My seven most important life lessons

Blog, seven of the last eight winters I've had to deal with some challenges. Work crises, ill health, death of a loved one, and so on. Oh joy, 2013 is proving to be another one. It's times like these that put me in mind of the most important things I've learned from my 56 years of an oft-times challenging life. Pull up whatever it is that a blog is most comfortable sitting on, and I'll give it to ya straight.

1.  To thine own self be true. I won't pretend I thought of this one, but it's so very important. If you don't face up to your own faults, look them in the eye, and deal with them, they will destroy you eventually. There's such hopelessness in people who delude themselves about their own character. That primary lie leads to a life built on falsities, an existence riddled with wrong conclusions and bad choices. And not only should a person be honest with himself, he should be wary of people who are not. There's a world of problems there you just don't want to have to deal with.

2.  Be interested in as much as you possibly can. People, subjects, activities...try to be curious and explore and inquire. No need to force yourself out of your comfort zone; I'm very risk-averse but can find loads of things to be interested in outside of extreme sports and adventure travel. (Well, I like hearing about extreme sports and adventure travel!) And I'm very much an introvert, but I discipline myself to keep up human connections. Keeping yourself connected to others and the world around you serves to keep you from shutting yourself in your own little world, where you could end up very lonely and longing for purpose.

3.  Humanity is made up of Users and Usees...get to know the players. Usees are goodhearted, generous people who live by the Golden Rule, thinking of others' needs and not necessarily their own. Users are people who are, for whatever reason, mostly focused on their own happiness. And it seems like when in the presence of Usees, they can't help but take advantage. So it's important for nice people to develop the ability to not always take the Nice Road. Once you've pegged someone as a User, you have to watch out for your own interests--they are just as important as anyone else's.

4. Karma is real--trust it, and don't get in its way. I don't necessarily believe in karma as a supernatural force--it's just that every action has consequences, and chickens always come home to roost eventually. If you do good things and make the world a better place, some of that will come back to you for sure, so take heart. Meanwhile, with #3 above in mind, remember it's important not to interfere with karma's work to reward the good behavior and chasten the bad. Protecting people from the bad consequences of their misdeeds is not your responsibility. It's the opposite: the world only gets better if people learn not to make bad choices and do mean things.

5. Make smart decisions, with an eye to the "long view." Pay attention and take the good path at each fork in the road, asking yourself what the long term consequences will be. This really will make a difference in your life. One wrong choice that seems insignificant in the moment can drastically alter the rest of your life--just ask a pregnant teen, a drunk driver who hit someone, or a drug addict. I know it's common sense that smart choices lead to success...and yet we live in a world of people with maxed-out credit cards, don't we? Too many people can't think past today. Learn to do so, and your 20-years-older self will be a much, much happier person. You'll feel pretty good right now, too.

6. Put the kibosh on these behaviors: bitterness, self-loathing, envy, passive-aggressiveness. Some "negative" emotions can be constructive, I think. Grief is necessary and natural. Anger can be therapeutic and can be channeled into positive action. But bitterness only poisons the person harboring it. Self-loathing only cripples one's ability to improve. Envy is usually misplaced--the person you envy is probably as unhappy as you are, so you're wasting your energy. And passive-aggressiveness is a self-deluding game (see #1 above) that accomplishes nothing good.

7. Never commit suicide while you're depressed. This is an old joke of my dad's--one that has a point. Recognize when you are simply bummed out, and don't try to make decisions when in that state. Instead, focus on doing whatever you need to do to feel better. Action can wait until your head's on straight.

Blog, I've done a decent job with most of these principles during my life, but I tell you, I can trace at least 75% of my unhappiness to the consequences of my neglecting them. 'Bout time I passed them on, I guess! Carry on, Blog, and good luck.

The most romantic date ever imagined

Blog, if Christmas isn’t a time for romantic fantasies, I don’t know when is. Having a doozy sort of imagination, I came up with a doozy, which in the interest of holiday cheer I thought I’d share with our readers. Everyone has his or her own concept of the most romantic date ever, and I hope today’s post will inspire others to do their own Christmas dreaming a little early this year.

Of course a girl has to start with her current crush in the role of protagonist. Mine this year is Jack Hodgins from “Bones,” played by the inimitable T.J. Thyne. (I know he just married Angela on the show, but I’m married in actual real life, so what’s your point, Blog?) In order to pull off this dreamy holiday date, a guy would have to be unrealistically aware of feminine hopes and dreams, as well as loaded with a ton of disposable income. Neither T.J. nor Jack really qualify I imagine, but look...if I were going for plausibility here I would simply go out with the awesome Davie (my husband, that Davie).

Okay, let’s roll it...

Jack announces to me that he has planned the ideal Christmastime date, and it starts at the mall. Yes, the mall, don’t roll your eyes, Blog. He’s found a fantasy mall that is just about the most festive shopping scene you could imagine. Every shop in the place is decked out in holiday splendor, and there’s a fairy tale castle in the food court inhabited by the perfect Santa and the coolest elves. We’re holding hands and window shopping, when suddenly around us people start singing “Welcome Christmas” from “The Grinch.” You know, like one of those viral videos where regular people in the place turn out to be this fantastic choir incognito. It’s glorious! Jack and I sing along and grin at each other and I weep a few tears of joy.

Well, Jack tells me he has a little “private shopping” to do, and he drops me off at a salon. The beauticians have been prepped in advance to do a fabulous makeover on me, hair and nails and makeup, the whole bit. It’s a complete Fairy Godmother scene. I can’t imagine where I could go looking so fancy. Well, as they finish up with me, a couple of big packages are delivered to the salon, all wrapped up in spectacular paper and bows. One is this gorgeous ivory cashmere wrap, and the other is a gown with matching shoes. It’s mocha colored and glittery and shimmery and I love it. I put it on and model it for the salon folks, and just then who should show up but Jack.

He’s staring at me like a man possessed, and murmurs, “You look perfect.” I blush and feel like a million and a half dollars. I say, “You got me these presents, didn’t you?” He nods and says, “Yeah, and this one,” and holds out another package. I unwrap it, and it’s a necklace, bracelet and earrings with those chocolate diamonds and pearls that I’ve seen advertised on TV and know are too expensive for a sane person to buy. They are also perfect with the gown. Jack helps me put the jewelry on, and the salon staff all claps, and I’m speechless.

“Now,” says Jack, extricating himself from my crazed embrace, “you look so great you have to go somewhere.” He tells me there’s a limo waiting for me outside the mall, which will take me to our next destination, where he’ll be waiting for me. Stunned, I agree to follow his directions. Jack takes off with a look of glee on his face, and I say farewell to my friends in the salon and go out the back door to where a beautiful black limo is parked, sure enough.

The limo driver is that cool cabbie from “How I Met Your Mother,” and he’s super nice. He settles me in the back like a real footman, and off we go. We drive through the city streets and I admire all the Christmas lights and try to guess where we could possibly be going. He takes a bit of a scenic route but I don’t mind; the limo is playing Christmas music and I keep looking at my necklace and bracelet and wonder how it’s possible those gorgeous things are on my body.

Finally we pull up to this fabulous art deco building that has a big stairway leading up to the front entrance. It looks like an opera house or something equally elegant. The driver lets me out, and then I see Jack coming down the stairs towards me. He’s in a tuxedo and looks beyond dreamy. Which I tell him. He just smiles secretively and takes my hand, and we go up the stairs and into the building.

Inside there is a fabulous ballroom, decked out in Christmas trees and holly boughs and candlelight. A big band is playing “Christmas Waltz,” and the room is full of dancers in their finery. Jack and I dance, flying across the floor as if we’re on “Dancing with the Stars” or something. And so it goes, we dance and drink champagne and eat lovely little canapés and cookies, and stroll around admiring the decorations and enjoying the music, and dancing some more.

Then the band pauses, and Jack excuses himself with a sly look, and heads towards the stage. Next thing I know, he’s at the microphone saying, “I have a holiday dedication for a very special lady, so I hope you all won’t mind if I sing this next one.” The crowd looks excited and happy, the band strikes up “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?” and Jack starts to sing.

His voice is amazing, and all the time he’s looking at me with this tender expression and that smile of his that just makes me crazy. I feel like the most beautiful girl on the planet. When he’s done the crowd goes crazy, and he comes back to me and kisses me in front of everyone.

Well, at this point, Blog, I figure I must simply have died and gone to heaven. But the night isn’t over yet. After a few more dances, a little more champagne, Jack asks if I’m ready for our next stop. I can’t believe there is a next stop. But he gets my wrap and puts it around my shoulders, and we go back outside where there’s another limo waiting, a white one this time.

We cuddle up inside and drink some hot cocoa, and take a long drive past more beautifully decorated buildings and shops and parks. At last we pull up to this fancy hotel, and the car comes to a stop.

So yes, we have a room at this fantastic hotel, a special, immense Christmas room that has a real tree in it all decorated, and a fireplace with a roaring fire, and little white lights all over the ceiling like stars. There’s another present sitting on the bed, and I open it to find a beautiful ivory satin negligee. Jack and I get ready for bed, and snuggle together, and I go off about what an incredible time it all was that I will never, ever forget. Jack tells me, “I know you won’t, I made sure about that...but that’s a surprise for morning.” I can’t imagine what he means, and I’m too exhausted to ponder it for long, and fall asleep in his arms.

The next morning room service brings us a fabulous breakfast, and set it out on the table in our room, with red and white roses and more champagne and wonderful coffee. We linger a long time over the meal, talking about the night before and how nuts we are for each other and other cheerful subjects. Then there’s a knock at the door and Jack returns with another wrapped gift. “Here’s what I promised you last night,” he says, and gives it to me.

When I open the package I find inside a beautiful scrapbook. Inside it’s full of unbelievably perfect photographs of everything that happened the previous day: the singing at the mall, my makeover, me in the gown opening the jewelry, Jack at the top of the ballroom stairs, us dancing, him singing with the band, everything. “I hired two professional photographers to stalk us,” says Jack, “and a graphic designer to stay up all night putting that book together.”

Well, isn’t that just the capper, Blog? What kind of guy would think of such an amazing idea? Well, a guy I dreamed up, I guess, Blog. Sigh. You know, if I could just borrow T.J. Thyne to do a fake photoshoot to create that scrapbook, that in and of itself would be super fantastic.

I love Christmastime romantic fantasies, don’t you? Anyone out there have a holiday date idea I left out? Want to tell me who you’d pick for your fantasy date? Anyway, I hope my doozy imagination inspired a few people to do some Christmas dreaming.

The sexiness of genius

Some girls go for sexy pecs and six-pack abs. Me, Blog? I’m turned on by IQ.

Nothing else could possibly explain my attraction to Sheldon from “The Big Bang Theory,” who is nerdier than a game room at ComicCon. Okay, I admit I’m not exactly having fantasies about the guy, but I do adore him and could listen to him talk all day.

Likewise, I will forgive Dr. House anything even though he is more cruel and insensitive than a roomful of BP execs. Okay, even he is not that bad. But he can get away with bad behavior because when no one else has a clue how to save a life, House always knows.

There’s nothing like extreme genius to get this girl’s heart palpitating. When I began reading Neil Gaiman’s work it was his brilliant intellect as much as his writing style that awed me. (The illustration here is a portrait I did of him.) Musician Jonathan Coulton writes great songs, but it’s the fact that his lyrics are about DNA and the Mandelbrot Set that really turns me on. Grant Imahara on “Mythbusters” is a cutie, but it’s because he can build a robot that can do anything his crazy bosses want is why I’m smitten with him.

Back when I split with my first husband and found myself back in the dating pool, I hooked up with a guy who was a one-way ticket to irresponsible behavior. If you’re me, that is. He was physically totally my type, was a musician who played guitar and had a gorgeous voice, and probably had the highest IQ of anyone I’ve even known personally. I think I could have dealt with Factors A and B if not for Factor C. It was very hard for me to turn away from someone that smart; sure he was bad for me in a half dozen ways, but when was I going to have a romantic shot again at someone so uberintelligent?

So, Blog, this enlightens you a tad more regarding yesterday’s confessed attraction to Dr. Hodgins from “Bones.” This geniusophilia of mine is a recurring thing, I assure you. Other crushes I’ve had in this category would include Sting (he’s not just another pretty face who specializes in tantric sex, Blog), Ben Linus (diabolical genius), Harlan Ellison (SF author I loved as a teen), Klaatu (brilliant space alien), and my high school trig teacher.

Have I ever written about any super-smart guys in my romances? Is the Pope Catholic, Blog? For starters, a couple of the protagonists in two of my favorite stories ever appear in Soulful Sex: The Darker Side. There’s the title character in “Dr. Chambliss,” who is pretty much the academic equivalent of House. And there’s also Riley Madsen, from “The Poet,” the world’s first rock star poet. The mysterious genius Eric in “Fantastic Toys” in Soulful Sex Volume II is also in this category. And there’s Sadhil Narayan, the brilliant filmmaker in my award-winning story “Alloy Love” from Soulful Sex: The Science Fiction Collection, whom you see in the portrait.

Just thinking about these guys makes me all quivery, Blog. Oh stop it, just because you’re a disembodied anthropomorphized being with a masculine vibe doesn’t give you the right to smirk!

Is there anyone else out there smitten with smarties? Any other nominees for high-IQ hotties? Hit us in the comments. Oh, and the hot links you see in this post go to entries on my old Erotica with Sex blog where I talk about said celebrity crushes, so if you’re into any of these peeps, click away for more rhapsodizing.

When dream lovers and real guys collide

Blog, I’m doing it old school in today’s post: back to my old “Love, Sex and Romance” pontificating like on my old blog. And I’m thinking about one of my favorite topics of yore: celebrity crushes.

Who’s the lucky guy? Not any of the folks that readers of my Erotica with Soul blog remember, like Neil Gaiman, Michael Emerson/Ben Linus, or Les Stroud. No, my current crush is one T.J. Thyne. Not exactly a household name, but the man has plenty of chicks smitten with him. Blog, I can see on your noncorporeal face you need more info: T.J. plays Dr. Jack Hodgins on the show “Bones.”

I’ve never tried to hide my attraction to geeks in general, and Hodgins is one mega-geek. He specializes in identifying stuff like minerals and bugs in soil samples. He spouts off long Latin names for things (and I’ll bet T.J. has to practice them for hours in order to do that). He’s a conspiracy theorist, but not the kind that takes himself too seriously. He’s cute and funny and has a smile that...okay, Blog, before I get carried away, I’ll get to my point.

In googling T.J. Thyne I discovered he not only has a Facebook fan page, but he actually personally posts to it sometimes. This was both a blessing and a curse to me: A blessing because obviously I am proud to proclaim to the world my crush on him, and clicking “like” on Facebook was the least I could do. A curse because the fact that he actually reads and posts means crossing the Maginot Line of Celebrity Crushes. Uh-oh.

What is “the Maginot Line of Celebrity Crushes,” you ask, Blog? It’s when a fan stops thinking about the public persona, the “performance” if you will, of a celebrity and connects with the reality of that person’s personality and life. All sorts of muddling can happen then if you are not careful, and being careful when you are infatuated can be hard.

See, the typical pattern of a celebrity crush goes like this:

1. You experience a performance by the actor/singer/writer/athlete. (My husband introduced me to watching “Bones.”)

2. You get that tingle of attraction to the character/persona. (I thought Hodgins was a really interesting character.)

3. You suddenly realize you are actually kinda smitten with him/her. (I started wishing every episode would have at least 200% more Hodgins.)

4. You google the person, ostensibly to find photos, or other performances, etc. (I was wondering what else T.J. had done acting-wise.)

5. You find yourself staring at the Pandora’s box of the celebrity’s real life. (Facebook page referenced above, etc.)

And what exact danger do I refer to? Well, it’s like this, Blog: With the infinitely rare exception, when you crush on a celebrity it is because of how they look, the personality of the character they play, or some other thing that appeals to you. Because of the qualities you perceive, you glom on to the person and project upon them other traits that appeal likewise to you. Thus they become the ideal “dream lover” for you.

For example, I imagine Hodgins/T.J. to be this very nice, very smart, quirky guy, who combines being awe-inspiring with being approachable. So long as I don’t learn too much about T.J. Thyne, I can continue my fantasy about what the guy is like and fairly easily distinguish my “imaginary T.J.” with the real person.

But in reading about him on his Facebook page, which includes quite a bit of stuff he’s written about his life and career, I found out that in real life he is this very nice, very smart, quirky guy, who combines being awe-inspiring with being approachable. Okay, not so smart as Hodgins, but close enough. Cue Crush Alarms! Cue Crush Alarms!

This is the point at which a person becomes tempted to somehow court the celebrity, by writing fan mail or creating a fan site or merely commenting on his Facebook status (okay, I did do that last one, Blog). Don’t get me wrong--none of these count as stalking. But here’s the problem once you cross that Maginot Line of Celebrity Crushes:

You open up the possibility of feeling like the object of your crush is not what it truly is: a fantasy lover completely within your control. You start feeling instead like he is a real, unattainable person who cannot possibly return your feelings. Which is not fun.

Oh, don’t worry, Blog. After the approximately 217 celebrity crushes I’ve had, I have finally learned to control my emotions enough that this problem never gets beyond the slightly-painful-twinge stage. Still, I like to avoid it if I can.

But I am compelled to share this cautionary anecdote nonetheless: T.J. updated his status today, a fact that made me happy since he (or rather a sort of Diana interpretation of Hodgins) has been starring in my daydreams lately. In my fantasies I often find myself calling him “Teej,” which I cannot explain except for it being an adaptation of when they called D.J. on “Full House” Deej sometimes. Well, Blog, one of the commenters on T.J.’s status, who may or may not actually be a real life friend of his, called him Teej. A spooky intersection of fantasy and real life, however trivial.

So I must persist in not feeling an unreasonable level of affection for Mr. Thyne the real person. I’m confident I can manage, but sometimes I am challenged. Take, for example, this clip of the real guy interacting at Fox Studios with another very cool person, Cat Deeley (the host of “So You Think You Can Dance”). Anyone who can so naturally segue into such a gorgeous recitation of Hamlet’s soliloquy is pretty ridonkulously hard not to love, Blog.



Lord have mercy. Okay , I’ve got it under control, really I do.

JULY 31 UPDATE:  Forget that last video, here's the one you want to watch.  This is the creation of T.J. himself and encapsulates 5 years of Jack Hodgins in 5 minutes.  So very, very nice....