She Thinks

OK.  You could take my cell phone and I’d probably live…if I had a land line…which I don’t anymore because I live like a young person.

I could give up the instant gratification of being able to call someone the minute the thought of calling them entered my mind.

I could do without driving in my car and trying to find my ringing cell phone in my purse while making a turn in a busy intersection…because I WANT to know who’s calling me at that very moment.

I could live without not having to remember to turn down the volume on my phone while at the movies, concerts or the theater…and then forgetting to turn it back up later (and think I’m getting no calls).

I could give up the joy I get from picking the perfect “ring tune” for each important person in my life – which accurately “personifies” who they are to anyone within a 20 foot radius (since I always have to keep my volume on super high in order to hear it in my purse).

And, I could live without those short coded text messages that take me about 20 minutes to decipher.  Seriously, what the hell does LOL-LMFAO mean?

You could also take my Ipod and I wouldn’t die.  I like it.  But it’s not a big part of my life. I use it when I take long walks with the dog(s) or when I’m on the treadmill at the gym (which has happened maybe 2 times in the last year).  And, I do like to use it in my handy dandy portable speaker thing in my RV so I can listen to my “tunes” as I’m whipping up a four course meal on the road.

But the truth be told, I don’t upload new songs, so I listen to the same music over and over again which now makes me a typical old woman who only listens to music I know the words to.  (Proof…I had Ally load my iPod with songs she thought I’d like listening to…about 2 years ago, and I’m still perfectly satisfied listening to the hours of Carole King, Barbra Streisand and James Taylor songs she knew I’d know.)

But the computer…that’s a tough one.  I use it a lot.

I like email.  I like the convenience of keeping in touch with people from all aspects of my life without having to make a full blown commitment to keeping in touch.

I LIKE TYPING and I LOVE being able to type and edit by pushing a “delete” button to completely obliterate anything I don’t like (beats the old days of having to use “white out” while using my huge IBM Selectric typewriter!).

I love Excel spreadsheets (not for anything in particular…just because I can organize stuff easily).   And I love that it does math for me.

But mostly…I LOVE GOOGLE!

I use it to find out everything about anything.   It’s like my own personal information warehouse.  I ask it for information on everything from travel to recipes.  How to find the @#$@ batteries in my RV?  Where is my favorite Salsa Band playing?  How do I find the latest deals on cookware?  How do I start to knit?

It is MY FAVORITE THING!

So without my computer… I’d have to relearn how to use a public library.  And get a really big Encyclopedia and Dictionary.  And the latest version of the book “How Things Work.”

I’d have to find another way to have my morning coffee since I now turn on the computer, make my coffee, and then sit in front of the screen checking emails with a steaming cup of java warming my hands.

I’d have to learn how to write in cursive all over again, and I sucked at it the first time.

I’d have to learn new ways to keep in touch with all of the people in my life that doesn’t comprise of pushing the “forward” key to share a funny joke or story.

I’d have to learn how to do math again.

And, I’d be bored, and less creative, and messier.

But I guess I could do it.

I’m not sure why this particular question (or any variation on the theme) seems to absolutely baffle most men…but it does, so I really appreciate receiving this topic from a man!

My typical question has always been, “Honey…do I look fat in this outfit?”  And I swear nothing has consistently sent my man into a complete panic quicker than those eight little words.

And I’ve really never understood why.

For years when I was married, I would ask the question and Brian (my ex) would visibly cringe and then daggers would seemingly fly from his eyeballs and he would mumble some kind of incomprehensible huff and walk away as if he considered the matter closed.  And I was left wondering if that meant I did or did not look fat in the outfit?  (Note: Never a good start to an evening out.)

These days, Matthew (my boyfriend) says that I’m simply not allowed to ask those types of questions.  He considers them to be:

“Loaded questions with absolutely no possible right answer in sight”, or

“Land mines waiting to blow up in his face”, or

“Evil, hateful attempts to send men into the fiery depths of hell.”

I think most men feel the same way.

But I disagree.

And so I’m grateful for the opportunity to give men the secret to providing the right answer…

WE DON’T REALLY WANT THE TRUTH.

We want reassurance.  We want to know that we look beautiful to you.  That no matter what we put on our bodies…you LOVE OUR ASSES in it!

The truth is that by the time I come to my man with any of these questions…I’ve pretty much made up my mind about what I’m going to wear and I’m just looking for a compliment when one isn’t forthcoming.

There.  I said it.  I’m fishing for compliments.

So for me, the correct answer to the question “Does my ass look fat in these jeans” is quite simply… ”HELL NO honey! Your ass is what makes those jeans look great!”

Oh and guys…none of that mumbling the words without looking at me bullshit.  I want you to turn around, look at me in those jeans, and say those words with absolute conviction.

Do it and I’ll be one happy puppy.

Now…there are times when I really do want my man’s opinion on an outfit.  Not a shallow compliment (see?  I’m admitting that I know that’s what I’m fishing for above), but his actual opinion on what looks good and what does not.  Take last week for example.  I tried on a dress I was going to wear for a family Bar Mitzvah in Miami over the weekend, and I really couldn’t make up my mind on the shoe/necklace/earring combination.  So I called Matthew upstairs and asked his opinion.

Wisely…he asked “Are you really asking my opinion or do you just want me to tell you how good you look?”  (Obviously the man is starting to know me).

“No honey, I’m giving you choices and I REALLY WANT YOUR OPINION.  I have this sexy black dress with a hot pink liner that peaks out as I walk or spin…so I want the whole look to be perfect!”

Cautiously he agreed to help.

So we started with the shoes…of which I was wearing two different styles on each foot.  I did the classic lift one shoe up at a time to showcase two very different black evening shoes and without hesitation he picked the one on the left (a lovely black satin shoe with crystal ankle straps).   Thank you very much Matthew.  That was perfect!

Then we moved onto the jewelry.  First, I tried on a large pink crystal necklace & a pair of delicate diamond-like earrings and he hesitated and asked if there were any other options.  He said it seemed unbalanced.  OK…we instantly stepped onto shaky ground as this was my first choice, but I was willing to work with him to get it “balanced.”  So I tried on option #2, a delicate diamond-like ball on a simple white gold-like chain with delicate (i.e. small) diamond-like earrings.   This time he thought it wasn’t enough.  In fact, he thought the delicate combination was a bit “too old” looking (quickly adding that I didn’t look old…but the jewelry made me look older – SMART man).

Clearly that wasn’t going to work, so we kept at it.  HE then suggested putting the large pink crystal necklace back on, but with a pair of larger dangling diamond-like earrings and WHALA!  It was perfect.

And I knew it was perfect because he stepped back and a huge smile came across his face and he said those magic words…”Babe, you look beautiful.”  And I knew he meant it.

But if I had pulled the whole thing off on my own, and uttered the question “Honey, does this dress make me look fat?”  I hope that he would turn and look at me, and without hesitation say “Babe, you look beautiful.”

And I think now he always will.

I love receiving a handwritten thank you note.  It warms my heart to think that someone would take the time to sit down and write a personal sentiment, in a card, and put it in the mail…to me.

Unfortunately, I don’t seem to feel any kind of yearning to do the same for others.  I have always failed miserably at writing Thank You Notes and, I believe, I have also failed at teaching my children to write them as well.

Clearly, I was a lousy parent.

Writing a Thank You Note is a classy thing to do.  It’s thoughtful and sweet.  It’s what my mother taught me was “the right thing to do.”    And, according to my mother, anyone who wasn’t raised in a barn knows that there are some basic situations when sending a handwritten Thank You Note is REQUIRED.

They are (for your reference) as follows:

1) Any gifts received from a grandparent.

(otherwise the parent will hear about it and that’s never good for the kid)

2) Any gifts received from relatives sent through the mail for birthdays or holidays.

(otherwise the parent will hear about it and that’s never good for the kid)

3) Any gifts received for Bar Mitzvahs (or other such cultural “coming of age” celebrations), Weddings and/or Showers and new baby gifts.

(otherwise the parent will hear about it and that’s never good for the kid)

Fortunately, (I thought) my kids always lived near their grandparents and were able to give them a huge hug and thank them directly for any gift they received.  So I didn’t “make” them write thank you notes to their grandparents (bad parent!).

And, my brother’s the only one who ever sent them gifts on holidays…so he probably thought they were raised in a barn, because I’m sure he never received a Thank You Note from either of them…EVER!

And alas, my kids never had those coming of age celebrations (at least none thus far, other than graduations from high school & college and I think, maybe, I hope, they wrote some Thank You Notes!?!) so they haven’t really been exposed to the absolute joy of writing hundreds of thank you notes to tons of people who gave them gifts (poor babies).

But gifts aren’t the only reason to write a Thank You Note (I’ve been told).

There are those really thoughtful people out there who exceed all Thank You Note expectations and write them as a lovely follow up to:

1) A job interview.

2) A lunch with a friend.

3) A dinner out with friends.

4) A nice conversation on the phone.

I hate those people.  They give the rest of us a bad name.  They make us look lazy.  They make us look like we were raised in a barn.

So for the record…in case you haven’t figured it out yet…I HATE writing Thank You Notes!

I hate trying to find a card cute enough to write on.  So I buy those stupid little pre-printed thank you cards in packages of 10 at the supermarket with blank innards that are anything but cute.

I hate trying to find the matching envelope that has been buried somewhere in the back of my desk drawer because invariably the cards have gotten separated from the envelopes in the package.

I hate my handwriting (or more accurately, my printing), so I’m actually embarrassed to have someone see how immature and ugly my penmanship is.  I know that anyone who sees it must think to themselves, “How has that woman gotten through life with that horrible handwriting!?!”

In fact, I hate the idea of writing Thank You Notes so much that I’ve totally talked myself into believing that a well crafted, hugely sentimental and well thought-out email more than qualifies as a perfectly valid form of saying “thank you” in lieu of the more formal handwritten Thank You Note.

Case in point (I swear!), as I was in the middle of writing this blog post, the doorbell rang and the postman dropped off a totally unexpected package from my boyfriends’ sister.  She sent me a present for no reason at all (literally…that’s what it said on the card).  OMG…how thoughtful was that!?!  Totally Thank You Note worthy.

And yet, I instantly thought to write an email to her expressing my joy at receiving and opening that unexpected package.  Not for an instant did I think to sit down and write her a note….not even when I’ve got “Thank You Notes” solidly on the brain!

Lazy?  Raised in a Barn?  How about…just damn efficient!