Lifestyle Tips by Jennifer Scully

Curvy Girls of the World, Unite!

2015-10-13T19:35:00.001-07:00

The Plight Of The Curvy Girl

First off, I'd like to say a big thank you to Kim Kardashian and Sofia Vergara for making their famous figures so well, in style. Crazy, right?! Crazy that a body part or type is en vogue. Not that I'm complaining. I, too was overly blessed in certain areas and although I am not comparing myself to them because they are really incredibly gorgeous women, I can relate.

By the way, boys...curvy does not mean fat! It means curvy, which means voluptuous and feminine. In my dreams I have the legs of a 12 year-old Asian boy so I can fit into every piece of clothing I try on but alas, my legs are built to press 200 lbs. so, I ask, whom would you rather be with in a dark alley? Yeah, I thought so!

I am a late bloomer and always have been. Heck, I only started my career at age 37. When I was in college, no matter how hard I tried to get A's, I was given a big C+; actually, two of them. Right on my chest, that is. I weighed 115 lbs and I'm 5'3" tall. Most of that was in the back and in the front. Suddenly, no matter what clothing I wore, I seemed to either look cheap or pregnant.

You see, curvy girls can't wear baggy clothing, empire waist or skinny jeans with a man-tailored shirt (thank god that is out of style!!).

Sure, runway models look awesome in potato sacks but put one on me and you might want to call a marine rescue group and roll me into the ocean. Protrusions in the front and the back seem to act like Velcro and clothing just gets "stuck." And you can bet that potato sack is a bunch shorter in the back!

Please don't get me started on jeans.

Everyone always asks me, "Why do you always dress up?" I've worn skirts or dresses most of my life. The answer is, they don't make jeans that fit me, so unless I have clothes custom made, I'm stuck wearing a ball gown to Six Flags.

After the birth of my daughter, I gained a lot of weight. When I first started my business, I was more than chunky. Profoundly plump would be a nice way of putting it. The thing that I realized is I became nonthreatening. People were nicer to me. Men and women alike. I suddenly became very approachable. This is something I had never experienced in my lifetime and I loved it! It has been difficult for me to lose weight because of this.

When I'm thin, my proportions are almost identical to Marilyn Monroe's (I just read an article quoting her dressmaker- she was a size 4!). Chicks don't dig that very much and men get the wrong impression. It's crazy how people judge you by how you look. In high school, people thought I was easy. I wasn't at all and if you ask anyone who dated me then, they will tell you the truth. Right, Todd? Like, as if the way your body naturally looks defines your personality or behavior. That's just silly!

In junior high and high school, when everyone was wearing baggy champion sweatshirts and Keds with gigundo sweat socks forming "cankles", I was wearing miniskirts and tighter shirts. I wasn't trying to show off. I was just trying to not look heavy. I often feel like I'm playing dress-up; like I'm a little girl raiding mom's closet when I wear loose-fitting clothing. It just doesn't work for us ladies with ahem, "dimension."

Being a Mediterranean woman, I've always loved food. i've heard Sophia Loren being quoted as saying, "I owe my body to spaghetti." I get it, Sophia. I really do. My love affair with food has sometimes turned to hatred. I found myself at times struggling with bulimia and anorexia, and sometimes simultaneously. I just wanted to be flatter, thinner. I wanted to fit in with the ideal beauty standards I was seeing in magazines and on TV. My curves always brought me unwanted attention.

The first time in my life I became at peace with my curves was when I was in my early 30's. I met a few people during that time who told me that I was the most amazing person on the inside. I heard it so often that it made me think that there might be some truth to it. I suddenly felt powerful and larger than life because when I looked at myself on the inside, I realized that my true beauty was there. It was the first time in my life that I felt confident because of who I am and not what I look like and I reprogrammed my brain.

I started doing charity work and started focusing so much on the things in life that are truly most important like relationships with friends and family and caring for others. And I no longer cared about what people thought about me. I still don't, twelve years later. Inner peace is the biggest gift I ever gave to myself.

My weight may go up and down, my curves may get larger and smaller, my face is sagging my eyelids are falling, but at age 42, I've never felt more beautiful because I finally feel comfortable inside my voluptuous outer shell. It's a part of me and I am a part of it. And there ain't no escaping. Happiness comes from the inside and that is what we should focus on.

I'm still waiting for large, strong thighs to be in style, but I digress...ha!

If you are a little bit rounder and softer than you would like, please know that you are beautiful; inside and out. Curvy girls of the world unite!

Mrs. Claus And Santa- Verge Of Divorce

2014-11-13T05:38:00.002-08:00

Santa flees middle of the night- claims custody of the reindeer!

SHOULDN’T THESE KIDS JUST BE HAPPY WITH ANY TOY? WHY ARE THEY ASKING FOR SOMETHING SO EXPENSIVE?

It takes a lot to get me angry. It’s difficult for me to even say the word. Think Richard Gere in Pretty Woman, “I’m ang-gry.”

I’m peaceful, loving and I calm others down. Cool under pressure and always seeing the positive outcome, even if it’s in the distance.

But here’s my beef: The whole idea of Mrs. Claus For A Cause is to grant wishes. The kids want what they want. Whether your child is privileged or under-so, kids see what their friends have, what’s on TV and when given a chance, they let you know that the coolest, latest toy or game is something that they covet.

“Dear Santa,

Please bring me a blue Power Ranger but not the one with the bent arm. And I also want a red bicycle with training wheels and a blue bell.

I love you Santa. You are the best!

Love,

John”

Poof! Wish granted.

That’s the idea. We give the children what they ask for to instill hope and to help them believe in something.

The children we are working with are “at-risk” and what does that mean? Many have 0-1 parents present in their lives. Many are in foster care, some are in homeless shelters and they are neither being fully nourished in their bellies nor their souls.

SO SHOULDN’T THESE KIDS JUST BE HAPPY WITH ANY TOY? WHY ARE THEY ASKING FOR SOMETHING SO EXPENSIVE?

We are not Toys For Tots. NO. The children shouldn’t be happy with just anything.

Think about this- a diner waitress takes your order for over easy eggs and rye toast and instead she brings you a turkey burger. She clearly wasn’t listening. You are disappointed. You send it back.. You don’t even eat TURKEY! So why should a little girl who asks Santa for a Frozen doll be happy with a toy phone?

These kids are extremely grateful. I have experienced it myself firsthand. Some of them even write in their letters that if Santa can’t afford to get them what they want they will be happy with any gift. And that touches my heart.

But that’s not the point. We have to get these kids what they ask for because we are far more like Make-A-Wish than Toys For Tots.

The magic is in Santa. He is listening. He cares. He makes a TREMENDOUS effort. He flies around the entire world in one day, for cryin’ out loud!

If a 5 year-old child asks Santa for a bicycle for Christmas or a video game system, that child does not know the cost of that item. And that child should not settle and just be happy with anything at all.

This all being said, Mrs. Claus needs major help.

I do apologize for bombarding your walls with post after post and for attempting to contact news outlets and anyone who has ears or eyes to solicit their help but the truth of the matter is, I am scared. I am scared that the children will be let down.

300 children still remain without donors and/or funds to purchase their gifts.

I need help because one thing Mrs. Claus realized after being a single mom for 5 years is it is hard to do this thing we call life alone. Life is better shared and easier shared. Santa, elves and reindeer are all needed or Christmas just won’t work.

I thank you for your love, your generosity and your time. I believe in this cause with all of my heart and I thank you for the amazing people who do also.

My hope is to reach the goal of bringing every child their gift to their Christmas party on December 19^th because failure is not an option.

To make a donation, please visit Mrs. Claus For A Cause on http://www.gofundme.com/gfp9m8?forcedesktop=1

$5 helps. And it all adds up.

Love to you all and if you see Santa, tell him to come home. I need some help around the house.

Mrs. Claus over and out.

XOXOXOXO

Choosing The Perfect Kitchen Paint Color

2014-06-11T17:52:00.004-07:00

In order to avoid coming home from the paint store with 900 paper swatches that you might tape to the wall or buying 79 little sample jars and painting little squares all over the place, you must first limit your choices.

If you have an existing kitchen, take a look at your countertop.

If you have a granite or marble countertop, chances are there are a few colors streaming through it. The best to look for painting any sheetrock portions of the kitchen is to pick your favorite color out of that stone countertop and paint your walls that color. That way you are sure to love it and you can be certain that it blends well with your color scheme.

If you have a solid colored countertop, take a look at your backsplash, your cabinet color, your floor color or even something like your favorite dish towel or serving platter. Take cues from what you already have in your space and there you will find the perfect paint color.

If you are putting in a new kitchen, always start with the floor.

Choose the perfect floor. Is it wood? Is it tile? Is it vinyl? Make your selection and then take a sample of your flooring to the cabinet showroom.

Once your cabinet finish is selected, bring your floor sample and your cabinet sample to the stoneyard to select your countertop material.

Now that you've got a gorgeous counter, bring your floor, cabinet and counter samples to the tile store and pick out the perfect backsplash that ties everything together.

Bring a paint deck with you to the tile store, so now you can see your floor, cabinets, counters, backsplash and paint colors all in one shot.

And if your budget is running low, don't discount washable vinyl wallpaper as a backsplash. It cleans beautifully and can look fantastic!

Colors and textures in a kitchen aren’t a mystery. What pulls it all together is not magic, but really thoughtful choices and the ability to see everything together before it’s installed or even ordered.

I am constantly called in to help decorate after the renovations have taken place and mistakes have been made. I much prefer when my clients have me come in from the beginning so we can avert disaster.

Did you know that hiring a designer who works the way I do costs less than if you buy everything on your own?

I hope these tips can help take the guesswork out of choosing the perfect color for your kitchen. As always, I'm here for advice or whatever you need. Feel free to reach out to a professional if you're stuck or if you want to take advantage of serious discounts.

Feel free to contact me: jenn@jenniferscullydesigns.com
www.jenniferscullydesigns.com
www.discountdesignerfurnishings.com

Fit For a King?

2014-05-30T21:52:00.001-07:00

Here it is in the middle of the night. After my way-too-late cup of coffee, I ponder life, love and contentment.

I use the word "contentment" in lieu of happiness because happiness is fleeting. An underlying sense of peace mixed with moments of excitement in my opinion is the perfect recipe for happiness. Without that foundation of peace you are just on a bumpy roller coaster at a bad carnival right after polishing off a corn dog and some Dippin' Dots.

My child is so happy right now. My work is amazing. Both of those aspects of my life are filled with peace and moments of excitement as am I. The one thing I'm missing is someone with whom to share it all.

The difficult part is to envision what will happen in the future. I have had crystal clear visions of exactly what I want which I have meditated on and those visions have magically appeared and became reality, but then...there's always the fizzle. Like an apparition; whether it's been my dream job, my dream man, my dream anything, it all comes to me right after I wish for it and then POOF! It's gone.

We create our own destinies, right? I am pretty good at seeing things in my brain and making them happen but no matter how hard I try to do that I seem to encounter obstacles at every turn. It's like the Universe has other plans for me. What's that movie about the people who cheat death but then all die anyway? I don't know. I've heard about this elusive thing called a "movie." I don't have time for frivolous stuff like that these days.

When speaking of my dating woes: not meeting the right quality of people, not liking most, finding other workaholics with no free time, people with more baggage than I could possibly strap onto my strong back, etc., my friend told me tonight that no one is good enough for me. If that's the case, am I to settle or to be alone? Because I don't seen another choice here. I'm very content and I am an only child so being alone is not an issue but alone forever? That's a long time. When I asked my best friend who might be good enough for me, because someone has to be, (right?) she responded, "A king."

A king. Right. Good. Fine.

So, I am no longer expecting Prince Charming to ride up on his stealthy steed but his father. That's why he's taking so long. He's a little older and his gait is slower. Hopefully this king still has most of his teeth in tact but really, teeth are pretty unimportant now. Of course, this is what happens when you turn 40.

My Dearest Lola

2014-05-23T16:35:00.001-07:00

To My Dearest Daughter,

First off, words cannot express how much I adore you and your smart, funny, confident personality. Please don’t ever lose that and don’t let anyone try and take that away from you.

You are special, different and uniquely you. People will like you just the way you are or they can take a hike. Don’t try to change for anyone but do constantly learn, grow and strive to be the best person you can be.

Each day is a new day to be your best. If you ever finding yourself dreading Mondays, ask yourself why and DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! I love Mondays. Mondays signify a rebirth, a wealth of new opportunities; a time each week when I can try to do better, be better and get smarter.

Embrace change. Change is the only constant in our lives. Be okay with moving.

As your mom, I feel the need to say, “I’m sorry.” I’m sorry I have to work so hard. I’m sorry I have to work such long hours. You see, no matter how well I do, I still don’t make enough. I am working on that, My Love. And each day I find better and better opportunities to be able to have enough for us without sacrificing too much time. I do want a life outside of work and I want more time with you.

I wish your life to be much easier and much less bumpy than mine. I wish for you all the things I used to wish for like everlasting love, a white picket fence and a wonderful life filled with learning, travel and laughter. I’ve had that many times and I do cherish each precious memory. In the recent past, we’ve experienced less of that stuff and more of the stressful stuff and for that, I am also deeply sorry. Things are getting better each day and soon you and I will be on a wonderful vacation together.

Always remember: Happiness is an unattainable goal. Perfection doesn’t exist. Peace of mind, confidence, knowing you’re a good person; a strong, smart person who can solve any problem life may throw you…that is an attainable goal. That is something you can do. I hope I am a good example for you in that regard. Life isn’t always happy but it’s about creating more moments of excitement than not and it’s also about knowing how to deal with yucky stuff when it comes up.

Dance the tango while you’re doing dishes, sing your heart out while you’re stuck in traffic, practice your best tap dancing moves while on line at CVS.

Create your own excitement. Be yourself. Express yourself. Love yourself as much as I love you.

Love,

Mama

Look, Mom! I'm on TV! Home Staging Tips and Tricks

2013-08-22T15:24:00.003-07:00

I would like to thank Elizabeth Cassidy, Stephanie Stern, Waldo Cabrera and Verizon who created this video with us on staging a home.

Huge thanks to Pete Sobierajski from JP Services who donated not only his own services but donated a whole team of men to help this elderly homeowner who so desperately needed to sell her home.

I had an amazing time!

Here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DU3qfiz8VfY

What didn't make it into the video:

We spent $2,900 and staged this entire home in one day.

$1,100 spent on paint, slipcovers, bedspreads, lighting, kitchen cabinet knobs, throw pillows and small decor items.

$1,800 spent on labor for a team of highly-skilled men

What exactly did we do to stage this home?

We:

painted the outdoor furniture, mailbox, living room, dining room and kitchen

removed all extraneous furniture and decor items

repurposed all remaining furniture

rehung existing artwork

cleaned, organized and merchandised all rooms in the home

replaced window treatments in living room, dining room and guest room

replaced lighting in the bathroom, living room, dining room and kitchen

removed all family photos and personal items

removed old carpeting

repaired screen door

painted front door, mailbox and house numbers

organized backyard furniture

then we cleaned some more

The result? Instead of sitting on the market for a year incurring price reduction after price reduction, this house sold in a couple of months for a very fair price.

If we had more than one day and more of a budget (Pete Sobierajski from JP Services and I shared the cost and donated our services so the homeowner didn't have to pay for anything) we would have done more, however, he positive results of even small improvements to the home before it goes on the market are evident here.

Sometimes all you need is professional advice and good, old-fashioned elbow grease. :-)

Please enjoy our video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DU3qfiz8VfY

Contact jpservices@ymail.com for any phase of construction or remodeling.

Kick-Start Your Weight Loss

2013-07-30T10:55:00.000-07:00

A bunch of you have recently asked me for more weight loss tips, so here you go.

Since I have always been more of a Marilyn Monroe body type than say a Kate Moss, I have always struggled with 10-15 lb fluctuations. On a short girl, even 5 extra lbs looks like a lot. My body wants to be voluptuous. I used to want to be skinny. Now I just want to be healthy. I recently did what I have written below and it yielded tremendous results.

I have mentioned this privately to those of you who have been interested in the nitty gritty details of a relatively easy and no-brainer weight loss aid. The place to start is fiber.

Now, yes, what I am recommending here is tree bark (cellulose) and it's not the greatest thing to eat all the time but it's hard to eat 7,000 prunes a day or to get enough fiber to get your body clean with fresh food so I cheat a little with this when I need a jumpstart. I will leave the frequency and longevity of this up to you but this really works and works quickly and safely.

Fiber One Cereal is one of the only "easy" foods found in every supermarket and most drug stores that will give you enough fiber to cleanse your body.

The original Fiber One formula contains 57% of your daily fiber needs and the Honey Clusters formula contains 51%. Either of these cereals is a great way to cleanse your body naturally without flushing your system with juices or those "Hollywood" diets, which actually only dehydrate you and can be quite dangerous.

If you don't like the cereal and need another alternative, Gnu Foods makes bars called Flavor & Fiber. They have 12 grams of fiber per serving and are great if you are on the go. Fiber fills you up and satisfies cravings.

Increasing the fiber in your diet cleans the cilia in your colon. Doing this not only promotes weight loss and healthy body function but it also can help prevent diseases that stem from having plaque build-up in your colon.

Add coconut oil, hot sauce, flax seeds and tea to your diet. Remove pasta, rice and ALL sugar and ALL processed foods. Green coffee beans work, Tonalin works. My thing is I forget to take pills. I'm a healthy girl so I'm not used to taking anything on a regular basis but I always remember to eat breakfast so this is, in my opinion, the easiest thing to do to at least get you on your way.

Eat one bowl of this cereal below with skim milk every morning within 20 minutes after waking. Add almonds, fresh berries, flaxseeds, whatever you like and make it a complete and really satisfying meal.

Eating as soon as you wake up is a signal to your body that it should rev up its engine. If you can force yourself, even though you may not be hungry, you will absolutely burn more calories and feel much better.

For the rest of your snacks and meals, please eat real, fresh food: fruits, vegetables, nuts, seeds, meat, poultry and fish. Limit carbs for the rest of the day. If you can make everything you eat organic, free-range, no hormones, no antibiotics, all the better. What's faster than fast food? Fruit. It's faster to run into a store and buy an apple and some almonds than it is to go to a Drive-Thru. Plus you'll have more energy, you'll feel better and look better.

Drink water and tea. Even diet soda plays with your insulin production. A mango tea with a fresh mint leaf and some Stevia is just as satisfying. I am a coffee girl myself (with milk, no sugar) and can't seem to give that up. It doesn't seem to interfere with weight loss.

After two weeks of eating this cereal within 20 minutes of waking you should drop a clothing size or more.

Say no to "Would you like to make that deluxe?" (french fries) and say yes to burgers wrapped in lettuce with hot sauce. Eat two. Skipping the carbs and sugars after breakfast will make you feel lighter. Feeling lighter makes you in turn eat less. That's why this is a jumpstart.

I went from a size 10 to a size 8 in two weeks just by eating this cereal and without making any other changes in my diet or exercise regimen. I went from an 8 to a 6 within four weeks. Then, depending upon my day, I either ate small meals throughout the day or at least a larger lunch and smaller dinner (try not eating after 6 or 7 PM). I always drink lots of water, even in the winter. This is all a start and the beginning step is easy.

It works for me. Try it and see how you do!

http://www.amazon.com/Gnu-Foods-Flavor-Orange-Cranberry/dp/B000VZENSE/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1375206432&sr=8-1&keywords=flavor+and+fiber+cranberry

Ode To My Father

2013-06-16T17:45:00.001-07:00

I wrote this poem below today in about 5 minutes. It wasn't planned. It just happened.

A little backstory: My father died of a drug overdose when I was four years-old. It was a tragic accident, some said. Some people just couldn't handle their drugs, others mumbled.

When I was sixteen, my father's mother called me to tell me she was dying. She had some things of my father's that she had wanted me to have before she passed. My grandmother handed me an orange leather suitcase and told me to go through it when I got home.

Inside were my dad's high school yearbook, his bronzed baby shoes, a few Polaroid photographs, some of my stuffed animals from when I was a baby and a sealed envelope with my name on it.

The letter was a note written to me by my father explaining that he wasn't a good dad, couldn't be a proper role model and I would be happier without him. He described his death as planned. It was a suicide. Since no one was with him at the time of his death, no one had known exactly what had happened to him. But there in my tiny dormered bedroom in the two bedroom Cape Cod in which I grew up; on that sunny afternoon when I was a sophmore in high school, I found out the truth.

Ode To My Father

You were born out of love
But that love quickly waned
A tumultuous childhood stole your smile
You grew up, you fell in love
And soon a child had his child

You played the part, you did your job
You tried to make it work
‘Two children raising a child?’
I say now, with a smirk

Your anger, regret and angst quickly made you sick
Your disease soon overtook you
And there was no turning back

There was no high that was high enough
That could help you free your mind
From the demons of your past
Looming close behind

You tried to be good, you tried to be there
But you just couldn’t do it
You said I’d be better without you
And you made quick work of it

A father should be there in mind, body and spirit
You took your life for “my sake” instead
Though I didn’t want to hear it

Leaving is a selfish act though you claim it selfless
For there is a hole in my heart that cannot be filled
That feeling on occasion is relentless

I must forgive to get me through
Around my mind it’s hard to bend
Why you thought I didn’t need you
I can never comprehend

We all have struggles we’re not unique
But it’s in how we deal with them
That’s why I choose to stay, face and fight with the best of them

My daughter is now 7 with smiles upon her face
Because her father chose to heal instead and occupy her space

The most powerful thing, Dad, is that history is not repeating in this very important case

My Meeting With Usher

2013-06-13T14:40:00.004-07:00

In 2004, just after my marriage dissolved, as a newly single woman trying to make my $3,700 per month Manhattan rent any way I could, I became a singing, acting, modeling, make-up artist. I piece-mealed a living. It worked. I enjoyed the freedom, the flexibility and the chaos working all those jobs provided me.

The year-long Enrique Iglesias tour I was on had just ended and instead of singing for 110,000 people in London or on TV in front of millions on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno, you could have found me singing at weddings, bar-mitzvahs or any clubs or restaurants in NYC that would agree to pay me. On my days off from performing, I took to driving to Long Island to help my mother by working in her chocolate shop. I miss that chocolate. My mom closed the doors to her confectionary empire about 4 years ago.

The tour manager from Enrique's camp with whom I had become friendly called me up one day and invited me to an Usher concert at The Garden. "Usher? Who's that?" I was so busy working during that time trying to scramble up an income that you wouldn't have been able to catch me chilling out on the drive to LI listening to the radio, bopping along to the latest tunes on Z-100. Instead I was on the phone making deals or racking my brain to figure out the next step in my life. And since I worked nights and weekends as a singer, I couldn't make it to the bars or clubs so I lived under a rock, pretty much. I really didn't know anything about this Usher dude but I wanted to support my friend and his new 'little tour job thingy,' so I said yes.

I was promised front row seats but when I got there I was told that Naomi Campbell, at the last minute, had purchased every seat in the first three rows of Madison Square Garden. Apparently Naomi and this "Usher person" were dating at the time. The venue was sold out. There wasn't a seat in the house; a mishap that won me the rare privilege of watching the show from the stage. The feeling that night was electric. My viewing area was actually a 1'x1' section of wooden floor in "the wings", a theater term used to describe the sides of the stage behind the curtain. I stood there for the first few minutes of the show, which was mind-blowing, when I was suddenly nudged. I looked over my shoulder for a brief second but then turned back to watch the show. A moment later I got a shove; I mean a really big shove out of the way. When I looked next to me to see who could be so rude, it was none other than Diddy. Diddy, who, despite his clout, had an even smaller section than 1 square foot in which I had to stand, so he stole some of my prime space. It was my second time being that close to him. You can check out my first Diddy meeting on my blog.

After about 5 minutes of trying to ignore the smell of too-strong cologne and enjoy the show, I took notice of my surroundings. Diddy's entire entourage had slowly seeped in. They completely infringed upon my space and I was muscled out of the way. My tour manager friend noticed my predicament, grabbed me by the hand, ran me out front to the second row of seats on the floor in front of the stage and said, "Here. Is that better? Naomi and her camp all cancelled. No one's showing up. You have the whole three rows to yourself, Darlin.'"

And there I was. And there he was. It was me and Usher, Usher and Me. I should preface this by mentioning that I sang at Madison Square Garden the previous year and the way the lights hit your eyes, you can only really see the first two or three rows in the center on the floor and since I was the only person sitting in that entire section...He was supposed to be looking out at Naomi Campbell and her 80 or so friends but they "flaked out" at the last minute and just I was there instead. It was me and Usher, there on that night; virtually alone. An intimate concert pour deux. I felt so uncomfortable. Because all he could really see was me, he made eye contact throughout the whole show. His presence is strong and his stare intense. And even though I have years of musical and dance training, I was suddenly feeling like this awkward white girl with no rhythm because I didn't know the music.

Usher was and still is very handsome and he commanded the stage like Michael Jackson. He owned it. His demeanor was smooth, sexy, strong and he sang and danced his ass off. Every good performer uses crowd participation by turning their microphone toward their loyal fans so they can sing along with the music. Usher likes to do this a lot; I would imagine that singing and dancing for the entire show gets tiresome so a little help from the audience is probably necessary. Since I had never heard any of his music before in my life, every time he did that, I sank in my chair a little deeper, nodded and politely smiled. He looked so deflated. He was almost becoming angry; perhaps not at me per se but at Naomi and then at his management for not filling the front few rows with, well, at least fans when his girlfriend blew him off. I know from experience, the energy a performer gets from the crowd is so crucial to the performance. I totally ruined his night.

After the show, my friend took me backstage to introduce me to Usher. I could tell he was a little pissed. He was wondering why I came. His mind was racing. He was speechless. Then he said, "I saw you out there. In front, right? That was you?" I said, "Oh, yes that was me. I'm so sorry that I don't know your music. My friend Bill told me you are really talented and I should check out your show so I came to support him. Great job, man. I really enjoyed it." Usher responded "I could tell" in a sarcastic tone. I am pretty sure I was the only woman Usher shook hands with that night who didn't at least almost faint.

Usher, I'm sorry for that night. I'm more sorry about your girlfriend. And thank goodness you're not still dating her. Good move!

How Well Do You Know Yourself?

2013-03-08T00:55:00.002-08:00

I am constantly amazed at the number of people who don't seem to know much about the subject they should get straight A's in. Themselves.

There are few things I know so much about but then again, I am an only child and I have had quite a bit of time to think.

It's obvious a person isn't too well-acquainted with himself when he's asked, (and please don't ask), "So, tell me about yourself." (which is like the worst non-question-that's-really-a-cop-out-in-command-form ever) You'll get, "I'm a doctor. I studied at Yale University. I'm 32 years old. I grew up in Boston." And more fantastically interesting and min-blowingly deep answers like that. Is that who you are? Is what you do to make money or where you went to school- is that what defines you? I actually NEVER ask someone what they do for a living unless they are super-quiet, we're only half-way on a drive from NY to FL and I'm plum outta questions.

The more meaty questions are: What is your passion? What are your dreams? Goals? What is your favorite thing to do when you are alone? What is the one thing you could change about yourself if only you could?

A few things I already know about me: I crave chaos so I create it by procrastinating, rushing, creating impossible to-do lists or daily tasks. I need to feel accomplishment. I can't sleep with the door closed. I think too much. Conversely and yet simultaneously, I let my heart decide too often. I eat when I'm stressed. I hate taking out the garbage and running errands. I abhor food shopping or any shopping for myself. I haven't worn my 'dry clean only' clothes in 10 months because I just can't get myself to go to the dry cleaner. It's the wrote and mundane and I hate it! I hate mean people and being cold. And cold, by the way, is anything less than 60 degrees- only because cold is so relative. And now I'm done with that part. I don't like the word "hate" and only reserve it for those select items.

I would probably steal your chocolate when you're not looking. But then I would buy you some more...online. Did ya hear me when I said I hate shopping?

I pick at my cuticles. I deprive myself too often.

I know that there's no such thing as perfect but I still always try. It's a losing battle, so I breathe and let it go, but tomorrow I may just try again. I am the definition of insanity in that case. I attempt to win approval from those whom are so difficult to give it. I fail and then...try again. I have been called "crazy, but in a good way" more than once. I can be really fun!

I challenge myself and set goals which I always achieve (some I am in the middle of achieving as I write). I am sensitive yet strong. I am on a good path. I can't change. No one can. So it's about acceptance. I accept myself. I'm always trying to be better and do better and I believe everyone should but in the end, we will still be ourselves, only better. Know that about your own damn self and everyone around you. People don't change! P-e-o-p-l-e d-o-n-t c-h-a-n-g-e.

Favorite place on earth so far? Italy. Next dream vacation? Brazil, maybe. The rainforest seems so magical, don't it?

I used to dance naked in front of the mirror when I was alone. Now, I work. I'm trying to change that but it's a process.

Enough about me. Let's talk about you:

Where would you live if you could choose anywhere on earth?

If you could trade lives for a week with anyone living or dead whom would that be?

If you could ask Martin Luther King, Jr. one question, what would that be?

Who would you rather see as our next president- Bill Gates or George Clooney and why?

What makes you cry?

If you were living on a deserted island and had plenty of fruit and nuts would you take up hunting or fishing? I'm saying you don't have to for nutritional purposes. Yes? What are you, a savage?

You're at the movies and you can only choose popcorn OR Goldenberg's Peanut Chews. Which one? Quick. There's a long line!

What makes you laugh so hard you start crying? Well, go out and do that right now and then tell me about it so I can laugh with you.

Please ask yourself these important questions and others- just keep going. Take one of those dating quizzes like the 17,000 page one on eharmony.com because if you know yourself you then possess the key to making yourself happy/satisfied/peaceful/fulfilled; even for a moment, an hour, a day, an hour a day, whatever it is. You can't rely on others to give you the feeling of happiness, peace or acceptance or what you need at the moment. And remember, a happy life just consists of more fun moments than not, so don't be afraid to tip the scale. Make good choices. Choose to not be angry or frustrated. Choose instead to laugh it off. No one has it easier or harder than you. It's all how you process it, handle it and most simply, look at it.

Dating Horror Story #?

2013-02-24T11:39:00.001-08:00

Online dating is for creeps. Who said that? I breathe deeply and begin my story.

So this story takes place awhile back. I'm telling this story just now, hoping enough time has passed that "he", the subject, will forget to look me up. All names, most places and gory details will be changed to protect the innocent.

I was contacted through an online dating site by a gentleman who is a few years younger than I. He had these piercing blue eyes, that shone even through my computer screen like pale blue spotlights. They were as large as saucers; like a beautiful doll in a very expensive toy store. He seemed very nice and super-interesting but yet didn't say much about himself except that he is a writer. A writer. Nice. Creative, thoughtful, insightful, intelligent. Love him already.

I googled him, saw his photo, saw that he is in fact a writer, read one piece of his, saw a video of him on a major TV show and knew it was safe to pass on my phone number. I had asked him to call me but he never did. He preferred email. Okay. He's a writer. Fine.

We made plans to meet for one drink in NYC. I worked a full day, showered after work and hauled my butt to the city. When I arrived in Manhattan, I received a text from him that he would be late. "Ok, no problem" was my answer. I went to the spot he had chosen to wait for him. It was a very noisy bar/club with a doorman, red velvet rope and filled with half-naked 20 year old kids. I walked in, pretended to see someone in the back and when the coast was clear I promptly darted toward the ladies' room.

My head was pounding from the Boom ba-boom-boom Super Bass after being there for 14 seconds. How would I get through an hour or more at this place? How would this guy be able to hear a word I said? I looked at msyelf in that ladies room mirror and said, "Self? You gotta get outta this joint and pronto, Bub. Ya hear?" So I ventured out onto the Manhattan street in search of a more suitable place, all the while, trying to conjure up a reason why I changed locations so as to lead him away from the thought that I'm not "fun" or "cool" enough to meet at a club.

He sent another text, another excuse, another half hour or more. He's really late now. It's been an hour. I'm already here. What to do? Turn around and go home or display my go-with-the-flow attitude?

I walked east in an attempt to find another place in the neighborhood we could meet that would say I'm a cool chick but I am a quiet, romantic chick. I stumbled upon a bar on 2nd Avenue and walked in for inspection. When I opened the door, like a vacuum, the smell of what must have been 47 years of dried, spilled beer and vomit sucked me in and filled my nose. Maybe a choice like this would prove that "I can hang?"I stayed for about a minute and when I found out there was a punk band setting up I decided to keep walking. And walking. Nope. There was nothing else around. I was wondering if I was in some kind of bizarre vortex. I was in Manhattan and couldn't find a place to meet someone? I walked downtown.

I meandered a few blocks down and came upon a fire house with an open garage door. As I neared the opening, I noticed a few firemen standing right in the doorway. I approached the group of strapping lads wearing tight t-shirts with a deep breath and a smile. Upon closer inspection, my jaw began to drop as it looked like they were in the middle of the meeting to decide which one would be chosen to be on the cover of the NYC Firefighter Calendar. Hunky, tall, strong and wow, to say the least.

I looked around their semi-circle, wiggled my way in and waited politely to say, ahem, "Excuse me?" They all stopped and stared at me like I was a baby gazelle with a wounded leg in the middle of the African grasslands during a drought. I asked them if they could recommend a place in the neighborhood to have a first date. "It's a blind date", I said, "and he's 1 1/2 hours late." One fireman, Mike, introduced himself. He told me he lives on Long Island and he was getting off in 20 minutes. If I could wait, he would be happy to take me anywhere I wanted. I sheepishly giggled and gracefully declined, stating that I had made plans with someone and wouldn't want to stand that person up. Mike said, "Well, anyone who leaves you stranded for this long can't be worth waiting for. If you change your mind, you know where to find me." Then Mike told me about a place just down the block that was a quaint a quiet, dark and romantic place to grab a drink. I went there, ordered a drink and made myself comfortable. Two or three more texts later, my date showed up. Almost 2 1/12 hours late.

He began by asking me if I knew who he was. I said no. His mouth fell open and his already silver dollar sized eyes grew even larger. He went on to tell me about how he is famous and kind of went on to say that I must live under a rock if I didn't know of him. Well, I do live under a rock. I own two businesses and I'm a single mom with 5 pets. When do I have time for TV, reading, going out, keeping up with pop culture, etc.? I'm lucky I have time to shower! This guy was very disappointed that I wasn't impressed with him, his celebrity friends or his phenomenal name-dropping skills so the date went nowhere and we cordially parted ways. He said I should start singing again and he would take me out for karaoke but I didn't think that would be the best idea and it never happened. Narcissism is a disease that can't be cured and I don't want to even co-chair a charity like that.

I want to thank Mike the fireman from Long Island for making an awful night so much better at least in retrospect and Mike, I should have waited the 20 minutes for you and told famous boy that I wait 2 1/2 hours for no one. Firemen are truly heroes.

Turning 40

2013-02-23T23:26:00.002-08:00

Is 40 the new 30 or are we just fooling ourselves (or filling ourselves) with Botox?

I turned 40 on October 25th of 2012, though it's still hard for me to believe. FORTY. It's such a dirty word. Still. Really? I didn't think so. I thought that all changed. I don't feel old. I actually feel like I'm 26. I have no idea why I chose 26, just sounds like a good number, I guess.

When you tell people you're 20-something or thirty-something they say things like, "Oh, you're still a youngin'" or "You have so much more life to live." When your response to the question of how old you are is "Forty", drop that F-bomb and step back because you get hit with all sorts of ammunition; it can feel like laser-like shots from a water gun filled straight from the garden hose on a hot summer day and just as shockingly cold. You may hear, with jaw in dropped position: "WOW!" or "Really?!" or "You look good for your age", "I would have never guessed FORTY", but never, "You're still so young!" Those days are gone, my fine forty friends.

Something happened between October 24th and October 25th of last year. I became old. I turned. I spoiled; passed my expiration date if you will. It must be the whole female biological clock thing. Mine is ticking exactly as it should be, with the precision of a Timex. I feel great. No complaints.

What upsets me is the double standard going on here, as men who are 40 can snatch up much younger women. Although I do receive advances from men who are in their 20's, I just don't see that ever working and I never take those boys (sorry boys) seriously. Impossible. Poor Demi Moore. I don't blame Ashton a bit. He was just too young to be able to see into the future. He's like a big kid and he wants kids. Demi just couldn't be there for him in that way but me, I still have time. Hey, Ashton? How YOU doin'? Kidding. I'm much more of a Justin Timberlake fan. Maybe it's my touring days that affect that decision but JT wins, hands down. That man has got some soul, depth and incredible talent.

So, my fine-feathered forties, we all get so caught up in day-to-day "stuff" with the job, house, kids, marriage, divorce, what have you and we sometimes forget to check in with ourselves.

Here are a couple of things I think about and if you recently turned 40 like I did, some of these things might be helpful to remember:

* Feel proud (hey, you've been alive a loooooong time ;))
* Eat lots of veggies
* Hydrate inside with water, outside with almond or coconut oil
* Look forward and be present
* Forgive your family/friends (hey, who knows how long we all have left? Ha!)
* Sleep 8 hours per night
* Set goals
*Tick something off your bucket list
*Be generous of yourself
* Be kind in everything you do
* Kiss and hug your children
*Make children if you don't yet have any (they're pretty cool)
*Know the difference between saying "I love you" and actions of love and act, damn it. Act!
* Learn something new (the art of basket weaving, perhaps?)
* Breathe deeply
*Call your friends
*Make appointments with yourself
* Stretch your body
* Open your mind
*Listen
* Don't put anything off
*Save for retirement
* Start today!

I feel now that after these forty years on earth, I know myself better than ever. My goals and intentions are clear. My path has never been without bumps and twists, but that has been the path of my life and always will be. I crave chaos and don't feel comfortable without it. Now that I know that about myself, I am much more at peace. So, while I don't know exactly how to get there, or which mountain range I must climb in order to reach my goals, I know where I'm going to end up. I'm smarter, more confident, more filled with love than ever.

For everyone I know who recently turned 40, happy birthday. Here's to the next 40. Let's do this thing!

Ode To The Working Mom

2012-10-23T09:30:00.001-07:00

I wrote this all this morning

It's what I had to do

No one understands this plight

Except, of course, for you

Because you are the working mom

Your cross you have to bear

Pass this one to your friends

And show them that you care...

Ode To The Working Mom

My hands may be un-manicured

But the dogs are fed and walked

"Play with me, please, Mama!"

My daughter often balks

But the laundry's undone

The cat needs the vet

And many more "To Do's"

If I had 5 minutes in the morning, I (maybe) might read the news.

After a fuss, we race to the bus

I look down to see

I found us both matching outfits

Clean and static free

Yippee!!

Family, neighbors, friends

Often pitching in

So my perfect little one

Can always wear a grin

Makeup's applied at red lights

My hair is such a mess

"I have 3 inch roots!” I cry as I

Pluck pet hair from my dress

No time to eat

No-no, no time for mom

Should I wake up at 5 AM tomorrow?

I ponder my 6 AM alarm, as time; I beg, steal and borrow

I just can't stop, no time at all

I arrive at my client's home

I pop a mint, grab my bag

Oops! DON'T DROP THE GLASS iPhone!

My office is my car

Between meetings making deals

As I drive, I reach down

And slip off my too-high, high heels

My back is acting up; I really have to hit the gym

I schedule a meeting with myself

The gym says I can't come in

My identity's been stolen; they need a new credit card

I hand it over, pray it goes through

I feel like a tub of lard

I'm finally exercising

Doing something for myself

Wait! Wait! Wait! My daughter's project…

…I left it on the shelf!

I dart home to get it

I "fly" it to the school

I run into the principal

Who takes me for a fool

Home once more, I change my clothes

I have another meeting

That time I just had to myself was little more than fleeting

Now I have some cash in hand

It's time to do some shopping

Food's the only thing I ever have time to buy

It's not like I go club-hopping

HA!

TODAY ONLY! WITNESS THE BATTLE BETWEEN

DAIRY BARN AND THE SUPERMARKET

Dairy Barn wins hands down

There's no time to wait in line!

If I had just one wish

It would be for (a lot) more time

I don't need clothes, I don't need shoes

Don't need a Prada bag

"My child should want for nothing", I say

As I view my cheek in the mirror

What's that? A new sag?!

OY!

I used to be pretty, I used to be fun

"What happened?!"I ask the sky.

“If you don't do it, no one will,” says the sky in the reply

"You'll have to slave to just get by."

I try, try-try-try to show myself kindness

As I do to others

But my life, it just won't let me

Hey, I'd-be-on-a-massage-table-right-now, if I had my druthers

I dream and dream and dream in vain

One day that Universe'll hear me

Why can't my car just drive its own darn self

So I can do other things while it steers me?

Clients calling, ow, my neck, the bus is coming home

I have to make it there in time

And make it with a comb

We rush inside to brush and rush back out

So much "stuff" to do

We have to beat the clock again

Lots of errands, homework, choke-choke down the leftover stew

My friends say…

Can you believe So-And-So cheated on What’s-Her-Name? Have you heard of the tornado?”

I say, “Who? What? Where? What are you talking about? Does this even matter?"

“Oh, God. I just burned the potato!”

MAN!

Well, we have to fit it all in, somehow

We must fit everything

Perhaps when things finally calm down

I’ll catch up with current events in the spring

With so little time available, I choose my sacrifices

No TV for 3 years straight

It’s off my list of vices

Sorry, Babe but I digress; "Mo-no-po-ly at 8!"

Let's play tent and Barbies

And stay up really late

For these are the important moments

When we're looking back

I hope my child remembers, I think

As she walks on my back...hoping to hear a crack...crack...crack...

"OW! Thank you, Honey. Mommy needed that."

I love you, my child, with all my heart

One day you'll understand

That doing this is sometimes easier when you have four hands.

But this is not the path I walk

For you, I am so sorry

But with food, shelter, clothes and oodles of love

Please, honey. Don't you worry.

Mommy is all right

And you are just perfection

For you are the most important of all

No matter which direction

Life takes us on a journey

Sometimes bumpy, sometimes smooth

No matter what, you are my love

Let's giggle...and show me those new dance moves!

WHOO!

I kiss your head as we lie in bed

I read a bedtime story

You close your eyes

"We did it today," I say, in all my glory

For when you smile and sleep with peace

I feel I've done my job

There is not enough money in the world

To compensate The Working Mom

Roots

2012-08-06T19:48:00.000-07:00

It's been one year and 7 months since a vulture swooped down and virtually stole my house for $1.500,000 less than my purchase price. So much has happened since then. It's been a real whirlwind. I've moved twice already which has been hard for my daughter but she is doing extremely well right now. She has lots of friends and she has a smile on her face every day.

I made a conscious decision to slow down with work because although money is great it means nothing when compred to the delicious and endless amounts of hugs and kisses I get when I spend quality time with my little angel.
My life is in flux, my stuff is in storage, I am somehow simultaneously running two businesses and keeping it together as best I can.

If you kow me a little bit or even if you don't, you should know that I have a soft spot for living things. I dont kill insects and although I don't have the greenest thumb, when I buy a houseplant I really try to keep it alive. I consider it a lifelong comitment just like my cats who are now 15 and my dogs who range in age from 4-8. When I moved, I took very few belongings beside my clothing and among them were my straggly houseplants. One by one, they seem to be leaving me. I bet they are as sad as I am not having the beautiful home we once had. The light is different here. I had the most gorgeous Mexican Fan Palm. It's leaves spread out like a peacock when they mature. That was the first to go. A few other more non-descript plants that I had purchased for my most gorgeous and fallen home have since bitten the dust and just now at this moment I lost the last one.

That one was special. It was the first day in the house in June of 2007. I was walking around the acre and a half that was mine for what I didn't know wold be a short time. It was a magical property. Everything was bigger there; greener, more lush than seemingly anywhere else. The previous owner was a gardner and soon I would become inspired to be the same. On that first day while touring the landscape, I came across this broken, twisted piece of bamboo that was lying on the ground. It still had roots attached and looked fairly alive but it was just lying there sideways on top of the earth, looking so helpless. I thought it was a goner but I brought it in the house and gently placed it in a glass of
water.

As the subsequent days passed, the bamboo began to perk up and sprout a new leaf. The stem grew strong and hard and the color morphed into a brilliant Preying Mantis shade of green. It was happy there. I went out and purchased a glass container and took some rocks from the garden to fill this vessel which helped to stabilize the fledgling plant. The bamboo grew in my powder room for 3 years. It became more twisted, more interesting and was beginning to become the skinny tree-like specimen it was meant to be. As it flourished I gave it a larger container and added more rocks. Just then it was time to move. The new home was much darker in more ways than one and my bamboo beauty lost some leaves. Then the main branch rotted from the inside out and broke off on moving day to place #2. With this second move, all that was left was the tiniest piece but it was still hanging on. Today I went to care for it and noticed it was hanging over the side of its container, droopy in expression. I gingerly lifted it up to shift the rocks around in an effort to steady it once more and when I did, the plant was in my hand and the roots were stuck in the rocks.

It's so telling of my life right now. No roots are planted. No home to speak of. Perhaps the plant is trying to tell me that I can finally move on from that house; that it is time to find a new home and start fresh. Baggage. I don't like that word except at the airport becuase I adore traveling. But that is what comes to mind now. Baggage. One less thing to move when the time comes. Farewell, my little bamboo friend.

Lifestyle Tip: Dating After Divorce; Ask, Don’t Talk

2012-08-05T09:00:00.002-07:00

Lifestyle Tip: Dating After Divorce; Ask, Don’t Talk

Tired of being alone? Feeling like life is stagnant? Divorce got you down? Get a lot of first dates but no repeat customers? Read on and you might discover why.

Hey, I’m an open kind of a gal and I don’t harbor any secrets so I don’t mind talking about well, just about anything with someone I am meeting for the first time. However, there is one sure-fire way to kill a first date and pretty much guarantee that you will not be seeing that person ever again and that is by talking about past relationships.

Everyone seems to know this so I am not, by any means, saying something new, however few people seem to be able to help themselves. I’ve heard it over and over again. ‘He/She wouldn’t stop talking about the ex and the kids, the money, the house, oh my God. I wanted to hang myself.’

Sometimes the conversation takes a turn in the past love direction because of talks about children or a current living situation but that’s when the conversation should immediately be redirected. Because going down the verbal path of the dreaded “Ex” is like saying, “I never want to see this person sitting across from me ever again.” What happens when one person gets on a roll talking about their broken heart is that the date becomes a therapy session. That person begins talking and talking (and talking) about their marriage, what went wrong, why they hate their ex, how they’ve been wronged and then sometimes even foul language follows. The anger, frustration and years of pent up hostility spew and gush like a broken dam that started with just a crack and within minutes becomes a raging river decimating everything in its path, including your date.

The one who did most of the talking feels relieved and pretty great, so that person thinks the date went well and wants to get together again. The person on the receiving end just gave some free therapy, so why not do it again? Why not?!?! There is a reason people get paid for therapeutic work and that’s because it is work. No one wants to voluntarily sit there for hours being talked at. I don’t care how good the short ribs and margaritas are.

A first date should be about getting to know the other person. It is healthy to have an innocent curiosity about you when you arrive. Being inquisitive without being interrogative is the best approach. Ask a question then shut up and listen. Don’t comment too much. Ask more questions. Show a genuine interest in wanting to get to know the other person. If the person asks you something like, “So, why did you get a divorce?” I have one word of advice. Avoidance. Say, “Let’s save that for another time. I want to know more about you.”

If you are ready for a new relationship you will be in a healthy place about your past. If you have anger or harbor feelings of persecution then you are not ready, so take down your online profile pronto and go speak to a professional. Take that money you would have spent on your date's martinis and have a sit-down with a recommended therapist. Think only crazy people go to therapy? Think again. Ask your friends. I’m sure at least one of them can give you a good recommendation.

In order for a new relationship to be successful, you should have done the internal work needed to discover what went wrong in your previous relationship(s). You should enter something new with preparedness. You should possess the tools and knowledge which would give you the ability to avoid those mistakes you have made. So, someone’s past should be just that and it doesn’t need to be discussed….at least not until date 10.

In an effort to help men and women who are dating after divorce, I am going to make a list of words and topics that I consider taboo on a first date. These are words that should not be spoken and if you catch yourself or your date uttering any of these words or topics, redirect the path of conversation immediately, if not sooner:

Wife

Husband

Court

Custody

Maintenance (unless your own a condo or you are speaking of your grooming habits)

Alimony (they call this maintenance now so you’d be dating yourself)

Support (unless you are a supportive individual and you are speaking of the future)

Any foul language

God

Religion

Politics

Money

Work

Here are things that should be discussed:

Food

Hobbies

Interests

Goals

Dreams

Plans for the future

Vacations

Movies

Inspirations and Aspirations

Work

Now, I put work in both categories and I’ll tell you why. If you are an accountant, your date probably won’t want to hear the gory details about what you do. I have much respect for accountants because numbers elude me but adding and subtracting numbers is not all that interesting a topic of conversation so stick to more fun stuff. If you are J Lo’s accountant, please don’t mention that. Name-dropping on a first date is pretty tacky. Alternatively, if you are a helicopter pilot and work on missions rescuing polar bears or if you parachute out of planes bringing medicine and supplies to the people of the rainforest who are now homeless due to deforestation, then please, let’s talk about work. If your work is also your passion and you have a lot to say about that with interesting stories, yes, your date will be fascinated by you.

But as I previously stated, your date will go much more smoothly if you “Ask, Don’t Talk.” If you truly enjoy the company of the person you are with and they feel that you are interested in them, you just may have a lifetime to get to know them and they you.

Wishing much success to you all and happy dating.

2012-06-09T00:44:00.001-07:00

A Single Woman in Business

Boy, am I glad I got rid of all the blonde in my hair. Whew! Sure, blondes have more fun but I don't have time for fun much these days. I am all business and the need to be taken seriously in an almost completely male-dominated business is of the utmost importance to me.

Men design furniture. Men sell furniture. Men own the furniture companies and factories. They supervise, paint, upholster and slipcover. And fugghetabout when I am involved in a construction project. I'm surrounded. It's an ambush! Cover me! I'm goin' in. I love and absolutely adore men so I really don't mind, however, men don't design with women in mind. They can't. How could they? How many successful women are out there with lines of tidy whities or suit jackets? Razors or nose hair trimmers? We would never try to perfect those items. So why is it that men design things like stoves, cars, sofas and kitchen tables that can't be properly cleaned? WHYYYYYYYYY?!?!

In an attempt to remedy this situation on my end, I am taking this furniture business by the reigns and I plan on eventually developing my own line of furniture but for now, my main source of income comes from selling other people's gorgeous designs (I only sell things that I 1,000,000% have seen, touched, felt and believe in, by the way). My furniture website, www.discountdesignerfurnishings.com has been doing amazingly well and I am very blessed; so well, in fact that I am selling furniture nationwide to the masses and I need to expand into a showroom with office space. And the place I am opening up in Cold Spring Harbor, NY will be AWESOME!

75 Main St in Cold Spring Harbor is called The 1790 House. It is apparently one of the most haunted buildings on Long Island, so ghost hunters come on over!

I just opened my fourth singularly owned and operated business and I am a single mom. My accountant says in the extremely near future I will be the highest grossing sole proprietorship/client he has (with no employees and almost no overhead). This is what he says and knock on...I'm surrounded by fluffy pillows right now so there is no wood to knock on but I've never been the superstitious type. I have opened umbrellas inside the house hundreds of times. I live on the edge that way. Oh, yeah! My accountant is right. First of all I am equally talented a designer as my fancy dancy North Shore competition but secondly I am less expensive. I mean really, really less expensive. Designers typically charge retail for furniture and some even add an additional 20% on top as a finder's fee. Me? Never. I give 20%-70% off on my furniture. How do I do it? Volume!! I have been selling out of my house for 2 years now and I sell more furniture than the local stores. Word of mouth is just starting to work and my phone number is becoming a coveted secret. Some of my clients won't give my name out because they don't want their friends to know they can afford to hire an interior designer. I'm serious. This has happened to me many times.

Anywho, it's hard to be a single mom and it's hard to be a creative person and a business person all at once. I very often feel like I am 3 or 4 people throughout the day when I have to switch hats. And no, I'm not clinically insane, this is all figurative, of course. My only enemy is time. Unless Prince Charming hires me to design his living room I just may be able to dance with him at the ball. I've had to do a lot of Home Depot runs lately for clients and I do apply a fresh layer of lip gloss before entering The Big H, but everyone shopping there always seems to be married and most have very large bellies. Sorry, guys. :-)

Despite the singleness, everything else is going extremely well. My daughter is happy! She actually had me buy her a t-shirt that says, "Happy Camper" in big letters. It was a long haul after her dad and I ended our relationship but she finally understands that she has two parents who love her deeply and we work together to raise the most amazing child we can. She is turning out to be a truly wonderful person and I couldn't be more proud.

My life is incredible at times and this time, shortly before my 40th birthday, is no exception. So many exciting things are happening. My website, my showroom, my numerous offers to be on TV. It's wild! I have been approached three times in a year to have the opportunity to have my own design show. With my acting and performing experience I would be perfect for that! I don't have my own show yet but something is in the cards for me. The universe is giving me many gifts and I am graciously accepting them. The Universe is bountiful and abundant.

Speaking of bountiful, I am always working with multiple clients at one time and I am so grateful for every client that comes into my life. I cherish every project and give it my all. Some projects, as you may imagine, involve designing one room and some a whole house. I have three dogs and two cats. How do I get it all done? That's the question I am asked most often. My days are measured in seconds. I don't ever do one thing at a time. I am one of the best multi-taskers one could meet. I apply makeup in the car. I enjoy "fine dining" at local gas stations; thank goodness they now sell things like apples and hard-boiled eggs. I pay extra for full-serve so while my gas is pumping I can run in and grab something healthy to eat. I live in my car. I run places. I wear flip-flops as much as possible (not the toxic kind). I study traffic patterns and know short-cuts. I always keep floss in my purse. Haven't watched TV in 3 years. Pop culture and current events elude me but I do know where to get the coolest coffee tables! I rush through every part of my day except when it comes to my family and my clients, though things like laundry and cooking have been completely removed from the back burner. That pan was about to burst into flames. Had to be done.

Anyway, with all the running and doing, I started having heart palpitations. Then I woke up one morning three weeks ago and couldn't move my left arm. I had excruciating pain and thought I was having a heart attack. Very long story and a few specialists later, I was diagnosed with stress. My wonderful doctor told me to get a babysitter and sip some gin and tonics. What a prescription! I much prefer dirty martinis but the point was well taken. It is now day two of the new, more relaxed me and I feel so much better. I've never been much of a drinker but yesterday I enjoyed a margarita and today a glass of red wine. I breathed more and took my time with daily activities when feasible. Life should have a balance and I am seeking that right now. It is a process, for sure. Writing has always been something I really enjoy, so here I am. I am putting it out there into the universe that I will work smarter, not harder and I will find time and money to do things I enjoy. I am also tossing it out there that I will meet a wonderful person who cares for me as much as I do him.

And I will dream about that tonight. Oh, it's 3:36 AM already so tonight has passed. Client meeting at 10:30. Family party at 1. Have to get a card, pick up cat food, research furniture, optimize the new site, create two purchase orders, attend a mini-golf event. Ok, okaaaay. Got that all out. Exhale. So now I can rest peacefully and it will all get done in due time. And maybe Monday will be a manicure day.

My mind wanders...There are so many things I want to do in this life; most of which involve money, hence the working-my-butt-off (though I wish I could do that literally). I want to build a house. I want to live in California. I want to see Africa, Asia and all of the parts of Europe I have never explored. I want to see where my family is from in Scilla, Italy. I want to go to St. Barth's and sprinkle my Uncle David's ashes in the ocean there, as was his request when he passed suddenly and too soon at age 40. I want to go to Brazil, see the rainforest and then help save it. I want to swim with dolphins; rent a helicopter and rescue drowning polar bears. And my daughter should accompany me on every trip. Take it from someone who has seen a lot of the world; it's amazing, eye-opening, thrilling and everyone should have the opportunity to do it. It breeds tolerance, increases awareness, grows knowledge, wisdom and a greater sense of humanity. So important!

It's hard to be single but it's even more frustrating to not have the time to leave the house, office or client meeting to be able to meet someone. Unless Prince Charming hires me to design his living room I just may be alone forever. I've had to do a lot of Home Depot runs lately for clients and I do apply a fresh layer of lip gloss before entering The Big H, but everyone shopping there always seems to be married and most have very large bellies. Sorry, guys. :-)

My life is incredible at times and this time, shortly before my 40th birthday, is no exception. So many exciting things are happening. I have been approached three times in a year to have the opportunity to have my own design show on TV. With my acting and performing training and experience I would be perfect for that! I don't have my own show yet but something is in the cards for me. The universe is giving me many gifts and I am graciously accepting them.

In addition to my interior design business, I also have a furniture website, an Amazon store and I will have a beautiful showroom opening in July of 2012. I am always working with multiple clients at one time, some projects involve designing one room and some a whole house. I have three dogs and two cats. How do I get it all done? That's the question I am asked most often. My days are measured in seconds. I don't ever do one thing at a time. I am one of the best multi-taskers one could meet. I apply makeup in the car. I enjoy "fine dining" at local gas stations; thank goodness they now sell things like apples and hard-boiled eggs. I pay extra for full-serve so while my gas is pumping I can run in and grab something healthy to eat. I live in my car. I run places. I wear flip-flops as much as possible (not the toxic kind). I study traffic patterns and know short-cuts. I always keep floss in my purse. Haven't watched TV in 3 years. Pop culture and current events elude me but I do know where to get the coolest coffee tables! I rush through every part of my day except when it comes to my family and my clients, though things like laundry and cooking have been completely removed from the back burner. That pan was about to burst into flames. Had to be done.

I go, I do, I run. I am a woman of action. If there is something not working, I change it. I can't stand when people complain about something when there is a solution. I'm much more of a guy in that way. You have a problem? Stop yer whining already. Let's fix it!

Anyway, with all the running and doing, I started having heart palpitations. Then I woke up one morning three weeks ago and couldn't move my left arm. I had excruciating pain and thought I was having a heart attack. Very long story and a few specialists later, I was diagnosed with stress. My wonderful doctor told me to get a babysitter and sip some gin and tonics. What a prescription! I much prefer dirty martinis but the point was well taken. It is now day two of the new, more relaxed me and I feel so much better. I've never been much of a drinker but yesterday I enjoyed a margarita and today a glass of red wine. I breathed more and took my time with daily activities when feasible. Life should have a balance and I am seeking that right now. It is a process, for sure. Writing has always been something I really enjoy, so here I am. I am putting it out there into the universe that I will work smarter, not harder and I will find time and money to do things I enjoy. I am also tossing it out there that I will meet a wonderful person who cares for me as much as I do him.

Refinish Your Furniture!

2012-05-21T13:53:00.001-07:00

Repurpose, Reuse, Repaint

Whenever I buy furniture, I buy real wood; I mean the real deal. Wood.Very sturdy and manly. Say it like a caveman would say it. Wood. Haha! No made in China stuff for me over here. Why? Well, because it looks better, feels better and lasts longer, yes. But there is another reason...a much more girly reason. And I am sooo girly. Because YOU CAN CHANGE THE COLOR OF IT WHENEVER YOU WANT! New furniture for a few dollars' worth of paint.

Can't beat that!

Don't throw away good quality furniture. There is nothing wrong with his dresser below. It just looked a little tired.

BEFORE

A little paint and some new knobs and you are good to go...

AFTER

,,,and this tired old dresser is beautiful again!

Love picking out the color and hardware but don't want to do the work? Me neither. Who needs work?

This makeover was designed by me and refinished by the hands of Bob Schendorf of Huntington, NY.

www.bobschendorfwoodworking.com

This makeover is wonderful also.

Before we had a piece that is very important to the homeowner because it is a family treasure yet it didn't quite fit in with the more contemporary decor in the rest of her home.

After, we have a fresh and contemporary piece, blending in perfectly with the rest of the home.

And if you need to buy something new, check out my furniture store, www.discountdesignerfurnishings.com where you can peruse manufacturer's sites, choose what you like,

request a price quote and save hundreds to thousands of dollars.

Letter To A Landlord

2012-02-16T10:31:00.000-08:00

This content has been removed.

Harlem Dowling Letters To Santa

2011-12-07T03:27:00.000-08:00

Two women.
400 letters to Santa
Can we do it?
(scroll down)

YES WE DID!!!!!!!

On behalf of my cousin Perryn and myself, it is with great humility and even greater gratitude that we reach out to everyone who helped us perform this Christmas miracle. Each one of you who contributed has made this possible. Together, we have answered ALL of the children of Harlem Dowling's letters to Santa and made their wishes come true. Can one person can make a difference? Yes! Without each and every single one of you this would not have been possible. If one person hadn't donated, one child's wish would be left unfulfilled. The importance of knowing that everyone counts cannot be stressed enough.

More tears could not be shed, more hugs and kisses could not be given. For those of you who came here in person and saw for yourself what a few thousand toys look like in a small house, for those of you who helped us wrap, those who picked up gifts all over the place and delivered them to us, those who never met us and took a chance, those who took great care in purchasing the exact thing a child requested, those who donated their own possessions to make this happen, those who enlisted the help of friends, family and co-workers and helped us spread the word of our fledgling charity, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.
The children have received their gifts and we are as excited as they are.
Blessings to you all. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and may the most wonderful things happen to you because of your generosity. Please feel free to visit this page throughout the year and post your stories in the comment section of how your random act of kindness was
returned to you.
Please email me (Jenn) with your mailing addresses so Harlem Dowling can send each one of you a thank you and a tax deductible form for your kind donations.
jenn@redesignforadime.com
Thank you again.
With love and gratitude,
Jenn and Perryn
(close relatives of Mrs. Claus)

HOW WE GOT INVOLVED

Last year I was made aware of a charitable organization called Harlem Dowling, New York's

oldest orphanage located right here in Harlem, NY. Harlem Dowling services orphans, foster children, helps children be placed back in their homes with their parents, handles adoptions, helps at-risk youth , teens, young adults with after-school programs and so much more. I called over to Harlem last year and asked if any of the children had written letters to Santa, by chance. I had answered random letters written to Santa in the past from the NYC Post Office and doing that always brought me joy. The Post Office used to send letters in the mail upon request. Now, since 9/11, you have to go in person and pick up the letters and present ID. Last year at this time, I was working like a dog, 16 hours a day, trying to make deadlines, trying to make ends meet so I didn't have the time to go in person and the answer to my question about HD having letters was a resounding, "Yes! And they won't get answered. They are sitting on my desk in a big pile," said the director. I asked to be read one letter over the phone that I could answer. And the first letter read:

"Dear Santa,

I would like a Barbie.

Love,

6 years old"

I gasped- oh my. My daughter asks for 900 things every year for Christmas but this little girl only wants one simple Barbie. I was already at Toys R Us in my head. I asked for another letter:

"Dear Santa,

Please bring me a toy car and maybe a puzzle.

Love, B

5 years old"

My heart was breaking. I asked for another letter and another and yet another and soon I had agreed to answer every letter on that desk, 19 letters in total. I had agreed to purchase and deliver 19 Christmas gifts for these children.

But how would I answer all of the letters myself? Last year I hadn't enough money to buy my own child presents for Christmas. I couldn't let these children down so I called every friend, posted on facebook and some incredible angels came to help me perform this Christmas miracle. Not only was I able to answer the 19 letters but with support from my amazing friends and generous clients, last year I was able to buy 100 extra Christmas gifts for the Harlem children.

Nineteen letters. It felt great but then it sunk in. Harlem Dowling services over 1,100 children. I began to feel sad. I didn't do enough. So many children who had not thought to write perhaps didn't receive anything for Christmas.

This year, my cousin teamed up with me. She created a wonderful letter for the social workers to help the kids fill out so they can jot down their wishes from Santa.

I am so excited to announce that we have about 400 letters to Santa this year. I am grateful, overwhelmed and all that. So, if you want to make a child's wish come true this year, please look through the list below, contact me ASAP and let me know which gift you would like to take care of. You can choose a child in need, (just let me know so we don't have dupes!) purchase the gift yourself and ship it to me (try Amazon- FREE shipping) so I can deliver it, if you live locally (Long Island) I can pick it up or you can send me a donation and I will purchase the gift or if you would like to give a general donation I always welcome that. I will pick up as much as I can but not much time left. I just got the letters yesterday and this will take a small miracle to pull off. If you can neither give a gift nor money, please consider taking something from your wardrobe closet, pantry, attic or basement. Harlem Dowling needs clothing, winter coats (for babies through adult sizes), and FOOD! I will pick up any donations of gifts, food, winter coats or clothing that is gently used (please- I mean gently) if I can but the clock is ticking. Please respond ASAP!!!!!! And please help me perform an even greater miracle this year. Please pass this around. If you are unable to help, perhaps someone you know can. Anyone who donates will receive a letter for tax purposes. All donations are 100% tax-deductible. Please visit www.harlemdowling.org to learn more about this wonderful charity for which I am volunteering.

With much love, gratitude and joyful wishes for this coming new year.

Jennifer Scully

jenn@redesignforadime.com

516-695-9921

Hide Your TV!

2011-11-22T06:37:00.000-08:00

The last thing I want to look at in a formal living room is a television. To create a clean, calm and serene atmosphere, choose a "diversion" such as a beautiful flat screen cabinet like this one below. Or...if you have a larger budget, scroll down for something super-cool!

This TV below is a mirror when you turn it off! Watch the video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9u_ozZaJV24

I love these new mirrored TVs. I always recommend this if it's in the budget: http://www.hiddentelevision.com/discodecor.htm

Stanley Furniture

2011-11-18T18:14:00.000-08:00

Oh, how I love me some Stanley Furniture. The Avalon Collection, the newest addition, is my favorite of all. Very classic, glamorous and oh so chic. Yummy eye candy! Contact me for amazing discounts. Shipping available anywhere in the contiguous United States.

For pricing:

sales@discountdesignerfurnishings.com

For professional measuring or design services within two hours of NYC:

jenn@redesignforadime.com

Staging a Living Room

2011-11-18T17:05:00.000-08:00

This living room is cozy, contemporary, clean and appeals to the masses. It is market-ready.

Here is what it looked like before. Still a nice room but the lived-in look doesn't get top dollar.

Here's what we did to achieve the look: First off, we cleared away everything and started from scratch. We reused the sofa, chair, end table, one large artwork and lamp. We switched pillows from a den sofa to add warm color. Purchased was a cocktail table, area rug, bowl with twig balls, artificial flowers and vase. Approximately $300 was spent and we got a new room!

Letters To Santa

2011-10-03T03:09:00.000-07:00

This was written in December of 2010...

As a child, I dreamed of a room full of toys and goodies and looking back, I can say that I was always pleasantly surprised by what my mom was able to do for me even, at times, on less than a shoestring budget.

Now I have my own child and I am on a tight budget myself and yet I still managed to get what my daughter really wants; a Barbie (among some other cool toys). Don't tell her. Let's give Santa the credit this year. ;)

In the past I have been more than fortunate to have had plenty; even excess, and I have often answered letters written to Santa by under-privileged children. This year I didn't even entertain the thought because I am struggling myself but I had an emptiness in my heart, knowing that I have a roof over my head, food on the table and I am still able to find the money for some gifts for my family while there are those without who will not receive any gifts or even a proper Christmas dinner this year. I decided that while I couldn't do much, I would find a way to do something.

I couldn't make it to the post office on 33rd and 8th in Manhattan to pick up a letter to Santa so I looked to do something else. On Thursday I made a call to Harlem Dowling, a center that services over 1,000 needy children right here in NYC. I asked if any of the children had written letters to Santa and I got a resounding, "Yes." I asked how I could help and was told that I could have the letters sent to me. Well, I couldn't blindly promise to answer more than one or two letters and there wasn't enough time to wait for the mail so I asked to have a letter read to me over the phone.

It went like this, "Dear Santa, I would like a book and a puzzle. Love, Aiden, 6 years old." Well, I had to make sure that Aiden got such a simple wish fulfilled. I asked for another letter. "Dear Santa, I would like a Barbie doll. Love, Desteny." A Barbie is $5.99. I got that. I asked for more and more letters and suddenly I was taking on more than I could afford. I reached out to some friends and family who agreed to chip in with me and I was able to get 8 letters answered within an hour. I called back and asked for more letters. More volunteers asked if they could help and all specific Christmas wishes were fulfilled within 24 hours. I called back and asked what else the children needed. Clothes for the teenagers. Ah, a little difficult but Old Navy has a store near the facility in Harlem and the children would be able to use gift certificates to buy some things and after-Christmas sales are so good that $20 gift certificates would be able to be used for 2-3 items of clothing for each child. I put out the word via facebook and three more friends offered to help. We were able to purchase 25 Old Navy gift certificates. Some more donations came in and items like pajamas and robes, skateboards and games, some more Barbies and toy cars would be added to the list. 140 gifts were purchased in total and I delivered them (thank goodness for the SUV) just two days before Christmas. Phew!

The outpouring of help I received in 2010, a year when most people were struggling, was nothing short of amazing. I am going to bring Christmas gifts to Harlem Dowling again in 2011, so if anyone would like to help out and be a Santa's Helper, please contact me ASAP. Last year we were able to give 140 presents. This year I am shooting for 1,000!

Dating Horror Story #8 Chicken Soup: Good For The Soul?

2011-07-05T23:33:00.000-07:00

I was living in NYC and newly divorced. I had rented an oh-so-fabulous apartment on the East Side of Manhattan in a quiet neighborhood across from Beth Israel Hospital in the Gramercy area. I didn't have a key to Gramercy park, but it was a swanky joint, nonetheless. I still have a crush on my doorman, Herbie. He's like Derek Jeeter...if Jeeter were a doorman. He looks a lot like Derek and he's very smooth. He's got an Edge. Ha! Oh, and an aside- that time that Derek jumped into the stands to catch the ball and got hurt- he jumped into my seat, only I had left about 3 minutes before that happened. If only I had stayed, Derek would have jumped right into my lap. How things might have been different. ;)

My first night in that NY apartment, after a long, arduous move and after unpacking and setting up all of my furniture (I'm a freak like that- give me one day and I'm settled in), I laid there in bed huddled under my blanket with my two cats. We were all nervous and shaking. The sounds of the nearby ambulances blared and pierced through the thick summer-in-the-city air. The street noise from Second Avenue was absolutely unbearable, even though I had double-paned noise-reduction windows. It was a far cry from the tranquil 1.6 wooded acre property on Long Island from which I had just moved. I kept thinking my parents might have been right and I just might have made a mistake moving to the city. Maybe I'm not a city girl at all, I thought. I love nature; the quiet atmosphere and the sheer joy and harmony felt being surrounded by plant and animal life.

I felt so lonely that night I actually thanked my cats for sticking by me. Well, they didn't really have a choice but nevertheless, they were there when no one else was. My poor kitties have moved with me 7 times in the last 14 years.

In a way, I was excited to start my life over but at the same time I was desperately trying to figure out where it went wrong. My marriage had ended, my singing career was at a standstill...It was a pity party, for sure, though I was the only (human) guest in attendance.

I began dating a bit as any newly divorced woman living in The City of Eternal Bachelors would. I used to go out to restaurants by myself where I would sit at the bar and have dinner. Pathetic, you say? I say not so much. I met some really great people that way. It forces you to talk and meet people if you go out alone. It's actually fun if you allow yourself to be open. And if there's no one interesting, the bartender is always open for a good discussion.

I went on a bunch of dates and mostly (in my own predictable fashion) went out with men whom I already knew; high school friends, co-workers and colleagues. I had met this one guy through a mutual friend. He was a musician like myself and he was also really, really cute. He was actually impossibly sexy. We had made plans to have lunch though we never made it out of the apartment because after about an hour of talking we began making out and the kissing quickly became much more important than a turkey sandwich. We had a great time and had a couple more dates. I called him to confirm a date once and said, "Hi, it's Jenn." He proceeded to have a conversation with me that didn't make sense until I realized that he had mistaken me for another "Jenn" or "Jen" he must have been dating. That was the red flag. I didn't run because why, do you ask? He was one of the sexiest men I had ever met. And that's enough of a reason, okay? Good. I'm so glad we have this understanding.

He had asked me to have dinner on a Sunday night and though it was possible he thought he was asking one of the other Jenns or Jens, I accepted. A few hours before the date he called to tell me that he had come down with the flu and had to cancel and I could tell he was being sincere. I felt so bad because I knew what it was like to be in NY alone and to be so sick, so I offered to bring him some supplies to help him feel better. He was brutally sick so he quite happily accepted my generous gesture. I (gulp) offered to come over and make him homemade chicken soup from scratch. The recipe is that of my great-grandmother's and it takes 4 hours to make. I have since learned the fast 20 minute version, but I digress...I was out of my mind. I hardly knew this man! That's me, though. I always make a big effort when I can.

I really went overboard that day. I went to the best butcher and the best fruit and vegetable store in NY to obtain my ingredients. I dressed in a tight white minidress and wore white shoes to play the part of a sexy nurse. I toted a gigundo soup pot and bags full of groceries from NYC to Brooklyn...in heels. I enjoy helping people which is occasionally a problem because I tend to go above and beyond the call of duty and when you don't know me and know that I behave like this all the time, (Im a giver) you just might get scared off.

So, I went over and I made the soup. It took such a long time that he pretended to be asleep. I think he was hoping I would get the hint (I did) and leave to end this torture but I felt bad leaving him with a giant pot of half-cooked chicken wings on the stove so I saw it through to the end. When the soup was finally ready, we sat down together and ate it in an uncomfortable silence. I didn't finish mine and I abruptly got up and washed the dishes before I left. I told him I hoped he would feel better soon and I went home feeling sick, like I had done something wrong. He didn't call me the next day. I probably should have called to see how he was feeling but I thought I would leave it to him to contact me because I felt I may have blown it. A day turned to a week and I didn't hear from him so I broke down and emailed him. I asked how he was feeling and also asked when I could come and pick up my soup pot. That thing was over 200 bucks! I also mentioned that he had hurt my feelings by not calling for a week. I mean, he could have said thank you or...something. No, instead he thought I was a nut and aside from a couple of emails back and forth over the subsequent week, we never spoke again and I never got my pot back.

Looking back, I can see so many mistakes here. First of all, guys like women who play hard to get. He wasn't feeling well and cancelled. I should have left it at that. Secondly, my Florence Nightingale routine can be overwhelming even for someone who knows me well. Thirdly, I was an idiot. This guy was so ill and I intruded on his personal space for 4 hours because that's how long it took for the soup to cook. I should have dropped some Theraflu by his door and left at the most. Seven years later, (a few weeks ago) my mother gave me one of my grandmother's special soup pots. My soup is delicious and my daughter appreciates it when I make it, so I guess all is well.

Lifestyle Tips by Jennifer Scully

Curvy Girls of the World, Unite!

Mrs. Claus And Santa- Verge Of Divorce

Top Ten Questions To Ask Your Interior Designer BEFORE Hiring Them. #10 is the BEST!

Choosing The Perfect Kitchen Paint Color

Fit For a King?

My Dearest Lola

Look, Mom! I'm on TV! Home Staging Tips and Tricks

Kick-Start Your Weight Loss

Ode To My Father

My Meeting With Usher

How Well Do You Know Yourself?

Dating Horror Story #?

Turning 40

Ode To The Working Mom

Roots

Lifestyle Tip: Dating After Divorce; Ask, Don’t Talk

Refinish Your Furniture!

Letter To A Landlord

Harlem Dowling Letters To Santa

Hide Your TV!

Stanley Furniture

Staging a Living Room

Letters To Santa

Dating Horror Story #8 Chicken Soup: Good For The Soul?