Just finished paying bills.  There are always too many, but now there are even more from our health care providers.  Along with the usual sports physicals, school vaccine requirements, a couple of strep cultures and other routine things, we had a few more health care expenses this year.  Nothing serious, just stuff.  Nevertheless, in the short time since The Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act was signed into law, there are already signs “affordable care” may have hidden costs.

In the two years, since it’s passage, I’ve lost two gynecologists.  Both were Canadians who had come to The United States, because they wanted to practice medicine without the inevitable restrictions of socialized medicine. With our system due to be radically changed, both made the decision to return to Canada.  Once again, I would be looking for an ideal doctor within the confines of a health care plan.

In addition to the usual co-pays, our pediatric group started imposing a “surcharge” for office visits.  Not long after, our famly’s pediatrician announced he would retire–early.  At least I still had my long-trusted primary care physician, which was good because I had developed a minor skin irritation around my eyes.  When it didn’t go away, I made an appointment with a dermatologist, I’d seen previously.

When I arrived at the office, they apologetically informed me they had pulled out of our medical group.  The doctor explained, they could no longer afford to absorb costs for services reimbursed, at a rate less than what they cost to provide.  With new restrictions soon to be enacted, he decided it was no longer worth the trouble or the expense.  They were no going to focus their practice on services paid directly by consumers–elective procedures like tattoo removals and cosmetic procedures.

How heartless, to deny care over money.  Many believe it’s about time, doctors stopped being allowed to make obscene profits, at our expense. I had tremendous respect for this doctor, but that day my respect for  him was increased.  By cutting ties to the medical group(s) and their overseers, this doctor had reclaimed his right to practice medicine his own way.  Medicine is a science, the practice of medicine is an inexact science, fraught with risks.  It’s like life & death algebra, requiring its practitioners to solve for unknowns, with little room for errors.  Doctors can’t practice good medicine, if their decisions are controlled by people less knowledgeable.  Good doctors are as deserving of pay, as anyone else with specialized skills.

I would  have preferred that my insurer would pick up my tab, I agreed to pay the fee for the visit.  After the  examination, my doc explained there was something that would likely eliminate the problem, but it was costly and not covered by my insurance.  He prescribed an affordable alternative–a common steroid cream.  It helped, but the condition would return as soon as I stopped applying it.

One tube of ointment later, I returned to my trusted family doctor. Though the steroid cream alleviated the symptoms, it had done nothing to eliminate the underlying condition.  In fact, the problem had worsened and spread.  He suggested cold showers, no soap.  Cold showers?  Perhaps he thought I said “sin” problems, instead of “skin” problems.  No tests, no prescription, no help.  This didn’t seem like the doctor I’d become accustomed to seeing.  I left wondering if the cost of justifying treatment had become too onerous for my previously proactive physician.

I left his office with skin that looked as awful as it felt, and a referral to a new dermatologist, who didn’t have an opening for more than three months.  By now, wearing makeup would have been about as effective as trying to spit-shine tree bark, so I threw out all my make-up.  It was going to be a long three months.

In the meantime, a family member who used to run a vitamin store suggested adding flax oil to my diet.  Another swore by the therapeutic benefits of Argan oil.  I bathed in oatmeal. I bathed in seaweed.  I soaked in oil.  I  used hydrocortisone cream and salycilic acid to control the itching.  I trekked to the beauty emporium, Sephora, searching for any kind of restorative moisturizer.  Nothing helped.  By now, the condition had spread and progressed to the point my eyelids were often cracked & bleeding.

Then came a stye.  For those who have never experienced this, it is a dreadful condition consisting of equal parts pain and ugly.  The first stye, was followed by a another about ten days later, the swelling of which caused me to resemble a prize fighter.  I returned to my primary care physician, who sent me home with instructions to try warm compresses.  Though this the commonly recommended treatment for styes, it’s not a very good one, so when the third stye appeared, I pleaded with my doctor to dispense something more effective than old-world advice.  At the onset of the stye number four, I no longer cared what my insurance would cover.  I made an appointment with an eye specialist.  I was ready to pay whatever it cost to get relief.

I asked this doctor, if she thought there was any possibility the broken skin on my eyelids was making me prone to recurrent eye infections.  She laughed as if that were the most improbable and ridiculous thing she’d every heard.  Obviously, I was stupid for even throwing it out there.  Nevertheless, she began grilling me about what I’d tried on my skin.  I began listing all the things I’d tried.  She was clearly irritated as she reminded me I didn’t have the expertise to be treating myself–something I was well aware of.  She scolded me for using over-the-counter products, and told me I should leave the treatments to real doctors.  I tried in vain to explain my motivation was despair, not arrogance.  When I realized she had stopped listening to me, my frustration turned to tears.

She had examined me, but she clearly didn’t have any idea what she was seeing.  I on the other hand, recognized her condition immediately.   It was easy to diagnose her as suffering from the vanity that afflicts some graduates of medical school.  She gave me a prescription for an antibiotic and told me to come back in a couple of weeks, but I won’t be going back.  I don’t have much confidence in a physician who doesn’t recognize the helplessness a patient feels when the medical system can’t or won’t help them.

I am still waiting for the appointment with the new dermatologist, giving me time to reflect on all of this.  Looking back, I realize what I spent on co-pays and out-of pocket doctor’s visits, would have been generous compensation for an office visit with a doctor of my choosing, and what I’ve spent on things that didn’t help would have surely have paid for something that would have.  I would have been better off, if I’d relied on the expertise of the first doctor and paid for the medicine he would have liked to prescribe.  My my time & money would have both been better spent, if I had chosen how to spend them.

Our medical system is in a troubled state.  We are all affected by the rising cost of health care, but there isn’t any way to get around what should be obvious–somebody has to pay the bill.  Those who believe we can continue to get quality care without being charged for it, risk pain and suffering as they come to terms with the new reality.  We are yet to fully realize how the implementation of our our new health care system will impact us, but one thing is certain, the untold costs of affordable health care will be paid by us, not our government.  I hope we can afford the cost of affordable health care.

Less than a century ago, women in The United States hadn’t yet been granted the right to vote.  Though it was allowed in some states, it wasn’t until 1920, when the constitution was amended, that women were guaranteed this right.  Without the ability to voice their viewpoints via the voting booth, perhaps our country would be different today.  I shudder to think of the improbable possibilities for laws [bad] men might have tried to pass.  Would there be a Barefoot & Pregnant mandate?  A Mall Prohibition Act?  Failure to Chill Beer ordinance? Tax deductions for men who wished to claim both their wife and mistress as dependents?

Fortunately, women have made amazing strides and this  country is one of the better places in the world to be female.  Despite this, women still struggle, because there are some things even progress can’t change.  It is possible to update our wardrobes, refurbish our furniture, restore old cars, or remodel old homes, but men are always AS-IS.

Which is why, while most of us like having a man in our lives, finding one that doesn’t make us crazy or worse, can be near impossible.  Lest people mistake this for a diatribe from a man-hater, I wish to assure readers that I am a BIG fan of men.  Women are almost always more and better company, but I still find the company of men irresistible.  I especially like them, because they are different than women, but the more manly they are, the stronger the urge to change them.  It’s like this:

I want a man who works hard enough to sweat, but I’d prefer not smell the sweat.
I want a man who knows how to use a gun if he needs to, but dislike men who need to remind others they know how to use a gun.
I want a man who can and will fight, but not a man who wants to fight.
I want a man who shows skill in the bedroom, but I’d be really turned on, if he were as eager to show off his kitchen skills.
I would like it if my man looked like one of those attractive gay models, but if I were to find out he was gay, I doubt I’d still find him attractive.

Men think women are hard to please, but it’s actually quite simple.  We want manly men, who are sensitive, soft, gentle, and sweet, like women.

Women like me, have succeeded in confusing men.  Are they supposed to be he-men or metrosexuals?  Are they supposed to open doors for us, or just leave us a key?  It’s all about balance, as we struggle to eliminate the confusion over who wears the pants and who wears the panties.

Blame feminism, because as women gained more equality in the workplace, they sought more at home.  Women were changing, and in the process they were inadvertently changing men.   This made me wonder if more powerful women, meant less powerful men.  Was the Great American male becoming an endangered species, teetering on extinction after having been emasculated by well-meaning feminists?  Had The Great American man become as frail as the California Coastal Sand Gnat, struggling to survive in the face of environmental change?

Women would love it if men were more like girlfriends, sharing their enthusiasm for things like cashmere and Italian shoes.  If we had our way, men would learn to enjoy long meandering conversations and realize the joy of shopping, but while there have always been women who wanted men who were as easily controlled as children, the majority of us still want a man with a nicely defined backbone.  There are men who enjoy shopping or grooming as much as women, but most men are simply not interested, because despite everything, they are still men.

Nevertheless, the metrosexual is often exhibited as evidence that men are becoming feminized.   I’m not buying it.  It’s just the latest incarnation of “The Sharp Dressed Man.” It’s not like men don’t care about their image, but image is different things to different men.  For some image is grooming, for others it may be a car, a fat paycheck or a perfectly manicured lawn.  The term metrosexual may be new, but his type is not.  A hundred years ago, a man who embraced fashion and a refined lifestyle, would have been called a dandy.

Some argue that feminism has diminished our respect or the strength of American men.  Many point to the examples of television fathers–like the difference between Ozzie Nelson and Ozzie Osbourne as evidence, that our view of men has been diminished.  The  media often portrays men as bumbling incompetents, relying on women to guide them, but this is nothing new.  Literature is full of hapless henpecked husbands.  Even during The Golden Age of Radio and early television men were often the brunt of jokes.  It makes for good comedy, and men are surprisingly good sports about jokes made at their expense.  Make fun of a woman, and you’ll likely regret it, but men are easy targets.

Why?
Because in the war between the sexes, there is no cease-fire.  Women will fight for every hill, to make sure that their wisdom, competence and superior taste in almost everything is acknowledged, but men will easily surrender or  declare victory, if they get respect, appreciation and regular demonstrations of affection–AKA sex.

Feminism changed sex and the economy of sex, because it enabled women to move between supply side and demand side.  Women now had demands and were controlling the supply through a kind of rationing and price-fixing.  As the supply began to change, men sought new suppliers, and there were always more suppliers.  Promiscuity became common and porn became mainstream.  Wives no longer held the monopoly on sex, and men were suddenly contenting themselves with the kind of cheap, easy, readily available women they’d previously disdained.  The one woman one man ideal was outmoded, as men began sharing their pulp princesses with countless other men, and women found  themselves competing with mens’ make-believe mistresses.

It simplified things for men, as they no longer needed to please a woman emotionally or sexually just to get a little, but it was hardly the brave new world.  Pleasure-seeking and erotica have always existed, and it isn’t as if internet porn destroyed the sexual utopia that existed before feminism.  Marriage took some hits,  and intimate sex between people who loved each other fell victim to friendly fire, making some wonder if sex within marriage or would soon be obsolete.  Doubtful, as long is there is one person alive who remembers that the solo, is nothing compared to the duet.

Men still need women, and women still need men.  Feminism changed our world, but it has yet to change men into women or women into men.  The war between the sexes continues, because some things never change, even in the face of progress.

At the bank, a woman walked past me.  Correction, a man walked past me, wait, no I think it was a woman.  On closer inspection, I’m no longer sure. It was one of those moments, when my brain was scrambling to process the input it was receiving.  The visual input was so confusing, that my brain and I could not decipher it.

This individual was dressed in rugged jeans and a tunic-length sweater, coiffed with a modernized Mohawk, grown long and swooping over one side of a shaved head, providing one of those come hither curls which seductively obscures one eye.  The body was lithe and feminine, the face whiskered, his or her fine leather handbag? man purse? was the epitome of good taste rendered from top-grain leather.

I wasn’t sure if I was seeing a woman who was embracing manhood, or a man who had turned his back on it.  He or she seemed to be hovering in the nether-land between the gender they were born and the one they preferred.  Gender stuff isn’t always so confusing, but even among those who have settled comfortably into a traditional role, it sometimes is.  For most of my life, the roles of the sexes have been evolving..  The movement to expand opportunities for women, has caused the roles of both genders to become more elastic.    Women are now able to compete with men in most every field, and men are no longer diminished by choosing careers once held only by women.

Only a few decades ago, home was the “proper” place for women and difficult situations had to wait until father came home.  Back then jobs that were dangerous, outdoors or dirty were mostly considered to be “men’s work” and self-respecting chauvinists would sooner change jobs than work for a woman.

Feminism was about redefining women, but in the process, it also served to redefine the role of males.  As women become more used to calling the shots in the workplace, they wanted more control at home.  The traditional roles of men and women were becoming more alike. In an effort to equalize apples and oranges, apples were required to develop thicker skins and more fiber, while experiments were conducted to see if oranges could be turned into applesauce.

That’s my take, but in fact, there are currently some who wish to eliminate gender classification completely.  They suggest gender is too limiting, because we all possess a combination of male and female traits, with some leaning more heavily one way or the other.  That makes sense, after there are all kinds of  women and men.   According to this reasoning, we all fall somewhere on a broad continuum between male and female.  I’d probably be classified as a female with male traits–or what we used to we used to call “tomboy” because somewhere between girls who live to crochet tea cozies and female bounty hunters are plenty of feminine women who aren’t intimidated by auto-mechanics or power tools.

Another popular notion that it is our society, not our biology which causes us to be masculinized or feminized.  I read recently of two families who have refused to disclose their child’s gender, so that the children could be  self-defining.  Another group says more gender classifications are needed because male and female are too limiting.  Ironically, these labels make no allowances for the transgendered, because it is assumed they will choose one of the two existing labels.

In the ongoing war between the sexes, it’s impossible to know who is winning.  Sun Tzu’s art of war suggests we must know our enemy, but is the enemy still the enemy when they begin switching sides?  The next edition of de blog will be devoted to the current condition of the endangered American male.  Stay tuned.

The New Year’s celebration is one of my favorites.  Though my own celebration of New Year’s eve is minimal, I am very fond of this holiday which starts loudly in one year and winds down quietly in the next. It isn’t a religious or memorial holiday, yet it has a thoughtful profundity and an illogical optimism.  Like Fat Tuesday, it is a day when we absurdly indulge in things we hope to give up.   It is a  mile-post on life’s  journey, a point at which to assess how far we’ve come and speculate about what lies ahead.

Then first newspaper of the New Year is my favorite.  It usually features the best and worst of the previous year– including reminders of all the famous people who died.  It often features predictions for the coming year and an abundance of ads for stuff to help us keep our resolutions, like work-out equipment and organizers.  Perhaps there are folks who wake up the morning after drinking too much champagne, raring to buy a treadmill, the latest pair of New Balance, storage bins or shelf units, but I suspect most are more like me, who wake up thinking about stuff like mimosas and Eggs Benedict.

Regrettably, most of us meander through life with little thought of how our time is passing, but like birthdays, anniversaries, illnesses and deaths, each New Year provides another measure of how quickly our lives pass.  It is a  valuable reminder not to squander what will be gone too quickly, whether it be our vitality or our time with those around us.

We need those benchmarks.  There was a public figure the same age as I, whenever that person accomplished something newsworthy, it reminded me of how much a single individual can accomplish, but more importantly it reminded me of how little I had accomplished.  That person died a few years ago, and now serves only to remind me  how suddenly life can end.

However, like those times when it isn’t feasible to remodel so we settle for new paint or new curtains, sometimes overhauling our entire life isn’t practical.  Though there are many things I’d like to completely redo in my life, I content myself with making small changes I can manage, like setting the tone for the one to come.

Started the year with a new manicure and pedicure.  Nothing unusual about that, except since I tend to choose the same polish, month after month, I let my mani-pedi girl pick for me.   I would have never have chosen what she chose for me, as a result, I left her shop feeling like I was wearing someone elses’ fashion.  Two colors of glitter polish, may not sound that radical, but to me it was symbolic of being open to the whims and advice of others–especially those with more experience.

Though I am a naturally lucky person, I rarely gamble.  It seems gambling is a pastime which makes more losers than winners.  Nevertheless, I bought a lottery ticket.  Had it been a winning ticket, I could have told myself it was a fortuitous omen for the coming year, but since it served only to make my pocket lighter, I discarded it along with the many other disappointments of 2011.

I bought myself a new coffee maker, a sort of Christmas gift to myself, but in keeping with the “out with the old and in with the new” thing, I waited until Jan, to try it. Trying to figure out how to disassemble and reassemble it, the first time, could almost fill another blog post, but this first challenge of The New Year, was a good reminder of how important it is to be open to change and ready to learn new ways of doing familiar things.

As I drank my coffee, I reflected on the past year, a Christmas season in which I gave myself a vacation from the expectations of others and allowed myself to do things to restore my sense of self.  I replayed events in a year, including many dealings with tradesmen and tenants.  Reflecting on those experiences inspired me to make a single resolution.

Having been often taken advantage of by those to whom I was too nice, I resolved to be meaner.  Not more assertive, not more aggressive, just less nice.  I don’t like mean people and certainly don’t want to become one, but  people take advantage of nice people.  I can’t help being kind, it’s in my nature, but after having too many experiences in which I felt I shouldn’t have been so nice, I decided to try harder to be mean.  Chances are I’ll fail, but I’m guessing I won’t be the only one who doesn’t keep their resolutions.

Time-saving tips.  I wish I had a minute for every time I’ve seen that phrase on the cover of a magazine.  In fact, I’d be happy just to reclaim the time spent reading things written on how to save time, because saving time isn’t like saving other things.  If you save something tangible like rubber bands or butter containers, eventually you’ll end up with more than you can ever use, but try to save time all year long and come the holidays, you’ll still won’t have any leftover.

Every holiday as I try to have a perfect holiday mindset despite having too much to do, I wonder if this is how Santa feels.  Does he worry that maybe Mrs. Santa won’t like her present or does he just sit back while the elves feel the pressure?   All I want is enough time to be able to relax and enjoy the season, instead feeling like the holidays is just a series of December deadlines.

Because of this I’ve given up some of the things that used to be the preamble to Christmas.  I gave up sending Christmas cards, because it was too time-consuming to write every friend a personalized note and an inefficient waste of  wood pulp & postage, to send cards with only a signature.  I have also given up mall-shopping.  Whereas, shopping used to find me wandering in retail wilderness like one on a vision quest, spending until everyone was crossed off the list, I now rely on the internet to deliver the perfect item for each person, while I stay home.  The old me would have still been shopping on December 23, but the new me is already putting the presents under the tree.

If  you are still looking for some last minute gifts, here are some of my picks.  You’re running out of time, but fortunately many online retailers are will still guarantee delivery by Christmas.

For the iPad and Kindle users, Novel Jackets are mock book covers designed to protect your iPad or Kindle and available in more than a dozen title designs to suit your tastes.  $39-49.   Available from Herrington.

Got a wine lover on your list?  These stainless steel bottles are ready to go on a picnic, to the slopes, or any where carrying a glass bottle  isn’t practical.   Trekker Wine Carafes available from Sahalie.

For the girl who has everything, but doesn’t want it all showing, the Hip-T is simple, but brilliant.  This is the perfect little stop-gap for that space between the low-rise jeans and a baby doll t-shirt, eliminating bum cleavage and muffin top.  Available in many various colors and patterns, priced at around $20.  from My Hip-T

From budget to spendy, Smoking Hookah offers many unique backgammon sets, like this one inlaid with exotic woods.

With so many fabulous  items a click away, it’s easier than ever to find the perfect gift for everyone on your list.

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No matter where it came from, sometime after college where your degree came from may be largely irrelevant, and no matter what it cost, there may be times it holds no value.    Whenever someone asks me where I was educated, I’d like to say boiler rooms, bars, cheap motels, jails*, and the inner city.  Instead, I politely name the university I attended.

Recently, I had a conversation with a medical specialist.  We were discussing the merits of old doctors vs. new doctors.  On the one hand is the young doctor freshly educated, well-versed in the  newest techniques and the latest findings, everything he’s learned is still at the front of his brain.   On the other  hand is the older practitioner, who has probably forgotten many of the things he’s learned, and may still be employing practices now considered obsolete, but his arsenal of tools includes the years of experience  which add up to more than all he learned in med school.  He knows much more than the most competent of his younger colleagues.

The very best doctors I’ve known fall mostly in that first category, but those who fall between newly hired and soon retired often represent the best of both worlds, because expertise and knowledge are gained two ways.  Not just in fields like medicine, but in all aspects of life there are two methods by which we are educated:
A. Learn stuff
B. Do stuff

As I watch what’s happening in our country, I worry about education, our economy and the future.   I also fear for those who would occupy Main Street, as one day they will be the middle-aged and/or the middle class.  Many of these young college-educated visionaries are frustrated over not being able to find good jobs.  I understand their frustrations, because I’ve been there.  After college, I often found the only jobs available, were those for which I was over-qualified and/or underpaid.  At those times, the value of a paycheck, always trumped the value of a college degree.

As a result, my own job history is one that doesn’t reflect my skills or aspirations.  In fact, based on my  resume, it’s a wonder anyone would hire me.  Over the years, I’ve worked here and there, doing this or that.  I took some jobs because they were available when nothing else was.  I’ve done all kinds of things, from cleaning toilets to telemarketing, from working in pubs to public radio, from being a producer of illustrations to being the shop-girl who framed them.  From offices to strip malls to shipyards, I’ve worked in places ranging from the gritty inner city and the hipper Silicon Valley.

I was under-qualified for some of the positions I’ve held, but over-qualified for most of them.  Nevertheless, I learned more about being a competitive, as a waitress, as I did in college. I learned more about people through involvement with charities, than a four-year degree in sociology or psychology than a degree would have taught me. I learned more about business by watching the successes and failures of others, than Management 101 could have taught me.  Through individuals and experiences, I have gained an unconventional, but extensive education.

The occupiers are convinced they have no future, unless they can make the rest of us atone for the  mistakes they believe we’ve made.  Most of them are too young to remember, when some of those who now occupy the jobs on
Wall Street, occupied Woodstock.  I too was once like them, full of ideas about what my future would look like. My vision didn’t include moving into California during a dismal recession or ending up in towns with very few employment opportunities.

If only those of us who remember what it was like to be inexperienced and full of untested ideas, would join their encampments.  We could stand on milk crates and share the things we’ve learned, but there would be no point.  They wouldn’t listen, because they believe everything they need to know they learned at university. Many of of them have yet to realize the most valuable education is gained outside the classroom. If they really want to do something to change things, they need to get out and DO the things that will change things–at which time they will know the difference between the right to a job and the right to succeed.   Though the ideas taught in a classroom are important, it is only when those ideas are tested that we become educated.

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*I have never been in jail, but I have spent time in jails with those who were.

‘Tis the season, the season which ushers in that other season…

There are two times of the year, when invitations are too plentiful.  The first occurs between spring and summer when end-of-the year recitals, picnics, and awards banquets are followed by graduations, weddings, BBQ’s and usually a baby shower or two.   The second is the season beginning in fall, and lasting through the last pretzel of the Superbowl–guaranteeing that the already-too-busy holiday season will be even busier.

Parties are fun–at least they are supposed to be.  Unfortunately, they aren’t all fun, and even when they are, not everyone enjoys them.   There are those who live for the next party and those who dread them all.  Most of us are somewhere in between, but even the most sociable can find it challenging to enjoy a party.

The invitations we receive are supposed to be optional, but many come with obligations or implications, which cause us to attend things we’d rather skip.  As a result, we may find ourselves wearing clothes we aren’t comfortable in, talking to people whose company we may not enjoy, on evenings when we’d prefer the comfort of  home, a bathrobe and Conan O’Brien.

Women seem to be able to muster more enthusiasm for social gatherings than men.  This shouldn’t come as a big surprise, considering we enjoy talking and dressing up more than most men.  That’s a broad generalization, but try to imagine men using home parties selling stuff like car care products or grill accessories as an excuse to socialize.  (In my head I’m trying to picture Beloved Soul Mate at a buddy’s house for a a home demo of Turtle Wax.)

Even if it is true that women are socially more at ease, more than 40% of adults consider themselves shy, and even those who would call themselves extroverts can experience anxiety in social settings.  For those who dread the inevitable social functions, here are some obvious and simple tips;  because enjoying a party isn’t supposed to be hard.

1.  The most important thing is remembering you are not the only one who may feel self-conscious in social situations.  If you are uneasy, it is likely others are too.  Though it is natural to internalize the discomfort, don’t be consumed by worries about what others are thinking of you.  The others are most likely just as anxious about making a favorable impression–or not making a bad one.

2. If you wait for other “shy” people  to break the ice, it could be a very long chilly evening.  By being the one who takes the initiative, you will quickly make the environment more friendly.  It is as simple as introducing yourself, and while this will feel like a huge risk, it will put others at ease and cause you to seem more socially confident than you probably feel.

3. Once introductions are made, there is the inevitable small talk.  Small talk is awkward, until you establish something  both parties can talk about.   Talk about the season, the decorations, the food, how the other person knows the host, or how long they’ve been with the company.  You can even talk about how awkward it is to make small talk.  Kids, dogs and sports are also easy fallback subjects.

4. Lighten up and have a sense of humor.  The point of a party is to have fun, so if you make a gaf, don’t let it spoil your evening.  Having a sense of humor is almost always a good thing, except on those uncomfortable occasions when someone makes an offensive attempt at humor.  In those situations, you may want to quietly excuse yourself to refill your punch cup (or your shot glass).

5.  Speaking of shot glasses..even when alcohol is served, you don’t have to drink it.  Drinking is more acceptable at some parties than others.  While passing out on a couch may be fine form at a reunion of the fraternity brothers,  professional functions are a good time to practice moderation.

6. Every social function has unspoken rules.  If  you try to get a read on what kind of atmosphere the party hosts intend, you won’t feel like the only one who missed the memo.  Be considerate of the hosts, by following suggested dress codes, contributing food or drink if asked, or complying with the parameters of the inevitable holiday gift exchange.   While you’re at it, pick up a little something for the party host(s).  This isn’t required, but it doesn’t take much effort and conveys thoughtfulness.

7.  While you’re being so thoughtful, remember to R.S.V.P.   Later, if your plans change, be sure to inform your host(s).  If you’re expected to attend, do your best to show up, preferably on time.  Being late may seem fashionable, but it is very inconsiderate, if it causes others to wait on you.

Parties are supposed to be relaxing, not stressful.  If you’ve been invited, it is because the host or hostess is hoping you’ll enjoy the occasion.   Showing your appreciation can be as easy as enjoying the food, company and atmosphere.  In a season that is often frantic, do yourself a favor and have a little fun.

On any given day, you’ll see them, the men on the benches outside stores at the mall.  Patiently, they wait, as the women browse every store.  Admirable or pathetic, they wait ,wondering how much longer she’ll be.

There are not as many men who go to the mall with their wives or girlfriends, as those who stay home, doing whatever it is men do while women shop, because most men don’t understand the way women shop.As a  woman goes from store-to-store looking, the men wonder why it takes them so long to find what they’re looking for.  For most men shopping is a challenge–like a hunt.  To come home empty-handed is to fail.  Bagging something–anything makes the hunt a success.  It would seem that when it comes to shopping, men and women are wired differently.  The woman lets the quest continue as she shops for the perfect [insert noun of choice here].

Though a man may not understand why a woman looking for the perfect pair of shoes or the perfect dress, can try on dozens of seemingly similar items and still be looking for something else, when it comes to choosing women, some men shop more like women, than they realize.  You know the ones, those guys who are always looking for someone or something they can’t seem to find.

There was a time when men may not have known exactly what they wanted in a wife or girlfriend, yet they managed to find one.  That was back when relationships were thought of as a launching point for forever after–instead of a stop-gap, ’til something better came along. Unfortunately, with sex-before-marriage now more the rule than the exception, and marriages are often short-lived, some men are no longer looking for a women to grow old with, instead they are looking for a women who will never grow old to them.

With sex readily available, men are more wary of monogamy and it’s implications and with so many choices, they may be reluctant to settle on one.  Relationships have become a gamble, as iffy as buying something at a store with a no-refund policy.  Maybe he sees something he likes, but only after he’s laid out a hefty chunk of money, will he discover the package was misleading, it wasn’t what he’d hoped, or that it isn’t going to last.

When it comes to women, some guys are are exactly like women shopping for the perfect pair of shoes.

There are so many to choose from, many styles, colors and sizes.  It’s up to him how many he tries on, and he is free to discard them if they don’t suit him, OR if he believes he might find something better. So while the women around him wonder why he won’t settle down or what it is he’s looking for, he’s narrowing his choices.  Women may not understand it, but they should–at least with a little decoding.

SHOPPING FOR THE PERFECT SHOES vs.  SHOPPING FOR THE PERFECT WOMAN

• She says: These are too wide. He says: She’s too wide.
  
• She says: This shoe is too narrow. He says: She’s narrow-minded, she doesn’t think the way I do.
  
• She says: I like these, but they pinch. He says: She cramps my style.
• She says: I like these, but I they cost too much. He says: I’d rather not spend my money on her.
  
• She says: I’d buy these, but I don’t want shoes I’d have to polish. He says: Too high maintenance!
• She says: I want to try on a few more. He says: So many women, why settle on one.
• She says: This one is comfortable, but it isn’t attractive enough. He says: I like hanging with her, but I was sorta hoping for a super-model.
• She says: Maybe I could do better. He says: Maybe I could do better.

Like cute shoes in the window beckoning and hoping you’ll pick them, or nice dresses left on the rack at the end of the season, we are left to shake our heads and wonder what it is he’s hoping to find.