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Motivated by a lack of material.

Bad Behavoir Contagion

Well it spreads like any other infection. Exposure to this means you are as likely to catch or become it, as you are to resist or overcome it. Take a closer look.

What do you know about the typical characteristics of communicable diseases. You know the environment has to be ideal for them to grow and thrive in. There must be a host to infiltrate. This same host must have a weakened system. Repeated exposure to the attacker is generally enough to accomplish a breakdown. Finally there have to be others for it to spread to.

Although bad behavior is primarily psychological affliction, I submit to you it sports the same characteristics as the physiological one. Therefore what do you do when you know you are going to be in a situation or environment that puts YOU at risk? One could avoid it, one could build oneself up with vitamins and nutrients. However, if those things fail and you end up affected, you get help.

The treatment has to include both physician and medication. The host must follow the directions of both in order to fight off and drive away the disease. Full recovery is possible, but that is not saying it will be easy.

When we place the condition in the psychological column, the physician becomes the counselor or spiritual leader; vitamins and nutrients, become good influences and reliable information; medication becomes consistent positive reinforcement.

With these things in your corner, you are prepared for battle. You stand a chance to not only fight off this bad behavior, but possibly change some of it.

Now You Want To Be

The choices are very limited now, so you take what you have and you cherish it ever-so-much, but what about the fact that you have had and slighted the very same choice for quite a long time. The wear and tear are visible now. Yet, you say it doesn’t matter. I challenge you with, why didn’t you cherish this same item/possession/companion when it was new?  You must entertain and/or live with that question and others. What if it is too late to salvage? What are you willing to do, how much time and effort will you put forth to correct this wrong. Can you be so arrogant as to think you can go along, as though nothing has happened,  and things will continue on the same lines.

None of us are perfect, but while you do NOT have to wallow in the errors you make/have made you do have to take notice. If there has been something wrong done you have to make an effort to fix it, and YOU don’t have the luxury of feeling any ill-will if your efforts are not applauded and/or rejected. Facing those type circumstances you may think, “I’d be better suited to do things my way” and you may in fact be just that. I caution you here; if you are truly in the place of moving on and moving forward, not taking active and aggressive steps in order to smooth over and fix the problem will only result in disaster.

What is the most difficult part of owning up to what one has done?  Can it be the fear of rejection; because knowing what you have done is something YOU would not let go, and thereby realizing this person you have wronged may respond in a similar manner. Is it  coming face to face with the fact you are, as human beings are, weak and flawed. The only thing you will preserve by not taking a pro-active course of action is your ego, selfish and large, it is the primary reason why you are at this place currently. Factor ego OUT of the solution.

If you are truly sorry, try to soften the blows that have been delivered in a kind manner.  The sincerity will be apparent. Hopefully, there is still some sensitivity left for you to work on or work with. The numbness of indifference, once it has set in, is much more difficult to reverse.

Space and Opportunity

William was a buyer for a regional department store chain in West Los Angeles. I worked in accounting there for about a year before I hired by UPS Express and became a small package courier.  He had always flirted when he saw me at work, but then I egged him on. Playful and harmless, he wasn’t my type. I was married to my type and was miserable for that unfortunate pairing. I certainly was not looking for anyone else to complicate my life.

I clearly made him nervous when we encountered one another. He had always been a bit of a joke between my friends and me. How ironic was it for me to end up delivering an urgent package to his residence. It was a Saturday morning there was still dew on the ground, I saw a lone couple working in their yard. It was William and his wife. We exchanged niceties and he introduced me to Marjorie. No real surprises; she was rather rotund, six children will do that to one’s figure, not someone who would stop you in your tracks.

He made it his business to contact me outside of work, by getting in touch with my local office. He was a buyer for a rather large company, he knew what to say. I was flattered, charmed and enjoyed the attention. With the absolute intention of not allowing anything to happen, I agreed to having lunch with him, in my element. Away from the world of work, my little city was paradise, it couldn’t have been better.

We met in Lunada Bay, after my tennis lesson. We had Italian food at a little restaurant that had an ocean view. Of course practically every place had an ocean view.   Simply because he was not my typical type, by virtue it felt odd he even could hold my attention.  I asked myself,” Why are you here?” He was clean cut, well spoken, and he made me feel like I was the most amazing, interesting, intelligent, and yes attractive( to a “Can’t take my eyes off of you” level) woman he had come into contact with. He had written me letters, called me just to hear my voice, I should have just tied a bow around myself and  handed “me” over to him. What had started as a “joke” was gaining momentum, reeling me in, and I wasn’t even aware of it.

I pretended to NOT notice how much he was intrigued.  I made it seem as though it was just a tour of a locale he had little or no knowledge of. He asked many questions  about the place I called home, then about me and my upbringing, he was cautious about my husband and the fact I/we had no children. We sat across from one another, our wedding bands made us seem respectable, even rather innocent or did they?

However this encounter was so very cliche’, but still  it continued.  After lunch we walked to our respective cars,  to an observant eye the cloak of innocence was uncovered and exposed.  I felt compelled to show him one of  “The Hill’s landmarks”, so he followed me. We arrived at the semi-vacant parking lot of the closed down amusement park, but in spite of it’s status it was still being maintained. People still jogged as well as walked in and around the area.

There was a steady ocean breeze, but it was nice and balmy. We watched the aphros on the waves from the parking lot. He said he wanted to get a closer look and that was understandable, it was beautiful. I had taken many early morning walks along the route nears the cliffs, so we got out of our cars.

I had barely emerged when he came straight toward me, pulled me to him, and kissed me. I had no time to think, my head was reeling. I felt my knees buckle, my breath was leaving me and I heard music. I though I had lost my mind, but I was in fact was lost in his kiss. The kiss ended only to be followed by another equally passionate. I had forgotten what kissing felt like, but the memory was returning rapidly.

We embraced one another, inhaled our respective pheromones, and tasted sweet kisses repeatedly for over an hour. I could not imagine what making love to him would be like, but I knew I wanted to find out.  Every sense was being explored, out in the open, in broad daylight. However all one would see at a distance was two people/lovers engaged in a passionate kiss, nothing graphic or dirty. It felt like a scene from a movie. He was seemingly unable to stop and I did not want him too. His touching my hand was as sensual and penetrating  He ran his hands through my hair as I nuzzled his neck. Part of me screamed “EXCUSE ME!! YOU ARE MARRIED, TO SOMEONE ELSE, AND SO IS HE!!” as  the other part of me silenced that voice and we engaged in more “foreplay”.

This had never happened to me before, talk about an out of body experience. We tried to leave one another, but we did not want to so we stood  there, leaned against the car in a lover’s embrace watching the waves. There was no talking. I felt his heart racing, his arms were strong and muscular. Enveloped within them I felt safe and warm. Like clock work, we both knew it was time to go. Time to end, or postpone what was inevitable. Sadly we prepared to leave each other’s company, but one last kiss.

He finally spoke,” What.. how do you feel Mary? How do you feel about what just happened? How do you feel about me?” I sat quietly, hands on the steering wheel gazing forward, but then turning to look at his face. I examined him. The crisp white shirt tucked in his well-fitting jeans. He had big feet and long fingers. I shook those thoughts rapidly. I had sized him up sexually and I had no right.  His face not my normal preferred face, but it seemed to be different now. His face was becoming closer to what I liked, what I found attractive and desirable. I placed my hand on his cheek, the diamonds in my wedding band sparkled in the light. “We have to go William”, I said softly and making eye contact.

He kissed the palm of my hand and slowly backed away from my car. I looked at him in my rear view mirror as he walked to his car. We were less than a mile from my condo, but I was having trouble navigating. I now knew I was playing with fire, especially since I  had not decided on leaving or staying in my present situation. I was not looking for a love affair, certainly this could complicate things for me.

I pulled into the underground parking lot of my complex and sat in the car for a few moments to gather myself. I went over the afternoon in my mind. How could I know that 4 years and over 3000 miles would come between us, before we would get close to consummating our relationship. Who would think from the unpredictable beginnings,  our “affair” would end so abruptly. Yes I was playing with fire, but so was he.

I got out of the car, locked it, and walked toward our unit. Once inside it was clear my husband was not home. I was relieved, because I was uncertain how I looked and I was real confused about how I felt. I went into the master bath and forced myself to look at my reflection. I was not proud, but after a few moments I came to terms with the facts; I did not push this man’s advances away, meaning that I was in fact really unhappy. I wanted something to happen, I had convinced myself I needed something to happen, and something did happen. What would be next? I undressed and took a shower, then I went to the gym to work off some frustration.

Later that evening my husband, Chris asked,” Are you okay, you seem quiet.” I tatahed him off with, “Oh I’m fine, a little overworked is all .” He proceeded to finish his steak. “Self-centered prick,” I thought. “Beside the fact I practically had sex in a parking lot around the corner from our home.. everything is just grand.”

How many marriages experience a similar situation? How many respectable spouses are completely unaware of what is going on under their noses. Do any of them accept, at least a small part of responsibility, in the “cheating”? If Chris had only been close to what he promised me and spoke of prior to our marriage, William wouldn’t have stood a chance. Then a philosophical point came to mind. Who is the true loser when someone cheats?

Much to my particular dismay, William and I never actually had intercourse. There was never the debatable oral sex either. There was sweetness and passion, there were points where things could have gone too far. We made time for one another; had romantic interludes in parks and indoor parking structures, following some romantic meals, we talked and listened to one another. Something always seemed to interrupt us at the very last minute. In each and every instance that we were together, there was no way our respective spouses would have been happy finding us together.

Human beings are social creatures. There is a need in us to be with someone in order to feel whole. God almighty created us to be with a companion, exclusively, according to scripture. There are so many rules though. Sometimes we flawed humans make bad selections, selections we have no idea are incorrect at the time. Are we supposed to stay in those bad situations? If we do how do we cope, and counteract the effects of those same bad situations? When guidelines are set-up that suggest and say, “simply the thought of something is as harmful or damning as the actual act”, who is really capable of being completely immune.

William by most accounts was a Christian, yet he was married and he pursued a married woman. I on the other was the “back-slider” I was not practicing any type of religion, actively. I did not chase a married man, but I did not run from him either. Was I a victim of circumstance or had I seized the moment? Ultimately, I would have to wait and see.

The Joke Was On

Many years ago one might do things without a second thought; now when you look at the world around you, do you have second thoughts.

Life is so serious that we do not have time to laugh and play, if you will. Yet I submit to you, what is a world without room for fun and games. These things that provide us all with an outlet, an actual place for laughter.

I enjoy comedy as much as anyone. I have watched it evolve to a level that the new generation of comics do not believe they can entertain you without being vulgar or mentioning body functions repeatedly, out-of-the-blue, and with little or no pertinence. However, I still do love to laugh and will continue to look for/to this outlet for my regular smiles.

In a time meant for seriousness, when one should be well aware of what one is doing. You enter into a situation haphazardly, but you have no idea what the ramifications of this cavalier approach will have until much later. You didn’t think it would go this far or last this long, but it did and now you ask yourself the question(s). Was I serious? How could I think this would be alright? Where do I go from here?

Adulthood does not give in freely to the ideas of pranks and jokes. I submit you should not take yourself too seriously, but there is a time and a place for the fun and games.

I Will See You… Forever

Since April Fool’s Day immediately follows Easter this year I felt compelled to write about something serious and endearing. The blessing Friendship. I invite you into my story and in turn take a personal visit to yours.

I have one biological sister and felt so happy when she was born, because I lived in a male dominated household. Growing up in Kansas City, I knew who Mike Garrett and Lenny Dawson were, long before I knew Diana Ross and the Supremes. I learned to like “Gunsmoke” because my choices were limited and I was generally out numbered.

I survived until my sister came some 11 years later, in a completely different geographical area, but she arrived just the same. Oddly enough by the time she and I came to know one another, I had already met two ladies that would become a part of my life and remain there. Barring some  periods of separations we managed to reconnect. During the separation another lifelong “sister-friend” came into my life and since the day we met only distance has come between us. When distance kept me from my west coast lifelines, one was literally dropped in front of me to keep me going here in the south. Confident and feeling like there was no more room or need for another “sister-friend”, and seriously not thinking about it, one came from out-of-the-blue. There are others;  diverse, special and unique in independent ways, I do not need to name names. We women know that there is a sisterhood among us that defies bloodlines. We know what it is to connect, I believe it is cosmic and it is Divine.

We have gone to school together, graduated together and we have worked together. We  have thrown parties and showers for one another. We were in each others weddings. We attended births of our respective children, we are the guardians and godmothers of these same children; and when one of us looses a loved one we are there sharing in that loss feeling the pain, but giving the kind of support that we have come to know. When you cross the milestone birthdays, the major events in your life and the same names, faces, individuals seem to always be there; you know you are blessed. Friends for life is not to be taken lightly.

Reminiscent of lionesses in the wild, we co-exist as a unit. Caring for one another and our young alike, major difference being we do not share our mates. The human, civil, genuine parts of us takes over in this respect.  We have survived a lot, we have survived it all. Today I wanted to take time out and give tribute to these wonderful ladies that fall into this category, in my life. They know who they are and they know I love them. Whether we see one another every day or a few times a year, we somehow pick-up where we left off.  When we part it is NOT “I will see you later”, it IS “I will see you forever”.

If Your Heart Isn’t In It

In the midst of a philosophical conversation, the realization came to me as to how very important it is to be passionate about what you do. I always felt this was the case with me personally, but figured it varied from one individual to another.

The teachers, nurses, doctors and even lawyers of our world stand out when I think of this point. Not saying the gas station attendant, cashier at your local WalMart, the dry cleaner, or telemarketer are any less applicable; if you do then you give freely, with both hands, the excuses for doing something poorly. Having passion for what you do is essential for one to do anything well,  and it seems an odd or unusual thought pattern in today’s world. I find it odd that we do not expect more and therefore accept substandard performance.

I was raised by parents that instilled, “If you are going to do anything you are obligated to do YOUR very best”. It didn’t matter what it was, you owed your very best, because this was a reflection on you. It did not simply say this is_____ and identify you, it went deeper and gave a look at that ever-present, character.

At first glance you may question placing one who saves lives(doctors) in the same discussion with someone who in most cases disturbs one’ life(telemarketer). However, that is at first glance, dig deeper what do you think of that same individual who possesses the skill to save a life if his attitude is bad, and his work shoddy. Then the individual whose sole purpose is to manage to keep someone on the phone long enough to make a presentation, that in spite of countless hours of research, may have guided them in a completely wrong direction. Who is held to a higher standard; why is it okay for one to do a bad job, have a bad outlook and treat people accordingly and not the other?

We have all experience the examples given when they are not passionate and caring, but we have also experienced  others in the same line of work who were polar opposite. Chances are the good experience tends to cancel out the bad one(s). Let me pull your coat-tails here; these individual occupations cited here are not just being pointed out for review, they are for reflection, they are US.

We are all threads in the fabric that makes up our society. Ultimately one has to recognize it takes all of those threads to make the fabric strong, functional, and beautiful.  You can’t change everything and everyone, but you can certainly change you and that is a start.

“It Was Harmless…”

It didn’t mean anything. However the fact that you did it, does mean there was/is something underlying. You throw something out there, effortlessly, and if by chance something comes back at you..

Gratification takes many a form. Ego is generally a catalyst, for even an individual with low self-esteem longs for positive reinforcement. A nod of approval from your boss regarding your work, a complement from an attractive colleague on your attire, or a “double-take” from a stranger are all appreciated on one level or another. Where do you draw the line?A subtle approach, a simple flirtation can easily be the beginning of much more. Depending on your motives one should not take these things lightly.

I was told a story of the way a long-term, rather destructive relationship began. It was sweet and spontaneous, my friend told me it caught her off guard while they sat in his car at a stop light. Romantic-minded me sighed at the irony, that is until the story continued into the years of lies and abuse. Now of course all simple things do not evolve to that level. Perhaps, as my friend looks back, she can see that earlier than that stop light kiss this seemingly romantic guy gave her an indicator(s), or she gave him one that made it clear the progression would/could take place.

All I am suggesting is with complex human beings, it rarely is simple and harmless.  Every approval is not a gateway to a promotion or raise, every complement on your attire is not an invitation to be intimate, every second look does not warrant a phone number exchange, but some of these same incidents will and do go to the next level. Therefore, tread lightly you never know when things will go deep on you, and what was intended to be harmless becomes much more than you bargained for.

Kimba and Lambchop

March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. Is this a meteorological reference to climate, or is the reference to another type of climate.The title references two animal characters from my childhood, some of you may remember them as well. They lived and represented two very different ways of life. One charged with being in charge, responsible and independent, the other sweet, cute, witty and co-dependent.

I have been blogging like crazy this month and now as the end of the month approaches, it feels like I am running low. I don’t feel particularly exhausted, but things have been challenging. To be honest, I have been battling the lion most of the month. I am amazed I had presence of thought to write anything. As the month ends, I anxiously welcome the departure of March. Hold on though, because this also earmarks the end of the first quarter of the year. The year I hoped would be exemplary.. has been far from that. The thought of it/things slowing down no way, coming up to speed in order to catch up on these three months of lackluster is more of what I have in mind. No room for the sedate lamb here, or is there? After almost an entire quarter of turmoil, a dose of peaceful would be welcome.

The picture of peace, the one where the lion and lamb are resting together in paradise, comes to my mind. This is a very beautiful yet sobering thought. With the holiest of days rapidly approaching, slowing down to enjoy the calmer side of life is very appealing and very necessary.

“Pipe Dreams”

The sound of crumbling up paper, the image of “Curly Bill” from Tombstone saying, ” I feel greaaat, greaaat”,  followed by him firing off several rounds into the night sky. What does this mean?  Well these are the end results of “pipe dreams”  and I want to touch the subject of them.

Do you know what a “Pipe Dream” is. I am sure at some point in time you have had one, or accused another individual of having one. I imagine most of us deal with the “Pipe Dream” in a metaphoric sense, but this is what prompted me to investigate it further.

Having heard reference made to them since childhood I only equated them with actual dreams; later in life I came to know them as outlandish, far-fetched, or even impossible/improbably fantasies. I did like the sound of the term and since I love words this combination made an indelible mark.

In slight anger and frustration one evening, I decided to look up the origin of this “Pipe Dream”.  I was amused and fulfilled to find the two references that begin this piece were very logically associated with the term, and therefore they were appropriate to use. Short version they are drug induced( particularly associated with opium) fantasies, images, dreams. “Curly Bill’s” display in Tombstone came after he emerged from an Opium Den in the film. The crumpling paper was the sound of lottery tickets being discarded, while not drug induced a strong yearning to make something happen where the likely-hood is ( in my opinion) remote.

Now entertain the possibilities of being lost in either of those two listed scenarios, then imagine being lost in a “Pipe Dream” of your own.

Mama’s Little Man

Years after a film called “BabyBoy” was released the thought crossed my mind about the men in many of our lives. The movie explored the phenomenon from the product/consumer aspect. I want to cover the manufacturer for a bit.

With the disclaimer always close to the beginning of pieces like this, I have to say all of us should not reproduce. That is not being mean or insensitive, but getting older one has to view things in retrospect and see the disservice we do to our children, when we do not take our roles seriously or consciously. We hurt and damage them innocently, but we do these things to them just the same.

My sons KNOW that they are the loves of my life. I am proud and in awe of them and their respective accomplishments. They also know, from me, that during my reproductive years I yearned for a daughter. We have discussed this openly and I believe that they have not been harmed with that knowledge, because of the way I  conveyed this information.  Yet there are things that we do not share with our children; yes somethings should not be put out there, but when you hide important facts from those who are ultimately affected, the inevitable fallout is much worse.

God blessed me with two handsome boys; I rearranged my mind and actually had a business plan to help my need to have someone to dress up fulfilled. They donned Christian Dior and Guess layette. Nike crib shoes adored their tiny feet and Calvin Klein covered their diapers. Numerous results could be connected with MY OBSESSIONS, fortunately my children survived me.

My wise friends and I have covered our children on various levels at times we have noted we have raised the type of men we had hoped to marry “Once-Upon-A-Time”Please do not look at this from a sick reverse Oedipus stand-point). At other times we see that some things we observe them doing, are things we would NOT tolerate ourselves from a man. Each of these scenarios are a testament to the  viewed successes or failures as their mothers.

The connection, well we as their mothers are charged with raising sons of whom we will turn over to other women who will hopefully reap the benefits of our positive, sensitive, and knowledgeable rearing. The irony is that we will do this based in part (and oftentimes a good part of) from our own bad experiences. Follow that up with the unattainable goal of being the kind of man our “daddy/father/dad was. We may as well hand these little ones a guide to nuclear medicine at four.

Sadly this is a “turkey shoot” and we really do not think about this fact, as we take these man-children on the adventure of growing up. I must note I am not ignoring the facts that we may or may not have a spouse, mate, man in our lives during these times, for this must be factored in as well. However, my area of concentration is on us, the women.

I  made my boys into young male fashion dolls. I was on one hand given the illusion boys would be simpler to dress and maintain. I embraced this, but simultaneously under-minded it with my need to make them appearance conscious. The long-term affects have been one never has a hair out of place and his wife notes this in passing as she jokes of him constantly in the mirror. The other would just as soon walk out the door without combing his hair, could exist in a world without mirrors, and is uncomfortable with being told he is handsome even by his girlfriend.

Think of the mothers who raised their sons angry at men, who may or may not be these same sons’ fathers.  What about the mothers that were alone and told young boys of six or seven, “You have to be/are the man of the house”. What lessons or learned behavior do you suppose they will carry with them into adulthood?

Some of the intent illustrated here was be neat and well groomed, don’t treat women badly and be responsible. The question is how did it translate to a child, and how was it interpreted when that child became an adult? One day Mama’s Little Man will in fact be a man, therefore we mothers have an obligation that reaches beyond self.

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