Lies (White, Gray, Black, Purple)

Okay, you all decide.  After visiting Charlie over at his blog and reading his post entitled Liar Liar Pants On Fire, I have a proposition for you (no, not that).  I will have a poll attached to this post.   Please take the extra 15 seconds to vote.  Thank-you.  Charlie’s post talked about lies.  .  .the white lies people tell when planning a surprise party, more lies when turning someone down who’s asked you out, etc.  The basic gist (if I am interpreting it correctly) is that everyone lies and this lying is sort of inevitable.  Of course, at the end of his post, he encourages us to think twice about the lying we sometimes engage in and to address the lies some of us tell ourselves because they can be damaging. 

I started thinking (yeah, watch out) that myself (along with my BFF’s) have little or no patience for lying (unless of course someone is throwing us a surprise party ;-)  ).  When it comes to relationships (romantic, platonic, whatever), I just don’t have the patience for lies whether little or big.  I’d rather skip the B.S. and get down to the nitty gritty.  If you like my eyes, say it and mean it.  If you don’t, there’s no need to lie and say you do.  Compliment me on something you are sincere about.  If there’s no chemistry, I’m going to tell you.  I won’t be cruel about it but I’m not going to lie.  If I get asked out by a sixty-plus year old man (yes, it’s happened), I’m not going to reply, “I already have a boyfriend” or “I’m busy” etc. I’m going to respond with, “I’m not interested” and mean it! 

I am realizing more and more that my dislike for lies and what I interpret as game playing stuffs me into a wee little container along with the few others who feel the same way.  But, hey!  I’m not in my teens anymore, I was married for nearly twelve years, and if I’m going to be in a relationship I want nothing less than complete honesty!  Am I being too honest in this post?  Maybe so, but you do know this is my blog :-).    If my beliefs cause me to check the “single” box for the rest of my life, so be it.  I will never settle for a man who lies (whether in the white, gray, black, purple areas) again.  I still think that a person (not gender specific) who lies to themselves and others about small issues exhibits a predisposition to lie about the big stuff, the important stuff (lying to oneself can be pretty bad).  Okay *stepping down off of soap box* I’m done.  But what do YOU think about lying?  Good sometimes?  Bad all the time?  Don’t really care?  Remember, the poll! 

NPD

 

 

 

 

 

Then-
(you, “The Universe,” thought) 

That-
my intellect-
cerebrated
you

my lips-
explored
you

my heart-
thrummed
you 

my arms-
catered
you

my hands-
stroked
you

my legs-
received
you

my breath-
inhaled
you

Now-
(you, “The Universe,” know better)

And-
(she will know too)

 © Pamela A. Rossow

What Women Want

(This post is dedicated to the great Bald One since he is the master of rants)

A movie called What Women Want came out in 2000. You all remember, right? A comedy about a guy who was zapped by lightning and could get inside women’s heads? He could hear the internal, feminine dialogue of women everywhere which at first drove him crazy until he learned he could use it to his advantage. Like advance his career, land the woman he was interested in, and try to heal his relationship with his daughter. As we all know, that movie is in the genre of fiction.

While there are some men who have us figured out, many of you could use a bolt of lightning or a burning bush or a plane with a huge banner unfurling behind it that gives you step-by-step instructions on how to win over a woman.

Below is my top 5 of what women do not want followed by my top 5 what women do want. Yes, sometimes learning by negation is more effective!

My top 5 of what women do not want:

  1.  Do not feed us crumbs. Contrary to what you think, most of us like to eat and eat voraciously. If you can only provide communication “tidbits” (e.g. tech advances a couple times a year), we are not interested.
  2. Do not reveal your “size” in the hopes that we care.
  3. Do not keep us waiting and waiting and waiting only to never arrive after we have spent hours wondering (primping) and wondering (primping) and wondering (worrying) if you got in a car crash and are lying dead in the morgue.
  4. Do not have your next possible love interest lined up before you let us know it’s over.
  5. Do not give us the notion that you are willing to give us a second chance if you are a one strike you’re out kind of guy.

My top 5 of what women do want:

  1. Do feed us well by following through with ACTIONS (e.g. sincere phone calls, poetry, visits, CHOCOLATE, flowers, letters). Yeah, Hallmark Channel is inadvertently rubbing off on me. This is the food of romance.
  2. Do show us what your character is like (e.g. your ability to communicate well, your honesty, your faithfulness, etc.).
  3. Do pick up the phone if plans change. Manners don’t have an expiration date.
  4. Do be a man–tell us it’s over, THEN move on.
  5. Do admit if you can’t give us another chance to bat. Then leave us alone.

*Men, remember the Golden Rule*

For some of men, this list is as boring as they come. Therefore, feel free to add your insights in the comment section below (and kudos to you)! For many ladies out there and myself included, we will wait for our Mr. Darcys and in the meantime, live.

Shades

 

 

 

 

he never took them

off glare reduction

his protection from

a white light that

made him squint

almost blinded him

yet he was able to

hide (at least that’s

what he thought)

a shield from the

burning bush that

tried to arrest his

attention away from

narcissistic greed and

hatred that stabbed

twisting itself into a

femoral artery crimson

self-infliction pooling

he never took them

off glare reduction

his protection from

a white light that

made him squint

almost blinded him

yet he was able to

hide (at least that’s

what he thought)

Pamela A. Rossow

 

You Found Me

I’m supposed to be resting.  Of course, being on a computer isn’t really resting.  And writing isn’t resting.  I never said I was a compliant patient.  However, I am in bed (that must count for something).  With my laptop.  Writing.  “Stunada” as my Nonnie would have said.  Not in the “out there” sense but in the stubborn, sorta stupid sense (sorry Nonnie). I was recently talking to a good friend late one night.  We’ve both been on this crazy rollercoaster called “Life.”  We’ve had similar experiences, felt the same at times, and, at other moments, diverged.  Our relationship, though, no matter what we are thinking, feeling, or hoping, remains granite solid.  I mentioned a song (by The Fray) on my daughter’s iPod (yes, I borrowed it for a few minutes while outside getting a little vitamin D).  This song asks a lot of questions (yeah, yeah, I know, I can relate), is kinda dark, and, although I’ve heard it at least thirty times, it was the first time I really listened to the words.   I asked my friend if she heard it before (nearly everyone has) and if she knew what the lyrics meant.  I couldn’t identify exactly what touched me about it but I felt it draw me in, put a warm blanket around my shoulders, and nestle a steaming cup of tea in my hands. I didn’t feel alone.  I felt . . . comforted.  Music, as an art form, has that capability (one of the reasons I appreciate it so much). My friend sent me an email with a link to the lyrics as explained by the lead singer and pianist.  I didn’t care that the song was so popular it made it onto various countries’ billboard charts or what TV show used clips of it (even though it’s all true). It spoke to me where I was (where I am). In a place I’ve never been before.  Where, depending on the day, I question God’s existence.  Many before me have been here, many are here now, and many more will visit in the future.  I’m not sure of what my future holds.  It’s okay.  Even in this space, I’m banking that He hasn’t abandoned me.  That He still loves me perfectly (like no other can). That His silence is because, when He does speak again, I will not question that it’s Him.  I will be certain.

Butterweed

she stood a child amidst
waving grasses a cupped
butterweed flower in her
hands slowly she closed
her eyes letting the
azure mist of the skies
drench her soul gently
she began to pluck each
petal a flaxen butterfly
fluttering to the ground
descending in a graceful
dance he loves me he
loves me not he loves
me he loves me. . .
she paused eyes
closed

Pamela A. Rossow

Special Relativity

you in the North Pole
I in the South charged
particles moving in and
out velocity dependent
dipoles connected creating
force and special relations
mixtures of interlocking
electricity + magnetism
F=q(v+B) no monopoles
here just quantum-mechanical
phenomena magnetic flux
and possible permeability

Pamela A. Rossow

The Empty Grave

Dear friends:

 Easter morning is a special one.  Not just because it is a beautiful soflo day.  Not because of the Easter basket with my name on it filled with dark chocolate (and yes, I do love chocolate).  It’s more than this.  Goes a little deeper.  For the last few years, there have been many, many days where I have struggled to maintain belief in God.There have been temper tantrums and angry comments directed heavenward.  Numerous questions gone unanswered and instead of replies, silence.  This whole experience has been a new one for me.  Years of faith, grace, and belief preceded these last difficult years…and for those of you yet to experience them, dark nights can stretch into weeks, weeks can stretch into months, and months can stretched into years.  However, I’m not one to lie down and quietly take it for the team.  So, while despair has tried repeatedly to shove its way into heart, I boot it out.  When depression hovers threatening to engulf me, I reach out and grab hold of dear, strong hands that have helped me tread water and won’t let me drown.

In the midst of all this, I have wondered where God is.  If He is omniscient, all powerful, and all loving, how can he allow innocent children to be abused and neglected?  How can He watch as families splinter and fall apart?  How can He permit hundreds of thousands of people to die from lack of food and access to clean water?  Anyone who has known me well is aware of my tendency from early childhood to ask, “why.”  These “whys” have persisted into adulthood and hardly a day passes in which I do not utter that interrogative at least once.  What I do know, with great certainty, is that there are often no good answers.  Life can be a hell of a lot of climbing with very few “reaching the summit” experiences.  In fact, some of us have been camping out in the valley for years.  But, on a morning such as this one, centuries ago, something either incredibly disturbing or astoundingly amazing happened.  There is no gray area.  If Christ isn’t God and He did not rise from the dead as attested to in Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, then what a morbid hoax.  If Jesus Christ IS the son of God and He was crucified, died, and rose, then it’s truly mind blowing.  As for me, I’m still in a “dark night era.”  I’ll continue to have days, possibly weeks, maybe even months or years where I do not see the hand of God at work in my life or around me.  Yet, Blaise Pascal is a philosophy friend who spoke a lot of wisdom.

“God is, or He is not.” But to which side shall we incline? Reason can decide nothing here. There is an infinite chaos which separated us. A game is being played at the extremity of this infinite distance where heads or tails will turn up… Which will you choose then? Let us see. Since you must choose, let us see which interests you least. You have two things to lose, the true and the good; and two things to stake, your reason and your will, your knowledge and your happiness; and your nature has two things to shun, error and misery. Your reason is no more shocked in choosing one rather than the other, since you must of necessity choose… But your happiness? Let us weigh the gain and the loss in wagering that God is… If you gain, you gain all; if you lose, you lose nothing. Wager, then, without hesitation that He is.

So, I’m wagering He exists.  That Christ rose from the dead, left the tomb, and revealed his resurrected self to a bunch of women.  Sound crazy?  On some level, yes.  Plausible?  I think so.  Again, what do I have to lose?  Life?  We’re all going to die anyway.  My sanity?  Some people would argue it’s questionable all ready (just ask my ex).  So, here’s to celebrating an empty grave.  This is my Easter.  There will be bunnies, baskets, and breaking bread with people I love.  But there’s also contemplation, meditation, and inspiration when I “virtually” peer into that deserted tomb with the women.  And there’s hope.  Lots and lots of it.  So much that it that it couldn’t remain wrapped up in linens.  It had to leave and head out into the world .

Happy Easter to my Christian friends.  And for those of you who are close to my heart and think today is incredibly disturbing, shalom.  And for you who are teetering on the tightrope between belief and disbelief, reach out.  You’ll be surprised at the strength of the hands that will help you.

Sincerely,

Pamela