Just Another Day in NYC

• I got about a dozen fashion ideas. And that's just during a three-block walk in mid-town Manhattan.
• Over the course of three days, I probably received 4 or 5 kissy noises, crude comments, or whistles from men on the street. Fifteen years ago, that used to infuriate me. Today, it just makes me laugh.
• I walked into the middle of an ESPN live broadcast in Grand Central. I was so oblivious, I couldn't understand why the young guy was saying "Move over there! Please!"
• During dinner with a friend, I was able to hear three different languages other than English being spoken around us.
• I shared a ride to work with about 1,000 other people. Yet we still were able to avoid eye contact and stay completely silent.
• Drinks at a new, hip, rooftop lounge in Manhattan is more than an outing. It's an experience.
• I must congratulate the women of NY. They are looking simply stunning this summer (I'm loving the current summer fashions). The men, however...c'mon now! Getting a bit too sloppy.
• I walked down the same street as John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. A female colleague and I were meeting with some local business managers. I was shocked to experience the blatant, Brooklyn-style flirting the men laid on us.
• I saw NYC's latest art installation- the Waterfalls, near the Brooklyn Bridge. No offense, New York, but it was kinda like a giant fire hydrant that was left on.
• Never know what to expect here. That's why I love it.

A Man-Free Summer

This past spring, I focused on cleaning house. Not literally, of course. But clearing my life of the crap, emotionally. Straightening up my friendships, my relationships. Facing my feelings, desires, needs, etc. full on.

And when I cleared my life of the now-infamous three doors, it was my intent to have a restorative man-free summer. I was just going to be. So many other areas of my life required my attention.

I wanted to have a summer of joy.

Then I met LPS and that kinda shook things up for bit. I didn't want to meet a new man. But he was fun, attractive, with a pretty joyful outlook on life. I was intrigued by his intellect, his talent and wit, and his boyish exhuberance. So I figured you can't always stick to a scheduled plan, and we began dating. He made me laugh, we had a unique connection, and we enjoyed the time we spent together. It was refreshing.

After about half a dozen dates and many long late night phone calls spread out over the course of several weeks, he said some stuff that freaked me out. So then I said some stuff that pissed him off. And our dalliance wasn't strong enough to withstand conflict at that point, so *poof*...done. Finished before it began. Hasty? Reactive? Or just wisely cutting our losses? Who knows? I do miss him,though. I guess these things happen.

The point is, this coincides with two events that are somewhat symbolic to me, and reminds me what my original intent was. I just returned from a conference focused on women business owners. Lots of feminine energy and celebration. Next week, I'm attending a purely fun girls weekend with about 20 women at the new Gaylord resort. Eating, drinking, shopping, spa visits, dancing, etc. Very, very, girly.

I consider this the launching of my real man-free summer. Time to travel, play, see my friends and fam. Just be. Glorious.

Oh. Wait a minute. Does man-free mean I have to cut my maintenance man loose?

I may need to rethink this. Or continue to break my own rules!

My Latest Crush

I met this guy last night in Dallas. He is hysterical and I am smitten! Check this out to see why.

Reality Dating TV: A Sociological Experiment?

I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one with an embarrassing interest in reality TV. (Thanks Washwords!) I won't even try to justify it. It is what it is.

This is the first season of the Bachelor/Bachelorette series that I've watched in a long time. Not sure why I got into this time except that it has corresponded with the times that I need some background noise for some work I'm doing. (There- I justified myself anyway!)

What interests me about this franchise is some of the things it seems to suggest about the genders and their pursuit for love. A few things I've noticed over the years:

* When a Bachelor chooses a woman after "dating" 24 other women, he rarely stays with her very long after the show. (Or in the case of Brad Womack, he decides he's done with all of them by the last episode.)

*When a woman is doing the choosing amongst 25 men, the relationship more often results in an engagement, long term relationship and/or marriage.

What conclusions could we possibly draw from this? That once men have a taste for multiple women, it's a hard habit to break? That whenever men are knowingly competing for the attentions of one woman, they tend to "fall" harder?

Ick. Hope not.

Yet as I watched this season, it was hard not to think that was the case. The men get to spend very little one on one time with the Bachelorette, and not only do they know she's dating others, they know exactly who, what, when and where it's happening!

Deanna, an attractive, nice-enough girl, actually had four men fall pretty deeply in love with her during the course of this show. Which takes place over a matter of weeks. Weeks. Deeply in love. Declaring their love on national TV. Crying over the prospect of losing her.

Three of the men wanted to marry her. Were practically begging to marry her.

So which one(s) did she fall for?

Hmmmm...first it was the super hot, sexy Graham who was emotionally distant and had trouble with commitment. Somehow, Deanna got up the courage to cut him loose, but everyone could see she was WAY into him.

Of course, Jeremy never stood a chance. He was declaring his feelings for her from the get-go. He was uber-attentive, extra romantic, very vulnerable. Supposedly everything Deanna wanted on paper, yet "something" was missing.

Poor single-dad Jason actually went as far as getting on his knee to propose, before Deanna said "wait! I can't!" The words she used to describe him? "A great father, stable, comfortable, loving, safe."

So she goes with Jesse, the wild snow boarder, who had no intentions of getting married when he started the show. But after getting caught up in the pursuit, the competition, or whatever it is, he walks away engaged to his "soul mate".

I thought love was a magical, chemical, indescribable thing that happens only rarely and in the right conditions? Because it seems to me that in this case, the love was manufactured and generated by the circumstances. Master manipulation. Tell me, does that mean the love wasn't real?

Camp Crazee

Three years ago, my family went camping during the July 4th week. Apparently, it went well since my parents immediately dubbed it an "annual tradition". (My family is BIG on tradition, though sometimes I think it's just a way for my parents to designate yet another holiday that requires a visit to them.)

Now, before you get all impressed with our collective adventurous spirit, and our "roughing it" attitude, let me clarify.

This is the oddest camping scenario I have experienced. Or heard about. And I love to camp!

The first part of the tradition begins with my father gathering all the appropriate equipment days, or maybe even weeks, before the actual date. Each year, the inventory of gear seems to grow: tents, canopies, grills, lanterns, chairs, tables, outdoor games, fishing poles, sleeping bags, air mattresses, etc. etc.

Next, my father requires the site to be set up several hours before the rest of the family arrives. Check in at the site is 3 pm. We were all planning to get there around 5 or 6. Dad called to see if he could check in early, dragging my brother out of bed at 8 am to begin preparations. My brother, GS, said the previous party hadn't even left yet- they were literally hanging around waiting for them to pack up.

Another important note to this wacky tradition: the camp site is fifteen minutes from my parents' house.

Why is this important? Because the back and forth between my parents' house and the campsite continues throughout the duration of the "camping trip".

The women do not sleep at the camp. That "privilege" is reserved for my Dad, my brothers, and all six kids. The women sleep in their nice, warm, comfy beds at my parents' house. But don't think their role is all cushy. Their other job is to coordinate all behind the scenes planning, preparation, and cooking.

In other words, in the morning the women pack up all the food and cooking supplies needed for that day. (Many of the items require some preparation before transport.) Then they coordinate the all day eating fest when we arrive at the camp. (With the exception of all grilling and anything that has to do with the campfire.) At the end of the day, they pack up all the perishables to bring back home (usually around 11 pm). Upon arrival at home, they wash dishes in preparation for the next day.

Then they start all over again in the morning.

The men are in charge of the campsite itself: making it functional, making arrangements if it rains, keeping the fire going. They are also in charge of entertaining the children: hiking, swimming, fishing, playing soccer, etc.

Now the way I've described this it's sounds kind of organized. It isn't. At all. When you get a bunch of related adults together for a gathering like this, each person seems to have his/her idea about how things need to be done. There is very little consensus. So arguments and bickering sprinkle throughout our holiday festivities.

At Camp Crazee, I struggle to find my role. I would never in a million years make the menu issue so complicated, therefore I refuse to participate in the preparation of the potato salad. And while I quite enjoy sleeping in the wilderness, doing so with 6 small children is another adventure completely. So I stick with the women and do my best to stay out of the way. I keep my opinions to myself, and decide that my contribution to this celebration is my presence.

Of course, when I said this to my mother, she responded "Presents? You brought presents?"

Blood Before Boys

I made two separate attempts to have impromptu debriefing sessions with my girlfriends yesterday. I was particularly looking for some input regarding my dating conflama.

Yes- I wanted to talk about a boy. So sue me!

Anyway, my first attempt was made pretty early in the morning. Before 9. Which is an ungodly hour for me on a Sunday, but not for my friend Jessica. So I called her, got her voice mail, and left a message.

Hours later, she called me back. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to call you back, I've been at the emergency room all morning."

Oh my! She fills me in on the details of her troubles. Lots of pain involved, healing needed, interruptions to her life for at least the next several days. And she was on some sort of pain medication as she spoke to me.

"So what did you need to talk to me about?"

Um. Never mind. For some reason, it didn't really seem like the right time to talk about my silly issues.

My next attempt for a debriefing session came much later, in the early evening. I called my friend Marlene. She answers on the first ring "Oh! I thought you were my friend the nurse calling me back. I just dropped a huge knife on my foot and it has a really deep cut that won't stop bleeding. Do you think I should go to the emergency room?"

"OMG- yeah! Of course! Go take care of your injury!"

"By the way, what were you calling about?"

"Well...I think your drama trumps mine. Just go take care of yourself!"

So as I said in the title: blood before boys. Every time.

Cyberstalking

Thank GOD internet usage wasn't prevalent fifteen years ago. Or ten. There's no telling what I would have done.

I don't know how all the dating-age-teens and twenty-somethings handle it.

Years ago, I had insane tendencies if I was ever scorned by a man. I would simply flip out. Do whatever I could to cause as much chaos as possible. I wanted the man to hurt as badly as I did.

Like the time that I just knew my boyfriend was cheating on me. So I somehow figured it was a good idea to drive over his house late at night and park out front until he showed up with a woman. He did. He took off like a bat out of hell when he saw my car, and I proceeded to spend the next couple days attempting to confront him. I had to call him at work, pretend to be a customer to get him to answer the phone, and finally got the chance to unleash my wrath.

So silly. What an idiot! (Not him- me!)

Then there's the time my ex-fiance brought another woman to our bar less than two weeks after our breakup. What did I do when they attempted to make a quick escape? Followed them out to the parking lot like a stark raving lunatic, confronted them (Hey bitch- do you even know we were engaged up until two weeks ago????), and simply had a fit.

(Oh, wait. That's not a good example since the evening resulted in the woman taking off and me spending the evening with the ex. Like I said- insane.)

Thankfully, I grew up. No man has inspired that level of out of control rage in me for many, many years. I learned that if I don't trust someone and I think they are cheating, I leave. I simply avoid the drama.

But if there had been such thing as an "online presence" back in my insane days, there could have been major trouble. A friend of mine tells me about an ex that pores over his blog excessively. Another friend talks about keeping an eye on men she dates through their match profiles (what do you mean he was on match within the hour!) and through facebook (who is that new friend on his page!).

Then, I got a taste of the poison myself. Last week, I read something online that gave me the vague impression that my ex has a new woman in his life. So I read more and found another implication. Did I stop there? Of course not! My masochistic self kept looking until I ended up with not only a pretty strong confirmation, but details about the woman herself.

I felt twinges of the old tendencies begin to surface- what do I do?

I should call him!! Yes! That is what I should do!

Not because I want to talk to him (haven't spoken in months). Not because I want to hear about how things are going in his life (don't particularly care). And not even because I want him in my life (nope- better off without him).

I recognized that it was that I simply wanted to do whatever I could to cause as much chaos as possible. I wanted to hurt the man as badly as I could.

My evolved, oh-so-mature self was able to see this, take a moment, and calm down.

But if this had been 10 years ago...