Monday, July 6, 2009


My good friend S and I had a fantabulous lunch today at Mozza-- the most perfect chopped salad of lettuces and herbs and salami and the thinnest slices and bits of cheese and a sprinkling of herbs and just enough acid, was it lemon or vinegar -- in the dressing. And then we had two little pizzas -- on the most perfect crust, completely devoid of grease -- tiny little clams that tasted in one bite exactly like the sea and on the other thin slivers of artichokes and a bite of lemon taking the edge off some kind of creamy cheese. S had a glass of wine because it was her birthday lunch, and I took a couple of sips from it and it tasted like flowers. And then we had dessert -- spoonfuls of butterscotch pudding with a hidden crunch of Maldon sea salt, so faint that the sharpness was a surprise that disappeared in the puff of thick sauce that came with it and the finish of light, airy whipped cream. We just about ran our fingers in the glass and licked them, it was so good.

On the way out we kept talking, mainly sharing stories of our daughters who both have special needs. I gave her a big bag of clothes that Sophie had grown out of and remarked on the rickety stroller in the back of my car that I need to replace. I need to buy a new one, and the insurance company doesn't cover wheelchair/strollers. The stroller will cost at least $2500 and I just don't have that now or, for that matter, in the near future. And then I remarked that I understand insurance companies cover Viagra, that drug that helps older men maintain erections. S has the same sense of humor as me and she pointed out that I should write about it and call it:


So here's one:

I wonder if I could get a prescription for Viagra, cash it in over time and buy a wheelchair for Sophie?


I wonder if there's a black market for Diastat, the rectal valium that we have to keep on hand for emergencies. Each package has exactly two doses, already in their syringes, and they cost $450 each (without insurance), and I always have to make a case for how much we need them whenever I refill them.

I could perhaps stockpile the Diastat (since the insurance company suspects that's what I'm doing) for real and have a rectal valium party where people pay for their dose.

And then there's another blogger friend, Ms. Moon, who mused on her own personal vanity as she slowly gets ready to be a grandmother. Even though I'm nowhere near being a grandmother, I spend an inordinate amount of time being vain -- about my weight, about my appearance, about the loss of my skinny, young, carefree self -- you'd think I had nothing else to worry about. HA!

Another Musing

I wonder whether Gertrude Stein worried about what she looked like. I like to think not. That she had somehow come to a state of peace and sat, immobile, on her literary throne, waited on hand and foot (and loved) by the even uglier Alice B. Toklas, eating incredible food, entertaining the greatest literary and artistic talents of the day. I want to be like Gertrude Stein.


  1. oh crap, I missed out on the bag of clothes, didn't I????Sorry...quite a last couple of days for me...but I am back...I think...and ready to tackle the day.
    But not now. Now I am going to bed.
    And did you have a reservation for MOZZA? There is always a line all the way down to that palm readers house!

    good night...glad you got out today and enjoyed yourself...and let me know if you have the rectal valium party...I will be there for sure.

  2. Um, have you ever thought about being a food writer? Delicious! Fun to see you also escape to good food, spend borrowed time on vanity and fight frustration with humor. (viagra yes?! stroller NO?!!!). Crazy.

  3. It's really not fair to be able to describe food that well to a foodie who can't go out to a restaurant! Well, I guess virtual food is better than nothing!

  4. Oh me too - like Gertrude Stein, I mean. How absolutely wonderful to not care one iota about what one looks like, but to soak oneself in the cerbral glow of literary luminaries while dining on lobster and other delights.

    It's the pharmaceutical companies that get my ginger up - for example the HIV/Aids virus in Africa could be better controlled and result in fewer deaths if only they would reduce the astronomical cost of palliative drugs.

    Could we not have a world-wide blog party to raise funds for the stroller your daughter needs. Bet we could, you know.....

  5. Life is so filled with "natural" unfairness that it just seems hideous when insurance companies only add to it. Why do old men need hard-ons? Please. Do their old women appreciate this?
    Meanwhile, yes, you have to fight for what your daughter needs and can't get a lot of it, no matter what.
    And why can't we accept ourselves the way we are?
    Musings on I-have-no-idea.

  6. What a wonderful lunch! I could almost taste it.
    I'll think of Gertrude Stein when I have to put my bathing suit on for the pool today.

  7. You really lost me on the butterscotch pudding - and I imagined I was licking the dessert plate too :)

    I always wonder what the world would be like if men had to give birth, get saggy boobs, lose their cute bellybuttons FOREVER, and then have hot flashes too.

    We'd probably have world peace at the very least..... and new stroller/wheelchairs for children like your sweet Sophie besides.

  8. What we need to be or do is simply love and accept ourselves but that's one of the hardest things to do.

    Love that the wine tasted of flowers.



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