Just.Say.Yes.

So about 2 years ago there was this guy I saw across the way at a pool party. He was mysterious. He had this presence about him that instantly drew me to him. And I couldn't figure out how I was going to get some face time.

As I sat on the edge of the pool, feet dangling in the water with the other girls, I casually asked my friend who he was. She raved about how sweet this man of mystery was and how much she loved having him around.

Hm.

I'm a pretty forward girl. If I see something I want, I'm usually not afraid to ask for it. But this time, things were different.

I hid behind my sunglasses and pretended not to be watching his every move. I also pretended my placement both in the pool and later at the dinner table wasn't strategic in getting directly in his line of vision.

Here's something you need to know men ... we know you notice us. Why? Because we're smart enough to make sure you don't have any other options. It's a game we, as a species, have mastered. And we're proud of it.

When you pretend not to notice us, we abort mission and forget you even exist. When you notice us, pretend to be interested, and then don't ask us out ... we get nasty.

I digress.

This guy was incredible. He had a quiet confidence that actually made me a little weak in the knees. He made me feel comfortable in my own skin. He told me about his love for filmmaking, cooking and hosting people at his home. And to be honest, I had already chalked the day up to a huge success.

Why? Because for one full afternoon, I had kept his attention. And it was nice. But I had very low expectations for this to go beyond the allotted time of the party.

Until that fateful afternoon, no one had asked me out since I had moved to L.A. Did you catch that? No one. I was fresh meat that had already expired by that point. I was nearing my one-year anniversary of being an Angelina and another wave of hot, talented transplants had already infiltrated our city and into the line of vision of my prospects.

So you must imagine my surprise when he walked up to me at the end of the pool party and asked for my number and invited (or told) me to join him for dinner at his place the next weekend.

If I were given more time to think about it, I would probably have danced around the issue because ... well ... I didn't know how to accept an invitation. I didn't have much practice with that part. Usually, I hung out with people in a group long enough that everyone else just told you you were dating and that was it.

But he asked. And that was far more than anyone else had the balls to do. So I said, yes.

Men: Ask.Her.Out.
Women: Just.Say.Yes.

And like my friend Jason mentioned, this doesn't have to be 'the one.' Probably isn't. But how sucky would it be if you missed out on the possibility just because you chickened out?

So. This week ladies ... if a guy has the guts to ask you out and they're not a creeper ... just.say.yes.

Stop waiting for the douche bag with the cool hair and fancy clothes to approach you to ask for anything more than a pen to write the bimbo's number down who was in line before you. There's probably a guy across the way that notices you and is about to ask you to go on one of the best dates you've ever been on. And I think he deserves a chance.

Here's to the brave men out there who ask.her.out ... and the women who just.say.yes.

risky business

if you don't read seth godin's blog ... you should. he's brilliant. the marketing guru himself has been a staple in my daily blog readings for years. as of late, i haven't had the chance to read much of anything and decided to play a little blog roulette for one last bout of validation that some risky decisions i'm about to make are sane to those who i admire. thanks seth for reminding me that actual risks are what set a part those who actualize their potential and those who don't. from the man himself:

Apparent risk and actual risk

There are people who I will never encounter in a restaurant.

That's because when these people go out for dinner, they go to chain restaurants. These are the tourists in New York who seek out the familiar Olive Garden instead of walking down the street to Pure.

That's fine. It's a personal choice.

But it got me thinking about the difference between apparent and actual risk, and how that choice affects just about everything we do.

The concierge at a fancy hotel spends her time helping tourists and business travelers avoid apparent risk. She'll book the boring, defensible, consistent tour, not the crazy guy who's actually a trained architect and a dissident. She'll recommend the restaurant from Zagats, not from Chowhound.

Apparent risk is what keeps someone working at a big company, even if it's doing layoffs. It feels safer to stay there than to do the (apparently) insanely risky thing and start a new venture.

Apparent risk is what gets someone who is afraid of plane crashes to drive, even though driving is more dangerous.

Apparent risk is avoiding the chance that people will laugh at you and instead backing yourself into the very real possibility that you're going to become obsolete or irrelevant.

When things get interesting is when the apparently risky is demonstrably safer than the actually risky. That's when we sometimes become uncomfortable enough with our reliance on the apparent to focus on the actual. Think about that the next time they make you take off your shoes at the airport.

26

twenty six is an odd age. an age where you're supposed to know what you want to do when you grow up and be on the trajectory of accomplishing 'what you want to do when you grow up.' an age where the 30-somethings who have the job you want when you grow up won't give you the necessary responsibilities to move forward because you're 'still a kid.' not that i have experience with that or anything.

humph.

but it's also an age when ... at least for me ... some things have really begun to matter. like other people. like things other than getting to the corner office faster than you ... oh ... and being the youngest to get there.

twenty six to me has been profound for many reasons. but i think it all culminated with a proposal nearly six months ago that publicly stated i care about something ... someone ... else more than myself. and it was a week ago today, in my twenty sixth year, that i realized plans change. you don't always get what you want, what you've always dreamed of, what you hoped for in life. that sometimes life isn't fair nor does it often make sense.

at twenty six, i finally understand what it means to risk everything.

and at twenty six, one of my high school classmates knows what it's like to lose her husband and the father of their two-year-old daughter, who also happened to be in my graduating class, to a demented criminal set to ambush police officers in my hometown.

it is in this year that i realize nothing is for sure. that the dreams i have with vince are not guaranteed, but that i have a choice to risk it anyway ... in the event that everything does work out the way we imagined. i have a choice to live intentionally. to love passionately. and to risk freely. and suddenly, the corner office seems rather existential.

i don't know why this particular loss created such an emotional wake in my soul. maybe it's the fact that i can now imagine what it must be like to lose the man you love. to lose the dream that 'we' will raise a beautiful child and now accept that 'i' will. that 'we' will no longer paint the shingles, plan vacations, buy a new couch, but 'i' will go on to do those things without you. because apparently life goes on no matter what devastation it may bring your way.

maybe that's it.

either way ... it woke me up. it reminded me that i don't have time to cower to the what ifs and the selfish ambition to try so hard to do life by myself. it reminded me that you i can't always have an escape plan. it reminded me that i need community ... a real community that if ever 'we' became 'i,' i would not be alone. because whatever happens to us ... to me ... is their problem to.

and there is something very profound in that. not comforting. not warm and fuzzy. but very raw and freeing.

if anything, brian and sarah, your love for each other will forever resonate in my heart. it will serve as a reminder that today i have a choice to make each morning that i wake up. to either show up completely or hold back in fear of the unexpected that may (or may not) be lurking around the corner.

so. twenty six. for sarah, it will be the year that changed her life forever. the year that brought an unexplainable amount of pain and suffering that most people will never experience in their lifetime ... let alone in their mid twenties. and in that grief, this twenty-six-year-old will go on to say that she learned love is stronger than death ... which undoubtedly go on to be described as the catalyst that changed her life forever.

thank you both for living a compelling life. and sweet natalie, carry on your parent's legacy of faith, hope and love ... it's a story worth living.