I’m writing Happy Birthday to myself even though I’m not feeling it this year. Every year since I left home at nineteen, I’ve called my mother at 5:03AM on the east coast, the time of my birth lo those many years ago, to congratulate her for having me. And we laugh and are grateful for how lucky we both are to have each other. This is the first year I wasn’t able to do that, which is making me feel worse than I already do. But I’m trying to buck up, and enjoy any good wishes that come my way. (Several already have, and I truly want to thank people for that.)

It’s always basically sucked to have my birthday just three short weeks after Christmas, (I’ll elaborate in a second,) but this one takes the cake. (Or, rather, doesn’t.) Growing up in New York, I usually had big parties, inviting my whole class because I didn’t want anyone to feel left out. That was great, for the most part. (It’s how I got my first Barbie doll, which I still have to this day!!! Thank you, Robin Solomon and Laurie Eisner!) The bad part is, since it’s winter there, someone always got sick and couldn’t make it. Being the Empath that I’ve been told I am, I always felt terrible for the sick kid, and found it hard to rise above. On my tenth birthday, my mother’s the one who got sick, so I had to cancel the party, which I feel terrible about to this day!!!

The other part about the January 14 is that everyone’s exhausted from the holidays, including me. It’s hard to get those party juices flowing again. The shallow complaint is that, rightfully so, most of my bday presents are bought on sale, so they’re difficult to return. And by the time I try to exchange them, the new merchandise is in, which means there’s nothing at that old price to exchange them for! (I told you that’s the shallow part, but I’m letting it all out now. And I have a feeling my fellow Capricorns are nodding their heads in agreement.)

So, here I am on my birthday, food festival party cancelled, putting it all on Mr. X to entertain me, which I hate doing, but I just can’t sit in the house and cry today. And, because most of my pals were just there for me when I lost my mother (words I still can’t believe I’m uttering…or writing!,) I’m pretty sure that no one is even going to remember my birthday, even though the west coast ones should have been prepared for my party, that I cancelled just three short days ago.

Boy, am I Debbie Downer today!!! So, I’m very, very sorry for that, and vow to get back to fun columns on Monday, and keep my pain to myself. (If I had had time, or forethought, to already get a 2012 diary, I’m pretty sure I would have just written this whole thing in it, and left the rest of you alone.)

And may I be the first (and hopefully not the last!,) to say…Happy Birthday to me!!!

Mr. X and I are spending the second Christmas in New York with my little mother, so we’re warm and cozy here. And grateful. I hope all of you are, too.

We’re also getting to do a family Chanukah for the first time in many, many years. I love experiencing all of this in cold weather, as I feel it’s supposed to be.

I have nothing profound to say this year. I feel that I say enough with my daily columns all year, so this week-end, I’m going to just relax along with the rest of you.

I want to wish you very happy holidays, whether it be Christmas, Chanukah, or my favorite one that I’ve celebrated since it was first coined in one of my all-time favorite shows years ago, The OC, Chrismukkah!

In other words, Happy Everything!!!

Some of us have waited for this special day for a long time. I hope we all have a very memorable day, in a wonderful way, especially those people who are lucky enough to be celebrating a birthday today.

There’s not really much else to say about it.

Some folks think that 12/12/12 is the same thing as today, and while it’s definitely a fun date, and the last one of the kind we’ll see this century, it’s not really the as special. The numbers are the same but not the digits, so that makes today that much more momentous.

I’m planning to have fun tonight, and I’ll tell you about it next week. Hope yours is fun, too.

This is, happily, the third October of this E-zine, and I just realized that I never told you guys my famous horrible kindergarten Halloween story! I could have sworn that I’ve written this at least once before, but I checked my archives, and even those of my former column for BeverlyHillsPeople.com, and it wasn’t anywhere to be found. So, here it is, and I have a feeling that you’ll all understand me a little better after reading it, at least in my anti-marriage stance. Here goes:

When I was in kindergarten, my mother woke me up one fall day with a cheery, “Today is the Halloween party at school, so put on your costume.” Even though I had been in school for a probable total of six weeks, I thought it was strange that the teachers hadn’t reminded us the day before, and sent home a notice about it. So, I asked my mother, a teacher herself, if she was sure. She answered something to the effect of, “I’m a teacher! Of course I’m sure!”

So, rocking my wedding dress costume, I walked the block to school, hardly noticing that I was the only one dressed-up. All of the kids on my block were older, so they wouldn’t be having anything as fun as a dress-up Halloween party in their grades. I pitied them for that.

This is similar to what I had on...

But when I arrived in the basement of the building to line-up with my class, I finally did notice that no one else in even the kindergarten area was in costume. Yes, it happened—my mother got the date wrong! By a week! [Note: this is why even now, with my mother's recent health issues, we can't tell if her mind is somewhat altered. She's always marched to her own drummer, more than anyone I've ever known.]

Imagine my humiliation. In school with my classmates for not that long in the scheme of life, and I show up in costume! OMG. The horror of it is still fresh, trust me. [Note: for those of you who are thinking, “Why didn't her super-smart older sister stop this debacle by correcting their mom on the date?,” the answer is, I don't know. I never asked her and I'm sure she wouldn't remember now. Possibly she delighted in my pain even back then, (we just started getting along now,) or she was so many grades ahead that she didn't even notice what was happening with me. Or she assumed my mother was correct, as well.]

...but this is what I felt like!!!

My eight-grade line monitor wanted to do something to ease my pain, so she declared me a “beautiful bride.” Oysh. Even though I was the third tallest girl, which made my regular spot at the back of the line, she placed me at the head of it and had me chose my “groom” to lead the way up to the classroom with me. [Note #2: even though I always tell this story with mirth, I just got queasy, for real, writing about the groom part. I guess it still literally makes me sick.]

My real boyfriend, Russell Rubin, (whom I actually shared with two of my best friends, but as my January 14 birthday-mate, he and I had a special connection,) was, fortunately for him, absent that day, so I chose my number two dude, Robert Rosenberg. (I guess I have at thing for double Rs.)

Robert was really handsome, especially for a little boy, and gave me my first rabbit’s foot, in blue, which endeared him to me even more, whereas Russell looked just like Charlie Brown and gave me the same cheap ring he gave my other two pals. But Robert was short, and a few months younger than I, so he had to be only my back-up. (And I continued being attracted to only older men until just about a dozen years ago when it hit me: What was I thinking???)

I always still give Robert much credit for actually being happy that I chose him to be my groom that day! I cringe for him every time I think of this story, (which, strangely, is not just on Halloween.)

So, anyhow, we got up to our classroom, and I sat at my table crying. I still remember Rhonda, the second tallest girl in the class, patting my arm and inquiring kindly, “Girly, why are you crying?” Because I’m wearing a friggin’ wedding gown, you moron!!! Isn’t that obvious??? (Kindergarten was the only grade in elementary school where we weren’t seeded by brain power. Which explains why Rhonda and I were in the same class that year. I think that my future “one class”-mates would have been able to figure out the source of my misery with one glance. At least I hope so.)

My mother was off from her Junior High teaching gig that day, so the assistant principal called her at home to bring me real clothing, admonishing, “Mrs. Salkin, I’m surprised at you.” And that should have been the end of it.

But not for someone with my abnormally precise memory. I remember most events in my life with amazing clarity, which is great for the most part, but horrible for the painful events. (But that is a story for another time.)

The upshot is that, several years ago, I finally figured out my aversion to marriage—the thought of donning a wedding gown brought back my five-year-old’s pain! This was actually a fantastic revelation—now I can blame my mother for me wanting to stay single! Of course, I’m madly in love with Mr. X and don’t plan on leaving him ever. And, if he ever tried to get away, there would be hell, and a heck of a lot of money, to pay. So, that’s not the issue. It’s always been about my not believing in marriage. But it’s so wonderful to be able to blame my mother, the one who wants me to get married to most.

So, just like at this time of year, many families bring out their annual ghost stories, I trot this out. And trust me, it’s the scariest one I know.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! WHICH REALLY IS TODAY.

When I was doing my show, I never rehashed any of my yarns because I didn’t want even one person to think, “she already told us that.” So, in over three hundred shows, I never repeated a story. (Or my wardrobe, for that matter!!!) And, of course, I feel the same about repeating myself in print, especially in this E-zine.

This is how long it feels that we've been together--since the Stone Age!

But, in my ever-obsessive quest for no mistakes ever in my writing, even if it’s already published, I’ve recently begun checking some of my old columns for errors. To my horror, I’ve found a few! (And corrected them, of course.) The fun part is that, in the process, I’ve actually been entertained by some fun memories and info!

One of the columns was about my anniversary with Mr. X a year ago today. It basically said everything I need to say about us at this time, as well, and for once, I couldn’t improve it up on it, so here’s the link to it: http://www.itsnotaboutme.tv/news/2010/07/07/gossip-happy-anniversary-to-mr-x-and-me/

I do have one more quick story to add, though:

When we used to live in two separate apartments, but I slept at his all the time, he asked me to please never leave my sneakers in his bedroom. I was worried that he meant in case some other chick would see them, but he was actually concerned that because my feet are so small, if the police came in for some reason, they’d see my sneaks and think he’s a pedophile! I think if the police were showing up at his apartment, my footwear would be the least of his problems!!! But the concept still made all my friends laugh. And that’s why we’re a couple to begin with—to entertain the masses.

Since this turned-out to be a quick column, now I have more time for us to go celebrate! Yeah, right.

I can’t believe that the Fourth of July is already upon us again! This year, we get the whole week-end to enjoy, with the actual holiday falling on a Monday, which is why I’m wishing it for you now.

Not that I have nothing new to say this year, but yesterday’s column, that included so many topics, really took a lot out of me, so I’m repeating one of my own stories from my former column, Out To Lunch, which appeared in BeverlyHillsPeople.com.

It’s the tale of my 4th of July Miracle, which happened in 2006, when I had just begun my writing career. I’ve thought of it every year since, and some people, especially in New York, often ask me to tell it to them again at this time of year. (It’s not as requested a story as some of my ones with more, shall we say, edge, such as the one about the tea witch who owns New York’s T Salon, or the bear almost eating me in Aspen, or meeting Michael Jordan and being totally disappointed, but it’s just about the only one that’s nice throughout.) So, in case you want to renew your faith in the milk of human kindness, it’s worth the read:

[I'm amending it a bit from how it appeared in BHP, to make it a tad quicker to read, but the important parts are there.]

I was in New York for the summer, and I as had predicted, none of my friends there were fun enough to celebrate. I love them, and they’re sociable at other times, but not this holiday.

My mother and I had started off the day with brunch with her friends; a lovely start to any holiday.

Everyone told me that the big thing to do in New York on the 4th is to go shopping, which sounded strange, but when in Rome… So I tried, but Kings Highway, a big shopping district, was a ghost town. What were my friends thinking?!

On a previous trip, I had discovered the best ice cream in the world at the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory, under the Brooklyn Bridge, which is my favorite structure, by the way. Always fascinating. I begged my little mo to go there with me, but even my own mother deserted me! This day was making me want a twin even more than I already do. (Or just a visit from a more fun pal, like Rhode Island’s Ronnie Hazel, Jr. or Ohio’s Sheila Tracy.)

So, I ventured to the Bridge on my own, figuring everyone would be in Coney Island (the other side of Brooklyn) for the fireworks. Two minutes into the trip, I realized I was starving and felt weak, and couldn’t get to the fabulous ice cream fast enough.

When I got to the area, it was a zoo. Turns out, all of Brooklyn (and Jersey, Philly, etc.) gathers there because its giant deck is the perfect place from which to watch the Macy’s fireworks! Who knew?!!! (Everyone but me, apparently.)

All the cops were unusually nice, and by some miracle, I got to park right in front of the River Café, which is adjacent to the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory, which is on the deck. I couldn’t believe it! (And neither can the Nervous Nellies of New York, who say you can’t park anywhere, anytime.)

It was now 8:55PM, and I ran around to the front of the ice cream bungalow, thinking I’d grab a cone in time to watch the show. Then the reality hit–there was a line of about sixty people! And to make it worse for me, everyone seemed to have friends or family with them, which made me a tad lonely, although I knew I didn’t need another person to help me eat or see.

I talked a little to the guy behind me, Jorge, though we didn’t even do names at the time. His girlfriend, Sophia, showed up and told him that she thought they had just vanilla left. I overheard and gasped, “Oh no! I have to have Peaches and Cream!,” and went on for five minutes about how delicious it is.

I finally got to the door at 9:25, just as they were about to close it, and the fireworks started. Everyone in front of me crushed into the place, but I made the executive decision that, although I was starving, craving the ice cream, and could make it through the door, the fireworks were more important because how often am I going to get to see the Macy’s display in person? And so close-up?

So, I very reluctantly dropped off the line, allowing Jorge and Sophia to enter in my place, and stood on the top step of the stoop to watch. The girl next to me, Faith, said she was desperate for ice cream and that she was the first to get shut out. I was telling her my journey there, and that I had to give up the ice cream I had dreamed of since April, when I saw her look behind my back and gasp.

So, I turned around and saw a cup coming toward me and heard someone say, “Peaches and Cream.” It was Jorge, who had gotten inside and surprised me with it!!! I couldn’t believe it! I thanked him profusely and tried to re-imburse him, but he just walked off into the night. A truly kind, generous stranger! I said, “A Fourth of July miracle,” and started crying, (as I’m doing now even writing about it.)

Faith said, “Don’t cry, you’ll get me started, too.” I said she must share my good fortune. At first, she protested, knowing how much I wanted the ice cream, but I insisted. I knew how much she wanted it, too. So, we got an extra spoon and happily chowed down. Sharing it made it taste that much better. And I’m a firm believer in paying it forward.

Then Lahsen, one of the managers, came out, and gave us cards for a discount on our next visit. He lived up to it, and more, when I returned two days later with my mother. He gave me a taste of the ice cream as it was being made, before it’s frozen. I don’t even love vanilla ice cream, but this was the best substance I’ve ever tasted!

Later that week, I was perusing a Reader’s Digest of my mother’s. It said New York is the most polite city in the world. I would not have believed it if it weren’t for my true Fourth of July Miracle.

I WISH YOU ALL A VERY FUN, AND SAFE, FOURTH OF JULY WEEK-END! See you back here on the 5th.

[By the way, if you were looking for my strawberries and cream recipe from last year, here's the link: http://www.itsnotaboutme.tv/news/2010/06/21/sports-wimbledon-2010/. Just don’t forget to get the berries ready tonight, to have in time for Breakfast At Wimbledon the next two mornings. This is the first year that I'm really not interested in either final, but I know that I'll be keeping my tradition alive, if only as an excuse to eat this caloric once-a-year treat.]

I always feel that I neglect the dads out there on their special days. I lost my father about a dozen years ago, so I try to ignore this holiday. Plus, I was never into it to begin with; it’s just not colorful or pretty enough. And it’s hard to pick-put gifts for males.

In that category, please refer back to my most recent Gift Ideas column because it has a major one for dads: www.itsnotaboutme.tv/news/2011/05/03/gift-ideas-mother’s-day-and-father’s-day-gift-ideas/. If you have any good suggestions, please let me know, and I can pass them on, on this site or personally.

At least give him a cake—that way you can eat some, too. Decorate it with a sports theme—that’s always manly…or for me! Or grill something up—that’s stereotypically manly. Maybe even Tom Sawyer him into doing it for the rest of the fam. According to lore, they won’t even mind.

So kids, please don’t ignore your papas—some of them are just as human as your moms!

And to all my male readers, fathers or not, I wish you all a very Happy Father’s Day!

This one will be short and sweet because I have to go pack to fly to New York on Mother’s Day to see my own little mother! Shamefully, I haven’t spent that day with her since 1994, so I’m really excited to do it this year. (She sees her other children on that day, so don’t feel bad for her. But you can feel bad for me because I always feel terrible about it.) I usually don’t visit in May because I’m there in April and July, but this year, I figured it was about time.

Water color miniature painting by the fabulous May Rose Salkin.

My mother’s not a baby at all about any holidays. She’s thrilled when people acknowledge her, and loves to receive dolls, and cream puffs, for any occasion, but she never wants anyone to hassle. My father was the same way, so I have no idea where I get my love for all things holiday from. And if it involves gifts to me, all the better.

So, anyway, I want to wish every mother a wonderful day. And, if you’re someone who’s celebrating a mom this week-end and, like I, still haven’t shopped, you should check-out my Gift Ideas column from the other day. At the very least, maybe you can get a head start on Father’s Day!

To every good female in the world, Happy Mother’s Day, whether you’re officially one or not. Even if you don’t have children, you can always be a mutha!

This is weird for me–I actually really dislike words that begin with “e” (seriously–they make me a tad queasy,) and here I am, wishing you two of them!!! Oh well.

So, today is Earth Day, a relatively new “holiday” in the scheme of the world, founded awhile back by a Senator with the great name of Gaylord Nelson. Upon researching it, just to wish you a happy one–I know, I’m nuts–I discovered that it actually began forty-one years ago! Who knew???

There can’t possibly be another person who recycles as much as I do–I recycle even the smallest pieces of paper, like gum wrappers. And I know most of the rules because I buy books about how to do it. I even go through the waste basket on Mr. X’s side of the bed to make sure he didn’t sneak any viable recyclables in there! (And, trust me, he has. Tsk tsk tsk.)

I’ll be spending Earth Day at an event that’s showcasing leaders of green living, in the hopes that I can pick-up some great tips to pass on to you, so please look for that next week. If we all do our part, just maybe this planet will begin to fare better. So, in honor of today, let’s all do a little more for the planet than we usually do, and hopefully that will have some, even tiny, beneficial impact.

Now, on to Easter, which I see as really a celebration of Spring, with bunnies and candy and colorful baskets full of goodies. My best Easters have all been in Rhode Island, with the Hazel family. We always have great food, my favorite children, and lots of laughter. So, for those of you who don’t have a big, close family like that, or just won’t be able to be with them this year, I have a couple of suggestions to do with pals, as a couple, or even alone. Here they are:

1) Of course, many restaurant PR people have sent me their clients’ special Easter menus, but I’m not passing them on because I don’t know how they’ll turn-out without having tried them first, so I have no specific recommendations. I can tell you that, if you don’t mind spending the big bucks, I think it would be lovely to sit along the water someplace, perhaps in Marina Del Rey, to have a peaceful Easter brunch.

2) My favorite thing to do is to go to a house party, with a lawn, of course, for an Easter e-word hunt. (I told you I hate words that begin with “e.” I wasn’t lying.) The only problem is that someone has to do the hiding. I’ve been the one doing the e-word hiding with my precious kid friends in Rhode Island, and I put little clues in the plastic ones. It was great fun for all of us, although I’d really rather be the one finding them, (which I’m sure comes as no surprise to those of you who know my “I won’t grow up” Peter Pan policy.)

[Sidebar on #2 above: one year, I was a guest at the hunt at the Playboy Mansion. I, of course, found the most e-words, by far. But when it came time to award the prizes, Hef let families put all their e-words in one basket, so to speak, and totally ignored me! And I was even young, skinny, and cute back then! Turns out, the prizes were major, like TVs, and he wanted to give them to his personal friends rather than a stranger who was there at one of his pals’ invitation. Shame on him.]

3) The loveliest thing to do, in my opinion, is to either host, or go to, a garden afternoon tea. I actually like this idea best with just lady friends, no men and no children, but whatever floats your boat. It’s actually easy enough to do, especially if you don’t make it too fancy. And, when there are a group of people around, I always feel like some form of Jell-O must be served. I’m not kidding. My friends think that sounds nuts, until they see what I come up with, like Jell-O easter e-words or whole easter bunny. (You need molds for both.) So simple, yet so impressive.

4) Have a picnic. Have each person bring a dish and go to a neighborhood park. Good friends, good food, and good air. Bring some chocolate bunnies and you’re all set.

5) If you have to stay in, and want a simple way to entertain people, especially a small group, this is what I did one year when my parents were visiting, and I invited just a few friends over: I ordered a party-size sub sandwich, made a giant salad, and baked a batch of cookies, and we all colored e-words, which trust me, my parents had never done before in their lives. Just the process of being artistic, in such an easy way, in a group, made the get-together so special and fun. I swear–I think I just talked myself into this one for Sunday! Thanks, Karen.

No matter how you spend it, try to have some colorful fun. This day is only once a year, so push yourself to do something to celebrate it.

And from all of us at ItsNotAboutMe.TV, we wish you a great Earth Day and very Hoppy Easter!

I just want to wish a Happy Passover to all my readers who celebrate it. It’s one of my favorite holidays for many reasons, including the delicious special once-a-year foods, of course!!!

I realize that those of you who are really observant won’t be reading this site for a good part of the next several days, so I just want to remind you to please catch-up on the columns that you’ve missed when you check back in because there will be many interesting events to share with you, including a Kids’ Choice Awards gifting suite and a stunning new boutique that recently opened in the Valley. Everything will just move down the front page and will stay in my archives forever, so all the info will be there when you have the time for it.

Once again, have a wonderful Passover, and have some dark chocolate-covered matzos for me! Yummmmmmm!