Dear Diary,
I guess it's YOUR birthday too, because I've been keeping my diary since I met Bernie over 50 years ago. He was magical then.
After the first few years, he was manageable, then malleable. Then he became incorrigible. The twitches got worse, but the income stream made up for it.
We had fun, we traveled. He worked, and I helped out as much as I could, considering I never understood what he did for a living. Are you taking notes Mr. Picard??
Someone must have raised the boys, I can't recall exactly who right now--but I do remember that awful tantrum that they made at the Elliot Shop on Miracle Mile.. But I know that I paid the bills, and helped them pick out their homes and decorations.
Well, Happy Birthday to me - some joke!
A year ago I had a dream life as a dream wife. We jetted over to Cap D'antibes for three star meals for Bernie, and salads and lots of chilled White Burgundy for me.
Now it's No Jet, no Cap D'antibes, and, of course, No Bernie. Please do not even think to ask which I miss the most, but let's say " il n'est pas le Bernie".
So it's the big "69" today! and if you want to see the cake that Bernie and his buddies in the clink "made" for me, just take a look.. How utterly disgusting. In fact, I am writing this while lying in bed. My own cake will be made by the one cook who is still here, decorated with Xanax topped with Ambien for the decorations. ( I just hope I have 70 Ambien left - one to grow on).
Bernie, Bernie... this is what I get for my birthday after all I've suffered and sacrificed for you??? This is now your idea of funny?? Well, Bernie, it isn't funny. My life isn't funny, not being able to go to Bergdorf's in peace isn't funny. I am Not Laughing.
My whole life was in your hands, now your whole life is in the hands of the Government and Abby the Somalian " pirate-baker." How low have you fallen thinking this is an amusing idea for MOI- the ultimate dignified, quiet, self possessed lady?
You should be ashamed of yourself!! What will our boys think? What will my sister and Shana think? All our former friends will be laughing all day. That's a large group of ungrateful people.
Well, I'm a resilient girl. I always was. Thank God my daddy and mommy made good money, and I invested my share wisely, so I do not have to be totally dependent on you and this mess you have left behind.
Not that I normally eat cake much anyway, but it was extremely thoughtful of Carl Shapiro, a true gentleman, to send over a William Greenberg Jr. Cake with his "Best Wishes for my Future Safety."
What do you think he means by that?
I would love to dress in a spring Chanel suit and shoes, with some of my lovely jewelry and go to lunch with some girl friends. And I really can't count the number of friends on one hand. They're all in hiding.
So, I cannot wear any jewelry. My friends are in hiding and so is what I have left. I cannot charge lunch any place decent, and, due to my spending all my time alone with you - you twitching, sweaty, lying son of a bitch bastard- I don't have any girl friends.
Happy Birthday to me indeed.
"It's my birthday and I'll cry if i want to, cry if I want to , cry if I want to, you would cry too if this happened to you.."The Book of Ruthie Continues apres le birthday, and when I have calmed down a little. A few pieces of the Xanax/ Ambiein cake should help.
OK , Diary, back into the secret hiding place.
I cannot bare to look at how much smaller the cash pile is. Thank God for the diamonds and the other things I cannot discuss in any forum.
