How Phil Lesh Met His Wife

Online dating certainly isn't the only way to meet Mr. or Miss Right. I often advise people to just be friendly everywhere they go, whether it's to a bar or the dry cleaners.

Apparently this technique paid off for Phil Lesh, the cutish bassist from the Grateful Dead. Here's how he describes how he met his wife in his very excellent book, Searching for the Sound: My Life with the Grateful Dead:

"For some time, I'd been eating my breakfast at a little place in San Rafael (where I'd moved after leaving Fairfax): the Station Cafe, owned by old friends, Mark and his wife, Karen. One morning just before Halloween (during the six-week break between Europe 2 and our East Coast tour), I was sitting at the counter there, gloomily muttering mindrot into a handheld voice recorder I'd brought in Edinburgh. My breakfast arrived, brought in by my regular waitress, Jill, a slim young woman with warm brown eyes whom I'd gotten to know slightly over recent months. Without thinking (or even saying thank you) I pushed the record button, said, 'And here's Jill's phone number,' and held up the little machine for her to respond. After a startled glance, as if she'd never really seen me before, she clearly enunciated a number into the recorder --one that I knew (and she knew that I knew) was the number of the cafe where we were sitting--and finished with a little smile, as if to say, 'Your move.' I muttered something like 'nice save' or 'better luck next time' as I forced a smile and turned to my breakfast. But after that I kept thinking that she was looking at me a little differently than before. Not that I looked like much of a prize, thank you very much, with my booze-for-breakfast habits, puffy face, and thirty pounds of beer belly."

You'll be glad to know that Phil gave up drinking a long time ago. From his account, he and Jill remain in love and have been married for over two decades. They have two sons.

Talk About Objectifying Yourself

Seen at a Memorial Day barbecue: An attractive blonde 17-year-old wearing a 'FUTURE MILF' t-shirt.

I wonder if people would have been so relaxed about it if it had been a 'FUTURE MWLF" t-shirt (by that I mean, Mother Who Likes to...' instead "Mother I'd Like to...").

Somehow I doubt it.

Dating Disasters Undone

Loved this story that arrived today from Jeannette Maw in her Get What You Want ezine:

I rarely meet a client that doesn't experience some sort of struggle, somewhere along the way to their dream come true. Even - or rather, especially - those appearing in the Success Spotlight do a great job of getting past the funk when things go "wrong."

Diana's proven herself an expert at managing the funk. Lately she's manifesting love, and finds herself with one potentially great guy after another. But each time, whether it's a no-chemistry conversation, mention of an existing wife, or a date who regularly forgets his wallet - she found herself with one "frog" after another.

(It's interesting to note Diana's story is that she's known for having awful first dates. Great entertainment for girlfriends; not so good for the love life.)

Then her luck changed. (If we believed in luck.)

An intro to a guy who fit every detail on her list: funny, handsome, easy to talk to, successful in his field, interested in her and great mutual chemistry. Before their first official date, Diana invested lots of energy in imagining things going very well in their future. Which they did, right up until he invited her over for a sleepover at the conclusion of date #1.

Which for Diana meant there was no date #2. This is where many would throw in the towel, reinforcing their story about how impossible it is to find love these days.

Certainly she had moments (maybe even hours) of despair. But like any good rodeo queen would, Diana got back on the horse. She found her way to thoughts that kept her out of Funkville for long. She made up good meanings about what her past experiences were. And kept an eye to a happy future.

You know how this ends, right?

No, you don't! (Sorry, trick question.) Because this stuff never ends! Right now Diana is too busy to email with updates, since she was swept off her feet less than a week later by someone in her line of work who encompasses just what she wanted in her next guy.

And yes, our "happily ever after" might last a few days or weeks or decades, but what's important is that we enjoy the journey, right? To know that things unfold in our best interest, and that it only gets better as time goes on. As we think, so shall it be. :)

Diana, yoo hoo!! You out there?! Way to set the example for releasing the struggle and getting back to good. You go, girlfriend!

Pole Dancing As the Key to Happiness

Natalie Morales of Today revealed in a report this morning that housewives are gathering in living rooms across America to enjoy tropical drinks and explore the magic of pole dancing.

I think I'll stick with my book club.

How They Met

Just back from Massachusetts, where I visited my grammar school and post-college roommate and her husband. She's a nurse, he's a cardiologist, and they met while in the employ of Booth Memorial Hospital (now known as New York Hospital-Queens). Both my daughters were born there.

Over the weekend, we had fun eating, drinking, and discussing politics. Cathy and I watched her son score three hits in a baseball game, before going to Barnes & Noble (where I bought Kurt Vonnegut's A Man Without a Country) before hitting a local farm for ice cream.

I took the train to and from Massachusetts. I've been licensed to drive for ages, but I've never liked it. In fact, I hate it. I'd much rather read and stare out a train window. I realize I'm in the minority, judging by all the auto traffic we saw while Cathy drove me to the station this morning.

On the train, I managed to nearly finish one of several books I'd been reading. Unfortunately, I don't put 'em away at home the way I used to; I feel guilty sitting still. I figure I should be doing something else (like folding laundry or stirring tomato sauce), but on a train there's really not much else to do but read and relax.

How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

EFT practitioner Alison Held suggests you start by reading this article.

I suggest that you view the following video for more information, and then download the free how-to manual offered at the end of it:

Don't You Love Being a Woman?

I just received the latest issue of Woman's Day. I only subscribe to this rag because it was one of the few magazines offered in the annual Parent Teacher Organization fundraiser that I didn't already subscribe to.

Every time I find it in my mailbox, I put it aside until I have time to fully savor its condescending tone and out-and-out stupidity.

The cover of the new issue, dated June 19, features 'Summer's Best Party Cake So Easy to Do' (no semicolon required, apparently). Upon seeing it, my 12-year-old exclaimed, "Wow, that looks like one partially-hydrogenated oil fest." Reading the recipe inside didn't disappoint: The thing includes two tubs of vanilla frosting, vats of assorted food coloring, Cocoa Puffs cereal balls, Green Fruit by the Foot, a Gummi ring, and Keebler Bug Bites. (Ever read the label of a Keebler product? Back away from that crap slowly.)

After taking in the list of ingredients, the kid muttered, "That is just one big loaf of death."

The mag also offers a "Summer Survival Guide," which is not, as you might expect, about keeping the family safe from bear attacks on camping trips. According to the subhead, "Who says you can't look dazzling when the mercury climbs?"

Well, since you mention it, the Amazing V was just telling me this afternoon, "You know, Terry, you cannot look dazzling when the mercury climbs."

Good thing I subscribe to Woman's Day to tell me the truth, that I can smooth out thigh and derriere dimples with a massaging hand tool, and that a large-brim hat will not only protect my skin from the sun (I had no idea) but also keep my hair color from turning.

A "Got Milk" ad featuring new parent Mariska Hargitay assures us that, "Motherhood brings fulfillment, and a new focus on getting back into shape." I don't want to disillusion anybody, but "fulfillment" isn't the first word that comes to mind when I think about motherhood. And, yeah, I do love my children and can't imagine life without them. But if I had never given birth, trust me, I'd have found something else to do with my life.

One of the high points of the issue was a short piece entitled, "Sweat to an A-list Playlist," that informs us that "Julianne Moore gets motivated with help from rocker David Bowie." Rocker David Bowie? As if my grandmother who would have been 104-and-a-half in March didn't know who David Bowie is.

Hell, she even knew who Keith Emerson is. Like him, she was a pianist and organist but never shared his compulsion to attack a keyboard with a pocket knife.

Herewith for your viewing and listening pleasure, Rocker David Bowie performing one of my favorites. Merry Christmas.

Um, I mean, Happy Memorial Day.

You Can't Date If You're Dead

Just when I was completely grossed out by the number of cats and dogs killed by tainted food, I find out that humans are even more vulnerable to food contamination than I thought (and I wonder how many people, in the wake of September's Dole spinach debacle, have sworn off greens for life).

After reading this charming bit of information, I threw out fresh new box of Chinese green tea.

My mother died of cancer. My father-in-law is dying of cancer as I write. I don't want to die of cancer. Green tea is supposed to prevent cancer, not cause it, but Chinese imported leaves have been dried with leaded gas fumes.

Stephen Colbert and Bob Deans Slam Us Damn Yankees

Well, not really us Yankees. One hundred years ago, my family didn't live in this country. We were the sort of people Lou Dobbs wants to keep out.

Law of Attraction For the Love of Your Life

Get a free 10-minute Law of Attraction meditation for the happy, healthy love you want when you order Viveca Stone Berry's nicely priced 8 step Fatigue Be Gone program.

I lost a few stubborn pounds and saw normal triglyceride and LDL results (for the first time in four years) after following it. Viveca has just released a new edition, which is nicely priced (did I say that already?) at less than ten dollars. Investing in it entitles you to a bunch of cool bonuses, including the 10-minute Law of Attraction meditation.

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Success In Love Leaves Clues

I once heard some dumb "personality" on TV saying that The New York Times wedding section is the women's equivalent of the sports page for men. She claimed that competitive females scour it to keep score on who made it to the altar before they did.

Well, I don't know any woman who reads it for that reason, but I'll tell you why I do: It's fun to find out how people met and fell in love.

On Sunday, I enjoyed several stories, including Sophia Chaknis and Joseph Levy's. They met just as Sophia's online dating account was about to expire. She had planned to let it lapse and "take the summer off from dating."

On their first evening out together, Joseph ordered calamari.

"I had never been on a date with a guy who had eaten, much less voluntarily eaten, calamari," the bride recalled thinking. She said to him, "I love calamari. I'm going to have to marry you."

And she did.

I also got a kick out of Alexandra Guarnaschelli and Brandon Clark's story. Romance blossomed between them when the groom took a class the bride, a chef, taught about cooking fish.

Dating Tip From a Reader

"I heard a simple little expression that really changed my attitude toward men. I used to cry and get upset all the time over men who treated me poorly...[The expression] goes: 'No boy is worth crying over, and the one who is won't make you cry.' Enough said."

-Leslie

After the VH1 Debacle, He Gives Me Hope

Once upon a time when I was in college, I met a fine, well-built, and handsome fellow. We discovered that his mother and mine taught Religious Ed together years before. They'd remained friends. He and I also became friends and shared a fondness for going out for lunch, discussing politics, and goofing on various professors.

We took a fiction writing workshop together, and I could always count on him to give me an honest (sometimes blistering) opinion on one of my characters, or their behavior (let's put it this way, they didn't believe in the double standard. I learned later that my friend hadn't been sexist; he just didn't believe that people should carry on as if life was a giant episode of Grey's Anatomy).

Our fiction workshop included a man who once served as Editor-in-Chief of the school newspaper and had publicly drawn and quartered me over a piece I'd written lampooning celebrity culture. As this former editor earnestly read his latest story to our class, my friend muttered, "I can see Scatman Crothers playing that role."

This resulted in shoulder-quaking hysteria. We could not stop cackling and snorting and hooting to save our lives, which earned us sharp looks from both the editor and our esteemed professor, William S. Wilson, III (recipient of a Best American Short Stories award in 1975 and the author of Why I Don't Write Like Franz Kafka).

Since then, my friend and I have kept in touch loosely. No romance ever existed between us, and we've since married other people. Yesterday, he responded to my email wishing him a happy birthday by saying he'd recently passed the bar. Fourteen months ago, he and his wife adopted not one--or two--but three girls ranging in age from eight to 10 from Russia.

He attached photos from their baptism, which took place last month.

When women tell me that decent men don't exist, I always think of this guy. He was funny, handsome, smart, and definitely decent. If he exists, surely others like him exist, as well.

Kill Your Television (Before It Kills You)

I happened to stay up the other night, really late, and I put down Searching for the Sound: My Life with the Grateful Dead and turned on the TV, hoping to catch a repeat of The Best Week Ever, which I'd missed on Friday. This turned out to be an unfortunate move.

Instead, I found The Fabulous Life Of: Celebrity Sex, which probably qualifies (after Grey's Anatomy) as the most depressing show in the world. In it, I learned that Penn of Penn & Teller fame once had an S&M room in his apartment, which was converted to a nursery after his daughter, Moxie CrimeFighter was born (yeah, "Moxie CrimeFighter" really is the poor kid's name; it must be great having morons for parents).

I also found out celebrities love vibrators (as long as they're platinum or 24K gold, that is), and that there are plenty of merchants who are willing to discuss with the media who digs what and why.

Check out this sad little detail from the show, which also appears on the VH1 website:

"...a mere plaything compared to the sexy gift David Beckham bestowed upon his posh wife, Victoria. Because nothing says, 'I love you' like a $2 million platinum vibrator with a 10-carat diamond encrusted base linked to a 16-carat diamond necklace-one of only 10 in existence in the entire world."

Gross.

A smarter person would have snapped the TV off at that point, but like any good tragedy, I had a hard time turning away from it. After a 30 minutes (or 60; I really can't remember), I felt oddly bored (and maybe a bit scared, in the case the mental picture of Penn Jillette wearing nipple clamps) by the very idea of sex.

As for Grey's Anatomy, it's flown so far off the rails, it's at the bottom of the ocean. If real people slept around the way they do on that show, they'd be too busy nursing running sores to continue taking on new sex partners.

I, for one, may sue ABC for the murder of millions of my innocent brain cells during the season finale of Grey's Anatomy.

Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert--One Sweet Presidential Ticket

We could do worse. Hell, we've already done worse.

The Law of Attraction, Norman Vincent Peale, and the Grateful Dead

Today's USA Weekend includes an interview with Bernie Siegel, M.D., the renowned author of the classic Love, Medicine & Miracles.

Dr. Siegel, along with Spiritual Literacy: Reading the Sacred in Everyday Life co-author Mary Ann Brussat, lists five books that have inspired legions--and will continue to do so for years to come. "Each generation thinks somebody new is starting the process," says Siegel, "but we keep repeating the wisdom of the sages and ages."

Siegel includes Norman Vincent Peale among those sages and recommends his book, The Power of Positive Thinking . You may already know I'm a big fan of Dr. Peale's; his Positive Imaging is a great primer on the Law of Attraction, especially for those who fear it's New Age or "not of God."

You may also know that I believe the Law of Attraction is key in attracting the love and romance (and every other good thing) you deserve.

After lunch on Tuesday, E. and I popped into the Marble Collegiate Church on 5th and 29th Street, where Peale used to be a pastor. I used to walk past it every single day on my way to work and always meant to stop in but never did. On Tuesday, the Director of Media Relations took us around the lovely old church and gave us its history.

As for my own book recommendations, right now I'm reading Searching for the Sound: My Life with the Grateful Dead. I bought it for Peter for Father's Day 2005, and he loved it.

I never liked The Dead when I was in high school; years later, when I met Peter, his passion for them gave me pause. I'd stepped over hundreds of Dead Heads in Penn Station over the years. Few of them appeared to be on the frequent bather's program.

Peter took me to my first Dead show at Madison Square Garden in 1990, and I 'got' them. They were more than "Casey Jones" and "Shakedown Street" and the crap they kept in constant rotation at WNEW-FM. "Terrapin Station," which I heard for the very first time on April 7, 1991, blew my mind.

I've since become a fan of The Dead, especially Phil Lesh. Aside from the amazing music he makes, he comes off as a generous, kind, and genuinely good man.

Our friend, Mike, made a CD of one of Phil's recent shows (historically, The Dead couldn't care less about their fans recording and distributing their music, although I read that some of Jerry Garcia's heirs aren't thrilled about it).

I had it on yesterday at the gas station while Peter filled his ecologically unfriendly beast with petrol. Phil went into his frequently repeated plea for the crowd to consider organ donation. He added, "Every day I pray for the soul of the young man," whose liver now resides in his body.

Brought tears to my eyes.

Peter has just come back from dropping Child One off at a Bat Mitzvah; the other child and I will see Beauty and the Beast at a birthday party at the Downtown Cabaret Theatre this afternoon.

We'll carpool with the Amazing V and her offspring as soon as they get home from church.

A Clear Sign He's Not a Good Prospect

Today's Connecticut Post states that almost three of every four battered women report that their animals are beaten, killed, or threatened by their abusers. Three out of four!

During my early 20s, a guy kept coming around who had a habit of throwing small animals against walls. I refused to date him, and for the life of him, he couldn't understand why.

About 12 years later, I read in the New York Daily News that he'd stabbed his latest girlfriend to death, rolled her up in a rug, and left her on the side of the Clearview Expressway.

Yeah, he's in prison.

Losers like this are more prevalent than you'd think: When I was a teenager, a local high school coach bragged to me that, as a kid, he liked to flush kittens down toilets and watch them scramble for their lives. After I had my first daughter, Peter and I met a guy who crowed about befriending a pig ("I had the thing eating out of the palm of mah hand"), and then putting a bullet to its head.

Sure, I was eating plently of ham sandwiches myself at the time, but the story--and the glee with which the jerk told it--made me kind of sick. Oh, and by the way, this guy always had a girlfriend.

It may seem like common sense, but I'm going to say it anyway: Animal abusers don't make good boyfriend material.

Overheard At the Big Y Supermarket in Monroe, Connecticut

Man to three-year-old daughter in book and toy aisle: "Hey, stop touching that. Those toys aren't for you! Those toys are for boys!"

What I Learned Today

If you eat meat after not having eaten it for three months, you will wake up the next morning looking and feeling like crap.

Yesterday, I showed up at a monthly luncheon I'd given up in January and consumed various meat products with a limp salad in a chemical dressing. Between the food and the boring speeches, I've concluded that I'm better off using the time to write.

Overheard In Manhattan

Yesterday I met E. for lunch to celebrate my birthday (which was April 26th. Welcome back my friends, to the show that never ends). We went for sushi in the Flatiron district, in a restaurant conveniently located near two buildings where I once toiled in the publishing and advertising industries.

Our tiny table put us shoulder-to-shoulder with two publishing people in their 20s and early 30s, who were meeting for the first time. After the preliminaries ("Did you have a hard time finding the place?" and establishing they both had parents who grew up in the Bronx), the elder asked the younger, "Do you really think TV sells books?"

The younger responded with an anecdote about a book she'd worked on that had been featured on Today (I'd seen the segment but didn't buy the book).

Then the elder went in for the kill:

-How old are you?
-Do you have a boyfriend?
-How long have you been seeing him?
-Do you think you'll get married?

Such a strange line of questioning, particularly for a first meeting! Particularly for a business meeting. Trust me, the two guys sitting to my right did not mention their love lives. After having a laugh about one guy's two-and-a-half hour commute to Manhattan, they talked about getting customers, keeping customers, and making money. At no point did Wally inquire of Sam, "Do you have a girlfriend? Do you think you'll marry her?"

And I doubt that if Wally were lunching with the younger woman (who we learned will be 26 next month), he'd ever subject her to questions about plans for marriage. He would have been pegged a creep.

At one point, the older woman (who could not have been older than 31, if that) lamented that she wished she'd taken more time with her wedding. I'm not sure if she meant the event or the union.

Perhaps, when she was just a tender sprout, some woman (or gang of women) made her sit through inquisitions about her plans for marriage. Maybe she couldn't take the heat. Maybe she jumped too soon.

I really wish women would stop pressuring each other about this crap. Half the married couples in the world are bored out of their minds, so what's the hurry? Better to take your time and marry a guy you can have a laugh with.

Later on, E. and I popped into El Rio Grande for margaritas and spotted columnist Liz Smith. She's over 80, but you'd never know it. She looks exactly like her picture.

Fix a Broken Heart

Check it out, and when you're finished, download the free manual.

According to EFT practitioner Alison Held :

"As a single woman, I know the emotional challenges that come with breaking up with a boyfriend. These traumatic events can impact future relationships and hold us back from being the powerful women that we are! EFT works wonders on resolving past hurts by using the power of forgiveness, love and more.

It is my recommendation that we forgive anyone who may have done us wrong in the past yet many times we aren’t ready or willing to forgive these people. Luckily, in using EFT there are ways to work around any resistance related to forgiveness.

Also, when we notice repetitive negative patterns in our relationships or find ourselves drifting off and thinking about past lovers this may be a signal that our emotional body needs our undivided attention. I have found EFT to be a quick, simple way to aid in our emotional discomfort and release some of the negative stuff that we are holding onto. I always encourage everyone to give it a try on their own, with a friend, or by hiring a practitioner because there is absolutely nothing you can lose!"

I've had great success using EFT for a variety of issues. Get the free manual and decide for yourself.

Faith For Love and Romance

"By believing passionately in something that does not yet exist, we create it."
-Nikos Kazantzakis

Online Dating Works

According to Karl Fisch, one out of every eight couples who got married last year in the U.S. met online.

For more fascinating facts, check out this video.

glumbert.com - Shift Happens

Self-Acceptance

"You will not always feel confident; sometimes your stomach will be tied up in knots and perspiration will break out all over your face. Your nervousness will be visible to other people; they may look at you curiously. Or, you may do something rash, injuring your own interests or rudely stepping on someones else's toes. Your imperfections are many--everyone is imperfect, really--and your must learn to accept this. You must understand that your blunders are not your total personality; they are just a part of you, and this is a part which you must accept to be successful. Otherwise you will dedicate your days to an avalanche of self-castigation which will leave you miserable, head bowed, a failure at almost anything you try. You must not look to others for acceptance; this is something you must give yourself."

--Maxwell Maltz, M.D., Creative Living For Today, Pocket Books, 1967

How to Meet New People Without Leaving the House

You know I recommend Irish Penpals as a means to make a new friend of either sex. It's free, and the friend you make doesn't have to be Irish. The site boasts members from all over the world.

But another site that caught my attention is TUT's Village, from Mike Dooley, who calls it a spiritual community for friends or for dating. It's also free. Click here. Once you get there, click 'Resources,' and finally, 'Village.'

Glen Colello recommends GreenFriends.com, which bills itself as the "best and largest site in the world for progressive singles and friends interested in vegetarianism, environmental protection, peace, and animal rights."

Worth a look.

Catching a Healthy Habit

Had a great time with Alison and Kristen at The Dressing Room Restaurant. I had a sashimi salad for lunch, which included mixed greens and a bed of quinoa, cooked just so. Really good. It's a cozy place, too.

Alison demonstrated the new kinesiology technique. That was fun, and I've seen benefits already. Her goal is to replace limiting beliefs with better ones; people usually work on self-esteem, health, and prosperity issues.

Peter is still in South Carolina with his family. His father is not doing well. Peter's not so hot, either; he's not saying it, but I can hear it in his voice. He always looked up to his father, and it must be difficult to see him helpless.

On Saturday night, I went to dinner at Kristen's. Her brother, Glen Colello, is a raw food chef, so he and his partner, Lisa Storch, provided the meal. I never knew raw food could be something you'd crave after eating it just once. I certainly didn't know I could get full on it.

They served a caesar salad, and then a pasta made from zucchini and covered with an out-of-this-world tomato and pesto sauce. We had a chocolate pudding for dessert. Everything was organic and vegan.

Some people, like my friend, B, don't understand my interest in healthful living. "You gotta die of something," he says. But my goal is to die happily in my own bed at an advanced age, instead of hooked up to an IV in a hospital full of strangers. I don't want to die of cancer, a stroke, or heart disease. They're horrible ways to go.

And the more I read about meat production, the less I want to be party to it. So I gave up meat for Lent and haven't looked back. I don't ever use the word "vegetarian." I just avoid meat. Peter made lamb for Easter, and I just ate the potatoes and the green bean casserole (prepared with Campbell's cream-of-whatever soup and Durkee onions; healthful indeed!). I didn't feel it necessary to make an announcement about it.

It's not like I'm a card-carrying member of PETA, either. While growing up, I made a point to avoid TV shows about animals, like Wild Kingdom. Even today, if I'm up late with Jay Leno, and a guest turns out to be one of those guys who hangs out with monkeys, I change the channel. It's not that I don't like animals. I'm just not particularly interested in them.

But when I worked for Routledge, Chapman & Hall, we distributed a book about the connection between meat consumption and violence. At Kristen's house, the vegans agreed that they react differently to situations since giving up meat.

Glen reports a 100% improvement in his once-troubled back since giving up dairy (a pretty daunting prospect for an Italian kid brought up on ricotta and mozzarella) because it's highly inflammatory. I'd like to summon the courage to give up dairy. I've tried once or twice before.

Yeah, I know this post has nothing at all to do with dating. Moving along now.

Visualization Is Key to the Love You Want

Just realized that the trip to Ireland I wrote about in the previous post occurred 19 years ago last week. The reason for that trip was a wedding in Clare.

Kristen Colello, who will have lunch with Alison and me tomorrow, is writing a book about healthful eating entitled, No Strawberries, Please. She dropped over yesterday with Living Nutrition, a magazine she reads.

In it, an interview conducted by David Klein, Ph.D. included a lovely testimonial about the power of visualization by an author named Susan Smith Jones:

"I recommend that people start with very easy-to-achieve goals so they an experience success and feel empowered. Visualization is a very important part of the process. You must be able to see yourself achieving your goal.

When I am visualizing a goal, I accept it and give thanks that it is already part of my reality. Simply put, act 'as if.' You don't want to push your goal into the future. And I always end my visualizations with, 'This or something better I now accept in my life.' I do that because even thought I may be clear on what I want, I am always living in the presence of a Higher Power that knows my highest good."

Visualization is integral to success in all aspects of your life, especially relationships. Please do not ever discount it.

Matt Lauer, an Aran Sweater, and Clearing Limiting Beliefs

Matt Lauer of Today reports from Ireland today, and it's hard to pull myself away from the television. I haven't been to Ireland in years, but I hope to go again soon. I'd like for Peter to see Scotland, too, since that's where his family emigrated from when they settled in Nova Scotia.

Tomorrow, I'm going to see Alison Held at her new office. She's going to demonstrate a kinesiology technique she recently studied. I'm to bring along a limiting belief I'd like to release.

I have two in mind:

-I suffer from the metabolism of a caterpillar

-I will never enjoy clear vision again without contact lenses

I'm sure if I think hard enough, I can come up with a couple of others, but Alison says we must concentrate on just one. I believe wholeheartedly that uncovering and evaporating limiting beliefs is the key to success in every area in one's life.

If you believe that every man you date will ultimately disappoint you, guess what? He will.

After Alison and I succeed at puncturing the belief of my choice, we'll be off to the Dressing Room restaurant. I do not know the owners personally, but they are my heroes (along with Stephen Colbert and Julia Butterfly Hill).

Tomorrow Peter and I will celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary. He wants to go out for dinner; the plan is to ditch the offspring. Since we take them out for dinner once a week, it shouldn't traumatize them.

Prayer request: Peter's father was diagnosed with cancer last week. Peter will fly to South Carolina on Friday to be with him and his mother.

Matt Lauer is now discussing Aran sweaters with the people in Galway. I had an Aran sweater once; a man named Dan Flaherty drove my friends and me in his Michael Hernon tour van to Michael Hernon's pub. Dan then steered us to his house to meet his wife, Sarah, who made Aran sweaters for a living. I bought one for not much and wore it every day to my job at Routledge, Chapman & Hall in New York, where they kept the temperature around 40 degrees.

And then, one morning, I went into my office drawer and found it had been stolen.