First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage: RE-DEUX

Today I was out to lunch with the husband, my daughter and some friends. I noticed a familiar face…my ex husband’s wife. Crap….where there’s smoke, there’s fire. And there was my ex husband. In the midst of an animated conversation, I blurted out; “Oh look! My ex husband is crossing the street!” AWKWARD!!! I am not sure if either saw me and quite honestly, that would have been a strange interaction. But, without the destruction of my first marriage, I would not have been sitting outside of Sutton Place with my husband, daughter and some friends. I secretly thanked the current Mr. and Mrs. H for making my life a living hell, as brief as it was because where I literally was today is a much happier place to be.
This brings me to the Re-Deux---the second time around. Last night, we attended the wedding of my good friend Robyn and her now husband Rob. Yes, two Robs. Both Robs have previously been married as well. In a quick side-note compliments of small worldliness/Jewish geography, my sister once hung out with Man Rob. He bought her a Red Bull. The end….Back to last night. During their beautiful and lighthearted ceremony, I was waxing nostalgic over life’s way of throwing shit in your face only to see just how you manage to clean that shit off. I imagine that me and the two Robs were excited to walk down the aisle the first time. I know I was, but I also know I was so nervous, almost to the point of getting sick and with my 20/20 vision that allows me to see so accurately into the past, I recognize that those nerves were really apprehension and a voice screaming in my head not to do it. Cest la vie. Without making that “mistake” of a first marriage, I would not have been sitting next to Josh listening to the Robs take their vows.
I mean, can we ever be sure if our relationship decisions are the right ones? No, but we choose the paths we take. I remember when Lady Rob came to grips with the fact that her marriage was over. It was as painful and heartbreaking for me to watch her go through the pain and anger as it was for me to have actually gone through it myself. But I knew she would get through it. That Rob—she is a tough one. Through a set up, she met Man Rob and after months of referring to him as a friend, she realized he truly was a friend AND the love of her life.
Because our work crew is silly and love any excuse to wear identical shirts while traveling in a pack, a group of us girls got together for a RE-DEUX celebration. And you know what? It was a true celebration. How many people are that fortunate to have the chance to love again; to pick up the pieces of something that was shattered, toss some of those pieces away but keep the ones that helped to get you to be the person you now are? People assume that those who have been through divorce are damaged goods. Maybe that is true, but I certainly don’t think damage can be limited only to those coming off a divorce. While I was on J-Date, there were many guys who poo-pood divorcees. There are so many of us out there, male and female, for whatever reason who walk down the aisle toward who they believe is their future, only to put them in the past. We are the ones who understand what marriage is about or at least what it shouldn’t be (not to say that those of you who have only been married once have it wrong…go you!) and only want what we didn’t have.
So mucho mazel to the Robs and their RE-DEUX. You have shown so many of us love lives. AND, you threw a great party. My feet are freakn’ killing me!

From Lisa to BO…a Metamorphic Disaster

Tied with a multitude of pet peeves in the numero uno spot is body odor. I just don’t understand it. If others are experiencing nasal rape from someone’s sweat glands, how is it that person isn’t bothered by their own stench? Are they immune? Do they lack a sense of smell? Do they simply not regard hygiene as a necessity? Is this a cultural issue?
So many questions, and no answers. Yet, guess who smelled like yesterday’s gym clothes with a side of grilled onions? ME!!!!!!!!!!!!
Horror of horrors. I am gross. I am my own pet peeve. Following the birth of baby E, I was not informed that my hormones would be so out of control that I would continue to sweat like a pig and SMELL!!! Perhaps if I read up on these issues or asked more questions, I would have been better prepared to deal with the consequences of making fun of smelly people. For years, I have used Hi & Dri Powder Fresh deodorant. It costs less than a dollar and can only be purchased at Harmon Drugs or, on occasion, the Dollar Store (where, side-note, nothing is really a dollar). It is a no frills deodorant I discovered sometime during high school after I suffered the trials and tribulations of overactive sweat glands that had me looking like I ran 47 miles up and down hill by the time first period started. I was just sweaty though, not smelly. Prescription deodorant was painful. After I plowed through every deodorant under the sun, including men’s, I tried Hi & Dri. It was a Christmas miracle, or what I least believe would be the equivalent to one considering I light the menorah. Recently, I recommended this deodorant to some friends and they are hooked too. How could they not be? Helen Keller had Anne Sullivan, armpit’s have Hi & Dri. IT IS THAT GOOD. In fact, if I were to learn that it was being discontinued, I imagine I would freak out like Elaine on Seinfeld when the Sponge was no longer going to be an option for birth control (http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=288892985899). I am that loyal…and this is deodorant we are talking about.
Yes, loyal, despite the fact that Hi & Dri is failing me. My hormones are so crazy that they are trying to turn me against my beloved little pink roll on bottle. So much so, that the other day at work, I caught a wiff of myself. Appalled, I sniffed again….you know the move….lift arm shoulder height and turn head to the side while pretending to wipe the side of your face on your sleeve, only you are inhaling what you hope is smelly good scent, not BODY ODOR!!!!
Fortunately, I have back-up in my glove compartment and desk. I also have alternative deodorants that apparently appeal better to a body that is simply not itself just yet. So, if you see me, or possibly smell me first, remember, it’s not hygienic neglect, a lack of sense of smell, or a cultural issue; it’s my hormones.