Much needed vacation came last Thursday on a flight to New Orleans. One of my best friends, a soul sister really, came to pick me up with her kids. We jetted into the city, sampled some Cajun cooking, and walked through and around the French Quarter. We then headed back to her home in Mobile.
I found the time to relax walking in my friends' lives. Even the errands we did and cleaning up baby puke took me so far out of myself that I could enjoy life from a fresher perspective. We went dancing, gambling, took in a yoga class, spoiled kids, and sat on a brand new couch reading. I found myself remembering what I liked about the South. Enjoyed the Spring of it all.
There is a paradox that takes place on vacation. I am not in my life anymore, but am more completely myself than the faces I put on day to day. My break brings more realness and grounding that breathes life back into who I am. The love that I find from those dearest to me, I find coming from me to them.
I am relaxed again.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Dancing in San Diego
I am on a plane, again, with only three hours of sleep. My brain is functioning but I am not sure how. Kisses maybe. Ego possibly. Probably both.
I was in California for the umpteenth time for business. I flew in for a 3 hour meeting. Stupid I know. This time, however, a friend of mine was also in San Diego on business. I took a half day off work and went to go meet her.
The afternoon started peacefully enough. We sat in the hot tub over looking the Pacific talking about boys. She had received some mixed male attention the night before. We did the girl thing and analyzed the hell out of his behavior. As the sun started to sink into the horizon, we went inside to get ready for dinner and dancing. We were both feeling in the need of some decidedly male attention and dressed for it.
After dinner we went to a bar which had a live band. The band was playing a bluesy rock. I got male attention there, but not the kind I was seeking. An older man, old enough to be my father, had his friends ask me seven ways from Sunday to dance. Now I have heard both guys and girls say that attention for the most part can't be bad. I am inclined to agree. I found it flattering, but there comes a point when unwanted attention becomes annoying. (I also had the feeling that if I went dancing with the guy my friend would be the next target of this trio and I also knew she was definitely not into them.) I was forcibly taken out on the dance floor by the third member of the trio. After I was let alone for a minute, the first of the trio asked what it took for a nice guy to get a pretty girl to dance. My reply is succinct; how many times does a girl have to say no before she is taken seriously. The question worked wonders.
My friend and I moved on to a bar that was playing 80's music. My friend and I are children of the 80's so we had found a dancing home. My friend got asked to dance right away. We both were dancing giddily to beats of our favorite songs.
Before long our world was crashed, not unhappily, by my friend's friend and his cousins. The boys were younger than us but a lot of fun. Handsome hot guys and wanting to party like only those in their twenties can. Two of the guys are most likely major players. I watched as one or the other hit on almost every girl we passed.
The guys hated the eighties music and insisted we go find another place; a club that was playing hip hop. Three clubs later and one side trip back to the eighties club, we finally found the club we were looking for. Here we danced until 1:00, club closing time.
In all, we let loose and had fun. I received some of the much gratifying male attention that I needed. One of the boys received some dedicated female attention. One spent his time looking for female interest. The other guy spent half the time guarding our purses and the other half hunting down girls.
I learned that players on the hunt are entertaining at least from the sidelines. I realized that kissing a wickedly hot guy can banish some ghosts and sometimes women just need to have a little faith in themselves to remember they've got game too.
I was in California for the umpteenth time for business. I flew in for a 3 hour meeting. Stupid I know. This time, however, a friend of mine was also in San Diego on business. I took a half day off work and went to go meet her.
The afternoon started peacefully enough. We sat in the hot tub over looking the Pacific talking about boys. She had received some mixed male attention the night before. We did the girl thing and analyzed the hell out of his behavior. As the sun started to sink into the horizon, we went inside to get ready for dinner and dancing. We were both feeling in the need of some decidedly male attention and dressed for it.
After dinner we went to a bar which had a live band. The band was playing a bluesy rock. I got male attention there, but not the kind I was seeking. An older man, old enough to be my father, had his friends ask me seven ways from Sunday to dance. Now I have heard both guys and girls say that attention for the most part can't be bad. I am inclined to agree. I found it flattering, but there comes a point when unwanted attention becomes annoying. (I also had the feeling that if I went dancing with the guy my friend would be the next target of this trio and I also knew she was definitely not into them.) I was forcibly taken out on the dance floor by the third member of the trio. After I was let alone for a minute, the first of the trio asked what it took for a nice guy to get a pretty girl to dance. My reply is succinct; how many times does a girl have to say no before she is taken seriously. The question worked wonders.
My friend and I moved on to a bar that was playing 80's music. My friend and I are children of the 80's so we had found a dancing home. My friend got asked to dance right away. We both were dancing giddily to beats of our favorite songs.
Before long our world was crashed, not unhappily, by my friend's friend and his cousins. The boys were younger than us but a lot of fun. Handsome hot guys and wanting to party like only those in their twenties can. Two of the guys are most likely major players. I watched as one or the other hit on almost every girl we passed.
The guys hated the eighties music and insisted we go find another place; a club that was playing hip hop. Three clubs later and one side trip back to the eighties club, we finally found the club we were looking for. Here we danced until 1:00, club closing time.
In all, we let loose and had fun. I received some of the much gratifying male attention that I needed. One of the boys received some dedicated female attention. One spent his time looking for female interest. The other guy spent half the time guarding our purses and the other half hunting down girls.
I learned that players on the hunt are entertaining at least from the sidelines. I realized that kissing a wickedly hot guy can banish some ghosts and sometimes women just need to have a little faith in themselves to remember they've got game too.
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