“Mom, you’re a whore for MAC!” is what my hi fashion daughter exclaimed recently when she started hawking Mary Kay products. Could it be she called me such a name because MAC has its own room in my house…well I don’t know but she’s given me fair warning that MAC will soon be evicted and Mary will be moving in!

Stay tuned for my makeover! www.marykay.com/kelishar

The best part of today is that the Eagles are still in the playoffs after kicking the Giants behind! No fair weather fan am I - bleeding green all the way. And that ain’t the only green I was bleeding today.

Neiman’s, Burberry and Nordstrom, me and my daughter out today doing our thing, something has to go back. Well that is once I receive that bustier in the mail then I’ll know for sure what I’m wearing Thursday night. 

And if all that wasn’t enough for a migraine, my daughter, the fashionista that she was trying on a pair of $300 jeans in Neiman’s and ripped them so bad she had to tell the sales lady who simply said they were probably dry rotted. Had to have been because my duaghter butt is not that big. She must’ve been as stressed as I because she next dropped a whole pizza on herself. Tsk, tsk the wonders of shopping the Brenda and Kelisha way.

I think the menu is set or at least it better be or my girlfriends are going to choke me for trying to feed the entire Liberty Place when what I’m supposed to be doing is making money not spending it. Oh well they should know me by now.

However my biggest problem is this xtra tit I’ve got growing on my chest. Why does a pimple always show up at the most inappropriate times and why do they have to be so damn big. Anyway that’s just mother natures way of playing jokes on you but I’ll live with it or maybe just make a quick visit to a plastic surgeon.

I’m 7 days away from launching my 4th novel and I’m stressed out. I have a milion thoughts in my head about what I should’ve done, should’ve written and even worse is that I’m tripping that nobody will show up.

The party is next Thursday, Jan 11th and by then I’ll surely be a basket case. My friends pay me no attention as they say I act like this at the launch of every book and my daughter just wants to know when we’re going to Neiman’s for an outfit. My son, well he says he’s bringing 40 people.

Whatever the case may be I just sent out the email blast so stay tuned cause I’m gonna include you in on the countdown.

Yes, it’s finally airing on Sat., Nov 4, 6:00pm EST and I’ll be my biggest critic so please tune in!

However, if it were truly MY STORY and were covering just the last month then it would go something like this. On October 9th I lost my Daddy and being a Daddy’s girl well it’s really been more emotions going through me than I’ve ever had to deal with. He was what they call “a man’s man” and when he got tired of fighting and hurting he called in his chips and said the “Deal is Done,” proving to be a man of courage even in his dying. Okay no tears for today, maybe.

Then there’s the new book coming out in January Every Woman’s Got a Secret and I’m tripping about whether to have a launch party or to let it do its own thing. I swear this book had me pulling my hair out many a day and night so I guess that’s why I’ve gotten rid of the dreadlocks and now I’m bouncing and behaving trying to deal with hair maintenance, what a drag but they tell me I look good. You be the judge when you see me on TV next Saturday night.

As if it’s not bad enough that I’m testing out my third hair salon in order to get my wig right. I’m even holding up under the emotional turmoil of my father having been in the hospital for over two weeks getting prodded and poked in order to receive dialysis among other things at 78 years old and you know how much I’m a Daddy’s girl.

However, last night as I carried my teary eyes in the house from Nazereth Hospital, my daughter Kelisha calls and says, “Mom, I’m on my way to Children’s Hospital. Jazz (my 13 yr old granddaughter) fell off her bike and knocked out her four front teeth!” I can’t begin to tell you the profanity I used in between the prayers I sent up.

Anyway a few hours later and 4 teeth short, I discovered my granddaughter is a tough cookie. She didn’t shed one tear during the ordeal even when she made the decision not to have the teeth replaced, with only a 5% chance of survival.

I got home at 2:30 am only to have my brother Gregory call me at 7:30 am with the news that my father refuses to sign the papers to have the dialysis graph moved from the left arm to the right arm. Well he talked him through it and so we’re waiting to see if it works again.

I somehow managed to drive into work this morning with hip hop blasting in my ears to keep me awake especially since coffee had no impact. And here I sit nodding at my desk wondering how I’m going to make it through today - I guess I’ll have to take a page out of Jazz’s book and toughen up. 

Nope, it’s not a new black female superhero - there are already too many of them out there already (not!) nor is it Star or Oprah. It’s just what happens when E! True Hollywood Story comes knocking. They are coming to visit me again - not for my True Story (at least not yet) but its because of the little-book-that-could: Threesome. It seems that now I am an authority on all things Sex and Sports, and they’re including me in a show about Sex and Love in Professional Sports. Besides talking about the usual (…these women will do anything…) I may even give up some of my own little dirty tidbits. So you’ll want to stay tuned for that. But also to check out my beautiful Lilly Pultizer halter top and my new hair-do which will be tossed up that morning. The air date will be sometime this Fall - I’ll keep you posted!

Despite the fact that some of you think that I have a limo that mysteriously appears at my Northeast Philly doorstep and transports me to whichever destination I choose, I actually take the train to work, preferably the Regional Rail but today I chose the El train. And no, I don’t mean Lionel Simmons.

Often my El rides have been privy to witnessing crimes of fashion, or displays of ignorance. Today during rush hour on my trip home, it was my witnessing a serial cell phone caller that had me in a knot. Besides the lack of air conditioning I would’ve made it through unscathed except for being forced to listen to a young girl casually make call after call to her girlfriends repeating a tragic story about a brother who was killed that day, who’d just had a baby four days ago and who’d just grown his first bit of facial hair. On and on she went and with each repeat I began to get more sick to my stomach. Amidst these calls, this sista was trying to find out how many times he’d been shot and where it had taken place, all the while telling everyone that his mother was going to be so upset.

Later that evening while I watched the movie Syriana (which, if not for George Clooney would have sucked) I felt the need to call my son Kelvin (something I often do after hearing another young man being gunned down) and he began to tell me about a friend of his who’d  been killed, which turned out to be the same young man which I felt like I already knew so much about from over-listening on the El.

My lesson - return to the taking the R7 and avoid having my day concluded by ignorant girls repeating sad stories, about life being cut short.

Because it’s supposed to be the new thing - I’m not sure what I’m going to write about yet but this morning I’m testing it out.