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Thursday, September 30, 2010

I Wish Men Knew All of This

So I saw this via a friend of mine and have kept it since.. I feel like now is an appropriate time for me to revisit it. IT'S SO TRUE..

Christina Hendricks: A Letter to Men

The sexy star of Mad Men — and Esquire’s all-new issue devoted to women — has a few things she’d like to get off her chest. 
(source: esquire.com)

We love your body. If we’re in love with you, we love your body. Your potbelly, everything. Even if you’re insecure about something, we love your body. You feel like you’re not this or that? We love your body. We embrace everything. Because it’s you.
Speaking of your body, you don’t understand the power of your own smell. Any woman who is currently with a man is with him partly because she loves the way he smells. And if we haven’t smelled you for a day or two and then we suddenly are within inches of you, we swoon. We get light-headed. It’s intoxicating. It’s heady.
We remember forever what you say about the bodies of other women. When you mention in passing that a certain woman is attractive — could be someone in the office, a woman on the street, a celebrity, any woman in the world, really — your comment goes into a steel box and it stays there forever. We will file the comment under “Women He Finds Attractive.” It’s not about whether or not we approve of the comment. It’s about learning what you think is sexy and how we might be able to convey it. It’s about keeping our man by knowing what he likes.
We also remember everything you say about our bodies, be it good or bad. Doesn’t matter if it’s a compliment. Could be just a comment. Those things you say are stored away in the steel box, and we remember these things verbatim. We remember what you were wearing and the street corner you were standing on when you said it.
Never complain about our friends — even if we do. No matter how many times we say a friend of ours is driving us crazy, you are not to pile on. Not because it offends us. But because it adds to the weight that we carry around about her.
Remember what we like. When I first started dating my husband, I had this weird fascination with the circus and clowns and old carnival things and sideshow freaks and all that. About a month after we started dating, he bought me this amazing black-and-white photo book on the circus in the 1930s, and I started sobbing. Which freaked him out. I thought, Oh, my God, I mentioned this three or four weeks ago and talked about it briefly, but he was really listening to me. And he actually went out and researched and found this thing for me. It was amazing.
We want you to order Scotch. It’s the most impressive drink order. It’s classic. It’s sexy. Such a rich color. The glass, the smell. It’s not watered down with fruit juice. It’s Scotch. And you ordered it.
Stand up, open a door, offer a jacket. We talk about it with our friends after you do it. We say, “Can you believe he stood up when I approached the table?” It makes us feel important. And it makes you important because we talk about it.
No shorts that go below the knee. The ones almost like capri pants, the ones that hover somewhere between the kneecap and the calf? Enough with those shorts. They are the most embarrassing pants in the world. They should never be worn. No woman likes those.
Also, no tank tops. In public at least. A tank top is underwear. You’re walking around in your underwear. Too much.
No man should be on Facebook. It’s an invasion of everyone’s privacy. I really cannot stand it.
You don’t know this, but when we come back from a date, we feel awkward about that transition from our cute outfit into sexy lingerie. We don’t know how to do this gracefully. It’s embarrassing. We have to find a way to slip into another room, put on the outfit as if it all happened very easily, and then come out and it’s: Look at me! Look at the sexy thing I’ve done! For you, it’s the blink of an eye. It’s all very embarrassing. Just so you know.
Panties is a wonderful word. When did you stop saying “panties”? It’s sexy. It’s girlie. It’s naughty. Say it more.
About ogling: The men who look, they really look. It doesn’t insult us. It doesn’t faze us, really. It’s just — well, it’s a little infantile. Which is ironic, isn’t it? The men who constantly stare at our breasts are never the men we’re attracted to.
There are better words than beautiful. Radiant, for instance. It’s an underused word. It’s a very special word. “You are radiant.” Also, enchanting, smoldering, intoxicating, charming, fetching.
Marriage changes very little. The only things that will get a married man laid that won’t get a single man laid are adultery and whores. Intelligence and humor (and your smell) are what get you laid. That’s what got you laid when you were single. That’s what gets you laid when you’re married. Everything still works in marriage: especially intelligence and humor. Because the sexiest thing is to know you. 

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Little Patch of Heaven

Yesterday I took a long walk to the beach. It took me a while during the day to figure out if I wanted to do anything.. and once again, the ocean was my retreat. Seems to be the only place that feels safe to have thoughts that might otherwise distress me. Plus I loved the walk. It has been so hot here! But clear skies and a walk around a lake to get to the ocean.. not too much I can really complain about. I brought my journal there and planted myself on the low part of the cliff nearest the beach entrance and wrote. I wrote about life, the ocean, posed questions to myself. It was a much needed downtime/"me time" session. I laid in the warm patch of sand and listened to the chatter and laughter of the people who entered the beach, the sea breeze and the slow rhythm of the waves and let the sun drench my body... and I felt like I could breathe, my head was at ease and I could have stayed in that little patch of heaven forever.

I wanted so badly then to be on a boat. To be laying on the bow of a sailboat and feel the rocking of the waves beneath me and to have the ultimate feeling of solitude. As Jamie Cullum sings it, to be "all at sea." But I was startled out of my peaceful state by the cutest puppy delivering an old, dirty sock, and running away to get a stick, setting it down for me, and ran back to get some other stick and brought it to me and sat there, for just a moment, before its dad called it over. That's when I decided to go home and be with my girls, and watch the Britney Spears Glee episode. Because that makes a day better. :)


You don't need it every day
But sometimes don't you just crave

To disappear within your mind
You never know what you might find
So come and spend some time with me
We will spend it all at sea
Like a warm drink it seeps into my soul
Please just leave me right here on my own
Later on you could spend some time with me
If you want to
All at sea
-"All at Sea" Jaime Cullum

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

You Make a Mess of Me Here

Look at me dreaming of you
All I could hope is to have you
To have you walking with me
Laughing so in love, we two
Almost drunkenly
I did imbibe of this
Fantasy of you and me

Was I a fool to think?
The way you looked at me
I swear you did
But you looked away too quick
Was I a fool, was I a fool to think
That you would take me home
As if I was yours
Was I a fool to think at all?

I've grown tired of love
You are the trouble with me
I watch you walk right by
I smile, you do not notice me
Treat me recklessly
All you do is toss me pennies out
But the silence in me is screaming
Won't you come and get me?

Was I a fool to think?
The way you looked at me
I swear you did
But you looked away too quick
Was I a fool, was I a fool to think
That you would take me home
As if I was yours
Was I a fool to think at all?

You make a mess of me here
I dance a thousand steps for you
If you say yes to me
I'll be whatever gets you through

You make a mess of me here (was I a fool?)
I dance a thousand steps for you (was I a fool?)
Was I a fool, was I a fool to think?
Am I a fool, am I a fool for you?

"Fool to Think" Dave Matthews Band

You are just teasing me now.. I wish you wouldn't. I wish I knew what you were thinking, but you won't tell me. You're just out of my reach now, and, even though I know this, I want to reach out and touch you. How pathetic. I wish I could start over.. back to the beginning and make it all right, because frankly the rest of this sucks. But I can't change how this went, once again powerless to your will, as it always has been with every form of you. Was I a fool?

It's been too long since I have really written. I need it now more than ever. I'm back in San Francisco, and I feel winds of change..