When boiling an egg, setting up a job interview or catching a plane, timing is everything. Is the timing in asking all the right questions as crucial in a relationship? Does it really matter when you speak of love? Does the fact that timing plays a top billing role tell you all you need to know? Before you ring the door bell, brush anything off your shoes that you don’t want to carry into the completely clean house of 2007. In the year of James Bond, everything is going to be shaken, not stirred.
If we could look into our heads while we are ascertaining just what to ask, and when to ask it, we would see the equivalent of ants going back and forth with no apparent reason. But if we had a clear cut directive of exactly what to say, and even better, when to put it out there, wouldn’t that be a picnic!
Alas Goldilocks, that is never going to happen. It’s part of the courtship dance at month 3 or year 7. Wouldn’t it be comforting to have some of the biggest questions set in cement? Hopefully more like Hollywood Boulevard handprints than the Jimmy Hoffa footwear line!
Right along with A, “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” or B, “Out of sight out of mind”, is the eternal C, “Should I ask if love is there?” A good negotiator knows that the first one who talks loses. Does it come down to critical planning? Do we need a whiteboard and colored pens for strategy? Should we have studied the finer points of “Battleship” instead of wasting our youth playing “Yahtzee”?
There is quite a bit to do before climbing out upon the limb-of-no-return, because you can’t go back on “I love you". Once it is out there, it’s like chocolate mousse on a white dress, and speaking of white dresses, is all that white blinding us from the truth?
Saying a name into a mirror three times fogs up the mirror, and alcohol is not truth serum. Pushing someone to say anything that they are not ready to say has a legal connotation. It’s called COERCION! Anything used in a court of law is better left alone. Besides, the shotgun approach will always backfire and you will forever wonder what might have been if you had waited.
If you can’t wait boys and girls, and you don’t hear, feel or see any evil, maybe it’s time to crawl slowly along the limb. Ignore your heart beating like the drums at Mardi Gras, and since you might be there awhile, bring a picnic. You’ll be so intriguing, someone wonderful might join you. If not, enjoy the view from your beautiful and brave heart.
_________________________
Dear Miss Kitty,
I am a recently divorced guy and thinking about dating. I have had sex with the same woman for the last 16 years and just the thought of someone else, even though it does seem exciting, makes me a bit nervous. Thoughts?
-Sitting on the Fence of Love
Dear Fence,
So, you're worried about getting splinters... I understand. Sex with a new partner can be a bit daunting at first, but not all women have a legal pad by the bed and are taking notes. So, congrats for being so brave! My best kept secret is to learn each other slowly. That's what I call "Safe sex". It means that by the time you turn down the lights, snuggle close and kiss each other into the yes zone, you will have a good sense of what she likes and that she likes you. Sex is just like cooking: we never stop learning. So read up on technique, practice, and if she needs a little more salt, don't take it personally. Just adjust the seasoning accordingly.
A very special Happy New Year to Dr. W (My 106 year old fan!)
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Friday, December 29, 2006
Friday, December 22, 2006
Frosty the Romance
Mistletoe hangs above a doorway, and as you pucker up for a stolen kiss… wait…. cut! You mean a parasite that kills trees is a sign to kiss? Something is really wrong here.
How many other signals tell us what is real, and more importantly, what is not, in the frosty world of Holiday Romance? The pressure to have a romantic interest, or an extremely happy partner, is piled upon us like the fruitcake that no one eats. Yes, boys and girls, the holiday season can be a particularly brutal time of year. Like the turkey, goose or roast sacrificed for the Holiday Table, no one is spared.
What could the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future teach us if they could take us on a guided tour of our perceived seasonal realities? Whom should we petition for a new collection of Holiday Messages? Hold the chains, Jacob Marley; this is going to be a long night.
Like Rudolph with his red nose, this can be a time when we feel particularly alone. It’s as if we are one of the creatures on the “Island of Misfit Toys”. A Barbie that doesn’t wear make up. A “Jack in the Box”, with a slow spring. Or maybe a Teddy Bear with limited stuffing.
Does December mark the official graduation from a year of dating? Since when is a trophy required in living color at the holiday office party? Do you have to show up at the Christmas Eve gathering with a smiling spouse, stuffed and mounted? Along with the egg nog that takes a starring role in the dairy case come November, all sorts of sickly sweet and heavy expectations rear up to clog our hearts.
Make those Sugar Plums stop dancing, and notice all the fabulous traditions that hold court, instead of holding hands. One Christmas tree. One Stocking per person (only the fishnets need be a pair!), even Santa makes the rounds alone. The “Wise Men” hang out as a cool threesome and have the bling thing down on Christmas Eve, because (yes), this IS when men shop! All the best people get through the season with style, no matter what.
A romantic interest can be nice, like getting free batteries with a toy soilder, but there is nothing wrong with enjoying the season with friends and family. So, if you do find yourself without a significant other, hug your fabulous self under the parasite - I mean, mistletoe. There is plenty of cheer to share, and the best thing to share is sharing itself. As far as the office parties go, skip “The Date”, enjoy your friends, and bring something slightly naughty for the gift exchange. A very interesting way to liven up the festivities…
Have a naughty day!
How many other signals tell us what is real, and more importantly, what is not, in the frosty world of Holiday Romance? The pressure to have a romantic interest, or an extremely happy partner, is piled upon us like the fruitcake that no one eats. Yes, boys and girls, the holiday season can be a particularly brutal time of year. Like the turkey, goose or roast sacrificed for the Holiday Table, no one is spared.
What could the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future teach us if they could take us on a guided tour of our perceived seasonal realities? Whom should we petition for a new collection of Holiday Messages? Hold the chains, Jacob Marley; this is going to be a long night.
Like Rudolph with his red nose, this can be a time when we feel particularly alone. It’s as if we are one of the creatures on the “Island of Misfit Toys”. A Barbie that doesn’t wear make up. A “Jack in the Box”, with a slow spring. Or maybe a Teddy Bear with limited stuffing.
Does December mark the official graduation from a year of dating? Since when is a trophy required in living color at the holiday office party? Do you have to show up at the Christmas Eve gathering with a smiling spouse, stuffed and mounted? Along with the egg nog that takes a starring role in the dairy case come November, all sorts of sickly sweet and heavy expectations rear up to clog our hearts.
Make those Sugar Plums stop dancing, and notice all the fabulous traditions that hold court, instead of holding hands. One Christmas tree. One Stocking per person (only the fishnets need be a pair!), even Santa makes the rounds alone. The “Wise Men” hang out as a cool threesome and have the bling thing down on Christmas Eve, because (yes), this IS when men shop! All the best people get through the season with style, no matter what.
A romantic interest can be nice, like getting free batteries with a toy soilder, but there is nothing wrong with enjoying the season with friends and family. So, if you do find yourself without a significant other, hug your fabulous self under the parasite - I mean, mistletoe. There is plenty of cheer to share, and the best thing to share is sharing itself. As far as the office parties go, skip “The Date”, enjoy your friends, and bring something slightly naughty for the gift exchange. A very interesting way to liven up the festivities…
Have a naughty day!
Friday, December 1, 2006
Cherries in the Snow
Like the desktop shortcuts on a PC, relationship titles become a cut to the chase. But is it a chase right out of a really good relationship or a heads up to get out of Dodge?
Why are these shortcuts, which are supposed to make everything easier for everyone, turned into something so complicated that even Houdini couldn’t find his way out?
Take the title “Girlfriend” or “Boyfriend” (Don’t even touch “Lover”, a king-size blow torch ready to ignite, unless you live in Europe). You are now in scary territory; the fence is closing around you and you can almost hear the clank of the cold gates of Sing Sing.
But what if the safest and coziest place is on the inside of the fence? A corral of expected expectations? What if the fence is chain link, so you can continue to view the outside world and confirm just how nice it is to know what can be relied upon? How sane to not reinvent the wheel.
Everything has a name but we don’t usually involve ourselves based on the moniker. No, we use other senses to make a judgment call on whatever it is that warrants our interest. Take Revlon’s “Cherries in the Snow". It’s red nail polish. That’s it; nothing to do with cherries, snow, or cherries in the snow.
A relationship sans name doesn’t bother us at first; we don’t even notice for a few months. We enjoy the ride. Then, like a love sick teenager drawing little hearts all over a folder, we have to bestow a title to know where we are. Give a relationship a name, rank and serial number, and suddenly the water is rising and the boat has a leak.
Take Fay Wray and King Kong. Besides the obvious size issue, they didn’t stand a chance. No one let them decide how to define their relationship themselves. Just gave it a name, enough rope, and watched it hang itself on top of the Empire State Building.
And, close on the heels of the official naming, come the official words. Why does “I love you” up the anxiety factor, so much so that we may back up when we don’t really want to? Like the ghost of old graffiti showing through fresh new paint, our past pain will be there. It is part of the landscape of our hearts, not the whole country.
Chilled poached chicken breast on a bed of mixed greens, with tarragon champagne vinaigrette. Mmmm! Sounds good and you know exactly what you are getting. It will taste like chicken because it is chicken. Apparently everything tastes like chicken, but hey, what a concept! Since we have the ability to define precisely what a relationship means to each of us, there is no need to accept shrimp on a stick when anticipating chicken. Enjoy your chicken, finger licking good, smile and feel the joy of a new love with a healthy side of optimism.
Have a naughty day!
Why are these shortcuts, which are supposed to make everything easier for everyone, turned into something so complicated that even Houdini couldn’t find his way out?
Take the title “Girlfriend” or “Boyfriend” (Don’t even touch “Lover”, a king-size blow torch ready to ignite, unless you live in Europe). You are now in scary territory; the fence is closing around you and you can almost hear the clank of the cold gates of Sing Sing.
But what if the safest and coziest place is on the inside of the fence? A corral of expected expectations? What if the fence is chain link, so you can continue to view the outside world and confirm just how nice it is to know what can be relied upon? How sane to not reinvent the wheel.
Everything has a name but we don’t usually involve ourselves based on the moniker. No, we use other senses to make a judgment call on whatever it is that warrants our interest. Take Revlon’s “Cherries in the Snow". It’s red nail polish. That’s it; nothing to do with cherries, snow, or cherries in the snow.
A relationship sans name doesn’t bother us at first; we don’t even notice for a few months. We enjoy the ride. Then, like a love sick teenager drawing little hearts all over a folder, we have to bestow a title to know where we are. Give a relationship a name, rank and serial number, and suddenly the water is rising and the boat has a leak.
Take Fay Wray and King Kong. Besides the obvious size issue, they didn’t stand a chance. No one let them decide how to define their relationship themselves. Just gave it a name, enough rope, and watched it hang itself on top of the Empire State Building.
And, close on the heels of the official naming, come the official words. Why does “I love you” up the anxiety factor, so much so that we may back up when we don’t really want to? Like the ghost of old graffiti showing through fresh new paint, our past pain will be there. It is part of the landscape of our hearts, not the whole country.
Chilled poached chicken breast on a bed of mixed greens, with tarragon champagne vinaigrette. Mmmm! Sounds good and you know exactly what you are getting. It will taste like chicken because it is chicken. Apparently everything tastes like chicken, but hey, what a concept! Since we have the ability to define precisely what a relationship means to each of us, there is no need to accept shrimp on a stick when anticipating chicken. Enjoy your chicken, finger licking good, smile and feel the joy of a new love with a healthy side of optimism.
Have a naughty day!
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