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When Cliches Come Home to Roost

 

"Damaged people are dangerous because they know they can survive."
“Damaged people are dangerous because they know they can survive.”

After a bottle and a half of wine, and various and sundry acts of debauchery, a kazillion clichés came home to roost tonight;

Sex is a powerful drug. Be careful what you wish for. Thank ‘god’ for unanswered prayers. Only the good die young. Never mix business with pleasure. A young stud is better than an old cow. Ok, that might not be a cliché. I just made it up, but I think it has a ring to it.

Like the finest of wine, I have mellowed with age. Don’t get me wrong darlings, I still like my men young, virile, with a twist of kink and bad-assery. I still enjoy sensual pleasures that don’t involve linen table service or early-bird rates, if you know what I mean.

But I have, indeed mellowed.

Having had a terrible relationship experience a few years back with a man who makes women dry-heave at the thought of being near a man, I left it well jaded, and feeling rather depleted. Depleted as in; I could care less if another man ever touched me again.

Much to my delight and yours, I’m sure, I have made a hearty recovery and am back in the saddle of all things delightfully-of-the-man-flesh. Miracles do happen darlings. Do not despair. To despair is to turn your back on the goddess who slumbers deep inside your warm, wiggly bits.

But I digress. Back to the clichés. Back to tonight. Back to what I started to tell you in the first place.

Even though I’ve got Ms. Mojo back, it is with a much more mellow demeanor. Instead of being reactive, I’m able to observe my thoughts, and well, what goes on in my head is entertaining as hell.

All of the things that I wanted in the past have flown out the window. What I thought I knew for sure about myself and relationships has died a rather unremarkable death.

Most of us, including my wonderful self, love to live in a black and white world. It’s easy; Right and wrong. Bad and good. Should and shouldn’t.

But it’s never really that easy is it? Life is lived most fully in the grey areas that we struggle so hard to escape.

Tonight, as the candles flickered their last pale light, and the wine glasses stood empty and at attention, I lolled in the soft sheets listening to my favourite songs, much to the chagrin of my lover.

Him: “Aren’t you going to get up and lock the door?”

Moi: “No.”

Him: “I’m not comfortable with that. What if there’s some weirdo out there?”

Moi: “If he looks interesting, send him in.”….and that was the end of the evening’s adult events.

Nothing is for certain.  All of the clichés anyone has ever told me about life and relationships flitted through my head, one contradicting the next. I observed them rise and sputter like falling stars.

Tonight I was just thankful to enjoy the moments of delight that came my way; a good meal, a thorough and proper lover, one of my favourite bottles of wine and a deep feeling of being completely sated.

When that feeling fades darlings, as I know it will, there’s always a bourbon night with Mr. C. Rush to make it all better.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Easy Like Sunday Mid-Morning

"Just because I'm awake at 6am, does not mean I'm ready to go and do things." ~ASL~
“Just because I’m awake at 6am, does not mean I’m ready to go and do things.”
~ASL~

“Not a morning person”, does not even begin to describe me.

Nope. My mornings start early, and as soon as my alarm goes off (not my eyes open, well, because they open about 20 minutes later), I run a sequence of my day through my head. After that, I think about what I’ll wear, and after that, I press the snooze button a couple more times. Just to make sure it works.

Don’t worry my lovelies, I get my gratituding in before I drift of to sleep.

My days are non-stop, and can run into the wee hours of the morning. Alas, my alarm clock is a cruel master, and I must, no matter how late I stayed up working on a presentation or meeting material, get my sorry petunia out of bed and carry on the next day.

A Twitter-Pal recently asked; What’s your favourite part about waking up early on the weekend?

First of all, early usually involves work or some ‘have to’ activity. So, waking up early for me (without alarm clock or agenda) means getting out of bed and staying out of bed before 10am or, getting out of bed and achieving one cup of coffee before my teenager wanders out of his room.

On this Sunday morning, I offer you a list of things that I love about waking up early on the weekend (using my definition of early)

1) Opening my window so I can feel the cool morning breeze, and listen to the rain (like this morning).

2) Not rushing my morning coffee… x2.

3) Catching up with the social media my friends post.

4) Reading in bed.

5) Listening  jazz music while I make breakfast.

6) Crawling back under the covers and being fully awake and aware of how cozy it is at home.

 

I hope you had a wonderful weekend to wake up at your leisure. Wishing you sweet daydreams…XO

 

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Remembering Your Roots

rememberyourrootsYears ago, an uncle gave me a painting, and on the back of the frame he wrote, “Always remember your roots”.

Sounds sweet doesn’t it?

But it wasn’t. He was, and likely still is a man full of hatred and fear. His message carried the sinister connotation of not letting yourself forget the shame you came from.

Remembering your roots should be about joy, triumph, and a legacy that leaves you proud and happy to have the roots you do.

Almost 20 years ago, I trimmed out the rotting, diseased roots, and kept the good ones. Someone sent me an email today  and referred to their stubborn Irish relatives and the ‘loud-mouth soup’ they needed in order to engage in meaningful conversation.

My stubborn Irish relatives are the roots I tend. We’re crazy, straight up, would give you the shirt off our backs and do anything for you. Unless.

Unless you mistreat us. In other words, the golden rule rules. If you forget that, you can forget it. As in, don’t even look at us.

Sometimes a quick trip to reconnect is the balm I need to inspire myself to live more fully. In a world seemingly surrounded by people with ulterior motives, whose actions contradict their words, it’s nice to see my own refreshingly naked communication style reflected back by someone with the same genes.

After all, I like the woman I’ve become. Being happy with myself, confident of my abilities, and strong-willed has served me well. An afternoon in the hot tub sipping wine with my Auntie set me straight, and inspired me to keep on keeping on.

I’m all for remembering your heritage and ancestry, as long as you drop the shame, guilt and dysfunction that casts a shadow over your fabulousness.

Remember your roots darlings, but be sure to prune the poison.

 

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A Week of WTF’s & A Full Moon

wtfspeedoYou got it. It’s been that kind of week my juicy little raspberries.

….but let’s not go there. Let’s go somewhere a bit silly, a bit whimsical, and a little sassy shall we?

I give to you a list of things that made me say the ever-popular ‘WTF’, in my wee little girl-brain.

 

1) WTF is with the new logo on the Starbucks doors?  Seriously, I thought that a gang had been travelling hours to tag the popular coffee desintation’s doorways. As it turns out, it’s just a really bad logo with the tag-line, “Shake up your iced tea”.  First of all Starbucks, it looks stirred not shaken, and second of all, c’mon, really? That’s all you could come up with? Bring back your annoyingly inspiring, little sayings on the cup, bring back really cute Christmas cups, but please lose the crappy door decal. Oh yah, and the Oprah tea.

2) Do wine snobs actually understand the absurd reviews upon which they purchase their over-priced wine? WTF?  A recent review of Krug champagne said that it had notes of – now get this – kumquat and oyster shell.  Anyone with the teeniest of imaginations will automatically revert to the trauma of crunching down on a gritty shell whilst trying to enjoy oysters rockefeller being fed to them by their foreign-born lover. That, or having a filling fall out while they’re eating. Either way, a hint of oyster shell isn’t a real big turn on. Yes, I know this about champagne and I directed this at ‘wine’ snobs. Get over it.

3) Another wine review. Don’t get me wrong I love reading Gord Stimmell’s reviews in the Toronto Star.  But assigning the taste of ‘a hint of iodine’, to a drink is downright appalling and wrong. Just wrong. I take iodine twice a day and it tastes like metallic death. Again, another wine I refuse to spend money on.

4) I recently had the delight of hearing a man give the following explanation after being asked by a woman what type of relationship they were in; “It’s not just sex, but it’s not really a relationship either”. WTF? Just what every woman wants to hear, the smoldering luke-warm passion of an idiot. Carry on my darling woman, carry on. He won’t know what he’s missing.

5) The local pharmacy assistant insisted on assisting me with the choice of treatment for a child’s ear infection prior to allowing me to speak to the pharmacist. WTF? He told me I needed every treatment on the shelf. As a matter of fact, I’m quite surprised he didn’t walk us over to the feminine hygiene aisle and offer to insert a tampon in the poor kid’s ear. If someone asks to speak with the pharmacist, please, let them.

6) White. Flipping. Running Shoes. Black Knee Socks. WTF? Under no circumstances should the former be worn by a man outside of participating in a sporting event, or the latter be worn with shorts. Gentlemen, I’d rather see you in a well-positioned speedo while you performed a hand-stand. Ick.

I think that sums it up darlings. Although the above examples made me think WTF, they also provided me with the silly, mindless entertainment we all need to stoop to now and again to get through the hard stuff.

Stay well, and stay silly. Go ahead, do something tonight that makes someone say, WTF.

 

 

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Eeny-Meeny-Miney-Moe

~"If you want to know where your heart is, look where your mind wanders."~
~”If you want to know where your heart is, look where your mind wanders.”~

Trying to guess what someone else is thinking is like trying to imagine life with a third eye.

In other words, it’s impossible.

You might get close.  You might even consider all of the options over a glass or two of wine with your finest gal-pals, or like I’ve been trying to do lately, you might just give it up completely and carry on with life.

You see, I have a pretty good ability to measure the emotional temperature of a room. Once I have a conversation or work with someone for a while, it’s not too difficult to understand what motivates someone.

When it comes to love however, I absolutely have no idea what’s going on.

It was recently pointed out to me by a brave man, who came back asking for a second chance. At what, I’m still not sure, but nonetheless, he had courage, and I can respect that.

Before we signed our peace treaty and sealed it with a set of messy sheets and a bottle of bubbly, he entertained me through two Manhattan’s with the reason why he disappeared in the first place. I was gob-smacked to hear his perspective, because we all know that I’m always right. Right?

I ran the scenario according to HIM by my gal-pal Dar, and she had to take his side. Yes, I had to admit that I stink at communication with men. More specifically, men I date, sleep with, or am remotely interested in.

A woman known for her ability to communicate, persuade and inspire, I fall well short when it comes to romance. I can intellectualize it for you though.

I am driven by the limbic brain. You know, that part that has been there since our ancestors crawled out of the ocean, onto the land, and chewed off their fins.

The limbic brain is a neighbour to the neo-cortex, where all of our language is formed so we can express ourselves to one another. Unfortunately, the limbic brain and the neo-cortex are bad neighbours. Having said that, being highly intuitive does not equal being highly able to express emotional thoughts.

So lately, as difficult as it is for a control-freak like myself, I have given up guessing what the hell is going on in a man’s mind. I have decided to let destiny unfold without any kind of tinkering or infiltrating the mind of my suitors. Trying.

That does not mean that my lovely and wonderful rendez-vous have gone un-analyzsed by myself and my pals. That does not mean that I have not been kept awake at night wondering what ‘he’s’ thinking, or why ‘he’ did that, or why ‘he’ didn’t do that. It just means that I’m trying to let it go, and let the right man make a place for himself in my life.

My vast experience with men has taught me that trying to  guess their emotions or motivation is like choosing something using the eeny- meeny-miney-moe method of deduction. It just doesn’t work, and it’s a waste of time.

Instead, I’m just doing my best to be in the moment. I am just letting myself love and enjoy them completely and fully without expectation or, disappointment.

So, as my friend Ms. Teri M. says, “May the best man win“.

 

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You’re Only Lonely

onlylonelyLife is meant to be lived. Fully, completely, and without shying away from our passions, our joy, and even our pain.

Passionate and joyful times are always wonderful memories to tuck away for your peed-pants-rocking-chair years.  Painful times are the ones that have the power to destroy us, or inspire us to become better people.

During joyful times; births, graduations or weddings we have our friends with us. During the difficult times; loss and death, we have our best friends with us.

In andshelaughsland, friends stick by each other through thick and thin; joy and loss, lose-your-breath-laughter and foul-potty-mouth-rage.

Beyond friendship we have our lover(s). A deep, physical and emotional connection that we particularly need and want during difficult times.  To be a lover requires a certain standard of boudoir performance and on-call availability.

To be a lover and a best- friend is a rare, beautiful relationship that melts the hearts of strong, independent women the world over.

So, this weekend, when the world cracked just a little bit, and I had a very tough job to do, I was grateful for a tall, dark and handsome shoulder to sigh on. It was not a naked shoulder, it was not a bedroom shoulder, it was a kind, conversational shoulder.

Alas, it was short-lived, and non-committal. It did ease the emotional demands that I anticipated the following day, but it didn’t stick around or return for the complete commitment.

And that my darlings, is the reality of being a singleton.  It’s wonderful to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh while you’ve no commitments. It’s a great way to satisfy base urges, and get the physical companionship that every living being needs.

Tonight as I sipped tea with one of my besties, we shared our stories of manlationships. She has a husband, and I have a few anything-but-committed suitors.  Although we both crave depth in our relationships, each one; the marriage and the casual ‘date’ cannot offer everything we need.

As much as I love the deliciously stimulating company of men, I could not live without the friendship of my girlfriends.

Although my strong, tall-dark-handsome shoulders are fleeting, I do know, that just like the right job, or the right house, the right partner will come along. One who will stick around for occasional tough stuff, but more than that, will be here for all of the laughter too.

All of the others are around because we’re all just a little bit lonely.

I’ll take some silliness and playfulness, and friendship based on what we know of each other between the sheets over isolation any day my darlings. Judge me if you need to…

 

 

 

 

 

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When Words Aren’t Enough

It’s been a topsy-turvy 24 hours, and I’m just headed back to work for a while. Sometimes loss affects even experts, and today is one of those days.

As it was pointed out to me last night, I surround myself with words. I have books and quotes and magazines everywhere.

As my writer’s brain whirls in over-drive, I leave you with a few of my favourite quotes by some of my favourite writers;

 

burn with desire

 

happy i muttered

 

 

whenever you come around

 

ink and rage

 

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