January 7, 2026 #holypearls

I was sitting on the lanai, coffee in hand, steam rising like it had a little mission of its own in the chilly Southwest Florida morning. I opened the proof of Your Mean Aunt Sally: Pearls of Wisdom for Navigating Gaslights and Grandiosity for the first time and just… smiled.

Poke!

Holy hell! I yelped.

Nicely done, Aunt Sally said, leaning over, pearls jingling, vermouth in hand.

I laughed, still startled.

And see, you’re still here after all of that.

I blinked. After all of what?

Darling, she said, lipstick gleaming. All the absurd, exhausting, infuriating nonsense with narcissists. You’re upright. You’re writing. You’re still intact enough to make people laugh.

Well… I’m trying, I said.

Keep going for yourself, she said, leaning closer. And for everyone else who needs to see they don’t have to survive silently. Don’t be afraid to put this out there. Pearls are meant to roll into the world, not sit in your hand collecting dust.

I giggled. You really mean that?

Of course I do. Now, look at the bar. She gestured with a flick of her wrist. Coins scattered in front of her along with her vermouth. I like that you noticed the coins. I don’t do cards. Coins are tangible. Direct. Knows what it wants. Cards are too… fussy.

Coins, got it, I said, still smiling.

And darling… she added, lowering her voice, next book? Men and women, dating, chaos… maybe even a chapter on why “it’s complicated” should be a crime. But we’ll call it… brandishing the words like they’re flashing on a billboard “Coins, Chaos, and Catching Feelings.”

I laughed so hard I almost snorted coffee through my nose.

Oh, and one more thing, she added, eyes twinkling even brighter, if anyone asks, I was absolutely sober when I wrote it.
Well… mostly.

On God? I heard a giggle to my left. Coins got the drip. How about calling it “Red Flag, Green Flag”? It was Catalina chiming in!

I don’t do flags! Sally’s voice was sharp and hilarious all at once, making the coins jingle in protest.

I’LL WRITE THE NEXT ONE! Joe floated in on my right.

Sally raised an arm at him like a Bewitched cameo, fingers twitching, coins tossing, and wind now blowing.

Joe cringed so hard and POOF, he was gone.

(Not a drop of vermouth was spilled.)

Sally turned to me, shoulder raised, mischief sparkling in her eyes. I’ll be back..
She vanished too.

Something tiny clinked onto the lanai tile.
I bent down to pick it up.

A shred of mirrored glass - looked just like it came straight off a disco ball.

​And for a heartbeat, I thought I heard the faintest thump…thump…thump - like Studio 54 itself was winking at me.