The forgotten bloom

I get so caught up in the obsessive planning of my life and tasks related to my job that I often overlook the important things. Much like a single rose that lay blooming alongside the path, nearly trodden by a clumsy footing that is so involved in calculating and strategizing the tasks and trials to accomplish and overcome that the innocent rose is nearly obliterated, a wasted bloom, an overlooked glorious scent, with no regard for texture of petals or luminating luster to an otherwise grey and colorless landscape. The single flower that if one stopped to notice, admire, a mere second of effort in a self absorbed and singular pursuit would lend credence, inspiration and truth to what really matters in this fleeting existence.
The rose can be a lover, friend or family member that needs the smallest recognition or validation of importance, strength and truth, and the smallest effort would lend such light and sustenance to a blossom nearly wilting from thirst or buried with thorns.
Stop to smell these flowers, lend your light to wayward blooms that may seem to trip your footing for a perceived careless need that is truly a cry for attention. Don’t let the thorns of life so consume your thoughts that you overlook the love and need that lie wilting at your feet.
Today I was reminded of that which is truly important, my lover, my family, my friends, and I am ashamed for my selfish lack of recognition and humbled by the strength wrought from the simplest effort of release of what thought I needed to accomplish vs. what I really needed to do.Humanity, family, friends, loyalty and support are what you will remember at the end of your days, and how you showed your love and support to nurture the flowers in the proverbial garden of your life.

Hello to your new fairy tale

I recently moved in with my fiancee and his children after having lived alone for ten years, with solo establishment and absolute domain over my space, my time, control over every circumstance in my life down to the number of tissues used while blowing my nose. Relinquishing this control has been both an extremely gratifying and extremely difficult adjustment. Especially for a freakishly controlling and orderly person such as myself who has to re-hang a blouse if the collar is facing left rather than right . I find it hilariously ironic that finding your heart's desire and implementing a lifetime of wishes come true also requires compromise and a yielding of will that has governed your thoughts and decisions throughout your single life. No one, including myself, ever thought beyond the white knight, the stalwart steed and riding off into the proverbial sunset, that even fairly tales are grounded in reality and affect change with the implementaton. Part 2 of that happy ending is thinking of sunblock to protect against said sunset, a new pair of horseshoes for the steed as the poor horse is now carrying 2, a new drawbridge for the moat as the wood is rotting, algae treatment for the moat, and consideration for prince's hunting spaniels, queen mother and obnoxious falcon collection. Cinderella has lived alone in her own condo for so many years that she has forgotten how to funtion in a family unit, with the noise, laughter, fighting, frustration, tears, joy, i.e. all the wonderful components of a true family. Cinderella is about to become the stepmother and is a little terrified of the implications of this uncharted territory. However as we know, Cinderella is a trooper, vanquished an evil stepmother and won the love of a handsome prince in the space of a week. I think she will previal in this latest endeavor.
The other side of this sometimes terrifying coin is the introduction to solitude on behalf of individuals newly single, divorced, those who have spent years within the confines of relationship and/or family unit now relishing or dreading the prospect of living alone. No pitter patter of footsteps and exultant cry of a child joyously greeting the day, no task driven list of "to do" items provided by one manically organized spouse to another. Quiet mornings sleeping in, the only noise to greet you with the dawn's light the sound of coffee sputtering and the morning D.J. ringing in the week. And having spoken to individuals who went from one transition to another I find it quite amusing that the things I took for granted are the things these folks relish the most. From walking around the kitchen in your knickers (my British friend) for the first time as no one is around to claim that you shoudl be "dressed" around the children, to having the ability to run to Taco Bell at 2am on impulse as you have a sudden chalupa craving and no controlling husband to consider. These folks are enjoying the unknown freedoms life changes bring while adjusting to the challenges that are also presented.
I shall find joy in possibly guiding and influencing small children having none of my own, thankful for the opportunity to experience even the smallest element of parenting. And I shall wistfully bid farewell to my overabudance of alone tme, as too much solitude is unhealthy for anyone. Cinderella still has her own side of the moat for occasional "me time", with a blessed view of prince charming and his daughters playing on the castle ramparts, reminding her of her exciting new life and the challenges and joy it shall bring.

The grading system

If dating had a grading system, I would unfortunately average out to a straight C- for my cumulative experiences and subsequent behaviors and reactions to duress.
Early twenties-F-hormonal and lonely=settling for anything with a pair of new Z cavaricci’s and a pulse
Early thirties-C-less hormonal but still lonely=settling for less than I deserve, someone with an education and an income but less than stellar manners or consideration
Mid thirties-C-still hormonal but cognizant of respect and reciprocity-the balance and consideration required for a healthy relationship. Standards rose exponentially.
Latter thirties-B+-Embrace the need for reciprocity and respect and what I deserve. Grow tired of making things happen with disappointing results, give up desperate need to be in relationship, go on with my life and ultimately meet the man of my dreams
I never quite understood the benefits of what I considered cliché and outdated phrases, “thinking before I acted”, “quelling impulsive behavior”, “patience is a virtue” and “men love the chase”.
Naturally I acted before thinking, gave into all impulses, did not take a breath, reassess and let things happen as they should and finally, never quite let men chase me, which resulted in me chasing them out of the proverbial door and thus relationship.
Older, wiser, less reckless, more patience and discrimination as well as not having to make things happen and be the leader in relationships have resulted in me finding my heart’s desire and wonderful love.
I had a wonderful example throughout this turbulent, ecstatic, painful learning process. A dear friend with whom I have stayed close for nigh upon 18 years. Always cool, always confident, she has an aura of elusivity and discrimination that men find irresistible. She dated like a true professional, had swains lined up out the door and truly perfected the art of the chase by being her happy, smiling confident self, thus conquering hearts all over San Diego. .
If only I had followed suit and thus prevented my own debacles, but as they say “live and learn”. Some of us require a hard knocking with the reality hammer to learn the important lessons.
The irony of this is that while her “MO” has always been to take it slow, and date distinctively, juggling two or three men and enjoying the attention in pursuit of her perfect match, (much to our envy and chagrin, would she EVER choose) she has finally found her perfect match, who promptly informed her that while he really saw potential in her, he wanted to “take things slowly”. She acquiesced with a knowing smile, and responded in kind that she agreed with his distinction.
Not karmic debt but rather an even meeting of minds, unequivocal balance and opportunity for a slow and steady courtship.
And even if she assumed my former role of impatience and anxiety, she would never let anyone know-always maintaining a calm and cool aura. Brat that she is.
And I admire her immensely for this.

Love is...

I have found that my idea of love has dramatically changed and can only be expressed through these words-
Love is waking to a lazy smile and slightest caress of hand against hand as a heavy weight leaves the bed and sure, sweet breath whispers hello to start your day,
It shall never leave you truly alone, nor is it ever far away
Love is awakening to a blazing sun and a warm mug of coffee, with the right amount of creamer, steaming next to the bedside as someone is thinking of you, always thinking of you
Love is an opening of heart to expose raw vulnerability, the allowance of personality and perspective to shine through
Enabling you to crack your silly jokes, dance your silly dance, think your random, sometimes deep, sometimes silly, sometimes dark, foreboding thoughts, with acceptance
Love is understanding that people are multidimensional with layers exposed and like the onion can taste both bitter and sweet
Love is the alliance without necessary agreement, for in togetherness, in this union lay strength and not defeat
Love understands that one day you may smile, and one day you may rage, the moods may vacillate and shift but the loyalty and devotion remain constant despite the change
Love is making an effort to love friends and embrace family even if feigned show of interest, gritting of teeth and hindrance of opinion when the company is not to your choosing
Love is raw passion, staid emotion, with components of occasional boredom and solidarity
Love does not come from a checking account balance, investment portfolio-the superficial forces that use to drive me
Love is the completion of once bereft, of standing alongside when one was once left,
Alone
Love is the sweet, greeting welcome mat as you arrive home

To save or not to save??

I have a problem with cheap men. I have not had the misfortune to date a lot of them; however the cumulative dating experiences my friends and I have shared regarding tightwads only serve to solidify my antipathy for this phenomenon. Especially men who advertise their more than six figure incomes on match making web sites who call to “move up” your 6 o’clock dinner date to 4:30pm in anticipation of the two for one tapas special. Or men who pick you up in an eight series, gleaming silver BMW only to present the waiter with a twenty percent off coupon at the conclusion of the meal, without an ounce of shame as no attempts at discretion were made when bartering price with the waiter. Meanwhile your only recourse is to slowly sink deeper into your seat and pray that the earth will envelop you. Only the bus boy would notice your absence and he does not speak English, thus no reporting to the authorities.
If a man asks you out to dinner, regardless of the outcome of the date, he should possess some semblance of courtesy and pick up the bill, to prevent that ensuing “shifty eye syndrome” that occurs when the waitress places said bill in “Switzerland” aka the neutral zone or center of the table. The battle of wills ensues, shifting of eyes and beading of sweat above the pencil lip as he looks from the bill to you, bill to you hoping you will buckle and present the AMEX. Men presume the neutral zone presents the right to indecision, that if the waitress had placed the bill a fraction of an inch to the right of the dividing line in his direction, that would have eliminated any bent for cheapness and he would have miraculously paid the balance without batting an eye. Excuse my proverbial snorting. Once a cheapskate always a cheapskate, no matter how smooth the banter or glossy the exterior.
I once dated an air force pilot who owned two houses, a ford expedition, a refitted Porsche, with an impressive stock portfolio. He touted his strong belief in equal rights between the sexes but used it as a cloak behind which he hid his terribly cheap nature. It was insidious, trips to the restroom when the bill came to prevent his contribution, ordering one diet coke with two straws at a club under the guise of romantic sharing of drinks. Thought love is blind; I eventually caught on to his true nature and jumped ship. If a man does not have enough class to pick up the majority of the expenses when first courting a woman, he is not worth your time. Down the road in an established relationship it is appropriate and expected for a woman to make her fair contribution. Limited self respect in the initial stages of dating serve as a red flag as to the status of his intent or his opinion of your self worth, and is hardly worth saving a few dimes in the effort. When my ex questioned my departure from the relationship, my retort of “I just got really thirsty” fell upon deaf ears. So much for the Ivy League education.

Take them at their word..

Of the many things I love about men, the one trait I consider most effective and admirable is their pragmatism and directness when dealing with uncomfortable issues; i.e. the ability to cut through the minutia of detail that unnecessarily layers a problem to get to the core issue. Men present facts without emotion, with enough analyzation of the simple data to assess, conclude and resolve the problem. Most women, including myself, when presented with an issue, get so overwhelmed with emotion and detail that they literally drown in the ancillary "white noise" of the drama, which ultimately obscures the core issue and thus prevents a practical assessment and conclusion.
Last night while out with my girlfriends at an upscale night club we sometimes frequent, I ran into my wonderfully practical and "NO BS" friend Matt, sometimes rough, always blunt, the epitome of the adage "say what you mean, and mean what you say" with no subterfuge in the sub context of his words. Listen closely ladies, for this is the point of this blog, cleverly disguised in the middle of my narrative rather than comprising the opening sentence. Listen to what men say, for they seldom beat around the bush, saying one thing but "meaning another" as we so foolishly delude ourselves when presented with rejection or an answer contrary to our desire. They don't like to prolong drama as we do. There are to many college football games to watch.
Back to Matt. After the requisite cordiality, I asked Matt how he was doing. His cryptic and emphatic reply "better than I was last night" opened the Pandora's box of my curiousity.
It seems that Matt was out alone the evening prior, enjoying a beer at a local watering hole. He was certainly not adverse to a night of no strings reciprocity with a willing female should the opportunity present itself as a relationship was the last thing on his mind.
The gods of physical gratificaton were smiling upon him, for soon thereafter drunk girl and her best friend, "buzzed girl" started chatting Matt up at the bar, engaging in the kind of banter that loudly infered their willingness to participate in some "no strings attached fun", whomever Matt decided to choose. Their good friend Jack Daniels turned on "drunk girl" making her feel ill and thus exit the bar. therefore Matt decided that "buzzed girl" would suffice. Now don't think badly of Matt; he is an honest about his intentions, whether it be to take a good woman out to dinner or a willing woman back to bed. and if the answer is no to either, then that is that, without any manipulation or dishonesty to gratify himself. After making out in the bar, the parking lot and before jumping in the cab, "buzzed girl" went from making sultry promises about that evening to feigning a headache and deciding she wanted to be alone. Matt chalked it up to alcohol and fickle females and headed home himself. Once home and dressed in sweats and a t shirt, his cell phone rang; the caller ID indicated "buzzed girl" had a change of heart and had become "willing girl". Thus at 2 am Matt was headed 20 minutes north up the freeway. True to his nature, before embarking on this adventure, Matt informed the girl he was not going to spend sixty dollars on a cab ride unless he was going to score. And who could blame him? He was laying his cards out on the table, with no BS. And what girl invites a stranger over to her house at 2am to play parcheesi. The female reiterated her desire to have fun, and thus Matt headed out into the evening, assured of the end result.
The evening did not turn out exatly as planned. Matt spent the next two hours dealing with a vasilating, unbalanced female who could not appreciate the importance of his uncomplicated and direct nature . "Willing" girl opened the door in sexy night clothes only to tell Matt she could not promise him "anything." Twenty minutes later she lay like a playboy model on the bed, (you get the visual picture), telling him she just wanted to "talk". Suffice to say at 4am Matt had enough and informed her of his depature. Strangely enough, she was angry, wondering why men disrepsected her and led her on, ultimately leaving her as he was now doing. Matt took one look at this cuckoo bird and being so wonderfully Matt, let her have it, reminding her that he made it perfectly clear his intention to hook up, and she should have taken him at his word and not wasted his time with her indecision. And ladies, the morale of this story is, when a man is good enough to lay out his cards at the beginning and tell you his true intent, take him at his word and spare yourself the mutual wasting of time and energy reading into his simple statement. Don't delude yourself that his directness was a ploy to disguise a deeper truth. Trust me it was not.

The Christmas Gift Tragedy

If you want a power tool for Christmas, and the pearl earrings waiting for your ears to don them at Bergdorf's are of no consequence, please disregard this blog. However, if you, in the spirit of love, want to "help" your significant other purchase your ideal Christmas gift. If you unselfishly want to prevent his nervous exertion and sleepless nights pondering your pant size, favorite appliance or the advantages of paper vs. plastic in pursuit of gift choices (painfully lost) then read on and prevent another unnecessary tragedy of misguided and inappropriate Christmas gifts. Men do not possess the emotional intuition and detail that drives our decision process; they are practical creatures who make decisions based on logic. This will apply with the ultimately logical decision they will make with regard to your Christmas gift. And women don't want logical for Christmas.
Without your intervention, Christmas morning you once again feign anticipation and excitement over your Christmas gift, and form the ever reliable "fake" smile that pre-empts the poker face you will assume for the rest of the morning as you unwrap the gift (be it a toaster as your husband/boyfriend observed that the previous one burnt your bagels) or a set of tools (as he noticed you hammering a nail into the wall with your stiletto heel) or God forbid, the size 18 pair of "Bongo" jeans that he purchased at the advice of his mother who saw a unique and perfect opportunity at revenge for stealing her precius son. He unfortunately does not realize that size 18 is indicative of a backside nearly 40 inches in diameter nor does he remember that Bongo's hey day corresponded to mullet hair cuts and neon socks. And hello, you don't spend 40 minutes a day on the stair master to fit into your size small seven jeans for nothing. As you provide the requisite "oh you shouldn't have" token response to his precious but incorrect attempt at pleasing you, you resentfully reflect upon the hours he will spend perfecting his verion of Eddie Van Halen's guitar solo with the "guitar hero" Nintendo game set you purchased for him, as you know he does not need guitar lessons but that the 12 year old boy in him still fantasizes about his alternative career as a rock star, groupies and all. Meanwhile you strap on a tool belt, grit your teeth and unsuccessfully convince yourself that would much rather dry wall the front of the house than enjoy a mani, pedi and foot massage at your favorite nail salon.
It is our responsibility to acknowledge and correct this deficit, not walk around in unspoken anger and thus scream at our partner in suppressed frustration when getting your Starbuck's latte order incorrect as you are inwardly seething over his gift purchase.
I highly recommend direct and specific hints regarding Christmas. Especially if you don't have a lovely and knowing man with the foresight to ask you to provide several options as gifts.
1. Whip out your oldest coach handbag, bemoan it's sorry state and reflect upon the imminent and dire need for a replacement, adding the convenience of the Coach outlet store at the nearest outlet mall.
2. Place your feet upon his lap and ask for his opinion on nail shape, color, while innocently reminding him of where you get your nails done, providing salon name, address, zip code and nearest cross street.
3. Walk out in your favorite pair of jeans, while swathed in your favorite scent, sit upon his lap and simply state "I never feel better than when hanging out with my best friends Chanel and 7 denim".
If these attempts fall upon deaf ears and your man's crystal ball is broken, as a last resort you can "fool" your man into hearing your Christmas list. At any sporting event half time, with the assuredness of his "high spirits" place a sticky note on his lap, with a specific list of options. Preface this by apologizing for the latent "wish list" while pretending he had requested this of you weeks ago. He will never deny that he did not request this, merely bow his head in thanks over your forgetfulness and white knuckle the sticky note as the proverbial "Holy Grail". And you will dance around Christmas morning in your new Manolo Blahnick strappy sandals while he signs fake autographs in his boxer shorts.