Tag Archives: breakups

Lucille Ballsy

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Lucille-Ball-i-love-lucyIt’s long folks, but it’s probably worth the read if you need to feel like a winner today.

I’m clumsy, and ridiculous, and things just happen to me. No, seriously…picture a movie scenario and I bet ya that has happened in my real life. I constantly get told my world is like a sitcom and I’m that bumbling comedic actress with poor spatial awareness and my foot in my mouth. And a beloved ginger to boot!

Picture a scenario where you have a fling with your ex’s best friend…and he tells him at the bar…with you there. You are literally standing in a line as this real-life horror movie telephone plays out…and then he puts his arms around you both and says, “Ya, that really just happened”. Imagine that in all the bars in a city of over 5 million people your common-law ex walks into your very bar with his birthday party, only weeks after breaking up, annnd he doesn’t even live in that  town. Break up on New Year’s Day only to have your car die on the way home in a snowstorm and because of that hallowed day there’s not a gas station open for miles, so your tow truck driver and his son dry your salty tears and obviously, offer you homemade chicken nuggets and fries too.

Stories like this just seem to go on and on. Ridiculous stories. Funny stories. Awful stories as long as they don’t happen to you. You eat Chinese food and you faint at the foot of your Asian co-worker, you get a flu shot and almost land in hospital (oh the irony). You tell your boss that he looks too young to have a 14 year old daughter and he answers “I am, and she’s 17…and I was 17 when I had her. She was an accident, but thank you.” You leave your purse on a subway and end up in a month-long battle with a hooker for its return. You order a cab and walk away with a proposal. Even more insulting? A friend of mine was offered two camels for her pretty little hand…and my cabbie didn’t offer me anything but arranged wedded bliss.  Aw shucks.

Not long ago, the funniest of all comedic moments happened to me. Warning, this may not work in writing the way it would on TV, but do your best to make a mental picture as we go. Trust me, like Nike says, just DO it.

I was trying to throw a load of laundry in at a friend’s place while she was at work, but we had partied like it was 1999 just the night before. She seemed cool with this arrangement, so long as nobody was there when she returned, she was tired, she was cranky, she was hungover. So, I threw in the load and headed triumphantly out the door to tackle some errands. Well, one thing led to another and like is life, everything took longer than expected. By the time I got back to her house I figured I had enough time to toss the load in the dryer and then mysteriously sneak out like I was never there. Like a ninja. Except…..it had stopped. The goddamn washer had stopped.

So, like a pregnant teenager, I furtively tried to convince myself it had finished the cycle, but as I continued to pull sopping, dirty, clothes out of the washer…I realized in horror, it had stopped about a minute after I left.

I just wasn’t in the mood to explain it wasn’t working or see her disappointed face when she got home, stupid people pleaser that I am. So, I did what any logical person would do, I continued to load the clothes into the dryer, literally dripping wet. As more and more water sloshed onto the floor, I naively convinced myself I could get them dry enough to still sneak out in time. It was going to work, it had to work.

But, the closer I got to the bottom of that basin, the more pooling water there was.  Pooling, brown, dirty water. I started frantically searching my mind trying to figure out how to get out of this mess. Soooo, I started scooping out the water with a cup, but, Martha Stewart washes her freaking dishes by hand (even with a dishwasher), so I needed to wash the damn cup to hide the evidence. But, there was not a dry dishcloth in sight, so I had to use a clean one and then refold it in the drawer as though it was never used…sneaky, sneaky. To get rid of the last little bit of water in the bottom of the basin, I was going to use paper towels, but she was out, so Plan B, toilet paper, but that was down to one roll too! Plan C – I used her hand towels. These became drippy, dirty little messes and no matter how much I tried to ring them out…they just didn’t appear dry. So, I threw em in the dryer…with the very, very, very wet, still-dirty clothes.

In the meantime, the inside of the washer was hairy and gross, so I ended up using a bit of the toilet paper to clear this new problem up. And yes, once again, I did what any rational person would do. I tried to flush the wad of dirty toilet paper down the actual toilet (can’t leave the evidence in the garbage can of course). However, as is my fate, the toilet overflowed…annnndddd she doesn’t own a plunger.

So, what now you ask? Well, I ended up having to fish it all out by hand and resort to Plan D, just toss it all in my bag to bring home. Still, there was now water at the top of the toilet bowl rim, so back to Plan A, out comes the now clean cup again to be rewashed. Saga over you think? Now I’ve poured toilet and dirty basin water into her sink…so mother fucker, the sink too you ask?  Oh yes, the sink too.

After all this is said and done, it gets even better…she texts me that she’s on her way back, EARLY.

So I go to grab my now not-even-remotely-dry clothes and all I’ve managed to do is cover the inside of her dryer with hair and animal dander. Ugh, so NOW, I’m shoving wet clothes into my bags, using more toilet paper to wipe out the inside of her dryer and trying to use her shower towel to get the water off the floor. Big sigh and heavy-hearted I hung all her wet dirty towels back in the guest bathroom and hoped by the time she went in there they would be miraculously dry.

Well, turns out they were. And a bit discoloured. And a bit oddly wrinkled. I guess she noticed a couple of weeks later. Also, those errands I went to do? Well, those errands were driving a third friend to a neighbouring town. So, as it turns out…weeks later she did go to use that bathroom…and discovered the toilet was indeed plugged. She blamed it on our friend (I knew she would) and oddly enough, she also wondered where her toilet paper went. So, when annoyed she told me that our friend had plugged her toilet and used all the paper, I burst into laughter. Damn, and I was so in the clear….ish.

Either way, as I sit here writing this, tears are streaming down my face. As they have been for the last hour or so….from laughter. The whole reason I started writing this entry in the first place was because tonight I was painting. Painting something for this very friend. And I used oil paint, which I never use. Bright, neon orange, oil paint. The more I tried to wash this off the brush, my hand and out of the sink, the thicker and more stuck it became. It just kept spreading and was becoming a gelatinous mess and in the meantime, a scab on my hand had peeled off…and I was bleeding…and eventually I didn’t know what was blood and what was paint. Soon it just looked like a murder scene…but, as I stared at my bright orange, gooey, blood-stained hand I laughed and thought…yes, a clown’s murder scene.

So, I hung my shoulders, shook my head, giggled and thought….sigh…this could only happen to ME…or….Lucille Ball.

Ricky, get dinner ready, because I’m coming home.

The Ginga Ninja

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Even shallow cuts still hurt

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tumblr_mtebtc9AEc1r475q6o1_500Why do breakups hurt so much? You were living your life before they came along and for some reason some fool and his fake version of your future is enough to throw you into a tailspin. They love you one day, not the next. How can that be?

And no amount of lamenting, crying, caring or drinking is going to change the outcome. You are only one half of the equation and you can decide to either get up and get on with your life or never let go. Now, what the head knows and the heart feels don’t always align, even when it’s a “no brainer” that you need to move forward – the process and transition can still be a difficult one. Now, I have successfully let go of my ex-bf of 4 years and the one prior to that of 2.5. I don’t particularly like seeing their photos with wives, girlfriends or houses, nor do I especially love getting messages still from an ex mom-in-law to be. But, the pain of losing them (well, letting go and then later second-guessing) and the feelings of missing them are long gone.  No, now I’m struggling to let go of my bf of 5 months.

5 months hardly seems enough to miss. They never had the chance to fully become part of your life or fully know you and what makes you tick. But, the visions of the future to come started to build and therefore, so did the actions you took in your daily life. Constant contact, sweet words and gestures, saving towards a future – these are all things you do not have without them. Will you get them again?  Perhaps. Will it be a better or worse match? Only time will tell.  But, I can tell you that the older you get, often the more accelerated the relationship. So, sadly, it can be almost as hard to let go of a short, but serious one as it is to let go of a long, but detached one.  The pain feels the same, but hopefully the timeframe doesn’t.

I know a couple that had to leave a 10 year marriage and 18 years of memories. That ended 5 years ago and they still grieve at times. It’s amazing how hard those chemicals in our brains can hang on. It’s amazing how poor our ability to just shut out the past is. Unless you have a lot of practice. And unfortunately for me, I have a long memory, and my ex-bf…well, he’s had a lot of practice. Sometimes it would be nice to get a temporary lobotomy like the movie “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” because we start fresh, we start anew. We start eager for love and untarnished by pain. Our walls are low and our egos aren’t bruised. Our hopes are high and our sense of self is still strong. I would love to start over 15 years old and do it all different. I would love to start over never needing the white picket fence or the validation of another, but sadly, this is something I cannot truly do. You can’t undo your past, but you can…

Well, you write the ending.

The Ginga Ninja

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If You’re Happy and You Know it, Lose Your Phone

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Did you know that the internet and cellphones, these wonderful, amazing, technological advances have actually added to people’s general unhappiness with what they have? We have all the information we ever wanted at our fingertips, a way to not lose somebody at the mall and a way to keep in touch with all the pen pals we ever met. Yet, often we feel empty…unfulfilled and unloved, why?

Well, the thing is…once upon a time, if you were out for dinner with your friends, you were only out for dinner with your friends. If you were unhappy with your job, your spouse knew it…if you were unhappy with your house, well, frankly, only your close friends, neighbours and family might know. Nobody cared what you ate for dinner, how many geraniums you planted, or how angry the old lady at the crosswalk made you. Nobody cared whether you threw a crappy birthday party, and lord knows, nobody wanted to sit through your boring vacation photos.

Photos were limited and carefully chosen. Ads were a novelty, correspondence a gift, houses were probably cleaner and more time was spent on passionate hobbies. When we broke up, we might have heard a rumour or two or bumped into them and their wonderful new girlfriend 5 years later, but we didn’t get the never-ending barrage of new haircuts, trips, weddings, birthday parties and flavours of the month like we do now. No, now we are all glued to our devices to one up another, see who is thinking about us, what’s going on, and to have 24/7 validation for the meaningless life we really lead.

Social media is a very dangerous tool. A tool that makes mothers feel bad about the birthday parties they didn’t throw, the cakes they didn’t bake, the vacations they can’t afford and the divorces they lived through. A tool that makes children feel less popular if they aren’t on it and pressured to do things when they are. A tool that makes single people sit through never-ending baby photos, stare into the eyes of happy couples and families and constantly be reminded of the ruins they didn’t visit or condo they can’t afford.

With so many more things than we ever had…and so much more access to friends, family and information than ever before…why have we created a society that is more discontent than ever?  Well, life is now just a big, public game of keeping up with the Joneses. Except the Joneses are now your elementary, highschool and university friends, co-workers, exes, some guy you met on vacation, some neighbour you haven’t seen in 10 years and some girl you talked to twice online. The pool of people to compare from is larger than it ever was and the access we have into people’s lives is overwhelming.

http://news.discovery.com/human/psychology/facebook-can-make-you-unhappy-130814.htm

And I’ve had this very conversation with a loved one. A successful, but incredibly frustrated loved one.  Very seldom do people post photos of their children telling them they hate them, the moment they sign the divorce papers, the visit to the ER, the funeral of their father, or the day they were handed their pink slip. She made sure to tell me that behind many of these beautiful family pictures and smiling photos are bad marriages, financial woes and a general feeling of despair. But, would you show that publicly? Of course not, because that wouldn’t get you many “likes” now would it? And that would be too real.

No, we now live in a world of trying to convince everyone how great our life is, when in reality the people sitting on their front porches reading a book without an instagram account are most likely the happiest there are. They are living in the present, in their own life and don’t give a damn what anybody else is doing. They are the ones who despite being called dinosaurs are indifferent to Bobby’s barbecued ribs, Sonja’s newest marathon, Alex’s latest trip to Japan, or Tommy’s favourite beer. They don’t give a damn that they have less quote-on-quote “friends” and they don’t give a damn if their selfie was unliked or their slippers are uncool. No, on a Saturday, all they want to do is turn up the music, clean their house and remember what it was like to be a kid…and maybe, just maybe…pick up that cellphone…and call their mom.

Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated. ~Confucius

The Ginga Ninja

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Full of Love, or Flu of Love?

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slapDating is hard.  Let me repeat, dating is hard.  So are bricks.  And sometimes dating makes you want to bang your head on bricks.  Correlated?  I think so.

I’ve never been a big fan.  I like the feeling of a crush when it seems to be going well, but dear god I hate it when it starts going badly.  That racing brain, those obsessive thoughts, the “why” of what you did, could have done different, or didn’t do to make it turn out the way it finally did.  And the funny thing is, we are all like this.  Well…if we have the ability to feel, think and crush we are.  There is a reason it is called “falling” – it hurts, and you can definitely get “crushed”.  However, if you are a detached cool mamma like a good friend of mine, well, off is off.  Most of us are not blessed with this skill though, so I will assume that when you start talking to a promising keeper, this is probably what you are going through (cue hair pulling now).

Read on:  www.today.com/id/44010532/ns/today-today_health/t/truly-madly-deeply-how-love-makes-you-sick/#.UyESyvldXt8

But, for me dating is no different than any relationship, with any new person – friend, foe or lover.  You don’t really know them, their story, who they are and why they are, or, sometimes, are not talking to you.  We get a snippet of somebody and then when they bail without a word, we are left holding the bag of empty dreams and broken conversations.  Of course we don’t know these people and we will live.  Of course they do not change the path of our life, affect our friendships or fix our health issues.  But, for that moment…for that fleeting moment…you let yourself dream.  You let yourself dream it was going well and this little future of massages, hot tubs, endless hugs and trivia nights could actually happen.  All these things they said while flirting with you, could maybe, inevitably, come true.

The worst is, we all feel just like this when it doesn’t go our way.  But, what about the ones we don’t care to answer, chock up to being drunk, or just don’t have time in our schedule for?  We don’t obsess over those, we barely feel bad.  In recent years, I have tried to make a point of being accountable for my own actions.  If I go any more than 5 days continuous contact, I feel I owe it to them to tell them I am out, no matter the stage.  They could very well be on the other end of this starting to make their fake little plans…and the rollercoaster of feelings that is a new romance could be screwing with their day.  Maybe it isn’t screwing with mine and I could care less, but knowing how bad it feels when I do care more, I think I owe it to them to say it’s just not for me.

Sadly (and uncontrollably) though, I get upset when somebody doesn’t give me the same common courtesy.  I’m meant to think they are an insensitive jerk, an immature ass, a fake future talker, or they don’t have any emotional depth.  However, I’ve done the same and I don’t think I’m a jerk.  I think the problem is, we can all ACT like jerks because we live in a self-serving world where the moment somebody fucks with your schedule or pre-existing plan…the moment they are an unnecessary obligation…we are out.

So, why don’t I let it roll off my back, decide I’m better and move on?  I eventually do.  But, only after going through a gamut of emotions over a 5 day period.  The “will I hear from him” phase, the “maybe something happened to him” phase, the “I can’t believe I didn’t hear from him” phase and finally the “it’s his loss” phase.  But, here’s the thing.  We aren’t 19 anymore.  We shouldn’t let somebody else decide our worth, but we also shouldn’t just ignore somebody that we had interest in and we shouldn’t decide their feelings don’t matter.  Maybe they aren’t for you, (well, that’s obvious that not everyone is), but why leave people hanging?  Why not just say you are out, when you are out?  It would save a whole lot of people from self-doubt and wondering if the person lost their phone, their charger, or their mind.

Read on: www.thoughtcatalog.com/carrie-wittmer/2013/08/psycho-thoughts-girls-have-when-a-guy-does-not-respond-to-a-text-message-for-days/

Funnily enough, I did have an ex who constantly had his battery die (I witnessed it), and a friend who left her cell in her hometown for three weeks.  It does happen.  And I do have the friend of a friend of a friend who was so angry she googled…and the poor bastard had actually died.  But, let’s be clear…for the most part when you hear hoof beats, think horses, not zebras.  If you don’t hear from them, you eventually get the message, but wouldn’t be easier if you ACTUALLY GOT THE MESSAGE.

I keep approaching life with the new mantra of no games and being accountable for my actions and hoping the same from others.  Three times back-to-back I haven’t gotten it, but what I did get across is a point.  A good friend of mine actually decided to tell a girl he had been stalling with that he wasn’t feeling it.  Know what?  She took is surprisingly well and stopped contacting him.  So, after all of this, we decided, maybe this wasn’t my lesson to learn at all, but his.

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The Ginga Ninja

Love is a Battlefield

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images (1)I had to look long and hard about why a ghost from my past still bothered me.  I mean, the point of breaking up is to move forward and meet better matches, right?  That, or I guess working on yourself…or boning a hockey team, but we’ll go with meeting better matches for the sake of this argument.  Well, as I pointed out last year I had the secret family recipe for a perfect breakup, only the aftermath was nothing like I planned.

Anytime I look back and feel shame, regret, anger or sadness I have to ask myself why.  Why would I still be bothered by something that ended a long time ago and ended for the right reasons?  Plain and simple, I realized it came in one word.  Justice.  I wanted justice.

I have some regrets over feelings I felt way back when and in hindsight there were things I wished I had done differently, said differently or felt differently.  But, there is absolutely no way to go back and unfeel something.  That is a lot more than turning back the clock on a fight, a swear word or an action.  Feelings are cumulative, feelings take time. As I also pointed out last year, if you felt something, you must have had a reason at the time. Looking back doesn’t do you a whole heck of a lot of good because the memory you see isn’t entirely complete.  Either you forget all the bad they did too, or you glorify the good and both can drive you stark raving mad.  You cannot undo the past.

Let me repeat.  You cannot undo the past.  I guess I liked to think I could at least handle the present.  Each and every time I received a message referencing how miserable we were, how we didn’t belong together or how we should just hop into the sack….I knew that those references of the past weren’t completely accurate because I was still being messaged…in my present.  The thing is, eventually that itself was the past too.  So, just like the relationship, why is it hard to let the aftermath of the relationship go?

A friend pointed out that for good people, coming to terms with what is and what was can be hard.  You can’t wrap your brain around how somebody else is going to act and the awful things they may say and do.  And that, at its core is what gets to me.  Like Carrie said in Sex and the City, “We keep dresses we’ll never wear again.  We throw away our ex boyfriends.  If you loved someone and you break up, where does the love go?”

When I look back at each and every thing I did in the aftermath, I understand why I did it and feel very little regret about my actions.  I tried my best to do and say the things that were warranted at the time and make me feel like less of a shit in the long run.  But, what I realized I got angry about was the actions of others, the actions I cannot control.  Uncontrollabe urges, disrespect, unanswered texts, insults, crazy rants and degrading comments…I am not angry about what I did or didn’t do, only sad at what was done to me.

So, that made me realize yet again, you can only control yourself.  If I am not angry at myself for my actions and words and I know that I cannot undo my past, why am I at times still living in it?  It was because I wanted justice.  I wanted the great apology, the heartful closure or the happy ending.  This is life buttercup, time to suck it up.  Just because you try to treat others fairly doesn’t mean everybody plays by those rules.  All is fair in love and war so they say.  Good old Pat Benatar pointed out “Love is a Battlefield”…probably because sometimes love and war really do feel the same.

I can’t be upset that life moved on without my karmic justice. The only thing I can control is my own life, my own mind, my own feelings, thoughts and actions and ultimately only half of my relationships.  It takes two to tango and if you aren’t the one stepping on toes, I guess it’s fine to keep dancing, but maybe find a new dance partner.

“The past is a ghost, the future a dream, and all we ever have is now.”  – Bill Cosbycasting-background-black-ghost-wallpaper

The Ginga Ninja

A Mind Unburdened

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A year or so ago I wasn’t as peachy keen and shiny as I am today.  I was hopeful, I was pensive, I was as positive as I could be, but I was a bit lost.  Also, not long ago a fellow blogger liked one of my posts – Coco J. Ginger, and I was delighted as she has an incredibly popular blog.  I hoped to learn something from her – some advice on how to reach people, touch people and relate to people.  The only problem is – she had already healed.

You see, Ms. Ginger started her blog because of a broken heart.  Many years and many posts later she no longer felt a need for it.  It became a possibly cumbersome task that though she loved doing, no longer needed doing.  It had been a place to put her hands, her mind, her time and her heart.

If I’m being completely honest, I do find that a saner, calmer, happier version of me has evolved.  Now, please don’t misunderstand, this wouldn’t have happened had I not gone through lonely nights, uncertain days and a health scare or two.  But, these days, things just don’t seem like that big of a deal.  I mean, I’m more broke than ever, I’m facing unemployment and I just cannot seem to get on top of cleaning or my love life.  Then again, I haven’t really wanted to get on top of my love life.  I’ve been pretty damn content on my own, for the first time in….EVER.

So, like Ms. Ginger, I guess I could say that the line has been cast, I’m not sinking anymore and I no longer need a voice.  But, I won’t.  The reason for that is somewhere along this crazy journey, I’ve fallen in love with writing.  It is an outlet, a surprising passion and a useful waste of my time.  You may wonder how it can be useful if it simply wasting time, but if you break life down to its absolute minimum, well….really everything we do is a waste of time.  But, wouldn’t you like to think you wasted that time well?

This is not to say I am not going to need to vent, or cry, or overthink every now and then.  This is not to say that a bright shiny sun with sunglasses is smiling down at me while bluebirds sit on my shoulder, but it is saying, for today, I’m okay.  And for today, I have no intentions of giving this up.  It has opened up a new world to me; one I didn’t really know existed.  It has actually helped clear my mind and even influence my career.  How many people can say that?  I am not writing out of angst, anger or boredom, but out of love.  It was a loss of love that started this journey and a newfound one that will continue it.

I wish the same for all of you.  I wish for everyone to stumble into something they love and continue to do it simply out of joy.  Not because you are forced to (hello, piano lessons anyone), because it makes you money (nothing like marketing credit cards for a living) or because there is pressure for you to present well.  Who hasn’t put on a beautiful spread or applied to a job at the urging of a partner or parent?  Guilty.  I’m sure you are too.

So, this year I find that I’m my same bumbling self.  I lock myself out of the house constantly and bruise easily.  I gab too much, think too much and pee too often…but it’s different.  It’s better.  So, good bad and ugly, I`m currently here to stay and right or wrong, I hope you can say the same.  There is no perfect version of ourselves, only a good, bad and better and each and every one of those personalities depends on the day, the year, the month even the season.  Remember that the saying, “There’s always tomorrow” was written for a reason, because what you feel today may very well not be what you feel tomorrow.  Remember that when you are at your worst – once upon a time you had a best and one can’t co-exist without the other.

I guess my girl Coco realized that she had found a love too. I don’t think it matters why something started, only why it continues.  10,000 followers strong; her hiatus was short-lived and her blog has lived on. Lucky for us.                                   http://courtingmadness.wordpress.com/

                   Words, words, mere words, no matter so long as from the heart.                                                                                    – William Shakespeare

The Ginga Ninja

When My Dad Didn’t Have My Hand….He Had My Back

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So, today is Father’s Day (at least in North America).  It’s a day to celebrate those (mainly) wonderful people we call Dad…or Pop, or Daddy, or in my case Brina….really whatever floats your boat.

But, for most little girls, their Dad is the one man who will love them forever, good and bad.  More often than not a girl knows the song she wants to dance with her father at her wedding, lloonnngg before there is a wedding to even plan.  Don’t get me wrong, not every man is meant to be a father and not every father is a good man, but if you were lucky like me…then up and down, approving or disapproving, over the years I still believe my Dad (aside from my elderly male cat) is the longest love I’ve had.

I recently sat on a plane with a very successful and divorced older man; the divorce caused him to re-evaluate his life and dedicate much of it to his daughters.  He was around my Dad’s age and I was around his daughter’s age. We had a very interesting discussion about career, life romance and love.  I felt like I was talking to my dad….and in all honesty, I think he felt like he was talking to his daughter.  He pointed out that he hoped, hoped that his eldest would eventually find a partner, but that he honestly thinks he raised her so well that men are intimidated by her.

It’s funny because that is a statement I have heard over and over throughout the years. It will take a secure man to love me.  If you were raised to be successful and you excelled at many things, your standards are high and you were told not to settle, but that in turn means you very well may…actually not settle.  However, I very recently came up with a new vantage point on this.  If you have a wonderful father – warm, communicative, successful career, handy around the house, likes to cook, cleans, does laundry…and  knows music trivia….wouldn’t you measure every man by him?  In essence, maybe the fact that I haven’t settled down yet is actually because I am measuring other men by the one man I value most.

So, as a Daddy’s girl I have to say, seriously Dad…I now believe it’s your fault I haven’t settled down.  Kidding…well, sort of.  But, actually more seriously, thank you for being my Dad.  I knew that when I had my first glass of red wine in Paris with my father, I was having it with a man who would love me forever.

Happy Father’s Day to all Dad’s out there, and happy daughters day to all those lucky enough to have a Dad like mine.

The Ginga Ninja