Ok, That’s it, I’m Out… 

Ok Republicans, that’s it, I’m OUT.

I am breaking up with you. It’s not me, it’s you. I was never really a full fledged member in the first place…

I grew up a Democrat, then became a Reagan Democrat, then became an independent contractor and then the first time I looked at THAT tax return I became a conservative.

Sort of. 

Anyway, for your party to let a dude with a bad spray tan, horrendous comb over, who’s on his third wife, who starred in a reality show with Gary Busey and Nene Leakes  and then went bankrupt multiple times to win these primaries and you can not bring anyone decent to the prom is ridiculous. 

Cruz? Hello that guy was definitely given swirlies in middle school.

Rubio? Napoleon complex. A little bratty.

Carson? Who needs Ambien  when you’ve got him-I mean for the most part he will bore our enemies to death so there’s that. 

Kasich? Who?

Jeb? You let him get to you – big mistake, BIG big mistake.

Christie? First of all , fire the doc that did your gastric bypass- really shitty job in my opinion…

It’s gotten so expensive and so contentious and so awful to run for the big house in this country none of the good people will do it. Your ego needs to be the size of Texas to run or Trump Tower. 

So Big Don, if you build that wall you know your golf courses and landscaping at your homes and businesses is gonna start looking pretty shitty. 

And I’d like to see you bully Putin. That ought to work out REALLY well for us. 

And do you have ANY idea how they will decorate the White House? It will make Kanye look likes he lives in Restoration Hardware. 

I used to be worried about your party and my uterus. I was becoming worried about your marriage and religious stances. But this guy? 

Now I know the GOP has lost its collective mind and obviously does NOT have the cohesiveness to put up a decent candidate. I mean Sarah Palin, really? 

I should have known then. 

Big Don is seriously messing with you. If you don’t think by November the party will be in shambles I have news for you. 

Republicans, Please PLEASE get some cojones- get him OUT. 

So I am done. I’m still a moderate. But I’m going to take my vote somewhere I’m treated like the somewhat educated person I am. 

American Idol.

Looking For A Miracle in Costco


Once in a while you can never pass up an opportunity to laugh at
with your mother.
Yesterday Mom and Dad went for their weekly scouting mission at Costco to stock up on cheap wine and lots of beef. Yes, they are in their late 70,s and still eat red meat and are healthier than ever.

Mom, being the fun young energetic silver sneaker chicklet that she is, happened upon the Miracle Suit at Costco. For a mere $39.95 this too can be the bathing suit of your dreams, they are typically over $100 each. So, sucked down the rabbit hole of eternal hope she took one home. With high expectaions she started pulling it on. And pulling, and pulling. With my Dad in the background making hilarious comments as this ensued. It is, after all, one of the reasons they’ve been married 50 plus years…

After 15 minutes of pulling, she gave up after only getting it past her calves and Dad threatening to call the fire department to cut her out of it. The miracle dashed, she was in tears, of laughter. After all, if mom told us that she broke her hip getting in to a bathing suit, it wouldn’t result in much empathy from us. I understand her pain. I bought one too. It’s still on the form in my closet and I think I’m gonna need one of those sweat wraps to get in to it. Miracle Suit = oxymoron.


That Solange can seriously open a can of whoop ass. This is one time I wished I worked security for a hotel. Six figures for the video. So I lose my job. Who cares, I’d be happily unemployed on a beach in St Tropez.

I don’t think I’ve EVER been that angry at one of my in laws. And yes, all families have issues and problems but I don’t hink I have ever gone all WWE on anyone in my family. There have been some times with the teenagers. Just goes to show that all the money in the music world can’t keep you from losing it in an elevator.

Baba Wawa retires from The View

Bummer. All I want to know is who does her face. I need that number. She’s like in her EIGHTIES.

Hillary Clinton on Walking Dead! Coming This Fall

According to Karl Rove, Hillary is making a guest appearance on TWD this fall. Surprise guest appearance. As Darryl’s Ivy League alcoholic redneck mom in flashbacks. Pant suits will never be the same. And that crazy Karl has been reported missing from the psych ward again…

Some of my favorite stories this week come from Lori Wescott of Loripalooza and Leslie Marinelli in LifeTime Moms. I think Lori and I live in the same hood, and prom-posals are getting ridiculous. What happened to the days when you were a teen girl waiting on THAT phone call from McDreamy that never came? We didn’t even have caller ID so at least we could have let that call from dork bait go to voice mail. So the guy who makes your skin crawl in biology shows up at your home with the marching band, Justin Timberlake and a truckload of roses and you say no?

The 24 hour date that lasts 23 hours and 55 minutes too long.

I’ll get back on the wagon with this blog-and I have started another one for my vintage linen and junk business called The Happy Flea so you can find me over there too!

An Open Letter To…


Lately, everybody and their underwear have been writing open letters to folks out there who are primarily a celebrity or in the public eye for some action or remark or whatever that we hear about on the interwebs.

It’s a fairly easy way for bloggers to get numbers on their sites. Especially if it’s done the same time as the purported event, or action that they did that pissed people off.

I wonder if they REALLY read them. Or even care about them. Or does their publicist read them then send the ones they like on, or make damn sure they DON’T read them.

So I decided I’ll just write an open letter to lots of these characters in hopes of truly whoring out my blog for numbers. All or nothin, right?  And this way I can get it all off my chest and move on with my life. Because I do lie awake at night and worry about these things…

First and foremost my butter bunny, bless her heart, Paula.

An Open Letter To Paula Deen:

Dear Paula,

Girl, you went and ugly cried on Matt Lauer. A true Southern Lady would have just said, “Ladies don’t talk about their past, it was tacky, I’m sorry, I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, and I’ve fired my PR people. Now, let’s have some sweet tea, a cigarette and talk about Martha Stewart’s sex life.”

Love MA



An Open Letter To Senator Wendy Davis:

Dear Wendy:

You rock. May I suggest Manolo Blahnik’s next time?

Love MA


An Open Letter To Edward Snowden:


Equador. Really??? They eat Guinea Pigs down there. And Hipsters. Have fun.

Love MA



An Open Letter to Kim Kardashian:

Just wait till she’s a teenager. Payback is hell.

Love MA



An Open Letter to Miley Cyrus:


You’ve gone from Disney cute to Snoop Dogg  dope. From kiddie show to camel toe. Just don’t toss a bong out your window.

Love MA



An Open Letter To People Who Oppose Gay Marriage:

Dear Hypocrites:

I’m fairly sure our declaration starts off with “We the People” not, “We, the Christians…”

Love MA


Ok, got that off my chest. Who’s your open letter to???



Don’t forget to share! And LIKE me over there on Facebook. I’m fun.






The Guilt Trip – Or I Guess I’ll Just Grow An Extra Toe

I just threw a plastic container in my garbage can. NOT the recycling can, the real, live, smells like rotten fruit, dog vomit, wiped up cat pee and coffee grinds-full GARBAGE CAN.

And now I will be going to recycling jail.


I just ate a bowl of fruit flavored Cheerios. You know, that evil Monsanto connected food product company General Mills? Yep, and I also had Triscuits (Nabisco) with Cracker Barrel Cheese (Kraft) and then a Lean Cuisine for dinner, a vodka martini with Ocean Spray, and a Cadbury bar for dessert.

Yep, Monsanto, Monsanto, Monsanto, Monsanto, Mon-freekin-Santo.

How am I supposed to eat? Me and my  family are a walking, talking ad for bad $hit in food and we are all still alive. We may have an extra toenail on the side of our feet, but dammit, Jim, we are still here.

When I separate the stuff on our kitchen counter to throw in the recycling bin that I pay EXTRA for, I know all of it goes all mushed together to some place where (for real ???) people with haz mat suits on separate every eensy teesny cup, bottle, paper, bag, ziplock, beer can, steel can and humongous plastic bottle at some facility on the south side of town.

Yeah, right.

I use energy. Oh yes, you electricity Nazi’s got many many good years out of me not worrying about how hot or cold I was and the temperature is just fine thank you in my house. NOT NOW. I am 53, and this summer put a turbo charger on that AC unit because it is gonna be 70 degrees or cooler in my house. Or else my (gasp) grocery store bought makeup will be running down my face at every degree over 70.

I eat red meat. Big juicy steaks, with loaded baked potatoes-don’t forget the sour cream and bacon. My husband’s favorite meal is country fried steak, which I cook in reserved bacon fat. Yep, the real deal. With a hearty glass of red wine. And cheesecake for dessert.

I found myself at a standstill recently because I want to do the right thing. But for who? Me? The environment? My family? The world?

And I can’t do it anymore. I was spending too much time worrying about what I was going to buy at the grocery store that I was getting paralyzed by the lack of choices and freaking about the frankenfood I was feeding my family. I was separating everything on my kitchen counters before I tossed it in that bin — my counters were so full of plastic bottles, cans, wrappers, small boxes that if the Hoarders folks showed up the cameras would have started rolling. I wasn’t getting enough sleep at night due to sweating (flashing and just being plain old hot) that I was a walking menopause zombie during the day. Looking to eat small children as appetizers.


Then I woke up from my guilt induced haze and said, ‘Screw. It.’

Boy that is a freeing moment.

And yes, the whole GMO thing is bad. Very, very bad. I agree that we should not be eating or promoting this kind of food engineering. But you tell me what is going to happen when all of these companies that are trying to feed 200 million Americans try to keep their products safe from bugs, be plentiful, and cheap. If you think of a solution let me know.

And we recycle. As best we can. But I am no longer going to lose a moment of cool sleep worrying about that plastic water bottle I tossed in the garbage at the Mall. Or that Starbucks coffee cup that had that $4 latte in it.

And I’m done feeling guilty about it. I do the best I can for my little family. I donate food to the poor (Sorry, it’s GMO…), I give my time to charities, we do Meatless Mondays in our house. I do what I can. And I refuse to make OTHERS feel guilty about it either.

We can change the world. But it happens in baby steps. One person at a time in their own way. I’m going to just let it go and not worry about it.

Any. More.

After I finish this Quarter Pounder with Cheese Meal.


Sounds so much more delicious in French…

I Hope To Be Getting a Divorce. This Week.

I am hoping that sometime this week I will be getting a divorce.

Yes, you heard that right.

I am hoping that some smart people will prevail and allow my gay husband to marry the love of his life and I am willing to let him go.


We have only been together about 2 and a half years. Two and a half wonderful years filled with fun lunches, photo shoots, shopping and laughs. We met in a photography class. I picked him up to go shoot in a historic cemetery here in Atlanta and it was love at first sight. Or should I say, snarky comment at first quip…

I had found my long-lost identical twin brother separated at birth.  We laughed, we cried, it was better than CATS.

He even introduced me to the fun-filled ah, er, ‘fashion’ side of Atlanta and the perils of shooting half-naked (and hot) models in abandoned Atlanta factories. And how NOT to get arrested by APD.

If the supposedly bright minds up in the quintessential ivory tower that is the Supreme Court really get the fact that Love is Love, that it does not matter what is on the outside, or who it is that you want to share your life, then I will be happily handing my former husband to his partner of over 25 years for good.

You may kiss the groom.

This will not destroy the sanction of what we call traditional marriage.  Over 50% of heterosexual couples get divorced. Blah blah blah. Yessiree, we are a shining example.

I am probably going to cause some anxiety out there amongst my closest friends and family. You know what?  I really don’t care because at the end of the day, it doesn’t affect YOU. Or me.

If any two PEOPLE are committed in a legal relationship ,then they should be afforded the same rights as anyone else. Simple concept. We need to focus on feeding the hungry in OUR nation and educating OUR kids.

Love is love.

It’s the right thing to do.

Who Needs an Elf When You Have Teenagers?

I was remarking the other day about how happy I was that I missed the whole Elf on the Shelf crap by a couple of years.

I spoke too soon.

Who needs an Elf when you have Teenagers?

After a lovely wine induced sleep last night I slowly emerged from my cocoon and walked downstairs to start my morning ritual of picking up dog poop on my expensive wool dining room rug and fixing a cup of coffee.  As I entered the kitchen that I left relatively picked up last night, I was greeted by this scene:

Hoarders-Teen Edition...
Hoarders-Teen Edition…

What looks like a frat house kitchen after an SEC win was created by two teenagers last night.

I can’t show you the sink.  I have boundaries.

1 large Chicago style pizza eaten by 2 – yes 2 teens, cans of soda, a box of Cheezits, Trix cereal, ice cream,tortilla chips,  and an empty bag of MY milky way dark chocolates! HOW DARE THEY!!!

As they go from cute tweens to full on teen they lose the ability to put things in places that you provide for them.  Like dishwashers, sinks, trash cans and washing machines.  Oh, they can do a molecular conversion in chemistry, they can figure out parallelograms in algebra, they can win the state Lacrosse championship, but they CANNOT find the motherfuckin’ trashcan!

We cut them slack because science tells us that they brains are not formed until the age of 24.  And we are so concerned about their self-esteem, their performance in school, their SAT scores that we forget to remind them that even they have a BASIC responsibility to live like a human being and respect their environments. Like the one that me and her dad have worked so hard to provide with the designer clothes, UGG boots, Juicy purse and nice home.  With a pool.

As I remember-there is no college course on how to hire a cleaning lady.  But there ARE colleges that you can pay to have their laundry done. Seriously, and pay for maid service.

Uh, NO.  Any parent that pays for that should be arrested.  You should be put away in a prison that makes you do teenage laundry and fish thong underwear out of the bottom of the washer for the rest of your natural born life.

Who thought of this Elf doing cute messy shit and tricks in your home at night anyway? I  hear she lives here in Atlanta – if she was smart she better move because I am going to send some teenagers to HER house to spend the night and trash HER kitchen.elf on a shelf drinking syrup

Heh, heh, we will see who is laughing all the way to the bank now…

WTF Wednesday – It’s the Uniform

Military uniforms make our clothes fall off.

I firmly believe that man’s great est weapon to conquer the female is the military uniform. Once a man dons that garment, all of our rational thoughts fly right out the window and we become stupid, giddy, sweaty, and compliant. We just want to rip his clothes off, jump his bones and claim him like a prized trophy.

Which, if you are a guy, and lonely, I would suggest signing up for the reserves.  You get a uniform and you will get a girl.  And if you become an officer even better. And are head of the CIA or on the Joint Chiefs of StaffJACKPOT!

In what other life does a skinny, pointy nosed army dude get a girl like that?  Okay ,she went to West Point. I get it.  That’s lots of uniforms.  Every day. In college.

Be still my heart.

When I met BC (the hubs) he was just out of the Air Force and recently employed by a major airline.  We met on a blind date. Initially, I was not too jazzed about this date because I have cousins who are Navy pilots.  When one of them came to visit me on leave during my single days, I practically had to have him hauled off to jail to get him to leave. He drank all my booze and hit on every one of my girlfriends. He was like a caged animal freed by PETA.

So the thought of going out on a DATE with a former military pilot was giving me major doubts about my evening.  I even dragged along a girlfriend as a way out if he turned out to be a douche (we didn’t have texting then-dark ages, you know..).  At 4am he brought me back to my apartment. I got drunk, told dirty jokes, and smoked cigarettes.  We were engaged 4 months later.

Remember, Top Gun had just come out.  We still thought Tom Cruise was HOT and SANE.  And BC had a recorded VHS tape of him flying a military jet with a buddy and all the fun, daring moves they made in that jet.  Sealed the deal.  No more med students, no more law students, no more stockbrokers.  I had me a MILITARY MAN !


About 10 minutes into that video I was toast.  In my case, I married one of the most ethical men I could ever meet.  Break a rule? Are you serious? Once when we were first married we were grocery shopping and in the cart was a bag of pretzels.  So me, being hungry, opened it right then and there and grabbed a handful.  I thought we was going to have a stroke.

BC:  WHAT are you DOING?

ME:  Eating pretzels, why?

BC:  But we haven’t PAID for them yet!

All the girls love a Man In Uniform-Even Barbie @me

Me:  But we WILL, duh…..

We had to check out then and there.  God forbid I shoot through a yellow light when he is in the car.

And I have lowered my traditional southern college educated woman values by accepting polyester.  And his clip on tie. But it’s a uniform.

His flight suit is still in the closet.  So is his helmet and air mask.  Oh, and his airline uniform.

Works every time.

I Almost Killed Deborah Norville for her Shoes….

Photo by Julie DeNeen

Faizul drove me back to La Guardia today.  He is in his second year of physician’s assistant school at St. Johns in Queens and driving a cab to make extra money. We had a great conversation-the guy that picked me up yesterday could barely speak a word of English.  Yet Faizul, born in Bangladesh and living here for most of his 20 plus years, was a pleasure to meet and got me quickly out of NYC before a nor’easter crept in to further paralyze an already hurting tri-state area.  He’s what our country is all about.

I was in Manhattan along with some other fun bloggers I meet through Julie DeNeen to appear on Anderson Cooper Live and tweet about the show.  After I arrived at my hotel, Julie texted me and suggested we meet at Carmines on Broadway for dinner with Kelly of and Melanie of

Even though I had not personally met these girls except for online as bloggers, it seemed like we had been friends for years-having drinks and calamari at Carmines and laughing about the trials and tribulations of being a writer and blogger.  Maybe one day I will be proposed to by a secret blog admirer, like Melanie…Jealous!

Today we gathered at 7am in the ACLive version of the green room for regular peeps. It was kinda green. And no champagne, or red M&M’s. We received our marching orders and signed over our first-born children and were assigned to live tweet during the show, in which our tweets would be on TV and on a huge screen in the studio (filter time lol).  We were going to be asked various questions about how the election was going in our blogging world but because of time restraints and content, they weren’t able to get to us.  Hey, that’s okay-I got my pic with my new BFF Deborah Norville and met the Obama Hugger Dude!

We were given some tips about being on camera:

1. Try not to touch your face or chat too much with your neighbor because the whole freekin place is miked and whatever you are say,everyone can hear

2. Take off coats, extra clothing etc.–the less clothing you have one, the thinner you look.  Except not naked. Not allowed.

3.  TV studios are freezing ass cold.  Hot flash? What hot flash? Hard to tweet when your hands are numb…

4. Deborah Norville had a sweet pair of Louboutins on, I almost tripped her and ran out the door with them.

5.  The young, un-jaded assistants are bright, cheery, helpful and fun.  And they all wear those Old Navy headsets.  I want one.

6. The show was done in real time-and went incredibly fast.  No bathroom breaks. Sooooo glad I only had one cup of coffee before it started…

Looking really interested in the show…thinking of shoes

7. Anderson Cooper is very personable. And in front of us ate some awesome looking cupcake during a commercial break.  And he is still skinny. Life isn’t fair.

8. They asked who would dance for an AC t-shirt, so, of course, I volunteered.  I did the sprinkler and the spastic chicken dance.  The girl who danced like she forgot her pole got the shirt. Bitch.

9.  @OneFunnyMotha can flat out tweet like a mad woman. Shes a mastertweeter…

Because of the weather, I raced to the airport and got out before they cancelled the rest of the flights.  I am still recovering from my whirlwind trip.

So glad the election is over, so sad I had to leave without photo-bombing Hoda and Kathi Lee.

Soon, people, very soon…

We are BFF’s now

Watch Out ‘Merica – The Mermaid’s Gonna Be On TV!

Oh, the power of twitter. And the power of that addiction.

I joined twitter in its infancy because, as a supposedly high-tech real estate agent, I was told to. I totally did NOT get it. And neither did a lot of other folks.

Since the time of its inception in 2005, millions of people have embraced the power of this little weird social media platform and have made money, met wonderful people and most of all, made cool new friends. I got back on twitter mainly to stalk my teenager a year ago.  Then I started blogging and met people who really engage and wanted to get to know me. Fancy that.

So it was through twitter that one of my peeps asked us if any of us mom bloggers lived near NYC. And of course, sensing an opportunity to meet new cool bloggers, a party, or perhaps, a starring role on One Life to Live, I replied – I live in Atlanta but I can fly for free!

So on Wednesday I am going to be on Anderson Cooper Live talking about the results of the election with an audience of other bloggers. It is in a town hall format. And I will have to bring the biggest filter I have because some of you really know me!

One of the producers sent me a questionnaire on my views (uh, oh) and needed a photo. And since I am an independent I will most likely be outed during this show. Uh oh again. Bring on the Xanax…

And it also got me thinking–I have been relatively quiet politically this election.  Mostly because it is mentally exhausting, dividing our country, and with my latent insecurities and tendency to want to make everybody like me, I just stay quiet.  I refuse to lose friends, customers and readers over who should be our leader.  I was a political science major in college. Mostly because I loved the department and the discussions over coffee and cigarettes that we had in the 80’s.  Prepared me to be a GREAT salesperson.  I even worked on the Carter campaign.  I interned for a Republican Senator my junior year in DC.  I met some really cool people.  But after 6 weeks in DC, I knew that track was NOT what I wanted to do when I grew up.

Shiny objects.  Anyway-if I do get asked a question, don’t hate me for my answer.

To me, this is not a one issue race. To a lot of others it is. And that is fine with me.  The one thing we really need to remember is that we CAN vote.

Signed autographs will be available Thursday.

OH OH I almost forgot-we will be able to post and live tweet during the show in the morning so follow me at @hellomap!

Why the Mayor of Newark Restored My Faith in Politicians

There are some good ones out there. You just have to look for them.


And it’s too bad that it sometimes takes a disaster like Sandy to bring attention to these people when they have been doing their job all along.

Which is why Corey Booker, the mayor of Newark, NJ, has restored my faith in politicians. Like I tweeted last night-Dude needs a cape.  And a drink.

He let victims of Sandy crash at his house. He tweets help to his citizens.  And he is also pretty good lookin…

I am an independent. I look at all the facts and then decide what is best going to fit for my family and business, as well as my value system. And I have learned, over time, starting as a Democrat, then a Reagan Democrat,then a Conservative, now an Independent,  that as you age and as you have various careers and life experience, those views can change.

The fact that Mayor Booker has been working his ass off for his constituents and using social media to connect, communicate and really help them amazes me. While other politicians would sit in their ivory towers and pontificate on the disaster, he is getting his hands dirty and truly SERVING his people. He is one big bowl of awesomeness.

Chris Christie, the Governor of Jersey, is doing the same. While he might be a controversial politician to some, he tells it like it is and gets it done.

One is a Democrat, one is a Republican.  But in the end, we are all just people.

And they are helping their PEOPLE, party or not.

Go Corey-Go Christie-Go everybody who puts their constituents needs before their own.  There are not too many of those folks out there anymore.