How about, Shaz, next time you go to work, the mall, or a labyrinth, you glide, slide, and twirl a bit? Wink, smile, and wave? Dip, bend, and high-five? Strut, saunter, and beam?
Just a bit?
Teeny, tiny? Or, you could just walk, Shaz. – The Universe
“Choices, choices, we all make choices” was my ex’s ex’s battle cry whenever he headed off in a different direction, leaving her behind, behind. He wasn’t chasing skirts; he was fishing for striped bass or joining a couple of buddies on the tennis court but he was flying without his co-pilot and she wanted more time in the cockpit (no pun intended). They were likely unconscious decisions on his part; the man was simply doing what the man wanted to do. But that included having fun without her and she didn’t like it. Who would? Continue reading “LIVING UNSCRIPTED: The Choices We Make” »
I was invited to Susy’s 30th birthday party last week. She’s a total knockout beauty who’s parleyed her friendships with single super-yuppies into a high-end event-based dating service …and parleyed that into a possible reality TV series. Naturally, I was flattered to be included on her list of fab friends, but seriously?? Manhattan’s Meatpacking district on a Thursday night looks like a Saturday night (don’t these people have to get up for work in the morning??) when not one little girl (and I mean tiny) has got less than 10 inches of thigh showing, 
One of the funny bones of midlife dating is the fact that we’re a bunch of empty nesters who are actively reinvesting years of well honed nurture-nature in to new adult relationships. With grown children in various stages of financial and emotional independence, we miss the care-taking and are filling in the gaps with each other. 
Hock und Sterb (“Hook & Stab,” the nickname of a thorn tree that grows in the Bush) 
I wasn’t quite sure that anyone would really understand my resistance to settling back down in to a routine when I got back from my six-month travels, but when I gingerly mentioned to one of my investors that I wasn’t ready to unpack my bags — “just yet,” she responded with “I’d love to lose my furniture…Just get rid of it and travel.” Her husband was in the backseat, listening in to our conversation and wrote me in an email later that week, that he, too, would love to break free the shackles of responsibility and take the time he’s earned, to do/see what he’s always wanted to do/see — while he still can. They’ve actually done a good bit of exotic traveling in the last few years but always on organized tours for specific amounts of time, not open-ended and certainly not by the seat of their pants. 
“There’s A Fine, Fine Line 
“I don’t want to brag or make anyone jealous or anything,
I’m home. 
I started walking… not even looking at Emma who was on line at the Royal Opera to get tickets for Sunday’s matinee. “I dropped my jacket somewhere” I moaned in her direction as I headed in the opposite, retracing my footsteps, out in to Covent Garden, around the corner, then right, past the Lion King, crossing the street where we came from, eyes focused towards the ground… on to Waterloo Bridge, looking down, left, right, for the matching jacket to my pants, that I was carrying on my arm because of the extraordinary warm weather… If you lose it, you’ll find it, I kept repeating, speed walking across the Thames. 
I landed in the UK the day before William and Kate showed the world the very best of what it means to be a Royal (not to mention “young and in love”). Being an incurable romantic, I was engrossed from the minute I spotted the first silly hat to the last of the tacky outfits, running commentary with my gracious hosts, Mr. and Mrs. H, in Yorkshire. Could have done with a more tango-inspired kiss on the balcony, but all things considered (what with the Queen, the Step-mum and the Uncle who’s a bit sketchy), well… Well done! Nothing like a little blue blood spectacular to pump up the £ (pound). 
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