Shopping For Furniture

"It's not that pink."

Two guys overhead at the gym:
"She wants me to go pick out furniture with her."
"Dude."
"I'm like, why?"
"Dude, don't do it."
"I told her she should go. It doesn't matter what she picks. As long as it's not pink."
"Dude, it just has to be comfortable."
This is where I start laughing and they both look at me:
"Why is she laughing?"
"Dude, why are you laughing?"
"You guys are hilarious."

A pop of pink never hurt any marriage. 

"Why?"
"I've been married 35 ... almost 36 years. And we've always picked out furniture together."
"Pink furniture?"
"No."
"Do you get into fights?"
"Not about furniture."
"Dude, I was married 10 years. We never picked out furniture together."
"I think maybe that was the problem."
"Dude, talking was the problem. If I ever get married again, I'm not going to talk. I mean I will literally say nothing."
"Well, I wish you both the best of luck when it comes to women."
"Why is she still laughing?"
"Dude, why are you laughing?"

The Look Says It All

Dusty peers into the unknown. 

This dog of mine. This elderly pup. This once-spunky Labrador. This unsteady stepper. He seems to know stuff ahead of time. See the look? The look says it all. The look says, "Don't try to hide it. You're going somewhere." There's no evidence. Not a suitcase in sight. And yet, he senses it. The abandonment. The betrayal. He knows without knowing. He's psychic that way. He tells the future with his eyes. See the look? The look says it all.  The look says, "Where are you going? And when will you be back?" 

Now Hiring: Insecurity Analyst

Position Available
Junior Insecurity Analyst
Location:  Sherman Oaks
Company: SJG International

Job Description:  Research trends in uncertainty. Reinvest personality portfolio. Restore objectivity. Redistribute self-worth. Affinity for neuroses a plus. Long hours. Some travel to inner depths of the soul.  Salary: Meh. Benefits: Iffy.

Hello, It's Me

Dear New York City,
Hi, it's me again. The SJG. Every year right around this time, we have a long talk about the weather, and you completely ignore my requests. I'm still a little resentful, but even so, I thought I'd give it another try before I arrive in your city that never sleeps and never removes scaffolding. Once again, I'd like to remind you that precipitation makes for a soggy, cranky SJG. So, NYC, please, for once, would you just listen to me? I give so much and ask for so little. I don't need a parade down Broadway to welcome me, although it would be nice. I understand that's hard to coordinate. I don't need your permission to get up on stage and dance. I'm doing it with or without your blessing. All I need is five days, rain-free. Five freakin' days. Can you do that for me, NYC? Can you put your own selfish needs aside, just once? What must I do to make this happen? Is some sort of payment involved? Do you take VISA, American Express, the SJG Gold Card? Just tell me, NYC. Must I pay in full or can we do this monthly? What sort of interest are we talking? Come on, NYC. Don't be chintzy with the info. You've got four days to get your sh*t together. I anxiously await your reply.
King Kong Hugs,
The SJG

The Five Stages of Laundry

DENIALDenial is the first of the five stages of laundry. In this stage, laundry becomes meaningless and overwhelming. Laundry makes no sense. You are in a state of shock and denial. You go numb. You wonder how you accumulated so much freakin' laundry. You try to find a way to simply get through each day without washing anything, including yourself. 
ANGERAnger is a necessary stage of laundry. Be willing to feel your laundry anger, even though it may seem endless. The more you truly feel it, the more your hatred of doing the laundry will dissolve. Underneath anger is pain, your pain, from lifting that heavy laundry basket and shlepping it up and down the stairs for what feels like eternity. Anger makes you shout, "Enough already with the eff'n laundry!" The anger becomes a bridge to the open washing machine that you must fill. The anger is something to hold onto as you sort the whites from the multi-colored schmattas that never seem to get clean, what with the stains and the wear and tear of life itself. 
BARGAININGBefore doing a load of laundry, or, who are we kidding, five loads of laundry at least, it seems like you will do anything to spare yourself the loss of your precious time and whatever sanity you have left. You start to make a deal with the Big Girl upstairs. “Please Goddess,” you bargain, “if you make someone else do the laundry, I will never kvetch about it again. Just let someone else do the laundry, Goddess, please. Goddess? Are you listening? Hello, it's me, the SJG. I'm telling you I will devote the rest of my life to doing other people's laundry if just this once, you make someone else do it for me. Stop laughing. I'm serious."
DEPRESSIONClearly, no one is coming to do your laundry. You feel empty inside, disappointed and depressed, and who can blame you? But don't worry. Your laundry depression isn't a sign of mental illness. It's the appropriate response to all that stupid laundry you're facing. Why do the laundry at all? Everything you wash will just get dirty again. What's the point? No wonder you feel depressed by the futility of laundry. Depression is one of the many necessary steps along the way. If that laundry's going to get done, you're going to have to get down and do it, eventually. But not yet. You're not ready. 
ACCEPTANCEAcceptance is often confused with the notion of being “all right” or “OK” with all that laundry that awaits you. This is not the case. Most people don’t ever feel OK doing the laundry. But this stage is about accepting the reality that your laundry needs doing, and it won't kill you to do it. You don't have to enjoy this reality or make it OK. But accept it, already, and stop bitching about it. You must put a positive spin on it. You must learn to reorganize the delicates that need their own setting, and the sturdier items that can stand a stronger cycle. Instead of denying your laundry, you can accept it and roll with the High-Efficiency Tide. You can begin to do laundry again. This is a good thing, people. Rinse and repeat.

Calorically-Speaking

"Please don't go, I'll eat you up, I love you so."

(Sherman Oaks) The SJG, internationally-acclaimed blogging sensation, gathered a motherless minyan of press types to her home on Mother's Day to share some earth-shattering news worthy of the worldwide web. "Today I plan to fress like there's no tomorrow. I've spent the last year losing some unsightly tonnage that accumulated without my written permission. Today I plan to undue all my hard work and attempt to regain much of it. Won't be easy, but I'm up for the challenge. I'll start with the blintz souffle, eat my way over to the cheese strata, consume an entire bagel with a generous schmear of cream cheese -- not reduced fat, regular! -- and let's not forget the over-the-topping of lox imported from Costco. After that, I'll spend a brief moment digesting, and then get busy with the desserts. Rugelach, alligator cake, nothing will be safe in my presence. I'm done being good. Calorically-speaking, I'm going ape-sh*t today. Why? I'll tell you why. Because I've made enough sacrifices as a mother to last a lifetime. It's my day. Mine. I'm sacrificing bupkis. Do you hear me? Bupkis. If I want to gorge with reckless abandon, embarrass my loved ones, risk the expansion of my waistline and wake up Monday morning filled with unbridled regret, all I can say is, 'Stand back and watch me.' "

Important Mother's Day Questions

My Strada?

1. How much do you love My Strada?
2. How much do you love correcting me?
3. How much do you love My Strata?

My Strata!

4. How much do you love my blintz soufflé?

My Blintz Soufflé

5. How much do you love me?

My Baby Photo