I said yes to doing stand-up comedy in NYC Sunday night.

Here I go again terrorizing myself. Why?Why?Why? I won't sleep till it's over. I know my friends think I'm funny, but a packed room of strangers? Once again, I obviously need to prove it's never too late to risk anything — even my reputation.

My producer Mark Goldman made me do this 3 years ago when I was a stand-up virgin. I was freaking out until I got up to the mike and heard the first laugh from the crowd. Then they couldn't get me off the stage.

Some say if I hadn't gone on for 3 weeks I might have won the darn thing. I was disqualified for going past the five-minute window, They flash a red light to get off. I never saw it, just heard the laughs from the crowd and kept rolling.

They had to call the comedy police to get me off.

On Sunday, I will try again, representing FirstWivesWorld.com in the 3rd Annual New York's Funniest Reporter Show and I am one of nine brave souls in a stand-up comedy competition that raises money for Operation Uplink, a unique program that keeps military personnel and hospitalized veterans in touch with their families and loved ones by providing them with free phone cards.

Who am I not to risk my reputation for people who are risking their lives for me?

If you are in NYC, it's at the Gotham Comedy Club starting at 8:30pm.

The event PR is being run by the fabulous Ryan McCormick. The cost is $15.00 and a two-drink minimum. Personally, I may need a couple more before I get up there. Call 212 -367-9000 to see if there are any reservations left. My Ithaca College roommates who spit out their coffee when they heard, may already have bought them all.

Wish Me Luck!

“Friendhsip First” was how Paul McCartney billed his recent concert in Tel Aviv. It’s obvious he took the same approach with his new gal Nancy Shevell.

It took Paul 43 years to perform in Israel and just about as long to perform with Nancy.

Like many divorced people, Paul and Nancy are what I call comfort daters...those that head back in time and re-date old boyfriends or girlfriends who are now also single. Often you track them down. They knew you when you were young and really cute and still see you that way and you them. The delusion is intoxicating, and at least you know where the heck they came from.

In this instance Nancy was an old friend of Paul’s and his first wife Linda who died of cancer in 1998. You can imagine the connection.

Isn’t it great to be attracted to someone who you have some history with. Saves a load of conversation.

Besides, if you’re going to hop in an old car and head across the country like the two of them just did, it’s gotta be with someone you're really comfortable with. Especially when it comes to deciding on the rest stops.

Hey, come to think of it, it actually might be more worth it for you to go back in time and find a ‘comfort station dater’

Well, you know how I feel about the word Cougar — don’t like it. Wrote about it many times on FWW.

But the word and the lifestage it defines are so pervasive now that Saturday Night Live is doing ongoing Cougar skits. They did one again this past Saturday with Cameron Diaz.

We cannot deny that older women are now back on the market in large numbers as a direct result of divorce, and that younger men are a viable romantic option like never before.

I think it’s a good thing that women are busting up the old double standard — and yes, I admit it provides lots of comedy — BUT, Saturday Night Live inspired me to address the stereotype directly to the show. So here goes.

My Dear SNL writers,

The Cougar Den & Cameron Diaz are hysterical.

You have inspired me to do kegels as I write this.

In fact, I am even thinking of turning my spare room into a cougar den thanks to you all.

I just wanted to point out that while you're dreaming up new cougar episodes, you might want to consider that cougars (even though I hate that word) come in all shapes, sizes, and colors. They don't all look like Cameron Diaz.

You might want to broaden your cougar casting options.

The bimbo thing is something you might want to look into, too.

Cougars, because they are older — as you so clearly “coif” them — lean more toward being professional and experienced. Most are not floozies (even though some neighbors might disagree). We're talkin’ educated, been-there-done-that women exploring new options.

What the hell, the dating pool is much shallower later in life and filled with many older men who are leaking testosterone in search of arm candy to validate their masculinity.

So I went to a local bistro-like joint on Thursday night, to have a small birthday dinner for a girlfriend with a couple gals and and it turns into a Jerry Springer episode.

Like chromosomes I will change the all the girls names to Xs and all the boys names to Ys to protect the innocent, the guilty, and the confused.

We're sitting and I am tired from the day but happy to be with the girls.

I look over and there's a table full of men from an annual golf outing — 15 maybe and I think I see a face from grammar school.

Imagine? It's him. Same face at 51 as at 5. Imagine?

We get up, have huge hugs and laughs and go back to our tables.

After dinner we move to the bar area.

It's crowded. A gal pal from the past walks up to give me a hug. We'll call her X.

X and her hubby use to socialize with my ex and I when we were married.

She is still married, but out with X1, another gal who is at the table and I go over and sit to say hi.

X1 was married to my ex hubby's best friend who was also my great friend and they are now divorced.

X3 is also at the table is still married and is another wife whom I used to be a couple with along the way.

I introduce the birthday gal to X1 thinking they are meeting for the first time.

They girly scream then hug.

Seems when birthday gal was single she used to double date with X1 and her beau Y.

X1's beau Y  just happened to be my second ex's best friend. Wow, I'm getting dizzy myself.

I then spot Y2. Y2 looked familiar but I didn't realize he is the now almost ex-husband of another good friend, X4, who I've been going out on the town with for years with another pack of gal pals.

Truthfully, I almost called Jerry Springer myself but my heels hurt so much I had to go home.

Anybody else have a local Jerry episode?

Who? Who? You are wondering. Good headline eh?

First the backstory. On Sunday my late brother Stephen's beautiful wife remarried.

His 11 year old daughter was a flower girl and his two boys ages 11 and 10 walked their mom down the aisle and gave her away.

Waiting at the altar was her lovely new husband. His 16 year old daughter and his 14 year old son from a previous marriage were also in the ceremony.

Suffice to say it was a bittersweet day for my family.

Tears of sadness flowed as freely as the notes from the saxophone playing in church, as we watched his family move on without him.

Tears of joy flowed too, for this wonderful new opportunity and for this blended family that found each other to move forward with.

The party was classy and full of love and my sister-in-law and her new hubby left for a two-day mini honeymoon in NYC.

I volunteered to sleep over and handle things on day two.

The kids live in my old house. My brother had bought it from my mom.

It's decorated different but its the same house.

I took the kids out to dinner, struggled through homework and finally needed to lay down.

It didn't matter where, but the kids wanted me to sleep in my sister-in-law's room.

I cannot tell you how it felt laying there. It had been years.

It was my parents room at one time and visions of my late father laying on the bed watching football came rushing back. Gone.

Then I imagined my brother lying where he used to in this very same room. Gone.

Now his kids jump in bed with me and want  to talk about their dad because I am one of the closest things left to him and they need to talk about him.

We do.

We also talk about this new wonderful man who loves my sister-in-law and them, and his kids who are now officially their step-brother and sister.

There's "cougar annoyed" and then there's "cougar pissed off."

Luis, the sweet manager of the building where I live, slipped a cougar lawsuit news flash under my door last night along with a note. He apparently caught my cougar opinion on Page Six of the New York Post about my not loving that term, and my search for a better word to describe a "woman who chooses to play/date/carouse/befriend a younger man."

Luis wrote, "Looks like some Southern California ladies followed your lead" and attached a story from TMZ called "The Great Cougar Hunt Lawsuit."

Back in 2007, three respectable women got dressed up and went out to a club called Chapter 8 in Agoura Hills in Southern California to have some fun, seemingly without the intention of meeting any men at all. Okay, if they say so.

They were filmed without their consent and ended up being featured in an offensive national TV segment on the G4 television network called "The Great Cougar Hunt."

The TV segment describes cougars as the easiest and most ravenous prey for younger men.

Here we go with again with that "preying" concept. I thought it was the other way around, and have previously written that the word "cougar" just makes it sound like older women are pouncing on innocent young men, when truthfully we are "treating them" to the experience of wisdom and an occasional expensive dinner.

Obviously my "coolness" factor is on the upswing, as I was invited to the gala premiere movie screening of The Lifetime original movie Coco Chanel — hosted by Lifetime Television, Vidal Sassoon and The Hollywood Reporter Monday night.

I loved it! And highly recommend you tune in if you find your "cute divorced self" sitting on the couch this coming Saturday night.

Shirley MacLaine, who plays Coco in the later years of her life, was in person at the event, and was just fabulous. Barbara Bobulova, who played Coco as a younger woman was incredible.

Why is this all relevant to you?

Well, Coco Chanel's story is an incredible inspiration to any woman who has had to "make it on her own." She never married, and had regrets about that. She loved deeply, but suffered many instances of great loss. Her work became her drug of choice to cope.

Many of us know that drill.

According to Shirley MacLaine, Coco was a name borrowed from a dog in a bar. Coco's real name was Gabrielle, and her real last name was Chaznel. Coco's character had a couple of lines in the movie that really resonated; I typed the words I wanted to remember to tell you on the keypad of my silent iPhone, in the dark, during the movie without reading glasses.

When I checked back today to clarify the quote, it read "channel cinnabons."

Will somebody please help me?

Even though some find the word cougar acceptable, I can't stand it!

We need to come up with a better word to describe a woman who chooses to play/date/carouse/befriend a younger man!

Don't misunderstand me — it's not that I am not a fan of this new sport. Seriously, if some young handsome guy thinks I'm hot and fabulous who am I to deter him?

Besides, divorced women in search of relationships often find that there are just more younger men swimming in the available love pool and in better swim trunks.

And quite frankly, the older guys who are chasing after centerfolds leave us no choice.

The word "cougar" just makes it sound like older women are pouncing on innocent young men, when truthfully we are "treating them" to the experience of wisdom and an occasional expensive dinner. Neither side in this romantic pairing initially embarks innocently and without agenda. Both find it curious.

Often it really does work.

Twice recently I was called a cougar — after being spotted amusing myself with a specimen a decade behind me. In both instances, to the surprise of the two people who thought they were giving me a compliment, I reacted with my usual, "I hate that word."

Personally I think the word is obnoxious, derogatory, and sounds almost sleezy. It makes me feel almost as uncomfortable as when I hear the word used for female private parts.

Could the same "naming" idiot be responsible?

Help me here. I'm all ears for a new word.

The new word is.....?????

OK — it's the dreaded last week of summer...and we all hang on to it like a dog to the pant leg of a postman. This might be a good thing since everyone I know has gained weight since it began.

What's up with that?

Bloated single moms everywhere are racing around getting their kids ready for school. Booting up for back to school is "tums"-ultuous when you're a single mom. It's a frenzy of exhausting checklists, kids need everything, and you are a human money pit.

Going away, if you can swing it or a few more rule-free days, is a good thing...staying home and puttering around is also a good thing.

There's nobody to do business with...or make an impression upon.

Nobody cares...well almost nobody.

If people owe you money, you cant get a hold of them.

If you owe people money, they're away and you buy a few days.

The mythical end of summer will confuse you next week because you pull back the curtain and it will still look and feel exactly like summer, only you are not supposed to be having fun anymore.

So — whatever is going on with you this week, make sure you try to maximize any and every last window of opportunity of guilt-free summer pleasure for yourself.

You know you deserve it, and goodness knows next week is going to feel a lot different...even if it looks the same.

Certain men's colognes drive women wild. I remember the first one that intoxicated me — English Leather.

I used to put it on my pillowcase and dream about Tom, Dick Harry — whoever. They all wore it. That and Brut, and all the fathers in the world wore Old Spice.

Then as time went on I had longer term relationships and longer relationships with a specific cologne. In fact, cologne became a relationship in itself. Now every time I smell a brand that a certain man wore, it causes a rush of memories of HIM.

It's confusing for me when a new man wears an ex's smell.

Some familiar colognes make me want to slap a guy I don't even know.

Because of this I recently I had a terrible break up with Paco Rabanne.

So the question is... Can you date a guy who smells like your ex?