Sandman

When Sandy married mom, he married the three of us. He became the missing piece to our whacky puzzle. 2 kids, a cat, a hamster that ate the curtains and a divorcée, the man said yes anyway.

Many of you know Sandy as a sweetheart of a guy, a scratch golfer and someone you would want to do business with. But for me, he was the most supportive, patient, loving and generous dad.

Last year when I moved back from Atlanta I had the opportunity to live with my parents again. Not ideal for a 33 year old woman but looking back I am extremely grateful for the time I got to spend with Sandy. Each morning I would wake up to the smell of Sandy brewing coffee and cooking breakfast for the dogs (I’m serious). I would make my way downstairs and we would usually rap about the paper, work, his golf game (mostly his putting) or business. On more than one occasion I would vent about my utter frustration with my many layoffs or relationships that went bust, wondering when I would FINALLY get it right. Sandy never judged or lectured he just believed in me and reminded me in his very pragmatic way… “It will happen for you Kate, don’t worry about it, look at me, I didn’t get my career in order until my 30’s and didn’t get married until I was 33”. If I really got him talking he would include some of his earlier career paths that involved some inappropriate “movie” investments and other odd jobs he had done prior to hitting his stride in insurance. He always calmed me down, asked me what my plan was and made me feel like I was going to land on my feet.

Sandy also had a way of making me feel incredibly special. Mom was Sandy’s best friend and teammate; I was his “girl.” And, he made sure I knew it, especially at Christmas. For several years now Sandy had been going to a jewelry store in Los Altos. He picked something out for my mom and he picked something out for me (all by himself). On Christmas Eve mom and I would sit in our jammies, glass of champagne in hand and open our gifts. It was the best feeling to know how tickled he was to see us open our gifts and how loved I felt that he took the time and effort to pick something out just for me.

A few days after Sandy had passed I found myself in downtown Los Altos walking in to the store where he shopped for us. I was walking around and I started chatting with a woman and telling her that my Dad comes in every year and I showed her the bracelet that he got me about 5 years ago. She asked who he was… I told her, and then we both started to cry. Lindsay the woman I had been talking to had been the saleswoman that had been working with Sandy for the last several years. She looked at me somewhat amazed and said “Kate, I’ve never met you, but looking at you he totally got you, he said you were kind of sporty a little bit of a tom boy and not real frilly.” He was absolutely right. I went on to say to her, “ya know, I don’t even remember when he came into my life b/c he has always been there.” Lindsay looked at me with a sense of disbelief and a little confusion and said, “I didn’t know he wasn’t your “natural” father. I felt very proud and full of love.

Sandman was the kind of guy every girl should be lucky enough to have as a dad and every woman should aspire to marry.

I'm Awkward....

It's been established that I have been dating for 17 years. With dating comes sex... with sex comes responsibility. I kind of feel like Spiderman!

I have been on and off birth control for the last 14 years. I went on it initially to regulate periods and help with headaches and because when I went off to college my mom suggested that I might meet someone I would want to have sex with. I believe her words were "Well, what if you meet Robert Redford or something?" I of course was horrified having just finished 4 years of Catholic school and was still a virgin. I did meet a guy; he was not Robert Redford… not even close.

After years of popping “the pill” decided to stop taking it because I was concerned it would affect my ability to reproduce later in life. I read the stories in Cosmo, I worry, I am not entirely sure what long term use of birth control can do to me in fact I don’t think anyone does. Knowing I want kids, I am a little paranoid. About six months ago I decided to go back on for two very good reasons: 1) I get incredible headaches every month due to hormones and the birth control I take helps with all the super fun things that come along with PMS 2) I decided it might be possible for me to ACTUALLY have the sex again after my last traumatic "I will never date or be vulnerable again" break up.

So here I am 33, and dating. I have met someone that I consider as a long term "potential," meaning I don't knock it out with everyone I meet. Because I enjoy the sex but don't want to get pregnant unless I am with "the right guy" I do what I can to make sure I will not be one of those girls that "ooopsy,' gets knocked up. Even with my responsible notions the actual act of buying condoms is freakin awkward for a girl.

*Sex education didn't quite cover the art of buying condoms without feeling like you are being judged.

Today I went to pick up my birth control and Walgreen’s and realized I was fresh out of condoms. Some people may think it's the guy’s job. But, if I want sex, and I don't have condoms, I'm not having sex. Because I am in my sexual prime, why would I take the risk of the possibility that my current suitor may not be prepared with party hats?

Picking up birth control is no big deal. I mean, most women have been on some sort of hormone therapy since the age of 16. For my generation it doesn't mean "ooh, single girl DOING IT OUT OF WEDLOCK" unlike generations before me.

To cover up my discomfort in picking up condoms I try to mask my purchase by me throwing in chips, some hair gel, maybe a lipgloss. Tonight I couldn't do it. I didn't have anything I could fake needing and I wasn't in the mood for a snack. So, I grabbed some condoms, quickly, only briefly reading what type I should buy. I saw "for her pleasure" and thought, damn, that's me. Then, I saw lubricant. I've never needed this personally but long time friends have raved about how awesome it is. I thought, "Ok, which one?" I didn't want to be caught reading the directions, indications, and the thought of something warming up on my girly bits disturbs me slightly. So, I went for the only one I have heard of ASTRO GLIDE.

I went to the register, asked for my birth control "Pick up for, Newby, Kate," handed over my condoms and lube, smiled with flushed cheeks knowing the bearded lady behind the counter was judging me. I felt like I had a sign above my head saying "SEX ON AISLE 7. In all of my awkward discomfort I managed to pay, grab my bag, shove it in my purse, turn on a heel and bolt for the door.

I believe

I believe in ice cream for breakfast and breakfast for dinner

I don’t believe in chain emails

I believe in fairies because if I don’t one will die

I don’t believe in love at first sight

I believe that sex on the first date is generally a bad idea but it happens

I believe in Déjà Vu

I believe everything happens for a reason (I have to after multiple break ups and layoffs)

I don’t believe in Santa Claus anymore but I think all children should

I believe that Thanksgiving is a far more enjoyable holiday than Christmas, in fact I actually prefer Halloween to all notable holidays

I don’t believe anyone should ever light the pilot light in there gas oven after a few beers (believe me, I know)

I believe the Sweet Potato is underrated on the West Coast

I believe if you start your day with uncomfortable socks it’s a prelude to a bad day

I believe in following your gut even if you don’t like the outcome

I don’t believe I should pay $4.00 for coffee or gas but they are both necessary (for me)

I believe in God, if I didn’t I would have to admit that I am a crazy person talking to dead air

I believe Easter is an opportune time for me to purchase Cadbury Cream Eggs and Peeps Marshmallow candy

I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions

I believe in rescues everyone should rescue a dog or cat at some point (unless they are allergic)

I don’t believe that just because you have an opinion you are at liberty to share it (though I personally struggle with this)

I believe in Karma

I believe the beer koozie is genius more people should embrace them

I don’t believe in Bud Light, because the Silver Bullet never lets me down

I do believe that you should always have a bottle of chilled champagne on hand

I believe that honesty is the best policy even when it hurts

I believe that lightening bugs are magic

I don’t believe you should ever compromise what you really really want but I think most people do

I believe that everything is better with cheese

I believe in the power of positive thinking but it is easier said that done

I believe that your oldest friends and family are the best people to keep you humble

I don’t believe in shots of tequila or shots in general

I do believe in a glass of wine shared with a good friend after a hard day, week, month, year

I don’t believe in low-rise pants, people are tired of seeing my butt crack

I believe in Mission Based Shopping, but I could spend hours in the grocery store

I believe every woman is allowed to feel like a princess

I don’t believe in the Fairy Tale but I believe in Happy Endings

I'm going to be 40

Recently my friend noted "I'm going to be 50 in 4.5 years." I started laughing because it reminded me of the movie "When Harry Met Sally."


Sally: ...All this time I've been saying that he didn't want to get married. But the truth is, he didn't want to marry me. He didn't love me.

Harry: If you could take him back right now, would you?

Sally: No, but why didn't he want to marry me? What's wrong with me?

Harry: Nothing.

Sally: I'm difficult.

Harry: You're challenging.

Sally: I'm too structured; I'm completely closed off.

Harry: But in a good way.

Sally: No, no, no, I drove him away. And I'm going to be forty!

Harry: When?

Sally: Someday!

Harry: In eight years.

Folks, I've been dating for roughly the last 17 years. I'll admit, that seeing the number "17" attached to dating career hurts a a lil bit. In the last 17 years I have not met Mr. Right, sure I thought I did at least 3 times. But, I was dead ass wrong about how "Right" they were.

When you have been dating for 17 years and have not met your "person" you can occasionally doubt yourself much like Sally did in the movie. What is it about ME? Am I too opinionated, picky, obsessive compulsive, wacky? Or, am I just someone who hasn't crossed paths with my person yet. Or, is it that I, on some cosmic way had to get right with myself before the right person could come along and I could truly appreciate them and vice versa?

After 17 years of dating I can pretty much say that almost every single man I have dated is engaged, married and has children.

Like Sally, over the years as I found out about each engagement and marriage I considered, "did they just not want to marry me?" But, per Harry's question "If you could take him back right now, would you?" Let’s take a look, shall we?

Do I want to live out my years with:

Emotionally unavailable, predictable Accountant - NO

Super needy, super jealous, super downer Archaeology Grad Student - NO

Self Centered, desperate, Mr. "I'm gonna" do (insert grand plan here) Art Director - NO

Homophobic, racist, selfish pilot with no sex drive - NO

Just like Sally, I will be 40... in 7 years. I'm confident that after 17 years of Mr. Wrong's that Mr. Right is closer than I think.

ARE YOU SHIT'N ME?!

A couple of years ago I was sitting at a bar with two of my girlfriends, we had just gone to an event at the High Museum of Art in Atlanta and I had had a few glasses of wine and a couple of Manhattan's. Needless to say I was tossed. I started to prattle on about my then relationship (I was about 6 months into it). I started to divulge that; well… our sex life was... how do you say... LACKING. Usually, and I have found this from personal experience that in the first 6 months a new couple is "doin it" a LOT. Most, new couples are trying to figure out ways to get more of each other. We were not. I thought for sure, it was me. Perhaps I had put on the usual new relationship poundage, ya know, you eat out more, drink more and did I say MAKE OUT MORE. Ok, so we weren't doing that either.

As I relayed this hot tip about my non existent sex life to my two closest girlfriends, they looked at me in horror. I was drunk enough to dismiss it and sober enough to make up a barrage of excuses (he's tired, stressed, on the road, he has a lot on his plate).

Fast forward 1.5 years...

After spending plenty of time begging for sex (literally), asking Mr. Anti Sex to go to the doctor to find out if something was wrong with him, after standing buck ass naked in the hallway and having Prince Charming walk by and head to the computer, after crying to myself trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with ME, after we had spent a night out at a Christmas party and I was feeling particularly frisky and instead of jumping my bones he handed me his pants and turned on the TV (no kidding) I was at a loss. I convinced myself that sex wasn't everything and love is all that mattered. I promised him I would not leave him for this "minor" flaw. I stood by MY MAN. In the interim I became more miserable, found comfort at the bottom of a tub of Ben & Jerry's and lied my ass off to friends and family about how FUCKING happy I was and how he was "the one."

About a year ago we parted ways, abruptly after he decided that he didn't think he ever wanted children or to be married, clearly a fundamental difference, which he failed to mention 2 years prior. Lets be honest, things were strained, I couldn't go another month sans sex (7 months was long enough). At that point, misery was indeed my only company.

Recently I found out that he is engaged to be married. My gut reaction...

"ARE YOU SHIT'N ME, I THOUGHT HE WAS GAY!"

Local News

My mom is notorious in my life for clipping local magazine or newspaper articles for me, generally about people that I knew during my childhood that have achieved great success career wise, recently been engaged, had a lavish wedding or recently announced the arrival of a baby to the family. Being single, I REALLY appreciate how she keeps me appraised of the goings on of people I have not spoken to since the age of 9. I had always wondered what kind of wedding my old neighbor was going to have. Fortunately my mother had the most recent copy of "GENTRY " magazine splayed out (3 page spread) for me when I arrived home last night. Good looking group of people, large bridal party, bridesmaid dresses were decent, the event looked PRETTY fancy, after all the wedding did take place at " The Lodge at Pebble Beach."

Of course I say this a little tongue and cheek. There is nothing more in this world that mother would like as to see me settled with the right fella. Hells bells, ME TOO. I assure you, when I find the right guy my mom will find a way to (at the very least) get a mug shot of me and Prince Charming in the "Los Altos Town Crier" which will include all the appropriate stats (where we are from, how we met, what we do for a living, etc.) I can't wait!

MY POINT:
My point today is to celebrate my mother's habit/hobby of clipping, sending, hi-lighting articles that she feels apply to me. Today, she found a good one. When I arrived home from work today found a pulled portion of the San Francisco Chronicle at my door. It just said "KT" with a long red arrow pointing to a short blurb. The blurb came from a column written about overheard conversations of people who had been talking about relationships. This particular article made me laugh out loud because I feel like the words were pulled directly from my mouth. For all of the times I dramatically shouted or sobbed "you don't understand me" to my mom growing up, I must admit she is very in tune with where I am and how I currently feel about dating today.

"I'm so tired of dating people who don't have decent jobs or career goals or lives, or can put themselves together or even have their own car. From now on, I'm only going out with people who have the 'tions: compensation, transportation, motivation, ambition, attraction." (San Francisco Chronicle: Woman to man, overheard by Tim Wu).


Thanks MOM!