The party of the jet-setting socialite was a plane wreck. It inspired me to patent a new parlor game, one where each player draws a card with one of the characters of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and we all act out a scene. I get Nurse Ratched. I'm going to start running group therapy and rationing out the cigarettes. Our first session will be on boundaries. Mario doesn't need Ramona to fight his battles and Jacques doesn't need Heather to fight his. Not about his wine game or his exaggerated French accent. He's a pacifist anyway. Last week when offered the chance at fisticuffs with Aviva, he went with a piano concerto in D instead. A friend of mine calls me the Gandhi of reality television, but I think it's actually Jacques.
I Love Kids and I Love Dogs, Too!
Are you beginning to get the feeling that Sonja has more baggage than a skycap at Kennedy? In her defense, she'd had a long night. She told me this when she first arrived at Ramona's, she was still hurting from the night before. But like my Grandma Millie used to say, "An awkward morning beats a boring night," so I hope her night was a knockout because this was a very awkward late morning lunch. And for the record, this is another reason I like my lunches cool and casual, so no one's stuck in a chair when the insults start to fly.