The goodness of humanity

Every now and then, I start to lose faith in the goodness of humanity. Then a story like this one (as reported by MSNBC) comes along and my faith in the human race is restored.

Cabbies strikes gold for returning lost diamonds

Wow! A cabbie finds more than a quarter of a million dollars worth of diamonds and he returns them. His honesty is rewarded. It just goes to show you that the most humble among us are sometimes the most decent, honest, good people that we might ever encounter.

Question: If you found a ton of diamonds in the back of your cab, would you return them? How long would you search before you found their rightful owner? And what does your answer say about you?

Holy Ex-Boyfriends, Batman!

In the past week, I have received "we should hang outs" from not one, but TWO ex-boyfriends. Andy, my most recent ex-boyfriend (whom I did see on Wednesday, gooooood time) and Nathan, my very first serious ex-boyfriend (whom I haven't spoken to or seen since September). These two men in particular seem to move in and out of my life at the most random and bizarre times.

Do they come back because I'm such a catch, or do they come back because I'm a last resort? Something to ponder...

The forgotten holiday

Thursday marks the annual return of America's forgotten holiday: Thanksgiving. And while most Americans will consume copious amounts of fowl, mashed potatoes and green bean casserole, it seems that more people are gearing up for the start of the holiday shopping season than they are Thanksgiving's past times of football, cranberry sauce and vast amounts of alcohol.

Thanksgiving is, technically speaking, America's oldest national holiday. It came way before Independence Day was declared in 1770whatever. But more and more, the gap between Halloween and Christmas grows increasingly more dedicated to snow globes, Santas and the Coke polar bears. What happened to turkeys, cornucopias, Pilgrims and pumpkin pie? Why did the perenially cheesy Christmas ornaments appear before the July 4th overstock was off the shelves at Sears? Why is it that Thanksgiving has become the red-headed step child of national holidays, seemingly crammed between a holiday dedicated to witches and goblins and a holiday dedicated to a jolly fat man? (And don't even get me started on the vast commercialization of Christmas...I'm sure that post will come in a few months.)

I think that Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday of all the ones that I celebrate. I love waking up and watching the Macy's Day Parade, eating the special breakfast that my family only eats on Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter (Eggs Benedict, fresh squeezed orange juice and this delicious, crumb-topped coffee cake), watching football all day, the smells that fill the house, setting the table, the few precious moments of silence while everyone savors those first bites of Thanksgiving finery before asking someone to pass the rolls. I love the anticipation that builds as the day approaches, and knowing that the holiday season has begun. I love that there is still more anticipation of holiday celebrations to come, because there isn't that let-down that I always feel after Christmas has come and gone.

Let's remember to celebrate and anticipate Thanksgiving this year, folks. Eat a little turkey, take a little nap and be thankful that the holiday season is truly upon us. And if all else fails, at least stuff yourself with pie and potatoes until you can barely move.

Mr. Laughs-at-my-jokes

I was talking with one of my friends the other day about marriage. She came up with her "Top 10" list of qualities that she wants her husband to have. Then she asked for mine. I kind of struggled with what I'd want in a husband, because although I've though about getting married, it has always been in that abstract kind of way. Like, I can appreciate what it takes to be married and what a struggle it can be, but what a reward it can be as well....and it sounds nice and all, don't get me wrong. But it is SO not what occupies my mind right now.

So I came up with the list that I'd like my ideal boyfriend to have...and since a husband is sort of like a glorified boyfriend, I think I'm probably on the right track. So here goes:

1) Tell me you love me every day. Tell me you're glad that you're married to me and occasionally tell me that it is the best decision you ever made.
2) Never go to bed angry. Fight with me until we make up, but always make up.
3) Have a "date night" where it is just us - even when we have kids.
4) On those "date nights", trade off between things I want to do and things you wants to do. Make plans...but make them as suggestions, not as requests. Be assertive in your date making! And I'll do the same.
5) Make love with me at least once a week. And let's occasionally do the dirty.
6) Leave me alone while I'm puking - but have a glass of water ready when I'm done.
7) Bring me flowers, but not just on our anniversary or my birthday. That is too stereotypical and shows no creativity or real though. Bring me flowers because. Just because.
8) Do the dishes if I cook. Or cook, and I'll do the dishes. And I promise to always sort and start the laundry, if you'll fold.
9) Laugh at my jokes, even when they are lame.
10) Be honest with me about everything. Tell me if I don't look good in those pants, just don't tell me my butt looks huge.

If I had to add anything, it would be that Mr. Laughs-at-my-jokes take me at my word. If I say that I want him to tell me his opinion, or tell me the truth, that is what I want him to do. I don't want a guy who tells me what he thinks I want to hear. I like to date people who are opinionated and aren't shy about telling me what they think or putting me in my place. Otherwise, I'll probably see right through you, roll my eyes, tell you you're full of shit and then ask what you really think.

Thanks for listening, world. If you know Mr. Laughs-at-my-jokes, you can give him my number.

Raquetball Dodgeball

My brother and his roommate made up this game: Raquet Dodgeball. Here is a link to a video he made. It's actually pretty funny.

http://media.mattdoyle.net/video/RacquetDodgeball.wmv

Yup, that's my brother.

My kind of town, Chicago is...

I'm going to Chicago, my favorite city in the world! But I'm going in January, so the lake winds and snow might take a little bit of the fun out of it. Still, I'm excited!

The reason that I'm going is because one of my clients is attending their biggest trade show of the year. Although I'm going for business, not just to visit, I'm still excited. Plus, everything is being taken care of by the client...food, accommodations, travel, etc...so the trip is free. Yay for expense accounts!

Here's the thing about that I love about Chicago: It has all of the appeal, culture, hustle and bustle of a huge city, but it has a friendly, Midwest vibe that makes it seem smaller than it really is. I love the smells of Chicago. I love taking the train in and out of the city, the crush of people as the doors slide open and everyone tries to get on, get off and get going at the same time. I love rush hour, strangely enough. I love Michigan Avenue. I love the high rise buildings. I love that you can find pretty much any cuisine that you want within a 10 block radius. I love that you can stop a stranger and ask for directions and they don't look at you like you are crazy! But I hate trying to find parking...that's a drawback.

Chicago is the only city that I have ever been able to picture myself living in, other than Dayton. And since Dayton is home, it doesn't really count as a place I want to live. If I could find a job in Chicago, I would move there in a heart beat. The dream lives on!

So, does anyone wanna go to Chicago with me January 22-25?

Funk-E

I have been in a funk all week. Even my fabulous haircut and facial haven't helped snap me out of it. Then I had date night with my oldest friend in Dayton, David, as I do every Thursday night, and the funk went away. Thank goodness for old friends.

By the way, did you know that Ralph Lauren's real name is Ralph Lifshitz? It's a good thing he changed it, because I don't think Lifshitz would go over real well with the fashion critics.

7 inches makes a big difference

So here is the after photo - with straight hair. My stylist cut off about seven inches and darkened my hair by several shades. I'm completely happy with the results!

Show me whatcha workin' wit

I'm getting my hair cut on Tuesday. Shorter. Much shorter. So I thought I'd do before and after pictures for my viewing audience. So here is my "Before" picture.

Sex and the City as Life?

I was watching a rerun of the television series "Sex and the City" the other night when it struck me how similar my life is to show, minus (of course) the Manolo Blahniks. In the next episode, it struck me how I wish my life was more like the show. It made me wonder: Do women relate to "Sex and the City" because it closely resembles our lives? Or do we relate to it because it represents the lives that we want?

We all want to lead exciting and fascinating lives. There are weeks, I'll admit, when I come home from work and curl up in my "fat pants" and watch three hours of t.v. Which shows how "Sex and the City" is completely unrealistic - even when Samantha was sick in bed, she never wore sweat pants. She wore a nightie and a silk bathrobe. But I digress.

Then there are other weeks where I feel like my life is an episode of the show. Those are the weeks when my life most closely resembles Carrie's fictional life: A busy social calendar, moments of social anxiety and unusual predicaments, all topped off with great shoes. And I do get myself in some predicaments (you may refer back to my "Hi, I'm a stranger..." post). And I do have some fabulous shoes, even if they aren't Manolos.

Then there are the characters themselves, which really is what draws us to the show in the first place. We feel close to the four women because they remind us of someone: ourselves. Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha are caricatures of real women, and that is why we identify so closely with them. They each represent different qualities that every woman has, but they are blown way out of proportion. As a wise friend once told me, every woman is neurotic and full of self-doubt (like Carrie). We're all smart and self-depracating (like Miranda). We are all confident, sexy and uninhibited (a la Samantha). And ultimately, we all desire to love and be loved...not to mention, married...(like Charlotte).

And we all have a Mr. Big. You know who I'm talking about: the guy who is unavailable, who treats us badly and is bad for us, who disappoints us and hurts us and makes us cry, but who we can't live without. We're deeply, viscerally, gut-wrenchingly drawn to Mr. Big. We love him, we hate him, we love to hate him, we hate the way he makes us feel, we love the way he makes us feel, and ultimately, we hate ourselves for loving and hating him, even though it feels SO GOOD.

Of course, the real-life Mr. Big is of the pre-flying to Paris to save Carrie variety. In real life, Mr. Big doesn't fly to Paris. He doesn't save us from another man, or from ourselves. But that doesn't stop us from entertaining fantasies of him recognizing the error of his ways and reforming his bad-boy behavior to be with us. Every woman, at some point in her life, wants Mr. Big to come crawling back.

The only difference between the "Sex and the City" Mr. Big and the real-life Mr. Big is that in real-life, we move on. And our Mr. Big don't look like Chris Noth, but that's a minor detail.