Cooler than You: Stupid Things I Say and Do

So, my brave, weathered, and urban soul has ventured into dating again.  Yes.  Yes.   I know.   Many, perhaps all, of of you are shocked . . . pulling your mouth off the floor.  Well, to make it even better let me tell you a little story about dating in the new millennium (to so brashly steal half a line from Rent ).  Oh yes, the rules are not the same . . . nor or they sane.   1. Ladies, I say this with a deep, ingrained passion.  Use a dating email.  When you meet a handsome chap. . . give them the damned dating email.  Coyly say, oh it goes to my phone and it won't show up in my message logs (and white lie if you need to on the next part) as my work pays for my phone.  Yes.  Do not give out the real email or the cell phone.  Why? With an email and/or cell phone you can find out a life history.  You think I jest? 100 bucks says I can find your address . . . why yes, that's called puttin' PhD skills to goo...

After a week where some jackal decided to call me a five, without my asking, I give you this.  Not long ago I set out to conquer the pole.   Okay, well not really conquer but to shimmy and shake my ass in the name of exercise and self-preservation.   I mean, as a child we had to put the dishes away and sweep the floor as chores but little did we know that somewhere over the proverbial bridge of adulthood chores would become more cumbersome than that.   Now . . . now we shimmy and shake our bodies on spin bikes, running routes, various forms of yoga, and for the really adventurous as moments of cardio while shopping.   Working out is the new chore of life, as it keeps the body in motion, joints working, and as I’m told by a MD I pay good money to see that it will lengthen my life.   I side eye him wondering how he really knows this.   Yet, I drag myself to gyms, spin classes, on road courses, and other modes of physical hell more fre...

In what feels like the passing of a few years of yesterdays sunsets and roadways of Left Coast Greyhound rides and trains through the mountains have turned into the fading colors and brightly hued sunsets of an East Coast fall with sunflowers between sun's rays and around the corner of protruding Halloween decorations.  If we pause to blink we will surely miss it as Christmas will erupt upon our collective souls before Thanksgiving has come or even settled in our bulging stomachs.   After six weeks of living from a suitcase, a carry on, and one large backpack the need and desire to roll around in piles of clothes has fallen to the wayside.  More like, the accruements of a capsule wardrobe are still enveloping me and the resting of ideals of using less, writing more, and finding a greater balance and return on take home pay threaten to become dethroned with the pressings of life and need to pay rent.  There's probably a deeper analogy embedded in those bags;...