An Extended Unhappy Hour

(Sherman Oaks) Starting today, as opposed to yesterday, the famed SJG Bar & Grill launches an extended Unhappy Hour, from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m. Patrons can come in, sit down, kvetch a lot, weep if necessary, drink something and leave. The internationally-renowned blogger's signature cocktails include: The Altacocker Alka Seltzer Fizz, the Shut-Up Bitch, the Don't Give Me That Look, and the Matzoh Matzoh Manic Twist. On Thursdays only, we serve the Hava Nagila Rant and Rum Special. Why only on Thursdays? Why not. But that's not all, folks. On Fridays, Shmuel, a so-so piano player, tickles the ivories and rudely ignores Sir Blakey's slurred song suggestions. Unhappy hour at the SJG Bar & Grill is a lot like therapy, only cheaper and with booze. Expect some good advice, some questionable advice and some advice you should probably ignore.

Things I Keep Relearning

I wouldn't say I'm aged to perfection, more like semi-perfection with plenty room for improvement. I'm still dealing with a sizable relearning curve.

An example you want? An example you'll get. See this guy here, Sir Blakey, aged to somewhere in the vicinity of six years come May, something I need to be reminded of, annually, because it's a made up b'day? Doesn't he look calm, the portrait of serenity, the mellowist of canines? Blakey in repose is indeed supremely chill.

And yet, almost daily, I need to relearn a simple scientific factoid:  A dog in motion stays in motion. Take the other morning, when the eldest, living mere moments away, stopped by. Coffee cup in hand, I went to hug him. Hugging your boychick while holding a steaming cup of java? Maybe not the best move. As I went in for the hug, a certain furry attention junkie jumped up, knocking the mug out of my dainty hand and setting off a series of unfortunate events. The mug sailed across the room, shooting coffee everywhere. Cue the crash landing. The mug, my absolute favorite, the mug my dear friend Kelly gave me, the mug that defines me, broke on impact. I think I heard it scream. Or maybe that was me.

So now another one heads my way, courtesy of what may or may not be an international coffee mug smuggling ring. The transaction may lead to identity theft. Or perhaps my purchase will arrive by next week without incident or FBI intervention. It's worth the risk. I am that mug. That mug is me. Capiche? In the meantime, I've vowed not to hug any offspring while gripping a hot mug of caffeine. I feel strongly about this pledge. But if I forget, please remind me. I'm still relearning things.

Rehearsal Shots

It's true, after hours, hairdressers need to vent and do shots. "Brushes" cast member Clara Rodriguez (Babette in "A Brush With Dignity - The Stylists' Rant") looks on as director Kevin Bailey reveals the coveted bottle of Tequila that features prominently in the scene.

L'chaim! Amy Smallman-Winston (Terry - center) 

Andrew Villarreal (Lenny), Ashley Taylor (Cathy) and 

Heidi Appe (Renée)

Shots! Terry (Amy) enables Lenny (Andrew) and Cathy (Ashley). 

Terry (Amy) offers Renée (Heidi) a refill, while others wait their turn. 

Kevin's dogs Cooper and Mia insert themselves into the scene. 

An Aging Gal & Her Toys

Just what the doctor ordered: Lol Surprise!
Snow Bunny & Moj-Moj Squishies

Hmm... what's going on here, and why is my sweet daddy, the one, the only Mr. Ben Starr, transmitting an aura of approval from the Great Deli in the Sky? What a terrific question on a Monday morning. Shall I answer it, or let you guess? That's a tough one. Guessing might lead you to conclude that the SJG has officially gone off the deep end, she's playing with dolls, she thinks she's four again. You wouldn't be that far off base. Let's just say it wouldn't surprise my dad to find his daughter, always big on Barbie and her mishpocha, getting reacquainted with dollies (#Grandma Goals). It wouldn't surprise him to hear me giggling with delight as my daughter-in-law Chloé of the newly-acquired silvery locks (#Hair Goals), now working for a big toy company, surprised me with a few of these impossible to unwrap toys called, what else, LOL Surprise. It also wouldn't surprise him that I beheaded Snow Bunny three times while assembling her cute pink outfit.

"Hey, watch it, would ya? What do you think 

I'm made of? Plastic?" - S.B.

She looked at me like this, all big eyed and huffy, conveying her displeasure, but once I popped her head back on and her bunny ears, all was forgiven. Of course, I'm far too classy to offer iPhone proof of how much time Chloé and I spent playing with the Poopsie Poopsie Unicorn that poops glittery goo (#Poop Goals), but I laughed hysterically like an unhinged hyena for a good three minutes. How do I know? Longtime hubby timed me.

After just a few days at the palatial estate, I'm sensing that Snow Bunny needs a friend to hang with. Any of these gals will do. (#Nudge-Nudge, #Wink-Wink, #Say-No-More)

SJG Launches New Channel

 Overthinker at work

(Sherman Oaks) Beloved blogger/fashion trailblazer/winner of the recent West Coast Kvetching Decathlon, the one, the only Short Jewish Gal, will launch a new cable TV venture, dedicated to meshuganas around the globe. The SJG Overthink! Channel will feature exciting videos of extreme yentas, kibbitzers, schmegeggies and fardeigeters, engaged in high level acts of completely useless mental exertion, what-iffing, worrying, and general tsouris-making. Activities will involve speed (how fast can you turn nothing into something) and high levels of over-analyzing (how quickly can you transition from logical to fermisht). Competitors will wear fashion-forward, highly specialized gear to deflect blame onto others, and perform spectacular stunts of suffering, contemplation and alienation. Overthink! Coming soon to MustYouBeSoDirect TV.

A Boy And His Bagel

In the middle of rehearsals, the youngest son texts me this photo, taken by his friend Zoe.
I text back: "What are you praying for, honey? A new job?"
"The new Solange album."

Keep It Simple, Sugar

"She wants to know where the office is."

"Hahahaha lol."  

"What should I tell her?"

"Make something up." 

Keep It Simple, Sugar. That's the SJG motto. My brain is too crowded for complicated. It just is. I need simple. I need easy-peasy. I need no-brainer. With that in mind, I drove to my local Westfield for my annual purchase of Westfield Gift Cards. After 40 years of exchanging sweaters, scarves, socks and an assortment of jewelry items, I finally got the gals I've adored since junior high to simplify the gifts. "Who wants to do gift cards, instead?" I asked one day. A collective sigh of relief went round the Ivy table. So, every year, the two January birthday gals get Westfield gift cards and act surprised and delighted, and the two March birthday gals get Westfield gift cards and act surprised and delighted. These little cards make the four of us ridiculously happy, and what's better than that? Not much. 

And yet, yesterday my simple assignment... drive the two blocks, park, get out, get the cards, leave... took a turn toward the Twilight Zone. I went to the usual spot and discovered a ghost office with the strangest of signs: We've Moved To A Place You'll Never Find. There was a phone number to call in the likely event you couldn't find it. Determined to find it, anyway, I walked around the mall, looking for a secret mall office time tunnel. Along the way, an angry Kiosk guy tried to sell me something and I waved him off. "Hey!" he yelled after me. "You know what?" I didn't want to know. I'm was pretty sure, "You're a bitch," was the next sentence. I asked salespeople in Macy's, "Do you know where the mall office is?" "Oh sure," said the Lancome gal, "just exit the store and go past the fountain and make a left and you know where See's is? Go outside and -- " "Yeah, it's not there, anymore." Before I lost it, completely, I went back to the former mall office and called the number on the sign.

"I'm having the best time confusing her."

"Westfield Mall."

"Is this the office?"

"Yes."

"Where are you?"

"It's complicated."

"I figured that out."

"Where are you right now?"

"I'm standing outside the mall office."

"They kicked us out. They're turning it into a restaurant."

"So mean."

"I know."

"Where'd they put you?"

"Across from the parking lot."

"I'm looking. I don't see you."

"Not the mall parking lot. The other mall parking lot."

"What other mall?"

"The strip mall. You know where Ross Dress For Less is?"

"Uh huh. Is that where you are?"

"No. You know where Sports Authority used to be?"

"Yes."

"But there's a Halloween Store there now?"

"Is that where you are?"

"No. We're on the other side."

"Other side of what?"

"The building."

"Wow." 

"Go behind the building. And that's where we are."

"Is there a sign that says Mall Office?"

"No. There's no sign and you won't be able to see through the mirrored windows, but trust me, that's where we are."

"Oy vey."

"When can we expect you?"

"Never-ever."