as filmmaker.
But consider this;
Does Toyota assemble underwear?
Everyone has a specialty and generally stays with it, perhaps ever so gently exploring other fields.  Not you.  You have possibly and perhaps only in my opinion, partially relinquished what is truly the best part of you. Being one of the funniest people and judge of the neurosis’s of humans that ever was.  Freud was a piker compared to you.
I do not mean to be critical.  I must point out that I truly adore you. Frankly, till my laser surgery I only dated men who resembled you.
In truth, it is really a wonderful film though I did get a little nauseous with the constant past and present switching. Then again I ran out of mustard and put mayo on my pastrami snack that I snuck into the theater. Those two ingredients should never be in the same room at the same time according to folk lore. So maybe it wasn't you.
In this film we see stunning homes in Manhattan and the Hamptons that I would move into this minute if we were together.
As usual, your choice of music is divine and spot on.  I was almost removed from the theater as I danced and swirled across the aisles.
No doubt you are a master at casting, as well. The choice of Andrew Dice Clay (who could have ever imagined) who did, by the way, an excellent job, and the always terrific Bobby Cannavale, were genius choices.
The film is both intriguing and heart breaking. One can’t help thinking of the Madoff mess no matter your intention.
Yet, brilliant as it was it had no chuckles which is part of my attraction to you; and of course the physical thing.
What does linger in this whole viewing experience is probably the best acting ever in this century with your choice of the luminous Cate Blanchett who should receive an Oscar, Emmy, a Cronut, two snaps and any other award in existence.
Getting back to my emotions.
We have so much in common, Woody.
Both of us are Brooklyn born. I too, had Friday Family Fun night where my folks exchanged gun fire or gum at the weekly ritual depending on how the brisket browned.
It is well known that certain disagreements about white fish caused massive violence in your home. Well, my grandma almost perished while weighing a perch and we switched to Sashimi on Shabbes, which was so traumatic.  Woody, it is as if we are twins.
I‘ve been silent until now, because of the NSA’s involvement with the IRS and the FCC’s plus their conflict with the rest of the alphabet.  I say PU!  I am now taking a stand.
So about Jasmine: you should know I had to coerce my lover to attend the movie with me and he promptly went into a coma until the gorgeous radiant Cate Blanchette appeared.  Such magnificence. She is one of the truly finest actors of all time.  He particularly loved her shoes.
Your recent movies are interesting and so are you.  I miss my old Woody, though. Let us settle this.  I want to help you discover when you had your laughectomy.
Come to California.  Cheese fondling is no longer a felony in LA, so you will not be apprehended.
Finally my dear friend; funny is what you do better than anyone. it already. I am going Bananas here. Don’t make me get up, Woody. I have a gub.
Love, Jan
PS. I have seen Hana and her sisters seven times, but you …I never hear from!       
Pin It!

Friday, August 2, 2013

Famous Lost Words

Once a very wise person said, “He who has butter on his head should not walk in the sun.”  I myself do not know who uttered those unforgettable words, but I can only supposed it was someone’s parent.
       Parents seem to have this knack for offering advice to their children and proclaiming it in such a manner that the youngster believes it.  Unfortunately, when the child becomes the adult, he may interpret the cliché in a manner not at all the way it was intended.
       For example, Zsa Zsa Gabor’s mom probably made a casual remark, “It’s just as easy to marry a rich guy as a poor one,” as they were strolling past a mountain in Hungary.  Perhaps it was Echo Mountain, and the saying resounded through the hills.  All Zsa Zsa could hear was “marry, marry, marry,” and she did, did, did.
       My cuddly friend Clara was told repeatedly to “Eat over the sink.”  The reason she was told this was to avoid getting crumbs on her mother’s clean kitchen floor.  But somehow the point did not register.  To this day, whenever Clara sees a sink, she has this awful urge to eat.
       One of the most infuriating people I know is a free-lance bartender who practices psychology on the side.  He has worked the top Hollywood parties and cured a lot of celebrities.  But just because his rigid father advised him,
“If you can’t say anything nice about someone, don’t say anything at all have to suffer. No matter how I bribe him to tell me the raunchy stuff, he declines. He’s pathetic.
       I myself, was brought up according to false ideals as well. My mother always told me
“It is just as easy to do things right as to do things wrong,” and I bought that jazz.  That is, I believed it until I was able to experiment in my own home.
One day I took the largest blanket I owned and attempted to fold it the “right” way.  I took one end and walked it over to the other.  I then creased it in the middle and folded it once more and then repeated the process a third time. 1 whole minute shot to hell. 
I then proceeded to do it my way (the wrong way).  I rolled the cover in a ball and squished it into the closet.  Three- and-a-half seconds altogether, including closing the closet door on my thumb.
       I am one of the lucky ones.  One of my dearest friends is not so fortunate as to distinguish what applies to her life and what does not.  Her mother continually gave her obscure messages, which accounts for my friend’s dazed expression at times.
With no apparent reason and at any time of the day her mom would make statements like,
“Remember, Vilma, if you go in the back you come out the front.”
“If God meant chickens to fly, He would have given them wings.” Vilma knows her mom told her these things for her own good.  She just doesn’t know why.
       After watching Vilma search her psyche for the reasons for fronts and backs and flying and chickens, I’m thankful that I was able to separate what was true and what was merely cliché.  Still, every time I open a closet and a blanket falls on my head, I remember Mama and feel guilty.
Pin It!