Barbi Does Miami

mostly from my oxymoronic years between Miami and Milford

Category Archives: party time


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bloggers block

Bloggers block?
I started up a few times since yesterday’s comments. But then pippi longstocking, my first bitch commenteur, came into my mind. like a new member on the panel of my inner voices. when i wrote something personal, she said ‘well you don’t have much to say’, when i tried to express an opinion she said, ‘you are assuming an awful lot’. i was rattled but not deterred. since here i am.  call me oversensitive. ask my husband. i am. i am big, strong, opinionated and oversensitive. blogging may be therapy. may toughen me up. may cure me. so bring on those bitches.
before i left milford i wrote a letter to the local paper. an open letter to the local public school. DV sent all parents an e-mail saying that if they were offended by obamas speech (three weeks ago) on the importance of a good education, then they could keep their kids out of school. you can guess at the drift of my letter. so. not even an hour after pippi’s comment donna calls me and reads me the rebuttal letter from shelley in port jervis. shelley compared obama to hitler, called me a racist and a facist, an obamaddict, turned my name into “barbed” and more. scary hateful stuff. i’m glad i’m here and I won’t be writing any letters to the miami papers anytime soon.
husband arrived. Monday night at 9pm.
we are happy (shut up pippi) he’s finally here. i get to bitch and gossip with him. i get to go to parties now. mr. chow tonight. the press opening of the W hotel. i get to be a grown up. a glamorous grown up. i get to wear my designer dresses. do my hair and make up. wear heels. i get to do what i want with him between the designer sheets of the W hotel, after which i will sneak out like a mistress and go back home, around the corner, be mommy and tuck in my girls.

Miami is getting funner every day.


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r rated

DSC09448

sexy toyboys by the aqua pool both gay and straight, iona, without contact lenses, wonders if they are cute, cute enough for her, desperate to have a crush. no darling that one is not for you, he’s with the short, bold russian billionaire, and he’s a cokehead, see how he paces, white toweling robe over his shoulders like he’s redford/gatsby himself, never off his cell throwing his head back in affected laughter. no not the other one either sweetie. he’s with that older lady, no she’s not his mom, yes he does have an amazing six pack. lets go to the ocean.
where a large glistening brazilian bottom beckons twenty yards upbeach. she’s not wearing a bathing suit, mommy, actually she is, its called a thong. no she’s not, I cant see anything. well it kind off goes between her butt cheeks, iona explains. ohnogross! but the twins are mesmerized. so is a nerdy little guy who comes running by. he checks the bottom out. he slows down. he turns. he stops. he casually loiters to the water’s edge. sits down in the surf. he looks around. he cant help himself. the bottom appears to be asleep. he gets up. he runs twenty yards. he turns. he runs back and crosses the bottom from the other side. she looks up. realizes she has pulled. sits up. flicks her long black hair over her shoulder. runty guy keeps running, pretending not to look. she turns over. now tanning her front, legs spread apart. he runs back. he dives like baywatch into the ocean and drifts casually not far from us. i think he likes her mommy, kiki says. i sigh. i roll my eyes. maybe we should go home and watch tv, iona says. america’s next top model is on. good idea i say, opting for the lesser of the evils.


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calm before storm

leila in a womb of her own

leila in a womb of her own

went out to an intimate lunch party on sunset island where a large table was beautifully laid out  on the jetty but after five minutes we moved inside because the sun was simply too hot ( I’m  used to running inside because of rain or bugs but never because of too much sun). sat next to a gorgeous wealthy brazilian peneleope cruz lookalike who pulled a picture, better not show the national enquirer, of her and obama from her purse, looking like the happy couple, same wide white smile, leaning into each other, she’d organized a huge fundraiser on fisher island for him a year ago, and reward was the sexy photo op which evidently she’s carried around ever since and unabashedly shows off. I must throw all modesty and self effacing tendencies out with the bathwater, have a hunch it might be taken for “loser” here, and must meditate on what i’ll flaunt. meanwhile our house is great. very euro living four floors one function per “etage”: garage/laundry/office on one,  living/dining/cooking on two, sleep/wash and dress (our closet is size of the pattiserie and that includes mark’s kitchen) on three, kids on top floor with huge wrap around terrace. but still had a bout of homesickness last night until i visualized midwinter, four feet of snow and not being able to find any dry matching mittens and then i was ok.  tomorrow first day of school for iona, she’s so brave i can’t imagine feeling  her confidence at fitting in and being accepted. at almost six feet she’s not awkward, like me, but  poised and thrilled at he idea of hundreds of kids who dont know her. but undoubtedly will. the twins are less thrilled and ask me if kids are ever home-schooled in miami.

iona fragmented

iona fragmented