Choose the Present

Not All Gifts Come in a Box

2011-11-06T06:31:00.000-08:00

My sister in Charleston, South Carolina sent this "letter" to me. I usually hit the delete button on any Internet chain letter that asks me to forward to eight friends in the next 30 minutes or horrible things will befall me. Spam and scams are not for me, but I hope this one goes viral in a big way.
I've already made a commitment to buy "Made in the USA" this holiday season and beyond. I don't think the government can fix our economy but I believe the American people can by reinvesting the dollars they spend in home grown businesses, local people and local real estate.
I've developed the habit of checking the label of clothing and other items to discover the country of origin. I'm so tired of buttons falling off sweaters, zippers that break after a few uses and as a result I'm trying very hard to break my Calvin Klein dress habit as they are made in China...
Why not buy outside the box this Christmas? Maybe even have a box-less holiday--how novel is that?
Christmas 2011 -- Birth of a New Tradition
As the holidays approach, the giant Asian factories are kicking into highgear to provide Americans with monstrous piles of cheaply produced goods --merchandise that has been produced at the expense of American labor. Thisyear will be different. This year Americans will give the gift of genuineconcern for other Americans. There is no longer an excuse that, at giftgiving time, nothing can be found that is produced by American hands. Yesthere is!
It's time to think outside the box, people. Who says a gift needs to fit ina shirt box, wrapped in Chinese produced wrapping paper? Everyone -- yes EVERYONE gets their hair cut. How about gift certificatesfrom your local American hair salon or barber?
Gym membership? It's appropriate for all ages who are thinking about somehealth improvement.
Who wouldn't appreciate getting their car detailed? Small, American owneddetail shops and car washes would love to sell you a gift certificate or abook of gift certificates.
Are you one of those extravagant givers who think nothing of plonking downthe Benjamines on a Chinese made flat-screen? Perhaps that grateful giftreceiver would like his driveway sealed, or lawn mowed for the summer, ordriveway plowed all winter, or games at the local golf course.
There are a bazillion owner-run restaurants -- all offering giftcertificates. And, if your intended isn't the fancy eatery sort, what abouta half dozen breakfasts at the local breakfast joint. Remember, folks thisisn't about big National chains -- this is about supporting your home townAmericans with their financial lives on the line to keep their doors open.
How many people couldn't use an oil change for their car, truck ormotorcycle, done at a shop run by the American working guy?
Thinking about a heartfelt gift for mom? Mom would LOVE the services of alocal cleaning lady for a day.
My computer could use a tune-up, and I KNOW I can find some young guy who isstruggling to get his repair business up and running.
OK, you were looking for something more personal. Local crafts people spintheir own wool and knit them into scarves. They make jewelry, and potteryand beautiful wooden boxes.
Plan your holiday outings at local, owner operated restaurants and leaveyour server a nice tip. And, how about going out to see a play or ballet atyour hometown theatre.
Musicians need love too, so find a venue showcasing local bands.
Honestly, people, do you REALLY need to buy another ten thousand Chineselights for the house? When you buy a five dollar string of light, aboutfifty cents stays in the community. If you have those kinds of bucks toburn, leave the mailman, trash guy or babysitter a nice BIG tip.
You see, Christmas is no longer about draining American pockets so thatChina can build another glittering city. Christmas is now about caring aboutUS, encouraging American small businesses to keep plugging away to followtheir dreams. And, when we care about other Americans, we care about ourcommunities, and the benefits come back to us in ways we couldn't imagine.THIS is the new American Christmas tradition. Forward this to everyone on your mailing list -- post it to discussiongroups -- throw up a post on Craigslist in the Rants and Raves section inyour city -- send it to the editor of your local paper and radio stations,and TV news departments. This is a revolution of caring about each other,and isn't that what Christmas is about? Author Unknown

For the record, I do not begrudge China's growth nor the global aspect of the business world. I do think it's time to return to quality, not quantity and invest more, not necessarily all, of our purchasing power in "homemade" products.

Sell Smart, Buy Wise and Live Well

"Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow."

2011-11-03T16:39:00.000-07:00

"Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow." According to Steve Jobs' sister, these were her brother's last words. It makes you wonder what he saw during his final earthly seconds. It was surely a truly awesome sight to generate such enthusiasm from a dying man.

I invested in Apple back in the 1980s and have admired Steve Jobs' mind and innovative spirit ever since. He was not perfect, but in my opinion, he gifted humanity with some near perfect techie tools that enhance our daily lives.

I once read he said his belief in whether God existed was 50/50. His final words make me wonder whether those odd have changed now that he is on the other side.

What Are You Doing With Your Life?

2011-10-16T07:25:00.000-07:00

It's hard to plan a life. Randomness often steps in and rearranges a carefully construed plan. Sometimes it is a gentle shift and other times it is a violent shifting of the tectonic plates of life. The upheaval may be caused by natural disasters, economic upheavals, personal events or some other force beyond our control. We simply must live through it.

The arc of one's life may be long or short. Years lived are not nearly as important as contributions made. Maybe even more important is the amount of harm we do as we pass through our days on earth. Sometimes this damage is to the environment, but the bulk of it is to other people. The measure of a good person is not the amount of money in their bank account but the number of good deeds they did for others with no desire for recognition or reward. In my opinion, a life well-lived follows not only the Golden Rule, but also the Hippocratic Oath of First, do no harm. That is a lovely starting point on the journey of a life well-lived.

I often think it was a random mix of genes, egg and sperm than began my odyssey of life, coupled with daily choices and random events that delivered me to my current station in life. Some things we choose, other times things happen to us, and out of this mish-mash we dish up our unique goulash of life. No two are ever the same.

I'm a firm believer we do not have to make revolutionary contributions to humanity to live a valuable life. It is enough to strive to have a positive impact on the people we interact with and do no harm. Enough lives lived in that manner will change the world and your life can play an important role. I'll close with a Gandhi quote: Be the change you want to see.

Mothers, Tell Your Sons Not To Do What They Have Done

2011-05-20T07:01:00.000-07:00

One does not know whether to snicker or stifle a tear as the character of the male species of the human race continues to crumble before our eyes. It is both sad and shocking to see men of power bending low and wallowing in the dark and seedy side of life. These are the men we have elevated to high stations in life? We cannot be led by men who have no moral bedrock. The quicksand of their despicable behavior seems to have no bottom. Enough already.

There is no need to name names we all know who they are, and besides the list is far too long. They pursue their momentary desire without regard to the lives and trust they shatter in its wake. Once caught, they stand before the cameras, with the wife they betrayed for support if she'll stand beside him, and profess their regret and love for their family. Hey boys, we're tired of that routine and no one is buying your too late and too little fess' up. The damage is done.

The duplicity and dark side of two world-wide known men were exposed this week. One confessed to betraying his family and fathering a child with household help. The other is accused of career-ending acts with a hotel maid. Men of power and women from the low end of the economic totem pole--what is the attraction? It is certainly not equality or respect for women.

For too long women have turned their head while their men "acted out" in immature and inappropriate ways. It is time for women to demand better and back it up with zero tolerance for such behavior. Men are eroding their own relevance. Many young women wonder why they would even want one. It's enough work raising children without having to raise their father too. Women, step up and stop rewarding bad behavior.

Men of power and fame, children of the world are watching and they deserve better than they are receiving from you.

Coco Chanel, Red Lipstick, Pearls and Me

2011-04-03T07:14:00.000-07:00

Blogger is having some issues--it will not recognize the need for paragraphs--sorry for the run-on wall of words. I'll be back to correct when the issue is resolved. Who says you can't resurrect an old love? I'm about to return to a fragrance from my past. I stopped wearing it years ago when I changed love interests. I could not smell it without stirring up intermingled scents and thoughts from yesteryear. I moved on and left Chanel #5 in the annals of my past. Blame it on Netflix and my French loving ways, but I've always loved all things Chanel. I feel at my best in a little black dress, with a strand or two of pearls and red lipstick. I admire the woman as well as the bold style path she blazed. Corsets be gone, a woman needs to breathe! She represented timeless style, not fashion of the moment. Coco Chanel gave women freedom of movement in their attire by cutting the corset strings. Style and pain were not companions in her world. Thank you, Coco! Born in 1883 she was the illegitimate daughter of a salesman. Her mother died when she was 12 and Coco spent the next six years in an orphanage where she learned to sew and earn her keep. Through tragedy she discovered her gift. Women of the world still adhere to her little black dress rule and dab a drop of two of Chanel perfume behind their ears when they desire to feel impeccably dressed. A few of my favorite Chanel quotes: A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous. A women who doesn't wear perfume has no future. It is always better to be slightly under-dressed. Women have always been the strong ones of the world. The men are always seeking from women a little pillow to put their heads down on. They are always longing for the mother who held them as infants. In order to be irreplaceable one must always be different. (My favorite) I will raise up my credit card and say, "This one is for Coco," when I purchase a bottle of Chanel #5. While I'm at the Chanel counter I may also walk away with a new tube of red lipstick.

My Andy Rooney Brows

2011-03-20T08:28:00.000-07:00

I have no idea where they came from and was totally unaware of their arrival. It was not a gradual thing. One day my orderly eyebrows that rarely needed a single hair plucked morphed into multi-directional rogues. Some turned a coarse white, others jet black, and worse yet, some grew to hysterically amusing long lengths with a cute little curl at the tip. I questioned, why isn't this happening to my eyelashes instead?

I wondered if maybe my multi-vitamin was secretly laced with steroids or a super dose of testosterone since I recently switched to a 55+ Anti Aging formula. The moment I turn the bathroom light on each morning I lean in close to the mirror to examine my brows for new signs of growth. Before work, I use my magnifying mirror and petite grooming scissors to cut and trim with ruthless abandon. I begged the beauty gods for my easy care, no maintenance eyebrows to return to no avail.

And then I noticed Andy Rooney's brow on a 60 Minutes show. Honestly, I'm pretty sure left untrimmed my brows would be a perfect match for his, except mine are not as gray. Anyway, after seeing Andy's eyebrows I decided it might play to my advantage if I left my brows untrimmed too. After all, Andy's are his signature feature.

When someone could not remember my name, or walked into my office and wanted to list their house or buy a multi-million dollar mansion in Southern California they could tell the secretary, "I can't remember her name, but she's the one with the wild and woolly eyebrows." I'm pretty sure they would be directed to my office.

Never Stop Chasing Your Dreams

2010-11-27T16:02:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving is a wonderful time to give to others, share good fortune with the less fortunate and pass on a little garnered "girl wisdom" to young granddaughters who will be the next generation's women to lead the world and give birth to the generation that follows.

On Thanksgiving Day after the turkey but before the pie, we played Steve Jobs' Stanford Commencement Speech for a roomful of relatives ranging in age from ten months to sixty-something. Mr. Jobs talks about doing what you love, finding your passion and living your own life. He advised the fresh faced graduates to mold a life filled with passion, fulfillment and giving back. According to Steve Jobs, and I concur, recognizing this intended life is like all matters of the heart, you'll know it when you find it, and until then keep searching.

The commencement speech is gender free, as it should be, and it applies equally to male and female members of the world, old as well as young, rich and the not-so-rich. It is one of the big challenges in life this pursuit of happiness spoken of by our forefathers and desired for our granddaughters and grandsons. The best example we can set is to, in the words of Steve Jobs, "Stay hungry. Stay foolish."

Raise Others Up Instead of Bringing Them Down

2010-11-21T10:10:00.000-08:00

It is unforgivable to crush a person's dream, squash their hopes or discourage their efforts on behalf of obtaining a seemingly unobtainable goal. My code of beliefs is based on encouraging others to reach for the higher bar instead of sitting comfortably on the ground.

The heavens are there for a reason. Our ability to dream during sleep serves many a purpose, not the least of them being the ability to step outside everyday reality and move among the stars, the unknown and the imagined. Sometimes our minds speak to us about possibilities our mouths dare not utter. Dreams allow our spirits to dance free--especially daydreams since we often choose the topic and play out the what ifs free from the actual consequences and hard work required of such an achievement. We're trying it on to see how it fits and feels.

If you find yourself returning to the same dream, desire, hope or aspiration time after time, it is time to take the next step--action. Without action a dream remains in the land of your imagination.

I challenge you to take one of your long held dreams and commit to bringing it to life.

Your life.

Play is an Important Part of Life

2010-11-16T16:53:00.001-08:00

Kids love to play; adults often forget to set aside time for play. Shrieks of joy and happiness can be heard on the playground when children are playing. Play is a natural outlet for stress, physical activity, healthy competitiveness and seeking out joyful moments.

Play is defined as, "To occupy oneself in amusement, sport, or other recreation." Play is usually associated with pleasure and joy. I'll have another helping of that, please!

My Life Formula is one-third work, one-third rest and one-third play. Based on this formula one-third of our lives are available for "free time" and we decide how to spent those unscheduled moments. There are many life management tasks that must be accomplished during this free time, and the trick is to find ways to make them seem less like work and more like play, or at least more pleasurable.

Grocery shopping was always a dreaded task for me until I changed my method of gathering food. I now frequent the local Farmer's Market with live music, fresh flowers and stands loaded with fresh produce and organic food. Trader Joe's and Henry's are two local markets that provide an array of fresh and healthy foods making it easy for me to accomplish my goal of eating healthier and making shopping more fun.

Playful ways to add more "Free Time" to your life:

Cut Class: Leave the office, turn off the phone and take in an afternoon movie, a yoga class, a watercolor class or a stroll through the neighborhood.
Shake Up Your Routine: Last month I took a long weekend and visited a good friend in the desert. We went to a morning movie, tried several new restaurants, had a massage, stayed out late listening to a great jazz band, and went to an art show. I returned to work three days later refreshed and revitalized.
Exercise Your Body, Mind and Soul: Raise your fitness to a new level. Take on a new intellectual challenge and develop your inner life. Playing is a great way to find your best self.
Fulfill a Dream or Two: Plan a trip and take it. Check something off your bucket list. Read a book or write one. Expand your horizons and broaden your mind.

It is never too late to reinvent yourself and your life.

Rest: The Need to Listen to Your Body, Mind and Soul

2010-11-07T09:07:00.000-08:00

We gained an hour during the night--did you remember to "fall back"? What did you do with that hour? One of the ways we can work smarter, not harder, is to make sure we take time to rest, sleep and restore our depleted energy. After a good night's sleep we think more clearly, feel better and have the energy required to make it through a demanding work day. There is no better way to start a "smart" business day.

In my opinion, most people are working harder, much harder, in this economy. I know as a real estate agent I am working harder and hopefully smarter too. The economic situation requires nothing less of us if we want to continue to make an acceptable living. It is demanding and drains our energies to maintain such a pace week after week, month after month, and if the economists are correct, year after year. Renewal and rejuvenation through rest are essential.

If nearly one-third of our lives is devoted to sleep/rest, it is essential we make it the best it can be since the quality of sleep determines the next day's quality of life. I'm working on becoming a sleep connoisseur. I chased sleep for years as an insomniac, and although I still enjoy seeing the light come into the world, I equally enjoy the process of preparing for sleep. Here's my routine, and yes, I think we need a prologue to sleep. Here is how it begins for me:

1) Shed the Day: I slip off my shoes as soon as I am in for the night. This signals to my brain, body and soul that my work for day is done--it also feels good too. Next, I slip into comfort clothes and begin the process of relaxation with some background music while I prepare dinner.

2) Reduce the Light: After dinner I dim the lights to signal my brain that it's quiet time. I may watch a movie or do a little social/family networking, but the major demands of the day are set aside.

3) A Little Ritual, Please: A regular bedtime routine is as important as a set time to go to bed. I'm a fan of aromatherapy, so my routine includes a scented bath, lavender oil on my temples and the hum of a bedside fan. I make sure my bed is inviting and my bedroom is a pleasant, restful place to sleep. It is important the quality of sleep be the best you can achieve. Life demands will often interrupt the quantity, so strive to make the sleep you get the best it can be.

I enjoy being a high energy person, and few things are more important than sleep in maintaining a high level of physical energy, clarity of thought and a healthy spirit. Sleep secrets should be shared. One of my clients told me years ago about dimming the lights. It was very helpful for me, and maybe it will make you sleep more like a baby and less like an overworked and overstressed real estate agent.

Sorry Work, You Cannot Have My Entire Life

2010-10-30T13:33:00.000-07:00

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." That's a phrase most of us are familiar with, and by the way, the same goes for all the Jills of the world too. If you're slipping into the category of working more but enjoying it less, then it is time to make certain aspects of your job more enjoyable. Feeling dull is not good for the soul.

In a previous Life Formula post I stated I try to allocate one-third of my life to work, one-third to rest and one-third to play. There is planned overlapping and sometimes an activity falls into the trilogy category. At those moments there is real bliss and harmony in knowing I'm not clocking in or out of a life category, but enjoying my life in the present moment.

Work is defined as, "Sustained physical or mental effort to overcome obstacles and achieve an objective or result." It takes much effort to achieve real estate results today. It stand to reason if we exert intense effort for eight hours then we need an equal amount of time to rest and recover before we can return refreshed and ready to suit up for another day in the trenches.

A few ways to incorporate pleasure/play and rest during the work day:
1) Music is a great stress reliever; it plays softly in the background all day at my office.
2) Move away from the computer screen; too many hours staring at a monitor creates eye, neck and shoulder strain. A recent news report said hours hunched over a keyboard can shorten your life.
3) Stand up and stretch; take water, restroom or mini sunshine and fresh air breaks throughout the day.
4) No time for exercise? Incorporate more steps into your workday by parking a half block away from homes you are previewing and errand stops. The extra surge of blood to the brain will increase your energy and problem solving abilities. You will accomplish more with less effort and time. Think of exercise as a time saver, not a time waster.
5) Take a time out; a 15 minutes rest will clear the mind and refresh the body. I keep a yoga mat at the office, in my car and at home. After a few stretches and meditation or a nap I'm recharged and ready to return to work. On days when I must move from my day at the office to an evening function with seamless effort those minutes on the mat are priceless.
6) Add a new element of challenge and risk. Routine can become boring. Take on a new challenge, do something outside your comfort zone. This is a great way to start your creative juices flowing. Robotic work is dull. Dare to fail.

We can make work less stressful by adding a few pleasurable and restful moments during our hours on the job. Work does not need to be drudgery, nor do we need to become "dull" while engaged in our chosen method of making a living.

Kindness is Infectious

2010-10-28T08:24:00.000-07:00

The mood of the world is on the somber side, so when I saw a colleague who usually dresses in shades of black wearing a bright red sweater I complimented her. She looked stunning and it was a pleasure to see a bright spot in the office. She smiled, and her little corner of the world was energized, and I could tell her mood was lifted. A kind thought expressed with a few complimentary words can change a person's day and maybe even their life and how they live it.

Sometimes we have to fake it until we can make it. Some days it is difficult to make the phone calls, emails or marketing efforts that will generate future business. On such days I like to take a moment to recall and recognize the source of past successes. A quick thank you call or email of gratitude is a wonderful way to turn your attitude around.

Paying a compliment, noting a job well done or recognizing a kind gesture is a contagious act. Catch it, and infect everyone you meet.

Work, Rest, Play - A Life Formula that Works for Me

2010-10-27T08:50:00.000-07:00

I stand before you and admit, "I am a workaholic." I once worked from January 2 until July 4 without a single day off. It still is not unusual for me to work several weeks without a day off. It is also not outside the boundaries of my schedule to take a three week exotic vacation to some distant locale in the world. I love to work but I also love to play.

In addition to my insane work ethic I am also an insomniac. A client, in the throes of a crisis filled escrow, recently emailed me at 3:00 AM. By 4:00 AM my response arrived much to his surprise. I must confess I've always made the most of my sleepless night in the South Bay. That's when I catch up on reading, indulge in a little Sudoku puzzle solving, practice yoga and meditate before dawn.

Love her or hate her, Martha Stewart and I share not only the same birthday (sorry, Martha, I'm a bit younger), but also the workaholic and insomnia trait. She sleeps only three or four hours per night; for years I was delighted if I caught five hours per night. The benefits of sleep are underrated, and I'm training myself to sleep/rest a minimum of seven hours. It's not an easy task but with the help of lavender oil, a sleep mask and the soothing hum of a fan I'm managing to keep my bones in bed for seven hours of rest--I'm not always asleep but resting I am.

My new "Life Formula" is one third work, one third rest, one third play. If it gets too far out of whack, I rein in the offender and spend time with the neglected aspect. Imagine, giving yourself 120 days to "play."

If you are intrigued and think this formula might work for you too I invite you to return to read future installments of this four part series.

Movies and Moments I Missed

2010-08-15T07:03:00.000-07:00

I believe we often miss a movie, a mate or a moment that may be absolutely perfect for us because we are not ready to receive the lesson, the message or the transformation.

I'm in the middle of a delicious little film affair with Netflix at the moment. Netflix, in its infinite wisdom, is allowing me to revisit favorite old movies from my youth with the eyes, ears and experience of a few added decades. I can watch what I want, when I want without worry of late fees or the hassle of returning a movie.

There are some gaps in my movie education; I was once coupled with mate who was, "Not really into films." I, on the other hand, spent my college Saturday afternoons watching foreign films instead of football games. Those afternoon matinees are some of my best collegiate memories. I'm once again gorging on award winning foreign films, old Hollywood classics and discovering a few gems I missed along the way.

The Joy Luck Club was last night's discovery. Four mothers, four daughters and their collective struggle for a better life. It was filled with conflict, tragedy, loss, love and hope for the future. It offered a glimpse into Chinese culture, and a raw look at the sacrifices each mother endured with the hope life would be better for her daughter.

Sometimes it is two steps forward and one step back as we pursue the happiness and joy we are all equal in wanting. Sometimes luck intervenes. Sometimes timing is out of step with opportunity. As long as there is hope the human spirit is capable of continuing onward.

The Legacy of Smell

2010-04-25T13:10:00.000-07:00

I did not intend to buy flowers at the market today. I grabbed a cart and darted inside to pick up a few items for the week ahead, but the scent stopped me dead in my tracks. I was instantly transported back to my childhood days and the Lilac Bush in the back yard.

Along with the Robins and Daffodils, our Lilac Bush was a harbinger of spring, and the budding flowers were accompanied with the unforgettable floral scent. Aromatherapy is powerful medicine and today I had a therapeutic dose. The purple flowers found their way into my cart; they were already in my heart and sensory memory. Now they are lovingly displayed on my coffee table where I can enjoy their beauty, the fragrance and the memories.

Some smells are deeply embedded in our sensory memories. Fresh baked bread still reminds me of my mother. Old Spice aftershave, definitely brings back memories of my dad. The visual memories may fade, the verbal conversations are mostly forgotten, but the memory of smell lingers on long after the bread is eaten and the flowers have faded away.

Fresh Footsteps

2010-04-11T06:25:00.000-07:00

It seems the heavens decided to give Earth a good shaking, or maybe even a spanking in 2010. Massive earthquakes in Haiti and Chile, a winter of discontent for most of the USA, and a recent earthquake in Mexico sent rumbles beneath my office in Southern California. What's next? Who knows, but one thing we can be sure of is It Is On The Way.

The Boy Scouts knew this long ago: The best way to deal with the unexpected and unknown is to be prepared for it. It may still blindside you but the emergency kit in your home, car, head and heart will be ready to deal with it. There is much comfort in knowing your larder is stocked, there is cash in your pocket and strength in your soul. The survivors of life's storms are no happy accidents; they may have been blessed with good timing and a dash of luck, but the ability to deal with the random arrows of fate set them apart.

Some of life's greatest storms occur within the walls of your being. The ability to calm the waters and call the shots in times of inner turmoil tests the mettle of most. Whether it is dealing with loss of a loved one or the loss of good fortune past, loss can stop you in your tracks and make the push forward into unfamiliar territory overwhelming.

New directions can also be refreshing and unspoiled by past transgressions, natural disaster and life's mistakes and missteps. There is nothing more beautiful than fresh fallen snow. It is a clean slate waiting for fresh tracks. Although ruts often lie just beneath the surface, the landscape is given a do-over, a fresh start and a chance to start anew.

Forge ahead.

Have You Lost Your Groove? Unearthing Blessings Every Day

2010-03-14T18:52:00.000-07:00

Have you noticed people are grumpier these days? It seems bad mood syndrome is pandemic. As frustrations mounts fuses grow shorter. Times are harder than we are accustomed to and our coping skills are growing weary. If it's not one thing it is another, and the weight of a recession fraught with high unemployment, foreclosures and mounting health care premiums have more than our panties/boxers and briefs in an uncomfortable twist.

Have you lost your groove? How about looking for blessings throughout the day rather than focusing on the struggle of the month. If you're trying to manifest health, happiness and prosperity in your life, a focus on anything else will delay the manifestation of what you desire and deserve.

Start small. Give kindness and accept kindness and know you played a part in the viral expansion of gestures and acts capable of changing the mood of the world. Today I complimented a father on his parenting skills. He seized a teachable moment with his young daughter and spoke of respect and consideration of others. The lesson could have been lost had he waited until they were alone.

Another friend planted an herb garden and plans to share her future bounty with family and friends. Sharing is good. It lifts the mood and fortifies the spirit to engage in acts that build and improve relationships with those we love and those we share the earth with.

Take a step away and breathe. Impulsive actions are often regretted. I was a bit embarrassed by a friend's words today. He told a server at a restaurant he did not like her fellow worker's attitude. Given my first-hand knowledge of his situation, I am fairly certain he is unhappy with his circumstances and that is the part of himself he elected to share. Everyone is going through something and demanding perfection is a sure path to disappointment. Is forgetting a request for fresh ground pepper worth multiplying the grumpiness factor?

The easiest thing to turn around is your attitude. You control it and you own it. Use it to build others up, not belittle them. Find the good and magnify it in others and in yourself.

It makes looking in the mirror a happier experience.

I Am Divine, and So Are You

2010-03-13T07:25:00.000-08:00

It is easy to deny your own divineness (not sure that's a word) and ignore the miracle of our existence. The day to day demands of life leave precious little time for looking inward or upward. Our focus often must be on getting through the daily grind of earning a living, feeding our families and preparing for the next big challenge life is sure to place upon our path.

Yesterday, as I was flying in and out of the clouds on a crystal clear California day I marveled at the stunning beauty of the coastline, followed by mountains and hillsides dotted with homes as we traveled from Los Angeles to Monterrey. After disembarking, we took the 17 Mile Drive through towering pines and winding roads on our way to Pebble Beach.

It was a business trip for a friend of mine, and he invited me to fill one of the seats on the private jet. I happily tagged along. I welcomed a day to leave my real estate routine behind and let my mind wander unrestrained and constrained by appointments, deadlines and the other duties and demands of a working woman's day.

As the plane drifted in and out of cumulus clouds I found myself dwelling on the divineness of it all: the meeting of the ocean and the land, the man-made plane darting though the God-made heavens and the joy of being a part of it all.

It was a divine day.

Coaches, Gurus and God

2010-03-07T08:30:00.000-08:00

I have friends that pay big money for professional guidance. Some of this pricey guidance is of the professional nature, some is physical training and other is personal development and lifestyle enhancement. Sometimes their trainers are highly educated but most of the time the coach/trainer/guru's experience was garnered from first-hand experience in the trenches.

It is human nature to seek the secret to success, a quick fix diet or a shortcut to true enlightenment. In truth, the secret takes much work to unearth. No doubt it is easier to persevere with a cheerleader on the sideline, or a coach shouting in your ear, but in the end you must get there on your own power, energy and determination.

When I was a little girl and the fresh snow was deep I would try to follow in my big sister's footsteps, but inevitably I would be forced to make my own tracks in the snow. Her stride was longer than mine and it was difficult to match her progress step for step. Besides, sometimes I chose to take on the big drifts and icy patches my way.

Support is wonderful and guidance is good as long as it does not block our personal North Star and lead us astray from the divine course of our life.

Be bold and make fresh tracks in the snow.

What Gets You High?

2010-03-06T08:07:00.000-08:00

A week of lows is inspiring me to remember what gets me high. When bad news comes our way we can either wallow in the mud of misery, or we can shake it off, reassess the situation and rise above the disappointments life thrusts upon us.

Without delving into my Pandora's Box of problems suffice it say last week held enough drama to fill a full calendar year. There were medical issues (two grandchildren), relationship breakups (dear friend), discovery of terminal illness (a client), not to mention natural disasters, taxes to do and...well, you get my point.

After entering my front door last night I leaned against it and said to myself, "Girl, put the music on, sit down and put your feet up." The 8.8 earthquake in Chile shifted the world's axis and last week tilted my life balance and challenged my coping skills.

It is amazing what some comfortable yoga pants, a warming fireplace and soothing music can do for a roughed-up soul. Throw in eight hours of sleep and a comforting bowl of oatmeal with berries galore and I'm ready to open my front door and face the challenges of a new day.

Sometimes you must take care of yourself before you can take care of the business of life.

The New Decade Ahead--Dive In

2010-02-14T08:28:00.000-08:00

I'm a planner who likes to be open to the serendipity of the moment. Yes, I know that is a contradicting statement, but life is full of contradictions and that is one of the reasons it remains a journey into the unknown. We may have the day, the month, the life planned on paper or in our heads, but the script is subject to change at any moment. I have learned it is wise to plan in pencil with an eraser in the other hand.

When plotting a life plan the only permanent ink needed is a thorough knowledge of your core values, a mission of you life statement and a vision of the legacy you want your life dash to leave behind. The rest of the lines and ensuing years will be filled with staying true your boundaries, fulfilling your mission in life and bringing your vision into focus and fruition.

Adjustments come with age and time, and that is as it should be. I like to reassess the progress of my dash at the beginning of each new decade. It is a great time to look ahead to the future and do a rear view mirror review. Keep it simple, note the best and the worst, the mistakes and the victories. Once your history is evaluated it is time to close the book on the that decade and step confidently into the vision for the next ten years.

The Tiger Tale

2009-12-06T09:16:00.000-08:00

I confess I laughed at the Tiger Woods' jokes. The situation was too uncomfortably familiar on both a national and personal experience not to be amused once again at what a joke marriage is to many men and to a lesser extent women. I was also disappointed and less hopeful for the future of the institution of marriage. A role model he is not. On the other hand, Elin may be exactly the type of wife needed to give husbands pause before they unzip their pants.

Behind each chortle was the unexpressed painful question: If the best althlete in the world, soon to become the first billionaire athlete is not happy in his marriage with a gorgeous wife, two adorable babies, cute dogs and a plethora of homes scattered around the globe, then what hope for marital bliss is there for the masses?

Are men really avoiding intimacy by engaging in sex with a woman whom they have no responsibility to share the trials and tribulations of marriage and parenthood? It is a low- demand, disposable relationship. It is a hook-up not a commitment. If things get messy or too demanding you can walk away and find another bedmate. Those are the throw-away partners. The fast food sex stops.

Is it the Peter Pan or Rich Dick syndrome? Either way it is not pretty or admirable.

Domestic Goddess I Am Not, Goddess of Caring--Completely

2009-11-26T09:10:00.000-08:00

Obviously I have exceeded my "cleaning quota." There is a reflective layer of dust on many furniture pieces, an occasional crunch underfoot and the glass of my sliding patio door has a diffusing film that would flatter an aging movie star. I don't know when this happened; I used to love clean. Oh, I think I still do, but I don't love to do clean. Yes, that's the problem.

A few years ago I moved to smaller living quarters and there was no longer a place for everything--some items had to share the same space. That was the beginning of living with the things I love without as much space to love them in. It is a greener way to live--I did not need three bathrooms, a family room and a living room but it is a challenge to live greener, leaner and cleaner.

Before the move I donated, tossed and gave away with wild abandon. The adult children took ownership of their baby books, photo albums and other childhood memorabilia. The new owner inherited potted plants, patio furniture and gardening tools. I really delved into streamlining my life. So what really matters when it comes right down to parting with what was once important?

Not much. How enlightening and freeing is that? I first discovered this years ago while in the midst of divorce. My freshly separated ex decided to video the house while I was away for the weekend. He counted the wine glasses and antique dishes and videoed the book collection, the artwork etc. He wanted to make sure he received his half. It was a behavior that highlighted how little most of the items and years spent meant to me. There are few things that must move from one phase of life to another. Like a snake's skin when it is no longer a good fit, it's best to shed it and move on.

On this Thanksgiving Day I'm home with the flu, but I'm thankful for the opportunity to have learned what matters most as we move along our life's path. The children are grown and the childhood pets have passed on. There are ample photos that froze a moment in time, but the true gift is memories and treasured friends and family to share them with. It's not about the stuff, it is about the love and caring for others.

The cleaning? Not so much.

The Peonies on My Desk

2009-05-30T15:15:00.000-07:00

I saw them out of the corner of my eye as I rushed through the automatic doors at Trader Joes. They were still snug buds with no hint of their showy over-sized beauty. Those were peonies and I had to have them.

As a child it was my Memorial Day duty to clip flowers from the row of peonies in the side yard and make bouquets for soldiers, friends and relatives no longer on this earth. I thought it was a rather morbid task, but I did so enjoy selecting just the right vases and ribbons, so the task was filled with more pleasure than pain. Even though the ants crawled up and down my arms as I carried the armloads of blossoms to the kitchen sink, I tried to stay focused on the positive aspect of the job.

Those bouquets were always lovely and I felt a sense of accomplishment as we left each one in remembrance and appreciation of a life lived.

As an adult, I realize what a valuable lesson my peony exercise was for me. Work involves tasks we would like to avoid but we do not get to pick and choose what part of the job we will do. Beauty is often intermingled with loss and pain. Life is transitory in nature, and like the peony blossoms it buds, blooms, withers and leaves a legacy of its own design.

History Books, Humanity and Happy Mother's Day

2009-05-10T10:49:00.000-07:00

"Mom, why aren't there more women in my history book?" Years ago my elementary school age daughter asked this deep and probing question. I gave her the simple one line comeback. "Because women gave birth to and raised all those boys in your history book."

Yes, it takes a village to raise a child, but mainly it takes a mother. The job comes with no sick leave, it's 24/7 for eighteen years and then sporatic calls to duty on short notice. Job security is guaranteed until death. Although I'm fairly certain my mother is still on the job from above. She's certainly still in my thoughts. I see her parenting skills in mine and I watch with pride as I see my daughter using those same skills with my grandchildren.

The history books are filled with but a few mothers, but every person in history arrived on earth via a woman, a mother. That is very important work in the big picture of life.

Go ahead and smell the roses; you've earned it.

Happy Mother's Day.

Peep-toes, Slingbacks and Stilettos Where Did You Go?

2009-05-07T01:33:00.000-07:00

I cleaned my closet last weekend and I noticed a disturbing trend. My peep-toes, slingbacks and stilettos are being replaced by Crocs, flats and Dr. Scholls. As I looked at the line of shoes on the closet floor it was clear to me I am aging from the feet up.

My shoulder length hair is colored and as close to my natural blond as a dye can come.
Heaven knows I've spent hours exercising to keep the body humming along decade after decade, but the feet are simply demanding to be comfortable. It takes a lot of energy to walk on your tiptoes all day, and shoes that hurt your feet make the task of walking to a co-worker's desk so unpleasant it is simply easier to send an email across the room.

At first I felt a sense of loss as the pile of high heels grew into a small mountain. There were the shoes I danced the night away under the desert stars. There were the three inch heels that allowed me to masquerade as a five foot ten conqueror of the career world. Then again, there was the pair that gave me a memorable blister and another pair I often carried more than I wore. Yep, time to listen to my feet.

For me, comfort is the new sexy.

Birth, A Beginning

2009-04-14T07:02:00.000-07:00

Thirty-three years ago today I gave birth to my one and only daughter. When labor began I was working in the "field" like a country peasant. My maternity jeans (actually they were a hideous imitation of my favorite Levis) were rolled up to a very stylish Capri length and my feet were bare--and muddy.

Six weeks earlier we moved into a new home in Naperville, Illinois. The builder included sod in the front yard, but my then husband was not a skilled negotiator, and I was too pregnant to care, so we accepted the back yard bare.

My two year old had a great time playing in the "big dirtbox" with his toy cars and trucks, his dad had a new job and was never home, but I was determined to turn that backyard dust bowl into the Garden of Eden before spring showers turned it into a giant mud pie.

Money was tight and sod was out of the question. The builder gave me the name of a man who would seed it for a few hundred dollars, after that I was on my own. I thought spring showers would come to my aid, but it was an unusually dry spring. I invested in hoses and oscillating sprinklers to fill in where Mother Nature let me down.

Sunrise found me positioning the sprinklers in preparation for the traveling shower show I ran throughout the day. The sprinklers had to be moved at regular intervals and the yard was large. I watched for puddling (too much water) and dry spots (no bare spots allowed) and quickly remedied both. Soon tiny green sprouts greeted my seeking eyes.

The lawn, yes I could call it that now, was bursting forth with new life, and so was I. On April 14, 1976 I was in the yard positioning sprinklers, watching my two year old marvel at the yet uncut new grass when the first pang of labor rose up through my body. I washed the mud off my feet, showered and six hours later gave birth to my daughter. It was a happy birth day; and today I wish you a happy birthday.

The Jewel of the Universe

2009-04-09T18:19:00.000-07:00

One of my morning yoga meditations refers to "A Kind Heart" as the Jewel of the Universe. I've listened to the CD many times, but this morning the words reverberated through my mind as an absolute truism. In trying times kindness goes a long way.

When my son was in Iraq he said what he and his fellow Marines looked forward to most were letters from home. Home was not necessarily correspondence from friends and family. Often a letter was simply address "Soldier" or "To a Marine." A few kind and caring words from a complete stranger brightened their day. After a nightmarish day in the field, mail call was a time of joy. A letter from home reminded them in many places of the world life was still full of hope for the future. War zones are not filled with kindness, but those letters certainly were.

Monday I received a message from a past client. Her husband passed away over the weekend quite unexpectedly. Her message included a thank you to me for "All the ways you helped us in the past." In her time of grief she thanked me for my kindness. It was a powerful reminder our daily actions have lasting consequences and make a deep impression on the people who pass through our lives. Kindness cushions the pain of loss.

The economy and the housing market are creating enormous loss and a large number of people on falling on hard times they never imagined possible. The problems and financial woes are overwhelming for many, others have no idea how they can help. Each of us contains a Jewel of the Universe; a kind heart does not cost money. A few moments of time and heartfelt words are priceless gifts and should be shared with great abandon. Not only will it lift the spirit of the receiver, it will enrich the giver as well.

How to Know You are With the Wrong Person

2009-03-26T17:47:00.000-07:00

First, I believe it is more about what doesn't happen in a relationship than what does happen. I hope there will always be a dash of mystery and magic in love relationships for without those ingredients it can become an intolerable burden to bear.

Unfortunately, I've had the pleasure of observing many mismatched couples, and the dicey circumstances of being one-half of such a couple on one long occasion and a couple briefer ones. It wasn't those guys were so bad, they were simply wrong for me. Well, actually they did have some hopeless pathos such as passive aggressiveness, infidelity and pathological lying but hey let's not start nitpicking here!

It is all about discovering and acknowledging the uncomfortable fit before too much time is invested. I have to admit I stayed in one relationship for more than 20 years and I have zero happy memories of us as a couple. We were day and night, an optimist and pessimist, an extrovert and an introvert. One was social the other a loner. So why did I stay so long, get ready to laugh but remember I was young--I thought he would change. Yep, sure did. But he sure did not!

So trust me, this is the voice of experience speaking and here are the signs and feelings you should not ignore, and the questions you should answer early in the relationship:

1. Do you enjoy talking with him and he with you? It was on the honeymoon I realized my marriage was going to be a lonely undertaking, and it was a mistake from day one. Once he was no longer trying to win me he slipped back into the silent shell a few people warned me about. There was very little communication and he was only affectionate when he was in the mood for... well you get the picture.

2. Who is the first person you want to share good and bad news with? If it is not your special someone then perhaps you should reconsider your choice of a life partner.

3. Are you generally happy to see your special someone walk in the door, or do you secretly enjoy the time without him/her? I noticed my mood would darken as the dinner hour approached. I used to blame it on low blood sugar but I think my endorphins went into hibernation as the homecoming hour approached. Those feel good feelings were gone.

4. Is he/she willing to change his/her life because of yours? This is a biggie---it takes a contortionist to always wrap their life around someone else's, and with time, that gets pretty uncomfortable. Make sure there is just as much give as take on both sides of the relationship fence.

5. Do you make each other laugh? This may seem insignificant but it is a wonderful test of the relationship. The best marriages and long term relationships I've observed are formed between partners who do a lot of laughing together. They "get one another" instead of wondering "who the hell is that stranger beside me in my bed."

Finding Your Perfect Nature

2009-03-25T08:22:00.001-07:00

"The aim of life is self-development. To realize one's nature perfectly -- that is what each of us is here for."
Oscar Wilde, Irish playwright, poet, author and novelist, 1854-1900

Discovering one's nature can take a lifetime. It's that age old question of, What do I want to be when I grow up? Sometimes, and especially in tough economic times, we get so caught up in making a living we forget to live the life we were intended to discover, and miss the destiny we were designed to fulfill.

The world has a way of intruding and slapping its demands, expectations and responsibilites at the top of our daily life list. The "shoulds" of life often overshadow the pursuit of self-development and discovery of our perfect nature. After a day spent making a living, there can be precious little engery and time left for a trip down self-realization's road.

It is possible to have meaningful revelations of self-realization at the most unexpected times. Be aware of moments when you feel surpremely happy, when you laugh from your soul, or one of my favorites is when I know in my heart this is where I am supposed to be at this moment in time.

Recognize and record the peak experiences of joy and fulfillment in your life. Then add more of those moments to your daily exsistence and you will increase the speed at which you discover your perfect nature.

It will not happen overnight. It takes time.

That is why we are given a lifetime.

In the Middle of a Massive Money Makeover

2009-03-15T07:24:00.000-07:00

Americans have a love affair with money. They covet it, they're rarely satisfied with the amount they have and more than a few are willing to commit crimes to obtain it. Big crimes; Bernie Madoff, are you listening?

A former flame once told me the best dream he ever had was when he dreamt he was surrounded by money, stacks of it, suitcases full of it. He said he woke with the most delicious feeling--a better-than-sex feeling. His speech quickened and he grew more animated as he related the joy the bundle of bills transferred to him. It was a highpoint in his life, but it was not real. I moved on.

I made a conscious effort to raise my children with compassion for others. It gave me deep satisfaction to see my small son never pass the Salvation Army bell ringers without dropping some change from his dollar allowance in the kettle. The cultivation of caring begins early.

Perhaps the global financial fiasco will cause countries and citizens to re-think policies and priorities. Will Wall Street executives forgo billions in bonuses to build homes and businesses in third world countries? Think of the goodwill such an act would create. Or will they continue rewarding one another with selfish, self-serving paychecks containing an astonishing number of zeros? It is my hope they will aspire to more than a collection of homes and bank accounts. When given the big opportunity to make a difference that is a very small way to live a life.

Forget thinking outside the box; you must think outside yourself.

Why Do Men Hit Women?

2009-03-13T07:18:00.000-07:00

I often wonder why a strong six footer thinks it is okay to punch, slap and beat a five foot something woman. If he's looking for a good fight he can find it on a street corner or at the local dive. He might be the one to walk away from such an encounter, if he's lucky, in need of a few stitches and dental repair.

On the other hand if he is doing it to terrorize, control and impose his will on "his" woman he's a man in need of, at the very minimum, anger management therapy, or perhaps some time behind bars. Cages work great to restrain beasts and make sure they do not hurt themselves or others.

Girls and women of the world, hear my words, let him do his recovery time alone. If behavior is to change there must be consequences for the act.

Hey macho men, listen up. A woman is not a punching bag. She is not the vent for all your steam and uncontrolled rage. She is not to blame for your failures. She is not a lesser human being. You do not have the right to pummel her, then when the booze wears off or the anger subsides tell her you are sorry, you love her and it will never happen again. Yeah right. Check the statistics.

Perhaps it is some feral streak, an untamed gene or testosterone gone wild that arouses a male to draw blood and cause pain to someone he cares for. Perhaps society has turned its head the other way for far too long. No matter what the cause the result is untenable.

If you have lived long enough you know you cannot change another person. You can change what you will endure from another person. Girls, do be afraid to walk away and lose your man. If he's hurting you it is not love and he deserves to wear a much different moniker than man. Animal is the name that comes to mind.

Changing the Focus of Your Life

2009-01-25T15:03:00.000-08:00

I usually start the new year with a list of goals, and many of those goals are work oriented. This year I decided to flip my focus from work to play, from worry to joy and from angst to appreciation. Yes, I know we are in the middle of a global recession. Yes, I know the housing market is posting some of its worst numbers since the Great Depression. So what? These are supposed to be some of the best years of my life, and I am going to make sure they are just that--the best years of my life.

The work is still there, and yes it has to be done, but I will no longer let it consume most of my working hours. I work in a fiercely competition field; it is overcrowded and many agents were lucky to make a single sale in 2008. I took eights day off during the entire year. That includes weekends and holidays. Yes, it is definitely time for a change.

The first thing I scheduled for 2009 was a vacation. I returned from Egypt one week ago with a renewed spirit and much gratitude for my life and where I am lucky enough to live. I loved Egypt--the people, the history, the Nile and the desert climate, plus they drink black tea all day long. My sister and I never tired of our favorite brew and it was served throughout the day. It was a simple but deep joy to sip tea with a sister I rarely see and I enjoyed the moment.

The vacation is behind me, but the memories will be with me to draw upon. When I'm feeling frustrated because I am stuck in a Los Angeles traffic jam I will remember Cairo traffic is much worse. I will remember the armed guards and machine gun clad security personal that traveled everywhere with our group. I will remember the women carrying water from the Nile to wash their clothes. I will remember the classroom with bright blue wooden benches and a single chalkboard. There is nothing quite like a visit to a third world country to remind us that living conditions on this planet are not created equally.

I returned to my country with great hope and a resolve to thrive during these trying times. On Tuesday a new president took the oath of office with the promise of change. It is time. I felt ebullient as I watched the crowd and country welcome him. As a nation we stepped outside the boundaries of previous choices and into a new era. Change is not something that happens to you, it is something you bring about by your actions.

If there are changes you want to make in the way you are living your life, begin now.

It is easier than you think.

Every Day Has Its Joy

2008-12-11T20:34:00.000-08:00

Have you noticed smiles are hard to find these days?

The days are filled with bad economic news, depressing housing numbers and hopeless faces in the crowd. When the phone rings it's either someone hawking something you don't need, or someone wanting payment for something you needed but could not afford. Ahh, life can be an uphill and seemingly unending trek some years.

So I've decided to become a joy counter. yep, my job involves solving other peoples' problems day in and day out. Sometimes I lose track of the joy in my own life. So come with me on today's joy counting tally:
I slept in an extra hour. Sometimes you need to honor the need for more sleep. Mission accomplished.

I received a compliment for a job well done by one of my most exacting clients (and the promise of future business).

I received a call from my son and shared his excitement about an upcoming move in his life. Isn't one of life's greatest gifts watching our children's lives unfold?

I received an unexpected box of candy from an appreciative business associate. I decided to honor my sweet tooth too. It was so good I'll have to walk an extra mile in the morning.

I received a lunch invitation from an old friend who is in town for a few days. I'm looking forward to a leisurely Friday afternoon lunch with a true foodie. I'm sure the food and company will be memorable.

I was the recipient of an random act of kindness: a pedestrian watched as I paralleled parked and made hand signals as I maneuvered into a very tight space. OK, I was a little suspicious at first, it's LA and we have our share of characters to avoid. Upon exiting my car I thanked him, and he told me I had a screw in my tire--he heard the thumping sound as I was parking. The tire is patched and back on the car thanks to the kindness of a stranger. Thanks to him I won't be stranded on the freeways of LA waiting for a tow truck.

Isn't it better to focus on the joy of each day instead of the worries and troubles? They will show up, but we don't need to devote our days to them. I know there was a lightness in my being and a smile on my lips as I recalled the joys of this individual day.

There is joy in the journey along with the flat tires and other occasional bumps in the road.

2008-12-10T19:48:00.000-08:00

Today I encountered an unwritten requirement in the process of setting up a file at my office. I guess it's one of the secret rules that very few know about, but everyone is admonished when they don't comply. At best it's ineffective management, at worse incompetence. It certainly created a lot of busy work for me, my clients, the office manager and the broker owner.

A standard form is required by the company, but it is not required by law. The company guideline does not state it is required, yet it does provide a list of forms required (and this one is not on it). Are you going a little crazy with me on this one?

I reviewed the required documents before asking my clients to sign them, and double checked to make sure the form in question was not required. It was not, so I did not have my clients sign it. Why would I?

I turned the file in (in complete compliance with the company guideline) and received a call from the office manager that I neglected to include this form. Say what?

I quickly explained it was not on the required list. She said, "It is required in every file. You need to provide it."

Me: "It is not required by law so if the company wants it, why isn't it included on the required list provided by the company?"

Her: "I'll re-check, but unless something has changed it is required for every file."

Me: "Please advise me as soon as you determine whether it is required or not."

Her: "I'll call corporate and let you know."

Five minutes later.

Her: "Yes, it is required."

Me: "Then it needs to be on the company form."

Her: "I'll advise them."

Twenty minutes later after opening the program, filling out the form, printing the form, scanning the form and emailing it to my clients for signatures after the fact, I thought how much easier it would have been to have my clients sign it at the same time they were signing all the other documents.

Management is aware the form is wrong, but they continue to use it. A flurry of phone calls are made after the file is submitted to comply with the unwritten rule and therefore missing documents. Can someone help me understand the logic here?

Psst. There's a simple way to correct this Keystone Cops routine.

Update the company guidelines.

Transitory Times

2008-11-27T11:35:00.000-08:00

This Thanksgiving finds America amid transitory times. Some good, some not so much, but change is inevitable and it comes whether we humans are ready or not.

Look around. Change is everywhere in nature and the universe. Transitions are often disruptive and painful. Our country is enduring such a period, and more than a few people are feeling the labor pains of the re-birth of a compromised country. In order for this to occur a reordering of power, wealth and purpose must take place. The shuffle has begun.

The titans of the financial industry (auto, and more to come I'm sure) have fallen off their white and very lucrative horse. May they look around while they are down on the ground and see the common man and woman. It's time for a slice of humble pie and a reality check guys. Why not give back the millions of dollars you gained at the future expense of subprime victims and American taxpayers? If you're looking for atonement for your irresponsible follies, may I suggest you begin with your checkbook. Children are hungry and homeless in America. If you won't give the money back, at least do some good with it.

The American taxpayers will not tolerate $600,000,000 bonuses and stock options for company executives they bailed out of bankruptcy. Fatcats, it time to trim your portion of the profitability pie--a thin sliver will have to suffice.

Oh, and park the company jets until the American taxpayers are repaid.

Divorced and Done

2008-11-23T11:03:00.000-08:00

Last night I was just getting comfortable for a Saturday night on the sofa with remote in hand when my cell phone rang.

My best friend's voice was on the other end, "It's final."

"What's final?"

"My divorce. I received the final decree yesterday."

"That's good, right?"

"Oh yeah, but you know it is number three."

"Yes, but three divorces are better than two divorces and one miserable marriage, isn't it?"

"I like your math. Shall we celebrate my freedom?"

Short pause. I really was so ready for a quiet night on the couch, but she was in need of companionship to help mark a life passage. "I'll call you back in ten minutes with an answer. Got to check my face in the mirror and see if there's any hope of getting it ready for a night on the town on short notice!"

As I pushed the end button, I toyed with the idea of remaining on the sofa, letting a few minutes pass then backing out with the lame excuse of my hair needed to be shampooed, or my allergies were acting up or some other reason I could not go out with her.

Instead I took a long look in the bathroom mirror and had a little talk with my reflection. "Years ago when you were going through the end of a marriage, who was the first person to take you on a girls' night out?" Thought so.

I thought about all those weekends in the desert when we were both between relationships. I thought about the holidays and late night outings that ended with 2:00 AM breakfasts at an all night diner. Looking back those were some of the best times of my life.

I dialed her number. "I'll pick you up in 45 minutes, and it's your night and your choice. Give me a destination and I'll drive us there."

Being there.

That's what friends are for.

For the Love of a Vampire

2008-11-22T10:20:00.000-08:00

Girls are standing in line for hours to see 'Twilight' the movie about a blood-sucking boy and the girl who loves him. What's the attraction? Chivalry, me thinks!

As girls move to the forefront in academia, sports and other competitive arenas they no longer have to dummy themselves down or play coy on the court. They rely on their own wits and talents. They're winning and they're loving it, but who do they fall in love with? Rock stars and vampires!

Guys, I hate to tell you this, but even little girls prefer alpha males, especially one who cares deeply for 'the one' he loves.

Some things never change.

Women want the same thing.

Restrooms, Toilets and Other Design Failures

2008-11-19T19:56:00.000-08:00

At a California Governor's Inaugural Ball the line to the lady's room was half a block long--no kidding---A friend and I looked at the men's line--oh, that's right there was no line. We exchanged solidarity glances, entered, announced ourselves and used the men's room much to a few guys' utter amazement.

Yes, the event planner for that big party made a huge mistake. They installed equal number of toilets for men and women, but there was also a row of urinals for the guys. Hello, do the math. Most of the men were lined up at the urinals. Most of the stalls were empty. We walked right in, claimed an empty stall, locked the door and took care of business.

By the time we washed our hands and walked out, I won't name names because you would recognize it, a certain someone was standing out front inviting the ladies to come in and use the facilities. Score one for the girls!

As I was leaving the Ball, a woman came up to me and shook my hand. I smiled with a quizzical look. She said, "Because of you, I didn't pee my pants tonight."

Please, the next time you're in charge of a designing public restrooms, give the women many, many more than the men.

Alpha Couples

2008-11-15T17:10:00.000-08:00

Barack and Michelle are one, so are Hillary and Bill. Cindy and John qualify too. Angelina and Brad are the ultimate alpha couple in movieland. Does mating with your equal make a happy match or create a power struggle?

Based on the relationships of my life, I think it creates a balance that keeps power and respect shifting back and forth between the couple. The spotlight moments are shared; sometimes the light shines brighter on her, other times on him. Unlike relationships (and I was in one for a very long time) where one party is insecure and fears he will be left in the shadows if a spouse steps into the light.

These are exciting times. More and more alpha couples are posed to redefine marriage as they remove the old boundaries of male and female roles and forge relationships no longer restricted by cultural conformity. These power unions will have a trickle down effect on the average American Joes and Janes as they build their lives together.

And as Martha says, that's a good thing.

Bad Boys Throw Acid in the Faces of Afghan Schoolgirls

2008-11-14T16:03:00.000-08:00

Good grief, what century are we living in? How can the citizens of the 21st century tolerate such despicable behavior?

Those are the questions that raced through my mind as I read this unsettling news story. We will go to war over oil, but we allow men to disfigure girls and women because they do not want them to go to school.

What are these bullies afraid of? I say hunt them down with the same intensity we tracked the Taliban and Osama bin Laden. Let's make a world statement here. A public scolding is not punishment enough.

Women Are Not Welcome In The West Wing

2008-11-09T06:30:00.000-08:00

OK, I get it, but I don't like it. The Oval Office is sacred male territory. A few women have tapped on the door, but entry was denied and the welcome mat was missing. Although both women vying for entry in this year's election had resumes many a male politician would covet, they both endured scrutiny, critique and criticism based more on their gender than on their records.

Let's see, Sarah Palin was not smart enough, Hillary was too smart. Sarah did not have enough experience, Hillary had too much. Sarah was too pretty and a former beauty queen, Hillary was not pretty enough and had less than the male desired hourglass figure. Sarah had so many children she would have no time to be vice president, Hillary was married to a former president and would be hampered by his presence, plus he would be in the awkward position of playing First Gent!

In my opinion it stems from fear of female power. When a person generates such a strong negative reaction it is usually driven by fear and ignorance. A personal attack is a method of self-preservation and an attempt to preserve the power and position of the parties in power.

I thank both Hillary and Sarah for moving women up a rung or two on the equality ladder. Now I look to Michelle Obama to continue the ascent. Although just last night I heard a remark about her legs not being her best asset.

Please, enough already.

The Juice on the Skinny Bitch Diet

2008-10-26T07:28:00.000-07:00

First, let me say, dieting is hard to do. I've broken up with the Skinny Bitch one a time or two, but we're working things out and getting back together--with a few changes.

I'll be the first to admit that darn diet changed my eating habits--for the better. My crisper contains more fruits and veggies and my pantry shelves are no longer filled with processed food filled with preservatives and difficult to pronounce unknowns. My digestive tract does less grumbling too.

The sight of all that bloody meat at the market sends me scurrying to the colorful fresh produce aisle. I rarely place a can in my cart except for tuna and salmon. I choose organic when given the opportunity. I eat greener, fresher and almost chemical free. Yippee for me!

So why doesn't my bathroom scale reflect this happiness? Good question. I guess you can have too much of a good thing too. You see in order to eat all those fruits and veggies I bought a juicer, and I love that shiny little machine. I juice five fruits every morning and five vegetables every evening.

I'm possessed by fresh juice. I wake up in the morning thinking about what fruit mimosa I'm going to concoct. After work, my new happy hour is watching five veggies become an elixir from the earth compliments of Mother Nature.

So thank you Skinny Bitch Diet, I've made progress but there is still work to do. I'm still dealing with the sugar devil and a work schedule that steals me away from those long walks I enjoy along the bluffs above the Pacific Ocean.

Life is a journey, change is a process and bad habits are hellishly hard to kick to the curb!

My Vote is in the Mail

2008-10-22T09:21:00.000-07:00

I've had the ballot for a couple of weeks. I planned to vote immediately after the final presidential debate, but my decision was still clouded, so I left the ballot untouched on my desk and waited for my choice to become clear.

I vote for the person, not the party. I think character and integrity are more important than platforms and promises. I vote not only for the economy of Norma, but for what I believe and hope is best for the world, our country and my grandchildren. I think it's selfish not to take the long view of the legacy our lifetime imprints on world history.

With pen in hand and a steaming cup of hot tea to sip, I cast my vote for:
The presidential candidate I believe to be the more highly evolved human being, and under whose stewardship I hope our country will find new respect in the world, renewed prosperity at home, and a more conscious way of living on this planet with all the other inhabitants.

My voice has spoken, make sure yours is heard too. Vote.

How Many Guys Think Guy is a Gold Digger?

2008-10-20T17:04:00.000-07:00

Just a few months ago when the Paul McCartney and Heather Mills divorce was dominating the celebrity divorce news Heather was called a gold digger (and much worse) during their dissolution of marriage. Now the roles are reversed and Guy Ritchie is seeking millions from Madonna.

I'm curious to see if a guy, or Guy, gets a gender break. However, I think it really is a wonderful statement for the advancement of women, that a self-made woman has built a fortune that supersedes her husband's wealth, and now he wants part of her money, even though he has a reported $25,000,000 of his own money. Looks like the girls no longer have an exclusive claim on the gold digger tiara!

On the surface it appears he wants Madonna's money more than he needs it. On the other hand, if he was a supportive husband and father, gave up his earning power for the good of the family, and can prove he would have earned $60,000,000 if he had not married Madonna, then he has a legitimate claim to funds earned.

Their spiritual journey has ended.

Is Guy just a material guy?

Lipstick Fiction

2008-09-21T09:45:00.000-07:00

I thought you might enjoy some light fiction--sometimes it is fun to escape the daily grind and submerge yourself in a refreshing fictitious fantasy life....if you enjoy it there's more at: http://lipstickfiction.blogspot.com/

Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep. Scott Adams

Chapter 11: COWBOY HEAVEN
Noa realized her core was no different at fifty-seven than it was at seventeen. Some things remain constant. In this she took comfort. At times, the rest of her world seemed to be spinning out of control. War, financial messes, wrecked relationships and work related woes could be overwhelming. It helped to stand back and observe, instead of trying to force her will upon the world as she once did. Sometimes life requires a person to be a spectator instead of a participant. It was a challenging task for Noa, but one she was learning to accept most of the time and actually enjoy at other times.

At various times in her life Noa fell victim to at least five of the seven deadly sins. Sloth and Gluttony were the two she had successfully avoided thus far. To Noa, sins were like burns. There were varying degrees of seriousness. Most of hers fell into the first and second-degree categories. Madders was third degree all the way.

He stepped off the bus carrying a saddle. Think Brad Pitt, a little taller, more chiseled, in a sweat stained cowboy hat, with a two-day stubble and wearing chaps. Noa and Elizabeth were window-shopping in Jackson Hole years earlier on the last vacation they took as a family before the divorce. The rest of the family, exhausted from the drive, opted to watch an in-room movie. Noa and her daughter went for ice cream, a walk around the town square, and a little night air.

The bus pulled to the curb, and both Elizabeth and Noa turned toward it, most likely from the noise and odor it emitted. Their eyes locked on the same object. Then, after a quick glance at one another, back to “the cowboy.”

“I’ll take that one.” Elizabeth’s teenage lust was in full bloom at sixteen.”

“You have excellent taste, my dear.” Noa continued to gaze as the cowboy lighted a cigarette while he waited for his baggage to be unloaded curbside. Better than the Marlboro Man. “Hmm, we’d better go.”

“Not yet, Mom, let’s watch a little longer.” Elizabeth pleaded as Noa began to saunter toward the next gallery window.

Noa felt a need to distance herself from the exquisiteness of his form; those sleek long lines and perfect proportions, but she turned back and reveled in the moment. “He is a vision. Remember this one, it’s a once in a lifetime treat.” Noa licked the melting chocolate from the side of the cone, and admonished her daughter. “It’s rude to stare, mind your manners.” But Noa, like her daughter, could not resist. The temptation took on a power of its own.

The cowboy threw his cigarette butt on the sidewalk, ground it out with his boot heel, threw the saddle on his right shoulder, picked up his lone bag and began to walk away.

“Let’s follow him Mom.”

“Elizabeth---we shouldn’t.” But Noa had never wanted to pursue anyone more in her entire life. Primal urges surfaced beyond her control, and Noa was flooded with unbridled desire for the complete stranger, the cowboy. Good Lord, what am I thinking? He’s twenty-eight, thirty at most, maybe no older than twenty-five. And I have children, a husband and responsibilities. What am I doing?

“We have to, he’s a walking piece of art.” At sixteen Elizabeth’s passions were boys, art and horses, the latter was the longest-lived.

And so they did.

The cowboy left the town square and headed in the direction of Noa’s hotel. It was a warm August night and the sidewalks were filled with urban people playing cowboy for a week, but Noa sensed he was aware they were following him. He turned once, paused for only a second, and then continued walking.

Noa touched Elizabeth’s arm. “Honey, we have to stop this. Let’s go back to our hotel.” As she spoke the cowboy looked back at them again, a little longer this time. Noa took her daughter’s hand and stopped in the street. “Let’s go, we’ve had our fun.”

They watched as the cowboy cut across the street, and disappeared into the night. Noa felt a sense of loss as the vision disappeared. That will never come again. She closed her eyes and made sure he was imprinted in her memory forever. She recognized and appreciated God given beauty, and she was sure she would forever treasure the cowboy as a beautiful memory and cherished moment in her life. His essence moved her in a way she had seldom, if ever, been moved before. She doubted Elizabeth would ever forget this night too. It was an unlikely mother daughter bonding experience.

They walked in silence until Elizabeth spoke. “Mom, we met the universal man tonight.” Elizabeth’s mood was giddy.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I thought he was absolutely hunky, and I could tell you liked him too.”

“Oh, really? And our unanimous approval makes him the universal man?”

“Yep, sure does.”

A New Tilt to the World As We Know It

2008-09-20T21:30:00.000-07:00

Last week was a wild ride in the US financial markets, and don't take your seatbelt off yet. My guess is there will be many more ups and downs before we hit smooth water again.

I had clients call and ask if they should take their money out of Washington Mutual. I had buyers put their offer on hold until the lending situation improves--heaven only knows when I will make that sale.

What's a real estate agent to do? This one rolled out of bed and pulled out the yoga mat. Yes, it's time to take a few deep breaths, inhale, exhale and hold on. Next, I went for a walk and by the time I returned home I actually was smiling.

$700 billion is a lot of bad loans and don't you wonder why it wasn't stopped at say 100 billion? I'm all for capping salaries and bonuses for the Wall Street movers and shakers, and the big boys at the banks we're bailing out. I'm seeing the little guys who took out those junk loans lose their houses; I think it's only fair the institutions who made the loans and sold them off lose something of value too.

Let's play fair for a change.

High Heels in the White House

2008-09-10T21:38:00.000-07:00

The long, tall shadow hovering over the other three candidates in the presidential, yes, I said presidential race, has an unfamiliar shape to it; it is distinctly feminine.

That's highly unusual in the land of cowboy and Indians (male figures come first to mind), the land of the free (but women have had the right to vote for less than 100 years) and the home of the brave (women make up 54% of the voting public and hold a disgracefully low percentage of political power positions). But change is in the air.

Maybe Sarah will be on the winning ticket and maybe she will not. It doesn't really matter. Hillary made a historic run for president, and Sarah continues the fight to break through the gender blockade to the White House.

It may take a woman like Sarah to be the first woman Vice President of the United States. She's smart, tough and gets the job done, yet she also reveres motherhood, family and life. Not to mention she's a babe with a beauty queen past. Consequently, men (and conservative women) find her less threatening than a woman who advocate the right to choose and other more liberal viewpoints. White males are more comfortable with conservative women. Conservative women are more comfortable with a woman who shares their point of view. The silent majority ( and that would be the 54% of eligible voters) is tired of being represented by an overwhelmingly male voice. Her time of arrival is spot on.

She is one of us. She's juggled a family and a career. She is a small town American girl, and there are lots of women who share her story and are ready to see her make history. I don't agree with all her views, and I certainly don't agree with all of the views of the man who selected her as his running mate.

I do applaud him for his very brave choice.

In 2008 it's a shame a woman (or a black) on the ticket is so very newsworthy.

Women's Plight

2008-08-23T12:41:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday night I watch 60 Minutes' report on rapes in the Congo. I think the program was a rerun, but if you missed it, the women in that African nation are being raped by enemy groups as a form of terrorism in hopes of destroying families and communities. Actually, it's more of a 'Men Gone Wild and Getting Away with It' story. It was a painful story to watch and it is a despicable practice that has been allowed to continue far too long.

We sent troops to stop terrorism in one part of the world; but it seems there is little if any concern with terrorism in another part of the world. Could it be because the target is women, or is it because the Congo has no oil?

If, as watchdogs of the world, our mission is to stop terrorism and not merely to protect assets we want, why is the world tolerating the rape of women and girls as young as three years old?

Why I'd Leave Him

2008-08-15T16:37:00.000-07:00

During our evening power walk my daughter and I discussed John Edwards and the game he was playing with other peoples' lives. There were many players on the board; his wife, his children, his political supporters, a mistress and a possible child. John, John, John. Unfortunately, you are the new poster boy the all too common fallen American family man.

Pack his bags, Elizabeth.

Perhaps we expect too much from men. It appears they still want to roam the land and sow their seeds with no regard for the spouse they have vowed to forsake all others for. That is a fatal flaw in my book.

Pack his bags, Elizabeth.

I know you have cancer, Elizabeth, but you also have daughters and they need to see healthy relationships based on honesty, respect and mutual support. You also have a son. He needs to know there are consequences for stepping outside the boundaries of marriage and living a life of deceit, betrayal and dishonesty.

Pack his bags, Elizabeth.

Or as my daughter suggested, maybe we don't expect enough from men. Either way, I'm sure he did not live up to your expectations. None of us know how much time we have, but set a strong example for your children while you still have time. You deserve better and so do your children. He chose to spend time with another woman; time taken away from your children and you. Ponder what that tells you about his priorities as you move forward in the marriage.

You're a smart woman. American women (and men) are watching.

Pack his bags, Elizabeth.

2008-08-10T10:52:00.000-07:00

Is Everyone Messing Around?

2008-08-09T18:31:00.000-07:00

Geez, John Edwards did you forget your wife is battling cancer? Did you forget your children will forever be impacted by your lack of loyalty and betrayal? Oh, I get it, you were only thinking about yourself.

You lied with convincing ease. Thank heavens you lost your presidential bid. I can't think of any lower life form than a man who will cheat on his wife and throw his family's well-being to the wind. That should have been your highest priority, but you placed yours somewhere lower on your anatomy.

Of course Elizabeth has forgiven you. She has incurable cancer and there are minor children to consider. I'll bet she will never trust you in the same way. I'll bet your children will forever resent you for the way you treated their mother at a time when she needed your unwavering support.

If you can't lead your family with truth, loyalty and commitment, how could you possibly lead a country?

Forget politics. It's over. Go home and tend to your family.

Skinny Bitch Week One

2008-08-04T20:32:00.000-07:00

Today completes my first week on the Skinny Bitch life plan. I'm hesitant to call it a diet, at least for me it's more of a revolution. Hey, I'm a Midwestern girl and it was not uncommon for me to eat meat three times a day--some crispy bacon for breakfast, a turkey or tuna sandwich for lunch and some broiled fish or chicken for dinner. Until last week, it was not a meal unless it contained meat.

So what am I doing on an almost vegan diet? I'm thriving and loving it. Drum roll, please--I lost two pounds the first week. Yes, I slipped up a few times, but yesterday was my birthday and I had to have a couple of those sugary brownies. I also added a sliver of turkey to my mainly veggie sandwich at the beach picnic my kids threw for me. Hey, it was my birthday party!

Today was completely meatless, no dairy either, but I must confess that soy ice cream sandwich was pretty darn delicious and sugary. I'll keep working on having a sugar free day.

Things I'm loving about living the Skinny Bitch way:
Ice water with lemon or lime slivers--that's an old habit, but I'm stepping up the amount and frequency with which I imbibe.

Brown rice with white beans is a tasty source of protein.

Rye Crisp crackers--crunchy and so satisfying.

Melons and fruit for breakfast--so refreshing and light.

Things I'm having trouble with:
Sugar, sugar, sugar--obviously that's my big hurdle.

Giving up caffeine--I'm not sure I will ever give up my morning tea. I am working on drinking it without sugar--see, there it is again that evil sugar!

Tomorrow I'll get up early, do my yoga and drink my tea sans sugar--at least I'll start the day off strong and sugar free.

The Skinny Bitch Diet

2008-08-01T16:47:00.000-07:00

I know, I know, the name of this diet is a bit too much for many people. It definitely takes a "tough love" attitude, but I think those two former models are on to something. Their message is simply this: It is time to stop eating crap.

I'm not a great dieter, but this is more of a lifestyle change than a diet. True, you must give up eating meat, sugar and dairy products. So what's left? Plenty, and it's the good stuff. Fruits, vegetables, soy, whole grain, nuts and so on.

I've been on the diet four days, slipped up a few times on the sugar--still fighting that sweet tooth--but I'm down a pound which is no big deal compared to how much better I feel. My body likes what I'm feeding it, and I've vowed to live the skinny bitch way for the next 30 days.

Along with the change in foods I consume, I'll need to increase my intake of water, try to give up my morning caffeine and up my yoga practice.

Whee, it's a lot of work to create a new me!

2008-07-16T13:34:00.000-07:00

As I watched the Miss Universe Pageant last weekend (hey, I was tired after showing property, attending a client's birthday bash-a pig roast-but that's another post, and walking four miles in an attempt to shape up for an August wedding I will attend), I immediately noticed Miss Venezuela. She possessed The It Factor (IF), The Stand Out Factor (SOF).

Sure, there is no denying they were a bevy of beauties. Each gorgeous in her own right, but only one would wear the crown. Being a runner-up in a beauty contest is about as much fun as being the first runner-up on a listing appointment.

So why did Miss Venezuela win? It's hard to put your finger on the elusive IF/SOF. I noticed "it" in the way she moved, her carriage radiated confidence. From swimsuit to evening grown she owned her time on the stage. She looked like a winner because she believed in herself.

After picking my winner from the top 10, I went to bed. I was not surprised to see Miss Venezuela's picture when I turned on my computer the following morning. Her answer to the question asked of her was a winner too.

Belief is half the battle.

Wimbledon Finals: Overcoming Adversity

2008-07-07T18:59:00.001-07:00

I don't play much tennis anymore, but in my life there was a time when I lived to put on my pleated tennis skirt, and drop the kids (all four of them) at school or the club nursery, and head for the courts.

Saturday, as I watched Venus and Serena Williams take their positions on opposite sides of the net, I watched two athletes prepare to play one of the big four matches. Only one would prevail. Competing against your sister must be difficult. I recall playing a good friend in a tournament; we were of equal ability, but she thought I was the better player. It cost her the match.

Self-talk is a powerful thing.

Sunday morning found me on the sofa having strawberries and cream with my coffee, and settling in for a long men's match I expected Roger Federer to win. Rafael Nadal sent a quick message of not so fast, and in between doing a market analysis for a client and fielding phone calls regarding my new listing, I watched two of the best tennis players play the best match I've ever seen.

They were focused; both made adjustments. They each believed they could win. By the narrowest of margins Nadal was the victor. Federer, ever gracious in defeat, recognized his opponent's championship with obvious respect.

It was a pleasure to watch tennis played at such a high level. It was a greater pleasure to see two superstars behaving in role model worthy fashion. Finally, it was a spine tingling moment to watch the pursuit of attaining a goal with such determination and laser beam focus. It was a best effort day for each player. That's all anyone can ask for.

Nadal and Federer delivered their best. I felt gifted to receive it (along with millions of viewers), and I found myself thinking if at the end of each day we can say, ‘That was my best,' it's a no regrets kind of day, career and life.

Favorite 4th of July

2008-07-04T08:59:00.000-07:00

1953 is the first 4th of July I remember. My mother gave birth to a baby girl and my father celebrated by igniting a stick of dynamite! Yes, that's true, but let me explain.

This over the top celebration served three purposes. It removed a tree stump from farming ground, it marked the birth of my sister and it commemorated the 4th of July. Other Independence Day celebrations pale in comparison to Daddy's dynamite.

I always had my own stash of firecrackers since fireworks are legal in Missouri. It was much more fun to set them off than watch someone else do it. The thrill was not in hearing the boom, but rather in creating it. Passivity was never my thing.

I've watched many fireworks displays during the ensuing years, and although they are impressive and often even breathtaking, they never created the same level of awe as seeing my dad running across the field at Olympic worthy speed to us and safety. Then moments later the thunderous sound sent bits of roots flying high into the evening sky. It was a moving and magical sight.

It recognized the miracle of birth and the gift of family, the important of freedom to mankind and the ability of man to move mountains, well at least a stump, with one powerful blast.

It is the 4th of July I remember each Independence Day and one of my favorite memories of my father.

Enjoy today and make it memorable!

Visit my fiction blog at http://lipstickfiction.blogspot.com/

Moving On

2008-07-03T14:26:00.000-07:00

One of my dearest friends is moving to Palm Springs. We spent a very hot weekend in the Palm Springs area last weekend; it was 111 degrees. The heat did not change her mind; she's leaving Palos Verdes. After twenty plus years she is ready for a fresh start. Yikes, my friends are downsizing, retiring and kicking back.

We've both spent a lot of time in the California desert so it is familiar territory. She knows where she wants to live and I'll act as her agent. I listed her townhouse this week. Great, two sales, except it feels a little strange to be helping a good friend leave town. Thank heavens it's only 120 miles (and about the same for gasoline!) away, so we can still get together on a semi-regular basis.

As real estate agents we often participate in our clients' life changing moments. Marriage, births, divorce, retirement and death all trigger real estate related decisions. I'm honored to be there to help with the transition from one phase of life to another. As her agent, I will make every effort to provide guidance and options, plus find her a great deal!

As her friend, I'll take her to my favorite little French restaurant for breakfast, and my favorite restaurant for live music and dancing after a long day of housing hunting.

A lot of work, a little fun, and before she knows it she'll be desert bound.

Lipstick Fiction

2008-06-21T09:36:00.000-07:00

Heads up to all my loyal readers---future fiction posts will be on my new blog, Lipstick Fiction at
http://lipstickfiction.blogspot.com/.

I'm building the site this weekend, so come back for some fun reads real soon.

Mark it and visit often!

Friday Night Fiction Chapter 5

2008-06-20T20:04:00.000-07:00

You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will get too late. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter 5: IT’S ALL MATERIAL

“I’m being sued,” were the first words out of Pinky’s mouth. Her words were as sharp, spiky and dark as her short, chic and freshly coiffed hair. “Can you believe those sneaky bastards? After I reduced the price of the house fifty thousand, replaced the damn roof, and gave them another twenty thousand for new carpet and appliances! Those assholes!” Pinky’s words were fire-filled. She cursed profusely when upset. She deftly pushed the legal size envelope to Noa’s side of the table for inspection.

“What do they want?” Noa looked troubled, but she was all too familiar with this type of post-sale negotiations.

“A new house.” Pinky’s olive skin did not flush easily, but her checks were brightened and her newly tapered nostrils were flared. “I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Give me a moment to look this over and don’t panic. These things can usually be settled before it goes to court.” Noa smiled reassuringly as she opened the envelope.

Noa perused the document. Mold, health problems, medical expenses, living expenses to cover hotel stay until repairs completed, and reimbursement for the ever present pain and suffering. Two hundred and fifty thousand, plus the cost of repairs.

“It’s a shakedown. The little creeps know I have money. I’m not going to just hand them a quarter of a million dollars!” Pinky fumed. “I had a bad feeling about them.”

Noa nodded, sipped the cabernet and continued to read.

“I’ll need a copy of this for our attorney.” Noa looked directly at Pinky.

“Pinky, the company attorneys handle these types of demands all day long. Unfortunately, it isn’t all that unusual. I’ll send them a copy of the file along with this correspondence. Believe me, my transaction file shows we took every precaution, had every inspection and the buyer approved and signed every agreement. Our files are complete and clean. Now, we leave it up to the legal experts.”

“What should I do?”

“Nothing. Don’t call the new owners. Don’t call their attorney. Just go about your daily business and wait to hear from me.” Noa knew it would take hours of her time and months, if not years to resolve, but it came with the job, especially in litigious California.

It had taken them months to find just the right home in Beverly Hills, and both Pinky and Noa were thrilled when escrow finally closed. Pinky was anxious to leave her old life behind, and opted not to make any repairs to her home in Palos Verdes. She moved out and listed it with Noa. Noa knew that would play in Pinky’s favor. New repairs covered nothing up, and the house was sold vacant. What you see is what you get, along with reams of inspection reports and disclosures. Noa was not concerned.

“I lived in that house for twenty years, and now after living there less than two years, they have respiratory distress, allergies, joint pain and nosebleeds? Nosebleeds— do you believe that? And it’s the house. This is just insane. They won’t get a dime from me!”

“ I know, but we still have to deal with their demand. Let me handle it. Try to put it out of your mind for now. Consider it a nuisance at this point, and go on. I’ll keep you informed, and our attorney will copy you on all correspondence.” Noa tucked the envelope into her Longchamps tote. “Now, let’s eat. I’m starved. They have a great Thai Salad here.”

“That is quite a ring Jett gave his latest fiancé.” Pinky peered over the top of the menu to see Noa’s reaction.

“I’ve heard.” Noa did not look up.

“Actually, I saw the ring first, and then noticed she was with Jett. And, for your information, she is a real plain Jane. I don’t know what he sees in her. She’s no you”

Noa appreciated Pinky’s attempt to lessen the sting.

“The one thing Jett loves more than a beautiful woman, is money, and I hear she is loaded.” Noa’s comment was made without cattiness or animosity. It was simply the truth. Money was Jett’s true love, his family and the god he worshipped above all others.

He would bend, but not break, his ethics to savor success. Nothing excited him more—not an exquisite face, enhanced breasts or bodacious booty. Besides, that was his for the taking whenever he wanted it. The thing he admired most about a woman was a brilliant mind and the willingness to use it. Her other assets were secondary to Jett. Only a handful of women from his past met that requirement. Noa was on the short list.

Jett was brilliant in business and his opponents always underestimated him. More than once they set him up as the fall guy, but he was always the last man standing, and usually with his foot on their throat. This was extremely satisfying to the inter-racial kid fromWatts who still inhabited Jett’s psyche.

Jett was blessed with more than his share of natural gifts. He personified the old cliché of tall, dark and handsome, but he was also smart, talented and ambitious. The accumulated years had added extra pounds and girth to his middle, but his presence still commanded attention. His more aggressive characteristics were tempered by an innate generosity and appreciation of those who helped him achieve his goals. Noa was one of those people.

Their relationship was symbiotic. It was mutually beneficial, if not mutually exclusive. When they met, Noa was struggling to make ends meet while juggling single parenthood and a demanding residential real estate sales career. With two teenagers still at home, there was no room in her life for a serious relationship. Until Jett.

Pinky placed the menu on the table. “She’d have to be loaded to the gills. That’s the only way she could turn anyone’s head. Does she know this is his technique for raising money for his projects? The bigger the project the bigger her account has to be.”

Noa laughed under her breath. “I have no idea what she does, or does not know.”

Pinky was right. Noa was Jett’s only investor in his first development project. It was a small enclave of custom homes in the coastal community of Summerland. It was the beginning of Jett’s empire, and it was built on Noa’s back. She laid the financial foundation, and Jett built upon it. Her cash; his sweat. A substantial portion of the company belonged to her, and she knew if things went well the payoff would be worth the sacrifices. But in real estate development anything can happen and often did. It was a game of strategy and anticipation that Jett played well. Noa just needed to make sure he watched her back as well as he watched his own. She realized the return was commensurate with the risk. Both were huge, but Jett was the biggest risk of all.

“I’m not sure whether it was your assurance, or the wine, but I’m feeling much better. Thanks for meeting with me.” Pinky raised her wine glass in a salutary gesture. “I knew I could count on your cool head to see me through this.”

“It’s my job. It’s not always pleasant, but it’s what I do. Don’t worry, it’ll work out. Everything is workable is my mantra. Nothing spells doomsday short of Osama.” Noa tried to lighten Pinky’s mood.

She needed Pinky to feel confident the matter would be handled, and the last thing she wanted was for Pinky to incite the situation with threats and vulgar insults. Pinky often told Noa of situations in her past when she opted for revenge over resolution. Noa wanted no additional complications in the matter. Better to establish a hand’s off policy with Pinky from the start.

“Oh, Noa, before I forget, here’s the polish I promised.” Pinky pulled out several exquisite
crystal bottles containing varying shades of her latest line.

“It’s gorgeous and as usual, your timing is perfect. I’m so ready for real reds again.” Noa wore the natural nudes in spring and summer, but by autumn was ready for the richness and contrast of color. “If I get out of here now, I’ll have time to do a quick color change when I get home. Thanks for dinner and I’ll follow up on this.” Noa patted the tote.

Pinky stood, hugged Noa a little too long, and left a quick kiss that just brushed Noa’s check.

The old uneasiness surfaced as Noa left Houston’s. It was undefined, but still there.

Soulmates and Sex

2008-06-17T13:17:00.000-07:00

After a long day at work, followed by working out, I was ready to veg out and watch television--anything would do. I must admit I felt like I hit the jackpot when I heard the theme song from Sex in the City. It's great to get together with old friends, if you know what I mean.

Sure, the Sex in the City posse roved the streets of New York City, and my tribe traveled the freeways of Los Angeles and Orange County for our girls' night out adventures. It was never really about where we were going, or what we would do, it was about the friendships and delving deep into the sisterhood of female soulmates.

After being ensconced in a marriage with a non-communicative mate for many years, it was sheer joy to connect with my female friends. We dressed to the nines, sipped our wine and danced the nights away. Often the best part of the evening was the drive home, highlighted by our 3:00 AM stops at Denny's for breakfast and a review of the night. The food nourished our bodies, and although we did not realize it at the time, we were also nourishing our souls. We did not have mates, but we had something even better--soulmates.

The rerun I saw featured the usual man trouble and the search for true love, but Charlotte's comment to her lunch pals about being each other's soulmates made perfect sense. Besides, who said you can't have more than one soulmate? Who said your soulmate has to be someone of the opposite sex?

Later this week I have a date to see the Sex in the City movie. We will enjoy the movie and the memories. We're having a long overdue girls' night out at the movies. It's the early show and the Denny's restaurant is now closed, but that's okay, we've seen enough sunrises from the 405 Freeway.

We'll have a glass of wine and watch the sun setting over the Pacific as we re-connect our souls.

Taking the Test

2008-06-15T14:04:00.000-07:00

Take any road you please...it curves always, which is a continual promise... Mark Twain

The only way to pass a test is to take it. Disqualifying yourself before you begin is an excellent way to miss many pleasures in life. You might enjoy having a pet, or painting a picture, but you'll never know unless you try it. How many times have you heard others, or even said it yourself, "Oh, I can't do that." Banish such self limiting statements from your thoughts and you'll find yourself moving toward a fuller life, having more fun, and finding deeper fulfillment.

One thing I've learned is to take the opportunity when it presents itself. It may not pass my way again. Embrace your power by saying yes more often. My friend's college age daughter wants to spend a year backpacking through Europe and beyond. Her parents see this as an undesirable break in their daughter's education; I see it as a break she may not get again. Life happen. Jobs, marriage and children can postpone travel dreams for decades. My new motto is, 'Do it now.'

Focus on your wins, learn from your losses and move forward.

At the finish line you'll be glad you suited up for the test.

Friday Night Fiction Chapter 4

2008-06-13T13:00:00.000-07:00

It is one of the most beautiful compensations of life that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Chapter 4: PANDORA’S BOX

“And?” Noa offered the oversized coffee to Lonne.

“Well, he was nice, a real gentleman, but he lives on his boat, a small one at that.” Lonne removed her Chanel shades.

“Disappointing night?” Noa raised her eyebrows in anticipation, and turned to open the car door to remove her Loehmann purchases.

“Good looking, great conversationalist, acceptable car, mediocre sex, but a boat? That will never work. I can’t deal with that.”

Lonne fast-forwarded every relationship to determine if it was workable long-term. If not, she gave it only one night. Lonne’s favorite word was next. After two marriages, two live-in lovers, one long-term, the other very short, and a list of lovers that would rival Magic’s, she knew what she did not want.

“That fish is back in the sea.” Lonne laughed lightly. “It was fun seeing if I could hook him, but he was definitely not a keeper. I did enjoy the sport of it, but game over.”

Lonne turned to leave after a quick hug. “Let me know what’s up with Pinky. I haven’t heard from her in months.”

“I will.” Noa waved as Lonne sped off.

Pinky Arellano remained a mystery to Noa, even though she was a past client and they had socialized since Noa’s divorce.

In the past, Pinky, Lonne and Noa often made a trio on their girls’ night out. There was safety in three. If someone, usually Lonne, met a man, the other two still had a companion for the late night drive home. Noa hated nothing more than cruising down the 405 at two in the morning alone. It was a risk she didn’t need to take. She encountered enough crazies in her work and love life; she didn’t need to expose herself to meeting them on the road too.

“Oh, Noa, I’m so glad you called.” Pinky’s voice was soft, low and tinged with a Latin lilt.

“I had to wait until I had a free moment. Where have you been keeping yourself?”

“I just returned from Miami. My father’s been sick, but he’s much better now. I just got back late last night. I received your message, but things were so up in the air, I didn’t know when I would be returning.”

Pinky’s life moved from one crisis to another. It was the curse of her name, according to Pinky. Pinky was christened Pandora; a name chosen by her unwed teenage mother for its melodious ring, without knowing the story behind it.

Pinky’s mother left Havana at fifteen, pregnant, poor, but with a plan. She was stunningly beautiful with Jennifer Lopez looks and an Angelina Jolie body. By the time she was nineteen, she was married to a prominent Los Angeles businessman who left his wife to marry their maid.
After her new husband told her the story of Pandora’s Box, three-year-old Pandora became Pinky.

“How’s business?” Noa glanced at her Naked is Nice natural nail color from Pinky’s line of Barely There colors.

“Incredible. I had no idea it would ever become this big. I have a new line of reds, just in time for the holidays. I’m wearing To Die For, and it is blood red and beautiful. I’ll give you a bottle. With your coloring, I’m On Top would look fabulous.”

Strapped financially after the death of her third penniless husband, Pinky realized at age forty-eight her mother’s method of support was not working for her. She didn’t possess the natural beauty her mother was blessed with, but she was a natural with makeup. If she could not find just the right product, she blended, combined and substituted until it was right. Pinky’s Polish began in her garage seven years ago, and was now manufactured in nearby Vernon, and distributed worldwide. The blatantly bold, yet seductive names were a marketing success in their own right. Pinky’s line was used in the finest spas and salons and at fifty-five she achieved what no man had even been able to give her. Security, success, and power.

Her polishes were incredible. She concocted colors that were vibrant yet subtle, sexy but subdued. She made nail care simple again. The nail strengthener was in the base coat, and the topcoat was called Pinky’s Poly, because it contained polyurethane that sealed your fingernails as effectively as it did a hardwood floor. It lasted two weeks on natural nails with nary a chip. It was the only polish Noa wore. It sold like hotcakes on a cold morning in Maine.

“Fabulous. I’ll hold you to that.” Noa waited for Pinky to reveal the reason for the call.

“Would you like to have coffee or a drink later? I have something I’d like to discuss with you, if you have time. Or maybe a movie—it’s up to you.”

“Sure, I have time, and I’ll take the drink. I’ve already had too much coffee and no time for a movie tonight. Work’s been crazy and I have a marketing proposal to do for Jett.”

“That works. Sixish at Houston’s? And by the way, I saw Jett lunching at the Beverly Hills Hotel today. I’ll fill you in on that too.”

Pinky lived in Beverly Hills; nouveau riche and alone, except for her 36-year-old son who was not quite ready to be out on his own. Especially when mom had 6000 square feet, a pool and guesthouse. Besides, she was either working or traveling on business and he needed a base for his ever-changing business endeavors. Pinky adored her only child and treated him as such, even as he approached middle age. He was the child of the love of her life. Her childhood parish priest.

As a child, Pinky prayed to grow into a beautiful woman like her mother. Father McAfee listened to her feverish pleas. He arrived at Pinky’s parish when she was thirteen, fresh from seminary, and anxious to begin God’s work. Pinky attended the parochial school affiliated with the neighborhood church, and stopped by daily to light a candle and chat with Father McAfee when he was available. Soon, she found the highlight of her day was spending time with him, and she began to plan her visits accordingly. As did he.

Father McAfee was young, handsome and understanding. He sensed her insecurity and she became his first victim.

Noa recalled her shock when Pinky first told her who fathered her child. The unexpected revelation occurred on one of their late night drives home, both of them discouraged, disgusted and downhearted after dealing with the usual dregs of Saturday Night Society, the rejects and lost souls of the LA nightclub scene.

"We would have been better off sleeping than wasting our time there tonight.” Pinky steered the car onto the 405 freeway. “The good ones are all taken.”

Noa never expected to meet a keeper on their nights out. Pinky did.

Noa yawned. “Tell me about it. I could barely keep my eyes open, but you seemed enthralled with the guy you were dancing with. Any hope with that one?’

“No, none. He just reminded me of someone. That’s all.” Pinky added wistfully. “That was a long time ago, and all I have are memories and my son.”

“Your first husband?” Noa knew very little about Pinky’s past except she had been married three times.

“No, my first love and lover.” Pinky continued. “He ruined me for anyone else. We had sex in the Church, for God’s sake.”

It took a lot to surprise Noa, but she was silent and waited for Pinky to choose whether to continue or not.

Pinky continued. “It began when I was fourteen and a freshman in high school. It ended when I got pregnant at sixteen. My mother died without knowing who fathered her grandson.”

Noa waited.

“God only knows how many children that man has now. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.”

Noa searched for a question she could ask, without being too invasive. “Does your son know who his father is?”

“He thinks he does, but it’s not the truth. It was just easier to let him think it was my first husband. That’s the only dad he remembers, and besides, I can’t tell him his dad is our priest.”

Noa was speechless and thankful for the darkened car.

Pinky knew how to keep a secret, and she was confident Noa was capable of the same.

“That’s fine.” Noa snapped back to her conversation with Pinky. “I’ll drop off some paperwork for clients in Redondo. Order me a cabernet, and I’ll be there as close to six as possible.”

“Done. By the way, what’s new with Lonne?” Pinky couldn’t resist inquiring. “Is she still up to her old tricks?”

Pinky worked hard, and she admired Noa for doing the same. But Lonne was another story. Men and money came easy for Lonne. Pinky had never been so lucky. Her size alone eliminated most men. At five feet eleven she was an imposing figure. The 36 DD implants gave her the curves she always desired, and the artful application of makeup made her appear striking if not stunning. She loved her business, the freedom and financial rewards, but she was envious of Lonne’s luck.

“Yes, she’s still out there looking for the one.”

“Meanwhile there’s been a million and one.”

“Oh, that may be a little too high.” Noa came to Lonne’s defense even though she knew Lonne had long ago stopped counting.

“Don’t be too sure about that—her tally might top the recreational sex record of the entire NBA, let alone her beloved Lakers.” Pinky delighted in recounting Lonne’s sexual escapades. She paused, and then added, “She is shameless. She’d go to confession in a see-through dress if the priest was good looking.” Pinky was the lapsed Catholic, not California New Age Spirituality Lonne. Besides, given Pinky’s history with her priest, it seemed a tad judgmental. But Noa knew it was taboo to mention Pinky’s past.

Noa laughed, “That’s probably true, but he would have to very good looking! I’ll see you later.”

Noa glanced at the stack of files and considered calling Pinky back to cancel, but she was too curious, and besides, Houston's was one of Jett’s old hangouts. She felt foolishly girlish, but a chance meeting was an enticing possibility, and she was eager to hear about Pinky’s sighting.

Can Food Make You Happy?

2008-06-12T07:50:00.000-07:00

Yes, it can! One of my favorite feel good foods is chocolate. No one was happier than me when studies proved chocolate release endorphins --the happy, feel good hormone. Now for the dark side of dark chocolate, it can also make you fat, clog your arteries and sap your energy. Food can also make you sick and sad. It can steal years from your life. Like so many things in life, food is about making smart choices, and knowing when to just say no. That tub of buttered popcorn and box of candy consumed while watching a romantic movie offers momentary pleasures with longterm consequences.

I'll share some of my best keep food secrets, and I'd love to hear some of yours.

Drink water with lemon or lime in it all day long. I like mine in a big wine glass, and once in awhile when I'm in the mood for a few bubbles, I use sparkling water. I swear it cuts down on snacking. Often when we think we are hungry we are thirsty.

Eat food in its natural state. This means eating the peach instead of peach pie, and that is my favorite pie! My best substitute is fresh peach slices in sugar-free jello with a dollop of Cool Whip. I know, it's not peach pie, but it's not 1,000 calories either. I also like fresh peaches or berries over Angel Food Cake and yes, Cool Whip is a great topping here too!

Frozen grapes and leftover smoothies. Frozen grapes are delicious! They are my favorite summertime snack.

I often fix a smoothy for breakfast. This morning's was an overripe banana, a handful of blueberries, 1/4 cup of yogurt, 1/4 cup of cottage cheese, 1/4 cup of orange juice, a teaspoon of fiber and 6 ice cubes. Pop it all in the blender and in a minute or two a healthy and delicious treat awaits you. I drank a delicious 8 oz. glassful and froze the rest in hand-painted stemware. They are the perfect companion for mindless television/movie watching. They are satisfying plus it takes a long time to eat them, and that's a good thing.

Allow yourself a few guilt-free splurges. Happiness is hard to find if your are constantly denying yourself your favorite food pleasures. Have that croissant for breakfast, enjoy champagne with a friend, indulge in your favorite dessert without guilt. Reduce the size and occurrences but not the pleasure.

Oh, the latest information regarding brain health is it requires, yes I said requires, some fat for optimal function.

So be smart, choose your food and fat with care.

Happy eating!

The Thinning of America

2008-06-09T06:23:00.000-07:00

The outrageous price of gasoline may be the wakeup call so many of us need. It may even be good for us, yes, good for us. My weekend fill-up plus a carwash topped $100.00 for the first time. A milestone I won't soon forget, and although I have already made some changes in my driving habits, it does not require a crystal ball to see the price of oil will affect more than our pocketbooks.

It is entirely possible it will suck the fat from our bodies! No diet pills or gym membership necessary. Yes, the high price of gas may finally deliver the hot, hard body of your dreams! How? Let's follow this thread for a moment and see where it takes us.

More and more discretionary income is going into the millions of gas tanks in America. With less money to spend on fast food and morning Starbucks stops think of the collective calories not consumed. Those daily habits may soon become weekend treats and special occasions only. Whatever happened to brewing a cup of coffee at home anyway? When you factor in the cost of gas, plus the cost of a cup of designer coffee you may be less eager to part with the better part of a ten dollar bill for your morning boost.

Food prices continue to spiral upward. It takes a lot of gasoline to power all those delivery trucks, and that cost, dear consumer, is passed merrily along to you at the check-out counter. I recently heard the average American is twenty pounds overweight. What's in your shopping cart that you really don't need and shouldn't eat anyway? Do yourself and your wallet a favor and leave it on the shelf.

Grow your own vegetables. There are few things more delicious than sun ripened tomatoes plucked straight from the vine. You will benefit from the exercise of tending your garden, not to mention the convenience and cash saved. Those natural home grown foods will be doing some nifty things for your health and figure too. Mother Nature is there to help, but we must do our part too. Fuel yourself with more natural foods and ditch the processed, overpriced and over-packaged empty calories.

No room for a garden? Take a friend or two to the local farmer's market. Enjoy the social outing, share the cost of transportation, or better yet, walk if possible. Buying seasonal fruits and vegetables is a smart way to cut food costs; buying local is even better and more beneficial to your bank account. Plus, with a refrigerator and pantry stocked with fresh food you'll make healthier choices of what goes into your body. Maybe less really is more.

You may even thank those oil barons as the number on the bathroom scales goes down and your personal energy supply goes up.

Eat less, enjoy it more.

Friday Night Fiction Chapter 3

2008-06-08T19:17:00.000-07:00

“When you arise in the morning, give thanks for the morning light, for your life and strength. Give thanks for your food, and the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies with yourself.” Tecumseh, Shawnee Chief

Chapter 3: FROM WHENCE I CAME

The half moon shone upon the glassy waters of the Pacific as Noa wound her way down the switchbacks toward home. It was nearly nine o’clock, late for Noa, but she was looking forward to the remaining task of the day. Her bath.

The beach house was tiny, but it had a fabulous master bath with a jetted tub, and Noa indulged herself every night with few exceptions. It was where she let the present day go, planned the next as best she could, asked for guidance with the rest, and prepared her body for repose. A good night’s sleep was not guaranteed, especially at her stage of life, but Noa always emerged from her bath with a sense of calm tranquility and hopefulness.

Noa flipped through the mail as she filled the tub. She only read personal mail at night. The bills would have to wait for the light of day. No need to have creditors on her mind before sleep. The two did not mix well in Noa’s mind.

Noa sprinkled some lavender oil in the bath, lighted the single pillar candle and selected a lavender scent from the collection of bath gels and beads that lined the counter top. Almost time.

She turned back the bed covers, sprayed the sheets and pillow tops with lavender mist—there, her bed was ready.

Just as the bubbles were approaching the top of the tub, Noa eased into the enveloping waters.

A Realtor rarely turns off her cell phone, a mother with a son in a war zone never does. The calls can come at any time. Noa quickly reached for the phone. Jett.

He knew her habits.

“Hi, this is unexpected. What’s up?” Noa had not expected to hear from him for at least a few days, if not weeks, but he was totally unpredictable.

“Why? Is this a bad time?” Jett’s management style was autocratic, and on occasion, downright dictatorial, and he gave little consideration to anyone else’s schedule. There was no such thing as business hours in his world, just business.

“No, it’s fine. Go ahead.” Would it be business or personal, or a blend? Noa called it businal.

“Be at Clay Lacy’s at ten sharp on Saturday.”

“Where and how long?” Noa was accustomed to short notice and few details in both business and personal affairs with Jett. His fluidity irritated some of his associates, but Noa found it both refreshing and challenging.

“Park City, just for the day.”

“To do…” Noa’s voice trailed off.

Jett interrupted. “I’m taking some investors over to see the site, and you can get the information you need. By the way, I promised a lender I would deliver a market research update, and marketing plan to him by next Tuesday.”

“This coming Tuesday?” Noa exhaled slowly.

“It’s not that big of deal. Update the numbers, add some new photos –just pretty the old report up with the latest stats and new date.” Jett had a way of minimizing the effort, but expecting maximum results.

There was no way she could be prepared by Saturday, and half the people she needed to see would not be available on the weekend. At most, she would have three hours to do a job that required at least three days, and she still did not have a signed contract.

That was the thrill and exasperation of her job, and especially with clients like Jett. Variety, spontaneity, and unpredictability were a part of every day.

“See you at ten on Saturday. Bye.” She knew better than to argue. It would be.

Noa placed the phone beside the tub, closed her eyes for a final minute in the bath, and resolved to do the best she could. Over the years she had leaned that everything is workable, and with the help of the Internet, emails, faxes and phone calls she would fill in the holes and deliver the plan on Jett’s timetable.

Noa slipped into her robe, and deftly completed her bedtime routine. The teeth, the face, the estrogen and testosterone cream, the progesterone capsule, the DHEA, the melatonin, the thyroid capsule, the body moisturizer and lavender oil on her temples. Going to bed was not as simple as it was in her youth, but the payoff was well worth the effort. Energy was no longer an entitlement of only the young. Noa’s most recent lab results showed her body was fine tuned and functioning at optimum level for her. She felt she had the best of both worlds---the juice of her youth and the wisdom of her age. Noa was finally ready to unleash both.

Noa knelt to pray, to meditate, and to quiet her mind in preparation for the night ahead. Then slipped between the freshly scented sheets. Sleep came quickly.

Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, That Your hand would be with me, and that You would keep me from evil.

It was an obscure little prayer with four requests. It was a perfect realtor’s prayer. Noa needed to expand her territory. More listings would be a true blessing, and a way out of the financial fiasco she found herself in after a three-year relationship with Dr. Real, who was anything but real. She would readily accept guidance from above to avoid the unscrupulous and litigious nature of the real estate world. Jabez’s Prayer became her prayer.

Noa had never heard of Jabez until a few years ago, despite her Baptist youth, but it had become the second prayer she uttered upon opening her eyes each morning. The first one being for the safe return of her son, Jake, from Iraq, with that one oft repeated during the day and wakeful nights.

Even though Noa now considered herself more Buddhist than Baptist, she drew her spirituality from a variety of sources and past experiences. Her great grandmother was a half-breed Fox Indian, the offspring of a French trapper on the Mississippi River and a young Indian maiden. The American Indian’s reverence for nature and respect for the land ran deep within her veins.

Noa made sure her footsteps only kissed the earth and left no mark behind. She marveled at the successes of man, but she was awestruck by the creations of God. Nothing man made could be called competition.

Noa believed in angels, and life after earthly demise. She had witnessed the first and glimpsed the second. She believed yoga was as close to organized religion as she would ever come. It aligned not only her body, but her mind and spirit as well. She believed the world would turn more smoothly if we could live by the key tenet of every major religion. Some rendition of The Golden Rule, but that would require a revolution in the way we live our daily lives. She believed we had become too busy to love. Love takes time, real time, and lots of it.

Noa swabbed her stomach in preparation for her daily HGH injection, just as her cell rang. Hmmm, Pinky. It had been weeks since Noa heard from her. She was curious, but opted to let it go to voice mail.

Pinky was crazy, in a harmless up-to-this-point-sort-of-way, but Noa was reluctant to get too close. Even though Pinky relayed her episodes of stalking past lovers and phoning the current wives of old flames with a sense of joie de vivre, Noa quietly disapproved. She sensed there were darker things she didn’t know about Pinky, and that was the way Pinky wanted to keep it.
Pinky revealed bits and pieces of her life but never enough to paint a complete picture. Noa had an uneasy feeling Pinky was capable of crossing the line—any line, if it served her well.

Noa always returned calls from four to five in the afternoon. Pinky would have to wait until then.

“I’m on my way, get the Starbucks and make it a large one. I’m running on three hours sleep and I look terrible.” Lonne sounded upbeat, and Noa knew there was a story to be told about last night’s adventure.

“Grande it will be.” Noa’s desk faced the street. “Just pull up in front and I’ll bring it out and transfer my things to my car. You’re a doll for doing this.”

“See you in twenty minutes or so.” Lonne liked to keep her phone conversations short. She much preferred one-on-one interactions and actions.

Real estate was a means to an end for Lonne. It was social, required networking, lunching, dressing up, a luxury car and it presented endless opportunities to meet men. Lonne specialized in luxury homes along the coast, which translated to wealthy homeowners. A sale or purchase was often precipitated by divorce or death, and Lonne was an expert at consoling the brokenhearted.

Lonne spent hours perfecting her golf game with the pro at Trump National Golf Course; Donald Trump’s course in Rancho Palos Verdes. She always practiced with a client, which enabled her to write it off as a business expense, improve her game and keep an eye on the playing field. She conducted business in two places: the golf course and the bedroom-- sometimes both on the same day with the same client. Lonne flaunted her availability with just enough dignity to keep it respectable. She didn’t attempt to hide her sexuality. Now that she had found it.

Friday Night Fiction No. 3

2008-05-31T08:25:00.001-07:00

You win some, you lose some, and some get rained out, but you gotta suit up for them all. J. Askenberg

Chapter 2: SLINGS AND FLINGS

Noa switched the radio off and slipped the French language CD in, although she was meeting Lonne in nearby Torrance at their favorite discount store, she knew at this time of day it could be a forty-five minute drive. Her favorite way to decompress after a busy day was to occupy her mind with something totally unrelated, but something that required intense focus. She double checked to make sure she had the customer files she needed to review in the morning, opened a fresh bottle of Fiji water and eased the Jaguar out of the parking lot. Je veux…Je ne veux pas. Noa smiled as she repeated the phrase. I want…I don’t want, and knew she had some decisions to make.

It was useless to be in a hurry at five o’clock anywhere in the Los Angeles area. Even the winding road of the Palos Verdes Peninsula were filled with cars snaking their way back up The Hill and leaving the flatlands of the Los Angeles Basin below. It was two separate worlds. Noa moved between both with ease.

Pacific Coast Highway was jammed and Hawthorne Boulevard was worse. Noa began to wonder if this was a good idea. She usually avoided driving the main thoroughfares during rush hour. Real estate allowed her the luxury of scheduling her appointments at her discretion, and shopping while others were at work, but Lonne could talk her into almost anything.

A torturous forty minutes later Noa arrived to find the parking lot full. She cruised several aisles before spotting a space directly opposite Lonne’s new Beamer.

“Aha, success.” Noa pulled down the visor mirror to check for smudges, smears and lipstick bleed lines before entering the store.

Lonne was not hard to spot. Blonde, with hair piled high for a few extra inches, and in a bright orange tweed suit with her ever-present stilettos, she was as effective at stopping traffic as any red light.

“Any luck?”

“Oh, yeah! I’ve even put several in the dressing room for you to try. What do you think of this one?” With her blue eyes dancing, Lonne held a plunging neckline number in front of her. The Swedish accent was faintly detectable even though Lonne came to the US while still in her twenties.

Noa rolled her cat green eyes. “For me or you?”

Noa found it easy to shop with Lonne. Even though they were both size six, and struggling to stay there, there was no competition between them. Their styles and tastes were uniquely their own. Both serious shoppers, in less than twenty minutes with arms piled high, they headed to the dressing area.

The fall suit sale was a big annual event. By noon the following day the racks would be empty except for the damaged and undesirables. Years before, after arriving at the start of the sale, and finding it was almost over, Lonne developed a loyalty bond with one of the Eastern European clerks. She arranged to shop the night before, and the clerk would hold the suits until Lonne arrived the next morning. In return, Lonne would deliver last year’s purchases to the clerk to be sent to her family in Romania. Nothing stayed in her closet for more than twelve months, and she loved the idea of someone enjoying her hand-me-downs. Lonne’s heart was in the right place, plus it gave her first choice of the current year’s crop of designer markdowns.

Noa selected year round fabrics because the cool mornings and evenings in Southern California almost always required a jacket, but by mid-day the temperature was usually balmy, even in winter. With either a shell or shirt underneath, every suit became an all season outfit. She purchased a few stands of pearls in varying lengths, while Lonne scooped up handfuls of big brooches, pouffy hair adornments and bright colored sunglasses to round out her look. They each succumbed to their shoe addiction and purchased several pairs of slings, pumps, and slides.

Thank heavens that’s done for another year.” Noa commented as they headed to the parking lot hands free.

“I’ll pick them up at nine in the morning, before the store manager arrives. Shall I drop yours at your office?” Lonne worked in a real estate office on the opposite side of the Peninsula in Palos Verdes Estates.

“If it’s not too much trouble that would be great, but I can meet you here.”

“Totally unnecessary. I have to drop by and get my Botox touchup, and this is only five minutes out of my way.”

Lonne started her maintenance program early in life, and held to it religiously. She adhered to the old adage of, “a stitch in time saves nine.” With her half-century birthday on the horizon Lonne only increased her efforts. Staying hip requires maintenance; lots of it, especially in body conscious, looks-are-everything-LA. And it was obvious Lonne invested a sizable amount of her monthly spousal check in the Lonne body fund. The dividends were received in confidence building drools and stares, and she felt certain the ultimate payoff would be her soul mate, not all those imposters and stand-ins she was currently dealing with.

“Then my office it is. I’m starved. Where and what shall we eat?”

“Let’s stop by the Hilton and see if anything is happening at the bar. We can have a glass of wine, share an appetizer and call it a night.” Lonne loathed dining alone, shunned fast food and family dining restaurants. Instead, she opted for drop-in grazing at the finest hotels and bars. It made for a more interesting evening, and Lonne was always ready to gamble this could the place, the night and magical moment her prince would arrive. Her third prince, and more than likely, not her last.

Lonne possessed two distinctively different personalities: Lonne the generous, loving caretaker of two daughters, the doting mere-mere of her baby granddaughter and the savior saint of stray animals. And Lonne the cold-blooded, take no prisoners, man-predator with razor sharp instincts. People often insisted she could be Ivana Trump’s West Coast twin. She was just as savvy and equally as charming with her Euro worldliness and Barbie doll looks. Underneath the fluff there was steel reinforcement. Lonne was no man’s fool.

Noa slipped off her heels as soon as she sat down. She would have preferred a booth, but Lonne insisted on sitting at the bar.

“No one will approach you if you’re sitting in a booth or at a table, especially if you are with a friend. We have to sit at the bar. It shouts availability.” Lonne was much more the expert in that arena.

“I’m not sure I want to shout tonight, maybe just a little seductive whisper. It’s been an interesting day, and I need to mull over the events and put them in perspective.”

“Oh yeah, how did your lunch go?” Lonne repositioned her stool as she spoke to have a better view of the room.

“Short, interesting, unsatisfying, but just what I expected.”

“Nothing resolved?” Lonne’s eyes roved the room, but saw no one of interest.

“Never, ever. If we resolved things, we could both move on, and I’m not sure that is what either one of us wants.” Noa was amazed at the clarity and truth of her words.

She and Jett had a seven-year off-and-on thing. Right now it was off and he was engaged to a wealthy divorcee, yet they were never far off each other’s radar screen. True, they had lived together for nearly a year, started a real estate development company together, and worked 16-hour days side by side. Their entanglement went far deeper than money and work. She never doubted he loved her, but she knew his love was not exclusively hers, and Noa was tired of sharing.

“I don’t know how you put up with all the BS and other women too. Geez, he’s already been married to someone else since you met him, and now he’s engaged again, but still calling you. I don’t get it.” Lonne was not very adept at hiding her displeasure with Noa regarding Jett. “He’s a rogue and I don’t like the way he keeps you on the line. You’re just his backup girl.”

“I hardly feel like anyone’s girl.” Noa nibbled at the shrimp appetizer. “And besides, I guess I am the other woman--again.”

“That’s too a high a price to pay. Are you sure you want to go there again? You’ve already made a huge investment in time and money with that man, and you have nothing to show for it. The others are wearing diamond rings and expensive watches and all you get is lunch.” Lonne had a way of sizing up the situation and placing reality right in front of your face.

“I appreciate your concern, really I do, but right now I truly am putting the business agreement ahead of anything personal. I’m focusing on investing in myself instead of in my man of the moment. If I can help him, fine, but not at my expense. It has taken me years, make that decades to learn that lesson.”

“Good for you.” Lonne raised her glass and they toasted their usual toast, “to us.”

They both knew what a treasure they were in each other’s life. It is rare to find someone who understands your core, and they did. They didn’t always approve, but they never judged. Their politics were polar opposites, they were raised nations apart and didn’t meet until midlife, but their connection and bond was stronger than blood. It was spiritual, from an unexplained realm. They were simply drawn to one another from the first time they met as rookie real estate agents nearly fifteen years earlier.

They had made numerous deposits into each other’s emotional support accounts, always without asking, and never reminding. They were simply available when needed. Always. Their friendship was equal without being measured, loyal without being tested and supportive without being dependent. It was exactly the relationship they wanted to have with a man, but those relationships always fell far short of the standard. Lonne still hoped such a man existed and held onto the belief it was possible, but Noa was beginning to admit the odds were against it, and it was time to live accordingly.

“Wow, don’t look now, but a very distinguished older guy just walked in. Great hair, suit and shoes. They look like alligator.” Lonne spoke in a barely audible monotone.

Lonne couldn’t see the bar tab total without her glasses, but her distant vision was eagle sharp, especially when it involved the potential of an available man. Even if he was only available for the evening, he was still fair game. In her set of rules, all men were available until they were dead. Sometimes they were temporarily off the market due to engagements and marriage, but most of them resurfaced sooner or later. Lonne respected their attachment level as much as they did. After all, it was their commitment not hers.

“I’m out of here my dear.” Noa began to gather her wrap and bag. “You’ll have more success sans me, and besides, I have an early appointment. Happy hunting, and call me when you’re on the way to my office in the morning. I’ll have a Starbucks waiting for you as a small token of my appreciation.”

Noa walked past the gentleman as he headed toward Lonne.

Friday Night Fiction No. 2

2008-05-31T08:25:00.000-07:00

Noa felt his presence. She looked up to see him entering the restaurant with his usual self-assured stride.

“Have you ordered yet?”

Noa responded with a shake of her head. “Waiting for you.”

Jett motioned the server. He expected and received immediate service, but coupled his demands with manners and generous tips that had the staff stumbling over each other to serve him.

Noa took out the notes she prepared for their meeting. She knew it would be short, interrupted, a mix of business and personal anecdotes, plus requests, a few demands and over too soon.

“How’s the marketing plan progressing?” Jett swirled and sipped the cabernet as he waited for Noa’s reply. Nodding, he signaled the server to pour, without losing eye contact with Noa.

“I need to re-visit the site and update my data on the competing projects, but before I do that I need a signed contract for the brokerage.”

Jett was not an easy man to pin down. He was fluid in his business dealings, his personal life, and definitely in his commitments.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to that. I’ll have Goldberg prepare it next week.”

Noa wanted the deal sealed with ink. Verbal was just banter in the real estate world. This was a deal agents dream of, and she was willing to tolerate outrageous behavior to make it hers. Noa loved real estate deals almost as much as she loved this man.

“Here are a few of my ideas. Nothing concrete, but some of the basic marketing tactics we’ll want to initiate as soon as you close on the property.” Noa slid the papers across the table to Jett, and waited for his response.

Jett took the paper, folded it in half without reading it, and placed it in his telephone book-size address book. Noa knew the rest of lunch would be personal. Catching up, filling in, sizing up. The “I’m doing fine without you, but what have you been up to?” exchange they both found exhilarating.

Friday Night Fiction

2008-05-26T10:48:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day marks the beginning of summer, and for years it has been my habit to purchase a couple of novels to read at the beach or on vacation during the slower summer months (and I must confess, at a slow open house). After finishing them I would often say, I could have written that!

Here goes!

WORTH IT

Life is a great big canvas, and you should throw all the paint on it you can. Danny Kaye

Chapter 1: IT ALL BEGINS SOMEWHERE

Noa relished a secret satisfaction after peeing in the shower. She was not quite sure whether it was derived from the cleansing of her external body while simultaneously ridding her body of internal toxins, or whether she was simply multitasking. Either way, it simply felt good, but she sure as hell was not going to share this with anyone.

Noa smiled wryly, and remembered the first time she committed her secret little sin. It occurred soon after her separation from Jae, and immediately upon returning home after an early foray into the dating scene. After nearly eleven years, Noa could only remember the catalyst for her action was “Ron Somebody,” but she could recall the conversation as if it were yesterday. Ron spent the entire evening talking about what men could do and women could not. From solitary nighttime walks, to war, to peeing standing up, he espoused the benefits of being born male. Noa declined dessert, drove home alone, undressed and peed standing up in the shower.

Stepping out of the shower, Noa reached for a towel and wrapped her shoulder length hair in the first, followed by a quick rubdown of her body with the second. Before she slipped into her tattered, but much loved Frette robe, she glanced at her body in the mirror, not perfect at 57, but not bad for the mileage, nothing rebuilt, all original parts except for a few crowns on her teeth. Noa made a mental note to add a few more crunches and upward and downward dog to her morning routine, ease up, again, on the bread in her ongoing battle against her persistent little tummy pouch. But after four children, she felt she could stand beside Diane Keaton in her “Something’s Got to Give,” nude scene and hold her own.

Noa wrapped the robe around her and proceeded with her morning ritual. The showering, shampooing, conditioning, shaving, exfoliating, brushing, flossing and moisturizing were all done in the shower, usually two at a time—exfoliate while flossing, conditioning while brushing and moisturizing while shaving. Now she moving quickly to the kitchen to make her morning tea and steam her face while her tea steeped.

Breakfast was Noa’s favorite meal, and she could not recall skipping it in her entire life. It was sacred, shared only with those in her most intimate circle, and most frequently savored alone. A beautiful breakfast was the perfect beginning to a hoped for beautiful day.

It was still early, and Noa finished the steaming and steeping, carried her oatmeal with blueberries and cup of tea out on the deck to watch the light come into the world. Fall was in the air. In late October there was a distinctive chill in the air even in California. Noa tightened the robe around her and inhaled the steam from the hot tea. The deck was damp from the ocean air and the foghorn sounded in the distance. Noa sighed, after spending the first 35 years of her life in the Midwest; she still marveled that she was actually living across the street from the edge of the Pacific. Just as she planned when she was a young girl. Then, she thought there would be a man and children in the picture, once there was, but the children were grown and the man was long booted out of her life on bad behavior charges.

After her divorce Noa lived in several places, but the beach cottage was the first to feel like home. The rent was too high, but the location and rewards of living in the Portuguese Bend Beach Club far outweighed the extra cost. It was a funky, artsy little enclave perched on the cliffs of the Pacific, and right on the border of the largest landslide area in the United States. It was a risky location balanced by a big payoff. Exactly what Noa liked. After decades of doing the expected, and playing it safe, she was now living her life on the edge with no safety net. No salaried corporate husband with bonuses, stock options, insurance, and a gaggle of other perks.
No mother to call when things got rough. No soft place to fall.

Noa pulled a slow final breath of the heavy salt air deep into her lungs, prayed her ritualistic morning prayer, and finished her tea. After feeding Marigold, her outdoor cat, she went inside to dress for work.

Tuesdays were the only day of the week she skipped her morning walk along the bluffs and down to the edge of the water. An early sales meeting precluded a lengthy walk. Noa learned early in her real estate career to complete as many of the essential components of her day before eight o’clock as possible or they would languish on her to do list undone until she was too tired to do them.

Her lifelong habit of pleasing others and placing their needs and wants above hers was a hard one to break. But late in life she was beginning to learn to do it first for herself, and do it early in the day. Her ritual of rising at four in the morning, planning the day and completing the hour long yoga routine she practiced more on than off for the past 35 years served her well.

Her hair, highlighted with both strands of natural silver and bottle blond, dried naturally and fell in soft waves to her shoulders. Noa ran her fingers through it, and left it as it was. The makeup was almost as casual and carefree. Age required a little more plucking, trimming and even shaving, but the strong brow, enviable cheekbones and still-firm Michelle Phieffer-like jaw line reflected the raw beauty she possessed. Blessed with the gift of good genes she tended them from the inside out. For Noa, no topical application could make up for internal neglect.

“God bless Suzanne Sommers and her bioidentical hormone crusade. It works.” Noa said aloud as she prepared to administer her morning cocktail of supplements, followed by a HGH injection in her not-as-taut-as-she–would-like tummy.

Noa sometimes resented the time and expense it involved, but there was no thought of turning back to the “one size fits all” treatments of the past. Her hormones were finely tuned, her nights finally filled with peaceful sleep, and her energy level off the meter. But the most amazing thing was what the testosterone did for her libido. She felt like a sexual creature again. She felt desire,
not just for sex, but for life, and for the first time in a long time she felt like herself, the old Noa, or maybe even better.

Noa’s preference for work clothes were suits with an edge, a little something to distinguish her from the crowd, but still maintain the quiet elegance she was most comfortable with. Toss in a few pair of perfectly fitted jeans, a collection of white blouses and shirts, topped with marvelous little jackets for casual wear, sweats for workouts and weekends, a couple little black numbers, or fire engine red for night, and Noa’s wardrobe was good to go. The older she got the less she needed. Except for the accessories---especially the shoes. Shoes were her passion. And she rationalizes every purchase with the knowledge her legs continued to be one of her best features and a great shoe placed the focus right where she wanted it.

Her closet included rows of shoes, almost as many bags, but very little jewelry, and no earrings. Noa now used reading glasses, lots of them, to add interest and fashion to her face, the role earrings played in her un-bespectacled youth. It was a concession and compromise Noa wore well.

Once dressed, Noa glanced at her Franklin Planner to quickly review the day. Sales meeting, brokers open house tour, lunch with a business partner and sometimes lover, show property to divorcing client in the afternoon, and meet Lonne for discount shopping and a light low carb supper. Noa knew she would fill the gaps in the day with calls to customers, clients, family and friends. That was one of the things she liked most about real estate; it was not an isolated activity neatly compartmentalized in her life from 8 to 5. It was a thread which ran throughout her day, and sometimes well into the night, but she loved not being tethered to an office and desk. It suited her well.

Noa sipped the iced tea as she waited for him to arrive. Early arrivals were one of the rare occasions when Noa wasted time. It was a habit she wrestled with, but simple could not overcome. She could not be late. She often found herself arriving at clients’ homes far too early and would circle the block, cruise the neighborhood and in general waste time until her appointed time arrived.

She glanced at her 25-year-old Rolex, could not read the dial without her glasses, so instead checked her cell phone. Seventeen minutes to go. She sipped her beverage with slow deliberation.

“I need to work on this,” Noa uttered under her breath. She opened her planner to make a note about the perils of promptness, just as her cell phone vibrated on the tabletop. She knew without looking it was going to be him.

“I’m running late. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. No, that’s a lie, with this traffic it will be more like thirty,” he said with a resolute tone and no apologies. “Have a glass of wine and relax,” he added.

“You know I don’t drink when I’m meeting with clients, and remember, I have a 2:30 today. I have to leave at 2:00, no exceptions.”

Noa realized the line was dead before she finished saying exceptions. Jett was like that. At least he called to notify her he was on the way. There were times when she would wait with no call, no show. After years of both business and bed with this man, she knew how to cope with his unorthodox tactics, and perhaps that was the bond they shared. They got each other.

To be continued

God's Big Mistake When Designing Women

2008-05-20T07:14:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'll cut right to the chase on this one. I have no need to build to a crescendo, then drop the bomb. Women need an extra set of arms. Don't laugh. I actually thought of this when I was a child, and throughout the ensuing years the idea reoccurred in moments of need.

My childhood home had a lovely old Catalpa tree in the back yard. It was perfect for climbing, but some tricky moments presented themselves while moving from limb to limb. Another set of arms would have upped the safety factor, or a prehensile tail, but a tail would have spelled disaster for my future fashionista days. So I settled on extra arms.

Another set of arms attached at waist level, yes that would work. My eight year old mind thought it was a brilliant idea. As a multi-tasking career woman I still see its merit. Let's have a little fun and explore the possibilities.

Lord knows every mother could use an extra set of "helping hands." Well, maybe the Lord doesn't know because he was never a mother. I guess we'll have to forgive his design oversight. He got a lot of things right; most, amazingly so.

Tasks when more arms and hands would help a woman:

Driving: Two hands on the wheel, one sipping a coffee, the other programming the GPS.

Grocery shopping with children: One balancing a baby on the hip, two pushing the cart and one putting items into the cart.

Working out: I don't know about you, but I think push ups would be much easier with another set of arms supporting my body weight!

Housework: You could vacuum and dust at the same time.

Cooking and Cleaning up: Even Martha Stewart would be envious of the efficiency factor.

Laundry: Fluff, fold and finished in half the time!

Hugging: A four arm hug--imagine the love that would convey!

Women are the workhorses of the world. We do most of the housework, the office work and child rearing tasks.

Another set of hands to share the labor would help. Maybe God did not intend for women to carry so much of the burden.

Perhaps it's time to ask the other half of humanity to step up and offer a hand or two.

Cars and Catcalls

2008-05-18T10:34:00.000-07:00

Several years ago while cruising down PCH (that's Pacific Coast Highway for all my readers outside the USA) in my brand new Jaguar, I noticed the car received more attention than the driver. I received several thumbs up from fellow drivers and a few pedestrians on the street even mouthed the words, "Nice car." I couldn't help but notice all this new found attention came from men. Ahh, finally I owned a flirt-worthy car!

Then I began to ask myself the question that so many men have probably asked themselves since the beginning of the automobile age. Is it me, or is it my car?

Overnight my mode of transportation became the topic of conversation--it was my own personal Match.com. My ticket to men on the prowl. Funny, my low key Mercedes Benz never garnered that kind of attention. Do members of the opposite sex judge a woman by the wheels that transport her? Oh, yeah!

So what does a car say about its driver? I've pondered this recently; I've asked questions and here are the results. Buckle up!

It seems my Jaguar is sleek, sexy and discerning; as its owner those characteristics are hopefully passed along to me, or so the impressions go.

That reliable Mercedes apparently says successful, traditional and not too exciting. It's a long term purchase--does that translate to long term relationships too? Possibly too commitment oriented?

The SUV driver is viewed as independent, adventuresome and practical. The practical maybe not so much with the increasing price of gasoline!

That fearless woman who drives a low slung two-seater is a risk taker, an adventurer and places fun ahead of safety. Living on the edge and taking the curves of life on two wheels excites her.

The hybrid car driver is an environmentalist, or on a budget; maybe both.

That girl in a pickup is a rebel or a redneck; maybe both.

So girls, when you select a car, you're also selecting the type of man who will be attracted to you. I'll buy what I like and deal with the consequences, and I hope you will too!

The Colors of a Kiss

2008-05-15T12:33:00.000-07:00

Relax. This is not a how to post. Yesterday was a perfect Southern California day. You know, the sun shining, the ocean breeze blowing ever so softly causing the palm fronds to sway to and fro as I drove beneath them. It reminded me of a scene from a movie, but it was not part of a Hollywood set, those days really do happen. Despite a nasty cold, I rolled the windows down, opened the sunroof and let the breeze kiss my face. I savored the moment and enjoyed it fully. That was a kiss to remember!

Sometimes a kiss is mouth meeting skin, other times it is a gentle touch, a light connection that graces you with its momentary presence. Its memory lingers long after the sensation has passed.

Moments of great gratitude and passion are often sealed with a kiss. The best kisses are those that are given with nothing expected in return. The sloppy wet kiss of my departed Golden Retriever was a prime example of a kiss originating from pure joy. She bestowed them often and if you turned your face away to avoid the inevitable slobbers, she found a hand or foot to bestow it on. She expressed her love without reservations.

Occasions for kissing are fast approaching; graduation, weddings, and in my family the birth of a new baby is imminent. Sometimes words and gifts simply are not adequate to express the feelings welling up inside when we are in the midst of a big life moment. Leaning in and planting a kiss releases love from the heart.

Don't forget to enjoy some kisses from Mother Nature once in awhile too. A walk in the woods caresses the feet and kisses the soul. A visit to the beach observing and hearing the rhythmic sounds of ocean waves may help you become more aware of your natural rhythms too.

A kiss does not always begin on the mouth or cheek. Music, art, good food and fine wine are kiss-worthy too. These activities please the eye, resonant in the ear and satisfy the palate. They kiss you deep within your core.

There's more than one way to be kissed.

And none of them have to be perfect, but all should be enjoyed.

How To Be a Woman

2008-05-11T10:19:00.000-07:00

In response to Steve Pavlina's challenge

Lay a strong foundation. It is difficult to stand strong if your foundation is weak. Set a high standard and live up to it, even in the difficult moments. Temptations abound. Shortcuts beckon. A base of honesty, loyalty, integrity and compassion will support and serve you well. Make a list of the characteristics you would like your best friend to possess. Be that friend to yourself and others. When tough times come, and come they will, your core values may be all you have to see you through a life storm.

Choose with care. Your choices build the ladder of your life. One of my college friends had a summer fling with the poster boy for poor marriage material. She was an incredibly bright math major, and he a high school dropout posing as a wannabe rock star. She was momentarily blinded by his attention and professed overpowering love. At summer’s end she was pregnant and living in a trailer while his band was on the road.
Her life’s path took an unexpected twist that delivered her two children before she was twenty, working dead-end jobs to support her family and his habits, then life as a single mom. An impulsive choice claimed a decade of recovery time.

Honor childhood dreams. What did you dream of doing before the world imposed a list of shoulds on your life? Being a grownup woman does not mean you must give up your dreams, but all too often, women get caught up in the lives of husbands and children and forget about their goals. That is a sure road to discontentment and life long regrets. Don't disconnect from your heart's desires.

Pursue your passions. Marriage and motherhood place many demands on women. Throw in a career, a home to manage, and a host of other aspects of daily life, and it is easy to caught up in making sure everything runs smoothly. Do something outwardly selfish, but oh-so-inwardly satisfying every once in awhile. It will put a girlish bounce in your step and a twinkle in your eyes. Your relationships will benefit from your higher level of happiness.

Trust your intuition. If you suspect your teen is smoking pot, he probably is. Women are gifted with an inner sense of guidance. Don’t ignore it. This is a cardinal rule of womanhood. It is not “just in your head,” it is your heart and brain teaming up to send a message to your gut, your center, the very core of who you are. If you’re religious consider it God speaking to you. If you’re not, consider it Mother Nature advising you to take action.

Know your boundaries. Some things are simply unacceptable. Before I married I told my husband-to-be there were only two reasons I would leave him. One, if he was physically abusive, and two, if he was unfaithful. There would be no second chance on either count. I kept my word.

Revere your creations. A nourishing meal for family or friends is a giving act of love. A newborn baby is a collaboration with God, the Universe and you. A painting, a garden, a child at play and a job well done are all reasons to celebrate your creative side.

Bestow praise. Acknowledge the good in others. Give a compliment or pass one on. Look into the eyes of a child or loved one and praise their effort. Nurture the positive and it will multiple.

Expect miracles. Sometimes as I watch the early morning light come into the world I marvel at the daily miracles we are privileged to experience. The beauty of a sunrise or sunset, the sound of your child’s laughter, the outstretched hand of a loved one are miracles to be savored.

Survive heartaches. The loss of a love, the death of a loved one and children leaving home, are reminders of our temporary status in this world. Honor the cracks in your heart; no one survives life without a few scars from living it. Heal them with treasured memories and move on to the next chapter knowing you are living your life with energy, purpose and love.

Celebrate your life. Do this every day, and while you’re at it, celebrate the lives of those you love. Make life better for each person you encounter by giving what you can, doing what you can, and at the end of the day you can close your eyes knowing you called forth the best of yourself. If you’re lucky, tomorrow you’ll get to do it again.

The Purpose of Old Age

2008-05-10T17:45:00.000-07:00

I've always seen beauty in babies and the elderly, but I must admit I always wondered about the purpose of aging. In a perfect world ( it's appropriate to laugh here, as we know the world was never meant to be perfect) we would reach the age of maturity, say 50 or so, and maintain our stamina, health and mental acuity until death crept in and stole us away in the middle of a peaceful night's sleep. Be gone all that pain and suffering, that decline of energy and memory. Ahh, but that's not the master plan.

I've watched it happen to those I love; it's painful from an observation point, but I think it's more comfortable once you're inside the skin it is happening to. I speak from experience; the accumulation of candles on the birthday cake, allows the spirit and soul to soar, while slowing the body down. It is impossible for both of them to rush full steam ahead. The exterior is not replacing cells as fast, but the internal growth spurt is immense. The spirit hormones are surging and it's an important part of the human experience.

This fourth phase of life is not about washboard abs and bulging biceps. It's about inner peace and wisdom. How enlightening that is! Trust me, I've done enough crunches and aerobic classes for one lifetime, I'm happily skipping along into this phase of contemplative soul stretching. The focus moves from family to humanity. We begin to look at the world through a wide angle lens.

There's a significant shift in the soul. Health supersedes weight. Need replaces want. Comfort trumps style--goodbye high heels! Possessions mean less and legacy means more. Completion moves to the forefront and career plays itself out. It's not what we do, but who we are and what we care about that leaves a mark on this world.

Aging is not something to fear. Just as the child must go through the tumultuous teens years before reaching adulthood, we must leave the long comfortable years of middle age and greet the coming years with great expectations.

This road trip isn't over yet.

Pack light and travel well.

Decluttering Your Space, Soul and Mind

2008-05-01T14:45:00.000-07:00

Paperwork piles up in my line of business. I save every piece of paper related to the transaction and document my documentation! Clothes remain in my closet on the chance I may wear them again someday. Really, that strappy little number I worn on New Year's Eve in 1994 was classy and a head turner, but it's been collecting dust for fourteen years and I've never worn it again--time to let it go! My mind is a pretty busy place too! It's time for some decluttering of the home, body and soul. So let's get the clean up party started.

The last time I cleaned out my garage I applied the three pile rule: One for trash, one for charity and one to keep. It works. The garage is the easy area for me; it's the holding pen for things I'm almost ready to bid farewell.

I know I function better in a clutter free environment at home and at work. So in the name of efficiency, I'm in the process of applying the three pile rule to office files and home drawers. It's amazing how much I keep and never refer to or use again. I'm beginning to feel an incredible lightness of being as I claim more than my fair share of the dumpster at work, and bag items for charity at home.

The mind and soul are a bit trickier when it comes to lightening the load. When one of my sons was in high school he had the following phrases taped to his bathroom mirror: Don't Get Behind, Sleep Fast, Play Hard. Procrastination causes stress, and troubles the mind. When we fall behind we increase our stress as we battle guilt and an increased workload.

I might change his Sleep Fast to Sleep Well, because rest is important whether it is done fast or long and slow! The body repairs itself during sleep and sleep deprivation decreases productivity. I know I'm running on empty when dawn arrives and I think, Oh no, it's already morning, instead of, Oh great it's morning!

I equate the Play Hard with time management and focus. Be present for what you are doing and do it well. There is a soul satisfying sense of accomplishment when a task is completed and you can stand back and say, "This I did to the best of my ability." There is little satisfaction in rushing through a project and delivering a product that reflects poorly on you and your abilities.

Letting go can be difficult, it can also be cleansing and freeing.

Simple is the new beautiful.

Flirting with Change

2008-04-20T18:59:00.000-07:00

"If nothing ever changed there'd be no butterflies." Author Unknown

Sometimes changes are difficult, other times they occur with little fanfare and sometimes they are marked by great celebrations. Most life tremors fall somewhere in between.

It seems the uncertainty in the global economy is rippling through most households in one form or another. To reduce the turbulence of whatever change you're going through try implementing a few of these suggestions to ease the disruption of an inevitable change, even if it's a positive one.

1. Start small. For instance, if you're trying to save money break it into categories. Start with one category such as food, and list all the ways you can trim the category.

2. Be creative. A trip to a farmer's market can be fun and easy on the wallet. The colorful array of seasonal fruits and vegetables are worth the trip. Remember, you're eliminating the fat from your budget, not the fun from your life.

3. Be realistic. If you're currently eating out several times each week for dinner and every day for lunch, trim dining out to once a week, and pack your lunch three times a week. You'll save a bundle, but still enjoy lunch with clients or coworkers, and an evening out with friends or family is time and money well spent. This will allow you to embrace the change rather than be imprisoned by it.

4. Master a new art. Take a class in preparing your favorite cuisine. You won't miss those expensive restaurant meals when you're confident in your ability to prepare delicious ones at home, and you'll enjoy showing off your new skills. Your self esteem will grow and so will your savings account.

5. Give yourself time to adapt. Even positive changes may cause a little pain. You're remolding your attitude and behavior and there are bound to be moments of resistance and temptations. Forgive yourself for the slip up, and get back on track.

6. Build in some wiggle room. An impromptu invitation to join friends for a Friday night get together may not be in the budget, but go anyway. Realign the budget by packing your lunch an extra day and exhibiting some creative wizardry in the kitchen with a clean out the crisper soup, or come up with another solution that re-establishes the balance and still lets you enjoy your life.

7. Outsmart the issues. Whether it's finances or relationships, job loss or an impossible boss, you can overcome the obstacle by analyzing the choices you have, and you do have choices. That should make you feel better about the situation. Have a plan, but stay fluid. Be ready to answer the door when opportunity knocks.

8. Make a list of your wins and lose the list of your losses. Keep your focus on the positive and revel in those successes.

9. Stay in the game. Have some fun with the changes you're making. Doubting your ability to do it is setting yourself up to fail. Build in some rewards along the new path your pursuing, after all, you're playing the big game of life.

10. You have the power. Life is really just a series of changes. Each stage has a beginning and an end. Change is certain, and embracing the adventure with open arms is empowering and life affirming.

Changes are an opportunity to reinvent yourself, your life and the way you choose to live it.

Go ahead, and flirt with change, it may reveal a whole other side of you. Life should be about discovering your gifts, and that upcoming change may unveil more of the masterpiece within.

After all, a butterfly was once a worm and without change it would have remained one.

The Cleavage Question

2008-04-19T06:41:00.000-07:00

Sigh. When I opened the door to the bank and saw the serpentine line I knew I was in for a long wait. Obligingly, I lined up with the rest of the customers. With nothing else to do but people peer for the next ten minutes, I watched. You can learn much as a passive observer of mankind.

First, I noticed the diverse age and ethnic makeup of this mixed bag of waiting clientele. Three languages were being spoken within earshot of my place in line. Next, I noticed skin, and there was lots of it exposed, lots of it. Which brings me to the question of when did it become acceptable to let it all hang out at 10 AM on Saturday morning?

Directly in front of me stood a young mother with toddler on hip and a double handful of breast tissue bursting forth from the deep v of her chic top. OK, OK. She was twenty something, pretty and firm, but still with breakfast barely over, the chiffon fabric and deep decolletage was oddly out of synchronicity with the time and place. I chalked the inappropriateness up to youth and moved my eyes along the line.

There comes a time when we must release our youth to the universe and embrace gravity as a natural force who works in mysterious ways. Even as it pulls us down, we can't let it get us down. And let me tell you a woman near the front of the line was working it. The low rise jeans exposed an inner tube of flesh that encircled her center like a glazed doughnut. The spaghetti strap stretch t-shirt offered minimal coverage and even less support. I felt oddly embarrassed by her; probably because she was close to my age and I've had more than one debate with myself whether a particular garment is age appropriate. My conclusion is, if I'm wondering about it, it's probably time to give it to Goodwill.

Men have it so much easier; they feel no pressure to look sexy for early banking duties. There was overnight stubble, uncombed hair and rumpled t-shirts, and my very sensitive nose indicated most were wearing overnight body cologne. Somehow, their appearance was much more acceptable to me. I guess low expectation reduces disappointment.

My final tirade will be cast on the teller. Good heavens, did she forget where she works? Again, it was those surgically enhanced twin peaks making an early morning appearance. Dress code? Obviously not, and I do mean obviously! She was a gorgeous girl, but looked like a Vegas casino dealer sitting behind the security glass of a conservative bank. A smile began to break as I wondered whether I was making a deposit or placing a bet. I bit my bottom lip, diverted my eyes and told myself to just walk away.

As I walked to my car I met a couple on their way to the bank. Their hair was white and clean. Their clothes fit well and did not expose too much. From what I quickly saw, most of the buttons were buttoned! I wondered if they would feel oddly out of place when they took their place in line.

I'm a tad uncomfortable mixing decolletage and deposits, cleavage and checks, and breasts and banking. Our clothes make a silent statement. What are these women saying?

There really are some things that should stay in Vegas.

Polygamy and Prostitution

2008-04-11T14:20:00.000-07:00

I watched Diane Sawyer's special on prostitution in America, and a few days later the news broke regarding abuse of children and women at a ranch in Texas by polygamists. I began to wonder about the old Virginia Slims commercial touting, you've come a long way, baby! Have we really, or is it the same thing, different century?

What I learned:

Prostitution is alive and thriving in America. Some of it is legal, most of it is not. Many of the girls are still teenagers.

Prostitutes are arrested much more frequently than the "Johns" who frequent them. Whatever happened to equal rights? If one is guilty, isn't the other one guilty too?

It seems the police are hesitant to round up the list of Johns because they might recognize some of the names on the list, or perhaps even see their own name in the little black book--fetishes included and exposed for the world to see. We don't need a very long memory to recall the latest instance of footsies in the bathroom stall or $4000 escort fees. Yikes, how embarrassing for the power player, his supporters and his family.

As for the polygamists and spiritual marriage of pubescent girls, there is only one place for them; in a cozy little cell with a big lock. My only question is, what took so long to discover their crimes? Was it more comfortable to turn your head and not rock the boat? After all, it was just women and girls.

I salute the pregnant teenager who had the guts to make the call for help. And, as I understand it, she had to make more than one. She did not give up, and thanks to her, bus loads of women, children and pregnant teens have been freed.

It's never pretty to look at the ugly side of life.

Self Improvement for Seniors

2008-04-02T07:22:00.000-07:00

Gosh, it's hard for me to believe I'm actually one of them. Excuse me, I mean one of us. A senior citizen, me?

I remember the first time a breezy young server asked whether my breakfast order would be the regular or the senior. Momentarily startled by what I thought I heard, I asked him to repeat the question. I needed some time to let this soak in. Yep, I heard right, and he even prefaced the repeat with an increase in volume. I'm glad I was already sitting down.

I went with the senior (only difference was one egg instead of two, and two strips of bacon instead of four). At least it wasn't pureed prunes. I ate my first senior meal with mixed emotions. Saving money, that's good. Eating less, good also. Getting old, hmmm, not so good, or is it?

People are living longer, but longer is not necessarily better. Medicine can only do so much to improve the quality of these Fourth Stage years. The ultimate quality will be determined by the recipients. I've given this a great deal of thought, and I've embarked on a self improvement plan for my Fourth Stage of Life. If you're there too, come along for the ride.

Eliminate Negative Words: In high school being a senior was cool. In this phase of life it's constraining and a tiny bit depressing. It has a negative impact on my self esteem, not to mention the job it can do on your state of mind. Gone from my vocabulary are senior citizen, golden years, retired and a host of others profiling words that are an uncomfortable fit. I'd prefer to order from the "Eating Light" menu rather than the "Seniors Only" menu.

Move More: Exercise is the crucial to maintaining a healthy body and mind. It keeps your bones strong and your mind clear. For more detail refer to my previous post at http://noarose.blogspot.com/2008/03/eradicate-brain-plaque-get-out-and-play.html.

Exercise is not optional, it is essential. Do some every day for the rest of your life. It doesn't have to be a marathon, a mile a day will create miraculous changes in your overall well being.

Eat for Energy: Fuel your body with live food, natural food and skip the junk food 99% of the time. You'll be amazed what eating a banana instead of a cookie will do for your energy level.
Ease up on the caffeine. Make water your drink of choice.

Get Creative: Paint a picture, write a story, take a photograph, study a foreign language. Create some new pathways in your brain. Stretch yourself!

Meaningful Work: Share a job, start a small business, work part-time for a worthy cause. Purpose plays a lifelong role in giving meaning to our daily existence. Discover what makes you jump out of bed each morning and put your heart into it! Cut back, but keep contributing.

Fun, Fun, Fun: Play a little each day. Laugh a lot.

Toss the Stilettos, Keep the Style: It doesn't matter what decade she's in, a girl wants to look good, but those mile-high heels have got to go. I don't know about you, but if my feet are killing me, my attitude heads south. These days I'm wearing flats on my feet and a smile on my face.

You're grown up now, what do you want to be?

Be it!

Children Without Boundaries

2008-04-01T18:41:00.000-07:00

It was headline news today. Several 8-10 year old third graders hatched a plot to kill their teacher.

School officials alerted police Friday after a pupil tipped off a teacher that a girl had brought a weapon to school. Tanner said the students apparently planned to knock the teacher unconscious with a crystal paperweight, bind her with the handcuffs and tape and then stab her with the knife.

Scary stuff and we should be alarmed. These are not teenage gang members, these are third graders with television serving as their babysitter and no moral compass to lead them. Are today's parents too busy with bills, jobs and the stresses of everyday life to parent their children?

The labor of child rearing begins the contractions of childbirth and lasts for at least 18 years. It's a daily thing and sometimes it is not fun. It's work, and lots of it. It takes cash, patience and lots of talking and sharing.

Parents, even with the help of teachers, sitters, pastors, sports, a host of after school activities, television and videos, the brunt of the load falls on your shoulders. The age of eight is the age of responsibility, and by the time a child reaches that age they should know a few things these kids obviously missed out on. Such as right from wrong for starters.

Call it values, morals, ethics, life skills or the Golden Rule. These teachings must be passed from parent to child; our civilization is based on it. Someone is not doing their job. A child is not born knowing it is wrong to lie. A child is not born wanting to kill. These are learned behaviors. Your children are watching and listening to your actions and your words.

Pay attention.

Pass on something of value to your child. A strong inner compass to guide them. A core knowledge of right from wrong. It's a wee bit late to have a sit down discussion after the crime is committed. That discussion should have happened in bits and pieces throughout those precious childhood years.

Effective parenting cannot be left to chance.

Happiness, Molly and Me

2008-03-31T17:32:00.000-07:00

Happiness is a hot topic. There are countless articles on how to find it, how to keep and how to recognize it. You can hire a coach to whip you into happiness mode. You can take a test to determine if you are happy. Yes, you may be happy and not even know it!

For me, happiness comes and goes. What I strive for is contentment. I think of happiness as the Tinker Bell of emotions. It shows up, shines its light, rings its bell to announce its arrival, then poof! It's gone.

Contentment, on the other hand, reminds me of Molly, our sweet tempered and loyal Golden Retriever. For years she greeted me morning and evening with her tail wagging. She could barely contain her desire to let out a yelp of delight at my homecoming. She was consistent and dependable. Sure, a trip to the park made her happy, but she was content to while away the day in the back yard, take a dip in the pool, or spend hours fetching tennis balls. She took great pleasure in the simple everyday moments of life.

I'm not knocking happiness. It's a great thing, and I say wallow in those happy moments. Laugh, take pictures, sing and dance because happiness is a fickle fellow, and the spotlight moment will soon belong to someone else.

It's okay, contentment is easier to live with. She's less demanding and very low maintenance. Just open your eyes and smile at what you have and where you are in life. Give her an occasional pat on the head and she'll be content to stay awhile.

Contentment is the cake of life--sweet and delicious. Happiness is the frosting on the cake.

A little goes a long way.

The Power of Quotes

2008-03-30T04:22:00.000-07:00

Quotes are life lessons acquired by going through the event, and summed up by a few well chosen words. They have the power to transform lives.

Some are attributed to the very wise and undocumented inhabitant(s) known only as Anonymous. Others have a person of fame or fortune attached to their relevance. Words outlive the speaker, and are often re-spoken and applied to life situations centuries after the words were first uttered.

Some of my favorite take away lessons from quotes:

On Action:

I have always thought the actions of men the best interpreters of their thoughts. ~John Locke

Talk doesn't cook rice. ~Chinese Proverb

On Age:

Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. ~Samuel Ullman

How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were? ~Satchel Paige

On Gratitude:

Gratitude is the memory of the heart. ~Jean Baptiste Massieu, translated from French

For each new morning with its light, For rest and shelter of the night, For health and food, for love and friends, For everything Thy goodness sends.~Ralph Waldo Emerson

On Purpose:

Men, like nails, lose their usefulness when they lose direction and begin to bend. ~Walter Savage Landor

On Hope:

Hope is patience with the lamp lit. ~Tertullian

On Happiness:

If you want to be happy, be. ~Leo Tolstoy

On Yoga:

Yoga is bodily gospel. ~Reaven Fields

On Love:

A baby is born with a need to be loved - and never outgrows it. ~Frank A. Clark

The hardest-learned lesson: that people have only their kind of love to give, not our kind. ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Neurotic's Notebook, 1960

Quotes offer us hope and history. They reminds us many others have walked before us, and with words left behind, they continue to offer guidance, example and lamps of light for the paths we have yet to walk.

Leaving Life

2008-03-28T07:40:00.000-07:00

There is an interesting post on dying at http://www.erinpavlina.com/blog/2006/05/what-happens-when-you-die/. After several decades on earth I've had some personal experiences with death. I'm no expert, just an observer.

When I was nine or ten years old a neighbor's baby died of pneumonia. A few years later, a cousin's baby died of SIDS. I thought God must be vengeful and a mean old man to take those much loved babies from their families. He wasn't looking so omnipotent and omniscient from my point of view.

I understood the cycle of life and accepted that it inevitably must end. My great grandmother was wheelchair bound and died in her mid-nineties. By the time I was in my early twenties all my grandparents has passed on late in life, as it should be.

I was cruising along in life passing the life markers of college graduation, marriage and impending motherhood, when death unexpectedly reared his unwelcome head in the prime of my best friend's life. Married, and the mother of a three year old, she lost her battle with breast cancer that metastasized before it was discovered.

The day she died she paid me one last visit--in spirit form. Okay, I know what you're thinking, as one of my sons was fond of saying, "Mom, you're not psychic, you're psycho." At the time of her death we lived about three hours apart, and she had battled the disease for three years. I had not heard from her for a few weeks, but she was doing well and planning a trip to San Francisco, her favorite city.

The energy flash came completely unexpected as I stood washing dishes at my kitchen sink. Suddenly, there was a powerful presence, a light ball that vanished as a streak (think lightening bolt) as quickly as it appeared. I knew it was a "death spirit" and someone dear to me was paying a final visit (based on an earlier experience). I misread it and believed it was my mother. I grabbed the phone and dialed her number with great trepidation. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears as I waited. On the third ring she answered, and I finally exhaled.

I laughed and told her the story. Her response was comforting, but did not quell my fear. She told me to wait and the call would come. She had her own set of intuitions and other world abilities. A few hours later, my friend's husband called and said my friend died peacefully at home that morning. She passed while I was washing dishes.

Thanks for the gift of your visit before you moved on.

I Want My Money Back

2008-03-25T13:58:00.000-07:00

The competition in my line of work is fierce, and we're suckers for any promise of raising us up and away from the crowd. My email account is always overflowing with new ways someone wants to spend my money.

I've tried more than a few, and at the end of day my gut response was always I want my money back. My latest expensive experiment was paying a lead generation company a monthly fee. During the 12 month contract, I had one lead call. I suspect it was "staged" as the day before I called the company and complained I would rather be sending the monthly fee to feed starving children in third world countries. I want my money back.

When times are tough, con men and hucksters are out in force. Lottery sales go up and Vegas continues to boom. Is it because we no longer want to work and wipe sweat from our brow for a buck or two? In California, the person who wants a border fence is often the same person who has an illegal gardener and cleaning lady. They want it both ways and without the dirty fingernails.

We want cheap products from China, but we don't want our job outsourced to India and Asia. Life does not let you have it both ways for very long. Soon, you're stuck in the middle of a mess of your own making.

Many years ago I signed up for a cruise to the Caribbean that was too good to be true. The experience made a believer out of me--you get what you pay for. The bathroom was so tiny when you showered the water sprayed the toilet and the cup-sized vessel they called a sink. The porthole window was near the ceiling making the room feel more like a cell than a room. The cruise was overbooked and many passengers became ill. I could not wait to get back to Miami. I want my money back.

Other life events when I should have asked for my money back:

The lopsided wedding cake that highly resembled The Leaning Tower of Pisa. One column collapsed and twenty-three years later so did the marriage. I want my money back.

All the mammograms I've subjected my body to--no one should have to pay for that kind of pain! I want my money back.

The chest exerciser I purchased as a 98 pound fifteen year old. I didn't have an ounce of fat on my 5' 7" frame and I thought that magical little pink plastic object outfitted with two springs was going to turn me into a curvy hottie. I want my money back.

All the ghastly hair perms I ever had during the big hair days of the 1980s. I want my money back. And all the photos destroyed!

Life does not allow many do-overs.

What we must do instead is learn and move on.

Berries, and Other Luscious Indulgences

2008-03-24T17:28:00.000-07:00

I usually meet the daily five fruits and vegetable requirement before I leave home in the morning. I wake up craving fruit, I toss veggies in my scrambled eggs and I'm addicted to Monavie, that powerful, berry filled juice that floods my body with antioxidants.

I'm passionate about berries, and I indulge myself whenever possible. They are the super fruits! It's impossible for me to pass the delicate blueberries without putting a small container in my cart. Last week while making my weekly trek to the market, I questioned whether those succulent little berries could possibly be worth $4.00! My guestimation was a nickel a piece. I bought them anyway.

I'm not good at dieting because of all the denial involved, and the guilt if you don't adhere to the allowed foods. I do believe in making better choices about the food I place in my mouth to fuel my body. Less is more.

Give me less processed food and more fruits and veggies. I haven't given up bread, pasta and fatty food, but I certainly eat less of them. When presented with a choice I opt for the healthier one, and for me, that's the difference of controlling what I eat rather than abiding by a list of do eat this and don't eat that. I don't know about you, but when I'm told not to eat ice cream, the little rebel in me comes out and I begin craving ice cream.

Another game I play with my appetite is I choose the lesser evil. If I'm eating out I usually order the special of the day. I pick the healthier entree of my two favorites or I split the entree with my dining partner and order extra veggies. It's my guilt free way of partaking of the pleasures of food. It satisfies my physical desire without damaging my self esteem. The pleasure of the meal evaporates when I walk out of a restaurant thinking, "I shouldn't have done that."

Food is not our enemy, making the wrong choices day after day is.

I'm working at being wiser.

8 Ways to Turn Your Life Around

2008-03-23T18:05:00.000-07:00

It takes courage to leave the familiar behind and venture forth into the unknown. However, when a routine begins to feel like a rut, you've got to turn your life around, or resign yourself to living out your days dissatisfied with your life.

I remember leaving home after college graduation. My new job was four hours away. I knew no one in the city. I had a few hundred dollars, a healthy dose of fear and a lot of hope. Looking back, I now know I also possessed a lot of courage. When you're afraid of the next step, take it anyway. That's my definition of courage.

That's the first rule of my 8 Ways to Turn Your Life Around, and it bears repeating:

1. When you're afraid of the next step, take it anyway. Change involves risk, but it is the only way to move your life forward.

Growth is the only evidence of life. ~John Henry Newman

2. Know what and why you want to change. Why do you want to move or change careers?

Life is its own journey, presupposes its own change and movement, and one tries to arrest them at one's eternal peril. ~Laurens van der Post

3. Do your homework. What are the pros and cons?

Begin challenging your own assumptions. Your assumptions are your windows on the world. Scrub them off every once in awhile, or the light won't come in. ~Alan Alda

4. Find a mentor. If you want to become a chocolatier or a photographer talk to someone who has your dream job. Observe, read and familiarize yourself with your new heart's desire.

The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery. ~Mark Van Doren

5. Let passion play its part. What drives you? What do you look forward to? What makes your heart sing?

Chase down your passion like it's the last bus of the night. ~Glade Byron Addams

6. Confirm it with your gut. Intuition is under rated. Let it speak to you and listen.

Trust your hunches. They're usually based on facts filed away just below the conscious level. ~Joyce Brothers

7. Commit fully to the change. Getting married with the backup plan of getting a divorce if it doesn't workout makes it easier to accept failure.

Go for it now. The future is promised to no one. ~Wayne Dyer

8. Burn the bridge back. Burn the little black book from your single days. Let your mother turn your old bedroom into her new meditation room. Turning back is not an option.

Unless commitment is made, there are only promises and hopes; but no plans. ~Peter F. Drucker

Cross over the bridge.

Discovering the Gifts of Your Child

2008-03-22T06:22:00.000-07:00

Standardized tests determine whether a child falls within the required criteria to qualify for the gifted and talented programs offered by most school systems. The requirements are rigid and high; only a few students meet the guidelines.

Many parents covet a place in the gifted genre for their child, and are upset and disappointed when their offspring does not receive induction into the GATE (gifted and talented education) program. It's not easy being a pushy parent's kid.

The true work of a parent is discovering the gifts of your child. This discovery process is a miracle unfolding before your eyes, and begins in the early childhood years. It is a divine daily journey embarked upon with the birth of the unique bundle of joy sent to you.

7 Ways to Discover the Gifts of Your Child:

1. Read to Your Child. Four to six months is the perfect age to introduce board books and story time to your baby. Enjoy this time, laugh, sing nursery rhymes and cuddle the child while you share the experience. The baby may not understand the words, but he will associate this time with fun, happiness and joy. Pass on a love of books and learning to your child.

2. Gift Your Child with Books. Birthdays, holidays and summer vacation are all occasions to add to your child's library of learning. Expand their universe by selecting topics they have expressed an interest in. If a child asks you about the stars, give him a book on constellations. If a child tags along each time you water your garden, purchase a book on plants and gardening. If a child is interested in sports give him the biographies of great sport's legends. Reading and comprehension are important, but interest will drive the desire to learn.

3. Explore the Arts. Music is a universal language and every child should have the opportunity to learn the basics. Your child may not be the next Mozart, but then again unless she is given the opportunity it may remain an undiscovered gift. Ditto for photography, painting and arts and crafts. Offer your child the experience, exposure and encouragement to explore new things.

4. Get Physical. Sports and physical activity builds strong bodies as well as character and social skills. Your child will need both to succeed in the world. She may not be a professional tennis player and he may not play pro ball, but they will build self confidence and a set of transferable social skills. Being part of a team and winning or losing with equal grace are important life lessons.

5. Involve Your Children in Planning Family Vacations and Day Trips. You'll discover their interests and will be able to encourage the pursuit of their passion of the moment. One of my sons always picked up rocks and stones when we traveled. They remained in a treasure box until he received a rock polisher and book on rocks and gems. Being a valued member of the family will increase self esteem.

6. Let the Child Choose. Soccer or baseball, let the child choose. Violin or flute, let the child choose. Science fiction or biography, let the child choose. Decision making is critical to success. Children need the freedom to make their own choices beginning with an either or smorgasbord.

7. Allow Free Time. Over scheduled children may be the next childhood crisis. Allow time for thinking, dreaming, and yes, even being bored. Creativity often emerges when the mind and body appear to be in a non-productive state.

A gifted parent may be the best present a child can receive.

A test score cannot compare to a parent who is there.

Happiness in a Jar

2008-03-21T18:24:00.000-07:00

Happiness is a mercurial force. Just when it appears within grasp, it moves and morphs into another realm. The pursuit of happiness is a lifelong liquid quest. For if we found and captured it, we would stop seeking, and in turn our growth and joy would be stifled.

As a child happiness was chasing fireflies on a warm summer night. It brought me a magical happiness to watch the insects flashing their lights inside a glass jar. It was snow days, new shoes, sledding, swimming and playing with siblings and friends.

As a teenager happiness was having a boy like me back. It was overnights with my best friends, my room, poetry, rock n roll, the Beatles, dancing and dates.

As a young career woman happiness was having my own apartment and money. Independence allowed me the freedom to set my own social schedule and the power of managing my own bank account. Yes, those were the days!

As a mother happiness was seeing my children blossom and grow. Tucking a baby in a night, waiting up for a teenager's return, graduations and grandchildren. No work is more worthy of our best efforts than raising the next generation to inherit the earth. There's a lasting happiness in having done that job well.

As an independent single woman with grown children happiness is freedom to travel, to indulge in postponed passions and pursue unfulfilled dreams and goals. It's looking back on your life's body of work and saying, of this I am proud, for this I am grateful, and with this I am happy.

Happiness comes and goes, it changes as we change, but it is worth the continual pursuit.

Eradicate Brain Plaque, Go Out and Play

2008-03-20T17:45:00.000-07:00

One out of eight Baby Boomers will suffer the devastation of Alzheimer's Disease or dementia. Whoa, those are some pretty staggering numbers. It's true, it passed the rodent test. Rats that were not allowed to exercise grew fat and senile sooner than those sexy little exercising rats who ran circles around their bloated brothers.

Not exactly the golden years I'm looking forward to, but with more of us living longer, more will suffer the scourge of memory loss, confusion and a host of other afflictions associated with the incurable disease.

I'm a wee bit concerned as I found my favorite bracelet in my belt drawer. It was missing for days, then suddenly while selecting a belt, I noticed a shiny crystal beneath the layers of leather. Yikes, I live alone so there is no one to blame but me. As if that wasn't enough, the very next evening I read the 1 out of 8 statistics. I'm hoping it was one of those multi-tasking overloads--you know, chatting on the cell phone while dinner is warming in the microwave and I'm changing into sweats and hanging up my work clothes. Mindfulness is taking on a whole new meaning.

Okay, there's hope even if there is no cure. It is exercise. It's hard work, but all that huffing and puffing pushes more blood through the brain and washes away the plaque positioning itself to erase your life memories--all of them.

That's a simplified explanation, but suffice it to say a little sweat three or four times a week for at least 35 to 45 minutes will stall the brain plaque, increase energy, control weight, promote regularity and help you sleep better. Our younger selves called this playing. Do more of it.

That's the power of exercise. Sounds almost magical and it's a whole lot cheaper than round the clock nursing care. People would pay big bucks if it could be packaged in a pill.

But alas, you must get off your a$$.

In the Red and Going Green

2008-03-18T06:39:00.000-07:00

I watched the national news last night, and the stories were less than uplifting. The U.S. housing market is sinking to the lowest level since the depression. That news is depressing in itself, especially if you make your living in the industry, or are trying to sell your home. Mix in the credit and financial implosions on Wall Street, and a healthy dose of job losses. Throw down a $50.00 bill to fill the tank, $300.00 for food for a few days, and your bank account may be shrinking faster than the dollar bill's value in the world money market.

Interested in saving the world and your bank account? Let's tackle food first. It's something we need everyday, there's no going cold turkey and quitting. We simply must be wiser about what we spend and what we eat. It's possible to go green at the grocery without going in the red. Whether you are single or a family of seven, incorporating a suggestion or two will green up your pantry and your piggy bank.

Buy staples in bulk: A large bag of rice, beans, toilet tissue, paper towels, laundry detergent etc. will last for months. Shopping at a large discounter such as Costco or Sam's will increase the savings. If your family is small, make the trip with a friend, leave one car at home, and divvy up the goods and the savings. Green Savings: Less packaging, fewer trips and ride sharing are all good for the earth.

Eat for Nourishment: The purpose of food is to nourish our bodies. Make sure the foods you place in your cart are meeting that goal. Processed foods are in general more expensive and less nourishing. Avoid the cookies, and grab the bananas and apples. Green Savings: Eat closer to the earth for a healthier and greener table. Refining and processing food adds to labor and transportation costs, not to mention damaging the air quality with the manufacturing process.

Farmer's Market and Seasonal Foods: Ka-ching, Ka-ching! Visit the local farmer's market or roadside produce stand and stock up on local seasonal produce. Check the weekly specials at your neighborhood market and ring up additional savings. Green Savings: Buying local and eating seasonal foods saves on transportation cost from shipping to trucking it to the local market. Carry your own cloth bags and forego the plastic bags--it takes a lot of oil to make those bags and they live forever in our landfills.

Waste Not, Want Not: This could be my mother speaking! She married during the Great Depression and knew how to extend a meal and stretch a dollar. Get creative. Make soup from leftovers. Concoct a clean-out-the-crisper-bin salad. Make your own salad dressing. My favorite is red wine vinegar drizzled over a chopped veggie salad--delicious, no fat and cheap! Green Savings: Frequent trips to the market result in impulse purchases and wear and tear on your car and time, not to mention depleting your bank account and gas tank.

Eat Less Meat: Animal parts are expensive! Bring back casseroles, pasta based meat dishes, meatless pizza and other delicious dishes that use meat for seasoning but rice, beans, pasta or potatoes as the main ingredient. Green Savings: It takes weeks, months and even years befor some animals are ready to go to the graveyard of your belly. Gallons of water, bushels of grain, grass and untold labor and energy are required to get those burgers to McDonald's. Load those tacos and burgers up with veggies; the more the merrier and the less meat you will eat.

Eat In, Not Out: Cooking can be fun! Make it a family affair with children as well as adults sharing the opportunity to prepare meals together. It's a great way to catch up on each other's day. Green Savings: Mindful eating will soon become a part of the day everyone enjoys. Chances are you'll feel better too.

Need some fresh recipes? Ideas for menu planning? Check out this site:http://www.thenourishinggourmet.com/

You'll gain more than nutrition and a budget in the black when you spend time with the people you love.

Smart Women, Scared Men

2008-03-15T06:54:00.000-07:00

"People need someone to hate." Those were the words spoken by a college classmate during the turbulent times immediately after Martin Luther King's assassination. Her words were spoken matter-of-factly but they carried a forceful message. At the time, we debated the truth of her premise, but time, observation and history have proven her right. Hate is alive and well in 2008.

The hatemongers are currently busy directing their pent up wrath at Hillary Clinton. They've painted a "B" on her forehead, because that is the only way they can deal with a woman who is smart, capable and trying to throw off two hundred years of men at the helm in American politics. Just as Martin Luther King's nonviolent message of equality for all shook this nation to its core, the possibility of having a woman in the White House threatens male domination in the political arena of the United States of America. Come on boys, decisions are not made with genitalia. At least not the intelligent ones.

Female presidents and prime ministers have served for decades in other First World nations such as Great Britain, Germany and the Scandinavian nations. Research has shown that women in government raise the bar on ethics and lower the boom on corruption. Conversely, in societies where women are held back and denied positions of power and leadership, the citizens, communities and countries suffer.

Hillary has the education, the experience and the credentials to qualify her for entrance to the Oval Office. Place her nameless, gender-free resume next to all the other candidates from both parties, and hers would rise to the top tier. This election is not about the best person for the job; it is about the American tradition of keeping women the caretaker of the family, not the caretaker of a nation. Most men, and some women, still believe the White House is, and should remain, the last male bastion in America.

You don't have to vote for her, you don't even have to like her, but it would be a healthly move to examine why you hate her. It might reveal more than you're ready to see.

A vote cast for one candidate is often a vote against a greater fear.

The Voice of Hair

2008-03-13T18:08:00.000-07:00

Somewhere there is a picture of me with beehive hair and poor posture posing for a pre-prom 1964 photo. I loathed the hairstyle, the hairspray, the painful teasing, but the worst part was feeling as if my hair belonged to someone other than me. I was a teenager, and had a pact with my best friends to wear our hair to the prom in the same style and height as Marge Simpson now sports--sans the blue. It was one of the few times I gave in to peer pressure. Big mistake for a girl who preferred a shampoo and go style. Amy Winehouse can have the beehive and the Cleopatra eyes.

During college I spent many nights sleeping with my long hair wrapped securely around orange juice cans to coax my wavy hair into being sleek and straight. Somehow I actually managed to sleep, and at the time the gain justified the pain. The next morning a couple of aspirin eased the headache and stiff neck, so I was able to meander the campus bare-headed in the dead of winter with a stick straight mane.

I never resorted to pressing my tresses, but on Friday nights all the ironing boards in the dorm were in use, and the smell of singed hair often wafted through the hallways. It was not a pretty sight or smell. Maybe it was masking marijuana--after all, it was the sixties.

When I was in grade school I preferred a pony tail. Get this hair out of my way so I can play. I had a colorful collection of pony tail holders, and my favorite one is still in my jewelry box. During my early years I was the poster girl for springy banana curls. My wavy fine hair was at one with the spiral curls, and I have fond memories of my mother wrapping the hair around her finger to achieve the banana locks.

Length matters to me. Other than one disastrous short haircut, I've worn my hair chin to collarbone length all my life. It's what works for me. And isn't that what we are all in search of in our lives? Something that works without being too much work. A good fit.

My hair's most outrageous moment happened my freshman year in high school. I adored Marilyn Monroe and while shopping with my mother I somehow talked her into purchasing a synthetic wig ala Monroe style. It was a little platinum number and I still can't believe my conservative Midwestern mother let me walk out of the store with it on my head.

Monday morning I wore it to school and five minutes into period one I was on my way to the Principal's office. He graciously allowed me to remove it in the girl's restroom and return to class. Okay, it wasn't a tattoo, but looking back on it I think my mother was pretty cool to allow me to express my individuality and to suffer the consequence without parental judgement.

My hair rests just above my shoulders today, and Mother Nature is adding more lovely white strands with each passing year. I'm embracing them, and mixing in a few blond streaks just to keep things interesting. The desire to go platinum blond in my teens was testing the boundaries of possibilities. The acceptance of platinum today is called aging gracefully.

It's important to feel comfortable with the hair you're in and the life you're living. But don't despair, things change, and if yours is no longer working for you a makeover may be in order.

I've always liked my hair and I still do. It has changed over the years, as has my life. I'm glad I've kept up with the times and shed the skins of the past.

Banana curls and beehives no longer work for me.

Tea, My Liquid Rock

2008-03-12T16:26:00.000-07:00

For some people is it mashed potatoes, for others mac and cheese, but my comfort food of choice is a cup of hot steaming tea. Blame my mother for this one. She greeted joy and grief with tea. Ditto for illness or celebration. It was an ordinary drink made extraordinary by the role it played in life's landmark moments.

I often awoke to hear the whistling teapot signaling the arrival of dawn. I don't remember ever leaving for school without at least one cup of tea and very often was sipping the second when the bus arrived. It was part of my waking ritual for years.

I didn't realize it at the time, but during those years I became quite the little tea connoisseur. I was constantly disappointed by the quality of tea in my college dormitory cafeteria. The water was never hot enough and the tea was never flavorful enough. I received more than one inquisitive look while steeping tea with the saucer on top of the cup. Making and drinking tea is an art and a ritual I turn to when faced with decisions and problems to solve.

On a chilly winter morning I love to cup the hot mug in both hands and inhale the rising steam as I sip the hot liquid. I do it instinctively, but it surely has aromatherapy benefits and the steam works to purge the overnight toxins from the skin. The tea bags are great to relieve tired and puffy eyes if my calendar requires an evening out after a long arduous day.

Today I found myself in need of a cup of tea. A friend is in the middle of a crisis, the real estate market mired deep in the doldrums and it seemed every phone call was a cry for help. From a house that won't sell to structural issues the situation cried out for tea.

I was calmed and comforted by the ritual. During those fifteen minutes of tea-triggered memories I felt a wave of serenity wash over me as I remembered a favorite verse.

This too shall pass.

Libidos Run Amok

2008-03-11T15:16:00.000-07:00

I’m not going to name names, but am I the only person tired of seeing another politician or prominent individual standing before the American people admitting to behaving badly? It never fails, they enlist the support of their wife to prop them up and offer some semblance of acceptance and forgiveness in hopes the masses will do the same.

Enough already. Where’s the guy who can own his behavior? It appears he was having a jolly good time on his own before being busted, but now he wants his wife by his side while the cameras roll and more family time.

I’m tired of this re-run; the premise is wearing thin. Why not grab that petite little 105 pound brunette that was worth risking family and career for, and let her have her 15 minutes of fame while you go down in flames?

Boys, get a backbone. Your wife is not your mother. Stop hiding behind her skirt.

Here’s my re-write on Tammy Wynette’s Stand By Your Man.

Stand Up, Be a Man

Sometimes it’s hard to be a good man
Giving all your love to just one woman
You want a good time, so you go find it
Doing things you shouldn’t, just because you can

If you’re caught, you’ll ask her forgiveness
Even though she doesn’t understand
And wonders who the hell is this man
she used to be your biggest fan

Stand up, be a man
Give her some hope to cling to
A little honesty could quiet her fears
You might even drop a few real tears

Stand up, be a man
And show the world your true self
Leaders don’t need a skirt to hide behind
Stand up, be a man

The Fortune Teller in Our Head

2008-03-09T15:43:00.000-07:00

We often ignore signals that offer the opportunity to experience life on a higher level. Sometimes we refuse to heed these signs because we’re too busy to ponder their meaning. Other times we ignore them out of fear of what we may discover.

Life changing events are frequently foreshadowed by a gut feeling, a psychic ping or even a dream. It is as if your subconscious knows what your conscious minds still refuses to acknowledge. I’ve learned to pay attention.

During a particularly busy holiday season a few years ago, I inexplicitly decided to pay a surprise visit to my out of state mother. I literally came home from a business trip and left a few hours later on the red eye flight out of Los Angeles to St. Louis. I arrived in time to take her out to lunch and enjoy a memorable afternoon and evening in her company. I’m glad I listened to the ping in my head that simply said go. At the end of a nearly perfect day together, my mother died. Had I not listened and heeded that ping in my head I would still have regrets of what might have been.

Is it possible that thought waves travel from subconscious to subconscious? How many times have you received a call from someone you were just thinking about? Do we receive messages in our dreams? Are some people more intuitive than others, or are they simply more in tune and better psychic listeners?

The brain is the last unmapped human frontier. It’s still in the wild, wild, west phase of medical exploration. If mine sends me a message I’m going to listen. Too many times I’ve pushed the intuitive messenger aside and later scolded myself.

An action not taken can impact your life as deeply as one acted upon.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

2008-03-07T18:18:00.000-08:00

I recently spent the better part of a day sorting family photographs. It was a trip down memory lane as I divided the photos into four stacks--one for each child. I love photos, but I love words equally as much.

I thumbed through the baby books and photo albums that captured the firsts of each of their lives. The nostalgia was nice, but the unforgettable quotes and quips allowed me to re-live the moment the words were uttered, and it was as precious in review as it was in reality.

To avoid any embarrassment in the event they discover and read this post, no names will be given. These are actual quotes and the names have been eliminated to protect the innocent and my relationship with said child!

I was folding laundry with my two year old. I rolled a pair of socks together and tossed the pear-shaped object to the child saying, "Here's a pair. Now find two more socks that match." He dug through the pile of laundry and came up with a matching twosome. He presented them to me with the innocence only the young can convey, "Here Mom. Can you make these into an apple?" Get it, apples and pears? That creativity and imagination is still present today.

While nursing the new baby the older toddler watched quietly, then asked, "What's the baby drinking?" I replied, "Just plain milk." The toddler responded without missing a beat, "Does the other one have chocolate milk?" The mind of a two year old is a marvelous thing.

"Will I have big breasts like Beth's mom, or little ones like you?" Out of the mouth of a four year old who was just beginning to play with Barbies and notice the physical differences between the neighbor and her mom. Proof that kids notice and understand a lot more than we think they do.

Kids listen too. "Man, get out of the road! Don't you know you could get hit by a car?" Admonishment given to a homeless man pushing a cart down the street, by a not yet two year old, who had to pull the bottle out of his mouth to give the stern warning. The man stopped dead in his tracks and smiled as he said, "That's the first time I ever heard a talking baby."

A sense of humor is a gift to the child and the parent. "Jackpot!" The quarter passed without surgery and when it connected with the china toilet bowl, the victory was announced by a delighted and very funny child! That sense of humor still delights me.

Children are an enormous responsibility and parenting requires a lifetime commitment. It's not a job you can quit or a toy you can return. Kids don't come with an instruction manual or a money-back guarantee if you're not happy with what you produced. There are no do-overs.

Children are like gardens--you begin with a seed and a leap of faith.

The Fragility of Happiness

2008-03-04T08:20:00.000-08:00

I am not a big fan of cartoons or comics, but periodically I notice one that is unforgettable. A Charlie Brown and Lucy moment stands out in my mind. They are having a deep philosophical conversation about why we are here on earth. Charlie tells Lucy we are here to make other people happy. Lucy, in all her glory, says, "Well somebody is not doing their job, because I'm not happy."

Sorry Lucy, there's no genie in a magical happiness lamp ready to grant your wish. You can't sit and wait for happiness to find you, and you can't blame others if that joyful state eludes you. It's every woman for herself in the quest for happiness.

Happiness often dances in the sunshine of life, but also spends more time than we might like lurking in the shadows just out of reach. Happiness happens along the way to contentment, but so does suffering and sorrow. Often it is only when we look back on a period of life that we realize we were truly happy in a given moment.

Happiness is like a sunrise or sunset. It is a rainbow, a flower, a warm thundershower, or a butterfly flitting by. It is in our midst for a blink of an eye, then gone, leaving us to bask in the glow of contentment after a magical moment. Do not expect it to stay indefinitely; happiness is not an entitlement.

Happiness once tasted, leaves us wanting more. That's what memories are for. They inspire us to seek and recreate not only material measures of happiness, but the moments that measure our abilities to give and share happiness with others.

Charlie Brown, I think you are right.

40 FREE Ways to Make a Difference

2008-03-02T14:05:00.000-08:00

Recession, inflation, market fluctuations and other economic woes often cause us to tighten our belts and reduce our generosity toward others. You do not have to write a big check to create positive change. Free opportunities appear each day; the next time one offers itself up in front of you, at that moment you have a choice to give or ignore.

The list is never ending, but here is a starting point:

Raise money for a cause you believe in
When you see trash, pick it up
Spearhead a petition you believe in
Pass on good news
Give up your seat
Donate blood
Surprise someone
Volunteer
Smile at a stranger
Send a thank you to someone who helped you
Throw a party for someone celebrating a milestone
Mentor a colleague who is new in your field
Rescue an animal from a shelter
Lead by example
Plant a tree
Clean up a beach
Reduce, reuse and recycle
Live a greener life
Donate items to charity
Host a neighborhood garage sale
Take the oldest person you know to lunch, or carry it in
Call an old friend or client you have not heard from in years
Welcome a newcomer
Join an organization or club
Tutor a child
Share your talents with others
Be the cool head in a stressful situation
Hold the door
Listen without judging
Find a solution to a problem
Say thank you often
Offer support to a friend in need
Beautify your community
Give more than you take
Be of service
Elect to be an organ donor
Host a “How To” event
Compliment others on their successes
Forgive
Laugh

Remember, everyone is going through something. Your acts of kindness may lighten their load.

Four Angels

2008-02-29T07:17:00.000-08:00

On a sleepless night I was cruising (I prefer to cruise rather than surf) the Internet, and stumbled upon an article in which the author referred to the, "four monkeys on his back." He listed food, alcohol, drugs, and smoking. Those are weights of elephantine proportion, and I can't imagine the toll they must extract from his being each day.

My musings about living with addictions was just that, for I'm fortunate I do not have an addictive personality. Chocolate is delicious, wine enhances a wonderful meal and shopping is a necessary evil. However, I asked myself what do I crave, what do I wake up wanting?

As the light was coming into the new day, it dawned on me I have four angels on my shoulders, and I would be bereft if I had to live life without them. Movement, meditation, music and meaningful work propel me through my day and life.

Perhaps we should concentrate more on our angels and less on our demons. Placing our attention and focus on what we want to manifest will bring it center stage in our lives, and leave the monkeys waiting in the wings.

Okay, I'll fess up, a glass of fine wine, a piece of exquisite dark chocolate and a new pair of shoes can put a contented smile on my face every once in awhile too. Pair the wine and chocolate with some Pavarotti or Andrea Bocelli and I'm in my private heaven.

Find your angels and give them the lead role in your life. They will lift you up.

Their wings will help you fly.

What if?

2008-02-28T17:38:00.000-08:00

I salute Oprah’s effort to change the world one life at a time. With her global recognition, financial resources and burning desire she truly has and will continue to effect change. Few of us are blessed with her charisma and cash, but what if we each pledged to begin to examine our daily decisions and actions with this questions: Will this make me a better me? Eckart Tolle poses such questions in Oprah's bookclub selection of A New Earth Awakening to Your Life's Purpose.

Self-improvement can appear to be a selfish endeavor. Too much me, me, me is a turnoff to most people. However, if enough people change just one person, the world will reflect this new tilt. We know it is impossible to change anyone other than yourself, so work on the reflection you see in the mirror.

Change is contagious. It can spread throughout a family, school, workplace and community like wildfire. There must be a catalyst and enough wind to fan the flames. Be that catalyst and fan it with your new on purpose actions. Be ready for the metamorphosis of your soul.

It is never too late to change. Go for it!