Linda Lou, live from Las Vegas!

Heading back to Vegas later

2012-01-31T10:40:00.000-08:00

Just a quick post today. Lori and I are flying to Vegas this afternoon and then she'll be continuing on to Albany. I'm hoping I get home in time for my ballet class at 5:30; it's going to be tight. Don't worry, I've been practicing while I've been away.

I'm such an a-hole. We've have a ball here in Boise. Yesterday we dragged Mom to a saloon we found up in the mountains outside of town.

Mom and Lori

She's such a good sport--we tried to get her to shoot some pool with us, but she was happy to sit there with an amaretto on the rocks and watch while grooving to the tunes we played on the juke box. What a great way to send a Monday afternoon; soooooo much better than being at work!

Then last night Lori and I visited a place called called Brewphoria. Thanks to my reader Other Mikey's Julie for the tip--it really is beer heaven!

I gotta say, it took a while to get used to, but I am so digging the lighter hair color. I had it done on January 1 and ordinarily at this point I'd have about an inch of gray roots, but the blond highlights blend so well I'm no longer such a slave to my hair.

What took me so freakin' long to do this? Seriously, if you know someone with fine, thin, crappy hair that's now starting to come in gray, very gently advise them to get a layered cut with layers of color. I haven't complained about my hair in weeks--that's a first! And if you're in the Vegas area, let me hook you up with my gal Lynn Yafchak at Lety's Salon on Tropicana and Topaz (702) 251-5757. She's amazing.

So now I'll have to find something else to complain about... Yeah, that won't be hard. All it would take is someone sitting in front of me on the plane with a flake of dandruff for me to stare at for two hours.

Traveling again!

2012-01-28T15:10:00.000-08:00

This morning I took a quick flight up to Boise to see these folks.

Looking good, eh? (I like to pretend I'm Canadian.) Yup, those are snow covered mountains you see, just past the snow covered hair.

And look who else is up here.

Sister time!!!

As you can see, I am wearing that shirt every day. Because when something's true, you should proclaim it from your chest every. single. day.

I got lots of compliments from women in the airport--everyone wants one. Do you? You can get it here. Warning: They run kind of small. I have a size Large and it fits perfectly and I'm usually a Medium. It is a fun shirt, that's for sure! Last week I bought the domain name imtooprettytowork.com. Can you believe it was available? Now I have to come up with some fun website. Or maybe that could be a book title. I have a lot to do...

Anyway, Debbie of From Venting to Viggo fame and I were laughing last Saturday night about how we're both a friggin' pain in the ass because we're so damn fussy about everything. I thought of her during my flight. The plane was two-thirds empty--Yay, right?--and I like to sit in the back because you have the best chance of having some room to yourself. So I get myself all situated with my Altoids, pen, People magazine and USA Yesterday (they don't publish on the weekend) folded to the crossword--I'm all situated--and what happens but a couple sits right in the row in front of me.

I'm thinking, "The whole back of the plane is empty and you have to sit there?" Not in my row, mind you, but the row in front of me. Nonetheless, I am annoyed beyond belief and now my whole flight is ruined because I have to look at that flake of dandruff on the guy's head just inches away from me and if he reclines his seat during the flight I'm gonna lose it. Which he, of course, does, thus forcing my eyeballs to roll clear back to my cerebellum where no doubt they will someday be stuck for good.

Now, you might ask, if the plane was so empty, why didn't I just move to another seat? BECAUSE I THOUGHT THAT WOULD BE RUDE! So I sat there fuming, just hating this couple for two freakin' hours. Jesus H, can you imagine being married to me??? I'm a mess.

Courtney once made herself an "I'm a mess" T-shirt. Maybe I should have her make me one.

Happy freakin' Friday

2012-01-27T03:00:00.000-08:00

I can't help it. It's true.

Ballet class at 54 -- it's never too late until it's too late

2012-01-26T03:23:00.000-08:00

My ballet class Tuesday night was FANTASTIC!!! I mean PERFECT. If anyone in the Las Vegas Valley is looking for a good dance school for either children or adults, you must check out The Stage Professional Dance and Fitness Studio in Henderson.

Though I stood at a bar last Saturday night, it's been almost 20 years since I stood at a barre so even I was wondering, am I crazy for starting ballet classes again at age 54? Will I remember anything I learned all those years ago? Will I be able to keep up? And most important: Is the instructor certified in CPR?

I found out right away that this wasn't a beginner's class; it was clearly geared toward someone who had prior training, no matter how long ago. But no worries. The terminology--plie, tendu, degage, grand battement, pas de bourree, developpe, jete--came back to me no problem. I imagine Catholics who've been away from the church feel the same way when they hear prayers they learned in childhood; it all comes back to you. Ballet class was kind of like my Catholic school, and my old dance teachers were as forbidding as nuns.

I always loved barre work and did pretty well considering it's been a long time since my legs got that kind of workout. Almost instinctively my body knew what to do. The floor work was more challenging; there's nothing to hold onto. My legs started tiring and it took a little more concentration to remember the sequence of steps. And I'll be honest--sometimes I'd catch myself in the mirror and wanted to laugh out loud at my lack of coordination. Seriously, if you could have seen me, you'd have peed your pants.

But who cares? There were only five women in the class and I want to say four of us were on either side of 50. One woman was really good--clearly she's kept up with it over the years--and the rest of us held our own. But the beauty of being in dance class at this age is there's no sense of competition; there are no show-off girls to secretly hate. We're all there for the pure enjoyment of it and because of that, in many ways ballet at this age is a lot more fun than when I was a teenager.

Our teacher, Tracey Cutler, who also owns the studio, was excellent--upbeat, supportive and patient. She has quite the bio; she was classically trained at the School of American Ballet in NYC and has had leading roles in The Phantom of the Opera, Cats, Camelot, and A Chorus Line. All of the instructors at her studio are pros with equally impressive credentials.

Tracey Cutler in one of her two gorgeous studios

This place is such a find! Adult ballet is offered only once a week, but I'm going to take as many classes as I can. Hot hula, belly dancing, cardio dance... they're all offered on a drop-in basis, so you don't have to worry about signing up for 10 or 12 weeks and then missing classes because of your schedule.

So guess where I was after class Tuesday night?

Tub, candles, Louis CK on Netflix on my iPhone--bliss!

Yesterday I was a bit achy, but it was the good kind of achy that reminds you all day that your body is getting stronger. Now my body is yearning to move and stretch. I stretched all day yesterday in my cube at work and last night I stood at the kitchen counter doing footwork while putting dinner together. I'm probably going to drive Mike nuts, but he says he digs seeing me so pumped.

I am totally pumped; I was so pumped I couldn't get to sleep Tuesday night. I am so glad I did this! I hope that if there's something you want to do, you follow through and make it happen. At least give it a try. And if you're in Vegas and are looking to dance, you know where to go.

Following up on stuff I've talked about before

2012-01-24T03:04:00.000-08:00

Thank you, thank you for all your input on what I should call my "getting from A to B" service. In addition to your comments here, I've had a couple of interesting ones on Facebook. One is "Personal Inspirational Mentoring Partner," or PIMP for short. Hello, I'm Linda and I'll be your life PIMP. The other is the R-rated "growth guide." Schwing!

I do appreciate all your suggestions. My pal Vegas Flea gave me something else to think about:

"The existing term really is 'life coach' but its such an undesirable term that the best thing would be for you to simply start out and let your satisfied clients refer clients to you and not worry too much what your business card has on it."

I might just do that. It's not like I'm looking to market this service or anything; word of mouth is all I had in mind. And he hit the nail on the head about the term "life coach" being undesirable. I'm trying to figure out why--I guess I think of life coaches as being all wholesome and righteous and politically correct. God knows and you know that's not me. I just want to help people get shit done. Maybe that sums it up right there.

"Linda Lou... making shit happen since 2012"

"Linda Lou... laxative for your life!" Okay, now I'm just going in a bad direction. See what I mean? Real life coaches would never say shit.

Anyway, on Saturday night I got to meet Debbie from the fabulous blog From Venting to Viggo. She is adorable and I could have talked her ear off for days. I was prepared for a totally off the wall whack job to rival Julie of 47 and Starting Over (now Fifty and Fabulous) fame, but Debbie is the sweetest person on earth and I'm not just saying that because she said I'm WAY better looking in real life, which happens to be true. Anyway, my dear Julie, your title remains intact. I love you both.

The absolute best thing about blogging is meeting my readers and other bloggers. I can guarantee that both of these ~~nutcases~~ amazing women are destined to be my life-long friends. I feel so lucky.

iPhone photos suck indoors

What else... Mike and I are still on track with our no carbs diet. Seriously, the weight is melting away and we are NOT depriving ourselves; we're just looking at the nutritional menus of every restaurant we can and making the wisest choices. It's almost like a game.

Do you have a Red Robin near you? If you do, check out this awesome menu customizer before you head there. It's amazing how well you can eat for very little carbs. I had the blackened chicken with no bun and substituted broccoli for fries. It was delicious!

Less than 400 calories and only 9 grams of carbs!

Oh, that's ice tea, not beer. But the good news is, Guinness Draught is only 9.9 carbs--the best bang for the buck in the dark beer category. Rest assured I'm not about to switch to Miller Lite.

Don't get me wrong--I do cook at home, but it's eating out that can really pack on the pounds. But if you take a look at the nutritional info beforehand, you'll at least know what you're getting. Baja Fresh, Panda Express, and Red Robin are all excellent restaurants if you're watching carbs. On the other hand, I'm sorry to say my days of Panera Bread are over. And if you want to pack on weight like there's no tomorrow, head on over to your nearest Five Guys.

Yeah, Mike and I are really pleased with the progress we're making; I'm down 7 pounds and he's down 10. It's so much easier if your partner is in it with you, that's for sure. And speaking of "doing it" with your partner, sorry if this is TMI, but consider this: there's 17 pounds that's no longer "between" us, if you know what I mean. Think about it--that's more than three 5-lb. bags of sugar! Believe me, that makes a difference.

Giggity.

Oh, and one more thing... I start my ballet class today! I'm so excited! I have no idea what to expect, but I'm hoping I like it. Too bad there won't be a video--wouldn't you love to see that? HA!

What should I call this service I'll be offering?

2012-01-21T17:26:00.000-08:00

Hey, I need your help. Starting February 1, I'm going to be offering a service that I've been thinking about for a while and feel now is the time. The problem is, I don't know what to call it. Let me share a few details of my vision.

Simply put, I want to take on a few clients and 1) help them identify their talents and/or goals, 2) create a road map to take them from where they are now to where they want to be, and 3) support them along the way. Basically, it's "you tell me where you'd like your life to go and I'll help you get there."

I'm thinking I'll charge $150/month in exchange for 3 hours of my time. A portion of that time will be used for personal contact ("check-in" time) via phone or Skype; the rest would be for work on my part, such as research or resume writing. Most of the work, of course, is up to the client; my role is to help chart a course of action and keep you on track.

A big impediment when it comes to creative or personal goals is that we're not accountable to anyone; there's no one saying, "Hey, did you sign up for that Tai Chi class yet?" And if you're shelling out $150 month you're gonna want to make sure you see results, so you'll be more likely to actually follow through to make it worth it. The ultimate goal is that after a couple of months, you won't need me anymore.

The idea to do this came from a few of my readers who suggested I become a life coach. I didn't give it much serious thought until recently. God knows I love to tell people what to do--you know I would tell the pope how to say Mass--but beyond that, I'm starting to see that I may actually have something of worth to offer people.

For one, I know how to live. I do have my a-hole tendencies, but you can't deny my joie de vivre. I delight in being alive and wish the whole world could, too; I know how to have fun. In my professional life, I worked as a career counselor for many years and have the writing skills to help anyone create a kick-ass resume if they need one. I can ghost write things to make you look brilliant at work or even help you compose an online dating profile or a love letter. On top of that, I've been around the block a few times and have shown that I can pull myself out of the shitter and create a life that's better than I ever could have imagined. I know how to get things done and I have a pretty decent list of accomplishments myself.

So what do I call this service? I really don't like "life coach," although what I have to offer is probably very similar. The thing is, life coaches seem to charge a fortune and I always think of them as being kind of, I don't know... just not me. I recently came across the term "motivational humorist," and that applies to a lot of my writing, but I don't think it quite nails this service I have to offer.

What do you think? What should I call this? Any ideas?

Bellying up to the barre

2012-01-19T03:08:00.000-08:00

It looks like I'm going to do something I've been wanting to do for a long time. One of those things I always think about, but for some reason it just never came together. I'm going to take ballet again.

You know how you have those moments in the cubicle where you think you're going to freakin' explode if you sit there one more minute and you're like, okay, what else can I look up on the Internet? Well, yesterday I did some research on adult ballet classes and come to find out, there's a dance school that offers an adult beginner/intermediate class and it's right near our house. I can take classes on a drop-in basis even, which is good for when I'm traveling. Perfect. No excuse.

So next Tuesday at 5:30 I'll be taking my first ballet class in almost 20 years. I started ballet late in life; I was 12 when I took my first class. I loved it, but I was too late for the party to do anything serious with it. I continued to take classes on and off for many years--I think I was about 36 or so when I started to get away from ballet. And then around when I turned 40, I got into yoga--a natural transition.

I still love yoga, but lately I'm itching to dance. Part of me is like, jeez, I've never taken a ballet class with a 54-year-old body--what's that going to be like? We'll see, won't we? This will certainly be a challenge. I'm psyched.

What have you been toying with in the back of your mind? Do you think you'll really do it? What's holding you back?

Now, this is much better

2012-01-18T03:28:00.000-08:00

Somebody landed on my blog by doing a Google image search for "53-year-old cougar" and clicked on this picture:

The thing is, it's the same photo as the "middle age spread" shot I posted on Saturday--just cropped. The moral of the story is, now I know I look best from the boobs up.

I love people who make me look normal and just for the record, I'm not yet 55

2012-01-17T04:03:00.000-08:00

I'm so excited! I'm finally going to meet that whack job Debbie of From Venting to Viggo fame when she comes to Las Vegas this weekend. That chick is OUT THERE! I could be wrong, but I have a feeling she's going to make Julie from 47 and Starting Over look totally normal.

Anyway, in anticipation of our meeting up, Debbie sent me her cell number, which I immediately programmed into my phone. I knew she'd be writing a post about the Golden Globes and so as I was watching them Sunday night, I decided to text her some commentary like, "Angelina, easy on the lipstick!" and "Nicole Kidman: GODDESS!" and "Best gown so far: Jessica Alba."

I don't hear back from her, so I'm thinking maybe she doesn't recognize my number, so I text, "It's Linda!" Still nothing. Then finally I get this text:

"Hi, Linda. Well, thank you for sharing your night with me. Just one thing--I don't know who you are, though you sound like you're having a fabulous evening. Feel free to let me see through your eyes tonight's events. Take care, Gary."

Gary???

Evidently I entered Debbie's number in my contact list with my area code, not hers. So now I have this new friend Gary...

And I have the nerve to call Debbie the whack job. I must apologize when I meet her.

Changing topics... Last Tuesday after eating my low carb lunch at Baja Fresh, I decided to roam around the Ross Dress-for-Less in the same plaza. I picked up a pair of those Sketcher Tone Up sneakers because, you know, I'm on this weight loss kick (140.8 this morning, who the eff cares) and so I'm at the register and the cashier, who's probably 10 years older than me, says,

"Are you in the Tuesday club?"

Now, because I'm a Ross frequent flyer, I know what the Tuesday club is--they give a discount on Tuesdays to people 55 and older.

I was like, "Seriously, you fucking bitch? I'm not even 54 and a half yet."

Okay, I didn't really say that. I just shook my head, took my receipt and said, "See you next Tuesday."

(wink!)

It's that time of year again

2012-01-16T19:38:00.001-08:00

A perennial favorite...

Now I'm handing out diet tips...

2012-01-15T22:18:00.000-08:00

You're going to think I'm talking out of both sides of my mouth. On the one hand, I'm always yakking about the media's crazy obsession with weight and size 0 is NOT attractive and when you're laughing your ass off, no one cares how big it is... blah, blah, blah. And I really mean it.

I recently posted a link to this article on Facebook. Interesting to hear a size 12 plus-size model talk about the industry. Did you know that ten years ago plus-size models averaged between size 12 and 18 and today they range from size 6 to 14. Huh? Size 6 is a plus size now? I'd love to be a size 6!

Don't get me wrong. I'm not obsessed with my weight. I'm heavier than I've ever been and even weigh more than the day I gave birth (both times), but I'm a healthy size 8, and Jesus Christ for 54 years old, even I can tell that I look pretty goddamn good.

December was a big eating month, though, and I packed on some pounds I really want to get rid of. I don't like how my clothes are fitting and I'll be goddamned if I'm gonna buy a bigger size. Mike's bigger than he's ever been, too, and although there's certainly something to said for being fat and happy, we'd both rather be just as happy but not so fat.

I told Mike that I know first-hand that the quickest way to lose weight is to cut out the carbs. Before I met B.H. (for new readers, that's my ex-husband) (okay, one of my exes) (the star of my book) he had lost a shitload of weight on Atkins and was still doing the low carbs thing. When we were together, I joined in and was in the best shape of my life. Then when we split, I got away from that way of eating.

Anyway, Mike and I decided we'd give the low carb thing a try. We're not cutting carbs altogether--that's just crazy--but we're definitely choosing our food more carefully. And it's working! Here are the results from the first week, captured on a little whiteboard in our bathroom:

Seriously, something had to be done. I NEVER thought I'd see the day where I weighed 145.8.

The good news is, we're finding this REALLY easy to do. And the even better news is, because you see results immediately, it's easier to pass up the typical temptations (bread, pasta, ice cream, junk food, cookies, candy, Starbucks lattes and banana walnut bread, etc.) because nothing tastes as good as skinny feels. And the best news of all is, you can still have fast food.

I hate to admit it, but I do eat lunch out every day. I know I should bring a lunch, but the break room at work is too depressing and I'm not about to eat at my desk in my cube, so I usually run over to the food court at Red Rock casino or eat at Baja Fresh down the street. Well, once Mike and I started counting carbs, I started checking out the menus of some of the places I eat, and it was a real eye opener.

Here are the links to nutrition information for my two favorite fast food restaurants, Panda Express and Baja Fresh. You can see that by switching from Beijing Chicken to Broccoli Chicken, I'm saving 44 grams of carbs. Forget the chow mein and rice--at 65-86 carbs, the price is too high for something that doesn't even taste that good. Burritos at Baja Fresh, which are all over 80 carbs and about 900 calories, are a thing of the past. I now have two shrimp tacos, which combined are about a quarter of the damage.

This seems so simple. Don't deny yourself your favorite restaurants; just make sure you know what you're ordering. Get online and look at their menus. I swear, simply being more conscious about what you're eating will make a huge difference.

Twenty minutes after I posted this...

Oh, freakin' super. I just saw that if you do a Google image search for "women middle age spread," this shows up on page 6.

You gotta be able to laugh at yourself, right? OH, BUT THAT PISSES ME OFF!!!

Five minutes after I posted that...

OMFG, if you do a Google image search for "handsome 50 year old man," this shows up on page 1.

THAT IS SO NOT FAIR! These pictures were taken on the same goddamn trip!

Sometimes things aren't as they seem

2012-01-12T03:47:00.000-08:00

For those of you who think my life is so fantastic... living in a love palace with a super hot husband, traveling all the time, doing comedy and having interesting comic and writer friends, enjoying good weather, living in Las Vegas of all places, blah, blah, blah... Well, let me tell you, all is not perfect.

Yes, the big things are certainly in place and I shouldn't have a complaint on earth, but the truth is, I hate my fucking job. There, I said it. I have hated it since day one. Yep, I've tried to make the best of it, but I knew I was in the wrong place right off the bat. I can't go into specifics; all I'll say is I'm used to a more structured and formal training environment.

Things have changed, in some ways for the better. The company is actually pretty decent, from what I can tell (I'm a contractor). It's recognized that the training needs to be tightened up. They need documentation. They need someone who can design curriculum and write kick-ass training manuals and user guides that even a monkey can follow.

Unfortunately, that someone is me. I've been moved into another department, which is good, but now I'm writing all day, which is bad. Instead of being out on the road doing training (which I like and was hired to do), I'm driving 26 miles to work every day so I can sit in a cubicle, hardly speak a word to anyone all day, and write. I am doing exactly what I never wanted to do again. Unless I was starving, I wouldn't have even applied for the job I'm doing now.

I've already quit. Last week. But my boss's boss is a great guy and I'm staying to finish documenting one module because I want to help him out. That should take 1-2 months, though God knows there's a ton of documentation that needs to be done. And the woman (!) I report to now is very appreciative. But that doesn't make the day go by any faster. Working at home occasionally is a possibility, but they just hired another writer who at least initially will be working under my direction. So I'll have to be in the office.

Weh, right? I should feel lucky to have a job in this economy, right? No, fuck that. I have a good education and 20 years of experience in training and writing and I'm really good at what I do. I'm lucky in a lot of ways, but I should have a decent job. That's not luck.

Sorry to be all bitchy, but isn't it just a tiny bit refreshing to get a break from my usual "I love my life" posts? Seriously, that has to be annoying.

200 channels, nothing to watch

2012-01-10T06:52:00.000-08:00

What are you watching on TV these days?

I was under the weather all weekend and even took yesterday off from work. Nothing major--just a bad cold that put me on the couch for a few days. Ordinarily there would be a silver lining to that; a good excuse to curl up on the couch with a furry throw and see what I've been missing on TV lately.

Apparently nothing.

Last summer was a goldmine for me, with new seasons of Rescue Me, Louie, and Curb Your Enthusiasm. But after Curb ended (and God knows when it will be back), I didn't see anything worth watching on HBO and cancelled it. And with Rescue Me finished for good and Louie gone till next season, I'm left with only with Modern Family (thank you, God) and Family Guy, which quite honestly is not having its best run this year.

Mike and I recently started watching Breaking Bad on Netflix; we've been through about four episodes. I appreciate that it's well done--Bryan Cranston is fantastic--but man, it's way too graphic and violent for my taste. I have Sons of Anarchy and Mad Men on my instant queue, but I'm not dying to fire them up.

What am I missing? What are you watching that the world should know about?

No, I did not get shot in the eye, but thanks for your concern

2012-01-07T09:23:00.000-08:00

Thank you all for your concern. I know that when you read this article, "Woman Shot in Eye Finishes Beer Before Accepting Medical Treatment," you immediately thought, OMG! Linda got shot in the eye? Well, you'll be happy to know I'm not the woman in question and if the photo accompanying the article is representative of the beer she was drinking, she is, in fact, crazy. I mean, seriously... Budweiser?

Thank you, Debbie of From Venting to Viggo fame, for bringing that to my attention. Debbie also left this comment on Thursday's post about Jennifer Aniston's hair extensions:

I feel so betrayed!!! I thought Jennifer's hair was all her own!!!

I know there are more important issues in the world than whether or not Jen is pulling one over on us, but this really does have implications surrounding the standards that average, garden variety women hold themselves to. I mean, come on! Jennifer Aniston is known for her gorgeous hair, and now we find out it's not even all hers? Who saw that coming?

This is just further proof that it's a safe bet that the actresses and models we see in celebrity magazines barely resemble their natural "baseline," if you will. Remember this video, put out by Dove's Campaign for Real Beauty? It's a reminder that even supermodels don't look like supermodels.

The picture I posted on Thursday of me in my robe with no makeup? That's my baseline, people, and I'm fifty-freakin'-four years old. And I bet you have pictures of your baseline self looking just as good, no--better.

I'm not saying we shouldn't do what we can--and want to do--to keep up our looks. Who doesn't want to look good? I wear makeup, color my hair, bleach my teeth... we just have to keep in mind what exactly the media is feeding us. I've ranted before about how everyone in Hollywood is supposed to be a size 0--that's crazy stuff--and that I've never met a man who'd prefer a bag of bones over a woman with curves.

The bottom line is, love who you are. Everyone else does.

Getting back to what men like, I have a hunch that it's women who find Jennifer Aniston so attractive, not men. Just for fun, guys, what do you think? Is Jen your type of gal?

New year, new hair for me... and Jennifer Aniston, how could you?

2012-01-05T03:23:00.000-08:00

Hey, check out this article where Jennifer Aniston admits that hair extensions ruined her hair. Um...

WHY THE EFF WOULD JENNIFER ANISTON NEED HAIR EXTENSIONS???

Calm down, Linda...

If you've read my book or have been reading my blog for any length of time, you know that my hair is not exactly my best feature. I can remember checking myself out in the mirror when I was like 8 years old and thinking, Man, I got some shitty hair going on here. I swear, I'd take two inches off my chest and paste them on my thighs to be able to buy a shampoo or other hair product that wasn't plastered with the words "fine," "thin," or "limp." God knows what I'd do for Jen's hair.

I'm getting to be more at peace with my hair, though. I realize "I am not my hair" and that people who love me truly do not give a shit how craptastic my hair looks on any given day. In fact, they don't even notice. That is, not until I point it out to them.

For years and years I wore my hair quite short, figuring the less crappiness the better. Even if I tried to grow it out, it would reach a point where it would look shitty to the tenth power and I'd go to the salon and tell my guy to cut it off. In the past year or so, though, I've been letting it grow and it's longer than it's been in ages. When people say, "Gee, Lin, your hair is getting long," just for yuks I like to tell them I'm growing it out for Locks of Love. Recently I fed that line to my brother and he quipped back, "Isn't that like getting a liver from W.C. Fields?"

Everyone in my family is a comedian.

The other day I came across this article that had some tips for fine hair. One of the tips is to layer your hair, which is what I did when I got my hair cut back in November. Another tip is to add layers of color to your hair. Hmmmm....

Time to hit up my comic friend Lynn Yafchak. She isn't just an experienced stylist, she's a freakin' magician. Lynn was working on New Year's Day (because she's a nut and she loves what she does) and this time we played around with color. My hair is now not only longer than it's been in years, but it's lighter than it's ever been, too. As a life-long brunette, this took some getting used to, but the layered cut and the layers of color definitely make it look and feel thicker.

Me without makeup... scary!

Notice that my hair matches my robe, which matches my pajamas... QUEER! (I wrote this at 11:00 last night.)

Seriously, if you're in Las Vegas and need some magic done to your head, give Lynn a call at Lety's Salon on Tropicana and Topaz (702) 251-5757. You will love her!

And now I shall leave you with this picture of Jen. Note the layers of color. Hmmm... hair extensions, layers of color...

Draw your own conclusions...

The New Year is off to a great start!

2012-01-03T03:59:00.000-08:00

New Year's Eve was so much FUN! Mike and I were the guests of some friends who "play," as we say in Vegas, at the Hilton. They invited us to the party the Hilton puts on for their VIPs and they were even able to get us a room. Sweeeeeeeet!

I told you about these friends before. Several months ago I struck up a conversation with a nice man named Al in my neighborhood Starbucks. The next time I saw him, I gave him four passes to see my comedy set at Alexis Park. Well, ever since then Al and his wife, Pat, and Pat's cousin Richard and his wife, Jeanette, have come to be our new best friends. They're all between 69 and 80 and they're a freakin' blast. Seriously, they're younger than most people half their ages.

Anyway, the Hilton put on an amazing party. There were probably a couple of thousand people in the ballroom, which was decorated beautifully. A sit down dinner, dessert, open bar... who could ask for anything more? We sat near the main dance floor surrounding the band in the middle of the ballroom; there were two smaller dance floors at either end of the room. The music was perfect for the event, appealing to everyone, and we all danced our asses off.

Midnight was magical. As the band played "Auld Lang Syne," my heart brimmed with feelings of love for my new husband, the joy of sharing fun times with new friends, gratitude for their generosity, and hope that the year ahead will be filled with peace and good health.

Afterward we went up to our friends' friends' suite on the 29th floor with a balcony that overlooked the Strip. I stood there and had yet another "pinch me" moment (they happen quite frequently). My life is blessed, to be sure, but the reality is we wouldn't have been there had I not smiled at a stranger in a coffee shop.

Every encounter you have with another human being is an opportunity to create some magic. Why not reach out to someone today? Try to catch a stranger’s eye and then smile as if you’re having the best day ever. I guarantee the person will smile back. There’s your initial connection.

Sometimes the person will take the next step and start some small talk; if not, you can take the lead. Instead of asking, “How are you today?” say something they wouldn’t expect like, “Are you having a great day?” They’ll be taken aback by your enthusiasm and are sure to respond positively. And if not, well… maybe they’re simply not the type of connection you want to make. Or maybe a positive person like you is exactly what they need.

One thing I'm going to do this year--a resolution, if you will--is to write in my calendar book the names of every person I meet. Each encounter is a gift, if we're willing to accept it. I'm sure glad I accepted the gift the universe sent me when I met Al in Starbucks!

Happy New Year!

2011-12-31T14:25:00.000-08:00

Remember this photo of Hazel from New Year's 2010? I am soooo hoping Courtney takes another one of her this year.

Usually I don't go out on New Year's Eve. Except New Year's Eve 2008 when I partied with my girl Lisa Gioia Acres and an ex-Playboy Miss July and an ex-porn star at Santa Fe Station. This year is certain to be a little more mild, but you never know. It's mine and Mike's first New Year's Eve together (every other year I've been back in Albany for the holidays) and we do have some swingin' plans. No matter how the evening turns out, I'm thrilled to have him to kiss when the clock strikes twelve.

Believe me, I've had many years with no one to kiss at midnight. Wait, that's not quite true; I've kissed friends and family, but you know what I mean. I think everyone, whether they want to admit it or not, longs for that celebratory romantic kiss to ring in the New Year. Back in September I wrote this post, Why wouldn't you put as much effort into finding love as you would to find a job? If finding love is something you'd like in 2012, I hope you'll put the effort into making it happen. And that goes for no matter what you want for yourself this next year.

I wish every one of you a safe and fun night tonight. Thank you for reading my crap for almost three and a half years now. And here's to a glorious 2012!

XOXO

Repost for Self-Improvement Week: Guidelines for planning a fabulous 2012

2011-12-29T06:28:00.000-08:00

As you know, 2011 was a hell of a year for me and I'm gonna try like hell to make 2012 even better. Oh, the possibilities! I’m convinced that the best way to make those possibilities a reality is to create a written plan of action. The process of writing forces you to articulate how you’d like to see the next year unfold. The clearer you are about what you want, the easier it is to make it happen. Writing things down increases the chances of actually manifesting them.

Planning the year ahead is going to take some time (a couple of hours) and a lot of thought, but don’t resist. If this were a project someone gave you at work, you’d do it, right? Well, this is one project you should actually care about!

Here is a goal-setting structure that I’ve used for several years. Like everyone else, over time I tend to drift away from my plan, but it’s better than nothing.

Health and fitness. Forget about what you’d like to weigh—that’s not the focus here. Think more about your overall health. Your body is the vehicle that gets you around on this earth—do you really want it to go to shit?

Write down some concrete steps you can take to improve your health, and I mean stuff you’ll actually do. If you’re like me and can’t bear the thought of going to a gym, for God’s sake, don’t put that down. Be realistic, and be specific. If you like to walk, can you commit to walking a half hour three times a week? Good. Make that part of your fitness plan.

In your calendar, pencil in reminders in the appropriate months for your physical and blood work, Pap, mammogram, eye, and dental appointments. Make and keep those appointments. What could be more important than your health?

My recommendations:

Find a fitness buddy—you’ll be much more likely to walk, run, work out, or whatever you want to do.

Buy yourself a pedometer, and I mean a good one, not a piece of crap. The more you spend on it, the more likely you’ll be to use it. I got this one from Brookstone for Mike for Christmas a couple of years ago.

If you’re looking for an exercise video that kicks ass, get the Original Buns of Steel DVD. Don’t buy this through Amazon; it’s a lot cheaper if you go through instructor Greg Smithey’s website. Tell him Linda Lou sent you, but don’t say I give him the finger on the TV during the hard parts.

Work and professional. How do you feel about your professional life? Does your work bring you joy? If not, do you at least have entertaining co-workers to help you get through the day? If work is a source of stress or you can’t frame your current job in a positive way, it’s time to move on. Work takes up a big chunk of your life, and life is too short to be miserable.

If you haven't already, now is a good time to identify your God-given talents. What do you excel at? What do you do better than 90 percent of everyone walking on earth? Does your work allow you to let those talents shine?

Maybe work is going fine. What can you do to make it better? What would you need to do to get a promotion?

Make a list of the concrete steps you can take to advance yourself professionally. Identify the skills that would make you more marketable and commit to obtaining those skills. Take a continuing education class through your local community college. Look into the online courses offered through www.lynda.com. Update your resume. Join a professional association and network with people who are doing what you’d like to do. Do whatever you need to ensure your source of income brings you joy!

Activities and personal growth. Okay, maybe your dream job isn’t making the best use of your God-given talents, but the pay is decent and it doesn’t drain every last bit of your energy. That’s cool. But you still want to make the most of your time off the clock, right? And maybe find a way to share those talents with the world?

You wouldn’t believe how many people tell me they should write a book. Or do stand-up comedy. I usually respond with a matter-of-fact, “So do it,” which is invariably met with the deer in the headlights look. Yeah, yeah, yeah—it’s a lot easier to be a blowhard saying, “I could do this” and “I could do that” than actually taking the steps to make it happen.

But why not take the freakin’ steps and do it? Don’t know where to start? Do some research! Could the Internet make it any easier to learn about anything? You have to start somewhere, and when you walk in the mist, you get wet. Start walking in the mist!

Personal and creative projects always go on the back burner. That’s because nothing will go wrong if they’re not done and there’s generally no sense of accountability. No one’s asking, “Hey, are you done with that painting yet? When can we hear that song you’ve been working on? What have you been doing lately to overcome that fear of public speaking?”

It’s up to you. Make a list of personal goals you’d like to achieve and list the concrete steps you can take to help you achieve them.

Travel. Make a list of the day trips, long weekends, and vacations you’d like to take in 2011. Again, be realistic; if a trip around the world isn’t feasible right now, don’t put it down. Pencil these trips in on your calendar. Consider the gift of travel for a special birthday or other occasion. Taking a trip with a loved one creates memories that last far longer than any present or gift card.

Relationships/social. The folks you hang with have a tremendous impact on your character and how you live. Now is a good time to take inventory of the people in your life. Write down the names of those who lift your spirits, motivate or inspire you, crack you up, or make you feel better about yourself. We all have friends who support you to no end--they're almost like fans. How can you spend more time with them? Would any of them make a great fitness buddy? Make a plan to work on your health and fitness goal together.

On the other hand, you and I both know some "friends" can sap every friggin' ounce of your strength. Maybe they're perpetually negative, whiny, or can't get past their own personal "woe is me." If someone insists on using you as a sounding board for their neverending bitch-fests, do yourself a favor and ease away. Your time is valuable and is better spent elsewhere.

Maybe you'd like to expand your social circle. Go to MeetUp.com and browse through the groups in your area that match your interests. Commit to attending one of their meetings--that's a sure way to meet people with interests similar to yours. (BTW, I met Mike through the Henderson Writers Group.)

Is there a person at work you’ve been wanting to get to know better? Or maybe someone you don't really know, but have admired from afar? Ask him or her out to lunch or for a cup of coffee.

I think the very best way to meet new people is to go someplace by yourself. See a band, browse through Barnes and Noble, bring your laptop to Starbucks or Panera Bread... strike up a conversation with someone and you never know what will happen!

If you're lucky enough to have a partner in a love relationship, think of how you can strengthen your bond. What can you do to surprise and delight him or her? The element of surprise adds spice! Plan for a long romantic weekend--and don't forget to put it on your calendar.

Spiritual. What can you do for your soul in 2012? While you're making new friends in Barnes and Noble, look for books that might inspire you and feed your spirit. (What? You haven't read Bastard Husband yet? What the hell are you waiting for?)

Maybe this is the year you check out a church you've been curious about. Or why not work on mind and body together and sign up for a yoga class?

Nothing feeds the spirit more than being of service to others. Maybe this is the year you commit to doing volunteer work. Don't save the "surprise and delight" strategy for your romantic partner--think of simple things you can do to surprise and delight a special friend, elderly relative, or the stranger sitting across from you in the coffee shop.

Purchases and possessions. Make a list of the purchases you need to make in the next year. Mark your calendar for when you intend to buy them. You should already have some plans on your calendar by now; are these purchases still feasible? How important are they?

I live by one rule when it comes to buying stuff: I buy only the things I truly need or that bring me joy. That is so important! Whenever you're ready to buy something, ask yourself, "Do I really need this?" and "Does it bring me joy?" A yes answer to either question is a green light. A no answer is a signal to walk away.

Think about what can you buy that will raise your standards. It's important to raise your standards; when you do this, your overall energy is raised, including the way you think about yourself. This affects how you present yourself to the world, which affects how the world treats you. I'm off on a tangent now; this is a topic for another post. But I will tell you my life has rocked out ever since I bought my new Scion and my iPhone. That thing has changed my life! So if you watch TV every day and TV is an important part of your life, buy yourself a good TV. You may not need it, but it will bring you joy!

Financial. Set some realistic financial goals and write down the steps you'll need to take to achieve them. Are you willing to work toward a promotion or take a part-time job? Watch every cent you spend; write down where your money goes, even if for just one week.

Look for places you can cut back. Are you paying for things that don't bring you joy? Are you paying a cell phone or car insurance bill for a kid out of college? It's time for that little angel to freakin' grow up! Ask for their contribution or tell them they're on their own. Can you cut back or get rid of cable and subscribe to Netflix instead? Can you share an account with someone?

Remember Purgefest 2010 when I got rid of three quarters of the shit I owned? I've never missed it! You'll be surprised at what you're hanging on to for no good reason. Getting rid of crap is liberating--mark your calendar for when you'll go through each room and closet. Sell everything you don't need or that doesn't bring you joy on eBay or Craigslist. If you can't sell it, give it to Goodwill or post it for free on Craigslist. By doing this, you'll either make a few bucks or lift your spirit by helping someone in need. If you're not using it and if it doesn't bring you joy, recycle it to the universe.

I have a lot more to say; this topic is way too big to address properly in a single post. At any rate, I hope this gets you started. Now get planning!

Ahhh... Christmas is over

2011-12-27T19:12:00.000-08:00

Holy crap, I am late as hell posting this. It isn't the first time I got messed up with the Monday holiday. Though strangely, I posted yesterday. Super. I can't figure myself out.

Well, we survived another Christmas. Long-time readers know that isn't one of my favorite holidays. But it's over now and that's the important thing. This one was different; because my family was here for Thanksgiving (and the surprise wedding), I decided not to go to Albany for Christmas. There's been only one other year that I didn't go back east for Christmas--when B.H. and I spent the holidays in New Zealand. Someday I gotta tell you my impression of N.Z.

Anyway, I was happy to spend Christmas with Mike and the kids. We decorated my awesome palm tree and totally used it as our Christmas tree and the kids didn't care a bit. As long as there are presents under something.

Before the ornaments

In February, I'm gonna put hearts and crap on it and in March... shamrocks. You know it.

The 7-year-old got a new bike--her first bike--and guess who forgot how freakin' exhausting it is to run next to a kid learning to ride a two-wheeler with no training wheels? I totally counted it as exercise--duh--even though I had to stop about every 30 yards because I thought I was having a stroke/heart attack combo. I am so out of shape. Yeah, that's at the top of my New Year's get-my-shit-together list, which is now about a mile long.

Hey, speaking of... I saw on Facebook that one of my dear readers, inspired by my Purgefest 2010, is having her own Purgefest 2011. Awesome! I'm so proud! It feels so good to get rid of crap. I'm down to the bare bones myself--which feels fantastic--but my husband is a different story. He's making progress, though; we can almost fit my car (which is roughly the size of a coffee table) in the (three-car) garage. Just saw this on Facebook a couple of minutes ago. How a propos.

What else... Oh, I am now the GRANDMOTHER OF A FREAKIN' TEENAGER! Yep, yesterday was my man Connor's 13th birthday. Holy freakin' shit!

I mean, holy freakin' epic! (BTW, I'm wearing 3" heels.)

Finally, let me share my mother's latest Facebook post.

Hahaha! Hope you're enjoying your week!

Self Improvement Week re-post: How to survive your day job until you can quit your day job

2011-12-26T07:40:00.000-08:00

It's the last week of the year--what better time to focus on self-improvement as we set goals and make plans for the New Year? Here's a re-post from last May, updated a bit, for those of you (or I should say, "us") who may need to reconsider how we're spending those 40 hours every week.

Some of you may know that I worked for several years in the field of corporate outplacement where I taught job search skills to people who’d been “downsized” or “identified as redundant” or whatever the euphemism of the day was at the time. If you’re one of the lucky ones who loves your job, hallelujah! to you. But if you know anyone who’s struggling, pass this on. Hope it helps!

I’ve always envied those folks who knew from day one exactly what they wanted to be when they grew up. Usually their intended profession was something like a teacher or a fireman or a nurse, and that’s exactly what they studied in college and that’s exactly what they became when they grew up and they loved their job and they lived happily ever after, amen. I don’t actually know anyone like that, but I hear they’re out there.

For most of us, works means spending a big chunk of our lives in a place we’d rather not be. Maybe you’re “really” an artist or musician and need a day job to pay the bills until you can start making a living from your art. Maybe you’re in the profession you actually went to college for, but it’s not what you expected and you’re barking up the wrong tree. Or maybe you’ve been in a career for several years and have come to the realization that the bloom is off the rose and it’s time to move on.

Or maybe you still don’t know what you want to be when you grow up. Don’t feel bad; you’re not alone. The comedian Paula Poundstone has a great line; she says the reason we’re always asking kids what they want to be when they grow up is that we’re looking for ideas.

If that’s the case and you still have no friggin’ clue, it’s time to become more aware of what your God-given talents are. What do people compliment you on? What do you like to do? What do you do better than 99 percent of everyone else? How can you share that talent with the rest of the world? How can you make money by sharing that talent?

Ultimately, it would be wonderful to be able to making a living by sharing your God-given talents, instead of your apparent talent for tolerating menial work or a difficult supervisor. But the reality is, you’re not a Kardashian and so you need to work so you can have some kind of quality of life beyond 9 – 5.

I can’t stress this point enough: Your mission is to get through those 8 hours in the most painless way possible while you continue to identify and develop your God-given talents and strategize exactly how you’ll be able to capitalize on them.

To do that, it’s important that your job doesn’t sap every bit of your time and energy so that you’re too tired at the end of the day to pursue your real-life goals. If you’re completely wasted after work without an iota of energy, it’s time to put out the feelers for another opportunity. On the other hand, if you spend every night channel surfing on the couch or wasting time on the Internet, you gotta put an end to that right now. If you don’t, you’re not serious about making a move. End of story.

I was lucky as hell with my telecommuting situation this past year. Now, do I think God put me on this earth to edit technical documentation? Hardly. But with that job I could work from home, I had a competent and fair boss and hilarious coworkers I truly adored, and it didn’t wipe me out. I still had plenty of energy for creative pursuits like my writing and stand-up. Would I rather be making good money from speaking engagements and book royalties? Of course. But that was a great gig.

Okay, what if you really don’t like your job? How do you get through those 8 hours as painlessly as possible? (This is the part I'm telling myself as much as you.)

First, remember that no experience is ever wasted; everything fits together in the big picture of life. Identify tasks you do in your current position that somehow make use of your talents and the skills that are somehow related to your ultimate goal. In my case, my skill as a technical writer/editor helps make my creative writing tighter and crisper. In comedy, you have to get to the punch line in as few words as possible—in tech writing, you have to express the content as economically as possible, too. See the connection?

Second, look for conditions of your job that you consider to be favorable. Maybe you have a short commute, a pleasant work environment, the ability to work autonomously, a fair and competent boss, awesome coworkers, the opportunity to play with the latest technology… the value you assign to your job all depends on what’s important to you. Focus on the positive and appreciate the good. It could be a lot worse—ever get a pedicure? Now, there's a job I wouldn't want.

Finally, be thankful for what you have. Never say you hate your job. The fact is, you can’t live without it or you would; you need the money and most likely would be effed without the paycheck, right? So don’t complain about where you are right now; that’s not a smart way to spend your energy. Spend your energy lining things up so you can make a move.

You’ll find your job will be more tolerable when you identify what it actually means to you. You’ll no longer feel like you’re compromising your values; you’ll find that you resist it less. You’ll realize that you stay in it not out of a sense of resignation, but as strategy; it’s a stepping stone to your next level of personal or professional development.

Does that make sense?

Happy Holidays, everyone!

2011-12-24T17:18:00.000-08:00

Connor's first Christmas

Wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah, too!

Enjoy!

I've said it before, I'll say it again: "Love every minute"

2011-12-22T00:49:00.000-08:00

Last Sunday on my way to the Orlando airport I got a voicemail from my college roommate and dear friend Patty. "I have sad news," she said. As I called her back, I knew it wasn't good. Our friend Mary Ellen, one of the girls in our circle at Plattsburgh State, had passed away that morning.

Many of my friends from the crazy Plattsburgh years are from around Albany, where I grew up. Patty, Mary Ellen, Margaret, and Chris went to an all-girls Catholic high school together in Schenectady, just outside of Albany. We all returned to the area after getting our degrees, so it's been easy for everyone to keep in touch and we try to get together whenever I'm back in town. I think the last time I saw Mary Ellen was in April at a happy hour party. Yep, the Plattsburgh crew certainly knows how to party--that's one thing we never grew out of.

A bunch of us got together up in the Adirondacks in September 2010 while I was back east; I blogged about it here. The September gathering is an annual event; I didn't make it this past year, but Patty told me Mary Ellen was there and had mentioned that she was having back pain. Well, a lot of people have back pain, right? But I guess on December 8 Mary Ellen was diagnosed with cancer and on the morning of the 18th she was gone. She was 53 and had two kids, one of whom is a student at Plattsburgh.

The wake and funeral service are tonight and how I wish I could be there with my friends. That's the only thing that sucks about being on the other side of the country, so far away from so many people I love.

This is really hitting me. It's weird. Mike and I often lament that we have only about 40 years left together, and that's a pretty optimistic scenario. That's not enough! There's so much we want to do.

Life is so fragile and not to get all cliche on you, but I really do try to live life to the fullest. Still, I think I can do better. I want to do something that's going to make a difference, something important and of service to others. I know my book has helped and/or entertained a lot of people, but I want to do more. I want to have more fun, spend more time with people I love, take some freakin' time to exercise, do more comedy, travel more with Mike, take some trips with the kids, visit my mother in Boise more, see more live music, sit down and read a freakin' book for once, and have some kind of positive impact on others.

Mary Ellen's death--I can't believe it--death!--is making me take a good hard look at how I'm spending my time. I've done the soul searching part; now it's time to strategize. Changes are coming, and what better time to get things rolling?

Overjoyed to be back in Vegas!

2011-12-20T03:02:00.000-08:00

After spending almost a week in Florida--Orlando, Daytona Beach, and back to Orlando again--Sunday night I returned to my beloved Las Vegas. I had a lot of fun with my work friends, but I'm way out of balance. I didn't have much time to myself, and so I'm really, really behind on what feels like every aspect of life. I owe people phone calls, emails, sympathy cards, birthday greetings, replies to Facebook messages... I didn't even get to post on Saturday. And how the hell long has it been since I did a comedy set? Am I even funny anymore? And isn't this the time of year when I should be endlessly promoting my book, Bastard Husband: A Love Story, the greatest gift you could possibly give someone whether they're female, male, old, young, single, divorced, a virgin, or dead?

I hate it when I get so out of whack like this. It won't last, though.

So check out this mannequin my coworkers and I passed on our way to ~~the bar~~ dinner in Daytona. It's hard to believe I've never come across one of these in Sin City.

Looks like Barbie got implants!

Before our flight on Sunday we had lunch at the House of Blues in Downtown Disney. I know that Disneyland/World is friggin' Mecca to a lot of people, but I've tried my entire life to avoid all that. No, we did not take our kids to Disney World when they were little--we sent them off with their grandparents and had a big-ass party at our house hours after their plane left the ground. Disney is just not me. (Remember my visit to LEGOLAND?)

So there I was Sunday afternoon in Downtown Disney, walking in the eye of the perfect storm of everything I hate: kids I'm not related to all running over the place, birds flying inches from my head because they're so used to idiots feeding them, and Christmas music blaring in the streets. I was like, why don't I just find myself a TV with a football game and buy myself a non-alcoholic beer and a friggin' salad?

I swear to God, I'm a female Lewis Black lately. It won't last. (If I say that often enough...)

Well, I did see the humor in this sight.

Everything's "family" in Disney!

Anyway, I'm very happy to be home and once the holidays are over, I'll be back in balance. Fingers crossed.

Still counting the days till I get back to Vegas

2011-12-15T05:20:00.000-08:00

I'm in Daytona Beach for a couple of days now. My impression is, it's kind of a dump. Definitely seen better days. Maybe I'm not hanging in the right parts, but I seem to be in the area where all the resorts are and I get the feeling this is as good as it gets.

On the plus side, the weather since I've been in Florida has been beautiful and the resort in Orlando I stayed in was really high end (even though there was no WiFi). It was nice to sleep with the windows open and leave the doors leading to the screened balcony open all night.

Here's what I woke up to this morning in Daytona.

It doesn't look quite as good in person. (Oh, how can I be such a picky little bitch?)

Have you ever traveled to a place everyone raved about and wondered what they saw that you didn't? Tell me about it!

Quick post -- no WiFi

2011-12-13T03:49:00.000-08:00

I'm in a beautiful resort in Orlando, Florida, but the Wifi is down property-wide so I'm sitting here pecking away on my iPhone. If you know me at all, I don't have to tell you I'm not the most patient person, do this is driving me insane.

This is my first time in Florida. I know I have several dear readers who live here, but I have to tell you, I've never had a burning desire to visit this state. I just got in last night and haven't seen the place in the daytime, so I'll suspend judgment.

You know what? I'm just freakin' miserable. I really just want to go home. I usually love to travel, even for work, but this is going to be a tough week and I don't leave until Sunday.

I know--how can I possibly whine? I'm lucky to have a job and even luckier to have a hot husband I hate to be away from. Bad Linda! But man, I would love this week to fly by. Counting the minutes till I return home...

Reality, why must you be so harsh?

2011-12-11T09:53:00.000-08:00

After a glorious week and a half encompassing Thanksgiving with my family, our surprise wedding and our fantastic California honeymoon, it was back to reality first thing last Monday morning. And by first thing, I mean my alarm went off at 4:15 a.m. so I could make a 6:50 flight to Phoenix.

My work travel has begun. I spent three days at resorts in eastern Arizona. Let me just tell you, it was more than a little difficult to go from this...

to this...

in just a matter of days. Along the way I saw this...

which was quite beautiful. And this...

which piqued my curiosity, to say the least.

Tomorrow morning I get to sleep in until 5:45 since my flight isn't until 8:25. Where am I going this time? You'll find out on Tuesday. It's a state I've never been to, and I've been to almost 40 of them. The city I'll be staying in is on my "Definitely no interest" list, but I'll be working most all the time and won't get to see much anyway.

Work...

After this week I'll be home for at least until after the New Year. I won't be going back to Albany for Christmas since everyone was just here. Oh, it was so great to have them here! I must share some pictures.

Christopher, Courtney and Hazel

(I swear, Courtney looks more like me with every passing day.)

The Most Serious Baby on Earth cracks a smile

Me and Lori at Red Rock

Connor takes a call at the Oval Office

Mom and Santa (my nephew Andy)

(Doesn't my mother look great?)

My grandson is freakin' epic!

I have three-inch heels on in that picture, too--he's gonna be a tall boy!

Okay, I can't put you through any more family photos. Enjoy the rest of the weekend and I'll talk to you from ??? on Tuesday!

The honeymoom -- Part 2 (and a GREAT place to stay in Malibu)

2011-12-08T03:42:00.000-08:00

Okay, so after a couple of nights in Santa Barbara we headed down the Pacific Coast Highway. Our destination: Malibu.

Malibu actually encompasses a 27-mile stretch of highway, and as we rolled into town, we explored the area a bit. We ventured up a huge hill dotted with swanky mansions and happened upon an open house. Mike and I had stopped at an open house in Santa Barbara, too; a 2-bedroom piece-o'-crap property near the water with an asking price of $1.6 million. Unbelievable.

So since we were already in the open house mood, we decided we'd check out this place, too.

Oh, yeah, we could totally be comfortable here

"Maybe they'll have free food," I said, recalling the scene from I Love You, Man where Paul Rudd met Jason Segel.

The house was brand new construction and sure enough, the developer (I think his name was Eric) offered us chicken burritos the minute we walked in. He was a super nice guy and we got a private tour since we were the only ones there.

Check out the view, and how the living room opens to the outdoors.

Outside and over to the right, there's another outdoor living area. Oh, the parties we could have!

Nice bathroom...

But ours at home is awesome, too!

Very cool.

Mike is so good at small talk--as if we were serious buyers. "Yeah, we live in Vegas... I have a software development company... We were just looking at a property in Santa Barbara..." he said.

Honey, I'm thinking, we pulled up in a freakin' Scion.

It was great fun looking around. Soon Eric's friend Jeff came by and we listened to some B Tribe music from the outdoor sound system. We asked about places to stay while in Malibu, and Jeff suggested the Malibu Beach Inn, owned by music mogul David Geffen.

FANTASTIC referral! I can't recommend this place strongly enough. Located just south of the pier, it is fabulous! Every room is right on the ocean.

Rooms have a fireplace and are tastefully decorated

View from the balcony

We were lucky and got a great deal--$299 which included a $130 credit toward dinner, which was incredible. Bonus: we had the waterfront dining room all to ourselves. Perfect.

If you're looking for a nice place to relax, this is it.

... or maybe you want to frolic on the beach in your sexy granny-skirt bathing suit. (I'm no Kim Kardashian, but she might want to consider one of these.)

Queerest person in Southern California

My beloved groom pretending he doesn't know me

Our last stop was Marina Del Ray, where we had lunch with my friend Nina, the Mona character in my book, before heading back to Vegas.

Oh, we had so much fun! GREAT job on the honeymoon, Mike!

Thank you all again for your kind words of happiness for our marriage. We are very, very lucky!

The honeymoon -- Part 1

2011-12-06T03:29:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned in Saturday's post, soon after the gang headed back to Albany last Tuesday, Mike and I left for our honeymoon. Mike insisted on taking charge of this, and at one point he was beside himself because he thought he had failed me terribly and should have left the task to someone who's really good at planning trips. Like me.

But no. He knocked it out of the park.

Our first stop was Santa Barbara, a place I'd always wanted to see. It's a lush, cute city right on the water with a vibrant downtown--lots of funky shops and restaurants and an excellent brew pub. Mmmm. I could never live there, though; I don't think my self-esteem is high enough. Everyone, I mean everyone, is good looking--even the homeless.

I'm not a homeless person, I just look like one.

Warning: The beach in Santa Barbara is full of birds!

Reminds me of Bodega Bay...

I guess a beach full of seagulls is not a newsflash for those of you who spend a lot of time near the ocean. But you know me--I'm not exactly a bird lover.

Linda as Tippi Hedren

On one of the days we took a ride around town. As you can imagine, there are some very nice areas, especially around where Oprah lives. Along our drive we stopped at the Old Mission Santa Barbara.

My handsome husband--I love this man!

The mission is over 200 years old with beautiful grounds and a museum, which I had to rush through because of my fear of scary monk-chanting music and religious statues and images. If you read my book, you know what I'm talking about. I did have fun posing for this picture, though.

Linda as St. Francis

There was also a cemetery on the grounds, at which point Mike lamented, "This trip sucks. I can't believe I brought you to a cemetery on our honeymoon."

"Oh, honey, that's nothing compared to the bird beach and the scary religious rooms." Then I tried to make him feel better by adding, "But I wasn't at all creeped out by the skull and crossbones over the entrance to the chapel."

He hung his head. "My love, how can I make this up to you?"

"Well, I can think of one place you could take me to tonight..."

Ross Dress for Less, Santa Barbara

Best. husband. ever.

Next: Things pick up considerably when we head down the coast...

Finally! Surprise wedding details and photos

2011-12-03T10:51:00.000-08:00

WHEW! Mike and I just got back from our honeymoon last night. Between Thanksgiving, our wedding party and our honeymoon, it's been a wild week and a half!

So, were you surprised to hear we got married last Saturday night? Seems like a lot of people were! Mike and I had been talking about gettin' hitched for quite a while, and since most of my family planned to spend Thanksgiving in Las Vegas anyway, we figured that would be the perfect time.

Here's the gang pre-flight at the Albany Airport the day before Thanksgiving. Mom and Stepdaddy arrived earlier in the week and my brother and his family came Thanksgiving Day.

My friend Babs had a surprise wedding a couple of years ago--that's where I got the idea. I thought it was brilliant--no gifts, no formalities, no expectations. All anyone had to do was show up. Everyone thought we were having a regular old house party, a little get together in our new place so our Vegas friends could meet our families and vice versa. But nooooo...

The calm before the storm

We told our guests to dress casually or wear whatever the hell they felt like wearing; we wanted the party to be all about comfort and fun. I swear, I asked Mike to wear shorts and a polo shirt--his daily year-round uniform. (People with ADD, I've learned, wear the same thing every day.) As for me, I just wanted to find something that wouldn't make me look obese. NOTE: You're never at your thinnest during Thanksgiving weekend.

I told everyone the party would start at 7:00, and to be sure to be here by 7:45 for "the Amway presentation." Oh, Linda, you're such a stitch! My friend Reverend Janet was scheduled to arrive at 8:00. The only people in on the secret were my kids, Mike's kids, my sister Stacie (who had to fly in from Virginia and wasn't originally going to come for Thanksgiving) and my sister Lori.

Thank God for Lori! She not only handled all the food for Thanksgiving dinner, but for the party as well. I swear, I am so bad with food--the first time I knew adulthood was going to suck was when I realized I could no longer swing a party with a keg and a few bags of Doritos. I did, however, ensure there was a wonderful assortment of beer and Two Buck Chucks for the wedding. I know--very classy.

People started arriving right at 7:00 and by 8:00 we had a packed house. I think I counted 61, and I feel so bad because I totally forgot to invite a couple of my friends. Really, I hate that. Janet arrived shortly after 8:00 and after we settled the final details, Lori corralled everyone into the living room.

Check out Mike coming down the stairs--almost late for his own wedding.

Lori got everyone's attention and started by saying we had a special guest with us tonight: Janet Miller, my friend who officiated at our mother's wedding at the Tropicana in 2006. Mom and Stepdaddy were surprised and happy to see Janet; she'd done a beautiful job with their vows. Then Lori said that Janet also did her and Russ's surprise 20-year anniversary renewal ceremony I arranged for them at the top of the Stratosphere two years ago.

Janet took over from there. She said something like, "When Linda called me for Lori's ceremony, I told her I thought she was calling to say she was getting married. But Linda said, 'Never again!' Well, never say never... This is not just a house party--you're here for Linda and Mike's wedding!"

People couldn't believe it--it was so fun!

My daughter, Courtney, started things off with one of her beautiful songs.

Then Janet performed a touching ceremony. Seriously, if you ever want to get married or renew your vows in Vegas, let me hook you up. Janet is the best!

This was so funny--when Janet asked Mike for the ring, he was like, "Oh, the ring!" and ran out of the room. Yep, he forgot the ring. That's my Mike!

My son, Christopher, sang one of his songs next, backed up by Courtney's husband, John. Mike's 11-year-old son Sean closed out the ceremony with an original composition on the piano. What a joy it was to have our kids share their music at our wedding!

With the ceremony done, it was time to party. And in our family, it's not a party without music by Talking Heads.

Wedding cake for us? Hell, no--cupcakes! And no, we didn't smush them in each others faces--why start a marriage with a fist-fight?

Only 1 million calories each, but worth every one!

As usual, people like to congregate in the kitchen. This was toward the end of the night--at one point, it was so packed, you couldn't move.

I think the last of us went to bed around 1:30. We were so psyched that we were able to pull it off so well--everyone was truly surprised. Really, it couldn't have gone any better. So happy!

This was the first time my and Mike's kids met, and the two families blended beautifully--after all, my kids are in their 30's and his are still so young. Besides his children, Mike just has a sister in Florida, and now they all of a sudden have this gigantic family to deal with. It was so cool to see our daughters so happy to finally have sisters!

Everyone went back to Albany and Idaho on Tuesday, and Mike and I left for our honeymoon that afternoon. It was spectacular--I'll tell you about that next time. In the meantime, thank you for all your best wishes!

NOT the post you've been waiting for

2011-11-29T06:15:00.000-08:00

First, thank you all for your best wishes both here and on Facebook. Mike and I truly appreciate your kind words.

I can't wait to share the details of our surprise wedding Saturday night. It was so much freakin' fun! The thing is, I was so busy that night being the hostess and getting married and all, I didn't have time to take pictures.

In fact, the only picture I have of that night is this one. Mike had the brilliant idea of setting up a projector and I was like, "Wouldn't it be cool to show Pee Wee's Big Adventure during our party?" (With the sound muted, of course.) So while waiting for our guests to arrive, I took this photo.

That is pretty cool, but I know that's not even close to the photos you want to see. But have no fear--my family took pictures of the festivities, I just don't have them yet. We've been having too much fun!

The loony family Mike married into -- pray for him!

Trust me, I'm planning on writing an epic wedding post, but realistically I don't think I'll get to it until Saturday. I know--can you believe I'm making you wait that long? So mean.

In the meantime, just know that I'm having a freakin' blast. Again, thank you all!

I told you I've been busy!

2011-11-27T21:31:00.000-08:00

Yup! Details and photos to come...

Happy, happy, happy and thankful

2011-11-24T05:18:00.000-08:00

Hey, everyone!

Hope you're enjoying your Thanksgiving. Our house is Party Central these days and so I'm going to take a little bloggy break today. I hope to be able to post on Saturday, but if I don't, you'll know I'm having a swingin' time and don't want to break the momentum.

I love you all. XOXO

Funny pics my friends have posted on Facebook.

2011-11-22T02:58:00.000-08:00

I've come across a few pictures on Facebook that I just have to share. The best part about these is, they're all pics that my friends or friends of friends have actually taken.

This one is courtesy of my comedy friend Bobby Masi, and was taken near Wappingers Falls, NY. He calls it "The Circle of Life." Click on it to see the full effect.

You know how you have some Facebook friends who you don't really know in real life? This woman is a friend of my brother's who became my friend, too. In these times of war, economic depression and world famine, I have to wonder, can her life get any worse?

My friend Cassy posted this one, taken from a road somewhere in Idaho.

Life is flying by, no? Have a great day and love every minute!

Demi and Ashton -- Too much of an age difference?

2011-11-19T23:18:00.000-08:00

You know I love my celebrities. This week I'm feeling for my gal Demi.

"It is with great sadness and a heavy heart that I have decided to end my six-year marriage to Ashton. As a woman, a mother and a wife there are certain values and vows that I hold sacred, and it is in this spirit that I have chosen to move forward with my life. This is a trying time for me and my family, and so I would ask for the same compassion and privacy that you would give to anyone going through a similar situation."

We don't have to read too far between the lines, do we? I know... none of us knows what really went on between them, but I have to believe there's some truth to all the tabloid reports of his indiscretions. And I also have to wonder how much the more than 15-year age difference played a part in their decision to split.

I've written about age differences before--check these posts. A few years ago, I met a 55-year-old man whose wife was 70. I have to admit when he told me that, I stopped in my tracks. I know I shouldn't generalize, but if you think of any mature 25-year-old guy with a 40-year-old woman, the age difference doesn't seem insurmountable. But I think the older they get, the more the difference makes a... difference.

I've come to realize I really like being with someone my own age. Personally, I can't imagine going for someone 15 years older--he'd be 69! I can't seriously imagine 15 years younger, either--I'd make an exception for Prince Harry, of course--though I could see myself with a 39-year-old a lot easier than a 69-year-old.

What do you think?

How significant is an age difference when it comes to relationships?

How much older or younger could YOU go?

Accidentally trendy

2011-11-17T03:57:00.000-08:00

Has anyone noticed that my "I'm an a-hole" label (right column) has 42 associated posts? And there are probably just as many posts that I simply forgot to tag. There's just no denying it; I'm an a-hole. Here's more evidence.

So look at me all trendy-like with the skinny jeans ripped at the knee. I must have paid a fortune to achieve this incredibly hip look, right?

Um, no. I got these jeans at Target for about $15.99. And the knee peeking through is the result of a fabulous fall I took a couple of weeks ago. It wasn't nearly as dramatic as when I fell and got a rug burn at work (Reason #427 why I make an awesome co-worker), but it was impressive nonetheless.

I was leaving the Las Vegas Valley Book Festival, which was held at the historic Fifth Street School in downtown Las Vegas. I walked off a curb I totally didn't see (it wasn't next to a street or anything) and took a good tumble--my chin even grazed the sidewalk. I scraped my knee--big deal. A security guard rushed over and said, "Ma'am! Are you all right?" and I was like, "Yeah, I just wish I had more of an audience. Did anyone else happen to catch that?"

You and I both know it can be hilarious when somebody falls (and they're not seriously hurt). I was laughing and was hoping the security guard could get some joy out of my fall, but he was all serious and attentive. Just doing his job, I suppose. The best part is, if you know me, you know I walk around all smiley and confident--head high, shoulders back and down--like I own the freakin' world. It had to be funny as hell to see me land on the sidewalk in a heap.

I'm going to be a blast when I get old, don't you think? I'd better stock up on those "I've fallen and I can't get up!" necklaces now.

P.S. A few of you have been asking me about Hurricane Mikey. I passed the word on to him and he posted a little something yesterday. All is well!

I sleep around... and with strangers

2011-11-15T07:51:00.000-08:00

I spent a good portion of Sunday afternoon cleaning out my closet. You may wonder what I could possibly have left after the famous Purgefest 2010, but I still found enough crap for one bag of trash and another for Goodwill. Aaah... it feels great to get rid of stuff.

In one box I found a pair of antique brass candlesticks I'd all but forgotten about. There's a story behind them.

Back in 2001 I was working as a contract trainer for Fleet Bank. To this day, that was the best job I ever had. I not only loved training, but I worked only 15 days a month and had the remaining week off. And I was paid $425/day. I haven't been able to find a job like that since.

Anyway, I was conducting a training session down on Long Island. I woke up that Friday morning--the last day of the training--with a wicked head cold. You know how some days you're not even out of bed and you're already counting the minutes until you can get back under the covers? Ugh. It was going to be a long friggin' day and on top of it, that evening I had to fly back to Buffalo, where I was living with B.H.

I somehow got through the training, sniffing away the whole goddamn day. I was so happy when I finally dropped off my rental car at MacArthur Airport--soon I'd be on a plane and would at least be able to close my eyes for a while.

But no. When I checked in I was told my flight to Buffalo was canceled and I'd have to take a shuttle to LaGuardia Airport, where I'd be able to catch another flight. I couldn't believe it; I was ready to cry.

The "shuttle" turned out to be a taxicab, which I shared with two other women who were traveling separately to Buffalo. They were maybe 10 years older than me. Both of them were nice enough and I forced some small talk, but I was feeling absolutely miserable. Plus I felt terribly guilty that they had to ride with grumpy old me and my disgusting runny nose and Kleenexes full of germs.

We checked in together at LaGuardia and went our separate ways as we finally boarded the plane. Hallelujah, I'll be home soon, I thought as I settled into my window seat. But about forty-five minutes outside of Buffalo, the pilot announced that we were unable to land because of fog we'd be turning around and heading back to LaGuardia. We'd have to spend the night there and we'd all be booked on flights departing in the morning.

OMFingG, I had all I could do to not burst into tears. From the moment I woke up, I couldn't wait for that day to end and now it was getting even longer.

I met up with my two lady friends at the U.S. Airways ticket counter back at LaGuardia. We were all reassigned to flights departing in the morning; they opted for the first flight out, but I wanted a later flight so I could sleep in a bit. We were also informed that the airline would not be putting us up for the night; we were on our own when it came to that.

A look of despair came over both of the ladies' faces. Who could have predicted they'd be stuck in a big New York City airport? "What do we do now?" one of them asked.

"I have an expense account for work," I said. "You can stay with me."

And so we hopped on a shuttle to the nearest Marriott, where I got us a room with two queens and a roll out bed. At eleven o'clock at night, they treated me to a snack in the restaurant (miraculously, I was starting to feel a little less stuffy) and then the three of us, three women who were strangers just a few hours before, headed up to the room for our little pajama party.

I slept soundly and barely managed to raise my head to say good-bye when they tiptoed out of the room early the next morning. I woke up feeling much better for my eleven o'clock flight back to Buffalo. It was uneventful, thank God, except for the fact that Hillary Clinton was sitting in first class.

A few weeks later I received a package in the mail. One of the women sent me a lovely note and two brass candlesticks from her antique shop. I displayed them for years and then somewhere along the line packed them into a box. When I came across them on Sunday, I had to smile.

Quick update

2011-11-13T00:38:00.000-08:00

Oh, dammit. I didn't get this post in when it was still Saturday. It's just after midnight as I'm writing this.

Today I was part of an authors' event at the Sahara West Library here in Las Vegas. I read a few passages from my book and talked about my experience writing a memoir. I absolutely love doing library presentations! I went through a period several years ago when I was vice president of the Henderson Writers' Group where I seemed to do those library events every time I turned around. Unfortunately, that was before my book was published; I could have sold a lot more books had it been ready by then. Since then there seems to have been a lot of cutbacks; many libraries are no longer open at night.

Forgive me for saying this again, but I am really proud of my book. People laughed out loud as I read from it today, and for some reason those laughs mean so much more to me than the laughs I get from my comedy. They seem much more authentic, I think because the material is my book is more authentic. Though there's a lot of reality in my comedy, to be sure.

I don't have any comedy dates scheduled right now. No doubt I'll do an open mic soon, but I don't want to schedule anything until I get a little more set with my work and associated travel obligations. Already I've had a change in travel plans; I was supposed to go to Santa Fe next Friday and come back on Monday, but that trip is now canceled. Of course, I already booked my flight. Using my own credit card. (No corporate cards.)

I hope this job works out. That's all I'll say right now. The universe unfolds in divine order, I keep reminding myself.

At any rate, the other aspects of life are spectacular. I'm in love, have new Sponge Bob pajamas, and I have A LOT to look forward to in the next few weeks. Like the people in AA, I'm taking one day at a time.

Guest blogger for Veteran's Day --GREAT post!

2011-11-11T10:48:00.000-08:00

Today I proudly present my sister Lori Biker as a guest blogger. Here is her account of her recent visit to the World War II memorial in Washington, DC, with two very special people.

October 22nd was a very special day as Patriot Flight Inc. was taking another trip to Washington DC. Patriot Flight Inc. organizes trips for WWII vets to fly to Washington DC and visit the WWII Memorial, all expenses paid!

On this day, I was fortunate to be a guardian/escort for the vets. I was assigned to two 86-year-old men, Bob and Ed, who have been friends for 65 years. They were a pleasure from the second I met them. We boarded a bus in a nearby parking lot and left for the Albany Airport.

An estimated 150 motorcycles and 6 fire companies provided the escort, while numerous police vehicles were traffic blockers for our nonstop ride. They received a hero's welcome at the airport. Bikers, firefighters in dress uniforms,color guard and many others lined their walkway as The Yankee Doodle Band played. The airport never looked so wonderful.

On the plane we went! Aren't they cute! I had a ball! Ed wouldn't let me sit between them; he told Bob he wanted me all to himself.

We talked all day. They told me stories about their lives, and how they still visit regularly. Bob says Ed comes to the house to visit his wife, not him! Ed's wife passed a few years ago. He says he is comforted that she is in heaven and looks forward to being with her again. In the meantime, he flirts with every girl he can! They didn't talk much about wartime, but it was understood that they served their country to the best of their ability and were very proud of it. Today they felt like they won the Congressional Medal of Honor!

They were given red carpet treatment every step of the way. The Southwest Airline crews announced them on the flights and cheered them along. In Baltimore, they were greeted by hundreds of Naval cadets, saluting them, talking with them, thanking them. We ate at the Golden Corral, again being recognized and honored. Even our return to Albany at 10:00 p.m., there were color guards and a bagpiper welcoming them home.

In Washington, we saw the WWII, WWI, U.S. Navy, Korean War, Vietnam, Marine Corp Iwo Jima and Air Force memorials. Clearly, the WWII Memorial was the highlight of their day. It is the most beautiful memorial and it was to honor them.

People greeted them and thanked them for their service. Children shook their hands and thanked them for their freedom. Tears wet my face many times on this day! Before we left the WWII Memorial, we all stood together and sang "God Bless America." To me, this was the most touching moment of the day. Listening to these old and somewhat fragile voices belting out this tune with pride, watching their faces and the faces of all the tourists who stopped to join in was just amazing. I was so honored to be there with these great people.

So, today I thank Bob and Ed for the service they gave to our country, I thank them for my freedom and I thank them for a day that truly changed my life.

Thank you, Lori! And thank you to all the veterans who have served our country. For another beautiful post and poem from my blogging buddy, Colleen Davignon, click here. And if you're new to my blog, please take a moment to read my post from Veteran's Day 2008 about my favorite Vietnam vet.

Happy Veteran's Day, everyone!

Everything's a joke...

2011-11-10T05:13:00.000-08:00

Wow. Working again is kicking my ass. I'm exhausted! You know how it is when you start a new job--it takes a lot out of you. I don't know whether I'm so tired from having to learn so much new stuff or from putting on my Mrs. Nice Girl front, smiling and nodding in all the right places and making pretend I'm an easygoing team player when in reality, well... you know.

All I can say is thank God tomorrow's a holiday and then I have five days of work and then the week after will be a short one because of Thanksgiving. Yup, I'm back to living from one day off to the next. What a worker this one is...

So last Sunday morning Mike and I went to IHOP for breakfast (because I'm friggin' worth it). I was the only one who ordered coffee and our waitress--let's call her "Juanita"--set down this bowl of creamers in front of me.

"Oh, that's not going to be nearly enough," I told her, because yes, everything is a joke to me.

She returned a minute later with this.

I'm not exactly sure whether or not she knew I was kidding, but either way, that made my day.

Speaking of everything's a friggin' joke to me, I bought these Sponge Bob pajamas in Ross the other night when I was supposed to be shopping for work clothes. I know--as if I'm not sexy enough!

I like to keep Mike's kids wondering about me, like what kind of a whack job got involved with their father, anyway? The 6-year-old loved them.

Her: "I have Sponge Bob pajamas, too, Linda."
Me: "They're pretty cool, huh?"
Her: "Yeah, and someday I'll have two Sponge Bob pajamas."
Me: "You will?"
Her: "Yeah, you know. I can have yours when you're duh-duh-duh..."
Me: "DEAD???"
Her: "Yeah."

Niiiiiice.

Hope you have tomorrow off, too! Don't forget to hug a vet!

Quick post -- new job is cool

2011-11-08T06:36:00.000-08:00

I have to make this quick today. First of all, thanks for all the comments on my last post. I don't always get a chance to acknowledge them, but I really do appreciate every comment you leave. Yeah, I know about the new Modern Warfare III release, but fortunately those games seem to be a thing of the past in this house. THANK GOD! I know the boys will get it, though, and no doubt there'll be a resurgence of violence in our living room, but at least in this house, I have a place to escape from it.

Well, I started my new job yesterday. You know me, I'd much rather be home, but I think this gig will be cool. I have a fantastic boss, which as you know, can make or break a job. He lives in England, but is here in the States a lot, so I will be working with him quite a bit.

I'm gonna make a generalization, but those Brits have a good sense of humor, which I appreciate. Of course on my first day I had to ask him if he likes Ricky Gervais. Fortunately, he said yes or I'm afraid I'd have to quit; I couldn't possibly work for someone who doesn't like Ricky.

The boss is a lot of fun and no matter what he says sounds a hundred times better because of his accent. That was one thing I really missed when B.H. and I split up--I could have listened to him for hours. Jeez, I am shallow.

Anyway, it looks like my first trip will be to Orlando in December. But before then, I have TONS of stuff going on. There are simply not enough hours in the day.

Sorry this is such a boring post. To make it up to you, I shall leave you with some words from Betty White.

XOXO

Early Christmas present and a new haircut, too

2011-11-05T17:37:00.000-07:00

Choosing your partner's Christmas present can be a real pain. You want to buy something they're really going to like, but most of the time that's easier said than done. Well, I made it easy for Mike this year.

Yesterday we were in Lowe's. Again. Mike's been going nuts lately buying a new houseplant every time I turn around, so while he looked for his next purchase in the garden section, I decided to roam around a bit. Two minutes later, I returned to him, so excited I could jump out of my skin.

"Mike! Mike! I never ask for anything. Please buy me this! Buy me this for Christmas. Pleeeeease!"

He looked at me like I was insane. "What? What?"

At that moment, I screamed. Mike threw a protective arm around me. "WHAT?"

"There's a bird in the store!" I regained my composure. "That's not what I want for Christmas."

"You found something you want for Christmas in Lowe's?"

I took his hand. "I'll show you. Close your eyes. You won't believe this. I'm so excited!" I led him through the store. "Don't peek. DON'T PEEK!"

We stopped in front of the Christmas section. Christmas?! Me?! I can't freakin' stand Christmas. All I've done for the past 20 years is bitch about Christmas and how much I can't stand it. And now I want something for Christmas that's in the Christmas section? Yes, that is correct.

"Okay, open your eyes."

Mike opened his eyes and was like, "What the...?"

"I want this. For Christmas. You'll be totally off the hook. You won't have to buy me anything else. If you don't get this for me, I'll buy it myself. I love this! I can't live without it!"

Even though he was all like, "Wow, Linda. Really? This is what you want for Christmas?" he did, in fact, buy it for me. I was so freakin' happy!!! I was already having a great day--I got a cool, funky (and long overdue) haircut from my fellow comedian friend, Lynn Yafchak, and was feeling like a new woman. And now, to find this awesome Christmas present...

Of course, Mike got it for me (I love him!!!) and put it together as soon as we got home. Are you ready?

Ta-da!

HOW FREAKIN' COOL IS THAT???

It's an alternative Christmas tree! And the best part is, I can put hearts all over it in February and shamrocks in March. I can even put it outside if I want. That's right, I can enjoy my Christmas tree all year 'round!

I freakin' love that thing. And Mike--best. boyfriend. ever. I'm a lucky, lucky girl.

You can't tell from this picture, but this haircut is SASSY!

Loving every minute

2011-11-03T12:49:00.000-07:00

I start my new job on Monday. In a few days, the structure of my life is going to change dramatically. I'll be getting up at 6:15, showering, picking out a cute outfit or whatever makes me look the thinnest, packing a lunch, and cruising down the freeway along with the other commuters, hoping to be situated at my desk across town by 8:00.

That means no more staying up until 2 a.m writing blog posts or catching up on blog reading or Facebook while Mike works on his software application just a few feet away from me. Mike's kids, on the days we have them, will probably still be in bed when I leave in the morning, so there'll be no more sitting at the kitchen table together while they eat their cereal and tell me their plans for the day ahead.

Most of the time, though, I won't be home at all. I'll be flying to destinations not yet identified, securing a rental car, checking into my room at the resort, unpacking my bags (and hoping I remembered everything I'll need), and then preparing for the week of work ahead of me.

It's sure going to be different.

I've had five glorious weeks off since my last gig ended and I have savored every. single. minute. Because Mike works at home and makes his own schedule, we've been able to enjoy copious quality time together. I love being with this man, no matter what we do. I love walking through our beautiful neighborhood together or scouring the stores for post-Halloween discounts on decorations for next year; I even love rummaging through the boxes of his crap we've yet to unpack from the garage. Whatever we do together, we have fun and find something to laugh about.

Yesterday was an exceptionally great day. In the morning I returned phone calls, caught up on email and sorted through paper work while Mike pulled weeds out front and cleaned up the pool. I know that doesn't exactly sound exceptional, but it was good to get stuff done. Plus I had a fun conversation with my first ex, the father of my children. I don't talk to him often, but I do enjoy catching up with him now and then.

Later in the afternoon, Mike and I decided to go upstairs and take a little siesta. Between dozing off now and then, we lay in bed talking and laughing and enjoying each others skin and admiring the blue sky and the palm trees out our windows. We marveled at how lucky we are to be able to laze around like that in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon.

At around 4:00 we came downstairs to the kitchen. Scanning through Facebook on my iPhone, I came across Mona Simpson's poignant eulogy for her brother, Steve Jobs. After reading the first couple of paragraphs to myself, I realized this was something Mike would be interested in so I read it aloud, from the beginning. About halfway through I got choked up and could no longer continue. Mike took my phone and read the rest to me, his voice remaining steady even at the end as he read Jobs' final words: "Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow."

"I can't talk about this right now," Mike said as he returned my phone. Neither could I. He retreated to our office and I went back upstairs to shower and get ready for our 6:00 dinner engagement.

Back in September I met a neat 80-year-old guy at Starbucks who'd taken a liking to me. I saw Al again last week and invited him to come to see my set at the Las Vegas Comedy Show last Saturday night. Al took me up on my offer and I had passes waiting for him and his wife, Pat, and another couple, Jeanette and Dick, at the box office. Afterward Mike and I chatted with the four of them a bit before heading home. On Monday, Al called to invite us to join them for dinner at the steakhouse in the South Point, where they're able to get comps. Sweet of him.

On our way over, Mike and I were able to share our thoughts about Mona Simpson's words without tearing up. I hope you take time to read it; it's a powerful piece, an eloquent expression of how precious and fragile life is.

Dinner was lovely. The food was delicious and the company was even better. Al and Pat have been married 55 years; I think Jeanette and Dick are at number 48. They're all fun as hell and aren't above drinkin' and swearin'--two of my favorite pastimes. The four of them have lived together in another part of our development for the past 11 years, and not because of economic reasons. Pat and Dick are first cousins and have been close all their lives. It's clear they all truly love being together and they're having a ball. At one point Jeanette turned to me and said, "I don't know what we'll do when one of us goes."

It was 10:00 by the time we left the restaurant. Driving home, Mike and I reflected on our amazing day. Nothing extraordinary happened; Beverly D'Angelo didn't pop by and we didn't win the Powerball or anything. But we both felt such a sense of appreciation for being able to putter around in the morning, lie in each others arms all afternoon, share a beautiful eulogy, and then enjoy the company of four special people whom we'd never have the pleasure to know had I not smiled at an old man in the coffee shop.

Everything changes on Monday. Mike and I won't have the kind of time together like we've had for the past five weeks. I won't see his kids as much. The new structure will bring new opportunities; I'll make friends at work and will meet all sorts of characters in my travels. Still, I hate to see this time end.

It has to, though. Nothing can last forever; otherwise, we wouldn't appreciate it. Whether it's Christmas Day, time off between jobs, or life itself... eventually it will end. And that's why it's so important to love every minute.

People aren't blogging like they used to, but I still will

2011-11-01T00:39:00.000-07:00

I've noticed that some of my blogging buddies aren't posting like they used to. Hurricane Mikey hasn't posted anything in almost a month and my dear friend over at I Hate to Weight has gone longer than that. My BFF Julie of 47 and Starting Over fame is another one who's posting only occasionally now.

Believe me, I'm not making any judgments. Blogging is a ton of work and is extremely time consuming, especially if you're trying to create thoughtful, meaningful posts. I don't blame anyone for backing away from it. I've said before that it's more important to live life than to write about it.

Like November leaves in the Adirondacks, blogging seems to be past peak. Not only do people not have time to blog, but who has time to read this shit? Everyone is busy as hell these days. I get that.

I'm still going to blog. I start my new job next week and I know I'm going to tight as hell time-wise, especially in the beginning as I'm learning the ropes, but I am going to do everything in my power to maintain the Tuesday-Thursday-Saturday posting schedule I've had since I started this blog in July 2008.

My blog is important to me; it's a 3+ year creation. It's a documentation of my life. Back when I taught writing classes, I used to always tell my students "the faintest ink is better than the sharpest memory." There are so many details about my life I would have forgotten had I not posted in this blog, so I'm not going to stop.

I blog primarily for myself. If I had not a single reader, I would still blog. Writers write, and blogging provides a structure for me to write on a consistent basis. But of course, my readers are important to me; you provide me with a sense of accountability. So I want to ask a few questions.

What would you like to see more of in this blog? Are there any particular topics you'd like me to weigh in on?

Has your blog reading increased or decreased over time?

How many blogs do you follow religiously? What are some cool blogs I should know about?

Thank you, and as always, I truly appreciate your stopping by here.

Playing tourists in Las Vegas

2011-10-29T10:46:00.000-07:00

So where was I on Thursday where I had no Internet access? Some remote area of northern Nevada? A desolate canyon in Utah, perhaps?

No, try the Rio Las Vegas Hotel and Casino. Mike and I had the carpets cleaned and so while they dried we decided to get out of the house and be tourists. There are some great mid-week deals here, and we were able to get a room at the Rio for only $49.

One thing you have to watch for when you book a room in Las Vegas is the resort fees; you may be enticed by the advertised price only to find you'll be paying significantly more in the end. The Rio and their associated brands (Caesar's, Bally's, Harrah's, Paris, Planet Hollywood, Flamingo, Imperial Palace) do not charge resort fees, which is nice.

BUT, as I found out, WiFi will cost you $13.95 a day. Ah, there's the rub. Non, merci. Especially since I'd already opted for a $10 upgrade for a room with a view of the Strip. No more "feature creep" for me.

I stayed at the Rio once before back in 2003 when B.H. and I were still living in Utah. I remember being very impressed. This time the room seemed kind of standard to me, and I had even requested a refurbished room.

Certainly nice enough, though, and with 600 square feet, there's plenty of space. I think part of the problem is that waking up every day at home in our own beautiful master suite, I'm pretty freakin' spoiled.

Anyway, Mike had a Halloween function at the kids' school, so I checked into the room early and we made plans to meet downstairs at the I-bar when he got there. Being me, I had to have some fun with this--I packed a super short miniskirt that I don't even wear when I'm doing comedy, a sleazy Ross cleavage blouse, and (what else?) my 4-inch heels. Plus--and this part is hysterical--I even curled my hair (!!!). Now that would be a picture.

I kind of felt like a hooker sitting there waiting for Mike to arrive, but he certainly seemed to appreciate it. Later in the poker room, a guy said to him, "It looks like you've already won"--ha! It's all about keeping it interesting, folks.

Later we took a break and went back to the room to watch Modern Family. What a great show; I'm convinced it will go down in television history right up there with Seinfeld. I know--who goes to Vegas to watch TV, but I'm always a little surprised to see the old boxy televisions in hotel rooms.

A couple of other things about the Rio. We did have a fridge (which I loaded with a six-pack) and there was a coffee maker, but you had to go downstairs and buy the little packets for $8.00. Um, no. But I'll tell you, the customer service in that place was superb. Every single person we encountered--the girl at check-in, the bartenders, the security personnel who not only offered directions but escorted us to our destination--everyone was pleasant and courteous and not once we were addressed as "you guys."

The next morning on our way home we stopped in at the M Resort for breakfast at Hash House a Go-Go. They have several locations throughout the Vegas valley. The portions are generous and the food is delicious.

We sat overlooking the pool, which was nice.

I took that shot seconds before I nearly spit my coffee all over the window when Mike unexpectedly started talking like Adam Sandler.

He also does impressions of Spiro Agnew

Anyway, it was a great little getaway and we would seriously take advantage of the low rates again. But where next time?

Where are your favorite places to stay in Las Vegas?

Late post today

2011-10-27T05:47:00.000-07:00

Hey, I'm somewhere without Internet access (can you imagine?) and I don't have the patience to peck away too long on my iPhone, so I'll be posting late today. Stay tuned!

Animal rescue. Well, kind of. Okay, not really.

2011-10-25T00:35:00.000-07:00

Standing on my balcony last week I thought, "Gee, that lion out by the pool is kind of boring, all white and everything."

Upon closer look, I concluded the poor thing was in dire need of a makeover.

Not good.

Mmmm. Well, I happen to have a little bit of time on my hands these days, so I took a trip to Michael's craft store to buy some supplies. I spent a whole freakin' day transforming that poor lion into what can only be described as a work of art.

Look at him now!

I can only imagine what the neighbors think.

The face was the hardest part. At one point I had a red-eyed evil lion face going on, and I thought, "Jesus H, I don't want to scare the kids." It was so funny I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard. In the end, I came up with this face.

The hearts on his nose and chin and the nail polish give him a much softer look, don't you think?

If Mike doesn't already think I'm nuts, he certainly does now. When I told him I was going to paint the thing, he replied with his standard, "Whatever you want, my love." And then when I spent hour upon hour applying layer upon layer of color on it, he realized he was in new territory and probably wondered what the hell he's gotten himself into.

Mike had never even heard of me painting anything but a bookshelf, and the truth is, I'm not an artist. At all. I just bought some paints and started fooling around with no real plan in mind. Just like in real life, when I got to a point where I didn't like where it was going, I changed course and tried something different.

There's a lot to be learned from my little surge of creativity. I'm sure a "real" artist would go, "That's a total piece of shit," but who cares? No one does anything perfectly right out of the gate, and there's always going to be someone who can do better than you can. So what? I had a ball with it, and the kids love it. The 11-year-old told me, "I knew you're a writer, but I didn't know you could do that!" Hahahaha!

The truth is, it actually came out better than I expected. I now sit at the kitchen table and laugh at its goofiness, which is a lot better than saying, "We gotta get rid of that goddamn thing." It's cool now. And now I have one more thing for my resume.

Okay, maybe not quite yet.

That elderly couple who died holding hands and the story we don't hear about

2011-10-22T14:01:00.000-07:00

Surely you've heard about the couple who was married for 72 years and died holding hands within an hour of each other. The story's been all over the Internet. Here's the article that appeared in The Huffington Post:

For one Iowa couple, true love lasted until the very end. Married 72 years, Norma, 90, and Gordon Yeager, 94, died in the hospital holding hands last week, one hour apart. The couple was hospitalized after a car accident just outside of Marshalltown, Iowa. They were given a shared room in the ICU where they held hands in adjacent beds.

At 3:38 pm last Wednesday, Gordon's breathing stopped. Though he was no longer alive, his heart monitor continued to register a beat. The nurse told Gordon and Norma's son, Dennis Yeager, that the monitor was beeping "because they're holding hands, and [Norma's heart beat] is going through them," Dennis recalled in an interview with Des Moines' KCCI news station. "Her heart was beating through him."

Norma died at 4:38 pm, exactly one hour later.

Gordon and Norma's children say they're glad the couple passed this way. "They just loved being together," says Dennis. "He always said, 'I can't go until she does because I gotta stay here for her.' And she would say the same thing."

Sweet story, huh? Okay, not to be a bummer wet blanket, but there's a part of this tale that hasn't gotten the publicity. If you dig a little deeper, you'll find this article, with the following information.

The accident that claimed Gordon, 94, and Norma Yeager, 90, happened Oct. 12, when the couple left their State Center home for a drive shortly after 8 a.m. At the intersection of Highway 30 and Jessup Avenue, just west of Marshalltown, Gordon pulled "away from the stop sign and failed to yield to a westbound vehicle," according to Sgt. Joel Ehler of the Iowa State Patrol.

The driver of the other car, Charles Clapsaddle, 64, of Marshalltown, was unable to stop to avoid a collision, Ehler said.

Clapsaddle was treated and released from Marshalltown Medical & Surgical Center, but his wife, Barbara, was reportedly transferred to Methodist Medical Center in Des Moines. A man who identified himself as their son, John, said in a comment published on a story on the Times-Republican website that his mother suffered internal bleeding and a broken neck.

“She is currently stable but remains in the critical care unit,” he wrote. “There will be a long road ahead for her recovery.

Ehler said Yeager was facing pending action by the Iowa Department of Transportation to have his license removed, but citing privacy concerns, said he could release no additional details on what prompted that action.

So the story behind the story is that old Mr. Yeager probably should never have been behind the wheel and now a woman has a broken neck (doesn't that mean paralysis of some kind?) and a long, long recovery ahead of her. One can only imagine the financial devastation this will cause to her as well.

I say shame on the news media for focusing solely on the touching details--the wife's heartbeat on the monitor is quite powerful--and not taking the opportunity to educate the public on the dangers of elderly drivers. As one commenter on this site put it:

"My prayers are for Barbara Clapsaddle & her family. Mr. Yeager should never have been behind the wheel of that car. I lost my husband to an elderly driver, and I am disappointed in this article--a missed opportunity to bring to attention the horrible ramifications of some elderly drivers who selfishly refuse to give up driving and their children who cannot be bothered to take responsibility."

What say you?

Good news!

2011-10-20T04:45:00.000-07:00

Remember I told you about that amazing job prospect on my radar screen? The one where I'd be doing software training in resorts all around the U.S. and Europe? Well, I got it!

The job is about 75% travel; 85% domestic and 15% European. I've never started a travel job while in a relationship (if you read my book, you know I met B.H. while on the road), but Mike and I are determined to make it work. I will miss him, of course, and there's a part of me that can't bear to leave this gorgeous house we've put together. But this job seems like a great fit for me--I'll be sooooo happy to do training again instead of sitting in a goddamn cubicle all day doing technical writing--and my new boss seems cool as hell.

I start on November 7, which is excellent since I still have a couple of glorious work-free weeks. I'm pretty psyched about it--you know me, I love to travel--but in the meantime I am soaking up every minute at home with my beloved, doing the final touches on the house and just enjoying each other.

I'm really going to miss our daily walks. Here are a couple of pics from our walk yesterday.

Las Vegas is picture perfect this time of year, and we've been lucky lately since there's been no wind. When you have shitty, fragile hair like mine, the wind is not your friend. I didn't have a good hair day for the whole year B.H. and I lived in Wyoming and believe me, that is not good for your self-esteem.

Funny, I've been thinking a lot about B.H. lately, I think because I'm so incredibly happy these days. I would never have made it out West had it not been for him, I really believe that. In my book, I was pissed when a spiritual teacher told me that some people come into our lives as boats, to take us from one place to another. Like everyone who marries someone they're crazy about, I expected it to last forever. I didn't marry a goddamn boat.

When I first met B.H. I was also in a very happy time of life; I remember telling him I was at the top of the Ferris wheel. Then within a couple of years we had been married and divorced, and I totally felt my life was in the shitter. How could it take such a dive? It was so hard for me to understand, and I blamed him.

Now it's obvious to me that he was the perfect boat and once he took me to my destination, he really did need to go his own way, as painful as that was. He forced me to rebuild and dammit, I did. And I'm pretty, pretty, pretty (Larry David) happy about the way things are turning out.

I'm on top of the world!

A woman's place is in the (totally separate) kitchen

2011-10-18T05:21:00.000-07:00

I'm digging life these days, what can I say? People are much more interesting when shit is hitting their personal fan, but I'm happy to report that life lately is (yaawwwwn) pretty damn comfortable.

This is my third week of being out of work and I have no shortage of stuff to do. Mike and I have been walking again--there's a great perimeter road near where we live--and every day our house looks more awesome. The other day I super-cleaned the kitchen and then took a picture of it because, yes, I am that queer.

Whatever.

Do you know that this is the only house we looked at that had a kitchen completely separate from the family room? (The opening to the family room is at the end of the kitchen.) The open floor plan model that's so popular these days doesn't sit well with me; who the hell wants to cook (which is bad enough in itself) and have to listen to whatever the kids are watching/playing on TV? Mike's last house was like that and I was going positively bonkers. The old houses I lived in back East all had separate kitchens, and through they were pretty tiny, it was a much better setup.

I have fond memories of my mother sitting at our kitchen table on Lincoln Avenue having a cigarette and drinking coffee with Mrs. Sacca, the mother of mine and Lori's best friends, Donna and Gina. This was back in the heyday of Mom's agoraphobia, when she was generally in a piss-poor "Jesus Christ all-goddamn mighty" screaming mood, so when we saw Mrs. Sacca strutting down the street heading for our house, we knew the clouds would part for a while. There's nothing like neighborly gossip to lift one's spirits. I can't image the open floor plan of modern houses being conducive to girl talk.

More about Donna and Gina. My sister Lori and I have been friends with these girls since before Kennedy was shot, which means we've been friends for almost 50 years. They're "Vatican twins," born less than a year apart, and are sandwiched chronologically in the two years between me and Lori. They say no one knows your life better than a same-age sibling, and Donna and Gina know my life as well as I do.

Donna, me, Gina, Lori -- BFFs since 1963

Hey, am I the only one who's freaked out that it's been almost 50 years since Kennedy was shot? Jesus H, that's just unreal.

Anyway, getting back to kitchens... Mom's house today in Boise is all open, but it works out great for her and Stepdaddy. B.H. and I lived in a house in Utah with a kitchen/living room combo, and it was fine for us, but I still don't get it if you have a family. Mothers, and especially wicked stepmothers like me, need to stir the cauldron in solitude. If a woman's place is in the kitchen, at least let us have some peace and quiet.

So what do you think? Kitchen/family room combo or a separate kitchen where all the cool friends gather at beer parties?

If you could live anywhere, where would that be?

2011-10-15T10:23:00.000-07:00

Have you ever traveled somewhere and thought, "Wow, I could totally live here"?

You know I've traveled pretty extensively throughout the U.S. I've also been to Ireland (around the Ring of Kerry), the north island of New Zealand, and to the major Canadian cities of Toronto, Montreal, Vancouver, and Victoria.

Many places I love, love, love, to visit, but can't imagine actually living there. New Orleans, New York City, Los Angeles, Montreal, Moab (Utah), and anywhere in Maine, Wyoming and Colorado immediately come to mind.

Arches National Park in Moab--that's me in there!

There's only a handful of places, though, where I have actually imagined myself living on a day-to-day basis.

Prescott, Arizona. This one's at the top of my list. It's a funky little city just a few hours from Las Vegas and not far at all from Sedona and Jerome--two of my all-time favorite places to visit. Prescott has a cute and vibrant downtown with tons of restaurants and bars with live music. They always seem to have a full calendar of cultural events and the people there look educated. You're not too far from Phoenix, either. I tell Mike that Prescott would be a great place to live in our retirement years. And most importantly... they have a Ross.

Bandon, Oregon. Bandon is a very small and picturesque town on the sea. I've been to Bandon only once, back in 2008, and the whole time I was developing a mental strategy on what it would take to move there. It may be a little too small and isolated for me, though. I flew into Eugene, about two hours away, and being so far from a decent sized airport is definitely a pain in the ass--I know that from living in Laramie and Cedar City. Plus, there would be no place for me to do comedy and I didn't see a Ross. Nonetheless, this would be a great place to give small-town life a try while I write my next book. I can't wait to get back.

Carlsbad, California. Just north of San Diego, Carlsbad is another place with a cute downtown walking distance from the ocean. We stopped here when we took the kids to LEGOLAND and it's on our short list for a return trip, a weekend getaway for just the two of us. It probably costs a fortune to live there, though, and we're spoiled by the low cost of housing in Las Vegas. But on the plus side, a Ross can't be too far...

Boise, Idaho. I've talked about Boise so much, you're probably sick of hearing about it. As you can tell, I love a cute and vibrant downtown and Boise has one of the best ever. Plus they have The Flicks, a movie theater with independent films and microbrew beer and wine you can take to your seat. As a college town, Boise has a ton of culture and eclectic music. Bands like Sonic Youth and The Decemberists will bypass Vegas, but stop in Boise. On the down side, it costs a fortune to fly out of there to the East coast and the Mormon culture is a little too prevalent for my taste. But they definitely have multiple Ross stores.

And then there are the places I'd live in a second if it weren't for the damn weather: Albany, New York; Northampton, Massachusetts; and Portland, Maine. I've never been to Portland, Oregon, and I bet I'd really like it but that dreariness would make me mental.

How about you? Where have you visited that made you want to pull up stakes?

Mom, Scrabble, Jeopardy... and Pink Floyd

2011-10-13T03:52:00.000-07:00

I was traveling again last weekend, this time back up to Boise to see Mom and Stepdaddy. As you can see, they're doing very well.

That was taken on the patio of a restaurant on the Boise River. I've said a million times that Boise is a surprisingly cool place, and let me tell you, there are a million great places to eat there, too. If you ever get a chance to check out Boise, do it!

We had a ball last weekend. I'd love to say I kicked their white asses in Scrabble, but the truth is, Stepdaddy blew us away on our first game. We also watched several DVR'ed episodes of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? and Jeopardy and I committed the mortal sin of talking during Final Jeopardy, which brought back of flood of repressed memories from childhood.

"Jesus Christ, I'm here all goddamn day and nobody wants to talk to me and during the thirty goddamn seconds of Final Jeopardy, suddenly I'm the most popular person on earth..."

My formative years might have been MUCH different if only had DVRs had been invented in 1963.

But don't think my weekend was all about Scrabble and recorded episodes of game shows. Sunday night the three of us took in the Australian Pink Floyd tribute show at the Morrison Center on the Boise State University campus.

Me: "You like Pink Floyd, right?
Mom: "Well, I like The Wall."
Me: "Do you want to see Australian Pink Floyd Sunday night?"
Mom: "Sure. We don't have to smoke marijuana beforehand, do we?"
Me: "No, but do you have any Oxycontin left over from your gall bladder operation last year?"

The show was excellent. "Much better than those two old guys we saw a couple of weeks ago," Mom said, referring to Merle Haggard and Kris Kristofferson. I'd say Mom and Stepdaddy were the oldest ones there Sunday night, but one of Mom's friends, who's in her 80s, was volunteering as an usher.

"You remember the Pink Floyd, don't you Diane?" she said as we entered the auditorium.

"Oh, yes!" my mother replied. And then with great pride, she took my arm and said, "I want you to meet my daughter... Um..."

"Linda," I said. My daughter, Um? I didn't let her forget that one!

Let me tell you something. I had a hard time believing my mother's friend was in her 80s; I would have guessed early 70s. Do you know what gave me the impression she was much younger? Her posture! She stood so tall and carried herself like a person half her age. My first yoga teacher, Nancy Kish in Shelton, CT, always said, "You're as young as your spine," and holy crap it is so true!

I've said a million times that the way you carry yourself is SO important. But man, despite my yoga teacher's words, I never associated good posture with youthfulness. So let me tell you one more time to stand up straight and smile. There--you just knocked a few years off your age.

You're welcome.

The company I keep

2011-10-11T04:51:00.000-07:00

I swear I couldn't make this up--see for yourself. According to Amazon, customers who bought Bastard Husband: A Love Story on Kindle also bought books with these titles:

Big White Panties
Do Tampons Take Your Virginity?
The Bitch-Proof Suit
Dating My Vibrator
Douchebag Roulette
Stop Dressing Your Six-Year-Old Like a Skank
Mr. Right for the Night
Gimme Back My Clothes
The Best Thing About My Ass Is It's Behind Me

Is that funny as hell or what? Of course, B.H. is a freakin' literary masterpiece, but I'm still kind of honored to be in such good company!

Great recipe for homemade Bailey's Irish Cream

2011-10-08T00:03:00.000-07:00

Did you EVER think you'd see a recipe on this site??? (I'm actually a pretty good cook; I just don't like to.) Anyway, Mike and I have been fooling around making our own version of Bailey's Irish Cream and we've finally perfected our recipe. This is simple to make, requires just a few ingredients, and the best part is, it requires absolutely no cooking--yay!

To make this delicious concoction, dump the following ingredients into a blender:

1 cup half & half
1 can (14 ounces) sweetened condensed milk
1 teaspoon instant coffee granules
2 tablespoons chocolate syrup
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/8 teaspoon almond extract

Next, very slowly pour in 1 cup of your favorite Irish whiskey.

Blend on high for 20-30 seconds and you're ready for some drinkin'. It's as easy as that!!!

Be sure to store any leftovers in the fridge in a tightly sealed container. Shake well before serving.

No kidding, it tastes awesome!

My Mensa boyfriend figured out the cost of all this (notice I think you have to be in Mensa to do that). The ingredients above cost us $40.26, but we already had the vanilla extract on hand, so figure on laying out a little more. We paid $23.77 for Bushmill's Irish Whiskey; the cost will be significantly lower if you use a cheaper brand or get it on sale. A batch of this (711 ml) using the recipe above costs about $12.50. A 750 ml of Bailey's goes for about $16.50, so it's a bit of a savings, but what can compare to the "I made this myself" satisfaction?

Taste testing in my pajamas

Give it a try and let me know how you like it!

Hmmm, maybe someday I'll post my amazing mac and cheese recipe...

The year in review -- what I did at age 53

2011-10-06T11:16:00.000-07:00

Last year around my birthday, I wrote this post as a recap of what I did while I was 52. Since my birthday was Monday (I know, how many times do you have to hear about my birthday, huh?), I wanted to do the same for this past year.

October 2010. Started off the year in beautiful Lake Placid, New York, on a fun road trip with my daughter and grandchildren.

Connor inherited my "morning hair" gene

Enjoyed the last month with my family in Albany before returning back to Vegas. Saw one of my comic heroes, Louis CK, perform.

November 2010. Took my second cross-country road trip of 2010 with my sister Lori; this time our mother joined us. Oh, what a blast! Went to the racetrack in Churchill Downs, Kentucky; visited Helen Keller's birthplace in Tuscumbia, Alabama, for the second time in six months; saw the world-famous Coon Dog Cemetery and Rattlesnake Saloon (both in northern Alabama); spent three days in Mississippi (including a trip to Elvis' birthplace, explored hot spots like Albany, Texas, and Pie Town, New Mexico; and dragged Mom to at least four biker bars as we made our way back to Vegas.

Memorable video: Running out of gas on the NYS Thruway

Also that month: The Albany newspaper, the Times Union, printed my submission in their weekly "Life Stories" feature that highlights readers' life experiences; went to LA for a weekend to see my friend Nina (the "Mona" character in my book) and saw Archie Bunker's grave in Pierce Bros. Westwood Memorial Park.

December 2010. Was on the Hannity program on Fox News. Never saw that coming! I'm at 1:06. Trust me, I have no clue what I'm talking about. I just wish I'd had to balls to add, "Babba-Booey, Babba-Booey!"

Also that month; Excerpts from Bastard Husband: A Love Story were printed in Oil and Water and Other Things That Don't Mix, an anthology to benefit charities helping those affected by the Gulf oil spill.

January 2011. An essay I had recorded during the summer for WAMC Northeast Public Radio in Albany finally aired. You can listen to it here. Auditioned for America's Got Talent, which was a blast. Took a great trip to Sedona with Mike.

February 2011. Released Bastard Husband: A Love Story on Kindle. Decided I needed some space and rented a small apartment, my own private Linda Land, with an amazing view of the Las Vegas valley.

Also that month: Took a quick trip to see the folks in Boise and Connor came to Vegas for a visit.

March 2011. Met the Original Buns of Steel guy, Greg Smithy. Actually, I flew through the Petco parking lot like Starsky and Hutch and nearly ran him over.

Also that month: Took a trip with Mike to Palm Springs and Joshua Tree National Park.

April 2011. Was the featured speaker at the opening night cocktail reception of the Las Vegas Writers' Conference. The next day I returned to Albany for my granddaughter's first birthday.

Beautiful Hazel with cake in hand

Also that month: Took an overnight trip to Burlington, Vermont, with Connor and visited the Ben & Jerry's ice cream factory. Watched my friend Adrian win second place in the Miss Laughlin contest at the annual Laughlin River Run bike fest.

May 2011. Back to Boise for Mother's Day with Mom.

Also that month: Shit hit the fan with Mike and I moved into Linda Land. For good.

June 2011. Met Mary Wilson of The Supremes at a meeting of the Henderson Writers' Group and the brewmaster of my very favorite places to hang in Las Vegas, Ellis Island Casino & Brewery. Took another trip to Sedona and Prescott, Arizona, this time with my friend Gail.

July 2011. Met Norm MacDonald and Kato Kailin at The Fryer's Club, a weekly gathering for local comics. Announced that Mike and I were splitsville for good this time and a week later got back together for good this time and there's no turning back. My sister Lori came out for a visit. Saw Peter Frampton in concert and took a trip to San Diego to check out Del Mar Racetrack.

August 2011. Gave up Linda Land and Mike and I moved into our awesome rental. I wake up every day in this room with a huge smile. (And go to bed each night with one, too. Giggity.)

Also that month: Connor came back to visit. Mike and I took the kids LEGOAND in San Diego and then Connor and I did the Zion and Bryce Canyon national parks.

September 2011. Headed back to Albany. Took in the Saratoga Racetrack with the family and was a "celebrity" judge in the Capital District" Last Comic Standing competition. Bastard Husband: A Love Story was mentioned in this article entitled "The Best Love Stories" in the freakin' WALL STREET JOURNAL!

All during the year: Finally seem to have licked my stage fright and can actually enjoy doing stand-up comedy!

Your life is your own personal creation; it's a reflection of the choices you make. I am thankful I had the good health to do everything I did this past year. God willing, age 54 will be even better!

A question for my readers who remember the Vietnam era

2011-10-05T04:50:00.000-07:00

I know I have a few readers over age 60--maybe you can shed some insight into this.

Last night I was having dinner with a girlfriend and we got to talking about the draft during the Vietnam war. I was born in 1957, so Vietnam was a little before my time, but I remember how young men would go to Canada or even cut off a finger to get out of going into the military.

So here's my question: Why didn't they just say they were gay?

It's taken me longer to think of a title for this post than to write it

2011-10-04T04:40:00.000-07:00

I had a nice birthday yesterday. In the morning I met with the recruiter who's working on my dream job (that went really well) and then I got in some pool time before it started to rain.

Rain? In Vegas? On my birthday??? Grrrrr. Then I went out to lunch with Mike, and in the evening had some quiet time at home. Love it.

Jeez, I really gotta learn Photoshop. Or maybe get a soft-focus Barbara Walters lens on my iPhone camera. Bright sunlight, why are you so cruel? No wonder why people say I'm better looking in person. (I swear to God, I really am.)

Anyway, I spent some time on Facebook yesterday, trying to acknowledge all the birthday wishes. Thank you, everyone! Along the way, I came across a couple of funny photos that friends had posted. I have to share:

"I say three Hail Marys whenever I drive by it..." is what my friend said about that.

Yep, there's actually a Clown Motel in Tonapah, Nevada. Imagine the nightmares you'd have in that place, huh?

Then another friend posted this one, with the caption, "Picture speaks 1,000 words."

Oh, man. That cracked me up!

Anyway, after a nice day of R&R, it's back to reality today. As you know, I've been busy as hell since early August, and now I finally have some time to catch up on things. And to exercise. Yeah, I remember that...

Have a great day!

Fifty-four today!

2011-10-03T01:03:00.000-07:00

I love my birthday! I'm so very grateful to have lived another year on this planet. And to be in love, have a wonderful family, enjoy good health, have an awesome place to live, and not have to get up and go to work today... well, I'm one lucky girl.

A few months ago my Quirky Lesbian Aunt Joyce sent me this picture of me with my parents when I was a baby. Isn't it freaky to think we all started out like little babies like this???

We lived in Texas, where I was born. (My father was in the army.) My mother must have sent this picture to my grandmother in Albany. Look what she wrote on the back of it.

Oh, thank you so much, Mom! (But in real life, thanks for everything.)

New year, new laptop... fingers crossed for a new job

2011-10-01T16:18:00.000-07:00

This is my first post written from my new laptop--an early birthday present from Mike. So nice. Monday is my birthday, so next week you can expect a "Year in Review" post. I'd say it's been quite a year, but aren't they all?

As always, I'm psyched about starting another year, and there are lots of changes ahead. Yesterday was my last day at my awesome telecommuting job. In a way, I hate that it's over; I absolutely love working at home, but who knows--hopefully I'll be going on to bigger and better. I have an amazing prospect on the radar screen; based on what the recruiter has told me, it sounds like my dream job.
Of course, my real dream job would be no job at all--I'd love to just write all day, do some volunteer work, and pursue my creative endeavors--but as day jobs go, this one seems perfect. I don't want to say too much for fear of jinxing myself, but I will tell you it involves travelling to resorts worldwide (!) and I'd be reporting to someone on another continent. HELL, yeah! They've already checked my references and things are looking good.

I won't be interviewing with the hiring manager until his next trip to Vegas, so it will be a couple of weeks until I know anything for sure. In the meantime, fingers crossed but I have to keep sending out resumes until I get an offer; there's no bird in hand. (A thought I find positively repulsive. Whoever came up with that?) At any rate, I'm going to enjoy the time off. It's still warm enough to relax poolside, which is how I intend to spend a good part of my birthday. How lucky I am!

Hey, my age is the same as my height this year (5-4). If only my weight (139) matched my IQ. Or even my bowling average.

Anyway, it's also kind of significant that I got a new laptop right now. I've had my old one since about 2004, which in laptop years is ancient. B.H. bought it for me so I could write my book--oh, the works of genius that have come from that thing! Seriously, I do have a little emotional attachment to it, but it was getting slow as hell and it's time to move on. After all, a new year is beginning; it's a good time for change.

One thing I noticed, though--my blog looks weird on this. My blogging friend Donna at Mystical Journeys told me a while ago that it looks weird on her computer, but I couldn't figure out why. It looked fine on my old laptop, my work laptop, and Mike's computer. I know what she means--the sidebars are so dark you can hardly read the text--and I'm not sure how to fix it. I have a feeling it may be fine on older machines. Do I look weird to you? (My blog, I mean.) Any ideas what I can do about it?

Anyway, life is good and I'm enjoying every minute. No matter what happens with my cool job prospect, it's all perfect. Everything's perfect. Except I still hate my hair.

Hope you're having a great weekend!

Even MORE great advice from me!

2011-09-29T00:54:00.000-07:00

I've really been enjoying doing comedy lately. Hello, it's about time--it's been almost eight years since I first took the stage at Boomers and after all, hobbies are meant to be enjoyed, no?

Sunday night I did a set at the open mic at Big Al's Comedy Club in the Orleans, which was a blast. My BFF Julie of 47 and Starting Over fame was there with her boyfriend, Michael, who's also a comic and who also performed, and another couple who are Julie's good friends and are now mine as well. Julie taped my set--I'll have to see if I can post that. I know--promises, promises.

Big Al's is a great room and John Barnes, who runs the stage, does a fantastic job keeping the comics moving. If you're ever visiting, or are just looking for something to do on a Sunday night, check out Big Al's. The show starts promptly at 9:00 and it's free. Of course, open mics are always a crap shoot since they're open to all levels of performers, but that just adds to the fun.

Then Tuesday night I did the Las Vegas Comedy Show in my buddy Joe Lowers' showroom at Alexis Park. It was the first time I performed there since I had my show last year and I swear, I don't think I'll ever get used to the stage lighting in that room--so bright! I can't see a goddamn thing and it it's like Helen Keller comedy, but the room is awesome. A couple of my friends from the old Boomers days were hanging out backstage and we remarked about how long it's been since we all met. Eight years--Jesus H. As my grandmother used to say, where does the time go?

At one point as we were shooting the shit, I was overcome with a feeling so warm I almost feel like a sap telling you about it. But it's true. I love all my comic friends; they're "my people." If you read Bastard Husband, you know how much they meant to me when I first came to Vegas and hardly knew anyone in town. As I wrote in my book, they never made me feel like an old bat; they've always been very warm and kind to me, and that still holds true for the young kids I'm meeting now. I recently got a Facebook friend request from a kid born in 1990!

So things have never been better in the comedy area. I'm having fun with it, now that I'm no longer blotching up with stage fright. I don't think I'll ever lick it entirely, but as Dale Carnegie says, a certain amount of stage fright is useful.

"It is nature's way of preparing us to meet unusual challenges in our environment. So, when you notice your pulse beating faster and your respiration speeding up, don't become alarmed. Your body, ever alert to external stimuli, is getting ready to go into action. If these physiological preparations are held within limits, you will be capable of thinking faster, talking more fluently, and generally speaking with more intensity than under normal circumstances."

He goes on to say that many professional speakers never completely lose stage fright.

"It is always present just before they speak, and it may persist through the first few sentences of their talk. This is the price these men and women pay for being race horses and not like draft horses."

Who wants to be a draft horse, huh?

I love the Dale Carnegie stuff. You have to read through a lot of anecdotal material to get to his point sometimes, but the takeaways are worth it. Like when he encourages you to talk as confidently as if every person in the audience owes you money and they have assembled there to beg you for an extension of credit. Cool stuff.

I share my experiences doing comedy in case one of you, my beloved readers, is allowing fear to prevent you from doing something you really, really want to do. Whether you're afraid to go out on the town by yourself, talk to a stranger in line at the grocery store, give a presentation at work, post an profile on an online dating site, or pursue a hobby as crazy as stand-up comedy... I have two simple words of advice: "Fuck fear."

Just like Dale Carnegie's books, this blog is full of tons of anecdotal crap. So I'll save you the trouble of sifting through the more than 600 posts in the past three years and I'll tell you the three most important takeaways. If you learn nothing else from my so-called life, let it be this:

Stand up straight.
Smile.
Fuck fear.

Got it?

Calling all Lindas!

2011-09-27T01:33:00.000-07:00

The other day I was at the checkout at Ross (quelle surprise) and noticed the cashier's name tag.

"Linda. Great name!" I said, being the idiot that I am. She gave me a sheepish look and said something like, "Yeah, there's no hiding our age, huh?"

No, there isn't. I'm gonna guess that about 99% of women named Linda were born between 1943 and 1963, probably because of the song "Linda" that came out in 1946. According to this website, the song was written by Jack Lawrence for the 5-year-old daughter of his lawyer, Lee Eastman. Linda Eastman grew up to marry Paul McCartney, who wrote another song, "The Lovely Linda," for her. Imagine having two songs written and recorded for you?

Linda was an extremely popular name in 1957; I was one of four Lindas in my class in elementary school. There was Linda Smitas, Linda Smith, Linda Goldstein, and me (Linda Haber). I always loved being a Linda; seriously, I felt I hit the jackpot when it came to getting a cool name.

For as loony as my parents were--my Type A father having a friggin' heart attack any time someone spilled the gravy at dinner and my Jeopardy-addicted agoraphobic mother--they sure pulled through when it came to naming me.   It was a close call, though. When I was little, my mother told me I was almost named Deirdre, and I remember thinking, "What the hell kind of name is that?"

These days, as the cashier in Ross reminded me, the name is pretty dated. I've come across only one Linda below the age of 30--a gothic-looking cashier in Pier I Imports who was named after Linda Ronstadt and who clearly didn't share my enthusiasm for her parents' taste. My own daughter, in her teen years, used to practically howl over my name because she thought it sounded so old fashioned, just as I giggled at my paternal grandmother's name: Mabel.

"See me in a couple of decades, Courtney," I'd tell my little clone, because Courtney is just the Linda of a later era.

I know a Linda who goes by "Lindy" at the advice of someone who told her a younger-sounding name would give her a professional advantage. Whatever. Dated or not, I love being a Linda. I've always felt like a Linda and I think I even look like a Linda. And who knows? Maybe someday my granddaughter will name her baby after her granny, and Linda will become hip again.

You know, like Hazel.

How about you?  Do you like your name? Does it fit you? Did you ever wish you were named something else?

P.S. I don't have a middle name; none of the girls in my family do. "Linda Lou" is a nickname my friend Chief gave me at a beer party when I was in my 20s. When I started doing comedy, I didn't want to perform under my real last name because I wasn't sure if I was going to keep B.H's name or not after our divorce. So I decided to perform as Linda Lou, and then used that as a pen name when I starting writing.

Between us, "Linda Lou" sounds like I'm a goddamn hillbilly, instead of a multi-generation Yankee, but at this point there's no turning back. But looking forward... who knows.

The never-ending quest for balance (and a rewarding work life)

2011-09-25T14:15:00.000-07:00

First, I know--it's Sunday and I'm supposed to post on Saturday. I really, really have tried to maintain a regular posting schedule. It's been getting harder, though.

Last night I had dinner with a couple of my blogging buddies and their partners who are in town for the weekend--my BFF Julie from 47 and Starting Over and former Travel Girl  blogger, Dar. I know these girls only from the bloggy world; we met almost two and a half years ago when--sight unseen--they booked trips to stay with me in Las Vegas. Yep, the three of us were complete strangers until that one Friday night when we converged in the airport.

As some of you know, Julie's posts have been getting fewer and farther between in recent months, and I believe Dar completely gave up her blog over a year ago. Why? They're happy. And they're both in relationships; they weren't when they started blogging.

Relationship take up a good chunk of time. When Mike and I broke up last spring, I couldn't believe how much more time I had to myself. I started putting together content for a book I was thinking of calling, How to Survive Your Day Job (Until You Can Quit Your Day Job). I also started to put together ideas for another book, Cars I Have Loved, Men I Have Wrecked. For me, there's nothing like personal angst and time to myself to get the creative juices flowing. Hell, I wrote Bastard Husband during the most miserable part of my life.

I'd rather be happy. Though I certainly am glad that I was able to write and publish that book. Seeing it mentioned in the Wall Street Journal last week was a thrill, that's for sure.

Anyway, I've been thinking of cutting back and posting twice a week instead of three times. I'm not going to, though. I'm going to maintain the Tuesday-Thursday-Saturday schedule that I've had for the past three years as closely as I can. I might be late now and then--or even miss a post entirely, as I did the day after Labor Day--but when that happens, please understand that instead of writing about life, I'm having fun living it.

That said, I do love to create. And I especially love to have created.  Finding the balance to create everything I want to create and still be able to live a rewarding personal life is key. And oh, yeah--I still have to work a day job, too.  Long sigh...

As I'm sending out resumes and interviewing, it's becoming crystal clear that I'm continuing to bark up some wrong trees. I keep applying for permanent tech writing jobs when the reality is, the thought of sitting in a poorly lit cubicle all day writing stuff that I truly do not give a shit about makes me want to cry. I like working as a contractor because that way it's only temporary and there's an end in sight, but why would I deliberately pursue a permanent position doing something I clearly don't want to do? That's just crazy.

Since I got out of grad school in 1991, my career has had a dual focus in both technical writing and corporate training. For the past five years I've been writing, writing, writing, and I am bloody sick of it. I so need to get back into training. I realize that on two interviews recently, I was practically flatlining as I spoke about my tech writing experience, and then bubbled with enthusiasm when they asked about my training background. HELLLLOOOOO.

Of course, I'm applying for training jobs as well, but I'm not seeing as many out there. So this is where faith comes in. I need to have faith that somewhere there's a company that would LOVE to have me in their training department or as a training consultant. I can say with 100 percent certainty that I am a kick-ass trainer. I always have received outstanding evaluations and, unlike some trainers who are more into "info-tainment," I make sure that participants actually learn.   It's so rewarding to show someone how to use new software or apply new sales techniques; I love to see how much more confident they are, how much better they feel about doing their jobs.

That's it. I need to focus my energies toward something I do want, not something I really don't. You know, I'm so brilliant at giving advice, I need to listen to myself sometimes. And to you. Any thoughts?

Am I getting prudish on you?

2011-09-22T02:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'd love to know your opinion. This is a real live Halloween costume for kids that's in the stores like Target and K-Mart right now.

Personally, I think this is creepy, Jon-Benet-ish. "Sweet li'l treat" for whom??? I asked Mike what the hell this costume is supposed to be anyway, and he said, "I don't know. A sexy witch?"

The costumed pictured is a size Small, which means it's intended to fit a 5-year-old. Since when is a sexy ANYTHING an appropriate costume for a child? The kid modeling it looks like a junior cocktail waitress; I can just picture this mini-Mae West sashaying through the race and sports book at Green Valley Ranch or flirting with the guys at the poker table. Seriously, I'm surprised it doesn't come with a padded underwire, garter belt and a theater length cigarette holder.

Kids are already bombarded with sex in the media, and especially here in Las Vegas. If you drive at all near the Strip, you'll see tons of cleavaged billboards and if you're really lucky, you'll pull up behind a taxi with a row of thonged asses staring back at you. Lovely.

So why encourage this sort of dress-up in young, make that very young girls? Am I turning prudish or just getting old? What do you think about this?

BIG news!

2011-09-21T00:20:00.000-07:00

Holy crap, Bastard Husband: A Love Story was mentioned in this article entitled "The Best Love Stories" in the freakin' WALL STREET JOURNAL! I just found out about it yesterday--thank you, Google alerts--and nearly plotzed when I read it. Funny--I had just written a post about love.

My little self-published book in the freakin' Wall Street Journal, in the same paragraph as The Great Gatsby and Romeo and Juliet! I have no idea how that happened, but man, it's so cool that it did.

Forgive me for saying once again that I'm really proud of my book. If you're a regular reader of my blog, I just know you would love it.

Man. When you least expect it.

Why wouldn't you put as much effort into finding love as you would to find a job?

2011-09-20T08:48:00.000-07:00

I have no idea how Chaz Bono did or how funny Charlie Sheen’s roast was last night—as of this writing, I haven’t even looked to see if my Facebook friends have weighed in. I was hanging out at the Alexis Park showroom, taking in the opening night of the World Series of Comedy, which is going on all week. My buddy Joe Lowers is the mastermind behind this event, so I’ll be helping him out as well as attending some comedy seminars. There’s no end to my busy-ness, and I know I have to start saying no to some things, but I definitely want in on this. As Warren Zevon said, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

Anyway, today I wanted to talk about love. Yes, love, people! Like me, one of my best girlfriends is crazy in love, and no matter how our conversation starts, inevitably we end up gushing about how great it is to be in a relationship and how—despite what 70s-era feminism would have us believe—life is so, so much better when you’re sharing it with someone who is nothing short of amazing.

I’ve said recently that if you wake up in the morning, can see your image in the mirror and can take a proper piss and shit, then already it’s a good day and you have nothing to complain about. There are a couple of other essential blocks of life that my BFF and I feel should be in place as well. One is having a source of income that’s adequate for an enjoyable lifestyle. The other is having a loving partner.

They’re both important, but at the end of life, I can tell you I’m not going to look back and think, “Oh man, I created some beautiful technical documentation.” An income feeds your stomach; a loving partner feeds your soul. Yet we’re conditioned to believe that a loving partner is a “nice to have” rather than a component as equally essential.

If you didn’t have a source of income, you’d work like hell to find a way to get some money coming in, right? You’d be scrutinizing Indeed.com, contacting everyone in your network to uncover leads, and sending out resumes with the hope that you’ll find the perfect match for your skills and marketable talents.

But we’re not as proactive when it comes to finding the perfect match for our love lives; we kind of just wait for someone to come our way. Can you imagine if you took that approach to your job search? “I’ll just wait around. Surely the perfect job opportunity will present itself to me by sheer chance.” You’d freakin’ starve! And so a lot of people are starving in the intimacy department because they’re simply not making the effort to find someone. That’s sad.

If you want to find a partner, you have to put yourself out there. Browse through Meetup.com and look for a group of like-minded folks. Post a sincere profile on an online dating site—make it funny and I guarantee you’ll get attention. (I could start a cottage industry offering that as a service.) Get the hell out of the house, and don’t be afraid to do something you enjoy by yourself. Go to the movies or a comedy club. Check out the events at your local library. Go out and support live music or a poetry reading at your neighborhood coffee shop. Just get yourself in circulation.

As you know, I’m conducting a job search now. Every single day I do something to achieve my goal of finding a rewarding position. Similarly, if you’re looking for love, you, too, should take action every single day.

If finding a love interest is important to you, then put some energy behind that goal. Make it a priority. Why wouldn’t you?

What I have to say about Chaz Bono and Charlie Sheen (like who cares, but here it is anyway)

2011-09-17T17:15:00.000-07:00

So who's watching Dancing with the Stars Monday night?

I have to confess I've never actually sat through an entire show. I have watched bits and pieces of it, though, and have viewed the YouTube clip of Cloris Leachman doing a split about a million times. Now there's a role model for me! Nonetheless, if ever a program begged for a Tivo or DVR, allowing you to fast forward through the mindless boring shit, DWTS is second only to the Academy Awards.

One of my many delusions of grandeur--right up there with with lying in state when I die--is to hit it big enough to be on DWTS. I desperately need a good reason to get back in shape, and if dancing on national TV with millions of people worldwide waiting for me to slip and crack my head open isn't reason enough, then I don't know what is.

Anyway, I'm especially intrigued by this season's lineup. What an absolutely brilliant move for them to cast Chaz Bono, huh? Oh, the controversy! Shield your children's precious eyes! Of course, the violence in those friggin' Xbox games is perfectly okay and there's not a 10-year-old on earth who doesn't sneak a glimpse at Family Guy episodes. But we can't expose our children to a dude who used to be a chick--that just crosses the line, right?

Oh, for Christsake.

Let me tell you about my friend Jeremy. When I met him a couple of years ago, he was Jen. Yeah, that's right. Like Chaz Bono and every other person who's undergone gender reassignment, from day one Jeremy never felt his physical body matched his gender identity. Believe me, people, we have no idea what a living hell that type of life would be nor can we grasp the courage required to actually take the steps to right nature's wrong.

God knows Jeremy has a story to tell and I'll be meeting with him in the next couple of weeks to give him some direction on crafting a memoir. He said there's actually a lot of funny things that have happened along the path of his transition and if the one anecdote he shared with me is any indication, he could write a hell of a book. I'm going to see if I can twist his arm into doing a guest post here soon--he's a great guy and I think you'll love him.

So Monday will be a big night on TV. In addition to the DWTS premier, we have the Charlie Sheen roast on Comedy Central. Oh, man, those roasts are hilarious in a guilty pleasure kind of way, don't you think? I'm looking forward to that one.

Did you happen to see Charlie Sheen on Jay Leno the other night? I almost hate to admit it, but there's a part of him I find quite endearing; I have a weakness for those who confront their fuck-ups with full-frontal honesty. And I cracked up when Jay asked if he was dating and Charlie replied with, "Well, Jay, I don't think you'd call what I do dating."

I wouldn't wish the problem of gender confliction on my worst enemy and I feel the same way about addiction. (Hello--did you read my book?) In very different ways, I want both Chaz and Charlie to win.

Funny story from last night

2011-09-16T12:24:00.000-07:00

If you're my Facebook friend you've already seen this, but I want to share it here as well so everyone gets to see what a total a-hole I am.

Last night at the G-Spot Comedy Show, my friend Lynn and I were not just the only white comics on the bill, but the only white people in whole the room. Lynn was the first comic up and she killed until she made a reference to The Bible, when everyone got silent. Gaynelle, the host of the show, jokingly called out, "Lynn, these are all black folk here--you can't be messing with The Bible!" Everyone had a laugh and Lynn continued to deliver a hilarious set.

I was up next. I took the stage and deadpanned, "Wow, I've never performed for a room full of black people. Um, let's see... OK," and then continued with, "Jesus, Malcolm X, and Sammy Davis, Jr. walk into a bar..."

Fortunately, everyone cracked up. Good thing, or I'd be posting this from my hospital room.

Can you be your "true" self at work or are you keeping up appearances?

2011-09-15T13:00:00.000-07:00

Hey, you know that blogger extraordinaire Hurricane Mikey is posting again, and on his original site, right? One of the reasons Mikey took a hiatus was because he was conducting a job search and wanted to shield his personal life from prospective employers. Fortunately, as he’s recently reported, his current employer “doesn’t give a rat’s ass” about what he does outside of work.

As it should be.

Recently I told you that the contract on my job will be over at the end of the month. Weh. It’s been a wonderful gig, especially the telecommuting part. And now that I’m on the prowl myself, I’ve been thinking about Mikey and what employers need—and don’t need—to know about you.

I’ve never been big on editing out parts of myself in order to comply with corporate expectations; I’ve learned that it’s better for employers to know who you really are right from the beginning. Years ago, back when I was still following the rules, I got hired for a position no doubt because I performed so beautifully during an interview. And it really was a performance; I totally convinced them that I was a straight and narrow, by-the-book professional.

Of course, I couldn’t keep that boring persona up for too long and my true, fun, personality seeped through. I did a great job as far as my work went, but joked around with my staff a lot. They loved me. Yep, everybody under me loved me, but those above me on the food chain couldn’t stomach me at all. I wasn’t a fit for their culture; I was nothing like what they thought they were getting. That turned out to be the worst place I ever worked, just a miserable experience.

Ever since, when presenting myself to prospective employers or consulting firms, I’ve been my true crazy self. They can take me or leave me, and fortunately, I seem to be what they’re looking for. But I do have a very strong resume and an impressive portfolio of work. That’s the key—the more skilled you are, the more you can get away with being your authentic self on the job. If you’re really, really good, you don’t have to spend so much energy creating a professional persona. And you can direct all that energy toward doing a good job, which, after all, is why you're there in the first place.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not too relaxed. It's not like I throw the F word around on interviews… or at all in the workplace. Well, I try not to.

This is funny. A few years ago, I had just started a new job—I was there maybe three weeks. About twelve people from my department were sitting around the conference table; each person had to give a brief report on what they’d been doing the past week. When it came to be my turn, I excitedly told my coworkers—and boss—of the progress I’d make on a task that was particularly challenging. I was feeling great about it all and at the end gushed, “And this a huge fuckin’ project!”

Immediately, I realized what I’d said and covered my mouth with a big “Oops!” but it was too late. Everyone in the room cracked up. For the rest of that day, people were high-fiving me and saying things like, “That was the greatest moment of my worklife!” and told me how much they liked me and wanted to work on projects with me. I was like a folk hero. Even my boss thought it was an awesome slip. (He was a nut himself, believe me.)

Anyway, in the words of Popeye, “I am what I am.” For some reason, it seems to be working.

How about you? Can you be your true self at work? On a scale of 1 to 10, how surprised would your coworkers be to know the “real” you?

Once again, back to (Vegas) reality

2011-09-13T06:44:00.000-07:00

Aaah, I'm back in Las Vegas!

I had a wonderful time in Albany, that's for sure, but I'm super happy to be home again. The past 6 weeks have been insane, so I'm looking forward to some sense of normalcy. If there is such a thing in Las Vegas.

My flight yesterday was delayed 4 hours, which was no problem for me; I enjoyed the extra time hanging out at my sister Lori's house, which is only about 20 minutes from the airport. Nonetheless, for my "inconvenience," Southwest Airlines gave every passenger a $100 voucher, which I can always use.

IMHO, there's no airline like Southwest. I could be wrong (imagine?), but I think it's the only one that doesn't charge for baggage, and God knows I have plenty of that. Like every airline, they do have weight limits, which I witnessed first-hand back in April when I tried to check a bag a mere 2 pounds over. They were going to charge me an extra 50 bucks, I think, which pissed me off and I even pulled the old, "Hey, look at that big fat guy--he weighs at least 100 pounds more than me. Shouldn't I be allowed an extra couple of pounds?"

That didn't go over, though, and I had to rearrange my crap and stuff some more into my carry on. But I still think there's some merit to my logic regarding total weight, taking personal body weight into consideration.

Whatever. I still love Southwest. Yesterday near the gate a male agent walked by me and said, "I like your shoes," and I gushed back, "Why, thaaaank kewe!" and I thought, now there's a smart man because those are the magic words for getting points with women (there's a lesson there, guys), but too bad for him, I already have a boyfriend.

Oh, man, is it ever good to see Mike again. Our relationship stock is at an all-time high these days. I never thought of relationships in that way until I just wrote that, but everything kind of has a stock value and it's something we should always be on top of, don't you think? Like people check the market every day to see how their stocks are doing, but we never think to examine the Dow of our lives.

I'm on to something here. You have your relationship stock, your job/career stock, your spiritual stock, your family stock, your social stock, your recreation stock... and then every day you should monitor it. If you see the stock start to go down in one area, that means you'd better intervene; you need to do something to cause the stock to rise again. Like if your relationship stock is going down, maybe you need to say something like, "I like your shoes."

Do I have it all figured out or what?

I have a lot more to tell you. Last Sunday night I was a judge at the Capital Region's "Last Comic Standing" competition and that was a freakin' blast. I'll save that for Thursday, though.

For now I'll leave you with a picture of my nephew Cameron, who turns 18 today. (He's Lori and Russ's son.) Not to sound like an old person, but his kid's a fine young man. Cam joined his local volunteer fire department the day he turned 15 and has undergone all kinds of first response training. Now he's even presenting trainings himself. I took this photo at his firehouse after their 9-11 memorial service.

Good looking kid, eh? I'm very proud of my nephew, serving the community as he does. Happy Birthday, Cam!

My message for today

2011-09-11T06:32:00.001-07:00

"Love every minute."

Stage fright, you're my bitch

2011-09-10T05:57:00.000-07:00

As I've mentioned before, my stage fright is pretty much under control and I've finally reached the point where I actually have fun doing stand-up. Yay--after all, hobbies are meant to be enjoyed, right?

I had a ball Thursday night at the open mic at Savannah's in downtown Albany. It was almost going to suck--I got there just a few minutes after the sign-up time and all the slots were already filled. Fortunately, Russ, the guy running the stage, recognized me from other stages in town and let me close the show. If I bumped any other comics, thank you for giving up your time.

A ton of people came to see me, so it's good that I was able to perform. But as I was standing there watching the other comics, a bit of my old pal stage fright resurfaced. At one point during the show, Russ said something like, "We have a very special guest performing" and I was like, yikes, don't build me up too much--I don't want to disappoint everybody.

But the root cause of my anxiety was the fact that there were so many people I know in the audience. My son, my first ex and a bunch of his friends, my roommate from college and some other Plattsburgh State friends, my sister Lori's biker buddies... It's much easier to perform to a room full of strangers than people you actually know, especially those who've known you for years. And especially because--I've told you this before--so many people, when they learn I've been doing stand-up, say, "Gee, I never remember you as being that funny." It's one thing to move to the other side of the country and reinvent yourself, but quite another to present the "new you" in a place you lived for the first 43 years of your life.

The nature of performing--no matter what kind of performing you do--is that sometimes you're just gonna have an off night. You can't hit it out of the park every time at bat, you just can't. With 18 people in the audience who came explicitly to see me, I wanted to do well; that's why the stage fright resurfaced. But as I stood in the back of the room waiting for my turn to go up, I silently chanted my new mantra, "Stage fright, you're my bitch."

I hit it out of the park. Russ was kind enough to give me a great intro and I flew with it from there. Coming off stage to everyone's accolades, especially from the folks I didn't know, was a real high. I sold a bunch of books, too, which was great. It turned out to be a really fun night and I was glad to be the impetus for a gathering of so many people, some of whom hadn't seen each other in years.

Lori's biker friend Mick and me

The lesson here is that you just have to plow through the fear, people. It's taken me long enough to realize that, and it's much more easily said than done, but it's true. Make fear your bitch.

This is funny. You know how I telecommute from Las Vegas, but work in the office when I'm back in Albany? Well, Thursday afternoon I was reviewing my set list in my cubicle and then after work met my friends for a drink. I was a bit unnerved when I arrived at the pub because I was afraid I'd lost my set list somewhere in the office. I thought I forgot it on my desk, but when I went back for it, it was gone. I imagined someone coming across a crumpled piece of paper with a list that reads

1. Breasts
2. Fart shirt
3. Dating
4. Periods
5. Blow jobs

... as well as the supporting details. We all had a great laugh about it--hell, my contract is over at the end of the month anyway--but fortunately, I did, in fact, put the list in a separate compartment in my pocketbook. (As you can see, my humor is extremely highbrow.)

Anyway, I have just two nights left in Albany and then I fly back to Vegas on Monday. It's been a great trip and yesterday the sun finally came out, so that was nice, too. Hope you're all enjoying your weekend!

Crazy, insane, cuckoo... but having a great time

2011-09-08T02:11:00.000-07:00

Can you believe I missed Tuesday's post? I was sitting in the office, totally thinking it was Monday... Yikes, I'm losing it. I've been crazy busy since the end of July when my sister Lori came for a visit. The week after she left we started moving--which was a production and a half--and before we got the last picture hung, Connor came to visit and now here I am in Albany until next Monday. Tonight I'm doing a set at the open mic at Savannah's, which will be fun.

So it's all good. I'm not complaining; I just need some downtime. It's the natural ebb and flow of the universe. I'm just ready for a little ebb time.

Anyway, I'm having great fun here in Albany. Of course, I haven't seen the freakin' sun since I've been here. Last April it rained for 12 straight days while I was here and then the sun came out as I was boarding the plane. Lovely.

But who cares about the stinkin' weather? Lori had a family gathering at her house on Sunday and I was so, so happy to see everyone. How about this beautiful baby? Hazel is getting so big!

She has the face of an angel, if I do say so myself. And that hair! Orange ringlets and bright blue eyes--what a combo. And she's still the most. serious. baby. ever.

Here's my beautiful Courtney. She and her three friends are doing their 50-mile walk for MS this weekend, and she asked me to say thanks again to those of you who contributed to the cause. And I'll say thank you again, too.

Court's been training for the walk, and man, she looks fantastic. She was slender to begin with, but all that walking is sure paying off. I can't wait to get back to "reality" and get in the walking groove again. Mike and I were doing so well, and then it all hits the fan...

On Monday a bunch of us went up to the track at Saratoga.

With the rain, a few of the longshots came in, but no big winners in this bunch. (Well, we're winners, just not when it comes to horse racing.)

Mom couldn't get over how tall Connor is getting. He's towering over her! (Lori's bending over a little, but he'll be catching up to her soon.)

So I've been having a great time, but busy, busy, busy. Plus, I'm going into the office while I'm here. I've been so spoiled by being able to work at home, but it's nice to see my work buds. This gig is up for me at the end of the month, so that's one more thing I've been doing--conducting a job search. I've already had a couple of good bites on some resumes I've sent out, and despite the lousy economy--and the even more dismal Las Vegas economy--I have a feeling I'll land something fairly soon. Anybody want to hire a kick-ass corporate trainer/technical writer? Oh, forget it... you guys know me too well.

Thanks to everyone for your patience and for continuing to read my crap. I'll be back to my regular self, well, probably never.

OMG!

2011-09-06T11:03:00.000-07:00

With the holiday, I totally forgot today is Tuesday. I'll post later!

Quick trip to Zion and Bryce

2011-09-03T06:41:00.000-07:00

Earlier this week, my boy Connor and I took a quick little trip up to Utah to check out some national parks. If you've read my book, or even the excerpt "A Glimpse of Life in Utah," you know that BH and I briefly lived in Cedar City--an experience that I, um, don't ever need to have again. But Utah is a beautiful state and the one good thing about living there was that the hiking was incredible. How lucky we were to have two national parks within just a short distance.

Anyway, Mike's kids started school last Monday, so I took a couple of days off from work for some Granny-Connor bonding time and thought, hey, let's do a road trip to Zion and Byrce Canyon.

Usually when I visit Zion, I stay at the Desert Pearl Inn, which I wholeheartedly recommend. This time, though, their rates were a little more pricey than what I felt like spending ($142/night) so I thought, what the hell, let's try a new place. The Majestic View Lodge caught my eye online, and for $129 we got two beds and a balcony with a view.

The decor was rustic and actually looked like the pictures they posted online.

I can recommend this lodge as well. It was spotless and they double-sheet the beds, which is always a major plus in my opinion. (If hotels did that more often and advertised it on their marquee, they'd always get my business, and God knows I do sleep around.)

The only thing a little on the different side was the toilet. This video doesn't do it justice.

Connor warned me about the loud flush, and I totally thought he was exaggerating. But then when I flushed it myself, it scared the crap out of me, even after having been warned. But that's no big deal, and the fact that they have a brew pub on site more than makes up for it, if you know what I mean.

Speaking of scaring the crap out of us, not too long after we exited the tunnel in Zion National Park, something pummelled our car. You know how in a split second a million thoughts go through your head? Well I thought, oh great, now I have to buy a new windshield. Connor and I thought we got hit by a giant glob of bird shit. I immediately put on the windshield wipers and it was gone in one swipe. We couldn't believe how much noise it made! But upon closer inspection, it looks like the hood of my car was hit by a flying red rock, which left a good sized dent. I don't know what the hell hit my windshield--maybe a piece of the rock? At any rate, it's a good thing I wasn't going a nanosecond faster or it would have hit the windshield right where Connor was sitting. Yikes.

Here's a pic of Connor just before all the drama.

Zion is beautiful, though. Since we were pressed for time, we decided to just do a drive-through and then headed up to Bryce, where we did a gorgeous hike on the Navajo Loop.

Isn't my boy getting big? I'd say he's getting so old looking, but if he ever told me that, I'd kick his ass.

Bryce is positively stunning. If you've never been, you simply must. You must!

We took the route home through Cedar City and I showed Connor the house where BH and I used to live. Connor doesn't remember BH, but he had a lot of questions. I just said, "He was a character, Connor. He was a character."

Our old 'hood. I could sit on my couch and look out at the red rocks.

Cedar City is a beautiful little town, but man, there's a weird energy there that creeps me out.

Connor's an excellent traveler and I love every minute I spend with that kid. We had a ball together driving along listening to Weird Al's parodies (insert weak but loving smile) and watching Family Guy episodes on my iPhone. I've talked before about the importance of travel and how a trip not only gives you lasting memories, but a wonderful opportunity to bond. Connor is always going to remember this little getaway, as well as our trip with Mike and the kids last weekend to California. Travel with your kids, people, even if you don't think you can afford it. There are cheap ways to do it, and it's one of the few things that's perfectly okay to charge if you have to as long as you don't go crazy. Just my opinion.

This afternoon my boy and I are taking off together again. This time we're flying to Albany, where I'll be until September 12 when I come back to Vegas. I haven't been back since baby Hazel's birthday last April and I can't wait to get my hands on her. My mother is in Albany now, too, so we'll have a nice little family reunion.

Whatever you have going on this long weekend, enjoy!

An aging nymph goes to LEGOLAND, or as David Byrne would say, "This is not my beautiful life!"

2011-09-01T11:58:00.000-07:00

I know what you're thinking. Remember when Linda was a hip swinging single writing about her adventures making the scene in Las Vegas?

Yep, it's come to this, people. LEGOLAND. Mike has long been threatening a trip to Disneyland, but I said no freakin' way. I can't stand that Disney shit and besides, I hear the place is full of birds. But I softened on LEGOLAND and so last Friday afternoon we packed up and began our journey toward San Diego with his two kids and my grandson in the back seat. Connor's iPad kept the boys entertained the whole way while the little one watched Netflix on my iPhone. All were wearing ear buds--thank you, sweet baby Jesus. Anticipating the 5-hour trip, all I could think of was a comic friend's line that he asks a girl on a first date: "Does this smell like chloroform?"

Thankfully, the drive was relatively quick and painless. We found our hotel no problem and it was a gem; we got a two-bedroom suite at the Marriott Townplace Suites in Vista. Marriotts are always of consistently high quality. This one offered a continental breakfast and a complimentary shuttle to the park, so it worked out really well. I highly recommend.

LEGOLAND is in Carlsbad, CA, and we woke up to some perfect southern California weather. But during the shuttle ride my sunny mood darkened when I realized, This place is gonna be full of kids. You'd think I might have put that together beforehand, huh? Of course I love the children in my immediate circle, but how many times do I have to tell you I have the patience of John McEnroe in five o'clock traffic? Not exactly a kid person.

We walked through the aquarium when we first arrived at LEGOLAND. Overall it was pretty uneventful. Our first stop once we got into the actual LEGOLAND park was Miniland USA, which I actually dug. There were all these reproductions of areas of the U.S., all constructed with LEGO bricks. Like my reader Jazzy Cazy, I am fascinated by miniature replicas.

I posted a few of Las Vegas earlier this week Check out this one of the Venetian.

In addition to the New York, New York casino in Las Vegas, they also built a mini Manhattan.

Here we are in New England.

I absolutely loved LEGO New Orleans. Check out this Mardi Gras parade!

How freakin' cool is that? I took a million pictures of these little places.

Unfortunately, the most interesting part was over in the first half hour and I spent most of the next 7 hours waiting for Mike and the kids to go on rides.

There was a 45-minute wait for some of those rides, which gave me plenty of time to think. At one point, I was sitting next to a row of about seven empty baby strollers parked against a wall and thought, man, I remember when I used to hang out in places with a row of Harley Davidsons parked outside. Wasn't it just last month that I was dancing on the bar at Hogs and Heifers? Has it really come to this?

The people watching was interesting. As the kids romped in the water, Mike and I observed the families that walked by. Almost without fail, the mother led the way, pushing a stroller with another kid at her side as the dad dutifully followed along a few paces behind, wistfully remembering the days when he'd spend a weekend afternoon watching the game and drinking beer with the guys. Back when he still had some testosterone flowing through him.

Our kids had a ball, though. There's plenty to keep them busy. Here's Connor climbing a rock wall.

He's gotten so big since I last saw him in April. And I gotta say--the only thing worse than having a kid screech, "GRAAAANNNNNY!" in a crowd of people is hearing that from a really tall kid whose voice is changing. (How many times do I have to tell you, it's "Aunt Linda" in public, sweetheart?)

LEGOLAND really is a beautiful park--it's very well maintained and there are hardly any birds. At one point while the gang was in line for a ride I ducked into a cafe and serendipitously asked the cashier where I could get a beer. I figured there had to be some kind of saloon somewhere, but alas, there is no alcohol in LEGOLAND. So if there was one place for improvement...

The next day we stopped at Carlsbad Beach before hitting the road back home. Again, it was a gorgeous day.

The kids were equally awesome on the drive home. It's great that they all get along so well.

So I survived LEGOLAND and 10 hours of driving with three kids. I'm as surprised as you are. Mike still wants me to go to Disneyland, but I said there's no freakin' way. I'll make the arrangements and do all the navigation, but I'll be at the hotel poolside with a cocktail while they visit Mickey and his friends. Yep, that's where you'll find me.

Hurricane Irene devastates the Albany area

2011-08-30T08:02:00.000-07:00

But first, that’s right, folks. We were at LEGOLAND in Carlsbad, California, last weekend. I had a great time (in a “What the eff has my life come to?” sort of way) and I’m working on a funny post that you’re sure to love. But right now there’s something more timely to talk about, and that’s the flooding from Hurricane Irene in upstate New York.

Everyone was worried about what the storm would do to New York City, but the downstate area pretty much got off the hook. Upstate, however, is ravaged, especially around Albany and the Catskills, where one town got over a foot of rain.

For those of you not up on your New York State geography, my hometown of Albany is 150 miles due north of Manhattan on the west bank of the Hudson River, just south of where the Mohawk River meets the Hudson. Some trees were knocked down during the storm last weekend, but the real damage came—and is still coming—from the resulting floods.

This is a popular drive-up restaurant on the banks of the Mohawk River in Scotia, NY, not too far from the company I telecommute for. I ate here several times on my lunch hour when I was back East last summer.

And here’s how it looked yesterday.

Flooding has to be the worst. What a mess.

My family is fine, thank God. My daughter, Courtney, had the closest call. She and her family live in a rural area outside of Albany that was hit very hard because there are several creeks running through there. Her front and back yards were flooded, as was their barn. They evacuated Sunday night, but thankfully, they returned Monday morning to find their house untouched.

Not far from Courtney, a woman was swept to her death by the raging Onesquethaw Creek as she prepared to leave her home to seek shelter at the local elementary school. According to this article, she was last seen leaving her house and “like that, she was gone.” So sad.

My son and his girlfriend expect to close on a house in that area sometime this week. Fortunately, their place is on higher ground. I guess the good news is, they know it can withstand both a flood and an earthquake. Yep, Albany felt the quake centered in Virginia last week—my company and several other offices even evacuated.

What the hell, huh?

You know, when we hear of these natural disasters, it’s human nature to get a little charged up. The folks are The Weather Channel get positively giddy, don’t they? In a sick way, we’re even a wee bit disappointed when things peter out and the devastation doesn’t quite live up to the hype of the predictions. But man, we tend to forget how serious these events are and how they can change people’s lives, sometimes in a way where they’ll never be the same.

I always say that if you wake up in the morning, can see yourself in the mirror and can take a proper piss and shit… well, right there you have nothing to complain about. It’s already a great day.

I know I have a lot of readers who’ve been affected by not only this storm, but by those crazy tornadoes early this summer. My heart goes out to all of you. Stay safe.

Where in the world was I last weekend?

2011-08-29T06:52:00.000-07:00

I know. I completely missed my Saturday post. I hate that I did that; I really, really try to post on a regular schedule. Between moving, working, having Connor here and taking the kids on a little trip, I completely dropped the ball. I promise I'll write a proper post tomorrow.

In the meantime, any guesses to where the hell I was last weekend? (Or was I right here in Las Vegas?)

What were you in a previous life?

2011-08-25T03:06:00.000-07:00

There’s a question for you. The topic came up the other night as Mike and I were working on the house. He’s convinced he’s had a previous life in the Excalibur era. (How else would you explain all the swords and shields?) As for me, this is what I wrote in my book:

I’d been drawn to the West my whole life; as a kid my imaginary friends were cowboys and sheriffs. I often told people, proudly and with absolute certainty, that in a former life I was a saloon girl. It made total sense, given my childhood obsession with Bonanza and my comfort level as an adult in the tavern environment. Not to mention my passion for lipstick. Then a couple of years ago someone took me aside and told me, to my surprise, that those women were prostitutes. Although I remain quite certain of that past life, I now keep the admission to myself.

It sounds weird, but I really do believe I've lived before in the Wild West. When I arrived in Wyoming ten years ago, I had a definitely sense of being home. Oh, Wyoming--I will visit you again someday, I swear. I also wouldn’t be surprised if I were a Salem witch. Just a feeling; that probably ties in somehow with my fear of organized religion.

Ever wonder about those people who participate in Renaissance fairs (something Mike used to do) (!) and Civil War re-enactments? I’ll be honest with you—I’ve always thought those folks are a bit… different. But maybe people who are comfortable in another era aren’t really oddballs; maybe they feel that way because of a familiarity with a past life. Dressing up in those clothes, speaking that way, and reliving battles… maybe it’s all stuff they’ve done before.

What do you think? Do you feel you’ve experienced past lives? What were you before you were you?

Welcome to my world

2011-08-23T08:08:00.000-07:00

Last night we were up till freakin' 2 o'clock in the morning arranging the formal living room. And I do mean formal, people. Remember last Thursday's post when I told you about the very significant differences in Mike's and my taste in home decor? Southwest meets medieval Gothic? Well, here's a glimpse of how one room came together.

I call this the "I'm sorry for your loss corner." Just position a pleasantly somber man in a suit nearby and replace the kids' pictures with a sign-in book and we've got a scene straight from Six Feet Under.

My contribution to this corner is the Southwest hand. Mike had to settle for a baby grand piano only because he couldn't find an operational harpsichord.

"Gomez, darling, would you light the candelabra?"

We had to rub my fake dog Stiff's nose in his fake poop for this one. Really, Stiff? Next to Joan of Arc?

Somehow it all comes together. I keep telling Mike we need some color in here, but he insists that beige is a color.

And now for something completely different...

The guest room, designed by Linda Lou and Mike's 6-year-old daughter. (His kids call this "the cool room." Duh.) Yeah, that's a shag area rug. Yeah, that's a papasan chair. Yeah, that's a blow-up bed. You can't see my collection of crystals from this angle, but they're there. Okay, maybe I'm a little stuck in the 70s, but at least it's the 1970s, not the 70s of the fifteenth century.

Mike is a saint, I tell you. I tease him about his taste, but God knows it's classier than mine.

My grandson Connor will be sleeping there tonight--yay! He arrives at 4:10 today. I cannot wait. Good thing his biological clock will be set three time zones ahead of ours--I think it's going to be an early night. I'm exhausted!

House is coming along... and a celebrity look-alike

2011-08-20T15:13:00.000-07:00

I am so diggin' this new house of ours. How could I not? We still have so much to set up, but it's coming along, slowly but surely. The master bedroom is just about done; Mike just has to hook up the TV and we're pretty much good to go.

We've been able to blend our contrasting tastes in decor quite well. Mike's pictures are above the bed and to the right of the bed; they're of old-timey guys on horses with their hunting dogs (how masculine). The pictures above the couch and the dresser are mine; they're of Bell Rock in Sedona and tepees. Somehow it all comes together.

On the other side of the couch is a sliding glass door to a balcony. Mike put a little refrigerator out there, which is stocked with dark beer and Two Buck Chucks from Trader Joe's. This is the view looking toward the mountains.

And here I'm looking at the Strip.

Pretty cool. Nothing can compare to the view I had at Linda Land, but you're not going to hear me complain--I can't believe I wake up here every day!

Like I said, we still have a shitload of stuff to do, and I really want to get almost all of it done before my grandson Connor arrives on Tuesday. He'll be here until September 3, and then I'm going back with him to spend some time in Albany. I haven't seen little Hazel since April--I miss her so much!

Hey, speaking of Connor... There's a teen idol kid named Grayson Chance who I swear is a dead ringer for my boy. You may have seen him on Ellen a couple of times.

I can't get over it--the resemblance is really freaky. Love that Connor's shirt is folded over so it says "Proud to be Awesone." Grayson Chance wishes he were that awesone!

Hope you're all having a great weekend! Now back to work for me...

I TOLD you we're a reality show waiting to happen...

2011-08-18T12:00:00.000-07:00

Moving is never simple, but thanks to Purgefest 2010, I’m down to my essentials so vacating Linda Land is no big deal. My beloved Michael, however, is a bit of a pack rat. He has a ton of possessions he’s collected over the years as well as all the stuff that goes with having little kids. We’re moving into a big house, though, and there’s room for everything. Almost.

It’s fun putting a new place together; I look at it as a creative endeavor. Sure, lugging heavy crap up and down stairs is a pain, but I consider it exercise. Something has to make up for my atrocious nutritional habits lately—it’s hard to cook when you’re moving, so we’ve been eating out and hitting the fast food joints a lot lately. I feel fat as Elvis after Christmas dinner.

I’m digging it, though, especially the challenge of merging our two different—make that polar opposite—tastes in home décor. I don’t have time to post pictures today, but I go for vibrant, playful Southwest colors and designs and Mike’s taste is pure medieval. I’m talking giant heavy brass mirrors, statues, and swords. Lots of swords. And shields. I fully expect to come home some day to find he’s installed a moat and drawbridge.

With the exception of the TV and the sectional couch in the family room, every bit of Mike’s furniture looks like it was from a nineteenth century New England estate sale. I know it’s all good, expensive stuff, but I find it so depressing. Everything—everything—is some shade of brown. Okay, his ensemble in the formal living room is a cheery brownish, tanish gray.

When I saw the glass sofa table and Victorian wing chair arrangement he set up in one corner, I said, “I’m looking for the guest book.”

Huh?

“You know, the guest book you sign when you walk into a wake.” I pointed to the candelabra. “We can lay out the body over there.”

I’m talkin’ total 1942 funeral parlor, people.

So you can see it’s a bit of a challenge. Like where exactly do I put my crystals and native American sand paintings and Kokopellis? Where’s the best place for the funky green shag carpet I bought a couple of years ago at Walmart? How do you think my beloved fake dog, Stiff, is gonna look next to Mike’s statue of Joan of Arc on a marble pedestal? (Stiff would look awesome on that pedestal, BTW.)

These are the challenges I face. To put it in perspective, all Obama has to do is fix the economy.

Mike is so, so good about my crap. It has to drive him nuts, but (unlike me) he never says a word. Seriously—this is no exaggeration—except for my car, TV and laptop, I might not have one possession worth more than fifty bucks. But it’s all priceless—it brings me joy.

And you know what? I’m not so sure that Mike’s possessions—as fine and aristocratic as they are—bring him joy. Sure, I know he’s fond of a few things, but I get the impression that most of it was purchased to fill space. He holds onto stuff because he got a good deal on it, not because he loves it. So in a way, my crap is actually more valuable. My crap brings me joy.

Still, Mike’s a freakin’ saint. Just for yuks, last night I told him I found this really cool decoration I want to buy.

“You know those pictures of dogs playing cards?” I said, brimming with enthusiasm. “It’s like that except it’s battery operated and—get this—the dogs’ cigars actually light up.”

I shouldn’t do that to him. He has small children and I’m not current on my CPR.

Can you accept good fortune or do you wait for the bottom to fall out?

2011-08-16T07:33:00.000-07:00

Albany, NY: Spring, 1978. I was 20 years old, living with my 23-year-old husband, Chris, and our beautiful baby, Christopher, who had been born in February. At that point, I was not yet pregnant with Courtney. Or maybe I was and didn’t know it; Courtney arrived in March 1979.

We were paying $220 a month for a very nice 2-bedroom apartment on South Allen Street near St. Peter’s Hospital. Besides food and clothing, housing was our only expense. We didn’t even have a car—Chris took the bus every morning to Bruno Machinery, where he worked in the warehouse. I remember he took home $108 per week.

Then one day he called with good news. He’d gotten a raise, a huge raise. He’d now be taking home close to $150.

I got off the phone and cried. I couldn’t believe it. This is too good to be true. Instead of jumping for joy, I became consumed with the fear that in only a matter of time, something would happen to spoil our good fortune.

Stupid, huh? Doesn’t the universe want only the best for us? Don’t our angels rejoice when things go our way? But forget that spiritual shit—Chris was a hard worker. He deserved that raise. So why not accept the inevitable?

Last weekend Mike and I set up the living room in the 4,000 sq. ft. Beverly Hillbillies mansion we’re renting. It’s coming along beautifully, and as I stepped back to admire our work, I had a flashback of my fear from more than 33 years ago.

This time I shooed it away. We deserve this. We work hard; we’ve been working hard for years. We’re educated people in our 50s with master’s degrees from smarty-pants schools (Stanford University and Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute). And hell, the rent is less than what each of us were paying separately. We chose this place. We created this life for ourselves. Our angels are rejoicing and so should we.

We are; we rejoice and give thanks. I walk around that place and think, Thank you, God… Thank you, God… Thank you, God. There’s nothing wrong with being grateful, but what a shame it would be to let fear spoil our happiness.

What about you? Can you accept the wonderful things that come your way without a bit of fear? Do you truly believe you deserve good fortune? Tell me your story!

Movin' on up... explained

2011-08-13T09:51:00.000-07:00

Have you been losing sleep the past couple of nights, wondering how the hell the Beverly Hillbillies house came to be?  Per yesterday's little poll, most of you thought I'd be house sitting for a friend or sharing the house with girlfriends. Two guessed correctly: I'm back with Mike and we're renting a house together.

I've already heard from the chorus of skeptics:

"I can't believe you're giving up Linda Land."
"You and Mike have broken up so many times. That's never a good sign."
"Why would you ever want to live with small children again?"
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Better you than me."

I certainly don't have to defend myself, as you and I both know. But you're my loyal, beloved readers and my life is literally an open book. I have no problem telling you what's going on; as I've said before, I hope some of you can be inspired by my life and/or learn from my mistakes.

It's true--Mike and I have split up so many times over the past two and a half years that my friends can hardly keep track of our current status. I was always the one to break it off. Why? I've written before about geniuses who appear to have not one iota of common sense. Mix that in with total disorganization, streams of consciousness that wear me out to the point where my ears are bleeding, obsession with Black Ops and working on trigonometry problems (!) when God knows there's more important things to do, absolutely no concept of time, and chronic tardiness (yeah, I said tardiness and I'm not even a school teacher). As much as I loved him, it was more than I could handle.

Our very first break-up was over his showing up late for a date, and that was just the beginning. "Why the hell can't you be anywhere on time?" I've often asked. No, shouted. I'm neurotic about being on time and respecting other people's time. When he'd arrive how many minutes late or even entirely forget we were supposed to do something, I came to the conclusion that I simply wasn't important enough. Fuck that--I am important and if I can't be treated well, I'm out of there. I was living on a baseline of frustration, with occasional spikes of happiness. I deserved better.

"How hard is it to get someplace on time? It's like you're half genius and the other half is fucking retarded!" I've screamed, my chest heaving in anger.  "What's wrong with you?"

When he totally forgot his daughter's kindergarten graduation because he was working out at the gym, I realized something is, in fact, wrong. I've long suspected he had ADD, but never took my hunch seriously; I was more like, yeah, the whole world has ADD. Just look at your goddamn watch once in a while.

But he missed his kid's graduation. So I got online and started researching, specifically what it's like to have a partner with ADD.

Feelings can get hurt when the individual with ADHD blurts out thoughts without tempering them, forgets important events, doesn’t follow through with promises, or gets distracted from their partner’s conversations. An individual with ADHD may have difficulty seeing things from their spouse’s point of view.

Sometimes partners feel like they are parenting their ADHD partner rather than the relationship being equal. They end up being the one to provide structure and reminders. They end up feeling frustrated, disappointed, and fed up when their ADHD partner does not comply.

Oh, hello. I approached Mike with my armchair diagnosis. He did his own research and said it was like reading the story of his life. He'd always felt different and could never identify why; they didn't test for those things when we were kids. We went to a counselor who affirmed that Mike's behaviors certainly indicate ADHD. She said she was surprised that he's been able to achieve the level of success that he has and asked how he's managed in business all this time without a diagnosis.

"People are pretty forgiving," he said, referring to the instances where his behavior seeped into the business world. He hadn't had such forgiveness in his personal life.

When you truly understand, there is nothing to forgive. Remember that line in my book?

Things are different; I understand now. I give him several gentle reminders when he has to be somewhere and I don't get pissed off when he doesn't show up on time. The other night I watched him organize his coin collection--his way of preparing for our move. Before, I would have said, "Are you kidding me? Start throwing shit into boxes, for christsake!" But I just said, "You know you're doing an ADD thing now, right?" and he said, "Yep." And we both laughed. Shit will make their way into boxes eventually.

I'll never forget an exchange we had last fall. At that time, I knew so many women struggling with breast cancer (which can suck you know what) and I was feeling especially apprehensive about my yearly mammogram. Mike took me in his arms and said, "You never have to worry. I will always take care of you."

What's a little ADD where there's that kind of love between us?

Between Mike and his ADD, on top of living with small children again and my own picky-picky neuroses and self-diagnosis as a Highly Sensitive Person, we have a reality show in the making. The spiritual books on my shelf say that people come into our lives to teach us lessons. In my comedy act, I mention that I have the patience of John McEnroe in five o'clock traffic. Well, it looks like these people I'll be living with at least for the duration of our 1-year lease are going to teach me how to be patient. There's no turning back. There's no running away.

The house is 4,000 sq. ft. That's a good thing. Wish us well.

What's your guess?

2011-08-12T08:15:00.000-07:00

So how exactly does one go from living in a 1-bedroom apartment--sleeping on an air mattress, mind you--to living in a 4,000 sq. ft. home in a gated community? One of my readers suggested I should have some fun with this before tomorrow's post, so here are some possibilities. One of the following is true. What's your guess?

a) Kindle sales of Bastard Husband: A Love Story are through the friggin' roof and housing in Las Vegas is cheap as hell these days, so I got myself a big old pad to run around in. Not sure what I'm actually going to do with it yet, but I couldn't pass it up.

b) I found this sweet house on craigslist and will be living there with two of my single girlfriends who are also germ freaks like me. Think Monk meets The Golden Girls. Why should be all live in tiny apartments when together we can live large? And in supreme cleanliness?

c) Mike and I reconciled (again) and found a place big enough for the two of us and his three kids. There's no turning back now. Think a reality show waiting to happen. A scaled-down Linda Land will be recreated in one of the bedrooms, though the view is less than spectacular.

d) One of my former co-workers bought the house, but he'll be traveling for at least another 6 months. He doesn't want it to stay empty, so in the meantime, I get to enjoy the place (and his furniture when it gets delivered) for the cost of utilities.

e) None of the above.

Okay, there are your choices. Which one do you think is true?

Movin' on up!

2011-08-11T04:19:00.000-07:00

You may find this hard to believe, but earlier this week I gave my 30-day notice on my beloved Linda Land, the amazing apartment I've been renting since February. Linda Land began as a place to enjoy some peace and quiet when I was living in my boyfriend's house with his young children, who were there at least half the time. Then in early May, we broke up (for good, I said!) and I moved out completely and Linda Land became my full-time digs.

Oh, how I love Linda Land, with it's amazing view of the entire Las Vegas Valley, the balcony, the pools and hot tubs... and of course, my shabby-chic decor. I took this video back in June.

My sister Lori couldn't freakin' believe my apartment when she was here a couple of weeks ago. I told her I could feel the winds of change, though, and Linda Land would be time-limited. But I assured her I wouldn't give this up for anything less.

I saw online that the house I grew up in at 8 Lincoln Avenue in Albany is for sale. That's the one I mention in my book, with five kids, two parents, a dog... and one bathroom.

Yep, seven of us in 1160 square feet. And now I'm moving into a house more than three times that size.

You never know how life is going to twist and turn. If you'd told be a month ago I'd be living in a house like the one I'm about to move into, well, I probably wouldn't have been too surprised. But if you told 16-year-old Linda Haber, the skinny cheerleader/bus driver's daughter from Lincoln Avenue, that someday she'd be a author and comedian living in Las Vegas in a freakin' a "Beverly Hillbillies" house complete with a cee-ment pond... I think it would have been out of the scope of her imagination.

Dream big, people.

So how did this all come about? How did I go from sleeping on an air mattress in 1-bedroom Linda Land to a place like this?

You know, in the three years I've been writing this blog, I don't think I ever left you with a cliff hanger. Until now. Tune in Saturday!

(I agree--I'm such an a-hole.)

Men are people, too

2011-08-09T03:17:00.000-07:00

A couple of years ago, I wrote a piece entitled "Are Middle Aged Women Invisible?" for Living-Las-Vegas.com. It was one of their most popular posts. Here's an excerpt.

Even in the best of circumstances, middle age can be a trying time for women. Do a Google search and you’ll find countless books, articles and blogs lamenting that once women turn 40, they start to become invisible – not just to men, but to society in general. In our youth-obsessed culture, they say, gals my age are no longer considered attractive, so we remain under the radar, as if the world stops seeing us as part of humanity.

In the article, I go on to say that I never quite bought into that “Invisible Woman Syndrome” and I fancy myself as the type who would bloom wherever she’s planted. I don't know why, but I've always had a (somewhat annoying) sense of self-confidence and the related sense of self-worth.

That said, I've still had my share of times when I'd look in the mirror in thorough disgust. I'm too fat, I hate my hair... whatever. Crazy shit. Funny, the older I get, the better I feel about myself and my sense of attractiveness. But I'm a total weirdo. Probably delusional.

Anyway, women tend to think we have the lock on such neurotic-ness. We believe men age gracefully and that it's a snap for them to attract women, even those much younger than they are. Aging is a breeze for men, huh? Hell, life is a breeze for men, right?

Wrong.

I'd like you to check out my friend Ray's R. Jacob Post, specifically yesterday's entry. You'll get a glimpse into one man's perspective that, quite honestly, women don't get to see very often.

Sometimes we forget that men are people, too. Ray's post is a poignant reminder.

Comedy this Friday night!

2011-08-08T09:46:00.000-07:00

If you're in Las Vegas this coming weekend, don't miss this show at the Leathernecks Club. I performed there a couple of weeks ago and it was a freakin' BLAST! The place was full of Marines and bikers--what a combo, huh? And it's all for a good cause.

BE THERE!!!

You tell me: How important is humor in a relationship?

2011-08-06T15:19:00.000-07:00

I'm working on what I think will be an amazingly awesome project about humor (I'm not ready to divulge any details yet) and would love to see how you answer the following questions. Respond to as many as you'd like as a comment, or if you prefer, shoot me an email at linda@bastardhusband.com.

1. On a scale of 1-5, how do you feel about this statement?
"A person's sense of humor is an important factor when choosing a dating or relationship partner" (1 = strongly disagree, 5 = strongly agree)

2. On a scale of 1-5, how do you feel about this statement?
"A shared sense of humor is an accurate predictor of the success of a relationship." (1 = strongly disagree, 5 = strongly agree)

3. On a scale of 1-5, how do you feel about this statement?
"A good sense of humor can make a person seem more physically attractive." (1 = strongly disagree, 5 = strongly agree)

4. Do you: a) consider yourself to be a funny person, b) consider yourself not particularly funny, but appreciate people who are, c) neither of the two.

5. Name some of your favorite comedians.

6. Name some comedians that the rest of the world seems to love, but you don't like at all.

7. Name some of your favorite comedy movies.

8. Name some movies that the rest of the world thought was funny, but you didn't.

9. Name some of your favorite comedy TV shows.

10. Name some shows that rest of the world thinks is funny, but not you.

Thank you! I can't wait to see what you have to say.

Something to shout from the rooftops

2011-08-04T03:18:00.000-07:00

Lori left today--bummer. We have such a blast together, though we were a bit out of sync on our trip to California.

"Can you believe we didn't see one bar we wanted to go in?" she remarked on the way back to Vegas.

And it was true. We drove around a good part of Southern California and never came across a tavern, pub, or biker bar that beckoned us to stop. Same can't be said of northern Alabama, that's for sure! We're just a couple of weirdos.

Here's a picture Lori took of me at the gas station before we hit the road Saturday morning.

I was like, "Why the hell are you taking a picture of me pumping gas?"

She said it would be good to document that we did, in fact, get gas--unlike the start of our East-West cross-country road trip last November. This is hilarious, if you haven't seen it yet.

That is so freakin' funny. Every time I watch that I crack up. Our mother, Dee Dee Idaho, is such an excellent traveler--we dragged her all over the place, including a few biker bars, and she happily went along for the ride.

Mom had a birthday on Sunday--lucky 77! Man, that is hard to believe. One of my first memories is standing on the corner of Jay and Allen Streets in Albany with my little neighbor friend Raymie Long. After we discovered our mothers were the same age, we decided there'd be nothing cooler than to shout to the world, "My mother's 29! My mother's 29! My mother's 29! My mother's 29! "

I can remember when my mother was 29. Damn!

If you've read my book, you know that Mom suffered from agoraphobia for years and hardly ever left the house. Now she's making up for lost time, traveling around the country--even flying by herself--and having fun, as you can tell from her recent Facebook posts:

"Going to Ste. Chapelle winery and sit under the trees, drink wine and listen to Jimmy Buffet music."

And then a few hours later:

"Had a ball. Not only did we drink wine and listen to Jimmy Buffet music, but we danced up a storm, barefoot in the grass. I'm exhausted. I wish all of you were here; you would have loved it, too."

We tease her and say that all those years on the couch must have preserved her; she's outlived most of her friends in Albany and when she moved to Idaho, she had to get herself some younger BFFs who can keep up with her.

"My mother's 77! My mother's 77!" I'll shout it from the rooftops--she won't care--she looks pretty damn good, huh?

Busy, busy weekend!

2011-08-02T03:38:00.000-07:00

What a weekend. I took yesterday off from work because Lori and I figured we'd want to spend an extra day in California, but we ended up coming back to Vegas on Sunday night. I'll tell you why later, but first let me tell you about Friday night--what a freakin' blast!

I thought I'd be doing a set for a benefit show at the Las Vegas Leatherneck Club sometime next month, but as it turned out, they asked if I could perform last Friday instead. The Leatherneck Club is a Marine/biker club, and you know I wasn't about to pass up the opportunity for get in front of a bunch of Satan's Helpers. It was a great crowd and I had so much fun. Lori recorded the entire show, and once I edit it a bit, I'll post some clips on YouTube.

(I always wear a short skirt and/or cleavage on stage so if my jokes suck, at least the audience can have some enjoyment.)

As soon as I got off stage, we zoomed over to Mandalay Beach and got there just as Frampton took the stage. It was a fantastic show, just as I'd expected. Peter Frampton is on Facebook and it's really him, if you want to be his friend. He seems so nice. Mandalay Beach is a lot of fun--one of those places you'd go to even if you were only marginally interested in the band because the venue is so cool.

After the concert Lori and I headed over to Big Al's Comedy Club in the Orleans for the Fryer's Club--the weekly gathering for local comics to socialize. My buddy Kato Kaelin was there again (I'm a shameless name dropper), so I got to introduce him to Lori. He's a really nice guy.

On Saturday morning we hit the road for California a little later than I wanted because I had some freelance work to finish up. Then we ran into a major traffic tie-up north of Escondido, and so we didn't get to the Del Mar Race Track until Sunday. No matter--we had a ball bar hopping in San Diego with Lori's sister-in-law and her husband. They put us up for the night, which was awesome.

The Del Mar Race Track is very nice, but I still think Saratoga is the most beautiful track there is. Even better than Churchill Downs.

We stayed for a few races and then headed up the coast toward Laguna Beach, which was friggin' packed. I'd never been there before and always wanted to check it out.

I can't stand traffic and crowds, though, and by then both Lori and I were somewhat fried. It seemed we'd been go, go, going since we left the house. Southern California is a little too crowded and busy for me, and after watching the sunset at Crystal Cove, we decided to head back to Vegas. Crazy, I know.

We got into Vegas around 1:30 Monday morning and relaxed with a bottle of wine on my balcony, which overlooks the Las Vegas Valley. Peace at last! There's no place like Linda Land.

So this is funny. We thought Lori was leaving today at 5:25, but we weren't able to check her in 24 hours before her flight. Guess why? Her flight's not until tomorrow! Oh, well... sucks to be stuck for another day in Vegas!

In San Diego today

2011-07-31T07:24:00.000-07:00

Can you believe I didn't post yesterday? I never miss a scheduled day!

I'm writing this from my phone, so please excuse any typos. Right now my sister and I are in San Diego, at Lori's sister-in-law and her husband's house. I have lots to tell you, but it's a pain to peck away at this i-Phone, so I'll wait till I get back home.

In the meantime, enjoy your weekend! I'll post again soon.