Things I Won't Buy For Myself

My girlfriend, Pilar, has a wonderful upscale little clothing shop named "Lilac" about a block away from our home.

Pilar is a gorgeous woman from the UK who is half English and half Persian. She's a delight!

I've made several purchases in her store, and we've discussed our mutual admiration for gin and tonics! She came by after work last night and we had drinks on the patio.

Pilar is in her late 30's, or maybe 40, about the same age as my daughter. She has a totally wonderful sense of humor, sparkling intelligence, and that fantastic British accent. We talk about our husbands, my kids, her two young children, my grandchildren, food, sex, and money. We are both experts in all these subjects.

When I dropped in to her shop today to see some new "cords" she had gotten in, I decided I had to have them. Cords are so perfect for winter and it will be winter here one day soon, although today it is 75 degrees outside.

When I got home, I found out that Pilar had slipped a little surprise in my bag. These yellow lace panties are gorgeous. I buy white cotton for myself, but I don't pay $30 for a pair of panties either. I don't know if I will ever wear them, but damn, they are pretty!

Sapphires Are Good

I love jewelry. Diamonds, rubies, pearls, they all work for me.

Alex gave me this white gold and sapphire bangle bracelet for our 21st anniversary. I really find it pretty exquisite. The bracelet is a John Hardy design. He's pretty famous I gather.

I gave Alex an IPad for our anniversary. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. One year I gave him a few rare baseball cards. He was thrilled. Go figure.

I also gave him a set of rims for his car. He was so excited about those rims. Uh huh. I get it. Rims are great.

I am very easy to shop for. A leather Gucci bag and I'm delighted. Diamond and ruby bracelets? Oh yeah, that works for me! Black pearl earrings? Yes! A Chanel jacket? Wonderful! Prada pumps? You just can't go wrong.

Do you have any idea how wrong you can go with car and tech toys? I can assure you the results can be scary, particularly because I know absolutely nothing about cars or tech stuff.

And what's worse, I don't want to know. Alex will blab on and on about something that I don't know what it is and I try to get it for him. Blue Tooth, Blue Ray, excuse me? I don't know what either one is, so it makes it hard to buy one.

On the other hand, say "blue sapphire" and you really can't go wrong unless you go too small. In this case, that's not a problem.

I Hate Elevators

In the best of times, I hate elevators. I have a touch of claustrophobia.

I hate heights too. And I hate violent motion. Thrill rides are not for me. The "It's A Small World" ride at Disneyland gives me heart palpitations.

I was watching CNN and seeing Wolf Blitzer talk about the imminent rescue attempt of the Chilean miners and I started feeling shaky. I could not climb into that tube thing and be hauled out of the earth if my life depended on it.

I would have to tell them no thanks. I'd rather just sit down there for the rest of my days than to climb into that capsule. People could send me down water and food from time to time. That would be okay. Also, they could write letters to me because I like to read. And maybe an IPod with batteries, but only if someone besides my husband chooses the music.

Gin would be nice too. Plus a little Maker's Mark whiskey. Oh, yeah, and a couple of outfits. Wearing the same clothes all the time would be unpleasant and would get me feeling "down".

I realize that I would feel isolated after all the other people got pulled out, but I could deal with isolation better than I could with getting into that capsule. Maybe my cat could come down and join me. Pets are calming they say.

Actually, if they had a convict serving a life sentence and he was skinny, they could send him down to join me. I think you have to be skinny to get in that tube in the first place, so I can't request my husband. It would be okay if the convict was a killer because he probably wouldn't kill me. I mean, I'm his only company, right? Plus, they would give us better food than he got in prison but that would be because of me, not him.

I really pray this rescue goes well. I just can't watch it without hyperventilating.

Starts Innocently Enough

Here I am at the beginning of our day. The sun was shining and all was right with the world. I was happy and perfectly sober.

This photo was taken about noon when we took the train to San Francisco.

San Francisco has so many temptations and opportunities for sin. I had forgotten that even though I'm a native!

I was very happy and carefree when I left. I was very happy and carefree when I came home. But I was also very drunk when I came home. And scarred. Let's not forget that part.

My daughter's dog Winnie (and I do love him to pieces) had clawed the back of my otherwise perfect legs. I only say perfect legs because it's semi - true and semi counts at my age. I will turn 65 next year.

I also awoke hung over and naked in the wrong bed. Yes, it was in my own house and with my own husband but still. Something had gone terribly awry.

I also was not sure how I got there. Nor was I sure why I was a bloody mess.

Looking at this photo, it seemed to all start so right! What went wrong, I ask you?

Tribal Scars

This photo was taken yesterday at Neiman Marcus in San Francisco.

It may be the last photo you will ever see of me with my legs showing.

My best friend CT, my husband, Alex and I had lunch and did a little window shopping.

Then we headed over to my daughter's condo in North Beach to watch the Blue Angels airshow from her terrace right below Coit Tower.

My daughter and her family have a lovely English Bulldog named Winston, aka Winnie, aka Bubba, aka Bubbalicious. I adore Winston. And, he adores me.

I greeted Winnie and in his enthusiasm, he jumped up on the back of my leg and caught me with his claws. Ouch. Unfortunately he drew blood and left a couple of nasty long scars on my left leg. My daughter and her husband were horrified and ran for the Neosporin ointment.

My daughter also banished Winnie from the Terrace. Poor Winston. It wasn't his fault that he was overcome with love. I now bear his marks. It could be worse. Hell, it has been worse.

The air show was marvelous by the way. CT and my daughter and I sat on the terrace sipping wine and laughing for what seemed like hours. It may have seemed like hours because it was actually hours.

I somehow got home and woke up in the wrong bed naked with bloody scars on my leg. That's how I know it was probably a fun night.