My New Boyfriend

All this talk of Harper getting a new boyfriend and Youknowwho running off with a younger man was making Summer a very sad girl, I must say! But last night I did a little drinking and dialing and my very good friend Anita (from school; you won't know her) made the best recommendation anyone has made to me yet, post Harcourt. I should get myself a boy toy. Now if you think that sounds like a tall order, you aren't putting enough emphasis on toy! I ordered myself a great big firefighter! He will be here in a couple of days. I'm assured he will arrive in a plain package that won't set the mailman off and he will keep me happy for as long as I like or until something better comes along. You two aren't nearly practical enough for poor little me with all your talk of being strong; keeping my options open, and giving myself time. I don't need the entire man. Just the necessary bit!

I'm a Bad Girl

Sitting here with a glass of wine in front of me. All alone. No reason to drink. Just want to. I should not admit that, should I? It's just that the stress of not slapping that b*tch of a daughter of mine requires medication of some sort.

One of your stories would do, Pender. I have decided not to believe you about You-know-who. There is no way she is having a fling with some young thing. Why her? Why not me? She has a husband. I don't. I know you said you have proof but you didn't say what it was and as you say you are a bit prickly. You will simply have to provide more than your word and some ill-gotten prescription medications before I will believe this sordid tale. The beauty is in the details. What sort of outfits? What proof?

You really do look like Kate, Harper. It is so nice to have you back in town. I admit I haven't thought about you in years but when I saw you at that party I just knew we would be best friends again. You have not said a word about that new man we met there. What was his name? I cannot remember. The one with the awful wife? I will take your silence on the matter as an affirmation that you were as smitten as he. Shall I cast him? (Why have I never played this game before. I adore it.)



And that's you on his shoulder. (I love this guy. Do you know his name?) Now that would brighten up the weekend wouldn't it? What the hell. Leave in the gag and the bonds. Why not? So what if he looks nothing like your new man it's pleasant to think about, isn't it?

Book Report

If you want drama Pender, try living with a near-teen. Last night I feared the door slamming and sulking could be heard from blocks away. That girl drives me to drink. (Though I have been very strong! Not a sip since the party at Suzy's.) She knows I'm sad about Harcourt leaving and she cannot help rubbing my face in that. But I'm immune to that now. All I wanted was to go to my book club. For the first time in months I've actually read the book. I loved it. I absolutely adored it in fact. It's the first book this club has chosen that I have liked. This is it:


My real motive for reading, though, was that I had to see you-know-who. That naughty femme who is planning her escape from Wilmaville in the most devious way. She does look happy, fit, relaxed. I suppose that's what a dalliance with a younger man will do for you. Are you absolutely certain, Pender, that she is leaving her husband and two teenage kids for a man only a few years older than her son? Really? It seems as if that would take courage and she, honestly, doesn't look the courageous type to me. Oh, I've invited Harper to join this blog. So please stop calling her Harpy. You know she won't like that. And I've stopped calling her Happy.

That boy?

You see that little boy when you look in the mirror? I hate to disappoint you my dear but you haven't seen 21 for a while. Is that the paperboy? I don't even know who that is. You have to give names for those of us who have occasionally gotten out of the house and don't know the name of every boy-toy in town. And wasn't the idea that we were supposed to use famous actors? I know he looks nothing like you but I absolutely adore you, in case you haven't noticed, and I always think of you this way because I also adore him: 

Hi Pender

Don't be so rude. You know you are evil. Only an evil man would take such offense at such a little word. But I wouldn't have you any other way, darling, you know that. Shall we invite Harper to join us here too?

Is this me?

Pender and Harper both agreed that this woman, Polly Walker, should play me. (I had to call Pender to ask her name again so I could post a photo of her.) Does anyone else think she is like me? She is closer to me in hair color but, I don't know. She looks so vicious.

Casting Me as Meg Ryan

We played a game at the party that was fun. The idea is to pick who you think should play you in the movie version of your own life. Then everyone else picks who they think should play you. I thought that Meg Ryan should play me. But no one agreed. I don't know why that bothers me. I don't even know the actress they cast as me but I really do think Meg Ryan should play me.

What a Party!

There is a good reason that I have not posted since Thursday and it isn't that I'm one of those people who start something and never finish it. The reason? That party was terrific for so many reasons. And I've been paying the price. What a headache! And then I had to catch up with clients so I've been busy. But more abut the party.

I so needed to get away from this house and memories of Harcourt and my angry pre-teen daughter. So that's reason one. Reason two is, naturally, the present that Pender had for me. He is such an evil little man. I am not sure if I should say here because anyone can read this but let's just say he has his sneaky ways for getting both his gossip and the little pills that take a party out of the realm of smalltalk and into the world of FUN! He is like a spy in our little community and I will not reveal how he knows this stuff or how he gets his hands on other people's prescriptions. But his gossip was, as usual, of the outstanding, incredibly personal variety. I think I can repeat it here if I don't name any names. It seems that there is a couple here in the neighborhood that is not getting along as well as everyone thinks. In fact, things are so grim at home (depite a naughty collection of outfits, if you know what I mean. Okay what I mean is one of them shops at Frederick's of Hollywood.) that she has other plans. And those plans take the form of a much younger man, a secret bank account, and plans to ditch the entire happy family living in the suburbs facade and relocate--with a lot of HIS money--to New York. That is juicy. I will not be able to look her in the eye at our next book group. I am so naughty that I even listen to Pender's gossip. But I certainly do!

There was another reason that party rocked, though. It seems that my best friend from the fourth grade, Happy, has returned to town. I never thought I would see that happen. She got out! She made good. She had a great job as a writer, a hot husband, and an apartment in Manhattan. Why would she come back here? But apparently that has all fallen apart (or so I assume) and she is back. We hugged like fourth grade was yesterday but I still remember how badly she had to leave this town when she was but a teen so I don't know what to think of her recent return. Should I be happy for her? Or should I wear black out of sympathy for her plight? Whichever it is, she was lots of fun at the party and loved Pender's gossip as much as I did. And I want her for my best friend again because she is so exactly positioned in the direction I want to take my own life. The writer's life. I told both Happy (sorry, I will stop calling her that. She hates it. Harper.) and Pender about this blog. So maybe they are are both reading? Please comment if you remembered the URL! I know we all had so much to drink. But how hard is it to remember? If you can find your way home from New York, you can find my blog. I hope you are reading. Come over for coffee if you are! Both of you!

Oh, Harper, if you are reading. What about that new man in town. The one with the..um..charming wife who was so warm and welcoming to us all. (Not!) Hot? No? (Him. Not her. Her shoes were cute though, despite the rest of the package. I am duty bound to admire a cute pair of shoes.) I am quite certain that he was smitten with you. His face about lit up when he saw you and he didn't take his eyes off you for one second. I know he's married but how happy can he be? If she is horrid in the first five minutes, what can she be like after 10 years of marriage? I shudder to think. Poor man. He needs rescuing.

Oh and speaking of shoes. I'm thinking of ordering these (below.) Tell me what you think! (I am on a terrible online shopping tear but I got three new clients--with a hangover--so I can.) What color? (You have to click on them to see the choices.)

What to Wear?

I'm chearing myself up by shopping online while the kids are at school. I shouldn't but I need to. I started out looking for an outfit to wear tonight but that's just silly. So I'm getting myself a Mother's Day present since I doubt anyone else will get me one. Aren't these cute? And they will encourage me in my new life as a writer.

Tears in My Coffee

Despite all my resolutions, I'm sad today. I woke up in a funk and no amount of coffee seems to be able to shake it. It started yesterday. But today it has grown to the full-on blues.

My friend Pender (not a romantic interest; if you only knew!) called me yesterday afternoon to ask if I was going to the party at Sissy's house tonight. I'd forgotten about it, which I took to be a good sign that my resolutions were going to stick this time. (And I didn't have a single glass of wine last night! I didn't even miss it!) I tried to decline because it's only Thursday and I think I should stay home more on school nights. But Pender was lonely and said he needed to get out of the house. (I can't blame him there. I don't honestly know how he lives there.) He almost begged me to go with him. So I told him about my resolutions. Naturally he was supportive about all that and even said that he always thought I should write. (I am so excited about this! I have let life get in the way of my art for so long!) But he has gossip and I simply cannot resist gossip. He says he has something really nasty about one of my neighbors and would not even say who it was unless I agreed to go to the party with him.

But that's not why I'm blue today, of course. That was all good. That started later. I asked Margot (that's my daughter; 12) if she minded watching her sister for a couple of hours while I went out. She rolled her eyes (as only a pre-teen can) and said, "I thought Harcourt dumped you!" in her most vicious tone. She is such a brat. I know she is angry at me for all the time I spent with Harcourt and the hundreds of times I asked her to babysit so I could be with him but it's hard to be nice to someone who has just said something so cruel. I started crying, like a fool, and went to my room but she never even apologized. The crazy thing is that I'm sad because Harcourt is gone--even though I know he is a jerk--not because Margot is angry with me. I do miss him, despite all the things I siad about being glad he is gone. And I did not need to be reminded by a pre-teen. So, I'm going to the party. Margot can be civil to me if she wants me to stay in with her. I need something to look forward to.

Oh, and Pender said he has a present for me. (!!!) And I know what that means. But I'm not exactly going to say it here in a place where the entire world can read about it! (You sillies! No, I will not tell you!) I'm sure that a night out with Pender will improve my mood.

Summer of Self Discovery

I am starting this blog as a way of reclaiming myself. I've been single--again--now for three weeks. But hey, I'm done being sad. I'm moving on. Someone told me that happiness is a state of mind so I'm giving that whirl. I have decided to be happy being alone even though I had hoped that Harcourt and I would be happy together. That was not to be. Say la Vee. I suppose he just wasn't ready for what we could have been. But I refuse to let his inability to commit bring me down. I have good friends. I have a house I love. I especially love my house now that it is empty of all reminders of Harcourt. Yesterday I made a ritualistic trip to the dump with all the junk Harcourt left behind but could not be bothered to get, presumably because I would make a scene. Some of it was nice stuff, too. I loved that big white dress shirt of his but every time I slept in it, I thought of him so it's gone with the rest.

I also have a couple of great kids who could probably stand a little more attention from their Mom than they have been getting lately. So it's time for Summer (that's me!) to discover herself. Focus on Summer. Focus on being someone new--again. So I'm writing. Ever since college I meant to write something. I feel as if I really do have something to say. I think it is something people might even want to hear. Maybe I even have a novel in me. How hard can that be? I daydream enough for three novels. Are you supposed to post your resolutions on a blog when it isn't even New Years? I resolve to not drink so much, to be a better Mom, and to discover the writer that I have always known is in me.

How cool is this blogging thing anyway? I feel that the moment I click "Publish" I will be a published writer.