Archive | October, 2011

Defining Mr. and Mrs. Right

31 Oct

As we approach cuddle season- also known as winter or oddly foggy and rainy season for Southern Californians- I’ve noticed some thangs.

I’ve noticed people commenting that Halloween is a chance for folks to secure their winter cuddle-buddy by indulging their dark alter egos for a night.

More importantly, I’ve noticed profound statements of love:

Lover’s reunions after decades and continents apart; Friends leaping in faith and courage and airplanes to pursue a life of love together; Marriages blooming as families grow; Unexpected soulmates committing to marriage ; Lasting relationships deepening, refreshing, renewing, growing.

As I revel in this glorious love fest on Monday, October 31st which happens to be Halloween and a week before my 32nd birthday, it highlights another thang.

There really are a lot of folk out there.

Good folk.

Men folk.

Women folk.

Folk who are smart, good-looking, healthy, kind, and arguably sane.  Some are all relationshiptondoned up.  Some are flying solo and sanguine.  Fine and skippy all around.

Awesome.

So of course this begs the question: In the midst of all these folk, how do you define Mr. or Mrs. Right?  As in, folk for folk to fall magically in unicorn-land love with.

There are many catchy sound bites answering the question of what defines Mr. or Mrs. Right:

  • Be the kind of person you would want to fall in love with.
  • Hold out for intense, butterfly-filled love.
  • Love yourself fully before you love another.
  • If they’re willing to wait for you, it can last forever.
  • If you let them go and they come back, they were and always will be yours.
  • If they get along with their mom, they’re a keeper.
  • If babies like them, they’re a keeper.
  • If puppies and kittens and other young mammals like them, they’re a keeper.

In my opinon, the messages that sum it up best, are about a woman who is everything a woman could be… And conversely what a man should be.  Check it out:

An accomplished woman, who can find? Her value is far beyond pearls.

Her husband’s heart relies on her and he shall lack no fortune. 

She does him good and not evil, all the days of her life.
She seeks wool and flax, and works with her hands willingly.
She is like the merchant ships, she brings her bread from afar.
She arises while it is still night, and gives food to her household and a portion to her maidservants.
She plans for a field, and buys it. With the fruit of her hands she plants a vineyard.
She girds her loins in strength, and makes her arms strong.
She knows that her merchandise is good. Her candle does not go out at night.
She sets her hands to the distaff, and holds the spindle in her hands.
She extends her hands to the poor, and reaches out her hand to the needy.
She fears not for her household because of snow, because her whole household is warmly dressed.
She makes covers for herself, her clothing is fine linen and purple.
Her husband is known at the gates, when he sits among the elders of the land.
She makes a cloak and sells it, and she delivers aprons to the merchant.
Strength and honor are her clothing, she smiles at the future.
She opens her mouth in wisdom, and the lesson of kindness is on her tongue.
She watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children rise and praise her, her husband lauds her.
Many women have done worthily, but you surpass them all.
Charm is deceptive and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears God shall be praised.
Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.

And for our gents:

My son, if you accept my words and store up my commands within you, 
turning your ear to wisdom and applying your heart to understanding— 
indeed, if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding, 
and if you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure, 
then you will understand the fear of the LORD and find the knowledge of God. 

For the LORD gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding. 


He holds success in store for the upright, he is a shield to those whose walk is blameless, for he guards the course of the just and protects the way of his faithful ones.

Then you will understand what is right and just and fair—every good path. 
For wisdom will enter your heart, and knowledge will be pleasant to your soul. 
Discretion will protect you, and understanding will guard you.

Wisdom will save you from the ways of wicked men, from men whose words are perverse, who have left the straight paths to walk in dark ways, who delight in doing wrong and rejoice in the perverseness of evil, whose paths are crooked and who are devious in their ways.

Wisdom will save you also from the adulterous woman, from the wayward woman with her seductive words, who has left the partner of her youth and ignored the covenant she made before God.[a] 


Surely her house leads down to death and her paths to the spirits of the dead. 
None who go to her return or attain the paths of life.

Thus you will walk in the ways of the good and keep to the paths of the righteous. 

For the upright will live in the land, and the blameless will remain in it; 
but the wicked will be cut off from the land, and the unfaithful will be torn from it.

There you have it.  Mr. Right is a wise, discerning, strong, ethical, faithful compassionate leader.  Mrs. Right is a wise, diligent, beautiful, successful, faithful, kind leader.

Doesn’t that make things simple?

Thanks proverbs.

Kittens and puppies and cuteness, oh my!

27 Oct

This is Bubba.

I have a problem. Okay 99 and kittens are one.

Okay, five problems.

Well, more than that.

But specifically, five kittens that present a problem.

How could kittens ever present a problem for me when they are all things rainbow and sweetness and light and love that is right in the world besides babies and martinis and sunshine and puppies and butterflies and champagne?

Well.

They are the most adorable, personality-filled, hilarious, healthy, energetic little guys ever… And I don’t want to let them go.

I’ve managed to delude myself into thinking keeping two of the kittens is reasonable when it’s clearly not.  Somehow, parting with three, as opposed to all five of them seems feasible to get over in an acceptable period of time. Otherwise, I fear there might be some serious post-partum-kitten distress disorder.

That would look like equal parts sadness:

I want my kittens!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Anger:

Eff you. Why'd you take my $#%@ kittens yo?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Crazy:

Was that a kitten ghost? Don't touch me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And drunk.

I'll just drown my sorrows. Zzzzzzzzzzzzz

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A sad, angry, crazy, drunk Tina is not something the world  ever needs to be introduced to.

Today, I’m going to share why these kittens are so flippin’ awesome.

Partly because it will help in the grieving (yes, I said grieving) process that I’ve already embarked upon… Partly in hopes it might inspire a new parent who I can then secure visitation rights with.

By the by, if you’re considering adopting, my love nugget has defined terms of custody as inclusive of twitter feeds and facebook pages, which I think is a bit much.  We’ll see.

Mind you, they were born into a fiasco: http://tinawatkins.wordpress.com/2011/08/02/kitten-scavenger-hunt/

Six or so weeks after that, we lost their adorable mother Little Scruffy on the family camping trip, which was more than mildly depressing.  And meant we had to wean them onto solid foods.  And by wean I don’t mean gradually introduce, I mean immediately shift them to meat baby foods.

Which might have been easier if they didn’t love the stuff.  Instead, they were very much like a team of rabid kitten crackheads with talons and sharp teeth going after the hard stuff.

They slammed their faces into it, nearly suffocating themselves, and fought like fiercely wronged four year old kindergarten girls in a slap-boxing match.

I never would have thought I’d witness a kitten pimp-slap, sucker-punch, or clothesline another kitten so intentionally before.  We quickly decided to spoon-feed them instead, which was all at once way over the top, adorable and challenging.

That said, these, are the profiles of the five cutest kittens I’ve ever seen.

Pirate:

Pirate, the trailblazer is in a boot.

So named because he has a black patch over his eye (and a perfect one on his hind paw.)  Otherwise a beautiful calico, he is the trailblazer of the group.  The first to open his eyes, walk, run, fight, eat, purr.  Also the first to begin taking flying leaps four times his body height off the couch that used to be in their room.  Definitely the fearless leader of the pack, but also very sweet, as opposed to the Conans, as I’ll explain.  He never resists when picked up, and quickly begins to purr when petted.  When eating, he would calmly lick the spoon and didn’t need the Hannibal Lecter-style restraints called for with some of the others.

Bubba:

Bubba's a tad slow.

 

All grey from head to toe, Bubba is certainly a striking kitten.  But we’ve always been a tad concerned:  He was last at everything and began as the fattest of the bunch.  He’s grown into a rather lanky, awkward fella.   More greyhound than grey kitten.  For a while we were convinced he might be blind or anosmic.  Then we realized, much like a really nonchalant, fat, half-drunk trucker he just wasn’t pressed.  So we named him Bubba.  He purrs on sight.

Mahatma the Mountainclimber:

Mahatma in mid-climb: He made it all the way to the neck.

 

The other calico of the group, he was the most peaceful of all.  Never struggled when picked up, sat calmly when fed, never ran or fought or chased other kittens.  If you get him anywhere near your face he will ever so gently and tear-jerking hallmark-card cutely try to lick your nose.  He loves to climb things but doesn’t discern between appropriate and inappropriate climbing material.  A dress, jeans, bare skin or cage all get the leap, sink your claws in and cling for dear life from him.

The Conans:

The last two are the biggest, and look very similar with grey and white stripes. When feeding, they went absolutely psycho-crazy, forcing us to wrap all but their heads in towels as a restraint to avoid them clawing and smacking the food everywhere but into their mouths.  They are also the most effective bullies of the bunch.  Picky eaters, both have perfected the art of shoving and holding other kitten’s faces in the ground while they alone eat from the bowl peacefully.  We decided to name them Conan the Barbarian and Conan the Destroyer.

Conan the Barbarian:

This is the fattest of the bunch by far.  As much as he bullies the other kittens, he is an absolute ball of cuddly love whenever you pick him up.

Conan the Barbarian: Don't be fooled by the cuteness.

Conant the Destroyer: The world is mine, kittens. Ha.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Arguably one of the cutest of all the kittens, Conan the Destroyer just loves trouble.  He fights other kittens constantly, and loves play-attacking you as well.  He dominates the second food bowl.  Destroyer seemed fitting.

Sigh.

There you have it.  The cutest kittens of all time.  They love playing with corks, paper, earrings, and ribbons.  They used to love playing with a rather noisy ball with a bell in it that I’ll be confiscating, since kitten soccer tournaments run from 4am to 7:30am.

I love them and have decided Pirate and Conan the Barbarian will stay with me.  But I will miss them all.  Some body please, please, take Conan the Destroyer, Mahatma, and Bubba.

Please.

Dating decoded

13 Oct

Date.

It’s a simple four letter word with a simple meaning: An appointment for a particular time, (esp with a person to whom one is sexually or romantically attached).  Yet, somehow all sorts of hotmessdedness follows.

Friendships go down in flames of unrequited passion.  Businesses fizzle as harassment cases fly.  Relationships explode as cheating bombs are dropped.

All because of confusion about what does or doesn’t constitute a date.  Let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away…  A long, long time ago…

There was a young woman who had a job.  At this job, she had coworkers. Among her coworkers was a man. An older man. An attractive man.  One day this man offered to bring her lunch.  She accepted.  Another day he invited her to go to lunch.  She accepted. Another day he asked her to go to dinner.  She accepted. This continued.  One day, he called her desk from his office.  He asked her if they could meet.  They sat down in the conference room.  He proceeded to talk for a long while.  Then she proceeded to respond for a shorter while.  Then he asked, “Are you breaking up with me?”  

The young woman looked at him and replied, “I didn’t know we were dating.”

Le sigh.

One of the reasons dating is easily confused is that it’s essentially an innocuous appointment.  And then there’s that (esp with a person to whom one is sexually or romantically attached) part.   That element is not easily defined.

What makes it tougher, is if you’re a really really awesome and honest person who’s totally in love it’s easy to actually turn down your radar for this stuff. Meaning, you’re so focused on and committed to your love nugget and the beauty of your love-fest, the last thing on your mind is whether any one else is relevant.  ’Cause they aren’t.  ’Till they are.

To help with this, relationshiptons typically agree to do things that keep them from running around bumping  hearts and tripping over broken pieces.  In a loving, trust-filled, committed relationship boundaries are pretty easy to agree on.

Almost every time, it’s some extrapolation on the simple agreement to be truthful.

That’s it.  Said a gajillion different ways, hopefully not beginning with “Thou shalt not.”

With trust comes the understanding that you won’t know everything all the time and don’t have to…  And the vulnerability of accepting the risk that something will happen you don’t like, which is ok.

The beautiful danger is, real trust leaves tons of room for error.

By definition, neither of you are worried about the possible outcome because you love-birds have each other’s best interests in mind, hearts in love, glittery butterflies flitting.

One day all is well and the next you’re both trying to figure out what the heck possessed you to think it was ok to find yourself on the third, second or even first date with so-and-so.

Sometimes it just ain’t clear.

Let’s adjust our lenses and get the low hanging fruit out of the way first.  These are all the fairly obvious signs you’re doing a little more than the average friend would, and are probably filling in the parentheses after the appointment definition of date.

When alone with a man or woman who ain’t yours, you can be more than 90% certain it’s a date:

  • If either one of you is sexually attracted to the other.  (If you don’t know, heaven help you and your significant other.)
  • If you ain’t told your love-nugget about it or they don’t know where you are.
  • If whatever you’re doing is an exclusive ritual you look forward to.
  • If it takes up a lot of your time.
  • If you’re traveling somewhere fah, a long long way from home.
  • If you’re going somewhere at night.
  • If you plan to pick them up at home.
  • If you’re doing something with lots of real couples (weddings, romantic restaurants, work functions, etc.)
  • When one of you pays for everything.
  • When you dress up extra goo-it.
  • If you feel compelled to play the we’rejustfriends card.

I know.  You’ve totally done some of this, right?  No worries.  Finding yourself in one of these situations doesn’t mean you’ve been untruthful, or done anything wrong.

Now, if at some point two months from now you’re still bumbling around among the rotten apples, that’s a different thang.  So those are the easy signs.

Then it gets murky…

There are some not-date scenarios where there’s a 50/50 chance it’s a date in disguise.  These are the fuel of a million classic moments where relationshiptons try to figure out how they missed the signs.

Some tips you are in fact on a date whether you intended to be or not:

First of all, any time you find yourself flirting in a way you wouldn’t if your man/woman were there, it has become a date.  Check yo’self fo you wreck yo’self.

Daytime one-on-one  (Lunches, brunches, beaches etc.) 

Date flags: Deeply intimate conversation is had.  You completely lose track of time.  Whatever y’all are doing makes passers-by assume you’re a couple and comment accordingly.  No matter how close you are, this is love-nugget land. If you think this is ok, do you.  Don’t call me to cry after the break-up.

Out with a mixed bunch of friends (movies/concert/beach, game night, etc.).

Date flags: Basically any time the group becomes background chorus line for your solo mission.  For example, finding a reason to carpool with a particular man/woman.  Spending more time with them than anyone else. Checking-in on each other for drink refills, food, comfort etc.  If you’re out with friends there should be balance… Why else are you leaning so hard?

Work meeting (conference/drinks/dinner/etc).  This is particularly tricky, because it’s safe to assume you can bend the low-hanging fruit rules. For example, spending a lot of time together,  dinners, traveling, etc. all ok.

Date flags:  You aren’t dressed for work (or depending on your line of work, the opposite.)  You say or do things inappropriate for your work environment (or depending on your line of work, the opposite.)  There is heavy drinking involved. You spend more time talking about stuff that isn’t work than stuff that is.

Great. Now what?

Most of the time, you won’t know until you’re already in the middle of it.  Yep, we just laid out a million ways to make mistakes you can’t prevent, take back, or feel bad about.

So what can you do?

Simple.

Truth.

Be honest, truly honest with yourself. Be honest, truly honest with your love-nugget.

If it turns out one of the above scenarios has been on instant reply in your life, one or both of you will recognize it.

Then comes the fun part.

You get to love it out.

;)

When they reminisce over you…

11 Oct Indeed...


Indeed...

I’ve grown up in LA and lived on the same street all my life.  Went to elementary, secondary schools and college in Southern California.  That said, traveling is definitely my thing: New York, New Jersey, Boston, Cambridge, Connecticut, Philadelphia, Atlanta, Michigan, Chicago, Denver, New Orleans, Las Vegas, Arizona, San Francisco, Maui, Oahu, Hawaii, Tijuana, Seattle, Canada, Italy, Paris, London…

In between that travel my rootedness sees my closest friends and family come and go: Chicago, New York, San Francisco, London, Texas.

Maybe for that reason…

Maybe because I trust that when my phenomenal friends  make life-changing decisions, it will be the absolute best thing that could ever happen to them…

Probably because the more strategically placed pals the better my travel options…

I don’t get all fussy about them leaving.  Ok, I’m a crier. And obviously sentimental.  Not gonna lie.  But you’ll get no resistance from me, only a swift self-invite to crash yo’ spot.

Or, in this case a little trip down memory lane.

Cue blubbering, tissue, and impossible Tyler-Perry snot close up please.

A of tons:

You make me smile and giggle.  You give it to me straight.  We’ve shared many a dance floor, many a tear, many a riotous laughing fit together. Lazy afternoon brunches, picnics on the beach, dinners under the stars. We’ve eaten better together than many ever dream, blessed with impossibly, glamorous, exciting, simple fun.  You are intensity, joy, silliness, light, directness, humility, love.  Languid days in Palm Springs, Venice Beach, Downtown LA, Laguna Niguel, Santa Monica, Watts, Culver City, Inglewood, Manhattan Beach, Hollywood…

E of tons:

You make me laugh and roll my eyes.  You give it to me straight, too (surprise, surprise.) We’ve shared many a drink, countless events, friends, and family.  Hilarious game and karaoke nights, debates, ski trips, and random moments.  Our incredible friendship reflects, builds, and uplifts the most divine versions of ourselves.  You are strength, power, vision, spontaneity, style, comedy.  Whirlwind of fun all over Los Angeles, New York, Vegas celebrating life and the love of true friends and family.

You two.

Your advice is invaluable.  Your no-holds-barred, all or nothing approach to life and love inspires me.  I love you both, partly for different reasons and am tickled that I love you for the same reasons:

You are both clear, decisive, determined, fun-loving, self-aware, amazing, brilliant, powerful, charming, charismatic people who know exactly who you are and revel in it proudly.

Thank you for changing my life.  It’s time to make memories in a new place.

I will not miss you, because as mentioned, them self-invites are on the way.

Let the record reflect I’m thinking July 5th.

Holla.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…

6 Oct

I LOVE Christmas.  People are finally nicer to each other for no good reason as they always should be.  There are random songs, signs and promotions about love, joy, peace, and happiness.  There is an overabundance of food and friendly gathering and spicy, strong drinks.  There are sparkly, pretty glittering decorations on bumpers and counters and offices and heads.  If it were a summertime holiday it might actually be the manifestation of Tina-land on Earth.

Every year, I buy friends, family, coworkers and myself (yes, myself) gifts.  I pop up my tree and decorations and do ridiculously wonderful seasonal things like lighting the fire when it’s still 75 degrees in LA, and playing “Let it Snow.”

Every year, my family and friends lovingly make fun of me for talking about Christmas (as I am right now) before Halloween.

Every year, as summer ends it’s like I step on a banana-peel of busy time and land on a greased slide that dumps me into January of the following year.  I came up happy and sputtering for air, trying to make sense of it all.

This year, I’m staring down the banana peel.  Yes, it has eyes.

Angry little beady ninja-banana-navy-seal-Christmas-Fairy eyes twinkling with holiday glee.

I can see it, and the trail of apple-cinnamon-winter-scented oil leading down that slide.  And I am determined not to go for the okie-doke again.  With at least two trips, hair and freckle counting, four family gatherings, two classes, kitten obsession, more than 15 social events, gift-wrapping, near-certain work intensity, church, excessive holiday caroling, blogging, and breathing (approximately 130,000 breaths as a matter o’ fact)… (Phew!)

It’s important to slow down long enough to savor, really enjoy each moment and I’m getting an inkling that may happen increasingly less.

So.

As a result of my exceptionally shallow and unscientific analysis, I have arrived at the solution.  If I just start Christmas NOW, I’ll stop racing toward it at top speed.  Yes? YAYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!

Ok.

Maybe not. (Pouting.)

Instead a hefty dose of planning and careful commitment consideration will take hold.  I will plan for unplanned time.  And for free time garsh-darnit. Tina-dates will abound.  And silliness.

(Singing) Hang all the mistletoe, I’m gonna get to know you better… This Christmas.

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