I disagree strongly. I didn't get married until I was 48 -- almost 49.
I am man repellant.
I am a woman who lived through my twenties and thirties mostly as a single woman. I had a few relationships here and there. None of them were too important. A couple of trysts I treated as more important than they were, and a couple of affairs I probably should've paid more attention to, but I didn't.
The truth is that if I had married anyone that I met when I was in college, I would've regretted it for the rest of my life. I wasn't ready to be loved or give love in a way that makes a long term relationship successful. My dad always said that I was a late bloomer. It always got under my skin when he said it, but now that I'm older I'm able to admit that he was right. I am a really late bloomer.
Sometimes I wish that I had gotten involved with someone enough to have children when I was in my late thirties or early forties, but I know that I wouldn't still be with that person. Or if I was, it would only be for the children. And I don't think that's a good lesson for children. I think you should teach children about happiness by letting them see how you find yours. I think that's one of the most important lessons that you can teach children.
But what do I know? I'm not a mom. I am not a teacher. I am, however, someone who struggled to find their own path for many years. And sometimes I was lonely. I could choose to regret all those years out in the woods while I was trying to find my own way. But I wasn't completely lost. That's not what it looked like to me. Just as I am now, I was a vibrant and active member of society. I was caring and giving. I learned. I worked. I played. I loved. I lost. I won. I lived. I think it would be a poor decision to regret any of it.
I'm not saying that I'm a better person because I waited until I was 48 until I got married. I'm just saying that I'm a better me because I waited. I waited for me to be grown up and ready for love and, most importantly, for the right man to stumble into my life.
And that's when every woman should get married -- exactly at that very nebulous time in her life. When she's ready and she's found the one. And until then, she shouldn't ever feel like she's man repellant. And shame on anyone who calls her that behind her back. For that is what's truly repellant.
And I mean that as a compliment. When I saw the woman that Amy Poehler was a sit-com writer, I was thrilled. That's what I wanted to be when I grew up -- I just missed by a little. And by that I mean a mile or two. Irma acts how I've always thought that my hero, Helene Hanff would act like -- if I had ever met her. Helene is my favorite writer ever. And I think Irma sounds like what I imagined Helene would sound like. She even looks like her. And afte watching this interview, she's my hero as well. And did I mention I love Amy Poehler? She rocks. Go sister!
This is a photo of Lisa Vanderpump at her wedding in 1982. She's one of the Real Housewives Of Beverly Hills. Or so I am told. I can't bring myself to watch those kind of reality shows. I have real problems in my real life that I'm dealing with -- I don't want to watch scripted problems be over-dramatized in someone's (well-compensated) fake life.
I am fascinated with weddings. I love looking at photos of weddings. I love seeing all of the small tidbits that each bride picked out to wear and to decorate their wedding venue. I've never seen one that wasn't beautiful. And you have to admit, this photo is gorgeous. The horses. The guy in tails and top hat. It's all so very elegant and delicious. It's just exactly how I remember Princess Diana's wedding. When Diana was planning her wedding, she went over the top. And then all of the rest of us did too. We fell in love with the puff-shouldered dress. Even those of us who looked like linebackers in puff shoulder dresses wore them for special moments because we wanted to feel like a princess.
And so I am grateful for several things. First, that I didn't get married in 1982 because I wouldn't have been very selective about the man I married when I was so young. And second, because I would've married in a dress that would've been a (much) cheaper model of the one shown above because I would've wanted to look like Diana on my wedding day. I'm glad I didn't marry until after Kate planned her wedding to William. Kate is a commoner who understands refined understatement. It probably doesn't hurt that her family got rich being party planners either. So when she planned her wedding, she decorated Westminster Abbey with trees and walked down the aisle in a simple lace dress. She saved me from being a puffy sleeved disaster.
It's been really cold in southern California. And by really cold, we mean that we've had to wear coats over our sweaters. Cold is weather in the 30s here. It's not cold enough or likely to snow. And we won't ever be able to match the negative numbers that cities like Minneapolis and Fargo wake up to every morning for month after month. But the one thing we can do is complain about the cold snap just as loudly as they would in the northern climes. How cold was it in LA? I refused to have dinner on the patio at our favorite restaurant one night. Sure, the heaters there made it feel just was warm as a summer's night, but since I came to the restaurant wrapped up in my winter coat, I wasn't about to eat dinner or sip red wine outside. I wore my Uggs to work several days in a row. And I used the cold and dark night for an excuse not to exercise several nights in a row. Unfortunately, winter is now over in SoCal. The days are getting longer. It's light out almost until 5pm now -- which gives me plenty of time to exercise outside. And it's going up to 80 today. So I can walk in the sunshine and enjoy the roses that are about to bloom. I also no longer have an excuse to sip red wine and will need to get back on my diet in order to lose weight now that sweater season is officially over. It was fun while it lasted.
So here we are starting another year...and since this year ends with a three, I know that I'm going to be having an "Oh" birthday in October. Oh no! At the start of each year, I've always tried to set some goals for myself. Last year they were all about my writing. I wanted to finish a novel and start something new and go to the writer's conferences and pitch my book. I did all that and yet when I look back on last year I think that it was all about different things. Starting a new job, traveling for work, getting married...none of those activities had anything to do with being a professional writer. And so as we start another year, I wonder if I should set goals in other parts of my life in order to make certain that I will work on my writing this year. I've always wanted to be a writer, and yet it's the one part of my life, the one part of my daydreams that I pay the least attention to. So I've been having a hard time trying to decide what to do and what kind of goals to set. And while I've been standing here unable to make a decision, an entire week has gone by. I've got to get a list. I've got to set some goals. But in the time I take to do that, I could be writing... Hmmmm...... This could take a while.
I was horrified when I heard about the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut. The first thoughts that flashed through my mind after I heard the news were for the parents. The moms who had probably already purchased and wrapped presents "from Santa" and had them hidden in closets throughout their home for children who would not be there on Christmas morning. I can't imagine their sorrow. The tragedy hit close to home because my husband grew up in Newtown, CT. I had heard him talk about Newtown. It was idyllic. He had recently visited his childhood home. He showed me photos. His precious memories of Newtown are different from how most of us will remember it now. I was disgusted every time I heard a newscaster talk about the "26 people murdered" in Newtown. Tell the truth, I thought. They were all babies. Even the teachers who protected those little souls were mostly in their twenties -- their heartbroken parents also in mourning for them. I felt so hopeless and outraged that such an act could happen -- and so helpless. So I took on the challenge to commit 26 acts of kindness in honor of those precious angels who lost their lives. I'm sorry to say that as of now I'm only up to fourteen. Turns out I'm not very kind. Or this being kind thing is a lot harder than it looks. I'd also like to add in my defense that I'm not prepared to be kind. I don't carry cash with me, and I don't often go to Starbuck's where I could purchase a cup of coffee for the person behind me in line. I have bought meals for the local food pantry. I've given change to a lady at the hair salon who didn't have enough to pay her bill. I've bought a bale of hay for the local animal shelter and contributed money for homeless pets. I've also given money to the homeless man outside of Vons and a kid selling candy in front of the mall. Still, it doesn't all add up to 26 acts of kindness. I will not be deterred. I guess it's going to take me a little more time. I thought I could complete all 26 acts by the end of the holidays. But I'm going to need until the end of January. I want to honor each and every one of those angels. It is the very least I can do. Until then, can I buy you a cup of coffee?
