garages and kitchens

At the very least, we've all been brought in from outer space. Mary and I are seated about 20 feet apart. She's in the family room, sitting on the couch with lap top smokin'. I am in my office, ill (I'm comin elizabeth!) being seduced into responding to her post when I aught to be in bed asleep. (I'd stay awake if Mary joined me-now,now folks- she would scratch my back and caress my fevered brow. Helping me relax so I could indeed get to sleep. OK back to the garage thing. I could probably take an engine apart. No idea how to put it back together. Everybody knows that it's easier to screw a Phillip's than a slot-head screw. I don't like hollan-daize, and who knew a blender came apart like that? There is one point that MUST BE made here. I am pretty proficient in the kitchen. I don't eat ALL my food raw, and just looking at me you realize I have never met a meal I didn't like. I lived in and cooked in a motor home for years and never has a fire or blew anything up. (I did screw up the repair of the ice making unit which lead to a flood, which in turn ruined the carpet. Water crept up the fabric of some furniture and rotted a small section of floor. Possible story someday.) So, after all the self awareness work I've done, the classes I've taken, and the coaching I've done (mostly with women) it's not hard to understand that I am in touch with my fem-ni-ann side. I have a double major; I do both male and female speak. Oh boy, Mary's out of the shower, I'm gonna go lay down. More later,jdc
I've switched colors to let you know this is my second entry on this same posting. I don't want to rely on any subjective or subtle shifts to convey my return. Got a little snooze, got a little back scratchin, even one of the new cats came and snuggled up next to me. Life is good.
I want to set a precedent. I'm told that some people can't recognize when I stop kidding and get serious and visa versa. Hears the deal; any time you see this color (blue I think) I have moved into seriousness. Should work as long as I remember to change colors. I guess I can always go back over my entries before posting to check for color co-ordination. I'm good with colors-:).
One of the books I've been using as a study guide is entitled; "How to improve your marriage without talking about it." Written by Patricia Love and Steven Stosney. Therapist folks who are well known, somewhere. (OOPS, glad I caught this. For those of you who don't know, I am a Relationship Coach-not a therapist.) The book is a fun read and goes a long way in positing a theory as to why men and women have problems with conversation. Ladies you should know first that men really do want to talk with you. Not only that, but we will listen (pay attention) with open mind and heart. Men you should know first that women really do want to talk with you. Not only that, but they will listen (pay attention) with an open mind and heart. Here's the skivvy. When a women says, "dear, we need to talk" a man goes immediately (in his mind) to SHAME. When a woman hears, "dear we need to talk" she immediately goes to (in her mind) being ABANDONED. MALES-SHAME, WOMEN-ABANDONMENT. The basis of ALL F.E.A.R. (fantasy expectations appearing real.) Think about it, if we're cowering in the corners of our mind how can we relate, much less communicate and most important; connect. Interesting the immediate jump to something being wrong. Not always so, but based on history the phrase I used most often precedes an "issue' of some kind. So, you want to communicate on several levels, right? If you are the initiator; use I rather than we. I need to talk to you. (Delineates the source.) Is now a good time or would later be better? (Whoa- talk about throwing someone into neutral) Takes away the confrontational aspect of -WE TALK-RIGHT NOW. Whatever you agree to do, be in it full time. Not being heard is the biggest complaint from couples. So listen with full attention. Be aware that the issue is not yours, it's theirs, don't feel personally attacked. When the words subside, ask: IS THERE MORE? Shut-up and listen. Repeat what you heard, ask DID I HEAR YOU RIGHT? Yes, good; no, repeat it so I can understand. Next: What do you expect from me? Get clear on that. Now negotiate a settlement you both can live with. All of his pertains to serious shit. Common every day yakking is something else. However using the afore mentioned as a guide to developing your own communal style of conversing will go along way to getting out of the garage and kitchen and into the living room if that's where you want to be. Wink-Wink. The later part of this tirade comes from John Gottman, The Seven Principles Of Making Marriage Work. The guy is some kind of couples guru who has lead some well accepted studies on couples behavior. Both books are good for us, the lay men who are trying to make sense of our conversational/marriage snafu's. Good reading.
Well, I hope I've met the expectation Mary had of me. You know the one; where I could get into this relationship stuff and yak it up without a lot of thought (?) Oh well, I tried. Mary's abed, still. Papa-san is in the bedroom playing with his newest weapon of mass destruction. A 9mm that can hurl lead faster than I can blink. Speaking of eyes, why does a guy who can't see good out of either eye need a gun with a laser sight? Answer: "Just to have it." (I'm told.) My sick old pussy-cat is asleep on the desk, basking in the last of today's sunshine. The two new (officially un-named) cats are stalking around. I've seen them out of the corner of my eye going up and down the hall. I want to name the female D.W. (devil-woman) She's a predator. Already scarred my bird buddy- "Ewell"- into damaging a wing. Poor guy had to go to the bird E.R. They kept him over night so they could a-nest-ta-size him and bandage his wing. He and his bud "Hoppin-John) talk to each other, each being in their own cage for the time being. And Ernie, the what-ever-he-is bird has a respiratory problem and is taking drugs twice a day. He lolls around in the bottom of his cage cause he can't work up the wind/energy to fly up to a perch. Folk's we're living in a private zoo. Oh, almost forgot the dog. She is normal. Still attacks the mail as it is passed through the door mail slot. Wonder why she always manages to rip up the sale flyer's and not the phone bills? Bounds around the living room, up and down on the couches, barking at the mail man until he is out of sight. At the last. The pool is clear and clean. The grill has plenty of gas, and a very willing chef (as long as she isn't asleep) so come on down-up-or over. Just make the trip; you're all very welcome. jdc