Ask Happy Bitch…

Allow me to get right to the point. Bull shit.

I don't think there is another combination of five words I like less than "I don't have a choice." OK, maybe "I like your camel toe." But even that can be borderline acceptable if it's spoken with a smile and direct eye contact. That could be downright impressive if you ask me.

So why does this phrase make me want to yack like over-cooked lima beans gone cold? We're given 26 letters to play with, and we get to arrange them in any order we choose to create whatever words we want. The order we decide to put them in not only represents what's going on inside of our head, but actually determines what happens around us. Choose your words carefully, for they are the universe's magnets.

I dislike that phrase so much because  continue »

Check out the slide show on YouTube! So fun!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FzR_bH4g_MU

Special thanks to:

What a fun night! The Happy Bitches came out in force last night (along with some fabulous guys). Cosimo's Trattoria took amazing care of all of us, keeping the final four cocktails poured for everyone to taste. All votes tallied and the winner was drink #4.

Oh, you want to know what's in it? OK, here's the winning recipe: 

2 parts raspberry vodka

1 part amaretto

2 parts cranberry juice

generous squeeze of fresh lime

garnished with 2 blanched almonds

We really wanted this martini to represent what a Happy Bitch is about. She's strong, yet sweet. She's pretty in pink and a little nutty. And here's the best part: continue »

Oooh!  Somebody's got their pretty little panties in a bunch! 

Obviously this chick has some sort of evidence or personal experience to prompt this question and the embedded assumption that all men, in fact, are pigs. I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess her man cheated on her.

First, let me say I appreciate all of you who show interest in what I have to say by following this blog and particularly those of you who send me questions. So to my girlfriend who asked this, you need to know that my number one goal with the time, energy, thought and effort I put into this is to give you the best possible feedback and advice I can to lead you toward a happier existence – even if doing so means I need to disagree with you. And it is with love and a genuine desire to help you that I do . . . disagree that is.

I don't doubt this girl  continue »

Let's imagine for a minute that you are having lunch with a girlfriend. It's a gorgeous sunny day, and you landed a great table outside. Your girlfriend is sitting across from you sipping on a glass of wine and wearing a trendy new pair of sunglasses complete with the proverbial rose-colored lenses. She pauses in the midst of the juicy gossip, looks at you and says. "Your face looks awfully pink." 

Now, if you're like me, and depending on how many glasses of wine you've had or where you are in the process of a sip, taste and swallow, you'd likely laugh just hard enough to shoot a bit of your Chardonnay right out your pretty little nose  – right before you call her a ding bat (OK, maybe dip shit).

Why? Because you know damn well continue »

This doesn't count as this week's post. I promise to have some juice for you before the week is out. But I didn't want you to miss out on this.

If you are in the area, please join us on Thursday, June 24 from 6:00 to 8:00pm at Cosimo's restaurant in Poughkeepsie. You may have seen on my Happenings page that we are creating a brand-spanking new pink martini called the Happy Bitch. Join us on the 24th, taste the finalists and vote on the winner. Boys and girls are welcome, but you do need to be on my "in" list. Go to www.HappyBitchBook.com and click on "Get Happy" to join.

Just imagine, before long, you'll be able to order up a Happy Bitch right from the menu. How fun!

Oh, and if I'm feeling happy enough, I just might give away a prize that night. We'll just have to see.

Fine. Then don't.

The way I see it is worry is Enemy Numero Uno. She's a bitch on a tear who stirs up unnecessary crap and leaves a trail of anxiety and misery in her wake. She'll steal your money (or keep you from making it), break up your marriage, make you look bad at work, cause you to look and feel older than you are and even make you physically sick. Given the opportunity, she'll completely annihilate your happiness.

So don't let her.

How? Quit continue »

Sounds like the song of today's modern woman, doesn't it? We hear "I'm so stressed out." with as much frequency as we apply another coat of  lip gloss on girls' night out.

It's been said life is a dance, but I don't think they ever meant today's frantically choreographed tap dance of reacting to one crisis after the next, putting everyone else's demands above our own and the brain-dead notion that we were ever meant to multi-task. It's almost like a badge of honor these days. WTF?

"The faster I do this and the more I get done, the sooner I'll be able to relax."  Oh, so that's how it goes. Really?

News flash: continue »

Let me start by reminding you that I am not a therapist. I'm just happy. So if you are reading this and feel desperately depressed, please reach out to a professional. I do invite you to read on, and my guess is you will find something helpful, but I suggest perhaps you do both.

Now to answering these questions, which believe it or not, are enough to go on. Many, including most therapists, would disagree. Why? It is common practice to dig into the past, drag out any and all painful childhood memories (even those we would have preferred to forget), analyze our not-so-brilliant choices and search for the root cause, the reason, the justification so you can say "Oh, that's why I feel like shit."

But I've got to wonder just how helpful that is. How many people end up continue »

" Lately, I look in the eyes of my daughter, and it feels as if I'm living with a stranger. I don't know who she is anymore. All I'm trying to do is keep her on a good path – get her to do her homework, do a few chores around the house and stay away from kids who are a bad influence. I'm her mother. That's what I'm supposed to do. But she doesn't see it that way. She fights me tooth and nail on everything. I punish her, and her behavior gets even worse. It's as if it has become her life's mission to make my life miserable. And she's doing a damn good job of it. I didn't raise her to be this lazy and disrespectful. I'm at my wits' end."

This woman, Kathy, is a normal mother and just wants what's best for her daughter. What mother doesn't? This challenge certainly isn't unique to Kathy. Millions of parents believe in their heart of hearts that they know what's best for their children and will stop at nothing  to keep them on the right path. After all, it's for their own good.

Or is it? continue »