Kassi's Random Thoughts

Kassi's Random Thoughts--an explanation

2007-01-23T08:11:00.000-08:00

Kassi's Random Thoughts centrally locates a collection of e-mails sent by Kassi to her friends over the period of two years. The e-mails are really articles on life and Kassi's personal thoughts on the topic.

The thoughts posted on this blog were sent faithfully each and every Friday to an ever-growing group of friends and acquaintances. Eventually the email list got too long, and a centralized location to post the "Friday E-mail" was needed. Thus, Kassi's Random Thoughts was born.

To best appreciate these musings, read them in chronological order beginning with those "Random Thoughts" sent in 2004.

Enjoy.

The Final Friday

2006-12-08T07:18:00.000-08:00

"Sometimes moving on with the rest of your life starts with goodbye."
--Starts with Goodbye (Carrie Underwood)

I have used this ritual, now known affectionately as "the Friday email," to discuss various opinions and random theories. Hopefully, you are entertained more often than not, and are prodded, on occasion, to evaluate an interesting viewpoint. I hope that at some point or another all of you have read at least one thing I've written and identified with it so immensely that you felt as if I had written down your own thoughts.

On the other hand, I have long known that words are powerful. I have long realized that because of my own words this Friday e-mail ritual had the potential to be dangerous, not only to myself, but also to others. I think I have made some good points over the past two years. I know I have raised some interesting topics. I have made some of you laugh and made some of you cry. I have also made people mad. I have ruffled some feathers. I have hurt some feelings and wounded some relationships. Never was that my intention, yet it is true.

Initially, I thought my writing was a form of healing. A way to vent that would produce a happier self. I have since realized and recently admitted that there is more than meets the eye lying at the roots of these thoughts I so often share with you.

I recognize that venting about the issues of life to a faceless, mass audience will never be as healing as confronting those issues directly. I know that simply talking about my frustrations and my concerns will never accomplish an ultimate resolution until I confront the problems head on. And it's time to quit talking and start doing in many areas of my life.

I tell you all of that to tell you this. You are reading the last Friday e-mail. Some of you won't care – I realize that. But some of you will. And I feel that I owe you an official goodbye. For the ones of you who care, this is it. The Final Friday.

Now, I hope we can treat this like any other end to a relationship by looking back on our time together with a smile, declaring that it was fun while it lasted, and always knowing that there's the potential for some random hook-up in the future. Yes, our regular Friday dates are over, but that doesn't mean we'll never talk again. We can, for sure, be friends. And I am certain on random occasions I'll still have a random thought or two to share with you.

Check my blog from time to time…you might just find that I still have some important things to say.

Have a very blessed holiday season.
Merry Christmas!
KB

The Questions You Never Ask a Woman

2006-12-01T08:12:00.000-08:00

At this point in civilization's history, most people assume that the human race would have perfected the art of being sensitive to others’ personal situations. The effects of mass communication, however, have completely had the opposite effect on our communication process. No longer are any subjects taboo. No longer do people filter their thoughts before spewing words out of their mouths. No longer do people realize that certain topics are highly personal.

It used to be that you never asked a woman her age. While it is still a little rude to ask older women that question, age has been become a benchmark of accomplishment. Today, most women are proud to announce their age to the world. Age represents strength and survival.

But there are still questions that require a certain amount of tact. Today I feel it is my personal responsibility to spread a self-censorship message to you. We'll call it “The Two Questions You Never Ask a Woman” (and her age ain't one of them).

The funny thing about these two questions is that even though they are intrusive, sometimes offensive and very often hurtful to women, it is typically women themselves who ask these questions. I guess this is free advice for the men reading today. But if you hear your Mother, Sister, Girlfriend or Friend-Girl asking these questions, you are now and forever obligated to scold them for their lack of sensitivity.

QUESTION #1: Why aren't you married?

Picture this, if you will. I’m sitting in a restaurant having a girls' dinner with three married friends. We're laughing, enjoying the recaps of each other’s lives and celebrating a pregnancy announcement. I am in the middle of some dramatic dialogue when an older sorority sister of mine walks up to the table. We exchange pleasantries then proceed to the usual catch-up, with everyone at the table giving her two-minute speech about her life’s status. I go last. But by the time it gets to me, the sorority sister only says, "What about you, Kassi? Why aren't YOU married yet?"

Now, I have to admit, in this specific instance the question was funny. Not because the question itself is humorous (because, trust me, it isn’t), but because I was sitting at the table with three married women. They were the first three to get married, so I can guarantee they have never been asked this prying question. The Marrieds were way more uncomfortable than I was (probably because I have become numb to it.) Still, why on earth would you ask anyone – male or female – something so personal? Why would you assume that they have “A” reason? And if there is “A” reason, why would you assume that they would want to share it with you?

Why aren't you married? Every time someone asks me that I revert to my childhood and have to fight the urge to say, "I don't know. Why are you fat?"

POINT #1: Sensitive issues are not good topics of casual conversation. If you have or have not seen a person in a while, it doesn't matter. If you have to ASK why a person isn't married, then you obviously don't know the person well enough to have that information. So don't ask for it.

QUESTION #2: When are you going to have a baby?

I grew up listening to the stories of my mother – a woman who was unable to conceive for the first ten years of her marriage. I am the product of countless visits to the doctor, fertility drugs and medical procedures. I am a "miracle baby." (I am also a very expensive baby. My daddy told me once that he should have known I'd be expensive for the rest of my life when it took so many thousands of dollars just to get me here in the first place. Ha! How right he was.) I have listened compassionately over the years as Mother recalled the feelings she experienced when people challenged her on why she hadn't yet had a baby.

"People would say things like – oh, they'd rather buy a house or travel to football games or drive new cars than have a child," Mother recalled. "The truth was, it's not that we didn't want a baby, we just couldn't have a baby. And it really hurt when people asked us when we were going to have kids – like it was something we controlled."

I grew up with that frame of reference. In my mind, having a baby is a very personal and private decision. It's not something you ask about or bring up in conversation. So I never realized that people actually asked women (and men) this question. Not until my own Girlfriends reached the two-year mark in their marriages and people began assuming that a kid was the next step in the process.

I am the one who cringes when I hear someone ask a married female why she isn't pregnant yet.

POINT #2: Just like the marriage question, the baby question is invasive. If you are close enough to a person to be privileged to that information, then you won't have to ask the question.

Regardless of what we want to like to think about ourselves, we are not nearly as important as we think we are, and we do not have a right to know the personal, behind-the-scenes situations that contribute to another's personal state-of-being. So do the world a favor and quit asking questions that are none of your business.

2006-11-23T10:23:00.000-08:00

happy thanksgiving!

What I Am Thankful For

2006-11-17T08:37:00.000-08:00

Today officially marks the beginning of my holiday season. It's Thanksgiving luncheon day at my office, and I am pumped! Turkey, ham, dressing--the works--I can't wait.

I am such a lover of the holidays. I love everything about this time of year--the cold, the crowds, and the time with friends. All of it makes me very sentimental--I spend most of November and December pretty nostalgic--especially the week leading up to Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving isn't a huge production at my parents' house. I mean, we have the food and the family, but it's only a few of us and it is pretty calm. Since it's kind of tame (especially compared to our Christmas holidays), I have always used this time of year to reflect on what I am truly thankful for in my life. This year is no different, as I have already begun to make mental lists of my life's blessing.

I am very aware that my "What I Am Thankful For List" has changed over the years. It now includes more people than possessions--a stunning evolution since the days of my childhood when things dominated on my list. The content of my list has definitely changed since I was a little girl, and the older I get, the more its content continues to evolve. This year, I am realizing that my "What I Am Thankful For List" is becoming increasingly dominated by items in a sub-category titled, "Things For Which I Am Thankful Never Happened."

While there are numerous items and events in my life for which I am truly grateful, they are closely rivaled by those things for which I am thankful never occurred. We all have the personal examples to share. We all have the memories of longing for something and not getting it, and then one day waking up and realizing what a relief that the initial plan didn't work out. In the middle of the disappointment, we only felt the sadness, but after going on and growing up, well, we see that things really do work out like they're supposed to work out in our lives.

The things I am thankful for that never happened aren't any reflection on the situation or the person or the plan. It's just that I look at who and what I have now, and where I am in my life, and I know that none of this would be part of my existence had some other plans not fallen through. And when I look at all I have and think of all I have to be thankful for in my present, how can I not be thankful that some things never happened in the past?

Love Is Not a Feeling

2006-11-03T08:52:00.000-08:00

I just found out about another couple I know who is getting a divorce.

She said she fell out of love. You know what I say to that? "BS!"

Why don't I believe her?

Because it isn't possible to "fall out of love." People don’t just wake up one day not in love with their spouse anymore. How can I be so sure, you ask? Because love isn't a feeling. Love is an action. And being in love is a conscious decision.

So because loving is a verb, and loving someone a deliberate decision, I don't think "falling out of love" is something that can ever happen to you. On the contrary, I think you wake up every day, look at the person you’re with and make a decision to stay. You make the decision to love them every day, over and over. You make a deliberate choice to stay in the relationship.

So people may be speaking the truth when they say they just don't love someone anymore, but it’s a conscious decision. It’s not something that happened TO them against their will and without their consent.

Now, I’m not saying that there are no feelings involved at the onset of a romantic relationship. But, as I've learned the hard way, if you expect butterflies and fireworks on a daily basis for the rest of your life, you're going to be extremely disappointed. I hate to break it to you, but life happens.

The bliss fades. Life’s real issues start sticking their ugly heads up out of the serene, beautiful lake you paddled into the day you found Mr. or Ms. Right. Then money and kids and career cloud the waters, and that once picturesque lake turns into a dismal, frightening place. If you and your partner haven't made a conscious, deliberate decision to stick with it even when things get bad, then you'll interpret the lack of intense emotion during hard times as a lack of love (which couldn’t be further from the truth) and you’ll find yourself drowned in the midst of the very thing you created – the very thing that was once so perfect to you.

We all need to understand that relationships are cyclical. Some weeks they're full of passion and some weeks they make you feel like you’ve been poisoned. You have to decide to stick it out until the next phase. You have to be willing to paddle hard until the waters are calm again.

Simply stated, if you don't love someone anymore, then say you don't love them anymore. But acknowledge that result as the product of choices you have made. Don't blame it on the loss of a feeling. Love has never been a feeling. It never will be.

My Feet Hurt...

2006-10-27T14:27:00.000-07:00

My Feet Hurt...A statement for which I am notorious.

My feet always hurt. Granted, I usually am wearing 3-inch heels, but that's beside the point. My feet hurt, but they sure do look cute.

If you know me, you have to admit that I do own some great shoes. If you've ever dated me, you know that not one single pair is as comfortable as I promise they will be before we leave for dinner or the game or the wedding. Sorry. It's just not the real-woman thing to do to wear ugly, comfortable shoes – a point against which my dear sister will argue wholeheartedly for the rest of her days.

But I say real women can take the pain. Real women can hide the blisters and the blood from the world and smile as though they are walking barefoot through a field of daisies. I've actually said, "I could run a marathon in these shoes," knowing all along that such a feat would guarantee a double amputation at the end of the race.

Yes, my feet may hurt, but I’ve developed an uncanny ability to hide the pain from everyone except those closest to me. Who cares if my feet hurt when I look so fabulous? Unfortunately, I am not the only person who takes part in this constant charade. The result is a world full of women with bunions on their feet and corns on their toes.

But small charades give rise to the larger ones, and we end up never knowing what's really causing pain in the lives of those around us. I wear cute shoes even though they hurt my toes. How many people are wearing a smile to cover the sadness in their lives?

Some of us wear shoes and some of us wear smiles, but each of us knows that the outward appearance is more appealing than what’s really happening in our shoes or in our hearts. That’s why we keep up the act.

What the world knows of us and what we know of ourselves may differ. I'll be very open and honest – I have a bunion the size of Texas on my right foot that will most certainly require surgery one day. Disgusting but true.

How many other people are walking around with bunions on their souls? Maybe it isn’t their foot but their family that is causing excruciating pain. Or maybe their financial situation is a mess. Or perhaps their romantic relationship lies in ruins.

The point here isn't to go buy a pair of Keds, although certain people would be much happier if I did just that. The point is, no matter how great someone else's situation looks to you on the outside, never ever convince yourself that you are the only one who doesn’t have the perfect life. Yes, I have cute shoes. I also have foot problems. He has a constant smile on his face, but he also has a hopeless future and a dead-end-job. Sure, she has a hot husband and beautiful children, but she also has a dependency on anti-depressants.

Everything is relative. Everything is personal. And everything is not as obvious as it appears.

“You Won’t Always Get To Be That Selfish”

2006-10-20T08:11:00.000-07:00

I couldn’t sleep last night.

I tossed and turned. Flipped and flopped. Counted sheep. Stared at the ceiling. Watched television. I just couldn’t sleep.

I was exhausted, and I should have been out like a light the minute my head hit the pillow. But that didn’t happen. Instead of falling asleep, my thoughts were racing out of control like they do on that stupid Lunesta commercial. (Geez, I wish I’d had some Lunesta last night. I’d have paid big money for anything to knock me out.)

Needless to say, I am tired this morning, but one good thing did come out of my restless night – the Friday e-mail.

Last night, I could have been the poster child for a sleeping pill. My train of thought was all over the place for a bit, until I fixated on one particular conversation I’d had this week. As is typical with me, the longer I thought about it, the more worked up I became.

Background: As some of you know, I went to New York with a group of Girlfriends a couple of weeks ago. Not long after my return home, someone was asking me if we shopped a lot, which we did.

As part of the conversation with this other person, I was recalling some of the larger purchases made by the group – one Girlfriend bought a great bag, one Girlfriend got great boots, I got a great dress and bracelet and jacket, etc.

Now, I thought the person with whom I was having this conversation was making a genuine inquiry of interest into my trip until the person replied, “Well, you won’t always get to be that selfish.”

Um, what? Excuse me? Selfish?

I was really quite pissed, for lack of a better word, by the statement. I mean, granted, I do spend money on myself. However, it is MY money. The last time I checked, I had no husband, no children, no debt and no parents in need of long-term care. Even my rock-band sister has a full-time day job, so I don’t even worry about her anymore.

So what if I spend money on myself? I work very hard for my paycheck. If I want to buy a new pair of shoes every day or spend $200 on a pair of jeans, so be it. I am not taking anything away from anyone by doing so.

Why must the social stigma of being a single woman follow me so closely? It even manages to butt its way into how others view my spending habits. Why should I be frowned upon for enjoying the life that I work for? Granted, my life may be different than some other women my age. Maybe I have a little more freedom to travel and to purchase over-the-top items than a woman who has a family. But do acquaintances of mine really have the privilege to question my lifestyle simply because it varies from their own?

Let me remind you here that, for the most part, people choose their lifestyle, whatever that may be. I’ve shared this with you before, but I do not feel sorry for people who have purposely made decisions that alter the path of their lives – i.e. med school, marriage or children.

That’s not to say that I think their lives are perfect. Do I think they have the right to complain if they want? Of course they have the right to complain (if they can find someone to listen). But I don’t appreciate anyone looking at me, or any other single female or male out there, and calling us selfish simply because we are single. We all make conscious decisions about which path to take in this life. Some people’s choices mean their money and time are obligated to other people. My choices mean my money and time belong solely to me.

One day I am sure I will longingly look upon a group of single women in their mid- to late-twenties and wish I had the freedom to take a vacation with my Girlfriends and spend the day eating, drinking and shopping. I sincerely hope that one day I am sitting at home feeling overwhelmed by the checkbook and the chores and the children.

But right now, today, I am not at that place in life. Oscar Wilde once said, “Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live; it is asking others to live as one wishes to live.”

So please don’t judge me or any other single person as selfish. We aren’t asking you live like you’re single. We’re just doing the best we can with the life we have chosen…and trying to be happy along the way. And it just so happens that shoes ensure my happiness.

Talking to Friends

2006-10-13T07:46:00.000-07:00

A friendship, like any other relationship, is tedious and complicated and requires some work. There is such a balance between saying what you are thinking, saying what you are feeling and holding back messages that serve no purpose. Many people have the misconception that a friendship requires each participating party to disclose every detail about her own life. This is not true.

In general, we assume too much about our own personal importance to our Friends' worlds. When it comes to offering advice and opinions, we generally and genuinely believe our voices matter. However, certain encounters and confessions have made me really think about what I do and don't have the right to say to any true Friend. (And what I do and don't want to hear.)
Now, some will argue that real Friends can say anything to one another. But even with the best of Friends, discretion is sometimes necessary.

First, I don't think anyone should offer unsolicited advice to a Friend about their romantic situations. Yes, I may think that I know Friend the best of anyone. And I may. The truth, however, is that unless he or she comes to me and says "what should I do about…?" I should not offer my opinion. This is hard. I know. This is very hard, especially after I've listened to the complaining and the crying and the cursing about the Significant Other. But if I open my mouth and spill my guts tonight while she's mad, she'll be mad at ME tomorrow when she and S.O. have made up. I don't know why it works that way, but it does. I react exactly the same way.

If a Friend does choose to offer advice when she is asked for it, then I feel strongly that it should never be advice that she would never take for herself. I have often caught myself telling a Girlfriend what she should say to someone. In my own head, however, I realize that I would never have the strength or guts to do it myself if I were in her position. If it is not really what I would do in the situation, then I shouldn't offer it as a viable possibility.
So if Friends shouldn't offer unsolicited advice and shouldn't offer advice that they wouldn't take for themselves, then what can a Friend do in a time of crisis?

A real life example is the perfect example of the truest friendship and strongest support:

One of my very best friends in the entire world listened to me cry one night. I was completely distraught and upset over my own life and a particular situation. She listened. She listened some more. Not once did she tell me what I should or shouldn't do. She didn't offer some piece of advice that was impractical or that she'd never take herself. Instead, she listened. Then, she was honest with me. She did the unthinkable -- she admitted that she had no solution, no words of wisdom, no quick fix to straighten out my life. "I have no idea what you're going through, Kas. I have no way to know. I have never been in your position. I have no way to truly sympathize with you right now, but I care about you and I am sorry you are so upset." That is all she said.

How profound. On that night, riding with her in that car, I realized that I've been spilling my guts to my Girlfriends my entire life. Always waiting for advice. Always wanting clarification from another person. The reality is, I never needed advice or opinions. I simply needed someone to support me. To accept me. To sympathize with me. I needed someone to be there for me.

Truly, that's what talking to Friends is all about.

Start spreading the news

2006-10-13T07:45:00.000-07:00

Start spreading the news, I left yesterday
I'm in the very heart of it -- New York, New York
The Girlfriends and I, are shopping today
We're gonna wine and dine tonight in New York, New York

Yep, that's right. Today I am smack dab in the heart of New York City on a trip with The Girls. Just wanted to tell y'all to have a fabulous weekend, because we're sure going to! Talk to you next week.

The Friday McEmail About the Thursday McLetdown

2006-09-22T07:59:00.000-07:00

I stood in my kitchen last night scraping wasabi off my Gail Pittman and questioning my loyal devotion to television shows. The Girls were gone, the wine was gone and I was alone thinking about the season premiere of Grey's Anatomy. All the waiting, all the hype, and last night's episode was nothing but a big McLetdown.

The show took a big risk with its switch to Thursday night to begin with. So why not start off the new season and new night with an explosion? Instead, we get the humdrum drama of another car wreck and another death of a character we were unfamiliar with.

Now, I am an intelligent person…I realize that this death wasn't the point. I realize that the death served as a platform to springboard the flashbacks and personify the emotions of Dr. Bailey. I get that. Still, there wasn't enough follow through on the storyline to make it interesting or believable.

We learned nothing of significance about McDreamy and Meredith until there were 15 minutes left in the show. Then, it was just enough info to let us know we'd have to wait some more.

Now, I don't mean to waste your time with my opinion of last night's show. Actually, the show is just the backdrop for my thoughts, a stage-setter, if you will – kind of like the four girls who wouldn't confess to having a baby (WHAT?). Addison needed the situation surrounding those four girls so she could give that speech about acting like nothing was wrong.

Anyway. My point today is that I spent all summer waiting to see last night's show. All summer. The build-up, the hype, the waiting. So much time spent waiting.

Why did I do that? Why do I wait with such anticipation on anything? Waiting on the next birthday...waiting on Christmas…waiting on the promotion…waiting on Mr. Right. We spend so much time waiting. Hurry up and wait. And more often than not, the thing we’re waiting on ends up being a big McLetdown.

I am going to spend this weekend with a Girlfriend – the one with The Pregs – in which case we're all in a hurry to wait on a baby. This is one case where I am sure the final product will not disappoint. Hurry up, Baby Parker!!!

CYBERSTALKING

2006-09-15T13:26:00.000-07:00

Confession: I have a MySpace account. I am a cyberstalker.

However, I don't consider myself an official MySpacer. I mean, I don't accept any friends, I don't invite any friends. I don't send messages. I don't spend hours designing my page or anything like that. Basically, I just have an account so I can look at other people and make fun of them. Which the Girls and I do. A lot.

I have developed some shockingly impressive detective skills through the MySpace epidemic. It's really an intriguing investigative process. I believe I have uncovered a cheating scandal, a secret engagement and possibly one drug ring. Maybe not. But when you don't know the people and you only read brief snippets of information, there's a lot of speculation involved. There are tons of interesting cases out there.

I first became involved in the MySpace craziness during the latest season of The Bachelor: Paris. IT WAS GREAT. I could look up the contestants and read what they were saying to other friends and then trace their friends and see what they were saying to each other. There was a wealth of information to be discovered until the idiots at ABC finally realized that two-thirds of the population are obsessed with the phenomenon that is myspace. They made the contestants quit posting. Regardless, that's what sparked my interest.

MySpace is really scary when you think about it. There is absolutely no anonymity left in the world now…Facebook and MySpace have destroyed that mystery. No longer is there a tall, dark and handsome stranger to fantasize about from across the bar. No, now if you can find out a name there's a profile of him on MySpace that discloses everything down to the kind of underwear he prefers. Perhaps this should be listed as another Degradation of Dating. MySpace. There's no wonder left anymore.

Anyway, I am not officially a MySpacer, but I am sure glad that 76 million other people are.

In-Between-Time

2006-09-08T07:20:00.000-07:00

Mississippi has it's own set of specific crises. I am not talking about the feuds over racial equality or the stereotypes of women or the generalizations about the intelligence of our population. No, Mississippi has even harder problems to solve: like what in the world to wear to a football game in September!

Here we are, post-Labor Day, and, technically, the summer is over. My gal pals up North are packing up their summer duds and breaking out the light sweaters and boots. We in the South still feel the heat of 90-degree afternoons, yet we don't want to wear strapless tops and sandals anymore. What is a girl to do? What in the world am I going to wear to a mid-morning kick off when the forecast says the day’s high is 90 degrees?

That In-Between-Time drives me crazy when it comes to clothes. I just want to find something to wear that doesn't look like I am going to a Fourth of July blow out even though it's hotter than a firecracker outside. I look in my closet, hoping the solution will jump out at me. Regardless of the fact that I selected and purchased every item in this closet, I’m hoping that this time I’ll see something I haven’t noticed before. I am looking for something that meets all the criteria to solve this temperature-versus-time-of-year conundrum.

The In-Between-Time drives me to drinking when it comes to relationships. I stand in my metaphorical closet, looking at everything that I’m already aware of and wishing desperately to see something in a new light – something that is, perhaps, more exciting and more appropriate for this season in my life. I look at all of my prospects. I see what I’ve got, and I see what I’m limited to. Yet I’m hoping for an epiphany that will shed a dramatically new and different light on my current state. I’m longing for enlightenment – for something that will help me make the tricky transition from a summer mentality to the more calming thoughts of autumn.

Go ahead and say it: In-Between-Time that exists between summer and fall fashions isn't really that much of a crisis. Please understand that I’m well aware of that. Please understand that I exaggerate and am sarcastic.

But the In-Between-Time that happens in life can feel like a crisis in every sense of the word. So do we just wait and feel out of place until we are certain that our choice will be safe and correct? Do we go ahead and plunge into the new trends even if they don't really mesh with our personality? Do we wear the jacket even though we know we're going to be too hot? Should we buy the boots even though they hurt our feet in the store and make our ankles look chubby simply because they'll be a fall staple? What if I just don't know what I want to wear because it’s the In-Between-Time?

Will it ever be okay to say “screw it” and do what I want to do regardless of the world's silent rules? Will it ever be easy to manage this In-Between-Time? I am just ready for winter. Black is back and sweaters will be big. That I know. And that I can handle.

A Moment for Self-Evaluation

2006-09-01T08:22:00.000-07:00

Do other people see us the same way we see ourselves? Do other people look at us and think we're as (insert adjective here) as we think we are?

I wonder…

So that's how today's Friday e-mail got started. One little thought that began to nag at me. What if other people see me completely differently than I see myself? Other thoughts followed: What if I mean to be helpful and instead I am overbearing? What if I intend to be outgoing and instead I am just annoying? What can I do to make sure other people know the same me that I know?

Undoubtedly, it must happen to a lot of people. Surely we all know individuals who have great intentions, but whose intentions aren’t always correctly translated. Maybe they're trying to be knowledgeable, but instead they come across as know-it-alls. Or perhaps they think they're being ambitious when really they're just being obnoxious. What about people who are attempting to offer advice, but actually come across as telling you what to do?

I, for example, think I am organized. Other people, however, have described me as "anal." Obviously, it is truly in the eye of the beholder.

With all these thoughts running through my mind this week, I did what my friends love/hate most (depending on whom you ask) – I took an informal survey.

It was really just one simple question: If you were going to pick one or two adjectives to describe me (not my physical appearance, but ME), what word(s) would you choose?

Now, I know what you're thinking. No one's ever going to be completely honest when you send them an e-mail asking them to describe you. You obviously don't know my friends! I got many responses – some repeat answers, some varying ones, some flattering ones and some, well, very honest ones.

I compared this list to a list of adjectives I had previously made of how I describe myself.

Did some of the items match up? Of course. Did some of them conflict? OF COURSE!

But what I actually learned from my little survey totally negated its original purpose. Initially, I wanted to see if other people view us the same way we view ourselves. Honestly, based on this experience, I can say that overall they do not. My friends were much kinder and much more complimentary than I have ever been to myself. Their responses to my little survey have brought to light a new thought, and it's a thought I feel is worthy of passing along.

Maybe we should begin seeing ourselves as others see us, because sometimes other people see us in a much better light than we see ourselves.

Look Into My Crystal Ball

2006-08-25T08:57:00.000-07:00

The future. What the world would give to know its secrets.

The future. What people would sacrifice to know its contents.

The future.

Like everyone else in the universe, I get caught up thinking about what my life will turn out to be. Will I accomplish anything worthwhile? Will I leave a legacy my children will be proud of? Will my life matter when I am no longer on the planet?

Only the future knows.

Or does it?

There's a group of women – 30 years my senior – with whom I spend quite a bit of time. I tell them all the time that they’re my friends and me in 30 years. I truly believe they are equivalent to looking into my own crystal ball. I watch their lives and friendships, and in them I see myself and my own friends. This group of women, a group who has seen death, divorce and drama affect one another for longer than I've been alive, are really what the future is about.

Maybe we don't know the specifics of tomorrow. Certainly, we don't know how everything is going to end up in 30 years. But I have learned from these women that the future will happen regardless of what I do. I can't control the circumstances of tomorrow, but I can nurture and invest in the relationships (both with women and with men) that will be my support when the circumstances of life seem to control me.

Having a crystal ball and seeing the future would be nice in some aspects, but then I'm afraid we'd become so overwhelmed by life that we'd forget to live. Besides, there's no need to know what the future holds, as long as we surround ourselves with people who'd stand by us even if they did know all the mess that is to come.

No Title for This One...

2006-08-18T12:24:00.000-07:00

I usually sit down to write the Friday e-mail with a thought in mind as to where the words are going to go. I typically have heard a conversation or held a conversation that inspires some sort of reaction and prompts me toward a topic. Today, though, it’s different. I sit down to write this with a mind and heart so full of distorted and jumbled emotions that I am not sure that I will be able to create any logic out of the chaos.

I have no specific point to ponder. No words to pass your way that will reveal a life lesson or explore some flaw in reason. Today I am just sitting here overwhelmed. The keys on my keyboard are actually intimidating me. I have so much to say, and I know what all these letters could possibly reveal if I let my fingers have free reign to type and if my mind ceased to censor the material.

Therefore, in order to protect myself from the repercussions of my own stream of consciousness, I am going to stop right here, tell you one story and call it a day.

*****

I stopped by the Quick-Mart late last night to pick up a few things on my way home. I gave the man behind the counter payment for my goods, grabbed my bag and walked toward the door.

"Hold up, ma'am," the nice man with bad teeth said. "I'm going to need some more money."

"More money?" I questioned. "But I gave you exact change?"

"Yes," he said. "But see this dollar? It ain't real." He then pulled out the marker that proved that the bill was indeed a fake.

Just my luck. I had a counterfeit $1 bill in my wallet (that I am pretty sure I got from McDonald's yesterday morning when I went to buy a breakfast burrito.)

"Great," I thought. "Just what I need. Something else in my life that isn’t real."

It Could Be Worse

2006-08-11T09:10:00.000-07:00

I suppose we all have days like these. I, personally, have had a week like this. The kind of week that makes you want to stay in bed until it’s over. Not any one specific thing, really. It just seems to be everything. I’ve been sick, I had to go to the dentist, my job is in chaos. However, trying to verbalize what is wrong would only mean that someone else out there is going to tell me how much worse it could be.

True or false?
“It could be worse.”

TRUE. It could be worse.

Yes, I know that things could be worse…I could be friendless. I could be screwed up on drugs. I could be unemployed. I could be dead. I could be unable to afford cute clothes. I could have an old, ugly car. I could have no car at all. I could have friends who won't tell me that my hair looks bad. I could be terminally sick. I could be fat. I could be homeless. I could still live in Golden.

Yes, things could definitely be worse. I guess that things can always be worse. Yes, today things could be better, but today is just for today. Tomorrow I will realize that today was just a glitch on the radar. While it feels like everything is messed up right now, it really isn't. I have a wonderful life. People love me. People care about me. People think I am funny. People value my opinions. People value ME.

So, what I guess you all are reading today is a Friday e-mail that I am writing to myself, reminding myself that things could be much worse.

I need to remember that. And you should never forget it.

When you start looking around, it only takes about three seconds to see someone whose shoes you don't want to walk in. There are so many bigger problems…too many to even begin to list.

Yes, today feels pretty terrible. And maybe you feel sad, too. So, you can have a moment (only a moment) to feel sorry for yourself. OK. That's enough. Even though things could be worse, more than likely, everything is actually just going to get better. Don't lose sight of the big picture.

Today it sucks. Tomorrow it'll be great again.

Dream a Little Dream

2006-07-28T08:06:00.000-07:00

If I logged the number of hours I spend daydreaming in a day, I am guessing that at least 30 percent of my awake-time is dedicated to "what might have been" or "what could be" or, in some cases, "what will never be."

I daydream a lot. I daydream about little things…I daydream about big things…I daydream about different things…I daydream about the same things over and over.

One of the things that I really think about a lot is what are famous people doing all day while I'm at work? I mean, where is Jessica Simpson right now? What is Jennifer Anniston going to eat for lunch? Now, I have never been obsessed with celebrities per se. I have been on planes and eaten in restaurants with them (well, not with them, but while they were in the same space). Anyway, it didn't really faze me. However, their lifestyles fascinate me.

Understand, though, it's not their money that captivates me; it's their financial freedom – the endless opportunities that their money essentially provides. I am supposing that sounds like the same thing, but it is not. I daydream about these celebrities because I would just like to know the feeling of getting the things I want without giving up something else to do so. What would it be like to buy every pair of shoes I want? What would it be like to drop the money for that Marc Jacobs that I have obsessed over for months and never miss the cash? What would it feel like to spoil my family and friends with trinkets and trips on a regular basis? What would it be like to hand over $100,000 to the charity of choice just because that's what I want to do today?

I know that someone out there is already dying to play devil's advocate by presenting the side of the star-studded society that is forced to run from the paparazzi and read about their daily activities in The National Enquirer. Yes, that is a downside to being famous, I guess. Again, I am not saying that I want to be famous in a celebrity entertainment kind of way. I'd much rather be famous in a "Look How Much She's Accomplished for Others" kind of way – an international philanthropist, a world improver, a servant to my global community.

The problem is, in order to be all those things, I need the money of the movie stars. And that isn't ever going to happen. Thus, the reason I spend so much time daydreaming about stars like Matthew McConaughey…actually, that's not true. THAT daydream has nothing to do with money:)

Are Half-Truths Whole Lies?

2006-07-21T06:25:00.000-07:00

Telling the truth comes so naturally to some people. Some people, like me, spill so many details about my daily life that the chance of my lying is zero to none-- simply because no one could make up so much crap with the ability to recall it in the same way, time and time again, unless it is indeed true.

On the other hand, lying comes very naturally to others. Unfortunately, many chronic liars do not see themselves as such. Or, ironically enough, they lie about lying.

Most people will agree on the fact that a total fabrication of a story is indeed a lie. After this, however, the lines are not so easily drawn. Why? The problem with admitting that you are a liar is directly related to self-justification. Nothing alters the facts faster than self-justification.

Because of this attempt to create logical support for the reason one lies, several different categories of liars have evolved from the Blatant Liar. Now, we have the Half-Truth Liar, the Convenience Liar, the Exaggeration Liar, the Hindsight Liar and the Omission Liar. (For full descriptions of these categories, go to the bottom of this page.) Other people have coined terms such as "Mercy Lies" and the famous "Little White Lie." Still the question remains, is there a point where a lie is undeniably labeled as such other than for the blatant fabrication of facts?

Philosopher Immanuel Kant said that truth was subjective, yet he thought lies of all types were bad. So is there a clear, concise point where truth is defined and lying identified?

In the attempt to define truth and label a lie, some questions should be asked--
*To what extent is truth really truth?
*Is omission of details the same as fabrication of them?
*What is the difference in half truths and whole lies?
*Can we accept only partial facts if all those facts are indeed completely true?

A general problem results from the lack of universal acceptance of a single definition of "lying." Therefore, there is also a specific problem between two people, when for the sake of a relationship, need to have the same approach to identifying what is true. For if one believes that the omission of facts does not automatically define a lie while the other person believes it does, then conflict is automatically created.

My own conclusion is that while there is no universal definition, it is still very important that truth's definition be the same if only between two specific people. Therefore, it is extremely important for the sake of relationships--romantic or otherwise--that what constitutes a lie be defined. For if those two people have distinctly different interpretations of what constitutes a lie, then one of them will always be a liar.
_________________________________________________________________

Types of Liars

Blatant Liar-The most undisputable of all liars, this person fabricates the facts. Whether small or large details, this liar does not represent the truth with his words.

Half-Truth Liar-This liar tells partial truths, but either misrepresents the facts or only tells the part of the truth that is beneficial to his/her account (and lies about the parts that do not benefit him/ her.)

Convenience Liar-This is the liar who lies to please people or avoid conflict. This person often creates an answer that could be true, but really isn't yet. But it will potentially or could have potentially happened as described.

Exaggeration Liar-This is a common type of liar. So common that most won't even acknowledge it as such. "I caught a fish that weighed XX lbs..." "I make $_________ a year at my job."

Hindsight Liar-This liar looks back on his/ her account of a story and realizes that embellishment of the story will make it more interesting to the listener, more humorous or a generally better story. So the details are elaborated in hindsight in such a way that you recognize as a repeat listener, that the story changes with every recount.

Omission Liar-This liar tells complete truths. He/ she just doesn't tell all of them when recalling a story. For example, girlfriend to boyfriend: "A have dinner plans tonight with a friend..." Omission: "who I hooked up with all through college."

Back Where I Come From

2006-07-14T07:52:00.000-07:00

There's a song that was written about the place where I grew up by a man named Mac McAnally. Mac grew up in the same little town as me, but it was about 30 years earlier.

He recorded this song first, I believe, but Kenny Chesney made it popular just a few years ago. Every time I hear this song, I'll admit that I get a little choked up because I can envision everything that Mac was talking about when he put those words down on paper. And while I can admit that I was glad to get out of that stifling, small-town mentality…well, there's always something special about going back.

I am going there today…back to where I come from. I haven't been in months, and it is weird to me that for the first time in years, I really miss that little dot on the map. Oddly enough, I am learning to appreciate the quirks and the narrow minded viewpoints that reside there. This little town has such a simple way of life and the important things are really important.

Now, I am sure I'll have at least one heated discussion with at least one family member about politics or religion or money--I always do. However, these are the people who made me who I am today. This is the place where I learned right from wrong and where all the foundations of my life were established.

Back where I come from is such a special place. I am proud to say that's where I come from.

The words below are the original lyrics to the song:

Back Where I Come From
Written by: Mac McAnally

In the town where I was raised
The clock ticks and the cattle graze
Time passed with Amazing Grace
Back where I come from

Now you can lie on a riverbank
Paint your name on a water tank
Or miscount all the beers you drank
Back where I come from

Back where I come from
Where I'll be when it's said and done
I'm proud as anyone
Back where I come from

We learned in Sunday school
Who made the sun shine through
I know who made the moonshine, too
Back where I come from

Blue eyes on a Saturday night
Tan legs in the broad day light
TV's, they were black and white
Back where I come from

Back where I come from
Where I'll be when it's said and done
I'm proud as anyone
Back where I come from

Some say it's a backward place
Narrow minds on a narrow way
I make it a point to say
That that's where I come from

That's where I come from
Where I'll be when it's said and done
I'm proud as anyone
That's where I come from

Back where I come from
I'm an old Mississippian
And I'm proud as anyone
That's where I come from
That's where I come from
That's where I come from

Corn Dog Day in the Cafeteria

2006-07-07T12:05:00.000-07:00

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote, "It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important." Sir, I couldn't agree more! People who can appreciate the importance of the little things in life are few and far between. Everyone talks about the big things -- the promotion, the new car, the wedding.

People forget to think about their new socks or the joy of missing all the red lights. However, I am not one of these people. I am a little things lover. I always have been.

I love the travel to a city as much as my vacation there. I love watching TV with my friends. I love lying on the couch and having someone play with my hair. I love knowing that I get to sleep in tomorrow morning and that when I get home my fridge is fully stocked. I also love for someone to bring me an unexpected "happy." Like this morning, I got a new chair for my desk at work. It's great--tons of levers, knobs and buttons. It’s a chair. Not a car. A chair. But I am genuinely happy about it.

Yes, if you show up at my house with new lip gloss, I am pumped. Bring me chocolate, and I am ecstatic. Surprise me with any small perk, and I am like a kid with a new puppy. Heck, even corn dog day in the cafeteria is enough to catapult my dreary Monday into a day to love.

Everyone should start thinking of the little things as important.

Recognize the sunset. Appreciate the extra ketchup in your McDonald's bag. Find your own equivalent to Corn Dog Day in the Cafeteria.

This Could Change the World

2006-06-30T07:41:00.000-07:00

When I was nine years old, I told my mother that she was denying me my constitutional rights. I had learned in school that the United States Constitution (I have since been corrected... The Declaration of Independence...) grants all American citizens the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. I thought I was being denied happiness because she didn't do what she told me she was going to do. I thought it was a good argument. But, I have always been a little over the top – even at age nine.

However, if the truth were known, the circumstances that prompted that patriotic proclamation of my denial of rights still affect me. Not the specific instance. Rather, the general instance, which is not following through on a promise.

For my whole entire life I have had one simple expectation from other people – do what you say you're going to do, when you say you're going to do it.

Is that so hard of a principle to master? Is it so difficult to just do what you've committed yourself to? Is it that impossible to fulfill through action the promise made with words?

Imagine the worldwide impact it would have if every single person in the world made this one specific alteration to his or her lifestyle. All they have to do is what they say they're going to do. It wouldn't cost anything, but the payoff would be huge. And the only investment it would require would be consideration of word choice.

If we all simply did what we said we were going to do, there would be no more disappointed children. No more fake politicians. No more broken marriages.

I have never understood what is so hard about fulfilling commitments or keeping promises. If you cannot fulfill the obligations, then don't commit to them. If you can't promise the outcome, then don't say, "I promise." (I will try. I will attempt. I will see what I can do. Those are all substitutions for the word ‘promise’ that, at least, acknowledge that your plans could change.)

Yes, if people would just do what they say they're going to do, it would change the world. And I would be constitutionally happy.

The Principle of Seconds

2006-06-23T08:38:00.000-07:00

There's a great divide that exists for many people between truth and tact. Too many people say exactly what they think, and it is sometimes a problem.

Honesty is not my villain here. On the contrary, I am one of the more honest people in society. I have driven back to fast food restaurants on more than one occasion when I realized that the cashier gave me back too much change. I have shared too many details with friends about my personal life for fear that they would think I was trying to hide something. I have even hurt myself simply because I couldn't lie about a situation. I respect the truth. I expect the truth.

Truth without tact, however, is a disaster waiting to happen. Time and time again we’ve heard the phrase, “Well, I was just being honest!”

Yes, but "just being honest" about the fact that you get on my nerves; or that you've gained weight; or that I really wish you'd shut up about the upcoming party, wedding, baby, etc. isn't exactly couth. Society has become so enthralled in personal rights and the right to self-expression that we've forgotten to respect the feelings of others. Speaking without thinking about the potential outcome is dangerous, often permanently damaging. This is where my principle of seconds comes in.

It is by no means a ground breaking idea. It will preserve tact, though.

The Principle of Seconds:

1.) Don't say anything you wouldn't say with a second person in the room.
2.) Wait 10 seconds before verbally announcing whatever is on your mind if it has the potential to be damaging.
3.) After you've waited 10 seconds, repeat the statement to yourself a second time to see if it's still a good idea.
4.) Think about what the reaction of the other person is going to be 5 seconds after you say it out loud.
5.) If you make a truthful but tactless statement, will you have second thoughts later about how the message might have been received?

Today's message is simple: The right to say something does not mean it is right to say it. Think before you speak. Observe tact when revealing truth.

It's Just the Way I Am

2006-06-16T06:32:00.000-07:00

The Fallacy that Fails Relationships

Fallacies are one of the most interesting things to observe in argument. When watching a political debate or platform speech, much of the time the politicians' rhetoric is full of fallacies or flaws in reasoning. Politicians beg the question, they appeal to authority, they appeal to emotion and they make faulty generalizations. But politicians aren't the only ones guilty of flawed discussion.

Actually, fallacies can be extremely useful and very entertaining parts of an argument – I use them a lot when I write, because opinions aren't factual anyway. Media experts use them. The guy on the local commercial uses them. Your next door neighbor uses them. And, chances are, your Significant Other used at least one fallacy the last time you had an argument.

The most common one? "It's just the way I am."

Most people use this common phrase to defend and justify their actions in relationships. It isn't a gender specific crutch – males and females alike use this defense. It is an overused, misunderstood excuse. It is a flawed argument. It is the fallacy that fails relationships.

"It's just the way I am" assumes that a person's own actions are correct (and all actions not like that person's actions are wrong or undesirable.) There is also an insinuation that the person is unwilling to change the way he or she is.

Take for example a married couple who fights about money. She spends too much in his opinion. He makes pleading remarks for her to get control and cut back on the shopping. She argues, "It's just the way I am." He yells that if she doesn't quit he's cutting her off. He insists on saving – it's just the way HE is. The argument goes on and on, and eventually it leads to a divorce. (Financial issues are cited by family experts as a leading cause of divorce in this country along with poor communication, a lack of commitment to the marriage, a dramatic change in priorities and infidelity.)

But in this specific example, is it the financial issue that is the real problem? No. Not really. The real problem is the unwillingness to compromise and recognize the need to change a habit/ trait/ or condition to improve the quality of the relationship.

“It’s just the way I am” acknowledges that one person in the relationship is unwilling to make a change. It eludes that every disappointment, each downfall of a relationship, is actually the other person's fault. Of course, the way WE are is perfect – we've been this way all our lives. It's just the way we are. If someone has a problem with us, the problem (of course) must be with them.

That is a very narrow-minded point of view, and a very unrealistic approach to making a relationship last.

I once read somewhere that the common denominator in all of my failed relationships is ME. Is it possible that I am the one who is sabotaging the connection and creating my own demise?

Maybe if relationships keep failing and fights keep prevailing, it is time to give up on the "It's Just the Way I Am" argument. It may be just the way you are, but just the way you are may be flawed. Quit using the fallacy that is failing relationships, open your mind to new avenues of thinking and the possibility of compromise. Quit expecting someone to accept you just the way you are unless you have officially been deemed perfection. And when someone defends their own actions as being "just the way they are," remember that it's an ignorant, invalid argument and you need someone who is willing to compromise.

Naïve

2006-06-08T19:59:00.000-07:00

I have been accused of being naïve. It is time to present my side of the story...

On the surface, I probably do appear a little naïve. I mean, I believed in Santa Claus until the fourth grade--I actually cried when Mother told me he wasn't real and then I had to ask for clarification to make sure that the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy were also fake. (Yeah, I know. It's still quite a source of laughter in my family. It's okay, you can laugh, too.)

To me, naïve, is used in such a derogatory context. I just don't think I am naïve. In my mind, naive comes from a simple minded, sheltered upbringing. A naïve person is one who is totally unaware of the world around them. Naïve people often seem underexposed to the realism of life. I don't think that is me at all. I am aware of most things…I am conservative in my opinions, but I am not unaware.

I think that others see in me a trait that masquerades as naivety. This deceiving trait gives rise to false allegations. I am not naive.

I am, admittedly, too ready to trust people. I have been burned on more than one occasion by my willingness to accept another's story as fact. I could have saved myself some heartache and disappointment along the way if I had the discernment to view others' actions as less than honest or recognize their motives as self-serving.

Trusting too much has led to my own disappointment, but is it naïve? And what is the opposite side? I am not necessarily jumping at the chance to become cynical.

I recognize that there is probably a more balanced measure that could be attained between my willingness to trust other people and the other end of the spectrum--questioning every action and motive until I am exhausted with conspiracy theories. So how did I arrive at that too-willing-to-believe-what-I'm-told place? And how does someone else take the opposite route and become the cynic of all cynics?

It truly all goes back to childhood and learning how to trust. Legitimately, I don't believe it is a person's fault if they have trust issues. Trust issues develop because of things that happen to us--not because of something we were ever in control of. With that idea in mind, I think it adequately explains why I am so trusting--labeled naïve by some. It is because I was raised by parents and supported by a family whom I could always trust. I was never disappointed by them. I was never let down. I learned to trust because I was surrounded by trustworthy people.

Therefore, I think I am trusting, not naive. Perhaps there is a similarity, perhaps there is not. But I will happily take on either of these characteristics before I will become a question-every-move-they-make kind of human being. Expecting the best from people seems to have always proven itself; expect the worst and that's exactly what you get. Call me naïve if you want, or call me someone who believes in the best intentions of people. Either way, I prefer my existence.

Tingle

2006-06-02T11:39:00.000-07:00

Since I was a little girl I have thought and dreamed about the way my life would one day be. Like all little girls do, I dreamed about the future and all the fun adventures it would hold. I dreamed about the people in my present and how they would somehow tie in to my imagined world of the future. I fantasized about people I had yet to meet and all the things we'd do together. I dreamed about life, but I mostly dreamed about love.

With every Game of Make Believe and every simple thought of What-Might-Be, I began to create in my mind a checklist for the future. On this list was the romanticized version of what I'd seen on television. Actually, for a while my fantasy was to be just like Hope Brady on Days of Our Lives. Thankfully, I realized she'd been dead twice, kidnapped once, buried alive and had her identity stolen. That's way too much drama--even for me--so the Hope Brady dreams ceased.

Okay, back to the point. I made mental notes for years about what I wanted to have in life--notes that had nothing to do with things or possessions. I made decisions about the feelings I wanted to be able to experience. Love, hope, security, passion, etc. As with all things, time alters your view of the world, so my ideals on emotions and things I thought I needed at 13 years old are, thankfully, different than what I think I need today. At age 13 I still wanted to be famous; today I just want to tingle.

Tingling. This is one of those 13-year-old's dreams that hasn't slipped away, and I will never let go of or compromise it. I want the tingle. I love tingling. Tingle.

T-I-N-G-L-E.

While I have learned that many of my 13-year-old daydreams are unrealistic and only exist on the silver screen, I know that The Tingle is real.

I know it is real because I have felt it. I know it is real because I have experienced it. I know it is realistic, and I know that this daydream is something I'll never give up on. I want to spend every moment of my life with someone who makes me tingle all the way down to my toes. And, of course, I want to make them tingle right back.

Mysteries of Life

2006-05-26T08:35:00.000-07:00

I have pondered specific various subjects over and over in my mind for years. Literally, there are recurring topics to which I can find no resolution and can find no way to ease my curiosity about them.

I have mentioned previously my fascination with the world's timeline and my wonder at exactly HOW dinosaurs fit into the picture of The Creation. I completely, without a shadow of a doubt, believe that God created the heavens and the earth in six days by simply speaking them into existence. I am just not sure where dinosaurs fit in with Adam and Eve. (I have decided that this one is not meant to be understood.)

There are less serious mysteries, too, like the Mystery of Football Fans. Now, I don't want to start a fight among SEC schools or anything, but this is a fact that I can't figure out: Did anyone actually go to school at Alabama? I'll admit that this phenomenon isn't as dominate now that I live in Jackson, but in the town where I grew up it was insane. Everyone was a "Bama" fan. No one actually went to school there…they actually didn't go to college at all if we're being honest. BUT they yelled Roll Tide like they knew Bear himself.

There are other Mysteries of Life that probably no one else even contemplates…well, except maybe my sister. Like why is it named a "Weed Eater" but everyone pronounces it, "Wee--DEETER." They do. Say it out loud, right now. See? WEE DEETER. This has been a topic of conversation for years.

However, I am pleased to announce that I have solved one of the more trivial mysteries of life--especially if you work in an office building. That is the Mystery of Disappearing Paperclips. For years I have thought it weird that I keep sending out files and paperwork attached with paperclips, yet, I never seemed to get any back. I am always running out of paperclips and I keep having to refill my paperclip jar. I realized a while back that somewhere the cycle is really messed up. It would seem that at this point in time in the history of office work that there would be such an abundance of paperclips in the work place that we'd just keep an endless cycle of rotation among senders and receivers.

For a period of time, I thought maybe the metal just turned to rust and disintegrated. I have discovered, though, why there is no return of paperclips… Because the paperclip manufacturers are paying a lady in my building to collect them all in cardboard box under her desk…thus ensuring that the supply room will have to keep re-ordering this item and keep the manufacturer employed.

I am NOT even joking. I was walking by a desk and saw a large card board box under the desk of a co-worker. There had to be at least 3,000 paperclips in there. I watched her take apart a packet of paper, throw the paperclip in this large cardboard box and reach for a new paperclip from the container on her desk! Is she in charge of collecting all the paperclips in the world? I don't know. But she is completely disrupting the balance of office life. At least the mystery is solved, though.

(There is no moral to this story. I just found it to be odd and wanted to share it with you.)

Heading to the beach!
Have a great weekend, because I know I will!

COMPLICATIONS

2006-05-18T22:00:00.000-07:00

I am on my way to the beach…well, if you're reading this on Friday before noon I am on my way to the beach. Don't be too jealous. And don't be too confused as to how you're getting this (via) e-mail if I am actually on my way to the beach. I have a super secret personal assistant who is aiding me in this Friday e-mail scheme. Thanks, Greatest Sister of All Time:0

Anyway, in preparation for my beach getaway, I had already written today's e-mail. I had a nice little piece that will probably make it into circulation at a later date, but it won't be read today. Why? Because Sunday night happened. And then, Monday night followed. Of course, I am talking about the season finale of Grey's Anatomy. The episodes were so great and so unpredictable that my entire Friday e-mail plan was turned upside down by my racing thought process...

I had meant to talk to you today about contradictions. I was thrown some curve balls by Grey's Anatomy. Instead, I will talk to you today about complications.

Grey's Anatomy inspired this thought process. I'll admit that. But you don't need to be a fan to understand my point. However, if you did watch the show, you know what I mean about complications…not just that they exist, but that they actually dictate our existence, not just our situations.

Complications are those unforeseen, unplanned, often unwanted change in events that single handedly turn our normal today into our chaotic tomorrow. They leave us feeling out of control. They leave us feeling insignificant in the big picture. They leave us hanging on by a thread and sometimes wondering why we keep holding on.

What is so unique about complications is that there's no specific point of origin. Complications fly at us from all angles and from every direction under the sun. Sometimes the complications are self-created. Sometimes the complications are carry-overs from other people's problems. Sometimes the complications just seem to appear without any explanation and all we get to do is react to them.

It is true, if you think about it, that most of our time is spent dealing with complications. Reacting to the unforeseen. Reorganizing for the unplanned. Why is it that some people seem to deal so well with complications and others don't deal that well with them? And still others simply refuse to even deal with them at all?

You know that fit Izzie threw when Denny was arguing with her about cutting the LVAD wire? That's how I sometimes deal with dramatic complications myself. I admit it--I've had those kinds of fits. Not too often. But I've had them. I am not genetically engineered to deal well with complications. Complications are complicated. I am complicated. And I don't deal too well with complications.

Go back and read the beginning of this e-mail. The point of origin? A Complication. Go figure.

Things I Want to Do

2006-05-12T07:16:00.000-07:00

The biggest adventure you can ever take is to live the life of your dreams.
~Oprah Winfrey

I have kept a list for several years called “Things I Want to Do Before I Die.” It's really just a list of my dreams and my desires. What can I say? I have always been a bit of a planner.

I update the list pretty often. I add things to it and will remove something when it is no longer an aspiration for some reason. It includes a little bit of everything.

This isn’t a final version…it will never be final, I guess. But this is how it appears today, May 12, 2006. I am sharing this list with you for no particular purpose except to say that I hope you have your own dreams. I hope you get something you’ve wanted for a long time. I hope you know the joy of checking something off your want list, because it is a wonderful feeling.

Things I Want to Do Before I Die
(in alphabetical order; accomplishments in color)

Attend a Super Bowl
Attend Mardi Gras
Be a mother
Be called someone’s hero
Buy myself pair of Manolos
Drink a mint julep at the Kentucky Derby
Eat at Cheers in Boston
Earn a master’s degree
Fall deeply in love
Fly in a helicopter over the Grand Canyon
Fly in a hot air balloon
Go to Disneyland
Go to Disneyworld
Go to the Summer Olympic Games
Go to the top of the Empire State Building
Go white water rafting
Have something named after me (a building, a scholarship, an idea)
Have a weekend fling with a stranger
Leave a job on my own terms
Leave home
Marry my soul mate
Move to a new city
Own a Louis Vuitton
Own a substantial piece of art
Own my on home
Own a second home on a beach
Play in Vegas
Provide for my parents when they are old
Put my feet in the Atlantic Ocean
Put my feet in the Pacific Ocean
Read the Bible cover to cover
Ride a horse along a beach
Scuba dive—Great Barrier Reef, Australia
See a waterfall
See my Bulldogs win a national championship
See the NYC Ballet perform The Nutcracker
Shop on Rodeo Drive
Spend Christmas in Hawaii
Spend New Year’s Eve in Paris
Spend the night on a boat
Stand with one foot on each side of the equator
Take the Orient Express from Venice to London
Travel in Europe for an extended period of time
Travel to a city alone
Visit all 50 states
Win an award related to my job
Write a book

A Time and A Place

2006-05-05T07:11:00.000-07:00

I need to make a point: There's a time and a place for everything.

There's an APPROPRIATE time and place for everything. There's an INAPPROPRIATE time and place for everything. Almost daily I witness inappropriate behavior. Therefore, I feel the need to have a heart-to-heart with you about certain behaviors, their appropriate time and their appropriate place.

Case(s) in point:

1. There's a time and a place to wear a white dress.
Like on your wedding day if YOU are the bride. Otherwise, DO NOT, under any circumstances, wear white, off-white, or anything that slightly resembles white to a wedding. Wearing a white dress to a wedding is always inappropriate unless you're the one getting married. I don't care what the "new white rules" are.

2. There's a time and a place for DA (Displays of Affection.)
Notice the missing P for "public." The P in PDA is never appropriate. PDA is an oxymoron. There should be nothing public about it. Now, I'll admit it can be kind of funny, but never appropriate--one time we had to get one of our PDA-ing Girlfriends and her partner off of a table at the Flora-Bama--that was really funny. But in general, and ESPECIALLY if the other person is your Significant Other and you're going home together in an hour anyway, please refrain from PDA until you're out of sight.

3. There's a time and a place for talking on your cell phone.
Checking out at Wal-Mart/ Kroger/ Blockbuster is not one of those places. Many of you can testify that I will say, "I am about to check out at _____________, let me call you back." Number one, it's rude to the people in line around you. Yes, we are super important in our own worlds. We are not super important in theirs, and they don't care what you're wearing or who did what to whom. Number two, it's rude to the person checking you out at the cash register. What if someone walked into your office and proceeded to chat with their BF on their cell while asking you to conduct business?

4. There's a time and a place to wear a thong.
Hear me out on this one-- I realize that some women refuse to wear thongs, because they claim they're uncomfortable and they hurt or whatever. That's fine if you're 68. BUT if you're under 68 and you're going to wear those pants, you've got to learn to bear the pain or get used to going commando. Never are panty lines an option. Buy the thong. VS has some that you forget you are wearing.

5. There's a time and place to discuss bodily functions.
But I am about 100 percent sure that I don't know when that is. I have a real issue with discussions of bodily functions especially in mixed company and at the dinner table. I'll admit that my sister is fun to harass with off-color topics, I am possibly guilty of intentionally provoking her to yell concerning such discussions. Still, I realize that bodily functions are not ever really appropriate to discuss unless it is in a medical context.

Are there more? I am sure there are more…but my mind is overwhelmed at the fact that I just typed "bodily functions" in an e-mail that so many of you are going to read that I have to stop myself. Besides, there's a time and a place for work--and, unfortunately, I'm there.

The Skinny on Being Skinny

2006-04-28T07:39:00.000-07:00

Ok, this isn't officially Pet Peeve Friday again, but I do have a frustration that I would like to vent.

I got on the elevator in my office building yesterday heading downstairs to the cafeteria to meet my work buddies for lunch. In my hand I had my usual meal--a Lean Cuisine. Typical day. Nothing different. Nothing different at all actually, because in the elevator another overweight person made the comment to me that a skinny person like me shouldn't be eating Lean Cuisines.

NEWSFLASH: Skinny people aren't skinny because they live off of potato chips and fried chicken while sitting on their tush watching television.

I don't accept that fat people are fat by circumstances beyond their control. They're not. Sorry, but you have to be dedicated to weigh 350 lbs., I don't care who you are. I do not in any way think that a fat person got that way just because that's the way they are. So in reverse, I really take offense to fat people who just assume that I am thin by nature. Let me be very honest, I do not weigh what I weigh without effort.

Now, I am not trying to sound like I think I am God's gift to the physical world. I am not. I am like every other woman and would change a lot about my body if I could. Nevertheless, I am in awesome shape if you compare me to 90 percent of the American population. I work at it, though. No one granted me the ability to be thin without thinking. I don't get to eat everything I want to eat. I have to work out more than I'd like. A compliment on the resulting appearance is nice, but don't discredit my sweat and taste buds by acting like I weigh 127 lbs. without working hard to do so.

If you are reading this and you are overweight, I am not wanting or trying to offend you. However, think about this: What if every single day you spend hours mowing your lawn…weeding your flower beds…pruning your trees…trying to achieve the perfect yard…only to be shot down by the neighbor who says you're so lucky that you don't have weeds or that your grass is so green? You'd be pissed. Admit it. You'd welcome the compliments, but don't discredit the effort it took you to make it that way. Seriously. It's the same principle.

I am perfectly aware that I sound like a snob today. I do not care. I am not a snob. I am, however, not thin by nature either. On the contrary, I inherited the fat gene from my Dad's side of the family. I could easily be overweight. I love food. I love food more than shoes, so there's actually a lot of discipline involved in being in shape. It isn't fair that I get pegged as a fortunate skinny person as opposed to an unfortunate fat one.

Nothing

2006-04-21T07:09:00.000-07:00

Nothing is a very over used, misinterpreted word.

Question: "What are you doing?"
Answer: "Nothing."
Reality: I'm doing nothing if nothing is defined as splitting time among three projects, trying to get out the door for my next appointment and typing my little fingers to death to meet a deadline.

Question: "What are you thinking about?"
Answer: "Nothing."
Reality: I'm thinking about nothing if nothing means figuring out a way to make everyone in my family content without compromising my own wishes, consoling a friend who is battling with depression and fighting an uphill battle against circumstances which I have no control over at work.

Question: "What are you mad about?" .
Answer: "Nothing."
Reality: I'm mad about nothing if nothing includes the forgotten phone call, late arrival and lack of an apology.

Has anyone ever said nothing was wrong and really meant it?

It's a habit for me, as I am sure it is for most people. Perhaps it's the same principle as "fine."

Questions: How are you today?
Answer: Fine.

We say fine regardless of our current physical, emotional or financial situations. It's the commonly accepted response. Maybe that's what nothing has become.

Nothing. Funny how a word that means emptiness can be so full of hidden meanings.

Keep in mind that when someone says "nothing" it is almost always something. What they really mean when they say "nothing" is "nothing I care to talk about with you."

Happy Easter

2006-04-14T06:04:00.000-07:00

He is not here; He is risen, just as he said.
Matthew 28:6

Great Expectations

2006-04-07T09:19:00.000-07:00

First of all, this week's Friday e-mail marks the one year anniversary of consistent messages sent from me to you. Can you believe you've read that many of my random thoughts? Scary, I know.

Second of all, I owe an apology to a certain bachelorette to whom I promised to dedicate this week's Friday e-mail. I really intended to share the funny details about our weekend with Elvis. However, I couldn't accurately describe the weekend without giving away too many secrets about a weekend with the girls. Please forgive me? "Thank you, thank you very much."

Third of all, (back to me of course) it is almost my birthday. <--(Notice the lack of an exclamation point.) I will turn 26 years old on Monday, and I am officially battling between apathy and all out depression . For those of you who know me, this is a huge change from birthdays of the past...I usually celebrate for the entire month of April. Not this year, though, something is just different.

This morning I realized that thirty is only four years away, and I am beginning to look at aging in a completely new way. Actually, it isn't really my age--the number-- that bothers me. Every laugh line is just a mark of another memory in my opinion. So what if my body will never again look like the solid block of muscle that it did in high school? It's not the physical effects of getting older that are bothering me today.

What truly troubles me is when I think about the things I have not yet accomplished in my life. True, I should focus on those things that I have accomplished, because there's a lot. But that's not my nature. Instead, I think about where I could have done more, how I could have been better. There are just so many things that I thought I would have completed by this point in my life. There are so many goals I have yet to meet.

( I know that many of you want to say, "You're only 26." Well, soon, I'll only be 29 or 33 or 41. It matters. Ok.)

Anyway, with my birthday drawing near, I find myself evaluating my personal objectives. When I think about the things that I want in life, I realize that I have great expectations for myself. Perhaps, too great? Is that possible?

I have to wonder, does there ever come a time in your life when you have to
re-evaluate your expectations?

Is it possible that our dreams and goals were great motivation to get us through college and perhaps launch a career, but the details of the dreams are more than we (or any one person) will ever achieve. Does there reach a point when our expectations are unrealistic and need to be revamped?

My plan mirrors many of yours, I am sure. The plan that says that I will have it all--"all" being an all encompassing term of love, family and career. But when is it coming? Are our great expectations setting us up to feel like phenomenal failures to ourselves? Well, sadly, I think the answer is yes.

Yes, unless we alter the realm in which we review those expectations.

I know that MY problem isn't with my expectations. The real problem for me is trying to confine my expectations to an uncontrollable timeline. I am the first to admit that I have a timeline in my head. I am the first to admit that it isn't working out for me.

So, as my 26th birthday rolls around, I am making a promise to myself. I will keep the expectations, because I deserve the best and I will work for the best. However, I will achieve the expectations when it is time for me to do so. I will keep my great expectations, I will simply erase my timeline.

Lessons on Living from a Dead Frog

2006-03-31T07:33:00.000-08:00

There's a dead baby frog in my parking lot at work. It's very dead. It's been there for weeks. I pass it on my way into the building every day. I think it might be officially petrified at this point.

The frog used to gross me out. Now, I'm not so much grossed out by it as I am intrigued. I started wondering this morning if the frog died a painful death. He's pretty flat, so it was probably pretty quick and pretty painless, although he isn't pretty at all. Baby Frog got me to thinking about how I would and wouldn't like to die. Run over by a car is not one of my top choices of how I'd like to do it.

Now, I am fully aware that we don't get to choose how we die. But what if we all got to sign up for our means of death--not the day or the time--just the method? What IF we could pick how we departed this world, what would people choose?

Part of me would like to die like the frog--very quick and relatively painless. It would be over so fast that I didn't know what hit me...no pun intended. However, I think that's the selfish way out. Maybe it would be over soon and maybe I wouldn't feel any physical pain, but I would be the only one who thought it was easy to deal with. Quick, unprepared-for-deaths hurt families and friends the most. Those deaths that come without warning. If you've never buried a friend or a family member after a car accident, then you're lucky. It's the most unexplainable, out of control feeling I have ever known. It takes years to let it go. It takes an eternity to find closure, if it ever really comes.

For the sake of my family, I guess that an illness of some sort is the best way to leave. I remember watching my grandfather's fourth battle with cancer. He was in a lot of pain, but it was for a pretty short amount of time with the last round. He got really sick, and we all knew that it was the end. Yes, he was hurting, and watching it was very, very hard. However, I will forever cherish the closure that comes with getting to tell someone a final goodbye. Having the chance to say all the things that you never have said before is precious. The last time I saw Pop, although he was no longer able to speak, he could hear me talking to him. His slight movements made me know that he understood every word that I said. It was a morbid time, but it was a beautiful time as each member of my family got to spend time alone with him and personally say goodbye. I have no regrets with that relationship--I told him everything I'd ever felt or wanted to say.

The dead baby frog reminded me of another point, too. Death isn't promised to wait until we're old and gray.

Anyway, I know we can't choose how we die. And so the point of this e-mail finally becomes clear. We can't choose how we die, BUT we're the ONLY ones who can choose how we live. I hope that I live a life worthy of talking about after I'm dead and gone. I hope that people will remember me and say, now there was a woman who cared about other people. She served others. She loved others. She made a difference while she was here.

No, I can't choose how I will die, but I am sure as heck going to choose how I live.

Other Fridays, Long Ago

2006-03-24T10:52:00.002-08:00

I wasn't really feeling the Friday e-mail today. I just wasn't. I had no theme or scheme to share with you. I just didn't feel inspired at all when I got up this morning. I really contemplated sending you all a "Have a Good Weekend" e-mail and leaving it at that.

Then someone sent ME a Friday e-mail. It was from a mentor of mine (he'd e-mailed a whole group of us actually.) Anyway, my face lit up-- Mentor's words are always so motivating and fulfilling. He reminds me of the important things in life. Perspective is his gift. Life is his attitude. Leading is his privilege.

This man is a most unique individual. He is the greatest motivator I've ever known. He's the greatest leader I've ever worked with. He's the most humble man despite his success. He's a person I credit with many of the things that I have accomplished. He was the person who gave me a chance. He was also a person from whom I learned some of the most valuable lessons of my life. I could go on for days and share with you the things he's been quoted for, but in my opinion, none ever as important as the thoughts he shared with me on Fridays.

In college, Friday's were always so special with him. Instead of Friday e-mails, we got Friday thoughts and candy bars. Oh, I've always loved Fridays!

So, in honor of other Fridays, long ago, I am remembering some of my mentor's special Friday thoughts and sharing just a few of them with you.

Lessons applied to life were his specialty. I hope you enjoy, these are my favorites.

· Time is yours until you commit it
· Make few promises, but keep the ones you make
· Take lots of pictures
· Make time for others
· Go the extra mile even if no one notices
· Do what you say you are going to do
· Focus on the fundamentals
· A leader always goes last
· Distinguish between major and minor events
· Thank others
· Day by day

Simple? Yes.
Profound? Maybe not.
Inspiring? Well, for me anyway.

I just want to remind you that being your best self is what's really important. Do the right things. Make a difference in the world by making a difference in the lives of those around you.

Have a great weekend and take lots of pictures!
KB

Three Points

2006-03-15T06:04:00.000-08:00

A good Guy Friend of mine wanted to discuss the Friday e-mail topics with me this past weekend.

"Just once," he said, "I think that you need to write about us Good Guys."

Well, I want him to know that I fully intended on doing that. I was going to write this week's e-mail about all the Good Guys that I know. I was going to make it a snazzy little piece titled something along the lines of "Good Guys—Rare but Real." I was going to point out to the world that I know that Good Guys really do exist.

Then something happened. I became involved in a certain conversation, and I was reminded of why females often view the idea of Good Guys existing as outrageous as the existence of Bigfoot.

May I explain? Good. I have three points to make.

*********************************************
Three Points

I have always been a great listener. I am a wonderful secret keeper. People naturally tell me their private business. Maybe I have some sort of mysterious force surrounding me or something. Whatever it is, people trust me. They always have. Therefore, I have the potential to be a walking source of juicy gossip. I know tons of people's private information that would make wonderful bar stories and great Lifetime movies. Unfortunately, I can never share the info because I have been sworn to secrecy.

Such is how the following information became known to me. (I did ask permission to relay this scenario-- without the names-- in the Friday e-mail. I really needed the scenario to make my points.)

Here’s the story:
A certain Guy Friend dated a girl for several (more than six) months. He liked her. She liked him. They had issues. They called it quits. Several months later Guy Friend started dating Someone New. He had been seeing Someone New for two months when Old Girlfriend called him and wanted to go to dinner. Someone New was out of town so Guy Friend went and met Old Girlfriend for dinner.

After this information was shared with me, I started to laugh. I always tend to laugh when I am nervous. I sometimes tend to laugh when I know someone wants me to say something monumental and I just don't have the words. I also tend to laugh when I know that I am about to blurt out something totally inappropriate but true. The latter being the case in this instance.

"So does Someone New know that you slept with your Old Girlfriend this weekend?" I asked.

"NO!" he replied. He was shocked that I had inferred that much from our 60 second conversation. "How did YOU know THAT?" he asked.

POINT NUMBER ONE: Women are not stupid. Women are extremely intuitive and even when we don't call you out on your BS, it doesn't mean that we are oblivious to it.

Guy Friend continued to explain his story. Apparently one thing had led to another and Guy Friend and Old Girlfriend spent the night together--two nights actually--and "reminded" each other of what was so great about their relationship to begin with. Old Girlfriend is now assuming they're getting back together, Guy Friend is as convinced as ever that it is really over. He said it was for "closure" that he needed the weekend.

POINT NUMBER TWO: You are lying to yourself if you call secret sex "closure." It didn't mean anything--just admit it. Don't try to justify it by calling it "closure." (I guarantee that Old Girlfriend is not calling it that.)

"So, you cheated on Someone New. That's sad. I thought you really liked her, too." I said.

"I DO really like her," he protested. "But Someone New and I haven't talked about 'us' yet. I don't even know what we are--we haven't defined anything, it’s only been a couple of months. So I mean, we're obviously more than friends, but since we haven't defined the relationship…"

I couldn't take his justifications anymore. I stopped him. "That's a bunch of CRAP and you KNOW it." I said.

POINT NUMBER THREE: You can not deny cheating by blaming it on a technicality. Just becasue there has never been a formal status conversation (aka the DTR), it DOES NOT mean that it isn't cheating. Sleeping with anyone other than the person who you are currently dating IS cheating. IT ALWAYS HAS BEEN CHEATING. IT ALWAYS WILL BE CHEATING.

So, yes, I will admit that there are probably some Good Guys in the world. But for all of you Good Guys out there who want to be recognized as such, you need to get a hold of your buddies and share these three points with them. Maybe that will lead to a few more Good Guy sightings instead of more tall tales about their existence.

Principle VS. Person

2006-03-10T07:07:00.000-08:00

When relationships end, we're left alone to analyze and sometimes agonize over the situation--especially if the break up was less than mutual. Wondering where it went wrong….wishing it were different…sometimes wiping tears and licking our wounds.

Let's face it, break ups are hard-- but some are more hurtful, more painful that others. Why? It's the original source of the pain that truly dictates the level of hurt that we feel. The pain and the sadness and the disappointment might translate outwardly as the same reactions. We might even think we feel the same way as always, but I firmly believe that the same feelings can have two distinctly different points of origin.

After years of dealing with breaks, break ups and break downs, well, there's a distinguishing factor that I believe must be acknowledged about the end of any romantic endeavor. It's a realization that was initially hard to swallow, but it is actually one of the most liberating admissions I have ever made to myself. It's the realization of what is really, truly creating the sadness when a relationship ends-- whether it is the principle of the matter or the person that you are really crying about.

I believe that the majority of the heartache in a post-relationship status has little to do with the person that has said good-bye and much more to do with the principle of the situation. It's most often the loss of what the person represented that makes us sad. I don't think we mourn or grieve over the loss of the person in the relationship as much as we grieve over the potential of it. It's the principle of the matter--another relationship that didn't work. Another person that wasn't The One. Another cycle that ends with no payoff. Another example of what you were hoping to avoid. It isn't that the person wasn't a good person, but in our hearts we knew that it wasn't going to last. SO in most cases, it isn't the specific person that we are sad about. No, it's the principle of the situation. Another failed attempt to achieve what everyone else seems to have found.

However, there are the heartaches that truly result over the loss of the person. When the person is the true source of the pain, and the sadness comes from genuine loss of the individual, it's the hardest to move on. Now, some will say that if it ended then it wasn't meant to be in the first place. Some will say that if the person had been The One, then he or she would still be around. Perhaps he wasn't The One. But there are lots of factors that lead me to believe that a person could potentially have been the The One and it still doesn't work out--timing is everything as they say. Find two people who could belong together but whose places in life are too far apart and you'll see a relationship that ends with mourning over a person. A legitimate loss of a soul mate-- where ending it doesn't make any sense, but staying together is impossible--results in true despair.

Before you waste too many night crying over what is lost, just make sure you know why you are crying. I'm not saying that the principle of the matter doesn't hurt, but realize that you are truly grieving for yourself and not for the other person. When you acknowledge the source of your sadness as the principle of the matter rather than the person, it is a whole lot easier to move on. Acknowledge that most of us will only ever have one relationship which will earn a place in our lives and in our hearts where the sense of loss will truly be for another person ... The rest will just be the principle of the matter.

Fake and Phony?

2006-03-03T06:54:00.000-08:00

I will admit that I have been slightly obsessed with The Bachelor: Paris. Okay, really obsessed. But when Monday night's finale finally got here and all the ladies gathered in my living room to gorge ourselves on wine and enough food to feed an army, we were ALL excited.

"Nashville" (Sarah) won and we were pumped…well, most of us were pumped. The night ended. My guests left. I went to bed after only partially cleaning up my havoc-wrecked-house, because the too-much-wine convinced me that the food left in the garbage wouldn't really smell that bad when I got home on Tuesday afternoon.

Anyway, the night was over. The season had ended. But the discussions about the outcome of the show were just getting started--by this, I am referring to the Bachelor message boards where I am now a regular lurker these days. I swear I only read them, though. I don't post. Well, not that much.

Getting to the point…. One of the conversations that followed the finale of The Bachelor: Paris has disturbed me. In numerous conversations leading up to this post, Sarah from the South has been brutally attacked for being fake. Many viewers on the message boards have called her phony and insincere. Now, I personally did not see any of this in Sarah.

After another round of brutal comments about Sarah's character, THIS post appears. While I understand that Claw (that's his screen name) was actually trying to defend my friend Sarah, I felt extremely attacked. (Ok, I have never actually met Sarah, but I am pretty sure if I knew her that we'd be friends.)

This is what Claw wrote: "I recently spent quite a bit of time in the South, near Memphis. I think there is a type of behavior many Southern girls have, that may come across as "fake" or "phony" but is really just a regional thing, that people from other areas are not used to…"

WHAT? Now that's one I've never heard before.

I knew that we were stereotyped as NASCAR fans, NRA members, KKK event planners, toothless and barefoot, inbred and ignorant. However, I had no idea that people from other parts of the country thought of Southern females as fake and phony? I mean, we look at each other and know that we're fake, but how harsh to hear it from an outsider!

Just for the record, while we're talking about The Bachelor, I'd rather be fake and sweet than real and psychotic (a.k.a.MOANA).

I know that a lot of you reading this have grown up with Southern sisters, mothers, grandmothers and girlfriends and I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter.

I'd also love to hear from my many non-Southern friends out there. Really? Do you think we're fake and phony or is this one man's opinion and I should just get over it?

BTW--Yankee is flying in tonight to spend the entire weekend with me. I am so excited that I can't even concentrate-- and there's nothing fake or phony about THAT!

I Was Wrong

2006-02-24T06:01:00.000-08:00

"I was wrong."

Three little words. Nine insignificant letters. Grammatically easy to construct; verbally easily to pronounce. Resentfully hard for me to say.

If I have one fault that outweighs all the others, it is that I hate to be wrong. But more than that, I hate to admit when I am wrong.

Now, I could choose to be sarcastic here and say that it's hard for me to admit I am wrong, because I so rarely am. (You could pretend it was sarcastic...most of you know I really am usually right. Just kidding.)

But what about when I'm not kidding and I really was wrong about something? Wrong about the approach... wrong about the reaction... wrong about the timing... wrong about the emotions... wrong about what I was feeling... wrong about my attitude... just plain old wrong about everything.

What do I do? Well, apparently I initially deny the fact to myself. I convince myself that I am actually right and everyone else is wrong about me being wrong. I pray that my opposing party will recognize their mistake and come to me with an admission. AND in a lot of cases, that happens. But when it doesn't, well, "I was wrong," just aren't words that flow naturally from these lips.

Even when I know that I am the one who messed up I will confess a thousand excuses of why being wrong was only wrong because
...because of the circumstances.
...because of the other people involved.
...because of my lack of understanding of the situation.

However, sometimes I know that there are no excuses. Sometimes it is more important to admit it than to fight for your way. And I can do that.

I was wrong.

Random

2006-02-17T06:42:00.000-08:00

Today is not the beginning of meaningless Friday e-mails with no moral value or organization to their points. I am sure that by this time next week I will be dying to share with you all some important metaphor about french fries or something…but not today. For those of you who feel the need to place a theme on the Friday e-mail, let's say that this one is going to be about self discovery, because I have made an alarming discovery about myself. Well, it's not so much a discovery, really, as it is an admission. I AM ADDICTED TO TELEVISION.

I realized this last night when an invitation to go grab a drink was not even considered because 1.) Survivor and 2.) Dancing with the Stars were both on. Speaking of, I have got to get TiVo. I am overloading my brain trying to bounce back and forth between the two on Thursday nights. Also, on the topic of Thursday night television-- I am sad that Misty left the island. She seemed like someone that I would have been friends with, and her massage tactic was brilliant. Too bad it didn't work. And I really love Jerry Rice. I know that Jerry is the worst dancer left on DWTS and he's probably going to go home tonight, but I am a loyal fan who has voted for him faithfully. GO JERRY!

There have been other phases in my life when I was this consumed by the tube, but those other phases were during college and there were other Girlfriends there to sit beside me and be consumed as well. Now, I contently sit at home alone with my glass of wine and cell phone. I mention my cell phone because it is an attempt to feel semi-sociable. Every night I call the same two Girlfriends who watch the same shows on the same nights. We watch the shows together via mobile communication. On this point, I would like to give a shout out to the genius of three-way calling. Did you know that three-way calling can support an infinite number of callers as long as they all have three-way capabilities and you know which order to call each other? Well, I haven't actually attempted it past four people, but I am sure that it can be done. This was a great discovery and the source of one of my most recent joyful experiences.

Continuing on, it's not just Thursday night television that has me tied down. No, six nights a week I am pretty much committed to a show.

Monday-- The Bachelor. Oh, my gosh. I can't go on without saying that I picked Nashville Sarah from the very beginning as my favorite and the one that will win it all. If she wins, then this will be the third time in Bachelor history that I picked the winner on the first night. I wonder why I can't do that for myself?

Anyway, then there's Tuesday and Wednesday night American Idol. To quote my BFF, "Paula Abdul IS my American Idol." Love it. Can't wait for the voting to start.

Thursday, as aforementioned, is time split between Dancing with the Stars and Survivor. Now DWTS on Thursday is great--and Friday night (TONIGHT) is the DWTS results show. I love the final four couples and even though Jerry Rice is probably going home, I will still continue to watch and cheer for the underdog Lisa (even though we all know that wrestler Stacey is going to win. Could her legs be any longer?)

I do take a TV break on Saturday--basically because there's nothing to watch. But on Sunday I am hooked again, although it is kind of different since it isn't reality TV. But everyone who thinks Grey's Anatomy is AWESOME, please raise your hand. I love Dr. McDreamy and I love George. McDreamy is that guy you want to hate but you also want to jump. George is the best guy friend we love, but we could never see our self hooking up with in a thousand years. Love me some George, though.

Anyway, I know, today's e-mail is the essence of Kassi's Random Thoughts. I was actually asked recently why it was called "Random Thoughts" as opposed to some other adjective…. Well, now I guess you know.

Memories and Melodies

2006-02-10T07:29:00.000-08:00

I was driving to work on this Friday morning far from enthused about the day that I am facing. It IS Friday, but I missed work some this week because I was sick and I've been playing catch up-- catch up is not fun. HOWEVER, it IS Friday and that means Bob and Bender have that crazy radio scheme where they let people call in and sing along with the radio while they are on the radio. Yes, it is a little annoying, but always a guaranteed way to make me laugh at 7:45 a.m.

Well, as I turned the radio on this morning, there it was--Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl." Some of you know where I am going with this... With every line of this song, I began to think about a warm summer day, lots of people, Bikini Martinis, cop cars, yelling neighbors and what affectionately became known as the Northpointe Pool Massacre. I mean, that song just reminds me of summer 2005 and that crazy Saturday that is still one of the most fun days the Northpointe pool has ever seen. I was singing along, doing a little dance by myself in the car, having a very good time for the pre-8 a.m. hour.

Maybe not everyone is going to find that as revealing as I had hoped. Perhaps Clint Black said it better, "Ain't it funny how a melody can bring back a memory? Take you to another place and time...completely change your state of mind."

That's what that song did this morning-- it took me back to a completely different place. A day when all my friends were there and all the problems of the world were on hold. A day that is worthy of stories, but more than that, a day that is worthy of memories.

And other songs do it too. There are numerous songs that are assigned specific memories. "Rocky Top" will always remind me of the solo clogging performance at The Keg. "Candy Shop" will always be the anthem for Girlfriend's Bachelorette Party. "Here Without You" by 3 Doors Down reminds me of an entire year of my life. Some songs take me back to college; some songs take me back to childhood. My favorite songs are the ones that have the most memories attached.

My younger sister is a musician and music lover. I have heard her say that we can't find or feel any emotion that hasn't already been expressed in a song. Unlike myself, she is seldom moved to tears. But for her there are certain songs holding so many memories that to hear them is sometimes overwhelming. She can even remember hearing music as a child that stirred something inside and made her want to cry. Those musically-evoked memories are the strongest, most emotional part of her thought process. Funny how something so small, something you can't even see, can totally alter your state of mind.

Anyway, I think that is interesting how a song--someone else's words put to music--can actually transport us like that. Things I haven't thought of in years will come flooding back with just the first few lines of some old tune. Amazing, really, if you think about it. Kind of like our whole life is its own music video.

Worth the Wait

2006-02-03T06:27:00.000-08:00

We live in a world where the mentality of carpe diem is revered. Those who take chances, those who take risks, those who blindly walk into the fire are exalted. The people with the mindset of taking advantage of the moment have taken over the popular culture. On the surface, this mentality seems to be the thought process for success and happiness.

Perhaps it is the fact that I am getting older-- and not only getting older, but actually maturing-- that has finally enabled me to look at commonly accepted mindsets less accepting of their appropriateness to life. Whatever the reason, I find myself looking around at my fellow human beings and feeling a sense of weakness. I see people who live for the moment, who seize the day. For the moment, their life looks grand and fun and forever exciting. I struggle internally to be more like these people. I want to be more adventurous… I want to be more fun… I want to be more of a free spirit. However, every spontaneous or semi-challenging thing that I do has me realizing that for most people, it isn't really about the moment. It's about what this moment will bring them in the immediate next moment. Seizing the day has become synonymous with getting it fast, making it happen, doing it now.

At so many points in my life I have given in to the immediate. Given in to my weakness of needing to know what the immediate pay off would produce. Whether or not it was the right thing or the best thing didn't matter, the mentality of living for the moment and its immediate pay off offered security. As humans, we are consoled by an assured immediate reaction. We are more confident in what we know and what we can see than in what we can not. So we choose the immediate…we choose the certain. And the world applauds us and tells us that we're doing a good job. The world tells us that we're making the most of the moment. The world fails to tell us that there are some things worth waiting for.

Every truly good thing in my life has come from a process. Never once has a friendship formed overnight. Never once have I been hired for a job where I was at the top of the totem pole. Never once has a romantic relationship been immediately satisfying. Never once have I achieved anything worth achieving without hard work and some real gut wrenching stuff along the way. It's all part of a process. And part of that process is waiting. Waiting to see what comes next, waiting to see who comes next, waiting to see where to go next. Waiting….

There was a time when I was between jobs and doing the brutal interview trail. I would meet and greet and gab about my resume'. Had I taken the first job that I had been offered, I'd essentially be selling phone plans--"public relations" is a relative term. I would have been making money and paying the bills--true. And I would have been happy?--false. Taking the immediate opportunity would have been security; waiting on something better was the best decision for the process.

Anyway, it’s not always about today. It's not even always about the immediate tomorrow. Sometimes it's about the whole entire future, and sometimes there are things that are just worth the wait.

The Levels of Lovely

2006-01-27T07:18:00.000-08:00

I am a hard person to impress when it comes to a person's looks. I mean, I will throw out compliments left and right if you deserve them, but I am not one to blow smoke up your skirt. If I tell you I like your outfit-- then I really like your outfit. If I say that your bag is awesome, then I am genuinely in to it. Such is the same if I say that someone is pretty. "Pretty" is just not a compliment that I hand out often. Honestly, there are only about three people whom I personally know that I think are truly pretty based solely on physical attributes. In this world of fake boobs and Botox, there are just few pretty people left.

"I may not be beautiful, but I know what beautiful is supposed to look like," as Mother always says. Actually, I am 99 percent sure that I inherited my hard-to-impress attitude from this woman. She is actually where this rating system of pretty (Levels of Lovely, if you will) originated. I grew up hearing the words "striking" and "cute" as the descriptive phrases of movie stars and Miss Americas. So, thanks to Mother, I don't look at a woman and think "she is pretty" or "she isn't pretty." No, I have many more distinctions than that.

I am a firm believer that most women fall into five different categories. While these categories aren't necessarily superlatives, "pretty" is the hardest category to obtain in my book...

Anyway, let us begin with my Levels of Lovely.

My first category is "cute." Cute is the word for the masses. There are a lot of females out there who are not ugly by any means. Neither are they beautiful. They have nice features--they don't necessarily have any distinguishing features--but they have symmetrical faces and probably a really great smile. They tend to dress in a manner that compliments their body. This person is called cute. Example: Lindsey Lohan.

"Attractive" is also a fairly common term for me. There are numerous attractive people in the world. They are pleasing to the eye and usually attract our attention long enough for a lingering look. Most of the men in the world feel fortunate to have the opportunity to date an attractive woman. Example: Debra Messing.

"Hot" is an over used term, but a very legitimate descriptive phrase in my vocabulary. "Hot" is a derivative of "sexy" (BTW--sexy isn't a look, it is an attitude). For someone to be "hot" they usually have an overwhelming sexual aura. There is not anything necessarily natural about "hot" anymore. I don't necessarily consider "hot" to be a desired compliment, but it is by no means derogatory either. Example: Carmen Electra.

"Striking" is one of those terms that I use with delight. People will look at me with that question mark look when the term comes out of my mouth. However, once they evaluate my observation, they usually agree with me. For someone to be striking, they must turn heads. They have a feature that really stands out-- the lips, the cheek bones, the eyes. Something draws you to this person when they walk into a room. You can't quit looking at them and you aren't sure why. Example: Angelina Jolie.

"Pretty" is at the very top of the list and the ultimate compliment in my opinion. Now, I don't mean, "She looked pretty (for her) on her wedding day." Pretty means that a person is pretty compared to every other person in the world at any given time-- not compared to herself when she hasn't fixed her hair or make-up. Pretty is natural. Pretty is something that make-up and surgery can not create. Pretty is something you are born with and there are very few people whom I label as pretty. I can't even think of a good example off the top of my head…well, except for this girl I went to college with… and she probably wouldn't want me to use her name. For celebrity purposes, I'll go with Jessica Simpson, Halle Berry and possibly Salma Hyeck.

My great-grandmother always told me that "Pretty is, as pretty does." So, I also have tons of other descriptive terms that go along with the physical features and can either upgrade or downgrade a person by a level--natural, classy, sophisticated, trashy, hooker, for example. But that's a whole other topic...

REBOUNDS

2006-01-20T06:47:00.000-08:00

I am by no means a very athletic person. I remember crying the summer before I started the sixth grade, because I knew that the P.E. teacher was going to make me play basketball-- I thought it was an unfeminine and stupid game. Now, I'll admit that my thoughts were mostly negative because I feared that I wouldn't be any good at playing. However, I participated when the time came.

I couldn't dribble worth crap--but since I played under the goal, well, I would just run around a lot and try to stay out of the lane. My height allowed me to make the First Team (we were ranked one through six), and my ability to rebound the ball and get it out from under the goal kept me there. What I realize now is that when you're one of the tallest girls in the sixth grade, it's easy to become a wonderful rebounder. Mix that height with the inability to dribble the ball and you have an "unselfish player who is always looking for who's open down court," as Mr. Sparks, the sixth grade P.E. teacher bragged on me to my fellow classmates. Anyway--

Rebound, the verb, is such a necessary part of a game winning strategy Mr. Sparks always said. You can tell the teams who want the “W” because they are the most aggressive rebounders. That's rebound the verb. But what about Rebound the noun? Is Rebound, the noun, as vital as a part of the game of love as it is in the game of basketball?

I had a very interesting lunch one day this week at which a Guy Friend of mine made the comment that he'd found his Rebound. Guy Friend just got out of a 6+ month relationship, so I'll admit, a Rebound is in order. However, the fact that he acknowledged the status of this unknowing girl as his Rebound, well that got me to thinking about my past dating history and whether or not I did the same thing.

Sure enough, when I think back on the people that I have dated in my life and then remember the break up of the relationship, well, in every single case there exists a Rebound. In the cases of multiple break ups with the same guy…multiple Rebounds. And let me tell you--I am still a good Rebounder. My Rebounds have always contributed to some of the most fun, off the wall and out of character moments in my life. Rebounds have never turned into boyfriends for me--and I think knowing that fact going into the situation eliminates the pressure that I put on myself in other relationships that I feel truly have potential.

Typically, my Rebounds are not anyone I would date under normal circumstances. Rebounds for me are nothing but fun. Rebounds rock! And then, thankfully, Rebounds roll out of my life in 2-4 weeks.

I guess that I, too, depend on Rebounds when break ups happen to get me through to the emotionally stable place where I am happy again as a single woman. Perhaps the correlation is more distinct than I ever realized before. Rebounds in love are exactly the same as rebounds in basketball-- their purpose is transitional. Indeed, Rebounds the noun keep the love game moving along just as importantly as rebounds the verb do in basketball.

The Bachelor Blog

2006-01-13T08:28:00.000-08:00

This week's disclaimer: I promise that the Friday e-mail isn't going to become The Bachelor Blog. Although I am already obsessed with the new bachelor Travis, I promise not to take advantage of your attention and rehash the episodes week by week. However, as with every other occasion of my life, I am often inspired to comment on a situation. The premiere of The Bachelor: Paris has such inspired one of these commentaries.

I will refrain from the play-by-play of the greatest season of The Bachelor EVER. I won't talk about the bad hair, terrible dresses or that awful shot glass. I am not even going to go into details about the Bachelor Bets that the Girlfriends and I have engaged ourselves in…just know that it involves money and I have a three-ring binder with spreadsheets, bios and colored photos. Anyway...

Today's topic was inspired by the psycho contestant we all felt sorry for yet still managed to hate. The one named Allie G. Allie G., an oncologist and obviously very intelligent person, single-handedly created a case for any man who’s wishing to prove that women can be psychotic. I hate to admit it, but she is the example of the reason that men think women have loose screws. She did.

For those of you who didn't see the episode, just a bit of background: It was episode number one and The Bachelor was meeting all of the female contestants for the first time. Allie G., who is 33, begins by revealing to the camera that "her eggs are frying." She then tells The Bachelor that she's ready to move on to the "reproductive phase" of her life. Um, hello? She just met this guy and she's saying that she's ready to have babies. Then, when he doesn't invite her back, she goes even more psychotic and demands that he give her a reason! "Am I not smart enough? Am I not pretty enough? Are my boobs too small? What is it?" She demanded.

I mean, maybe she is intelligent, and as she told the producers afterwards, she has devoted her time to her career as a doctor just like Travis has. (It was at this point that I almost started to feel sorry for her.) She's put off love, a family of her own, and other interests to pursue her medical career. Now, at 33 years old, she feels cheated. And let me tell you, she is ANGRY about it.

Now, with that background, let me expand upon my view of this situation.

While in theory she has "sacrificed" a lot to practice medicine, my question is, "But wasn't that your choice?" Surely she can not really think that she is owed anything because of what she has personally forfeited on her path to prestige. Her work is admirable, her commitment should be complimented. However, it is not anyone else's fault or problem that she made a personal choice for which there were trade offs. She was so into her career that she forgot that the woman in her would always be there. Now, she wants love. She wants a husband. She obviously wants children. (As she said that was the sole purpose for marriage. Yes, she really did.)

In All About Eve, Joseph Mankiewicz said, "Funny business, a woman's career: the things you drop on the way up the ladder so you can move faster. You forget you'll need them again when you get back to being a woman. It's one career all females have in common, whether we like it or not: being a woman. Sooner or later, we've got to work at it, no matter how many other careers we've had or wanted."

I think that dear, disillusioned, possibly a little dangerous Allie G. fits this description dramatically. But is it just Allie G.? Or is it just doctors? I don't think so. I see people all the time-- not just women and not just men-- who have made some sort or trade off for their career. They've given up a job to keep from moving their family; they have worked longer hours than necessary in an attempt to get ahead. And many of them are just like Allie G.…pretending that they're the only ones in the world who ever made a sacrifice for a dream.

The choices deserve respect and tolerance, but when an individual isn't happy with the choices in hindsight, is it everyone else's place to feel sorry for their misperceptions of reality? Maybe Allie G. didn't realize that dating would be hard in med school. Maybe she just lives in a black hole. Regardless, this girl has branded an image so deep in my brain of the perfect example of how selfish people can be. While uncontrollable circumstances are an exception, I will not feel sorry for someone's intentional choices.

You must live with the consequences of your actions…. Because no one controls those actions except for you.

Something Men Will Never Understand

2006-01-06T07:55:00.000-08:00

Men can talk all day about sports or politics or business mergers or guns. These things they understand. However, regardless of how much they pretend to know, there are some things that men will never figure out. Today's topic is devoted to one such phenomenon--

Why Women Go to the Bathroom in Groups

Ahh, women and the mystery of restrooms.

How is it that a woman with a college degree, promising career and keen fashion sense is not capable of using the restroom alone? A question so beautifully posed…and to a man, it is a legitimate question and often a legitimate joke. But, men, be aware that women are well aware that the bathroom in groups thing is a joke among the males. The thing is, women don't care.

Women know that men will never be able to grasp the concept of camaraderie that a commode can create. But don't get me wrong, it has nothing to do with the logistics or purpose of the room at all that contributes to the cohesiveness. The ladies' restroom has a type of cosmic power for creating instant conversation, and in some cases, instant friendships. On the rare occasion that a woman must go to the bathroom alone, there are always other females there ready to be her friend. Women can be cruel. Women can be vindictive. But within the walls of a bathroom, strangers become friends.

But mostly the girls' bathroom has been our own private place since we entered the world… way back in kindergarten it was the only place to hide from the boys who were chasing us on the playground. In junior high, it was the place we talked about our crush. Now, the bathroom represents the private nature of the female friendship. I have probably confessed more private details to my Girlfriends between the stall walls than in other specific location. "Ladies" written across the door really means, "No Boys Allowed." And to women, even though we're now grown up, there's something fun about that.

Whether or not men will admit a certain amount of curiosity revolves around the group bathroom experience, we all know that it does. And I will admit that men should be curious. They should probably also be paranoid, because most often the real reason that women go to the bathroom in groups is very simple. It is the same reason we went together in kindergarten and junior high-- to talk about the boys.

Is the Past Relevant in the Present?

2005-12-30T05:56:00.000-08:00

As usual, the week back at work after an extended holiday was grueling. Oh, yes, there was work to be done. I just didn't want to do it. I wasn't alone in this predicament, so the Girlfriends and I entertained ourselves via e-mail. We're notorious for this. One of us will probably, eventually get reprimanded (if not fired) for our excessive e-mail habit.

Anyway, I made up a game called "Did You Know?" Yes, it is as simple as it sounds. We simply tried to out do each other by telling stories about ourselves. Did you know that I (insert story here.) These tell-all tales ranged from childhood embarrassment to college "can't believe I did that" kind of stories. Well, as you can imagine, the e-mails were hysterical. The longer we played, the better the stories. The more time that passed, the juicier the details. One time I laughed so loud that someone walking down the hall stopped to ask what was so funny.

Anyway, one particular story during the game grabbed my attention. It ended with the phrase, "and that's why I refuse to discuss my past." Hmm, I thought. I absolutely agree. We immediately began to discuss the question of whether or not the past is relevant to the present as far as romantic relationships are concerned. Thus, the Friday e-mail was born and my side of the argument follows.

To some degree, the past is extremely important to any current relationship. The experiences from our pasts have created us into the people that we presently are today. So, in some aspects, the past is extremely relevant. However, I only declare the importance on a very general level. In no way should the details of a past relationship(s) affect what I am currently a part of. Obviously, the previous relationship is over. It did not work, and therefore the majority of lessons learned from it are probably of what not to do.

Now, I don't adhere to the viewpoint of not discussing the past because I have deep dark secrets that I am trying to hide. I don't have that many secrets-- if any, really. But what is to be accomplished by disclosing personal details of a past relationship to your current Significant Other?

At this point in my life, my past is so far gone that talking about it is a waste of energy. Unless there is something specific that happened that I feel is related to a conversation I am having with my current SO (and that I know will not offend my current SO) then I will always choose not to discuss it. I don't even spend time thinking about my past when I am alone, so why should I waste time talking about it to someone else?

Besides, I am such a different person than who I used to be. Telling stories about long ago would basically be like telling a story about a total stranger. It would be irrelevant to most conversations. What's in the past is in the past. As long as it doesn't affect the present, then it's useless information.

What Women Want

2005-12-16T07:22:00.000-08:00

"The great question...which I have not been able to answer despite my thirty years in research into the feminine soul is 'What does a woman want?' " ~ Sigmund Freud

If Freud doesn't know what women want, then how in the world do we expect the common man to figure it out? I say that jokingly, but it's true. If one of the greatest minds in the history of psychology can't figure out the answer to this age old question, then is it possible there isn't even an answer?

I think that Freud, and all men for that matter, have been looking for the wrong answer, because they are looking for those specific, universal things that make every woman happy. Well, for the men who have figured out the answer to the question (and, YES, some men have) the answer is that there isn't AN answer. Instead, there are numerous answers—all correct, although variable.

Let me attempt to give an explanation of what I mean by this statement.

Everyone knows that I am not married, but I am surrounded by friends who are. Most of these marriages are happy unions (not perfect, but happy). I watch these relationships intensely. I watch how they act and react. I listen to what they do and don't say. I evaluate where they go, who they hang out with, and when they do things together. The most obvious observation is that no two men treat their wives the same way. Yes, there are the common denominators of respect and trust and love, but the other variables differ as much as the shapes in a box of cornflakes.

These differences, however, are the key ingredients to understanding what a woman wants. There are no universal codes or lists. A woman’s wants and needs are as different as the individuals themselves. The men who have figured out the mystery have quit looking for CliffsNotes on the subject and taken the time to listen, to ask questions, and to respect the individual desires of the woman they wish to be with.

This fact, however, brings me to my point. In order for a man to figure out what a woman wants… the woman has to know what she wants for herself. This is the key.

Ladies, how can we expect for a man to figure out how to make us happy if we've never thought about what we really want for our self? How can we expect him to get it right when we keep getting it wrong?

I have been guilty of saying that I want certain things in a relationship… adamantly, thinking that I needed certain things in a relationship… professing that I must have X, Y and Z to be happy-- but all along they were someone else's desires that I had adopted for myself.

I'm beginning to realize my own wishes more and more. I am allowing myself to want things that other women don't, even when it's not the popular choice. I am allowing myself to agree with other women even though I previously thought that I didn't. I am allowing myself to change my mind when necessary and to stand firm when I am convicted. I am learning about myself. I am finding out that things that were important to me five years ago aren't important to me anymore. I am also finding out that some of my core values will NEVER change and will always be important. I am also finding out that I still don’t know what I want sometimes.

SO, I think that the key to answering Freud's question is two fold.

Women: Know yourself. Know what you need. Know what you want. Know where you'll compromise. Know where you won't. And importantly, know how to express what these wishes, stipulations and principles are.

Secondly, Men: Don't look for a magic formula. Forget the articles you read about what women are looking for. Listen to the person that you care about. Ask HER what she needs and wants; listen to her answers; and always remember the words of Oscar Wilde, "Women are meant to be loved, not understood."

Present Panic

2005-12-09T08:03:00.000-08:00

The Christmas season is upon us. It's one of my absolute favorite times of year. I love the cold and the carols and the candy. I love the bows and the cards and wrapping paper, but with it comes one of my biggest fears… opening presents in front of other people. I am not sure why I have such a phobia about opening packages, but it really makes me anxious to rip off the paper of an unknown item with the gift giver sitting there watching me.

Yesterday, holiday Present Panic set in unexpectedly as I ate lunch with a committee from work. There we were, enjoying lunch, talking and laughing. Then they did it. They pulled out a wrapped present and handed it to me across the table. Now, I don't want to come across as sounding ungrateful, because I really am grateful and quite appreciative of the thought. However, this sense of feeling out of control of the situation can almost make me nauseous. Luckily there were two other people who were also receiving gifts, so I dawdled and waited until one of them got into their package---so that I would be opening mine with a slight preview as to what was inside and preparing a post-gift-opening statement. (As it turned out, the gift was great--the cutest hand made ornaments from a specialty shop that I love. The ornaments fit my personality perfectly… I shouldn't have been so worried.)

The thing is, though, the panic happens almost every time. With the exception of Mother, Daddy, Sister and a specific Aunt, opening presents gives me near anxiety attacks. I don't know what causes it, and I don't know for sure why it's such a problem. I have an idea that it has something to do with my lack of a poker face and being unable to control my facial expressions should an obvious displeasement occur.

I don't really care if I get a bad gift as long as I open it alone. I mean, some people haven't mastered the art of giving the perfect gift, but that's okay. I think that the reason that I have such Present Panic is that I am afraid of hurting the giver's feelings. I have a fear of opening a gift and not knowing what it is. OR not knowing why it makes sense that I should have one of whatever it is. But the main thing that bothers me is that opening a gift in front of other people requires a post-gift-opening statement…it's got to be either funny, or clever, or some sort of "I've always wanted one of these." And what if I open a gift and have nothing clever or funny or honest to say about the present?

I hate that I feel this way, because I LOVE to GIVE presents. But this has been a problem my whole life. It's an inconvenience, and it's a terrible burden. The only good thing about my condition is that if I open a gift in front of you and I am elated--you'll know it's genuine. I am an awful liar and a worse actress.

So, if we're exchanging gifts this year, know that I appreciate your thought and your effort. I truly do. I apologize that I am going to appear anxious and little pre-occupied prior to gift exchanging…but once the Present Panic hits, all it takes is sucking it up and opening the present in order for it to pass. OR you could let me open my gift by myself in the bathroom…that would be the greatest gift of all.

The Consultants

2005-12-02T16:31:00.000-08:00

I am capable of concocting very imaginative, off-the-wall ideas sometimes. You all know that I am a self confessed Over Analyzer, and admittedly I can be a Drama Queen on occasion. (But combine these qualities and you get the perfect female, right? Hahaha.)

But seriously, females can be like that. We can take any scenario, over analyze it from every angle, throw in a dramatic response to the already overly analyzed situation, and then create some off-the-wall, gotta-be-crazy to do this plan-- usually in hopes of 1.) getting him 2. getting him back or 3.) getting back at him.

Which is why we must talk about some of the most important people in a Girlfriend's circle of friends— The Consultants.

The Consultants can talk you in from the ledge, talk you out of burning things that he's going to want back later, or simply talk you into moving on to bigger and better things. For me, The Consultants must be plural. It's a group of people whom I rely on for specifics—however, their jobs are individualized. Let me explain:

Consultant #1-- The Listener
The Listener receives the most calls that err on the side irrational-- the calls that I need to make when I need to vent. This person gets the calls when I'm really not going to do any of the things that I am saying that I am going to do, but since saying them makes me feel better, she lets me talk until I actually talk myself out of whatever I thought was a good idea 30 minutes before. The Listener doesn't really even have to offer advice--she just simply has to be there.

Consultant #2-- The Provoker
The Provoker is the person that I call when I don't want to talk myself out of the idea --when I actually need someone to encourage my behavior (because at times, it IS warranted). The Provoker hears my side of the story, and no matter how outrageous my theory or plan, she encourages me. I am not going to recall any incriminating details…but I will say that The Provoker is usually a factor in most of the "Remember when Kassi did this…" kind of stories.

Consultant #3--The Sidekick
The Sidekick is usually a very calm member of the party. She doesn't provoke, but she's always along for the ride. She's the Girlfriend that simply comes along to offer moral support. She'll help you catch him when he's cheating or hold your hand when you cry, but her major attribute is just simply being there and not judging you.

Consultant #4-- The Talker
The Talker is the Girlfriend who sees the rational side of a situation regardless of the current circumstances. She's the one that listens, takes your side, will agree that your emotions are warranted, but points out that your actions have consequences. She talks to you like a person--not a mother or little sister or an idiot (even though you may sound like one). The Talker talks--she offers mature, sound advice--and years down the road you're still saying thank goodness for her reasoning abilities.

Other consultants include:
The Hater--she hates the person in question so much that you might actually end up defending him.
The Questioner--she asks so many questions that you decide it's not worth even talking about the situation anymore.
The No-You-Are-Notter--she's the one that says, "Get mad at me now, you'll thank me tomorrow, but, NO. You are not going to do that."

Now, I don't know if these names of The Consultants are universal, I am sure that most women have their own categories. It is probable that different people can be different types of consultants to different Girlfriends. However, regardless of the title and regardless of which one you are, The Consultants offer a group dynamic that is irreplaceable and advice that is invaluable. Best of all, the only payment they need is for you to consult them in return.

Greetings from Golden

2005-11-24T20:27:00.000-08:00

A very cheesy poem for Thanksgiving…. Written by me.

The Simple Things….
It's the simple things in life that I am truly thankful for--
Like corn dogs in the cafeteria and the deer who didn't hit my car.

It's the simple things that remind that my life is really great--
Like snuggling when it's cold outside and staying up too late.

The simple things are blessings just waiting to be realized--
Like the second scoop of ice cream or extra ketchup for my fries.

It's the simple things that matter, not the glitter or the glam--
My Prada and my Louis do not make me who I am.

When you stop and think of simple things, money matters not--
So take the time to realize that simple things matter a lot.

When Your Parents Become Your Friends

2005-11-17T21:33:00.000-08:00

I often think about how blessed I am to have two parents--period. There are a lot of people my age who have already lost one or the other. I am also blessed to have two parents who are still married to each other. I am also blessed to have parents who are not only still married, but who are also still in love with one another. As I get older, I realize more and more how rare that is, too. But mostly I am blessed because I have two individuals who love me, who support me, who help me, who advise me, who cry with me, who laugh with me, and who laugh AT me when necessary.

But there's a strange occurrence that took place in my life some years ago. I'm not sure exactly when, and I'm not sure exactly how, but at some point in time--in some way known only to God--these two incredible people became more to me than just Mother and Daddy. Yes, at some point in time, my parents sneaked into my circle of friends. (They also became my friends' friends, which is kind of cool, too. There are three Girlfriends of mine that Mother forgets she hasn't legally adopted.)

See, when I was young, I was terrible. I mean, I was really terrible at home. I am still mortified by the way I acted toward my parents. However, I was an angel in public. My elementary school teachers basically called Mother a liar when she talked about how defiant I could be. Apparently I have been a perfectionist since birth and appeared perfect even in the first grade. Nevertheless, it was only an act. At home, I was terrible.

Thankfully, I eventually did grow out of that terrible phase, but the parents and I still dealt with all the typical tie-ups that parents have with adolescents. We survived junior high, endured high school, and tackled college together. Somewhere after that first outrageous American Express bill my freshman year, and sometime before I earned my degree, I realized that my relationship with my parents had changed.

As I prepare to go home for the Thanksgiving holiday, I am so excited. Everyone wonders what in the world I do for four or five days in Golden, Miss., without getting so bored that I pull my hair out. I can only describe it this way: imagine sitting around for an entire weekend with your best friend who lives far away. You don't really do anything except eat and laugh and talk and watch movies and tell remember when stories. But somehow, those become some of the favorite weekends of you life. Well, that's what it's like at my house every time I go home, because at some point in time, my parents really did become my friends. And what in the world is more fun than just being with your best friends?

Timeline Tolerance

2005-11-11T05:42:00.000-08:00

Am I normal? (If you know me, you'll probably say no, but then you'll also say that you're just kidding.) But seriously, am I normal? I know that I am a little opinionated and a little stubborn and even a little dramatic at times. I can also be selfish. I know this about myself. I am also very independent, highly motivated and pretty dang good at most of the stuff that I do.

But am I normal? I ask this question because recently I am starting to think that I am the only 25 year old female who I know that isn't either married or ready to be married and isn't ready for kids. Maybe those are just the conversations that I am acknowledging or maybe I really am abnormal.

Don't get me wrong, I do want to get married one day… I think that I'll probably, eventually, maybe decide that children are a definite. But TODAY, right now, at this very moment, all I really want is a boyfriend and maybe a trip to Europe.

I am tired of being stuck in the Mississippi mindset that a woman's role in life is to get married and produce offspring. I'm not saying that isn't important, because I think that it's the most important and precious privilege that God granted to women. I am just very adamant that the "normal" timeline does not have to be married by 24; children by 27; and begging for a Mommy's Night Out by 32. Of course, I am not ridiculing or criticizing any female who identifies that scenario as a goal in her own life-- if that indeed is what will make her happy, then I hope that is how it happens for her-- but my ideal timeline isn't wrong just because I don't have marriage or children anywhere on it in the immediate future. It doesn't make me "not normal. "

I have certain female friends who look at me like I have three eyes when I say that I don't want to be married right now. But I don't. There's way too much that I personally feel like I need to do, and experience, and see, and be, before I am ready to put on a ring and an apron. Even if I do decide to get married and if I have children, I don't know that I am going to be the best at it. My plants die now and I can't even take care of a dog… Nevertheless, the point is that my own choices are MY choices. My opinions are MY opinions. And no one but Kassi's Future Husband and Kassi will have to deal with either of those.

Anyway, I guess that the theme of today's topic is tolerance. So here's my promise to every female out there: I will not judge you if you will not judge me. I will not snarl my nose when you say you want to have a baby if you will not gasp and cover your mouth when I say that I do not. I will not roll my eyes when you talk about your husband's dirty underwear on the bathroom floor if you will not preach to me about how "it's time to get serious and find someone, Kassi." I will not assume your life is over just because you are married if you will not assume that my life hasn't started because I am not. I will never think that your life choices aren't important if you will do the same for me.

I will respect your timeline if you'll respect mine.

Drama Kings

2005-11-07T06:48:00.000-08:00

For those of you who called me out on missing the Friday e-mail, I apologize. Here you go--

Drama Kings...the truth behind the Queens revealed

I have been accused of being a Drama Queen a time or two in my life, and I'll readily admit that on occasion I have single handedly concocted so much self-created drama that I can be exhausting. Most women have had their reign on the throne for at least a brief period of history. However, many in the kingdom fail to realize that often a drama's protagonist is none other than the Drama King himself.

I have reached the conclusion that there are many Kings out there leading Drama Dictatorships and then blaming the Queen when they go to war. Yes, I am declaring that there are men out there who like drama. There are men out there who cause drama. AND there are men out there who are in denial about the origin of the drama in their own kingdom.

My decree is that many of a Drama Queen's dramatic and exaggerated emotional outbursts are direct responses to a Drama King's provoking. This provoking comes in many forms-- assumptions, criticism and lack of punctuality to name a few. Seriously, I can only think of a few of my own dramatic outbursts that were completely self-imposed. Most of my Drama Queen tendencies only rear their ugly head in response to some Drama King's initial, whether or not intentional, creation of the situation. Isn't it likely that Drama Queens are simply responding to the Drama King's drama?

I acknowledge that Drama Queens are more easily recognizable in society because women have not mastered the art of acting out dramatic scenes behind closed doors. Females react to drama anywhere, while Drama Kings have recognized their power is less persuasive if they act like a fool in front of friends. In order to perpetuate the stereotype that Drama Queens are limited to a certain gender, men have gone underground. They are part of a secret society that delves into drama like an Oreo dives into a glass of milk…Oreos from that hidden bag under the kitchen counter. Likewise, men have hidden dramatic and irrational emotions that are unveiled to women with mighty force but are never acknowledged in the outside world.

If women witness it, but no one in the general public speaks of the behavior, then does that make the Drama King status obsolete? Well, my hips and the Oreos would tell you no. Just because you didn't see me eat it doesn't mean that the effects aren't real, and just because you don't see the drama he caused doesn't mean he didn't do it.

Extensive conversations with the Girlfriends have led me to believe that I am not the only female who finds the Drama King act a little too much at times. I’ve heard accounts from numerous other women who say they have personally dealt with a Drama King. Almost every woman could quote stories, give me examples, or go as far as to make the proclamation that they know of men who won't even be in a relationship unless there is drama involved.

As to any rule, I realize that there are exceptions. I am very familiar with men who are so "non-dramatic" that they are practically comatose. I've dated men who have no real emotional reaction to any situation… which is probably why those men think I am so dramatic in contrast. But to set the record straight, Drama Kings are not something that happened long ago in a kingdom far, far away. Drama Kings are alive and well and most Drama Queens are dealing with one of them.

Now, can the Drama Kings and Drama Queens live together happily ever after? That might be a fairy tale in and of its self.

Definable Moments in a Relationship

2005-10-28T06:08:00.000-07:00

There are definable moments in every romantic relationship. The first phone call. The first date. The first kiss. The first time you meet the parents. The first time you say I love you. The first fight and possibly the (first) break up.

There are other moments as well, moments that are harder to define and harder to put a date on... the first time you knew you were in love or the first time you realized you wanted to marry a certain person. There is also a moment in every relationship when your skin changes.

Early in the first few weeks or months of a relationship, a person makes you feel giddy. There's such an excitement at the thought of a phone call or a date. The actual thought of him or her makes your skin tingle. As the relationship progresses, though, the cute things become less cute. The mild annoyances become major aversions and your skin no longer simply tingles at the thought of this person. No, at some point, this person actually masters the ability to also make your skin crawl.

When does it change? At what point does someone accomplish this phenomenon? What moment successfully creates the need to see a dermatologist?

Perhaps it is when they begin confiding to you that they have to go to the bathroom---like, REALLY go to the bathroom? What about when you see them loose control (anger or alcohol or some other extreme)? Or is it when one bad joke too many makes you want to strangle them rather than fake a laugh? Perhaps it's the first time that "She can't wait to see me" feels more like "She is literally trying to smother me…" Regardless, the exact moment varies for each individual and each specific relationship.

Unfortunately, even if we knew the particular moment, it doesn't mean we could avoid it. See, no matter how strongly we feel for another person, there are going to be days that he or she makes our skin crawl. There are going to be days that our skin will also burn and itch and feel like we are going to have to claw it off to get any relief. And to be fair, there are going to be days that their integumentary systems hate us, too.

While the moment that our skin first crawls is definitely a defining moment in any relationship, it isn't necessarily the beginning of the end. I don't think there's a problem just because the occasional crawl is present. A real, bonafide, potential to be something more than just a good time relationship is going to be filled with a lot more emotions than just the tingling and giddiness. To me, skin crawling simply signifies that I've put enough time and effort into a person to successfully live through the honeymoon phase. I am now on a path of genuinely getting to know a person and figuring out if I could love them in spite of their annoyances.

So the crawling isn't the real problem. No, the REAL problem is the lack of the occasion tingle, as I'm not saying that the skin tingling should indeed go away. I'm merely pointing out that it may be less frequent. But if there is never a tingle, and it becomes apparent that your skin crawls so much that you need to buy stock in Lanicane, it's time to define THAT moment and call it quits.

Would You Rather...?

2005-10-21T05:57:00.000-07:00

The Girlfriends and I play a game called "Would You Rather…" It's a spontaneous game played in the car or having dinner or just a random phone call perhaps.

"Would You Rather" works like this example: "Would you rather be able to travel all over the world and have flings with gorgeous men in every city but never find a soul mate OR be confined to the city limits of Pearl for the rest of your life and be with the love of your life?"

There are, of course, rules to the game concerning the scenarios-- There are not any extenuating circumstances, you can't ask questions about the situation for clarification, and you can't add qualifiers. No, you simply have to state what you'd rather do based on the options given. Sometimes the potential scenarios are gross… sometimes they are mean…sometimes they are hysterically funny….and sometimes they are serious.

Today's "Would You Rather" scenario is one that I have contemplated a lot recently:

Would you rather be physically cheated on (it was a one night stand and your significant other will never talk to or see that person again) OR emotionally cheated on (there was no physical contact at all, but there was an extended history of phone calls, dinners, personal time, and confiding secrets)?

Now, as we play the game, we talk through the scenarios and decide on a personal answer. Neither answer is wrong, but most of the fun of the game is listening to a person's reasoning behind her "Would You Rather?" decision.

Personally, I think that I could deal with a physical cheater better than an emotional one. The physical cheater isn't interested in the person for anything more than sex. I wouldn't be happy about it, but I think I could deal with it if it only happened once or twice and if there was legitimately no feelings involved. There would most certainly be a time period when Cheater wouldn't get to leave the house without a leash, but eventually I think I could get over a one night stand if I knew that Cheater loved me.

An emotional cheater would be harder for me to deal with. I think I would always feel a distance, a mistrust, and sense of betrayal. To me, the physical acts of a relationship are only important if there are emotional bonds. However, emotional bonds don't need to be physically consecrated to be passionate and deeply intimate. A person doesn't become close to someone through physical attraction alone; it's through conversational exchanges that relationships are cultivated.

Of course, the MOST devastating cheater is a combination of the two-- where there is not only a physical relationship established, but an emotional one as well. This is the one that ruins lives and families. Without a doubt I would need years of serious therapy to get over a combo-cheater. But if I'm playing "Would You Rather…" I'd rather deal with a physical cheater than an emotional one any day.

So, now it's your turn to play the game. Would you rather be cheated on physically or emotionally based on the above scenario?

Prince Charming

2005-10-14T06:43:00.000-07:00

I set myself up for disappointment. I have always done it. I always have. I think about trips or parties or dates and I build them up in my head to levels of excitement and fulfillment that no person or thing could possibly live up to. Then, when the event or relationship or conversation or work situation doesn't play out like my fantasy world, I allow myself to sincerely feel disappointed.

Well, I used to let myself feel disappointed. I stopped. (Okay, so technically I just stopped this week. Still, I made a conscious decision, and I stopped.)

I am no longer going to be unrealistic about future events. I am not going to put all my apples in one basket, as the old saying goes. At the same time, though, I don't want to resort to expecting the worst… that is a miserable existence too. So where's the balance? Is it possible that I can give up my fantasies which often lead to disappointment without adopting a pessimistic outlook on life?

In a way, I think that being positive, regardless of what is realistic, is a much happier life. However, being pessimistic permits us to prepare for and expect our disappointments. While being realistic should be the balance between the two extremes, I think even realists weigh on the side of pessimism most often. Honestly, I think none of these states of being are acceptable ways to drudge through life… I'll either always be disappointed or always be expecting disappointment. That's sad.

Recently, though, I have realized that it isn't a problem to be hopeful and optimistic-- I have every reason to be both. My problem is that my optimism produces numerous unrealistic expectations about situations. SO all I need to do is convert my optimistic daydreams into realistic endeavors.

For example, every time that my friends and I go out on the town, it does not have to be a night worth writing a book about. (This WILL be a hard concept to grasp.) I should instead look forward to the night because of the company I am with and time we are sharing. OR I shouldn't get so disappointed when the trip to the beach produces sunburned feet and the inability to wear the cutest shoes ever owned-- we should either prepare better or laugh about it. Honestly, not wearing the perfect outfit on vacation is not really the end of the world.

My point is that the way things happen may not always be with the precision or the glamour that we create them in our own little minds, but that doesn't make the situation wrong. I mean, Prince Charming may not ride up on a white horse with his sword drawn and rescue me one day. He may show up on a brown horse empty handed… but in the end, does it really matter?

No, I think that enjoying what IS is so much better than being disappointed over what NEVER was.

_______________________________________________________________

A little additional information......
Stating the Facts

I spend at least one morning every week trying to get in work mode for longer than an hour. I mean, it always takes me at least an hour to get going full steam ahead. What can I say? I am just not a morning person. Anyway, some days, though, it takes several hours to get in the groove. This week it happened on Tuesday. Don't get me wrong, I had plenty to do, but I was sleepy. I had gone to bed the night before late and with a belly full of Fair Food. I hadn't consumed enough caffeine yet, so I was sluggish.

SO, as always, I did what anyone does when suffering from lack of work motivation, I did a little online surfing.

Honestly, I was in the mood to shop, but I really have no extra money thanks to a previous uncontrollable desire to swipe my card. I decided not to torture myself by looking at the fall fashions that I couldn't afford. Tuesday I decided that I was in the mood to read instead.

Now, I know I write about some off-the-wall, totally irrelevant subject matter from time to time. However, I never pretend that my material is life changing or even necessarily relevant to anyone's life but mine. Nevertheless, I think that new ways to look at old ideas are fun and provoking topics are good for the brain. Therefore, I usually can read other people's stuff pretty non-critically and enjoy the entertainment value without analyzing the material too deeply.

This was not the case on Tuesday. There was an article that I came across that I feel the need to comment on.

Will he cheat? How to tell is perhaps one of the dumbest "scientific" based articles that I have ever read or that research money has ever been spent on. Really. If you want to read it for yourself, here's the link, or you can read my brief recap.

http://msn.match.com/msn/article.aspx?articleid=4522&TrackingID=516311&amp;BannerID=544657&menuid=7&GT1=7124=7

The article basically said that skinny/ average sized men cheat more than overweight men. Now, I am not sure how one little survey that questions men on what they would potentially do is an accurate way to predict that skinny men cheat more than fat ones, but that's the basis of this article. It goes on to say that overweight men have a lower sex drive, so basically they aren't interested.

Well, I have a slightly different opinion. If the statistics ARE accurate and thin men cheat more than big boys, my guess is that it has little to do with their own will and more to do with opportunity. Really, this article references men with waists of 40+ inches. Not many women (although there are some) would find that too attractive. SO my hypothesis is that the overweight men in the world have less of a chance of cheating, so they go ahead and admit that to themselves. When questioned about whether or not they would cheat, they say "No, I wouldn't cheat." BUT the "no, I wouldn't cheat" should be clarified and include "because I don’t think I would ever have the opportunity."

Now, we all know that I have an issue with obese people. I am sure that I will offend at least one person by writing this article, but that isn't my point. No, my point is that anyone, ANYONE, can use a survey…quote some numbers…state some facts... and publish an article the general population is going to take as fact without questioning anything. THAT is what bothers me.

On the other hand, if overweight men really don't cheat… maybe I need to get over my issues with obesity and teach myself to think fat fellows are attractive.

Random Dialing

2005-10-07T06:22:00.000-07:00

I have a really bad habit of Random Dialing. I don't mean drunk dialing… no, I mean Random Dialing. There is a difference. Random Dialing occurs during completely sober moments. It originates out of boredom.

Initially, it wasn't a big deal, you know? Random Dialing usually occurs without significance, without even a second thought. BUT then, one day out of the blue, it happened. Now what do I do? ( What am I talking about, you ask? So glad you did….)

Here's the situation:

It was all innocent enough in the beginning. I was bored. I wanted someone to chat with, someone to talk to. All the Regular Dials were busy, so I picked up the phone and begin to scroll through my numbers. "I can't call her because she's out of the country….can't call him because his GF gets mad…can't call her because I haven't returned her shoes yet…" THEN like a diamond in the rough, I saw a name.

"I haven't talked to So-and-So in a while…yep, they'll work." And I did it. I pressed SEND. Everything began well. Pleasantries were exchanged. Conversation followed. A half-hearted promise to stay in touch ensued. Good byes were said. And we hung up.

Now, the Random Dial meant nothing to me. It meant NOTHING. In my mind, it was a way to kill 15 minutes of boredom. BUT that's not how Random Dial took it. Random Dial thinks I want to pursue a budding friendship. Incessant phone calls from RD are totally disrupting my life-- I'm screening calls, deleting messages, and making up excuses why we can't get together. For Heaven's sake, it was supposed to be a Random Dial, no strings attached phone call. What went wrong????

When did Random Dialing become so complicated? Maybe I should begin my randomly dialed calls with a disclaimer: You are the victim of a Random Dial. The caller is not nearly as interested in you as she is going to act. She is bored and is simply hoping that you will get her through this lull in her day. Do not be excited and do not call her back to follow up on this conversation... But that sounds like a bitchy thing to do, even to me.

SO, you all are my witnesses that I'm giving it up and you can rest assured that if my number shows up on your caller ID, it is deliberate and it's because I want to talk to you.

(In my best Scarlet O'Hara impression)
"As God is my witness, I'll never Random Dial again!"

Tailgating Etiquette

2005-09-30T06:21:00.000-07:00

Co-authored by
C, L, W and L

Tailgating for football games is absolutely one of my favorite things in the whole entire world.

The Browns tailgated all of my childhood, throughout high school and during my college career at State. I've loved tailgating since I was a little girl, and with every game I love it even more. However, I have recently realized that not everyone was taught the same general rules of Tailgate Etiquette that I had the privilege of learning at such a young age.

As hostesses for what was a Great Tailgate this past weekend for the MSU- UGA game, some Girlfriends and I could not get over the inappropriate behavior of some of our attendees . I avoid saying "Guests" because in my opinion, I know Guests. Guests are invited, or at least you know their names. There were people who attended who were definitely none of our Guests…I suppose it was a compliment that random people wanted to hang out with us, but no Guest of mine would have behaved so poorly.

SO, after much contemplation and conversation, I feel the need to share our version of Tailgate Etiquette as it was discussed post-game (prior to Hurricane Rita destroying our tent…with us actually still in it):

1.) Buy your own alcohol.
IF you walk up from a visiting tailgate, it is common courtesy for the host to offer you food and beverages--that's the tailgating way. However, if you have assigned yourself to Great Tailgate as a permanent attendee for the day, you should be consuming your own beverages and not sneaking it from out of someone else's cooler. As one of the Girls pointed out, "We're 25 years old-- and that's too old to be stealing beer."

2.) Bring your own chair.
It is common knowledge that next to mingling, sitting around for hours upon hours talking is the most fun part of a Great Tailgate. There's nothing like the big circle of friends who reunite a few times a year to tell "Remember when...." stories and perhaps make some new ones in the process. But when Great Tailgate hosts and hostesses have no where to sit because people they don't even KNOW have wandered into the area and taken over their seats, well that's just annoying. Please get up when it's obvious that the people who DID bring chairs (and extra ones at that) don't have a seat anymore. REALLY. Get up.

3.) The people who spend the money on the tent get to seek shelter under the tent.
When it's raining, and the tent is full, but you didn't pay money for the tent or anything in it, PLEASE move and let the people who actually own the tent come in out of the rain. I seriously watched people cram under the tent while Hurricane Rita blew through, and while the tent owners stood in the rain trying to shield themselves from the elements with nothing but a rain jacket. That's not fun. And when these rude tent-hoggers loudly proclaimed, "I'm not going anywhere," that was the final straw.

4.) If you did not cook the food, do not criticize the menu.
As stated in Tailgate Etiquette statement #1, part of the fun of tailgating is roaming around and seeing other people. And common courtesy says you'll offer a beverage and a plate to every guest who visits-- and a good host/ hostesses plans the amount of food according to the amount of traffic the Tailgate usually receives. BUT when you visit a tailgate, it is not very appropriate to announce that you do not like the food, wish there was a certain item that there is not, or complain because there is not any more tomato for the hamburgers.

5.) Tailgates are not separate from general rules of respect or courtesy.
Please remember the manners your mother taught you. These include, but are not limited to, the following:
*do not lick the icing off the cupcakes and then put them back on the tray
*don't burst the piñata if it isn't your birthday
*don't wear the helmet chip 'n dip bowl on your head unless you know that the person who owns it won't mind
*don't destroy the tent while the hosts are at the game
*throw away your own trash

The Girlfriends and I would like to extend a very special thank you to our new friend, "Georgia," for saving the tailgate supplies from thieves. You are invited to be a Guest at our tailgate any time.
KB

Perception IS Reality

2005-09-23T06:37:00.000-07:00

I have said it, you have said it, we've all said…"Well, that's not how it looked."

We argue a point, we make our case, and we wait on the verdict. However, it is very obvious to me that the actual facts of a situation are secondary in nature when it comes to understanding the reality of a situation itself. Reality is NOT about the technical facts of a situation. For most people, reality is simply the perceived facts of a situation as they are known to us.

The technical facts aren't even worth discussing. Perception is reality, and therefore the facts are minimal.

Take for example a married man who is seen at a bar late one night with a women other than his wife. Now, perhaps there are extenuating circumstances and the meeting is very easily explained--the technical facts say they're old friends or former business partners. The meeting is technically innocent. There is "nothing going on."

BUT let's say that one of the man's co-workers sees this couple together, he doesn't know the woman but knows she's not this man's wife, and so he assumes they are "together." While it may be an assumption, and the technical facts may completely dispute the assumption, the perception of the situation is that a married man is out with a woman who is not his wife. Fair or not, and with the popularity of infidelity in our country, that is the third party's assumption… and his assumption IS reality to him (and everyone else he tells this story to at the office.)

Maybe it's not always on such a grand scale…for example, my grandmother got pulled over for speeding one time. Maybe you have to know my grandmother to fully appreciate the story, but anyway. She was driving my grandfather's pick-up truck, and in the bed of that truck was a bloody, dead rabbit and a garden tiller. Now, Granny Pete knew nothing about the dead rabbit (which was a pet that one of my cousins had killed "accidentally" and Pop was supposed to be burying it somewhere.) Anyway, to make a long story short, the officer thought that my grandmother had killed the rabbit with the tiller and then put both into the bed of the truck. Obviously not what happened. BUT perception is reality.

Now, sometimes the idea of perception being reality can actually work to our advantage. Work is a great example of this. On occasion, I get a break--no big deadlines, no huge projects, and time to just shop online. While I am technically not working, I am at my computer and have purposefully placed notebooks, ad drafts, writing samples marked with red ink, etc. around on my desk. I also keep one project minimized on my screen to open in case the boss peeks in. Technical facts show that I am shopping at Neiman's… perceived facts say that I am working my little heart out. Once again, perception is reality.

I say all of that to say this, people need to understand that other people's perception of a situation can be more important than the technical facts. Perception can be more complicated, more painful and more believable sometimes. While it may not be fair, and it may not be easy to admit, it doesn't matter what you're doing "technically" if everyone perceives it as something else. Perception is reality, and that's the bottom line.

That Feeling

2005-09-16T06:59:00.000-07:00

The Girlfriends and I had a mini-Laguna Beach marathon on Sunday night… some of us had already seen all of this season, but some had missed the last couple of weeks and were trying to catch up before Monday night's new episode. In the process of watching/ re-watching Season 2, we were forced to relive Jessica and Jason's traumatic break up. As we sat piled up on the couch together, we watched Jessica cry…we watched Kristen console Jessica's broken heart… and we watched Jason walk away apparently unaffected.

It was in the middle of all of this that Girlfriend made the comment, "I hate that feeling."

That Feeling. It doesn't have to be explained to any girl. We know it-- we sympathize with anyone who has to feel it. That Feeling. The one that makes your stomach hit the floor… the one that makes you want to throw up immediately…the one that makes you cry when you don't even know why you're crying.

That Feeling. UGH. It makes me sick just thinking about it.

This involuntary reaction is most often associated with those situations in which a man makes us feel stupid, look stupid in front of our friends, and then, consequently, act stupid because of it. I usually associate it with cheating and/or breaking-up.

One of my worst memories of That Feeling was when I was in college. I hadn't been able to make a certain weekend trip to New Orleans with the Girlfriends. But EVERYONE else was there for a party--my boyfriend at the time included. I'd missed them all weekend long and was so glad it was finally Sunday and that everyone was coming back to Starkville-- but the Girlfriends called me from the car to tell me that we had to talk when they got home. That is never a good sign.

I'll never forget it, they walked in the door (in a single file line, like they were on a mission), sat me down on the couch, and proceeded to tell me how Boyfriend had been running all over Bourbon Street with some girl we went to school with--holding hands, dancing, etc. etc. etc... before they supposedly disappeared together.

Let me remind you that every friend of mine in the world at the time, give or take a few, was in New Orleans this weekend and, thus, witnessed this affair. Boyfriend not only made me feel stupid, BUT he made me look stupid in front of my friends, too. That Feeling hit immediately. (And, yes, in response to this situation I acted stupid. But I prefer not to relive that part of the story…)

Of course, that wasn't the ONLY time I've had That Feeling. That Feeling has been induced on numerous occasions in the past…and I've witnessed it more than enough times with my Girlfriends' drama throughout the years. I hope that I never have to witness it again, or Heaven forbid, experience That Feeling again. BUT I'd say it's pretty certain that I will witness it. It's probably certain that I will experience it.

However, I guess a life lived without That Feeling would mean that I've lost my passion for life and for others…that I've lost my ability to care for someone else…and that I've lost hope for myself.

I've realized that That Feeling symbolizes so much more to me than what a man has done to me--That Feeling is actually part of an ongoing process. And it's a process that I hope will eventually lead me to a person who will do their absolute best, for the rest of our life, to never make me have That Feeling ever again.

Over Analyzation

2005-09-09T07:49:00.000-07:00

I am lucky to have such an eclectic group of Girlfriends--they're single, married, black, white, Christians, Atheists, rich, poor, sweet, bitchy, etc., etc. etc. The variety of perspectives keeps me grounded… keeps me honest... and keeps me laughing. The variety of perspectives also proves that women are women no matter their socio-economic status or religious creed.

SO I talked with one of my Yankee friends this morning (who, BTW, is so jealous of the fact that I actually get taken out on real dates... she says chivalry is dead north of the Mason-Dixon Line...) Anyway, our ritual is to talk a minimum of 20 minutes during the day (it's a toll free number for me to call her, and no one cares if she calls me because in her case, it's totally "work related.") ANYWAY, this morning's phone call was all about playing catch up on our personal problems. Apparently, Yankee has been having problems getting through on the phone lines recently, so we had numerous stories to evaluate.

We spent endless minutes discussing-- NO, discuss isn't the right word. We spent endless minutes analyzing boy problems and office fall outs. Over analyzing to be perfectly honest. And then the real irony of the conversation-- we analyzed why we over analyze.

I do it. I know I do it. HELLO. MY NAME IS KASSI. AND I'M AN OVER-ANALYZER.

Yankee brought up a great point to me--especially concerning an ongoing situation with one of her Beaus (there's always more than one with her). She said that she has over analyzed their situation-- phone calls, lack of phone calls, timing of phone calls, who said what, who DIDN'T say what, why he hasn't called, why he has called--she's over analyzed it all so much that she's become emotionally attached to the situation. Figuring out this Beau is now her personal project. But, as most of us women can identify with, it has very little to do with Beau. By Yankee's own admission she's not even sure if she likes Beau or not. Her interest isn't in him so much as it is in trying to figure him out. Oh, touché.

Women are just cursed with the need to analyze their situations--specifically romantic ones. And more often than not, it's not even related to the feeling we have for the person--it's about figuring out the situation in general. Creating drama in the process and thus keeping our lives a little more exciting.

I do it, too. Over analyze, I mean. I will wonder why someone said what they said. What did their tone mean? What did that look mean? What was the motive behind an action?

It's pretty interesting how my brain works, too-- it NEVER stops. Why do I over analyze? I have no idea. Maybe it makes me feel in control? Maybe it helps me justify actions that aren't necessarily justifiable. OR maybe it's just a way to pass the time. I am not, however, vowing to eliminate the over analyzation of situations from my daily routine. It's way too much fun.

And besides, what on earth would the Girlfriends and I do if we weren't drowning in the drama that is self-created by the practice of over analyzation?

Do Something

2005-09-02T06:17:00.000-07:00

As I watch the endless news coverage of Hurricane Katrina, my tv shows me more than my mind can comprehend about living conditions just a couple of hours away from me--it looks more like something from a movie than a way of life.

I think of the women and the children and the elderly and the generally good people who just didn't have the money to make the trip to safety, and when I think of them, I cry. Actual, literal tears respond to personal accounts I've heard via friends or images on my television that look like they might have been filmed in another country.

I am exhausted-- not physically, but mentally. I am overwhelmed by the photos coming out of my home state. I am in an utter state of disbelief... as seems to be the common theme among those of us stuck in Central Mississippi. I feel helpless--utterly and completely helpless. Most of us here in my part of the world aren't living comfortably--no gas, many are still without electricity. BUT we're merely inconvenienced comparatively....

I also feel ashamed. This disaster has highlighted to me my own selfishness. It's highlighted how much I take for granted every day. It's highlighted how little I praise God for His blessings until something devastating opens my eyes. And I am ashamed.

But a dear friend helped me realize something a few days ago-- there is only a need to feel ashamed and selfish if I sit back and do nothing to help the victims of this tragedy. If I do something-- anything-- I can transform those feelings of shame into outward displays of gratitude. My actions will tell the world that I am not willing to simply count my blessings-- I want to be a vehicle to spread those blessings to others.

So my plea to everyone reading this: DO SOMETHING.

Maybe you write a check to the Red Cross. Maybe you go volunteer to look for survivors. Maybe you donate blood. Maybe you organize a collection for an evacuee center. Maybe you take in a family who no longer has a home. Maybe you'll go help rebuild eventually.

It really doesn't matter what you do-- just do something.

*********************************************************

What’s the most critical need? MONEY. If you want to give, here are a few places to start:

The Red Cross
What they provide: shelter, food, and counseling.

AmeriCares
What they provide: relief shipments of cleaning supplies, personal hygiene products, and other basics.

America’s Second Harvest
What they provide: hunger relief.They also need: donations of food, transportation, and products (bottled water, utensils, bleach, disinfecting household cleaning items, and diapers).

The Salvation Army
What they provide: food, water and clean-up kits

Tag all donations as "Hurricane Disaster Relief." Even the smallest donation is a step toward rebuilding.

If you'd prefer to give items to the victims.... According to The Red Cross, the following items are at the top of their needs list in evacuee shelters: Wash Cloths, Towels, Diapers, Toiletries, Toys for Children, Water, Gatorade and Bedding

Central Mississippi's Official Red Cross Shelters

Broadmoor Baptist Church
First Baptist Church Of Ridgeland
Crossgates United Methodist Church
Star Baptist Church
Madison United Methodist Church
Richland Gymnasium
Mississippi Fairgrounds Coliseum

Friends

2005-08-24T13:56:00.000-07:00

I usually don't share personal or serious stuff with y'all… the Friday e-mail has been an avenue to have some laughs and poke some fun at myself and occasionally others, perhaps get philosophical on occasion as well:) However, I am leaving this afternoon to drive to Birmingham to be with my Daddy as he has heart surgery in the morning-- which automatically puts me in a serious mood.

Now, this isn't going to be a sad or depressing entry about how much I love my father (although I adore him!!!) or how much I have worried about him (although, some of you know better than others how much I have). No, today's early Friday e-mail is about one thing: Friends. And how I sometimes forget how blessed I am…

I have been reminded recently that I am truly lucky and that I have the greatest friends a person could ever ask for. All this stuff with Daddy has just reminded of the fact that I am really lucky to be surrounded by so many wonderful and unselfish people. I have done nothing to deserve the love or the concern or even the phone calls… but I've gotten so much love, so much concern, and more phone calls than I thought possible over the past week. It's been overwhelming. It's been humbling. And it's been a wonderful reminder that I never have to face anything by myself.

SO, specifically to those who have heard me cry and felt my apprehension… I just wanted to say thank you and I love you.

To all of you who read this e-mail because we are friends…in whatever way… I just want to tell you how much I value you as a part of my life.

And for those of you who read this although I don't know who you are, I hope that you are blessed with the same type of wonderful friends where ever you are in the world.

Because I can't imagine life without mine.

Please keep my Daddy in your prayers. See y'all next week.

Pet Peeves

2005-08-19T06:05:00.000-07:00

A pet peeve is defined as a minor annoyance that can instill extreme frustration in an individual. Typically each person has several pet peeves that aggravates them more than the average person. Another person may not react as negatively or at all to the same circumstance.

I have been in a fabulous mood this week (insert an extremely sarcastic tone here).

I guess we all have those periods of time when things bother us more than normal. However, this week I have been super sensitive to annoyances and pet peeves… so much so that I have been keeping a running list of the past week's bitching points just hoping to somehow manage my stress level. I hoped if I wrote it down and officially recognized it, then maybe I would be able to release the frustration in some way… it hasn't worked so far, so I am hoping that going public with it will give me the relief that I am craving--

In no particular order,

The Ongoing List of Kassi's Pet Peeves:
1. Cell phones in restaurants and meetings
2. Buffets. There is no reason that mass quantities of food should be legal.
3. Whispering in a group-- If you can't say it to everyone at the table, then wait until your bathroom run.
4. Obese people eating-- there's a reason you look like that, so stop feeding your face. (AND fat children--quit feeding them, too)
5. Babies and small children at Disney World/ Six Flags/ the mall or anywhere they're too young to possibly enjoy-- it's August for crying out loud. Adults are so miserable from the heat that they want to cry themselves. Babies don't have the means to say they don't want to be there.
6. Ex-smokers who cough continuously when someone lights up next to them-- you used to smoke for goodness sake, quit carrying on so
7. "My child is an honor student" bumper stickers-- Really, is there EVER a need?
8. People who blow their nose in public-- grosses me out, go to the bathroom or step outside. The table is not the place.
9. "Reply to All" comments when I don't know everyone who was on the initial e-mail list to begin with-- I don't have time for your nonsense or your insight.
10. People who talk to you in the bathroom while you are actually using it-- this grosses me out.
11. People who don't use proper dinner etiquette-- there's no excuse for this one.
12. The use of the word "I" inappropriately. "Clare and I went to the store" is the correct use. BUT " Brock did not give Clare and I the present"... "Brock gave Clare and me the present"... IF it's after the verb, it's "me." That just how it is--
13. People who point out that I am in a bad mood. If you point it out to me, it only escalates the intensity of my bad mood.
14. Anal people-- the ones who are so worked up... all the time... about everything in the world. STOP. BREATHE. Better?

OK. I actually do feel better now knowing that all of you are going to be aware of my pet peeves. Please feel free to share your own--you'll be amazed how good it feels to actually let yourself complain.

The Two-Faced Male

2005-08-12T04:43:00.000-07:00

Women can be stupid when it comes to men. Very stupid sometimes. Even the most intelligent, self-sufficient and successful woman can fall prey to the predator that I call the Two-Faced Male. Most times these women don’t even know it’s happening, which is frightening.

Innocent, naïve women who are looking for love and just wanting a companion somehow fall for the delusion of the Two-Faced Male which convinces them that how a man treats a woman in private—when the two of them are alone together— is all that matters.

I hate to break this to you, Girls, but that’s so far from the truth. Granted, how Male treats you when it’s just the two of you matters— it matters a lot.

However, how Male treats you in public AND how he behaves when you aren’t around matters a whole lot, too. If he’s one way in public and one way in private, be prepared to be another victim of TFM. You’re in for a lot of sleepless nights, fights with friends when they try to “talk” to you about his deceitful behavior, and eventually not trusting your own feelings and second guessing ever motive and every action of everyone you date afterwards.

I would like to be able to say that I don’t care what other people think or I don’t need my girlfriends’ approval when it comes to the men that I go out with. But I do. And to me, it will always matter how Male acts when we aren’t together and what the common opinion of him may be.

First, it DOES matter if he’s an asshole to everyone he works with—if that’s how he treats them, then that’s how they think he treats you… and probably is how he will end up treating you in the long run.

Second, it DOES matter if he’s not a trustworthy person—if he’s lying to his co-workers or boss or friends, he’s probably lying to you about a multitude of things.

And it DOES matter if he has the worst reputation ever dreamed of— Why? Because if you can’t trust him with your reputation, can you ever trust him with your heart?

All the things he does when he’s away from you reflect back on you. Like it or not, that’s a fact.

Over the years I have personally ignored a lot of the characteristics of the Two-Faced Male that my girlfriends have pointed out. I have reassigned meaning to unacceptable actions, so I didn’t have to face the fact that a guy wasn’t good for me. Why? Because we all convince ourselves that when we’re in a situation, that it’s completely different and that it’s no one else’s business.

Justification of our emotions and behaviors comes from a place deep inside us that wants us to believe that we’re different—that our situation is different, but it’s not. The Two-Faced Male is out for himself, out to fulfill his own selfish agenda. SO LADIES BEWARE. The Two-Faced Male is real and he’s rampantly on the loose.

The Woman in the Elevator

2005-08-05T06:13:00.000-07:00

I got on the elevator in my office building ready to start another day….not enthusiastically necessarily, but content with my current work environment and happy to be alive in my own little near perfect world. So I got on the elevator as I do every morning (and, yes, I should take the stairs, but I usually don't have on shoes that are conducive to that) so anyway, I stood in the elevator listening to the usual chatter about children's summer activities and weekend plans, complaints about work loads and strenuous deadlines.

Now, I'm not a morning elevator talker. I'm just not. However, I AM the morning elevator's "Have a Good Day Person." It doesn't matter if there's two people or twelve people on board, I always say the same thing as I head off to my office on the fourth floor, "Y'all have a good day!" I figure it's the least I can do.

So anyway, as is customary, as I walked out the doors I made my usual charge, "Y'all have a good day!"

Now, most usually this is followed by at least one response of, "You too, Kassi!" (Sometimes they don't add my name, I mean I work in building with 650 people, but most of the time, at least one person on the elevator knows my name.) BUT this morning was different-- I said, "Y'all have a good day!" and all I heard as the doors closed was a voice from way in the back corner that said, "I remember the days of getting up and trying to look cute… rolling my hair…wearing heels…. she'll get over that."

First, let me point out that I do not roll my hair-- especially not for work. Actually, the only thing that has been rolled lately is me--- out of bed 45 minutes late and into work with wet hair almost every single day this week. Now, I am not denying that I try to look cute for work. I meet with lots of people, sometimes unexpectedly, so I do my best to at least look presentable. I do not, however, spend hours primping for work. If I'd spent hours primping, I'd look MUCH better than I did this morning. So, needless to say, I resented the accusation.

I wanted to turn around and say, "Look, this is me after 20 minutes (MAX) of 'getting up and trying to look cute' so don't get mad because I look better not trying than you ever would even with the help of a professional expert. Just because you've worked here for 84,000 years, have ungrateful children, and obviously haven't seen a professional hair stylist since the 80's, don't be mean to me."

Yes, that's what I wanted to say. But I didn't. I mean, that's not really how I treat people, and it's definitely not how I've been taught to behave in public… so I let it go.

Now, as I sit at my desk, I am silently praying that I never turn into a bitter old woman who no longer cares about the current spring colors or the latest fashion faux pas. But more importantly, praying that I don't become someone whose work has consumed them-- tricking them into thinking that getting up and coming to the office every day IS life. Praying that I will always remember that what I do at work is just a fraction of my day-- and just financially provides a way to do all the other things that truly make life fun. Praying with all my heart that I never confuse my career with my life.

Can You Ever Date a Friend's Ex?

2005-07-29T05:58:00.000-07:00

My day job is primarily a desk job. I sit behind a computer about 80 percent of my time. I survive the day's projects and deadlines by thinking about other things like upcoming fall fashion trends or reliving the latest drama of my girlfriends' lives. This day was no exception for that scenario. It was pretty much like every other day. The Girlfriends and I had probably sent no less than 200 e-mails back and forth-- we'd solved a few of the world's major problems earlier in the day-- but the main thing on the afternoon agenda was to decide what drinks we wanted for our "Cocktails by the Pool Party" that we were planning for later in the evening.

Then an e-mail arrived. A rather frantic e-mail, followed by the question, "WHAT DO I DO?" ---One of my best friends had been asked out by her best friend's Ex!!!!

WHAT? Doesn't everyone know that you cannot go out with a friend's Ex? It just isn't right! It just isn't right! It just isn't right!

BUT is it really wrong?

I mean, I've always said that there's no way I would ever date one of my friend's ex-boyfriends. I am sure I would be uneasy if one of the Girlfriends tried to go out with one of mine. But really, what's the problem? If I don't want him, why can't you have him? He may have broken MY heart…but just because it didn't work between Ex and me, does that mean he's automatically been taken off the market for another 10-15 women? Is that really fair? Is there ever a time when it's okay?

So the question of the day: Can you ever date a friend's ex?

I think this is one of those questions that has qualifiers. There is not an absolute yes or absolute no. For example, just because Girlfriend had two dates with Boy Toy who never called again does not necessarily mean that I can't have dinner with him if he asks me. No one can claim someone they only had a couple of dates with. Honestly, my circle of girls has coincidentally been on a date with several of the same Beaus. BUT this has only happened when the so-called "relationship" was on the surface and very short lived…and likely because we live in a town that does not provide the highest single male/female population.

On the other hand, if my friend was in love with him and was in a serious relationship with him, the answer is a non-negotiable. Never have I ever contemplated going out with anyone that a friend of mine has seriously dated or had feelings for. I just don't think that ruining an existing friendship-- and it DOES ruin friendships--is worth taking a chance on Mr. I've Already Broken Your Friend's Heart. Besides, if he's not good enough for her, why do I think he's good enough for me?

Now, lots of guys have said to me, "You just don't do that. You just don't ask out another guy's girl." Well, I have been asked out by friends of my exes-- on more than one occasion. I did not go, and I didn't go for a very specific reason--it's just an awkward situation. If my Girlfriend and my Ex go out (and by Ex, I mean someone with whom I shared more than one night of dinner and dancing) I wouldn't necessarily mind because of Ex--it would be the Girlfriend with whom it would be weird... If I'm over him, I'm over him. He can date my Girlfriend if she loves him-- BUT I would feel very awkward towards her because I know so much about him. What if they end up together and I have to stand up and give a speech at Girlfriend and Ex's rehearsal dinner? What am I going to say? "I knew Ex first and I'm so glad I thought he was an arrogant a$$. Thankfully, Girlfriend has low-self esteem and can tolerate his terrible behavior! They're a match made in Heaven." OR "I am so happy for you guys…he only took my heart, stomped all over it, and handed it back to me, but don’t worry…. I’m over it after a year of crying and a lot of ice cream." Hardly appropriate.

Anyway, I guess by the time you hit mid-20's and you live in a city that's as small as ours, if you really like someone and think there could be a future, then you should probably go for it…although I would strongly advise getting the "OK" from Friend first.

All in all, the bottom-line: I don't think the mere chance for love is worth the risk of losing a wonderful friendship.

Rules Are Meant To Be Broken

2005-07-22T11:25:00.000-07:00

It's funny, really, that all these random people who are reading my Friday e-mail feel the need to offer me topic suggestions. I usually just smile or laugh and say thank you-- but that's not how it works. I've proven that I can write on demand. I've also proven that the best articles aren't requests. Well, until now. I am not saying that this is going to be a great article, but I am saying that this one is a combination of someone saying, "You should write about that…" and me thinking, "that would be a great Friday e-mail."

(BACKGROUND: Two of the Girlfriends and I had taken over the table of a guy named Buster at a bar last night. Yes, that is how he introduced himself--and Buster seems to be what everyone actually calls him. Anyway, after a few minutes of get-to-know-you conversation, this 37 year old man was dead set that I should go out with his Buddy. Being the fun person that I am, we called Buddy and I proceeded to talk to him over the telephone-- asking him questions about the car wash that he owned, etc… Now, Buster basically already had the wedding planned out in his mind and was trying to talk Buddy into driving two hours to Jackson, when I said that I just didn't think that I could ever date Buddy. Well, Buster demanded reasons. I obliged and said that Buddy 1.) Lived too far away 2.) Had been married before 3.) Had several children, etc. I was trying to be nice. I am sure that Buddy is a great guy. BUT I am not going to go out with anyone whose friend set us up in a bar via the telephone. And just for the record, every time I walked past Buster for the remainder of the night after this conversation, he yelled, "There goes the mean one." Whatever.)

Anyway, I was trying to make it apparent that I was not interested in meeting Buddy. SO I just made the statement, "I am very picky when it comes to men."

Well, my Friend Boy is sitting at the table listening to all of this nonsense, so of course, he automatically takes Buster's side. Friend Boy demands that I define "picky". "What are your dating rules?" Friend Boy demanded.

Willing to oblige his inquiry and usually pretty ready to hear myself talk, I went into my usual answer of how a guy has to be this and has to be that. I elaborated that there are not necessarily specifics like hair color or lineage-- but I Iisted, generally speaking, what I look for in a person that I want to date. "My Rules" as he called them, included things like someone who makes me feel special, someone with whom there is such a connection with that I can't get enough, someone who is driven and someone who is honest, someone who is romantic. They have to be sophisticated. They have to be successful. They have to be attractive. No earrings. No tattoos. No drug problems, etc. etc. etc.

I was rambling on… thinking I was making a pretty profound soliloquy, when Friend Boy stopped me in the middle of my speech and said, "Kassi, rules about dating are meant to be broken. When you meet the right one, all those rules will go out the window."

Buster, the random guy whose table we had taken over earlier in the evening, felt the need to offer a "Hell yeah!" to this statement. And I must say that I kind of agreed with him.

Friend Boy got me to thinking… "My Rules" aren't really rules…. They're more of a self-defense mechanism. "My Rules" are what I have used to push people away for a long time. I've looked to these rules, thinking that they were in place to help me find that special person, when in all actuality, these rules were just a way to justify being scared of falling in love. I could justify it because when a person didn't meet these standards, then I declared it as "just for fun" and never gave my heart the chance to get involved really and to see if something outside of the rules and regulations could possibly make me happy.

I think Friend Boy is semi-correct with his statement, about the meeting the right one and the rules going out the window, but I disagree with the order. I think his sequence needs to be reversed-- because I don' t think I will meet the right one until the rules go out the window.

The Degradation of Dating

2005-07-15T06:05:00.000-07:00

I am normally not one of the "those were the good old days" kind of people, but sometimes I am really jealous of my parents. They grew up in an era when dating was magical-- a date itself used to be a splendid event. According to Mother, a baby boomer and relatively hip lady for a schoolteacher, dating was THE social outing for a Saturday night in the 60's.

"Those were the days when men still asked you out in person…picked you up at your door...and called the next day to say they enjoyed your company…and the girls, they wore their hair in rollers all day…. Got all dressed up in dresses and heels…. and borrowed their mother's pearls."

Sigh……………………………………………………………………….

I know, I am romanticizing it a tad bit. But dating today is just not what it used to be. Yes, we go to dinner, then we go out afterwards, and usually end up at a bar with 500 other people…. but that’s not a complaint… I personally need a balance of public time and private time and really do enjoy the social scene as part of a date (especially if you are really excited about the person you are with, this gives everyone else a chance to see you two together).

Anyway, my frustration with dating is that I feel like no one really converses anymore. We communicate, yes. But communication has been redefined to largely include IM-ing, sending e-mails back and forth, and sending text messages.

We talk, talk, talk all day via these mediums, disclosing every single trivial thing that happens-- "The maintenance man told me such-and-such about my car…” "I went to Char for lunch and ran into So-and-So…" or "I just heard the funniest joke…" To the point that when we’re together, we absolutely run out of things to say. If we don't actually run out of things to talk about, there is still the 99.9 percent possibility that we will get confused by what we thought the other person was trying to say….

Computer mediated communication often leads to conversations where the participating parties leave with two different conversational connotations. Each other's meanings are misconstrued, because there is no way to adequately express the emotional tone involved without facial expressions or voice pitch. Therefore, too much is left too vague, and two people who read the same e-mail walk away and have two completely different interpretations of what has just taken place…. Yes, electronic devices are killing relationships-- and the potential for relationships.

I'll admit that e-mail/ IM/ text messaging is a convenience. Especially for those of us who have friends in every time zone in the nation and whose sleeping patterns aren’t necessarily dictated by daylight. And for those purposes of communication, I think electronic talking is great. BUT when I'm going to see someone for a date in six hours, why spend those next six hours "talking" online? What in the world can be left to discuss at dinner? Not much….So there's an awkward silence. A struggle for something new to discuss. A long car ride home. A kiss on the cheek at the door. And then Kassi frantically calling Girlfriend to complain that the conversation that was SOOOOOOOOOOO great just a few weeks ago has just vanished. The difference, of course, is that a few weeks ago we had yet to exchange e-mail addresses or IM names.

For me, all this immediate access to other people has taken away some of the mystery and romance from the dating scene. When I am dating someone, I think it's intriguing to not know what someone does all day. It's mysterious to have to wonder where someone is. I'd rather crawl into bed with my phone and listen to hours worth of recaps rather than get 12 text messages/ e-mails/ IMs in the middle of the day with a play-by-play. I just think that it's good for the heart to wonder.

Unfortunately, easy access communication has led to the degradation of dating. On the plus side-- easy access communication has made complaining about it so much easier….

The Things Men Do…That Make Them Socially Retarded

2005-07-08T08:22:00.000-07:00

Let me defend myself before I even get started with this one-- I don't think that all men are dogs, I don't think that all men are idiots, and I don't think that all men are socially retarded. BUT some of them are-- and that's who this is about. If you don't think you fit into this stereotype, then maybe you don't. If you want to know for sure, read this and make your conclusion at the end….

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

MEN. The world population could not survive without them. Unfortunately, women have a hard time existing with them. It's not just because they hog the remote control or forget to put the toilet seat down-- women have a hard time surviving with men because men tend to be socially retarded. I know that I should be cautious in how I approach this matter, but I’m not going to be. I’m going to jump right in, probably way over my head, and just put it all out there for the women to love and the men to loathe….

First, let's talk about the fact that men obviously do not understand that how they dance is a direct indicator of other things…. Men who can't dance should never go dancing early in a relationship. I can easily look past the fact that you are a bad dancer if I've gotten to know you. I can potentially still like you regardless of the fact that you flail about like a fish as long as I think you are a great person. However, if I see you dance first (before I realize how terrific you are as a person) and you look like an idiot, I will have a hard time getting to know that terrific side of you without thinking about you lying on the bottom of a boat like a dying catfish. Now, I love to dance, BUT I love to dance with people who know how to dance. It's fine if you can't --but accept it when you can't. Save yourself the embarrassment of being made fun of, because women WILL reenact your dance moves to their entire group of girlfriends if it’s bad enough.

Speaking of what women share with one another, bad pick up lines are at the top of this recap list. Yes, I know that pick up lines are older than I am, but they are still stupid and still do not work. Most people would think that after the long list of jokes and bad websites dedicated to this lost art that they'd be just that-- lost. Wrong. Maybe men think it's funny to come over with some cheesy line or some lame question-- the number one being: "Don't I know you?" No... You don't know me... You know you don't me… So quit acting like I am going to have an epiphany, remember you from way back when, and declare my undying love for you. If men want to talk to women, they should try the civilized approach--"How are you?" "What's your name?" "Where are you from?" etc. I can even deal with "You have great (insert feature here)". Just don't use pick up lines that involve some terrible metaphor or ask a question that insinuates that I am not smart enough to know what you are trying to do.

On this same plane of retardation are the men who think women are only interested in money. I don't care what your profession is or what year you will finish med school. If you’re an asshole, then there's no amount of money that is going to change that. Just because you finished a graduate program, I am NOT automatically impressed. Although, money can overlook a multitude of sins…

Another thing that really tops the social retardation scale is how men will take you out to a nice dinner, maybe go out for drinks, and then when it's time to go home, they act offended that you actually want to go to your own home…alone. News flash: Shacking is not the pay back for dinner. Men who ask a woman out with the expectation that the date is going to last 14 hours instead of two should save their money and hire a prostitute. I am not saying that it never happens-- but don't expect it. Please don't act obviously offended when we say we want to go home.

One of the dumbest things I’ve witnessed is men acting offended when a woman that they’re friends with won't hook up with them. You know how it goes-- Guy-Friend decides that since you've hung out all day/ night, probably consumed too much of certain beverages, perhaps some innocent flirting, Guy-Friend decides that tonight would be a good time to put aside the friendship and get a little freaky. Again, this is retarded. If you are only my friend when it's daylight, what makes you think that will change when the sun goes down? Unless we've previously talked about having feelings for one another-- I am probably not thinking about it. Don't embarrass yourself by making a move and being rejected.

Now there are numerous other symptoms of the socially retarded syndrome. Getting a girl's number but having no intention of calling; repeatedly calling a girl and talking for hours but forgetting to mention that you already have a girlfriend; OR clinging to your ex girlfriend for “comfort” instead of having the, pardon me, “balls” to let go and ask out that cute girl you’ve been eying for months now…just to name a few….

While this syndrome affects a majority of the male population, it is manageable. Not curable. But manageable. All it takes is a woman willing to look past your faults, give you the benefit of the doubt, and act like you didn't just do the Roger Rabbit on the dance floor….

Recipe for Fun

2005-07-01T08:50:00.000-07:00

I can't believe it's the Fourth of July. I can't believe the year is half over. AND I can't believe I have to wear a swimsuit in front of so many people this weekend. I am not looking forward to it…. But that's not at all the focus of today's topic. It's just extra information for all of you.

Last night we all went out. I say "all" in a quite literal sense, because just about every male in Jackson was at this particular locale. Not that I am complaining, but it was quite an interesting scene as most of us girls usually feel like we out number the guys about 5 to 1. Well, last night the testosterone in the room was seething….which is probably why when that fight got sent out to the parking lot, I wasn't at all surprised. And besides, a fight (or near fight) automatically adds fun-points to the rating scale of the fun-night's recap.

See, there are definitely particular ingredients that make any given night a "This Is the Most Fun" kind of night. There are basic ingredients, of course, like being with your friends, having a cute outfit, and having at least one guy hit on you. I'd say that pretty much is the usual night. So if that is the extent of it, then the night gets ranked about a four. However, we usually get to add extras-- the events that really add flavor to the night-- and that's how a four turns into a 10 or a 12 or maybe even higher…..

Please allow me to share my personal list. I award one fun-point for each of the following:

Seeing my crush

Meeting someone new that might be a future crush

Someone falling down (if I am friends with this person, I usually give this two points, as I think that someone falling down is the purest form of humor)

Someone saying something that they will have to apologize for the next day, i.e. Last night, Girlfriend said to Kassi and Ex: "I think y'all should get married, Kassi" SHUT UP. She also followed this statement with, "Am I going to get yelled at tomorrow?" Um, yeah.

Kissing someone (give this two points if the Kisser is also the Crush)

Not kissing someone that I really like, even though I know they want to kiss me, just to keep them interested

Having an Ex confess their love (two points if I couldn't care less)

A fight (if I actually know the people in the fight, I have to subtract one point-- fighting isn't fun if I know the people)

Dancing with someone who can really dance

Strategically placing myself in the room so the guy I've been eyeing takes notice and then comes to talk to me

Not paying for drinks all night

Now, negative points can be awarded, but that list would be so long that I would get tired of typing. And besides, it usual is pretty specific to the situation.

Anyway, last night was about a seven, I'd say. So it was fun to start off the long holiday weekend. I am looking forward to the next few days, as I am anticipating at least one night that ranks about a 12 or so. We'll see….

Traveling Light

2005-06-24T06:07:00.000-07:00

I don't know how many of you consider yourself to be frequent flyers. I personally have traveled more in my recent life than I sometimes care to remember--at one point I slept better on a plane than I did in a bed. Frequent travel often leads to jet lag and weight gain, but it can also have it's perks. One good thing that living out of a suitcase has taught me is how to assess what items are really important to me and what items I can live without.

For example, while I may really want to take four pairs of black shoes, I have learned how to choose one pair --ok, maybe two-- and then coordinate outfits accordingly. And while I really will always like to use a different kind of shampoo every time I wash my hair, the eight bottles that are in my shower at home do not pack very well, so I choose one and go with it…. I can get four days worth of clothing, shoes, accessories and a hair dryer in a single carry-on bag, and I never pack more than I can personally carry alone-- because there's nothing worse than going through the madness of an airport and dealing with too much baggage.

I have to leave on another trip in the morning, so as I started the packing ritual again last night, I made a mental note of the airlines' baggage limit: two checked pieces per passenger, one carry-on and one small personal item... And as I packed, I began to wonder what the personal baggage limit should be for us emotionally? How much worse is it to travel through the chaotic terminals of life with too much luggage?

We've all known people who brought more baggage to a relationship than they could carry alone-- and the same as in the airport-- if you can't carry everything you have packed, then someone has to help you. Now, I personally do not think this is a fair practice. If I can pack everything I need for a weekend in one bag, why should I have to help you carry your bags just because you packed three? I shouldn't have to unless I want to. No, I just don't deal very well with other people's baggage.

Bad break-ups, family fall-outs and long lists of other tragedies can lead to emotional issues that weigh us down. Some people hold on to these memories, these scars, the disappointment and the anger for years--sometimes even for life. So when it comes to sharing in those experiences--whether in an intimate OR friendly relationship-- there can reach a point when there's more than someone else can be expected to deal with. There's a point when someone else's large amount of baggage makes it exhausting to be a part of the relationship.

Admittedly, I haven't always been a light traveler, but I don't need someone else to help me carry my stuff anymore… if they want to offer that's one thing… but I don't depend on someone else to carry it for me. Why should someone else get a hernia because I won't let go of the issues that are making me miserable? No one should be expected to deal with my excess emotional baggage, and I shouldn't be expected to deal with theirs.

I pack very light now-- including only the essentials and only those things that help make my life better-- because I've learned what I can let go of. And I want to be with people who can do the same. There's just nothing good about excess baggage... unless, of course, it's a new four-piece set of Louis Vuitton hard-sided luggage.

The One

2005-06-17T05:54:00.000-07:00

I love quotes. Quotes about shopping, quotes about eating, quotes about living life to the fullest, quotes about relationships....I found one the other day that said, "I'm not scared of commitment... I just need to make sure there's no one better out there."

I laughed out loud. It reminded me of some people I know--

Weird how in so few words, there seemed to be a profound explanation for what seems to bother many of us the most about relationships in general... that fear that there will be something better to come along.

Now that, in and of itself, I think has a lot to do with the society that we all live in... I mean there's always a newer version, a faster speed, a more current edition. We've been conditioned to always look for something better. But that's an entirely different tangent. I don't want to chase that rabbit today.

Let's go back to wondering if something better is out there...... I wish I could say that I had some divine vision last night and the Lord revealed to me a checklist on how to know when you've found the best He has to offer, the person who'll make you the happiest you can possibly be, a.k.a. --"The One." But this isn't quite that enlightening.

Now, I'm far from an expert on relationships-- obviously. But along with some close friends, we do have quite a bit of experience in finding "The Wrong One"-- some of us more talented at it than others. But through those less than perfect experiences, I think we've gotten a pretty good grasp on how to identify when our current beau just isn't him. Sarcasm aside, I'd like to share with you my "The One Evaluation" (as obvious as it should be already-- writing it down makes it a whole lot easier to evaluate):

First, think about that person that you are currently talking to/ seeing/ dating/ engaged to. Then, ask yourself the following questions concerning your commitment to this person--

1.) Are you always going to think to yourself, "Could I do better?"

2.) Do you feel like you should wait a little longer before you commit to them and do some more things while you're single?

3.) Are you going to feel trapped and like, "Holy crap, this is IT?"

4.) Will there always be a fear that if you get married to this person that you will find someone else that you are more physically attracted to?

If any of the answers are "YES," then I think you can say with much certainty that they're not really "The One" and you're probably wasting each other's time and pride.

Now, each of us must come to a conclusion for our self about what The One must be like, and granted, my expectations are different from anyone else's, but I think that the above questions at least gives me a general starting place for evaluating a situation.

One of my friends said this to me recently, "I have come to the conclusion (for myself) that... when the time is right in my life and in his, we will meet. There will be no serious doubts, much excitement, and the timing, because it's God's, will be just right. I don't think I'll have "what if" questions when I meet the right one. I just think I'll know that he is the person I want to spend my life with and I won't be able to imagine that it could be anyone other than him. Now, those are strong feelings, I know. But honestly, if I don't feel that way, I'm not going to marry them. If you're having thoughts such as, "could I do better?", then you can. or "will I find someone I'm more attracted to?", then you will."

Well said, my friend. Well said.

So, maybe I don't have a formula to be sure that I have found "The One." But I am confident that if I'm constantly thinking about "doing better" or "doing more while I'm single" or "feeling trapped" or "worried that someone more attractive will come along" then I can almost guarantee to myself that he's not ever going to be The One, well, not the one for me anyway...

The Meaning of the Means

2005-06-07T11:25:00.000-07:00

I am perfectly aware of the fact that today is Tuesday and not Friday. However, I am leaving for Las Vegas tomorrow morning, and I just don't think that writing an e-mail from Vegas is going to be a top priority… so it's a few days early. Read it now or save it until Friday, whatever you prefer.

The Meaning of the Means

Last week was super busy-- obligations, obligations, obligations. Work functions this night, social function that night, dinner with the girlfriends, etc., etc., etc. AND every future weekend seems to be booked as far in advance as I can order my Franklin-Covey refills. The out-of-town trips are piling up for the summer months, and I really just penciled in a Christmas party (it's June!!!). It's just seems never ending.

"I feel like I never sit down or even relax," I said to Mother during a phone conversation. "I always have somewhere I have to be or somewhere I have to go. I hate to complain, but it's getting ridiculous. I just don't know if I can keep this up much longer without falling over."

Mother listened intently on the other end of the line, inserting sympathetic confirmations at all the perfect places: "You're right….." "I understand..." "I've been there..."

So I got off the phone feeling relieved that I had all of that off my chest and sat down to review hundreds of photographs I'd taken at the most recent social gathering--there were pics with my family and pics with old college buddies, pics with former roommates and pics with new friends. As I looked through these pictures and thought about the complaining I had just finished, a wave of sickness came over me.

Essentially, I had just wasted ten minutes griping and complaining about spending time with these people…living life with these people... not in so many words, but essentially that's what I'd done.

I had fallen back into the trap that plagues so many of us-- the mentality that life is about surviving obligations and conquering to-do lists. Now, I understand that indeed life includes those things, but life IS NOT about obligations or check marks. It's taken me years to admit it, but I finally understand that a successful life is not determined by the number of things you can complete in a day or week or a month. If it's all about the end, then aren't we missing the means? And isn't the means to the end where all the fun stuff happens? (Kind of the same principle as a road trip with your buddies, 99 percent of the time, the most memorable stuff happens trying to get to the beach-- right, Bunny?)

It's the same with our lives. I sincerely hope you won't waste too many minutes stressing over that checklist or wondering how you'll tolerate one more engagement party. I wish for you to be someone that loves life and LIVES life… not just survives the day-to-day by marking off your to-do list. Because the means is where all the meaning is, and that's really what determines whether or not the end is a success.

Dear Anonymous

2005-06-03T07:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Anonymous,

I am writing to you in response to your request that I write about "why men don't show emotion.'" Well, while this is nothing necessarily factual, you knew I'd have an opinion, didn't you?

I wish I could tell you with certainty why men think "stoic" equals "strong" and "strong" equals "good." But I just don't know. However, I do know that I don't want to use this space to beat men up because our society has taught them that being a "real man" means being unemotional. Well, kind of. My own theory is that men ARE emotional, but as your request highlighted, men just don't tend to express their emotions as openly as women typically do.

Have you ever read Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus? It talks a lot about theories concerning men and women's differences when it comes to emotional reactions to certain situations. While it's far from the Rosetta Stone of relationships, it does offer some thought provoking ideas. According to this book, men (by nature) retreat when conflict occurs. They don't want to talk about it. They want to look for viable solutions and solve problems, but they don't feel the need to discuss how the problem itself is making them feel. Women, of course, are just the opposite-- they want to vent and discuss how a situation makes them feel but aren't necessarily looking for a solution.

Now, these are two distinct differences that automatically create confusion when men and women attempt to relate on issues-- especially with each other concerning relationships. (I think it is God's way of proving that He has a sense of humor.) Anyway, my personal theory concerning men's lack of emotional display revolves around a man's desire to be, or at least appear to be, in control of all situations and circumstances at all times.

For example, I talked with a guy friend recently who was struggling over whether or not to date a girl exclusively. He likes her-- that's obvious. And he says he could probably be in love with her if he let himself. But he thinks that she's hinting around and looking for a definition of the relationship, and he doesn't want to let her pressure him for a status because he "doesn't want to lose control"--his exact words. Now, is it just me or does falling in love not require a loss of control? As I told him, you have to be on the brink of getting your heart broken before you can ever fall in love. I don't think that was what he wanted to hear….

I can testify to the fear of losing control thing, because I am actually the same way in a lot of respects. I haven't always been like this, it's something I have watched evolve over time, but I've done little to disrupt it. I think that I almost have a full blown case of "Forget the Future, Live for the Moment, Break Their Heart Before They Break Yours- itus." I mean, I say I want to find someone, I say I want to fall in love, BUT I am so guarded and so reluctant to take another chance. Therefore, I have ended up with a roster of names of people that "I had fun with" but never allowed myself to become emotionally involved with, because that meant me losing control. And I just don't want to lose control again. So I feel I can identify with the average man on this level to some extent. AND as my fears about losing control increase, I also have realized that I am becoming much less emotional concerning relationships (or whatever they are) in the process.

(Hopefully this will all begin correlating very soon.)

SO going back to the description of men and women's outward portrayal of emotion-- Let's forget the "men" distinction, and just say that people who seem to be unemotional are probably just fearful of losing their perceived control of their own situations. I have no doubt that men and women have a lot of the same feelings, a lot of the same emotions, and most of the same questions about life and love--we just portray them differently. So while some of us are guarded and cautious about losing control, and we are therefore presumed to be unemotional creatures, remember it's just a variance of appearance. The emotions are there, and as soon as losing control is no longer a fear, those emotions can be freely displayed and maybe "falling in love" has a chance.

The Ex Factor

2005-05-27T12:25:00.000-07:00

Now, as of this moment, I can honestly say that I have the luxury of being friends with every person I have ever dated. EVER. I know, it sounds weird, and most people think I am weird for even wanting to remain friends with an Ex... BUT that's how I am, and I am proud of that fact. They each fulfill a purpose-- an advisor, a listener, a last minute date, a late night phone call, etc., etc.…. However, with every Ex, before we made the full circle back to "friends," I'll admit that there were some awkward and sometimes dramatic encounters.
Nothing in this world feels like running into an Ex, but in a city such as ours, it is almost unavoidable. Depending on the circumstances of the relationship (and of the break up), the encounter can either really spice up your night or completely ruin your entire weekend. If it's a recent occurrence OR if it ended badly OR if the current girlfriend of Ex is also in the same place-- look out because things can get spicy.

Keep this in mind: the Ex factor must be dealt with delicately to avoid calling too much attention to yourself, because even though we love attention, an Ex encounter is not necessarily why we want people to be talking about us the next morning… maybe "Kassi looked great last night" or "Kassi is so much fun to be around" but definitely not "Did you see what happened with Kassi and Ex at the bar?"

So, in order for the Ex factor to play out well, there are some things you need to be aware of--- first, you must be proactive in your approach to the circumstances, as it is ultimately your friends who will make or break the situation. Primarily, decide in what manner you want to be alerted of an Ex citing. Usually you will not spot them yourself, that's just how it is, it's kind of like Murphy's Law. No, usually a friend will spot them across the room or at the bar or in the bathroom line.

PLEASE LISTEN CLOSELY-- if you are the friend who makes the citing, DO NOT call too much attention to the situation. I have one girlfriend who completely knows this rule, but she gets caught up in the moment every single time. I don’t even have to wait for her to get to me to know what she's going to say…. her eyes get big, she grabs the arm of the nearest girlfriend and dramatic facials are exchanged, she points and looks in my direction, then (as if I haven't already figured it out), she sprints from her locale to mine, dragging friend #2 behind her-- drink sloshing, running into people-- and then about 10 feet out she whispers a yell--"Ex is HERE!!!!"

Really? I would never have guessed.

This is an example of how NOT to alert your friend that Ex is in the building. Instead, please be nonchalant. Once you zero in on the target, move slowly (but with purpose) toward your friend who needs alerting. Do not tell anyone else on the way to tell the friend either. It is not necessary that six people arrive to give the good news. Also, do not arrive without details. Take a minute before heading in to give the report and take notice of the situational circumstances:

Where is he/she standing?
Which group of friends is he/she with?
What is he/she wearing?
Does he/she look terribly intoxicated?
Is there a girl/boy with him/ her?
(IF there is a girl-- girlfriends will need to pay special attention to what she looks like and what she is wearing, as you MUST be able to give the "You look WAY cuter" confirmation with some sort of awareness of the truth.)

When you arrive to your friend's position, simply lean in and whisper only to him/her, "Ex is here, just so you know. He/she's standing by so-and-so and is with so-and-so and Mr./ Miss So-and-So is lurking." You may also add the status of his demeanor-- he looks good, he looks great, he looks like death, etc….

Now, once the announcement of Ex has been fulfilled, it is time to decide how you want to proceed. This includes making sure that Ex also knows that you are there. Do you talk to him yourself? Do you wait on him to come to you? Do you send in one of your girlfriends? Honestly, my favorite strategy involves none of these-- I actually prefer to use one of his friends. It is one of my favorite and most successful Ex factors. Find Ex's friend whom you clicked with the most, or who you feel had the biggest crush on you while you and Ex were a couple. Give him the hug, the small talk, and the opportunity to be reminded of how great you are….then walk away never mentioning Ex. If you bring up Ex, the run-in will be wasted, BUT fail to mention Ex and I promise that Friend is going to go straight to Ex to tell him he's seen you. It's like clockwork. Trust me.

Now, when Ex decides to make an appearance, it is very important to be nice. After all, everyone loves a nice girl. (This is another Ex factor that should be stressed to your friends. There's always one girlfriend who assigns herself as Hater. Hater's job is to give dirty looks and talk badly about Ex while he is standing two feet away from her. Stress to Hater the importance of social tact and if she can't be genuinely nice, then she needs to at least learn to pretend.) Anyway, kill them with kindness, as they say. No matter what the circumstances of the "break"/ break-up/ fight, there is never an appropriate bar conversation that will clear up or reconcile the matter. Do not attempt it. It has been tried. It doesn't work.

Only small talk with Ex about work, friends, etc. and do not ask questions about family or their personal life. Say good-bye to Ex like you would anyone else you ran into unexpectedly-- briefly and without any concern as to when you might see them again. Proceed with your night without a second thought to Ex. Use the encounter either as a reminder to yourself that there are some good people out there that you've had the privilege of meeting, or to remind yourself that you can do better (depending on your regard for Ex, of course.) Moving on is important regardless….

So whether it's tonight or next week or next year, and whether it's Ex, your boss, or a girlfriend who has disillusioned you about some situation, disappointed you in some way, or disregarded your feelings, deal with the situation with the same approach as you will now deal with the Ex factor-- Facing it with grace and dignity, not getting caught up in the drama, and using whatever your situation might be to prove that you are above it.

One Uppers

2005-05-20T07:30:00.000-07:00

So it's a joke among all my friends about how I manage to keep my job.... I am indeed the queen of senseless e-mails which often include quizzes and links to far-off websites. But what can I say, it is one of the perks of the PR world-- some days it's slow and the slow days have lent way to me getting creative. I have lists of things I want to do before I die... color coded maps of the states I have/ have not yet visited...names of children I like in case I decide the domestic route sounds appealing some day... I have even created PowerPoint presentations on what to do when you're bored at work. My "not so busy days" are what gave birth to my shopping sprees in the supply room and thus my first article-- Confessions of a Shopaholic-- which eventually led to the entire Friday e-mail fiasco.

However, regardless of the days when spare time is available, there are days when I feel like I am under more deadlines than I can possibly meet. And it's been one of those weeks. There have been days when I stayed late and came in early. There were days when the office work ended at 5 p.m. and then there's a social-work engagement beginning at 6 p.m. BUT, so's the life of a lot of you reading this....

Please notice that I am acknowledging that others of you do have busy lives. And this brings me to the core of today's topic: I hate One Uppers.

You know the type--- you say you had to work until 7 p.m. and they reply "I worked until 8 p.m..." You say you had three meetings on Monday, of course, they had five. You say you're booked every weekend until mid-August with friends' wedding functions, they say they they're booked until December.

One Uppers. They drive me crazy. You all know them, too. My question is this, what motivates a person to become an One Upper? Is it some sort of chemical imbalance in their brains or some long lasting effect from poor parenting skills? I don't know. And right now I am too frustrated to even have a theory. While I could choose to be PC about this, I won't. I think that One Uppers are the most annoying people in the world. I have to bite my tongue to carry on a conversation with them and I wish they'd all just learn to keep their mouths closed an extra 30 minutes a day. Preferably the 30 minutes they choose to tell me about "the worst," or "the best," or "the longest," WHATEVER it is that they're talking about that is way more extreme than any experience I have ever had myself.

Now let me point out that I am not railing on those individuals who share a personal story every now and then. Sharing personal stories and experiences make life fun and relationships meaningful. And sometimes we really do have a better story than the one we are currently listening to. Sometimes we really did wait in traffic longer or gain more weight freshman year or look longer for the perfect shoes or get a better deal on a designer handbag. So I am not talking about the occasional fact quoter who makes their point by verbalizing a personal experience.

No. I am talking about the chronic One Upper who has always done it faster, longer, harder, better, more often, and has dealt with more disaster, drama or despair than anyone else. Ever. In the whole world. Twice.

I don't really have anything else to say about One Uppers. I just wanted to point out that I don’t care for them all that much and the world would be a better place if they'd realize that they aren't receiving sympathy by "one upping" people. Nor do they sound more important…I think the only thing they receive is apathy for the next individual that will have to endure the one upper's 'oh so better' story about how much longer, harder, etc. they did whatever.

Might I add a suggestion to all you who feel as I do about One Uppers -the next time you encounter on of these people, try walking away while they are in mid sentence trying to 'one up' your story... there's no better way to state that you're just 'too busy' to hear their story.

The opinions and information stated here are those of the writer only, if you happen to agree, you are smarter than most. While she is usually correct about most things, use this blog for factual information or reference material at your own risk.

The Unwritten Rules of Living in the South

2005-05-13T07:11:00.000-07:00

Not to discredit my Northern/ East Coast/ and (one semi-)West Coast friends, but y'all may not fully understand this article. I know I still amaze you with my social expectations. So if you need further explanations after reading this piece, I give you permission to call me and ask questions this time-- it might be easier to clarify verbally.

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"Just because your children were born in the South does not make them Southerners. After all, if a cat had kittens in the oven, that wouldn't make them biscuits."

There are things in this world that are beyond explanation. Dinosaurs, for me, are an example. We seem to have proof they existed-- but for those of us who believe the world is only a few thousand years old as taught by Bible scholars, we have a hard time understanding the "millions of years ago" concept.

And there are things in this world that are beyond definition...like those arbitrary terms we spent an entire semester evaluating in Philosophy 4301.

Then there are rules that undoubtedly exist, but they are never spoken about in public... like the unwritten rules of living in the South. While I know a little about dinosaurs or defining the meaning of "will,” I also happen to know a thing or two about the unwritten codes that apply to Southerners. I swear, as a Southerner, I can vouch for the thousand tedious guidelines that we've been indoctrinated to revere. And honestly, I don't have a problem with most of them, as they all seem to fulfill their purpose of keeping us all believing we're just a little better than our neighbor from Illinois, our co-worker from Pennsylvania and the rest of the country, bless their hearts.

Someone needs to take the time to put the rules down on paper.... for if there's no proof that these rules exist, how can we hold each other accountable to them? So, I have decided to share with you a small list of popular, although unwritten, rules that apply to those of us living in God's country. They range from church attendance to thank you notes, and everything in between. This is not a finite list, as I intend on managing this one as an ongoing project…heck, it might become my first book... “heck”, being a true Southern word.

The Official List of Unwritten Rules of Living in the South

1.) It matters where you went to college.

But not like it matters in the North-- we're not concerned with Ivy League. No, in the South we want to know that you can play the name game that is associated with our state school athletics and, of course, Greek life. "I pledged with him” or "our mothers pledged together” or "I was there when ‘So and So’ coached" is the equivalent of "Harvard, Class of '67, Kirkland House" here in the Deep South. If you move to the South from another region - you already have one strike against you because you can't play the name game like the natives. I suggest you at least marry a Southerner if you ever want a chance of fitting in.

2.) Everyone is a member of a church.

And just because you might not attend that church on a regular basis, you will still refer to it as "my church." You will hopefully go to church for the right reasons, but you will go even when you don't want to go just to make sure that others see you there…so they will know that even though they watched you dance on stage the night before and then puke in the parking lot, you made it to church, so you’re still a good person. It doesn’t hurt to attend church for social reasons either, so you can then, in some social setting, possibly pose the question, "Do you go to that church?" Being associated with your religious affiliations in public is a good thing-- especially if you are the same religious denomination as your boss or your boss's boss. Southerners love that connection.

3.) Singleness for a female at 25 is looked upon as a sickness.

No one refers to it in those exact words, but they might as well! The minute mid-twenties hits and a woman is still single, her mother, her family, and her family’s friends start "praying that God will send you the right person." You can’t make a trip home without your grandmother hugging your neck and whispering in your ear, “Darlin’, it’s ok, he’s out there. You know, your Aunt Sue didn’t marry until she was 35.” Heaven forbid that we be 25 and still know how to stand on our own two feet without even conjuring up a scheme to get someone to marry us so we can have children and be “normal”. "I had children at your age" is common verbiage also. It is usually followed by the sympathetic, "You'll find someone one day," statement. As if that's all life has left to offer to you. AND if you're a female, and you're older than an already married sibling-- then there will be double pity on you. Especially if the already married sibling is a younger sister.

4.) If you are the last to marry out of your group of friends, you have to either do it the best, or have a destination wedding.

By the time fourteen sorority sisters/ brothers a.k.a. "best friends" have tied the knot, there's little left to be creative with, so the options are simple-- you either keep with the tradition of out-doing the one who got married immediately before you, or you have to go somewhere far away to get married. Destination weddings are easy ways to prove that you are the cool one of the group. Friends love destination weddings-- especially if they're invited with all expenses paid or even if they are only expected to show up at the hometown party that will be hosted after the couple returns from their honeymoon. It leaves the other fourteen thinking, "I wish I'd done it that way." Which is what you always want others to say about your ideas.

5.) Hooking up means kissing.

"Hooking up" is the acceptable term used to describe a make-out session. If asked to define, it means kissing. However, if the user of the term needs to indicate that the make-out session involved a little more than kissing, then he/she knows that the phrase requires a slight alteration, such as, we “HOOOOK—ED It Up!” vs. we “hooked up.” But since the term is vague in other areas of the country, in the South this term is used 90 percent of the time to describe kissing.

6.) Thank you notes are always required.

It doesn't matter if you only walked in and used someone’s bathroom…if you were a guest in someone's house, you must write a Thank You note. If you do not write a Thank You note, the host/hostess will still be nice to your face (because we’re Southerners), but will be sure to tell all that you are ungrateful and have no upbringing (which is of course one of THE greatest insults that can be bestowed on a Southerner). Thank You notes for gifts are also expected, especially for wedding gifts. Birthdays can slide occasionally, but not weddings. AND they better be on time-- to read a thank you note from a bride that has already celebrated a 3 month anniversary? Unacceptable.

7.) You can have fun, but you cannot be wild.

First, this is a double standard for boys and girls---boys can be as wild as they choose and are still called “being fun”. If girls are wild, they are dubbed as “trouble” and not "long-term" material. Don't get me wrong, Southern females can have fun in public-- but that's the extent of it, if you want to keep your “fun girl” reputation. But if a female chooses to be wild, she knows it can only be behind closed doors. While men are typically the female labelers, they can fool the public, if they choose to do so, by keeping their mouth shut on “behind closed doors” activities. This, when practiced (although not often), actually works to the male and female advantage-- if a male is capable of keeping his mouth closed – he is more likely get another opportunity to experience “behind closed doors” behavior with that female. As for the female, it gives her the opportunity to keep her “fun girl” status, yet she can act as she chooses with that male, without having to worry about her reputation.

8.) Prayer requests equal next week's gossip.

Group e-mails, Wednesday night Bible Studies, phone calls...however the "prayer request" is passed along, you can rest assured that after the prayer for healing, deliverance or understanding has taken place, the phone lines will be as hot as the gates of he!! as Aunt Elizabeth does her best to find out what kind of surgery...why there's a court date...if it's really the husband’s fault, etc. Yes, a prayer will almost definitely be sent to the Father on your behalf, but not without some detective work after it’s been sent to find out the juicy details.

9.) You do not miss holidays with your family.

If you plan a trip to Europe over Christmas, you better be planning it for the whole gang. If a Southerner is dating someone, engaged to someone, or married to someone that is not from the South, gosh help his/her soul. You won’t SEE your family during the holidays. And, if two Southerners date or marry, the family time is split…down to the minute. How dare you spend three days with Bubba’s family and only two days with your own flesh and blood.

10.) Don't you dare give a Southerner unsweetened tea.

Southerners are sweet, known for their southern hospitality, and charm…just sweet people. If you don’t believe us, just come on down. Along those sweet lines, there’s one major thing that requires a ‘whole lotta suga’…no, it’s not our grandmother’s goodbyes, it’s the official beverage of every state south of the Mason-Dixon line---good old homemade sweet tea. I DARE someone to suggest/offer/order or gosh forbid, GIVE a Southerner unsweetened tea. Even the most at risk diabetic living in the South will order his tea sweetened…and then add sugar packs to it.

So there's a sample.... Like I said, it's ongoing. But anyway, if you have additional thoughts on these unwritten rules, please let me know. I really would love to see some feedback on this one-- even if you want to add something I might not have penned yet.

Getting ready, going out, and coming home....

2005-05-06T13:17:00.000-07:00

I wish that I could always claim sole creative genius for the topics you read about here.... But I can't. More often than not, the finished product that you see really began as a random something or other that I overheard in the Starbucks line, or in today's case, a statement made during dinner with a group of friends. Yes, small side notes and off-the-wall after thoughts often spawn a web of wonder in my complex little head.

To begin this week's thought, we must back track to a recent weekend. Picture a table full of men and women discussing an upcoming social fiasco.... The women were reviewing a to-do list that included mani/pedi combos, highlights, waxing areas that only rivals the pain of child birth, the TB, and (of course) shopping. Yes, the females at the table carried on an half hour conversation about what must be done just to prepare for a high profile evening out on the town.

"What is everyone wearing?" "Will that shoe go with that dress?" "Hair up or hair down?" Really, so much thought, so much effort, so much time....

Now in the middle of all this discussion, someone made the statement, "All this work and I'll still go home alone on Saturday night without as much as a phone number..."

SO I began to wonder... is that really how it is? Do we really spend hours making ourselves up to get ready to go out just to come home disappointed?

Most of the single females reading this (if they're honest) would say that the hours spent in front of a mirror revolves around the potential prospect of finding a guy-- we're hoping to find someone who appreciates that pain was endured to have baby-butt smooth legs and that dollars were spent to make the tan look real. Yeah, that's what we'd say if we're honest-- it's all done to attract a male. In theory, yes, that IS the very reason we go to all this trouble. SO I started asking around, trying to figure out if a track record existed among the girls regarding getting ready and coming home.......

So I posed this question to my control group: How many times have you met someone, made a "connection," and then sealed the deal by leaving the party/ or bar/ or late night with them when you were.....(insert condition here)? I then posed a variety of scenarios concerning the effort that was placed on pre-game preparation..... My goal being to find out if the amount of get-ready time directly correlated with the success rate in the hook-up department. Ok, so it's not exactly scientific, but do you want to know what I found out?

You guessed it-- the overwhelming majority begrudgingly admitted that the long awaited, high-profile, hour-planned-for events, usually didn't end with someone waking them the next morning or even a little make out session in a coat closet..... And it's not that they've never brought a guy home at all. No, it's just apparently, the planning and preparation has little to do with attracting a male. Intense preparation actually seems to work against the success rate itself. According to my little poll, let a woman wear her old panties-- the ones that stay way back in the drawer so NO ONE will see them....put on those panties, with a bra that doesn't match, and not shave her legs. Apparently, this is the magical potion for catching a beau with whom to make out with until the sun comes up.

I do want to point out that I, nor my friends, are hookers. BUT facts are facts. Think I'm kidding? Try it next time, if you dare. See how long it takes. You'll be shoving those panties in your purse before you can call a cab. Some even admitted to shaving their legs once they got home--- claiming they "had to get the bar smell out of their hair."

As always, I don't want to tell you what to think, just give you something to think about.

But in light of this new information, and the fiestas that are scheduled for the next few days- Will you single gals be wearing matching underwear or cotton granny panties? Will you be waxing and shaving, or leaving it be? Just remember that the latter seems to significantly increase your chances of getting lucky..... ....whether he calls you or not the next day is an entirely different topic. Of course, that’s considering that meeting someone is even your desire. Because I can't send this out to you guys without saying that women don't ALWAYS go out 'searching' for a male counterpart, rather we sometimes just go to hang out with "the girls" and have a good time, which are typically the nights we wear our granny underwear and forget to shave...and typically the nights we end up in a steamy make out session. ;)

What I Learned from Buffalo Wings...

2005-04-22T11:58:00.000-07:00

Origin of the Wing Theory

I have some great friends. Really, I do. Great friends..... Fun friends. The kind of friends you can depend on for support, for constructive criticism, for entertainment... I have this kind of friends. The greatest friends in all the world... I also have the kind of friends who occasionally challenge you to do something which you are not sure you are capable of. And to those friends-- a.k.a. Brock and Colbert-- you can actually take some credit for the origin of this theory. Thank you for issuing me the "How Wings Relate to Life" challenge--

Let's begin by looking briefly at a few facts regarding the invention of traditional buffalo wings. Although there are several legends of their origin, this is the most widely accepted theory according to http://www.usabuffalo.com/buffalo-wings.htm:

The Disputed History of Buffalo Wings

"The history of buffalo wings is disputed but the most accepted story involves a small bar in Buffalo NY. Anchor Bar claims to have created "Buffalo Wings". There are four legends that circulate about the birth of buffalo wings. The one most people believe is the first version of the legend. Teressa and Frank Bellisimo owned the Anchor Bar and she invented Buffalo chicken wings in 1964. Her son Dominic and his friends came into the bar looking for a quick late night snack. "Mother Teressa" was preparing to make chicken stock with some wings. She stuck them under the broiler (they later started deep frying them)and dipped the wings in a hot sauce she made with a commercially available base (Frank's Red Hot). She served them with celery sticks and blue cheese dressing (the house dressing). From that moment, Buffalo wings just took off. On July 29, 1977, Chicken Wing Day was proclaimed in Buffalo in Frank's memory."

The Wing Correlation

I'd never thought about it before, certainly never researched it, and wasn't even sure if the correlation between buffalo wings and life actually existed or not, but I now think that in some very profound ways, the history of the buffalo wing actually does exemplify how life is affected by our unplanned actions--

Review the above history-- notice the most meaningful thing in this account is that buffalo wings were not created out of an extended campaign to create a food legacy. Instead, they just happened by chance. Teressa Bellisimo wasn't sitting around thinking about how she wanted to invent a food that would be solely American or a sports bars' icon. No, Bellisimo was just going about her daily routine when this creation was born. She faced an immediate need using the resources at her immediate disposal and, in the long run, ended up with one of the most popular foods ever to be paired with beer. Why? Because her son was hungry, she loved her son, and in her reaction to his hunger, the buffalo wing was born.

I think what strikes me as so unique about this seemingly unimportant food invention is that it wasn't planned-- nor did she know how many people would eventually be affected by it. SO, the buffalo wing indeed becomes the perfect way to correlate how our seemingly insignificant actions, often unplanned and usually without thought for consequence, really can impact other people, and sometimes even the world.

To me, this correlation isn't profound. Actually, it's just the opposite. This idea is quite simplistic-- it's just that it is repeatedly disregarded, because we all live in our own little selfish worlds. We're a generation who has quit thinking about how lives-- our actions, our decisions, our motives-- impact other people. Often in more ways than we can fathom....

ANYWAY. Am I saying that a buffalo wing should become the hallmark of life? Not necessarily. BUT as I think of this concept, I realize just how much we should learn from the history of the buffalo wing. These truths we should apply to our lives everyday because of the lessons that wings teach us:

1.) I am not an autonomous creature, and my actions may eventually affect you just like your actions may eventually affect me.

2.) When unplanned circumstances create a dilemma, I will act quickly and face the situation with the best resources that I have available.

3.) My reactions will only be born out of love, if not out of love, then there will simply be no response.

I will not go out with a man who's not worth being into...

2005-04-15T11:47:00.000-07:00

A few months ago I read the book, "He's Just Not That in to You." And I have to say it made me laugh so hard I cried... quite an entertaining concept and I have to admit, it's probably not that far fetched based on my own personal experiences. The book has taken a lot of hits from women who think it is too general, and they argue that their situation is different, blah, blah, blah. The argument is that the book's "rules" can't really be rules because there are too many exceptions. Well, anyway, this isn't a book review, although I do enjoy that, too.

No, this is about the one thing in the book that the author seemed to have grasped better than any woman I've ever known- including myself- at the time when I first read it. I have had this posted in my office since December, but I just ripped it off my wall. Let me explain why:

So the author's list reads as follows-

I will not go out with a man who:

(a) Keeps me waiting by the phone
(b) Is not sure he wants to date me
(c) Makes me feel sexually undesirable
(d) Drinks or does drugs to an extent that makes me uncomfortable
(e) Fears talking about our future
(f) Is married

Now a few of these are indeed non-negotiable, the married thing and the drug thing just don't do it for me. However, after looking at this list day-in and day-out for several months, I have had a revelation about the other four mandates. And it's kind of made me mad. SO to all my guy friends, here are some further explanations on the rules above. Use it to your advantage:

Rule #1: I will not go out with a man who keeps me waiting by the phone. OR who uses e-mail/ text messages/ instant messenger in place of the phone and thinks it counts as significant conversation. If you want to talk, call me or talk to me in person.

Rule #2: I will not go out with a man who is not sure he wants to date me. OR who thinks that hooking up after the bar IS dating. OR who only wants to do something with me when he's sure that all his friends are out of town and he won't miss out on anything that's possibly going to be more fun. Make up your mind and decide whether I am worth the risk or not, buddy.

Rule #3: I will not go out with a man who makes me feel sexually undesirable. OR who thinks that I automatically want to sleep with him just because he's paid for dinner, or because I am spending the night. Not everyone is a whore, and not everyone has sex on Date #3-although that is supposedly some magic number. Some of us actually want to get to know someone before deciding if we're going to hop into bed and unveil the sexual tiger in us;) And sometimes we just like to snuggle. If you are sexually attracted to me, I will know it-you don't hide that kind of stuff very well.... And if I'm not attracted to you, you'll know that for sure too. And I give major props to all you male snugglers...although some may find it feminine/cheesy and not worth their precious time, these are the men who haven't figured out how far it can get you with a girl.

Rule #4: I will not go out with a man who fears talking about our future. OR who wants to talk about the future all the time. OR who assumes that every female is thinking about the future to the extent that she needs to vocalize it by week four. OR who thinks that every woman is automatically counting down the days until she will marry and have babies, etc. etc. etc. If you bring up the future and I clam up and say I am just trying to have fun, suck it up and realize that men aren't the only ones capable of using that line. Sometimes the moment is more important than the future.

SO my point is this: Men, don't generalize and think women are all the same. Obviously, we're not. We're not even close.... With my group of girlfriends, our lists of "I will not date a man who..." is so diverse I sometimes wonder how we can even carry on a conversation about the male species. We all want something different.

AND: Women, we must recognize that every man wants things unique to him, too. Just because the last guy screwed you over and broke your heart doesn't mean the next one will...although don't rule out the possibility - your heart is definitely worth some guarding. Still, don't treat #24 just like you treated #23-that obviously didn't work.

BUT most importantly, consider this: If we are lucky, we're going to have one truly successful relationship in our entire lifetime. Don't compare and don't assume that all men and all women are the same. Don't act like you care if you don't, and don't act like you don't care if you do. Take the time to think about what is personally going to make you happy in a relationship, then make your own list. Put it on the wall or in your closet or just leave it in your heart, but know what you need and what you want.... And if they're not worth being into, leave it alone.

My Thoughts on This Friday Morning

2005-04-08T11:57:00.000-07:00

Ok, y'all know me by now, and how I think I could be a New York columnist that would put Carrie Bradshaw to shame… Well, I haven't been all philosophical on you in quite some time. Actually "Confessions of a Shopaholic" and "The Taxi Cab Theory" are the last two mass circulation articles I remember contributing to the group. Usually only Clare has to endure my brainstorming sessions. ANYWAY, this morning, I had one of my less profound thoughts on my way into work-- but it's interesting enough that I feel the need to pass it along…. Let me warn you, it's a little sentimental.

Perhaps it's because my birthday is in a few days, or maybe it's that I'm going to Starkville for the weekend and that always makes me very nostalgic, I don't know. Nevertheless, I began thinking about how much my life has changed since this time last year. I won't bore you with the details (and most of you know them anyway), but what a difference a year makes, huh? SO I began wondering how different my life would be right now had a few key events not taken place-- two particularly: What if I had never left for that year to work and live out of a suitcase? What if I had never moved to Jackson?

Now I know that at this point in reading this you are wondering why in the world I felt the need to share this with you…. Stay with me, please.

This is my newest theoretical question based on the background information above: First, assume that we all have these same types of profound events that benchmark our lives so vividly that we can point to them and say, "That is when my life changed." Now, if we do have those type of events, do they have to be specifically identified in order for us to understand the magnitude of their impact? Do we have to be able to point to a moment when our life changed in order for us to appreciate what could not have developed without it? Or is it possible to appreciate what is, without thinking about what might have been?

I've always been told not to dwell on the past-- not to think about the "what ifs?" But I am really starting to think that you have to have those moments of wonder and reflection, those moments where you say to yourself: "How would my life be different if this thing had not taken place?" I think that the happiest people I know are able to tell you what has changed their lives the most, and that although not every event has to be a positive outcome, there just has to be a realization that without that event, we wouldn't be the people that we are at this very moment. You have to recognize it. And then you have to appreciate it.

I could go on for hours on how much I've thought about this… But I think that would defeat the point of my writing, which is this: Think about what events have made such an impact on you that you could honestly say, "That changed me." And then, whether it's a positive or a negative in your mind, say a little prayer of thanks for what that event, or that moment, or that conversation, whatever, did to create you into the person that you are at this very moment.

You are loved and appreciated by more people than you know, simply for who you are. And everything in your life has created you into the person that you are today-- and I am so thankful for you and for every experience of your life.

The Taxi Cab Theory

2005-02-25T11:57:00.000-08:00

I sat on the couch last night watching Sex and the City re-runs with Mollie-Walker…both of us in our pajamas eating left over Valentine chocolates from her second graders….and we got into a conversation that went something like this:

I'm scared of wasting my time on the wrong person.

I'm scared of wasting my time, too.

How long before you know? When is it obvious that it isn't going to last?

How long can you not know and it still be okay?

So I began to think to myself, how is it that some people can stay in a relationship for years and still not be sure of a long term plan while others profess to know in only a matter of a few dates that the end is here? Is it possible that there's never going to be a way to be sure that our time isn't being wasted, or is dating about wasting time until we are personally ready to make a commitment?

Remember that whole Sex and the City episode about how men are like taxi cabs? They ride around the city and offer frequent rides to whomever will climb on board, but are unavailable emotionally to any of their passengers…. But then one day-- SNAP-- the light goes on, they're ready, and the next passenger will be the one they marry? Okay, so maybe Carrie was a little far fetched…but what if she isn't?

What if our view of dating as a means to an end has set us up to live a life of analyzing and second-guessing? Are we missing the fun of life by failing to enjoy the journey because we're only focusing on the destination? I dare to say, that yes, we are missing more of the good by focusing on tiny bits of the bad. We are missing the enjoyment of time with girlfriends because we are wishing we had a date. We are missing the comfort of a lazy afternoon, because we are wishing for someone to share it with. We are missing the joy of time alone and self exploration, because we can't put aside the feeling that we need someone else to make us complete….

I propose taking the focus off finding "the one" and start to enjoy the moment. I'm not saying we should boycott plans or never go on dates, but we must consciously decide to be happy people because of who we are, and not because of someone else. We need to learn to love the nights when we sit at home alone in bed reading a good book. To love the nights when we order greasy food and watch scary movies curled up on the couch with one of our girlfriends. We need to appreciate being able to make plans on the spur of the moment because we have no one to check with but our self. We need to truly appreciate the things that we don't miss about being in a relationship--at least we always know what we're thinking and always have our very best interest at heart.

So if the taxi theory is right, and one day a guy's going to show up in our life ready to commit to us, I can believe the theory is true for the following reasons: because he's done all the things he wanted to do as a single, he is happy with himself but is ready to share his success with someone special, and because he realizes that life will be more meaningful when there's someone there to share your accomplishments and console you in your failures… if that's the premise of the taxi cab theory, then you know, I can't argue with that theory at all.

Confessions of a Shopaholic

2005-01-21T11:38:00.000-08:00

You know that feeling you get when get something new? That sense of excitement over buying a new pair of jeans or finding the perfect shoe.... the rush that comes with bringing home your new purchase and showing it off to your friends.... And you know, sometimes it isn't even important to spend a lot of money-- you can sometimes get that same feeling from small, insignificant purchases, too-- a new lip gloss or maybe just a new CD.

Well, friends, it hit me today that I really have a problem with shopping. I am officially addicted to the rush. I legitimately have a problem and might need professional help. No, I didn't buy the Jimmy Choos from Neiman's online (since that would mean I couldn't eat for a month).... No, I did a much, much sadder thing-- although I am not sure the pleasure could have been heightened even by a designer label....

I treated myself to a shopping spree..... But it took place in administrative services... AKA "the supply room." You would have thought Prada had just passed over a new handbag I was so excited when I got back to my office. I couldn't control myself.... I now have the ultimate in desk organization gadgets, some new mechanical pencils, another pair of scissors ( #7 since I began in July;) and anything else that I could carry without asking for a cart.
I have been on a journey into the depths of my soul, and I am here to confess that I am officially a shopaholic.

Hope you all have a terrific weekend. And if you're shopping, call me!

Pre-Date Questionaire

2004-09-17T11:59:00.000-07:00

So I have complied a simple questionnaire that all future dates and potential boyfriends must fill out prior to my accepting an invitation to a date. Feel free to copy and use.

Name:

"Cool nicknames" bestowed by any friends --please include a history of how the name originated:

Age 1 (literal age in year):

Age 2 (age acted around your friends):

Age 3 (age acted when you are drunk):

Please circle all that apply:
I have emotional issues.
I have serious emotional issues.
I have super serious emotional issues due to my repressed homosexuality.

I enjoy spending time with my friends.
I like spending time with my friends and their wives on a regular basis.
I don't need a girlfriend--and I don't need sexual activity.

I want to find a special person and see what might develop.
I want to have a good time but am not looking for long term.
I only want to hook up.

I am afraid of getting hurt but think it's worth the risk.
I am afraid that I will never find love and don't want to try to find it--if it happens, it happens.

I am afraid that I will lose control and not be able to sit on my couch and watch tv by myself so I am avoiding relationships at all cost.

The female body is lovely.
The female body is lovely and enjoy XXX movies from time to time.
The female body is beautiful and I am a VIP at Danny's.

I like a routine.
I like a routine and get a little perturbed when my routine is interrupted.
I am set in my ways and must make plans at least 4 days in advance-- "hanging out" must also be scheduled.

Length of longest relationship (with a female):

Did this relationship end due to any of the following issues (circle those that apply):
1. I have a fear of intimacy.
2. I have an STD.
3. I have a child.
4. I am scared to commit but like to go through the motions so people won't think I am weird for not dating.
5. I am a dork.
6. I am rude to the friends of the women that I date.
7. I am immature, selfish, and arrogant.
8. I am scarred by past experiences and refuse to work through them-- I'd rather be alone than face my fears.
9. I am addicted to alcohol.
10. I am a butt hole.

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