ANGELINA JOLIE SURGERY: UPDATE ON BILATERAL PROPHYLACTIC MASTECTOMY W SILICON IMPLANTS NOT NIPPLE SPARING. ONE FORTNIGHT LATER

First I want you know to know I can't proof read my own stuff... I can't bear to look at myself on film (unless it's CGI'd so I look like Charlize Theron - hasn't happened yet), and I can't bear to listen to anything I've recorded on my CD's - no matter how freaking genius it is and how much disbelief I am in that I improved that right there that well from the heart. That's just not who I am. Mike Meyer's understands this about me. Go ask him. 

RECOVERY: It's been great. (Hahahahaha!) I'm still in pain. I still look like the Bride of Frankenstein that popped out of Tim Burton's head. Again, I love your wife Tim.

Here's the important part. I still think I'm funny like Lewis Black or Kathleen Madigan or "Find the Funny" Tammy Pescatelli (normally I'm more Kelly Osbourne when she grows up and realizes life is not what she thought life was... y'know... like Tori Spelling - entirely like-able people in real life I'm sure).

Not unlike Alec Baldwin and Elizabeth Banks (or as I like to call them Jack Donaghy and Avery Jessup), my husband has been gently, too gently for his usual personality which I pick up as pity - I HATE pity.... wait...

Side bar: My husband and I grew up in different parts of the country so we almost never read each other correctly and have to double check everything to make sure we understood each other correctly. That's not a vote for inbreeding people. I'm a sarcastic, creative, artsy type with prior success whose mind moves to parallel thoughts quickly and gets annoyed when you don't get my joke (like Robin Williams)... and my husband is nice and appropriate, solid and perfect - it's annoying sometimes... I have to hold all my inappropriate/funny/over-the-top-totally-normal-in-NY-but-gauche-here in my head when we are around people and it drives me crazy. 

See, I still think I'm funny. This has to stop or I'm going to have to drive out to LA and find an outlet for it... where do they keep my people the Indian Jews and other people here? NBC? Why do they keep cutting my scenes then? "Oh, we couldn't fit it in the time allotted." Wah-wah-whine-whine-wish I drank wine...

So Mr. BigAndPerfectMultiMillionaire has been suggesting for a few days that I've had a few weeks to recover and aside from Tylenol and not lifting over 5lbs I could probably get back to life.  Bye-bye night-time Valium, hello to my normal insomniac life is what he didn't know he was suggesting.

I FIND THIS INFURIATING - which is a good thing because it's the only emotion that fuels me into any action anymore.  So today, I am not taking anything for pain. I cancelled the housekeeper so I could try to do laundry (Oh yes I am.), then I'm going to pick up the kids with a mountain of red lipstick and a smile and Ralph Lauren on, and have a perfect meal with organic magic prepared for the children when they get home. Then, I'm going to ask them about their day and their homework.  

I will then spend two months donating 60% of our home contents for more "dead space" in it to fill with thoughts (and I have nice things). All this for planning a way to out-earn my Mr. Big. This is going to be fun. He thinks he is so perfect. Watch this...

PS: I'm going to try to watch "House of Cards" for the first time tonight as I fall asleep in the fetal position with liver damaging Tylenol as my only weapon. Let's see how that changes the writing tomorrow. 

Post Post Script: Jimmy Fallon on The Tonight Show needs more females and female comedienne's on his show or I honestly probably won't watch... and he has to fake flirt w them... and some of them have to be WOMEN (jaded and in a suit and NOT 6 inch heels) not just females... but I'm very happy for him and the first day was ahmazing (I developed a crush on Will Smith and Bono and that's saying something because I like to think I don't like anyone) ... I still would rather watch Kathleen Madigan host it... or Conan. Oh look, another white male on TV owning it. That's nice. :) Tee-hee, so happy for him. He seems so humble. :) Bless his heart.  

http://pinkaliciousintentions.blogspot.com - out (drops microphone loudly on the floor, smiles seductively, and exits stage left) #TurnDownForWhat

Prophylactic Bilateral Mastectomy with Reconstruction Recovery Not Nipple Sparing : The First Two Weeks Recovery : RIGHT AFTER I SAT ALMOST FRONT ROW AT THE GRAMMY'S!

Here we are! Happy BLUE JASMINE 2014! 

AND MAY I JUST SAY I LOVE YOU DEAR READER! 

YOU ARE THE BEST PERSON IN THE WORLD!

THANK YOU FOR ALLOWING ME TO FEEL LIKE AN AUTHOR 

FOR THE DURATION YOU READ THIS.

Eat. Sleep. Rave. Repeat. 

Tina Fey, Amy Poehler LOVE

I have conquered the dieting problem. 

1. I don't eat until noon (except black organic coffee) so my blood sugar is not spiked so I am not hungry. 

2. Then organic veggies/protein twice then fruit or whole grain bread cheat before bed. 

3. If I view fruit and whole grain bread as a cheat and food as not pleasure but fuel - this works. 

4. The final element is to drive to a gym far away where the classes make you feel like you are on drugs. The women say things like "KILLER" as they slow squat you (after 35,000 pre squats) with a barbell on your back. (I'm looking at you Les Mills with lust in my eyes for inventing that class.)  The music is so loud you feel you are a young virgin in Studio 54's hey-day at 3am and the danger of an orgasmic orgy with he's and she's and no negative consequences lurks in every corner. 

The "Cardio Party" class girl is so happy and sexy and gorgeous and moves her derriere in ways I don't think I've ever seen or imagined before... and I know I can accomplish any form of dance within a few weeks so I know I am going to dance like a WHORE alone in my kitchen by the end of 2014! 

It's going to be brilliant and the shades will be drawn and none of my Republican friends in their tennies and martini blah-blah, HIGH WASP khaki's will be the wiser. It's my dirty little secret that I am uber healthy AND I feel sexy and I'm doing nothing wrong and can attend all their uber-boat parties and pretend to be boring too and pretend that I adore spreading my legs while upside down in fancy group yoga class (ewwwwwwwwww) in my LuLuLemon (which I DO truly adore) while sipping a water with olives and pretending it's a shaken-not-stirred something! Insert evil laugh here. 

It's OK, I've been accused of being a "HEALTH FREAK" before (and not just by my children)... it gets easier the more I make my peace with it. Stop, you know you love me. Where is Tina Fey to write this better? The phones won't stop ringing in my Gold Scroll Room (that's what I call this room) and it's killing my writing buzz.

RIGHT AFTER I SAT ALMOST FRONT ROW AT THE GRAMMY'S this happened!

Now that you all love me or have clicked on... I have a confession. 

I AM WRITING THIS WHILE ON DRUGS.

Yes, that is correct. This writing is going to get serious now so move on non-serious readers. I said good day sir! There will be no pictures of my breasts because internet security and obscurity is a farce and this is all going to catch up to me someday and I'm a private person who can't shut the hell up for some reason... some days I feel like Lewis Black.  Oh, the drugs are pain meds people, calm down.

It is 2 weeks after my PROPHYLACTIC BREAST REMOVAL w SILICON RECONSTRUCTION.  I am very, very, very high risk and one of my aunt's died from just the chemo.  The most important thing to know about me is I take great pride in my mommy skills. I may have embellished in a few of my past posts for drama or maybe that I was pursuing a reality show (yes, I know how stupid that sounds) but I put my entire main purpose of being, my number one goal on my top ten list is to turn out good, accomplished, citizens with good taste, good manners, and that ace their studies so that they can be the best at what they do. I rewrite my top ten goal list annually in January and those sweet babies are always #1 and it's always the most detailed goal w sub headings and outline form tabs etc etc...  POINT BEING: I am not dying on my children the way my mother died for no reason on me. No one messes w my children's lives unless it's something they can learn from to kick even more a*s at their jobs. That's right cancer I am looking you in the eyes and talking to you. If the 30 Rock I have watched on Netflix while recovering has taught me anything it's that the angry, mean mom's live the longest - so I'm pointing all my anger at cancer.

I'm tired now and I'm freaked out by what I have to type to tell you how it's going to go if you decide to do this. I've been flipping into grande dame mode to cope with this recovery and not being a superhero. I feel like I'm 80 and I'm in pain and I can't move my arms until today. I'm taking pain killers to type this. I'm compensating by wearing pearls and red lipstick 24/7 to cope... like that says to the world "Bit*h, I got this!"

They recommend you buy a front zip sports bra for after (which I did) but I've found more success with this bra. It's a "nylon ruched bra" and costs nothing at Forever 21 or Amazon.com and the greatest gift is I don't have to look at my Bride of Frankenstein breasts until they heal if I just have one on 24/7.

Best Bra For Prophylactic Removal Recovery

WEEK 1: pain (yuck and my stomach does not tolerate NSAIDS so I'm not taking them) drains are in (no biggie, just pin it to the bra and empty twice a day) and record in your book that you record your meds in.

WEEK 1.5: more mobility in arms (up to shoulder level) - I'm still sleeping on the chaise and I THANK GOD for the Evolution station on IHeart.com that earbuds in a heart beat like sound that drowns out the pain all day and all night. My husband writes the meds and times on a plastic cup right next the bed for the 2am crazy pain. We record it all in the book.  It  reminds me of such a book we made when the children were born and we recorded when they diaper changed/ate/nursed/etc - there's something so reassuring about having a plan and doing something well and in an organized fashion.

WEEK 1.7: Took myself off all pain meds and said to self, "HA! 6 weeks to heal from this? I'm doing it in 3! I'm invincible! I also may have to drive my kids to school in a few days because the friends have been leaned on too hard in my opinion (I sent Thank You baskets/texts/handwritten cards but still.) so I need to know what that feels like."

WEEK 2: Pain meds before bed only, the pain SUCKS and it's been 3 days of being a tough girl. That's enough now. Heal like a person. Mini-goal, am able to tolerate Netflix instead of just deafening dance music 24/7.

WEEK 2.1: Pain meds at night, Tylenol only in day, still exhausted, starting to not to only want to eat pizza and chocolate and comfort foods. The veggies are back. Apples taste good again. I'm getting a grip. It still sucks. I still probably can't drive for more than one ten minute session as needed with two hands.

The lift no more than 5 lbs for 6 weeks post surgery rule is in effect still. My children and husband are the most perfect people in the entire world and I am so so so so so grateful for them.  


THEN THERE'S THE IDEA OF BECOMING ACCUSTOMED TO HAVING SILICON IN ME!

I am vain, I'm not that vain, and I NEVER would EVER want to be one of those girls w fake breasts. My idea of perfect breasts are 
1. The ones I had (except for the decolletage area changes from nursing)
2. A skinny ballerina disco girls 
3. Grace Adler's
4. One of the Olson Twin's - y'know a skeletal figure woman who grows older and only wears Chanel. 
A Blue Jasmine Cate Blanchett type. 

Blue Jasmine

OMG Alec Baldwin is in 30 Rock AND Blue Jasmine (which I saw on a flight to Paris a few months ago). I wonder if I have Alec issues. What does this say about my suit wearing dad and my suit wearing husband and my polo and khaki wearing son. No, we are not doing that now... or ev.er.

SO, once these stupid balloon bags "fall" under my built up strong pectorialis muscles... what will they look like? Does Angelina Jolie look "done"? (I'm not Googling that, I don't want to suffer the insane search results.) I asked for the same size silicon as previous me fyi.

Do I regret it, no - it was the smart thing to do with the current science available to us I think. I thought about it and researched it for years before I reallllly pressured my husband to make it happen. That sounds worse than it is.  

Am I happy with it now? No, I feel like a vacant Barbie bride of Frankenstein. Like a Tim Burton creation. No offense Tim. I love your wife. 

Getting fat and muscle put in place of silicon would have been a much larger operation to heal from so I opted against it.  I hate that I had to do this surgery. Once I heal and feel capable again I am CERTAIN I shall feel more positive about the entire thing. 

This was smart. This was the right thing to do. I used to be a scientist and I still play one in my head. 

Written with love and Jon Lovitz and Liz lemon and Alec Baldwin, Aziz Ansari, my hero Lucille Bluth, Mike Meyer's and someone holding a glass of Dewar's and a sexy Greta Garbo type playing in the back of my head, sarcasm, and all the Jewish boys (and girls) I kissed at Bat Mitzvah's... but most of all written with Megan Mullally and Anna Wintour and Judy Gold, Valentino, Karl Lagerfeld, and mostly Ralph Lauren in my head. 

Not with Jay-Z - who made eye contact with me at a recent award show for over 30 seconds while sitting next to his gorgeous and drunken wife and like a deer in headlights I did not know what to do so I just smiled and stared... but then it happened two more times and then I had to look away.  Honey, unless you want to sign this singer, my life is complicated enough. It's hard being Stepford Mary Poppins. 

And NOT with Louboutin: who needs to sell his shoes with the manual on the Band-aid frictionless stick and pads you have to get to survive wearing his ridiculous, overpriced genius marketing red dragon Khaleesi torture demons! Love you CL! That's just how we play! Kiss-Kiss!

I love you all. I want YOU to know, when I get better in 3 weeks and my ridiculous silicon mountains have fallen to their appropriate location in 4 months.

 I WILL find this dress, purchase it, and OWN it at the next charity ball we go to. I know just the one. Insert evil laugh here! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand she's back. 

Ralph Lauren Grey Beaded Dress Fall 2014

photo by Marcus Tondo

Post Script: Madame Buttons you need more gigs. I want to hear more of that airy voice. #JustCloseYourEyes

http://pinkaliciousintentions.blogspot.com - out (drops microphone loudly on the floor, smiles seductively, and exits stage left) #TurnDownForWhat

I've let myself go... #SummingUp #Refocusing #2013Resolutions! #BringIt# #It'sBritneyBit

Blonde to Brunette!

I've let myself go...

1. I have not had the desire for my upscale Vodka martini.

2. I have been eating almost every meal out.

3. I have not gone to the gym.

4. I have not changed my sheets in 2 weeks.

5. I have not logged onto Facebook and marketed anything (it was going well but I hate it and it is joyless now - and it has been stressful for 3 years - and it feels manipulative - as if "What can I post that will get the fans to LIKE - without being outrageous. How shall I phrase it for maximum effect. Blech.)

6. With the end of 2012 came the end of my resolution to stop "trying" to make more friends.  I have them, I have social things to do at the club, the parties and all... they're around me, but it's not fulfilling me the way the thrill of a job did... and the social anxiety of "what did what she say really mean" was killing me. I have found peace without... and I am too much of a goody-two-shoes to be photographed in anything that wasn't a work party anyway - so I can go back to work. Wheeeee! At least that always meets with expected outcomes. What?

So here's the kicker. I got on the scale and haven't gained a lb even though I am not starving myself at all. Yes I am JUST not overweight but that's still not skinny by Hollywood standards.

I am still dressing better. I can walk around in work-chic clothes because I am not running back/forth to/from the gym.

My allergy med days are still AWFUL but it is Winter and I can take a few days off and the last day off get through it with one day of Afrin before allergy meds again and so I have a few lucid days (today is not one of them).

I feel ok not overworking myself and not being so masochistic.  For someone like me, a shy artist at heart, I have gone through life feeling like I must push myself and only when I am uncomfortable am I doing something worth doing. Hate chemistry? That's your new major. Hate to be on stage? That's your weekly career. The gym and starvation hurts? It's good for you and it's your answer!  Suck in your guts, shoulders back, paste on a smile and go forth! Seriously, since I was 9. I will be 40 within a year and really... that's enough of that.

My children are doing so well, getting their A's, getting complimented on their manners, clothes, the care and consideration with which they conduct themselves... my husband is working too hard and succeeding at what he does (nothing new for him, he was like that when I met him), so maybe I can chill a little and find some ways to smile more that are genuine.

I feel like this is my year to stop the fantasies... of writing, of Paris - I've been there and I think we are going again this year but I will be separating it from the magic-thinking some of us romantic types do about it.  I read a blog by a male who typed something like, "stop the magic thinking about writing. just do it, do it daily, and it will unfold"... no I don't think that's what he typed... but that was my take away.

SOOOOOO this year's goals.

1. Keep all the good stuff rolling along. The kids, the hubby, the home, the famiglia, the country club crap.

2. Photo's of me as the brunette I am this year (because last year's blonde is gone and never ever ever getting back together). This is also known as proof to self that I am not the dog I think I am - because the Photoshopped version of me is lovable no matter how many times people come up to me in person and tell me I'm pretty.

3.  Make an EP (is that what they call a 3 song demo) out that summarises (sp) my skill set of the singing I put 20+ years into but hate - but I put SO MUCH WORK into it and there is no PhD to show for it so really what a waste... gawd. Ugh.

4.  Then write, write, write, write - don't waste one more international family vacation without some writing to show for it - not just photo's.

5. Be more genuinely joyful. Do what feels right and smart and correct but also what feels good... I think. Not too good though - not like ID good. lol Except on occasion and with hubby only. Ohgawd - embarrassed - need to flee.

Happy 2013!!!!

http://pinkaliciousintentions.blogspot.com - out (drops microphone loudly on the floor, smiles seductively, and exits stage left) #TurnDownForWhat

Drunk Mommy: Edwin St. Aubyn: At Last

I must confess I only blog when I have had four Vodka Belvedere's with water, Perrier, or Diet Coke. This is one of those moments in time. I have the luxury of 20 hours at home. No one to make a fool of myself in front of. I do not drink in public except maybe the occasional 1 or two.

My father is getting remarried. It has been 4 years since my mother has passed on. He is frankly no good at no one telling him what to do. He needs a wife, a companion, someone to be a generous hero to... and he has all that money he "easily" earns. What is he going to do with it... fund his younger daughter (not me who does not need it thank you very much) with it?

So he is getting married, and she is a good choice. And I suddenly can't shake the feeling that my brother-in-law receives this as a silent, undeclared RSS feed. OH god, I hope I am not sobering up! There was so much I wanted to say... about my new love for the Edwin St. Aybyn trilogy and how many feelings it evokes. People of privileged and all his descriptive metaphors and all that. Ugh, too sobering up.

Maybe my husband full of appropriate gravitas and accomplishments is right... there is no need to declare one's diary. One should just accomplish and strive to leave the world a better place than when one entered it. Ugh... #Child&ThenHousewifeWithAnEdgeForBusinessWhoCurrentlyFeelsEntirelyUseless #PerfectPracticalMommyWhoCanTellASaltyJokeWhenTheKidsLeave

http://pinkaliciousintentions.blogspot.com - out (drops microphone loudly on the floor, smiles seductively, and exits stage left) #TurnDownForWhat

Dukan Diet Day 2 (non-dairy)

I am doing the Dukan for the first time. Am on day 2 and I can't do dairy and am usually vegan so am forcing myself to have eggs (i enjoy) and chicken (i get grossed out about).... but something had to be done. I put on 8 lbs over the last few months and feel very uncomfy in my own skin and counting calories makes me miserable all day. The protein thing most definitely works well for me.

I ate eggs and chicken and oat bran yesterday and lost 3 lbs of water weight (but i had just had something salty/sweet the days before... it was delicious disgustingly good thai curry... so i had a lot of water weight to lose :) )

i am hoping adding approved "cruise" veggies back in my life on day 5 doesnt make me crazy hungry all the time again.  i love how on their website it gives you a concrete weight loss amount by a concrete day. so motivating and bold. love it! 5lbs down, 25 to go!


WAIT: THEN I REALLLLLY FIGURED OUT HOW TO LOSE WEIGHT AND HAVE FUN DOING IT: CLICK HERE

http://pinkaliciousintentions.blogspot.com - out (drops microphone loudly on the floor, smiles seductively, and exits stage left) #TurnDownForWhat

On Writers

I have been thinking a lot about writers in general and writing. It's kinda' like when you decide to be an actor and just do it... and do it... 'til you get acclaim for it... or not. I have always wanted wanted to write my story. It has no big, huge, dramatic, moments... rawther more, teenage, big, dramatic moments. What is it like growing up on stage? What is it like doing a job you don't reallllly want to but know know you should appreciate because it has it's HUGE, celebrity-impacting moments. What is it like wanting to write a tell-all but being married to a normal, responsible adult who would never want to be involved in a tell-all story.  How do those "Real Housewives" make peace with it all... all the editing for bad behavior? I suppose in this day and age it will be soon forgotten or unimportant in the grand scheme.

Sooo writing - I wanted to tell my mother's story. I wanted it to be the example my friends wanted it to be, "Tell us how your mother lived. She obviously had it all figures out and was such a shining example."  I say they should go to India. That mode of thinking will help them. That big-picture mentality would be nice. They like that. 

I read memoirs... I read memoirs of people in a mind-life crisis. I read Penelope Trunk. I read women circa their 30's and 40's (I was 9 when I realized my awesome mother was awesome in her 30's and only getting more awesome in her 40's - prettier, smarter, more everything - and I knew that was THE AGE to be - the age Anna Wintour is frozen in to me.)  and I knew she was who I wanted to be... an independent woman with an amazing moral compass and was top drawer.

Then I grew up and wanted to be the "Auntie Mame" version of me mum. Amazing, perfect, and hec yeah a little glam. Oh, gawd I am boring myself. Am gonna' go finish this champagne and plan an anti-food-binge to get ready for the fashion show. #NervousNellyIsMyNewName :-)

Be My Book Editor Please! Am Writing An "Anti-Aging Happily Ever After" book...

i remember thinking "be careful not to break it" and as i flipped over the frame on the kitchen island  to properly align the photo that would hopefully brighten my mother's day even a little, because what else could i possibly do to help that wasn't being done, it shattered. i froze. i stopped and just stared at the way the glass had broken. long strips of knife like strips... sharp at every corner... like shiny edged daggers aligned in a beautiful fan shape. one had speared me in the thigh (a scar that never ceases to remind me of that moment) and was sticking straight up and i just watched it for what felt like minutes but in reality was seconds. I wasn't sure what my next tactical movement should be but also wanted to live in that escapist moment for as long as i could.


what a relief in an odd way to pause all the chaos and fear and panic that raced through my head constantly and stare at the beautiful fan shape of glass sticking out of my thigh. i wanted to live in that moment. i wanted to swim in that moment, to never leave it... like a good book you want never to end.


my mother... my mother... my mother... my smiling, nurturing, encouraging, role modeling best friend and the woman i had been obsessed with and based all my thoughts, life outlooks, and opinions on since i was born was going through the unthinkable - fighting a battle with metastasized cancer that had come back like some unchecked demon viking to wreak havoc on an otherwise perfect, generous, positive being.


we were there every day. all of us. the father, the mother, the daughter, the surgeon, the son, the daughter, the son-in-law, the son-in-law to be, the caretaker, the other doctor, the healer, the nutritionist, the cook, the woman that helped you imagine healing, the modern scientist, the ayurvedic healer, the friend, the other friend, the many friends, the people with tears, the people with strength, the idiot brother who called so say goodbye in the midst of her battle (who i try to forgive every day) as if she already was going as if it was decided (idiot monster nightmmare that he is), the helpers, the protein shakes when the chemo hurt her GI too much, the organic,the vegan, the many books on cancer, the injustice, the shock, the things unsaid, the managing of a grand mal... and i just wanted to live in that glassy, shiny, dagger in my thigh moment for as long as i could..


how did this all begin? where does cancer begin? on a toxic railroad in a 3rd world city? do we pick up something as children, store it in our fat for 20 yrs and then it becomes cancer? are we hormonally imbalanced and perimenopause makes it happen? what are the secrets the centenarians hold? why do some centenarians drink and smoke and still live forever... why should i be good if it doesn't up my chances at immortality.


This process brought me to where I am now... happy in my CRON world of Anti-Aging I call it. The older I get the harder i CRON and find new ways to use the plastic surgeons magical filler. i want to spill all my secrets...

http://pinkaliciousintentions.blogspot.com - out (drops microphone loudly on the floor, smiles seductively, and exits stage left) #TurnDownForWhat