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"  I&amp;#039;m really tired. I&amp;#039;ve had a really busy day. See, I&amp;#039;m experimenting with a new pose. The whole hand-on-hip thing is getting a bit old (something I&amp;#039;ll never be -- yay!). Anyway, it&amp;#039;s kind of exhausting standing in my Jimmy Choos in front of a mirror, studying myself. I pride myself on not having to exercise ... yet. I &amp;quot;play&amp;quot; tennis only because I look smokin&amp;#039; in those short skirts and my tennis pro is soooo cute. My hubby thinks it&amp;#039;s good exercise, but I like the tennis bracelets more than the tennis. And anyway, weight gain isn&amp;#039;t an issue for me because I don&amp;#039;t really eat. Of course, there is my salad-for-lunch/dressing-on-the-side/bread-refusal strategy, but sometimes I fall off the wagon and eat a bread stick. So sue me.  A lot of prep and expense go into being me. It can also be painful. The first time I had Botox, I had a headache for three days and I couldn&amp;#039;t make it to the Cavalli trunk show. Heartbreak -- especially since my forehead was so smooth, you couldn&amp;#039;t even tell I was sad. And that was on the heels of getting my lips plumped. That can take a whole afternoon. Then I have to wait while the swelling goes down. I always try to schedule doing my lips on a Monday when I know I don&amp;#039;t have to go out that night and be seen. That&amp;#039;s when Honey and I stay in to watch Monday Night Football. He likes it when I serve him a beer in my Agent Provocateur nightie. He also knows that Monday nights are no-kissing nights, since my lips are recovering from the injections. That&amp;#039;s when I get to be creative. ;-)  I guess my favorite pastime is shopping. The thing I always ask myself when I go shopping is &amp;quot;Do I look hot in this?&amp;quot; and then &amp;quot;How much is it?&amp;quot;  Let me explain. I am a rare and precious creature. That is what my baby tells me. So it doesn&amp;#039;t serve me to look just okay. I have to look hot. He isn&amp;#039;t with me because I can cook! The way my boo puts it is that he has an investment in me. The Botox, collagen, facials, waxings, mani/pedis, hair color, blowouts, spray tans -- that&amp;#039;s the &amp;quot;art&amp;quot; I put on my &amp;quot;canvas.&amp;quot; And when it comes to clothes, why would you cover up the Mona Lisa with a Beefy-T? So my baby wants to drape me with the best that money can buy. I can&amp;#039;t help it if my pooky wants perfection. After all, I am a representation of him in the world.  All my girlfriends are super hot too. My grandma always said to me, &amp;quot;Are your friends cute? Because if they&amp;#039;re cute, then you&amp;#039;re cute, and that&amp;#039;s really cute, to all be cute.&amp;quot; She was so right! My pretty girlfriends inspire me to keep refining my look. They help me when I&amp;#039;m down by taking me out in big, dark sunglasses to someplace like Nobu and pretending that I&amp;#039;m super famous so when I come out and rush into my car, the paparazzi take pictures. It&amp;#039;s such a rush. We all laugh and scream in my Bentley convertible on the way home. Then I go online to see what I look like. I love Googling myself. I have a whole room full of pictures of me and my honey on the red carpet that are all blown up.  I have to go get ready for the opera now. Ugh, it&amp;#039;s so boring to go to the opera. All those old people and then having to read what they&amp;#039;re singing up there on that ticker-tape thing. I would rather be at home watching Dr. 90210. But if it makes my sugar doll happy, you can sure as hell bet I&amp;#039;ll look kick-ass. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.harpersbazaar.com/fashion/trends/a447/diary-of-a-trophy-wife/>