There seems to be a communications issue between me and hubby’s tennis club, neighbors, ex-colleagues, esteemed board members of the ballet. And so I thought I would put things to rest. Apparently you are confused as to what you should converse with me about at parties, openings, summer picnics and lovely holiday parties for the ladies of the neighborhood.

running a little low on patience

running a little low on patience

Below is a list of immediate conversation starters that would work well after saying hello with my correct name and gushing over the sophisticated tunic and jewelry pieces I am wearing.

  1. Number of fireballs you’ll do in the upcoming weekend.
  2. Recent armored car jackings.
  3. A class you’re enrolled in, like belly dancing, bathtub gin making, chocolate tasting or Picasso cubism.
  4. What shade of red lipstick Gwen Stefani wears. And then moving on to is maroon a shade of purple or red?
  5. How asinine state laws can be, specifically the Ag-Gag law.
  6. Recent sightings, readings or creations of art. If they’re illegal (graffiti), all the more interesting.
  7. Your dog’s ear mite condition.
  8. Social media (and for you older ones, no, it is not a reality show).


And here is a conversation starter that does not interest me in the slightest. I encourage you to pay close attention.

  1.  The hubby’s exes. GFs, wives, whatever. Hinting that they own a biz together, that she’s your new next-door neighbor (even better is when you yell this over the heads of party attendees), all the wonderful places you went together as couples, the fact that she hired you as a carpenter when Wall Street didn’t work out.

baby with boquetAnyone over the age of 21 will have a past and pasts are good. That’s how we learn…what was right, what was wrong, what we will not repeat no way no how, regardless of a high fireball count. And then we move on. All of us. We wish happiness to each individual, perhaps with a slap on the back or a kick in the rear, but happiness none the less.

And probably like you, I was raised on The Golden Rule, do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Well, I think that’s fine until you’re about 12 and then The Cool Mona Rule enters, which is you have to tell someone how they are to treat you. Immediately. This way you get off to a good start, with fewer mess-ups and flowery, half-ass apologies to someone who doesn’t care.

I understand that changes are difficult and I am perfectly aware that you too have had some that weren’t easy. However, I am too cool to mention it a first time, much less over and over and over.

So now that that’s all covered, perhaps we can begin again. Or if not, remember that I have a blog and you do not.