Sunday, March 29, 2009

I am sliding down the slippery slope of nonblogging. But I've been thinking of you, truly, I have. Feel like I'm about two days behind in everything. Palm Beach was fabulous and since getting back Thursday night, I've just finished unpacking.

Dad: "This is all yours? You've only been here two days. Jesus, Steph."

"Well, I didn't know what I would feel like wearing or what we'd be doing. And I'm leaving with more than I came."

Oh, D'oh. Never say that to dad or hubby, right? I'm sure many of you ladies can relate to the "I'm-leaving-with-more-than-I-came packing phenomenon." I'll usually make it work by throwing out stuff I don't need—half-empty shampoo or toothpaste or something—and carrying another shopping bag (or two or three). It's much easier when you're driving.

I've officially turned into an old, Jewish Yenta. The evidence is mounting and I would be found guilty in any court of law. I take Splendas from restaurants often. I can't help it. Splenda is expensive and something about the royal blue and yellow packet screams at me: Take me, take me home, Jewish lady. I need a nice home to sweeten up! I say "oy" a lot. Like, a lot. Oy. I complain about my aches and pains. And then I complain when the pills constipate me. I eat pitted prunes. Seriously, I love pitted prunes.

And then there's the fact that Wally stayed at the Ritz with us in PB. I didn't bring dog food with me; partly because I was lazy and partly because I thought they'd have a decent doggie dining menu, as many pet-friendly hotels do. When I realized we were staying on the club level, where complimentary food is set out for breakfast, lunch and dinner, I knew I'd made the right decision. Wally lunched on cold cuts of turkey breast and other unidentifiable meats and dined on brisket, chicken breast and other meaty things I could not identify.

Dad: "Steph, why don't you just go to Walgreen's and buy some fucking dog food already? You're going to make him sick giving him all that meat!"

"Do you know what they put in dog food? It's like horses and body parts. Real meat is so much better for him!"

Dad: "If he shits in here you're in big trouble young lady!"

He didn't shit. He looooved the Ritz-Carlton Palm Beach. And he loved meeting the other Malteses, Poodles and mutts that were residing there as well.

I was supposed to get the nipples tatted up tomorrow a.m. but I cancelled. I just don't feel like dealing of ten days of bandages during these busy weeks of season. I'm very happy with the progression of the girls though. Seeing the same people a month or two apart—Lynn, Alan, Kim and David—makes you realize how much you've changed. Your tits, I mean. Look how small they appear! I love having not-so-busty boobies.

I took some touristy shots of PB for those of you who've not been there. (See I do think of you!) After about an hour on Worth Ave—and a twenty minute convo with the diamond expert at Cartier, further evidence of the tanking economy when a Cartier salesman has nothing better to do than talk to someone like me who's clearly not buying—I got bored and walked to where it meets the ocean, which was a dazzling ombre sheet of blues this weekend.

Worth Ave. is the Rodeo Drive of PB, where all the finest retailers dock.

It intersects with Ocean Blvd., which is one of the most pristine, exclusive and expensive residential streets in the world, shown above. (This is where Donald's Mar-a-Lago, the former home of Margerie Merriwhether Post, looms. Worth Ave hits Ocean at one of the condo spots; there are some very old condo buildings on the same street as new $30,000,000 manses. Touristy me. Note the sheer awesomeness of the Ralf, even while windblown. I bow down to Ralf Mollica.

The Ritz has a brand-new Steiner Spa in-house called Eau Spa. The spa was really impressive and I was not expecting it.

The staff treated me very well, and I had an invigorating facial the day of my departure. The in-spa gift shop is also adiorable.

And in other news, in the past week or so. . .

I've gone on my first post-cancer date. It wasn't hard at all and the C word did not come up. I've joined team B&L in their sure-to-be successful upcoming Web venture. I've cut the bangs on the wig to the point where I actually really like them now. I've plucked in areas no woman should ever have to pluck. I've switched eyeshadow brands (Smashbox to Chanel). I've reluctantly had to switch lipgloss shades, as Chanel discontinued my mainstay, Force. I picked up #102, Eclipse. (FYI, the cosmetics and beauty staff at the Saks on Worth Ave. is incredibly retarded and unhelpful.) I've shrunk a little more. Made some new friends, seen some old ones. RSVPd to one million events and actually shown up to about five. And last night celebrated Laura's 26th bday with the crew.

Oh, and Dana is preggers again! Another busy year for her ahead. . .Off to the gym and a rainy night in at B&L.