Archive for May, 2009
Quote of the Week
Posted by: | CommentsFor two people in a marriage to live together day after day is unquestionably the one miracle the Vatican has overlooked.
~Bill Cosby
Marriage and Mystery
Posted by: | CommentsHere’s something else no one ever tells you when you first get married – especially if you are legally coupling for the first time later in life. There will be someone there, on a daily basis, noticing. And, watching. And, wondering what you are doing and why you are doing it.
When we moved in together it just seemed logical to tell him – and let him see — everything and anything. We promised each other total honesty from the beginning. No holding back.
But, let’s face it. Sometimes we do things that we’d rather no one know about. Not because we are doing anything bad or even embarrassing. It is just something where witnesses are not required and explanations are not desired.
When you’ve been single a long time, you are used to things being, well, on the “down low.” Your every like and dislike were not examined and evaluated. So, I got used to the fact no one was going to sneak up behind me when I’m on the computer and peer over my shoulder, as I was perusing InStyle.com. No one picking out CDs from the side pocket on my car door asking, who is this? No one tsk-tsking as the UPS man dropped off yet another zappos.com box. No questions such as, do you really like this stuff? when you’re TV channel surfing and decide to stop on America’s Next Top Model. No one asking whatcha doin? every single day.
But, now I’m married. And, sometimes is feels like the utter and complete annihilation of privacy.
Given our likes and dislikes are so firmly formed by age 40, trying to merge our interests – which sometimes we’d like to keep private just to avoid the dreaded You’re into that? comments – feels like we are giving away precious secrets.
I now understand how long-time married people say the mystery goes out of a relationship pretty quickly. So, where there once was mystery, now there is comfort and familiarity. But, is it an even trade? Hmmm. Something to ponder. And, quickly before Husband asks, whatcha thinking?
Cougar Versus Sophisticat. Your Vote?
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So, on the local news the other night they had a story on “cougars.” You know – women getting involved with younger men. May-December romances. Like Demi Moore and Ashton Kutchner. Demi is considered one of the more famous cougars, marrying Ashton when he was a tender 27. She was 42.
According to the news report, some older women who have married a younger man take issue with the term “cougar.” They would prefer to be called “sophisticats.” (I couldn’t make this up if I tried.)
Husband thought this was hilarious. I thought, who are these people? Can someone please explain to me how sophisticat is better than cougar?
(Minor digression: Husband had never heard of a “cougar” hence him calling me over to the TV last night saying, get a load of this. Clearly, he is behind in his E! Entertainment television viewing. Hollywood has been on to this one for years.)
Apparently one can only claim the title of cougar, if the woman is at least ten years older than her conquest. And, “conquest” is an inherent part of the definition. As in, everyone around you should marvel that you landed him, therefore making you even more special. Also, the popularity of wearing animal prints is another seemingly trait of “cougars.” (That one would put me out of this group immediately. Leopard is not my color.)
For the record, the term “cougar” never bothered me. At least it was strong. And, the men obviously were strong for recognizing the benefits of being with, shall we say, a more evolved being. So, sophisticat just doesn’t match up with this powerful ability — to attract and keep much younger men, who as a group are prone to the younger woman.
And, am I the only one who gets a mental picture of Disney’s Aristocats movie? (Spoiler alert for anyone born after 1970: Picture animated cats, with diamond collars, running around trying to reclaim their fortune left to them by their wealthy owner who just kicked the bucket. In the end, the butler did it.)
I am far from a cougar-sophisticat-whatever besides the fact animal prints not being my best look. Husband is 11 years older than me. (Just a sec. I stand corrected. He wants you to know that he is 10 years and 6 months older. ) But, I cannot picture Susan Sarandon, who has been long-term involved with younger Tim Robbins, sitting on an animated white satin pillow purring at Tim. (And nor can I picture her in a tiger outfit.)
But, by now you are asking, what does this have to do with being an LBB — getting married for the first time over age 40? Well, it seems the cougar-sophisticat debate is just another way of addressing the surprise that women over a “certain age” can find new love. Regardless of age — and regardless of the age of their beloved – it all comes down to this: If you are a little older, people are amazed you can land anyone. And, you are so special, you must be given a very special name. So, ladies, if you are an LBB, consider yourself a very special person. A catch. Meow.
Quote of the Week
Posted by: | Comments“Remember, you married her, you didn’t hire her!” – said to critical, controlling husband.
~Dr Phil
The Stock Market is No Match for Determinism
Posted by: | CommentsIs it too early to start planning a 5 year wedding anniversary trip if it is two years away? Husband says now is not a good time to bring it up. (But, that may be because I want to go to Paris. And, he wants to go, well, anywhere else.)
This begs a question, however. When it is a good time to bring it up? “It” can be anything. And, what if you ask “when will it be a ‘good time’?” and the answer is when the economy gets better? Can a marriage survive the ups and downs of the stock market when there are Paris streets to wander and French wine to be drunk?
Having a financially-oriented husband means that when I ask him how his day went, he tells what the Dow did that day. Seriously. The Wall Street Journal sits on the dining room table all day and MadMoney is religiously TIVO-ed. (Even if it means Millionaire Matchmaker is cut off a minute too short, meaning I don’t get to see how it all turns out. Apparently, stock tips are more important than whether Hans found “the one.”)
Trips to Paris are on the bottom of the list, while saving for a rainy day is high. I, on the other hand, know that it rains a LOT in Paris, so can’t we do both?
It’s been said many times that financial compatibility is key for a successful marriage. But, what if the third party (read: the stock market) refuses to play?
I know I’ll be thankful for all this financial responsibility when we are sitting in our rockers on the front porch one day, cuz those rockers will be the high-end kind. But, for now I’d really settle for the stock market to stop rocking. Because we aren’t going anywhere – just back and forth. And, that won’t help me get across the ocean.
So, I’m doing what any mature bride would do. Cashing in the frequent flier miles. Husband can run from Paris, but he can’t argue with free (or the savvy LBB).
I told you so….
Posted by: | CommentsYa know when you get married later in life, you just hope that maturity has set in to the point that you need never to say (or hear) “I told you so” from your beloved. Oh, the fantasies we weave.
But, the dreaded “I told you so’s” don’t ever really leave. They just change form.
For instance, we recently did some re-painting of our townhouse. We originally had a very high-end interior designer do our paint scheme. She’s good. But, the paint color choices didn’t really turn out for our 1,500 square foot home (compared to the 10,000 square foot home she was used to).
Let’s take the kitchen, for instance. We had it painted red. It was supposed to be like you were standing inside a glass of merlot. Rather, it was like being inside a 1970s Hardees. We had it re-painted white and yellow a few weeks ago.
And, the hallway (in the northern most, darkest part of the townhouse with just a teeny-tiny window) was painted blue. Lovely color. Just dark as night. So, now it’s yellow, too.
My office was originally painted a lovely feminine lavender. I loved it for about six months. Then it made me feel like I was inside a Dunkin’ Doughnuts. Now it is a creamy ivory. (Can you spot a trend?)
When the painters finally finished, I called my husband at work to 1) announce we would be eating out for the next two nights while the kitchen dried, and 2) announce my good judgment for having it all painted, raising the re-sale value.
“Well, you can remember my comment when we first painted…” said Husband. Or, I told you so…
Small Space, Bigger Marriage?
Posted by: | CommentsSo, in my quest for making our townhouse bearable small house decorating tips, I came across a terrific blog resource – the Jewel Box Home.
This online site provides a guide to decorating, entertaining and joyful living in a smaller home. I’m going to be spending a lot of time here. I can already tell.
And, upon my first visit, Lo! and Behold!, a blog post asking if a smaller house makes for a happier marriage? Ummm, well, I dunno…
The Jewel Box Home author, Genevieve, makes very compelling arguments for how a smaller space would force togetherness and compromise. I will not argue with her points. Because she’s right. There’s no getting away from me him in our small place. He’s just going to have to deal.
But, that means I have to deal, too. And, therein lies another side of the coin.
Anyone who knows me (or hangs around this blog long enough), knows that I wish to run screaming from vacate our 1,500 square foot townhouse. Husband swore we would be here temporarily. (Note to self: Next time ask his definition of “temporary.”) Upon moving day, I was told we would build and move into our dream house, tout de suite.
(For the record, our dream house is not a McMansion, either. It’s a respectable 3,500 square foot home that will include two offices – we run our own businesses –, a home gym and guest quarters. So, that’s not so big.)
Alas, five years later and two stepsons’ college tuitions later, we’re still here, where he trips over my shoes in the hall and I get to view growing stacks of paper, magazines and newspapers on our kitchen table.
Before we moved in together I had a 2,500 square foot home to myself. I do believe it was the first time I did not have to “switch out” my winter and summer clothes. There was a guest bedroom and office where all my overflow stuff could, well, overflow. And, I could stretch out onto the couch at any time I wanted. No one was going to ask me to “scoot over.”
I wasn’t always so space piggy, though.
My favorite place I ever lived was a 565 square foot, one bedroom condo in Arlington, Virginia. In the dead of winter, I could see the Washington monument from my parking lot. In the spring I was greeted with flowering magnolia and pink dogwood trees at my front door. It had a fireplace. And, cathedral ceilings. Even a one-person washer/dryer unit in the one-of-two closets. I was in heaven. I had no room to add anything, once I moved in. But, I loved it anyway.
But, I have come to realize that what made this small place so grand included a few things missing from our current small place. For one, silence.
As I write, I can hear the television news from downstairs. This is not an unusual day, either. I regularly hear the news. Blaring in every. single. corner of the place. So, until they come up with uber soundproofing that can muffle CNBC, I’m going to continue to dream of more space.
It’s the Movie’s Fault
Posted by: | CommentsI have been trying to explain to Husband that I am not crazy. I am not demanding. I am not at all asking for the world.
I just want what I see in the movies.
Is that bad?
Know that LBBs, in particular, are romantics. We wouldn’t have held out for marriage for so long if we weren’t seeking something really special, right? Just one catch, “special“ for us was oftentimes born at the movies (or books or TV, for that matter).
When I was 7, I discovered my first crush. William Shatner as Captain Kirk on Star Trek. He always got the girl, even if she was an alien. And, he always looked at these women like he wanted to devour them. Albeit he wasn’t very good at sticking around, he was very good at making a female “whatever” feel like the center of the universe for at least one mission.
And, so it began. My long romance with the romance.
Endless Love with Brooke Shields, Love Story with Ryan O’Neal, The Blue Lagoon again with Brooke Shields (who obviously had it going on), Say Anything with John Cusack, Fatal Attraction (just kidding), Ghost with Patrick Swayze and Demi, The Thomas Crown Affair with Pierce Brosnan and Rene Russo.
They all painted a picture of endless sacrifice, unquestioning loyalty, thrill-seeking, heart-thumping, perfect love making, perfume and peonies…Sigh.
For 30 some years I watched movie magic unfold before me like a twisted blueprint of how to approach love and romance.
Direction number one from the movies – hold out for the “one.” Romances alway show you it pays off – big time — to hold out for “the one.” And, “the one” is characterized by always saying the right things, at the right time, in beautiful poetry, flowers and weekend getaways in convertibles to cabins in the woods. Oh, and he looks like George Clooney.
Direction number two – what you do, matters not. If you scream at him, and he really loves you, he’ll chase you through the streets of NYC, throwing his body across cabs and Mercedes with screaming advertising executives, to get to you. He will then apologize.
Direction number three – it doesn’t matter where or how you live, he will find you. So, go ahead and sit under a rock, in a cave, about 6,000 feet under the ocean, somewhere south of Bora Bora, in a ratty old cardigan with your hair pulled back in a scrunchie. He will see beyond all that. And, when he shows up you are free to ask, what took you so long?
Fortunately (or unfortunately), since becoming an LBB and meeting other LBBs, I have discovered I am not alone. (Whew.) I also have discovered, that men have been given similar misdirection. (For one, they believe one trip to the beauty shop is all it takes to turn into Michelle Pfeiffer. HAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, and she’ll find everything he does cute.)
So, I do not blame Husband for the confusion. Rather, I blame Ben Affleck in Chasing Amy:
I love you. Very, very simple, very truly. You are the-the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being. And I know that you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is-is-is the furthest thing from an option you would ever consider. But I had to say it. I just, I can’t take this anymore. I can’t stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can’t-I can’t look into your eyes without feeling that-that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can’t talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are…
And, I blame Sean Connery in The Russia House:
I love you. All my failings were preparations for meeting you. It’s like nothing I have ever known. It’s unselfish love. Grown-up love. It’s mature, absolute, thrilling love. . . I’m with you. I know it now. . . You are my only country now.
And, Tom Cruise in Jerry McGuire:
I’m not letting you get rid of me. How about that? . . . I love you. You complete me.
Damn. I wonder what Netflix brought to the house today.
Book: Tapping (Back Into) Your Power
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Oooo, ladies. Have I got a recommendation for you!
You may have read this book years ago, like I did. But, I recently have been keeping it on my nightstand all the time. The book, you ask? The Princessa by Harriet Rubin. This book is Machiavelli for women. Have you read it?
I cannot even begin to do justice to this book with an explanation. But, suffice to say that it goes into strategies and tactics for building your own personal power (without just adopting more male energy.)
What has this got to do with being married later in life? Let me explain…
I first read this when I was in my late 20s. To sum up my 20s, I share with you what my mother said to me recently about who I was back then. You were worried, she said. All the time. Yep – that just about sums it up. I believe this is because we, in our 20s, are doing most things for the first time. So we are in a constant state of having to figure out what to do next. It’s not a very comforting decade.
But, now, even though I am reaching the mid point of my life, I am once again finding myself doing something rather big (read: marriage) that has me trying to figure things out, daily. It is sometimes worrying.
For one – and this is where getting back in touch with your own personal power and confidence is key – LBBs often find themselves swimming in this question: If I do XYZ, am I compromising myself thereby chipping away at who I am? Or is doing XYZ just adding value to the marriage and it really is no biggie? Another way to put it is, am I being selfish or am I staying true to myself? Hmmmm.
So, during those questioning times, I re-read parts of the Princessa. It just makes me feel better. It doesn’t necessarily give me answers. But, it reminds me that I am not powerless. And, sometimes that is all you need.
The book is short, and you can read the whole thing in one sitting. You can keep a copy of it in your purse (which Husband affectionately calls my suitcase) for those daily trying times. So, next time you feel the need for a power boost, I encourage you to pick it up.
Quote of the Week
Posted by: | CommentsAs for his secret to staying married: “My wife tells me that if I ever decide to leave, she is coming with me.”
~Jon BonJovi
