Hello South Beach...

...diet.

Dr. Drew:  "When did you first notice you had a problem?"
Charmaine:  "I don't have a "problem".  I can stop "using" (butter) whenever I want."

I had a big Christmas Party. I invited Jerry's kids, grandkids, the baby daddy's, his mother and...

..his X-wife.

There should be a girl scout badge...

I went Martha Steward on their asses. I made adorable invitations, cooked, juried the "ugly Christmas sweater contest".  The white elephant was hilarious due to my mens Santa Knickers with matching hat that ended up on my 13 year old nephew.

I made videos for each guest...from Santa.

Jerry dressed up as St. Nick, offering each guest a personalized ornament.

X-Wife:  You've done a great job with the Condo.  The invitations, the food, such fun...it was amazing.  Is there anything you CAN'T do?

Charmaine:  Smiles sheepishly.

Why Marry Late in Life?

To have conversations with my sister (married 20 years).

Charmaine:  "Jerry is driving me crazy.  All he wants to do is shop.  He buys everything. It's exhausting.  Last week BCBG didn't have boots in my size.  He went BEHIND MY BACK...shipped them from Utah. He is dishonest!

Baby Sister:  "Ahhhhhhhh!"

Charmaine:  "Eating out every night is embarrassing. The Valet guys know us by name. I'm getting FAT. Jerry doesn't understand women.

Baby Sister:  "Ahhhhhhhh!"

Charmaine:  "How do you handle the endless, 'You're so beautiful' remarks? Doesn't it get old?

Baby Sister:  "I hope you die."

The Mother-in-Law

The FUN thing about getting married late in life is acquainting yourself with the family that came before you:  Kids, x-wives and....

The Mother.

I am marrying into an Italian family.

I spent the afternoon with Shirley making home-made raviolis (including the pasta) for Christmas.  It is a 40 year old tradition.  She's adorable...but I keep one eye open.

I've seen episodes of Everyone Loves Raymond.

Bowl of flour, eggs, water, ricotta, cheese, parsley and bits of ham.

She made pasta, I made the filling.

ITALIAN Mother:  "Charmaine.  Place the pasta sheet over the rack, fill with cheese, cover with pasta sheet.  Press out the air, dust with flour, roll with rolling pin and release the ravioli".

Charmaine:  "It's pretty easy, eh?"

ITALIAN Mother:  Silence

ITALIAN Mother:  "That's too much filling"

Charmaine:  "No problem.Voila."

ITALIAN Mother:  "That's not enough filling."

Charmaine:  "Oh."

ITALIAN Mother:  "You didn't dust with flower."

Charmaine:  "Flour, dust thyself upon my raviolis." Dramatic flourish of flour. I giggle.

Husband-to-be:  "You have flour on your stomach."

Charmaine:  "If it was on YOUR stomach we wouldn't have any left."

ITALIAN Mother:  "You'd better be nice to my son.  He's my baby, you know."

Charmaine:  That's one BIG baby.  "I know he's a mama's boy."

ITALIAN Mother:  Gazes at me.

Charmaine:  "In a GOOD Way."

On the 107th ravioli I thought; Why don't we buy these fuckers at Whole Foods?

But traditions are fun.

On the way out... I gave her a hug.

ITALIAN Mother:  "Next time, work faster.  The pasta dries out."

(She lingered, sweetly, at the door, waving, until we were out of sight.)

Later, I recalled the strong smell of the Ricotta.  It smelled "off". I didn't want to say anything.

(It's Christmas Day and the family is vomiting...racing for the bathroom....)

ITALIAN Mother:  "Charmaine made the ravioli this year."

Engaged VS Dating

I don't have to tell YOU the difference, eh?

Okay, I'll tell you.

The difference is HUGE!

A man that wants to MARRY you versus the man that wants to DATE you ad infinitum...it's like apples and oranges...they both serve a purpose.

The marriage minded man wants NOTHING MORE then to please you.  Like the beginning stage in dating a guy (he want's to please you too)...then it wanes to the final stage where you want to KILL him for being such a schmuck.

A schmuck is any man that DOES'NT want to marry you.  It's my blog, I get to redefine words.

I'd been "asked" before.  My mistake was to say, "no" then STAY in the relationship...forever.  Or WORSE, stay in a relationship with some guy that didn't EVER want to get married.

You give yourself to some guy...for free.  He get's all the benefits of a "wife" with none of the obligations.

Screw that!

When you say, "yes"...it keeps the ball rolling.

When you say, "yes" your man stays plugged in.

Let's view sample conversations depicting Dating Man and Marrying Man:

      Dating Man:  "You look nice."
      Marrying Man: "Have I told you how gorgeous you are?  You are so beautiful. I love you so much. Thank you for making my life so fun.  You are just so wonderful and full of life.  I feel like the luckiest man on earth.  Do you want a Vespa?

That about covers it.

Middle Aged Marrying

Had you SUGGESTED I would marry (for the first time) at the age of 50...I would have laughed in your face.

Coffee (more like a crisp Chardonnay) would have sprayed from my nostrils.

Uh, thar' she blows: Kendal Jackson Reserve Chardonnay...

My desire to remain single was complicated.  I had loved and been loved.  I thought I wanted to marry a couple of times (they didn't want to).

A few men wanted to marry ME, (I didn't want to)...

I enjoyed a modest life by the beach and answered to no one. After 20 years I began to wonder if it was ENOUGH.

Something changed.

Job, relocation and a break up.  A wall of Rocky Mountains loomed on my horizon, blocking my view of the ocean.  Had the ocean lulled me into a coma?

I realized how alone I was, had always been.

My independence, to which I'd been wedded, stopped feeling rebellious, avant guard or unique...it felt like HIDING. A person can hide from intimacy for a lifetime. I was proof!

So I said "yes" to a nice man.

Independence is a state of mind, not a living arrangement.

I haven't set a date. My fiancé bribes me with things like Corvettes.  He assures the minute I utter, "I do" he'll buy me a Vespa.

Huh? You've never heard of a woman marrying for a Vespa?  I might be cheap, but I'm not free, mista'.

My nephews are crazy about him...possibly, mostly... the Corvette.

Next summer we'll do it...on the beach.  Not the "it" for which a drink was named (you filthy minded scoundrel) get married...jeez.

I enjoy being engaged.  It's like being married and single at the same time.

...the best of both worlds.

I'm Engaged - Part 2

He stopped me as I lifted the strawberry to my mouth.  It had a ring poised upon it.

(When you're my age you can't see anything unless it's at least 6 feet away.)

We've been dating for 4 months. 

He took me on a vacation.  We did everything I wanted to do including Flying Trapeez lessons on the Santa Monica Pier.  We rented a house on the water and strolled on the shore each morning beneath soaring flocks of pelicans. The waves crashed as seagulls chirped over the misty, abandoned beach.

He took me to THE restaurant I've always wanted to visit, Bazaar located in Beverly Hills. 

It was amazing. (And I've been around people.)

I've been "wined and dined" by more then one Casanova.  This man blows them all out of the water. 

I accepted his proposal with grace: 

"What the hell," I said,

followed romantically with, "Does this mean I can't date other people?"

I'm Engaged

He's the fourth man to propose.  

I said, "yes".

I have a diamond on my finger.

It's just a ring.  Am I supposed to be sure?

I don't trust my heart.

My heart is a liar.