Lucky Girl

I write a lot about the silliness I deal with from would-be clients via the phone and email, to amuse both myself and you.

But what I don't write about as often is how really, really fabulous my regular clients are. I'm always aware of what wonderful guys I have, but I'm thinking of it more than usual right now, because I have been on the receiving end of some incredibly sweet and thoughtful gifts lately. Between my birthday last month, and now Christmas presents, several of my favorite boys have turned up with gifts that they obviously took a lot of time and trouble over, from the careful choices to the pretty wrapping (that they did themselves!). It's immensely touching to me that they did that for me. I've gotten great books, a plushy, velvety-soft black bathrobe, David Yurman jewelry, a vintage camera and some lenses, a bunch of high-end electrical toys, and a beautiful bustier, not to mention more than the usual amount of flowers, candy and wine. One of my best boys has actually offered to send Max and I on a trip to New York. (And I know he means it!) How amazing is that?

And even the less-traditional things touch me – one sweet boy turned up with a bunch of gorgeous tomatoes in the wake of my post about them. I like it when people pay attention to what I say and use that knowledge to do something I'd like.

And you know, it's not the things themselves that are so important, although they're quite nice. I'm just so touched that my clients would go out of their way to do this for me. They don't have to. You don't need to buy me presents to be a favorite of mine. That only requires that you treat me with respect, behave towards me with integrity, and communicate honestly. (It also helps if we have big fun playing together.) That's what I want from my boys. And having guys who give me that, and bring me lovely presents…Well, it just really knocks me out sometimes.

I always say I don't believe in luck. We make our luck – it's called hard work. But when I look at what sweet boys I have, I have to admit – I think there's some plain old good luck involved here…