And Fairy Tales Don't Always Have a Happy Ending, Do They?

Me and Sarah, Duchess of York, January, 2004

Yes...if you think back a little and remember what you know about me, you will eventually stumble upon the Weight Watchers years...and you will remember that I worked closely with The Duchess and a team of talented professionals who were responsible for her reinvention after the toe-sucking/royal divorce/Duchess of Pork days... Our work established her reemergence as an inspiration to millions of people who never thought they to could reinvent themselves...take charge of their lives and become the person they wanted to be...and weight loss and body image were just the beginning of the messages The Duchess communicated in her role as spokesperson for Weight Watchers International. And she was beloved.

By now you have all heard about what she was "caught on tape" doing this past weekend in London...puportedly selling access to HRH, The Duke of York -- her royal ex-husband, the father of her children -- to an undercover reporter posing as a legitimate businessman.

Apparently a desperate act of a woman who is deeply in debt and made a bad judgment call.

I spent six years working with The Duchess and I know a woman of many qualities...and in the coming days, until this dies down, you will all read a lot about who she is and the mess she has created here, there and everywhere...she lives beyond her means! she has traded on her royal title! she's an abomination to The Royal Family! she sponged off of Prince Andrew! she let some rich bald dude suckle her tootsies!... Still, I wanted you to know what lies beyond that...the woman as I know her too...

First, if there is one rule of PR to which I have held true over the years, it is to do all you can to protect and preserve the image of the client or brand...to keep inside information of any kind to yourself. And though I know how The Duchess liked her tea and what she enjoyed snacking on and what cocktail was her favorite...and the way she was with her girls...and what she said about Andrew and Diana and William and Harry and the Queen...and about her amazing intuition and psychic abilities (she announced to a room full of people that I was pregnant with Will in the earliest days of the pregnancy, before I even knew for sure...)...and some of her stories about run-ins with other celebrities...and difficult moments and tense times we had with her...I think I will continue to honor the rule and keep the details to myself... But some of the experiences I had with her over the years that I will share, speak to who she was almost 99% of the time I spent with her...

In Buffalo one year I had arranged through Make-A-Wish Foundation for a terminally ill little girl, whose last wish it was to "meet a princess," to be a guest at our event and have a private meeting with The Duchess afterwards. And the Duchess was worried the child wouldn't think she was a real princess...like Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty...so she asked for some tin foil and she made herself a crown and a little scepter...she bought the girl some Barbie dolls and she sat on the floor of that hotel meeting room with that ridiculous foil crown and played with the little girl for at least an hour while the girl's mother and the Make-A-Wish folks looked on in teary amazement...

And the time in Kansas City when she insisted on making a detour to planned appearances and TV interviews so that she might visit my great friend and counterpart, Nancy B., who had just given birth to a daughter, who arrived unexpectedly and very early...six weeks early at least...and the whole team, including The Duchess, had worried that all the work Nancy did to make this royal visit to Kansas City successful had stressed the baby and made her arrive early... So The Duchess didn't care whom she kept waiting, this visit and being there for Nancy was far more important to her...

And there was her great chemistry and deep friendship with my dear friend, co-worker and mentor, Sharon R....an amazing leader at Weight Watchers, our training manager and the gold standard by which all others were judged. The Duchess always turned to Sharon for inspiration and encouragement...their traveling show at our East Coast Super Meetings was the hottest ticket in every city, little and big, that we traveled to over six years together...they shared a legendary banter and effortless back and forth...what a great team! Such fun to watch. And I know that The Duchess stayed close to Sharon and called her frequently from wherever she happened to be in the last two years of Sharon's life...returning the inspiration and support Sharon gave her over the years...and I know those calls buoyed Sharon's spirits and brought her much comfort in those final weeks.

And then in Baltimore, hosting the last media event in my role at Weight Watchers, The Duchess pulled me aside and told me how much our working relationship had meant to her over the years...and this touched me because I had always been sure to give her a respectful amount of space so she would not feel that she had to be "on" around me. She said that she always felt cared for and comforted when she traveled with our team...and she thanked me for that and said that she would miss me and that she wanted to stay in touch. Weeks later I received a lovely card with great photos that she shot herself along with a personalized note that was genuine and heartfelt...an unexpected but fitting goodbye....and of course, I still keep it with my other favorite things...

I don't know what happened this past weekend...I hate to know that she had hit that low of a rock bottom and that it was splashed across the world in technicolor. I feel for The Duchess because she truly is a good, decent person...generous and witty and polite and sentimental...cool and sarcastic too...but mostly, she was wounded from a lifetime of loss and I always wanted to see her happy. We all do things that are not wise or pretty and we make choices that are morally ambiguous...every one of us does things we are not proud of, but to use an old Weight Watchers saying: "there is a positive intention behind every action..." Not to excuse the behavior, but I believe she is in need and she was only trying to protect herself.

So...judge not lest ye be judged, I guess... I am on Team Fergie.

So We'll Swim Upstream...

Thanks to all of you who expressed your concern and love and devotion and shared your theories and advice and suggestions after my last post...I am blessed to have such caring (and b*ll-busting) friends and I love you too...no, scratch that...I love you more.

And now... the update....

Will and I visited the allergist this week... Ok, wait...rewind a little...when I told my story a few weeks ago, I left out some details to make the story flow succinctly...so, part of the whole mess you didn't hear was the ironic fact that mere days prior to my ER visit and 3 hours on IV, my jealous and possessive six-and-a-half year old, Will, complained of a "sore throat" while we enjoyed some lobsters for Sunday dinner. And the alarm bells went off...I made him stop eating and I announced that I would be making an appointment at the allergist as soon as possible so that he might be tested. And then that Wednesday, I had my episode. So....we made a tandem appointment instead....and this past Monday morning we sat next to one another on the examination table and each received these little pricks (ha!...not that kind...) in our arms and watched as the little pricks swelled to twice their size and turned red (ha!...again, obscene... the jokes just write themselves here...I am not even trying...). So anyway....this is what we found...

It was wrong of me to hate on the shrimp teriyaki...my brush with anaphylaxis was, in fact, not a result of those deliciously glaze-y, salty little critters...instead my tongue blew up and my throat nearly closed in reaction to the innocent little salmon avocado roll I snacked on at the same time. Salmon...I know! Who would have thought? You know, I don't eat it unless it is raw or smoked...so I don't really even eat it that much. You know the weddings and parties where you get the choice of salmon or beef fillet...I always go right for the fat, lazy cow as it will most likely be cooked more expertly than the salmon anyway. But, you know me...I am a foodie to the core, and any food allergy is a major blow...any inconvenience or restriction in any way almost puts me over the edge...so this is punishment, certainly (Damn hooky playing!!). I will miss salmon...because now, it needs to be removed from my rotation for good....now I get to carry an epipen in my purse...now I have an anaphylactic seafood allergy.... I am certain that this will cause me to long for all things salmon for the rest of my life.

During my pregnancies -- the only time in life I denied myself an exotic snack here or there in protection of my unborn angels -- I vividly remember daydreaming about sushi and beer all nine months...sushi and beer was all I wanted all 40 weeks...two things I knew weren't an ideal combo for the health of the fetus...I don't think either of those items are even treats I indulge in regularly, but at that moment in time, I wasn't allowed to have them and that just got to me. I suppose I am one of those girls...if you tell me I cannot have something...anything...if you give me parameters and guidelines, I will spend half of my life figuring out how to skirt said obstacles. In all things. So now, it is not only recommended that I stay away from salmon...my life depends on it.

But....at least it wasn't shellfish, right? I wasn't prepared to have to give up lobster rolls on the deck by the beach...or that creamy, delicious shrimp gratinee at Arturo's...or mini crabcakes with spicy remoulade....or Nantucket scallop season. At least that wasn't my issue, right?....

Well....don't expect an invitation to a celebratory crawfish boil, because I mentioned there were two of us on that examination table, did I not? That's right, my friends, my sweet little darling was right...his throat was sore that night after our lobster tails...because the little pricks in his arm told us that he is severely allergic to all shellfish...lobster, shrimp, prawn, scallops, crab, crayfish, langoustines...you name it. And on top of that, more cr*ppy news, he has a high sensitivity to mollusks...clams, oysters, mussels, etc.... And this is the child whose favorite food is escargot. I am so bummed for him.

Of course, I want to keep Will alive and healthy...I worked hard to get him here in one piece after he lost his umbilical chord and oxygen and I needed an emergency C-section to birth him...I have always been extra attached and protective of him. So we will avoid shellfish to the very best of our ability, of course...and as Suse pointed out, at least I don't have to worry about kids bringing shrimp cocktail or steamers in for lunch everyday like the nut-allergic moms worry each day with peanut butter contamination. That is all true. But as a lover of food, it does break my heart just a little bit that this child will likely (hopefully) live another 90 years and will never enjoy lobster rolls by the beach or creamy shrimp gratinee or mini crabcakes or seared Nantucket bay scallops...and don't even get me started on clam chowder (Say chowdah, Frenchy...!) and The Oyster Bar at Grand Central. I guess to protect him I will have to hide my disappointment too...I will have to pretend that clambakes and raw bar and chowderfests totally s*ck....but we all know that is a lie...and that he will be missing out.

So...what's an indulgent mother to do in compensation? What deliciousness can I introduce him to that will fill the seaside shellfish void? What cool summer pastime can I hook him on so that he feels just as festive as the rest of us while we watch the sunset sink beneath the horizon? Hmmm.... Damn...the only thing that keeps coming to mind is cocktailing...you know, almost as fun, festive and delicious as a lobster roll. Too early for that kind of fun though, isn't it? Oh, ok...yeah, I guess you are probably right....rushing my son into the wonderful world of summer cocktails is probably a mistake. So, I will have to keep thinking on it...wrack my brain for Will's next yummy diversion...maybe that will keep my mind off the smoked salmon rosettes I will now have to turn down at The Fourways Inn this summer in Bermuda...ugh...this is not going to be easy....

At least we know what we are up against though, right? Right.

xoxo, Suz

Buy Me Some Peanuts and Crackerjacks...and a Foam Finger...and so on...

I am pretty sure I am the only person in history to have worn a strapless Vineyard Vines dress to a Yankee game...oh even though it was navy and white and kind of festive and seasonably light and airy, make no mistake, everyone -- the women and men and kids and concession stand workers and maintenance people and security detail and undercover cops -- gave me and my garden party appropriate duds the once over and the barely concealed eye-roll. I guess adding on top of that my two boys in their madras shorts, we were an odd sight up there in section 328 of the upper tier...oops! So I misread my audience...at least Ellie pulled through with some upper tier cred as she sported a tank top, denim skirt and the white trash pink camouflage Yankee hat she just had to have at the first souvenir stand we passed....her father surely would have come right to the stadium, dragged her to the car and taken her home had he known I allowed her to brave the crowds in that get-up...but thank g*d she did, because at least our upper tier brethren didn't think we were total jag-of*s...

Ok, so my outfit may have been kind of prim, but my intentions were purely down and dirty...this was a midday game...and it was Wednesday afternoon on a school day...and there I was, corrupting my own children and letting them skip school so we could kick back for an afternoon and hang at the "new" Yankee Stadium together...my first time. I bet there is probably a sizable selection of you who think I am a "cool mom"...and I guess in some ways I can be...but most of the time I am not. I don't like to break rules and I am always afraid someone is going to yell at me or think I am pushing the limits of acceptability...so I am never the mom who takes a week off of school in the middle of the year to go to Disney off-season...nor am I the mom who lets the kids stay home "sick" if they are just tired...and I am not the mom who drops a Happy Meal off at the school for the kids' lunch everyday...not that there is anything wrong with any of that, in fact, that kind of flexibility is a good trait...just not one that I possess. Instead, I am the mom who gets them to school at 8:35 everyday, 15 full minutes prior to the final bell...I am the mom who somehow agreed to be PTO president for the next two years (another story...)...I am the mom who drops off the kids' completed homework if they are out sick...I am the mom who fears authority (it's that Catholic school education...I am scarred...) and who doesn't want my kids to be late or delinquent or in trouble because of a choice that I made... But yesterday afternoon I went against my natural inclinations and we played hooky.

It all started when my high school friend, DPM, posted the tickets' availability on Facebook, which, incidentally, I think is sort of becoming the internet age's version of the lunch room bulletin board...you know the one where you posted your Relay For Life pledge form or your little note card advertising a brand new litter or kitties or puppies that are up for grabs or your daughter's contact info with the headline: Babysitter Available! Anyway, I looked at the calendar and there were no meetings or pedicures or lunch dates scheduled...and then I checked the kids' school schedule, confirming there were no tests scheduled for May 5th...and there weren't...so I thought "what the hell?"...and so it was...I took DPM's Yankee tickets.

But, you know how the ticket exchange thing works...you have to go get them...and DPM is in the City and I was out here, but I made it work. I made plans to meet up with DPM after Rob and I had dinner at Market Table on Carmine Street (pancetta wrapped diver scallops and spring vegetable risotto...hello!...). So despite our high school friendship and interaction on Facebook, DPM and I had not seen one another in fifteen years. Yes, fifteen years (I am so old...)!! And I was using his season tickets out of nowhere as if we lived next door to one another or something...so it was a reunion and ticket exchange all in one. We conducted our business in the lounge downstairs at the Washington Square Hotel where DPM and his lady friend were sipping some gin cocktails complete with cucumber slices...and over his gin and my sparkling rose, we caught up and decided it was long overdue, this reunion...and that we needed an official unofficial reunion of our high school posse, boys and girls and cocktails...

So on to the game...the kids and I got to the stadium just as the doors opened on this gorgeous and perfect day... I knew the seats were upper tier even before we got there, so I was expecting to be out in the sun among the people...forgetting though that I have one child blessed with my tolerance for sun and tanning abilities, while the other two, particularly Ellie, are very fair and have a rough time in the sunlight (no wonder she loves that Twilight vampire boy)... Oh I totally slathered them in spf 50, but the guy at the door confiscated the bottle before we got inside the stadium because it was of the aerosol variety (security alert...). Ok, so as I said, I had to get Ellie a hat or she would never make it past the first inning in the sun...and of course, we stopped at the first kiosk we saw and she chose the aforementioned (WT) pink camouflage one. Then the boys wanted foam fingers. I obliged. And then they wanted french fries and sodas and chicken fingers and water bottles. I obliged again. And then it was those little plastic Yankee helmets filled with Carvel soft serve...this all before we even found our seats. And once we did sit, the Carvel was dripping all over everything and Tim and Will were fighting over the foam fingers and who got what ice cream on whose. That was when Ellie decided to go back out to the concourse to avoid the sun...we had a full 40 minutes before the game was to begin. Oh lord god...

Then Will's melted vanilla with sprinkles spilled all over his lap and onto his seat, completely covering his madras-clad thighs and bum with melted ice cream. This moment marked the second time I had to take him to the bathroom and I made Ellie come out of the shade to sit with Tim while we were cleaning up. In the Ladies Room I encountered the most lingering of stares at my strapless Vineyard Vines get up from a woman in a half shirt and denim shorts, while I wiped him down at the sink. I need a beer, I decided...I am dressed all wrong and I am on the upper tier...a beer is needed, asap... While Will and I waited for my Corona (thanks for reminding me it was Cinco de Mayo, TL...) I started getting phone calls from Ellie begging me to return so she could go back in the shade...I walked back chugging the beer and passing a group of cops who I am pretty sure snickered at my questionable strapless dress in the upper tier...

So the game started and I purchased countless other food items...the plastic collectible cup filled with popcorn that Will eventually dumped on the Dad and his adult son in front of us -- "At least it's not beer!" they said as I blushed and profusely apologized...and they couldn't have been nicer. There was also more water and some ice cream bars that dripped all over Tim's shirt and stuck on his face. And there were those foot long hot dogs that somehow I thought would be an item I should try too...and that turned out to be a big fat mistake. Then at one point the Budweiser vendor walked through: "Bud! Bud Lite!" and Will raises his hand and calls out: "Over here!" and I smack his hand down and am laughing at him, waving away the Bud guy and I say: "Will, you can't order beer, you're too young..." and he says in a dastardly tone: "Anytime one of those boxes comes down the stairs, I want whatever is in it...I don't care what it is!" Well...he is my son after all...

By the third inning it was mostly just Tim and I in the seats watching the game, the other two coming down to take money from me to buy popcorn and more water...and to ask when we would be leaving. And it was relatively quiet with just Tim next to me and I find that I am totally enjoying the game and being among the people in the upper tier, the sun beating down. It had been so long that I had been at a game and actually watched (the last time I was at a Yankee game was in the '90s and even there in our corporate seating some group of boroughs-y stockbrokers with cigars beat up an old man...right there in front of us, 10 rows back from the dugout...)...But today's game brought back the fond memories of my grade school years when we hit the stadium once a week in the Merrill Lynch seats behind the batter's circle and my BFF Allison would lean over the to the field and tell Willie Randolph that she loved him.

At the top of the fourth Tim leans over and he says: "We can leave in the sixth inning...." And I nodded to him...you know, somehow he figured out that it would be his decision, because as long as he wanted to stay there in the sun cheering, I would have...even with the other two hiding in the shade of the concourse...because he was the one who really cared about being there and taking in the game. And so...the game ended early for us, but we got what we wanted out of it right? I mean, I got to catch up with an old friend while getting the tickets...and the kids got all kinds of treats and fun and deliciousness...and I got sunshine on my shoulders and a little Corona in the afternoon...and I was a cool mom even for a just a little while and let them take a day off from school...and best of all, we got to spend that day together, me and my babes...Ok so maybe the strapless dress was out of place, but you know, now I have pretty new tan lines to show off as a result...if nothing else....

......You know....I was going to end the story right there, on a high note of self realization and contentedness... BUT....the day took a turn once we arrived home, so hold onto your hats...

I was running around getting the house together once we got home...Tim had swim practice and the other two were hanging out...I sat down to write what you just read above...fully intending to post this piece on Thursday morning. And as I was heading out to pick up Tim, the other two asked me to order them dinner from our local Japanese restaurant...and I did...some chicken and shrimp tempura and some shrimp teriyaki and a salmon avocado roll, which I planned on eating even though I had a growing migraine since I downed that 12 foot long or whatever giant size that Yankee dog was...ick...stupidly, even though I felt sick, I planned to eat some sushi.

And so...you know what's coming, right? You know how the story goes...I eat a few pieces of sushi and two of the shrimp teriyaki...and a mere 15 minutes later the right side of my tongue is double its size and my throat is swelling shut...and I f$%&ing panic. Never once in my life have I had any problem with any food, let alone seafood...but there is no doubt what I am experiencing here. I am trying to swallow but it is hard and I am running around the kitchen trying to locate some Benadryl...I scream to Ellie asking her to help me and she calls Rob and tells him to hurry back because Mommy is having an allergic reaction...and I hear the fear in her voice. She hangs up and says that Daddy will be here in a few minutes and suggested I call Susan...and she says: "I don't know if he meant Mrs. Sobkowicz (aka Suse) or Mrs. McGuire..." Both Susans are amazing in a crisis...Susan M. is a nurse and my first medical go-to call...but Suse is the mother of a nut allergic child...so I choose to call her...

And Suse talks me through a little and asks me some questions about my symptoms...but a few minutes in I start to notice a tightening in my upper chest...a scratchy, painful tightening and I start to cough and clear my throat...and she says: "Are you coughing?" and when I say yes, she tells me she is on her way with one of Lindsay's epi-pens.... In the meantime Rob gets there and calls my mom who is on her way...Suse arrives and agrees to stay with the kids until my Mom arrives...and off we go to Valley Hospital ER with the epi-pen and the open Benadryl packaging in my purse...

When I get to the ER I tell the guy at the desk what is going on (itchy palms started in the car...) and the place goes f$%&ing ballistic...they throw me in a wheelchair and bring me to the dude in the little office who asks questions...I tell him my story between coughs and I show him the Beandryl I took (which was Children's by the way...)...and he is concerned by my reddened chest and I keep saying "It's from the Yankee game!!" Then some Physician's Assistant runs in and listens to my breathing...and then she goes berserk and wheels me away at 90 miles an hour, yelling to her colleagues to get the anaphylactic kit. Ana-f$%&ing-phylactic????? I know what that means! OH SH*T!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

They tell me to undress quickly and for the first time all day this strapless Vineyard Vines dress served me well...they tore that thing off me in one swift pull...they attach all these electrodes to me and put in an IV...a doctor runs in and examines me....and he says: "Oh, you're talking...ok, calm down...you will be ok..." And I hear him advise the staff to dial it back a little and he recommends my treatment....Benadryl and Zantac by IV (Zantac??...did I mention the 12 foot long Yankee dog at some point???)... So they administer the burning liquid through the IV and I am immediately dizzy and zoning and I hear my voice asking questions...and I am fading in and out and in my head I am picturing all of those smack addicts on Intervention and how this is the way they must feel...and I begin to cry a little and they are calming me down...and I chill. Rob is there now and when they walk away, he aptly sums up the situation and says: "Not to belittle what you are going through, but I think that Physician's Assistant had a strong reaction...you are going to be ok..."

And then I passed out....

I woke a few times in the next three hours...I heard Rob asking if this was a very serious reaction and the nurse telling him the fact that I was speaking was a good sign, but there is no deciphering how serious a reaction will be...how it will develop...if taking Benadryl will just hold it off until later or of there will be residual attacks...and so, all allergic reactions are serious...

They let me go at midnight...and I felt ok. I feel ok now too...my tongue is just now losing the final swell and my chest is still a little scratchy...I still have a hospital bracelet on one wrist, electrodes still attached to my chest and a bandage over the IV entry...but they were right...I am ok, and I will be ok...

So...Thursday morning I go about my business when my girl Stacey calls to catch up on dinner plans for our other dear high school Heather, Sally's birthday....and I tell her my story...and without missing a beat she says:

"That's what you get for letting your kids play hooky..."

My thoughts exactly.

Much love my dears...kisses to all with this deliciously swollen tongue...xoxo, Suz

Photos:

1. Will, me and my strapless Vineyard Vines dress in section 328 of the upper tier...

2. They seem to love me anyway...cool mom or not...

3. DPM and Me, our reunion and ticket exchange...and we're still looking damn good even 15 years later...

4. to 8. Various shots of my babes enjoying their take in the beating sun of Cinco de Mayo in the Bronx...

9. Shrimp Teriyaki -- Who knew we would end up enemies....??

10. The Two Susans with me...Suse to the left and Susan M. to the right...always saviors and best friends...

11. My hospital ID bracelet, still attached...I almost added a picture of the silicon nodules attached to my chest but at second glance, I decided it was borderline p*rnography....(hey but feel free to email me on the side if you are dying for a look...you sick b*stards...)

Time to Scarf the Doughnuts...

When Ellie and I were in Los Angeles I planned each day around the food we would eat that night...and this is pretty much how I plan every vacation, visit, break, weekend, whatever...I am a foodie... die hard, to the core, the type of girl that would drive 50 miles for the best, the most authentic, the most creative, the most unique gustatorial selections available...I have never denied this fact. And I believe the best way to experience another place is to eat as they do there...eat what they do there...clam chowder in New England, schnitzel in Vienna, fish and chips in Liverpool, shawarma in Beirut, street dogs in NYC...so let's put it this way, on that Left Coast trip Ellie and I completely blew off visiting the world-famous Avenue of the Stars so we could get cupcakes at Sprinkles in BevHills. So there you go. At any rate, when we were in Los Angeles we had passed a cart that was selling "churros," which are essentially Mexican crullers, long and ridged and coated with sugar...and Ellie wanted to try them...now, I almost never deny my children the opportunity to try something new, but this specific time Ellie had just scarfed all kinds of garbage at Universal Studios...you know, popcorn and soft serve and Diet Coke...and I told her that we were in LA, no doubt Ground Zero for the best Mexican food in this country, and that we would get churros at another street corner, on another day....forgetting fully that we had about 36 hours left...and we were staying in the lily white enclave of Brentwood...not a churro in sight...oh, I could have found vegan red velvet cake, at least 17 varieties of organic egg omelets and an entire grocery department dedicated to cave-aged cheeses...but no churros. And the kid wouldn't let me forget it.

So flash forward to this weekend...the lead-in to my kids' truncated spring break...a break that I, again, have fully planned around what we would eat and when and wh

ere we would be driving to get it. Oh, I am fully aware that it is gorgeous out...and the kids could be riding bikes and playing tennis or whatever, but we have our own set of priorities over this way. So, having never forgiven myself for the churros denial in LA, I decided we would kick off this week of foodie adventure on the search for East Coast churros in New York City. First I googled and found on Chowhound that churros are most available in Jackson Heights and Washington Heights and some place up in the Bronx....and without a tour guide, I wasn't going to any of those neighborhoods...but...churros are also a hipster food here in the Big City apparently, because the most raviest of rave reviews were for the foodie mecca, artisanal doughnut bakery, DoughnutPlant on the Lower East Side. This guy, this doughnut chef guy revolutionized the art of doughnutry back in the late '90's with an old family recipe that gave birth to these delicious combinations like fresh strawberry and pistachio and vanilla bean made with all natural ingredients...and they became the standard by which all other upscale doughnuts are judged. You have all had a DonutPlant doughnut with your iced latte in the past 15 years at Dean & DeLuca or Agata & Valentina and Citarella and Zabar's...or maybe that's just me, but regardless...

So, I was thrilled...churros at DoughnutPlant, who knew? And a dozen doughnuts on top of that, it's a win-win...so the plan was set...I woke Ellie at 7:30 this past Sunday morning and off we went, breezing in, barely another car in sight (thanks, beloved Blue Laws...)...joggers by the river, the sun shining bright over the GWB...in less than 30 minutes I was making a left onto East Houston Street from Thompson, heading to sweet cakey heaven on the Lower East Side. Now, I have lived here all my life...for six years just a little West of this very neighborhood...and I am down this way all the time...just last week in fact, for "Holey Thirsty" at Nancy Whiskey (so fun, btw...)...but still, I blanked on where Grand Street was...stupidly. So there I was, driving down East Houston, looking at the cross streets: Bowery, Allen, Chrystie, Forsyth, Mott...this was where I was supposed to be...but where was Grand again??? Yet as I questioned myself I continued to go straight and...(oh...whoops...sheepish giggle...), I hear myself saying: "Oh, sorry, Ellie...but by mistake I got on the Williamsburg Bridge." And she goes: "Does it go to Virginia?" and as I am thinking: it might as well...I say, "No, Brooklyn..." And the two of us sat in silence as we digested the truth...Brooklyn's great and all...lots to offer, some of my dearest besties are from there...and I bet they had churros there...but I had no clue how to get around Brooklyn, so heading away from Manhattan into the trendster borough was not on my list of things to do that day...this week...this month... And when I saw signs for Queens and the Bronx, I knew I had to abort this mission asap once we crossed this bridge...in the meantime, I was having flashbacks to walking over the Manhattan Bridge during the Avon Walk a few months ago...the subway car rattling by with a deafening rumble... Who knew this hunt for churros would become an interborough adventure??? I prayed there would be an easy U-turn once I hit Brooklyn...an easy off to the local streets, because I had no interest in traveling the BQE...I wanted a tres leches doughnut now!!!

And then...we were coming off the bridge and I threw a Hail Mary out there and took some 90 degree angled turn off of the exit ramp...and right there in front of me was a sign directing me back to the Manhattan side. So it seems I am not the only person who blindly hit Brooklyn while traveling East Houston Street in search of any variety of things delicious and naughty... Phew...we were back in Manhattan in no time and still I couldn't figure on where Grand Street crossed East Houston...oh, what's that you say? Grand doesn't cross East Houston?! Of course it doesn't!...Grand is parallel to East Houston, so I just may have ended up in Montauk waiting for it to intersect the road in front of me...what a dumba**!! Ok, ok...so thanks to a call to Rob, I turn the car in the proper direction and drive down Grand, skirting past the Chinese merchants and their bicycles and mopeds all askew, littering the narrow streets...

And in seconds I was pulling up next to our destination...at the end of a set of stores...all unassuming with it's sleek steel and black signage and handwritten specials on a blackboard perched out front on the sidewalk. "There it is!" I yell out to Ellie as I double parked and threw on the hazards -- yes, as I said I will do anything for a foodie adventure...even risk being hauled off by the towtrucks.... And so we enter the shop...about third on line (nice!) and I see churros listed on the menu hanging above the register...yay! But then...it became clear as I observed our fellow doughnut shoppers place their orders -- the varieties available that day are the varieties you see right in front of you...and all I saw was Valrhona chocolate, vanilla bean, creme brulee, banana pecan, coconut cream, tres leches (thank god!!) and blackout...a few others too, but definitely no churros in sight...I decide to block Ellie's view of the counter until we get up close, and I whisper to the girl behind it: "Do you have churros on the menu today?" She looked unsure, but stuck her head in the passageway to the kitchen and asked a group of Latino guys in white aprons...and then she turned back to me and said: "We only have churros during the summer."

NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You have no idea how scared I was to tell Ellie...I seriously thought she would throttle me right there...like: "Mom, you woke me at 7 a.m. on a vacation day, almost lost us in Brooklyn and drove around this neighborhood for 20 extra minutes to get here...and they have no churros!?!" But she didn't...worse, she just gave me a silent grimace and shook her head, almost imperceptibly. Oops...another screw up by Mom for her to tell all her jaded teenage friends about someday. Oh well, this is the risk you take when you are on a foodie mission...sometimes they just don't have anymore of what you want...it's an important lesson to learn early, I'd say...right??? In any case...we stocked up on the sweet goodness anyway, 12 sticky, glaze-y doughnuts tied in a giant rectangle box...and I grabbed an extra vanilla bean for Ellie to eat in the car... As we exited she said: "Well if they only have churros in summer, then I suggest they take them off the menu the rest of the year..." I can't say that I disagree...

So we hopped into the car, thankfully remaining un-towed...and as I pulled back out to East Houston, this time heading West and away from the Williamsburg Bridge, I handed Ellie her vanilla bean doughnut...and it took some coaxing as she was still sulking a little about this non-starter of a churros mission (only I would sit there begging a kid to eat a doughnut, saying: "please try it, Ellie...this is an award-winning artisanal doughnut!!"...). Eventually she took it and after a few minutes she cheered back up, licking her sticky fingers and exclaiming: "This is really good, Mommy..."...which is what I wanted to hear her say all along...

So on the ride home I profusely promised to bring her back in to any one of the restaurants serving churros that her father found through google as we were making this trip (Five Points...la Boqueria....Bar Jamon...I mean, damn!...I almost got us lost in Williamsburg trying to find a place that didn't even have churros and I could have just made a brunch reservation...!!!)

"Can we go tomorrow?" she asked...

"Oh, no, honey, sorry...tomorrow we are taking Tim to Max Brenner's for the chocolate pizza..."

I told you I had the break already planned out...

Photos:

1. Ellie and I head out on an LA foodie adventure...no churros on that trip, but the Lobster Cantonese was a winner...

2. Our first LA tacos...all upscaled and out-authentified with their grilled shrimp and mango salsa...

3. Greasy, crunchy, sweet and delectable...burros on a cheap paper plate -- food of the gods...

4. A little sticky circle of perfection, DoughnutPlant's vanilla bean deliciousness...

5. The creaky Williamsburg Bridge giving me flashbacks...

6. Mecca of cakey sweetness on the Lower East Side... We're not worthy!

7. Our actual plate of doughnuts and quartered up and shared with the boys...licking the screen for another taste of that banana pecan bit of heaven...

8. Me and Ellie...always having fun, even when I am force-feeding her sweet, fatty treats... Bad Mom!

9. Our next destination, chocolate pizza on 14th Street...the object of my perfect, darling 8 year old's food fantasies...mmmmmm....

Words Are Very Necessary...

The best part about my weekend away on Longboat Key with (left to right, not including me, the shrimpy, midgety one with the crimson, sunburned nose...) Nancy, Suse and Mary, was not the flawless weather (well ok, flawless is strong...so maybe it was a tad windy that first morning on the beach...but the rest: flawless...)...and it was not the lunches on the verandah, Gulf of Mexico right in front of us, our luscious midday chicken and avocado salad chased by a refreshing Corona Light (with lime, TL)...and it was not obtaining the tan lines that we are all sporting on our clavicles, the first brush of direct sun and heat since the summertime...and it was not the festive nature of our dinners out -- mojitos and 1905 salads at Columbia...the Hess Select cabernet and montrous desserts at Euphemia Haye...and just about every component of our beautiful, succulent, savory dinner at The Beach Bistro (even the Bacon Ice Cream was a pleasant surprise...)...and it was not those two kittenish yet demure spring/summer dresses I bought at Island Pursuit, or Mary's new Tory Burch sandals, a full 50% off and on her feet as she exited the store, or the copious amounts of olive oils and balsamic vinegars we had shipped after a long delicious tasting...and it wasn't watching the orange-y/purple-y sunsets over the Gulf...or even when the sweet but daft grocery bagger asked us repeatedly if we were on college Spring Break (a pre-cursor to my return flight seatmate who guessed my age as 26 after I grabbed her hand and squeezed hard through the non-stop, petrifying turbulence...!!!)...Those were all wonderful moments for sure...memorable moments...but...

What I really loved about being away with these girls was that we never ran out of things to say to one another...on the beach, late night, at breakfast, at dinner, over wine...listening to one another...learning all about one another... You know, even though we are good friends, we still had much to say...telling the others how we met our husbands and our lifelong best friends or who we were in high school and college or our favorite food/song/drink/color/band/actor/writer...what we might have named our children had they been the opposite sex...what our prom dress looked like...how high our bangs were in the '80's (mine: not very...though I did love Zinc Pink lipstick and pegged jeans...)...what our hopes were for our children's future...where we saw ourselves a few years beyond this moment... Girl talk, I guess...fueled by sun and salt air and champagne....though I would bet that some of you guys would have been right there with us in our pjs as the clock ticked well past midnight, chattering away with abandon....you can admit it, we will still respect and adore your masculinity. So I suppose this should not be some revelation as I wax poetic upon spending time with and enjoying my friends at every turn...but the weekend sailed by...in a good way. I didn't even crack that copy of "The Six Wives of Henry, VIII"...

But even with all of that...the much needed and enjoyed respite by the sea...even so, I am happy to be home...being with my kids and seeing family and my other dear girlfriends...getting back to the celebrations at home....Easter Sunday of course, the clothes and the candy and the egg hunts and Country Club dinners. But you know me...I am looking to (this week!) Holy Thursday first...the annual celebration of dive barring and festivity in the name of Jesus and Biblical betrayal at Nancy Whiskey Pub...yay! With appearances by Sam and Cath, Stacey and KRose, RJP and his Mad Men posse...and the rest (aka the Professor and Mary Anne...)....much fun and frolic in store.

And lots more that's left to say, I bet...Can't wait!

xoxo, Suz

We're Havin' A Party...Everybody's Swingin' (...well, not like that...)

I bought 6 party dresses to choose between...I

wore none of them...instead I wore a strapless stretch cotton dress from J.Crew that has been in my closet since Spring 2000...10 years and 2 pregnancies ago. What a jacka**...I know, I know. I mean, there were issues with each of the newly purchased dresses (which were all chosen with one thought in mind -- they would showcase my shoes...the shoes...my 4-inch high, platform-toed, fuchsia-bowed, black suede, Kate Spade slingbacks...)....anyway, as I said there were issues or concerns with each of the dresses -- a little short...a little low cut...a little too "mother of the bride meets sophomore semi-formal,"... waist too loose...won't zip over bust...you name it. Anyway, I made a final choice from the purchased dress selections...a black accordion-pleated, cinched-waist, straight neckline, adjustable satin "bra" straps....and it was accentuating the exposed décolletage, I will admit...and I was a little nervous with the low-lying neckline, you know, my dad and my uncles and my nephew and my friend's husbands really didn't need to see that...but I figured: Why not? Why not try a new look?

Well...because, you may end up looking like a tragic cougar...that's why.

Ok, ok...maybe that's harsh but, whatever....it was the dress and it's padded upper half (which, sorry, I don't want or need help with...)...coupled with my hair, which had been painstakingly glazed and flattened and coiffed and shined up by Dogan...and, finally, the Channel 41 Mexican telenovela make-up job that had been professionally applied in my kitchen only minutes before I dressed... The final result: I looked like Sharon Stone as a Glamour "Don't"...And I was leaving for the party in 15 minutes...SH*T!!!!!!!!

So I scrambled to the bathroom and frantically wiped off a good portion of the powdery under-the-eye eyeliner and the blush...I applied some concealer

and some well-placed mascara...and soon, I looked like me...made-up me, glamorous me...but me... Then I tore that accordion-pleat dress off my body and began rifling through the rest of the purchased selections: No, not the one that won't zip over my bust...that won't work...and neither will the mother of the bride meets the sophomore semi-formal...mother of f**k! I am screwed!!! And then, I remember...the ten year old strapless black J.Crew number with the ruffled bodice and tasteful just-above-the-knee length...I rip through the closet and find it waiting for me, under its innocent little dry-cleaning sleeve...I put it on...Ellie zipped me up...the shoes on my feet...gorgeous, diamond drop earrings in my ears (an unbelievable surprise gift earlier in the week from my dear girlfriends...)...and the transformation was complete -- Sharon Stone -- out...Party Suz -- in...

Phew...that was a close one! A lesson learned, even at this age -- stick with the look you have cultivated...there is a reason it works...

So...I was off...headed to City Hall in Tribeca where the celebration of my birth would commence...

And what can I say, really...so many friends that I truly love were invited to be there, and most of you were...or with me in spirit... My beloved Mom and Dad, our hosts who charmed the room...and the extended family (Uncle Freddy postponing a trip to China so he could be there...now that is the kind of devotion I can get behind...)... and my inner circle and my besties and my roommates from college down from Boston and friends from town and work friends and new friends and old... And there were some my favorite gays in the house along with my young 20-something posse (Yo, Britt!), who were gracious enough to say that my friends and I made "The New 21" look really good...because, well...we do! And as always I had my oldest and dearest girlfriends there, with whom, honestly I could have the time of my life just splitting a couple of Coronas and a bag of Bachman Pretzel Rods (they are the best, don't even try to make a case for Mr. Salty...).

But instead it was a Big City party...passed hors d'oeuvres and Kir Royale and red velvet cupcakes...ADP's trusty iPod providing the playlist (Erasure!!..."I'm so in love with you/I'll be forever blue"...). And it was a whirlwind, with moments of clarity...like the flash of Mary's camera, documenting each of these moments for me with her amazing talent...and when RJP approached me and said: "Hey, nice work serving gourmet sliders on a Friday in Lent..." Oops!!! Well, I promptly checked out the slider bar, next to the seafood tower, and there was a line of badass Catholics defying their faith, sucking down the beefy goodness...so there you go...see you all in hell (can't wait!)... And, you know, there were all these sort of blind connections, false familiarity...like when my godmother, Aunt Annette, was recognizing all of you from this blog, right here...she says to me: "There's Helen!...and Suse!...Oh and Kathy too!..."...And ADP made her way over to my high school Heathers, whom she recognized from our pithy commenting while Facebooking, and she goes: "You're Sally Hur!"...and Sally was freaked out, like a deer in headlights...like, "should I know this person???"... And then Gwen told me that someone stopped her in the bathroom and said: "You're one of the besties!"....it went on like that all night....

And even though I knew who was coming I was beyond excited to see each new guest walk in...when my roommates from college arrived, I just squealed and carried on, many hugs...and the high school friends, who had taken me out earlier in the week, still I engulfed each of them as they entered the room...And then there was all the random catching up... telling my uncle how TL had dinner with someone who knew him, and she told TL: "That Freddy Ritt was crazy!!"...Freddy loved that... And my cousins, who always busted my chops for being the dreamy princess, were telling stories about my childhood clairvoyance and my age three predictions and assertions of who I knew in a former life...etc., etc... I am pretty sure I predicted a few of you back then. So I sat down here and there and slipped in and out of each little group and caught a little bit of each conversation.... You know...there were so many people I wanted to spend every minute with...but instead I bopped around and I had moments with each of my friends and family...I didn't eat a thing and I barely finished a drink, though I seemed to be clutching a champagne flute at every turn...

And then....my Dad took the stage and made a toast...

In all honesty, I cannot fully recall everything that was said because I was overwhelmed but beaming on that stage, in front of a room full of people I genuinely love all laughing and smiling back at me. So, you know...Dad proceeded to roast me a little...mock me a little (stories of my legendary poor focus on school work...the year I laughed off a bad grade, saying to my teacher: "Really, Miss Wess, let's face it...this isn't going to keep me out of college..." and Dad's punchline: "It almost did." I took the abuse like a champ, because of course he also took the moment to adore me a little...and to tell the crowd, my friends, how he sees me, how I fit in their universe, who I am in their eyes and what I have meant to them... And he brought down the house, women and men falling for him...as always...

And it was like every emory I have ever had was coming to life in that room...at every turn, someone whom I knew and loved and whose influence had impacted my life in some way. And I feel like I have been talking about this every single time I write...but it is always true...I always stand outside myself and cannot believe how blessed I have been...how many great times I have had...and the amazing people I share them with...

And truthfully, I know we are meant to be here with one another because even if I had shown up in the tragic, desperate Sharon Stone/Channel 41/Cougar look, you would have embraced me and I, you...because we are connected at the heart...and I predicted long ago that I would find you and that we would be forever friends...

xoxo

Ok...so, milestone passed...time to look ahead and move on to the next celebration...which is....

Holy Thursday dive barring at Nancy Whiskey!!

My favorite of all holidays...I mean, I have said it before and I will say it again -- when else is it appropriate to honor Jesus' death while also celebrating Sam's birthday/quasi-bachelorette party and the post work, Lenten wind-down with Cath, RJP and the Mad Men posse... So...mark your calendar, hire your sitters and take off work...Holy Thursday, April 1st...see you there (yes, I mean you Stacey...and you too, Gwen...)... Maybe for giggle I will throw on my cougar dress...if you are lucky...

Love, Suz

Photos:

1. Inviting you to witness "The New 21"...gotta keep telling myself that...

2. Sharon Stone rocking the cougar's obligatory purple mink wrap...so tasteful and age appropriate...

3. Me, in my party-wear post strip-down/scrub-fest... Ahhh...much better...

4. (left to right) Freddy Ritt, Mr. Alter, Me and Dad...my best guys (next to Will and Tim...)...

5. (left to right) Some of the Wyckoff posse: Pina, Gwen and Paul...

6. (left to right) Christina and Sally, of the High School years...

7. Dearest friend and house photog, Mary, with Me in a stunning self-portrait...my surprise diamond earrings making an appearance...

8. (left to right) More of the Wyckoff townies: Joanne, Helen, Barry, Nancy, Amber, Scott and Mike...and this was only one drink in...

9. (left to right) A collection of favorite girlfriends: TJ, Suse, Me, ADP and Helen...

10. (left to right) My girls Kathy W. and Sam...Kathy R. in background holding court...

11. (left to right) The Stonehill class of '92 contingent: Jeanne, Laurene and Susan...Jeanne and Susan my besties and roommates at the Sem and then again in Orleans A...

12. (left to right) Nancy Whiskey regulars, Big sis Cath and RJP with great friends, Eric (my mom's crush...), Me and Heidi...

13. (left to right) A few drinks in...Lisa D., SisterG and her eyelashes along with Ann...

14. Dad roasts and toasts me...I think my cheeks still hurt from smiling that hard...

15. (left to right) Oldest friends, best friends...as Stacey might say: the Wh*res on the Hill (aka the Holy Angels gang...): Stacey, Danielle, Casey, Me, BFFL Allison and Bridget...

16. (left to right) Mrs. Alter, Pat Ritt (aka Mom), ADP and Me...see, I told you I had a Mom...here she is celebrating the birth of her favorite child...

But In The End, It's Right...

Today is my birthday....my long-awaited birthday...

But, make no mistake...as I am sure you have guessed, I have been celebrating for a week already.... I mean, maybe I should say a month since there was the big birthday trip Ellie and I took to LA a few weeks back...her choice, this Left Coast city...and though London would have been my inclination, soon I warmed to the Cali concept...well, once we were invited to stay with friends in Bel Air for part of our visit...on the edge of Brentwood, that scandalous mid-90's murderous fall from grace still apparent at every turn: Bundy, Rockingham, Mezzaluna (now a Peet's Coffee, by the way...). But even so, we loved it there...we loved it, so surprising to me and my East Coast-centric suspicion of the sunny, happy Angelenos...no, no...believe it or not, I could see myself there...(shhhhhh...my Dad will never, ever speak to me again if he hears me say that...). Anyway, it was a great trip and a bonding experience for Ellie and me. Ok, so the only celeb we saw was Sara Gilbert, aka Darlene from Roseanne, stuffing her face with a bagel...and maybe I drove all the way down Sunset Boulevard from Bel Air to Silverlake pointing out every landmark along the way, not realizing she was in a dead sleep in the backseat until halfway through...and maybe when we hooked up with my high school pal, Nick, to meet his funky, cool, artsy LA posse at this hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant in the San Gabriel Valley, we drove around in a circle for 40 minutes trying to find the joint, exhausting Ellie to the point that she simply placed her head on the table and didn't speak until dinner was over (uh...buzzkill!)...and ok, so maybe when Ellie and I came out of the garage on Rodeo Drive she said (I sh*t you not): "Oh my gosh, Mom...it looks exactly like Ridgewood!"....So, dearest, you are telling me I flew 3,000 miles so we could shop in a touristy downtown that looks "exactly" like our very own suburban downtown...hilarious! But...we also rode the ferris wheel at Santa Monica Pier, on the edge of the Pacific...and twice we rode The Simpsons ride at Universal Studios, screeching and hysterically laughing the entire time...and we bought outfits on Beverly Drive...and we spontaneously blew off one fancy dinner reservation so that we could eat s'mores at a completely different place instead... And even with all that craziness, we had a blast...great moments...a most memorable way to celebrate our "zero" years together...

Then we came home and there was the Winter Doldrums dinner party last weekend, hosted by Teri and Charlie...a breakaway from the endless snow (finally) in the wine cellar at Brick House...friends, neighbors, drinks, food and fun...as always. And that led into this week, during which I indulged in some dress buying and salon treatments, readying for the celebrations and dinners and parties ahead...which began with an espresso chip ice cream cone on Tuesday afternoon that cheered me after a few days of feeling like I was living inside a Jewel song ("Same old story/Not much to say/Hearts are broken everyday...")...and champagne at Panevino with ADP (a year older this March 9th) and Sam -- the always friendly and gracious bartender not allowing us to order more than one drink as she felt like closing early....uh, ok....and there was the chocolate peanut butter cupcake from Just Desserts that I indulged in while ordering my birthday cake...and then, a little sashimi lunch at Sakura with a small group of my favorite friends, BFF Allison there from across the county and my 5 year old bestie and president of my pre-school fan club (she has a teddy bear named after me, enough said...), Miss Mere came along too...the best part though was when the little Japanese waiter brought out my surprise red velvet cake (Just Desserts again...) covered with candles, my friends and the entire waitstaff singing "Happy Birthday" in broken English, while the table next to us, also a group of women celebrating a birthday, jealously and sheepishly looked on as they split a brownie six ways...hahahahaha!!! I averted my eyes from the sad Piscean sister they were celebrating and secretly cackled to myself: My friends are better than your friends!!.... And then, I closed the week that night sitting at my kitchen table with TJ, sharing a bottle of pinot noir, a cheese plate and girl talk while our kids literally screamed and laughed for 4 hours straight...ending the week on a high...my last week in my thir...wait, no...my last week in my teens....

So I woke up early this past Saturday morning, a fresh, new day in the lead-in to my "The New 21" birthday week, and after catching my Tivo'd food porn fix of The Best Thing I Ever Ate (mmm...Berger's cookies from Baltimore...those fudgey bastardizations of the famed Black & White cookie of NYC...love!) and "Triple D" (eating johnnycakes with Guy in Providence, RI...that's not too far to drive...). Anyway, so after that I flipped around a little and was as pleased as punch to stumble upon Sliding Doors, that fine little cinematic masterpiece and parallel universe gem...the mid-nineties indie launchpad for the young Gwyneth...you know, before all her preachy macrobiotic crap and the yoga and buddying up with Madonna and the birth of Apple and the sanctimonious pseudo-wannabe-Brit condescension.....

Yes!!!! So psyched! I love Sliding Doors! I know, it wasn't like some masterpiece or groundbreaking work of art...it's sort of the thinking girl's version of a chick flick, I guess...but it is totally of its time and I relished the idea of becoming immersed and transported back to the mid-90's...you know, a time before I was turning The New 21, when Gwynnie ruled and I was young and new and working the Big City scene in my Gucci loafers. But aside from that, I totally love the film's concept...the whole notion that the smallest, most insignificant hits and misses in our daily existence can alter the path of our lives dramatically.

So you all know the story...Gwynnie is brown-haired, deceived and put-upon by the unfaithful live-in boyfriend in one universe and blond, heartbroken, jaded and healing with the help of the cute, fun Scottish guy in the other...and we see what would have happened to her had she made it through the subway's sliding door on that fateful day. We all know where the movie goes...the lessons she learns...how she is hurt and heartbroken but is saved. And we know how it ends up...that she eventually finds herself exactly where she should, knowing what she needs to know, finding what she is supposed to find, even though it comes with loss...and ultimately being with whom she belongs. So aside from using the movie's appearance on my TV as an excuse to loaf some more on this Saturday morning, I was thinking how perfectly timed it was for me at this moment...because as my birthday approaches, and particularly over this past year, I have been looking back at the choices I made that delivered me to this point in my life...and as always, wondering how it would have all come together had I taken a different path...or missed the subway on a fateful day...

But...

I might never have driven down Sunset Boulevard, my 10 year old girl sleepy in the backseat...or hung over the Pacific on a ferris wheel...or seen a former sitcom star scarfing breakfast on the go...or laughed and danced the Winter Doldrums away...or eaten that espresso chip ice cream cone or chocolate peanut butter cupcake... And you know, the birthday lunches and red velvet cake and girl talk and the kids screaming and playing for four hours straight...those are just the things this week that remind me to look back and own every moment and every choice...and embrace who I have become, without an ounce of regret....because to me, having regrets would be far too wasteful at this point... So...flawed or charmed as it may be, it is my very own perfect life...

And so...I will celebrate still. My parents are having a party for me this week...the youngest daughter...and I will see some of you there...and some of you will be with me in spirit (will drink one or two for you!)...and all of you will be in my heart...as always...

One year older, wiser...but still the same girl...

xoxo...Suz

PS A very Happy Birthday to Nancy, who (thankfully) is a year ahead of me, but who shares this great day...Love You, Nance!!

Photos:

1. My seventh (or "The New Three"...) birthday party at our old kitchen table on Mohawk Road in Franklin Lakes...always a pro at scarfing cupcakes apparently...

2. Celebrating warmth and freedom and being 10...Ellie on Santa Monica Beach, only a few weeks back...

3. Me and Ellie warm by the pool at Hotel Oceana, Santa Monica... Good thing I missed the boys so desperately or we may have taken up residence...

4. Ellie couldn't be happier...s'mores at Luna Park on the edge of Beverly Hills...

5. (left to right): Suse, Freddy, Tim, Pina and Colleen...some Winter Doldrums revelers...happy and festive even though there had just been a two day blizzard and over two feet of snow on the ground...

6. Miss Mere of the SisterG's...my little soulmate and future NYC roomie (just call me Aunt Sassy...)...

7. Weighed down with treats from my friends -- bouquets and gifts and a mis-marked balloon...maybe that birthday girl at the other table was turning 40...

8. Red velvet deliciousness...the first of many sweet, delicious birthday celebrations this year...

9. Berger Cookies...pure heaven...who's coming to Baltimore with me...?

10. Gwyneth, goddess of the mid-90's, in Sliding Doors...

11. This past Saturday evening, my kids and I celebrating with steaks and creamed spinach and red wine and chocolate macademia cake...and the potholder big sis, Cath, made for me...(yes, filled with irony...)

12. (left to right) Nancy, Suse, Susan, me, Amber, Gwen and Chris...Some of the inner circle, back in January...the first celebration of many that have and will follow...