Ok, so here's a question. How many strikes do you give a person before they're struck out? I mean really...And let me clarify, I don't mean a relationship necessarily. It could be a co-worker, a neighbor, a longtime friend. When someone does you wrong, do they get another chance? How many? Why?
This is an area that I struggle with. I tend to give one strike. It's way hard for me to turn the other cheek. Like Maya Angelou said, "When people show you who they are, BELIEVE them." You simply don't get multiple chances to hurt, embarass, or plain ole "show out" on me. Am I wrong for this?
Your comments--priceless!!
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Today is my anniversary. And while thinking about it this morning, I came up with what I will call "The Essential Core of Relationships." It doesn't necessarily mean marriage, but rather any relationship--friends, employers/employees, co-workers, neighbors, teacher/student, etc. For me, the essential core of ANY relationship is respect. We have to respect the wishes of others, the beliefs of others, the morals and standards of others. We have to respect their opionions, their choices, and their actions. Without mutual respect, there is NO relationship. Do you agree? If not, tell me what the essential core is...Your comments--priceless!!
I post daily. So that you don't miss any of my randomness, you might want to subscribe by email.
What's with this new term, "cougar?" These are older women that go after younger men. We now call them cougars, huh? Well, I take offense. I am NOT a cougar.
No matter that I'm a few years older than my husband, and I often remind him that I already knew how to spell my name by the time he was born. And, no matter that I often dated younger men when I was single. I am NOT a cougar.
Why is cougar a derogatory term when older men have been stalking and preying on the youngest of women since the beginning of time? Why do women have to bear a stamp of shame? I am NOT a cougar.
I'm interested to see how you all feel about this. And in case you missed it--I am NOT a cougar!!
Your comments--priceless!!
Do you have a nickname? I don't mean when your name is Catherine and everyone calls you Cathy. I mean when your name is Maria and everyone calls you Tiny. That kind of nickname.
I have one. I'm told that on the very day that I was born, someone came to the hospital to visit and proclaimed that I looked just like Pebbles on the Flintstones show. I find that interesting because Pebbles clearly has a headful of hair, pulled into a ponytail and I was bald so long that I nearly wore a wig to kindergarten. But that's a whole different story. Let's get back to the nickname.
So I became Pebbles. In fact, I'm still Pebbles or Pebbs to folks that have known me since I was knee high to a grasshopper. Recently, a woman that never knew that I was/am Pebbles met my mom. She then sent me a email addressing me as Pebbles. I think that she thought that I was ashamed. NOT! I answer to Pebbles much like I answer to Jewel. In fact, I didn't even realize that she had addressed me as Pebbles until I got way deep into her email. I don't mind at all. Call me whatever you like, just don't call me late for dinner!
What's your nickname? Is it a source of embarassment for you? Tell me about it.
Your comments--priceless!!
Do you guys remember the Blondie comic strip? Blondie's husband Dagwood would make huge sandwiches to eat between meals. They were much bigger than any human could consume. He would cram nearly everything in the kitchen between 2 slices of bread and top it with an olive on a toothpick.
These past few days have reminded me a lot of a Dagwood sandwich, with me as the middle and my family as the bread. Let me explain. On one hand, I have my parents--they are both post retirement seniors, though neither is hardly idle. On the other hand, I have the youngsters of the family--carefree and careless. I seem to always be caught in between.
Last night, we were out on the town--Miami. My daughters (22, and nearly 18) had decided to get henna tattoos. Henna tattoos are temporary and last for about 3 weeks. The girls have been talking about them for a couple of years. So, when we passed the kiosk, they stopped and browsed all of the designs. They both found ones that they liked. I didn't give it passing thoughts. I figured that it could be worse, they could be contemplating permanent tattoos. So, I wasn't surprised when they excused themselves from dinner as soon as they were done and headed back to get the henna. Everyone else lingered at the table--talking, laughing, having dessert. When we were ready, we headed outside to the kiosk.
My dad took his seat on a bench, scowling. The girls were getting the tattoos. The rest of the family wandered about the area. My dad couldn't understand why they would get that "junk (henna)." He wanted me to forbid it. I spent a lot of time explaining that this is the kind of thing that young folks do and I didn't have a problem with it. In between expressing his disapproval, he did his fair share of people watching. I pointed out young folks with colored hair, rings in their tongues and eyebrows, and designs cut into their hair.
The tattoos came out cute! The oldest ended up getting 2. I should have gotten 1 too. Dad would have croaked.
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Please let me introduce Shelby M Hill, a professional relationship coach and also an FOJ (Friend of Jewel). He coaches women regarding dating, relationship and social barriers. Interesting work, huh?
After watching women in his life experience unfulfilled, volatile, and dysfunctional relationships, he decided that he wanted to educate women about men--in addition to educating them on loving and working on themselves, rather than expecting a man to do it for them. He's challenged with making his clients understand that by investing in themselves, they can change the outcome of their personal situations.
One of the things that I love about Shelby is his unconditional and unabashed adoration for his wife, British. His blog, called My Life With My Wife, is a glimpse inside their relationship and never fails to make me smile. His honest accounts of those little "situations" that all marriages experience have given me great insight into the "husband's" point of view. He calls British his best friend, business partner, lover and confidante. When he even thinks of her, he beams--and I find it quite refreshing!
Shelby has extended an invitation to my readers to friend him on Facebook (Shelby M Hill), follow him on Twitter(@shelbymhill), comment on his blog, and visit his website. He also offers complimentary coaching sessions. Contact him via email at shelby@shelbymhill.com for more information.
I asked Shelby about his plans for the future and I wasn't surprised to find that they include writing books, hosting teleseminars and speaking engagements. And of course, British.
Your comments--priceless!!
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Ok--Here's the question--Who pays for a date? Should the male always pay, no matter what? Should the female offer? What's your take? I'll tell you how I feel.
I think the person who asked should pay. If a woman calls a guy and invites him out to dinner, she should pay for the meal. If he calls her, he should pay for it. But, if I was dating someone regularly, I would have no problem in offering to pay occasionally--I think it's the right thing to do.
Of course, there are those guys that wouldn't let a woman pay, regardless. Those are the guys that are giving Chivalry mouth to mouth. If the guy insisted on paying, I would let him. However, if I asked him out, I would be prepared to pay for the activity.
How do you feel? If you are a woman, would you EVER pay for date? Ever? If yes, under what circumstances? If no, why not?
Your comments--priceless!
Here's the question--How has your life most benefitted from the internet? This is an easy one for me. By far, the hugest benefit for me has been the amazing friendships that I've developed. I've met the most amazing folks on the web. I'm not sure if I could have met them any other way.
And I'm able to do research from home. As I child, I did some research for school at my neighborhood library. But for in-depth research, I had to go to the Main Library, in downtown DC. That involved money, buses, and walking. My children have much more available to them instantly, without even leaving the house. The amount of information available on the net still amazes me. I won't even mention shopping from home.
I've even astounding business contacts. It's helped me tremendously in nearly every position that I've held. I'm not sure what my life would be like if there was no internet. I doubt that it would have been the same.
What about you? What area of your life has the internet impacted most? Tell me about it...
Your comments--priceless!!
I overheard a group of women lamenting about how hard it seems to be to find a mate. They didn't have trouble meeting men, but the relationships never progressed. They were looking for romance and feared it was dead.
I disagree. I don't think romance is dead. It may be comatose, but certainly not dead. I just think that in this day and time, folks want everything too fast. We seem to go from first meeting to cohabitating in one fell swoop. Whatever happened to what my granny used to call "courting?"
Let's slow it down. Let's get to know each other. And most importantly, let's not assume that every relationship should end in love and marriage. Just because he isn't what you are looking for in husband, doesn't mean that he should be disgarded as a friend. I've always believed that people come into your life for many reasons. He/She may have come into your life, not as a potential mate, but to introduce you to his/her sibling, who IS a potential mate. He may be your new BFF, and not a romantic interest at all. Or he/she may have come into your life as a catalyst to learn a life lesson. Keep your mind open to all possibilities and let it flow nicely.
Your comments--priceless!
Ok, so here's a question. How many strikes do you give a person before they're struck out? I mean really...And let me clarify, I don't mean a relationship necessarily. It could be a co-worker, a neighbor, a longtime friend. When someone does you wrong, do they get another chance? How many? Why?
