Ciao Bello

AMALFI0815-wineSo I had my date with the handsome foreigner. I loved the club. It was all that I was expecting as far as decor and vibe. A friendlier, more colorful SOHO House. I felt like I was in a cool friends living room at a holiday party.I checked in at the front desk and the hostess was as gorgeous as I knew she would be. My date was a few minutes late but I was made to feel very welcome in the meantime. I watched as he entered the room. I was sitting across the room. He was handsome in a manly way but on the shorter side. (If I sound like I have a problem with short men, I don’t. I have dated many men under 5′-10″ and had long-term relationships with three of them. I just don’t like when people misrepresent things like height and weight. I plan my show accordingly and I’d honestly rather be in a flat or a low heel than stilettos. images-1Flag #1. Ok I get it – men tend to fib/lie about this and women often take a few pounds or years off. Move on and be positive! So what, he was charming, considerate, wearing good nothing, absolutely smart and well-traveled. Things were looking up.

I have no interest in talking about myself since I know everything there is to know about me biographically so I like to listen. Give a man enough rope and they will hang themselves is my motto. I learned of his discomfort as a student at the Sorbonne, his wife and their messy divorce “She thought I had millions more buried somewhere”, not much about his children (usually a sign that there’s a problem or relationship issues). As he blabbed I paid attention. I think thats the most important thing to do on a date – listen and learn! He then spoke of the Zimbabwe model he dated and then came the story of his second marriage. Yet another flag. They were only married “so she would be covered under my medical coverage”. She had “some health issues” which he didn’t go into detail. Nice guy or another red flag? Then he talked about his living circumstances from renting a floor in a run down brownstone in Brooklyn to his subletting a small apartment not in a very desirable area from a colleague. Oh and he brought up money and expenses too often. He never really was clear about his emotional hibernation but he was certainly painting a picture with ups and downs. I like steady and even keeled. Hmmm… Pleasant, polite, considerate but a small cloud was over his head. Would I go on a second date? Maybe I was being too harsh. I could have dinner and see what I thought. We finished up and he helped me with my coat. I heard him mumbled something about the quality of my Max Mara cashmere coat. I ignored it.mood06_ai10_101801-gall

My date gratuitously walked me to a lounge where I was meeting a friend. He gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. Yeah, maybe I would go on a second date. By the time I ordered a drink I had a new message on one of my email accounts. Mind you this is an email account I only use for business – not general business, specifically writing. It is not connected to this blog or anything else. I clicked on the link:

A Promise Kept:
Even if you never saw me again, I would be remiss if I didn’t share the experience of dining at Lo Scoglio in the small town of Nerano.  That’s a seaside village near Sorrento and Capri.  You enter it by boat.  It’s on the coast.  Food is magical and one of the most memorable dining experiences I’ve ever had.  You are literally on the sea itself and the food is amazing.  It’s part of a hotel.
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There are two restaurants in the village:  one is a Michelin-starred restaurant where all of the tourists go.  All of the Italians go to Lo Scoglio.  It’s run by a wonderful family (the dog is all over the place) and it’s just wonderful. We tried several dishes, all of which were superb, nothing over-embellished, just simple food made from the best ingredients, cooked really well.  Definitely a place to go with a special person. Ciao bella!
How did he get my email address? Why was he sending restaurant recommendations for the Italian Riviera? I spend more time in Fra4456.Capri-ferrynce, I’m not particularly fond of Italian food and I never expressed any interest in Italy or asked for his advice. I was weirded out. By the time I got home I had a text message and then another and then a phone call from him. So here we have it, expectation to disappointment in less time then the ferry from Sorrento to Capri.
UPDATE: The day after my blog pieces Looking Forward/ Looking Forward 2 posted I received this message from my date – Happy New Year. I hope you weren’t totally freaked out by our meeting at Norwood and had a good time in the Caribbean. I was amused at your characterisation of the build-up to the date, as I had given details of Norwood to assist, certainly not to patronise. If it came across as viewing you as “stupid”, I apologise. And I do prefer “age appropriate women” (my profile actually is 40-55, not 30*, which would be kind of creepy, I agree). Anyway, at least I wasn’t as bad as the cheapskate date, (although perhaps you were indulging in some artistic license there as well?:D )
I never gave him my blog’s name.
*This was an outright lie.

A Blue Mother’s Day

I love my mother. Has she been a maxresdefaultperfect mom? No. Who is perfect? I certainly am not. Like most daughter, my mom and I weren’t always chums. As my mom aged and I wised up I was able to truly love her – warts and all. She doesn’t really have any warts – her issues were more about rigidity, anxiety and the need to hide or cover up the truth. With old age her anxiety has lessened and I’m very pleased to say she is much more open. I think the rigidity disappeared soon after my dad passed away. I have come to a place where I can say I have a wonderful relationship with my mom and really enjoy spending time with her. How fortunate I am!

Birthday-Poem-For-A-GrandmaSadly, this Mother’s Day will be a blue one for me. I believe it will be the first year in my life that I am not with my mom on Mother’s Day. Thankfully, she is still on planet Earth, alive and well. Intead, I accepted a project and will not be able to spend Sunday doing the daughter thing. I know I am very lucky that I still have a mom. So many of my friends have lost theirs. I just feel more awful than I imagined even though I sent a beautiful card and she will receive flowers later today. I will see my mom next week to celebrate her awesomeness but I still feel like a made a mistake.

Grandmother_t580I want to wish all of you and your moms a Happy Mother’s Day whether you are fortunate to be together or for those of you who won’t be – whether physical distance or heaven separate you. We wouldn’t be here if not for our mom’s. Try to put any drama or issues away for the day and celebrate the woman who put you on this great planet. And to all you mom’s – I hope someone spoils you the way you should be! You’ve got the toughest job on the planet!

Photos by Stephen Bryer. You can follow him on Instagram at Modernfloralism.

 

Show Us Your Penis

Here’s a Monday laugh for you! Thanks College Humor.

Flowers for You

12695820_10153927272733841_1086550970_nWhether you received flowers this year for Valentine’s Day or not, my friend, and photographer, Stephen Breyer, has sent you some. Try to have a day filled with love, even if it’s self-love!

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Valentine’s Day Break Up

white-roses-flowers-25785316-600-375It was our second date. We were siting at the bar in a rather nice restaurant on the water. An older woman came in selling roses. My date stopped her and said he wanted to buy some roses for me. She looked over to me and as142596-143862ked, “Red or White?”

“White, definitely white. I hate red roses.”

“What woman hates red roses?” asked my date.

“Me. I can’t stand them, never could. Long stem red roses are the absolute worst.” My date looked at me as though I were insane and then bought me every white bloom in her basket and handed them to me.

“I still dont understand why you don’t like red roses…”

So I told him the list; they are so typical they are cliché, I don’t like tight buds, I can’t stand long stem roses or the contrived and standard arrangements with baby breath, I’m not fond of the color red, when they dry out the color reminds me of dried blood (I didn’t mention that dried blood makes me think of menstruation and injuries – both painful). I prefer other colors. PERIOD.50_roses

We continued to date. On my birthday I received several flower deliveries, one of which was a huge floral arrangement of long stem red roses with a single white rose in the middle. The card said Happy Birthday. Nothing more. No signature. I had no idea who they were from. At six that night I heard from the guy (I guess I could refer to him as my boyfriend but I never really did) I was seeing. We had plans to have dinner so I figured he was telling me he was running early or late or some such thing.

 

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“I’m seeing you in a few hours. Why would I call you.”

“To say you got the flowers.”

372_50-Red-and-white-roses-in-glass-vase-MRP-1500_products_large.jpg~c200“Oh, they were from you?” I said almost as a question.

“Of course they were from me.” He sounded annoyed with me.

“I had no idea who they were from. You didn’t sign the card.” What I wanted to say was, I told you on our first date I can’t stand red roses – especially long stem red roses!

“Who else would send you two dozen red roses?”

Christmas came and so did the same flowers. The same arrangement of long stem red roses with a single white rose in the center.

We had our first fight. The next day the long stem red rose arrangement arrived with the single white rose in the center. My girlfriends thought there must be something symbolic here about his love – like yellow roses are for friendship, red for love, white for purity. It must mean our love is pure they said wistfully. Oy, I hate that shit.

And then we celebrated our first Valentine’s Day together. He picked me up in his sports car. As I got in I could see the long white box in the back of the car. More roses – red with a single one no doubt. I was fuming. When he parked the car at the restaurant he leaned over and handed me the box with a stupid grin on his face.

“Happy Valentines Day. I got these for you.”

V-02

I looked at him and said,

“Thank you but you should know I cannot stand red roses. I told you that on our first date. It should have been obvious the first time you sent them to me. and then you sent them again and again and again. I’d honestly rather have nothing.”

He grabbed the box back from me, got out of the car, and handed them to the next woman who walked past. I heard him say to the stunned woman,

“Miss, Happy Valentines Day. Apparently my girlfriend doesn’t like long stem red roses. She’d like you to have these.”dead-roses

I had a good chuckle. However, he was not amused.

 

I broke up with him after dinner. Not because he gave my roses away – I had given every long stem arrangement he had ever given me away – to my housekeeper,  to the doorman for his wife,  to my neighbor and my mother. I broke up with him because he had no idea who I was.

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Put One Foot In Front of the Other

images-3Disappointment can be hard. Affairs of the heart can be particulary tough. Especially if you’re dating actively and it’s one disappointment after the next. In 2015 I had 106 dates. In 2016 I’ve already had eleven dates and it’s only February 2nd! (Full disclosure: of the eleven dates I have only had a second date with two – often my choice but sometimes not). Although each of the men I met were kind, interesting and polite, none of them were right for me. I found it discouraging to say the least. As much as I’d rather stay home and write, cook, paint or scroll around of Ebay, I decided it was a new year and a new me. I was not going to let a bad date, a bunch of average guys or a stalker (story coming soon) get me down. That’s when I met Peter.

images-4Peter lives in a tiny seaside community. He is in the fashion business. After a very high-profile and public divorce, he is very much single and alone -kids off at college and he doesnt even have a dog. Peter is clearly a man who likes to be part of a couple. We hit it off the first time we spoke on the phone. He’s a super interesting guy who has lived a bigger life than most of the men I’ve date this year combined. He was fun, comfortable, a breath of fresh air. Maybe sailing and walks on the beach have seeped into his pores. I hope I don’t sound like an overly optomistic woman (becuse I’m not!) but I have a feeling that he could be a great match for me. I certainly don’t want to be likehamptons2_1367233c a friend of mine who is constantly sure each and every man she dates is the perfect man for her. From overweight guys with mommy issues, to alcoholic attorneys to the guy with the lingerie fetish, I never saw anyone with her commitment to dating and her sunny disposition with each new guy. By the time the relationships were over, some in a matter of days and others in weeks or months, they were all asshole, scum or rotten bastards. There was never any grey or uncertainlty for her – it was all or nothing. Part of me feels like some of her is wearing off on me. Maybe if you’ve been in the dating game this long, and late in life, you need to trick your brain into believing the next man could be your next love or god forbid, your soul mate.

I’ve decided not to think about it too much. Enough analyzing myself, Just go out for god’s sake and give it your best shot. I hope I will have a good dating story for you soon. Keep on truckin’!

 

Finger Licking Good

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What is a deal breaker for you? This is what my neighbor and I were discussing over a bottle of wine there other night. I shared with her the details of a recent date at an upscale but casual French restaurant. My date was cute, had a good style about him, funny, smart, well-traveled and a Brit. He made me laugh more than I have in the entire month of January. Generallyshutterstock_26298190 speaking, I could see myself sleeping with this guy- a hot and heavy make out session at the very least. And then just  we were finishing up our meals, I looked over at his plate of quickly disappearing duck and I saw it. In a flash I saw the fingers from his left hand on his plate. They quickly pushed the bits and pieces from his Moroccan Tangine dinner onto his fork. The fork was held not the way it should be but low down on the handle half way between the tip of the tines and the top of the handle. You know, like a young child would hold a fork. I asked my friend how she felt about the fingers on the plate pushing the remnants of his meal on to his fork.

“Fingers on the plate? Nope. No way. Not acceptable.”

“What if you really liked him, he was hot and you thought the sex would be great?”

“Well then, he’d have to be a “stay in” guy not a guy you take out. You can’t take anyone out like that. Imagine if your family saw him eat like that?”

“He’s spent a lot of time in North Africa. Do you think that has anything to do with it?”holding-a-fork2

“He’s in America now. I’m guessing he knows the difference between eating in a hut or at a French restaurant.”

I had to agree with her.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I went on a date and the guy was licking his fingers?”

“No, which guy was it with?” I asked.

I think I told you about him, he had season tickets to the Clippers. We saw the game and went for a late dinner. And then he licked his fingers.”

“What did he have for dinner?”

“How the hell would I remember? He should have used his napkin!”images-2

“Well, I have to say if it were fried chicken or ribs I might have to let it slide.”

I didn’t tell my friend, but if I hear from the guy again. I think I’ll recommend going for Japanese on our next date. Perhaps he’s better with chopsticks…