Real love and the real New York

(This post is continued from Vegas baby!)

Real love is like the real New York: Manhattan is messy.  I mean, not buried in dirt, but not pristine, either.  Paris is the same way.  Cairo is probably similar, but I haven't been there!

New York also has some great stuff: those vendors selling delicious hot dogs on nearly every corner with the sauerkraut on them.  They have Garrett's popcorn, Central Park, cabs, crowds, Broadway, Times' Square.  Real love is like the real New York: sometimes, the mess is part of the experience.  The fake stuff doesn't cut it.

It struck me that Vegas has done the same thing with love that they've done with New York.  In Vegas, there are the places that claim to offer a sensual atmosphere, but it's just another facade.  The ads almost look like something real.  Something we want.  But they're not. They're just fakes.  It almost looks better than the real thing--picture perfect.

Trouble is, as I see it, there's this part of the sensual stuff that can't be faked: my emotion.  The excitement is real.  Even if I recognize the sensual ad for the bogus thing it is, the incited emotion is real.  I've heard it said, "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."  But, does it?  You leave the ad, the show, the you-name-the-indulgence, but you take something with you.

Baggage.

Anger.  Bitterness.  The result of a person who has made emotional investments and ended up underwater.  And, what's worse?  It doesn't feel like it's really directed at anyone or any event.  How do you resolve that?

I think lust is like unrequited love.  There's a real excitement involved.  An emotional investment made.  The only problem is that the rate of return is guaranteed to be zero.  The emotional deficit that follows is destructive.

Lots of men struggle with lust and lots of men struggle with anger management.  Perhaps these are connected.  Perhaps the cause of the anger problems is related to unresolved baggage--underwater investments--in an emotional sense.  Perhaps, it's time for us to break up with our beloved facades.

Real love is like the real New York.  Sometimes, it's messy.  It's not always like a fantasy but, that's the best part.  Unlike a fantasy, real love can love you back.

I have a great suggestion for reading on the subject.  The book is an easy read.  Check out my post on the book Sex God by Rob Bell.   

Random acts of giving

One of my favorite annual events starts today!

It's the semi-annual sale at Bath and Body Works--yes, I said 'annual' event because the sale in December is not nearly as good!

Mrs O loves their stuff!  I like to stock up on these things in June.  I stash them and give them at random times throughout the year.  It makes giving spontaneous gifts easier, because all I have to do is go to my stash!

Practicing random gift giving has proven helpful for me in many ways.  I learned early on, to value the big days like Valentine's Day, our Anniversary, and Mrs O's birthday.  I don't want to guess how my gift will make Mrs O feel.  I want to KNOW that she will feel priceless.

Learning to give those gifts can be stressful.

Did I get the right thing?

What's she going to say?

After an anniversary, one co-worker once told me, "I've got a lot of making-up to do next year."

My solution was to give little gifts at random, unexpected times.  When Mrs O isn't expecting a gift, ANY gift exceeds her expectations.  I have learned a lot about how she works based on her responses.  I have learned that she likes tulips more than roses, she uses bubble bath more than lotion and a few minutes of quite bath-time solitude are more precious than pearls!

Knowing these things makes gift giving all the easier, no matter the occasion.

(By the way, I am not affiliated with Bath and Body Works, except as a regular customer.  No one asked me to say any of this, I just really mean it.  I make no money from Bath and Body Works, whatsoever.  As a matter of fact, quite the contrary!)

Vegas, baby!

New York-New York Hotel, Las Vegas, NV

Have you seen the movie, "The Holiday?"  Right at the beginning, you hear a monologue on love from one of the main characters, Iris.  She talks about love lost, faded love, love being found, and she proclaims to be an expert on one other kind:

Unrequited love.

You know. . .

Love offered, but not reciprocated.

Depressing.

Iris can't seem to shake her infatuation with a man who doesn't love her back.

New York-New York reminded me of this movie. . . or was it the Sphinx?  I took a shuttle down Las Vegas Boulevard one evening for dinner.  I had to take a shuttle as I was in Vegas for training and not staying on 'The Strip.'  I was gazing at the Sphinx, New York, the Eiffel Tower, and all without moving except to pivot in place.

How cool to be able to see all of these things in one spot!  Driving by the Sphinx, it was so neat and tidy.  I mean, it had a nose!  There were other replicas of ancient objects with hieroglyphs on them.  The detail was great!  Everything was sharp and clean.

Pristine.

New York was the same way.  I didn't make it all the way to Paris, but I presume I would have found it comparable.  Everything is luxurious: valets and limos, huge rooms and marble lobbies, waterfalls and palm trees--indoors--and the list goes on.

It's almost better than the real thing!

Except. . .

. . . it's not the real thing.

(to be continued. . . read more)

On Frogs and Princes

I remember hearing a man tell of an experience in a restaurant.  I think he was in New York City.  Anyway, he was unimpressed by the lackluster attention he was getting from his server.

At one point, he summoned her and referred to her as a "waitress."

"Oh, I'm actually an actress!" she replied.  "This is just for the meantime."

"Well, then. . ." he said.  "Act like a waitress!"

That would've made her a good waitress.

Then, the other day, I was listening to a man preach a sermon on marriage.  It was great and he made some great points.  While he was talking, my mind started going crazy. He was talking about how we act differently over time.  He has been married 10 years and he cited ways that he acts differently than he did when dating the lady who became his wife.

How many times have you heard something like: he's not the same man I married. . . or, she's not the woman she was when we were dating?

It's easy to fool ourselves, isn't it?

Am I the same man I was 8 years ago?

Let me ask it another way:

We just bought a "new" car.  I say "new" with quotes, because it is a 1998, and it has 130,000 miles on it.  If we've done our research right, it will last me for as long as I need it.

I'm sure it doesn't drive quite the same way it did when it was new.

When the former owner--who had owned it since 1998--brought it in to sell it, could he argue that it wasn't the same car that he had bought?

That sounds a little silly.

Of course it's the same car.  It's just older.

So it goes with us.  I'm older than I was 8 years ago.  I act differently.  I hope that most of the differences are for the better.  The cool thing is that I get to choose how I act!

Once, I asked Mrs O why some women seem to fall in love with a frog hoping he will be Prince Charming, but then become dissatisfied when they kiss the frog and he's just a frog.  What's a guy to do?

She replied, "Most of the time, it's because she fell in love with a prince.  She kissed the prince and he turned into a frog.  She just wants her prince back!"

Note to self: Act like a prince.

Freezer Bags and China Plates

My grandmother sometimes washes out her freezer bags.  Maybe your grandmother does, too.  I've heard of many grandmothers of the same generation who do things like that.  She just figures that they're still good.  Not ready to throw them out.  Still worth the effort of a little minor maintenance.

She also saves her butter wrappers.  You know, the waxed paper on the outside of a stick of butter?  She saves those after she puts the stick of butter on the butter dish.  There's still a little bit of butter on the inside of the paper.  Later, when she's making a batch of rolls, she whips out the waxed paper butter wrappers and uses up that last little bit of butter by smearing it on the warm rolls.

Genius!

Is it worth it?

Well, I don't bother.  I still think it's genius, but for one, I don't make homemade rolls as often as Grammie does.

I don't wash out my freezer bags either, but then, I prefer to use those 'reusable' plastic containers rather than the bags.  I don't wash freezer bags, and I don't wash plastic forks.  I guess Grammie might say that freezer bags are 'reusable' now, wouldn't she?

I wash flatware--the stainless steel kind.  We don't have silver.

I wash our dishes.  They're not china plates or anything, but they're too valuable to throw away.  I can't afford to keep replacing them every time we eat on them!

It occurred to me the other day that marriage is like a freezer bag.

Am I starting to lose you?

I am always trying to figure out why marriages fail.  I've heard all kinds of explanations: marriage isn't 50/50, it's 100/100!

Really?

Is that it?

I've known a few long-married couples who don't seem to be giving it their all.  Why are they still married?

I think it's deeper and simpler than all the relational philosophy.  Simpler than analyzing communication styles, gender roles, intimacy issues, etc.

I think some people view marriage like a freezer bag.  When it gets dirty, it's time to throw it away.

I think that some people view marriage like a china plate. No matter how old and dirty it gets, it's always worth cleaning up.

On This Planet: Unlikely Teachers and Hidden Gifts : Ki Moments Blog

Enjoy this post from Judy Ringer.  I love it and I hope you do, too!

On This Planet: Unlikely Teachers and Hidden Gifts : Ki Moments Blog

Blue Like Jazz

I saw a new movie recently: Blue Like Jazz.  It came from a book by the same title, written by Donald Miller.  Miller is a fantastic writer.  I hadn't read Blue Like Jazz when I saw the movie, but I've checked it out of the library and began reading it this morning.  I already love it!

"To me, God was more of an idea.  It was something like a slot machine, a set of spinning images that dolled out rewards based on behavior and, perhaps, chance."
-from chapter 1, Beginnings, Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller

I used to feel this way.  I grew up going to church and found a way to do the 'right' things and managed to look pretty good.  But it wasn't personal.  Then, my family fell apart.  My parents divorced and I became one of those people that no one ever talks about. . . to their face, at least.

I felt like God had let me down.  I went to college and put God on the shelf.  I didn't think I needed him.  That is, until I needed to pay for my schooling.

"Oh, God.  How am I going to do this?  I need you."

Then he came through for me.  I got a scholarship, for which I had not applied.  I had received the scholarship the year before.  No one had applied this particular year, so the attorney, trustee of the fund, sent the money to me.  He happened to send this money just at the same time that I was praying asking God for money.  I received the check two days later.

Then, I put him on the shelf again.

"Problem solved.  I don't need you anymore."

That is, until I needed a co-op job.

"Oh, God.  How am I going to do this?  I need you."

Then he came through for me. . . you see where this is going?  I wasn't getting the co-op job that I thought I wanted.  So, I prayed for a co-op job and told God that I was willing to take anything--even the job that he wanted me to take.  It was the best decision I've ever made.

After that, it became personal.  I started giving up more easily.  Not giving up like laying in bed and not getting dressed all day, but giving up like saying, "Ok, God.  If you have a plan, I know it's going to be better than any plan of mine.  I'll explore all my options, you open the doors, I'll go through them."

This strategy led me to graduate school.

This strategy found me the best wife in the entire world.

This strategy found me a fantastic career.

This strategy brought us to our current hometown.

It has been a wild ride, but I wouldn't trade it, and I'm not going to change my strategy!  I've taken God off the shelf for the last time.