hafacenturyncounting

Motivated by a lack of material.

07 May 2013

Fancy Girl

Sitting in the weekly rental apartment, I wondered if I had made the correct choice. However, the thought was quickly dismissed. I had given Chuck every opportunity to make our marriage work I refused to look back with regret. After all looking back had kept me with him as long as I had stayed in the first place. The decision that I needed to make now was whether or not to leave the state.

It had been six weeks since the divorce was final and I could not say I was feeling bad. Chuck either glared at me during the proceedings or looked at his hands. He didn’t have anything to give me but his dreams. I wanted no part of them anymore. I was tired of giving everything of myself, doing things his way, and never having anything for me. I felt like I lived in a soap opera or a bad romantic comedy. How could I know that in the course on 9 months I would be as happy as I could ever imagine, my financial state would be secured for a very long time, and I would lose the romantic love of my life forever.

When Chuck and I met, I was completely single. There was no man of significance in my life. Chuck was handsome and a smooth talker. He looked like and gave the impression he had it all and he could give it to me. I would later find out all he was consisted of “pipe dreams” and lies. What should have been a friends with benefits relationship took a wrong turn and ended up in the land of matrimony, eventually to both of our dismay. We had the twins the very next year. Then Chuck really started to perform.

He stayed out until all hours of the morning, spent ridiculous amounts of money, and did a fair amount of cocaine. I stopped caring about him very rapidly. The kids were toddlers when we started going for counseling. Chuck kicked the cocaine habit, but he was never faithful. He used to sing a song “Don’t Fence Me In” when he came in late and I would protest. I was finished, I was ready to walk out the door, but I put my children’s needs ahead of mine.They adored their father. I kept putting off the inevitable; first when they were in school, then when they were finished with high school. Upon their college graduation, I finally figured it was my turn. 30 years and 4 months from the day I married him, I walked out of our house never to return. It was frightening, but it was long overdue.

I picked up my cell phone and called my cousin, Phil. We had grown up together and he was divorced now as well, or should I say again. Phil was a pretty successful  sports writer and did a bit of traveling.  He knew what was going on with me and Chuck; I  finally decided I would take him up on his offer and relocate to Florida. I would stay with him temporarily until I figured out what I would do permanently.

Since cooking was my love, and baking was my passion, a career in the food industry was a natural choice. I had taken a couple of cake decorating classes before Chuck and I split up. Well why not put it to use, until I figure out what to do as I waited on my retirement. I got a job at the local big chain supermarket, Publix. It was ideal I could walk to work from Phil’s apartment. The beach was walking distance from the store where I would spend many hours, after work and lunch breaks as well. Life was amazingly simple for me now. I didn’t have to see Chuck nor worry about running into him. I missed the kids, but they had lives of their own. Their visits would be cherished and fun.

I was decorating a small chocolate ganache cake early, when I looked up there was this tall( about 6’3″) handsome man of clearly Italian decent smiling. His skin was olive, his teeth were white and straight, he had a full head of salt and pepper hair. He said, “Beautiful, I must have.., oh and I would like the cake too.”  I flashed a quick fake smile, but I was flattered.  I asked, ” Would you like this one? He nodded  in affirmation and said, “Yes. Please.” “Can I get you anything else, sir?” as I began packaging his cake. He leaned forward and said, “I am sorry if I was forward. I didn’t see a ring and there aren’t many of us, you know, our age who are clearly single. I love your hair. You don’t color it. You’re bold.” I replied, ” So are you.” He rubbed his hair,” Well I have a little more salt than you do, but seriously it , your hair is gorgeous.” I handed him the cake. He smiled and in a lower tone he said,         ” And so are you.” He smiled, winked, and walked away. I didn’t see Rick,the store manager when he came behind the counter and I was slightly startled, when he began talking to me. Kent was quite impressed with you.  I said, ” Who?” “The gentlemen who just bought the cake. He is a regular customer, he told me you were a wonderful, talented, and charming individual.” I laughed, ” Really, hum Rick if I wasn’t old as black pepper I’d swear he was flirting and you were aiding and abetting….” Rick slipped me a business card and walked away.

KENT IMPERATO Professional  Golf Course Design. What it did not say was he was on the PGA tour and had quite an impressive record. However, if you followed golf you would know that. I was too wrapped up in me to follow anything right then. I knew he looked familiar or was it just that he was so tall and so handsome. Probably a little of the first plus a lot of the second and third.  It was a flirt and it felt good.

Phil was on his way out when I was on my way in. He told me he would be back by the weekend. He was always rushing about. I sat my bag down and laid the card on the counter with my keys. Phil glanced at it and looked at me with a question mark on his face.. “Kent Imperato.. the pro?” I replied, ” I dunno, I guess”. Phil said, “Really.. I know he is in the area, but.. when.. where did you see him.” Oh he came in the store and bought a ganache… Phil interrupted,” and he gave you his card… what is this cuz?” I squinted at him, “Phillip don’t you have a plane to catch?” Yeah I do but you won’t get off that easy”, he said as he walked out the door.

Two days later  I got another visit from Kent at the store. He came up to the counter and smiled, “That was one fabulous cake.” Oh well I am so glad you enjoyed it”, I replied. “What can I get for you today?” “Did you get my business card”, he said quietly. I said,” Yes I did, but I am not a golf enthusiast, I am sure you are quite good but..” He interrupted again, “But you don’t have a phone, you couldn’t call, you don’t like golfers?” “You aren’t a bit shy are you, I said. “Have lunch with me, please?” I was filling the display case. “Listen, I am flattered, but..  He said, “No really listen, I won’t take no for an answer so just say yes and I will be back to pick you up at… I relented, “1:15″My lunch was actually at 1:30, but the time mislead was to see if he was serious and punctual. The large clock in the front of the store read 1:14 and I watched my lunch date walked over to the display case. ” Ready”, he asked. I raise my index finger indicating one minute and I disappeared to the back of the bakery. When I emerged, Rick and Kent were talking. Rick said, “Man if you keep hangin around this bakery you’re gonna get fat.” He smiled at me and walked away.  Kent smiled and said, ” So where would you like to go?” I replied,” Well, seeing as I am all dressed up I figure we should go someplace really nice.” He smiled again.  “I have just the place in mind”, he said.

I did not know what to expect on any level. I hadn’t been on a date in more than three decades. He was driving a Buick Rendezvous, it was black. I did not give his vehicle another thought, except it drove nice and smooth. We were headed up the coast, the waters from the ocean were aqua blue and rather calm. We parked and Kent walked around to my door to open it for me. I got out and looked around. There were people on the beach, a lifeguard tower, but no place to eat was visible. This was fine with me, because I was in my work attire and my time was limited, a walk on the beach would be nice. I saw a blue and white cabana .

“I can image what you look like when you aren’t working,” he said. What do you like to do, what kind of music do you listen to, do you dance?” My reply was, “Which question do you want answered?” Wait I have one for you, no two. Where are we going and what are you doing here with me?” We reached the cabana there was a young man there we had a picnic table and there was food. Kent said, For an afternoon at the beach I like junk food, but I told Lyle to bring some fresh fruits and cheese, healthy stuff  just in case. Tami this is Lyle. Lyle nodded and smiled. “Hello Lyle”, I said.  “Afternoon on the beach.. Kent I have a job that I have to be back at in about 30 minutes”. He pulled out his cell phone and pushed a button and looked at me. I looked at him as he began speaking .” Yes may I speak to Rick Henson, store manager… Rick hey man this is Kent, yeah remember the favor I asked you about ? Well if you would kindly relay that information to this lovely lady with me I would greatly appreciate it.” I took the phone with a suspicious look on my face. ” Hello, who is this speaking?” I asked. “So tell me the store number and how about my hire date. Well you can’t blame me for being cautious. I see.  Again, you can’t blame me for being cautious. Regular schedule tomorrow? Ha, yeah right. I’m sure. Do you need to speak with him. Very well, see you tomorrow. Bye.” I pushed the end screen and handed the phone back to Kent. “Alright, we have more than 30 minutes for lunch, let’s take it one step at a time.” Kent simply smiled.

Kent was actually my age just shy of my birthday, by one day. He had made quite a roar in the world of golf and he had clearly always liked blondes. I did do some research. I knew the last thing I was looking for was some cocky pro golfer, spending his free time polishing up his trophies, all of his “trophies”.  He had obviously done well financially, investments a few endorsements here and there as well as a very successful ad campaign for a fledgling sportswear company, his own. I was out with a relatively wealthy man. I was out of my league and I knew it, but I was enjoying the spoils for the moment. Hey, a nice lunch, the afternoon off, no harm/no foul.

We walked on the beach, to exercise lunch away. Since my attire was white pants and a coral polo shirt I was over dressed but not too noticeably, without my name tag and bare feet, you could assume I picked the outfit. Kent was wearing his company’s signature polo shirt, sandals, and khaki shorts. Before I knew it the afternoon gave way to the evening. As we drove back to my apartment, dozens of questions ran through my mind. It made me very quiet as David Sanborn played “Try A Little Tenderness” in the background.

I had enjoyed the afternoon and the company of this man, but there are no manual to instruct a 50+ year old woman how to act or what to expect on a first date. I was way out of practice. The sun was setting on the horizon, I asked myself “Are you going to let it set on you?” Kent took hold of my hand and we exchanged looks. We pulled up in front of Phil’s building and Kent parked. He walked around and opened my door. He took my hand and helped me out. Here it is the moment, “do I want to kiss him, I think I do, but only if he wants to kiss me, no that’s not right…” He kissed my right cheek and said, “I had a really nice time we MUST do this again”. Without giving myself time to think I kissed him on the lips, smiled and said, “We must”.

Getting older the games of romantic involvement must have subsided. Kent called on his way home to again tell me what a good afternoon it had been. He warned me that he planned on taking up a considerable amount of my time. I  told him we should do like they do in A.A., take it one day at a time. Our next date was for dinner. I told him I wanted to go somewhere that I could put on a dress. I wanted to feel elegant. I had plenty of gowns, just never a occasion to wear them. We went to a country club on one of the golf courses he had designed. Elegant I wanted, elegant I got.

Kent was now making his way to the senior tour, but at present remained on the regular ranks of the PGA. We  first appeared in public at Pebble Beach for a charity event in support of S.M.A. “Fans” for golfers are a little different than other sports groupies, the main difference being they are quieter. Everyone on the inside knew what was going on and they all knew what Kent liked in a woman, in turn the women knew as well. I was not it. The guys were nice in an obliging way, the women were as women are, “catty”. I was not in the “club” and I didn’t want to be. As the resident alien, I would bring my friend(s) with me to watch Kent play. It had all the scandal of a high school nobody hooks the most popular school jock. The magazines would take pictures of me generally with a bottle of water and my BYOF(bring your own friend). I rarely ate at the clubs. Kent and I  would have a really big breakfast before he played, we would work out 30 minutes later for and hour and a half, afterwards he and I were good for the day. It became our ritual.

KENTAMI’S(pronounce ken tah meez) opened amid quiet ceremony. As the cliche’ of the times; a specialty cupcake bakery whose name was the merging/fusion of the couple-owners first names.  It could have been worse, my parents could have opted to spell Tami the traditional way with a double “m” and a “y” . It flowed. I joked with Kent, ” They must have known about you long before I did.”  The day was busy, a number of the wives of the tour pro’s stopped in and made purchases. Lots of pictures, Kent signed some golf balls and gloves. Later that night when it was quiet and dark in our quaint little bakery, we sat in the window on two of the tall bar stools, drinking sparkling apple cider. I was tired, but it was a good tired.

Kent placed a little package in front of me that was wrapped to look like a mini-cupcake box from the store. I didn’t want to open it, things were really good between us. I was “shell shocked” from  “The Chuck Years”. This was a man, had I met earlier in life, I would have had children with, but now that was a “pipe dream”. “Aren’t you going to open it”, he asked in an almost whisper. I looked into his beautiful dark eyes, I examined his face, his deeply tanned skin, the thick salt and pepper hair. “Kent aren’t we happy, I mean things are good. You are a vibrant man, you should have babies I can’t do that for you. Let’s just enjoy what we have… He interrupted me and said, ” What do you think is in there, a ring?  He laughed, ” Oh baby no, I don’t want to get married…” He took the box from in front of me. Now I was a bit embarrassed, a bit annoyed as I watched him fumble with the box, then I looked away trying to compose myself. I have to admit I was a little pissed, but looking at life stages, I realized the days of dreaming about youthful romance were long behind me. I caught a glimpse of him in my peripheral vision and the window reflected his image behind me. He swung my seat around and dropped to one knee, ” I don’t want to get married to anyone but you. So just say yes cause I won’t take no for an answer”. I was breathless from his words. He kissed my hand and put the ring on my finger. He continued,” And this, this is not a ring but a reminder that we have a commitment to one another that is for life.” The ring was what I considered too much 5 carats;  3 1/2 carat baguette cut stones on each side of the anchor stone which was  a 2 carat princess. “What do you say”, he asked smiling, he already knew.

When his plane crashed I knew I would never be the same. Kent was so vibrant so full of life being in a wheelchair for the rest of his life would not work for him.He was angry and bitter. Most of the time he did not want to see me so I would go and sit in the waiting room for hours. I went home with him for appearances sake from the hospital. I left the house at 3 a.m. I would never see him alive again. I wear a pendant that is made from the platinum and diamond engagement ring, he had made for me.  It has his name engraved in it, and his soul is engraved in my heart.

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07 May 2013
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A Boat Load Of Regrets

I short “No Regrets” was the comment I got from one of my readers. I loved the entire comment though. It is nice when people read you and have something  to say. This reader is a friend and on more than one occasion has inspired a piece or two. As a special note there are a number of my friends and family who get me to thinking, thus a blog appears. However, don’t look for yourself in my writing I value you far too much to put YOU specifically out here on the information highway without consulting or even warning you first. Remember the catch word here is INSPIRE.  Also “Boat” was not the word I wanted to use in the title  either.

Keeping the tempo of this “up” and holding the attention of my readers is very important. I do not want to become predictable, for I know you will loose interest rapidly. Yet in being real, I am NOT “Polly Sunshine”. I try not to be a fatalist and if I had to characterize myself I would say I’m a realist. I had a rough week and it took its toll on my weekend, my precious-longed for weekend. The collection of disasters had me looking back, trying to make sense of it all, I found myself lost in the sea of disdain with you-know-what, and I was sinking fast.

We are not alone is these human feelings and emotions. We are all simply trying to explain ourselves to a better place. Words you would have said, turns you should have taken roads you should have traveled. Lest we forget how much time we would like to retrieve. Boat Load of Regrets, No Regrets the only thing that actually has a marked change is your perspective.

In closing I got quite a surprising laugh as the events of the week and weekend were recounted. In a relaxed moment with yet another disaster averted, it was quipped as follows; “Yeah I thought things couldn’t get any worse and then the roof fell in”. Well that actually happened; we lived to tell about it, fixed it, and yes somehow managed to get a chuckle out of it all.

Posted in How We Relate and tagged ,
07 May 2013

All Because You Didn’t Marry The Prince

Perhaps some of you weren’t “his” princess either. Who is this mysterious “man”, well he is different for each of us, but simply he is YOUR particular man. I don’t think men are looking for those types of women(princesses). They do search for an ideal mate and when I say ideal, she cooks, cleans, has babies, retains her figure, is smart yet non combative, and did I mention her libido is in direct sync with his. This is a personal assessment and observation of several  men I know/have known.  We on the other hand ask for little, as demonstrated by our requirements which are much less; we only ask he be handsome, rich, and adore the ground we walk on.

Funny thing about a brain, it sometimes  makes you an independent thinker on a number of levels.  Many years ago you fell madly in love, if memory serves  correctly, it was wonderful. You have to laugh as you recall the time, because it is not real clear now. It is amazing that something that was so very important in your life, has take such a backseat now. Anyway you fell in love and then as time went on, you fell in love again. It happens the problem arose when you discovered, this is not a fairy tale. That was a hard pill to swallow; because he certainly looked like the prince, in short periods of time he acted like the prince, but ultimately he couldn’t pass the test. Sometimes we look directly at something and know we shouldn’t cross that path, but we do it anyway.

So now you are in the dungeon or is it the tower, well you cannot escape in either case. What now? You wait for the prince to come along and rescue from the dragon I mean the prince.. wait a minute. Is it the prince rescuing you from the prince or the dragon. Is the prince the dragon or is the prince rescuing you from himself? If you aren’t confused you should be. You are sitting there waiting for an answer, when you have it you hold the key. Unlock that door and walk right out of that place, go where you feel you are wanted and where you need to be.

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07 May 2013

Hellacious Pursuit

To start the week off we need to be motivated. This charges a writer to say some things to jump-start individuals. However, this can present a problem because writer’s have to start the week too, and Mondays are Mondays for writers as well.

Wanting to be read you do not want to be typecast. You want to be taken seriously, but in your head there is a target audience. They are the target, because you put that target there. It is set in your mind this type of person will read me, I am speaking to their soul, their very being, or simply I write about what they like/like to do. People need to read happy, in order to feel and be happy. How much happy do I have to “divi out” without seeming insincere or becoming typecast is my challenge?

The hellacious pursuit begins as the search to find something interesting to say about an interesting situation, all while periodically taking my own personal feelings out of the equation.I have to be speaking to you, my readers. Realize I must interject self in these writings because this is where you get my “voice”, which is a representative of my mind, and without that these pieces are merely conjecture. This title was a bit of a play-on-words  to imply the darkness or demons associated with HELL.

There are demons that are chasing me when it comes to writing. I call them that because my writing bugs tend to bite me when my time is limited and I am forced to make the decision; to go do what keeps me fed and housed, in opposed to what I love to do and frees my mind. The pursuit is ongoing to find balance and to reach that place where symmetry will reign supreme. Better works to follow once I arrive there.

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07 May 2013

Speak To Me

If you cannot listen to and learn from your companion, then why do you have them. Frustration is like an active volcano. It is ready to erupt at any time. Sputtering and spurting from time to time serves only as a forewarning. This “baby” is gonna blow.

There is no way to convey how very important communication between you and your loved one is. There actually is no need; for if you are in a good relationship you are practicing this and if you are in a not so good one you realize that you are not communicating and this is a major problem.

Writers generally like to communicate and feel very comfortable doing this on most levels or at least one for certain. When you are emotionally involved with another person there are a number of ways that communication takes place, but these ways which are expressed in forms other than talking sometimes take translation. No matter how well you know another person, it does not hurt to say “Talk to me, tell me what it is you are feeling”. Then they are given the chance to express themselves on no uncertain terms.

Women talk to much, men talk to little, neither listens to the other because each has preconceived notions about the other’s comprehension and we have trouble understanding why communicating is difficult?

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06 May 2013
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Who’s The Fairest Is Not

I was listening to Jermaine Jackson when I started this. I  thought about a title and several came to mind. It is later on my Monday morning than I would hope for it to be, when this writing bug bit me. This is the second post I started on and was working to complete another two, suffice to say this was not a plan.

YouTube has some really creative people who post music and videos  Yet it was from one of these folks, who I am not particularly pointing out as talented or not, that I have to thank for this. I wanted to hear “You’re Supposed To Keep Your Love For Me”, nothing underlying except for the piano intro of the song along with the emulated birds tweeting in the background. I don’t know what the person who did the YouTube video was going after, but there were pictures of Jermaine from before the plastic surgery CATASTROPHIES as well as after. I shook my head in disbelief and the thought occurred to me, ” I remember when he USED to be handsome”. Instead of letting the song play in the background as I wrote about something else, the subject of the video became catalyst for the subject of my piece.

I watched the pictures turn from one shot to the next. I saw a typical African American teen boy with OUR features; he morphed into an individual with more and more European influenced features, and finally  to some person who had suffered some type of accident that surgeons were attempting to restore on some level. I took it personal.

Yes his nose was broad, but he had a gorgeous smile and teeth. Yes his hair was bushy, but it was healthy and well cared for. There was nothing unattractive about this guy. I thought about the entire Jackson brood and shook my head. I had to ground myself. I did not want to entertain the thought of “how could they think…” You see when I turned 18 I visited a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills for a consultation on a rhinoplasty for myself. I talk about this without a second thought now. Yet, as I looked at Jermaine I think of how close I came to doing the same thing( just not that magnitude). I know the ONLY thing that kept me from that surgeon’s knife was the fact he told me during the consultation, ” After the surgery you will have some swelling”. I stopped dead in my tracks, I did not hear another word. I grabbed and held onto the thought , “MY NOSE WILL BE BIGGER!!” I did not process the swelling will go down. I left that office never to return and never to think of that surgery except to point out I almost did it and why I chose not to.

Who’s the fairest, we ask that question and never think twice. This line in a fairy tale is ingrained in our heads; and while the men of our group don’t necessarily relish those tales like the women do, they are guided and influence by these same stories. Couple that with the  fact that big screen has given these fairy tales life, and well we are doomed to feeling bad about what we look like. Fairest do you mean color? Snow White is clearly white and I mean an anemic white. That is just not healthy on ANY level and I LOVE Disney movies.

Did you ever go to a Jackson Five concert? Do you remember seeing the guys on “Soul Train“. I did, and ELECTRIC only scratches the surface of them and their presence. What do you suppose your reaction would have been had the family appeared on stage looking the way they have been altered to look now. Micheal’s face taut and so very pale. Jermaine with check implants that look like they have decided they want to be above his eyes and are slowly working their way up. Everyone’s noses abbreviated and pinched. Finishing off with the bone straight Euro-Asian type hair.  This would look more like a Marilyn Manson coming out party.

Who’s The Fairest Is Not may have easily been an “Eye of the Beholder” offshoot.  To sum this all up I have my own personal looks issues; I almost got my nose “fixed”, I straighten my hair probably will not stop, but this piece is NOT all about me. The thing about me is I still see recognize the beauty of people no matter race, color, ethnicity; because beauty is everywhere, including but not limited to the eye of the beholder.  So now go and BEHOLD!

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05 May 2013
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Taking It Slow

If you have ever done something you are not quite proud of, if you have ever wronged someone, if you have ever asked for forgiveness, struggle with me though this for a minute or two. What if YOU believe you have actually NOT done anything wrong and were justified in your actions, but time has soften you to the point where there is a willingness to talk, a willingness be approached.

This is not going to be very long, I think because uncomfortable things have tendency to make you squirm and give off the feeling of”I need to break and run”. No exceptions taken here. Whatever category you fit in, I think the most important thing you can do is have no expectations. The only thing you have control over in these situations is YOU. Therefore,  if you are honest with yourself, you are going to have to understand where you are, may not be where the other person is at this particular point in time.

If you are one of those “sensitive types” like myself, YOU are only willing to be vulnerable for really short periods. Speaking from experience I know that being sensitive, as far as oneself is concerned, does not always translate as sensitivity towards other, and that is especially true in the situations we are touching on. Also, being sensitive affords you the ability to know how to be cruel and vicious. While we all are capable of this, “sensitive” people cut to the bone and then they turn the knife blade. All the more reason understanding “you factor” is paramount here.

Now lets go over this in order for YOU to get it.YOU don’t get the control. YOU don’t get to direct, all YOU get to do is to participate and YOU only get to take part, when it is determined by someone else along with YOU, it is alright to do so. Sometimes YOU do have to leave well-enough, alone.

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05 May 2013

HAIKU and Grapefruits

This may seem random and perhaps that is because it is.

During my quiet time, I visit with words. I came across “HAIKU” in an email from a writer friend. I am not admittedly the most avid reader, although I love light research. In short I would have to be characterized as a writer who does not read a great deal. Poetry is an aspect of writing that I enjoy reading far more than I do writing it. I missed “HAIKU”. Well upon research I found out the history, saw examples, and was so enamored with it I bothered downloading a book on the subject. I may actually try my hand at “HAIKU” in the near future. Feels fun.

The grapefruit came for a more primitive place, I was eating one. For years I have enjoyed grapefruits especially the ruby red variety. I was familiar with it as a source of vitamin C and association with weight loss programs, this particular morning I was eating with intent to reap benefits from both of these known attributes. I had a Dr. Seuss moment”, “Why do they  it a grapefruit?” I mean it doesn’t look like a grape, it doesn’t taste like a grape the only shared quality I knew of was the squirt factor and for that matter all of the citrus fruits had that ability. Maybe it was color, like the orange, but then what about the lemon or the lime? I figured I would run across some long forgotten fact from a science class in my past.

After we covered the kingdom, species, order, genus and family, after I read who discovered it and where. Even after I knew which country produces the largest amount of grapefruits, I did discover why they are called grapefruits.  I now know it reacts and affects the metabolism of 85 different drugs. For on top of not being an avid reader I am clearly and unconventional one. In my search I fully expected to see “the reason they are called grapefruits is…” in boldface-red italics. What I got was”they grow in clusters like grapes”. This allowed me to practically overlook the very piece of information I was in fact seeking. Perhaps grapefruit will the subject of my first “HAIKU”.

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03 May 2013
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Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

Tell me lies… can you hear Stevie Nicks’ voice? I remember that Fleetwood Mac Album and I say remember like I don’t have it, although I do. I haven’t played it in years and why should. I basically I can go to youtube, pull the song I want to hear up, and move on. If it strikes a chord in my soul I will go and play it on the stereo.

Music transports us to the places we have been and the places we want to be. Time is meaningless and virtually stands still. Our fabulous musicians say what we want to say and give our words such a beautiful melodic translation; in spite of the fact the words we are hearing belong to them, at the time. It doesn’t take away from the fact that we are feeling those same words.

Alright, how about a little bit on “pillow talk” and how the sweet little lies get tangled up in these conversations. I spoke to an “authority” and he shared his wonderful insight. He says he is being kind. Naturally, I want further explanation. There you are somewhere between dawn and daylight something makes you aware of the other soul close enough to touch and perhaps you are actually touching.  Your eyes meet, you cannot look away or roll over, you may want to but that just wouldn’t be right. A smile may be enough but that mouth of yours takes over… How many times has “I love you” or “You are so beautiful” slipped through because of the awkward moment. Then once you’ve said it no matter how you want to escape you know you have dug yourself a deeper grave.

Sometimes the silence is deafening and therefore in these instances it may seem that there is call for the lies. Resist, smile, and rub  your companions shoulders instead.  If you do you may face the same dilemma later, and perhaps you will then be better equipped.

Posted in How We Relate and tagged , ,
03 May 2013

My May Flowers

Well I am looking forward to seeing what May has to bring/to share with us. We are having a rather mild transition into summer here in Georgia. While I am aware that it has only been 2 days as I write this; I am happy and hoping this is  an indicator that we will now have the mild, humidity free summers like California…. yeah a “pipe dream” I will enjoy it while it lasts.

May is a month of firsts and lasts(so far) for me, they are all very sweet memories. Late spring that generally feels like summer; the summertime memories from the “summertime of my life” is my summation in regards to the month of May.

I have a niece who is growing up, she is turning 12. My poor sister, her daughter is “moments” away from being a teenager. However along with the dread of seeing your child, your baby transitioning into the grown-up person they will ultimately be, you must take note of the wonder you have been allowed to experience along the way. However, she is “My May Flower bud”.

Another sign of summer is the May celebration of Cinco De Mayo. As self-respecting Southern Californian I cannot ignore this day. Although it has little to do with Southern California, other than tacos and margaritas, which I plan to partake of.  For a real history tidbit this celebration is about The Battle of Puebla, a battle had it gone the other way could have greatly affected the outcome of the Civil War.

We have to touch on Mother’s Day and while I am fairly certain I will have an entire blog about mothers, I never miss an opportunity to acknowledge moms since their “day” falls in the confines of this month. Therefore I offer the following; don’t forget the date but take time to love and honor her everyday, not just the one talked about during May.

If I suffered from triskaidekaphobia there are a couple of individuals, who have been in my life, that I would be better served on some levels had they remained an enigma. Even though I smile as I say that I would have to ask myself, “Why do I even talk to _____ ?” Instead I find myself saying, as I nod in affirmation, “No wonder I talk to ______.” They are “My May Flowers in full blooms”.

Two days into the month of May and I see a strange welcomed weather change, a family member transitioning to another phase of life, Cinco De Mayo, and a couple of very attractive memories. That doesn’t even take us to mid-month, but I will stop here. So Happy Birthday Bryanna,  Feliz Cinco De Mayo, Mother’s Day,  and an honorable mention for May 13th!  I think “My May Flowers” are going to make one heck of a bouquet.

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