Tuesday, February 21, 2012

White Girls Can’t Zumba

November 2011


Yes, you may start laughing NOW! Where is U-Tube when you need them? Several months ago I bought the Zumba workout kit. Why? Well, almost every woman I saw who had lost a significant amount of weight AND looked toned said-in a very Latin/sexy tone of voice-"ZUMBA BABY"! From my sister-in law, who is Hispanic to my girlfriend in Houston who is Indian (from India) Zumba has hit home in las casas todos!
Me and my Julio Iglesias loving-I can sing all of his songs IN Spanish-self figured since I was so in-tune with the Hispanic culture I should be able to Zumba. After all, I lived in Spain for a whole month, have salsa danced for years as a tweenie (someone in their twenties) and saw Ricky Martin LIVE in a Bull-fighting arena for the love of all things Latin! Piece of Cake! Let's just state here that I am now clear a man will tell you ANYTHING to get you to color outside the lines. Clearly, even tell you you can (salsa) dance. If you want to know whether or not YOU can salsa dance-I have the bench mark test...Zumba Baby!
So, after a twenty minute ordeal of figuring out the DVD system, which did NOT count as a workout, I was plugged in to the newest craze for Las ninas Flacas everywhere! When the rhythm started and I saw all the people on the stage I was ready! Then their bodies started moving and I fell down. Luckily I heard someone say, "Now that you have done the basic video-please make sure you do the basic video first-you are ready for the Zumba LIVE workout"! Ariba!
Holy $#!t! What BASIC video...hold on...Whew! There it was, like a tortilla next to barbacoa. Quickly, before my husband noticed, I switched out the cd's and was calmed by a less rhythmic tone. Just 16 beats/second! But still, it didn't help my coordination look any more Latin. More like a duck skating on ice for the first time. "Who am I and where did Crystal go?" I asked myself while looking at my reflection in the TV and stumbling over my feet. What has happened to my rhythm? Maybe I'm just feeling under pressure to perform in front of the three hot Latin chicas on the DVD...I really do want to make an impression so they will invite me back to the live performance but I'm afraid the impression I'm making is more akin to rednecks taking a city slicker snipe hunting. I'm just sayin'.
This all started b/c one of my girlfriends and I are going to start taking salsa lessons. I'm white and she's black. We're going to be in a salsa class. Does ANYONE have a video camera we can borrow? Oh, and don't think cuz she's black she has any more rhythm than I have. She does not. The stereotype ends here. I know. I was shocked too. And if I can get a couple more runs through the video before our first real class I can look a little better than her. And really, isn't that what working out is all about? Looking better than your friends?
And if that IS the goal, I suggest you take your first Zumba class in an enclosed environment or in a foreign county. Cuz if your friends see you doing the booty circle or the body roll for the very first time...I"m just sayin! No muy caliente!

Un-Cosmopolitan

5 October 2011

Hello again readers. It's been awhile since I've written my own column...have to be inspired. And I was. During a recent visit to the dermatologist I was thumbing through Cosmopolitan magazine and found an article titled "Winning the Dating Game". Then as I read a bit further I realized they were talking to the WOMEN! What? Yep. Right there in the very first sentence they said "There's nothing better than hearing an enthusiastic 'yes!' after asking a GUY out."
First of all, you (ladies) do NOT, under any circumstances, ask a GUY out. Nope. No way. Not a chance. Not on a Wednesday. Not ever. Hopefully ladies have been faithful readers and put into practice what I've been telling you. You may not sprinkle pixie dust on the rotation of the love universe. Men hunt. Women are hunt-ED. Period. That is, of course, if you want a strong man. Now, if you want the wimpy man, go ahead, ask him out. Take away his manhood, if he ever had any. Let him use you (cuz chances are he will) if that's your game. But, if you want a real relationship let him do the asking.
What is about yourself that you find un-worthy of following the traditional rules? Because that is the exact question he is going to ask himself. The HuntER/HuntED thing has been happening for EONS for a reason! It works with the order of the universe! Don't you want a man who wants YOU? Of course you do, in the long run. Otherwise, you'll just be calling all the shots all of the time and that would be B.O.R.I.N.G. And when he does ask you out make sure you are GOING OUT. Not going to his place to "hang out". That is not a date. My friend Richard said to be different. Do something no other woman is doing. WAIT!
Once upon a time in a town far away my famous UB visited me. We went to Clear Lake and looked at all the wonderful sailing boats and at some point I had to open my trunk. UB noticed a set of golf clubs and a tackle box among other goodies in my trunk. He asked "Who's is that?" Well, who's car is it? It's mine. "What's in the tackle box?" Uh, TACKLE. "You have a set of golf clubs AND a tackle box, with tackle in it, in the trunk of your car and you're still single?" Why, yes, I am. At my own choosing.
Now, the golf clubs and the tackle box are long gone but the message is still fresh. Men want an independent woman with hobbies AND a mind of her own. They want a woman who can hang with the guys but still be a lady. None of that = you asking HIM out. Period. No way. Not a chance. And if you read He's Just Not That Into You you'd know that asking a man out is not ok, not even during an Eastern Seaboard blackout. If you’ve been paying even a little bit of attention to the way things actually WORK then you know a man who wants a woman will move heaven and earth to be with her. Now why on earth do you, o woman, want anything less? Don’t be desperate. It’s NOT attractive.
Men are simple. They want to loved and adored but not chased, for long. If you chase him you may catch him. If you catch him you may marry him. But, chances are that he will not really respect you. Men tell me stories ALL the time of how THEY caught their woman. When they did the hunting and their wife was being hunted the men tell their stories with pride, admiration and respect. When it's the other way around the stories are quite pathetic really.
Make a stand ladies. Wait. Do NOT ask a man out on a date. Just because they do it that way in New York, doesn't mean it's cosmopolitan!

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Eat.Pray.Love.Read.Write.

Written 04 August 2010

by Crystal Laramore Lutz

My friend, Alta Gibbs, gives a whole new meaning to “My Square Friends”. It’s a working title to a book I’m writing about the women who own business’ on the Courthouse Square in Coldspring, TX. This little nugget of information will make some women squirm in their girdles, some will retain lawyers yet cause others, like Alta and Peggy, to hurry me along so they can sell the book in their shop!

Alta and Peggy’s shop is called Studio on the Square and it’s FABulous! Today I walked over there, across two streets and down the road where it is nestled perfectly in the middle of a long row of buildings; snuggled right up against an innocent tree that was almost murdered. They just bought it and are having a blast, those two! Alta defined the term “Fashion Icon” at some point in her life I am sure. She is a very interesting woman with very interesting friends. Namely me. Snicker. Alta is a gifted painter, a mother a grandmother and an entrepreneur. She is unstoppable and I really love her spirit. She is a no-nonsense kind of person. You know if she likes you and it’s hard to not know if she doesn’t. Reminds me of…

Alta and Peggy carry fabulous furniture, lamps, vases, jewelry, art, etc. My husband and I have bought some unique pieces of furniture from Alta and Peggy for the new amazing house we are building. He and I both have loved every piece I’ve picked out and that says a lot about their taste. I’ve turned on all my girlfriends to this shop. My best friend Scarlett and my other friend Scarlett and so on all love the store too. It’s like I find something new every time I go in. You just gotta go! Call me for directions.

When I walked in their shop today to give them some MORE of my money for some fabulous metal outdoor wall fish etc., Alta was unpacking yet more goodies and screamed from the back “Hey, Crystal! Have you read Eat. Pray. Love. yet? Come look, I’ve got a whole display here for this book. I love it!" As I made my way to the back I realized that indeed, she truly MUST be inspired! She had prayer beads EVERYWHERE. In EVERY size. I bought 8 sets. She had three copies of the book laying about and all sorts of wares from India and Indonesia. I can only giggle when I think of what Peggy must think on a regular basis about her spirited partner. Peggy is calm. Alta is the opposite. Alta is the hurricane. Peggy is the Island that the hurricane swirls around; makes for a great partnership!

“Oh my gosh! I love this display! Eat. Pray. Love. I'm all about it! When did you read the book?” I asked. “I haven’t finished it yet” she said. “Where are you? I’m in Indonesia.” Alta said “I’m just through the first chapter. I LOVE it!” I just laughed until my peach tea came out of my nose. Inspired indeed. By just that first chapter? I cannot wait to see what the shop is going to look like when she finally gets out of Italy, through India and into Indonesia. Get ready Peggy!

Alta told me she’s already ready to head out NOW. I shared with her my Eat. Pray. Love. story. I’m sure there are as many of these personal stories as there are women who have read the book. I told Alta that I had actual possession of the book for over a year before I cracked it open. Not my typical M.O. A book doesn’t last long just hanging round my house not being read. However, this book lasted longer than most just hanging out and visiting other people. That is something else I usually do not tolerate where my books are concerned. They are not allowed vacations or sleepovers with anyone but me. I’m over-protective like that. “You want a book? Go get your own. This one is mine.”

However, I had loaned out my Eat. Pray. Love. book to my sister, Jacqueline. We are blood. And not only that, I forgot about it. Shut up! I know! About a month ago I went to visit Jacqueline and she gave it back to me. It was just rudely shoved into my hand without a proper re-introduction. It made my heart skip a few beats. Oh! THAT book. The scary book. The only book I can recall making my palms sweaty BEFORE I read it. Why? Because I KNEW what was IN THERE…I KNEW the basic story. I KNEW she was my kindred spirit. I knew this silly, tiny, harmless book would awaken the desire in me to go travel again. As if my desire to travel needs nudging. Maybe I should wait another year???

But the dam movie is out! My bff, Melanie, told me I HAD to read it because we WERE going to the movie to see it. Which means popcorn so I was kinda glad to be holding EPL in my sweaty palms after all. I slept on the sofa at my sister's house that night with EPL right by my side on the coffee table. Waiting. Taunting.

Look, I was a happily confirmed bachelorette until HE showed up. I had really, truly had it (in a bad and final way) with men and their lies and their wishy, washy ways. And then HE showed up. And he showed up in big way. Kept every promise and then some. Swept me off my feet and put me right back on them on a beach in Hawaii with a wedding band and the promise of love everlasting. And he has been a wonderful husband. The perfect husband for me.

But still. The yearning to travel is the greatest yearning my soul has ever had. Not children. Not marriage. Not a great career. Not money. Travel. Just travel. I do love my husband dearly and completely. I do love my daughter that came with my wonderful husband. I love both of my businesses. I love a lot of things and a lot more people. But I yearn to travel. To marvel at God. To look what he made for all of us. To feel what God must have been feeling when he designed the beautiful oceans, mountains, forests, rain forests and all the people of the world. Sadly, my husband is perfect and funny and smart and gracious and loving and tender and manly and DOES NOT LIKE TO TRAVEL. AT ALL. He likes to be at HOME.

Travel is almost the be all end all for me. It was necessary for me to eat all the tropical fruits/foods of Thailand, pray on the beaches and tour the war museums of Vietnam then walk among the spirits in 800 BC castles in Cambodia and touch the walls so many have touched before me. Deep breath. I’m ready. I can do this. I’m settled in my marriage. We are truly in love and have a great committed relationship. And, he doesn’t care one bit if I take off for two weeks to parts unknown.

So there I was in a good place in life, marriage and motherhood, getting ready to go on a 10 hour drive with my family to Missouri and decided it was time to dig in. It was the perfect escape. And then he asked me to read to him…“Oh, I’m not at a good place to read to you right this second. Wait till the next chapter.” No. Read to me baby! I wanna know what is so intriguing about this book….“OK. You asked for it“…I was at the part where she was on her bathroom floor…feeling the need to…travel. “That woman sounds just like you baby!” Right! Which, is why it's taken me so long to crack it open. (Don't want to spoil the book by saying another word. Remember, Alta is only on the first chapter!)

Isn’t God funny?

Ex Marks the Spot

Written 28 July 2010


When I look around at all the Great Women of America GWA (hereto after referred to as GWA) out there dating a Richard who is hung up on an ex relationship that was so bad it ended I just want to scream. It seems like you guys need the conflict so you can have conflict resolution. What good is a relationship if it doesn’t need fixing? Right? I am man. Hear me settle...
So Guys, help us understand. Why, oh why do you chase after relationships that are full of turmoil, chaos and basic unhealthy ingredients? We GWA really want to know.
In the last several months I’ve run across a number of Richards who can’t seem to get their emotions in check concerning their ex’s. Additionally, I’ve ran across a couple of Sophias who are dating some of these Richards or have male friends who are going through ex withdrawal.
Now, mind you all of these men did the leaving. Not one of the stories I’ve heard in the last several months was about the man getting dumped and hence having rejection blues. No, this group of Richards had the foresight to know a bad thing when they saw it. All or part of the relationship was poison and they left. But now, but NOW they are looking back wondering if maybe they were at fault, maybe they could have done something more. Maybe she was -insert verb- b/c he made her that way. Yeah, that’s it!

mis*take (noun)

1. incorrect act or decision
an incorrect, unwise or unfortunate act or decision caused by bad judgment or a lack of information or care
2. error
something in a piece of work that is incorrect…(relationships are a piece of work)
3. identify somebody or something incorrectly
to identify somebody or something incorrectly…(it’s ok. Correct your course)
4. choose something incorrectly
to choose something incorrectly or injudiciously (take your time and
choose wisely)

in*san*i*ty (noun)

1. lack of reason or good sense
extreme foolishness or an act that demonstrates such foolishness (going back to a hurtful relationship)
2. repeating the same process and expecting different results (My personal favorite but not found in ANY dictionary)
We have all gone back at least once, to a bad relationship and where did that get us? Further behind. When I say bad relationship I’m not covering the entire relationship with the “bad” blanket. I’m covering the whole of it. Are you with me? If 98% is right and 2% is wrong it depends on what the 2% consists of. Sometimes that 2% is SO significant that when it’s wrong it wipes out the 98% that is good. I’ve been there, I know.
When we leave a relationship we’ve been making the decision for a long time; sometimes weeks, months or for the slow-to-go, years. If we have thought that long about leaving, then it is most likely a mistake to return. Yes I know, we all get lonely and our routines change and memories flood in and out of our minds and hearts and we yearn for the good times. Time erases a lot of bad memories.
But we must remember the basic, fundamental reasons we left. We need to reign in our anxieties and wait. Returning to the basically unhealthy relationship is insanity. Look for the sign that says “No U-Turn and take time to grieve.
Ex. There’s a reason we call them ex’s. Embrace the word ex. Hold onto it. And don’t try to change it into present or future or repeat; as in repeating the same mistake. And should you find yourself experiencing a temporary lapse in all things sane, talk to your buddies. They know you best.
Don’t try to work it out with the new flame. First of all, she does not know you inside and out and second of all she does not want to hear all about the great qualities your ex had and then how bad she treated you. Opposing views and all makes one crazy and builds insecurity right up front. Hint: if the relationship was great it would not have ended hence you would not need to go to your buddies for advice in the first cotton-picking place. Guys, get into and stay in the right relationship!
Sometimes men find themselves playing house and going through the motions of life then suddenly they look around the place (their place) and realize “Oh, she’s all moved in. Hmmm. Wonder when that happened?” And then they go shoot some hoops with the guys to relieve some of the stress. When they’re finished they come home to a clean house, clean clothes and a hot meal and think “Hmmm. This isn’t sooo bad”. I asked one of my male friends “If you didn’t ever ask her to move in, how did it happen”? His reply? “One bag at a time”.
And time marches on. There are several areas that are bad, really bad. But she loves you. Never mind she treats your family, and heaven forbid your children, with disrespect. She loves you. And the sex is great. Let’s not leave that part out.
I have a particular friend going through some turmoil/withdrawal at the moment. He has lamented to me for weeks about the reasons she’s now called ex. I’ve listened, tried to give sound advice and ask him pertinent questions that only he can answer (it’s the Out
Loud Test: If it sounds crazy when you say it out loud-here’s your sign.)
Now to be respectful and understanding she was great; just not great for him (in his very own words). Sometimes Richard and Sophia have great chemistry but the fundamentals are all wrong. If Richard leaves and meets Tammy and Sophia meets Federico, they are blissful. Who knows why that is; maybe it’s chemistry-like real scientific reasons. Maybe it’s God saying we took the wrong path and he needs us to find our way back. Again, who knows?
Listen, 2 years, 5 years, 10 years, 25 years, it doesn’t matter. When you’ve shared a significant part of your life with someone the separation is NOT easy. One of my dearest friends was married for eleven years and when her relationship ended it was devastating for her and SHE IS the one who walked out. He was no good for her.
There were pieces and parts that were good but in the end she just wasn’t happy. And it took her a long time to get past the hurt and rejection. Rejection you say, but she left him! Ahhh, yes and here’s where it gets interesting. If he had not rejected her, she would not have left. Get it? Here, let me try it this way. If we are being loved and cared for and nurtured and supported there is no reason to leave.
We leave because the rejection is too great to sit day by day and lay night by night next to someone who does not believe in us. Our greatest desire is to be appreciated. As Mary Kay Ash would always say “Everyone is walking around with an invisible sign hanging around their necks saying “Make Me Feel Important”. It became known as the MMFI rule.
Men, if your partner is not making you a better man, you know-all that you can be-, then she is not the one. And the same goes for you ladies. If the most significant person in your life is jealous, controlling, non-supportive, judgmental, selfish, non-understanding of your wants, dreams and desires or insert your favorite here, then you need to go find the one who is or is not all of those things.
When a relationship disintegrates into ashes you should sweep up the mess and bury it in a nice place in the back yard. Preferably the pesky neighbor’s yard and not your own. Revisiting the insane asylum is, well, insane.
When a relationship ends it’s kind of like death. You have a grieving process you must go through; through intimates who will get you to the other side. And on the other side are wonderful treasures like peace, passion and happiness; support, caring and nurturing; respect, loyalty and deep love. I recently told my friend Richard “You get one shot at life. There is NO reason to settle. You can have deep passionate love and you can have peace. At the same time”. Again, grieve.
Now during your grieving process and your thoughts of relationship suicide (going back) what happens if you meet someone, maybe even the one? You take it slow and you practice BLUF (bottom line up front {a former Army Ranger friend taught me that acronym and I thought it was, well, kinda hot}). Anyway, I digress. You get it all out on the line and you tell the new person where you are and if you’ve had intimate relations in the last few days or weeks. You should be prepared to let that person know or at the very least keep your boxers on.
Full disclosure in a new relationship is not always necessary but have some respect for the unsuspecting GWA and either practice BLUF (so she can make an informed decision as to continue with you at a slow pace or run at a very fast pace) or practice celibacy for awhile. Give yourself time to ready your heart, mind, soul and spirit for the great adventure that awaits you. Get comfortable in your own skin again before you go getting up in someone else’s skin…
The GWA are self-reliant, self-assured and independent. We’re not jealous of anything you have, we are proud of you for achieving it. Hell, we’ll even help you do better if that’s what you want. We’ll not complain if you want to watch the Pistons and the Lakers fight it out in the playoffs. We’ll sit by you. We may fall asleep on your chest, but be rest assured we won’t take you away from that kind of mind blowing excitement.
We’ll treat you, your friends, your family and, above all, your children with respect, love and dignity. We will not degrade you in public or private. We will be at the finish line cheering you on. And we will demand it all in return. We are kind but we are not weak. We will look at our man with love and respect and do our best to make him want to be a better man because he is with us.
If we all took a soulful inventory and did not settle there would be less divorce and more forever after.
And when, not if, you are lucky enough to find the one, hold on for dear life. You’ll be glad you did! Elton John sings one of my favorite love songs called, you guessed it, The One. There’s a verse that says “In the instant that you love someone, in the second that the hammer hits, reality runs up your spine and the pieces finally fit…and all I ever wanted was the one, like freedom feels when wild horses run…” Hello! “That’s what I’m looking for and I will not settle. How about you?

Update: The One did find me and I am holding on for dear life!

The Bachelorette

Written 14 July 2010


Ahh Ali, still has Roberto in her sights...
Thank goodness I'm almost over my bachelorette, reality TV, crack-like addiction! Just two more weeks to go. It really should be over next week but they have to do a "Men Tell All" special, blah, blah, blah. I want to know who she picked...if anyone.
From the beginning I've said Roberto. My bff, Deb, concurs. She’s addicted to those Latinos! Just the way the rrrr rolls off your tongue...plus he's muy caliente and muy guapo! That's almost enough to get you through 80 years of marriage but he's also very sweet and charming and tender and loving and hot and sexy and ...oh wait, I think I already covered that.
So the three dudes left at the beginning of Monday night's telenovella were: 1.) Roberto 2.) Frank 3.) Chris; listed in the order, I believe, matches Ali's personal order. There they are in Tahiti, romance in the water, and no sharks, save one...dunt, dunt, dunt...FRANK! NO! YES! Turns out the whiney, wimpy, self-deprecating, Frankie is in love with Nicole. Who's NICOLE? His ex. Right, me too...Only after leaving Nicole to pursue Ali did he realize that Nicole is, after all the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Poor Frank has been in such turmoil over all the feelings he has for Nicole and also Ali. But in the end he thinks it is Nicole he really, for real this time, no kidding, wants to marry. Nicole is good with that. RUN NICOLE RUN. Frank is a tortured soul, a creative genius who still lives at home and is reaching for something/one, anything/one to make him feel like a man. He needs to look within instead of impulse purchasing. But that is an Oprah show.
As the Bachelor and Bachelorette go, all crises must be filtered through Chris Harrison, the host. First Frank does go ahead and fly to Tahiti instead of ending it all in Chicago. Silly Nicole is too young to know that letting a man go who can't seem to know when to stay is a recipe for disaster. Anyway Chris was "blown away" as he often is. Poor Chris. He's gotta watch this sniveling, wimpy man and the whole time I bet he's thinking "If you were doing this to MY daughter I'd bust your lip right about NOW!" So, Frank makes the manly decision to tell Ali himself. Bravo. Fast forward to Ali arriving. They embrace and she's all chipper and Ali-like and the Frank says "Ali, we need to talk". They walk outside and sit and she stares at him a long time and he doesn't speak. Then he says he's nervous. Then finally he tells her about Nicole. She starts crying and wiping her tears away and all I can't think is "Honey! Don't pull on your eyes like that! You have no idea the long term damage you are doing that tender skin. Besides girl, you've still got two GOOD, ahem real, men here who need to see you at your best...and Frankly speaking (totally HAD to get that in, sorry, I amuse myself)...not puffy eyed over another man.
Best line of the night? Ali said "I've given up everything to be here." To which sniveling dumba$% said "I've given up everything to be here too." To which Ali, my new hero (with a little training) said "Apparently not everything." Cha-ching! Slam! *&^%#@! And then, when the wimpy, selfish, Frankie saga was almost over she failed me as a sister, she went down the rabbit hole of self-pity and pathetic behavior. She said, through tears, as many other noble women throughout history have, "I don't want to leave because I know I'm never gonna see you again." I was so hurt by this statement I didn't really hear what Frankie said but he was asking for forgiveness as all cheaters and beaters do and then, then she got up, walked around the ottoman (waaay tooooo much effort wasted on him! Here's where I scream "Get the Bit$h Books Ali! GET THE BIT$H BOOKS!) to get to him and long-embraced him bye. My life flashed before my eyes. She should have just flung herself on top of the sword for Pete's sake. Hell, at least Frank was crying.
Poor, poor Chris Harrison. He's already listened to Frank snivel and now he has to listen to Ali; talkative, chatty, crying, heart-broken, pis&ed-off Ali. At some point she tries to get him to psychoanalyze her by getting him to tell her what is wrong with her. I bet he's thinking "I don't get paid enough for this Shi!." She said "What's wrong with me? Maybe I'm too....or maybe it's....I just don't know why (which is my all time favorite whine)...and now I'm wondering if I can trust my own judgment...and...
Chris just sat there at a decent distance away and carefully rubbed her back and said NOTHING. He needs a raise.
Since this is Hollywood and they always have alternative endings I have a few in mind. Bear with me as I may actually be releasing some of my very own, carefully thought out with vengeance-and-malice-in-my-heart alternative endings...
1. When Ali meets Frank at the hut on the water in Tahiti and after a few seconds embrace says "Ali, we need to talk." She should have straightened her back bone, took a few steps back, squared her shoulders, looked him in the eye (the left one for gravity) and said "Talk." Not moved one freaking inch. Then, when he was finished slobbering all over himself said "OK." and walked away. THEN fell apart. ALONE. She gave him too much of herself. A part he did NOT deserve. He would be having nightmares right now wondering where HE went wrong and why she wasn't more devastated...blah, blah, blah. Again, my life flashing and all...
2. When Ali meets Frank at the hut on the water in Tahiti and after a few seconds embrace says "Ali, we need to talk." She should have straightened her back bone, took a few steps back, squared her shoulders, looked him in the eye (the left one for gravity) and said "Talk." When he was finished slobbering all over himself she should have said "Boys! (there's always a camera crew around and those guys are probably in love with Ali too. They would've done her bidding.) Throw his sorry a$$ in the ocean and do not fetch him out until I get back with Chris and his plane ticket home. Oh look! Shark!"
Alas, neither of these things happened but a lesson was learned nonetheless, by the audience if not by Ali. Frank was a sniveling weasel and I’m certain we’ll read about him in a few months when Nicole dumps him for still being weepy over his decision to leave Ali. What did we learn? Don’t take it personally when you run across sniveling weasels who can’t make up their minds if they love you or they don’t. If they love you they KNOW it and SHOW it! End of story.
The issue was not Ali even though she took it personally, as a blow to her ego and to her powers of judgment. No, the issue was entirely Frank’s. I gotta tell ya. I don’t know a single woman who REALLY, in her heart wants a snively man. Most of us don’t even want a sensitive man. It kind of freaks me out when I see men get too emotional. We want our men to be in charge and decisive. Deb just called and said she wants him to be Roberto! He’s a real guy who really cares. And the bonus is that he’s way easy on the eyes!!
Ladies, be confident. Buy the books, for Pete’s sake! Read and learn. Then practice on the next available man. You’ll be amazed at the difference in your relationship! He WILL be attentive and loving. If he’s not, then drop him in with Frank and the sharks!!

Rebounds Abound

Written 14 July 2010


Well, finally the issue of dating a ‘married’ person has arisen. When discussing sex, relationships and human beings this topic was bound to emerge. This article is not gender specific.
So, back to dating the married topic: By ‘married’ I do not mean living together and experiencing the All-American dream. I mean separated & not divorced or newly divorced (still married emotionally), married by paper but not emotionally yet still going through the motions, and absolutely 100% not living together. If they still have the same POB, run Forrest run!
One of my favorite lines is (my very own quote, of course) “We’ve all made mistakes and you just hope you don’t do in your 30’s what you did in your 20’s and you hope you don’t do in your 40’s what you did in your 30’s and so on.”
Marriage is one of those institutions I have not had much luck with. I called it dating with an evil twist b/c it lasted such a short amount of time. So I have no background with successful marriage. But how many people do? I’ve known a lot of people in long-term marriages (reminds me of long-term health care…) but not many who are happy. My friend Richard says that familiarity breeds contempt. I think he’s right. No matter if it’s a marriage relationship or a working relationship.
So should we be dating ‘married’ people (Remember our earlier definition of married.)? No. I’ve done it before. Ok, so shoot me. But if you shoot me you have to shoot everyone else who has done it and you’d lose most of your friends and maybe even your very own spouse, if not yourself.
Most people I know have done it before and it does not go in the direction you want it; for long. If they are not divorced, not divorced for long or still being manipulated by the spouse-it’s not a good place for you to be hanging out. There are as many reasons people divorce as there are fishing lures at Bass Pro Shop or eyeliner at Dillard’s. But none of them are your business. If you forgot how to run like Forrest and you are determined to try and beat the odds (you really should just come here and play Texas Hold ‘Em on Thursday nights instead-your odds are MUCH better) then do yourself a favor and make your partner go to therapy. DO NOT take on that role; unless you can garner some cash out of the sessions??? Damn capitalists! Oh, I digress…
For this particular article I’ve gotten some feedback from several people; both people dating the ‘married’ person and the ‘married’ people themselves. Here’s what I gleaned from all of them:
When people have been married for any length of time they know just the right buttons to push in each other. These buttons range from guilt to anger to memory lane to obligation to religion and so on. Not to mention if the spouse/children find out about the new love. Lucky you, you get to be the focus and the reason and the blah, blah, blah. Now add jealousy, self-pity and self-denial to their list of negative emotions that will swirl around YOU. No matter what the wedding vows say and no matter the intent with which they were said, when the word divorce enters the arena-all bets are off. It’s sad to see people self-destruct or do their dead-level best to destroy the other, but it happens. You should not be around. Not even for the great sex.
SOME people end their marriage well. But mostly, when people are going through a divorce they tend to push each other’s buttons. If you are in the middle of this button pushing war you will constantly be listening to negativity and playing the role of comforter, psychologist and sex partner. When the smoke clears, your partner will either go back to the ex for various reasons (which will eventually not work again and so repeats the cycle) or suddenly feel free, except for you, and begin on the journey of dismissing you. The most famous line is “I need to find myself”. Well, who wants to be with someone who doesn’t know where they are?
Think about it. If someone has been in an un-healthy relationship for over a decade and suddenly (b/c even though the freeing process has been going on for years-it feels sudden to them) find themselves divorced, how do you think they feel? Free. They feel free. Separated for years does not equal signatures in dried ink on paper. The word divorce has a sudden finality. They are free.
And you should let them be free (of you) and, more importantly, you should be free of them. Just move on. If you find yourself dating a married person, separated person or a newly divorced person, pick up your self-esteem and move on. It’s a toilet bowl of negative energy that you don’t want to get flushed down. The tidy bowl man is NOT good company. The rebound person is a real person. And if you are the next person they “date” (and I use that term very loosely in this context) your new name is ‘Rebound Person’. And the ‘Rebound Person’ is usually just for sex and healing aka sexual healing.
Marriage is a commitment of great moral character. Having a good marriage and being a good spouse is probably harder than parenting. There should be medals.
However, a handful of couples come quickly to mind when I do think of happy marriages; my publisher and his wife is one. Two of my customers are others. And I have a pair of really great friends who have been in love forever. When that happens, it’s a beautiful thing. I love being around them and watching the interaction between two people who are best friends, lovers and partners. It’s also fun to watch them spar!
I’ve never been quite sure why people do it
Written 23 June 2010



Last Monday, during a menopausal, hormone induced rage I called my doctor and told the office manager, Poor Mary, "Hey, this is Crystal Lutz and I only have THREE thyroid pills left! I need to make an appointment this week to get these pills refilled. I'm serious. These tiny little pills control my weight, i.e., my state of mind, self image, attitude, the stability of my marriage and my child's overall well being, etc." She said "ok" and forwarded me to the nurse. I told the nurse I could come in any day but Tuesday as I have a newspaper to put out on Tuesdays. She said "ok" and she'd call me back. They didn't seem as concerned and I about my critical situation. On Wednesday I realized, during a menopausal, hormone induced rage that I only had ONE pill left and NO appointment. I called my doctors office and told Poor Mary "Listen, I CALLED YOU PEOPLE ON MONDAY AND TOLD YOU THAT ... AND NOW I ONLY HAVE ONE PILL LEFT AND I'M ON MY THERE! Poor Mary said "ok" and transferred me back to the nurse. The nurse very calmly told me to go ahead and come in. I said "I AM!" When we hung up God played it all back to me in my mind and I sound precariously like a crack head. Whatever.
When I got there the staff was fine, very lackadaisical actually, but I was all a twitter (there's that crack head behavior again...) wondering if they were going to take my blood and GIVE ME MY PILLS! Or, call in the mental authorities (are crack heads paranoid) ...they just took my blood and gave me my pills. I love my doctor! I felt better and decided to get a spray tan too. Tan fat looks soooo much better than white fat!
Armor Thyroid is what I'm taking and you'd think after 3 months I would have lost the few pounds I gained before I realized...but nooooooo. I had to get on the treadmill for 40 minutes to an hour every single flipping day! Oh, the pounds just fell off...not. Then my knee started killing me and I was limping around like a...middle aged woman or something so my husband banned me from the treadmill. Humh. My husband prefers the extra few pounds over the excessive moaning, groaning and endless belly-aching. Not to mention the poor fella has to wait on me hand and foot while I prop up my injured knee. (Ok, some of the whimpering could be a dramatization but the pain IS immense.)
The night sweats came back last week then left again. I really wish they'd make up their twisted mind. Maybe they have to share their time with another middle-aged woman. Speaking of "middle-age", when and how did I go down the rabbit hole? Speaking of rabbits; Mother Nature has YET to visit me in over 3 months and I hear the best time (in the middle of your life when the last thing you want is a new born baby) to get pregnant is while going through menopause or taking thyroid medication. And BAM! Just like that! I'm 2 for 2! For the record, if I get pregnant my doctor is going to have to prescribe a lot more than thyroid meds. I wonder if Brookshire Brother's Pharmacy carries Psychotic ...I'm just sayin'.
Anyway, I'm having a hard time wrapping my mind around (anything actually) the fact that I still feel about 28 (except for the bad right knee, the night sweats, the tanking thyroid, mood swings (see, the word swing intimates fun, but no.), the endless supply of reading glasses surrounding my life-I swear they self multiply) but I'm actually 45. Really? I mean I still want to go salsa dancing. Well, in my mind I do anyway. I haven't actually gone salsa dancing in several years, but I want to. I also want to water ski and roller blade. I haven't actually gone water skiing and roller bladeing but I want to. I really do. Oh, oh, oh-I did ride in a boat last Wednesday.
I guess that’s the long and short of it these days – the mind wants to dance and the body wants to sit this one out. Is THAT what middle age is all about? I think it’s a cruel joke that we feel one way inside – that would be young – but the body is beginning to put on the brakes. I don’t think I like this sudden turn of events, so what do I do about it? Well, my bff says she’s going to fight it all the way. She’s going to keep salsa dancing until she drops – and she actually DOES dance, by the way, and she’s MUCH older than I am! Hey, I think I just dissed myself. I’m bellyachin’. She’s dancin’. Hmmmmm……
I keep hopin and wishin and prayin, that all this will just go away and I’ll wake up with the firm skin, flat belly and energy level I had just a few short months ago. I’ll be able to sleep through the night without waking up drenched in sweat. I will not longer yell at people willy nilly. Oh wait, I’ve always done that. Snicker. I’ll be able to bike and run and dance to my heart’s content. Yeah, it could happen. Why just this morning my dahling husband said "We just need to ride our bicycles. We have a great path at the country." naturally, he said it in an elated, slightly euphoric mood donated by the great cup of coffee in his hand, the early hour and the lush, leather recliner he was sitting in releasing all his pheromones at once. I just can't wait to go home tonight and load up those bikes and hit that "path". ROFLMAO!

I’m gonna get “Bark OFF” for him!
Written 23 June 2010


Apparently there's this new pill on the market for women going through men.oh.pause. Finally, a sign that men are suffering too. Oh, come on, YOU KNOW a man invented the pill. Some poor woman is out there in the universe suffering and her husband happens to be a chemist/rocket scientist and one night in a pool of sweat she awoke him (I'm not sayin' how) and lovingly said "WHY DON'T YOU INVENT SOMETHING, ANYTHING TO FIX MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE? NOOOOWWWWWWW. And don't eeeeveeen THINK about coming back to THIS bed until you have a cure for the resident evil in my body!"
So off to the lab he went. And stayed. And toiled. And viola! The fix is in! Now what I want to know is why does the pill help with our sex lives? Was that his "Oh, I'll cure you all right" aha moment in the middle of mixing and measuring? Do THEY take it too? I'm still unclear. By the way, whoever is doing the polling, cuz I know it's not Scott Rasmussen, on how many times a week couples, well you know, couple, instead of asking how many times a week do you color, they need to ask how many times a year do you color; the numbers would be higher, men would feel more confident and it'd be a lot less embarrassing (at my house).
Meanwhile back at the lab, Richard was on a roll. He fixed the sex now he just had to work on her black heart and her wicked soul. While he was toiling away he recalled other wicked women of history:
Thais, an Athenian, is said to have wanted to avenge the Persians' burning of Athens in 480 BC. She later married Alexander's general, Ptolemy, and had three children by him. The burning of Persepolis was a senseless act, one that Alexander's advisors cautioned him against but one that made her feel better therefore giving poor Alexander some relief.
Jezebel not only introduced idol worship into Israel, she got her husband to worship them along with her. She also killed Jewish priests and replaced them with priests of Baal. When her husband wanted to get his hands on a vineyard owned by one of his subjects, she counseled him to accuse the owner of blasphemy and have him stoned to death. HE should have invented this pill. After her husband's death, the new King, Jehu, ordered her thrown to her death from a high tower. As the Prophet Elijah had predicted, dogs ate all of her body except her skull, feet and hands.
In about 1479 BC, this Egyptian queen, the widow of Pharaoh Tuthmosis II, became regent for her infant stepson, Tuthmosis III. Six years later she usurped his throne and had herself declared Pharaoh. She also engaged in a scandalous affair with a commoner named Senemut. She didn't need the pill. Yes, Hatshepsut is sometimes touted by feminists as the "first great woman in history," There is really very little to admire about this woman. So say all the men. She did build some magnificent monuments and extended Egypt's trade routes but she also allowed Egypt's military power to decline. When Thutmosis became king he had her monuments systematically destroyed. This could be attributed to his personal animosity, but no future ruler ever acknowledged her reign to be legitimate and she is not included in any of the ancient "King lists." Jealous bas*^$#s. One thing that is certain is that Thutmosis III was a much more important and successful ruler than she was. Whatever.

The wife of the Emperor Claudius is remembered as one o f the wickedest women in the history of the roman Empire - quite a distinction! She was also the mother of Claudius' son, Brittanicus. She was executed in 48 AD. Her first name was Valeria. Despite Valeria Messalina's aristocratic background she was NO lady. Her affairs were innumerable. During Claudius' absence from Rome she actually went through a marriage ceremony with one of her lovers, Caius Silius and plotted to kill Claudius and place him on the Imperial throne. The plot was foiled and Messalina was executed. Now THIS is the woman who should be the face of feminism! Somebody gave HER a pill...
Religious Menopausal Women: Born in 1480, this notorious poisoner was the daughter of Pope Alexander VI. She was rumored to have had unnatural relations with both her father and her brother, Ceasar. Both her second husband, Alfonso of Aragon and her lover Ercole Strozzi, were violently murdered. Some historians have tried to reform Lucerezia's image, insisting that 1) she didn't kill anyone and 2) even if she did her brother and father made her do it. I blame it on men. oh. puase. Anyway, a lot of peple who dined with her died shortly thereafter. Hmmmm. she is said to have worn a ring with a secret compartment containing poison; some fashions should never go away.
We'll rap up men.oh.pausal. women with Queen Mary I. She got her jollies by burning Protestants at the stake (over 200). She was also prepared to turn her kingdom over to the Spanish. She was the most awful daughter of Henry VIII (who was also really awful) and Katherine of Aragon (who first bed Henry's brother but he died so she pretended she was a virgin so she could still live a life of royalty and luxury). She was known as Bloody Mary and for good reason. She was also neurotic and quite possibly insane. Hey, I resemble that remark! Anyway I say she was just men.oh.pausal and historians need to give her a break.
But I digress. Richard's trip down history lane apparently incited him to make the most wonderful drug for men.oh.pausal women. It claims to cure mood swings, MAN.iacal thoughts of murder, thoughts of wild sx with anyone other than your husband, (except for maybe Roberto-see Bachelorette article) thoughts of overtaking world leaders and governments, night sweats, loud noises in your sleep and best of all it claims to give us all a sex drive. It still boggles my mind that a man would come on the radio to talk to MEN.OH.PAUSE.AL, half crazed, out of our minds with hormonal imbalance, women and the first thing out of his mouth is that he's going to make us wan to...I wonder if he's still breathing..I'm just sayin'

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

The Bachelorette

Written 09 June 2010


Ali, unlike her predecessor bachelorette, made a great decision Monday night and sent crazy man Craig M. packing! Mostly on the advice of Jonathan. Oh, did you all know that our very own Channel 2 (former) weatherman in Houston, TX, Jonathan Novack, is on the Bachelorette? It's wild. But he certainly is not.
Last night he was terrified to go scantily clad into the eye of the public and instead of coming out of the dressing room with his Speedo (only) on he managed to find a rubber duckie floatie thingie...you just can't make up this crap. And I can't pull myself away from it either. It's wicked addictive!
So instead of jumping in with both feet he jumped in with his rubber duckie. But all apparently was not well even with the rubber duckie security floatie thingie. Later, when they were going to produce a movie video for Bare Naked Ladies, he was supposed to kiss Ali. OMG this guy was all a twitter b/c it was their first kiss and he had to do in front of people and wah, wah, wah. It didn't script him to shove his tongue down her throat, just kiss her. Save your good stuff for later man.
Jonathan was so nervous he actually cried and the guys actually saw it and...well it was like sharks smelling blood. It was all over, emotionally, for poor gloomy weatherman until Ali, like a ray of sunshine, saved his day, made him the man to be and laid a big one on him. Take that ya big bullies!
At the end of the night he did get the coveted final rose of the night but I'm sure it was more for having her back than having one of his own.
Scarlett and Melanie's prediction for the winner is a hands down, Roberto. He's Latin She's not. (We could just stop there, because when we say Latin we mean very, very Latin and all that that entails. If you don't know what that entails you should go get you a Latin man and let him show you. Words cannot describe.) ANYWAY, he speaks five languages. She doesn't. He's well traveled. She's not. He's dark and mysterious. She's not. He gave her a salsa lesson. (We could stop there. Again.) She did very well. His hands are all over her and vice versa. He's "very, very handsome". She's "very beautiful". He is the only one that makes her blush and makes her all giddy. She is an absolute babbling idiot around him and she is absolutely putty in his hands and I do believe vice versa.
They are polar opposites attracting all the energy in the room around just the two of them. It's like the black hole of lust. There's no satisfying it's hunger. They will be building shrines unto themselves and their love tomorrow. Something like "Hey, did you know he's already married-to another man" will be the only way (and I'm not certain even THAT could stop HER) these two don't end up coloring waaayyyy, waaaaayyyy outside the lines, marring, ridding off on his white horse (cuz all Latin men have one) into the sunset to his villa in the woods (that's a tie in to Sex in the Woods...get it?) where they will make wild passionate love for centuries to come...Her career will be a thing of the past. All she will need is him and his love.
And for the rest of the men of the Bachelorette Listen up: This is game over. Your salvation for having put your lives on hold is...Roberto. Yes, I know, he's stealing Ali away like a Cleopatra captured the heart and mind of Caesar but you can learn from him. Latin men go to the School for the performing Arts - of Love. Sexuality pours from their pores and they are Mother Natures' favorites. Their skin is purrfect, their hair is purrfect, their language is purrfect...even the Italian have nothing on the Latin-men and women alike.
So Ali, if you're reading this, you can tell us. We'll keep your secret. As if it is one after last night's show.

To Kill A Squirrel

Written 24 May 2012


Seriously. The whole menopause (Men. Oh! Pause before you speak) thing is just out of control. And so am I. And so are my hormones. I blame EVERYTHING on my hormones now. It's really kind of liberating. You can find me most anywhere these days saying "My hormones did it."
The night sweats (NS) are gone. However, I have a sneaking suspicion they'll be back. They were too mild some of my (used-2-b) friends said. So, my luck they're just on hiatus. Visiting some other poor unsuspecting 40something year old woman with that crazed-what-the-hedoublel-is-happening-TO-ME look in her otherwise normal eyes.
That's the good news. The bad news is that crying has replaced sweating. Maybe that's why NS left. Surely there's not enough water even in a killer whale's body to produce all that it takes to support night sweats AND all the sobbing I am doing. And doing. And doing.
Dancing with the stars was on the other night and I was sitting in the recliner doing the ugly (chest heaving, snot producing) cry when my husband walked in (on me). Some things are private. So husband says, in a very scared and concerned tone, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" "Derek and Nicole just did the most beautiful tango I haahaavvve eeeevv veeerrr r seeeenn."
Mr. Smarty pants said "ARE YOU SERIOUS?" The amazing thing is that he's still alive. The spinning head did scare him a little though. As if a beautifully choreographed, well executed tango is not something to cry over. Men. I really have yet to figure them out. NO appreciation for the arts.
Attention to hairdressers around the globe: Menopause is serious and should be considered a narcotic in case your otherwise normal customer walks in and says "Chop it off". I look like a little boy. And when I cry I look like a sad little boy. And MY hairdresser has been was my friend for 45 years! (Shameless plug for Cynthia Thibodeaux @ Studio 3 on University Blvd. Houston, TX)
Attention to women around the globe going through menopause: If you hairdresser is ALSO going through menopause change hairdressers. Cuz she WILL chop it off! Oh, she just can't WAIT to chop it off. Anything will do but since you're offering up your hair, her husband is safe for yet another night. Don't sacrifice yourself this way. You torture your family and let her torture hers.
Not that the haircut isn't adorable. It is. But she should have stopped at the first hair cut she gave me. It was cute. It was already blow dried and fixed. Then I said "Cut it shorter." And she did. So there. But men typically like long hair. And my husband falls in that category. I cry just thinking about him not liking it.
And on top of EVERYTHING mother nature STILL hasn't visited me and everyone keeps dangling the dead rabbit theory in front of me. I'll tell you about a dead rabbit. Or was that a squirrel? Anyway, it ran out in front of me the other day while Air Supply was singing "All out of love" and well, yes, I was crying and things were blurry but I thought maybe I'd missed him by some small animal miracle but the bump, the bump is always bad news. "My hormones did it."
Then I skinned it , boiled it, fed it to the family and called it chicken. "My hormones did it."
Written 03 May 2010


The Weekend was like any other, normal, frantic, WTH have I gotten myself into, kind of weekend.

First, my girlfriend came up for the weekend from Friendswood. Second she brought her grand-daughter; whom she is raising. Third, she needed a mommy’s night out and just so happened she didn’t want to have it with me OR the child. Selfish bi*c&.

So my crackhead husband decided in a hot flash that she should go let loose and we would watch the (terrible) two year old.

Now, don’t get me wrong, the baby is ADORABLE. But she’s two. They are all adorable at two; in someone else’s home. So, Girlfriend went off for the evening and my new hubby and I went home with child. I’ve never been with child before and it was strange having one to take care of that could already say “NO”! That argument did not go well. I lost EVERY time.

Just getting out of the restaurant into the vehicle took 12 hours. OMG how does Girlfriend not have a hump back? I think diaper bags need to be measured just like carry-on luggage...before you throw this over your shoulder make sure it fits in this box... And why do they call it a diaper bag? It had diapers, ointments that I cannot even pronounce, pills (???), vodka... I think we should re-name the diaper bag to “mommy’s little helper” bag. I’m just sayin’.

Anyhoo, my husband also decided the baby should sleep with us. Well he never said anything about how I was going to GET sleep. The two of them slept fine - until he stole her pillow and I had to give her mine so the neighbors wouldn’t think we were tortuing a pig in our house.
Even after all that she wouldn’t let me have ANY room. There was a good mile and a half between Baby and hubby and I hugged the edge all night. Not like in college either. I never thought I’d long for those days. Ever.

But wait there’s more...since I wasn’t sleeping I noticed the clock a lot and the sweat, too. Whose sweat was that anyway? I didn't think it was caused by my hot flashes but then again I may have had a relapse and gone back into denial. So maybe babies sweat a lot??? Do they? In any case, the pillows were soaked and so were the sheets. Since I don’t know whether or not babies sweat I couldn’t say if my hot flashes were kicking in or not. Ah, the high one gets from denial. It’s like being wrapped in a cashmere blanket on a cold, frosty, oh wait, that’s beer… I digress..Anyway, I didn’t know if it was hot flashes or if I was extra super hormonal with a small child in bed???

And how does one bottle of milk produce so much...poo? That diaper must have weighed as much as a bowling ball. Speaking of bowling balls...

When it came time to change that weighty diaper I couldn’t even bring myself to lay her on the couch for fear of smashing all that stuff together so I changed her standing up on the living room floor. Stop. Visualize and just LOL here. Everythime some new poo in the shape of bowling balls fell on the floor, Baby giggled. I yelled for hubby and he said he was in the middle of trying to figure out how to save Louisiana, Florida, Mississippi and the entire fishing industry. Whatever. Sounds like SOMEBODY got a good night's sleep!!

Anyway, after all the balls dropped and my friend Steve, who is a rocket scientist (for real) helped me figure out which ointment to put on Baby, we tried to watch television. Listen, I don’t care how cute you are Baby there’s only so much baby talk I can handle. My husband and I are still speaking it. You know how it goes. It’s not sexy either. There’s still a mile and a half between us…How long do the side-affects last? My friend, Melanie, says that the side effects of having a small child in the home last until there's NOT a small child in the home. I would imagine that Ethel Kennedy (12 kids) was a blithering idiot by the time the last one hit puberty! One's enough for me. I'll take my six year old any day who, by the way, seems very grown up all of a sudden. Funny how that works?!

When Girlfriend called next morning and said she was ready for us to save her from the young friends she had made we gathered up the universe and headed to fetch granny. And Granny shouldn’t be acting out anyway. Listen, it was Girlfriend yesterday. Today, it’s Granny. I don’t like her as much today as I did yesterday and she needs to understand that Grannies do not go out. Ever. They drink expensive wine with their girlfriends and hire baby sitters. And the two shall never become one.

While the youthful children and granny told me about their adventures Baby was playing with the other children and tried to get on a play thingy with a slide. Since we were near the water Granny and I were fretting and worrying about Baby but youthful mommy had the perfect solution: She put a life jacket on Baby and shoved some coffee and Bailey’s at us. God really knew what he was doing when he made it possible for the young to bear children and possible for the children to never remember a thing before the age of 5.

At some point granny and I could no longer stand the eminent danger the water posed and we took Baby away from the danger zone most parents call a play ground. Baby screamed so loud the Game Warden showed up. But when Baby took her tongue, ran it across her upper lip and scooped up all the snot…everything just faded to black…I’m still gagging.

Oh of course there were amazing moments. Ones without poo or snot. And when she put hubby’s boots on and realized she couldn’t move so she just stood there looking at us - in all her glory, giggling-I understood how parents fall in love with their kids. Precious. Simply precious.

The Joy of Recycling

Written 7 April 2010

You know, I’m all for recycling. Not that I practice it really, but it sure sounds like a good idea. So noble and look at me I’m doing something for the planet and all that. Turn in all your old stuff and they (I always wonder who “they” are, don’t you?) tear it apart, crush it up, melt it down and then put it back into the manufacturing pipeline to make it into something new and improved. Hopefully. How cool is THAT?!
Don’t you wish you could do that with other things? Don’t you wish you could do that with men? You heard me right. Unlike my newly married, wonderful bff who usually writes this column – I am single. Without significant other. Footloose and fancy free. Unaccountable to anyone but my boss and my landlord. And this week to the IRS. How could life get any better. Right? Well, kinda…
I’ve been blessed (ok, we’re going to CALL it blessed anyway, I’m trying to be proactive here) in my life to have been a bride more than once. More than twice, actually. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time so no judging, okay? At least I didn’t try to hold on to a bad thing just to have someone in my life. Now THAT would have been pathetic! Recycling at its worst!
Last summer I suffered a broken engagement which, as it turns out, was absolutely the right thing and thank the good Lord it happened before we actually did the paperwork. We’re even still friendly with each other. Saved by the bell. No harm, no foul. At least that’s what my head says, but on rare occasions my heart kind of creeps back to the bad place and the weirdest things can set it off. Recycling of the oddest, most unwelcome kind.
The latest thing is this - my ex, Richard is in Spain even as we speak, vacationing with a woman he hardly knows. He actually spent enough money to fly half way around the world to see a woman he met for two days. Help me out here. Does this make sense to anyone? ANYone out there? Hello? Sorry. I digress.
I can’t quite figure out why this should bother me because I thought I was all OVER that. And I am really. 99.9999% of the time. I would not, repeat NOT, ever be part of a couple with him ever again (did I say ever?). So why do I feel strangely angry that he’s taking that trip with someone else? It makes me feel slightly stupid and very girly.
So naturally I think of recycling. Doesn’t everyone at a time like this? I’d like to be able to take all the best parts of all my exes and put them all into one guy. Wouldn’t that be fun? Think of the possibilities. Staggering actually, because I have been fortunate enough to have known some pretty interesting men. They’ve had fatal flaws (OK, I’m not perfect either, but we’re talking about the men now so chill.) but some pretty great qualities, too.
If we could order a guy like we can order a custom suit then we could have the ideal man, guaranteed to be funny and faithful, employed and empathetic, learned and loyal. We could, say, take Richard’s skills, and Tim’s great arms, Roger’s sense of humor, Charlie’s attention to romance, Chris’s boyish enthusiasm for all things me, Marc’s testosterone level, Brad’s ability to fix ANYthing and Harry’s ability to dance.
[A little aside here from THE Sweet Potato Queen, Jill Connor Browne: You always need 5 men in your life. The guy to talk to. The guy who will fix things. The guy who buys you stuff. The guy to have great “romance” with. And the guy to dance with. The good news is - they can all be gay except one. Now THAT’s funny!]
It would be easy. Those of us who like to dance could pick a great dance partner. Intellectuals would pick the guy who had loads of smarts. The outdoorsy girls would get the athletes and backpackers. The high maintenance chicks would get the rich. Actually, all of us would like to have that but it’s not always tops on the list.
Personally, I just want one guy who finds me irresistible. One guy who can remain faithful. One guy who likes to laugh and play as much as I do. One guy willing to learn how to dance with me. One guy who is my safe place to fall (my favorite Dr. Phil-ism).
One guy who will let me take care of him as much as I want him to take care of me.
Alas, there is no such service and no such man. If there were then he could do the same thing with us and make an ideal woman according to HIS specs. None of us, male or female are perfect. Never will be. The best we can hope for is to find someone who is perfect for US even with their flaws – and ours.
Some things are negotiable – even dancing. Others are not – like loyalty and fidelity. If he can’t remain faithful then it doesn’t matter how much money he has or how well he dances. That sense of humor is on MY Must List but some women might not mind a guy who doesn’t smile much. I also want someone I can actually have an intelligent conversation with but Forrest Gump certainly had HIS good qualities, didn’t he?
Everyone brings their own brand of relationship style to the table so maybe the moral of the story is that I should just concentrate on being the best ME I can and appreciate the guys for what they bring to the relationship, not what they don’t and maybe they’ll do the same for me.

The Joys of Night Sweats and Hot Flashes...

Written 07 April 2010


Rasmussen really needs a poll for ranking the degree of night sweats as it pertains to being stranded in the Mojave desert with only Tobasco to drink. In the beginning I knew the aliens had invaded. Now I just wonder if my air conditioner isn't working properly 32 times per evening. Can a person really have THIS many hot flashes???

According to one woman I polled; because I poll every poor unsuspecting woman that comes into my restaurant about MY hot flashes; you can have up to 50 hot flashes per day! Her husband said they were going through menopause naturally. He said it just as I took a sip (gulp) of wine. I had to get up from the table to keep from spewing my drink in his face. No need wasting good wine. "THEY"? "Naturally"? Who's he trying to fool? Is he actually trying to use her pain and suffering as his very own atonement. Sorry buddy, NOT how it works. God is STILL going to take care of you in his own special little way.

The dutiful wife just smiled and nodded. Why? Because she's on drugs. He's the idiot. Oh, and he was actually PROUD that "they" were going through this "naturally", "together". I guess they went through natural child birth together too. I'm still laughing. By "together" does he mean he hasn't filed for divorce and moved out? Does he mean that she has allowed him to live yet another day? I bet if we took a close look we could find HIS medication for coping with their menopause, naturally, together. I'm still laughing.

The other night I was sitting in the leather recliner-alone. Why? Because I WAS sitting on the corduroy sofa alone - until my daughter wanted to lay next to me. Well, her hair was wet so that was cooling me off and so far I didn't mind. Then dad started having abandonment issues and joined us. Then my daughters hair dried and I was hot. So I got up and moved to the recliner. Alone. It wasn't long before I had yet another hot flash. Off goes the lap blanked and on goes the moaning. My darling, brand new out of the box, husband actually let the following thought escape in an audible tone past his lips "Man, I don't want to hear it anymore. I'm tired of hearing about EVERY hot flash".

Wait. Soak that in.

Now, imagine a high strung woman's response. Now, imagine a high strung, very hot, caught in the Mojave desert with only Tobasco to drink, menopausal woman's response. You can all send a cash donation instead of flowers. He won't be sayin that again. Ever. Oh, he may think it but from now on his little mind will not allow him to utter the words audibly. Ever. Again. I just know it.

And the good thing is that our child learned a really great lesson at a young age. Children are to be seen and not heard and during a hot flash so are daddy's.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Faith, Hope & Love

Written 24 March 2010

…“And the greatest of these is love”

Really? Then why aren’t more people doing it? You know, demonstrating love. Now, when I say “people” I mean couples. This is a relationship column you understand. There is not a week that goes by that I do not either, a. hear about or, b. see for myself, couples destroying each other or one mate trying to destroy the other.

Destruction comes in many forms: It’s the way you comment on your partner’s weight, hair, eyes, wrinkles, career, etc. The list is endless. And as my mother always said “Sometimes it’s not what you say but, the way you say it”. Remember the little rhyme we all learned in grade school “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me”? Not true. They need to quit teaching it. Healing from someone throwing a stick at us is far easier than healing from the insulting, humiliating, non-loving word.

Now just b/c someone is not physically abusive does not mean that they aren’t abusive; emotional abuse is just as bad. ALL couples argue. Choose your words carefully. Once they are out there… You may forget what you say but I can promise you the person on the receiving end does not forget. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again “You are either lifting someone up or you are tearing them down.” Partners are supposed to - actually they VOW to - lift each other up and to love each other in good times and bad. The character of a person is measured in how they behave in bad times not when everything is smooth sailing.

If you find yourself in a situation where your partner is suddenly behaving differently than normal you may want to take a good long look at the relationship. If there is a change in the way they look at you, touch you, speak to you or the way they treat you in general, beware: this is a sign of indifference and maybe even an affair. Do your best to isolate the problem and solve it. However, if your mate continues being abusive or unfaithful, there comes a time when the love you once felt is destroyed and the safest thing (for your emotional, physical and spiritual sanity) to do is to remove yourself from the abusive situation.

When the respect and trust are gone it’s an uphill battle to repair the relationship. But, the good news is that it is repairable; with God all things are possible. However, each person must re-evaluate their priorities and your priority in a relationship is your mate. Whether you are dating or married. Your priority is not your children or your job; God first, family second and career third. If you do what is morally right, your family and your career will take care of themselves. No one ever said on their death bed “Gee, I wish I would have spent more time at the office.”

Our job in a relationship is to make the other person feel loved, respected, supported, trusted and most of all secure. When someone feels all of these things from someone they love and care about, the world is theirs to conquer; women as well as men.

It breaks my heart to hear about good people being mistreated by the one they love. Additionally, it is also hard to hear how hard people try to save a sinking ship. My cousin’s marriage counselor once said “Sometimes, there is just too much water under the bridge.” Don’t you think that’s true? Some things are worth holding onto and some things are worth letting go of. You just have to know when to let go. You cannot hang onto the ladder when it is being pulled under by the weight of the ship or you go down into the abyss with it. You cannot hang on at the detriment of your soul and your sanity when the other person in the relationship refuses to be part of a Godly relationship – one based on God and love, not on selfish desires.

And if you are the one doing the abusing, why not at least be considerate enough to let the other person go? God gave each of us free will. We CANNOT control what another person does. Sometimes we stay b/c what they say is what we want to hear. But what are they doing? It’s the actions not the words we must take heed to. Love is an action. If someone loves you, you know it. If they don’t you know that too. You may not want to admit it, but you know it.

Years ago I witnessed my friend’s husband die of a heart attack right I front of us. Theirs was a holy, loving, patient, passionate relationship. She was so angry and mad at him for leaving her that she finally sought counseling. She said she had never been so angry. During her healing process her therapist said that this was actually easier than being that much in love and them leaving you (an affair or just ending the relationship). Because then they choose to leave you and that is a personal rejection which is harder to absorb than death; not that either are easy. Just some food for thought…

Life is a gift to us from God. What we do with our life is our gift back to Him.

Relationships are difficult at best. Two people living in one house. Two totally separate states of emotions and thought processes. And at a later stage in life you have a lot of old baggage you are bringing into a new relationship. There are a lot of one liners I can throw in here; “Seek first to understand and then to be understood”, “Be still and know that I am God”, “Seek ye first the kingdom of Heaven”, “Rome wasn’t built in a day”, “To know love is to show love”, etc. But it all boils down to love doesn’t it? The Bible says “Love thy neighbor”. My pastor says that your neighbor is whoever is right next to you. I try my best to apply that analogy. Do I always succeed? No. But I try and I also try to grasp when I’m not trying hard enough. It takes a lot of will power and a lot of breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. It takes faith.

Whenever I’m around a couple who is in love and demonstrating love, I want what they have. Don’t you? Then do everything in your power to obtain it; pray, meditate, love, forgive, forget, remind yourself of something, leave, stay, whatever it is you need to do-just do it. But find love and hang on to love. Bitterness, anger, jealousy, hatred, etc. all come from somewhere but, it is not from God and it is not from a place of love.

Similar to our freedom, love is one of those emotions we human beings cannot live without. We crave love like we crave our favorite dessert when we’re on a diet. And if you are in a healthy partnership, you feel free and you feel loved but moreover you want the other person to feel free and to feel loved.

I’ve been loved before and I know what it feels like. Do you? If so, remember that feeling and go find The One who is worthy of your love and who desires to give it right back to you.

Faith, hope and love. And, the greatest of these is love.

To Tame a Tiger...or NOT!

Written 24 February 2010

Oh my! Did YOUR world stop b/c Tiger Woods gave a press conference? I sure hope not. It was a great disappointment. Especially if you're the kind of person who WOULD drop everything and listen in. You know, listen in on what he was really doing the past few years, who he was really doing it with and how many times he did it and so on.

No, he didn't give us any of that. He just stood there in a robotic state and took full responsibility for his actions. Dah! What does that mean anyway? Of course he takes full responsibility. I don't recall anyone coming forth admitting that they forced him...Andrew is busy.

Oh, and the best part was when he scolded us, the media, for hounding Elin. News flash son, no one would be hounding Elin if you hadn't been hounding a dozen other women around the globe. It's all very chivalrous, Tiger, to bring your wife unbearable grief and then protect her from the bad guys. And yes, we want the details. This is America. We invented titillating, scandalous tabloids and we invented you too. Play by the rules or get burned. You gotta take the good w/the bad there buddy ole pal.

The other notable thing Tiger said was "There has never been an episode of domestic violence in our marriage. Ever." Well I guess that depends on what your definition of "is" is.

Tiger's harem of girlfriends feel betrayed and deceived b/c he didn't mention them or apologize to them for what "he put them through". Ok. I could barely write that I was laughing so hard. The sheer thought of THEM feeling betrayed is mind bending. I'm pretty sure Elin is the one and only claimant of the holy grail of betrayal here.

The Mistresses: Two of them were actually interviewed on some titillating, scandalous tabloid show; there's clearly enough money and self-importance to go around.
Jamie Grubbs said "If I was Elin I would have just rolled my eyes and walked away". Of course you would have. You're a twit. "If I were Elin I would have wanted a public I love you and I'm willing to sacrifice everything to have what I have with her because I love her". Of course you would b/c you're a twit who clearly reads romance novels.
Jamie also went on to say "He spent three years of his life lying and deceiving to these women, to me, to these women he supposedly cared about. To me." I told my readers when this story first broke that there was more to this story than met the eye.

Donald Trump had great advice for Tiger. He said Tiger should just let Elin go b/c there's too much pain to get over (I concur). Donald said that every time he's not accounted for she will go into a frenzy (I concur). Donald said Tiger should just get a divorce, be a great golfer and be the playboy he wants to be (I concur).

It's rare that a Tiger changes his stripes.

Menopause; It Could Happen to You...

Written 10 February 2010

...EVEN IF you are a man! Just go back to Junior High English. Ever heard of the INDIRECT object? Yes, menopause could happen to you directly or INDIRECTLY! When you see it happening and you are not the one it's happening to, keep your mouth shut and step away from the direct object. Put all sharp and blunt, heavy objects away.

SO, there I was in my 20's minding my own business and others' too, when my thirties jumped out at me. Happy to have made it through the acid-trip-like adventure of my 20's I embraced my 30's with a vengeance. So, there I was learning to mind my own business in a land far, far away when my 40's showed up in an explosion of shrapnel and ear-piercing noises. Wait. Those were RPG’s! Anyhooo, life was so full of explosions and heat and young men that I barely noticed the earth shift; just a little shift, but a shift none-the-less.

Currently, I am sneaking up on 45. I don't how to define "I" anymore. The person typing this certainly isn't sneaking up on 45 but somewhere in my knees something is definitely sneaking up on something painful. Maybe that's 45?

When the first tremor hit...I was watching some mind altering television show like Grey's Anatomy or something when I needed to channel surf over to Desperate Housewives (I have goals). As usual I picked up the remote but for some reason known only to the mean gods of hahahahahaha you're getting old; the numbers/letters were blurry.

Inconceivably, I held out the remote and was able to see clearly. Only a couple of nights later I was spending the night with a girlfriend. She was cleaning her face and I was getting ready to watch the news or something when I had an out-of-body-experience. It was like dejavue. It was the whole "why are the letters/numbers so blurry” experience all over again. True to a tragic event I screamed like the girl in the B movies being chased by the blob! Deborah ran out of the bathroom with night cream dripping from her chin to save me with her cotton swab and all she saw was a helpless, frantic woman holding a remote control - close, far, close, far screaming every time it got "far" (b/c it was so much CLEARER!) This could also be Karma for having cheaters on hand for all my “old” customers and snickering EVERY time I hand them out! Or maybe not.

One day I was again, minding my own business, driving along with the top down singing really loud to Rhiana, when I was instantly struck with that hot, flush feeling I got in my 30's when a cute guy walked by or when I put that burn your buns dark tanning lotion on right before I went into the tanning bed for half an hour.
Whew, where did that come from?! I looked in my rear view mirror for the devil cuz I was sure he had finally caught up with me for my bad ways in my 20's. I turned side to side looking for him to be in a motorcycle with a helper in the side car and in a "flash" the heat and my overwhelming I-need-Prozac-paranoia, was gone.

And just two months ago my Aunt Flo forgot to visit. Look, when you've waited on your aunt your whole life and she always shows up then one day she doesn't show up what would YOU do? Me? Well, I bought 8 pregnancy tests and waited till I was about to puke from nerves and my whole staff was going to quit to take them.

Negative? WHAT? Look, my aunt is over two weeks late. Hmm. Well, finally she showed up but is now officially three weeks late AGAIN. Lucky for me I still have 5 pregnancy tests left. Yes, that means I took THREE last time. You can never be tooooo careful about these things.
Additionally over the last several months I’ve noticed black hairs in places no one ever told black hairs were supposed to be. Why are all the women in my family who are older than me such bit*he$? Shouldn’t you pass along pertinent information regarding getting older to your young? Your friends? Your siblings? What the heck? It’s so NOT romantic for a man whom you are trying to be romantic with to say, with a contorted facial expression, “OMG! Is that a black hair”? Talk about kill joy!

As a pre-emptive strike to real therapy, I scheduled an urgent conference call with my best friend Jasmine (while having a hot flash in front of the paint man at Home Depot) who is older and oh so much wiser about such things. Getting older apparently does lots of weird things to your body. Without your permission.

Anyway, after laughing hysterically and saying, "Welcome to the club, honey!" she shared her own experiences with little memory lapses, soaked-with-sweat bed sheets and outbursts of temper which were totally foreign to her. One of her relatives, Alexa, is currently going through some of the same things and as a matter of fact is about the same age as I am. Whoever “I” is these days…

We all understand that these things are part of the life process, but Geez Louise, we wish we'd had more warning. I guess it's one of those things that - until you go through it yourself - you just can't quite describe it to others but you sure as heck should try. I now have a whole new understanding of the word “sisterhood”.