Chains & Potlucks

Something I wanted to mention today is that I DON'T eat at chains. (I should have included that in my "You Are WHERE You Eat" post a few weeks ago.) You and I both know that food doesn't taste the same once there's a second location or worse, a franchise. Food trucks are different because they're just moving into a permanent spot without wheels. So the food quality doesn't go downhill (again, until they open that second location). 

Speaking of food, don't even get me started on POTLUCKS. Ugh. I stopped going to any events (baby showers, church parties or neighborhood shin digs) years ago where more than one person (especially an amateur who isn't still in debt from culinary art school) provided the food. You can't trust any food that was prepared on a tile counter, formica counter or outdated granite countertops. Who knows what kind of bacteria is living in that tile grout, on the surface of the formica or has seeped into any unsealed granite slab?

In general, to avoid getting sick and wanting to FEEL BETTER both physically and mentally, meals prepped in professional kitchens, cooked in really nice restaurants or made by your personal chef are the safest and cleanest ways to eat.

When Lifes Gives You LuluLemons...

"When Life Gives You LuLuLemons, Have Some LuluLemonade."

(If you are reading this on your phone, look at the Desktop version so you can see the YouTube link I embedded for the music video.)

I recently heard Angela, on American Housewife, sing that in the Musical episode. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE that song sooo much! I watch that show to identify with those Westport housewives. I know how stressful it is to always look perfect, have everything together and have an immaculately clean house (thanks to your staff). I LOVED their song to that frump mom and have now adapted it to the West Coast for my theme song (minus the mom and kids stuff). 

GO FULL NEWPORT!

A Gated Community

If people are honest with themselves, gated communities are NOT for security reasons. It's for the prestige. Some people have told me they think gates are a false sense of security, and I 100% agree with them. Anyone can still sneak past a gate. Why I live in a gated community is for the WOW! factor. I want WOWs all along the path to my house from people who have never been there before.

#1: Pull up to the guard station: Wow!

#2: Drive through the FIRST gate: Wow!

#3: Drive past the water fountains, clubhouse, pools, and tennis courts: Wow!

#4: Drive up to the second guard station (my house): Wow!

#5: Drive through MY gate: Wow!

#6: Drive up my driveway and see my home in all its glory even before walking inside: Wow!

Now THAT'S why I live in a gated community -- it's an easy, daily way to keep feeling good about your life.

A "Cute Meat"

After posting a little about my hubby's job, some of my new readers have asked what I do or did before becoming a stay-at-home wife. I'm so happy to share! I used to be a freelance food stylist. I still take occasional jobs depending on how many miles I have left on my lease to drive back-and-forth to LA. I worked for some BIG and POSH brands (can't be named here due to contracts I signed long ago). It was a blast. 

One funny story: Years ago, I was working on the set of a steak commercial. My assistant called in sick that day, so I had to sear a half dozen steaks ON MY OWN to get them looking really plump and juicy -- just the way the director wanted them before the butter, sour cream and chives went on. It was SO stressful. I usually only did the staging and styling, NOT the actual food prep grunt work. 

The steaks weren't searing the way I wanted, so I ran them to a nearby grill outside in Craft Services on the backlot. It had rained the day before. As I was running outside with a hot plate of steaks, I didn't see the puddle right outside the studio door and went hydroplaning. The steaks went flying into the air and I fell back fast like a Michael Jackson moon walk gone bad. Like really bad. There was a woman from Craft Services standing nearby who tried to catch the airborne hunks of cow. She tried to deflect them, using her forearms like a volleyball player, before they all landed on the wet asphalt. It was devastating and my work was RUINED.

The poor lady's arms had second-degree burns from hot meat and olive oil. I felt so badly that I personally walked her to First Aid to get help. She was out of work for weeks, but we laugh about it now. That's how I met Terri, my SYANM committee Treasurer. She only wears long sleeve shirts these days. And that's why she's so passionate about organic peanut butter. She used it daily after that tragic day to help soothe her burns. 

Speaking of studios and backlots... If you've ever studied the formula for a rom com, a "cute meet" is when the couple first meets in the story. (Now my title for this post will make more sense. HA!) I don't know about you, but hearing about other people's misfortunes (like Terri in this post) ALWAYS makes me FEEL BETTER.

Public Restrooms

Public Service Announcement: I would rather die than use a public bathroom. The only exception I make is unless I'm at a really nice restaurant, and know their facilities are squeaky clean. Otherwise, NO. 

There's nothing that will make you FEEL BETTER about your stressed or depressed life by using public facilities, especially ones that don't have someone in there handing you a REAL hand towel to dry your hands.

Email from PeaNUTTY Mom

I have been SO tired this weekend after watching everyone work at our event this past Friday. Seeing the caterer's staff unloading their vans, setting up, making sandwiches, cleaning up, and packing up their stuff was EXHAUSTING! 

While sitting pool-side at home recovering on this afternoon, I got an email from a parent whose nanny was apparently at this year's "Peanut Butter and Jealous." (Don't worry. The witchy mom gave me permission to post this:)

"My kindergartener was handed one of your peanut butter sandwiches two days ago, and we are STILL at the hospital. His nanny called me while I was in my aerobics class. She was frantic. He has a peanut allergy, gluten allergy, is forbidden to eat anything with sodium benzoate (the jelly), and drank a cup of 1% milk with his lactose intolerance! Your so-called 'organization' should have to pay for my son's ER visit!!!"

A few things I thought after reading this:

1. Where was the nanny? On her phone?

2. How are we supposed to know EVERY. SINGLE. food allergy or rule for EVERY kid of what they can/can't eat?!

3. Why is that mom in an aerobics class? She should be taking the spin class I'm in. It is sooo good!

Know Your Costco

One of the best pieces of advice I have ever given is this: “Know Your Costco.”

I tell ALL of my Kirkland-lovin’ friends who have personal shoppers. I tell all mine too when they start. I live between two Costcos. One is a swanky Costco in a really nice area (like one of the wealthiest cities per capita in the state of California) and the other is in a not-as-wealthy area that feels like a third world country. I usually make my personal shopper go to the third world country one. That way, I can go to the swanky one just to browse when I feel like it without the possibility of running into my staff.

The reason it’s important for your shopper to be really familiar with their Costco is because Costco is always moving their merchandise around. You don’t want to be paying for someone to get lost, but for someone who has a set route.

I heard my FIJI water recently got relocated to RIGHT next to the baby wipes and dipes. HUH? I heard it’s basically in a cave in the very back of the third world country Costco. The constant relocating used to stress me out, so I outsourced it long ago to dodge further PTSD (Post-Traumatic Shopping Disorder, another kind of PTSD believe it or not).

If you haven’t already staffed up at your house, get a personal shopper FIRST. It will make you FEEL soooo much BETTER not having to worry about any of that.

6th Annual "Peanut Butter and Jealous"

The 6th Annual "Peanut Butter and Jealous" was a hit! (Like the new the logo from this year's event? My personal graphic designer, who works at the Met, designed it. No, the knife does NOT look like a pregnancy test with peanut butter on it!) The committee all wore new T-shirts this year with this logo and we gave them to our caterer’s staff to wear too. Although, for some reason, most of the catering staff refused.

PAUSE: I got a few emails yesterday from some confused readers. They wanted to know why we were buying a lot of the supplies if we were having a caterer. Good question! In the past, vendors have donated to our cause (see previous posts about that). We only use the caterer to actually make the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on-site. The committee doesn’t do any of the manual labor. We make ourselves available for the press, live social media updates and on-site counseling for kids who might be confused why we’re trying to help.

After all that pop-up tent stress yesterday and it didn't even rain. Hallelujah! We used the 50 pop-up tents anyway. We shielded most of the 1,000 public school kids (not sure of the exact number, but it felt like that) from 4:00 p.m. destructive UV ray exposure. Someday, their aging, but wrinkle-free skin will thank us.

I have soooo many pics from this event, but the parents of these Ladera Ranch kids never let me post them on our nonprofit's website. I don't get it. First, those parents already make their kids attend public school (which is exactly why we do this event in the first place) and second, some of the parents' plastic surgeries actually look pretty good. If they're going to be at the event, why wouldn't they want to show off their doctors’ work and help refer more patients?

As usual, we had a fabulous turnout. No, Terri did NOT get her wish granted for organic peanut butter this year. (My budget was generous, but not that generous.) As I was standing by the sandwich tables and observing my surroundings (the houses in the low 700s, cars, lawns, outfits, shoes and backpacks), I thought to myself, “Why do people live like this?” Then I looked at the parents standing on their driveways or working in their garages and thought to myself (this time in even more disbelief), “If you don't have it all together, at least make it LOOK like you do to give your kids a fighting chance in this world." Seriously. I can't keep doing these events forever to make-up for what these parents in lower tax brackets haven't done for their kids.

If you’re one of the parents who watched from your driveway today and want to FEEL BETTER about your current economic status, here’s a tip: If you don't have it in the bank right now, it's called a LOAN (or take out a second mortgage, people).

Money CAN Buy Happiness

Contrary to popular belief, money CAN buy happiness. You can FEEL BETTER by knowing it's much more comfortable to cry...

1. in a Tesla than on a bicycle.

2. while lounging pool-side at an ocean-front resort.

3. eating a croissant at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

4. during highlights (and therapy) in your hairdresser's chair.

That's about all I have in me today. I'm STRESSED to the MAX today. Tomorrow is our "Peanut Butter and Jealous" event and it's RAINING! It's raining right now as I write this and it's supposed to rain tomorrow too. It's MAY in Southern California!? It doesn't EVER rain in May. We're usually in another drought by now. Now our caterer has to round up as many pop-up tents as he can find from every rental company around before 5:00 p.m. today.

Hater Stater

Yesterday my SYANM treasurer, Terri and I were out shopping for this Friday's big event. Yes, we had to break down and actually BUY a lot of our own supplies this year. SAD!

Btw, I still have not given in to Terri's organic peanut butter request and especially not now when we have all of these unexpected expenses. Speaking of which, we decided to drive right past our neighborhood Bristol Farms and find a grocery store in a not-so-nice part of town to help cut costs.

As we approached an unfamiliar grocery store in a neighborhood with only one-story homes, 

Terri blurted out, "I hate that grocery store!"

ME: "Wait, what?! Have you driven over here before? WHY?"

TERRI: "Because I do."

ME: "Because why?"

TERRI: "Because ... [long pause for like five seconds] because I just do."

I know "hate" is a strong word and we're supposed to love everyone and everything, BUT I'm talking about "hate" in terms of "it bugs" or "it's gross." If you're going to throw out "I hate..." make sure you back it up ASAP with your WHY. Otherwise, it's too open-ended. This has ALWAYS been a big pet peeve of mine. In this case, Terri totally violated my first rule of a "hater stater" (or statement, but "stater" sounds better and rhymes).

For instance, "I hate that grocery store because it's not Bristol Farms or Gelsons." See? I'm not messing around. Declare and beware! People will definitely know WHERE YOU STAND when you speak your mind. They won't fight you either as long as you BACK IT UP ASAP. 

**Speaking up with your strong, declarative statements ("staters") will always make you FEEL BETTER, and help you gain respect fast from those around you. I challenge you to try this.**

A few more examples (practice with a friend):

"I hate that chandelier because it looks gothic."

"I hated Fast and Furious because it had no plot."

"I hate my new Director of Housekeeping at home because her maids don't iron my sheets anymore."

See? It's not that hard. Go get 'em!

What Stresses You Out?

First off, I'm STRESSED that I can't left-justify this sentence. 

I've clicked on the justification button multiple times to switch it back, but it's NOT working!!

Oh well. I'll have to leave the rest of this post centered. Moving on...

I'M STRESSED...

...because all of my shows are ending for the season. I won't remember what happened 

in the season finales in May when they finally start up again next September.

...because I still haven't found THE swimsuit of the summer that will be sure to flatter my figure and impress everyone at my pool parties.

...because of the helium shortage and now my friends having babies won't able to do the 

gender reveal confetti balloons at their gender reveal parties.

...for Kim Kardashian's fourth baby. "Psalm" is forever going to have his name misspelled 

or mispronounced. Why the silent P?

...for the stressed Target customers who can't buy any of the already-out-of-stock Vineyard Vines collection. It must be stressful for them having to buy a discounted version! 

This is a safe space. Now let's have a group conversation. Just let it all out and share with us. 

It will make you FEEL BETTER when you read others' daily stresses. 

This is a very loaded and fueled question...

WHAT STRESSES YOU OUT?

Brownie Points for Busy

I can’t even tell you how busy I’ve been lately. (Btw, Abby’s brownie trifle from last weekend inspired the title of this post.) No one is as busy as I am. NO ONE. The amount of over-programming I do is INSANE. In fact, I will challenge any of my readers out there to see if they are busier than ME. 

My therapist said it’s not healthy to be so slammed all the time. She thinks I’m hiding behind my fears and pain or overcompensating for something, but I don’t buy it. I like to schedule every minute of my every day so people know I don't have anxiety (I'm out-and-about), and don't have any marital problems (honestly, marriage is one of the easiest things I've ever done). Having people know all of these things makes me FEEL BETTER (and it can for YOU too).

I’m a busy housewife who manages an in-house staff on our primary property. Some days, it's so overwhelming with how much I have to delegate for others to work. 

Ooh! That reminds me. I have to finish this post so I can text my "Birthday and Wedding Gifts Coordinator." She's at Crate & Barrel Kids right now picking up this adorable Palm Springs Playhouse for my five-year-old niece's birthday next month. I want to make sure she picks up a few accessories to go with it, so my sister doesn't accuse me again of "skimping."

B-Ball Brock

I've already gotten a few emails from new readers who want to know more about my husband. More specifically, what he does that enables me to be a housewife full-time in a dual-income area.

Brock is an orthopaedic surgeon (or “orthopod” in his field's lingo). He decided on that specialty in med school. One weekend as a second year med student, he attended an NBA Finals game sitting courtside, of course. During the second quarter, he raised both arms to cheer -- forearms facing the court -- when the ball and a seven-foot-plus player randomly fell into him. BOTH of his arms snapped simultaneously. 

(**LEGAL NOTE: The team and player can’t be mentioned since some litigation is still pending, but let's just say Jack Nicholson wasn't sitting too far away.**)

Brocky had both of his arms in casts for eight weeks and had to finish that year of med school via Skype.

Since that freak accident, he has made it his life mission to educate basketball fans who can afford to sit courtside. He created a two-day pre-game seminar on courtside safety called "NB A-Level." 

He teaches at arenas all over the country during the season. (Then back at his regular practice during the off-season.) He trains fans, including A-list celebrities, who may be unaware of the risks (getting hit/hurt) and responsibilities sitting that closely (things like taking enough selfies, always looking camera-ready for the scoreboard, and the easiest foods to put down quickly to avoid any sudden collisions).

Seriously, I'm grateful he works SO hard. It always makes me FEEL BETTER knowing we can pay cash for anything depending on what kind of shopping mood I'm in.

Pastry Potluck

I got invited to my first "Pastry Potluck" last night with some new girlfriends from my spin class. I've heard of Cookie Exchange nights before (where you go home with a plate full of gross cookies you would never show up with to share much less eat). I didn't know what to expect, but thought I could go FEEL BETTER after a hard day at the spa. 

This was new for me. The invitation said to bake a dessert and bring enough recipe cards to share with the group. So I did just that. I gave my pastry chef the night off and I personally cropped and mounted recipe cards for my gluten-free, dairy-free, nut-free, sugar-free, carb-free, butter-free, lard-free, vegan-friendly, Paleo/Whole 30/Keto-approved contribution.

I took my treat and cards over to this girl, Abby's house and was ready to proudly present my work. The hostess made it seem like, at least in her Evite, that she was going to demo her recipe first and then we would take turns showcasing our recipes.

NO ONE else except for ME brought something. Was I going to have to split the time with just Abby? Oh wait! One girl showed up with a frozen roll of cookie dough. Not even on a rose gold Williams-Sonoma baking pan. Just in her hand waving it around like a giant PROZAC pill. Seriously? I don't care how many kids she has, how long her commute is, that her husband is out of work and she's had to get a second job. I was so embarrassed for her.

The night dragged on with Abby's Chocolate Brownie Trifle. For starters, why would she call it a "Pastry Potluck" and not even show us how to make a pastry? Second, how hard is it to put layers in a pedestal bowl? Then she didn't even ask me to present after going to all of that trouble. In fact, I don't think she even looked at what I brought.

We sat around Abby's kitchen and I watched as most of the women were eating her trifle, and gushing over her organic ingredients and made-from-scratch brownies. (Get this: I had to sit at an IKEA table style that came out when the Winter Olympics were in Sochi.) After I had seen enough, I stood up, grabbed my Harry and David basket with my goodies, and said my goodbyes before heading home.

I guess my carefully sealed and puffy decorated food-grade bags of AIR can now go to my friends in my hot yoga class.

"Peanut Butter and Jealous" Update

I'm super busy finalizing the details of "Peanut Butter and Jealous" which is ONE week from today. PB & J came up super fast this year. We've been having some pushback lately (and for the first time) from some of our suppliers. They're now saying they don't want to donate to our cause again, and think we're not a "real" charity. 

Sorry You Are Not Me is a registered 501(c) (3)! What a nightmare. Don't these businesses see how we are helping children in Ladera Ranch FEEL BETTER about their parents' poor decisions of enrolling them in public school? We're only helping these kids rise above and realize they can still have a fighting chance in the world. What is not charitable about that?! I am literally ready to jump off of a school lunch table next Friday and yell at everyone who cannot see the good in this world anymore. #SoStressed

More Fan Mail

I got more fan mail! Another message through my Contact Form from my next door neighbor, but STILL! She gave me permission again to post it:

"Love, love, love your blog. Need humor in my life and your writing style is so entertaining. Please continue as this is my daily 'pick me up' (replacement for Diet Pepsi)."

Two Things:

1. This makes me SO happy.

2. This blog was not intended to be humorous and entertaining, but more of a stress relief if I can't get to a yoga studio or pound cake to deal with this stress called life. I'm glad this can help her FEEL BETTER though, and help wean her from the daily DP.

Mother's Day Gala Debrief

It's been three days already and I still haven't shared anything about my Mother's Day Gala this year. So sorry!

It was amazing, of course. Not a single detail went undone or unnoticed by all of my local Instagram followers who attended -- online -- since I posted that if anyone drove anything older than a 2018 (including ride share services), they couldn't park or drop-off in my neighborhood and especially not in front of my house. 

So to make them FEEL BETTER, I invited them to attend a live Facebook feed instead. In the flesh, it was me, my next door neighbor (the one who sent my first fan mail), husband, mother, and 57 Hollywood extras I shuttled in for the night. 

It was a BLAST. At one point, I looked around and saw the fruits of my personal event planner's labor: Months of planning, shipping party goods in from out-of-state and the speeches she wrote for the extras to deliver about how I mother those around me. 

BIG SIDE NOTE: Before we got married, Brock (first mention of my husband) and I decided NOT to have kids. We weren't done being selfish and thought our lives would be more fulfilling focusing on something else like careers. We knew that way we could definitely get the public accolades we deserved.

For the first time ever since starting this event, I thought to myself at the end of the night, "Maybe I could be an amazingly talented actual MOM? Like the stay-at-home, pretend you're always busy and exhausted MOM? But then who would pick up my morning Starbucks and write me glowing performance reviews?"

iHave an iPhone

If I didn't have my iPhone, I think I would die. Seriously. It's honestly a blur what happened in my life beforehand. I'll never forget walking right in the door at AT&T passing everyone who had waited in line overnight (silly) to buy my first iPhone on June 29, 2007. One of the GREATEST days of my life (minus people outside yelling at me for some reason). 

I told my boss MONTHS in advance I was going to be out that day. I was responsible and planned ahead. How did he not understand I wasn't making up my sick day? I repeatedly told him (and later the HR department), "It's going to be a SICK (aka cool, awesome, totally epic) day getting my iPhone." I didn't need that job anyway.

A quick tip for FEELING BETTER? Always make sure you have the latest iPhone, have a really nice case, and make sure everywhere you go people see you using it.

Sent from my iPhone

"I'm so great ... I'm jealous of myself!" -Meryl

Home Sweet Only Home

So after Amelia's baby shower last Saturday, I happened to see her Facebook status on Mother's Day: "Got a Mima Xari stroller at my shower yesterday, but wish I would've gotten flowers delivered to ME too."

Rather than letting it ruin our "She's the only one I go to Pottery Barn with" friendship, I thought it would be nice to personally deliver a bouquet of flowers to make her FEEL BETTER. She doesn't live too far from me, but is in a really dinky, old house (about 3,000 square feet and built in the early 00s).

When she answered the door, I said, "Hi Amelia. I saw your status and thought I'd personally bring these by."

I handed her the bouquet of flowers I had my florist drop off at my house. She thanked me and invited me in to visit. I wasn't planning to stay, but thought it might be the perfect opportunity to scope out her house. I stepped into the family room and immediately blurted out: "Amelia! Wow, I must say, I really admire you for having the courage to have floral couches in your house."

She immediately started talking about how she and her hubby were saving up for a beach house.

ME: "So you're buying a new vacation home?"

HER: "No, we don't own a beach house. We just want to rent one for vacation."

ME: "Wait, so what other properties do you own then?"

HER: "Just this one."

She only has ONE home?! Where does she go for the winter? Then I felt REALLY bad for her, like really bad. I should have had my florist drop off TWO bouquets.

Big, Really Nice and Clean

Big, really nice and clean. Three words to always remember when working to make your house guests feel comfortable in your home. I would write more, but am so busy supervising my cleaning and set-up crews right now in preparation for my annual Mother's Day Gala in our home this evening.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers, grandmothers, surrogate mothers, aunts, and women who have ever mothered another out there!

P.S. - I have only been blogging for a few days now and already received my first fan mail!! I got permission from my next door neighbor to post her message:

"You are an inspiration to me. How wonderful you have your blog to release your frustrations. I can completely identify with your beautiful words. Thank you!!!"

It makes me FEEL BETTER and SO GOOD other women out there recognize how stressful my life is!

A Not So Pinteresting Party

I just got home from a baby shower for my friend, Amelia. She and her husband are expecting their first child via surrogate in June. There were a few things of note:

1.) Amelia was complaining of sleepless nights, her back hurting, and just wanting to be DONE with this pregnancy. She said she's been channeling what her surrogate has been feeling carrying HER egg which I think is so beautiful.

2.) More importantly, there was NO diaper cake. The hostess' caterer didn't put out one place card in front of each food item with clever names for the menu.

3.) The food table base was made from an antique crib with a sheet of glass on top. LOVE!!

So I immediately asked Amelia's mother-in-law, the hostess, where she bought it:

ME: "Where did you buy that crib serving table?! I must get one!"

MIL: "I didn't buy it. I made it."

ME: "What? Oh, so you found the idea on Pinterest?"

MIL: "No, I just came up with it. Thought it'd be cute."

ME: "Oh."

Why wouldn't she just use Pinterest? Who comes up with original ideas anymore? I was baffled.

I must say though, the serving table looked divine. The caterer did all different hors d'oerves Amelia has been craving during her surrogate's pregnancy: Lobster cakes, bruschetta, mini salmon croquettes and more. It was all so tasty, so I'll overlook there not being a centerpiece, rolled napkins, and a specialty lemonade stand.

I was so excited since I single-handedly covered the cost of the group gift: A Mima Xari stroller! (I didn't want Amelia having to walk around with one of those lower end strollers like Graco, heaven forbid.) Just as Amelia opened her gift, there was a knock at the door. It was a flower delivery. I knew I wasn't going to be home Saturday morning, the day before Mother's Day, so I sent my florist the address of the shower. I don't understand why that would bother the mother-to-be.

On the days you want a quick fix to FEEL BETTER about your stressful life in your $2.5+ million dollar home(s), make sure your off-site flower deliveries, like mine at Amelia's baby shower, arrive in the moment all eyes are on you already (like buying the entire group gift).

You Are WHERE You Eat

A few years ago, my husband encouraged me to do more work in the community. He knew it would make me FEEL BETTER about things and it would be a perfect outlet where I could use my CEO-like skills. So I decided to start a nonprofit called Sorry You Are Not Me (SYANM). I founded it because I wanted to help the needy.

This year marks the sixth annual "Peanut Butter and Jealous" where we will be serving peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to 1,000 kids in Ladera Ranch (South County) whose parents make them attend public school.

To kick off the event, I usually host a committee meeting luncheon at Pelican Hill a few weeks before. However, since I was out of the COUNTRY (see my last post), the committee treasurer, Terri went behind my back and picked another venue.

Get this, the restaurant Terri picked did NOT have valet parking! The walk from the parking structure was not only embarrassing, but brutal in my Jimmy Choos. When the server came to take our order and I found out their salmon was farm-raised and not Alaskan wild, I lost it. How could Terri do this to ME? I was already upset with her since she wanted to switch to organic peanut butter this year. It's going to blow my budget and besides, these kids don't even know what 'organic' means!

Just remember -- especially on days you're actually able to pull yourself out of bed and go somewhere for lunch with friends -- a place without valet parking is suspect. If the maître d's first language is English, RUN.

Do NOT Travel Local

People travel from all over the world to come to Orange County. It's a vacation land. They come to see the beaches, go to Disneyland, visit attractions in San Diego + Los Angeles, and relax. I LOVE living by the beach here, but it makes it hard when I want to take a trip. I have to get creative. I've learned that if I really want to FEEL BETTER about myself, I do NOT travel local. 

A "staycation" is a made up thing for people who can't afford to take a lot of time off work or don't have enough nannies to watch their only child while they're gone. Even going to the same place every year -- like a beach house at the Outer Banks every summer -- doesn't count. 

General rule of thumb: It has to be AT LEAST a two-hour flight to somewhere outside of the state you are currently living in and preferably out of the COUNTRY -- no same city or country traveled twice.

If you don't post pictures on Instagram, you might as well not even go. If people don't know where you went, how are they supposed to fuss over the lodge you stayed in overlooking the Alps or commiserate with you when that UBER driver picked you up in Manhattan driving a 2017 Toyota Corolla. Seriously, does UBER even allow cars that OLD?

My friend, Paige traveled to Croatia a few years ago to see where The Bachelorette was filmed and did not post ONE single picture during her trip. UGH.

Get Ready to Feel Better

Hi New Friends! 

I'm Meryl. Yes, I was named after Meryl Streep. My mom has always been a huge fan. She bawled her eyes out while watching Sophie's Choice when she was pregnant with me. She went into labor the night of the 55th Academy Awards in 1983. The awards show was on TV in the delivery room. I was born just as Meryl Streep's name was announced for Best Actress for Sophie's Choice. My mom had another name picked out for me, but just as the person from the hospital records office walked in to get the name for my birth certificate, my mom yelled out "Meryl!" in excitement as her favorite actress walked up to the stage. So that's what the lady wrote down and walked out of the room before my parents even saw her. I did love Meryl in The Devil Wears Prada (she was fab), so I don't mind.

I have SO many friends in "real life" and followers online who openly share their struggles with me. Most tell me how stressed and depressed they are. I can't help but think that my talents, trips, perfect family, and possessions all immaculately staged and displayed on my Instagram might contribute to that. They think I have it ALL. 

Here's TOP SECRET information (so only tell like five or six people): I DON'T. I don't have it all. In fact, I'm a hot mess behind my iPhone XS Max.

So after months of thinking (and having my personal assistant thinking for me too) I decided it was only fair to start this blog to HELP OTHER STRESSED AND DEPRESSED WOMEN out there see they don't have it as bad as I do.

I figured you're already up and online late at night browsing because you either (a) drank a Diet Coke too late in the day, (b) have to hide your online shopping addiction from your husband while he sleeps or (c) you're five pounds overweight which makes you too uncomfortable to sleep.

So ladies! GET READY TO FEEL BETTER while you read about MY stressful and depressful life and glean from some of my sage wisdom. Guaranteed I WILL HELP YOU get out of "Depreche Mode" and start leaving the house again looking like you haven't given up (aka wearing yoga pants when you're not going to yoga and/or not pregnant).

xoxo,

M