So I get this call from my landlord today, complaining that it’s the 5th of the month and he hasn’t seen my rent check yet. His implication that I was not going to pay was insulting at worst, foolish at best.

I mean, look at me. I’m so good for it. You don’t drive an X5, carry this much Gucci or eat at Caffe Roma on the regular without being good for it.

Speaking of the Roma, they’re complaining now that I haven’t settled my tab. Well of course not! People in my class don’t pay at the end of our meal. We pay when we’re good and ready. I’m not ruining my freshly done manicure by doing something so pedestrian as reaching into my purse. Ugh.

Anyhoo, must dash, it’s another phone call from the dealership. Don’t these people know how I roll?
Ever since I've signed up for this "study," strange things have been happening, and I'm starting to worry for my safety.

I received a phone call from my second ex-fianceé asking me to return the engagement ring he gave me. He said he was getting married and really wanted tho give the ring to his future bride. Excuse me, but I just don't see how this is my problem. I understand that it's a 19th century heirloom from his great-grandmother who survived the sinking of the Titanic, but you can't ask for something back if you've already given it away. I've blocked his number and filed a restraining order.

A day later, a homeless man tried to approach me to beg for some change. I responded as I usually do in this situation...pull out my taser and give them five seconds to back away, when a kind gentleman stepped in and deflected his attempt. I turned around to thank him and was shocked to discover it was my first ex-fianceé. Such a handsome man...never wears less than Armani. We chatted for a bit until this skinny little twig covered in diamonds walked up and kissed him. He introduced his wife to me, but at that point I stopped listening and moved on.

The strangest of all things happened earlier today. I was at the jeweler's getting the studs on Prince cleaned when lo and behold, in walks the man who gave in to me. That's right...fianceé number three. And he wasn't alone. Yep...the bimbo attached to his arm was scanning the engagement rings like a dog eyeing a bucket of treats. Wishing to avoid yet another awkward situation, I quickly grabbed Prince from the jeweler and made for the door, only to stumble on the entrance mat and rip my skirt. Everyone turned to view my blunder. I covered my face and ran.

These "random occurrences" are beinning to worry me. I feel like Scrooge being haunted by the three ghosts; just replace the ghosts with fianceés. Perhaps I do need help with finding a relationship, that or I just need to start dating people in an even higher tax bracket.
Morton was so dull and lifeless, you would think he was purchased at Jared. And this after I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed him. My hand hasn’t been so tired since I dated my last multimillionaire octagenarian. That guy could not hold on to a cup of coffee to save his life. I hope I never have to clean up that much spilled café au lait on grout again!

Westfield actually hurt me today! I don’t know how his prong got so out of place, but it stabbed me right on my room service ordering finger.

And Prince, well, he simply did not hold up his end of our bargain. We went out for lunch at Roma today and the waitress had a bigger rock than I did. He’s pouting in time out right now. I suppose I’ll let him out in time for my next round of dates. I nee those guys to know what they’re competing against.
The economy is sinking to lows we haven't seen in our lifetimes. This worries me for several reasons:

1. More people are losing money and falling into the middle and lower class. This means there are even less people worth my time than before.

2. Stores I totally adore (Saks, Kitson, Armani Exchange, etc) are suffering because everyone's afraid to spend any money. If you're going to go down, at least look good doing it.

3. I read an article today that people that make six-figure incomes are shopping in dollar stores now. I'm pretty sure I read that in the Bible as the first sign of the apocalypse.
2010K is a nice starting salary.

I'd like to give a great big 24 karat welcome to 2010. This is going to be my year, I can feel it. No more new money guys in Hancock Park who think that their first Maserati means anything. I don't have the time to waste this year on "men" who have only just learned how to handle a balance sheet. Sure, the economy, blah blah blah. But I need a man who is sound and stable enough to weather a relaxing on the beach in Fiji. 

Also, I'm going to learn preparation to receive my house staff.