The Irreverent Redhead

Heather Locklear is "Depressed"

noreply@blogger.com (Red Head) — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 13:36:00 +0000

For those of you who live on the moon, it's been reported ad nauseam that actress Heather Locklear has been admitted to a psychiatric facility for "depression and anxiety."

Oh, boo freaking hoo.

What in the world does Heather Locklear have to be depressed or anxious about?

Let's see.

She's got zillions of dollars. Nope. Nothing depressing there.

She's "blonde" (with lots of help from Loreal - and, BTW, there's more $$$ there with her endorsements), gorgeous and has a great body. Again, nothing depressing there. Unless you count being able to walk into any store, fit into everything and look good in it, depressing.

She's twice divorced and is a single mother. Join the club chickie.

She's dating the hottie, Jack Wagner. Yeah this one would really depress the hell out of me!

Now before I get tons of e-mails telling me how unsympathetic I am, that depression is a mental condition and that I should have some empathy, blah, blah, blah, here are the people I have compassion and empathy for. The ones who SHOULD BE depressed. But instead they suck it up, keep going and get on with their lives:

The thousands of flood victims in the Midwest who've lost everything. Remember the young woman who was 5 months pregnant, had a small child and still found it in her heart to worry about her neighbors?
The single mothers who don't have enough money and have to decide whether to feed their children or pay the rent.
The millions of Americans who don't have insurance. They don't have the luxury of getting sick or hurt, let alone "be depressed or anxious."
The thousands of spouses who pray and worry every day about their soldiers in the Middle East.

Heather Locklear is depressed. Give me a freaking break.

Here's a thought Heather - try walking in any of the shoes of the people I described above. Then you'll really have something to be depressed about!

A Personal Chef - What a Waste of The Red's Time!

noreply@blogger.com (Red Head) — Sat, 21 Jun 2008 13:50:00 +0000

I've been out of the country and just got back this week. I was in London for business and then spent a couple of days wandering through Scotland before I returned. Heathrow Airport is worthy of it's own Red blog post. And it won't be a pleasant one! The English sure can screw up a lot of things - beer, dental work (or lack thereof), food (probably some of the worst I've tasted anywhere in the world) and that hideous pit they call Heathrow Airport!

Back in My Red Condo Castle, I decided that with the Red's daily work grind, chairing a large event for November and the honey's play opening off Broadway in a few months, Red life is as wild as my hair.

My Sister, a "natural" blonde (wink, wink), suggested I call a personal chef to help take some of the load off. I called several that I found online. One woman sounded a little hinky and I felt a bad Red vibe from her right away.

Not in My Red Condo Castle. I'd come home and the Red's place could be cleaned out.

Another woman chef said she "didn't like to come all the way to the Upper East Side" but "guessed she could if I signed a contract for her to cook every week for a minimum of a year."

As if!

You can take the person out of Jersey but you can't take Jersey out of the person.

Talked to a third personal chef "who is self-taught." Huh. Sounds like a fancy way of saying you didn't graduate from culinary school. By now, I've pretty well decided that this business is a racket. This "chef" I tried to talk to went on and on about her qualifications, unabashedly dropping "client" names left and right, told me that I'd have to set aside two entire shelves in MY pantry for "her" pantry items.

Let me get this straight. I pay for the crap. You use the crap. I can't use any of the crap that I purchased? Yep. Straight from the mouth of the "chef's" mouth.

Well she's not going to drop the Red's name.

Get a real job! Oh wait. You can't. No respectable restaurant would have any of you.

Hang Up and Drive!

noreply@blogger.com (Red Head) — Tue, 27 May 2008 21:58:00 +0000

I'm doing my part trying to conserve gas. I drive the speed limit. I don't stomp on the accelerator as soon as the light turns green. I walk or ride my bike when I can. Public transportation is certainly an option on days I don't have appointments outside of the office.

But today just about turned my red hair a sickly grey. Driving home from work today in the redmobile, traffic was going a steady 55 mph 4 lanes across. Now that wouldn't be a problem except there are 5 lanes of traffic.

Yep. I'm stuck in the one lane that is not going 55. I'm behind a non-redhead woman going 25, talking on the phone, smoking and not paying attention to anything but the phone call. Cars are speeding past us. Cutting in front of her. Drivers in the cars behind me are honking their horns. We're stuck behind an idiot!

So here's my public service announcement for the day: If you're too freaking stupid to be able to properly multi-task the simple tasks of driving the speed limit while talking on the phone, then HANG UP AND DRIVE or get off the freaking road and get out of my way!

If you're going to continue to drive like an idiot - be warned. You're probably going to kill somebody one day with your inattention and stupidity. I just hope you're smart enough to only kill yourself and not take anyone else with you.

Bathroom Break

noreply@blogger.com (Red Head) — Wed, 21 May 2008 18:35:00 +0000

I try to be a nice person. I really do. But sometimes The Red just comes out. I was on the airplane - minding my own business in my aisle seat. I had a good book, a glass of wine and had no intention of talking to anyone about anything. Anyhoo, the flight was very bumpy and the seatbelt sign was on and we were less than 30 minutes from landing.

I want up. I want to go to the bathroom.

Guess she never heard of Please.

No, I'm sorry but the fasten seatbelt light is on.
Bitch! I want to go to the bathroom!

Huh? OK. I'm still trying to be nice. The Red hasn't arrived. Yet. She turns to the poor slob sitting next to her and starts her rant.

That f...ing bitch won't let me up. I'm pregnant and she doesn't deserve to be a woman! All I said was I wanted to go to the bathroom! She had the f...ing audacity to roll her eyes at me!

Her screeching tirade went on and on. I felt really sorry for him. But she wasn't done with either of us yet.

She rolled her eyes at me! And she rolled her eyes at you when you went to the bathroom! She doesn't deserve to be a woman! Stand up for me you wimp! How dare she deny a pregnant woman the right to go to the bathroom!

On. And on. And on. The poor slob husband tried to calm her, apologized to me for her, and apologized to all of the passengers in the six rows in each direction around us who heard her. And to the airline attendant cowering in the back. Finally The Red arrived.

I didn't get up you stupid obnoxous foul mouth idiot because the fasten seat belt sign is still on. And, if you fall on your stupid pregnant ass and miscarry, my next airline ticket will cost more because you'll sue the airlines for your own stupidity. And if you'd pay attention to anything other than your stupid worthless self, you'd know all I did was look at the sign. I didn't roll them. THIS is rolling them!

OK. I really didn't say the last bit. But The Red thought it. I've been cussed out in several languages but being cussed out in Chinese English is a new one for me. Chinese/American relations may never be the same again.