What we bossy folk do in our spare time

Did you know that I have an advice column on Facebook?  Yes, me.  Paragon of wisdom and exemplar of mental health that I am.  How could I NOT have one?

My focus in on relationships in all their dysfunctional glory.  Romantic relationships, friendships, coworkerships, perfectstrangerships.  Here's one of my recent columns.

Dear Dani,

I've recently started dating after divorcing my husband of 21 years, and it scares the hell out of me. When I was younger I wasn't good at it, and now the rules seem to have changed. I have no idea what I'm doing! I meet a guy I like and we flirt, but doing that well takes so much of my energy that I can'...t take it any further. I get tongue tied and blurt out stupid things and then go over and over the whole date in my mind for the rest of the week. If somehow a guy manages to stick around for a while, I become obsessed with everything he says and what he means by it and if I'm doing something to run him off. How can I navigate the dating world in my 40s? With kids! How can I keep from running my dates off?

Neurotic Novice

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Dear Neurotic Novice,

Oh fellow neurotic gal, I can't help with dating advice. I sucked at it too, and I've been married to the first guy who asked me for 14 years. I think I lucked out and found a laid-back enough guy to tolerate my brand of craziness. So, um--pick a guy who likes crazy women? That's all I got.

Just kidding! I do suggest that you remember that men are, in general, not as interested in (or aware of?) the meaning behind our words. Most guys are pretty clear about what they think and they say what they mean. (They are completely unlike us in that way!) They're just happy to have a clean, sweet smelling body next to them who doesn't recoil in horror if they admit they are sci-fi nerds. So relax. A guy who will run at the first sign of crazy wouldn't be able to handle a real woman anyway. We have hormones, yo.

And I advise you to have your neurotic dating blow-by-blow convos with a girlfriend rather than your date. Women are much more tolerant of that kind of stuff. It just feels like WORK to men.

Happy dating!

Dani

                                            

Ode to Uncle Jake

Today is my favorite bald-headed brother-in-law's birthday.  Uncle Jake is a trip.  He's one of the funniest relatives I have--and that's saying a lot. 

Nature Boy is a huge fan of Uncle Jake.   I think he relates to his musicality, creativity, and goofy sense of humor.  In an extended family of engineer types, Jake is blazing his own trail as a welder and drummer in a band called China Kills Girls.  This pretty much sums them up.

We like being around Jake at birthday parties.  He sings a little song and dances a little jig every time.  (Told y'all he's musical.)  Below is a photo in which Uncle Jake is about to get a birthday butt whippin'. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY UNCLE JAKE!



Men are from Mars (and they want to rule Venus too)

So, one of my favorite new-to-me bloggers, Jessica over at Bohemian Bowmans, sponsors a weekly theme called Plank Pullin'. Here's her intro:

It’s Plank Pullin’ time!  The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5, style.




I don't know that I'm disciplined enough to do this weekly (besides, how ever will I come up with enough flaws to get past week 3?!), but I'll give 'er a go.

The very wise and very bald Dr. Phil McGraw likes to ask the guests on his show if they'd rather be happy or right.  It is one of life's cruel jokes that so often, you only get to choose one or the other.

And I usually pick:

RIGHT!

I don't know why it's so important to me to be right.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I live in my head, and my intellect has always had my back.  When you're living on the edge of sanity, you grab any handhold you can.  I might be hallucinating Scooby Doo-like messages of warning (Keeeeep Ouuuuuut!) on my ceiling or making sure the doors are shut-locked-and secured exactly 9 times because 9 is a "good number," but my smarts are stable and predictable.  And since I know I can count on my intelligence, it naturally follows that anything I think must be right.  Right?!

For so long, I believed that marriage asks too much of women.  That it makes us servants, permission-askers, second-class citizens.  That the men of the world had all been inducted into the Secret Society of Superior Studs, and that even the nice ones secretly believe that women are inferior.  I came into marriage believing this, even though I married a nice guy who's no Al Bundy (even though he looks like him in this picture).

And since I thought it, it WAS truth in my mind.  A request for something from the kitchen was further evidence that men feel entitled.  The expectation that I (a stay-at-home mom) would cook dinner most nights was straight out the '50s!  A comment about my spending really ticked me off, as it was so obviously an attempt to control me.  It took me about 10 years of marriage to let go of this stubbornly held belief.

I was wrong.  At least when it comes to my own marriage.  I chose to be right instead of happy for those 10 years.  And that sucks.  Happy is much more fun!

Now I'm looking forward to being wrong about more things.

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