Ivan

Looking at old pictures and going through old papers can bring back all kinds of memories long dormant. People, places and feelings of which you hadn't thought in years suddenly they’re right there, front and center. The other day I came across a museum program from the late 80s…a lifetime, no at least two lifetimes ago.

Misty water colored memories indeed...

He made his entrance into the museum with his usual flashy style. Ivan wouldn’t just walk into a room, he exploded into it. His long, dark hair, streaked with gray, flowed behind him, as if blown by a wind machine. The white outfit hung on is long, lean body, making him appear taller and thinner and brighter.

As he walked further into the room, his long arms would reach out to everyone, hugging, caressing, shaking hands. Everyone knew he had arrived, especially me. My eyes snapped to him the moment he appeared and I couldn’t stop looking at him after that. But, I didn’t move from my spot by the beautiful gray and taupe colored painting, I waited for him to come to me. And, of course, he did.

Our flirtation had begun in his studio a few weeks prior when I discovered the Bakery Center Art Complex. The Bakery Center housed new artists, providing them with inexpensive studio and display space. I visited every studio, reveling in so much beauty. I walked into Ivan’s studio and instantly fell in love…not with Ivan, but with his work. When I entered the small, cluttered area, it stood empty, except for the canvases. One in particular entranced me as I walked in. It was huge, taking up the entire wall it leaned against, with broad strokes of bright tropical colors depicting a woman overlooking the beach. I stood there, transfixed, gaping at the painting, when I heard a deep, resounding laugh. When I turned I saw a magnificent man, his bare chest tan, sinewy, covered with dark, curly hair and paint. “I love how you look at my work” he said, smilingly widely.

After talking about his work for a while we went to lunch at a nearby Haitian restaurant and talked for a long time, nothing too intense, just introductory banter. Although we exchanged numbers, I wrote it off as another one of those wonderful chance encounters you can enjoy when you’re single, but of little importance. So, his invitation that evening to an opening at a funky little gallery on the Beach caught me by surprise…but thrilled me nonetheless.

That night turned out to be the first of several gallery jaunts and avant-garde adventures, where Ivan exposed me to a side of Miami I didn’t know, but loved. Each time we got together I felt a buzz of excitement and attraction, and he seemed prone to touching me, holding my hand, leaning in to me. Yet, something kept nagging at me about him and that something kept me from taking the physical aspect of our relationship a step further. It was something indefinable, yet there. Maybe it was a cadence in his voice, or his approach to art and aesthetics in general. Or the fact that that he looked at many of the good looking men that crossed our path the same way he looked me.

Now, back at the Museum, as he walked towards me I felt that same attraction, and when he touched my back, the goose bumps erupted instantly. We spent the entire evening together surrounded by friends, admiring the beautiful art, and enjoying the opening party. Our bodies were touching, in some fashion, the entire time. Afterwards, as I got into his old, rusty little car he leaned over and kissed my neck, and I let him. During dinner we barely spoke, but it felt comfortable and intimate nonetheless. His deep, chocolate-brown eyes looking at me made me breathless, and it appeared that same look made our handsome, blond waiter nervous. Afterwards when I returned from the restroom, I saw Ivan gently brush the waiter’s pale face with his strong, dark hand as he smiled at him tenderly, tucking a folded piece of paper into his pocket as I approached. I surprised myself at not being surprised.

After dinner, rather than driving me home, Ivan drove towards the airport. As we drove along Perimeter Road I knew what he had in mind, and I wondered how I should handle it. It had been a while since I had made-out in a car parked on the road running alongside the Miami Airport runway, and I smiled in the darkness as he maneuvered the car so that it would face the runway.

I definitely couldn’t let things get too carried away with a man I suspected of being bisexual - it was dangerous both physically and emotionally. He turned off the motor and got out of the car, quickly coming around to my side and opening the door. I stepped out, still wondering how to handle this. I stepped into the back seat and leaned back closing my eyes as he slid into the seat next to me. I felt his arm pull me close to him as my breath got shallow, my heart beating quickly. I opened my eyes and looked into his beautiful smiling face, “Ivan”, I asked, “are you bisexual?”

He caressed my face and laughed a wonderful, throaty laugh, his eyes sparkling as he looked at me. Just then I made my decision, as I pulled his face towards mine. I really wanted to kiss him, that’s all…just kiss him. And that’s exactly what I did, as a plane roared into the darkness, causing the earth to shake…at least…I think it was the plane.

We saw each other for a while and then drifted away as so often happens. I don't know where he is, but I hope wherever he is, he's happy and being his fabulous self. And I hope if he remembers me, that the memory makes him smile that dazzling smile.

I Just Want To Be Mad

image source

This song by Terri Clark has been around for a while, and the other day in the midst of a full Lola shuffle (that's where I shuffle all the songs on my iPod and listen to everything) it came up and I was reminded how fantastic a song this is.

I think every woman who loves someone feels like this every now and then. You definitely love your partner - there's no question about that. You know this person is without a doubt the person you want to be with - but damnitalltohell they can pizz you off!

Most of the time it's just a quick kerfuffle, everybody yells, stay away from each other for a bit and then carry on normally. But other times, you don't get over it right away, your angry and frustrated and don't want to deal with your beloved - you just wanna be mad for a while. So, when your partner comes around and tries to be normal, or extra nice you're just not ready yet and sometimes it lasts for more than a day.

This song captures that emotional state brilliantly and in a way validates it. Like, it's OK if you're still angry when the other person is over it - it doesn't mean you don't love them it just means you're still pissed!

Here are the lyrics - seriously how perfect are they?

I Just Want To Be Mad

Terri Clark

Last night we went to bed not talkin',

'Cause we'd already said too much.

I faced the wall, you faced the window

bound and determined not to touch.

We've been married seven years now,

Some days it feels like 21.

I'm still mad at you this mornin'.

Coffee's ready if you want some.

I've been up since five, thinkin' bout me and you.

And I've got to tell you the conclusion I've come to.

I'll never leave, I'll never stray.

My love for you will never change,

but I ain't ready to make up, we'll get around to that.

I think I'm right, I think you're wrong.

I'll prob'ly give in before long.

Please don't make me smile.

I just wanna be mad for a while.

Well, now you might as well forget it.

Don't run your fingers through my hair.

Yeah, that's right, I'm bein' stubborn.

No, I don't wanna go back upstairs.

I'm gonna leave for work without a goodbye kiss.

But as I'm drivin' off, just remember this.

I'll never leave, I'll never stray.
My love for you will never change,
but I ain't ready to make up, we'll get around to that.
I think I'm right, I think you're wrong.
I'll prob'ly give in before long.
Please don't make me smile.
I just wanna be mad for a while.

I'll never leave, I'll never stray.
My love for you will never change,
but I ain't ready to make up, we'll get around to that.
I think I'm right, I think you're wrong.
I'll prob'ly give in before long.
Please don't make me smile.
I just wanna be mad for a while.

I just wanna be mad for a while.
I just wanna be mad for a while.
I just wanna be mad for a while.

Wait! When did they grow up?

In talking with a friend yesterday the subject of kids - specifically teenagers - came up. As you know I have no children, but most of my friends do and I was in the hospital either during or shortly after many of them were born. And frankly, I consider them sort of *my kids*. OK, not technically my children, but at the very least my nieces and nephews. In other words I love them and have watched them grow and become pretty amazing people.

This year, the oldest batch turns 19.

19!!!

What the hell? 19 is old. Well, for a kid. Not to mention how old it makes me (sigh).

Anyway, we were talking about how, despite some very, very minor mistakes they really are all good kids. Very good kids. When I read about the myriad of problems with "today's kids" I'm shocked and thankful that all that stuff is not a reality in *my* kids' lives.

Now, all of these kids went to private schools - as I did. I realize that private school, specifically in our upper-middle class "Miami Cuban" society, is almost a parallel universe to the *real world*. As I was talking to my friend I acknowledged that I had grown up in a pretty, pastel-hued bubble of a world, surrounded by friends and family, in small schools where everybody knew my name and feeling absolutely secure in the knowledge that I was never alone, that someone was always there for me, that I was always loved.

Then somewhere in my mid twenties reality hit. And it hit hard. It almost knocked me out. OK, wait. Despite the drama queen that I am, I'm not deluding myself into thinking I ever came anywhere close to "hitting rock bottom" - but it was rock bottom enough for *me*.

The thing is, I realize that when reality had the audacity to intrude in my rainbows and unicorns bubble it knocked me for a loop precisely because I lived in that bubble. So the question came up - is it better to raise a child in "a pretty bubble" only to have the snot knocked out of them at some point when they're older, or should you not protect your kids that much, should you let them see some of the ugliness of reality?

In my opinion - bubble away! As long as kids lucky enough to have the opportunity to live in a secure, nurturing and loving environment *know* that they're very lucky and don't take it for granted and don't feel entitled - I think it's OK. I'm not saying to spoil children by giving too much and expecting too little - I'm just saying that reality will eventually happen to them.

I know that I'm glad that when *the real world* hit me that I was in my 20s and not 14, or 17 or even 19. Maybe that's why it didn't break me.

19? My God - how is that even possible? I remember when she was all tiny and pink...when he was all scrunchy and shrieking. When did she become a beautiful young woman, and he a handsome young man? I don't want them to know too much reality just yet. I want to protect them for a little bit longer - not too much longer I know - but still, for a couple of more years maybe?

The Lola Shuffle - The "DANGER - I Have Access to a Free Frequent Flier Round-Trip Ticket to Europe and a Passport" Edition

I'm about ready to take a cab to MIA walk up to the American Airlines ticket counter and buy a ticket to the next plane to anywhere in Europe. Seriously.

I don't want to be in charge of things, handle things or plan things. No. I don't want to talk to the nice case manager from the home health care company who is being harassed by the thugs who call themselves my health insurance company. I don't want to think about when the frickin' frackin' car will be ready to get out of the repair shop or how much it's going to cost or if the mechanic was able to get a used part for the car seat that isn't working right. I don't want to think about how to distribute my 401K, which by the way will no longer be matched by my employer because the economy is f'd up. I don't want to think about how Hubby will endure the plane ride to his sister's wedding at the end of March.

I just don't.

Instead I want to listen to what Lola has shuffled up - because see, *she's* in charge of that - I have nothing at all to do with what comes up. So, go on Lola, shuffle away please. I'll just lay here under my desk rocking in the fetal position while sucking my thumb.

1. Maybe Baby - Buddy Holly
2. That's the Way of the World - Earth, Wind & Fire
3. Swing - Trace Adkins
4. This Old House - Brian Setzer Orchestra
5. Jungle Love - Steve Miller Band
6. Time - Hootie and the Blow Fish
7. Life in the Fast Lane - The Eagles
8. Everlasting Love - Gloria Estefan
9. Unwritten - Natasha Bedingfield
10. I Never Promised You a Rose Garden - Martina McBride

Have a great weekend - maybe I'll see you at the airport!

You Know You've Been Raised By Cuban Parents when...

(From an e-mail message I received today)

You smelled like "Agustin Reyes Royal Violets" (violet cologne) as a baby.

You had to wait at least 30 minutes to get into the water after eating to avoid a stroke.

They made a cross on your skin with their finger nails when you got a mosquito bite.

You always had prescription drugs in the house, yet no one ever visited the doctor - it was usually Tetracycline.

Your mom or grandma made you a "cocimiento de manzanilla" (chamomille tea) to make you feel better when you had stomach problems.

You had a least two fruit trees planted in the backyard. One of them was usually a mango tree.

You went to La Carreta, or Sergio's, or the grand daddy of all Cuban restaurants, Versailles, after a "special" event like someone's communion.

You had at least 2 trays of "Bocaditos de Pasta" at your birthday party.

You have someone in the family who you introduce as your "cousin," but he/she is not a blood relative.

And the amazing "heat-seeking CHANCLETAS" (flip flops - sort of).

:)

Thought for the Weekend

Life is short - break the rules, forgive quickly, kiss slowly, love truly, laugh uninhibitedly...and never regret anything that made you smile.

Great Lyrics of the 80s

Many of you may know that there is a huge part of the 80s that I don't remember - not due to chemical enhancement, I swear - it was just a difficult time in my life and apparently my brain has graciously helped me block most of it out. And I'm fine with that.

This situation however, has not overridden my freakish memory for lyrics. The minute the song starts to play I know all the words regardless of how wretched I think the song is and despite the fact that I can't tell most of the 80s bands apart. I pretty much think - and don't hate me for this people! - that with some significantly notable exceptions 80s pop music was pretty much dreck.

However, even within said dreck there are occasional lyric jewels to be found. I recently sat through a video of Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam with Full Force (I mean really people, WTF?), it was the one for All Cried Out. Apparently the song has been remade several times, but the *real* one is Lisa Lisa'a.

ANYWAY, in this most ridiculously over-the-top song there is a lyric that I think is fantastic. See, Lisa Lisa is singing (I'm using the term loosely) about how this guy who she totally loved cheated on her and treated her badly, blah, blah, blah, and apparently the guy has now offered some lame-azzed apology (as sung by one of the Cult Jammers with Full Force). But Lisa Lisa is having none of that nonsense and she delivers THE line:

"Apology not accepted, add me to the broken hearts you've collected"

Seriously - brilliant! She used the "accepted-collected" rhyme! Can you do that with so much conviction? I think not! And, if you listen to the song, the melody even changes - it's all syncopated with emphasis on certain syllables, giving the statement even more conviction:

a-POLOGY-not-acc-CEP-ted-add-me-TO-the-bro-ken-HEARTS-you've-col-LEC-ted

Oh well, I think it's cool.

Do you have any specific lyrics that really stick with you- in a good way? I have tons. I'll try and think of more, meanwhile, tell me yours!