From Dublin to the Vineyard,: Once you've had it, you want more.

And it's not botox or tattoos. In April, I discovered my inner queen...at 42. I know... I'm a slow learner, some girls find theirs at birth. But having found it in the hills of the Napa valley, (see me-time) and realizing the joy, fun and freedom, not to mention the complete divaliscousness of being a queen. I want more me-time. I am prepared to stamp my feet now because, it's been a while.

I have to be careful because there's an old voice coming to me from my far off homeland, reminding me that I was not born to be queen. Some bitch is trying to de-crown me before I have another moment of fun. And if I let this wicked voice in, I am in danger of remaining in pheasant-mind forever. It, she, tells me to do the laundry and vacuum the house. She taps her painted nail on the Formica counter, and I want to tell this old ghost to go take a hike, I'm busy dreaming of lush spas, funny friends and the finest champagne. I'm dreaming... of MY cleaning team, they are driving right up to the front door, (actually now that I look at it, it would be a cleaning team and their handy husbands because the front door needs to be replaced,) coming in and inch by inch deep cleaning this house, while I am deep cleaned, inch by inch, in the most miraculous spa that was ever created. They send me out looking ten year younger and 20 pounds lighter.

I dream - she demands of me. She needs to go! There is only enough room for one queen around here.

Obviously I'm still working on this queen thing. I suppose one must find the right tiara. I believe that will help. I think if I put on a crown of jewels (costume gems will have to suffice) things will become more clear, priorities will become apparent. I will be able to see the luxury around me without the alarm bells and smoke screens and constant feeling of guilt. I'm not used to thinking about me, and not my off-spring. Yes, a tiara must be the answer to my diva troubles. It will fill me, remind me, I am a queen. I AM! (keep repeating.. breathe)
It has worked for women, queens, since the beginning of time. Once they get the head piece they can feel the power, they can rule vast countries and bring armies to their knees. I should find a large crown because I have difficult children, that seem to have a hearing impediment, they are soooo slow to respond to my demands. Maybe a cloak is required, a new dress of satin and heels, I'm not getting carried away here. I'm not. I'm just saying that if you want to be the queen you have to be empowered and it takes a good set of shoes. Who ever heard of a good queen with a pair of smelly old boots? Nobody. Even the wicked witch had killer shoes. In fact it was ALL about the shoes. So was Cinderella come to think of it. Here's my plan. Begin with a rope and a good horse.