Senator Yenta

Turns out, I’ve been looking for love in all the wrong places, and there’s one spot I’ve never bothered to check. Nearly missed it altogether. Until now, that is.

I’ve never asked my state’s senator to fix me up.

So, goodbye Plenty of Fish, JDate, and SingleParent. Farewell, OK Cupid, Our Time and eHarmony. It’s been swell,

And, hello, Senator Barbara Boxer. You’re my new best friend!

Why, you ask?

Well, haven’t you heard through the grapevine? Didn’t you read about it in Saturday’s edition of the New York Times?

News flash: Though U.S. senators don’t carry guns through the halls of the Capitol, they may very well be slinging an arrow or two. Make that, Cupid’s arrow. Put it this way: There’s at least one senator who has his arrow of love always at the ready.

According to the Times, Senator Chuck Schumer (D, NY) has, over the years, brought together countless staff members, and, with a little nudge or two,  he’s helped them attain the age-old quest for amoré. Suffice it to say, that this has resulted in a number of his staff falling head over heels, and tying the knot.

In other words, Schumer is a yenta.

That’s Senator Chuck Schumer to you. But to me, he’s the genuine article. A matchmaker who will find love for you faster than you can say, “Snap out of it!”

He loves love and seeing singles, well, couple up. But, the way I see it, Schumer’s in New York. I’m in California. Which means, I’m way out of his league—and his constituency. He has no incentive to help me, seeing how I don’t even work for him. Therefore, I must look a little closer to home for assistance. Which is why, I’m making a phone call.


“Good afternoon. Senator Barbara Boxer’s office.”

“Am I speaking to the office of the Senator Barbara Boxer, Democratic senator of California?”

“The one and only.”

“Hi, I’m one of the senator’s constituents. I live in Southern California and am a law-abiding citizen, who always remembers to take out her trash on pickup day, and pay her water bill on time. I must talk to Senator Boxer about a very important matter. Is she in?”

“What issue are you calling about?”

“One that is most urgent, and can mean the difference between being moonstruck or getting hit by a meteor.”

“Are you calling about Medicare? You sound like you’re on life support.”

“No, I am calling about something that’s very important, and critical to my well being. As one of her constituents, I know she’ll want to help me. Frankly it’s personal, and I’d prefer speak directly to her.”

“Ma’am, you’ll need to tell me what you’re calling about. I can’t put you through unless you do.”

“Uh, okay. I need to talk to the senator about finding me a match.”

“Excuse me? A match? Is this a call about arson? Are you reporting a wildfire? If so, you need to hang up and call 9-1-1. We don’t handle emergencies.”

“This is an emergency but not that kind of emergency. I need Barbara to find me a date. By the way, can I just call her Babs? I feel like we should be on friendlier terms if she’s going to help me in this way.”

“You may call her Senator Boxer. In any case, the senator doesn’t handle such requests. You need to go find yourself an online dating service.”

“I have tried several online dating services. Hundreds, in fact! To no avail. Babs is my only hope! All I need is for her to find me a guy. He should be funny, responsible, sensitive and able to read at least at the 7th grade level.

“And, he should be a fan of Arrested Development and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Furthermore, he should know who Brian Williams is and not be a mumbler. I hate mumblers. Finally, sense of humor is very important. Oh, and no emotional baggage, please. I have enough for the both of us.”

“Ma’am, what makes you think Senator Boxer can help you?”

“Because that’s what senators are for, aren’t they? To help their constituency? Senator Schumer has been helping his staff find perfect matches. While I don’t work for Babs, I’m not asking her to hire me and then find me a match. She can cut to the chase and just get me a date for Saturday night.”

“Let’s say she did do this for you, what would you do for the senator in return?”

“Why, I’d be forever grateful! I’d recommend her dating services to everyone–well, only to those living in California. I figure she’d want to set boundaries as to whom she sets up. I’d take her out for coffee and I’d even use my secret recipe for chocolate chip banana bread and bake her a loaf. One bite and she’d be hooked for life. So, can you please transfer me to Babs?”

“Not going to happen.”

“You mean, not going to happen today, because she’s busy reviewing legislation?”

“Not today, not ever. But if you send me a loaf of that chocolate chip banana bread, I’ll fix you up with my cousin, Willy. He just got out of prison.”

“Are we talking, Free Willy?”

“Take it or leave it.”

“Is he funny?”

“Only when he drools.”

“Hmm….Okay. Exactly where should I ship the loaf of bread?”

Thoughtsy Tagged me!

And Nate Shenk, Behind My Stunnas, and Dogdaz did, too!

Though, if you ask Behind My Stunnas, she’ll say she pimped me.

And, if that’s not enough, Lisa W. Rosenberg and Genesis Meranda each gave me a Sunshine Award, and Lisa, Eloise and Behind My Stunnas also gave me The Versatile Blogger Award (That makes six, so I must be very versatile, indeed!). Plus, not to be outdone, Renee gave me the Lovely Blog Award, while Lisa also gave me the Beautiful Blogger Award! Yikes! So many awards for little, old moi?? Why, I declare! I do believe I’m blushing.

Someone, puh-lease get me my smelling salts!

All these accolades have come in recent months, and I’m embarrassed to say, I’ve been remiss in showing my gratitude. Until now, that is.

So thank you, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank my fellow bloggers who have bestowed on me such fine awards. You’ve made me feel pretty, pretty special.

But, before I get too full of myself, I must now answer some questions put forth by these crazy kids who saw fit to tag me. And, frankly, as there are altogether too many questions, I’m only going to answer a few.

  • Pop-Tarts: frosted or unfrosted?  Definitely frosted and only the kind of the strawberry persuasion. Love the sprinkles, too.
    Do you think I’m pretty? You can use this picture as a reference.  No, that’s not me asking this question. This was put forth by Thoughtsy of Thoughts Appear. And I think Thoughtsy is, indeed, very pretty, with a quirky sense of humor, a love of sweets, and a healthy obsession with zombies.
  • What’s your favorite quote? That’s easy.  “Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practise to deceive.”  Sir Walter Scott said it—not Shakespeare, as some think—and, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was thinking of me when he wrote it.
  • What are you proud of?
    I am proud of the fact that, no matter what mayhem is thrown my way, I’m the kind of gal that likes to look on the bright side. So, move over, Pollyanna, two can play at this game!
  • What country (other than America) would you like to live in?  Forget country! I’m picking a continent: Europe. After all, why just settle for one nation?
    What TV show do you watch that you’re embarrassed to admit to?  None. I’m not ashamed of any of the shows I watch, whether it be Ringer, Parks and Recreation, The Daily Show, General Hospital (now that my own soap has been unceremoniously cancelled)r Masterpiece. As long as they’re not reality shows (which I absolutely detest), then they’re all worthwhile.  
  • What ambition do you still have?
    To write, write, write. To write until I’m blue in the face or hell freezes over, whichever comes first. Oh, and to get published. Wouldn’t it be nice if my book made it on the New York Times‘ Bestseller List? Dream on, I say!
  • Do you believe that the government should legalize marijuana? (heh-heh you don’t have to answer, I just wanted to mix things up a bit).  Yes, Nate. This is a no-brainer. It’s silly not to, akin to Prohibition. People are going to use it anyway so might as well legalize it and tax it heavily (like we do cigarettes), so we can pump much-needed dollars into states that are currently struggling—like California.  If we did this, we could get rid of the national debt in a heartbeat!
  • Who would you like to meet who is still living?  Colin Firth. He’s a man for all seasons: A great (handsome) actor who’s British (and that’s always a plus!). He’s also charitable, an advocate for the environment, a loving husband and has just about every other quality that is good in this world. And, if given a chance to meet him, I’m bringing along Meditating Mummy, who shares my devotion.
    And, while I’m at it, I’d also like to meet all my fellow bloggers and readers, who regularly comment, and say nice things about my insipid writings, and who have amazing blogs that I thoroughly enjoy reading. I’d throw them a party, and serve Mango Margaritas, and we’d laugh and banter into the wee hours of the morn. And, as the sun begins to rise, I’d sing a song about drunken sailors, and we’d all dance a round of the insidious, mind-boggling classic, the Macarena. We’d culminate with a game of miniature golf. It promises to be a blast! So, who’s in?

So, now I’m passing these awards on to the following folks who all have wonderful blogs, so be sure to check them out! Finally, not to be outdone, Henry, too, has picked a few of his faves. So here’s our list:

Bassa’s Blog

Bongo Dog Blog

Arkwrights of Orton

The Big Green Bowl

The Film Fatales

Heal Now and Forever Be in Peace

I Know I Made You Smile


The Mixed Up Brains of Lisa Weinstein

Meditating Mummy

Musings by an ND Domer’s Mom

One Sister’s Rant

Reinventing the Event Horizon

Savvy Working Gal

The Ten Things She Thinks About

Apropos of nothing, I just returned from a fabulous trip to Seattle where I took a class on memoir writing and will tell you more about my visit in an upcoming post. Stay tuned!

Now, that you’ve all been tagged, know this. There are rules. I’m supposed to give you questions to answer and then you’re supposed to tag and/or award to others. But, I say–and Henry agrees–make your own rules! Or not.

And, most of all, take pleasure in knowing you’ve been honored by a jury of your peers (if Henry and I count as peers). Enjoy the accolades. You deserve them!

Six Degrees from Fame

Some people are just six degrees of separation away from Kevin Bacon. Well, I am six degrees of separation away from just about everyone else. Clearly, that can only mean one thing:  I’m famous! I dare you. Name one famous person—as long as they’re not from a reality show, that is–and chances are, you will find that we are kindred spirits. Odds are, I can show you that we have at least one thing in common.  Here are a few, just to get you started:

Note the watch. I have the exact, same one! How uncanny is that? Photograph from People Magazine.

Bruce Springsteen:  No brainer. We share the same birthday, September 23rd. Look it up if you don’t believe me! Plus, he’s from New Jersey and I’m from New York. Why that’s practically one and the same, if you ask me!

Amanda Knox:  Now, if you had asked me last month, I would have said, what? Me and Amanda? That’s crazy talk. But, now I know better. That girl and I are two peas in a pod. She’s from Seattle and I lived there once. She spent a couple of years in an Italian prison and I visited Italy once. And we both wear the same Swatch. I bought mine in France during a trip there, and she must have acquired hers while serving time. I’m assuming it came with the prison garb. In any case, do you  see how much we have in common? It’s plain eerie if you ask me.

Steve Jobs and Bill Gates:  These two weren’t particularly fond of each other, but that’s nothing compared to what they both thought about me:  Nothing! They never gave me a second thought, for crying out loud. Nor a first thought, for that matter. It was as if I didn’t exist in their eyes. But here’s the clincher: all three of us were born in the same year. You can look it up if you don’t believe me, but why should I lie? I have nothing to gain, except my six degrees, that is.

Princess Diana:  I wrote a whole blog once on all that the People’s Princess and I had in common. What’s more, she had ties to royalty and so do I, in that, my dog, Henry, is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. Which means, he descends from royalty. Need I say more?

Kevin Bacon:  He’s married to Kyra Sedgewick and her show, The Closer, was one of my favorites. Plus, I’m fond of eggs and bacon for breakfast.

Bernie Madoff:  We’re both from New York. He allegedly made investments; I invested a little in stock once. His was a Ponzi scheme, of course, and my investment ended up losing money thanks to the economy. Anyway, Bernie went to prison and I once considered dating men in prison. Sheesh, give me a break. Men in stripes are an untapped dating market, after all.

Brian Williams:  He has a nightly news show, which I watch regularly. He also makes guest appearances on two of my favorite shows (not counting The Closer):  30 Rock and The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Bingo!

Joy Behar:  Joy Behar is a hoot and I like her a lot.  If I met her on the street, I’m sure we’d be fast friends. We’re both from New York and we both have New York accents, though mine is better. Sends chills down my spine to even think about how alike that makes us.

Courtney Cox:  My name is Monica and she played a character named Monica on some show about relationships. I’m blanking on the name of the show, but, trust me, it was funny. Besides, the character she played was a chef and I spent a whole day working in a McDonald’s while in college, and I’d probably still be there right now if it hadn’t been for an early spring blizzard in May. Plus, her show was on TV and I love watching TV. Enough said.

So you see? I’m just a few degrees away from just about any celeb. Ergo, I must be a celebrity at heart! So, now that I’ve proved I’m famous, how about you? Which personality are you six degrees from?

On Notice, Part Deux

In my first On Notice post I gave full credit to my father for inventing the On Notice list. (I’m talking to you, Colbert!) Well, friends, today I give you On Notice, Part Deux.

Highway Construction: My life is complicated enough, that I don’t need highway construction to make it even more so. I don’t want to be diverted or have to sit in a traffic jam because there’s only one lane available, all thanks to the never-ending highway construction on America’s roadways. And I don’t want to have to take the back roads, either. Frankly, I’m not always familiar with the alternate routes and that leads to getting lost. At my age, time is money, so finish the construction already!


There's nothing as scary as a toy clown!


Toy Clowns: Has there been any toy that is scarier? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Kids and clowns don’t mix–unless you want to scare the living daylights out of them. There is nothing more nerve wracking then the anticipation of a clown about to pop out of a box. The music alone, as you crank the lever, is enough to make your skin crawl. These clowns were made for one thing only: to taunt you. So, to clowns of all sizes I say, enough!!

Lindsay Lohan’s Parents: And Paris Hilton’s too, for that matter. When are you going to put your daughters in time out? They need help and they need it now. Remember, you’re never too old for tough love. Really. Discipline is what’s lacking. Clearly, Mom and Dad, you were too lax. Set limits. Work it out and help your kid. Oh yeah, that’s right. This is because your parents weren’t there for you, right? Well, I’m putting Lindsay and Paris’ grandparents on notice too!

Airplane Travel: Who likes to travel anymore? Soon, I’ll be telling my grandchildren that once there was a thing called direct, non-stop flights, which are impossible to find now. If I could figure out a way to go from California to New York, that is just as fast or close to it, then I’d stop flying. The airlines hold us hostage and they know it. We have to fly and they have to torture us, not to mention, nickel and dime us. Sigh.

Beanie Babies – These were supposed to be collector’s items. Why else did I buy 200 of them? I never even took the tags off! Curse you, Ty, Inc., for making them cute and for making so many!

Product Recalls: Face it, everything is recalled at one time or another. Can’t we agree to recognize that the quality of goods in America is only so-so at best and call it a wash? No need for more recalls. Just use the products you buy, eat your hamburgers, your veggies too, and think of it as a game called Russian Roulette. This past year, my car’s floor mats were recalled, not to mention the battery in my navigational system, and I for one am going to ignore these recalls. Same goes for you, eggs and tomatoes! Nothing is immune from recall and it makes my head spin trying to keep track.

Neopolitan Ice Cream: Sure, three flavors to choose from but guess which one everyone wants? Chocolate. So pretty soon the chocolate side is gone and you have this big gaping hole and now you can’t find anyone to eat the strawberry because it has that weirdly artificial strawberry taste. And you can’t have any more chocolate until you finish the strawberry and vanilla so you can buy a new carton. My advice: Just buy chocolate ice cream. Problem solved.

Dog Owners: At least those who do not clean up after their dogs. As a dog owner myself, I respect the grass and all the outdoors. I carry little bags in a rainbow of colors so that I can pick up after mine. So why can’t every other dog owner do the same? Might as well be asking, why can’t we all get along?

Stewart/Colbert Restore Sanity/Fear Dueling Rallies: Yes, I know these rallies are the most talked about, happening event of the year. Don’t get me wrong. I’m ALL for sanity. And I wouldn’t mind a little fear mongering. But still, I curse you, Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert, for not planning these in a place where I can attend—closer to the West Coast, say Los Angeles or, better yet, San Diego! And why must you talk about the rallies on your shows each night? To rub it in my face that I’m too far to attend?! Now, if I could get a direct, non-stop flight, that would be another story. So until then, I’m boycotting the rallies. Which is too bad, because I really wanted to go. Which is why you’re on notice, airline industry!

Addicted to Amazon

I have an addiction and before we go any further, you should know, I don’t plan to give it up.  Yes, I am addicted to They make it so easy.  They bend over backwards to keep you happily connected to them, while seemingly oblivious to all the money you’re spending, so that you want to shop there.  Again and again.  I imagine the folks who work at Amazon gather in a large meeting room with their mugs of Seattle-brewed coffee and put their feet up on the table (people who work in web jobs tend to be über casual) and come up with a slew of ways to make connections with each customer. Well, whatever they do, it works on me.  They had me at hello.

Here’s why:  Amazon makes me feel like we’re in a relationship, emailing me everyday, noticing what I buy, what I like, complimenting me on the wise shopping decisions they say I make, then making recommendations for me based on past purchases. “As someone who has purchased fiction from Amazon, you might be interested in…”  They never ask if I actually had time to read all the books I’ve ordered.  No guilt, no making me feel bad about the stacks of books piling up, waiting for me to read.  They just want to make sure I buy more.  My inbox is filled with emails they send me.

Amazon is also like having an executive assistant: they remind me about birthdays so I can buy Amazon gifts from the recommended list.  I don’t have to even think about what to get, Amazon takes care of that for me.  This comes in handy, though I do wish they could also remind me about upcoming doctor appointments, when my car’s oil needs to be changed and when I need to make an appointment with my hairdresser because my roots are showing.

Say what you want, but I really enjoy shopping on Amazon, especially since I became a Prime member.  Prime means “first in importance” which is what I must be to them now that I’ve plunked down my $79 a year for this service.  I’m always guaranteed two-day delivery, except on the weekends, or I can get overnight delivery for an extra $3.99.  No sooner do I click to make a purchase that it’s boxed and shipped out in minutes.  No fuss, no muss.  No chance to change my mind! It’s as if they’ve assigned me one person to be at the ready for when I’m shopping on their web site.  Someone who’s never asleep at the wheel, a job I would fail miserably doing.  I click and they’re already processing my order and withdrawing the funds from my bank account. Seconds later, the email arrives that my order is ready to be shipped.

The iPhone, makes it’s even easier to buy on Amazon.  The other night I was watching The Daily Show and Jon Stewart was interviewing an author whose book seemed intriguing.  I picked up my iPhone, went to the Amazon app and found the book.  Then I just clicked “Buy Now.” There’s no need to add it to my shopping cart, no need to sign in.  Amazon knows me.  So I just click “buy now” and voila! The book is on its way!

You can buy just about anything from Amazon.  My friends laugh at me because I buy my cereal on Amazon.  I’m on the Subscribe and Save plan for my cereal and also my vitamins, which means I get 15% off and I set the terms regarding when they should send me my next shipment (about every two months).  And if I need them faster, I can click “Ship Now.”  I could explain why I can’t buy my cereal locally, but that’s another story.

I’ve been an Amazon enthusiast (to call me a “customer” doesn’t capture the depths of this relationship, if you ask me) since November 30, 1998.  That was when I made my first purchase, some holiday VHS tapes, which clearly dates me and my relationship with Amazon.  Since then, Amazon has supplied me with countless books and supported me through my transition to DVD’s.  Amazon also sold me a 40-inch HD TV, followed by a blu-ray player, orange sandals, a filter for my air conditioning unit, several pedometers, a Hoover vacuum cleaner guaranteed to pick up pet hair and so much more.

Let it be known:  if it exists, you can probably buy it on Amazon.  And that’s why I’m sticking with my addiction.