“Look out your window.”
“Why?”
“Did you see the sunset?”
“Wait a second,” she peered out her bedroom window and saw the most spectacular sunset. “It’s beautiful.”
“I thought you’d think so. I just wanted to share that with you. I’m around the corner, are you almost ready?”
“I’m ready.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in a few.”

She hung up the phone and asked herself for the millionth time in the past five days if she was doing the right thing. He said he owed her a dinner and that he wanted to do something nice for her birthday which was a week ago, but who’s counting? They had a bitter, emotional, violent breakup more than a month ago and she was slowly moving toward getting over him. Initially, she couldn’t understand why he would want to take her out. His answer was that she was deserving of a night out. That was true but it still seemed suspicious to her. He told her that after being a part of each other’s lives for more than two years he just couldn’t imagine pretending like she didn’t exist. Even though that is exactly what she told him to do.

She didn’t know what was going to be accomplished by going out with him. She knew in her heart of hearts that the relationship was over and they could not go back to what they had. She no longer trusted him and she was not willing to put her heart back on the line for him or for anyone else. It was just too painful.

She reluctantly accepted the date and even though she told him she would be more comfortable meeting him at the restaurant, he insisted on picking her up. This was going to be the first time that she would see him after the break up and she was nervous as hell. She walked downstairs when the doorbell rang and was surprised to see a short uniformed-man instead of her ex-boyfriend. She slowly opened the door and looked out at a black stretch limousine in front of the house.

“Good evening, ma’am, my name is Charles. Happy Birthday. I’ll be your driver for the evening.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No ma’am. May I escort you to the car?”

She slowly followed Charles to the awaiting limousine. He opened the door and helped her into the back where her ex was waiting for her. “Are you kidding me?” she repeated to him. He just smiled, quite pleased that he was able to pull this off. Once Charles took his place in the driver’s seat they were off.

“What is this about?” she asked.
“I told you I owed you a dinner.”
“Yeah, a dinner. Not a friggin’ limousine.”
“You deserve it.”
“I know that, but damn.”
He smiled and asked her if she wanted a drink.
“I think I better,” she responded.
“Cosmopolitan?”
He began to mix Stolle, triple sec and cranberry juice into a frosted martini glass. She didn’t want to be, but she had to admit that she was impressed.

They arrived at Ruth Chris and Charles helped her out of the car. The night was brisk and he put his arm around her to guide her to the entrance of the restaurant. She had heard wonderful things about this restaurant but this would be a first for the two of them. She was looking forward to it, yet part of her was still suspicious.

The conversation went smoothly and they were as polite as two people on a first date. They were guarded but in a familiar sort of way. She ordered the lobster tail with a petite filet. He had the New York Strip.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Very much, thank you.”
“No, thank you. I really wanted to take you out to let you know how much I appreciate all you’ve done for me over the years. You were my biggest source of encouragement and you always believed in me especially when I didn’t believe in myself. So, even though you told me never to contact you again I couldn’t let your birthday go by without some sort of acknowledgement. Does that make any sense?”
“It makes perfect sense. I appreciate the thought.”

The waitress brought the bill and she tried to steal a glance but was unsuccessful and he was wearing his poker face. “What’s the damage?” she asked.
He slid the slip of paper in her direction and she felt no pain after she saw the total of $160, before tip. She was worth it. She excused herself and went to the ladies room while he called the limo driver to alert him that they were ready to be picked up.

She returned to the table and he helped her with her coat and they headed for the exit. She was satisfied that all had gone well. It was still early and she wondered if he had anything else planned. She almost didn’t want the night to end. She felt less suspicious and was almost feeling safe.

Charles opened the door and helped her into the limo. She took her original seat but slid down to make room for him. However, when he entered the limo he took his original seat, which was against the back window.

“Your next destination, sir?” Charles asked.
“We haven’t decided yet, Charles. Why don’t you drive to the Oceanfront and once we decide I’ll let you know.”
“Fine sir.” Charles disappeared behind the partition that separated him from the passengers.
“You seem so far away,” he said.
“Well, I was hoping that you would sit next to me,” she replied.
He did not have to be asked twice and somewhere along the line her words were translated into “put your tongue in my mouth” because that is exactly what he did.

“Wait a minute,” she said.
“What’s wrong?”
“What are you doing?”
“You said to sit next to you.”
“I know what I said and I’m not trying to get all analytical on you, but damn what the hell are we doing?”
“I thought we were having a good time.”
“We are. But casual sex is not my idea of a good time. In case you’ve forgotten we are not a couple anymore.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“And I understand the heat of the moment and all that … but I take this very seriously.”
“So do I.”
She shook her head and smiled as she spied the bulge in his pants. She knew that he would say anything at this point. He needed the release and truth be told, so did she. Her heart was telling her not cross this line. Her body was telling her to take this opportunity. It had been so long since they had been together and finally the screams of her body drowned out the whispering of her heart.

They fell into a familiar rhythm and it felt almost as if no time had passed since the last time they had been together. However, there was an urgency and passion that was not there before and she had to keep herself from crying out. Once they had given all they had they lay in each other’s arms in silence. Neither one wanted to speak for fear of breaking the spell.

She couldn’t make eye contact with Charles when she exited the limousine. He helped her out of the car and once again wished her a happy birthday.

“This was a good night,” he said as he walked her to her front door.
“Yes it was,” she agreed. “Thank you.”
He took her in his arms one last time and kissed her softly on the lips. “Good night.”
“Good night,” she said.
She watched as the limousine drove off before she went into the house. She smiled and thought to herself without one single regret, “Yes, it was a good night.”

I grew up in a small military town in the northeast. It took about two minutes to get from one side of town to the other. Trust me it was small. One high school, one mall, one movie theater, several liquor stores. Everybody knows everybody and you are lucky to get out with your sanity. Growing up in a small town was not all bad though. It was safe. Usually after school we would hang out at the basketball courts and on the weekends we would go to the movies or go to a party in someone’s basement.

That is, until we got older. As young ladies in our early twenties we would venture across the bridge to the submarine base where we could party at the EM Club with the enlisted sailors. If we had any sense we would have gone to the Officer’s club. Anyway, the men/boys who grew up in our town grew tired of losing “their” women/girls to these men who would be here one day and gone the next. After a while, the sailors stopped waiting for the girls to come to the base and they began traveling to see us.

I remember one night in particular when this guy that I grew up with -- Alan – came up to me and said, “Ya’ll need to stop trying to live out this Officer and a Gentleman dream. Ain’t no one gonna take you outta here.” He laughed and walked away.

Alan was right. Even though I did marry a sailor and he did take me out of my small town, the marriage was a disaster and only lasted eight years. Most of us small town girls dreamed of some uniform-clad prince coming to sweep us off our feet. We had a distorted view of what reality was and thought that what we saw on “An Officer and a Gentleman” could really happen for us.

I’m a writer with a very vivid imagination and I can write some great characters. Perfect men with almond shaped eyes and perfect bodies who never disappoint their women. Unfortunately, sometimes my imaginary world of characters spills over into real life and I project that image onto real-life men. I know that’s nuts. I never claimed to be sane.

After seeing “Diary of a Mad Black Woman” for the twentieth time I got kinda mad. If you’ve seen it (and you should) you’ll remember Shemar Moore’s character Orlando. He’s a blue-collar guy, with cornrows and a heart of gold. He went through a bad break up and when he meets Helen (Kimberly Elise) he seems to just want to take care of her because of all she’s been through. One of the lines in the movie is, “Let me love you past your pain.” The first time I heard it, I got all sappy and wished he was mine. The last time I watched it, I sucked my teeth and said, “Oh please Orlando.”

I know it’s just a movie and I’m not bitter or angry (anymore) but come on. That guy does not exist. Tyler Perry made him up. He’s a beautifully written character – but a character just the same. I think that I have seen so many of these characters that somewhere along the line I thought they did exist. It’s like the distorted view that my son may develop if I allow him to watch all the booty-shakin’ on BET. He’ll walk away believing that all women want to be treated like whores.

So here’s some free information for you all. In case you didn’t know, the following “perfect” men aren’t real either:

Edward – (Pretty Woman). Men don’t marry prostitutes. This one is the worst by far. This wealthy, emotionally bankrupt man falls in love with a hooker and at the end of the movie he decides to take her away from her terrible life. Why? Because she had sex with him? Someone once told me that men use love to get sex and women use sex to get love. Women have got to understand that sex will not bring you love. Don’t get it twisted, withholding sex won’t bring you love either. But you have got to be careful not to confuse the two. Good sex does not equal love.

Jerry – (Jerry McGuire). The next man who tells me, “You complete me,” I swear I’ll kick him in the teeth. I don’t want to complete you. I want you to be complete when you come to me.

Julian Grayraven – (Eve’s Bayou). He’s beautiful, he’s a talented artist, he’s sexy and he just happens to show up on Debbi Morgan’s doorstep. He doesn’t care that she’s ‘barren’ because, according to him he’ll plant seeds of love in her heart. Sorry – perfect men just don’t come knocking on your door. If they did, you wouldn’t spend so much time at the club.

Summer G – (G). Superbly played by my personal ‘fantasy man’, Richard T. Jones. This hip-hop mogul has carried the love for his college sweetheart around with him for years and when they meet up again, he proclaims that he will walk away from all the money and all the fame just so they can live happily ever after. I love you, Richard – but come on.

I am reading this wonderful book right now entitled Distant Lover written by Gloria Mallette. I'm only half way through it but so far so good. The story is centered around a married couple who are having problems and on the brink of divorce. The husband had an affair and the wife couldn't forgive him. The wife finds herself fantasizing constantly about her high school sweetheart -- her first love. He moved away after high school and they lost touch. Twenty years pass and he ends up back in the town where they grew up. I think they may hook up!

This of course makes for a great story but we all know that a lot happens in twenty years. If they do hook up I can guarantee that the man she sees today is not the boy she loved back in high school. I can't wait to see what happens.

This novel got me to thinking about my own distant lover. He lives many states away and it's been four years since we were last together although we speak on a regular basis. He is the inspiration for some of my best poetry. I have had a few fleeting fantasies of making this a more permanent situation but then I come to my senses and realize that it could never be. If we had to be in each other's presence on a regular basis we could probably kill each other.

We love each other just the same. My distant lover is intelligent and responsible. Funny and sexy. Fine as hell and the mere sound of his voice can bring me out of the deepest of depressions. We knew each other for almost ten years before we actually ... well knew each other. When we first met I thought he was an annoying child (he's seven years my junior) that I just wanted to pat on the head and send on his way. Little did I know that ten years later he would be the one to give me the strength that I needed when I was at my lowest point.

Our first encounter was very spur of the moment. I mentioned that I was going to be traveling to a certain state for a weekend conference. Coincidentally, (or not) he would be in the same state -- different city. He changed his plans and asked if he could meet me. At that time, I thought there would be no harm in hooking up with an old friend that I hadn't seen in years. We could have dinner and talk over old times. I swear to you, I had no ulterior motive and I didn't think he did either. I didn't even realize that I was attracted to him.

I arrived first and I realized after I got out of the shower and was doing my hair and makeup that I was nervous. When he showed up we smiled at each other easily and hugged at the door. We talked and laughed but I was still feeling nervous. We left the hotel and went to dinner and it felt as though my heart was going to pound right out of my chest. He was thoroughly enjoying my discomfort and when the waitress asked if we would be having dessert he just smiled, winked and said that he would be -- later at the hotel. I did not find that amusing. I told him to stop playing with me. His reply was, "I'm not playing." Gulp.

We get back to the room and he asks me if I can change a dollar so he can get a soda from the machine. I told him I didn't have any change but the machine probably took dollar bills. He nodded his head, grabbed the ice bucket and walked out the door. He came back without a soda and a full ice bucket. He said he changed his mind. Anyway, I'm very nervous at this point and I can't keep still. He decides this is the right moment to kiss me. It was one of those kisses that a woman never forgets. It was gentle with just enough force. It was a kiss with the promise of much more to come. Afterward, he sat down on the bed and said, "Man! I just kissed chele. I can't wait to get home so I can call you and tell you all about it."

Reminding me of our friendship. A friendship that is still intact. A friendship that I rely on but I don't take advantage of. It would be so easy to turn him into the 'fall guy' whenever I have relationship problems but that wouldn't be fair. We are friends first and lovers second. And even if we never make love again I know that we will always be the best of friends. We were only together one other time after that night. At a bed and breakfast in the art district with a veiw of the river. That time I wasn't nervous.

Oh yeah, if you are wondering about the full ice bucket ... he made very good use of it that night. I never saw it coming.

I believe that there is a lesson to be learned in every situation. As I mature I make more of an effort to actually figure out what that lesson is. Especially when I walk away from a bad situation or if there is an unexpected turn of events in my life.

I’ll admit that it is not always easy to find the lesson when you’re in a stressful situation. It’s much easier to find a bottle of Pinot Grigio. However, when the dust settles and you can think clearly you are better equipped to look at things objectively without anger, hostility, sadness, etc.

The lesson that I have learned recently is that unrealistic expectations breed despair. Let me explain.

I expect a lot from the men in my life. I expect to be put first, I expect honesty no matter what and I expect complete loyalty. There are no exceptions and there are no excuses for falling short of the mark. I sound like a drill sergeant, don’t I? I’m very clear when I begin a relationship about what I expect and I am also clear about what he can expect from me. He will never come first, because I have two children. I will always be honest – even if it hurts your feelings. I will be completely loyal. Hell, I’ll be your number one fan, unless it interferes with my loyalty to my kids, in which case you will be kicked to the curb.

There’s a slight double standard going on here, I know. But that is the way it is and either you can deal or you cannot. Many cannot.

Unrealistic? Absolutely. Am I alone now? Absolutely. And, for the record: I’m not thrilled about it. I’m dealing but I’m not thrilled about it. At all.

I am great at rationalizations. But I won’t go there. I’m not great at the give-and-take. I’m also not going to say that I refuse to lower my standards in order to have a man. Well, actually I do refuse to lower my standards. What I will do is learn to be more understanding. Understand that no one is perfect and everyone makes mistakes. I mean, when my ex questioned me about my feelings for the poet/stalker I told a fib and said that I wasn’t flattered. I never told him that I still carried the poem with me either. That was not being completely honest. So I’m flawed.

I won’t get all into my trust and anger issues (being married to a bigamist will do that to you) but I do recognize that I have issues. I also recognize that every person I meet cannot pay for the mistakes of one (or two). I know that my expectations should be more realistic. I'm working on it.

Babyface’s Grown and Sexy is my new favorite CD. Specifically, the title cut. I’ve always been a huge fan. I just think he is so smooth. Although, I do find it interesting that in so many of his songs he lists all his great qualities in order to get the girl, or is hating on another guy (e.g., Never Keeping Secrets, Soon As I Get Home, Grown and Sexy, Given A Chance). I wonder if Tracy remembers all those great qualities right about now.

Anyway, Grown and Sexy is like an anthem for me. Every time I hear it I feel good. It gives me energy and I can’t keep still. It got me to thinking about what makes us grown and sexy.

It’s relatively easy to define being grown. There are the obvious things like:

Having your own place (i.e., not living in your mom’s basement)
Having your utilities in your own name (not your child’s name)
Having at least one VALID major credit card

But what about the less obvious qualities? Let me be clear, I am not professing to have all these down. After all I am a work in progress:

Self-confidence – Knowing who you are, loving who you are and accepting who you are in spite of your faults. Being able to stand toe-to-toe with anyone who challenges you or your belief system.

Emotional stability – The Bible says that we should be no more children, tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine (Ephesians 4:14). To me this means that we shouldn’t be swayed by every turn of events. We should be stable in all our ways regardless of the circumstances and not let our emotions get the better of us.

Financial maturity – Live at or below your means, if possible. Just because you can afford something today doesn’t mean you have to have it today. I was married to a man who thought it was more important to buy $100 tennis shoes than to put food in the refrigerator. In his opinion what people could see far outweighed what they couldn’t see.

Decisiveness – I love someone who can make a daggone decision and not spend a lifetime second guessing himself. Make a decision and stand by it. If it turns out to be the wrong decision that’s okay too. Own up to the mistake and make another decision. Don’t be afraid to make a mistake – we all do it.

Honesty – It is much too difficult to keep up with lies. Just tell the truth to begin with. If the person you are dealing with can’t handle the truth that is really their issue not yours.

Character – A person with good character will do the right thing even when no one is watching.

It’s not as easy to define sexy though. What is sexy to one may not be sexy to another. For example, to me a full bottom lip is sexy as hell. A man who knows how to apologize is also very sexy. Then it dawned on me: The things that make you grown ARE sexy.

Go ‘head Face.

First of all, I stole this idea from Princess Dominique but since it is my birthday I'll take it as a gift from her. I become very introspective on my birthday and here are 101 things that I know about myself:


1. Today is my birthday
2. I’m a recovering choco-holic
3. I prefer heels to tennis shoes
4. I love Lifetime television
5. I knew at 17 that I wanted to be a mother
6. At 19 I told my mother that I wanted to have kids but not a husband – she freaked
7. I had my first child at 26
8. I have dated out of my race four times
9. I married out of my race once
10. When I’m under stress I can’t eat
11. I don’t believe in soul mates
12. I know how to fake an orgasm
13. I can’t swallow pills
14. I have never dated a man that made more money than me
15. I pray everyday
16. I’ve been keeping a journal for 26 years
17. I started a new journal today
18. I have anger issues
19. I met my biological father for the first time when I was 19 years old
20. I never saw or spoke to him again after that meeting
21. I screen my phone calls
22. My very best friend is a man
23. I spend $70 every six weeks for a facial
24. My favorite cartoon character is Bugs Bunny
25. My favorite Christmas Special is the Grinch Who Stole Christmas
26. I have a hard time gaining weight
27. I like to make love with the lights on
28. And in front of a mirror
29. I once joined a dating service – total waste of time
30. I went ‘commando’ on a flight to Atlanta
31. I can’t swim
32. In 2nd grade I was thrown into a pool and almost drowned
33. I love sushi
34. I had my first cigarette in 5th grade
35. I stole one of my father’s Pall Mall (unfiltered) cigarettes
36. I smoke when I’m stressed
37. God’s greatest gift – hot showers
38. I lost my virginity at age 16
39. For 15 years I thought I was 5 feet 8 inches tall
40. I’m only 5 feet 6-1/2 inches tall
41. I color my hair
42. Sometimes I sneak into my childrens’ rooms after they fall asleep to make sure their breathing. My kids are 15 and 11.
43. I cannot tolerate rude children
44. My younger sister is my hero
45. I love Ben & Jerry’s Phish Food
46. I don’t like to be called ma’am
47. I call everyone ma’am
48. I never click over when the call waiting beeps
49. I would rather die than throw up
50. Luke 7:37-50 is my favorite passage in the Bible
51. I had a breakdown on my 30th birthday
52. I am hopelessly in love with Richard T. Jones
53. I live in the south and can’t stand sweet tea
54. Bath and Body Works Moonlight Path is my favorite fragrance
55. I love public displays of affection
56. I’m a Preacher’s Kid
57. I used to think that I would preach
58. I like going to the movies alone
59. I love fresh flowers
60. I used to wear a jheri curl
61. John 14 is my second favorite passage in the Bible
62. I wish I had a better relationship with my mother
63. Thanksgiving is my most favorite holiday
64. I write poetry
65. I like the sound of a man’s laughter
66. I become irrational when I see one of my children cry
67. I used to read Penthouse forum
68. My shoe size is 10
69. I don’t like visiting people in the hospital
70. I prefer shopping online than going to the store
71. I’m not sweet
72. I wish my butt was bigger
73. I have really big eyes and I like when people notice them
74. I gave birth to two children with no drugs
75. I’m an Iota Sweetheart (ΙΦΘ)
76. I like to play dress-up
77. I talk to the screen in the movie theater
78. I never leave the house without my license and lipstick
79. I never eat ribs in public
80. After my first marriage ended I made a $50 bet with my sister that I would never marry again. I lost.
81. I will never marry again
82. I believe I look and feel better now than I did twenty years ago
83. I read self-help books
84. A year ago I lied to my doctor to get a prescription for Xanax
85. I have a beautiful smile
86. I was 40 years old the first (and only) time I had sex in an automobile
87. I can only eat microwave popcorn at work
88. I’m an excellent listener and a cheerleader to everyone
89. Sometimes I get sick of the sound of my own voice
90. I prefer dresses to slacks
91. I have to go to sleep to the sound of the television – usually Roseanne
92. I do not believe in love at first sight
93. I used to be a Sunday school teacher
94. I like younger men
95. I love to slow dance
96. There is a spot on the back of my neck that only a few very talented men have found
97. I was a cheerleader in the 7th grade
98. I ran track in the 10th grade
99. I was in the drama club in the 9th grade
100. One of the first things I notice about a man is his bottom lip
101. And the way he smells

On April 12, 1997 a man that I did not know walked up to me in the parking lot of my office building and asked me if I was married. After I smiled and answered in the affirmative he handed me a slip of paper inscribed with the following words:


After eight years I still carry this poem with me everywhere I go. When I'm in a weird place, like I have been lately, I pull it out and it makes me smile. I see that day so clearly and even though the story that this man shared with me about the first time he saw me and how he eventually found my workplace sounds kind of scary and he sounded borderline stalker ... it is still the most romantic thing that I have ever experienced in my life. I never saw him again. I'm not sure if he's ever seen me again.

I think about it and I have to ask what is it that gives a person that kind of courage? I mean, this guy put himself out there and he just seemed fearless. Not arrogant or cocky, or even sure of himself. Just a man with a single thought. Perhaps he felt that if he approached me and I wasn't available that would still be better than not approaching me at all. How many of us are willing to take chances with our feelings like that? How many times have we missed out on something wonderful because we were too busy guarding our hearts? How do you get that kind of courage?

Monday will mark my 41st year and it got me to thinking. Actually, I became very reflective each October after I turned twenty-six. That was the year that I truly believed that I was no longer a child and the years were going by more quickly. At twenty-six I was afraid of getting old. Now at 41, I find that notion ridiculous. What the hell was I scared of?

Remember when you were about to celebrate your twenty-first birthday? I do. Man, I thought I was grown then. Twenty-one was a milestone for all of us. For me the year was 1985. Ronald Reagan was sworn in for his second term as President. Tina Turner won a Grammy award for Record of the Year with What’s Love Got To Do With It and Rock Hudson died of AIDS.

In 1985 I was dating a guy who I would later break up with because I knew he would never marry me. He eventually did marry a friend of mine. After many years together and two children, she decided that she was really into women and left him. I get a certain amount of sick satisfaction out of that.

At 21, I had no husband and no children and my biggest worry was having something nice to wear for the upcoming weekend.

At 41, I’ve had two husbands, two children and my biggest worry is paying for my children’s education.

At 21, I rented. At 41, I own.
At 21, I drove a beat up used car. At 41, I drive a not-so-beat up used car.
At 21, I drank Southern Comfort. At 41, I drink Cosmopolitans and good red wine.
At 21, I weighed 134 pounds. At 41, I weigh 126 pounds.
At 21, I thought I was cute. At 41, I know I am beautiful.
At 21, I lived in Connecticut. At 41, Virginia is my home.

I’ve gone through a lot of changes in twenty years. I’m looking forward to Monday. I’m looking forward to the rest of my life. I’m going to watch my son graduate in two short years. Thinking about that makes me misty. Anyway, my point is that I’m no longer afraid of getting old. At 30 years old I nearly had a fit because I thought that was the beginning of the end. I can be so daggone dramatic sometimes.

Thirty was not the end. There was a time when I thought that 21 was the beginning. I’m more of the mind that each year is a new beginning for me. I’m thankful. I’m blessed. I have another opportunity to be good to those around me. I have another opportunity to be good to me.

Dance Class Update: Sixteen-8 counts is a lot of dancing to memorize. I worked up a sweat and I didn’t look like such a doofus. I feel more comfortable and I’m going to continue with the class. The key is to stop watching the other “dancers”. Those heifers throw me off.

I started my dance class last week. I didn't comment until now because I'm going back tonight and I wasn't sure how I felt about it.

Let's see. It's an Adult Hip Hop class and it is filled with women my age and one guy. The instructor is also male. Since I joined the class late I had to just jump in and figure out the steps on my own. No individual instruction. Thankfully, my sister is in the class and was able to help me and my very talented daughter, who has a photographic memory, was able to watch the steps and come home and show them to me.

I left the class last week a little discouraged. I mean, I am not rhythmically challenged. I can dance. The choreography is very precise and I'm more of a freestyle kind of gal. I've been practicing all week and I'm praying that tonight's class will be better. The good news is, this is really just play time -- they don't start to get serious until January when they begin rehearsing for the performance in June. So I do have some time to get the hang of this.

On another note ...

My sisters and I got together last night and decided that the three of us are going to take a trip to Vegas at the beginning of the year. Both my sisters are married and I kind of think that they think they need to do something with me to cheer me up. What the hell? I've always wanted to go to Vegas and better a pity trip than none at all, right? I figure by January, I'll be out of the doldrums anyway and ready to party. The holidays will be over and a brand new year always gives me a great feeling. I love to start new things. Needless to say I'm really looking forward to it.

My sisters have almost nothing in common, except for the fact that they both married Naval Officers named "Mike". Once in Vegas, my older sister wants to go to a spa and get pampered while my younger sister wants to drink and gamble. I want to be pampered by a gambler. Drinks are optional. This ought to be fun.

Update: No retail therapy this week!

I’m messing up. Thankfully, I realized it and caught myself before I went too far. It has been four weeks since the breakup and during that time, in an attempt to keep my mind occupied I have, contacted an ex distant lover, spent ridiculous amounts of money on books, jewelry, wine, clothes and lingerie. The $85 at Victoria’s Secret yesterday is what finally caused me to wake the hell up. I have never used shopping as therapy before so I don’t know why I started this now – probably because I can afford it now. Not for long at this pace. Anyway, I had been rationalizing that since it is my birthday month I deserve to spoil myself – but I’m just lying to myself.

I’ve decided to slow it down. I’m going to the annual wine tasting festival this weekend and my original intent was to purchase a case of something I really liked. I changed my mind. I’ll just come home with a bottle. Then I’m done spending. For real.

I know what the problem is. I’m trying to rush through the grieving process. I realize now how ridiculous that is. It is a process and just like any other process I just have to get through it. There are no short cuts. I just have to travel this road until I get through to the other side. There has to be a balance though. I refuse to wallow in it forever. I don’t want to be the only attendant at my pity parties. I heard somewhere (Sex and The City, I think) that the amount of grieving time you need for a failed relationship is one half the total time of the relationship. That means I should grieve for one year. To hell with that nonsense.

Here are a few productive things I plan to do to assist me on the journey:

Accept that it’s over. It’s done. Finished. This is what I wanted and this is what I got. No, it doesn’t make it hurt any less but the hurt I’m feeling now isn’t as bad as the hurt I was feeling while I was in the relationship.

Look to the future. What do I want to focus on now? When I got divorced five years ago I wrote my first novel and published it last year. Quite an accomplishment if I do say so myself. What's next for me? Set a goal and work to reach it.

Stop thinking about the next relationship. I have got to put more effort into working on myself before I can bring anything positive into a relationship. I brought all the baggage from my first marriage into my second marriage and you see where that got me. Lay low. Enjoy being alone for a while. Be grateful for the money I'll be saving on my grocery bill. Rejoice in the fact that I don't have to worry about his roving eye. Jump for joy that nothing in my refrigerator is labeled "fat free", "light" or "low fat". Stop thinking that every man is a possible suitor. Sometimes they’re not. Sometimes it’s just the guy at the grocery store.

Pray. Cast all your cares on Him because he cares for you. Lean not unto your own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him and he will direct your path. He will keep you in perfect peace if you keep your mind stayed on Him. These aren’t just words – they are words to live by. God is faithful to us even when we are not faithful to him. How many people do you know like that? Not many I’d bet.

Tomorrow is another day and I'm really looking forward to it.

She could only admit to herself that post-9/11 flights were not her favorite thing in the world. She wasn't crazy about flying before that but the feeling she had now as she boarded her flight was a mix of fear and anticipation. She found her seat and put her bag in the overhead compartment before she took her seat. She had to be careful as she reached into the compartment, otherwise the other passengers might discover that she was not wearing panties under the skirt that she refused to define as "mini".

As she took her seat she didn't make eye contact with the other passengers who filed past her. Her mind was in the clouds and her thoughts were consumed with seeing him again. With every thought of him she was feeling less fearful. She couldn't allow herself to contemplate anything bad happening on this flight. Not this flight. As far as she was concerned she was on her way to paradise and nothing was going to stop her from reaching her destination.

It had been ten years since she had seen him. Their relationship had drastically changed since then. Ten years ago they were both married to other people. Ten years ago they were just friends. Sometime during those ten years his wife had slept with her husband.

She fastenend her seat belt upon the captain's request and she only half way listened to the male flight attendant as he gave the "in case of emergency" instructions. It was early in the morning and the flight was only to take an hour or so. She was hungry but too nervous to eat. She'd eat when they landed. As the plane headed for take off, she held on to the seat, closed her eyes and prayed for traveling mercies.

The flight was uneventful. She crossed and uncrossed her legs several times and the friction that she was causing between her legs was driving her crazy. She looked down at the black stilettos that she wore and smiled wickedly to herself. She felt the plane begin to descend and her heart skipped a beat because she knew that in a matter of minutes she would lay her eyes on him.

This was too weird. They had remained friends throughout the turmoil and confusion of her separation and divorce. For some reason, he took on the responsibility of being her friend. Weekly phone calls just to check on her turned into daily phone calls or a short note. He made her laugh and that was the one thing she hadn't felt like doing in a long time. Her marriage had not ended because of the infidelity. In fact, she hadn't found out about the extra marital activity until after she decided to leave him. They had other problems that were just too much for her to handle.

The plane came to a complete stop and she carefully stood up and reached into the overhead again. She was happy that she didn't flash any innocent bystanders. She packed light for the weekend and she was thankful that she didn't have to go to the baggage claim. The trip was for three days and two nights. She brought one dressy outfit, one casual outfit, a pair of jeans and some lingerie.

As soon as she entered the airport she pulled out her cell phone and dialed his number. He answered immediately.

"I'm here."
"Where?"
"I don't know ... I've never been here before. Remember? I just got off the plane and I'm walking toward an escalator."
"Take the escalator downstairs and look for the Godiva store. It should be on the right."
"Are you getting me chocolates?"
"Stop being so nosy. I'll see you in a minute."
"Yes you will."

She hung up the phone and had to keep herself from running to the escalator. Instead she struck a pose and decided to let the machine carry her to him. She reached the bottom and stepped off the escalator without getting one of her 3-inch heels caught. Her eyes darted to the right as she began to walk in that direction. She passed a newsstand and a coffee shop -- but no Godiva store. She dialed his number again.

"Where are you?"
"Turn around."

She turned around and saw her weekend knight in shining armour. Mr. Right Now. He stood six feet three inches tall and his bald head was shining. He wore a pair of black slacks and a black turtleneck sweater which was appropriate for the time of year but it almost didn't contain the barrel that he called a chest. She tried to mask the joy that she felt when she saw him -- didn't want to seem too eager -- but damn that brother looked good. She really didn't' know if she would be able to wait until they reached their destination -- a beautiful bed and breakfast that overlooked the river.

He walked toward her and tilted his head to the side and smiled. They stood toe to toe looking at each other. Even with three-inch heels on she was still considerably shorter than he was. He reached for her bag and kissed her softly on the lips all in one motion. She inhaled deeply and all she could smell was a clean man. He took her by the hand and led her to the parking garage without saying a word. She allowed herself to be led without saying a word. There wouldn't be too many more times during the course of the weekend where she would allow him to take the lead.

They had never slept together. However, every phone call, every letter, every e-mail was leading right to this moment. He said he wanted to do something special for her birthday. They tossed around a few ideas and decided to meet in a neutral place. She chose their location after doing some research online. He took it from there and made all the arrangements with the innkeeper -- all she had to do was show up and expect to be taken care of.

They reached the car and he put her bag in the trunk and met her on the passenger side to open her door. Before doing so, he pressed her body against the car and leaned in for another kiss. This time he put his hands around her waist and let them fall to her behind and he squeezed as he kissed her again. He stopped kissing her abruptly.

"You're not wearing any panties?"
She smiled and said, "You are very perceptive. Are you going to let me in the car?"
He buried his head in her neck and said, "What are you doing to me? You know we have a ninety minute drive, right?"
"I know. Sorry," she said coyly.

He reluctantly opened the door for her and watched as she sat down and crossed her legs. He admired her thighs as she reached across the front seat to unlock his door. This was going to be a long drive.

I'm thinking about taking a dance class. My sister takes an adult hip hop dance class and she has been asking me to join her. Our daughters all take dance classes at this same studio and this is my sister's second year to be involved. At the end of the season all the students take part in a major production for the public. I went last year and it was awesome. Eveyone appeared to be having a good time and the adults really did a good job, i.e., they didn't look like a bunch of old people trying to look young. The dance was definitely age appropriate.

I think I want to give it a shot. I love to dance and was actually on the Praise Dance Team at my church for several years. It'll get me out of the house and I could use the exercise.

This is a good time for me. This is the season of self-exploration. I think about this dance class and I remember seeing my daughter on that stage and cheering her on. I remember seeing my sister up there doing her thing and I secretly wished that I was up there too instead of sitting in the audience with my then boyfriend. I didn't participate last year because I felt it would take too much time away from him. I thought I needed to be available for him. I also took on activities that I normally wouldn't have just so I could be with him. Like singing and playing the piano. I've been singing since I was a child but I never contemplated singing for an audience (outside the church) before I met him. However, since he is a musician I felt that if I got involved in what he was involved in it would make us closer.

That's all good in theory. What I failed to accept in the beginning was that he was willing to take advantage of my talent to make the music better. My goal was to take advantage of the music to make our relationship better. We just didn't want the same things.

So now I want to dance. Why? To fill up time. To get out of the house. To get my mind on something positive. To give me something to look forward to. To share a common interest with my daughter. To shake my behind in front of an audience and fulfill some twisted Solid Gold Dancer fantasy.

All good reasons, I think.

The phone call was not a martini-induced dream. How exciting. Things are definitely looking up.

Island Boy was fantastic. The bassist even dedicated a song to me -- Black Magic Woman. He succeeded in making me smile. It had been a while since I had seen a live band other than my ex's and it was a good time. I'm working on filling up my weekends with stuff to do. Otherwise I will lie around the house like a slug and spend too much time thinking about all the things that have gone wrong in my life. When I should be counting my blessings. But this life is a process, right? I did make some progress this weekend -- I cooked an entire meal! It felt good being in the kitchen again and even though I suffered from momentary heart pains because I wasn't cooking for him I got through it. Not only did I cook but I ate like a pig which is defintely a positive sign. Unlike most people, when I am stressed I don't turn to food for comfort. On the contrary -- when I'm stressed I don't eat for days.

So far, I have a few interesting things planned ... The Gospel is opening this weekend so I'll see that on Friday. One of the local churches is sponsoring a Women of Worth conference (www.calvarycommunity.org) and I plan to check that out on Saturday. The following weekend, which is my birthday weekend I'll be attending the Annual Wine Festival at Towne Point Park (www.festevents.org) . That should be really fun. I've never gone to a wine tasting before but after seeing Sideways (the movie) I became intrigued.

Here's something I thought to write over the weekend.

One Day I'll drive down the street and not look for your car
One Day I'll walk into the house and not check the caller ID for your number
One Day I'll wake up and not feel an overwhelming sense of loss
One Day I'll pull up in front of my house and not expect to see you there waiting for me
One Day I'll accept that this thing is really over
One Day I'll believe that this is for the best
One Day I'll be able to look back on our time together and smile

I love October.

Not just because it is the month of my birth -- no wait - that is the only reason why I love October. I celebrate all month long by being extra special to ME. I told you all about my internal frame of reference. I am one of those people who actually believes that the world revolves around them. That's bad, I know. And I am really making an effort to change that. Next month. This month it's all about me. Wonderful me.

Shortly after I got home last night my cell phone rang. It was after midnight and I couldn't begin to guess who would be calling me. My sister and I had gone out together and my guess was that it was my brother-in-law wondering why she hadn't gotten home yet. It wasn't. It was my boss. Why in the hell would my boss be calling my cell phone after midnight on a Friday night?

As you know I just started this job. I've been there for a month and I'm really enjoying it. Many of you may be aware that 30 September is the last day of the government fiscal year. I work in a sales environment (I'm not a salesperson) and almost everyone in my office was working until midnight trying to get every last government sale they could before funding expired. Thankfully, since I'm not part of the salesforce I left the office at 5:00 p.m.

Part of my job includes putting different vendors on our contracts so customers can buy their products from us. It's hard to explain and the process is a pain the neck and usually takes between two to four weeks. Last week I was able to add a vendor in less than four days. It was quite a fete for only being on the job for a month. I was pretty pleased with myself.

Last night my boss called to tell me that because of my efforts we were able to make a 37 million dollar sale before the end of the fiscal year. 37 million dollars! I know I had two martinis last night but I know what I heard -- 37 million dollars. I am absolutely on top of the world. I know that the sales guy (or gal) that actually made the sale will get all the kudos but my boss thought it was important to thank me last night and that ain't too shabby.