Is Flirting Wrong?

Interesting conversation Thursday, well it was more of a debate. The topic: Flirting. Not the movie, the act. I took the stance (which I actually believe. I was not playing devil's advocate as I have done countless times in the past) that flirting is okay, harmless even. My opponent in this debate says flirting is not okay. Not for those in committed relationships anyway. To do so is emotional cheating. I will say that my opponent relented (as I am a formidable opponent and that I am not to be messed with...anyhow...)

Never one to back down from a good healthy debate, I maintained my stance. Flirting is fine and definitely not cheating! Having had a moment or two to actually think about it, I'm changing my stance; ever so slightly.

The definition of flirt: (v) 1. To make coyly romantic or sexual overtures. 2. To deal triflingngly with.

That explained, when flirting is being had (or done as the case may be) with definition number 1 in mind, for sure, you're crossing a line if you're in a committed relationship. When flirting is defined as definition number 2, no harm, no foul. The key: emotions! When you've developed an emotional attachment to someone who is not your significant other, you're going to have to say, at some point to your sig other: "I'm cheating," to some extent; cheating your spouse from your full emotional attention at the very least.

For example: I blogged about Mr. X in his blue Range Rover several weeks ago (Chance Encounters, I believe). Because I smile at Mr. X, I needn't confess to my spouse that I've cheated on him. There was no emotional attachment. It was a smile, pure and simple. Perhaps we made each other's day or at least an interesting anecdote. He certainly made my blog--twice now! Perhaps there is an emotional attachment!!!

Now, had I tossed my phone number through his open sun roof, complete with a smear of red lipstick and a steamy line about different ways we might fit in his rather large car, well then, yes, I need to check my motivations. But did I actually cheat?

Tough call. Any ideas?

********* I just want to note for the record one way or the other that the above example is completely fictional--it's what I do, I write fiction. That is all. *******

New Sheriff in Town

I haven't written awhile, lots going on, and I'm a bit under the weather. Nonetheless, I wanted to share a 'short' I wrote some time ago. Let me know your thoughts:

There she is again, Mrs. Q. Most days I'm not sure if I want to slap her or just hold her head in my arms and rock her, the poor thing; she's Jimmy's mother. That statement alone is enough to illicit tsks, ohs and knowing sighs amongst the mothers at the Tree Haven Montessori School. The teachers just look skyward, and some have developed facial ticks as a result of trying to raise Jimmy in the Montessori way.

Little Jimmy gives his mother fits every evening and every morning faithfully. He kicks and screams when he's asked to take off his out door shoes and put on his indoor shoes. And like clockwork, he screams and kicks when he has to actually do it. This is all I ever really see of Jimmy's antics, but I've been assured these are rather tame compared to what goes on in the classroom.


Mrs. Q averts her gaze from the other mothers as she follows Jimmy up and down the hallway as he goes through his evening ritual of touching every blue square in the building. I want to get her attention, grab her by the collar tell her to wipe that pursed lip tense look off her face and take control. Perhaps it's my own little fantasy I engage in where she tells that pissant to straighten up and fly right or she's going to smack his little fanny so hard he's going to feel it in his teeth. The fantasy turns more real as I hear a voice: "You've been giving me crap since you turned three--well after the terrible twos. Who gave you the right to turn your card in late? You're three and a half and you no longer have the luxury of using that particular trump card. Nosiree Bob...Jimmy your nonsense days are over. There's a new sherrif in town, I tell you, and she's not taking your crap a moment more! Put your outside shoes and your coat on and go get in the car!"

I look back at Mrs. Q standing in the middle of the hall and she's looking directly at me, and for once the manic look isn't on her face, instead there's the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth as Jimmy abandons the blue square game and sullenly pulls his coat on. He heads to the front door wordlessly. I wonder if I imagined those words being said to him, or if I somehow spoke them aloud, or if the thoughts in my mind have been projected somehow.

The owner of the voice, however, comes around the corner, and to my horror, it's my five year old daughter, Charla, holding her head high with pride, marching over to me-- beaming no less. "I told him mommy! I really gave it to Jimmy they way you and Mrs. X say he needs it. And look, it's working just like you said it would."

A film of sweat completely covers my body from head to toe, despite the cool winter breeze coming in from the open door where Jimmy stands, now waiting for his mother, his blue square touching game interrupted, perhaps for good. I try to formulate some sort of apology, as every pair of eyes, large and small are watching me.

"Oh Mrs. Q, I'm...was just...I'm so... I never intended...

I'm interrupted, "Let's go mommy my work here is done," the sheriff says, tugging at my coat.

Mrs. Q walks in my direction, as I alone stand between her and her son. She ever so lightly squeezes my arm, "Good night to you and the sheriff," she says as she turns back and winks at my daughter, who by the way is still beaming with pride.

"Goodnight Mrs. Q. Drive safely," Charla says, waving. After she passes, Charla points her finger at Jimmy in a threatening way, enjoying her new found power.

On the Side

I don’t think I’ve shared my other love, the one on the side. If yoga is my true love (falling behind Blythe of course), well then, reflexology is my side thing. That said, blogging about reflexology here seems, well…wrong, and we all know that wrong can sometimes be so right.

Friday, I went to the Urban Oasis and met Brend (German, pronounced ‘Bent’). Brend would be my masseuse for the afternoon, and he immediately got to the business of finding out what exactly I knew about reflexology, so we spoke before we got into things under the sheets (stop it…massage my dears).

He praised my knowledge of reflexology, claiming “most people just think it’s a foot massage. You know well…” he exclaimed, clearly pleased. I assured him that I am a long time fan of the marvels of reflexology. Later, he commented on how tight my hips were. Defensively, I explained that I was practicing yoga to address the issue. He praised this too…one sure way of securing a nice tip!

Ever the professional, Brend touched my shoulders, concentrating on the right one which he noticed would need a lot of attention (hello!). I told him about my five-year bout with shoulder pain, and he said the most interesting thing: “we all hold a lot of tension there—it’s where our wings were clipped before falling to Earth…” It’s his little theory. I’d had my own theory, which has been sufficiently tossed aside for this more beautiful and thought provoking one. I’d never heard that before, and I’ve never had anyone zero in on the pain so expertly.

As Brend bounded on the bed for an added bonus, a hip stretch, that I sorely needed, he said, “Don’t be alarmed ahn-Dray-ah, I’m going to join you on the bed…” (as if I’d even given pause—he had me at the wing clipping theory!) We concluded after what felt like days and I left sated, feeling taller, less stressed and convinced that I’ll have to treat myself more often to Brend—I mean reflexology and massage. He asked what I would like to drink, post massage, and I replied green tea. He smiled and nodded, another wise choice and such a wise young lady.

In the recovery room, what was left for me was a tropical green tea, its citrus fun scent, tantalizing the entire room. Tropical green tea is my favorite, but I hadn’t expressed that to Brend, he just knew…the way we’d like all men to ‘just know.’

This blog is dedicated to Brend (Bent!), who single handedly (pun intended) reinvigorated my spine and acted as the conduit to my other love. Perhaps reflexology and massage are soulmates, no?

Push It

I have always wanted to be one of those drivers who will flash their headlights to warn a fellow driver that ‘the man’ is on the prowl, beware. A rebel at heart, I long to be on the other end of the law as they say, in some hopefully small, insignificant way.

Haven’t you been driving along the street, road, expressway, no one in front of you, no one behind you, and you’re presented with an opportunity to take command of the road— as I haven’t in so long—how far can you push it while listening to ‘Push It’? (by Garbage and if you don’t know, let me tell you…great driving song) Anyhow, I’ve been on the receiving end of the benevolent ‘warning,’ and I have slowed in response to the flickering brights, only to find he boys in blue about a half mile ahead, radar poised. I usually treat myself to lunch, as I suddenly find myself eighty dollars richer as a result of my good fortune.

Is there a secret code that explains how to let others know that a radar-toting cop is in your immediate path? And who started it anyway? I always feel like a stranger to this fraternity (as it’s always been men who have alerted me so effortlessly). I want to give back, I feel I should give back as I have been a recipient of good will on several occasions;-) I know what you’re thinking…Andrea, just slow down for goodness sake and you have a point, but monumental changes to personality take time, I’m working on it, but until then…

So, I gave it a try this week, flashing my brights at an oncoming car—I was so proud of myself (naughty girl!) I don’t know if the oncoming car heeded my warning, or thought me rude to flash him, but I did my part, as part of a new fraternity. I’m spurned on to do more good deeds for my fellow drivers.

Police beware…

Asleep in 0.2 Seconds

There is nothing more amazing or mesmerizing than watching Blythe fall off to sleep. Most nights (when there's been not chocolate consumed or we've not had a wild night of 'tag, you're it'-- my life has changed so much...oops, digression)

Anyhow, most nights, Blythe can lie down and fall asleep in 0.2 seconds. Even if she awakes in the middle of the night, run to my room and climb in bed with me, she will fall right off, and I'm left clocking exactly how long it took her to fall into her deep slumber. After 0.2 seconds, I'm up for the next hour or so, reluctant to take a sleep aid (it's usually 3:30 or so when I awake with time on my hands!). Meditation is out of the question because I'm too focused on trying to fall asleep so after about an hour of trying on my own, I pull out my old stand-by: a book so boring (who's title I will not divulge as I would CRY if I ever saw my novels attached to the words sleep-aid). So I pullout the old stand-by, and guess what? I'm usually out in about 0.2 seconds.

Any other good sleep-aids out there?

Back to the Basics

This weekend, the only classes available were ‘Yoga I,’ a more basic form of yoga, intended for novices and those of us who do not want to take Yoga II, I suppose. Being true to my nature, I am a competitive person, so I typically stick with the Yoga II classes. I like challenging myself, and pushing to my limits…too much sometimes.

A challenge wouldn’t be in effect this past weekend (or so I thought!), as I was unavailable for my class of preference. I decided to take the Yoga I class anyway. I’m glad I did. I had a wonderful session (with Amy) where I was able to focus on my poses, my form and my own reaction to the practice. I found it very refreshing as I stretched fully into Warrior Two, took chair deeper than usual, my arms straighter than typical in my Yoga II class. I was even able to hold my balance longer in Half Moon Pose, reflecting inwardly as I held my foot in dandasana.

Shavasana was wonderful, needless to say. I suppose I just needed to get back to basics, and change things up a bit now that I’m out of my slump. I highly recommend stepping out of your comfort level and shaking things up (or stretching things out as the case may be).

Novel Novels

Update on the novel novels, as I like to call them:

HER ESSENCE: waiting to hear back from two agents who requested the manuscript. Can’t wait, chomping at the bit…keep good, positive, successful thoughts going.

Taming Roland: 20,000 words, pp 75 (nice progress no?!)

About Bryant: 12,000 words, pp 45 (slower going, but in a nice groove with TR)

Identified a few contest to enter. Will keep you all updated on this as well.

Feedback from reader 1: ‘Taming Roland’ “I couldn’t put it down. It captured my attention from the very beginning, and I knew I was going to get into it….It was very real.”

Good new huh!!! I’m working on not caring what others think of my work, but perhaps that will come after I’m published several times. Smile!

Yoga practice continues to improve…thankfully. Things are good on all fronts.

Interesting Thoughts About Soulmates

I've received a few email messages about my little blog on soulmates. I'll share a few: One person wanted to know what you should do if you meet your soulmate POST marriage. Another thinks we're entitled to more than one soulmate (how fun would that be?) And still another didn't believe in soulmates, and believes it's just an excuse to not commit (mostly for men). My personal favorite: You have to be complete yourself in order to recognize that you've met your soulmate. (HERE,HERE!)

My thoughts and just my thoughts: I think it would be extremely difficult to awake one day and discover the man (or woman) you married isn't the one (whether or not you've met 'the one'), but I'm no marriage counselor and that's a sticky one. I think it would be great to have more than one soulmate, perhaps, as you grow and develop, so does your soul and thus the need for a new soulmate, should your current not advance as quickly as you. Still, the romantic in me believes in just one. A man who doesn't want to commit, doesn't need the excuse of you not being his soulmate...the writing's on the wall. Does anyone else have thoughts on the topic?

OVERHEARD: "I always want to know who's going to be in attendance at dinner parties. I make sure the hostess seats me next to a writer or a salesperson. For guaranteed fun, I say sit yourself right in the middle of them."

Soul Mates or Soulmates?

Is there any such thing as a soul mate? If you type it as one word, you get that red squiggle tell-tell, that calls out a mistyped word, and thus soulmate is not recognized as a word.

But separately, they work: soul mate; no red squiggle. Isn't the idea behind a soul mate, something about destiny bringing two separate people together as one, as if they were fated, destined to be together, coming together in a chance encounter that changes their lives forever? One half of the other, completing one another in some movie-dramatic type way?

I have a theory that something has to be the same between two people (and no, both of you having two legs, arms and eyes won't count) but something significant. Most typically, I think it's the eyes (similar shape, or color), perhaps it's your name (Ryan and Rian for instance), your personal cause, your love of (fill in the blank) that connects you. Whatever it is, I think you know immediately upon meeting(sometimes before you know what links you) and you can do one of two things: run screaming, or embrace it (as if you'll escape it--you are soul mates for gosh sakes!There is no escape.)

So, starting today, I will be linking the two words that so belong with one another and proclaiming to the world that the word is spelled: soulmates! May you be with, or find yours, soon.

Best,
Andrea

So Much to Say

To everyone in the Chicago land area, or at least the northern suburbs of Chicago: I offer my most sincere apology for the snow we seem to be experiencing. Yes, I broke down and got a pedicure. I couldn't help it! When I wrote about not getting one until April, I completely forgot the dinner function thingy I had to attend yesterday. I had to get a pedicure because I was wearing strappy shoes- no hose. Please forgive me.

Anyhow, there is just so much to tell you, such an odd and fabulous weekend for Alyssa, Eva, (HER ESSENCE) Marla and Amanda (Taming Roland: can't be all caps until it's finished, my personal incentive). The first thing I need to discuss is this idea of fear.

Today's practice started out like the others, tough. I felt like I couldn't hold the poses, so I pulled out my bag of tricks: take off my jacket and get back in to down dog, stretch and splay my fingers to show others that I may have injured myself which is why I couldn't hold plank any longer, you know the games we play. Anyhow when we got to chaturanga (I've spoken of this pose before see: January 31st) and we held it for what felt like minutes, Amy (perhaps hip to my stalling tactics) very bluntly stated: "There's a difference between pulling back because of pain and pulling back because you quit. Don't give up, hold the pose and experience it."

Amy has gained my favor in large part due to her no non-sense approach to teaching yoga which I so appreciate! Anyhow, that is exactly what I needed to hear to snap me out of my slump. So I held chaturanga, down dog and plank more times than I care to remember and for longer than I can say because it felt like actual minutes which it couldn't have been, but I did it. And right there at some point as I pushed through the pain, I had an epiphany of sorts: this self-induced funk I've been experiencing and writing about lately was just my not wanting to push through, or maybe not believing that I could. But then, writing is sometimes like that (lonely with no one to give you that encouragement, that is with a good boss which is as elusive as...well, I digress. I guess that's why I'm blogging in the first place...that encouragement thing and it was a suggestion from a friend). I just knew shavasna was going to be interesting today.

At the end of the class, we prepared for shavasna and I'll admit, I went into it a bit afraid of where my mind might go, perhaps fearful of learning something I didn't think I was prepared to learn just yet, but I engaged anyway. And nothing happened. No popping in my chest, no ear pulling, no elephant sitting on my forehead sensation. Nothing happened until Amy recited a few words she'd jotted down just for class, yoga knowledge I like to call it.

I can’t recall all of it (didn't have my notebook), but she spoke about moving away from fear and how fear can stunt growth and create small minds (all things I know). She ended with: "may you know what to ask of yourself, until you do, you'll never find your answers. Amy was two for two." It was just what I needed to hear, or rather face at that precise moment.

It threw me into this fury of thoughts that I knew I had to jot down when I got to the car. I didn’t have my notebook (another story for another time as you know, I never leave home without it...I DID have my coat in the car I'm happy to report as it is snowing!) but I did have pen and paper, so I wrote all my ideas as they came to me on the drive home, and yes, safely.

Ideas and thoughts just flowed and thus a new twist in the completed HER ESSENCE (nothing too drastic, but just a beautiful idea that will without doubt enhance it. I can't believe I hadn't thought of it before now!) And as for Marla, yikes! Insights that were there on paper, but not linked, until now. So here's a thought: perhaps writing and yoga are supposed to be joined at least for me, dependent in order to put you in touch with the only person who's going to really encourage you best (and when I say you, I mean me). And perhaps I'm letting go of a bit of my own fear. I'm telling you all, all of this now aren't I? Sometimes I can't believe this journey--so eager to see where it leads.

Lovely Compliment

I received a wonderful email the other day from someone who'd read my blog and emailed me in error. She took the time to write back and compliment me on my blog, especially the book excerpts. She said, and I quote: "Enjoyed reading your book excerpt. Hope you get it published soon!...You obviously have a gift of words."

Naturally, I was thrilled, wanting and needing that little boost of confidence every blue moon (was the moon blue this week? Must have been!)

This reminds me of a recent blog I stumbled upon back in January and felt compelled to write the author (Hey, Laure!). I'd never done that before, but I understand her enthusiasm at my response (as my response was equally enthusiastic). This writing thing is a very individual and lonely place. It's very different from Corporate America (my former life)in that there is no instant validation. It's a very different place. It makes you rely on you and only you to write the best, most authentic piece you can. The person judging the piece is you (at first, and then there are the numerous agents you're trying to entice, and then publishers and then book reviewers...the list goes on...) but in the beginning, it's just you.

It's very much the same way with yoga, group yoga anyway (as that is my only reference). It's just you and the instructor, who may issue direction, but it's up to you to feel out what that pose means to you, it's up to you to know when to pull back or push through a pose or just take child's pose (those who practice yoga, know what I'm talking about). Yoga really is all about you. As is writing. I love that! I never plan to stop...either.

Speaking of yoga, practice was still difficult Friday. Today was okay, but I could only stick around for half the class (perhaps why it was less difficult???)Really good progress on both books, Roland and Bryant. I've written several pages over the last few days. Will give official update a bit later.

Best,
Andrea

March is Here!

I'm so glad March is here...which means that Spring is right around the corner. So Spring is a time of renewal, a time of newness, and hope. How wonderful! Still, I will not get my first manicure until April...that is just the way in Chicago. I'm always fooled by the first warm days, and then it snows and my pedicure goes unseen and inevitably, it gets warm and my toes are a mess. But I digress.

Yesterday's yoga class was difficult. There's no way around it. I hadn't practiced since Saturday, but that couldn't possible be it. I will practice tomorrow, so I'll keep you posted whether or not it was the same.

I guess I'm just stalling for time...I let someone read Taming Roland, my first reader. Just to update y'all, it's sometimes helpful to have an unbiased reader early in the project to give you feedback (hopefully honest). So I've done that. I can't wait to hear back (which won't be until Tuesday, so please send me patience via osmosis). I made all my co-workers read early renditions of HER ESSENCE (back when it was The Space Between). More nervous about this one.

Giving someone your first early draft is more intense than anything I've experienced, and nothing compares to it. Well, maybe something, but this is a family blog, so I'll leave it at that.

I've identified a reader for About Bryant. I'll keep you posted on the progress on both...and the feedback. If my readers are reading this...no pressure...I promise.