My friend Jane threw a great party for her birthday, instructing her guests to dress as characters from a Beatles song. The creative challenge was enough to make me accept the invitation and even more noteworthy, to get up off my ass and actually go.

As you can easily see, I was Baby from the song “Baby’s in Black.”  I am even wearing a bib that says ‘Mommy Loves Me.’ Please note that I’m wearing a flared satin evening coat; I am not really that fat.  It was pointed out to me that I could also be the title character of “Lady Madonna.” Thus, I  unwittingly achieved a double Beatles reference!

Anyway,  it was a uniquely entertaining evening on the grounds of a stunning mansion, Beatles karaoke blasting, baby-boomers mingling and asking each other stupidly: “Who are you supposed to be?”

We were advised to bring our own liquor, so we brought a bottle of white wine someone had given us for some occasion. We added it to a large group of bottles near the pool area. A lady walked up and asked: “Is there any good wine here?” I told her, “We just brought this, you are welcome to have some!” She looked at our bottle and shook her head in disgust, remarking “No, that is not a good wine.” After she left, my husband and I shared a moment of stunned delight at encountering such a rude bitch.

Much later, my husband pointed out a person in the distance and said “You have to check out those pants, they’re printed with the Maharishi!”

Look at these fucking pants and scream WHAT THE HELL?!?

I  stopped the pants-wearer, who was pleased to explain how she got them. You can take any picture to Wallgreens and they will make you a pair of pants with a pattern of your image!

Obviously, I fell in love with this wonderful woman. My heart went clunk. Isn’t she lovely? She even asked if I was an artist, which was so flattering. I had to explain, “No, I am nothing.” But still, I think I have made a new friend, and the pleasure in connecting reminded me that in certain moments, life is almost worth living.

What the fuck is up with the “big boy pants?” It’s such an annoying expression that after hearing it three times, I need it to go away.

Did everyone hear Debbie Wasserman Schultz tell Romney and his staff to put on their big boy pants and big girl pants? I love Debbie, but I can’t endorse her word usage. What’s wrong with “man up,” even though I hate that one too.

Man up! It’s like everyone had to reach for a stupider way to accuse someone of being weak or unmanly. Big boy pants was also used by ex-CIA head Jose Rodriguez to defend the use of torture during interrogations:

Jose Rodriguez: We needed to get everybody in government to put their big boy pants on and provide the authorities that we needed.

Lesley Stahl: Their big boy pants on–

Jose Rodriguez: Big boy pants. Let me tell you, I had had a lot of experience in the agency where we had been left to hold the bag. And I was not about to let that happen for the people that work for me.

What a fucking cunt!  He needs to be water-boarded, then we’ll talk about big boy pants.

Earlier this year, some idiot elected to leave a comment here, regarding something I had written about grief, and advised me to put on my “big girl pants.” I was so offended that I deleted the comment. I never censor my comments but I had to make an exception. My pants are big enough and I’ll wear whatever pants I want, Mongoloid, Esq.!

How do you feel about big boy pants? Are you ready to nominate it for worst jargon of the year?

I made fun of a hideous pants-skirt combination from McQ, but now I see that the pants-skirt is pretty damn good. As long as it’s Comme des Garcons. This ruffly one is saved by the leather buckles. I’d tap that.   But this other one with the more traditional kilt (straight front, pleated back) now that makes my heart race*.

Grown-ups, go straight to Colette online before the 9 year old bloggers get to them!

* Just kidding. Is there another phrase I can use? What about “that makes me hard?” Suggestions!