It's Not Dirty Laundry When it's in Your Book.

So this post had been started months ago and never finished. But today for a bit, I've decided to be a murderer and kill some time. Wrapping up lose ends, cleaning out the closets and purging. And by the way, for those of you that wonder how I can say some of the things I say on this blog, it's called MY BLOG. If you don't like it or approve of it, then don't  read it. Really. There are plenty other blogs to browse. This just happens to be my little corner.

I had been wanting to say that for a few weeks now after I got an email stating that I should watch some of the things that I say on my blog for fear of what others might construe. And to that all I have to say is I am wrapping up details on my book and guess what, when you are an author and what you write is loosely based on your actual life, a blog doesn't mean squat. People will construe and say what they wish and think what they want. It's an opinion. I don't need approval from those folks. Two opinions matter. My own and the one  judging me once I kick the bucket. That's it. Besides that, what I write here is for fun, and another side of my life. The writing I do is for fun on here. It's a place to share thoughts, as so long as they don't jack with professional goings on. I keep a lid on that stuff.

Over the past few months I had several people call/email/text - wanting to know what was going on with me and why I had dropped off from the face of the earth or, their radar at least. Well kiddies, it's called major life changes. We all go through them.

I'll start from the beginning...

I had went through a brief period of heartbreak (note: if he is not totally honest to you once, it will not only be once and it was never once in the first place) and had time to lick my wounds, swear off men and then suddenly find myself being courted by a man with whom I would have never of imagined would even considered me (more on that next post). The ex and I agreed to keep the split on the DL since we both know so many of the same people. Long story short, a good deal of talking and we both realized are good people, and better served remaining amicable friends. And it's weird, but for the first time after several months I can now look at this person in whole new light. Not the one of anger and bitterness while I would fight back the tears, but one of the real genuine want to be friends - as we were before we let love seep in. It's kind of crazy since I have never really remained friends with my exs but that's because most of them were just jackasses anyways.

Soon, I found myself packing up and moving in with a  friend who now is more like a sister to me. Frankly, I am blessed to have such a kind person to call a roomie and a very dear friend. She's stayed up late talking to me when I was hurt, killed time getting pedicures and shopping for the perfect red heels with me and we've shared more laughs than I can remember having in a long while - in all, she is a wonderful human being. The new abode is nice. I thought I would only be there temporarily, but now it seems that I might be staying longer. I can't wait to help her rehab and update her place to make it into the catalog pictures she's only imagined it could be.

As if those two things weren't enough on their own, I started a new gig, to which I can't discuss here, confidentiality matters, so we'll just leave it at that.

I got onto a fitness bend and have been doing good with it so far. A few more lbs to go and I will be back at being a buck twenty but all solid, with muscle. So if I weigh more and look great, that is ok. Hey, I'm only 5'2, mind you. Us short people have to watch it. We aren't going to get taller to outgrow a few extra pounds.

That brings me to today. Here I am. Stronger than ever before and really and truly happy. I have also been cutting drama out of my life, which is great. I highly recommend cutting the ties with people or things that cause you stress. You'll feel all the better for it.

Till next post,

A

A Good Knight.

To My Knight:

I don't know if it was fate that brought you to me, but often times, I think it was.

As I sit and look outside my window and stare out into the night sky, I sit and often think about you.

I see your warm smile and inviting eyes and think about you wrapping your arms around me or holding my hand, just because "it fits". I hear your laughter and I smile from the very core of my soul knowing that I am the one who brings you to grin, stirs you to blush and moves your eyes you look at me, in utter amazement.

You make me feel adored, respected and beautiful and most of all - you make me happy.

As each day goes by and as we are drawn closer together sharing stories, sharing secrets and sharing time in each others' lives, know that you are so dear to me and I cherish you, as you are, a knight - my knight...

Hurry Back to the Land of the Living.

Do you know what it feels like to walk around as if you are a ghost? To go through every day, one right after the other, always the same - just going through the motions of existing?

I do.

And I had been doing that for a very long time until something finally clicked and said "I'm not happy anymore." And I wasn't. For quite some time. Of course, I put my usual smile upon my face and carried on each day pretending not to feel that little pain from a piece of my former self dying each day, and crying from the hurt and deprivation of self.

I didn't know where this pain had stemmed from until I took a good long look in the mirror and realized that the source of my pain had been born out of of outright neglect - for me and my feelings. I had been a second thought, a thing taken for granted by so many. It's funny how we do that to each other sometimes. We don't realize how much we value a person until we haven't heard from them in a while and realize that we miss them, but in some cases it's too late. They no longer miss us and have moved onto greener pastures where people actually sit up and take notice and dare I say, stay in touch and not neglect each other.

I missed me. And I missed me dearly. My friends and family had enough of their own worries and the person I had leaned on the most, my rock, made me feel like only a small pebble in their presence. A lot of tears fell and a lot of soul-searching had been done before I decided to make the the choice to drastically change things in my life in order to keep from dying on the inside any more.

So, I changed. Drastically.

I decided to give up my freelancing job and lifestyle in order to take on a new kind of challenge - working as part of a team. I applied all around the country. I got several interviews/call-backs and even an offer or two. Then an opportunity presented itself that seemed like a great challenge for a company that I could really use all of my skills towards and make a difference. I accepted a role that allows me to use all my skills for a while, which will directly impact the future initiatives of the company.

In addition to this change, I began taking the whole getting fit a whole lot more serious and I decided to get a personal trainer and really stick to my guns to whip myself into the tip-top shape. I have just started, but can't wait to see the results in 3 months. Sure it will be a long and painful one, but I can't wait to be on a beach looking like a member of the Swedish Bikini Team (well sans the huge boobs).

But, I didn't stop there. I also decided to change homes too. I loved where I was living, really and truly loved it, but I knew it was time to breakout on my own again and find my own little space. Sometimes a change of address and scenery works wonders on the spirit. Until the "big" move, I will be with a dear friend of mine temporarily who graciously told me I could keep her and her pooches company for a spell, at least until the place I am moving to is done being rehabbed. Thank goodness for friends like that.

Big changes are happening. But all for the right reasons. I am not looking back at all. I am looking forward to all the good things and many new adventures in this crazy little things called life has in store for me. If I happen to pick up a few new faces along the way, so be it. If a few old ones decide to tag along too, hey, the more the merrier. No people that bring drama and negativity though, please. I am leaving that shit behind with any other unclaimed baggage...


Until the next time we chat all...

Be well.

Smooches...

(un)Flawless

It's amazing talking to women sometimes. We sit around comparing ourselves to other more "pretty" women than ourselves, we all have that ugly little jealous streak of a girl that we think has it all, we undermine each other. You don't see men doing stuff like that (well not in those exact ways).

It's really incredible that some women think so little of themselves. When talking to a friend the other day, she griped to me about how she wishes she could spend one day looking like me. I had to laugh at her comment. She grew quiet with me on the phone and told me that she was being serious. I had to laugh even harder and explain to her my secret for looking good.

"I smile on the inside and it reflects on the outside." I told her that if would really and truly believe that she was pretty and carry herself as such, men would notice. I have seen women of all shapes and sizes and appearances attract men no matter WHAT they look like. Don't beleive me? Go to Wal-Mart sometime or any given festival. You'll see what I mean.

Those women may not look like a supermodel, but they exude confidence and believe that they truly are pretty in their own right - and they are. We are all beautiful in our own way. And let's keep in mind that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

My friend still wasn't getting the point so she flatly asked me what was "wrong" with me.  "You are like, flawless" she insisted. This is hardly the case and I explained to her that I wasn't without flaws.

"I have flaws. Plenty of them. Most of them you can't see readily, but they are there - trust me. I have just learned to play up my best features, work on the ones that I can improve and forgive the rest. Because you can't fix everything. Any geneticist would agree with me on that."

"I still think you are full of it," and she held the line waiting for me to spill the beans, if only to build her own fragile ego. So, I obliged because I am confident about myself and if someone doesn't think I am pretty, etc. well, that's their opinion. And we all have those.

"My flaws are as follows," I began.

"I have a 2 inch long scar on my left leg that doesn't tan.

I had to wear braces for 5 years of my life and still have to wear retainers to keep them in order.

My hair color? Yeah - it's not mine. I color it because I have some gray - yes, even at my age. And it is fine, so it is kind of flat by default.

I have a few spider-veins on the back of my one leg. Don't know how I got 'em but they are small and there and annoying. I also have a  birthmark on my calf muscle shaped like the island of Crete.

My thighs - yup - they are aplenty because I rode a mountain bike for a long time and built them up. I could probably crush ribs in a wrestling match with those...

I am short. I am barely 5'2". Try shopping for clothes like that. I still have to go to the JUNIORS section to find stuff that will fit.

I have a butt. And not just any butt. It rivals that of J-Lo. Which can make jeans shopping less than fun and while we are on that kick, I am small on top. No Pamela Anderson for me. So basically, I am shaped like a bowling pin and/or penguin.

(By now she was laughing.)

I have to wear contact lenses because I am as blind as a bat and when I am not in those, I wear glasses. Yes, glasses.

My skin isn't perfect. Lord knows I go through great effort to keep it relatively blemish free, but guess what? I still get the occasional breakout.

I don't glisten in the heat like most women. Nope, I sweat. I swear, I could sweat about as much as any man. Summers mean going through great measures to remain smelling sweet like a flower.

Is that enough?"

By now she was hysterical on the phone. "WOW! You're a hot-mess!" she said.

I could tell that I had made her feel a bit better about herself. And with that we hung up after chatting a bit more. I couldn't helped but after to stop and look in the mirror and smile because to me, my flaws don't matter. I am still cute in my way. I may not be Angelina Jolie, but I have confidence that could rival hers. And the last time I checked, I wasn't short of guys who find me cute, too.

Talk to all you cats later...

A

Love: Isn't All You Need

With Valentine's Day fast approaching and the throngs of star-crossed lovebirds chasing down that perfect card from Hallmark and extra special gift for their significant other, I cannot help but to laugh. I laugh because you can keep love my friend. What is love really?

Have you ever stopped to ask yourself that? It is a shallow set of 3 otherwise meaningless words that when plugged into a sentence together, is supposed to signify more than words can say. That we above all else, adore someone to the extent that we feel inclined to mutter those 3 words together in order to signify our devotion to them.

I save love for people I know aren't going anywhere anytime soon. Namely, my family and dearest friends - but even time will only tell with them. I only love the people that should they exit my life, I would probably shed some tears over. Now that's love. To me, at least. I've cried over more pets and dear people than I have over former "loves".

If I really and truly love someone, I choose to share my life (or some aspect of it) with them. I let them into my world and all that goes on in it. Sure, I may have "loved" my exs - but let's face it, muttering those words were an act of compliance and obligation. He "loved" me and I of course cared deeply for him. So, I "loved" him. I can tell you this though - if any of my exs were to exit my life entirely (I'm talking meeting their maker) I probably would feel sorry for their families, but I wouldn't cry over them. Because I really and truly didn't "love" them deeply enough in the first place.

Cold? Perhaps so. But love holds a higher value to me. Do I "love" anyone? Well, I might like someone an absolute lot and "love" the person I am closest too at the moment, but if they should leave on their own accord, that "love" fades.

And so it goes sometimes. People fall in and out of love and the whole notion is rather sickening. We as people like the thrill and rush from it all. New love. New things. Sometimes though, you are lucky enough to have real and true love - old love that through the years, you just love and adore that person even more - like a wine. It only gets better with time.

I'll take happiness over love any day. Happiness in the time I share with someone. Happiness in my own life.

To me, happiness isn't a source of pain, anger, frustration (and more). But, there aren't many happiness songs. Well, maybe a few - but those are few and far between. Love on the other hand - you just can't seem to escape on the radio. Good love. Real love. Bad love. Tragic love and so on. That shit is everywhere. You can't seem to avoid it.

Happiness is just that. Happy. Content. Glad and joyous of each moment. Wouldn't you much prefer to have a whole lot of that with someone - all the time?

Sounds like a good deal to me.

So to all of you in love or loving someone - have a great day of meeting that obligation. I'll be in pursuit of happiness that day and I'm sure it can be found without a card, 3 words, flowers or chocolates...

Best,

A

Some Men Got it. Some Men Don't. [Here's How to Get Some...]

Recently I met and had drinks with a guy friend. He began to explain to me his dating woes. He had come to the conclusion women only want the men that are just complete jerks to them and that there really wasn't any room for the "nice guy" anymore.

I of course had to laugh when I heard that. Sure, women seem to be more and more drawn to the complete and utter douchebags/bad-boy wannabes (if reality TV is any indication) but most of the women drawn to that type are:

1.) Immature

2.) Have no class/taste

Case in point: The show "Jersey Shores", It is quite popular amongst the young'uns nowadays, and it would seem that women pine after the male stars who are the douchebag type because the women who like these men are of course, immature and have little to no class or taste.

So men: First and foremost, try aiming for the women around your own age bracket or who actually have an I.Q.  Leave the jail-bait at home. Sure it's nice to have the arm candy that lacks brains and dresses in the finest adornments from Fredrick's of Hollywood, but eventually, you'll begin to long for a girl who also fits the bill of arm candy, has a brain and has a fondness for La Perla and dresses for the occasion (and not just to show it all off all of the time).

All that aside, the problem that most men lack is that "edge" that women want. Think of it as this: a gentleman with a solid dose of confidence - meaning, he is to be respected. Firmness to keep himself from being walked on, but a softer side that isn't too good to pick up flowers "just because".

Think of the actor Cary Grant or for those of you who have no clue who he is (and shame on you for not) think of the actor George Clooney. What both these men have about them that draws women to them in throngs (even though Grant is dead, his reputation lives on for his women skills) is that self-assurance of confidence blended with humor, humility, being debonair and demanding respect.

It's sort of like James Bond - only you don't bolt in the morning for us never to hear from you again.

Don't get me wrong - all those guys still have that slight bad-boy streak to them, but they also keep it classy and smooth while still being generally nice and respectful of women.

Trust me fellas: WOMEN NOTICE THIS. AND WE LIKE IT.

We are all fans of the guy who can class it up and can bum around in a t-shirt and jeans all while being confident but not cocky. No girl wants the guy who is full of himself. We see it as a big red flag that odds are: he pulls a lot of tail and will eventually break our hearts.

I had an ex who was one such species (Mr. Full of Himself). I of course thought he was just confident. He also had the humor, softer side, blah, blah, blah... but now that I really have had an opportunity to really look back on it, he was cocky. He was beyond cocky. And he treated me as if I were never good enough. He gave me just enough attention/affection to keep me coming back for more (shame on me).

Eventually Mr. Full of Himself got real old. He did indeed break my heart and while with him, it was always public info. that due to his looks, he could get any woman he wanted, simply by being there. I learned from that and avoid men like that like I avoid White Castles without good cause.

So some tips to see what those Cary Grant types do to win women over:

They smile. They take actual interest in what a lady is saying. They are confident enough to ask for a  number and follow-up with a nice, well planned for date in which he keeps his hands to himself. A good-night smooch is one thing, pawing at us like some dog in heat is another.

They call when they say they will and they keep their word. They leave the games where they belong - on the playground. They make themselves available, but not so much that they seem desperate. They have lives - real lives - with jobs and responsibilities and friends/outside interests. They take things in a relationship at a nice, normal pace and don't become overbearing or worse, possessive/jealous.

They aren't just around for a "good time" and are gone. No, these gents make it appoint to make a woman a part of their lives in some fashion or other. Even if the dating doesn't work out, he remains a friend and gets the jackpot - a friendship with a woman who has access to (tada) more women. And if you are a gentleman, trust me, word travels fast amongst the females.

Ever notice some smoking hot girl on what would appear to be some average guy's arm? Well chances are, he's met the criteria and got past the pre-screening process. He is a gentleman and she'll hang onto him until he proves himself otherwise.

Guys that are push-overs, jerks, act immature (and the list goes on and on) always get found out and always find themselves single (or with some trashy drama queen who acts like a a teeny-bopper). The reason: Some woman recognized those bad characterisitcs and got tired of his shit (thus kicking him to the curb).

Well fellas,  hope this helps. Women still want the nice guys, we just want him to have a  bit of an edge without being a total dick. Make sense?

Happy hunting...

The Hardest Word to Say.

Why is it as people, some of us find it hard to simply just apologize? Why is that?

Apologize for being rude. Apologize for snagging the last good item from the vending machine. Apologize for doing something really screwed up to someone else. Just apologize.

I don't get it. I apologize. And when I do, I mean it.

I hurt your feelings? Sorry. I bumped your beer and made it splash on you? Sorry. Let me get you a fresh one. I failed to let you speed through the yellow light? Sorry. (But, it was for your own safety.)

You get the idea.

So folks, you screw up, admit it. Even if you have the most remote inkling that you did something that warrants an apology, say it. And mean it. It really does matter to people.

In the past few months I have had people do some pretty rude things to/towards me. They never apologized. They went on like their actions were perfectly acceptable. They weren't. And still aren't. I haven't forgotten and yes, when you get around to it, I would appreciate an apology.

Just sayin...