Next to hearing that a size 2 is really a 14 and the garment industry has been lying on a level that makes local newspaper editors seem like paragons of truth, nothing is more icy and disquieting than hearing the words that someone loves us, but is not in love with us, and is moving on.
When we find ourselves in a new relationship and the intensity of the feelings are not only deep, but very fast, we are given all sorts of warnings by well- meaning friends and family. Depending on our history, some may even lash us to a chair in the hopes that immobilizing us will cause some modicum of reflective thinking and slow us down.
Usually, Houdini-like thoughts are the only thing on the agenda, as one is trying to extricate oneself from the well intentioned, if not well tied bondage ropes! Even strapped down and blindfolded, the idyllic vision of being in love is as obvious (To us anyway) as a black licorice bikini on a polar bear. We know what we want and we intend to get it.
Once a socially acceptable period has elapsed, the self-appointed and well-meaning relationship police have been soothed by time and no longer come around with advice, chairs and ropes. With enough time, no one seems to remember their words of cautionary advice about going too fast.
Once a couple arrives at the imaginary time-marker milestone, the “next” chapter demands to be written. Who is holding the pen and mapping out the next phase? Is it love? Is it desire? If so, full speed ahead Boys and Girls, but if not, now is the time that the relationship SWAT team should double their reinforcements, break out the big box of bondage and tie you up until you make a decision based on feelings and not facts. Shocked are you? This time around, the facts - not feelings - are putting us in the love dog house.
Compost piles are naturally full of foliage, but no one gets an award for the most beautiful compost-garden. Tar is natural, but we hardly embrace the sticky stuff when it attaches to the soles of our feet. Why, then, do we stop the questioning when making a “natural” step into the future when we are basing the decision on what society considers acceptable time already spent? It may be a natural progression to live together, but just because we have sailed past six-month Harbor doesn’t mean it is right to go any further. When have landed at living together on 3-year Island, how do we know we really want to take the “next” step? Maybe there isn’t a next step to take.
From high up on my kitty soap box: Don’t choose to go ashore, without taking the time to check the fickle gypsy love meter, and making sure it hits the highest level of passion. The first stepping stone on the ugly and rocky path to the “I love you, but I am not in love with you” torture chamber, is not heeding the siren’s call of truth or maybe dare, from the rocky coast of everyday. To hear these frightening words are excruciatingly painful, and although it can feel like a death sentence, trust Miss Kitty, you will survive. You will survive to eventually thank that man or woman whom had the courage to save you both, because if it isn’t right for one, it isn’t right for either.
If finances, conventional logic, society’s “Normal” time frames, or the fact that all your friends are tying the knot (Like lambs to the slaughter in Spring time) are weighing in with any influence at all, don’t do it! Make sure feelings are holding steady at the helm, for only LOVE, pure love, is the reason to put your hand in another’s for all time.
Have a naughty day!
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Friday, April 27, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
Playing for Keeps and Cashing Out.
Within hours of arriving at your glitzy desert destination you feel you've been there for days. Complete strangers on the elevator ride up to sharing wallet sized photos on the way down, all within less than half an hour, and no one has been drinking yet. Cocktail waitresses are on a first name basis and so are the 3 guys from New York that appear over and over again throughout the day. We can't wait to "get away" and "leave it all behind" but as soon as we "get there" we set up house, make friends with the neighbors, and invite Teresa the cocktail waitress to a wedding.
Why do we need to make the unfamiliar the familiar so badly even when the intuition fairy is screaming "Get out of Dodge!" over and over again in our heads? We know a hotel isn't a home and an acquaintance isn't a friend, but the lines become blurry in our desire to make it work, regardless of the reality. Kenny Rodgers may have said it best, “You got to know when to fold ‘em, know when to hold ‘em and know when to walk away, when the dealings done.”
At a fancy dinner party, one is served sorbet to cleanse the palate to assist in discriminating the next taste. A clean opportunity for the mouth to be selective and aware of what it will experience next. Unlike the culinary world, in relationships we want to quickly establish it as an old favorite, based on the hunger to feel comfortable. Sometimes, we're not really content with what we have created, but initially it feels like we are. When we wake up and realize what we have done, we panic. Can we undo the present we never really wanted? Boys and Girls, is it so scary to just make it up as you go along, push through something unknown, and stop trying to MAKE it work?
The biggest and brightest Casinos in Lost Wages are the crown jewels of the most glamorous cities of the world: Paris, The Venetian, and seriously retro Rome, Caesar's Palace. In sin city, you can kiss under the Eiffel Tower, ride in a Gondola and if you can't make it anywhere, you can make it in New York New York.
Even in the land of make believe, the known and comfortable lead the pack. Is it because we are comfortable with the available choices? That they are the only visions we would entertain anyway? Imagine Calcutta Casino. Karma Coins, Reincarnation Roulette (and don't tip the beggars - they're on payroll) as atmosphere along with the skinny cows roaming around the lobby.
Deutschland has rooms available if the Calcutta is full. It's got 6 restaurants and 4 cafes, all serving Bratwurst, pretzels and kraut. And that's all. Open 23.6 hours a day, the wait staff wears Heidi dresses or Lederhosen, and the drinks come in a keg sized souvenir Dachshunds. And make sure you visit The Wall. It's a hot new club serving beer, beer and beer. Did I mention beer? Sit on the West side; it's the only way to actually get a table or anything else for that matter.
Then there's the new darling on The Strip, Israel. Make sure you visit the Wailing Wall when you've lost all your Kosher Koins. It talks back! "Didn't your mother tell you not to gamble? How about some nice Chicken Soup to make you feel better - and go wash your hands you don't know where the Kosher Koins have been."
Miss Kitty's Casinos may be a little crazy, but you couldn't help but go there in your imagination and take a peek. It's fun, and you can always make up your own. Imagine The Vatican, The Airport, or Oxnard (just put strawberry fields in between the Blackjack and Craps tables).
When it comes to your current or pending idea of a relationship, check in with yourself frequently to make sure the cards you are holding are the ones you really want. If your gut knows they aren’t right, don’t be afraid to thrown them back and wait for something better. You won’t be lonely, those guys from New York and of course, Theresa will be there to keep you company. (Mom, since I know you will ask, I am still madly love with RM, this is just a premise for KITC)
Have a naughty day!
Why do we need to make the unfamiliar the familiar so badly even when the intuition fairy is screaming "Get out of Dodge!" over and over again in our heads? We know a hotel isn't a home and an acquaintance isn't a friend, but the lines become blurry in our desire to make it work, regardless of the reality. Kenny Rodgers may have said it best, “You got to know when to fold ‘em, know when to hold ‘em and know when to walk away, when the dealings done.”
At a fancy dinner party, one is served sorbet to cleanse the palate to assist in discriminating the next taste. A clean opportunity for the mouth to be selective and aware of what it will experience next. Unlike the culinary world, in relationships we want to quickly establish it as an old favorite, based on the hunger to feel comfortable. Sometimes, we're not really content with what we have created, but initially it feels like we are. When we wake up and realize what we have done, we panic. Can we undo the present we never really wanted? Boys and Girls, is it so scary to just make it up as you go along, push through something unknown, and stop trying to MAKE it work?
The biggest and brightest Casinos in Lost Wages are the crown jewels of the most glamorous cities of the world: Paris, The Venetian, and seriously retro Rome, Caesar's Palace. In sin city, you can kiss under the Eiffel Tower, ride in a Gondola and if you can't make it anywhere, you can make it in New York New York.
Even in the land of make believe, the known and comfortable lead the pack. Is it because we are comfortable with the available choices? That they are the only visions we would entertain anyway? Imagine Calcutta Casino. Karma Coins, Reincarnation Roulette (and don't tip the beggars - they're on payroll) as atmosphere along with the skinny cows roaming around the lobby.
Deutschland has rooms available if the Calcutta is full. It's got 6 restaurants and 4 cafes, all serving Bratwurst, pretzels and kraut. And that's all. Open 23.6 hours a day, the wait staff wears Heidi dresses or Lederhosen, and the drinks come in a keg sized souvenir Dachshunds. And make sure you visit The Wall. It's a hot new club serving beer, beer and beer. Did I mention beer? Sit on the West side; it's the only way to actually get a table or anything else for that matter.
Then there's the new darling on The Strip, Israel. Make sure you visit the Wailing Wall when you've lost all your Kosher Koins. It talks back! "Didn't your mother tell you not to gamble? How about some nice Chicken Soup to make you feel better - and go wash your hands you don't know where the Kosher Koins have been."
Miss Kitty's Casinos may be a little crazy, but you couldn't help but go there in your imagination and take a peek. It's fun, and you can always make up your own. Imagine The Vatican, The Airport, or Oxnard (just put strawberry fields in between the Blackjack and Craps tables).
When it comes to your current or pending idea of a relationship, check in with yourself frequently to make sure the cards you are holding are the ones you really want. If your gut knows they aren’t right, don’t be afraid to thrown them back and wait for something better. You won’t be lonely, those guys from New York and of course, Theresa will be there to keep you company. (Mom, since I know you will ask, I am still madly love with RM, this is just a premise for KITC)
Have a naughty day!
Friday, April 13, 2007
Gamblers and Undressing for Success
Dear Miss Kitty,
A few weeks ago I met a woman at a club in town and we have been spending a lot of time together. She likes really nice places and I make good money, but it seems that she doesn’t want to spend any time with me, unless we are doing something expensive. I really like her and I have the cash, so that isn’t the problem, I just wonder why some women expect to be doing extravagant things all the time? What is wrong with dinner at home or a nice walk together?
Mike on the Mesa
Dear Mike,
Mythic messages lure us to Sin City; to gather at the temples of endless stimulation of all kinds. As we tread upon the overly ornate carpet, hope springs eternal that we will be a winner- one of the few, the proud, and the lucky.
There are pilgrims of reality, who accurately surmise that the decks are as stacked as the cocktails waitresses who bring round after round, poured with a heavy hand to help you play with an even more heavy hand. In the dating world, as in Vegas, aren’t all who play holding the proverbial half- full glass? Are we gamblers or true blue optimists to place down hard earned cash and let the dice fall where they may?
An optimist is classified as 1. Someone who usually expects a favorable outcome or 2. A believer in philosophical optimism. Would a true believer take the same risk when the supposed love of his or her life is stacking the deck and rigging the table? When the pit boss, aka Cupid, is calling the shots on hidden camera, and is now working for the dark side? Is irrational optimism wearing the halo of the naive and pure, or is wannabe love as blind as the real thing?
Like summer fruit, relationships grow and ripen at different speeds; perhaps a red light, or at least a yellow one should be our guide, if we are in a vastly different place then the supposed object of our affections. If we are head over heels, and he or she is still standing upright, it might just be a sign to slow down and squeeze the fruit more carefully? When what we hear isn’t what we see, or when what we see isn’t what we hear, Darling Boys, Girls and Mike, it may be time to back away from the slot machine, take our chips with us, and observe our love interest from afar.
We may be having an encounter with that paragon of anti-love, “The Taker”. Although our friends and family can see it as clearly as if Austin Powers was trekking through Yosemite in a fuchsia wet suit, we can’t, unless we back off and take our wallets with us.
Takers come in various shapes and sizes and work from both sides of the gender pool. They are classified as Arm Candy, Gold Diggers, and Boy Toys. They also show up in a short or long- term marriage, when one gives and one takes endlessly. They will say and do whatever is needed to continue the steady stream of the good life in their direction; exchange for a faucet of hot and cold esteem aimed back at you.
Go outside, away from the glare of the blinking lights, and check the glass: you will find it not just half empty, but drained to the very bottom. Where is your self esteem now?
When one is really in love, the electricity is palpable to others, as they receive a small jolt from the fallout of sparks. It takes two to generate this evolved level of feeling. No one is hiding anything when feelings can be seen, heard and observed so clearly. When someone seems to be in love with your bank account, high end lifestyle, or a whirlwind trip to Paris, take time -out to see if something is really there or not.
An endless supply of stuff will only delay the eventual conclusion. Miss Kitty believes that the manifestations of true love can’t be simulated, although she must confess that a cubic zirconium looks an awful lot like a real diamond to the untrained eye. By the way Mike, try a simple sandwich on the beach, see what happens and keep me posted!
Have a naughty day!
A few weeks ago I met a woman at a club in town and we have been spending a lot of time together. She likes really nice places and I make good money, but it seems that she doesn’t want to spend any time with me, unless we are doing something expensive. I really like her and I have the cash, so that isn’t the problem, I just wonder why some women expect to be doing extravagant things all the time? What is wrong with dinner at home or a nice walk together?
Mike on the Mesa
Dear Mike,
Mythic messages lure us to Sin City; to gather at the temples of endless stimulation of all kinds. As we tread upon the overly ornate carpet, hope springs eternal that we will be a winner- one of the few, the proud, and the lucky.
There are pilgrims of reality, who accurately surmise that the decks are as stacked as the cocktails waitresses who bring round after round, poured with a heavy hand to help you play with an even more heavy hand. In the dating world, as in Vegas, aren’t all who play holding the proverbial half- full glass? Are we gamblers or true blue optimists to place down hard earned cash and let the dice fall where they may?
An optimist is classified as 1. Someone who usually expects a favorable outcome or 2. A believer in philosophical optimism. Would a true believer take the same risk when the supposed love of his or her life is stacking the deck and rigging the table? When the pit boss, aka Cupid, is calling the shots on hidden camera, and is now working for the dark side? Is irrational optimism wearing the halo of the naive and pure, or is wannabe love as blind as the real thing?
Like summer fruit, relationships grow and ripen at different speeds; perhaps a red light, or at least a yellow one should be our guide, if we are in a vastly different place then the supposed object of our affections. If we are head over heels, and he or she is still standing upright, it might just be a sign to slow down and squeeze the fruit more carefully? When what we hear isn’t what we see, or when what we see isn’t what we hear, Darling Boys, Girls and Mike, it may be time to back away from the slot machine, take our chips with us, and observe our love interest from afar.
We may be having an encounter with that paragon of anti-love, “The Taker”. Although our friends and family can see it as clearly as if Austin Powers was trekking through Yosemite in a fuchsia wet suit, we can’t, unless we back off and take our wallets with us.
Takers come in various shapes and sizes and work from both sides of the gender pool. They are classified as Arm Candy, Gold Diggers, and Boy Toys. They also show up in a short or long- term marriage, when one gives and one takes endlessly. They will say and do whatever is needed to continue the steady stream of the good life in their direction; exchange for a faucet of hot and cold esteem aimed back at you.
Go outside, away from the glare of the blinking lights, and check the glass: you will find it not just half empty, but drained to the very bottom. Where is your self esteem now?
When one is really in love, the electricity is palpable to others, as they receive a small jolt from the fallout of sparks. It takes two to generate this evolved level of feeling. No one is hiding anything when feelings can be seen, heard and observed so clearly. When someone seems to be in love with your bank account, high end lifestyle, or a whirlwind trip to Paris, take time -out to see if something is really there or not.
An endless supply of stuff will only delay the eventual conclusion. Miss Kitty believes that the manifestations of true love can’t be simulated, although she must confess that a cubic zirconium looks an awful lot like a real diamond to the untrained eye. By the way Mike, try a simple sandwich on the beach, see what happens and keep me posted!
Have a naughty day!
Friday, April 6, 2007
Chocolate bunnies and Mystery Eggs
If you decided, one November, to dress up in a Bunny suit and deliver candy eggs, your friends and family would be confused. Medication might be administered and a “Well- earned” break might be advised. When we are adults we can wait for holidays, because we understand the law of historically anticipated events. They will happen! You can take a chocolate bunny to the bank that Easter will happen this Sunday.
It is not so for children. Along with most A-list Holidays, traditional cartoons present themselves, with the theme that the Holiday will be taken away. The Grinch, Frosty the Snowman, even Peter Rabbit have to fight the badly dressed evil entity to ensure that the Holiday of the moment will have its day. Of course, good always triumphs over evil, but the little watcher still goes through the potential that the long awaited event just might not happen.
Isn’t it strange that we fight so hard to make sure that romance goes our way, when even “Bunny Day” can be threatened? What does it take to trust the future when our own personal cartoons stir their pots of discord at every opportunity? Why is it that it can be so difficult to find that simple measure of unequivocal belief in a relationship? That the “Right one”, the “Right moment”, the “Right future” will present itself when it is ready.
Like outdated social rules, we invent time-frames and preconceived ideas about how to handle the natural progression of a relationship. These mass-manifested milestones give us comfort that something is progressing in a positive direction. Instead of letting love find its own way we are inclined to set up bright orange pylons to direct the romantic traffic into what we think is the safest or fastest path.
Is this desire to organize emotional and geographical bonding born out of frustration, sadness and long expired coupons of promise? Or is it analytical thinking at its best, a couple able to decide what really works for them, regardless of convention? Perhaps it is as simple as wanting to be with someone and to live in the now, as you wish to have been living all along.
This Sunday, Boys and Girls look for the purple egg of serenity. One special egg that means you can live love without an hourglass along side a bottle of champagne. This egg is the one that belongs in a pastel basket complete with a calendar where all the days are colored red for love. Maybe some of us will never completely trust that what we want will appear when we want it to, or that Easter takes two. One to hide the eggs and one to find them, and then again, maybe we just need to grow up. Have a naughty Easter.
Dear Miss Kitty,
I am a High School Senior and prom is coming up. Here’s the thing. My buddies and I made an Excel spread sheet and figured that with all the money we would be spending, we could each get a high class call girl and really have the time of our lives, what do you think? By the way, Eric says you are really hot for an older chick.
The Dudes
Dear Dudes,
Hot Eric? You have no idea, and that’s not surprising, considering your place on the ladder of sexual sophistication. Like wine, it gets better and better, so take your time. Your love life isn’t going anywhere without you. Therefore, no call girls! Prom is a big set- up, training camp for out dated and unfair fiscal penalties for having a penis! Split the costs! It’s not like either one of you has a healthy income, 401K’s, and stocks paying out serious dividends on a regular basis! I recently took Rocket Man out on a date, He told me the often told tale that it was the first time a woman had organized, paid and made sure he was well taken care of the entire evening. Yesterday I sent flowers! That’s right girls, sending a man flowers feels even better than when you get them sent to you. (Miss Kitty Tip- Renae’s Bouquets makes elegant “man flowers” like no one else.)
Have a naughty day!
It is not so for children. Along with most A-list Holidays, traditional cartoons present themselves, with the theme that the Holiday will be taken away. The Grinch, Frosty the Snowman, even Peter Rabbit have to fight the badly dressed evil entity to ensure that the Holiday of the moment will have its day. Of course, good always triumphs over evil, but the little watcher still goes through the potential that the long awaited event just might not happen.
Isn’t it strange that we fight so hard to make sure that romance goes our way, when even “Bunny Day” can be threatened? What does it take to trust the future when our own personal cartoons stir their pots of discord at every opportunity? Why is it that it can be so difficult to find that simple measure of unequivocal belief in a relationship? That the “Right one”, the “Right moment”, the “Right future” will present itself when it is ready.
Like outdated social rules, we invent time-frames and preconceived ideas about how to handle the natural progression of a relationship. These mass-manifested milestones give us comfort that something is progressing in a positive direction. Instead of letting love find its own way we are inclined to set up bright orange pylons to direct the romantic traffic into what we think is the safest or fastest path.
Is this desire to organize emotional and geographical bonding born out of frustration, sadness and long expired coupons of promise? Or is it analytical thinking at its best, a couple able to decide what really works for them, regardless of convention? Perhaps it is as simple as wanting to be with someone and to live in the now, as you wish to have been living all along.
This Sunday, Boys and Girls look for the purple egg of serenity. One special egg that means you can live love without an hourglass along side a bottle of champagne. This egg is the one that belongs in a pastel basket complete with a calendar where all the days are colored red for love. Maybe some of us will never completely trust that what we want will appear when we want it to, or that Easter takes two. One to hide the eggs and one to find them, and then again, maybe we just need to grow up. Have a naughty Easter.
Dear Miss Kitty,
I am a High School Senior and prom is coming up. Here’s the thing. My buddies and I made an Excel spread sheet and figured that with all the money we would be spending, we could each get a high class call girl and really have the time of our lives, what do you think? By the way, Eric says you are really hot for an older chick.
The Dudes
Dear Dudes,
Hot Eric? You have no idea, and that’s not surprising, considering your place on the ladder of sexual sophistication. Like wine, it gets better and better, so take your time. Your love life isn’t going anywhere without you. Therefore, no call girls! Prom is a big set- up, training camp for out dated and unfair fiscal penalties for having a penis! Split the costs! It’s not like either one of you has a healthy income, 401K’s, and stocks paying out serious dividends on a regular basis! I recently took Rocket Man out on a date, He told me the often told tale that it was the first time a woman had organized, paid and made sure he was well taken care of the entire evening. Yesterday I sent flowers! That’s right girls, sending a man flowers feels even better than when you get them sent to you. (Miss Kitty Tip- Renae’s Bouquets makes elegant “man flowers” like no one else.)
Have a naughty day!
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