Leisure and Fun

Everywhere I Turn, Relationship Advice

Maya Halpen — Sat, 30 Aug 2008 06:00:41 -0400

A friend of mine who has a life coaching business dropped me a line recently: "Hi, thinking of you, what's up?"

His quick and light email ended with a thud: "Remember, being single is not a burden, it's an opportunity!"

Nice sentiment, but what? I had just made the decision to stick around in my marriage and try really hard to improve it, so the note seemed ill-timed, if not downright rude. I wrote to remind him, maybe not gently enough, of my change of tack.

Well, apparently that line was just his automatic signature, phrased to inspire the bulk of his clientele, and not a message to me personally. Oops. Hee.

We sorted it out easily, but my quick and strong reaction was telling. I'm super-sensitive about my situation, and not always open to advice. Gotta relax.

It's hard, though. When I was young, marriage was made to seem a happy inevitability, a final destination where, having found my one true mate, I would dwell in peace. When instead it's a road pitted with doubts, the going can be rough, and I can get moody.

Life may be a highway, but ride it all night long? I need rest areas, exit ramps!

Divorce Title Tangles

Linda Lee — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 16:34:08 -0400

So is Divorce Party a novel about a husband and wife who plan to announce their divorce at a party to celebrate their 35th anniversary?

Or is it a movie comedy to be made by Jennifer Aniston?

Or is Divorce Party a television reality show that will show a husband and wife following divorce, and then ask audience members American Idol-style to vote on which spouse was responsible for the breaking up? The “winning” spouse, the one who is not voted as responsible, will win cash.

The answer is that it’s all three.

The novel, written by Laura Dave, is set in Montauk, at the end of Long Island, and it’s about the end of a marriage. As the book puts it, it looks at “the moment toward the end … when you realize that there is something behind this person’s eyes that you were never able to touch, no matter how hard you tried. You can only guess at it, where things really end … where they really begin…”

A second story line follows the divorcing couple’s son, who is about to introduce his commitment-phobic fiancée, no doubt to be played by Jennifer Aniston in the movie.

The movie? Aniston and her partner, Kristin Hahn, optioned the novel before it was even published. If things move forward, Aniston will star in the film, which will be made at Universal and released in 2010. "We're drawn to stories about people finding their voice and finding their way,” she told Variety.

But she turns 40 next year, so Aniston will either have to play a cougar dating a younger man, or change the script to make it a 40th anniversary party.

And that reality TV show? Not nearly so high brow.

The third pilot has been been shot in Dallas for Divorce Party, which was created by Bobby Goldstein, a former divorce lawyer who is behind such classy WB reality shows as Cheaters: Totally Busted?

When Kids of Divorce Fly Solo - 10 Important Tips

Jill Brooke — Fri, 29 Aug 2008 13:19:15 -0400

It can be fun when it’s you flying solo, but not when it’s your kid. Your heart suffers more turbulence than a plane caught in a Kansas tornado. But divorced moms must face the reality of sending their kids off alone on a plane for a scheduled visit with Dad.

However, don’t labor over it — even on Labor Day weekend. There are several procedures you can follow that are as essential as safety belts and more healthy than popping Valium:

• With the increase of divorced kids flying alone, airlines now make provisions for them. The kids are called UM’s – as in unaccompanied minor. Instead of making their airline reservation via internet, you should call the airlines, since they require information on who will deliver the child and who will pick the child up at the destination.

• The person who delivers the child to the plane and the person who picks the child up must both have photo IDs and cell phones.

• The parent will be given a pass to accompany the child to the departure gate and must stay until the flight takes off. Kids age 5 to 7 can fly nonstop only.

• UM’s require an extra payment – usually around $25 – and this will include the cost of the airline staff watching over them on the flight and ushering them to meet the other parent at arrival gate. If there are two kids flying solo, it will be only one fee.

• Prepare your child by calling it an adventure and spell out all the procedures so that he or she will know what to expect.

• Don’t rely on Jetblue’s TV screens to occupy them the whole time. Just in case, send them off with coloring books, cards, and a few games.

• Pack an extra snack because, just like you, they may sneer at airline food – if they are offered any. Hungry kids are cranky kids. You don’t want passengers to howl in protest.

'Summer'-izing: Make the Most of It While You Can

Debbie Nigro — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 13:18:32 -0400

OK — it's the dreaded last week of summer...and we all hang on to it like a dog to the pant leg of a postman. This might be a good thing since everyone I know has gained weight since it began.

What's up with that?

Bloated single moms everywhere are racing around getting their kids ready for school. Booting up for back to school is "tums"-ultuous when you're a single mom. It's a frenzy of exhausting checklists, kids need everything, and you are a human money pit.

Going away, if you can swing it or a few more rule-free days, is a good thing...staying home and puttering around is also a good thing.

There's nobody to do business with...or make an impression upon.

Nobody cares...well almost nobody.

If people owe you money, you cant get a hold of them.

If you owe people money, they're away and you buy a few days.

The mythical end of summer will confuse you next week because you pull back the curtain and it will still look and feel exactly like summer, only you are not supposed to be having fun anymore.

So — whatever is going on with you this week, make sure you try to maximize any and every last window of opportunity of guilt-free summer pleasure for yourself.

You know you deserve it, and goodness knows next week is going to feel a lot different...even if it looks the same.

The Passive-Aggressive Husband: What's He Really Saying?

Megan Thomas — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 12:00:22 -0400

I took introduction to psychology in college so I have a general idea of what the term "passive aggressive" means. It wasn't until recently, however, that I really got to witness it in person.

Apparently my husband has decided that this is his newest way to complain about the things I do without actually complaining about them.

Here are a couple of examples, which could easily be compiled with a slew of others for a "passive-aggressive husband reference manual":

The other day my kids and I went out to lunch with a couple of other moms and their kids. I don't eat out for lunch all the time, and this was an impromptu get-together. I had packed my husband a lunch that morning for him to take to work so he had leftovers. When he gets home he tells me this: "The guys at work said, 'Let me get this straight...she gets to eat out for lunch and you have to eat leftovers? Man, that's messed up!' Ha-ha!"

Translation: He's ticked off that I got to eat out and he had to eat leftovers.

My husband recently did some volunteer work with the guys at church that involved a lot of physical labor and when he got home he said, "Bob told me he was so glad that his wife and daughter were out of town because after we finished up he was going to go home and take a long nap without interruption. Ha-ha!"

Translation: He wants to take a nap but knows that we already agreed that he would take the kids so I could get some work done. He's hoping I suggest he takes a long nap and I'll just stay up until two in the morning working.

How do I know it's all passive aggressive? These comments don't even go with the flow of conversation. They come out of nowhere, and he gives a long pause afterward as though he's waiting for me to fall to my knees and beg his forgiveness for going out to eat with my friends/not offering him a four hour nap/whatever else I do that ticks him off.

The British Are Divorcing! The British Are Divorcing!

Naomi Dunne — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 11:44:32 -0400

It seems like every time I turn around, I’m writing about rising divorce rates in the UK. More people got divorced leading up to the holidays. Then more people got divorced on the first Monday back to work after the New Year. Valentine’s Day was a tragedy for marriage. And now summer holidays are taking their toll on the institution of marriage in merry old England.

After divorce experts warned us that the divorce rate would be at its highest in January, July divorce petitions slashed expectations at 150% of last year’s numbers. Why the spike? Apparently vacations are stressful. Really, really stressful.

The spokesman for one London lawyers office says couples are “thrown together for two weeks solid with a spouse they wouldn’t normally see for more than a few hours a day. Throw in alcohol, travel delays, bickering kids and a hotel or apartment that’s tiny or not up to scratch, and it all becomes a pressure cooker just waiting to blow.”

Maybe if they’d known they’d be getting divorced afterwards, they wouldn’t have splurged for the couples massage. One commentator on the website for The Sun, known as Lolly1010, summed it up nicely, I think. “If a marriage can't survive a 2 week holiday, it's not very strong in the first place.”

Experts predict August or September are only going to get worse, so watch this space. If the divorce rate keeps skyrocketing we’ll start seeing divorces between people who weren’t married in the first place.

Click here for more.

Sarah's Housewarming Party

Sarah Farthing — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 00:14:28 -0400

After 10 months in my new apartment, I finally had a housewarming party! Sheesh. It took me long enough. But as soon as the first guest stepped over the threshold, I knew this was the moment my "new apartment" was finally my home.

Little did I know my friends had planned a surprise ending...

For more of Sarah's story, click here.

The Divorced Women's Olympics

Debbie Nigro — Wed, 20 Aug 2008 06:34:39 -0400

Imagine? YOU could take The Gold every time!

Inspired by the Olympics and delusional that I somehow can still get my body to look like those women's volleyball contenders, I was thinking...

There are so many things a divorced gal becomes proficient at by necessity — by herself — that there should be some way to get credit for it. Just maybe there should be some kind of Divorced Women's Olympics.

There would be global contenders.

Here are some divisions in which any one of you could take a medal:

Grocery Power Lifting

The Financial Balance Beam

She-Man Provider Competition

Single Mom Relay

Solo Wrestling With Yourself

Set the Table Tennis

Laundry Volleyball

Extreme Soul Searching

My favorite? The Divorce Decathalon!

"Heptathlon" actually is the proper word for the female version of this track and field competition, made up of these seven events: 100 meter hurdles, high jump, shot put, 200 meter sprint, long jump, javelin throw, and the 800 meter run.

As we all know, this sounds like a typical day BEFORE lunch.

The final event would be the "Late Life Luge"...jump on, hang on, close your eyes, say a prayer, take the ride of your life and hope you make it to the finish line in one piece.

The last one might take some extra practice but since you've got nothing to lose — you might as well Go For The Gold!

Celebrating My "Alone Time"... Alone

Joy Rose — Tue, 19 Aug 2008 12:00:55 -0400

In my ongoing quest to spend a month happily living solo, I decided to spring for some fresh, fanciful fare.

I've just finished reading French Women Don't Get Fat. It seems the French drink a lot of champagne and that, somehow, ingesting quality ingredients keeps their women from over eating.

I scored beautiful local goat cheese at the Hastings Farmers Market and picked up a lovely pink Brut for under $40.

I don't usually drink alcohol while I'm alone, but I'm in survival mode and the kids don't get back until after Labor Day.

Popping the cork and pouring the Brut into a pink marabou martini glass, purchased at the TJ Maxx bargain rack, life seems sort of okay for the moment.

This was not a reward for spending a month in isolation. I don't need a reward, because I know that a workshop or trip to the Omega Institute is coming up.

However, I'm convinced that every night I spend alone is going to help me be a stronger person.

Admittedly, as I'm having these thoughts, there is a strong craving for a Valium or something else that will make me feel numb.

I used to feel desperate if I didn't have a man in my life. I still feel desperate, but when I compare the relative peace of my little blue house in Hastings to my married life in the mansion, with my over-the-top, angry ex-spouse, I'm satisfied with my decision.

But when I think of the things I gave up to be a hermit, I want to cry. Family and friends from the last 20 years are gathering on Fire Island this month to swim, laugh, and sail together.

Flirting with single guys, and sometimes even the husbands of my friends, chatting with the hunky lifeguards, and making the rounds to Saltaire, Fair Harbor, and Kismet were all part of my married life.

Feeling popular, rich, and loved seemed ingredients for a perfect life. But they're not.

Debbie's Weekend Guilt-O-Meter

Debbie Nigro — Sat, 16 Aug 2008 07:42:48 -0400

OK, it's a weekend...and my "Guilt-O-Meter" will begin to rise from LIGHTLY GUILTY on Friday night to HOLY MOTHER OF GUILT by Sunday night.

Here how's it works:

Friday:

It all starts mid-Friday for this single mom, with thoughts of weekend "possibilities". It's a running battle of Guilt vs. Pleasure, and it's played out like a really sadistic game show.

Beginning about midday, thoughts of the approaching night swirl through my head... Friends? Romance? Exercise? Romance? Family? Romance?

If I wait too long to make a decision it gets dark out, and I get pooped out.

But Friday night is supposed to be the start of a breather and, with a little extra caffeine, I can gear up for pleasure. Unless it happens to storm, my hair’s too dirty, or I'm too fat...all of which even I can mostly get past these days with my new free wheeling thinking.

If I miss the caffeine, I land on the couch.

If I make it out, I am usually already guilty when I wake up on Saturday.

Saturday:

The GUILT-O-METER starts at "PARTLY GUILTY" the minute I open my eyes and steadily rises. As I zoom around doing errands , thoughts of Needs vs Desires thrash around in my head.

The Needs: things like a car wash, household fixits, food shopping, laundry, manicure, etc., etc., etc. are all pitted directly against…

The Desires: laying at a pool, going on a boat, buddy time with my daughter, and lust. No time for sitting down here. Whichever I choose, I start feeling guilty about not doing the other.

Saturday Night:

The GUILT-O-METER holds steady at "MOSTLY GUILTY" because there's no way I completed everything on the Needs list earlier, and I am either out thinking screw it or I am home on the couch passed out.