There Are 10 Things Not To Say To A Woman

Some things shouldn’t be said to a woman.

It’s true! I have my list and I will share it shortly, but first some startling facts.

If you Google “10 things not to say to a woman” there are 72,300,000 results. That’s insane! That number, just in case you’re not wearing your eyeglasses, is 72 million plus. Why is it so important to know what not to say to a woman? I decided to peruse a few of the lists online just to gauge them against my personal findings. I must have looked at a couple million sites, or at least a couple dozen, and let me tell you, they don’t even come close to the truth.

It’s like a computer decided on Saturday night it had nothing better to do, so it sent little bots scurrying across the web, crawling every site they could find pertaining to women, and came up with things that can best be described as “Artificial Intelligence”.

I went to my wife, who is a “woman” by the way, and said “What do you think about these things that can’t be said to a woman, that I found on the web?”

After a 10 minute “discussion” about “How can you categorize people?” and “No two women are alike!” and “This is so stereotypical.” and “I’m sure a man wrote this…” she started correcting the list. That brought me to the first point on my list.

1) Please don’t tell my wife I have a list!
That’s right. Don’t ever tell a woman you have a list. Of any kind. They love to correct lists. You’ll hear things like,
“This doesn’t even belong on this list.”
Or “Move this down to # 8.
Or “Don’t say 10 Things…Make it 12 Things”.
Or “What about…” Any list will be wrong and need correcting.

2) “Whatever”.
This one word has caused me more “near death experiences” than Indiana Jones and James Bond combined. I don’t know if it’s how I say it, or when I say it, or just saying it. I can tell you, I have removed the word from my conversational repertoire. I only use its written form. Unless I’m writing to…people…who…uh…don’t appreciate the word…then I don’t write it either.

3) “Relax”.
This word seems to have the opposite effect of its meaning. The word “relax” to me has grown into a pictogram. Any time I am about to say “relax” the picture of a guy sticking a chair into the face of a lion pops into my mind. I see the lion eat the chair…and the guy…and I refrain from saying it. This may not work for you but it does for me. Try your own methods to see what works.

4) “It’s up to you”.
I cannot tell you how much weight I’ve lost with this phrase. I still haven’t been able to beat this one but I’m working on it. It’s like my brain is in my little, happy place and I hear the question, “Where are we going to eat?” Before I think, the words come out of my mouth, “It’s up to you”. Once I utter this dreaded phrase, I silently scream the Homer Simpson great, “DOPE!” I know instantly what I’ve done and there is no going back. I’m in the middle of “Frigid River” and I have to make it to the other side without drowning or freezing to death. Luckily for me, I’m a good swimmer…but still losing weight.

5) “We both need to join The Biggest Loser”.
I plead insanity on this one.
First of all it was a joke, but I still plead insanity. Also, I was heavily medicated and didn’t really know what I was saying. Lastly, it had been a really long time since I had eaten and my blood-sugar was low and I kind of like the way it feels when an iron skillet accidentally bumps into the side of my face. ‘Nuf said.

6) “Is it okay if I dance with (insert name here)?”
This is the same as asking, “Is it okay if I shoot myself in the foot?”
“Is it okay if I sleep on the couch for two weeks?”
“Is it okay if I watch Hell freeze over?”
“Is it okay if I take a long walk off of a short pier?”
“Is it okay if I bang my head against the wall?” I think you understand this one.

7) “What is wrong with you?”
Even if nothing was wrong before I asked the question…IT IS NOW. This is the same as waving a red flag in front of a bull. Although I understand a bull is color-blind, my wife can see the darned thing…and that it’s red…and that it’s waving in her face. I mean, really, this is the kind of question/innuendo you just don’t wave in front of anyone. Especially if you ever want to eat solid food again.

8) “How long until you’re ready?”
Now this one is difficult for some people (men) to comprehend. It’s a simple question regarding time. It should merit a simple answer…again regarding time. I have, however, found that time is the farthest thing from my wife’s mind when I pose this question. I mean the answers I get are really off subject as far as I’m concerned.
What does “Forget it, I’m not going” have to do with time?
How does “Do you want me to look good or not” relate to time?
Why would you say “You’re in front of the TV” when asked this question?
I have removed this question from the play list. I now simply make a loud noise with the keys for a few minutes and then head to the car. I usually don’t have to wait too long in the car. I have a nice library of CD’s to choose from, so the time goes quickly.

9) “Do you have to yell?”
Never, and I repeat never ask this question unless you want to raise the volume 20 decibels. It’s like having a remote control for my wife.
Loud conversation…ask this question…+20 decibels…
”You think I’m loud”, etc., etc., etc…ask this question…+20 decibels…
”Oh I’m not yelling yet”, etc., etc., etc…ask this question…+20 decibels…
”I’m about to start yelling”, etc., etc., etc…ask this question…+20 decibels…
”Now I’m yelling!”
Actually, this one is my fault. Well, actually all of them are my fault, but I do this one on purpose. I mean…I used to.

10) “You look…fine.”
First of all, never say you look fine. It’s almost like saying “You’ll do”. You need to put some meaning into this answer.
Yes, it is an answer. To one of the most dreaded questions in a man’s life.“How do I look?”
Have some answers that you’ve worked out in advance to use for this one. The planning is well worth it. It could save your night, your week, your life. Here are a few to consider.
“That color looks great on you.”Notice the reference to color. My wife loves it when I notice she wears colors.
“Wow, you really look beautiful with your hair like that.”PLEASE make sure she is wearing a NEW hairstyle when using this one.
“You look wonderful, tonight.” Make sure it’s night, otherwise use “today”.
Above all be honest.
Secondly, I want to call your attention to the three dots in the “You look…fine.” Answer. This indicates a pause. NEVER pause during this answer. It denotes dishonesty and a woman can tell if Santa Claus is lying. Don’t do it. As I said earlier, be honest…it matters.

Well, there you have my 10 list.

It isn’t real. It’s not about my wife. It’s not about women. It’s not about men. It’s about all of us. All of us want honesty. All of us deserve honesty. The reason there are 72,300,000 pages with lists about what not to say to women, or what to say to women, is because communication is so very important to us as human beings.

Communication can build a relationship or destroy a relationship. Communication can build a family or destroy a family. It can build a community or destroy a community. It can build a nation or destroy a nation.

The next time you don’t know what to say to someone, don’t Google it to find out what the "experts" say. Take a moment, look inside yourself, be honest and communicate…honestly.

It matters...honestly.

Keep Believing…

Bille

I'm An Ex-Hummus Bigot

I'm an Ex-Hummus Bigot It's true! I was. I really was.

Okay now, part of my "12 Step Program" is promptly admitting I was wrong! I'm not trying to make light of anything, especially something as successful as the "12 Step Program".

Anyway here's my story. All my life I hated Hummus. I don't mean I didn't like Hummus. I mean I HATED Hummus. I didn't want it near me. Not on my plate. Not on my table. Not even at the same salad bar. Keep that stinking, horrible Hummus away from me. It's not even American! How can it be any good? It's foreign. Nothing foreign can be any good!

I know, how stupid.

I said this is part of my "admitting I was wrong" step.

People would offer me Hummus. No thank you, I don't EEEATTT Hummus.

"But it's so good." I said I don't EEEATTT Hummus!

"Just smell it. It's so good. Here taste it." I would fend them off with the expertise of a Hummus martial arts expert. Counter-blocking every Hummus assault. Head-bobbing to miss the Hummus jabs. Dancing around the table to tire-out the Hummus attacks. Bruce Lee would have been proud of how I ducked to miss the flying, Hummus-laced pita chips hurled my way by a Hummus-loving mob. Try as they may, they could not get that awful Hummus near my mouth.

My whole life I had successfully avoided the horrific stuff and I was not about to give in, no matter the amount of pressure from the Hummus Lobby.

Now, Garbanzo Beans, that’s another story. I can't get enough of them. I just love Garbanzo Beans. I love them in every way. They're the right size, just right to get several in a bite. They're the right color. They smell right. They even sound right...GAR BAN ZO BEENZ. How could they be any better?

I wanted Garbanzo Beans in my salad. I wanted Garbanzo Beans on my plate. I wanted Garbanzo Beans for every meal. Okay, maybe not every meal but it's hard to express the depth of my love for Garbanzo Beans. I really love Garbanzo Beans.

No one had to force me to buy Garbanzo Beans...I love them.

No one had to force me to eat Garbanzo Beans...I love them.

No one had to force me to want Garbanzo Beans...I love them.

No one tried to shove Garbanzo Beans down my throat…except me.

Fast forward 25 years. I'm in my pantry and my wife asks me to get the can of Chick Peas while I'm in there. I pick-up the Chick Peas on my way out and begin reading the can as I walk to the island counter.

My eyes scanned the label. Blah, blah, blah, Chick Peas. Blah, blah, blah, recipe. Blah, blah, blah, Garbanzo Beans. Blah, blah, blah, Hummus. Blah, blah, blah, HUH?

Chick Peas? Garbanzo Beans? Recipe? Hummus?

What the…

My pulse began escalating. My breathing became more difficult. My vision began narrowing down to a small strip of focus the size of the label on the can.

“Concentrate!” “You must concentrate!” “What does that say?”

Blah, blah, blah, Chick Peas. Blah, blah, blah, recipe. Blah, blah, blah, Garbanzo Beans. Blah, blah, blah, Hummus.

Oh crap!

My wife asked what was wrong.

I began fumbling and stuttering and muttering some incoherent words about wasting my whole life and why didn’t I know and how could this be.

She said, “What are you talking about?”

As I collapsed into the barstool I said, “This…this…this can says Chick Peas are Garbanzo Beans.”

“Yes”.

“…And it has a recipe for…” I swallowed hard, “Hummus”.

“Yes”.

“What…what…what does it mean?”

“Well Idiot”, that’s her cute little term of endearment for me, “it means Chick Peas and Garbanzo Beans are the same thing! AND” she paused for great dramatic effect,

“THAT’S WHAT HUMMUS IS MADE OF!”

I sat on that barstool in stunned silence, contemplating the meaning of life relative to this new revelation for what must have been months… or at least ten minutes.

I didn’t know what to do. I was confused. I went to the nearest store and began tearing through the Hummus section, reading every label, scanning the ingredients and there it was.

Hummus is made from Garbanzo Beans!

I went and got a basket and quickly filled it with unneeded groceries just to hide the one container of Hummus I was going to buy.

Outside now, I ran to the car as fast as the filled basket would go. I quickly threw the groceries in the back and sat down in the front seat with the Hummus and a pita chip.

“Here goes” I thought as I lifted the Hummus to my mouth, apprehensive but strangely anxious.

The moment it hit the tiny taste buds covering my tongue, my car became filled with a warm, glowing light and I knew my life would never be the same.

The warm, glowing light faded as the car parked in front of me pulled away, but I still knew my life would never be the same. I was no longer a Hummus bigot. I had experienced an epiphany. You can’t be sure if you hate a food…if you haven’t tried it!

If I didn’t really hate Hummus, but only thought I did, maybe there were other foods I was falsely prejudiced against. Maybe Cranberry Sauce isn’t nasty after all. Maybe Sushi won’t kill you. Maybe Caviar is worth the money.

I soon fell in love with Artichoke Hearts. I had a weekend encounter with Oysters Rockefeller. I am head-over-heels for Lamb with mint jelly. Now, turkey without Cranberry Sauce is like…peanut butter without fried bananas…yeah I tried that too.

I found out just because I always “thought something” didn’t necessarily make it true. Life is like that. So many times we have preconceived notions about this or that, but if we would take the time to experience life, we would find out sometimes we’re wrong about the way we think.

This isn’t just true about food. It’s the same with jobs, and things, and people, and relationships. We need to set our preconceived notions aside and look for the truth. Sometimes we have the wrong information. It doesn’t matter how we got the wrong information. It doesn’t matter how long we’ve believed it. It doesn’t matter why we started believing it. What matters is the truth. That’s all, the truth.

So now I have a list. “Things I Thought I Hate.” I’m going through the list one-by-one trying to find out what other great things I’ve been missing. I'm determined to live life to the fullest, and smell all the Hummus along the way.

Life is great...experience it!

On a recent trip to Mexico City I did confirm I was right about Pancitas.

YUK!

Keep Believing...

Bille