In case you were wondering, I did NOT indeed get the upgrade I asked for last week from God.  In my letter to the big guy (again, gal?  See letter here.) I said this would be a fabulous sign of his/her existence and receipt of my requests.  Well harrumph on all that.  God scoffed in my general direction.  I (that would be Executive Platinum flying more than 100K miles a year on American Airlines ME) sat in steerage in what was without question the most narrow, least legroom seat on the plane.  God is laughing at me and my requests.  And we still have no insight on the apartment, and Britney is still in deep doo doo. 

But let me not be negative.  I will assume that my little letter ended up by accident stuck in a spam folder, and I press on.

Did you know that in Italy the police force its women officers to wear high heels?  It’s true.  I work in the finance industry and wear flats regularly.  Ain’t NOBODY telling me I have to wear heels!  Though I recall an incident in 1994…my first job out of college at a Wall Street investment bank.  I wore a pants suit one day.  I got a talking to.  A full on, sit down, this is not what we wear, talking to.  Not 1974 – 1994.  We’ve come a long way, baby…from not even so long ago.

So how do I know about this Italy thing?  Glad you asked.  Because I occasionally read this blog.   I am pretty liberal, and there are things they post on here that even I don’t always agree with, but for the most part, I find this to be darn enlightening.  There is still work to be done on women/men issues.  And don’t even get me started on race or sexual preference issues.  You may not agree with all of it, but give it a read every once in a while.  Pretty interesting stuff.   

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