Will You Marry Me?

Today, as you all know, is February 29th. What is commonly refered to as Leap Day.

"According to an old Irish legend, or possibly history, St Bridget struck a deal with St Patrick to allow women to propose to men – and not just the other way around – every 4 years. This is believed to have been introduced to balance the traditional roles of men and women in a similar way to how Leap Day balances the calendar."

And as I'm half Irish, you might have thought I would have taken note of this in my younger years.


"In some places, Leap Day has been known as “Bachelors’ Day” for the same reason. A man was expected to pay a penalty, such as a gown or money, if he refused a marriage proposal from a woman on Leap Day. In many European countries, especially in the upper classes of society, tradition dictates that any man who refuses a woman's proposal on February 29 has to buy her 12 pairs of gloves. The intention is that the woman can wear the gloves to hide the embarrassment of not having an engagement ring. During the middle ages there were laws governing this tradition."

Now I'm sure most of you know, I will be using this little piece of information in one of my books.

Tell me -- Is there anyone (living, dead, character from a book, movie) you would like to propose to?

Here is my choice. This would be Col. Brandon from Sense & Sensibility.

(Source of quotes  http://www.thetimenow.com)

I'm Just Not That Into You

Good Morning.

Last year, before all my falderal, I had a schedule for this blog -- Monday's were about love, Wednesday's were about writing, and Friday's were at the Piedmont Grille. I liked that schedule and I think I'm going to try and go back to it since I'm not crazy busy anymore.

So here we are on Monday, and I'm going to write about love. Or should I say my lack thereof. For long -time readers of my blog, you know I'm a single parent, and some of you may also know my ex- finally got his act together and moved back to NC to be near our daughter. What most of you don't know, however, is that my ex- has moved back into our home.

NOT to be with me. To be near our daughter. Let me repeat that -- NOT to be with me.

Right from the get-go, I made it quite clear in no uncertain terms that WE were not a couple anymore. I had no desire for us to try and work things out and we would maintain separate bedrooms. (Which, luckily I had an extra one.) So far this has worked out well.

HOWEVER, I am approaching my 50th birthday in April and I keep wondering if I'll ever fall in love again.

One of the big internet dating sites had a "free" weekend this past weekend and I toyed with the idea of online dating. No, I didn't join. I mean, seriously, what would my ad say?

SWF, 50, w/7 yr. old daughter, seeks companionship one or two days per week to meet for coffee/chat. Cannot travel, cannot date at night, cannot bring you home because my ex- lives with me. Hobbies include -- BBC adaptations of Jane Austen, writing, reading, and trying to get a grip on housework. Must be between the ages of 45-60, single/divorced, like old rock and roll, be sober, have a job, and vehicle. Looking for long term commitment with no foreseeable future.

How many men do you know would answer an ad like that? Besides the crazies.

And truth be told, I don't even know if I'm actually serious about getting into another relationship these days. I've got my career going on, The Monster is my top priority, and I've gained so much weight, well, I'm not exactly comfortable in my own skin.

But with spring right around the corner, and the (almost) promise of returning to the beach in RI again this summer, my thoughts have turned to the men I met on vacation last year. The guy on the beach, the guy in the fish department at Stop & Shop, and the chef at the restaurant where we ate like 6 times. (There are no men in NC that attract me. NONE.)

I've been in this "love limbo" for about 6 years now. It's not fun. And as the clock ticks closer to my big birthday I have to wonder if I'll ever fall in love again. I mean, I'm not looking to get married. I've remained free from the nuptial noose for this long, why bother. One in two marriages end in divorce anyway. Why be a statistic.

But the thought of remaining for the rest of my life without another someone to kiss good-night really has me bothered. The thought of never having sex again is kind of disturbing. (Then again, it has been 5 years, what's a few decades more. Sorry, that might have been a little too much information. But you know, this is my reality.)

The things I miss about men are subtle -- a shared joke, a mid-day call just to check in, bringing home a gallon of milk without me asking, help with the dishes. But that kind of stuff takes years to achieve. And I'm feeling like I don't have too many years left, before the looks completely fade, and the arthritis really sets in.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy being single. I'm too independent and too set in my ways, I think, to really have what I might have wanted back in my 20's. But a nice lunch every now and again would be great. A walk through a museum or a night out at the theatre would be swell.

(And for those of you who say or think I should give my ex- another chance -- hush your mouth. THAT will NEVER EVER happen. I may have forgiven him, but I will never forget what he did to me and our daughter. There is no trust or respect left in that relationship.)

So tell me -- Do you think love after 50 is possible? Or am I more likely to get hit by lightning at 12,000 feet in an airplane?

Love and Marriage

Good Monday Morning. And because it's Monday and I now write about romance on Monday, I thought I'd give love and marriage a go. It seems I got hit with an S.N.I. (shiny new idea) last week and it pertains to our topic.

Now, all of the books I've written so far, the hero and heroine (or H/H) have found their way through love, to marriage. In this latest book, Robert, (our hero) finds himself at gunpoint (literally) and must marry Fiona (our heroine). The reason -- well, it's a compromising position that wasn't intended as such. Fiona was actually trying to keep Robert from killing himself (accidentally). Unfortunately, her father found out and well, let's just say that Laird Fionnghall Stewart was not a happy camper. Hence the shot-gun marriage.

Robert's intention is to have the marriage annulled after a time. And if that doesn't work, then he'll get a divorce. He's rich, he's a duke, he could do it. Now, being a romance, you KNOW that's not going to happen. We need a Happily Ever After. And I'll get it. After all, this is a book.

However, in real life, since my last birthday in April, I've been giving a lot of thought to marriage. I have never been married. In my 20's and 30's, I thought I had all the time in the world to find Prince Charming, Mr. Right, or The Soul Mate. Then when I hit my 40's, I was despairing of ever meeting THE ONE. It was easier to get struck by lightning in an airplane, than a woman in her 40's to get hitched. My biological clock was ticking, faster and faster and well, you can't make a baby by yourself. (Well, you can, but not without a trust fund.) When I met Monster Child's father, and without getting into it, I thought I found HIM. For all intents and purposes I THOUGHT he was a good man. And he was, still is, sort of. His family had a lot to do with our break-up. We had intended to get married before Monster Child was even conceived, but that didn't happen. (For reasons too numerous to mention.) And then again, after she was born, but well, it's a long story.

I don't know if this is a subconscious idea or not, but I truly don't think I was ever supposed to be married. Sure, I've fallen in love, I've been engaged four times. But the one question that always brought me crashing back to reality was -- Can I look at this person for the rest of my life over breakfast every morning? Yeah, that's it. Sounds stupid, but that's how I think. And my answer, every single time was no. So, I remain a spinster.

I envy those of you who have found your hero and have been married for EVER. I do long for that closeness, yearn for that synchronicity of familial bond. I miss having a man around the house. Even if he does watch football every single freaking Sunday from August to January. Even if he does leave wet towels on the bathroom floor, and never puts his dishes in the dishwasher.

I miss the shared smiles, the fleeting touches, the phone calls at noon, just to see what I'm up to. And well, truthfully, I miss the sex. Orgasms are a dime a dozen, but making love to a man you love is just truly mind-blowing. It transcends everything.

Yes, love and marriage are hard work. And I've never been afraid of that. What I was always afraid of was divorce. I never wanted that. And going back to the breakfast thing, if there was ever any question in my mind that it would come down to it, then why bother getting married in the first place.

Do I regret not being married? No. Do I want to be married? I don't know. I suppose if I met the right man, I wouldn't say no. I deserve to find a good man. I'm a good woman. I think I deserve a Happily Ever After.

Tell me -- Did you know you would be with your significant other for always? Do you believe in Happily Ever After? How hard is it really to make love and marriage work?


PS My guest post will appear on Natascha's blog The Las Vegas Writer, tomorrow, Tuesday if you want to swing by and take a look.