Thursday, July 20, 2017

Ping, Ping!

I hear a ping and my heart wants to sing.
My hopes start to soar, I've felt this before.
I pick up my phone, a dog with a bone.
I drool, I pant, my Pavlovian chant.
I've got mail, woo hoo! I pray it's from you!
Like a big dope, I tap the envelope.
Expecting to see a message from thee.
Instead what I get says Adopt-A-Pet,
Or Shop It To Me, It's Time For A Spree!
From Kate Hudson's site, a tank top in white.
Amazon Prime selling books about crime.
Hulu and NetFlix, so many new picks.
I just want to scream, it's all a bad dream.
Green Eggs and Ham, I do not like this Spam.

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

The She Shed On The Left

Coming Soon to SJG-Flix:"The She Shed On The Left." Shayna Maidela and Patty Von Punim, besties since pre-school, look forward to a mini-vacay at a remote Sherman Oaks She Shed, where they can craft assorted crap, bake teeny-tiny bundt cakes, prank-text ex-loser boyfriends and guzzle sun-brewed peach tea to their hearts' content -- until they realize, oy vey, there's no bathroom in this here She Shed! WTF! And don't even get them started on the sucky Wi-Fi! With no one to kvetch to but each other, they accept the absence of a luxury commode and take turns going wee-wee in the woods... unaware that an imbalanced, crazy core-blasting Pilates instructor named Carlotta Crisscross has invaded their nirvana! Carlotta holds them hostage and forces Shayna and Patty to plank till they nearly plotz. Thank God, Shayna manages to escape Carlotta's cruelty and make her way back to her beloved yoga hang, Namastay Home. Faster than you can say "Shavasana," Shayna recruits Hatha hotties Tali, Trisha and Toots to help take on Carlotta, strap her to her own reformer and free Patty Von Punim. Can you say happy ending? Not so fast. Look out for the crew of Taekwondo sh*t-kickers up ahead... 

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Safe Travels

Wowza, I've been busy this summer. Thanks to the sons and their international sweethearts, I've gone to London, Nice and Paris. Coming up soon, Bruges, Amsterdam and Helsinki. Best part? I haven't had to pack a suitcase. And you know how the SJG hates to pack. Oh, wait. Ex-squeeze me so much. I did have to pack for Temecula. But mainly, I've been right here in my comfy palatial estate, compulsively viewing those adorably quick video stories on Instagram, very big with the young people, and by young people, I mean not only my sons and their lovely significants others, but also the daughters and sons of my closest friends, who've generously taken me to Japan and Hawaii. I am having the best time, too. No jet lag. No airport delays. No aggravation. No expense.
Who knew traveling could be so easy? In this way, I'm an accidental tourist, collecting cyber souvenirs of other people's adventures. Sad, you say? How dare you. Listen, I've been here and there. I've gone plenty places. I'll probably go places again. But right now, I'm traveling vicariously through others, and that suits me just fine.

Monday, July 17, 2017

Resting Cry Face

Now and then, the people come up to me and ask, "SJG! When you gonna write that book?" This question generates numerous reactions, ranging from casual weeping to utter and complete despair. Do they not understand how many books I've attempted to write? Find me a writer who hasn't written a book and I'll eat my yarmulke. I haven't given up the dream, not yet, anyhow. Why? I'll tell you why. Because you never know, you know. So here are some potential titles for my next attempt at greatness. Please weigh in on which titles scream Bestseller or Bargain Bin:

"Constant Cleavage: The Search Continues"

"Oh, Eff That: The SJG's Book of Intolerance"

"Bitch, Please: The SJG's Anti-Aging Tips"

"Better You Than Me"

"I Know You Are, But What Am I?"

"Leave and Never Darken My Towels Again"

"When The SJG Met Sir Blakey: A Love Story"

"An Oy Vey A Day Keeps The Doctor Away"

"Oy vey, I'm stuck."

Sunday, July 16, 2017

Request Denied

Approximate size
I went into this Facebook thing with an open mind.  I knew there was some weirdness out there, some debauchery n' stuff, but I figured, hey, I am the SJG, I can handle it.  Bring it.  Throw it at me.  Hit me with your best shot.  Take me into the unknown.  I'll survive.  Game on.  Like everyone, I've had some intriguing friend requests, from people I don't know, but they know people I know, or they know the people of people of people I sort of know.  So, generous gal that I am, I accept their requests because it's all about the numbers.  When it comes to getting new readers for my humble blog, I'm a big 'ho.  Still, the other day I got a friend request I simply couldn't accept, and here's where I'd be remiss if I didn't say Parental Discretion Advised.  This is a family blog, doncha know.  I force members of my family to read it, whether they want to or not.  The other day, I had a friend request from some random dude.  I clicked on his page and looked at the photo.  Big mistake.  I will not tell you exactly what I saw, for I am a lady who just attended a ladies literary luncheon.  But I will drop a giant, euphemistic hint.  It was a big ol' you-know-what!  An X-rated something-something!  I screamed, "Oy vey!  Oy eff!" I went tearing through the house, unhinged.  (I tend to overreact.)  I ran down the street in terror.  I warned the neighbors.  I warned all of Sherman Oaks.  Then I came back and rejected the request.  Good thing this situation didn't last longer than four hours, or I would've needed medical attention.
(2-19-11)

Saturday, July 15, 2017

Meditate On This!

Even though this is a dude, it might as well be the SJG, although I'd like to think I wouldn't pick an open road as my happy place to meditate and be mindful and all that chill stuff like that there.
Believe it or not, depending on your belief system, I've always been very big on meditating. Not that I've always been good at meditating. But I have been very big on it, extolling its virtues, so that should count for something. 
I started back in high school. I paid good money I'd earned babysitting and part-timing it at a stationery store run by absolute lunatics to attend the Transcendental Mental Institute of Extreme Mellowness. 
They gave me my mantra, and no, I didn't forget it. Yay, me! I meditated a lot in college, then I got into the real world and was too anxious to meditate, what with all the crap jobs I kept getting, the nutty bosses, the bankrupt newspaper, the bouncing checks, the -- why are you making recount this? 
Then I started doing self-hypnosis, listening to tapes that kept telling me to breathe already. I thought I was breathing. Turns out, I'd been breathing wrong, but only for my entire life. 
Fast forward through my glamorous days as a borderline crazy (yet effective and powerful and oh-so-loving) mama bear, my exciting TV writer days, and my challenging decade as an Existential Loss Expert (list of losses available upon request). Keep fast forwarding to today, to my elegant and bejeweled late-late 50s, where I've achieved some kind of Zen, don't ask me how. On second thought, ask me how. 
I simply live in the moment, except when I forget to live in the moment, and I breathe better, except when I don't, and I become mindful that I'm not living in the moment, or breathing the right way, and then I either go back to living in the moment, or breathing the right way, or, as has been prescribed by my favorite Muppet, I say "eff it" and eat a cookie. 
Yep, that's how I roll, baby. 

Friday, July 14, 2017

Let Me Get Back To You

She resented her walker.

A conversation with a certain recent birthday gal who'd throttle me if I revealed her name, so to protect my delicate anatomy, for our purposes today let's call her Patty:
"I feel so old."
"Why?"
"Because I am."
"You're beautiful."
"I'm old."
"You look amazing."
"I'm older than you."
"You certainly are."
"Don't remind me."
"You brought it up."
"See? I'm forgetting things."
"What did you do on your birthday?"
"I was surrounded by millennials."
She was starting to feel old.

"Oh dear God, Patty. No wonder you feel ancient. The first rule of anti-aging is to never hang out with people born after 1982."
"I had to."
"Why?"
"I was employed. They came with the scenery."
"Let's try to look at it another way."
"What other way is there?"
"How nice to spend your birthday employed. That must've made you feel good."
'It did. Until I realized I was so much older than everyone else."
"I don't think I've ever been employed on my birthday."
"Poor you."
"Patty?"
"What?"
"I've noticed you're not as empathetic as you once were."
"That's because I'm old."
"You left out bitter."
"It's implied."
"Old people are plenty empathetic."
"Give me one example."
"Let me get back to you."
Still, she managed to smile now and then.