A friend, a very attractive friend I might add, has given away all her turtleneck sweaters.

"How come?" I innocently asked. Her response was something to do with the framing of her jowls. "But it hides the neck" I countered. Unlike Nora Ephron, I suspect she hates her jowls more.

I find my insecurities are more total body centric. 

And of course, the what to wear is exacerbated by "who am I?"

This should not be confused with a philosophical question, answered in some esoteric, abstract way.

If you have no schizophrenic tendencies you won't be able to relate. For those of us who do, it's a real quandary. "Am I hip and trendy, buttoned up and corporate, bohemian?" So we poll our collective selves for clues. If the quandary is over what to wear on a date, check out what he was sporting on his profile. If it was shorts, black socks and sandals, you can always cancel the encounter. Unless, of course, his name is Rolfe. 

But, in the spirit of having absolutely no clear sense of self, one can always resort to looking at what your favorite celebrity wore. Then, via modern technology click and find where you can get that exact same look. 

Yeah, that should do it. Unless, of course you are still grappling with the "who am I" part of the equation. Today I am Madonna, tomorrow Madeleine Albright. Perhaps, even better, a combination of the two. 

Is language precise?

Some of my friends are terrific grammarians. I know this as I am the recipient of their forwarding to me all the correct uses of the words I mangle. Like that last sentence.

Ah me, clearly must have been ogling some unattainable jock during high school English class. Wonder what he is doing now? 

For me, it's trying to remember all the rules. 

I can work with some rules of course. Don't wear white after Labor Day, don't stare at a deranged person are two that immediately come to mind. It's the dire consequences of breaking those specific rules, I suppose. Really, you have to get the police involved, fashion or otherwise. 

So then, how to keep it all straight. And even if you use the correct tense, is that what you really meant to say?        

Reading the wonderful collection of short stories by Pam Houston, "Cowboys Are My Weakness" I came across this sentence which I thought brought this home; "When he asks you if you would like to open a small guest ranch…understand that this is a rhetorical question. Label these conversations future perfect, but don't expect the present to catch up with them."

Others that come to mind are "will you love me forever? I would if I could; I'll do it tomorrow." 

Correct usage, truth optional. 

Know what "Love, 123456, password, your social security number, letmein" are?  They are baby food for hackers to gain entry into your world of, well, everything you hold near and dear. 

Want to make it a tad more challenging for them? Add one capital letter, special characters and an asterisk so, for example, if 12345678  is changed to ">@#$%^&* it would take your reasonably adept hacker 2.1 centuries to gain access, instead of a mere 2.4 days."

Which is the same amount of time it would take me to remember it.

I am told, that if I do a daily crossword puzzle and/or study a foreign language, I will increase my capacity to remember… something. That, I am here to tell you, would be encouraging to me if my foreign language skills enabled me to converse with someone over 3 years of age. As for the crossword puzzle, if stuck, I cheat.

What to do? Perhaps a Sarah Palin and inscribe this hieroglyphic password on your palm. If you bathe daily and don't perspire I guess that would work. Second thought, tattoo. As long as you are not kidnapped, or caught on tape waving your hands at something or other, you might be secure in the knowledge that you won't forget it, and are, possibly, not hackable.

So choose your password carefully. If your identity is, so very sad, stolen wouldn't it be somewhat satisfying to you if the password you had come up with was a really, down and dirty, nasty expletive? 

It's a slippery slope.

At what point in time does admiration/adulation morph into cringing/critical?

For me, the half time show during Super Bowl XLIV might answer that question. So sad.

Any media quote that starts with "if you love The Who and are old enough to remember…." is actually an oxymoron, don't you think? Old enough and remembering, you're kidding.

And surely, those who were sweet young things during the hey day of The Who might possibly have been in some sort of drug induced haze, where remembering the next day was challenging.

"The newest song", this particular article went on to say, "was 32 years old the oldest was 41." And people ask me what I have been doing and how I have been spending my time?

Okay, I'm just a tad harsh. After all, they did remember all the words and Peter Townsend was able to keep his rotator cuff rotating. 

That's two for two.

Can I presume that you know what MeetUp.Com is all about?

In a sentence or two, it's an on line social networking site developed to give people an off line connection to other people. "Bowling Alone" (which says it all) was the inspiration for the concept. "Clapping with One Hand" might have worked, too.

As of the last statistics I lifted from Wikipedia, it has 5.7 million members, 66,725 groups. That number changes every seven seconds. Or less.

Their site is a magical mystery tour. Who knew, or could remotely imagine, the groups people are looking to form or join.

Linguist that I am, I saw one for Celibataires which I immediately assumed was for those who were, yeah, wanting to either celebrate their purity or have company in their misery. Not so much, it apparently means unmarried. Anyhow, at this moment in time it has no meet up group.  Go figure. What I realized is that I am looking for a meet up group that would instruct me in 'how to put an accent in foreign words when using a Mac.'

What struck me is, if this site is the purported panacea for loneliness, why are there so many lonely people? Maybe the formation of a "take your meds and then join us meet up" is an idea. 

Okay, maybe not.

Craig's List apparently started with a similar mission. Looks like, for me, that figuring out how to get people to work and play well together is a very very profitable concept. 

Now that is a meet up group that I would like to become a member of…

Are there moments when you indulge yourself in a fairly robust fantasy life?

I do.

And I am here to tell you, that if I were to tell you, it would be way too much information. Except for this one. 

Double Agent. Actually, it could be singular agent. A spy. Undercover. Dark glasses and all.

But, as I think about it there are some caveats to consider. I am pretty clear I couldn't buy into the trenchcoat wearing thing, for example. I really don't look good in belted garments. Hats either. Frankly, it's pretty hard to tuck in a head full of curly hair without looking somewhat like  Harpo Marx. 

And heights. I am not so good with heights. They are, those spies, always slinking along a crevice, or running around on top of a moving train. Unless they provided a tether I really couldn't preform that action either, could I?

Maybe I need to rethink this one.

Except, I really do like the potential accessories that one must have. Here's one in development. Perhaps by the time it is perfected I will have shorn my locks, lipoed my waist and dealt with my phobias, all in time to don this thing. It's a wrist top computer. And it works with gesture commands. It's a bracelet that acts like a smartphone.  How cool how chic, how 007. 

My new Bourne again identity.

Was Leonardo di Vinci a cross dresser?

The enigmatic smile, as well her identity, has baffled art historians for centuries. 

Now, it appears, a group of Italian scientists are seeking permission to exhume di Vinci's remains to conduct carbon and DNA testing. You see, theories have swirled about that the Mona Lisa was actually a self portrait. These scientists claim, if they have the opportunity to poke and prod his remains, they can dispel or prove this conundrum.

Goodness me.

Will the version of the song, made famous by Nat King Cole, have to be re-recorded? Monsieur Lisa, Monsieur Lisa, doesn't have quite the same roll off your tongue rhythm, does it?

Was Salvador Dali's rendition not his self portrait, simply his being prophetic? 

Will Dan Brown have continued fame and fortune by unraveling this mystery in another epic? Will Tom Hanks keep his hair long for the next installment? Did you, as I did, feel embarrassed for Tom's wife, Rita Wilson, in her giggling, over the top, performance in "It's Complicated"?

It will probably take another century before the French consider giving permission to the Italians to undertake this project.  

Just as well. Leonardo rest in peace.

My understanding, familiarity, comprehension of the need for all the latest high tech gadgets has been chronicled here in better late than never. In a couple of words, huh and why?

But, we apparently need to have the newest and latest at our fingertips so we now have, ta da, the iPad. What does it do? What doesn't it do?

The pundits are pointing out that it doesn't have a camera, nor does Flash work on this device (this, I am told, is the ubiquitous software necessary for video and animation). Whatever that means. Reading more about it, it sounds to me that this new iPad phenomenon is basically a boom for the e book competition. 

It's the deliciously randy responses to this introduction that has me engaged. MadTV has, thus far, won for me the "best explanation for what we might want to do with this particular device." 

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lsjU0K8QPhs&w=425&h=344]

Work for you?

Will Rogers said "when you put down the good things you ought to have done, and leave out the bad ones you did do, that's Memoirs."

And herein I have the proof. Let's see.

We've got the memoirs of those who have broken with reality. A few titles. "The Shame of Me," "Behind the Smile," "A Memoir of Madness." But my favorite in this category is Sarah Palin's "Going Rogue: An American Life." If she isn't the poster girl for delusional behavior, who is?

Then we have a spate of memoirs from the folks who have lost, gained, lost, regained, struggled with, conquered or simply threw in the towel on being a chubbette. My favorite was penned by a 23 year woman. Her memoir is called Hungry. It is the heartwarming, heartbreaking, tear jerking story of how she came to accept her curves. Did I mention that she is a former size 2 model who is now a size 12 full figured model. Okay, let's look at this more critically. She's 23. She's a size 12. Maybe she should be lumped in with the above mentioned reality testing section. Isn't she inspiring? Perhaps, the new patron saint of Weight Watchers? 

The last group of "tell alls" were lumped together in the New York Times, under the heading CrunchTime Selling Tales of the Great Downturn. Otherwise known as Layoff Lit. Here we have the memoirs of a bunch of heretofore successful women who, as a result of the economy, found themselves part of the ranks of the unemployed. But, resourceful group that they are, were able to settle into their second homes, let go some of the staff, and regroup by selling their stories. For the big bucks. No unemployment lines for them. Only lines in their future will take place at Barnes & Noble for their respective book signings. 

So there you have it. Perhaps you'd like to take Mr. Rogers (Will, not Fred's) advice and critically and carefully examine your lives to see what it is that you ought to have done that you can write about as if you did it. I am.

Lance, baby, are you considering another go around for this year's Tour de France? Move back up to number one? Got an idea for you. It's the latest in bike technology. The E-bike.

Actually, it's not so new technology.

Apparently the motorized bike has been around for one hundred years. Who knew? Seems that it had not caught the mind, imagination or wallet of the American population. Until now, that is. Or at least that's the hope of Sanyo and other entrants into this marketplace.

A greener environment? A slimmer you? Clearly, the marketers will figure it out.

But here's what I would do. 

Actually two things.

First,  I would put the advertising for these bikes on every "find your honey sweetie baby on line dating site". I, for one, see the various and assorted profiles stating, "I bike 200 miles before breakfast" and " will happily do another 100 later in the day." That, heretofore was an immediate delete-delete. But now, why it could be a level playing field. I can keep up. Just need to find the new technology for skiing, bungee jumping and paragliding…

And for every card carrying AARP member…the motorized bike is a much much sexier option, don't you think? Yup, it's the bike for me.