Ode To My Father

I wrote this poem below today in about 5 minutes. It wasn't planned. It just happened.

A little backstory: My father died of a drug overdose when I was four years-old. It was a tragic accident, some said. Some people just couldn't handle their drugs, others mumbled.

When I was sixteen, my father's mother called me to tell me she was dying. She had some things of my father's that she had wanted me to have before she passed. My grandmother handed me an orange leather suitcase and told me to go through it when I got home.

Inside were my dad's high school yearbook, his bronzed baby shoes, a few Polaroid photographs, some of my stuffed animals from when I was a baby and a sealed envelope with my name on it.

The letter was a note written to me by my father explaining that he wasn't a good dad, couldn't be a proper role model and I would be happier without him. He described his death as planned. It was a suicide. Since no one was with him at the time of his death, no one had known exactly what had happened to him. But there in my tiny dormered bedroom in the two bedroom Cape Cod in which I grew up; on that sunny afternoon when I was a sophmore in high school, I found out the truth.


Ode To My Father

You were born out of love
But that love quickly waned
A tumultuous childhood stole your smile
You grew up, you fell in love
And soon a child had his child

You played the part, you did your job
You tried to make it work
‘Two children raising a child?’
I say now, with a smirk

Your anger, regret and angst quickly made you sick
Your disease soon overtook you
And there was no turning back

There was no high that was high enough
That could help you free your mind
From the demons of your past
Looming close behind

You tried to be good, you tried to be there
But you just couldn’t do it
You said I’d be better without you
And you made quick work of it

A father should be there in mind, body and spirit
You took your life for “my sake” instead
Though I didn’t want to hear it

Leaving is a selfish act though you claim it selfless
For there is a hole in my heart that cannot be filled
That feeling on occasion is relentless

I must forgive to get me through
Around my mind it’s hard to bend
Why you thought I didn’t need you
I can never comprehend

We all have struggles we’re not unique
But it’s in how we deal with them
That’s why I choose to stay, face and fight with the best of them

My daughter is now 7 with smiles upon her face
Because her father chose to heal instead and occupy her space

The most powerful thing, Dad, is that history is not repeating in this very important case

My Meeting With Usher

In 2004, just after my marriage dissolved, as a newly single woman trying to make my $3,700 per month Manhattan rent any way I could, I became a singing, acting, modeling, make-up artist. I piece-mealed a living. It worked. I enjoyed the freedom, the flexibility and the chaos working all those jobs provided me.

The year-long Enrique Iglesias tour I was on had just ended and instead of singing for 110,000 people in London or on TV in front of millions on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, you could have found me singing at weddings, bar-mitzvahs or any clubs or restaurants in NYC that would agree to pay me. On my days off from performing, I took to driving to Long Island to help my mother by working in her chocolate shop. I miss that chocolate. My mom closed the doors to her confectionary empire about 4 years ago. 

The tour manager from Enrique's camp with whom I had become friendly called me up one day and invited me to an Usher concert at The Garden. "Usher? Who's that?" I was so busy working during that time trying to scramble up an income that you wouldn't have been able to catch me chilling out on the drive to LI listening to the radio, bopping along to the latest tunes on Z-100. Instead I was on the phone making deals or racking my brain to figure out the next step in my life. And since I worked nights and weekends as a singer, I couldn't make it to the bars or clubs so I lived under a rock, pretty much. I really didn't know anything about this Usher dude but I wanted to support my friend and his new 'little tour job thingy,' so I said yes. 

I was promised front row seats but when I got there I was told that Naomi Campbell, at the last minute, had purchased every seat in the first three rows of Madison Square Garden. Apparently Naomi and this "Usher person" were dating at the time. The venue was sold out. There wasn't a seat in the house; a mishap that won me the rare privilege of watching the show from the stage. The feeling that night was electric. My viewing area was actually a 1'x1' section of wooden floor in "the wings", a theater term used to describe the sides of the stage behind the curtain. I stood there for the first few minutes of the show, which was mind-blowing, when I was suddenly nudged. I looked over my shoulder for a brief second but then turned back to watch the show. A moment later I got a shove; I mean a really big shove out of the way. When I looked next to me to see who could be so rude, it was none other than Diddy. Diddy, who, despite his clout, had an even smaller section than 1 square foot  in which I had to stand, so he stole some of my prime space. It was my second time being that close to him. You can check out my first Diddy meeting on my blog. 

After about 5 minutes of trying to ignore the smell of too-strong cologne and enjoy the show, I took notice of my surroundings. Diddy's entire entourage had slowly seeped in. They completely infringed upon my space and I was muscled out of the way. My tour manager friend noticed my predicament, grabbed me by the hand, ran me out front to the second row of seats on the floor in front of the stage and said, "Here. Is that better? Naomi and her camp all cancelled. No one's showing up. You have the whole three rows to yourself, Darlin.'"

And there I was. And there he was. It was me and Usher, Usher and Me. I should preface this by mentioning that I sang at Madison Square Garden the previous year and the way the lights hit your eyes, you can only really see the first two or three rows in the center on the floor and since I was the only person sitting in that entire section...He was supposed to be looking out at Naomi Campbell and her 80 or so friends but they "flaked out" at the last minute and just I was there instead. It was me and Usher, there on that night; virtually alone. An intimate concert pour deux. I felt so uncomfortable. Because all he could really see was me, he made eye contact throughout the whole show. His presence is strong and his stare intense. And even though I have years of musical and dance training, I was suddenly feeling like this awkward white girl with no rhythm because I didn't know the music.

Usher was and still is very handsome and he commanded the stage like Michael Jackson. He owned it. His demeanor was smooth, sexy, strong and he sang and danced his ass off. Every good performer uses crowd participation by turning their microphone toward their loyal fans so they can sing along with the music. Usher likes to do this a lot; I would imagine that singing and dancing for the entire show gets tiresome so a little help from the audience is probably necessary. Since I had never heard any of his music before in my life,  every time he did that, I sank in my chair a little deeper, nodded and politely smiled. He looked so deflated. He was almost becoming angry; perhaps not at me per se but at Naomi and then at his management for not filling the front few rows with, well, at least fans when his girlfriend blew him off. I know from experience, the energy a performer gets from the crowd is so crucial to the performance. I totally ruined his night. 

After the show, my friend took me backstage to introduce me to Usher. I could tell he was a little pissed. He was wondering why I came. His mind was racing. He was speechless. Then he said, "I saw you out there. In front, right? That was you?" I said, "Oh, yes that was me. I'm so sorry that I don't know your music. My friend Bill told me you are really talented and I should check out your show so I came to support him. Great job, man. I really enjoyed it." Usher responded "I could tell" in a sarcastic tone. I am pretty sure I was the only woman Usher shook hands with that night who didn't at least almost faint. 

Usher, I'm sorry for that night. I'm more sorry about your girlfriend. And thank goodness you're not still dating her. Good move!

How Well Do You Know Yourself?

I am constantly amazed at the number of people who don't seem to know much about the subject they should get straight A's in. Themselves.

There are few things I know so much about but then again, I am an only child and I have had quite a bit of time to think.

It's obvious a person isn't too well-acquainted with himself when he's asked, (and please don't ask), "So, tell me about yourself." (which is like the worst non-question-that's-really-a-cop-out-in-command-form ever) You'll get, "I'm a doctor. I studied at Yale University. I'm 32 years old. I grew up in Boston." And more fantastically interesting and min-blowingly deep answers like that. Is that who you are? Is what you do to make money or where you went to school- is that what defines you? I actually NEVER ask someone what they do for a living unless they are super-quiet, we're only half-way on a drive from NY to FL and I'm plum outta questions.

The more meaty questions are: What is your passion? What are your dreams? Goals? What is your favorite thing to do when you are alone? What is the one thing you could change about yourself if only you could?

A few things I already know about me: I crave chaos so I create it by procrastinating, rushing, creating impossible to-do lists or daily tasks. I need to feel accomplishment. I can't sleep with the door closed. I think too much. Conversely and yet simultaneously, I let my heart decide too often. I eat when I'm stressed. I hate taking out the garbage and running errands. I abhor food shopping or any shopping for myself. I haven't worn my 'dry clean only' clothes in 10 months because I just can't get myself to go to the dry cleaner. It's the wrote and mundane and I hate it! I hate mean people and being cold. And cold, by the way, is anything less than 60 degrees- only because cold is so relative. And now I'm done with that part. I don't like the word "hate" and only reserve it for those select items.

I would probably steal your chocolate when you're not looking. But then I would buy you some more...online. Did ya hear me when I said I hate shopping? 

I pick at my cuticles. I deprive myself too often.

I know that there's no such thing as perfect but I still always try. It's a losing battle, so I breathe and let it go, but tomorrow I may just try again. I am the definition of insanity in that case. I attempt to win approval from those whom are so difficult to give it. I fail and then...try again. I have been called "crazy, but in a good way" more than once. I can be really fun!

I challenge myself and set goals which I always achieve (some I am in the middle of achieving as I write). I am sensitive yet strong. I am on a good path. I can't change. No one can. So it's about acceptance. I accept myself. I'm always trying to be better and do better and I believe everyone should but in the end, we will still be ourselves, only better. Know that about your own damn self and everyone around you. People don't change! P-e-o-p-l-e d-o-n-t c-h-a-n-g-e.

Favorite place on earth so far? Italy. Next dream vacation? Brazil, maybe. The rainforest seems so magical, don't it?

I used to dance naked in front of the mirror when I was alone. Now, I work. I'm trying to change that but it's a process.

Enough about me. Let's talk about you:

Where would you live if you could choose anywhere on earth?

If you could trade lives for a week with anyone living or dead whom would that be?

If you could ask Martin Luther King, Jr. one question, what would that be?

Who would you rather see as our next president- Bill Gates or George Clooney and why?

What makes you cry?

If you were living on a deserted island and had plenty of fruit and nuts would you take up hunting or fishing? I'm saying you don't have to for nutritional purposes. Yes? What are you, a savage?

You're at the movies and you can only choose popcorn OR Goldenberg's Peanut Chews. Which one? Quick. There's a long line!

What makes you laugh so hard you start crying? Well, go out and do that right now and then tell me about it so I can laugh with you.


Please ask yourself these important questions and others- just keep going. Take one of those dating quizzes like the 17,000 page one on eharmony.com because if you know yourself you then possess the key to making yourself happy/satisfied/peaceful/fulfilled; even for a moment, an hour, a day, an hour a day, whatever it is. You can't rely on others to give you the feeling of happiness, peace or acceptance or what you need at the moment.  And remember, a happy life just consists of more fun moments than not, so don't be afraid to tip the scale. Make good choices. Choose to not be angry or frustrated. Choose instead to laugh it off. No one has it easier or harder than you. It's all how you process it, handle it and most simply, look at it.

Dating Horror Story #?

Online dating is for creeps. Who said that? I breathe deeply and begin my story.

So this story takes place awhile back. I'm telling this story just now, hoping enough time has passed that "he", the subject, will forget to look me up. All names, most places and gory details will be changed to protect the innocent.

I was contacted through an online dating site by a gentleman who is a few years younger than I. He had these piercing blue eyes, that shone even through my computer screen like pale blue spotlights. They were as large as saucers; like a beautiful doll in a very expensive toy store. He seemed very nice and super-interesting but yet didn't say much about himself except that he is a writer. A writer. Nice. Creative, thoughtful, insightful, intelligent. Love him already.

I googled him, saw his photo, saw that he is in fact a writer, read one piece of his, saw a video of him on a major TV show and knew it was safe to pass on my phone number. I had asked him to call me but he never did. He preferred email. Okay. He's a writer. Fine.

We made plans to meet for one drink in NYC. I worked a full day, showered after work and hauled my butt to the city. When I arrived in Manhattan, I received a text from him that he would be late. "Ok, no problem" was my answer. I went to the spot he had chosen to wait for him. It was a very noisy bar/club with a doorman, red velvet rope and filled with half-naked 20 year old kids. I walked in, pretended to see someone in the back and when the coast was clear I promptly darted toward the ladies' room.

My head was pounding from the Boom ba-boom-boom Super Bass after being there for 14 seconds. How would I get through an hour or more at this place? How would this guy be able to hear a word I said? I looked at msyelf in that ladies room mirror and said, "Self? You gotta get outta this joint and pronto, Bub. Ya hear?" So I ventured out onto the Manhattan street in search of a more suitable place, all the while, trying to conjure up a reason why I changed locations so as to lead him away from the thought that I'm not "fun" or "cool" enough to meet at a club.

He sent another text, another excuse, another half hour or more. He's really late now. It's been an hour. I'm already here. What to do? Turn around and go home or display my go-with-the-flow attitude?

I walked east in an attempt to find another place in the neighborhood we could meet that would say I'm a cool chick but I am a quiet, romantic chick. I stumbled upon a bar on 2nd Avenue and walked in for inspection. When I opened the door, like a vacuum, the smell of what must have been 47 years of dried, spilled beer and vomit sucked me in and filled my nose. Maybe a choice like this would prove that "I can hang?"I stayed for about a minute and when I found out there was a punk band setting up I decided to keep walking. And walking. Nope. There was nothing else around. I was wondering if I was in some kind of bizarre vortex. I was in Manhattan and couldn't find a place to meet someone? I walked downtown.

I meandered a few blocks down and came upon a fire house with an open garage door. As I neared the opening, I noticed a few firemen standing right in the doorway. I approached the group of strapping lads wearing tight t-shirts with a deep breath and a smile. Upon closer inspection, my jaw began to drop as it looked like they were in the middle of the meeting to decide which one would be chosen to be on the cover of the NYC Firefighter Calendar. Hunky, tall, strong and wow, to say the least.

I looked around their semi-circle, wiggled my way in and waited politely to say, ahem, "Excuse me?" They all stopped and stared at me like I was a baby gazelle with a wounded leg in the middle of the African grasslands during a drought. I asked them if they could recommend a place in the neighborhood to have a first date. "It's a blind date", I said, "and he's 1 1/2 hours late." One fireman, Mike, introduced himself. He told me he lives on Long Island and he was getting off in 20 minutes. If I could wait, he would be happy to take me anywhere I wanted. I sheepishly giggled and gracefully declined, stating that I had made plans with someone and wouldn't want to stand that person up. Mike said, "Well, anyone who leaves you stranded for this long can't be worth waiting for. If you change your mind, you know where to find me." Then Mike told me about a place just down the block that was a quaint a quiet, dark and romantic place to grab a drink. I went there, ordered a drink and made myself comfortable. Two or three more texts later, my date showed up. Almost 2 1/12 hours late.

He began by asking me if I knew who he was. I said no. His mouth fell open and his already silver dollar sized eyes grew even larger. He went on to tell me about how he is famous and kind of went on to say that I must live under a rock if I didn't know of him. Well, I do live under a rock. I own two businesses and I'm a single mom with 5 pets. When do I have time for TV, reading, going out, keeping up with pop culture, etc.? I'm lucky I have time to shower! This guy was very disappointed that I wasn't impressed with him, his celebrity friends or his phenomenal name-dropping skills so the date went nowhere and we cordially parted ways. He said I should start singing again and he would take me out for karaoke but I didn't think that would be the best idea and it never happened. Narcissism is a disease that can't be cured and I don't want to even co-chair a charity like that.

I want to thank Mike the fireman from Long Island for making an awful night so much better at least in retrospect and Mike, I should have waited the 20 minutes for you and told famous boy that I wait 2 1/2 hours for no one. Firemen are truly heroes.

Turning 40

Is 40 the new 30 or are we just fooling ourselves (or filling ourselves) with Botox?

I turned 40 on October 25th of 2012, though it's still hard for me to believe. FORTY. It's such a dirty word. Still. Really? I didn't think so. I thought that all changed. I don't feel old. I actually feel like I'm 26. I have no idea why I chose 26, just sounds like a good number, I guess.

When you tell people you're 20-something or thirty-something they say things like, "Oh, you're still a youngin'" or "You have so much more life to live." When your response to the question of how old you are is "Forty", drop that F-bomb and step back because you get hit with all sorts of ammunition; it can feel like laser-like shots from a water gun filled straight from the garden hose on a hot summer day and just as shockingly cold. You may hear, with jaw in dropped position: "WOW!" or "Really?!" or "You look good for your age", "I would have never guessed FORTY", but never, "You're still so young!" Those days are gone, my fine forty friends.

Something happened between October 24th and October 25th of last year. I became old. I turned. I spoiled; passed my expiration date if you will. It must be the whole female biological clock thing. Mine is ticking exactly as it should be, with the precision of a Timex. I feel great. No complaints.

What upsets me is the double standard going on here, as men who are 40 can snatch up much younger women. Although I do receive advances from men who are in their 20's, I just don't see that ever working and I never take those boys (sorry boys) seriously. Impossible. Poor Demi Moore. I don't blame Ashton a bit. He was just too young to be able to see into the future. He's like a big kid and he wants kids. Demi just couldn't be there for him in that way but me, I still have time. Hey, Ashton? How YOU doin'? Kidding. I'm much more of a Justin Timberlake fan. Maybe it's my touring days that affect that decision but JT wins, hands down. That man has got some soul, depth and incredible talent.

So, my fine-feathered forties, we all get so caught up in day-to-day "stuff" with the job, house, kids, marriage, divorce, what have you and we sometimes forget to check in with ourselves.

Here are a couple of things I think about and if you recently turned 40 like I did, some of these things might be helpful to remember:

* Feel proud (hey, you've been alive a loooooong time ;))
* Eat lots of veggies
* Hydrate inside with water, outside with almond or coconut oil
* Look forward and be present
* Forgive your family/friends (hey, who knows how long we all have left? Ha!)
* Sleep 8 hours per night
* Set goals
*Tick something off your bucket list
*Be generous of yourself
* Be kind in everything you do
* Kiss and hug your children
*Make children if you don't yet have any (they're pretty cool)
*Know the difference between saying "I love you" and actions of love and act, damn it. Act!
* Learn something new (the art of basket weaving, perhaps?)
* Breathe deeply
*Call your friends
*Make appointments with yourself
* Stretch your body
* Open your mind
*Listen
* Don't put anything off
*Save for retirement
* Start today!

I feel now that after these forty years on earth, I know myself better than ever. My goals and intentions are clear. My path has never been without bumps and twists, but that has been the path of my life and always will be. I crave chaos and don't feel comfortable without it. Now that I know that about myself, I am much more at peace. So, while I don't know exactly how to get there, or which mountain range I must climb in order to reach my goals, I know where I'm going to end up. I'm smarter, more confident, more filled with love than ever.

For everyone I know who recently turned 40, happy birthday. Here's to the next 40. Let's do this thing!

Ode To The Working Mom

I wrote this all this morning

It's what I had to do

No one understands this plight

Except, of course, for you

Because you are the working mom

Your cross you have to bear

Pass this one to your friends

And show them that you care...

Ode To The Working Mom

My hands may be un-manicured

But the dogs are fed and walked

"Play with me, please, Mama!"

My daughter often balks

But the laundry's undone

The cat needs the vet

And many more "To Do's"

If I had 5 minutes in the morning, I (maybe) might read the news. 

After a fuss, we race to the bus

I look down to see

I found us both matching outfits

Clean and static free

Yippee!!

Family, neighbors, friends

Often pitching in

So my perfect little one

Can always wear a grin

Makeup's applied at red lights

My hair is such a mess

"I have 3 inch roots!” I cry as I

Pluck pet hair from my dress

No time to eat

No-no, no time for mom

Should I wake up at 5 AM tomorrow?

I ponder my 6 AM alarm, as time; I beg, steal and borrow

I just can't stop, no time at all

I arrive at my client's home

I pop a mint, grab my bag

Oops! DON'T DROP THE GLASS iPhone! 

My office is my car

Between meetings making deals

As I drive, I reach down

And slip off my too-high, high heels

My back is acting up; I really have to hit the gym

I schedule a meeting with myself

The gym says I can't come in

My identity's been stolen; they need a new credit card

I hand it over, pray it goes through

I feel like a tub of lard

I'm finally exercising

Doing something for myself

Wait! Wait! Wait! My daughter's project…

…I left it on the shelf!

I dart home to get it

I "fly" it to the school

I run into the principal

Who takes me for a fool

Home once more, I change my clothes

I have another meeting

That time I just had to myself was little more than fleeting

Now I have some cash in hand

It's time to do some shopping

Food's the only thing I ever have time to buy

It's not like I go club-hopping

HA!

 TODAY ONLY! WITNESS THE BATTLE BETWEEN 

DAIRY BARN AND THE SUPERMARKET

Dairy Barn wins hands down

There's no time to wait in line!

If I had just one wish

It would be for (a lot) more time

I don't need clothes, I don't need shoes

Don't need a Prada bag

"My child should want for nothing", I say

As I view my cheek in the mirror

What's that? A new sag?!

OY!

I used to be pretty, I used to be fun

"What happened?!"I ask the sky.

“If you don't do it, no one will,” says the sky in the reply

"You'll have to slave to just get by."

I try, try-try-try to show myself kindness

As I do to others

But my life, it just won't let me

Hey, I'd-be-on-a-massage-table-right-now, if I had my druthers

I dream and dream and dream in vain

One day that Universe'll hear me

Why can't my car just drive its own darn self

So I can do other things while it steers me?

Clients calling, ow, my neck, the bus is coming home

I have to make it there in time

And make it with a comb

We rush inside to brush and rush back out 

So much "stuff" to do

We have to beat the clock again

Lots of errands, homework, choke-choke down the leftover stew

My friends say…

Can you believe So-And-So cheated on What’s-Her-Name? Have you heard of the tornado?”

I say, “Who? What? Where? What are you talking about? Does this even matter?"

“Oh, God. I just burned the potato!”

MAN!

Well, we have to fit it all in, somehow

We must fit everything

Perhaps when things finally calm down

I’ll catch up with current events in the spring

With so little time available, I choose my sacrifices

No TV for 3 years straight

It’s off my list of vices

Sorry, Babe but I digress; "Mo-no-po-ly at 8!"

Let's play tent and Barbies

And stay up really late

For these are the important moments

When we're looking back

I hope my child remembers, I think

As she walks on my back...hoping to hear a crack...crack...crack...

"OW! Thank you, Honey. Mommy needed that." 

I love you, my child, with all my heart

One day you'll understand

That doing this is sometimes easier when you have four hands.

But this is not the path I walk

For you, I am so sorry

But with food, shelter, clothes and oodles of love

Please, honey. Don't you worry.

Mommy is all right

And you are just perfection

For you are the most important of all

No matter which direction

Life takes us on a journey

Sometimes bumpy, sometimes smooth

No matter what, you are my love

Let's giggle...and show me those new dance moves!

WHOO! 

I kiss your head as we lie in bed

I read a bedtime story

You close your eyes 

"We did it today," I say, in all my glory

For when you smile and sleep with peace 

I feel I've done my job

There is not enough money in the world

To compensate The Working Mom

Roots

It's been one year and 7 months since a vulture swooped down and virtually stole my house for $1.500,000 less than my purchase price. So much has happened since then. It's been a real whirlwind. I've moved twice already which has been hard for my daughter but she is doing extremely well right now. She has lots of friends and she has a smile on her face every day.

I made a conscious decision to slow down with work because although money is great it means nothing when compred to the delicious and endless amounts of  hugs and kisses I get when I spend quality time with my little angel.
My life is in flux, my stuff is in storage, I am somehow simultaneously running two businesses and keeping it together as best I can.  

If you kow me a little bit or even if you don't, you should know that I have a soft spot for living things. I dont kill insects and although I don't have the greenest thumb, when I buy a houseplant I really try to keep it alive. I consider it a lifelong comitment just like my cats who are now 15 and my dogs who range in age from 4-8. When I moved, I took very few belongings beside my clothing and among them were my straggly houseplants. One by one, they seem to be leaving me. I bet they are as sad as I am not having the beautiful home we once had. The light is different here. I had the most gorgeous Mexican Fan Palm. It's leaves spread out like a peacock when they mature. That was the first to go. A few other more non-descript plants that I had purchased for my most gorgeous and fallen home have since bitten the dust and just now at this moment I lost the last one. 

That one was special. It was the first day in the house in June of 2007. I was walking around the acre and a half that was mine for what I didn't know wold be a short time. It was a magical property. Everything was bigger there; greener, more lush than seemingly anywhere else. The previous owner was a gardner and soon I would become inspired to be the same. On that first day while touring the landscape, I came across this broken, twisted piece of bamboo that was lying on the ground. It still had roots attached and looked fairly alive but it was just lying there sideways on top of the earth, looking so helpless. I thought it was a goner but I brought it in the house and gently placed it in a glass of 
water. 

As the subsequent days passed, the bamboo began to perk up and sprout a new leaf. The stem grew strong and hard and the color morphed into a brilliant Preying Mantis shade of green. It was happy there. I went out and purchased a glass container and took some rocks from the garden to fill this vessel which helped to stabilize the fledgling plant. The bamboo grew in my powder room for 3 years. It became more twisted, more interesting and was beginning to become the skinny tree-like specimen it was meant to be. As it flourished I gave it a larger container and added more rocks. Just then it was time to move. The new home was much darker in more ways than one and my bamboo beauty lost some leaves. Then the main branch rotted from the inside out and broke off on moving day to place #2. With this second move, all that was left was the tiniest piece but it was still hanging on. Today I went to care for it and noticed it was hanging over the side of its container, droopy in expression. I gingerly lifted it up to shift the rocks around in an effort to steady it once more and when I did, the plant was in my hand and the roots were stuck in the rocks.

It's so telling of my life right now. No roots are planted. No home to speak of. Perhaps the plant is trying to tell me that I can finally move on from that house; that it is time to find a new home and start fresh. Baggage. I don't like that word except at the airport becuase I adore traveling. But that is what comes to mind now. Baggage. One less thing to move when the time comes. Farewell, my little bamboo friend. 

Lifestyle Tip: Dating After Divorce; Ask, Don’t Talk

Lifestyle Tip: Dating After Divorce; Ask, Don’t Talk

Tired of being alone? Feeling like life is stagnant? Divorce got you down? Get a lot of first dates but no repeat customers? Read on and you might discover why.

Hey, I’m an open kind of a gal and I don’t harbor any secrets so I don’t mind talking about well, just about anything with someone I am meeting for the first time. However, there is one sure-fire way to kill a first date and pretty much guarantee that you will not be seeing that person ever again and that is by talking about past relationships.

Everyone seems to know this so I am not, by any means, saying something new, however few people seem to be able to help themselves. I’ve heard it over and over again. ‘He/She wouldn’t stop talking about the ex and the kids, the money, the house, oh my God. I wanted to hang myself.’

Sometimes the conversation takes a turn in the past love direction because of talks about children or a current living situation but that’s when the conversation should immediately be redirected. Because going down the verbal path of the dreaded “Ex” is like saying, “I never want to see this person sitting across from me ever again.” What happens when one person gets on a roll talking about their broken heart is that the date becomes a therapy session. That person begins talking and talking (and talking) about their marriage, what went wrong, why they hate their ex, how they’ve been wronged and then sometimes even foul language follows. The anger, frustration and years of pent up hostility spew and gush like a broken dam that started with just a crack and within minutes becomes a raging river decimating everything in its path, including your date.

The one who did most of the talking feels relieved and pretty great, so that person thinks the date went well and wants to get together again. The person on the receiving end just gave some free therapy, so why not do it again? Why not?!?!  There is a reason people get paid for therapeutic work and that’s because it is work. No one wants to voluntarily sit there for hours being talked at. I don’t care how good the short ribs and margaritas are.

A first date should be about getting to know the other person. It is healthy to have an innocent curiosity about you when you arrive. Being inquisitive without being interrogative is the best approach. Ask a question then shut up and listen. Don’t comment too much. Ask more questions. Show a genuine interest in wanting to get to know the other person. If the person asks you something like, “So, why did you get a divorce?” I have one word of advice. Avoidance. Say, “Let’s save that for another time. I want to know more about you.”

If you are ready for a new relationship you will be in a healthy place about your past. If you have anger or harbor feelings of persecution then you are not ready, so take down your online profile pronto and go speak to a professional. Take that money you would have spent on your date's martinis and have a sit-down with a recommended therapist. Think only crazy people go to therapy? Think again. Ask your friends. I’m sure at least one of them can give you a good recommendation.

In order for a new relationship to be successful, you should have done the internal work needed to discover what went wrong in your previous relationship(s). You should enter something new with preparedness. You should possess the tools and knowledge which would give you the ability to avoid those mistakes you have made. So, someone’s past should be just that and it doesn’t need to be discussed….at least not until date 10.

In an effort to help men and women who are dating after divorce, I am going to make a list of words and topics that I consider taboo on a first date. These are words that should not be spoken and if you catch yourself or your date uttering any of these words or topics, redirect the path of conversation immediately, if not sooner:

Ex

Wife

Husband

Court

Custody

Maintenance (unless your own a condo or you are speaking of your grooming habits)

Alimony (they call this maintenance now so you’d be dating yourself)

Support (unless you are a supportive individual and you are speaking of the future)

Any foul language

God

Religion

Politics

Money

Work

Here are things that should be discussed:

Food

Hobbies

Interests

Goals

Dreams

Plans for the future

Vacations

Movies

Inspirations and Aspirations

Work

Now, I put work in both categories and I’ll tell you why. If you are an accountant, your date probably won’t want to hear the gory details about what you do. I have much respect for accountants because numbers elude me but adding and subtracting numbers is not all that interesting a topic of conversation so stick to more fun stuff.  If you are J Lo’s accountant, please don’t mention that. Name-dropping on a first date is pretty tacky. Alternatively, if you are a helicopter pilot and work on missions rescuing polar bears or if you parachute out of planes bringing medicine and supplies to the people of the rainforest who are now homeless due to deforestation, then please, let’s talk about work. If your work is also your passion and you have a lot to say about that with interesting stories, yes, your date will be fascinated by you.

But as I previously stated, your date will go much more smoothly if you “Ask, Don’t Talk.” If you truly enjoy the company of the person you are with and they feel that you are interested in them, you just may have a lifetime to get to know them and they you. 

Wishing much success to you all and happy dating. 

A Single Woman in Business

Boy, am I glad I got rid of all the blonde in my hair. Whew! Sure, blondes have more fun but I don't have time for fun much these days. I am all business and the need to be taken seriously in an almost completely male-dominated business is of the utmost importance to me. 

Men design furniture. Men sell furniture. Men own the furniture companies and factories. They supervise, paint, upholster and slipcover. And fugghetabout when I am involved in a construction project. I'm surrounded. It's an ambush! Cover me! I'm goin' in. I love and absolutely adore men so I really don't mind, however, men don't design with women in mind. They can't. How could they? How many successful women are out there with lines of tidy whities or suit jackets? Razors or nose hair trimmers? We would never try to perfect those items. So why is it that men design things like stoves, cars, sofas and kitchen tables that can't be properly cleaned? WHYYYYYYYYY?!?!

In an attempt to remedy this situation on my end, I am taking this furniture business by the reigns and I plan on eventually developing my own line of furniture but for now, my main source of income comes from selling other people's gorgeous designs (I only sell things that I 1,000,000% have seen, touched, felt and believe in, by the way). My furniture website, www.discountdesignerfurnishings.com has been doing amazingly well and I am very blessed; so well, in fact that I am selling furniture nationwide to the masses and I need to expand into a showroom with office space. And the place I am opening up in Cold Spring Harbor, NY will be AWESOME!

75 Main St in Cold Spring Harbor is called The 1790 House. It is apparently one of the most haunted buildings on Long Island, so ghost hunters come on over!

I just opened my fourth singularly owned and operated business and I am a single mom. My accountant says in the extremely near future I will be the highest grossing sole proprietorship/client he has (with no employees and almost no overhead). This is what he says and knock on...I'm surrounded by fluffy pillows right now so there is no wood to knock on but I've never been the superstitious type. I have opened umbrellas inside the house hundreds of times. I live on the edge that way. Oh, yeah! My accountant is right. First of all I am equally talented a designer as my fancy dancy North Shore competition but secondly I am less expensive. I mean really, really less expensive. Designers typically charge retail for furniture and some even add an additional 20% on top as a finder's fee. Me? Never. I give 20%-70% off on my furniture. How do I do it? Volume!! I have been selling out of my house for 2 years now and I sell more furniture than the local stores. Word of mouth is just starting to work and my phone number is becoming a coveted secret. Some of my clients won't give my name out because they don't want their friends to know they can afford to hire an interior designer. I'm serious. This has happened to me many times. 

Anywho, it's hard to be a single mom and it's hard to be a creative person and a business person all at once. I very often feel like I am 3 or 4 people throughout the day when I have to switch hats. And no, I'm not clinically insane, this is all figurative, of course. My only enemy is time. Unless Prince Charming hires me to design his living room I just may be able to dance with him at the ball. I've had to do a lot of Home Depot runs lately for clients and I do apply a fresh layer of lip gloss before entering The Big H, but everyone shopping there always seems to be married and most have very large bellies. Sorry, guys. :-)

Despite the singleness, everything else is going extremely well. My daughter is happy! She actually had me buy her a t-shirt that says, "Happy Camper" in big letters. It was a long haul after her dad and I ended our relationship but she finally understands that she has two parents who love her deeply and we work together to raise the most amazing child we can. She is turning out to be a truly wonderful person and I couldn't be more proud. 

My life is incredible at times and this time, shortly before my 40th birthday, is no exception. So many exciting things are happening. My website, my showroom, my numerous offers to be on TV. It's wild! I have been approached three times in a year to have the opportunity to have my own design show. With my acting and performing experience I would be perfect for that! I don't have my own show yet but something is in the cards for me. The universe is giving me many gifts and I am graciously accepting them. The Universe is bountiful and abundant. 

Speaking of bountiful, I am always working with multiple clients at one time and I am so grateful for every client that comes into my life. I cherish every project and give it my all. Some projects, as you may imagine, involve designing one room and some a whole house. I have three dogs and two cats. How do I get it all done? That's the question I am asked most often. My days are measured in seconds. I don't ever do one thing at a time. I am one of the best multi-taskers one could meet. I apply makeup in the car. I enjoy "fine dining" at local gas stations; thank goodness they now sell things like apples and hard-boiled eggs. I pay extra for full-serve so while my gas is pumping I can run in and grab something healthy to eat. I live in my car. I run places. I wear flip-flops as much as possible (not the toxic kind). I study traffic patterns and know short-cuts. I always keep floss in my purse. Haven't watched TV in 3 years. Pop culture and current events elude me but I do know where to get the coolest coffee tables! I rush through every part of my day except when it comes to my family and my clients, though things like laundry and cooking have been completely removed from the back burner. That pan was about to burst into flames. Had to be done. 

I go, I do, I run. I am a woman of action. If there is something not working, I change it. I can't stand when people complain about something when there is a solution. I'm much more of a guy in that way. You have a problem? Stop yer whining already. Let's fix it!

Anyway, with all the running and doing, I started having heart palpitations. Then I woke up one morning three weeks ago and couldn't move my left arm. I had excruciating pain and thought I was having a heart attack. Very long story and a few specialists later, I was diagnosed with stress. My wonderful doctor told me to get a babysitter and sip some gin and tonics. What a prescription! I much prefer dirty martinis but the point was well taken. It is now day two of the new, more relaxed me and I feel so much better. I've never been much of a drinker but yesterday I enjoyed a margarita and today a glass of red wine. I breathed more and took my time with daily activities when feasible. Life should have a balance and I am seeking that right now. It is a process, for sure. Writing has always been something I really enjoy, so here I am. I am putting it out there into the universe that I will work smarter, not harder and I will find time and money to do things I enjoy. I am also tossing it out there that I will meet a wonderful person who cares for me as much as I do him. 

And I will dream about that tonight. Oh, it's 3:36 AM already so tonight has passed. Client meeting at 10:30. Family party at 1. Have to get a card, pick up cat food, research furniture, optimize the new site, create two purchase orders, attend a mini-golf event. Ok, okaaaay. Got that all out. Exhale. So now I can rest peacefully and it will all get done in due time. And maybe Monday will be a manicure day. 

My mind wanders...There are so many things I want to do in this life; most of which involve money, hence the working-my-butt-off (though I wish I could do that literally). I want to build a house. I want to live in California. I want to see Africa, Asia and all of the parts of Europe I have never explored. I want to see where my family is from in Scilla, Italy. I want to go to St. Barth's and sprinkle my Uncle David's ashes in the ocean there, as was his request when he passed suddenly and too soon at age 40. I want to go to Brazil, see the rainforest and then help save it. I want to swim with dolphins; rent a helicopter and rescue drowning polar bears. And my daughter should accompany me on every trip. Take it from someone who has seen a lot of the world; it's amazing, eye-opening, thrilling and everyone should have the opportunity to do it. It breeds tolerance, increases awareness, grows knowledge, wisdom and a greater sense of humanity. So important!

I just opened my fourth singularly owned and operated business and I am a single mom. My accountant says in the extremely near future I will be the highest grossing sole proprietorship/client he has (with no employees and almost no overhead). I will soon be a millionaire, says he and knock on...I'm surrounded by fluffy pillows right now so there is no wood to knock on but I've never been the superstitious type. I have opened umbrellas inside the house hundreds of times. I live on the edge that way. Oh, yeah! 

It's hard to be single but it's even more frustrating to not have the time to leave the house, office or client meeting to be able to meet someone. Unless Prince Charming hires me to design his living room I just may be alone forever. I've had to do a lot of Home Depot runs lately for clients and I do apply a fresh layer of lip gloss before entering The Big H, but everyone shopping there always seems to be married and most have very large bellies. Sorry, guys. :-)

Despite the singleness, everything else is going extremely well. My daughter is happy! She actually had me buy her a t-shirt that says, "Happy Camper" in big letters. It was a long haul after her dad and I ended our relationship but she finally understands that she has two parents who love her deeply and we work together to raise the most amazing child we can. She is turning out to be a truly wonderful person and I couldn't be more proud. 

My life is incredible at times and this time, shortly before my 40th birthday, is no exception. So many exciting things are happening. I have been approached three times in a year to have the opportunity to have my own design show on TV. With my acting and performing training and experience I would be perfect for that! I don't have my own show yet but something is in the cards for me. The universe is giving me many gifts and I am graciously accepting them.

In addition to my interior design business, I also have a furniture website, an Amazon store and I will have a beautiful showroom opening in July of 2012. I am always working with multiple clients at one time, some projects involve designing one room and some a whole house. I have three dogs and two cats. How do I get it all done? That's the question I am asked most often. My days are measured in seconds. I don't ever do one thing at a time. I am one of the best multi-taskers one could meet. I apply makeup in the car. I enjoy "fine dining" at local gas stations; thank goodness they now sell things like apples and hard-boiled eggs. I pay extra for full-serve so while my gas is pumping I can run in and grab something healthy to eat. I live in my car. I run places. I wear flip-flops as much as possible (not the toxic kind). I study traffic patterns and know short-cuts. I always keep floss in my purse. Haven't watched TV in 3 years. Pop culture and current events elude me but I do know where to get the coolest coffee tables! I rush through every part of my day except when it comes to my family and my clients, though things like laundry and cooking have been completely removed from the back burner. That pan was about to burst into flames. Had to be done. 

I go, I do, I run. I am a woman of action. If there is something not working, I change it. I can't stand when people complain about something when there is a solution. I'm much more of a guy in that way. You have a problem? Stop yer whining already. Let's fix it!

Anyway, with all the running and doing, I started having heart palpitations. Then I woke up one morning three weeks ago and couldn't move my left arm. I had excruciating pain and thought I was having a heart attack. Very long story and a few specialists later, I was diagnosed with stress. My wonderful doctor told me to get a babysitter and sip some gin and tonics. What a prescription! I much prefer dirty martinis but the point was well taken. It is now day two of the new, more relaxed me and I feel so much better. I've never been much of a drinker but yesterday I enjoyed a margarita and today a glass of red wine. I breathed more and took my time with daily activities when feasible. Life should have a balance and I am seeking that right now. It is a process, for sure. Writing has always been something I really enjoy, so here I am. I am putting it out there into the universe that I will work smarter, not harder and I will find time and money to do things I enjoy. I am also tossing it out there that I will meet a wonderful person who cares for me as much as I do him. 

And I will dream about that tonight. Oh, it's 3:36 AM already so tonight has passed. Client meeting at 10:30. Family party at 1. Have to get a card, pick up cat food, research furniture, optimize the new site, create two purchase orders, attend a mini-golf event. Ok, okaaaay. Got that all out. Exhale. So now I can rest peacefully and it will all get done in due time. And maybe Monday will be a manicure day. 

Refinish Your Furniture!

Repurpose, Reuse, Repaint

Whenever I buy furniture, I buy real wood; I mean the real deal. Wood.Very sturdy and manly. Say it like a caveman would say it. Wood. Haha! No made in China stuff for me over here. Why? Well, because it looks better, feels better and lasts longer, yes. But there is another reason...a much more girly reason. And I am sooo girly. Because YOU CAN CHANGE THE COLOR OF IT WHENEVER YOU WANT! New furniture for a few dollars' worth of paint. 

Can't beat that!

Don't throw away good quality furniture. There is nothing wrong with his dresser below. It just looked a little tired.

BEFORE

A little paint and some new knobs and you are good to go...

AFTER

 ,,,and this tired old dresser is beautiful again!

Love picking out the color and hardware but don't want to do the work? Me neither. Who needs work?

This makeover was designed by me and refinished by the hands of Bob Schendorf of Huntington, NY.

www.bobschendorfwoodworking.com

This makeover is wonderful also. 

Before we had a piece that is very important to the homeowner because it is a family treasure yet it didn't quite fit in with the more contemporary decor in the rest of her home. 

After, we have a fresh and contemporary piece, blending in perfectly with the rest of the home. 

And if you need to buy something new, check out my furniture store, www.discountdesignerfurnishings.com where you can peruse manufacturer's sites, choose what you like, 

request a price quote and save hundreds to thousands of dollars.