Josie- My paternal grandmother was also a member of the DAR—those women stick together. Even at her funeral the huge church overflowed with stalwart women.

I was wondering as watched if this were part of Queen Raina’s project. And there she is at the end. I’ve seen her in a number of venues in an effort to overcome stereotypes. But women in Baghdad before the invasion/occupation were professionals, were educated. Queen Raina seems angry now compared to 8 years ago. Can’t blame her. Jordan has a serious refugee problem from Iraq, as does Syria, and that takes capital away from their own people and infrastructure for small countries to be housing a sudden influx of 2.3 M people who have nothing left. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TFf897bUW2Y

Nearly always remember by long time habit of repeating name to myself, and it”s one of those ingrained habits. But with cell phone and speed dial, I no longer know any phone numbers by heart. Not best friends, my own mother’s or my child’s, not one of my siblings. None. Nor do I have an out fashioned phone book as back-up. If I were accidently deprogrammed I’d be out of luck.

The only time I made something up was in a jam-packed 727, last seat in the back next to window (when always get up front near door so extra leg room—-have horrible claustrophobia) when a huge man came and was going to sit next to me so I’d be trapped at the window. I got up as I said, “We’d better switch seats, I’ve been throwing up all day, and might have to dash for the bathroom.” Didn’t even feel bad for making it up, and didn’t give him a chance to think about it or say no.

Beautifully said and so true. Love the photo. Can remember first plane ride when maybe 3, my sister 2. TWA silver and red, linen and glassware, gracious and refined. My mother in a black swing coat, Veronica Lake hair, red lipstick, white gloves, black alligator bag and shoes. Now we have x-rays that see through our clothes. Ugh. Triple Ugh. I bookmarked Mary’s “NetJets.” When my son was 8 he wrote a letter to American Airlines asking what he needed to do to become a pilot. I said, oh by then it’ll be like cattle runs and all computerized so the pay will be zip. Did I had 20/20 or what?

Used to fly 150K miles a year so have a lot of stories. Here’s 3: 1) Gregory Peck-type, sonorous voice sat next to me from LAX-Dallas. I was in 20s, tanned, in a slim summer dress and high heeled sandals. He nodded out the window, ‘Which is your ranch?” We landed. He asked me to take his arm and act ‘cozy.’ At the gate, men in expensive suits were waiting for him. Their jaws dropped. He laughed. We all laughed. My shortest (only in my head) ‘affair.’ 2) LAX-JFK. 747. 7AM. My husband and I traded flying ‘war’ stories with the couple across the aisle as waited on the runway to take off. I was starved and wanted to get in the air for breakfast. Barreling down the runway just about the time anticipated lift-off the pilot slammed on the brakes. The plane careened and jerked dramatically, a few overheads burst open, carry-ons spilled down. A few screams, babies wailed. We taxied all the way back to start over. Could not believe (and still not) we would take off in same plane, but we did. Then the PA system didn’t work. Finally we were up. Airline food never tasted so good. We hadn’t cracked in half. Thanks for that “United.” We shared a limo into town with our fellow ‘survivors.’ 3) SFO-Charles de Gaulle. Stood last hrs of the flight in the back galley of 747 with a group having a gay old time. Landed. Grabbed a cab to hotel on Rue de Bac. Then walking across town to Avenue Foch and cut through the Tuileries when heard my name. It was two of my ‘galley’ friends. They went with me on my errand and then we walked to Rue Cler the ‘foodie’ street. They came once to SF and we all went to dinner at Cafe de la Presse. Trench coats, umbrellas, Yellow cabs, pouring rain. Electricity out for blocks so lots of candles and only cold food. But wine, a lot of French people hanging out. It seemed like Paris again. Lovely.

To start off I’d read “Rich Dad, Poor Dad” it’s out in paperback. Read “Money Magazine” every month. Join a local investment club….look at Meetup.com in your area, or on www.groups.yahoo.com Here’s a quick great primer “What Every Woman Should Know About Money” on Oprah.com….it’s fun and includes how to be financially independent within a decade. Jump in the learning and have fun.

If The Onion did wOw’s ‘Hair’ report: LA 83 degrees “Badass Hair day.”

“Evangelical physicists assert objects fall because a higher power pushes them down.” “Protest one person short of success.” “Project manager leaves suicide Powerpoint Presentation.” “Heaven Less Opulent Than Vatican, Reports Disappointed Pope.” “Onioned” again.

If I had a husband who had Steve Jobs’ technical know-how, Steven Speilberg’s creativity and marketing chutzpah, and the artistry of Stephen Sondheim. Sure, why not?

As long as people have vital thoughts and activities—they are young. Am never going to concern myself with age. Too many more important things, can’t change it, and lucky and grateful to be alive at any age.

I googled him, he is a psychiatrist.

Dear Dr. Klein, Re your “Clear as day once women got the vote the economy been run like it’s shop till you drop!” It’s George Bush whose remedy for national maladies is to go shopping. -After 911, as the Pentagon and the WTC still smoldered, Bush suggested we could all go shopping to fight terrorism. -The Washington Note Oct 12, 2004 headline was: George Bush: To beat terror, keep shopping! -At a December 2006 WH press conference, “I encourage you all to go shopping more.” -2008 economic stimulus checks…go shopping. GWB’s rhetorical fallback is, “Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask how much can you shop for your country.”

Linda Clark and Two Cents—The site monitor “The Duchess of Delete’s” has posted Ten Commandments of this site….I believe it was on the perfume topic. To paraphrase Eleanor Roosevelt—no one can ruffle you unless you give them that power. Why not ignore him and use your time and energy more productively?

I meant to add, because sounds male to me.