The master spoke of the groom’s character and fortitude, of lessons taught and practiced, but it wasn’t until he spoke his final words of wisdom that things really hit home. He turned to the new groom, a third degree black belt, and in a slow, deliberate I-know-everything-about-everything zen master voice said “you need only remember one simple thing in order to ensure a long, prosperous married life together: always, no matter what, treat your wife as if she were a fourth degree black belt.” This got a chuckle. And got me thinking.
So often we trudge through life and never take the time to share our own pearls of wisdom. And what good are pearls if you don’t show them off? (Yes, ladies, we are still talking about advice here.) So here goes, one Blonde’s free advice for all those who will listen. Er, read.
ï If it scares you, do it. This is the only way to grow.
ï Write your goals down. Revisit the list often and with enthusiasm.
ï There are only two ways to get over a guy. Exercise or Eat.
ï If you don’t love you, no one else will.
ï Love isn’t supposed to make sense. The sooner you realize that the better.
ï Checklists are good for goals, bad for guys.
ï Being underestimated is a gift. Unwrap cheerfully.
ï Regret is a waste of time. Learn and move on.
ï If you don’t like something about your life – change it. You are the only one who can.
ï You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough. (Okay, that one wasn’t me, but another fabulous blonde, Mae West.)
And in a maddeningly predictable twist of fate, it was at this very same wedding that I met (sigh) another Mike. And why wouldn’t his name be Mike? My love life is, always has been, and apparently always will be, plagued with Mike’s. And even though this name appears quite clearly at the top of my “will not date ever again under any circumstances, including middle age or duress” list, I figured what the hell. He was a single groomsman. I was a single gal from out of town. Cocktails were flowing. Cliché or not, this was a fairy tale in the making.
So I spent my evening dancing and carousing with aforementioned “will not date ever again under any circumstances, including middle age or duress” guy-turned-potential prince charming. Then in my own quasi-Cinderella moment, I dashed just before midnight without saying goodbye. In all fairness, this was more a function of my ride leaving than me playing fairy tale princess (or even more unlikely – playing hard to get). It wasn’t until the next day when I heard that “will not date ever again under any circumstances, including middle age or duress” guy-turned-potential prince charming sobbed on my girlfriend’s shoulder about my untimely departure that I felt truly bad about my actions.
So I did what any self-respecting, overly-flirtatious Cinderella wannabe would do; I sent the obligatory “sorry I bailed but it wasn’t really my fault” email. Naturally, the email was laced with rich verbs and witty commentary – but in a really laid-back, “I’m not trying to hard” kinda way. I was feeling really good about said email until I got this reply:
“No worries….Blah…Blah… I’m happy for the bride and groom…Blah…Blah…Glad to meet you…Blah…Blah… You seem like a quality individual.”
Yeah, that’s right. He called me, gulp, a “quality individual.” Man, that was like taking a bullet.
Naturally, and without delay, I asked a close friend for the male-to-male translation of aforementioned email, in an effort to corroborate (or with a bit of luck refute) my initial ghastly interpretation. Without hesitation, he provided a translation that went something like this: “I spent all night working her and that bitch left without so much as a goodnight kiss."
Ouch.
And with that readers, I leave you with one final pearl of wisdom: "Love is indeed like a fairy tale – Grimm."
No comments:
Post a Comment