Tuesday, September 2, 2014

A Short Week

If it's Tuesday, it must be Wednesday.
It's a going to be one of those weeks. A short week. A week where every day, I wonder what day it is. Take today for example. Today feels like Monday. But it's not Monday, bitches. It's Tuesday. Tomorrow will feel like Tuesday. But it won't be Tuesday. It will be...wait, don't tell me. Wednesday? Yes, Wednesday. All week it will be one of those weeks. A short week. A week where I'm slightly off my game. By Saturday, which will feel like Friday, I may or may not have figured this week out. By Sunday, which will feel like Saturday, I'll be counting the days till the week is over. And then a new week will begin.
A few survival tips to get you through this short week:
1. Act taller.
2. Don't take any nude selfies.
3. If someone asks what day it is, say, "Who wants to know?"
4. Don't send any nude selfies to loved ones.
5. Keep your clothes on till next week.

Monday, September 1, 2014

Ready To Push

Well, that's one way to get the baby out.
Dear SJG,
At the neighborhood block party today, I'm bringing a nice salad and planning to recreate giving birth. I've been rehearsing my interpretative "Ooo, Baby Baby" hora daily. I've hired a Bar Mitzvah DJ and everything. But my husband thinks this is a terrible idea -- the interpretative baby hora, not the salad. I keep telling him it's Labor Day, silly, what's the problem? I need your guidance.
Thanks,
Ready to Push

Dear Pushy,
I see nothing wrong with bringing a nice salad, as long as you put the dressing on the side. People are so picky these days. God forbid you should douse the lettuce with a little too much balsamic vinaigrette. It could lead to a brawl. The interpretative baby hora does sound fun, and totally appropriate for a block party with little children running around. Just make sure your hospital gown stays tied in the back, and remember to share the epidural with everyone.
You're Welcome,
The SJG

Sunday, August 31, 2014

Questions, So Many Questions

There are so many questions that plague the SJG, so many deep issues to ponder on a daily basis, I'm learning to separate the serious Modern Day dilemmas from the moderately troubling. Here are the top five things on my keppy today:
1. If I wear white after Labor Day, will I be shunned during Sherman Oaks Fashion Week, where I plan to debut the new SJG Fall Schlepwear Collection?
2. Will the SJG Telethon raise enough money to pay for the patio renovations?
3. Why didn't "SJG: Duets With Famous Dead People" do better on iTunes? I was in tune most of the time. Abraham Lincoln? Not so much.
4. Will I ever break my debilitating double-spacing addiction?
5. If a bagel falls in the kitchen, but nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

Saturday, August 30, 2014

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like...


... A newly-pavered patio.


And a built-in barbecue.


And at some point, God willing in the near future, a done deal.  

Friday, August 29, 2014

The Visitors

The Sherlocks of Brighton:  
Jon, Irina, Alfred and Evelina

Last night at dinner, an iffy buffet of just-delivered cold pizza and salad sans dressing, I asked Jon Sherlock, the very tall visiting Brit I've known since he was six, "What's a typical day like for you?"

A brief moment of backstory, as we writer-types say:  In 1947... excuse me... 1977, I lived in England for a year, a junior abroad situation. I had the best time, wandering round the English countryside, in search of Shakespeare and beer. I found the beer. I found the Sherlocks, too. Jon's parents Lynne and Mike pretty much adopted me that year. I'd show up at their door in Hove and say, "Feed me, please," and they would. It was a smashing arrangement. Later, I'd watch the Muppets with Jon and brother Bob, six and four at the time, never knowing that one day, Jon would have a big important job doing something bio-techie.
Scotty with the adorable Sherlock kids

"It's fairly higgledy-piggledy," Jon said, in answer to my job-related question. "Excuse me? Back up a sec there, Jon. What did you just say?" "Higgledy-piggledy?" "What's that mean?" "You're not familiar with higgledy-piggledy?" "No, and I lived in England." "I remember." "I think you're making it up." "No, I'm not." "It sounds made up." "I didn't make it up." "Prove it." "Let's Google it, shall we?" At this point, Scotty went a-Googling and came up with: "Hickety-pickety, my black hen. She lays eggs for gentleman." "So, Jon, are you saying your day is like a Mother Goose rhyme? I'm so confused." "No, I'm saying my day is higgledy-piggledy." "With a D?" "Yes." "Not a K?" "No." "Maybe you're saying it wrong." "I'm not."


At this rate, I realized I would never know what higgledy-piggledy meant, and I was okay with that.  Hours later, after the Sherlocks had departed for their luxury hotel in Santa Monica, Jon sent me a link to the Oxford dictionary. "Higgledy-piggledy: in confusion or disorder. Late 16th century: rhyming jingle, probably with reference to the irregular herding together of pigs."

So the whole bio-techie thing is just a big ruse. I always suspected Jon was an irregular pig herder. Glad we cleared that up.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

That's Nice

Rehearsing the first dance
Who doesn't love a good wedding? It's like saying you don't love love. Who doesn't love love? Personally, I'm a big fan of love. I'm all about the love. So when I found out this morning that a certain globe-trotting couple got hitched, I smiled. I couldn't wait to share the news with hubby.  "Guess who got married?" Without missing a beat, he said, "Jennifer Aniston?" Hubby knows I'm on Team Jennifer. I just love her. I'm more invested in her happiness than those other two. I'm happy when Jen's happy. In this way, I'm a little bit confused about boundaries and my own version of reality, but who isn't? I don't have to defend why I love Jennifer Aniston. Or why I gave a shrug when my close friends on the Today Show told me, "Brad and Angie got married over the weekend in France." Post-smile, I thought, "A big deal. If you've got money, you can travel." Well, that's not very generous, is it? But seriously, 10 years and six kids later, it's nice that they made it official. But I'm on Team Jennifer. So if and when Jennifer gets hitched to Justin, I'll be happier for them. I can't help it. I'm a little bit loyal, even to the famous folks who aren't that invested in my happiness. I'm a natural-born giver. I give and I give. It's all in the SJG Once-A-Day DNA, still awaiting FDA approval.
Not in attendance

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Any Changes?

"Any changes?"
"In terms of -- ?"
"Your breasts."
"Gee, that's a little personal, don't you think?"
"Well, you are having a mammogram. "
"I know, I know. But couldn't you finesse it a bit? Work up to it, not just come right out and ask about my boobies? Like, you could say, 'What a cute top. Any changes going on under there?' And then I'd say, 'No, everything's good, kina hora... poo poo poo."
"Helpful, thanks. Any other changes?"
"In terms of --?"
"Insurance."
"Same."
"Address?"
"Same."
"Religious affiliation?"
"Are you allowed to ask that?"
"I just thought I'd throw it in there."
"Still Jewish. Very, very Jewish."
"Any other changes?"
"In terms of -- ?"
"Grandchildren?"
"No."
"Weddings?"
"No."
"Domestic upgrades?"
"Funny you should ask. My patio is currently in the middle of something."
"I'll make a note of it on your chart. Now, sit down and wait till your name is called."
"That last part needs work."
"You're invited to sit down and enjoy one of our magazines from 2010."
"Better."