Pre Middle Age

Pre Middle Age Love

2011-02-14T12:08:00.000-08:00

(for all cole's content please visit premiddleage.com)

I’m not sure if it is love leaning against a shiny new 1960’s mustang with horn-rimmed glasses and a man that adores you.

Perhaps it’s the stoic sort of love that takes sunglasses and shades not the sun but the looks staring at a tear-stained face.

Or a door that either lets someone in or lets someone walk out.

But I love love. I love the messiness of it. I love the childlike excitement of it. I love the 1960ness of it. I love the grit of it in a strong woman that wants to be weak and a weak man that wants to be strong.

I love love. I love what it smells like in the morning and in the afternoon when it waits upon a call or a visit or a letter. And then evening love that comes with a moon and maybe some stars and the promise of kisses and whispers and tomorrows and todays and maybe much laters.

I love love. I love how it begins and I love how it ends and that it can take my very breath away with a glance or a thought or a sound or a memory.

In these years, these in between years. These years of not being young and not being old I take love and hold it tight and say yes to it and not no to it and am awed that it still chases after me and dares me
to…

Valentines Day 2011

shoes in my fridge.

2011-01-17T01:58:00.000-08:00

(for all Cole's content, please follow along at premiddleage.com now, muahh!)

I phoned Will from outside the car dealership.

Me: It’s a Sunday. Can you talk? Just for a minute.

Will: What happened?

Me: She was just sitting there with her extra large sandwich and her cigarettes and threw the car application at me. What is WRONG with people?

Will: What are you doing looking at cars? We just talked about this. Just last month we talked about how great you are doing, habibi.

And then the tears came.

Me: I went to the movies last night and saw Another Year and thought it was about an old couple in love but it was about their single lady friend who looks just wretched and wrinkled and old. And she doesn’t keep food in her fridge….JUST LIKE ME.

Will: Okay.

Me: And she didn’t have a caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar! JUST LIKE ME.

Will: Ahh.

Me: *tears and more tears and then sobs and more sobs* And I don’t want a car but I left the theatre and knew I had to fill up my fridge with food just so people would think I was normal cause doesn’t everyone have more than orange marmalade, soy, one egg and December milk in their fridge? And then I drove by all the closed dealerships looking for a car cause I need a car so people don’t think…so they don’t think…so they don’t think…

Will: So they don’t think you’re almost forty with no car and no food in your fridge, habibi?

Me: *tears*

Will: You are great. You are doing great. Remember how you told me movies aren’t real life. That real life is real life? Well, real life is real life, Nicolia. (He calls me Nicolia especially when he wants to make a financial point) Nicolia, you are the one I tell people about when I talk about someone growing up. You are paying your debt, you are living on “bread and salt”, you are being a church mouse and within a year you can go back to getting anything you want.

I almost made a 20K purchase because of a feeling I had in a movie. Wonder how often we buy on feeling. Homes, cars, clothes, electronics for you men folk. I walked away from the dealership to get sound financial advice from a friend and thankfully came to my senses. Well, then I got a grilled cheese. Cause that helps, too.

I won’t tell Will about the new navy suede pumps I bought yesterday. Or the black snake skin ones, either. They were on sale. Well, and then an extra 40% off and a coupon on top of that so practically free if you really think about it.

I might put them in my fridge.

Much love,
Cole

What's Your View?

2010-12-31T21:53:00.000-08:00

Brought to you by open doors.

I remember many New Year's Eve celebrations at my Mom and Pops. My parents would head out for some party at some place with some group of couples and we would tuck in for the night at my grandparents. I know there were warm tortillas filled with butter. There was certainly neapolitan ice cream with the choice of vanilla, strawberry or chocolate since my grandmother wanted to make sure everyone was always pleased. I'm sure there was a soft spot on a cool couch in a decked out basement of a huge home.

The last night of the year wasn't about big memories or big moments or big realizations. It was a small, silly, little celebration with some shouting and then some yawning and some rushing to bed at five after the hour.

But now, I'm grown up. And the day is The Day. And the night is The Night. And the end of the year is The End of The Year. And it's as simple as it is complicated. I've learned things. I've matured. I've blown it some. And then I've had some really big successes.

I thought of listing a bunch of things I learned but you could browse through my blog any darn day and see a year's worth. Today, what sums up This Today is that my view is the tree not the bus.

You see the bus ride. I see the tree when the bus door opens.

You see a flat tire. I see the stranger that stops to help.

You see me without a car. I see living without debt and within my means and great adventures and bus rides and rental cars and new car smell and learning how to find the windshield wipers and Snarky Brother laughing at me when I don't know how to open yet another gas tank.

You see McDonalds. I see a conversation with Ruth who desperately needs someone to listen to her stories. Oh, and their Diet Coke is SO good.

You see epilepsy. I see firecrackers. Uh, literally. And chance, and living like there's no tomorrow because there might not be.

You see my fabulous hair. Well, it's just fabulous.

You see no electricity. I see a symphony of quiet.

You see a broken heart. I see love peeking around the corner daring me to come out to play.

Sure, there are also parties and shopping and dates and kisses and lots of exciting things but my concern is, my thought is...are you seeing the bus or the trees in your life? Are you taking the time to notice The Pretty?

Dear friend. 2011 is sitting right in your pretty little hands. What's your view?

Much love to you at 9something on the last day of 2010.

Cole

Cole's Christmas Card (say that three times fast)

2010-12-18T12:53:00.000-08:00

Stories from Skid Row: The Christmas Story

2010-12-06T10:00:00.000-08:00

Brought to you by Stories from Skid Row and a precious, little animated girl.
Can I be honest? Uh, when have I ever not been.

God tends to lay thoughts on my heart first thing upon waking each morning. Today was no exception. I heard and felt, "GIVE." It wasn't audible, no but it was heavy and clear and I knew more than I knew anything else today that giving was something I needed to do.

Being the me that I am, I didn't pick up my mail again and had to run to the post office to go get a stack THIS BIG. Thankfully, the lady at the post office handed it to me without judgement for my continued neglect of all things organization. I ran through letter after letter and ad after ad and catalogue after catalogue and came across a huge bill that I was not expecting. THIS HUGE.

Kick in the gut. Especially during the holidays. Especially when you're in the middle of spending money on book marketing things of the book marketing sort.

I sat at the post office and wept. And not only wept but said to God, "I'm just about done. I've had it. I'm done." How do you give when you have no money to give?

And then, I saw this video. There's this sweet little girl with her long hair that makes me cry just thinking about how much she reminds me of me when I was her age. No, I didn't have the long locks til later in life but we share the same animation for all things Jesus and nativity sets. Wait til you see her throw gold and spray perfume. Your heart will melt.

She may not have a bill to pay. Her needs are much greater. She needs shelter and food and warm blankets and the love of people that say, "You matter!" Suddenly, this bill seems terribly insignificant.

Many, many of you have been hit hard with these financial times. And you're paying things and altering your life to live within your means instead of outside your means and I am walking right along side you. I know sometimes it is not easy. Today though. Simply today, remember it's much, much easier than this sweet little girl has it.

And yet in the midst she rejoices in a nativity scene and a promise.

Much love to you as we continue to learn from the very young and very wise,
Cole

What I Wanted to Say.

2010-11-22T19:03:00.000-08:00

Brought to you by $3.17 a gallon which I cannot believe seems like a good deal to me.

I was on my way back to take my rental, oh by the way hi...so I was on my way to take the rental back to Enterprise when I realized I needed to fill up the tank so I didn't pay $1,732.99 per gallon to fill it up.

I'm learning in my old age. You men are impressed, aren't you? Continuing...

So, I go to fill up the car, get out, put my debit card in and do the whole waiting at the gas tank thing that we all do when I noticed the "Push To Speak With Attendant" button. I stared at it. I wanted to press it. Badly. No, I mean not in the way where you want to ask a question for assistance but in a sort of "Hi, how are you today? I don't really need help but thought I'd say hi way." You know. Like that way.

I kept looking at the button and then looking inside to see who might answer my request and then wondering if they would call the Crazy Police on me for pressing it for a non gas emergency reason. Though not certain if one can be ticketed for pressing the help button I didn't want to take a chance. I'm trying to be responsible and all those sort of pre middle age things.

Still, what I wanted to do was press it and say hi.

And even this evening. The grandma that hurt herself last week at the corner market stopped by my office and wanted to thank me for sitting with her until the paramedics came. She has limited english and I have limited faarsi and what she wanted to say she couldn't. And what I wanted to say I couldn't. What I wanted to say was, "I'm glad you're alive and I don't want you out walking around without help and I'm nervous something is going to happen to you and by the way WHERE IS YOUR SWEATER?"

And my little, taller than me Snarky Brother. I stopped by his work today and have missed him and felt this really huge need to rush up and hug him even though our family is not much of the hugging sort. I saw him and he looked Snarky as ever and not in the hugging mood and what I wanted to say was, "I had another seizure last night and I'm so tired of them but just in case one of these is The Big One I want to hug you so that there will be a hug on the record and just deal with it." I didn't. I smiled and chatted about nonsense and walked away.

I should have pressed the button at the gas station and talked to the attendant. Who knows if they were in utter turmoil at that very moment and I could have offered a gas station word of encouragement.

I should have told the grandma to sit down and found her a blanket and loved on her a bit instead of nodding my head and smiling and having pleasantries that don't amount to much of anything.

And I should have hugged my brother and then called The Elder and told him how very much I love him. Just because and just in case and just cause that's what you should do rather than not doing it.

What I wanted to say to you all is that I'm indebted to you for reading my words and for loving on me and caring and finding joy and some understanding from the details of my life.

Much love to you as you find the things you want to say and then say them,
Cole

Lessons in Love and Epilepsy

2010-11-07T19:15:00.000-08:00

Brought to you by last night's insane seizure and today's fabulous nap.

I was just thinking how it's been SO long since my last seizure and even the last one was SO minor I could barely feel it and aren't I becoming the epilepsy poster child?

Not so much.

Last night was an ass kicking of sorts.

And no one is to blame except for me. Give me the epilepsy ticket if they are in the Giving Tickets Out sort of mood. I have been going to sleep at 4am working way too late on my book. I missed taking my medicine one night which is one night too many when you have seizures. I had (a beer). Shh. Don't tell my dad. Yes, I think many people with epilepsy drink on occasion but, for me, since I'm not much the drinker it doesn't set well with my brain. Oh, and there was that half glass of champagne the night before. And I think I had red wine somewhere on Sunday.

Don't tell my dad ANY of that. Yes, I know I'm 38.

So, it was the perfect storm and I should have seen it coming when that dog staring out the back of that wagon Volvo at McDonald's locked eyes with me and wouldn't move away. Dogs know about seizures the way people don't. He knew even though I thought he was a she but then looked down and saw things hanging that were clearly of the he type. The dog knew. It crossed my mind that I knew. I went about my day and stayed up late again and didn't even think last night could have been MY last night.

It was a big one. My brain shuddered. I kept my breathing even. Did all the things I know to do but then my damn face turned into the pillow Flo-Jo style. Remember her? Long nails, Olympic athlete. Well, without the nails or the running or the cool outfit I was her for a moment and I didn't want my face in a pillow with no ability to move. I wanted a clear passage to breathe through this seizure until it ended.

It felt like it would never end.

It did. I lived. I quickly fell back asleep out of an exhaustion most cannot imagine. When I awoke in the morning I did the first post seizure thing I always do - checked to see if I knew what year it is and went through the past presidents. Clinton's in office, right? Check. Knew 'em. Brain still semi-intact.

And then I wept.

I wept for being alive. Wept for having my face smothered in a pillow. Clearly you should know that makes me not a fan of The CSI's. Wept for almost not living. Wept for people that don't. Wept for those that have seizures in the middle of crowds. Wept for being alone through it and being grateful no one had to go through that scare with me. And wept that God gave me another day, even if just one more, to be a better me than I was yesterday.

My friend Red sent me a message and wants me to stop using pillows. My brother said the same. I've thought about it but I've made a decision. I'm not going to live a life without pillows. It's sort of like love, you know? Yes, a pillow could smother me that one time...that one night but the rest of the time it's so damn comfy and brings great pleasure to my life. I don't want to live in fear with my head flat on the ground.

And love. Sure, it could smother me sometimes, too. That one time and that one night and the one man that breaks the heart might not be worth the pain but I don't want to spend my life without love in fear. I'll still search it out and be open to it and say yes to it.

I decided some time ago to say yes and not to say no to things. I decided to take adventures and have a YES life. Is there a chance it could end up bad? Yup. I'll take the chance anyway.

Pillow. Love. Any of it.

Much love and gratitude for one more day to love and learn and change and grow and be something better,
Cole

October Lessons

2010-10-30T10:00:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by candy, of the sweet sort.

It's been an interesting fall, hasn't it? Today was warm and yesterday, while setting up for our event, I was shielding my face from the sun in the hopes of adding not one more brown spot to this pre middle age face. I'm not sure how successful I was. I might start wearing a bag over it so if you see me and I don't wave, well, now you know why.

An interesting fall it has been and even a better October full of bits of learnings and lessons and things I didn't know and now I do. And I don't mean know in a BIG way but in that small tucked into your brain way that hopefully gets to the juicy parts and does the right amount of damage. You know? Makes change, bit by bit.

I learned...

1. If a woman comes up to you, in a witch costume, beer in hand and starts yelling at you take it with a grain of witch-beer-infused salt. She's probably a little intoxicated and even though all of her meanness comes out in her heightened beer state and that witch costume might just be Business Casual and not for Halloween, chances are she didn't mean to curse you, your future children or children's children.

2. Saying sorries a decade later is good. Saying them in a year is better. Saying them in a month is really good. The same week or day? Rather brilliant. Imagine if you apologized immediately after making an ass out of yourself, you know, the very next moment? That would be downright emotionally mature. Plus it feels good to say sorry when you tell your bartender to, "Get this effin bar together. Now!" Yes, that was me. Ugh.

3. Take responsibility. If you screw up, don't lay blame elsewhere. Own it. Not more than your part and not less than your part, just your part. Be the exact opposite of every politician you know and forget about putting spin on your story. Simply, say, "I blew it but I'm going to try not to blow it again." How quickly we could move on if we'd take some ownership instead of mastering spin.

4. Share. Try your absolute hardest to think of someone before yourself. I saw grown adults maul a candy bar and little kids stand there with empty trick or treat bags. That's not right, folks. If you look around you, see - you there looking to the right and to the left - there are other people besides you. Notice them and include them and think of them when you are filling your bag to the brim. I think our bags are filled to the brim in many ways and can be shared with someone else. Who needs your share?

5. Talk to strangers. I don't mean in that sordid pedophile way. I mean talk to a stranger that is ten feet away from you and you've nodded at or waved to or thought of saying more than a hi or bye with for months. Those strangers. Have conversations that last longer than a sound bite. Ask someone about their day or their life or their greatest love. Imagine what you'd find out if you took the time to meet someone new.

6. Hot chocolate helps. It helps everything. Well, when it's 83 degrees out it's a little strange but on most October days if you'll trust me and order it and add whip cream even though that will be so anti-wellness of you, it will help everything. You'll feel better and younger and you'll remember you from back when you were...you.

7. Like your likes. My niece Kristina just got her license which technically means she could drive when we go to LACMA but I'm not much of the "driving with a brand new driver on the freeway" sort of girl. I think if you get the blessing of having children then you get the blessing of their freeway firsts, too. So, Darling Girl wants to Museum Hop with me which makes me ultra happy and as we chatted I realized her tastes in art are very different than mine. I like that. I don't need her to like my likes. Are you liking your likes? I hope so.

I ended today at a wake celebrating the life of a dear family friend. Ninety-six years of life lived by a woman that chose to be full of grace and full of civility and showed love and kindness each time I encountered her.

That's my goal. I want that in my life. Bits of learning and changes and growth and being less like today and more like I want to be tomorrow. Oh, that's the plan anyway. Sometimes I blow it and sometimes my days are a smashing success. Today, well, today was a good one.

Much love to you as we peak our heads around the corner at November,
Cole

Lessons in Best and Worst

2010-10-18T00:58:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by my favorite cream sort of peasant top that I love so much I bought two.

I asked you. I did. I asked you two things.
1. What was the best part of your weekend?
2. What was the worst part of your weekend?

And normally I gear the question to the ladies cause you men tend to hold back your words but you answered too and I love that.Wanna know mine?

The Best
Sitting around a dining room table BS’ing with my brother and sister-in-law. Riding in the car with Baby Brother. Darling Nieces Sweet Sixteen. Setting out platters. Decorating for things other than work. Hearing the high pitched scream only someone in their teens can master. Hot chocolate. The slight mist of rain that almost isn’t rain but puts a glow on traffic lights. Losing weight and not knowing it cause the scale hasn’t been working but you have. The whooshing of wet wheels on wet roads. Getting closer to the finish line of my first race. Street lamps. Front porches. Remembering being Evil Knievel Brave as a child and thinking that might come back. Detailed dreams without endings. Three books, dog-eared. Inspiring a love of museums in you. Air conditioning and windows open…cause I pay the bill.

The Worst
A remembering cry of grief that came from my toes and out of the top of my head. The second row of the theater. An empty tank of gas. Not having a band aid big enough for your wound.

And then it hits me. The Worst are still good even when they are bad.

My cry of grief was healing and brief and beautiful and muffled and I got through it quick because I knew where to go. And the second row of the theater isn’t wretched. I mean it’s not like I didn’t have somewhere to live. It was more an arching of the neck sort of in the middle of entertainment complaint. How bad can that really be? And an empty tank of gas? That means there’s a car to be filled and that’s pretty cool because I can fill it and take a couple adventures! And not having a band aid big enough for your wound - your loss, your hurt, your anger, your frustration, your unknown. I do have one, I do. The only place I know to go is to God. Maybe you have somewhere else and, hey, make it happen if it works for you. But I’ve tried Mint Chip Ice Cream. It melts.

You all shared some of your best and worst this week with me. I love when you share. It’s sort of like pre-school but for us Pre Middle Agers. Kinda cool, you know?

The Best
Homecoming. Cuddling with Sailor Boy. Discussing Rapture and sex in same bible study. Taking son and daughter to a college expo. Son and friend built me a fence. Sex, diamonds, whisky, loved ones. Dancing at House of Blues while my hub and kids were home sleeping! Did my 10th race.

The Worst
Laryngitis. Sailor Boy puking on fave pair of heels. Sudden migraine on lazy Saturday. Weekend ending. The rain and…it’s cold! A misunderstanding. Not getting enough sleep (baby didn’t care mommy stayed out late!) Suffering from injuries.

Much love to you this quiet night with one car whooshing past every now and then and the occasional rain drop,
Cole

Lessons in Secrets

2010-10-09T00:18:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by things my mother told me never to do and the fall, 'cause I like it.

My mother always said we could never
1. Get a tattoo. I didn't and then she died so I never can.
2. Take out gum at church and certainly never in public unless "you have enough to share with everyone". Everyone is a lot of damn people.
3. Whisper. She hated whispering and to this day I do, too. Whispering oozes of things you want to say to one person and not to many persons. Whispering is about things that are private. I'm much more the public sort.

And to be honest, this past month has been a brainful. So, until I could gather the thoughts in my pretty, dirty blonde, roots showing head I felt it best to stay on the silent side of things.

The secret is though....the whisper in your ear though....the thing you know though is that there are things that sit heavy on my heart and for today, I'll share the ones that comes easily to mind:

I'm embarrassed for complaining about not having a car for two weeks, getting a rental today and then seeing a homeless man riding a bicyle with his belongings. I'm tearing up now thinking about how ungrateful I sounded this past 14 days. I have a beautiful, safe home and heat and water and sometimes electricity when I remember to pay the bill. And there is food to eat and people to check on me. And seeing a man near 80 years old quietly riding his dilapitated bicycle loaded with the contents of his life made me shudder. I'm sad tonight about that. It's not okay and being unsettled about it is good.

At my very core, I'm brilliantly scatterbrained. I could start a million companies and, more than likely, at least ten more tonight with a good cup of hot chocolate in hand. It wouldn't do you or me or anyone else any good. I don't like that about me. I want to do one thing well and then maybe add a second thing.

I'm sort of selfish. Yah. I've been tired of late. I've wanted Me Time and not You Time and finally understand when people have asked the same of me. Occassionally you just need to put the "Closed For Business" sign up and mine is going up more often than it used to. For sanity, for business, for the sake of growing a personal life that sometimes bleeds into a very public life, I need to once in awhile put up the sign. I hope you'll love me in spite of that. I hope you'll trust I'll come back more energized when I open for business each time next.

I get frustrated. I was sitting at Happy Nails getting a pedicure today and a grown daughter and her mom were sitting side by side completely ignoring each other on their mobiles. On the rare occassion they would say something to each other but it was limited. Then they would go back to their phones. I wanted to scream, "Tell each other you love each other! Say you're mad. Say you're happy. Say something!" I wonder sometimes if it's better if I simply pick up a magazine and disengage but I'm not sure how to once I've put my life in Drive.

Those are some of my secrets. The only time my mom said it was okay to whisper was in libraries or, I guess, at funerals. Definitely, most definitely it wasn't okay to whisper to tell a secret. "What you have to say to her, you can say to everyone."

So...Everyone...I'm a human being but you already knew that. And I love that you love me in spite of that.

A couple more lessons for the road, shall we?
1. Imagine closing every door gently. Say goodbye to The Slam.
2. Celebrate things like National Peanut Butter Cup Day.
3. Bake rather than buy. Your perfect is prettier than their perfection.
4. Read your pissy emails three times before you send them and delete them before you send them. So, umm, don't send them.
5. Let people cut in front of you to build your patience.
6. Don't pick Pre Middle Age fights. You're too Pre Middle Age old.
7. Sure, McNuggets are made out of chicken bone and chicken eyelid paste (allegedly) but try to find a better Diet Coke.
8. Men - learn to hold doors for women even if no one taught you to growing up.
9. Women - learn to let men hold doors for you even if no one taught you to growing up.
10. Be nicer. Not meaner.

Much love in the loudest non whisper I can muster on this sweet fall night,
Cole

Lessons in Yoga

2010-08-26T00:57:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by fake nails. Ten of them.

Reasons to take The Damn Yoga. In no particular order.

Increased energy.
Roman sat down next to me yesterday and when I complained about being so tired thinking I might be pregnant which is impossible since it requires sex he asked, “Maybe it’s that hot flash thing?”

Camaraderie.
I walked up to someone’s desk this week and said, “You didn’t help me pick music so Saturday, you can ZIP IT.” That’s not in most teambuilding books.

Step Relations.
My Stepmother. Even looking at her made me ill this past Sunday. She doesn’t like me and I’m doing my best to love her. I think Yoga would make me adore her. All those endorphins and “I Think My Stepmom Is The Bomb” type feelings will come rushing in when she looks me up and down. I just know it.

Traffic Safety.
I’m certain the practice will center me more and my frequency of hitting cement poles will lesson. And, rather than brake checking close drivers like my niece advises, I will continue to get out of my car and tell drivers to CHILL. Still hoping they are not packin and thus yoga attenders as well.

General Overall Peace, Love and Coleness.
I need this. The sound of someone getting their fake nails filed (who still does that?) makes me want to run into oncoming traffic. That’s when you know you need The Damn Yoga. And when you call it The Damn Yoga instead of Yoga, that’s when you really need The Damn Yoga. I can feel the deep breaths already.

Where’s my mat? I lose it every six months or so. Think it’s under the kitchen sink. Still wish I could spray paint it brown.

Human, full of flaws and moments I wish I was better and not worse,
Cole

Lessons from Toys 'R' Us

2010-08-03T22:38:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by Play-Doh and the smell of it squishing between your adult fingers.

I was on the hunt for the perfect, huge doll house to hold down 1000 balloons Friday night for an event Saturday which is the way I do things. I wait until the night before or the moment before and try to make perfection happen.

Toys 'R' Us was all out of perfect, huge doll houses. They had lots of small, lovely, dainty ones and pretty, delicate, tiny ones that would break if you looked at them wrong. Those type don't hold down 1000 balloons. They cry in the corner at the thought of 1000 balloons.

Still, I learned a couple things during my Toys 'R' Us visit.

1. Middle aged men should probably not roam the store smelling of beer and hovering in the Barbie aisle. Can you say creepy and cops are on the way?
2. If you are single and childless or have long since entered a toy store of this sort, follow a parent-type in. They know the entrances from the exits and will help you from looking like a jacka**.
3. Toy stores are not really intimidating. Simply think of them like giant Targets but with sirens and eternal supplies of batteries.
4. Everybody needs a pink Barbie microphone. (I'll be right back.)
5. If you see a stuffed hippo sitting all by himself, yes him, it is your duty to save. Try not to talk to Jack, yes Jack, in a loud voice for fear of someone taking you out in a straight jacket.
6. Play-Doh helps. It helps in nearly any situation. I gave some to a co-worker today that was having a tough go of things. If you squish it between your hands and smell the Play-Dohness of it all, you'll begin to feel much better, much sooner than if you don't. Promise.
7. The woman in front of you in line that is melting down because she doesn't have her Toys 'R' Us Rewards card needs: to get a grip and wear denim shorts that cover her fifty year old a**. (Wait a second while I light your cigarette. Ugh.)
8. Don't get mad at the check out guy for asking Would you like batteries with your purchase? even if you don't need batteries for your stuffed hippo or your Play-Doh. He's doing his job and following the sign and if he doesn't ask he's going to get written up so go along with it and thank him for asking. Just play along, won't you?
9. Look. Look at the six foot tall man made out of Legos and stop to stare at the new backpacks coming in just in time for Back to School and think about your excitment when you would pick out your backpack and how important that was and then, for a moment, spend some time bouncing a big, red, rubber ball, well, just because it's in that bin. You don't have to pretend to be a child but you can still play. No one said you can't.

Much play to you,
Cole

Lessons in Messy, Beachy Love

2010-08-01T22:00:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by 1962 and 1963 for that matter.

This shot was taken 48 years ago this summer. It's my mom and my dad and one year before their wedding day, today. Thinking back on their love. Messy, beachy love. Love that sometimes slammed doors and didn't talk in the morning but by midday couldn't stay away from each other sort of love. Love that said I choose you even though sometimes I cannot stand you. Love that went to the beach hating the sand because you were happiest there. Love that lived at your bedside when you were ill. Really ill. Like going home ill. That sort of love.

Missing my mother today but not nearly as much as my father is.

Wishing you a love like that and then some,

Cole

Lessons in Details and Gratitude

2010-07-23T15:10:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by a McDonald's large, not medium, Diet Coke.

It's Friday and the end of a very, ultra busy event week. I have sore everything and things are throbbing that shouldn't throb. On top of that, on a morning where I should bask in the glory of my amazingness, which is what I do the mornings after events, I had a press conference to stage.

*cursing under my breath and out of my bed which I did not want to get out of*

It's post press conference. I park underground, come inside my apartment, kick off my heels and instantly feel grateful. I mean grateful in the hugest way someone can feel grateful. Grateful like empire state building or egyptian pyramid big grateful. That grateful. But it's for the little things. The detail things.

Here's a couple I thought I'd share.

Feet free from four inch heels. Large diet cokes when you normally get medium diet cokes - especially hot days with air conditionless cars. Service managers that say, "I know others don't see but I see you - you have your eye on everything, Cole. I see." Sunglasses that shade harsh sun and brief frustrations. Showing grace when I only want to show 'strangle'. Home air conditioning set low and then lower again. Mixing up all The Godfather movies to make my own synopsis. Assistants that finish my sentences and understand my different head nods. Men that remember. Summers. Being called a sexy, smart damsel in distress. Working until my team stops working. Necklaces that turn into bracelets that turn into sometime belts. Tears that last three minutes instead of three days. Sweaters. Messy beachy hair. Almost biting my nail but then not because things really are okay. Little boys with summer tans that scrunch their noses when they answer you. Girls that proclaim their favorite color is pink until their favorite color is green. Oh, and nicknames. I love a good nickname.

I like details. I love the little things. I'm enjoying this summer, this Can't Decide If I'm Going To Be Hot Or Cold Summer. It's fickle. I understand it. It's sort of like a woman that way. I get that.

Much love to you as you pay attention to the little details of your very big every days,
Cole

Lessons in Wills

2010-07-14T15:23:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by the year 2003. I wondered a bit on Twitter yesterday if Will would phone me from the airport as he headed out to Cairo. You see, he always does that and normally the calls are full of him out of breath as he races for the check-in or sits down in his seat. He generally runs late, Will does but he always, always phones me to say he's on the plane and to say goodbye and we have our chat about us. That's just what we do, Will and I.

Things are changing though. This trip to Cairo Will is getting married and not to me. And you may wonder how my soul is resting with that. I'll have to let you know Monday. He's sending me the feed so I can watch him take his vows live. A little twisted watching the former, first love of my life get married to someone else? No, not at all. When you love someone from the gut and know they aren't for you and that they are for someone else, you even want to be there for the big moments even if the big moments aren't for you.

So my phone rings and it's Will and it's the last call he's going to make to me as "us". You know...I'm not going to be first or even second probably not third on his phone anymore. I'm sure I haven't been for sometime. Still, he makes the call and it goes something like this:

Cole: Are you on the plane?

Will: Seat 29. (Will is a nano engineer and likes to get to the point)

Cole: Really? You called. You did.

Will: Seat 29. I told you.

Cole: What if I told you I loved you. Would you change your mind?

Will: Come on. First of all, you're not in love with me. Second, you're still a lion and the only benefit to marrying you is having white babies. Maybe I should marry you. (Will is Egyptian and desperately wants white babies)

Cole: What time is the ceremony?

Will: I'll send you the link. You can watch it live. I'll even wave goodbye to you. (brutal, he is)

Cole: I love you. I love you. I love you. You gave me the best of everything.

Will: Stop it. I'm not dying. Not til I marry this one anyway. Then you two can fight over who speaks at my funeral. No, Habibti, you gave me the best, first six years in America I could imagine. I love you. I'm going to bring The Wife (that's what we call her) to California and she's going to like you. I'm going to make her like you.

I walked back inside my office and Miss Chloe, my assistant asked if I was okay. With tears in my eyes, the only thought I can muster is I feel sentimental. Not sad, not depressed, not regretful...full of memories and adoration for a man that helped raise me into a full pre middle age woman.

I do less stomping of my feet because of you, Habibi. I am calmer because of you. I've been to places I never would have seen and met people I never would have met. And learned a language that some see as so harsh but I hear such beauty in. You opened my heart to another world and gave me a million memories that I'll paper someday.

For now my heart is grateful, so grateful, for an airplane call.

Cole

Lessons in Crowds

2010-07-05T16:14:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by sparklers and the joy of writing your name with one.

Sunday night and I had two fairly enticing options: go to Pacific Symphony's Firework event at Verizon Wireless Ampitheater or grab a bottle of wine, some very bbq-ish food, sit on the hood of my car and watch fireworks old school.

I did a little of both. I'm sorta like that.

I like days that don't have much in the way of structure to them. Come when you want and go when you want and have dinner when you want and eat macaroni and cheese with bacon when you want. Those sort of days. Today was one of them. I finished with a perfectly greasy meal and, it being still light out, figured heading over to the ampitheater might be worth while.

It was.

So, there was this perfectly lovely event and as it ended there were sudden mad dashes for the exit. Rather than join the crowd, I sat back and...watched.

There are interesting things to see when you watch the crowd.

The Hand Gesturer.
He's standing in the midst of the crowd and melting down. Though I do think he's talking to himself as a coping mechanism and I can completely appreciate that. It's the hand gestures that make me wonder if he's going to pull a machete anytime soon and take out half of Orange County. Keep thinking of happy, soft places, sir. You're almost out of the crowd.

Look at Me Guy.
He speaks loud enough for half of the crowd to hear him, "I'm SO glad we got the good seats and not the ones 30 rows back. Aren't YOU?" He sees me roll my eyes at him and quiets down a bit. I'm not fond of The Loud having been one in my past life.

The Comedian.
Okay, my favorite. Mid to late fifties, walking down the stairs and getting in the crowds, always looking for the laugh sort of guy. He says, "I lost my wife, but that's okay. If you find her you can have her." His wife is right behind him rolling HER eyes.

Sequined Hat Woman.
She's around 84 and is wearing a sequined top hat that has been sat on at least 37 times. If you saw the way she wore it though you'd smile like I did. She walks by me and I mention my admiration. Her response, "It's old but I'm never going to stop wearing it." When you're 84, the style rules no longer apply to you.

(Please, please shoot me in the back of the head if I turn into a sequined top hat wearing old woman. Please.)

No, this wasn't the same crowd as the Sting concert and there weren't waitresses coming by for my drink order and the line for the disabled shuttle was longer than the VIP drink line. Still, I think the stories this crowd could tell would be richer any day. At the end of the event, the conductor of the symphony honored the members of the armed forces by playing each of the marches. As they played you saw young and old stand and reach across aisles to salute and nod at each other. Nods full of layers. Nods full of life. Nods full of sacrifice and struggle and decisions.

You get to wear a freakin' sequined top hat when you've sacrificed for your country. And you get to talk to yourself in crowded lines that make you nervous when you've given years in service for our freedom. And you get to make silly cracks at your wife's expense when you have to leave your country and work overseas. And you get to talk overly loud.....well, no....you don't get to do that, sir. You're still too loud.

A big, sequined, sparkler written thank you.
Cole

Lessons in Names

2010-06-22T12:28:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by The Cheesecake Factory.

Her name is Arden. Did you know that? And did you know she has a really cool job and the dress she wore yesterday was this beautiful fitted black thing, the kind you wear when you want to act like you don't want people to look at you but you really want them to look at you.

I didn't know any of that.

Her name is Arden. And for all intents and purposes, she hated me. Every encounter we had at one of my events was negative. I was always asking her to leave the jacuzzi since we still had to tear down an event or take her alcohol outside because our caterer does not permit outside alcohol. She used to just roll her eyes and walk away and then, one day, recently she stared at me with what could only be described as hatred. I looked at her and said, "You really don't like me, do you?" It's a rare thing for a person not to like me.

Annoyed? Sure. Exhausted? Of course. Needing a break or vacation from All Things Cole? Definitely. But not like? That stings in ways that get to the heart. I'm someone people like. I'm a person to know. Not in a fancy papparazi block my eyes from the cameras way but in a knowing way.

My birthday came around and the whole Cole's 38 Mitzvah Project thing started and Arden stayed on my mind. Truthfully, I couldn't get her off my mind during this whole project. I'm not okay with people being at odds with me, especially when my hearts intent, it's song is to love on people. I kept trying to think of a way to talk to her but didn't know how or what to do.

It happened. As naturally as if it was ordained. I was sitting in my office and looking at a gift card my family gave me and Arden walked by which she never does. I asked her to come into my office. The first thing I did was:

1. Ask her name. How many people do we interact with and don't even take the time to know them by name?
2. Apologized for not knowing her name and for not getting to know her. She only knew me as the "rules" woman and not the woman.
3. Told her a little about me. Engagement goes two ways. If you want someone to let you in, you've got to let them in, too.
4. Ask forgiveness. For being all about work and not about people. For not doing this sooner.
5. Gave. I gave her the gift card and asked her to please have lunch on me.

This sweet girl who had so much anger towards me...melted. Literally melted. Her shoulders dropped. Her countenance shifted. Her voice went from aggressive to soft and sweet. She realized I was human and she realized I knew she was one, too.

There are a million reasons why our first reaction is anger or hurt or aggression and it takes time to sort through that, sure. But when, if, you have the chance to push through to the side of love, I challenge you to do it. You might get eye rolls or the silent treatment. Or you might find an Arden with a soft, soft heart waiting for someone to find it.

Much love to you this early Summer day,
Cole

Cole's 38 Mitzvah Project: Turned 40!

2010-06-18T11:59:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by....you and your brilliant levels of generosity.

The Project continues through the weekend. Here's the link if you want to read more and participate Cole's 38 Mitzvah Project

Here's what you had to say:

Took an extra day for a coworker that had to leave early.
Paid for a slurpee the kid behind me in line was going to buy.
I paid for the guy behind me at the drive thru at McDonald's the other day. (don't judge it's my once a week brekky treat) Brekky being Aussie...we went international, baby!
Donated a car.
Head of security for a company that is generally mean decided to be nice for one day. Only one.
I forgave a friend who said really hurtful things to me when intoxicated one night.
I'm making a meal for my friend who just had a baby.
I'm bringing soup and movies to my friend who is bedridden after surgery.
I'm making several meals-to-freeze for a friend who is having a baby tomorrow, as well as going over there to do chores next weekend.
I'm helping out a teacher friend who is switching classrooms - so much stuff to move in a short amount of time.
I bought groceries for a family in need.
Making dinner for my sisters family tonight.
Helped a lost little boy.
Bought a special set of cookie cutters that a family really wanted but couldn't afford and shipped to them.
Purchased a significant item for someone to start their business.
Let Cole go without a ticket since it was her birthday: Newport Beach Police Department. (My new favorite police department...this week anyway)
I decided some money I had set aside was better spent on someone else's need. So I decided to help that person.
I did something for someone unto you (and Jesus) today..and think the dude was blown away. Thanks for the idea!
I gifted in honor of you today.
Handing out lottery tickets randomly today. Happy birthday weekend to @PreMiddleAge for suggesting random acts of kindness. :)
Let someone cut in line after waiting 30 minutes which meant I would wait another 30 minutes.
Bought breakfast for someone and didn't wait for a thank you.
My mitzvah in your honor - I donated $5 in your name to Skip1.org. I skipped a latte for you and donated that money to help underprivileged children in a 3rd world country.
Happy Birthday!!! I did cover a coffee for an older gent behind me today at Bucks. May your evening be wonder-filled and janky-free.
Happy Birthday Cousin! Bought the men at the hockey game water in your honor. They're grown ups now so they don't have their mommies reminding them to bring their water bottles. Hope you have had a great day!
We brought cookies to a friend who is home on maternity bedrest.
I gave money anonymously to a guy who lost his home in a flood here in Texas last week.
I bought my sister a refrigerator.
I give Gatorade to homeless people.
I gave money to a kid going overseas as a missionary.
I donated to a charity bike ride by driving my truck doing SAG support for a bike ride instead of participating in order to give back to the cycling community that I have enjoyed.
I volunteered at a Women's triathlon (which I admittedly considered a form of speed-dating). (27-32 all being the same gent. sexy, huh?)
Tonight at (a) restaurant I paid for everyone's dinner in honor of your 38 Mitzvahs.
A tired mom at target forgot to pay for the wipes in the bottom of her cart. I added them to my order. She hugged me saying, "No one is kind!" That is both the sweetest and saddest thing to hear someone say.
Bought lunch for three women that, for various reasons, couldn't be with their dads on Father's Day.
Bought a Sprinkles cupcake for a lady in line who was about to meltdown from the wait. She proceeded to tell me how she helps "The Mexicans", not realizing "A Mexican" bought her an effin cupcake.
Someone liked my necklace and I told them to stop by my house and pick up the other one I bought. Someone else liked it, too, so we went to the store and bought another one.
Gave a grip of drinks to a family sitting at the beach that didn't have any.
Gave a gift card to a woman that couldn't stand me.
I forgave my ex-husband for being himself. This was a real milestone that I have been working on for years. your note reminded me that forgiveness is Not a Feeling, it is a Choice. Thanks Cole.

Beautiful ways you have shown love to people.

Much love from a very warmed birthday almost forty year old but not quite forty year old heart,
Cole

38 Mitzvahs: Cole's Birthday Project

2010-06-08T21:51:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by the numbers: 1, 16, 37 15/16 and almost forty!

It’s that time. That time when I turn another year closer to middle age but remain pre middle age. There are more wrinkles. More lessons. More bruises. Certainly more age spots. And for those of you that attempt to call them freckles, they aren’t. They are the same ones my Mamma had. Admit it.

I love it all because it means I’ve another year under my belt in being humbled and humiliated and humored. Another year of lessons and love and life. Another year of learning and listening. Another year of setting down stones instead of throwing them.

Growing up sucks sometimes but if it means when I’m 83 I’ll finally be nice and graceful and kind and perhaps a bit wise, well, then, what the hell…I’m in.

THE PROJECT.
Rather than getting presents, I’m requesting and challenging you to perform ONE MITZVAH, one act of kindness, by June 16 in honor of my birthday. My goal is for 38 acts of kindness to be performed. Really, I’m hoping for many more but I like themes. (I’m an event planner.)

Some things people did last year for our project:
Bought a homeless woman breakfast. Put an extra special snack in their kids lunch. Babysat for a couple so they could go out. Gave money to a charity. Bought coffee at Starbucks for strangers. Paid an elderly couples dinner tab anonymously. Forgave. Asked forgiveness.

Join me? Forward this link to your friends? Giving everyday is beautiful but if you’d give for my birthday that would really bless me and bless someone else and probably bless you, too. Share and we’ll post what happens from Twitter, My Blog and Facebook.

Much love from an almost forty year old
(37 15/16 sounds so much better),
Cole

Lessons in Towing and Orgasms

2010-05-28T23:59:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by Abdul who also had his car (Range Rover his father bought him) towed.

First of all, never tweet @SvenJohnston and let him know you hope to have more car stories for him soon. I consider this partially his fault.

Well, and then The Boy gets blame for some of it, too. I parked the Prius and came inside to change for the evening. Was planning to go shopping and maybe see a movie or something. I went into the bedroom and The Boy was on my mind. I did it. You know. It. Twice. And really well. I mean not as well as, well, with..you know, but, good enough to make me lay down for a moment exhausted and not realize that my freaking Prius was outside being towed....

...Mid-Orgasm.

There is something so completely wrong about that. And so right. Tonight's orgasm cost me $265.00. Well $265.00 if I can pick it up by 11:59pm.

Some lessons learned.

1. Yelling in the space where towed car once was will not make it suddenly appear. Neither will scowling.

2. Today's event finds in Abbot Kinney make up for tonight. Think on the good things. Sometimes there's only a few. Sometimes only one. Sometimes only a half.
3. If you are a person that tends to have car traumas then create an emergency kit. Include in it: Diet Coke, BBQ Chips, mandm's and one person that will come get your ass in under 10 minutes.
4. Towing of cars is not really a disaster. Disasters are disasters.
5. Be kind to the guy who has your car on lockdown. He gets treated really poorly all the time. Try to bring out the soft spots in his heart. Or, just make sure your car gets back to the 'free' side of the gate before you threaten him bodily harm. I, for one, was very sweet even when he had to pry the debit card from my death grip.
6. For God's sake, keep your phone charged. There are pictures to take of these moments.
7. When the opportunity arises, practice your Arabic. I mean, don't ignore people. The UAE Boys were waiting there in pain with me. And I don't know if their tow was a result of orgasms or not but in either case, just get to know people. I used the little Arabic I have and they used their sweet English and we made the most of our waiting.

8. Whatever you do, don't park your car in the Tow and Mo lot. They will even tow you there. Right over the damn fence. Brutal.
9. Count the stars. I walked outside to wait my turn for my car. All of a sudden I heard crickets. Beautiful almost summer crickets. And looking up there was a star but not just one, twenty and probably many more if I kept looking and counting. So many things to see if you get outside your head. I decided not to focus on what I was losing (money, time, an evening out) but what the night let me gain and it was beautiful. Really beautiful.
10. Oh, and I guess park underground just in case you're feeling randy. But how do you know til you know. (Geez.)

A very starry, almost summer, cricket-filled love,
Cole

Lessons in Road Trips

2010-05-24T12:24:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by the 101, Sheryl Crow, Natalie Merchant and, well, yes....cupcakes. (one)

I had an urgent need to rent a car and head north this weekend. Something in my brain and in my heart is feeling full of uncertainty in nearly every area of my life and the only thing that made sense was to drive.

I learned a couple things along the way. Well, you knew that, didn’t you? *smile*

1. The guy behind the counter has big dreams.
My car is janky, that has been made clear by now and the need for me to rent something less-janky was apparent. I went to Enterprise and ended up with a sweet ride at a sweet deal. More importantly, Enterprise Guy Behind The Counter Reading Kurt Vonnegut surprised me. Not only was he kind, major Enterprise Shocker but he spilled his guts, “This isn’t what I want to be doing.”

How many can echo that statement?

He’s a writer and he doesn’t know what to do and it sounds like no one believes in him. Well, I do. And I did. And I gave him some very good tips wrapped in a very good cheer and went on my way. He walked back behind the counter in his black suit with an extra creative skip in his step.

2. Stop for blueberries.
When you see a sign that says, “Blueberries Ahead ¾ of a mile” you stop. You do. And stop for other such things. Make hard rights instead of staying on the path and on your itinerary. If blueberries present themselves, well, then blueberries shall be.

3. Ask your expert advisor.
I have finally learned to rely on my expert advisors especially when it comes to bakeries. They know things, those bakery girls. Ask them what people order the most and get that. Don’t get the other thing. And definitely don’t get the thing you ALWAYS order. That’s the last thing you want to do on a road trip. Blah.

Oh, and buy sweet orange marmalade with pretty pink labels because it would be a crime not to. (I love pink bakery boxes with tape on the side and the ones tied with string make me want to swoon.)

4. A mess is okay.
Yesterday I played Natalie Merchant most of the day while driving and although I adore her if I heard, “If no one ever marries me” one more time I was going to drive my car into The Pacific and keep my seatbelt on. I switched things up to Sheryl Crow today and she had a nice, really multicultural mix going on and that set well with my soul. And one song, whether you agree with the message or not, had a great line, “God bless this mess.”

God bless this mess. That’s me. That’s my life right about now. It’s a little messy. I’m a bit out of sorts. That’s what all the driving is about and needing to move and think and sing and write and put things into compartments when they are floating around loosely in my head. I don’t like things floating around loosely in my head. It hurts.

I pulled over on the side of the road and messaged a new sweet friend who made the comment, “It’s okay” after discussing some of her very not okay things. Sometimes it’s not okay and sometimes it’s a mess and that is okay and a mess is okay and trying to make it not a mess makes it even messier.

For now, I’m going to rest in the mess of it all.

5. Find pockets of prettiness.
They are out there and they are so close to you and you don’t even know it. Mere miles away and I finally made it to Abbot Kinney in downtown Venice. I always thought Venice was full of naked jugglers on the beach and so I wasn’t in much of a rush to visit. There’s more to it. Yup. Pockets of prettiness are all over the place if you take the time to search them out and get outside of your routine.

I finally found somewhere to park and was immersed in gorgeous shops, great food trucks just parked along the street and the kindest shop owners that didn’t treat me like I was an Orange County Jackass. I like that.

Oh, if you go, make sure you wear some shade of blah. Much easier to fit in if fitting in is what you want to do. (It’s my new favorite place. Shh.)

A couple more things for the road.

1. That girl you saw in the Oliver Peoples in a gray tshirt and striped sweater rolling down her window and talking, well, yelling, to the ocean? That wasn’t me.

2. Found a shop that treats you well and is kind to you when you walk in the door? Frequent it. I found one that had all these imports from Paris and every corner turned there were more pieces and parts and pretty things to see and touch and explore and sometimes I forget that there is that much pretty out there. There is.

3. The woman behind the ticket counter at the Santa Barbara Museum of Art asked if I needed a student admission. I think everyone should go there all the time. Forever.

4. There are a lot of crazies in Santa Barbara. I fit right in.

5. There are a couple more crazies in Venice but less so, I’d say it’s more about The Pot. Everyone’s rather, ehem, happy and relaxed and really take their time crossing the street.

6. If you drive to Solvang and remember it looks just like it did 15 years ago, make a u-turn.

7. Dosas (Indian crepes) are good. So are cupcakes off trucks. So are baked goods on State St. Before I came home, I bought a new scale. No, really I did.

I have to turn the rental car back in today. I have to turn the weekend back in today also. It's back to normal playlists and office meetings and corporate attire with "no embellishments" and certainly "no colored jewelry" and things of that sort.

I'll wait for another weekend and perhaps go on another adventure and head in another direction and even if the arrow points in one direction I might go another. It all depends where the blueberries are planted.

Much love this Messy Monday,
Cole

Just Give.

2010-05-20T16:18:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by crinkled sandwich bags.

No big lessons today. And don't think I think I always know what I'm talking about. I'm learning like everyone else just in a more wrinkled state than you.

I drove back from an event meeting today and there was this sweet looking guy right around my baby brother's age sitting on the side of the freeway with his dog. It was practically a country music video.

Stay with me.

And he had his sign and whether you agree with giving or not to someone with a sign is not something I care to discuss. I'm talking about me and what my heart is called to do. And my damn heart cannot go past someone with a sign or a need and not try or attempt to meet it. I fail miserably at times. I'm not the best meeter of needs but I want to be a better one. So, guy with his sign is sitting there and has no judgement in his eyes and nothing about him is pleading for money. Nope, he's just holding the sign. And I look around my car and have not a dollar on me.

Makes me sick.

And then I look for a new water bottle or something to give him and there's nothing.

Even sicker-er-ish.

Ah. There's that bag of change in the center console from when I was flat out broke and was living off change. You know? Some of you have been there when you're down to the baggie and a quarter is like a $50.00 bill. Those times. Well, I had the bag, rolled down my window and shamefully said, "I'm so sorry this is all I have." He smiled as if I had just handed him keys to a mansion.

I don't give so I can tell you. I give because my heart is not okay unless I do.

Later today someone commented on my earrings. As I took them off to give them away, I realized I am at my best when I am giving and not taking.

Sometimes it's coins in worn baggies. Sometimes it's earrings. Sometimes they are very big things and sometimes they are very small things. All I know is I am too old not to listen to my heart.

Give what you have. And then give some more,
Cole

The Twang Invasion

2010-05-12T23:45:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by The South.

If you walk by my apartment anytime in the next four to five days, expect to hear yelling and arguments and probably some screaming and the way you'll know you are at the right place? The Twang.

See, it takes over all of us at some point during the weekend. Some of us are from the south and some of us have daddies from the south. Not "daddies". Daddies. Dirty Bird, You.

Just prepping for this trip, I can feel the twang starting to form in my throat. So, yes, expect y'alls and things of that sort.

And so you don't feel left out, I'll let you know who'll be in town.

Miss Larkin. The ringleader. Itinerary driven. Claims to be breezy but...well, isn't. Always has to fly here because none of us are sure where Arkansas is.

Ally "Red". Lives in Canada. Is the only woman we know that will rock a bikini on a public street without covering her ass. Has two adorable boys. One she kisses sweet and one she kisses very bad.

Miss Aimee. Our newest hot momma. This was Aimee last time we were all together. Baby Gavin is now viewing Orange County from the outside with his gorgeous momma and dad. Aimee is the calm to our storm.

Stacia Rae. Stacia has over 1,000 pictures to choose from but I think this defines her. Sassy but sweet at the same time. She should have a tip jar in front of her everywhere she goes. Terribly entertaining.

D "Sissy". Our outings tend to be costly to Davina. Running out of gas and getting towed and all things Car Trauma. We are crossing all available parts for good car results this time.

Miss Blue. Guest appearances by Chris this weekend as time permits. (See five children. Further comments needed? I think not.)

And me. You have enough pictures of me. Don't think I won't take a million more this weekend, y'all.

Much love,
Cole

Lessons in Shorts: Short Films, Short Stories and Brief Bursts of Loneliness

2010-05-03T00:03:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by all things brief.

You should have seen me. I was sitting there, at The Getty, in a corner of this gorgeous patio area tucked as far back as I could tuck, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

It wasn’t the way I imagined things. Nope.

You might think I have this adventuring alone thing all figured out. I don’t. Most of the time, I enjoy it tremendously. Most of the time. Saturday, I didn’t at all.

Nope, again.

The nice thing about loneliness is it is short. It’s a feeling and it goes away. And I have an option to sit in it all moping and lost in my PB&J or break free from it by talking to someone at the next table or watching people or just breathing and enjoying the loveliest view.

I didn’t. I almost had the welling-of-the-tears in my eyes. But my loneliness was short lived. Sitting there with that sandwich The Boyfriend texted, “Miss you.” I sighed that huge heavy sigh when you feel the heart full of being wanted and missed and replied, “I needed that. Feeling a bit lonely. Not so brave today. Miss you.”

Wrapping up my sandwich and finishing my soda and watching all the pairs of people, I picked up my bag and headed into The East Pavilion.

da Vinci helps. So does Degas. So does a text telling you you're missed. That is the best form of art.

I suppose it was a bit of a theme this week. Shorts and all. Short bursts of loneliness and short films at Newport Beach Film Festival and Selected Shorts at The Getty. I'm liking the briefness of it all.

Some Short Lessons

Know Your Audience
You know that leftover sinus cough that takes seven years to go away? It should be named after me. If you’re going to cough during a film festival screening, make sure your cough sounds ultra educated and cultured. If there’s any trucker-side-of-the-roadness to it, they will kick your ass.

Partner in Grief
A Shine of Rainbows has so many beautiful, sweet lessons but my heart was tugged by grief and how it shortens when you allow others to experience it with you.

You Can Leave
Yes, you can. If you don’t like a movie, you can quietly leave. Perhaps during a film screening it’s not the best time but if you’re at the theatre and see something that doesn’t impress you, then simply walk out gracefully. Don’t waste another minute in a moment that does not feed your brain or your heart or your innards. Especially your innards.

Hellos Help
I was Friend Dumped twice this weekend. Drinks Friday night and a little outing Saturday. Looking back, it was exactly as it should be and allowed me to experience the painful quiet of not engaging with people. In the middle of Friday night tears, it hit me how many footsteps walk past a homeless man every single day without even a head nod in his direction. That pains me in deep ways. How long must his day be without the engagement of even a stranger.

Fit People In
The Getty did a program of Selected Shorts and one of the stories was, "Things We Knew When the House Caught Fire" by David Drury, read by Keith Szarabajka. Drury’s short delves into a family that completely doesn’t fit into a neighborhood and the neighborhood's attempt to get them out.

We will spend our lives trying to be in and accepted and chosen and picked and on THAT team. How much easier to fit people in ahead of time and not make them do cartwheels to be our friends or fit in our neighborhoods or be part of our group. It’s a quick decision to embrace rather than disgrace people.

My days don't always turn out the way I plan them but they turn out so much better and I'm committed at this ripe old Pre Middle Age to listen and learn and, most importantly, love.

A good night to you but just a short one. It's late.
Cole

Lessons From Mom

2010-04-22T11:14:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by the number 8.

My mother died on April 22, 2001. The first year it stung all the time. The second year it stung on certain days and most major holidays. Mother's Day was a bitch. I remember standing in the kitchen while baking a cake and thinking how absurd it was that I was celebrating this holiday when my mom was dead. After that, it was certain smells, certain sounds and certain memories. I'm grateful that the passing of time makes great grief less great.

I didn't know that the first year. I wish someone had shown me the grief playbook.

Nine years later. Today. And the morning is not full of sobs but laughter with friends. And work and life and emails and texts and plans for the weekend and all the sorts of things a Thursday should have in it because it's, well, a Thursday and that's what Thursdays do.

And even though it's a Thursday and not a THURSDAY. And even though it's the 22nd and not THE 22ND, it still feels right to share some things I learned along the way from my mom.

1. No shortcuts.
As soon as my mom died, I had a really quick sweet dream. My mom was leaning against a tree and we reached out to say goodbye to each other. She started to walk down a long path inside a gate and I went to take, yup, a shortcut. She looked back and pointed in her direction. I knew then the road would be long but worth it. I knew taking the easy way wouldn't be any longer.

2. Give when no one is looking.
My mother was a master at this. She would put a young Latino kid through the fire academy rather than invest in a new car for herself. She clothed people without fanfare. She fed them and listened to them and prayed for them and loved them. And she gave when she was sure no one was looking.

3. Find your sea.
I go to museums because my mother took me to them. And she went to the sea because her father took her there. There are many reasons we find our "place" but whatever you do, find it. Go to it. Make it your place and make it a refuge.

4. Have Yes Days
We were little, my brother and I, and my mother took us on a Yes Day. It went horrible. We went camping at the beach and locked the keys in the trunk of the car and it was not our greatest adventure, but still, it was an adventure. And, the fact that it stands out to this day, there's something very YES about that.

5. Have a carnival in your backyard.
Rio Lempa Drive in Hacienda Heights was THE place to live. My mother was a teacher and a really creative one and threw a bad ass carnival which probably speaks to me being an event director now. So, this carnival had booths and games and I wish I was older and could remember more of it. I do know that my best friend Audra Dial wore a dress and I had on jeans and wanted to go inside and change but was so glad I didn't since I ended up sliding down the dirt hill at the end of the day.

Remember, I like being with the boys.

The point is. You can do things small or you can have a carnival in your backyard. Live really big like that, you know?

6. Something physical. Something artistic. Something educational. Something cultural.
That was the rule. And I'm not sure she spelled it out as clearly as that all the time but that was the deal. We had to play an instrument and if we didn't do that then we had to participate in a performing art of some sort. And the grades had to kick ass. And then there had to be a sport. And she brought in the cultural piece on the side with trips and music and such. I am balanced in my want of these things today because of my mom.

God. She was pretty cool, huh?

7. Write. Draw. Sing. Act.
Dance, Little Girl. And sing, Darling Girl. And Direct, Sweet Boy. If these are your dreams then...do them! My mother was a writer, a very quiet one. And maybe she never wanted to do anything big with her words but still, she wrote anyway. A piece for you, well, for us but for you.

November 1984 (written in my Spanish class, recalling the morning)

Mis Ninos -

You are my celebration,

In the early hours

Of my morning

I see you sleeping -

And I hear a song.

For every day is a gift

And I will

Sound a quiet bell

Light a single candle

And thank my Lord

That you are safe

And you are here.

-Michele Esperon-Harmonson

Much love to you this April 22, this very sweet April 22,
My mom's daughter

Lessons in Baseball

2010-04-18T23:28:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by Milo the Party Bus Limo Shuttle Driver Guy.

It was a really busy week. I mentioned that didn't I? Almost flat tire earlier in the week, huge party that was supposed to be a SORT OF huge party on Wednesday and then this weekend was The Experience. See, I'm an event director and you know that but sometimes we don't just have parties on site but we take residents off site for little, yah, experiences.

It's not that terrible of a job to get to go to a Dodger Game, is it?

A couple lessons learned on the third base side:

1. If you tell people to use the restroom before they get on the party bus, they won't.

2. There's a Chevron off the 5 freeway at Washington with a nice bathroom.

Eight people can use it really fast. It helps when you say firmly, "go directly to the restroom, make no purchases, you have four minutes and no more beer until we get to the damn game!"

3. Don't let the obvious stun you.

It stuns me that a bathroom break is needed from Orange County to Downtown LA. It shouldn't. I'll regret saying this once my bladder starts to weaken, won't I?

4. Know your limit.

If you drink so many cans of beer that you get lost in the parking lot, that's too many.

5. There is right and there is wrong.

Doing The Wave has never been, isn't and will never be appropriate. Snarky Brother with a strong finger point says, "It distracts from the game." I agree.

6. There is wronger.

See number 5 for beachballs.

7. First everythings are important.

First games are important. Capture them in picture. Zed went to his first Dodger game today and was decked out in blue and his parents were Dodger Proud. They couldn't stop taking pictures and that's exactly how it should be when your baby has a first. And even if you're a grown up, all pre middle age and all, and having some firsts of your own, you don't have to stop taking pictures either. Nope, you don't.

8. Having "texters" helps open the closed doors.

This morning The Boyfriend texted to say good morning and to remind me to wear sunscreen. I didn't. I'm rebellious like that. And Snarky Brother texted to tell me to dress in cool clothing. As if anything I'd wear wouldn't be cool. Oh, you know...weather and all. And having men in my life that give a damn is so damn cool and opens the heart in such an easy way. Sigh. I like that very much. Almost enough to listen to them.

9. Wait for your pitch.

Bottom of the eighth and down 1-0. And then Manny Ramirez comes up to the plate. And two strikes and he's not freaking out. Cause you know if it was me and it was the bottom of the eighth inning and all the pressure was on me and I had two strikes I'd be sweating. No. He waits for his pitch and it's a homerun and the score is now 2-1. And we win. You don't have to play at anyone else's pace. You can keep your own and you know the pitch that is for you and the one that isn't. And don't let anyone talk you into swinging at a ball. You are too smart for that.

10. Work in your passion.

We were walking out of the stadium tonight and I was rounding everyone up and having to use a bit of a mom/julie the cruise director voice when someone said, "I could never do your job!" You aren't supposed to. You're supposed to do your job and I'm supposed to do mine and when we're both working in our passions they don't really feel like jobs, do they? I had the best time today even reminding grown ass adults, "make sure you use the restroom before getting on the shuttle (and drinking another 18 beers)!"

11. Listen

Milo The Party Shuttle Limo Bus Driver had much to say this afternoon. I happened to be the lucky listener sitting in the front next to him. Now, I'm sure he would have stayed quiet if I had asked but he wanted to talk about travel and history and art and all the things I love so it was fine. Sometimes, listen. Don't talk. Listen. He didn't really ask anything of me and I could have been anyone really but I nodded and reacted and that made him happy. All people need sometimes is your ear. Both of them is even better.

I came to pick up the tickets for today's game earlier in the week and stopped just beneath the stairs where I once walked with my Pop. I still remember the ash from his cigarette hitting my arm in a way that wasn't really serious just a memory. I looked up the stairs and although my Pop is long since gone, all those memories were and still are on those stairs. Sure, maybe they belong in some stronger form to my brothers since they went to so many more games but I have my firsts, too. And I'm making new firsts. Finding new places sometimes and finding old places again in new ways. And in many ways realizing I weave them together as best I can. I like the old and the new and don't much plan on choosing one over the other.

Much love from Chavez Ravine,

Cole

Lessons in a Village

2010-04-13T23:15:00.000-07:00

I should have known this morning when my power steering was out...again! It wasn't the power steering at all. It was my flat front tire that I drove, oh, shall we say, miles and miles and miles on all day long? That one.

And then it happened. I pulled up at Smart and Final to stock up on booze (for a party, hold the judgement) and this lady gave me the dirtiest Orange County look I'd seen since, umm, yesterday. I rolled down my window to give her one back. Okay, I didn't. I rolled down my window to ask what her problem was and she said, "Your tire has like THIS MUCH air in it!"

THIS MUCH meant not so much. Emphasis on the lower case.

I drove to Chevron and put air in it as two men watched me. Ahh, gentlemen. You must not have sisters or internal organs...that beat. And then I started madly looking for some auto garage that would still be open at 7:30 at night.

There aren't many in Orange County in case you were wondering.

I drove halfway to Walmart and then realized it was closed and then called around for the nearest Pep Boys and it was one street over which would have been so easy if I was not a complete moron with directions. Translation: I ended up back on the freeway headed south when I should have gone north and wasted more of the precious air in my flattening tire.

Grrr.

I learned something this evening. It takes a village to raise me. Well, it takes a village for me to get a flat tire unflattened, fixed, normalized, drive worthy.

Tonight's Village

Walmart Lady That Hung Up On Me

She meant well, really she did. I called to see if their service department was open and she didn't tell me just transferred me. I called back one more time and asked in my "firm voice". She apologized and said they closed 10 minutes ago.

Miss Chloe

I was supposed to be at Taco Tuesday tonight but have an assistant who does amazing play by play via text. Miss Chloe stayed at the event therefore allowing me to deal with the tire. I love text. I hear the event was "omg awesome".

Pep Boys

My heroes. They took the car. They found her in urgent need of repair. They fixed her. I'm in auto store love with this place.

Mimi's Cafe

I had to kill time while the car was being fixed and had three choices: Mimi's Cafe, Jack in the Box or stop by the liquor store which happens to be the one that guy owns that held me captive that one night. Mimi's it is. The host called me Miss. I loved him. My server called me ma'am. Seven times. I don't love him. I don't love him at all. Not even a little. And he has the worst hair anyone in the world has ever had, well except for that one guy that used to work at WFS that got the plugs and needed the desk fan cause he sweat so much. Still, I don't love him at all.

People, Twitter People

You. You followed along on my adventure. You commented. You made snarky remarks and you laughed and you told me other places nearby to eat dinner. And what that really means is that you, dear friends, cared. Whether you live close or far, you cared and that is just huge in the hugest way something can be huge.

The Boy

I didn't need to text him a big, "Help!" I was okay. I had someone tell me the tire was flat. I had someone to fix it. I had somewhere to go to eat dinner. I had people to chat with while I waited. And when I came home he texted after reading the whole adventure, "Oh, baby. Just seeing car drama. Wish I could fix. Sending kisses to my independent super girl."

And that's what I needed as soon as I got home. I needed, I wanted to be loved on.

You, you are my community. All of you. And sometimes I know you and sometimes you are strangers and sometimes I adore you and sometimes I think you are giving me dirty looks when really, really you are helping me.

It took a village to raise me tonight. Huh? This independent super girl can do much on her own but loves having you all along for the journey.

Putting my cape away for the night,

Cole

Lessons in Filters

2010-04-10T14:47:00.000-07:00

Sitting at Nordstrom Café the other day waiting for my lunch and there is a family of three waiting for their meal. It’s a mom and a grandma and a daughter and the daughter is wearing pink. Of course she is, she’s the daughter and she’s about seven and that’s what seven year old daughters and granddaughters do.

They wear pink.

I wish we could wear more pink. I’m gonna wear more pink. I’ll be the one in Irvine wearing pink this weekend.

So, Sweet Little Girl is sitting there and her grandma starts caressing her long brown locks and SLG SHOUTS out, “you could do that all day because that feels so good and I like that.”

Rare. The SLG Brain is. It says what it feels and what it doesn’t feel and what it likes and what it doesn’t like and shares and gives and shouts and wants and has pleasure and pain and just, well, experiences.

I miss The SLG Brain in all its excess and unfilteredness. I despise having to say all the proper things and the right things and the yes things and the no things and the things people want to hear instead of the things I want to tell them or the things that are deep inside my brain.

Like, “Oh, you could do that all day because that feels good and I like that.”

Or, “I need you.”

Or, “please be my friend because I think you would be a great friend and I promise not to be atrocious on Tuesdays and most Thursdays and only on Fridays.”

Sweet Little Girl Brain. Sweet most of the time. Sharp nearly all of the time. Unfiltered excessively always in the best way.

Much love,
Cole

Lessons in Compassion Over Content

2010-04-09T16:47:00.000-07:00

I suck. I admit it. I'm selfish and the world is all about me when it should be all about you, and you, and sometimes, yes, you. And today was another example of me being the me I don't want to be.

I had lunch at Lola Gaspar in Downtown Santa Ana and went back to my car to check emails and hot, dirty texts (my favorite) and was running madly through the 32 emails that came through from the moment I tasted honeycomb butter with my tortilla til opening the car door when it happened. It. You know? The moment when you realize you are a selfish bastard.

I looked over not more than ten feet away and a homeless woman was going through a trash bin looking for things that a homeless person looks for to get through their day. That. That moment. That visual should have been the first thing my eyes gravitated to when I arrived at my car.

It wasn't. That makes me Friday sad and a little pre-sad for Tuesday. With my limited Spanish which is even rockier when I feel like an ass, I asked her if she would like a jacket as I reached into the trunk of my car.

She held the jacket up and asked, "Is this for woman?" I smiled, nodded and realized even when you're homeless, especially when you're homeless you need to have choices when everything else seems so out of control.

Step away from the emails and the work and the head being buried in content over compassion every once in awhile. I'd venture to say I already had my Friday Happy Hour.

Much love this fine Friday-day,

Cole

Lessons in Art, Adventure, Earthquakes and Eggs

2010-04-04T23:49:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by today's 6.9 earthquake which I did not feel on the 405 freeway. Thank you, Already Fragile Road.

It is Easter Weekend and for some of you that means new dresses and lots of Honey Baked Ham and definitely family and probably family fights if not family tension. Well, for me, it's Adventure Weekend. Time to say yes to things and not no to things and see what the weekend holds. And hopefully, by the end of Sunday, I'll learn a few things that will make me less annoying and a bit cooler.

1. An hour at a museum is a massage.
Well, it might not be a museum that "massages" you and I'm sort of hoping it's not some lady in Garden Grove that takes her robe off before she starts the clock. What I mean is an hour of creative time is like a massage and will do wonders for your brain and your body. It might not have a happy ending, well not the kind you're thinking of. Dirty Bird, You.

2. Driving to and from places is part of The Adventure.

Remember when mom and dad, umm, when they weren't fighting about taxes or who dad talked to at THAT party or something like that, umm...okay, let's start over. Remember when mom and dad would tell you to look out the window when you were driving to and fro on vacation and you would see that tall thing that people called ....a tree? That is part of the adventure. And even if you're only going from one city or county to the next, you can still look at all the signs and watch the people and slow down at the lights and maybe even pull over and take a couple pictures or write some notes about some interesting colors you see. See? I did that today and ran straight into The LA Public Library. My mom and dad fell in love (and war) in a few places throughout southern california. The LA Public Library was one and Balboa Beach was another. And me, just driving slow enough and paying attention enough to cross the street and run into it and stop and notice a couple taking pictures in that very "in love and girl rolling her eyes at her lover" state, well, it was exactly the way the library should be.

3. Don't roll your damn eyes at your lover.
Just. Don't. You love them. Get it? I saw Library Girl standing in front and she looked so hip and her guy was taking her photo and you could tell he was enjoying taking it and she kept eye rolling. One day, she's going to regret the eye rolls and long for the time when a man that loved her wanted to take her photo. I know it's a holiday and all, but...Dumb Ass. That's all.

4. Check your foundation every once in awhile. Just in case.
So, yah, we had a big earthquake today and if you're not from California you probably cried and that's okay. We won't judge you. If you're from Callifornia then you froze for a brief moment, assessed the quake and kept Facebooking. You're cool like that. I was in downtown la when it happened and noticed a grip of LAFD trucks all over the place and realized they were quickly doing structural checks on some of the buildings. Sure, maybe everything was okay but still, just check. And you? Maybe everything in your relationships, your friendships, your work is okay, but check your foundation in each every once in awhile. Just to be sure. Just in case. You're cool like that.

5. You cannot help what draws you.
Walk into a room. Just walk. And you'll see it. It's the one piece that stands out more than the others. And sure, you could follow in order and go number by number or be one of those sick "tour" people that like structure and do everything by the books and how others tell you to. You're not everyone else. You walk into a room and you see what attracts you and you go to it instantly and there is not a thing you can do but enjoy it.

6. Not every piece is for you.
Take Lichtenstein for example. He gives me seizures if I look at his work for more than 34 seconds. I love the ideas but it's not for me. And I'm over the idea that I have to look at every single piece and act as if it interests me beyond measure and appear ABSORBED in it. I'm not absorbed in each piece of art just like I'm not absorbed in each story I read or design I see or song I hear. Oh, but the ones that get me, now that's a whole different type of seizure. My brain short circuits in the best way.

7. The literal insults me in art and feeds me in relationships.
I'm a little complicated. I know. It's been a couple weeks of figuring this out with art but I have trouble with photos that are too clear in their stories or paintings that leave too little to my imagination. I want a chance to intrepret something for me and my story and for a painting to speak to my heart. I'm a little selfish that way.

Don't you dare try that with a relationship. I need "just the facts." If you like my ass, tell me. If you don't, tell me that, too. (as if......) If I'm acting like a spoiled brat, tell me. Be clear. No ambiguity. Nothing Rothko about relationships.

A couple extra weekend lessons for your first full week of April. Pay attention, Darlings.
1. It is not possible to ever get enough eggs for an egg hunt. It just isn't. Embrace that.
2. Little Benjamin gave Jordan all his eggs. Jordan gave them all to Ramteen. Love is fickle. Age doesn't matter.
3. If you see a woman putting oil in her car or air in her tires and you have a penis, help her to avoid hell.
4. When your girlfriend tells you, with tone, over Moroccan salad that you need to support your boyfriend. "Support your boyfriend". And chill. They know things, Salad Eating Know It All Girlfriends.
5. Talk to people in line. I wouldn't say annoy them but if they engage you, then engage them. You might meet some very interesting, giving people and organizations. Orangewood Children's Foundation
6. There are neat little nooks if you go around the back of tourist spots. Find them. Walt Disney Concert Hall
7. Notice who checks on you when there is an earthquake. Fortunately for me, it was the same person who first wished me a Happy Easter today. I'm very, very happy about that, and that.

Adventures. I want them. I walked into the room with the Rothko's and, go ahead and laugh, it brought tears to my eyes. It wasn't the paint or the lines or the space but the sheer opportunity to think and to dream which you know I love to do. And to walk around that corner and have such a surprise like that was the best adventure and gift of the day.

I want them. More of them. More corners to walk around and more adventures to say yes to and not no to. I want to feel things when I turn the corner and take deep breaths and shed tears and live and gasp from experiencing.

May your week be adventure filled,
Cole

Lessons in Senses

2010-03-22T02:44:00.000-07:00

Brought to you by my very tired but perfectly pedicured feet and toes. I included the toes being that they are attached to my feet.

If you didn't know already by the endless amount of pictures I posted and the endless amount of emotion I expressed, I had a rather big event this past Saturday. It's over. My shoulders are returning to their normal relaxed position. My sleep was not interrupted at five in the morning with thoughts and fears of platforms that needed adjusting and lighting cues and DJs and such. Once the event ends there is about a week breather and then, well, it's on to the next one.

There's always a next one and for that, I'm terribly grateful.

The event was new for me. Sure, it had a big center bar. My guests require that from me at gunpoint. And it had sexy music. This time though, we turned the lawn into a bit of a museum and a bit of performance art and all around the sensory experience was unlimited if you wanted it to be.

So was mine. Those senses tend to get the best of me.

Lessons in Taste: It takes time to taste food.
The food was amazing and the chef cooking on site went out of his way to make sure I tried the first of everything. And at the end of the night one of the catering staff set aside a plate for me. My absolute favorite thing to do once an event ends is to wait for the last person to leave, walk past the wait staff having their cigarettes, take something small to eat and a diet coke and go sit in the middle of the event space and just breathe it all in.

The food tastes so much better when you have time to taste it. Even today, exhausted and barely able to get up to oversee the tent teardown this morning, I came back home to rest and went out for a very late dinner. Asked for a table in the back and ordered pork chops and mashed potatoes and steamed spinach and took time to not answer calls, to not answer email, to not tweet but to enjoy a very good meal.

It takes time to taste food. And doing so in the middle of a gorgeous lit tent sitting on my white museum bench was simply lovely. And sitting in the back of a restaurant looking back quietly on a great event is even lovelier.

Lessons in Smell: Stay in your moments.
I was going to wear my perfume but I wore his cologne. Which might end up being mine if I decide to buy it but for now I have this small sample I got so I could smell him when I'm not with him. Groan, such a girl, I know. And all evening I kept forgetting to reach down to my wrist to breathe him in. I wanted to have all the important people a part of me that evening. I wore my grandfather's WWII necklace with my mother's name imprinted, my father's worn belt and that damn cologne.

There are moments to be in rather than waiting for moments. I should have stopped to smell his cologne. I would have liked to have remembered that, that night.

Lessons in Hearing: Be honest about what you like to hear.

We were almost finished with set up and ready to start the event when someone went up to one of the artists and said, "You are so talented! Do you ever get tired of people telling you that?" She turned around, smiled and said, "No. I was deprived of admiration as a child so I'll take all I can get." And then she picked up her brush and kept painting.

How honest to say 'I like when you compliment me' or 'I like admiration'. We are so fearful of being honest about our needs for fear of judgement and to witness someone do so with such abandon was attractive. No wonder she looks 20 years younger than she is. Hmmmm...

Lessons in Sight: See what you see not what they see.

When MOCA opened years ago, I was very young and my mother stood me in front of Blue and asked me, "What do you see?" I wanted to move on to the light installation because it had multiple colors and neon lighting and there were all these walls you could run through. She asked again, "What to you see?" At the time, I don't think I saw much more than the ocean or the sky but now, oh, now, there are so many stories I see in that same Blue. I could stand there for hours and tell you layers and layers of what I see and I'm so glad she taught me to see what I see and not to see what she told me to see.

While we were setting up for yesterday's event, three little girls walked by and wanted to watch the florists designing our art inspired masterpiece. I asked them, "What do you see?" And, then, right then it was as if I was my mom standing in MOCA next to these little girls and waiting to see what their new, young, creative, emotional, excited feminine brains would experience and any answer would be right.

Lessons in Touch: People want to belong and to be loved.
I walked the event over and over last night and saw lots of little groups, not really cliques. This community is very community-ish and embraces new neighbors rather well. Still, there are the few that have that hard time moving away from clinging to the cocktail table, getting outside their comfort zone and finding new friends.

And isn't that what we all want? Friends. A place to belong. Someone to give a damn when we have a cold. And then hopefully someone to give even more of a damn when things are really bad, like swine flu or a breakup or a breakout?

It's frequently the case that everyone goes on to the next party and I go home alone. It's the nature of my role. I'm coming to accept that. I don't accept it for the lonely guy standing in the crowd that just needs a handshake or a pat on the back or a touch on the shoulder or someone to say, "you matter."

Well, you matter. You do.

At the end of the night, on that museum bench, eating my end of the night plate of appetizers and looking up at my end of the night beautiful lighting that was now lit just for me and staring at those flowers and taking it all in with all of my senses, well, you know. I cried like a damn baby.

Two of my security guys walked up and asked what was wrong since my head was hung low trying to hide a sensory overload of tears. I wiped my face with both hands and said, "three months of planning rolling down my face and....I'm a girl."

With abandon, I say it. Feeling free to experience my feelings I say it and enjoying the touch of the tears on my face I feel it.

Much artistic love to you this fine early Monday.
Cole

Beautiful Blogger Award.....!

2010-03-06T03:55:00.000-08:00

I'm a bit in Mumbai Love with Dazed Diva. International love, that is. Event planner love, too. We event planners stick together. You attenders? Stand in line. She gave this sweet little shout

Cole over at Pre Middle Age … she’s outrageously funny; her life lessons are great; and she’s got sass ! and she’s an event planner like me :)

The rules of this award are:

Thank the person who nominated you for this award

Copy the award and place it in your blog

Link the person who nominated you for this award

Tell us 7 interesting things about you

Nominate bloggers and link to their blogs

7 Cole Facts.

1. I think naps are air.

2. I'm as difficult as I am charming.

3. Having no power steering is giving me some kick ass triceps. You may feel for $1.00. (All proceeds go towards the "should I get power steering fixed or another purse fund")

4. My ass will stop a car. It's fabulous.

5. I'm terrified of success. Oh, and terrified of failure. And slithery snakes on animal type nature channels late at night. I'm willing to work on the first two some more. Not the last one at all.

6. These are the prints I'm "viewing" in my living room this month. One with attitude. One exposed. And one exhausted from a party. My life summed up in print.

7. He stood in front of me the other day after lunch, opened his suit jacket, and I reached in wrapping my arms around him. I don't know when I let go but it was the best moment of March.

Cole. Cole. Cole. Enough, huh? Here are some other bits of amazingness for you to check out when you have a moment or two or maybe even seven moments. Seven moments would be perfect.

Katie Markus at Behind The Brand … Such a pleasure to wind through her design blog.

Zoe Blue at Wink Wink Wink ....Want to lose yourself in all the lovely madness that is dating? You MUST meet Miss Zoe! Make sure to see her "first date flowers".

Andrea Memenas at Hip Moms Who Work ...Funny. Sarcastic as hell. Just brutal enough. And based in the land of all things Orange? My. Kind. Of. Woman.

The Urban Dater ...Ever wonder what it would be like to date a gentleman that dates well but still has some grrrr to him? Here's your man. If you can't date him, learn from him.

Ryel at Ryel J Photography ....She simply tells the prettiest, sweetest, most complete stories in her pictures and you won't want to have anyone else shoot you. Well, shoot you. You know what I mean. Shoot you.

Much love globally and locally.

Cole

Lessons Learned at The Range

2010-03-02T21:57:00.000-08:00

This blog brought to you by the National Rifle Association. Grrr.

I was still in the office even though I’m famous for saying I’m leaving in ten minutes. Translation (I have two more meetings I forgot about or didn’t accept on my calendar and there is one more person sitting at my desk spilling their life story even though I’ve clearly done the ‘I’m standing up to leave move’ three times.) That translation. It means, I’m stuck even though the one place I want to be is with you.

Yes, you. Well, with the two of you. Meaning with Kristy and Amit. They are my engineering friends and if you didn’t know EVERYONE should have engineering friends. They are logical in ways you are not, you crazy almost psychotic artist types and the balance of having an engineer in your life will keep you out of jail.

I need to be kept out of jail. I’m running low on bail money these days.

And my engineer, ya engineer, THE engineer, Will, that is. Well, he’s engaged and that means that I need new engineers in my life. So, Amit and Kristy are not substitutes. They are the real thing. Good people. Funny. Sarcastic. Dry as hell humor which is a prerequisite for an engineer and this, a rarity, they are cool.

A cool engineer. Two cool engineers. I might as well have won the lottery. Hell, this is better than winning the lottery cause nowadays if you win the lottery your best friend kills you and buries you in cement and being buried in cement really sucks.

Completely.

So, it’s raining dogs and cats like Will says and I finish my meetings and it’s Friday night and Amit wants to go to the shooting range. The range? Shooting? I’m not sure what you call it but he wants to use a gun and point it a pretend people. Paper people. People without lower limbs. Just thinking about it I’m wondering if this is such a good idea.

Lessons Learned at The Range.

1. Funny to you isn’t funny to them.
The guy behind the counter doesn’t like terrorist jokes when you are holding a gun. He also doesn’t like those jokes when you are buying bullets. Just stay away from terrorist humor all together if you are near firearms and keep telling everyone you’re from Afghanistan, Amit from India.

2. Rules are for a reason.
I’m not big on following directions. I don’t like people telling me what to do. You know that by now. Point the gun towards the target, not towards the bench. Put the safety on; don’t point it at Amit’s ass. Blah, blah, blah.

3. Aim for the heart, not just the head.
I learned this late in the evening and really, learned it late in life. With shooting, it’s two shots to the chest (heart) and one to the head. Not so much with me. I put up my target and went straight for the poor guy’s brain and made mush out of it. I’m a damn good shot. Oh, I do that all the time. And I’m so good with the heart. And know how to make that all mush, too but I see that brain and immediately start taking shots at it. I can’t help it. The brain turns me on. And the heart, well, it scares me a little bit. No, a lotta bit. I’m a better shot at the brain and it takes more time for me to aim at the heart, I mean the chest. I’m learning though. It’s that whole following the rules thing and everything.

4. We can be strong and sensual.
We were mid shooting and my Droid rang. I have a Droid. (insert pause for jealousy and angry banter with Ipod owners over who has the best apps) So, I can’t hear a thing because of my “don’t blow out your eardrum” headphones that are not terribly cute in pictures. I take a moment in the car to listen to the message and it’s Him. You know, Him. The guy I’m dating. The one that is not an engineer but still would keep me out of jail. And he says, “Just checking on my pistol packin’ princess. Hope you’re being careful.” It was his best protective voice. He has a great protective voice. Darling women, it’s okay to shoot and to be sensual. To fight and to fear. To be both a pistol, I mean to have one, and to be a princess.

5. Are you an Uzi or a revolver in love?
Are you closing your eyes and blindly shooting to see what you hit? Little too premiddleage for that, aren’t we? Hold your revolver, take a breath, plant your feet, steady your vision and aim.

A little of the head. A lot of the heart.

Much love and ammunition,
Cole

Lessons in Mail and Me

2010-01-27T22:41:00.000-08:00

Brought to you by the US Postal Service.

I'm not real happy with the USPS right now. I went to check the mail last night and there was a bunch. Remind me to check it more often than not, please? Anyway, three pieces stood out. I mean, they really stood out. No, they stood OUT.

1. A rejection letter from SO and SO Literary Agency. That's not the name of the agency, Silly. I'm protecting the innocent so you don't go all postal. Yes, another rejection. From another man. This one said, "I only do commercial fiction." Another man telling me I'm not his type. Fuck.

2. A Weight Watchers coupon. Any other day I would have just thrown it in the trash but right now I'm exercising and eating better. Okay, this weekend I didn't eat better. Well, unless you call corn dogs better. A Weight Watchers mass coupon is fine on any other day but it's not fine on the day I get a "you're not my type rejection letter from the SO and SO Literary Agency". One more corndog to go, please. With extra corndog. And maybe a donut. Where is that coupon in case I need it?

3. As if the rejection letter and the weight loss coupon weren't enough for a Tuesday, there was a "You're as old as dirt and need to come live in the old folks home and we're giving you a free lunch to come visit" gift card. You know, THAT ONE?

Too much for one day. I loathe the United States Postal Service this week. I might not like them very much next week. I hold them personally responsible for the content of my mailbox. And I expect going forward that they'll clear all angst producing mail out of said box before I arrive.

Are we clear?

Random Lessons This Week.
1. Always close the blinds before wearing your bra on top of your clothes.
I don't know that this is something I really need to explain in detail but just do it. Close the blinds. People walk by and they wonder what you and your girlfriends are doing and then there are all these questions and it's just easier to keep the blinds closed.

2. Girlfriends can produce belly laughter that cannot be duplicated. Have them in your life.
We nearly wet our pants multiple times this weekend. I almost had to pull the car over from doubling over in laughter. You know that laugh when you can't breathe? That's the kind of fun we had. Sure, there were kids at Disney that had to have parent-hand-muffs placed on their ears but we had so much fun.

3. A good man makes it easier to breathe.
It's true. I'm breathing easy right now and having the time of my life. And no, maybe it won't be like this all the time but I'm thinking it might be like this a lot of the time. He's a good man and communicates well and is all these amazing things and to write about him here would take too much space. So, for now, this is all you get, the me breathing easier.

4. Even waiting in line can be fun with the right company.
Waiting in line with a man you're attracted to is the best thing. Any chance to be near him is all you want. Waiting in line with girlfriends is the next best thing. There's quiet cackling and guffawing and all the sort of girlfriend things that one does when they are with girlfriends and the rules are out the window for the evening.

5. Never make your new husband wear Mickey Groom ears. Just don't. For many reasons, don't. Please.
We saw them. We did. She had on Minnie Mouse Bride ears and he had on Mickey Mouse Groom ears and it was the sweetest and saddest thing I had seen in the park. Stacia and Miss Larkin looked at my face and I was frozen in disgust. Sorry! Displays of inappropriate affection like that gross me out. And the Mickey Groom had braces on top of that. Come on, now! And they were kissing non stop. Kiss away newlyweds but please take off the special hats.

6. You don't always have to ask for things. Sometimes you get something even better if you don't ask.
I wanted to ask him to stop by and kiss me before he left the city one evening recently. I didn't. I said goodbye and trusted I would see him soon. And, much to my pleasure, he asked to stop by for a very proper goodnight kiss. Sometimes if you don't ask you get these wonderful, little, sweet gifts.

7. Touch can both wound and heal the heart.
I've spent years being the recipient of, and witness of, touch wounding the heart. Finally, finally I'm seeing and feeling what it's like for touch to heal. It's really something when the graze of a hand on your arm or someone reaching out to guide you through a crowd can shift, well, things.

8. Be brave, Little One and take that weight off your chest.
If you like him, tell him. You will not break into pieces. I promise. Not much more to say about that. Just be brave and say the things you want to say and know you'll be okay on the other side of your words. They are just words made up of little tiny individual letters.

9. Communication is key and sometimes non-communication is key.
You can learn to communicate well if you have been communicating poorly. You can communicate less if you tend to over communicate. You can communicate by touch if you can't communicate in words. And you can communicate tenderly if you communicate harshly. Nothing is permanent and today it can be different.

10. Make their importants your importants.
What is important to the person you care about? Make it important to you. Not so important that it invades your boundaries but important enough that it invades your thoughts.

Oh, and definitely don't streak across the living room on Sunday morning before Sunday School. That's just wrong in a very Old Testament way.

Much love this chilly day,
Cole

Lessons in....The Power of Play

2010-01-15T20:21:00.000-08:00

Brought to you from all the tickets stubs currently collecting in the bottom of my fabulous purses.

1. The circus is more fun at 37 1/2 than it is at 3 1/2. I bet 37 3/4 is even better.
2. The minute you think you are too cool to go to the front of the stage, go. Get outside your pre middle age comfort zone. No standing in the back for you, you hot thing.
3. When the drummer says to fuckin' dance like when you were five, fuckin' dance like when you were five, darlin'. Quit worrying about who is around you and what you are wearing and who you want to impress and the sweating. Just dance.
4. Go places you don't normally go. Do things you don't normally do.
5. Outrageous valet fees are worth it to save your feet in those 4 inch heels. You're welcome.
6. Tip well. Tip even well-er-ish when you have an old ass car. Be cool like that.
7. You are not too old to take on a creative endeavor. Want to be a painter? Pick up a brush and start painting. You can start being the you you dream of today. Today. That was, uh, today.
8. Heavy play requires long naps sometimes. Take them before your grouchy kicks in.
9. Don't play cool. Be wide eyed, darling! Enjoy new things and ask questions and see things for the first time. It's okay to be the question asker instead of the question answerer.
10. Shift. Find something new. Put the old toys away every once in awhile and make a day for new ones, new adventures, new songs, new places and new sounds.
11. Master the art of calendar management. Playing is hard without it. Working and playing is even harder without it.
12. Play is powerful. Maybe it's watching a performance or being part of one or sitting alone in a theater or communicating with your lover or designing something or writing something or reading something or having your ass kicked in yoga or simply watching grown men beat the shit out of each other on the ice.
13. Nod your head rather than shake it. Clap your hands rather than clenching your fists.

14. Pretty little girl....get outside your head, outside your body, outside self. The world is bigger than you and your pretty little head so just go ahead and have yourself an amazing time. I promise you'll have fun.
15. Oh, and kissing. Make sure there is lots of kissing. Kissing is more fun at 37 1/2 than at 3 1/2 for sure. I bet 37 3/4 is even better.

Much love and play,
Cole

Last Day of the Year Lessons

2010-01-02T18:14:00.000-08:00

Mission, Museum and Musings...

1. You do not need all the clothes you have. Give them.
2. Homeless are you and me with less shelter, oh, and more manners.
3. Choose to look beyond someone's appearance and circumstance and find their story. The Year I Was Homeless
4. It still is okay to take a whole booth and eat a whole meal by your whole self. You're a whole grown up.
5. Coleslaw is awesome.
6. It might seem silly to you in your rush to go to the next place and do the next thing but STOP! Breathe. Smell all the smells. Listen to all the sounds. Hear all the conversations. Pick out the ones that interest you the most. Look around and see all the colors.
7. It's okay to stop your car on the side of the road if you have a thought and want to write it down. It's not okay to do it in the right turn lane. People don't really like that.
8. Making out in underground museum parking lots is hell o' sexy. I wish it was me in that car. I wish it was me in that car with you. Yes, you.
9. If you need to, go ahead....impress people with your knowledge of art. You don't need to impress me. I'd like to know what piece makes you smile and what piece makes you frown and what piece makes you mad. I'd like to know what piece you think is a waste of your "hard earned money" and what piece makes you want to fall in love.

10. Some paintings seem so overwhelming and emotional when you are young. And then you grow up, well, not so much. It's the same with difficult people.
11. A homeless woman wearing a glittery New Year's Eve hat? That's some fkn' perspective.
12. There was this piece in the Eli Broad building at LACMA. You sit on a bench, one of many, and look at what appears to be a, ummm, black wall. It's not. It's for you to do what you will with...think, create, cry, dream, grieve, whatever. Rest even! Not everything has to be covered with something. Not every moment between two people has to be full of conversation...there can be lulls and there can be space and that's really beautiful in relationships, I mean...uh, art.
13. Hip Museum Girl said she saw me walk in earlier and loved my shoes. Sometimes it can feel SO lonely being alone and then you realize someone is watching you. Or someone has noticed you. You're not so alone, little bird. Go out and have those little adventures all by your lonesome. You'll be just fine.

Much love,
Cole

Lessons in Love: Fa La La!

2009-12-23T22:17:00.000-08:00

Lessons in love from me...to you. You're very, very welcome for my transparent heart and gushy mind.

1. French love songs help ease the pain of a new "in like" fading to "'eh".
2. Whipped cream helps, too. Use it to coat everything, particularly your raw beating heart on the table. Or, uhh...the hot chocolate. Both burn your insides.
3. After talking to my niece yesterday I realized, love at 17 is no different than love at 37. It's just more wrinkled and requires a calendar.
4. All you can do is take a man at his word until you can't. That bit o' wisdom is from a southern friend. They know a couple things down there, ya'll.
5. You are tall, booby and leggy enough for someone.
6. LA Sucks. Except for Phillipes and MOCA and, well, that's about it. Ask me in a couple months. This week, it completely sucks egg.
7. If he invites someone else to the concert and only invites you to lunch, run, darling. It's ending before it even starts. You should be the lunch girl and the concert girl and the kissing girl and the dirty text girl. It's a package deal.
8. Men will try to put you in their pocket and pull you out when it's convenient. Don't fit in the pocket. Don't be a pocket girl. Take a whole fucking seat and refuse to be tucked away.
9. Men do dumb things. They are still good men.
10. You do dumb things. You still are a good women.
11. I do dumb things. I'm still amazing.
12. It's worth falling in a bit of love to experience that, "I can't concentrate"' feeling. To be Pre Middle Age and still have that is worth it. Even when it ends.
13. Continue with the French love songs if you still feel like shit. It'll end soon.
14. Within a moment, you'll take a breath, look up and another bit of love will be there. And one day, because you believe in messy, beachy love, the real thing will come along.
15. Even when you're tempted to close up and wall up after a "love hurt". Don't! Man up! Open that gushy heart. Be brave and say yes to love again.

Terrrible love blows this week. And a cold on top of it. I should jump off the ledge. It's only two steps though so I don't think it would be quite as impactful as I'd imagine. So, I'll keep my heart open. I'll love. I'll say hello. I'll have lunch with strange men that smell of gorgeous little adventures. And I'll wait for kisses and texts and dates and like and then perhaps...love.

Much love to you this very merry Christmas. May your list be full of nothing but the want of friends, family and fellowship.

Muahh,
Cole

Guest Bloggin' The Urban Dater

2009-12-04T13:38:00.000-08:00

Conversation: Even a Caveman Can Do it.

Conversation: It’s to a date what Conan is to the Barbarian; what Murray’s Pomade is to Brian Setzer’s hair; what Bruce Lee is to taking ass and kicking names. I think you get the point… Yeah, it’s that important.

I’m not the best conversationalist in the world. I’d say I’m pretty average. However, in my dating adventures I’ve learned how to converse with people that have varied and disparate interests from my own. One thing that is common from person to person is that, regardless of their shyness, they like to talk about themselves and their interests.

In addition to people wanting to talk about themselves there’s another basic principal that I base my conversation philosophy on: Open and Closed questions. Questions and answers are the basis of most any conversation; generally used to continue or initiate a conversation. Knowing the difference between the two can help you to identify where you might be failing in conversation. Also finding balance in the conversation is key. You don’t want to dominate or be dominated in the conversation. Finding the right mix is impossible; however, finding something close is pretty easy.

Closed Questions

There are two definitions that are used to describe closed questions. One such definition is that a closed question can be answered with either a single word answer or short phrase response or can be answered with a “yes” or a “no.” Generally speaking, if you’re on a date you want to engage your date and be engaged by them. As such, closed questions should be used to open a conversation; otherwise they should be kept at a minimum unless you have other follow up questions ready to go.

Some closed questions would be: ‘How are you?’ or ‘How old are you?’ and ‘is that a spork in front of you?’

Closed questions, in summary, can be used best when opening a conversation. For example, ‘Isn’t it a nice day?’ or ‘Where do you live?’ Closed questions can also be used to test for understanding as well, to ensure that you understand your date. And, if you’re a manipulative terd, then closed questions could be used to set a mood or even suggest a certain outcome… It’s all in the delivery and how you ask these questions; and I’m not really here to tell you how to manipulate people. If I knew how I’d be earning a hefty pay check and not writing blogs.

Open Questions.

An open question seeks, as its purpose, a lengthy response; quite the opposite of a closed question. Open questions require one to think and reflect; they require one to share opinions and feelings; and, most importantly, they allow one to pass control of the conversation to one another.

Some questions that fall in this category are: ‘How do you keep focused on school?’ ‘What do you do for fun in your spare time?’ and ‘What did you do this week?’ These questions require reflection and thought and will give you a lengthier response. Such questions usually begin with: How, what, what and describe. But certainly there are a lot of ways to initiate an open question.

Open questions, as I stated, pass control and allow one to share the conversation with another person, in this case, their date. It can be scary to do that, though. However, a well-placed question leaves you in control as you can potentially steer their interest and engage them where you are most comfortable with them.

Balance, it’s not just about getting the right amount of Fiber in your diet.

As for finding a good balance in conversation between two people on a date there’s really no magic “rule,” so to speak. But mixing in a couple closed questions with an open question seems to work well for me… However, I find that if you are able to get your date to ask YOU open questions then you’re definitely on the right track. This empowers you to intrigue you date with your wit, charm and awful jokes or intrigue your date with incomplete stories.

Sunday School: Horns, Thuds and Cars

2009-11-23T00:35:00.000-08:00

Lessons Learned on Your Average Sunday

1. Master Light Horn Tapping.
So, the light turns green and I mean barely turns green and Monster Truck Guy lays on his horn for me to go. Me? In my poor, aged car. So mean. We both go, turn the corner and stop at the next light. That's when I get out. Yep. I did. I motioned for Monster Truck Guy to roll down his window and said, "Darling, I don't know what you're so angry about but it's a light, that's it. And your honk is completely inappropriate. A light tap or two will do and maybe you can throw in a wave." He grinned, apologized and we went on our way.

If your mother isn't dying and you're not rushing to get to the hospital to see her, there's no need to lay on the horn that hard. Master the art of the light tap.

2. Say Sorries.
I parked my car in one of the many shopping malls I visited this weekend. And I was running through some rather racy texts before going inside. I like a little visual stimulation to inspire my shopping. So, Accord pulls in real fast two spots over and rams (yes rams) into a shopping cart. Said shopping cart goes barreling (yes barreling) into the front of my car and hits with a rather loud thud.

I did the two horn tap to get her attention and noticed that she watched the whole incident happen. She got out of her car, grabbed a package from the trunk and quickly ran inside the store, avoiding eye contact with me. Hmmm.

My younger year instinct would have been to have an encounter with her and Set. Her. Straight.

I'm over it. I looked at her and saw myself as a young woman, making rash, fast, hurried decisions and thinking of myself more than others. And I quickly remembered causing little bumps and dents of the car and non car type. I smiled. I let it go.

And I reminded myself to say sorry when I cause dents and bumps and bruises and thuds even if others don't. I'm only responsible for my sorries.

3. Moments are More Important Than Material.
I went to dinner with Brazil last night and we had a very boring lackluster evening of conversationless sushi. Thank God the tuna was spicy because nothing else was. Brazil is handsome and sexy and otherwise fun to watch but conversationally, he is an Ambien.

He got me started thinking about cars though and perhaps looking at a new one instead of the old one I have. I was a constant new car girl for many years. It's a little humbling being no power steering or air conditioning girl. I do like being no car payment girl though.

Thinking. Thinking.

So, Brazil is talking through all the financing options because that is what he does and he's making calls and I love when men make calls for me. And he takes me home and I sleep the sleepless night of a woman that might be buying a new car for the first time in a long time...again.

And that really turns me on.

And it hits me. Well, it doesn't hit me immediately but it hits me as I'm out test driving Mercedes the week before Thanksgiving. There are people without food. Let me rephrase, there are people without food everyday of the week but it's highlighted in the heart the week of thanksgiving. So, I'm waiting for the guy to get the key to have me drive the car and I keep hearing in my heart, "You're going to spend $500 on this car and you could spend $500 on a person...every month." I had great conflict in my heart about it. I still have great conflict about it.

There are pre middle age questions to ask and to answer. Is the car more important than the people? Is the image more important than quietly helping someone in need? Will material matter more than moments? I can't honestly say I have answers to all of these but I'm glad, at this age, I'm wrestling with the questions.

Much love....Cole

Guest Bloggin' Thursdays: The Urban Dater

2009-11-19T10:37:00.000-08:00

Online Dating: What to Say in a First Message
Online dating is cool. I like it because it’s very convenient. You can check out profiles at any time you like and pick and choose what you’re looking for. It’s kind of like Eugenics… But, um, not really… Well, it kinda sorta IS to a degree. Let’s not belabor the point any further. Okay? Good. Even though online dating is convenient it, too, poses many challenges. The first being: Getting past the first message. How does one hope to elicit a response from the object of their desire? I’ve got a few tips gathered from a few different sources on this topic. You’ll be surprised what you find out…

Know your, you’re, their, they’re, there aka have a firm grasp of the English language!
This one should go without saying, but people don’t want to read “netspeak.” No one wants to read:

“Hey baby wut r u doin? Ur so sExy!”

So take time to spell check. Maybe even have a friend proof read if your grammar skills are less gooder than most. People like a sense of humor and trying to put that through with sub par grammar will surely cause you to fail. Plus, bad grammar tends to make you look dumb…

Avoid Complimenting Physical Attributes.
Sure, you’ve been there. You find a profile that you like, great pics and you are just all about this person. You want to let them know what you think. For guys, it’s probably not a good idea to tell a woman such things right off the bat. Engage their personality and their intellect. For the ladies, they can get away with complimenting a guy more than men could with women. Women tend to scoff at guys when they receive a message containing compliments of their attributes… Instead, be a little vaguer with your compliments, if you feel compelled to give them. Instead of telling someone they’re sexy, tell them they are fascinating, awesome or cool and point out something they wrote on their profile.

Keep the Game in the Web Site.
At some point you’ll meet someone online that you click with. Through the nature of “getting-to-know-you-convo” you and your cyber beau will outgrow communicating through the site you met on. You may call, email or IM. That’s fine and dandy but don’t go asking for a phone number, IM or anything else in your first message. It’s probably wise to hold off the first couple of messages before you initiate that next step of contact. The reason is that people enjoy the anonymity that online dating sites offer. People can be free to browse and chat as they wish, by their own means. For women I think that’s an especially important aspect of online dating because it gives them a lot of control and they can feel safe with those they choose to communicate with. When you go asking for phone numbers and IMs right off the bat not only can a person feel uncomfortable with the request, but they also don’t know you well enough. So why are they going to bother? In fact, you may find that you get no response in return. Be patient and hang in there. You’ll get that number, it takes time.

Be Creative with Your Opening Greeting.
Try bucking the standard greetings like, “Hello” or “Hey there.” Try something different and non-offensive. Though, that seems like a given, doesn’t it? You’d be surprised how many people espouse their love of thievery and baby tossing in their first message.

To that end try starting with something slightly silly like “Howdy,” or “How’s it going?” or even the simple “Yo.” Now, these aren’t guaranteed responses, but throwing something out there and being different does help. Be creative and see what responses you get.

Talk About Specifics.
This one should go without saying, alas, it does not. A lot of times people will message someone without looking at their profile. It shows a lack of consideration on the side of the message sender.

To that point, it’s far better to talk about specific details on a person’s profile such as music, activities, travel or whatever it is that the person you are messaging is into. Bands, books and travel tend to be great conversation pieces and have a chance at getting better responses than bringing up someone’s looks. Asking questions about things a person says in their profile is great, too! It shows you really took time to comb over a person’s profile.

Be Modest… But Still Be Confident.
It could be that appearing modest and, to a lesser degree, somewhat unsure makes the writer seem more vulnerable and less threatening. It’s easier to be approached by this sort of person as they don’t conjure up images of the dude rubbing up on a random girl at a club… Saying something like, “I’m sure you hear this a lot but…” or “I’m not sure” or even “I wasn’t going to message you but…” Those all may seem like weak things to say in a message, but being modest can still make someone come off as genuinely nice and amiable.

Keep it Brief.
There’s something to be said for brevity. No one wants to read your life story or philosophies right off the bat. Keep it short and sweet and to the point. If you’re looking for a word count, try to keep it between three and four hundred words. That is a couple paragraphs of witty soul-mate catching copy. Anything more can have the effect of making you seem obsessed or that you have an odd growth on your face. Eeeewwwww. Gross!

Until next time, have fun out there.

Visit The Urban Dater for your latest dating tips and relationship advice.

Sunday School and Pissing

2009-11-15T16:48:00.000-08:00

Lessons Learned on a Mini LA Adventure
Courtesy of The Brazilian who made me so mad with his call today that I got in the car and headed....West!

1. Stop, breathe and watch.
Today, I saw four little kids that were amazing. They went into the restroom to wash up before lunch and had such a sense of the adults around them. They said "pleases" and "thank yous" and helped each other reach the water and the soap and held the door for me when they didn't need to do that.

Some kids are so in their head that they wouldn't dare think of another person. Some adults are. Sometimes I am. I was terribly, terribly impressed. Rather than rushing and wanting them to hurry through eights hand...I took a step back and just...watched. It was lovely and sweet and a nice little on-my-way-to-LA moment.

2. Don't shame people.
Before I left Orange County, I stopped to put gas in the car and walked inside Chevron to get Evian. (commence with eye rolling now.) Screw you...I like the bottle. Anyway, no one was behind the counter so I waited and then HE came out. The customer service guy that was working on cleaning the bathroom. With the cleaning-the-bathroom-gloves on. Sure, those are the gloves he should be wearing and I'm so thankful he's doing his job and keeping the restroom nice and clean for customers. Did he have to grab my pretty pink and white Evian water bottle with the bathroom cleaning gloved hand and ring it up? I could have gone all gangsta on him. I could have made him feel embarrassed for this BREACH in SERVICE! What's the point? He's a hard working man earning a living and simply doing his job. And it's my job as a pre middle age woman to have an ounce of grace and simply smile, walk away nicely and tell him to have a good day.

I left the Evian Toilet Water behind with the smile.

3. A Line is Just a #$%@'n Line
I made it to Phillipe's in downtown LA for my favorite sandwich in the whole world. And unfortunately, a new Metro line opened today that drops directly into my sandwich shop. Damn. The lines are long. You have two options. You can stand in line and make friends or you can piss and moan. The people behind me decided to piss and moan.

I don't think they are having a lot of sex.

No one is out to get you. The line didn't form to ruin your day. The line didn't plan weeks in advance to make you Sunday Unhappy. It's just a line. A little itty bitty long ass line and sure, it sucks but you're going to be okay. It's a sandwich after all. If you really are in dire straights then maybe the line isn't for you. So, don't go all CSI over who is moving to what line and "so and so cut in front and did you just see that???". Let it happen. It can be kinda organic. Really. It's a line with people and the people matter more than the #$%@'n line. They do.

4. Nobody Wants to Piss Next to the Free Air/Water Machine
I was driving on the 10, my favorite freeway because I know all the bumps and grooves when all of a sudden I didn't know all of the bumps and grooves. Having the panic brain of a single woman I naturally assumed: my car is going to explode all four tires in under 20 seconds. I moved to the slow lane and exited near the Convention Center.

A gas station? A gas station? Ahh....and I find one and check on the tires and one is a little low but not devastatingly low so I pull up next to the Free Air/Water Machine of which there are none in Orange County and start to fill 'er up.

And it hits me...it smells like urine. And I roll my eyes with a big Orange County eye roll and think about how much I love where I live in a big Orange County way. And drive off.

Minutes later...it hits me. No one wants to piss next to the Free Air/Water Machine. Who wants to do that? It's out of necessity that we do those things. Sometimes it's out of survival. And I'm instantly mad at my Orange County self for forgetting in a breath it could be me that is without a home, without somewhere to sleep and without somewhere to go to the restroom in private with a bit of dignity.

I'm a pre middle age idiot sometimes. I'm glad I realize it sooner than later most times.

Lots of talk about about Chevron restrooms and urine on Evian bottles and washing hands in restrooms and pissing on streets, huh? Sometimes Sunday School is like that.

Much love....Cole

Wooing Women with Baby Powder. Ugh!

2009-11-09T19:18:00.000-08:00

I waited at Ruby's for three hours tonight for Staff to arrive. Okay, well, I worked on some writing for two hours and then waited for Staff for the last. Still, three hours sounds so much better. He wanted Pinkberry and I find it unreasonable to say no to such things. We got our amazing-life-changing-yogurt-goodness and went on our outdoor mall walk. I like walking with Staff. He tells me everything I have to say is full of crap. I pretend not to listen to him. It's a great friendship.

The Pinkberry-ness of the evening is almost done and Staff mentions, "Did you know that neuroscientists say men should wear baby powder behind their ear to attract women? That women are drawn to the scent...that whole wanting a baby and nurturing thing." Gross.

Give. Me. A. Break. The steps you men will go to are exhausting. If it takes baby powder behind the ear at a club to mind trap a women into dating you because you think she is baby crazy, you might have the wrong woman. Plus, do you really want crazy-wants-to-make-a-baby-tonight-woman in your bed? Tonight? Think, man. Think!

See, you don't need to trick us into wanting you. We WANT you. We like your scruffy beards. We like your almost wrinkled shirts. We like your suits. We like when you know all the answers and the crinkled look when you sometimes don't. We adore the smell of you not the baby powder jedi mind trick version of you. We like that you smell a little musky and sometimes smell a little like the end of a hard work day. We don't need you to smell like a baby's butt, no. Don't trick us into wanting you. That might work for an evening but if you're looking for anything longer than your 20 minutes of fame, you're going to have to win us over....with you.

And we really, really like....you.

Saturday School

2009-11-08T00:17:00.000-08:00

Lessons Learned On Just Your Average Saturday

1. Do not lose your dignity over a parking spot.
Lady A and Lady B? That prime parking spot at Nordstrom Rack in Laguna is not worth killing each other over. Also, you two look really silly having a Mercedes pissing match to see who finally gets the spot. You DO realize both of you will have to walk into the same store and shop in the same aisles in about three minutes, right? Just checkin'.
2. Every woman needs a pair of 4 inch leopard heels.
You might think you don't. You might think you're the sensible shoe wearing sort of woman but deep down in that sexy gut of yours you know you are a leopard-heel-gonna-hurt-like-hell-at-the-end-of-the-night wearing girl. They look good on you already. Oh, and remember what my mother taught me...if your shoes are whore-y then tone the rest down. Well, she said to always wear taupe but you get the idea.

3. You don't have to buy everything.
Today I wanted to. I wanted to buy everything. I saw these charcoal pearls and they were long and if I bought four strands of them and looped them twice I would have a work of art around my neck. And then I would need a charcoal gray crew neck sweater to go with it because the only gray sweaters I have at home are light gray, medium gray and almost charcoal gray. Clearly I needed a new one. So, I took my Nordstom cart to the side and stared at my items and asked myself the question that I hate asking, "Do I need this stuff or is it going to end up on the floor with the other twenty sweaters?" I left with just the shoes and a bit more money in my purse. I'm still not sure it was the right decision from a sweater perspective. It is fall, after all and the pearls against my new crew sweater would have been so cool. Shit. I wonder what time they open on Sundays?
4. Never answer when someone asks you, "How old do you think I am?"
Never. I was in Target doing my end of evening stroll and this man was walking the aisles, talking to himself which I can't really judge because right now I'm singing holiday tunes to myself. "Just hear those sleigh bells jingling..." is the song of the evening and boo on you if you don't want to listen. Anyway, this guy is about 8 feet tall and has thick matted dark hair and light blue eyes and looks like maybe, just maybe his meds might need adjusting. And he goes up to a Target Guest Service Helper Assister Guy and asks (more like follows), "No, really, I'm not walking away until you answer. Tell me how old you think I am. Cause I think I look pretty young." Target Guy makes the grand mistake of answering, "45." Never, ever answer when someone asks you, "How old do you think I am?" Especially when they are 8 feet tall.
5. Be kind to old people at the movies.

I go to indie movies more often than not. And there's a trend. You'd think the theatre would be full of Starving Students or Angry Artsy People or Down With Republicanists. Nope. My theater has a bunch of blue hairs. And they save seats by throwing their super cozy sweaters over three spots. And they yell to their friends arriving late so that the hard of hearing friends can find each other. Sometimes, once all the yelling and settling of the sweaters is done a lovely old couple will walk in. Tonight was one of those nights. It was dark already as the previews had begun and the man appeared to be struggling with walking just enough to make him feel uncomfortable but not enough where it was terribly noticeable. I noticed. I have a dad like that. I could tell it was going to be a huge effort for them to go sit in the front. Sometimes you don't realize how hard it is for a person with limited mobility to take just a few steps. And so, I grabbed my diet coke and my half eaten hot dog and my luggage sized purse, quickly got up and headed to the front. Be kind to people that need spots in movies. Be kind to people that sometimes just need an extra hand or a seat or a gesture. Oh, the ones that talk on the cell phone through the first 20 minutes of the same movie? They can take my cold hard beatdown. I got no love for them. Not on Saturday.

Muahh....
Cole

Cole's Top Halloween Quotes and Moments

2009-10-29T00:14:00.000-07:00

Courtesy of IT Guy, Mortgage Guy (umm...refinance your almost short sale guy), Paramedic Guy that makes me blush, Costume Clerk, Amazing Assistant and other general Halloween characters.....

1. "Did you decide to be cute or a whore for Halloween? Either way, wear glitter. We like glitter."
2. "There's a Minnie Mouse costume I'd like you put you in. "(said with an I-want-to-take-the-Minnie-costume-off-you-grin)
3. "Oh, be a whore. Please be whore. " Not your typical going to get Starbucks conversation, no.
4. "I need a sexy bunny tail on aisle three." She said the phrase all men feel when they walk down the canned food aisle.
5. "You can see right through this!!!" To her boyfriend as she debated buying the toga dress. I think he really isn't too concerned about coverage.
6. "You either have to be super slutty or really cute. There's no in between. And smell good. And have someone do your makeup. That's the only way to win the contest." I do smell good and I do wear makeup. It's not my fault he sees me at the end of a brutal work day.
7. "So, what's your daughter going to be for Halloween?" She continued to shop in the consignment store with me and said, "I'm a good Christian mom...she's going to be a slutty vampire."
8. fff...ty year old men? Even if you really want to...don't go to the lil bo peep costume section and gaze longingly, alone. Triple Creepy.
9. "Used gas money to buy my Halloween costume. What's new? You'll have to drive to me for the next week. Ask for The Grecian Goddess."
10. My assistant, "Yah, you probably shouldn't be a whore. You work here." More profound than she knows.

Orgasm Cover Man

2009-10-25T22:04:00.000-07:00

Ahh....your music is the loudest in the neighborhood and I've always wondered if maybe you had a hearing problem. It's possible.

We are pre middle age and all. That's not the case at all.

It's an Orgasm Cover. And it didn't work tonight.

So, he's playing Top Gun and highway to the danger zone is blaring and I'm wondering why Loud Music Guy is so damn interested in Tom Cruise. He's played this movie often lately. It's raising questions that I didn't want to raise about Loud Music Guy. And then I hear....her.

The moans. Pre Middle Age moans. No, not cougary moans. Moans of a woman around my age and she has every right to moan and I'm glad she feels comfortable and confident moaning but does she have to do it SO loud that it beats out Loud Music Guy's Bose system? Moans THAT loud. And in rhythm? That's a lot for a Sunday. For the Lord's day. She could have at least waited until 12:01 for Makeout Monday.

No, Loud Music Guy your loud music isn't working and you've lost your title of Loud Music Guy. You are heretoestforeveringness known as Orgasm Cover Man. And it's really not working.

And people are walking by. With strollers. Tell her finish and shut it.

Ahh...he just walked out to the balcony. And she's quiet. I think they're done.

Forgive me if I smirk when I see you next. I have a feeling you've got some hidden talents other than your love of all things Tom Cruise.

Sissy Says Sorry.

2009-10-24T17:42:00.000-07:00

Lessons.

There were tears this morning. Well, there have been tears since last night. I phoned Will and before he could get a word out told him, "I have two things I'm crying over."

"Number one?" He knew the rest would follow in sequence.

1. My little brother who is not little but 6 feet tall turned 30 today. And I've spent the day picturing him in his basinett when he was not 30 but days old. I'm a little stunned that this day has come.

2. And Ari. My event partner Ari. He read my book and says that Will is only going to be my best friend until he gets married and then he's going to dump my ass.

Tears. Un-Orange County, super transparent tears.

Swollen eyes from men. What else is new?

So, Sissy being the Sissy that she is agrees to meet me for lunch at Jerry's Deli and as I'm waiting for her I noticed she's running a bit late. I can't wait for her arrival because today is a day I need Sissy's blue-eyed rose colored glass thinking. Jerry's Deli is good but Sissy's cup is half full is even better. Even better than carrot cake.

And she's still late...and then.

She arrives, plops down like she does and tells all.

I love when Sissy tells all.

"I think valet is french for ass wipe." She puts her purse down and keeps her phone handy for mid lunch texting and text checking.

Sissy tried parking in the $4.00 valet parking area which was completely empty and Pissy Jerry's Deli Valet Guy was having none of it. They fought over signage of which Sissy feels strongly about. He threw Jerry's Deli attitude.

Sissy was ready to write letters. To people in management.

She moved her non-valeted car and Pissy Jerry's Deli Valet Guy gave her a smug look on her way out.

The entire lunch it bothered her. She's a grown up after all and doesn't like things left unsettled after all. And she knew like I knew like you know that the best thing to do is to go back and say without an eye roll....I'm sorry.

Yes, it sucks to have to be the one to say it but just say it. And mean it.

We walked outside and Pissy Jerry's Deli Guy was changing his shirt. His work day was done and he was about to leave and this was Sissy's last chance to offer a sincere apology. She walked up to him, gulped and sweetly said sorry. He smiled, had hardly remembered and said thank you.

And as we walked to the car, a lighter, happier Sissy said, "Maybe valet doesn't mean ass wipe in french. And humble pie tastes really sweet today."

Massage, Bravery and Meds.

2009-10-22T21:14:00.000-07:00

Life.
I’m learning to be more generous than greedy bastard. It’s worth it. It’s not about someone doing something back for you. It’s not. I have noticed though there are rewards when you take the grip off your wallet.

A couple weeks ago, I was on my way to McDonalds. Nothing new about that. As I was driving up, none of the cars would let me cross and this lady stopped, smiled and gave me the nice hand signal for me to go.

There aren’t many people giving the nice hand signal nowadays.

I smiled and noticed that she pulled into McDonald’s right behind me. Not only was she kind. She was my kind of woman. Down to earth. She must know Ruth in the drive thru, too!

And I pulled up to the window to pay and told Ruth, “Whatever she’s getting, pay for her order too.” Ruth hates when I do this because the manager has to come from the front to the drive thru to approve someone using their card for two transactions. Tough shit, Ruth. I look at pictures of your granddaughter every day. You can handle a one minute delay.

I put a note on the back of my business card that simply said thank you for being kind and drove off. I didn’t need to wait for her reaction. The point was to be nice and move on.

And a message comes in for me yesterday. It’s Dr. Nia. She’s been looking at my business card and note for days and finally called. Buying her coffee stunned her. She said no one is nice anymore.

That no one is nice anymore is not a good thing. It shouldn’t stand out that she would be impressed with someone buying her coffee. From McDonalds.

Dr. Nia insists I come to her office Saturday for an hour deep tissue massage. Look at what a little act of kindness does…just keeps going.

Love.
After the event, two of the event directors and I went bar hopping. Umm..to a bar. One bar. There wasn’t really any hopping involved. There were drinks and there was calamari and lots of catching up and a little bit of work but not much. And then, Jack came over.

Jack is ruggedly handsome. He has this sort of reddish beard and bluish eyes and he wrapped his arms around B, one of the event directors and hugged the hell out of her. They’ve known each other awhile and this is B’s territory so she should get the hugging. I get the hugging in Irvine and my restaurants.

Anyway, Jack starts chatting with the three of us and mentions that there was this one pretty blonde (what’s new about that opening line) and he wanted to talk to her but she was in “the diamond lock down formation”. Four women. Blocking Jack. Blocking Jack’s cock. Bringing a swift end to Jack’s evening.

Devastation.

And I look over and roll my chocolate brown eyes and tell him, “Be brave. Just bust through and tell her you wish you had your wingman with you because you’d really like to ask her out.”

The discussion went on for sometime and Jack continued to mull this over. I think there are the brave men and the not brave men and sometimes not brave men can become brave men. Just ask. Just ask her if she wants to go out. She might say yes, You Idiot.

The worst that could happen is you’ll be back at home finishing it off by yourself. Right? Not much change in that from last night, darlin’.

Loss.
We had an event last night in Newport Beach. Lots of people. Great food. Good drinks. Good music. Well, not my kind of music but I noticed my foot starting to tap so I guess it was doing it’s job. I was project managing and consulting so it wasn’t my event it was more my event to point fingers and boss around.

I at least got to pick out the flowers. I love picking out the flowers.

So, this woman is sitting in the back all by herself and has that look on her face like, “Don’t fucking talk to me.”

I decide to fucking talk to her.

And I ask. “What’s your story?”

She poured out her little Newport Beach heart. Broke and broken after the sub prime disaster. Lost everything. Husband is working his ass of in another state trying to keep the rest of their lives intact until the rest of their lives aren’t intact any longer. She misses him and doesn’t miss him. She’s angry and angry that he’s not angry and handling the loss well.

There’s lots of medications. Of the prescription kind. The ones that makes things a little lighter and fuzzier.

I’m not big on intruding in people’s misery. Sometimes people really want to be miserable but I’m thinking most of the time they don’t. And that big old “don’t fuck with me” face is all an act. It’s simply another tender heart wanting someone to give a damn.

Sometimes we just need to give a damn. Even in Orange County.

Givin' it away.

2009-02-03T17:21:00.000-08:00

I've always been leary of blogging. Felt I was giving the milk away for free. Trying my best not to do that. I've been told the men won't buy the cow that way.

I want you to buy the cow. Not me the cow. The book the cow.

Oh. You get it. So, it's Pre Middle Age and a friend phoned today. She asked how old I was and couldn't believe it when I told her I was going to be 37, just like her son.

Gulp....th....irty -seven. Geez. Even that is becoming hard to say. Wonder if that is why my throat was hurting last night and I starting coughing so much. That really is a terrible number.

Still, in all accounts, it's Pre Middle Age. So, let's get on with it.

My mom's friend said she still remembers me at 17 and even earlier when my dad had his own business and I was just a tot. Just a tot sounds so much better than thirty-seven and so much twice around the world better than ffff....orty.

Just a tot. I like the sound of that. Sounds like pigtails, and dirt and playing bride with The Kendricks on Rio Lempa Drive. I was the only girl so I got to be the bride often.

Another reason I'm so endlessly fascinated with men. Ahh...