I Promise to Love (check), Honor (check), and Obey (ch . . . wait! What the . . .?)

I saw a headline the other day that Kate Middleton is refusing to say "obey" in her vows. I was rather put out by the notion that this is news. It seems to me it should be news if a woman does agree to "obey" her husband these days. It is a ridiculous and archaic custom and makes me think the standard wedding vows should really be overhauled for the modern age.

I know a lot of couples already replace obey with something like cherish, respect, or some other choice word. And, that's fine. But, there's a whole lot in the traditional vows that does not reflect modern relationships. To have and to hold, til death do us part, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer. Honestly, I don't think any of this really captures the promises I want out of my partner. Sure, one could argue they cover the big stuff and if not in letter, certainly in spirit, address the important things. The trouble with that is, if you can loosely define how those rules apply, you can just as loosely interpret them so they don't apply.

I've had a friend staying with me for a few months and, while I am very grateful for everything they do to help around the house, it's honestly making me crazy! Not unlike when I was bed-ridden after my appendectomy and my mom had to help around the house. As well intentioned as people might be, they don't know where things go and they don't know how you do things.

Now, I know this is going to make me sound like an inflexible shrew who probably shouldn't get married (and I'm not prepared to vigorously argue that point with you); however, I feel I should be allowed to defend myself. I have EXTREMELY limited storage space in a VERY small kitchen. That means, in order to function well and produce what I must, it is necessary to be creative. Things have a specific place where they reside. It's important. You can't just put them anywhere. That creates avalanches when you try to get to something or clutter on the precious, prime real estate of my countertops.

I'm also limited in storage throughout my house, so I fold laundry in a certain way for space-saving reasons, not because I'm plagued with OCD. I also have a routine that helps me keep track of all I have to do as a single mother managing a whole host of responsibilities a lot of people already get to share with a partner. Yes, I recognize some of these issues would change as households are merged, but not necessarily for the better.

So, all of this is leading up to an updated set of vows for the "already established" or "late-in-life" bride or groom. These are the promises you can make and expect from your partner, should you venture into that sketchy territory.

I, insert name, take you, insert name, to be the latest addition to my world. I promise to make room for you on a schedule that we can both live with, to modify my habits to prevent conflict, so long as it doesn't compromise my ability to function in my (our) hectic life (together). If you promise not to try to put things away without direct supervision, I promise to teach you how to be the most efficient version of yourself possible. I commit to remaining the obnoxiously independent person you fell in love with and will not ask you to change the same about yourself. In fact, I promise to work toward the ability to buy a house with a wing for each of us, or multiple homes so we can maintain personal space. With all my love, from this day forward I give you access to my world on a level no one else is privileged to know.

Yes, I realize this is rather cynical, hardly romantic, and somewhat dismissive. It is not my intention to diminish any vows anyone has already taken. I'm just saying, for me (and perhaps others out there), the ideals of marriage promised in those long-spoken words don't really work. It's unbelievably tough to imagine sharing your world with someone after being relatively autonomous in it for the majority of your adult life.

Practicality tends to win out over romance once you get past the honeymoon anyway. Why not start at the ceremony calling a spade a spade. Recognize that you are set in your ways, and don't apologize for that. To be successful in relationships late in life, you have to be willing to recognize your limitations and those of your partner and be willing to work around them, because you're DEFINITELY NOT going to change them. For those who start early enough to grow and form living habits together, this isn't an issue; but, for those who haven't had to consider the needs of others in their personal space, it's an adjustment. Just keep that in mind.

Super-Size Me!

I am a big advocate for changing our food system. I support in every way I can the movement toward getting our food from local and sustainable sources. It is an issue that has been gaining a lot of attention thanks to Jamie Oliver, and I hope it will see nationwide success. (And, I hope, through the efforts of my friend Jeremy Barlow, who happens to run his restaurant that way and is writing a book on the subject now.) The thing is, there is an obesity epidemic in this country and there are other contributing factors. For one, we are really lazy and don't get an appropriate amount of activity.

But, an even more significant component (which isn't being addressed) is our issues with portion control, and there are two main factors here: 1) Gluttony - we have the misconception that to get our money's worth, we must be provided a platter of food that has three times more than a human should consume in a day, much less one meal. 2) Chewing - I have been observing a lot of people for some time and have come to realize no one actually chews their food anymore. We pop open the flip-top and dump it down our throats.

There are a number of things that would happen if we could just change this one practice. First, we would actually taste our food. Imagine that! When that happens, we are satiated much sooner and have less tendency to over-eat. It also allows us to actually break down the food we consume and get the vital nutrients from it. Swallowing our food whole prevents us from enjoying it or benefiting from it.

So, now you're probably wondering what all of this has to do with relationship advice. Well . . . nothing. This has become the proverbial fly in my ointment and I wanted to blog about it. I suppose if you need something to justify this rant being here . . . Your health matters! Your vitality, vim, and vigor have an impact on the enjoyment of your lives. It is important to do everything you can to ensure this is a well-oiled machine. Those who care about you want to see that you are around for a long time.

The only things that should be "Biggie" sized are your heart (not the actual organ, mind you), your personality, and your awareness of what you mean to others and what they mean to you. We could all stand to scale back our consumption of everything but love and laughter. (Yes, I went a little hippie on you there.)

I know I hijacked this post to preach a little. Well, to preach a little off-topic. But, it seemed important. So, just slow down and savor your food. Heck! Savor every part of life. You'll thank me for it later.

Shadow Boxing

During the early 90s I frequented a dance club downtown. It was one of the few cool places to go at the time. This morning I woke up remembering a particular guy who was also a regular there. I don't recall his name, but I could see him very vividly in my mind's eye. I was quite intrigued by him, and he was oh so mysterious. Tall, good-looking, great style, and was a great dancer. He did a style of dance -- shadow boxing -- that I'd only seen at the raves in London up to that point. No one else in Nashville was doing it. I was mesmerized.

One night I gathered the courage to talk to him, totally prepared to swoon. I told him I liked the way he danced. I'm not sure what I was expecting . . . but, when he opened his mouth, he COMPLETELY destroyed the illusion. I was devastated. And, much to my dismay, he was happy to talk to me! Between the thick southern drawl and his inability to actually make interesting conversation, I watched my cute little fantasy evaporate before my eyes.

It was just like a scene out of a movie. You know, the one where the Adonis emerges from the pool all shiny and muscular and luscious, he smiles as he saunters by and you are in heaven. Then he utters some kind of unholy squawking and it becomes clear the steroids shriveled some really important stuff. Or, the man at the end of the bar, who is so divinely coiffed, perfectly put together, seems like a successful professional. When he buys you a drink, you're elated, but a few minutes into chatting you up he reveals he's a bigoted pig who is living in his mother's basement. And, for all my male readers out there, it's the super model gliding through the crowd at a party. She chooses to land next to you and suddenly you feel you can conquer the world . . . until you discover that her vapid nonsense is sucking the air out of the room.

The thing is, there are certainly things that are universally appealing. We will daydream about them. We are sucked in by these fanciful images. We concoct a god-like entity as we elevate them higher and higher on a pedestal in our imaginations. We think beauty will permeate every cell of their being, and it usually doesn't. Our delusions tend to come with pesky, unexpected caveats, which are disappointing at best, earth-shattering at worst.

It's our ignis fatuus. The words themselves have an elusive, fantastic quality about them, don't they? It means: a deceptive goal or hope. Also described as "a light that sometimes appears in the night over marshy ground." Evokes a lovely, etherealness, doesn't it? BUT, here's the other part of that definition -- the one that shatters the illusion -- it's usually caused by gas emitted from decaying organic material. The ground farts and it makes pretty fumes. How's that for destroying the dream?

So, here's the message: The next time you catch yourself being overcome by the elusive chimera you long for from afar, remember it's a facade. And, the next time you find you've been comparing (and belittling) yourself, wondering why you can't achieve that impossible standard, make a closer inspection. There are cracks in that veneer.

We all idolize, fantasize, and idealize. It's natural. Just don't let it take away from your reality.

Charlie's Angels

I think it was Margaret Cho who said in her stand-up routine that whenever three girlfriends are together, the Charlie's Angel principle applies. That means you will always find the smart one, the sweet one, and the whore. I may be sketchy on the origin of this concept, but I'll never forget the response of my friend when we heard this. She eagerly started around the room, "So she's the smart one, you (meaning me) are the sweet one, and . . . oh, wait! That makes me the whore!"

Though she was more than a little deflated at that realization, I don't think it's that big a deal. The truth is every woman has a little of each in her. One might be more pronounced in a given scenario or at a particular stage in life. In fact, I'd say the one that is dominant will probably determine the state of your romantic life at the time. And, it's only when you reach the point that you can fully embrace the trinity that you are truly yourself.

Allow me to make some sweeping generalizations and gross stereotypes for a moment to make a point.

The "Smart One," well, we know she is going to intimidate the hell out of every man. It will be hard for her to find someone compatible who will measure up to her expectations, keep up with her, and not feel emasculated.

The "Sweet One" will either fall victim to a series of bad relationships because she won't stand up for herself, or she won't date at all because she isn't capable of asserting herself to grab someone's attention.

The "Whore." Do we really have to go any further? Obviously, we can recite the "milk-cow-free" warning, but, honestly, what woman wants to be compared to a cow, even the ones with little self-respect, and when has it ever really worked?

So, my point is, when you allow yourself to be one-dimensional, you run the risk of being categorized, reduced to a cliche, and have assumptions applied to you. None of us, even if we lean to one type or another, is so simply defined. We all have layers -- upbringing, personal experiences, environmental factors -- that make us more than what we appear on the surface, something beyond the label of "smart," "sweet," or "slut."

The truth is, I think we all imagine being able to be a little more of one or the other that we don't think we embody. These terms actually characterize us unfairly. Being smart is not a bad thing, but what if you were called savvy instead? Having people say you are sweet isn't an insult, but what if they chose the word endearing? A whore gets a bit of a bad rap, but what if the alternative was coquettish?

On the playground, we chose for ourselves, or were assigned a role when playing "Charlie's Angels." You might have been Kelly when you really wanted to be Jill. Or maybe Sabrina was your idol, but someone else got her, so you were stuck with Kris. As adults, it is important to realize, you should be the one to decide who you are, which Angel you identify with most, and when you can transition between them.

Remember: they were a team and no mission was successful without all their talents put to work in unison.

Fact, Fiction, or Faction?

So, my friend and I have both been in the unpleasant state of job-hunting lately. Talking with him yesterday, I explained that one of my biggest struggles with the whole job search is that I am not one to "inflate" or "pad" my resume. I will not talk up my attributes beyond what I feel is accurate. Yes, I understand that probably does not do me any favors, but I am less afraid of poverty than I am of talking my way into a job beyond my abilities.

I pitch my reality and if that's not enough, so be it. I had the happy occasion today to have an interview for which I was able to truthfully report personal success in every area that would be required of the position. I could honestly say, "I've done this and I've done it well. I am what you need, and what you want."

What does all of this have to do with relationship advice, you ask? Well, how often do we fall victim to the same pressure in dating? I find it really intriguing that I don't have that same confidence to say to someone who interests me: "I am what you need, and what you want." How often do any of us feel sure enough of who we are and what we have to offer to lay it down with such gusto? Or do we have a tendency to over-compensate and swing too far in the other direction? Do we over-promise and under-deliver?

In this age of online dating, the digital format of "getting to know one another" creates a perfect environment for that. In fact, I'd venture to say that it is a rarity to find a profile that is completely accurate. Don't get me wrong, just as with a job interview, you want to put your best foot forward, make a good impression.

You wouldn't show up to pitch yourself for a coveted spot with a prized company wearing your breakfast-stained pajamas and tell them you probably won't show up 27% of the time. In the same vein, who is going to choose for their profile pic the accidental snapshot taken by the phone when it dropped? Or fill out that ridiculous questionnaire on a day when you are sick, fresh out of a break-up, or PMS-ing?

Everyone wants to make a good impression, and that's important. The key is that you present the best version of your true self, not a distorted fabrication of who you think they want you to be. Perhaps, a little faction is in order -- that perfect blend of truth with a flourish.

So, ask yourself: How honest do you expect someone to be? What omitted bits of information (however dull) are a deal breaker? Is it better to be a story-teller or an accountant? Do you want the raw numbers or is it okay to gild the occasional lily?

Fixer-Upers

Well, my blog about Barbie prompted some interesting discussion about what men and women really want. It got me thinking about the expectations we set out before us as we start dating. We have standards -- physical and personality features that are a must, social status or ideals we can't live without. We start out with a mental checklist, or if we are online dating, a profile that takes three hours to fill out.

As time goes by we start to whittle away at those requirements and maybe tall, dark, and handsome becomes average height, darkish, and good-looking. At some point, if we haven't found "him" it might be reduced to at least taller than me, what was the dark about anyway?, and it's not about the external beauty.

Yes, we start to settle. And, that's not necessarily a bad thing as long as we are not compromising on the things that really make a relationship work, the things that make for true compatibility. When we agree to a relationship with someone who doesn't measure up, the truth is it is usually with the ill-conceived notion that we can change them. It makes me want to scream what I do in horror movies: "DON'T GO IN THAT ROOM!!"

It's like going into a merger that is supposedly mutually beneficial only to find out half the existing staff is eliminated as soon as the contracts are signed and S.O.P. is completely overridden. You can't do inter-personal relationships like a hostile take-over. It is important to recognize that people are flawed and you can either live with it or you can't. If the other person is also cognizant of their short-comings and wants to make those changes, you are encouraged to be there and support them in their efforts. But, marriage/life-time commitment is not about buying a fixer-uper.

The thing is, people don't change unless it is truly in their hearts to do so. If you choose someone who isn't right for you, hoping you can make them so, you will have a life of disappointment. You will find yourself retiring with someone you don't like and the only thing you have in common is a shared history of misery.

Being alone or dating through your 40s is not fun, but how can settling be any better? I'm very particular and I refuse to settle. But, I also don't think I'm unrealistic. Here's my list. He must:

• be intelligent enough to keep up with me in conversation,
• have my same strange sense of humor that is a combination of adolescent absurdity and intellectual banter,
• have integrity and a sense of social justice,
• be strong enough that he isn't pushed around by me (or anyone else) but wise enough to know how to pick his battles,
• be kind and gentle but with an edge,
• have, or at least be okay with, tattoos,
• be taller than I am (my only shallow requirement).

There may not be anyone who can measure up and I may end up single for the rest of my life, but I know this: I'm too busy raising one boy to be a man to try and overhaul one who should already be there.

So, what are your expectations? What shapes them? What informs them? What causes you to modify them? And probably most important of all, what are your expectations for yourself? Are you living up to them? Should you reevaluate, and perhaps, elevate them? Is the person most in need of change you?

Barbie: Get Real, Honey!

This morning I posted a link on Facebook:

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/42595605/ns/today-today_people/

It precipitated quite a few outraged responses about the notion that this life-sized Barbie represented what was attractive to men. Interestingly enough, none of the responses were from women. To my male friends I would say the following:

You are all quite noble in your defense of the "average-sized" woman. But, the image in the media persists for a reason. Women still flock in droves to have their bodies mutilated to reflect certain standards established by Hollywood because they are inescapable. The truth is, this might be an exaggeration, but not by a lot. We are led to believe we must have a tiny waist, huge breasts, legs that go on for days, and an ass you can bounce a quarter off of. I don't believe it's a few women perpetuating those unattainable dimensions to make the rest of us miserable.

Until we send a very clear message to the PTB that women of all shapes and sizes ARE beautiful, that our movie and tv stars don't have to be a size zero with a special bra made to fit their F-cup chest, and until we stop making the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue the best-selling periodical of each year, this demand will continue.

Men, and women, it's time to put your money where your mouth is. Stop buying fashion magazines that insist on creating fashions that only work on a 5'9" and 115lb. body. Stop renting porn that features women with a 20" waist and a 40" bust. Stop watching television shows when you notice the starlettes shrinking before your very eyes. Stop supporting this industry that makes us feel inferior for being in the majority.

I am, for the first time in my adult life, what would be called average, based on the clothing size I wear. I battle myself to reconcile that with the number on the scale and how I actually feel in my skin. Yet, I look at the images shoved in front of me and catch myself thinking "Oh, I have so far to go!" That is wrong. My primary concern should (and really is most of the time) be: Am I healthy? In fact, that should be the only question any of us ever ask ourselves.

Next, start telling your wives, girlfriends, sisters, mothers they really are beautiful the way they are. Start supporting their efforts to get healthy, not skinny. Start letting your daughters know it's okay to eat like a normal, healthy kid. Start sending the message that a size 12-14 is sexy.

So, friends, while I appreciate your assurances that this stacked & packed Barbie holds no appeal for you, please keep that in mind the next time you think Tom Brady is so lucky. Gisele is probably a raging bitch because she can't eat a freakin' slice of pizza for fear of becoming unemployable.

This one's for you! (You know who you are!)

I posted on my status this morning that I'd recently learned Facebook has a feature that, in essence, allows you to cyber-stalk your friends. Aside from the uber-creepyness of that whole concept, I find it more than a little disturbing that we are so lazy now that even psycho-obsessive behavior doesn't require getting out from behind the laptop. But, I digress . . . .

The point of this blog (because I promised someone I would do one today) is about obsessing. I think the title of this blog will be a big clue to you about what tendency you have toward obsessing. If you spend more than a nano-second wondering if you are the person to whom I am referring, you might be an obsessor. See what I did there? Have fun with that today!!!

Seriously, in terms of relationships, I think this tendency is one of the worst for driving a wedge between you and those you love. And, we are all prone to doing it. We become absorbed with the tiniest of most insignificant things that were said or not said, done or not done. Girls, it is a time-tested tradition that men believe we are elephant-like in our memory of every little detail. The stereotype persists that we cling to every miniscule misstep or omission like a hoarder, stockpiling them for a future date when we just might need to use that minor infraction against them.

Now, obviously there are some issues that escape the attention of men which should not be overlooked. They are, afterall (so stereotypically) non-observant oafs who wouldn't notice the elephant in the room if she sat on his lap. However, more times than not, if you have to tell him what he "did wrong," it probably isn't worth mentioning. Sometimes it comes down to a matter of perspective and who is being hyper-sensitive. (No, that's not just directed at the female readers. Boys can be overly sensitive too.)

It all boils down to picking your battles. As a parent we quickly learn the importance of this lesson or risk losing our sanity. Sometimes saying "no" because that is your routine answer isn't the best approach. Sometimes making a federal case out of something perpetuates discord that is totally unnecessary. With your children and your significant others . . . trying not to be gender biased here . . . it is often more effective to let some things slide as long as no one was physically harmed, no laws or moral codes were broken, and it's really no skin off your nose to let it go. Especially when harping on it isn't going to get the desired result anyway.

Why not start practicing now. This will be your mantra . . . Let it go! Let it go! Let it go! . . . It's amazing what releasing some of that baggage will do for your relationship. If you make a habit of ignoring one meaningless bit of minutae every day, you'll find you feel less like an elephant -- lighter and less encumbered by burdens you don't need to carry with you.

So, here's to letting it go on occasion. Here's to allowing your obsessions to fade into obsolescence just like the sickeningly-sweet cologne by Calvin Klein.

I've Got a Hunger (Not a Fever)

Perhaps the way to a man's heart is not through his stomach, but his hunger.

Sounds like some age-old wisdom, doesn't it? I'm not embarrassed to say that's mine. I came up with that when I was about 20 years old. There is very little I thought or said at that age that is actually worth retaining, but this one is a keeper. It has continued to prove to be true.

Let's break it down. The original saying goes: The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Of course that was a ringing endorsement for the type of woman our mothers and grandmothers were encouraged to be. It was vital to succeed in your Home Ec. classes so you could be recommended as a great cook. Even in this day and age I have had more than one person say about me, "I can't believe you are still single when you are such a good cook!"

REALLY??!! That's a preposterous notion. My feminist side is grossly offended by the suggestion that my culinary skills should have helped me land a man because that's what makes a good wife. Although, my inner chef is flattered by the idea that I'm that good. Of course, it's ironic. We all know men still secretly want women to be "a maid in the living room, a cook in the kitchen, and a whore in the bedroom." Yet, somehow the ability to navigate your way around a four-burner stove does not seem to hold the same currency it once did.

So, my thinking is it's not just their stomachs, it's their hunger to which you must appeal. But, here's the tricky part: There is no way of defining, identifying, or explaining what distinguishes a man's hunger from his cravings. But, they are often quite different. This is the choice between what they want and what they need. And, frequently what will be most fulfilling loses to what will be instantly pleasing. Though you may have the bigger portion of his heart, there may still be another woman, man, object to get his affection or his passion.

But, it isn't enough just to tell him what you think he wants to hear. You really have to give him what he is lacking. If they are looking to be mothered, you have to put on the apron. If they are in need of discipline, you must don the stilettos and whip. If they want to find their best friend, you'll be sporting a team jersey. Identifying that need and fulfilling it is essential. .

But, is there a way to make the sustenance have the appeal of the dessert? Can you elevate brussels sprouts to the level of chocolate cake? (Incidentally, I have converted many people to brussels sprout fans. Literally. I'm not hinting at some metaphorical prowess in this instance.)

Well, all I can really say is that is the challenge before you and that, my friends, is what separates the chefs from the cooks, the women from the girls.

With that, I'll leave you with this song by Nicolai Dunger:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zj5OIhVKNWc

But It Won't Keep You Warm At Night . . .

I saw an article today reporting that scientists are studying the effects of Facebook usage on our release of the hormone Oxytocin -- the "cuddle hormone." It seems we are experiencing a spike in the hormone when we log on and engage in the various activities and services social networking provides. This hormone is linked to all the "feel good" sensations we experience, from increased kindness to orgasm.

The article explained that "the hormone is heightened in a variety of behaviors that involve people connecting with one another." Hmmm. Well, we are connected, even though it's through a 1/2 inch cable with a bunch of wires which work in mysterious ways we can't begin to comprehend.

I wrote a blog recently about the limitations of connecting through social media and how it is stunting our ability to really relate on an inter-personal level. I experienced that first-hand recently. I encountered someone I know, but interact with mostly online, and found them to be incapable of talking about anything but the latest posts. I am all for using something like that as a conversation starter, but when you can't talk about anything but what had transpired on Facebook, there are some serious restrictions on your social interaction skills.

We all need a little assistance now and then to get a conversation going, but we shouldn't need help navigating the whole process. I think this is due to the comfort we find in instantaneous ease of IMs and wall postings. Conversation is fragmented -- hell, it's not even technically conversing since the definition is "an oral exchange of sentiments, observations, opinions, or ideas." It's not that these exchanges can't happen electronically. But, when we receive the same stimulation from an online chat as we once did from a hug, there is something wrong.

The truth is, I don't think this is accurate. I don't believe we do receive the same satisfaction or gratification from these dehumanized forms of communication. It's just that we aren't getting enough of the real thing, so it stands to reason that any stimulus is going to register. When you deprive yourself of sugar, artificial sweeteners taste good and real sugar puts you over the moon.

Yes, I know this analogy has it's problems, such as tooth decay and diabetic coma, but you get my point. We can learn to live with the substitutes and even convince ourselves they are just as good, but the reality is they will never be as satisfying as the real thing. In fact, studies also show that because we convince ourselves we are doing well by using the fake stuff we can have a little more. We end up consuming more fat or salt to replace the missing sugar or more sugar to replace the missing fat, nevermind the exposure to all the unnatural chemicals. Having just a little of the real thing would satiate that need so much more than a vat of the (fill in the blank)-free stuff.

I guess what I'm saying is we can get the warm-fuzzies from seeing the inbox fill-up or having someone "Like" a post, but how does that really take the place of a pat on the back, holding hands, or an embrace? In case you have been lulled into that complacency, the answer is: It doesn't. My laptop is basically attached to my hip, but I wouldn't snuggle up with it at night. Neither should you. Go hug someone today.

(Disclaimer: Use common sense, and should you choose to hug a stranger, the writer of this blog is not responsible for any undesirable outcome. Further, if you have a restraining order against you in place, please do not violate said order by attempting to hug others.)