Credit Card Thief got not only nearly-paid-off VISA card (used at Bvlgari), but also debit card… which was used in credit-like fashion at Bloomingdale’s… emptying the checking account of yours truly AND over-drawing said account which then emptied the nicely-padded savings account.

Stupid Bank Bastards can do nothing until they have a police report, which, when got the Phone that Rings Forever at the 37th precinct, did not end up filing. So, called the fine, fine NYPD who now informs me, am not able to file police reports by phone. Must do so in person.

H: They tell me I have to go back to NY, but I don’t have any god damned money to back! I don’t even have a credit card anymore.
J: When do you want to go? I’ll drive you any day you need. I can take a sick day anytime.
H: What? I hadn’t even thought… (stunned) Thank you so much for even offering. You don’t know how much that means right now.
J: Yeah, I can imagine. Just let me know what day you wanna go.
H: You’re wonderful.
J: I know.
H: I mean it. I don’t even know how to say thanks.
J: I can think of a few ways….
H: (laughing out loud) It was a nice moment….

Is clear that have had successful results from morning Getting-Ready Ritual when find self being check out, head-to-toe, elevator-eye style… by other women. One even grinned in the, “I’d totally take you home with me, but you probably like boys” way that makes me chuckle into current reading selection and sing silent praises to new Lexington Ave Hair-Dressing Genius.

Realized at 19 that is not necessary to be beautiful if can be well put-together. Thus, the Getting Ready Ritual.
Eyebrows? Plucked.
Blemishes? Concealed.
Clothing? Carefully chosen and strategically placed.

Objective being to appear like ultimate outcome, though planned down to last detail (where, near tragically-absent cleavage, shiny silver and turquoise necklace will fall, and just so tossled hair), are instead happy accidents of frantically rushing off to place of employment.

Call yours truly detail-oriented. Say that am well-groomed or dressed to kill. But do not say am beautiful. Will only tell you to look closer.

If God is in the details, as they say, am going to die one v. holy individual.

Should bite tongue when making blanket statements such as, “I only have good memories associated with New York City.”

One individual spent this afternoon making v. good New York memories on a Bloomingdale’s shopping spree. WITH MY CREDIT CARDS. While yours truly spent afternoon canceling cards and mentally accusing strange people in quirky East Village bar, Shopping Spree Sally was racking up total of $1350 in purchasing fun at Bloomingdale’s, the MTA and some cheap accessory depot-type store (God knows THAT wasn’t a Fish purchase!).

Am in shock. Fine, fine folks at VISA have assure that after 30-45 day investigation, said money will be returned to checking account. THIRTY DAYS? Was ENTIRE paycheck gone in a blink.

Am realizing that should have said was Shopping Spree Sally getting coifed on Lexington Avenue yesterday afternoon. Damn. Maybe next time am robbed, will think more quickly. Could have had free $200 hair-do on said fine, fine folks at VISA. Indeed.

One two-hundred dollar hair-do later (Mrs. Clinton? I’m sorry, Senator, I do not recall that…) and still having refrained from Want-to-Put-My-Brain-to-Sleep drinking, am feeling well-rested and healthy, if not one step closer to glamorous.
Am only missing dark sunglasses and four-hundred dollar shoes.

Spent leisurely dinner with GalPal, eating entire contents of one Italian Restaurant’s galley, and discussing current J situation and Fishy pathetic, irrational need to cling to said debilitated fuckwit. Only result was frustrating poor GalPal. Will have to sit and think up better explanations to satisfy concerned friends. Or self.
Indeed