Run Forest Run

     I don't know why, but I never tried. 

     Maybe it's the fear of failing, but even when I would, I'd set myself up for disappointment by setting the bar at sub-zero.  I didn't compete for the same reasons.  Something inside me has echoed that I can't for so long that more often than not, I just didn't.
     'Something' changed, and one day, that negative voice disappeared.  I told myself I wanted to run.
Anyone who knows me knows that statement is laughable. If I was in a horror flick, I'd be the first one that Jason, Micheal, Freddy Kreuger, or CandyMan would kill. Maybe because I'd spend so much time looking back that I wouldn't be watching where I was going, and trip.  So I stopped looking behind me.  I competed with no one other than the self I was the day before, and I ran (or maybe jogged-but i was moving).
     Today, I finally did it.  I set a goal for myself, I worked, and I completed my first 5K run.  With that done, I feel there is so much more that I am capable of doing.
     I know that if I'm not careful, the dark voice of can't will try to find its way back in.  But even then, I'm ahead of the game because I have had the experience of trying and succeeding.

 If you say you can or you can't you are right either way”
― Henry Ford

    

How Tradition can Doom Your Valentine

Commercialism is killing cupid.

                                                   
  If you are looking to impress some lucky lady this Valentine's day, save yourself and your money.
'Real men' are incapable of gifting a woman at all, says me and every sitcom ever aired on a prime time network.

The following are a list of traditional and not-so-original Valentine's day gifts to beware.

Home-made cards-While there are some that swear it's the thought that counts, unless your under 10 and she gave birth to you that 'home made' card sentiment reeks 'cheap ass'.

Flowers are beautiful, smell nice, but have a short shelf-life.  Is pretty and quick to die the message you want to send about your relationship?

Store bought cards-Although the purchase and selection time shows thoughtful intent, there isn't much written inside that tells her what she means to you.  If you're just going to pick the biggest card and sign your name-save yourself and your money.  Realize she's going to put you on the spot to tell her HOW she makes you feel the way Hallmark or American Greetings has expressed your feelings.

Sexy Lingerie-She may have a great body and appreciate nice undergarments.  Perhaps that's all you think of her-sex-sex-sex-and then as a result of your one track mind... you get none.  Or you get her size wrong and she accuses you of mixing her form with another girlfriend's, still in the end, you get the doghouse.

Stuffed Animals-I don't even almost buy the 'melt her heart with a giant teddy bear' angle.    Unless you're a pedophile looking for a parole violation, or looking to cram more unnecessary clutter into your home. Skip it!


Clothing-most heterosexual men have no idea how to shop for a woman.  If left to their own devices you'll end up looking like a devil in red, a slutty nurse, or a hooker (and it's not even Halloween).  Men are going to gravitate to what catches their eyes, which isn't necessarily something you'll soon see in Vogue or In Style.  To make a bad case scenario worse, you pick the wrong size, either way..... disaster.
Too big-shows you have a poor body image of her.
Too small-gives her a poor body image of herself.
    She's going to bed with a pint of Ben & Jerry's or browsing the Weight Watchers Website on her laptop.  Either way, it won't be you she's be curling up with.

Board Games-  you can go beyond tradition and pick out a naughty board game like:
Naughty Bingo, Sexy Truth or Dare, I Dare You, Sex Stack, or Know your Partner.  After she's done laughing and gives you a hug for originality, after she backs away and asks WHY you chose a board game, after you begin to sweat is when she asks you that question, Why the board game, why THAT board game "Well, ARE you bored with it?" -before you know it you could have saved the $$, because she's already playing 20 questions.

Jewelry-  If you haven't already given her 'THE' ring, don't bother with the jewelry.  My husband once took me to pick a belated anniversary gift.  The pieces he was showing me were so 1980-gold and multicolored stones-that I was half expected a weathered Olivia Newton John to come into the store singing 'Xandu.'  Also keep in mind that if you do propose on Valentines day, that's an eternity of TWO gifts she can expect from you-anniversary AND Valentine's day.

What CAN you do?  What DO you give her?  A good start would be to avoid putting labels on ANY days-Mother's, Father's, Thanksgiving, Earth day etc.  No one day, no single card, no isolated gift is ever enough to tell a person in your life that you're there, you're listening, and all you want to do is be happy together.  The intent should not be that one day makes up for the other 364 there are to express yourself to those around you.  There should be a constant attempt at trying.  These commercial holiday celebrations should be reminders to us all.

That being said, I'd like to take these last few moments to say how important it is to make the attempt. Because the worst possible turnout to receiving a lame gift-is disappointment...but the punishment for making no attempt at all....is self explanatory.

In the Dog house.

Looker or Hooker?

     I'm in Israel for my nephew Ralphie's Bar Mitzvah.  It's been a wonderful trip so far, the Kotel, the Dead sea, the waterfalls in Ein Gedi, Israel is breathe taking....but this morning, I AM NOT.  Just hours before the bar mitzvah, I'm looking in the mirror and a plaster mask is staring me back. 
     My sister Diana had arranged to have my hair and make up done from a few weeks ago, at the time it sounded very convenient.  Diana is not much about details, hadn't spoken with anyone else who used either of these women, saw no photos of their work.  I myself fall short of the follow up, so in truth this is all my own doing.  I was asked to be on time and have my face clean and hair washed by 6am.  The less asked of me the better.
     Who would have thought I'd have to come to Israel to have my make up done by someone from Queens, and hair by a girl from Monsey?   My sister beamed with excitement as the hair dresser curled and put the finishing touches on her locks.  I sat down, introduced myself to Angie.  She complimented my skin tone, coloring, and youthful glow.  She began to massage my face with moisturizer.  It felt great. I told her that I didn't want heavy foundation and concealer, she completely got it. 
     "Do you have a certain look you want me to give you?"  Angie asked.
     "Natural beauty? Nice lashes, etc."  I answered.
     "What color is your dress?"
     She seemed to be asking all the right questions. I took a deep breathe in comfort feeling that even though I was far from home, the language of beauty was universal.  I noticed the color palate for the eye shadow she was using looked like pharmacy counter goods, but I wasn't going to be a snob today.  As long as she knew what she was doing, I'd be fine.
     "Now I'm gonna ask you to do something crazy.  I need you to pucker up like you're gonna suck on a lemon."  Angie said, big and animated.
      In one blink I went from being reasonably confident in this hired professional, to seeing how much she appeared to be like Bette Midler in a sitcom.  I looked around the room slowly, there were no hidden cameras, no TV hosts popping in the window or doors.  It was just me, my sister, Queens, and Monsey.  Apprehensively I stuck my tongue out and sucked in my cheeks, looking like an angry peacock, ready to attack.  Queens took her blush brush and grazed it against my cheeks.
     "WHEW!!   Look at that, look at those cheekbones."  Prided the Bette Midler lookalike.

Neutral is nice?

     I wasn't wearing my glasses, I saw no contrast in bone, I saw no color on cheek.  I couldn't imagine what her excited exclamation was for.  It only confirmed my original theory that I was being pranked live on Israeli tv.  Another fifteen minutes went by with the occasional 'Wow' or 'Look at you,' ...but I'd really rather not.
     Her finished work was the me that walked in at 6am, only I was painted beige.  My coloring was somewhere between ecru and eggshell, an acceptable color for a wall, not a human face.  Apparently Queens didn't believe in the beauty of eyelashes either, because she skipped the mascara completely.
      Angie was American, so a mistranslation didn't make sense.   This must be her idea of a 'party face.'  Now with no confidence in her tools, and even less in her ability to beautify my sleepy face, I was only sure of one thing-that I'd need do my make up once she was done.  I asked for natural, but got neutral.
     My sister watched from a distance, her mouth closed but her eyes belly laughing at me in the mirror.  When I commented that my face could use a little more color, she came back at me with, "You don't want to go walking into one of the holiest place in the world looking like a hooker."  No, I didn't want to walk in anywhere like a hooker, I also didn't want to show up looking like I'd been drained of four pints of blood.

Before or After?

      It was time for step two of my 'Extreme Make Under.'  I told Monsey the hair dresser I wanted my tresses to have full  body,  not the banana curls she had given my fifteen year old niece.   Monsey's personality was  understated and mouse-like, she spoke in a whispered squeak.  These beauticians may have been from New York state, their state of mind (when it came to hair and make up) was more Wyoming.
     When she claimed she had finished and I went to pay her, I ran a hand through my hair feeling damp and wet at the back of my neck.  When I brought it to her attention she looked me quizzically, "but it's near your scalp."  Almost no visible color in my face and wet hair, it was deja vu of coming out of the shower an hour earlier.
     What I've taken from this experience is different people have different ideas.   I say tomato you say a darker color in the eye crease makes one a whore.  I'll respectfully agree to disagree and never use someone abroad if I haven't seen samples of their work.
     Now all I have to do after I stop laughing and calling myself a tramp as I  brush some color on my face....is get the rest of the family ready (by the way, they're all still asleep).

"You don't want to look like a hooker at one of the holiest places in the world."