taking the pot.

I had a great moment at around 3 a.m. on the 4th (ok, 5th) of July. I took the pot. It was not a particularly elegant win, nor a clean one (in that I was brought back into the game after getting knocked out), but it was a damn fine capper on a fantastic vacation. I think it may have impressed my companions, which of course is always a plus, but the truth is, I won because I've played with these friends before. I knew what the last two standing might do and I went for it. Since then, I haven't been able to shake a comment a male friend of mine said recently about dating at this age and stage—"everybody's played a few hands."

It's easy to link poker analogies and dating. We can go all in, float, bluff, check, raise, ante, show your cards or muck. Sometimes you realize you are just drawing dead and sometimes you need a backdoor. I've played a few hands myself.

Over a year ago, my ex posted a profile to the dating website, match.com. I found out about it because he came up as a suggested match for a friend of mine. In reality, outside of the no way in hell was he going to date my friend part of it, I really didn't care that he was on there. Frankly maybe he'd be nicer to me if he was getting some lady attention, but I heard he posted a picture of me on his profile. Uh, no...also not going to happen. I've been brought up to speed by many male friends about why someone would think it's smart to do such a thing, but I still shake my head and laugh. Am I seriously supposed to be flattered? I'm going to call that an overbet.

I had to sign up in order to see the photo so I could ask him to promptly remove it. Mission accomplished. I also allowed myself five minutes of unbecoming behavior by reading how he described himself. Now THAT's an experience—reading how your husband of 14 years describes himself. Things that make you go...hmmm.

Cut to last week. I'm bored and inquiring minds want to vacation trawl. I sign back in and look around, which I never did the first time. I know a few men and women who have been on match.com. I truly don't have any cliché reason not to want to be a joiner. I get what it's supposed to be, why you might choose to be on there, and how it can work for many people. I'm not a snob about it (I don't think), I'm just, let's say, not there yet? I'm not wholly comfortable with the idea of this particular medium I guess. I've been totally open to being set up and asked out by mutual friends, so I'm not shy about the stranger quotient, but I think the idea of total anonymity is freaky. I think a couple of good tells are helpful.

Pause.

Hmmm...well, what the hell? I'm on vacation and I might be a little bored right at this very moment. Let's throw something up there and see how this crazy machine works.

So this is what I wrote, direct cut and paste:

Profile Header:

Is it acceptable to wear my NorthFace with heels?

About Me:

"Dont ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody." — The last line in The Catcher in the Rye. Not sure I totally agree Mr. Salinger, but for now I might exercise some caution...I'm not so sure about this match.com thing, so I might take it a little slow...

Two photos: one 'hiking' (but wearing tennis shoes and jewelry) and one basic head shot. Took me a total of about 10 minutes, tops.

A few hours later...oh my God: 308 profile views (many are repeats), twelve "favorites," 32 winks, seven "they're interested" and 16 emails. Shit, I can't breathe. I just winked at someone by accident, replied to an email with nothing in the box, added someone to my favorites and other tragic technological errors. Huh? Who is this guy? 58 stubbedmytoe from Canada? My required "Looking For" window is so tiny, on purpose: 39-42 within three miles of my house. Stubbedmytoe, easydoesit, hellooonewman and bringinthecharm really don't like to follow rules I guess. Creativethinker69 is HOT, but is he really looking for a woman 25-38 within 1,500 miles? Yep, he is. Man, this is like watching a train wreck. I can't take my eyes off of it. Quick...hit refresh.

Ok, so Intense-Interest-in-the-Cultural-Study-of-Internet-Dating Hour is over. Profile is now hidden. A male friend that I told this story to suggested that the winking thing is just guys sitting on their computers winking constantly until they get a hit and then shouting to themselves, "Fish on!" I did get a wink that had a follow up email that said I deserved more than a wink. How is he so sure? (Insert snarky emoticon.) The emails ranged from entire novels of explanation and emotion, to "Just saying hi." One guy said I was so (bleep'ing) beautiful that he didn't expect me to respond. Um, ok, belief manifested I guess. One said he is a 'change junkie.' I think he was maybe trying to sound spontaneous, but all I could picture is me being discarded at the needle exchange. Another one in particular caused me to pause. He said my Salinger quote suggested I am smart, the photos suggested I am kind, and being on the site suggested I am sad. WTH? He was doing so well up to that point ('well' being somewhat subjective here.) Honestly, I know I am probably coming off like an incredibly vain, snobby, anti-joiner, but the truth is, it was overwhelming and totally terrifying. Who's holding the big slick (did you just go there?) and who's just a calling station?

I guess I think about it like the poker game at 3 am: In that game, I was engaged, I was investing, I was willing to push it because I knew enough about the game and the other players to not be timid. To really use my skills and be present. But let's be real, I'm not going to show up at The World Series of Poker and last even beyond the first round. I don't really know how to be in the game blind. It'd be like my first hour on match.com—inappropriately winking at people, betting out of turn, wearing ridiculously over-sized sunglasses and asking if anyone thinks it's good that I have an eight and a nine, off-suit. At least they are serving free drinks.

Joking and poker analogies aside, the idea of what I would write as my "About Me" is intriguing. There's something about that process that is really illuminating. What would I want to say about myself and what I am looking for? What are the non-negotiable traits or deal breakers? The idea behind doing a really honest, well-crafted profile seems to me to be critical. It's what makes monthly poker games with your friends so much more interesting. The more you know, the better you play, the better the game. Even the best players in the professional circuit spend an unbelievable amount of energy looking for tells and researching the top players. It's why we could play until 3 am—it's just a better match up.

So, after some initial thought, I thought I take a stab at maybe what I would write.

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About Me:

On paper I think I'm a total cliché—small town cheerleader, city sorority girl, tennis player, professional woman who recently installed bathroom faucet all on my own (hear me roar). I'm passionate, willful, driven and loyal. I prefer not having a schedule. I'm independent, but prefer the company of friends and loved ones. I love the madness of large, boisterous families. My mother and my daughter are my heart and soul. I think two of the best things I own are my driver's license and my car. I notice and am attracted to good writing and well-crafted expressions of ideas. I'm wordy. I need funny to be a noun. I live more as a verb. I can be grey. I like the idea of getting on an airplane having made plans that morning. I love my home. I think I am aware of the energies around me. I think I am sensitive to the diversity and relativity of our lives. I like to debate. I don't like loose ends. I believe people by and large manifest what they believe, a.k.a.: we drink our own cool aid or poison first. I can overcomplicate simple things. I can make simple things meaningful. I think I make people feel heard. I like to be heard. I like it when a man orders for me. I like to be touched. I am sentimental and romantic in the Big Idea sort of way. Music, mountain air, cut grass, dirty tennis shoes, boat engines, snowflakes, sweat, laughter, big cities, back roads, singing at the top of our lungs, words and books and good human souls are like oxygen to me. I push. I can back off, sometimes away. I will look for and see the other side. I will engage and invest. I am spirited but responsible. I don't like to be talked about, but I love to do or experience things worth talking about. I try and live with intention.

What I'm Looking For:

The big funny. An advocate for self and others. Creative, adventurous, generous, intentional. Structured enough to be responsible and successful, flexible enough to be present, and smart enough to know how it all comes together. Someone With Ideas. A measured risk taker, a confident and patient listener, an opinion former. A family man. Comfortable in nearly any environment, comfortable in his own skin. Someone who thinks the sun rises and sets within the walls of his own home and his own heart. Someone who wants to come home every night—home being wherever she is.

---------------

It's probably true, we've all played a few hands and maybe sometimes we fold maybe too early, maybe too late, but I'm still game and I fully intend on taking the pot again. I think for now though, I prefer to ante up at my friends' houses (shout out to the 6-pack!) I think it's ok to have some tells.

lessons learned in passing.

"If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth."

J.D. Salinger's first line in The Catcher in the Rye.

Thanks Mr. Salinger, I agree. I just don't feel like going into it. At least not the "whys" or the "why nows" or the "when did you knows" or the "how did you knows" or really any commentary on how it all happened, at least not right now. All of the analyzing, coping, struggling and enduring drained me. As of the very end of the year, I'm now divorced. It's over and I just need a breather.

Mr. Salinger lost his life in 2010, as did over 200 'notable' Americans that make the type of list that we see in nearly all year-end broadcast news features. I'm always a little stunned to see the list, forgetting some of the names from earlier in the year, or never having heard about their deaths at all, but mostly the names remind me of the profound impact these souls have had on our culture and our lives.

Manute Bol, the 7'7" NBA shot-blocker, died at the age of 47. I remember watching him in his early years with the Washington Bullets in the mid to late 80's, then picking up with him again in the early 90's when he was with the Philadelphia 76'ers. NBA basketball is my favorite sport to watch on television (1. NBA basketball, 2. professional tennis, 3. college football...if the official ranking is of any remote interest). Growing up out west, I preferred teams like my own Seattle Sonics, even loved-to-hate the Portland Trailblazers, the Phoenix Suns' Barkley years, Drexler's years with the Houston Rockets, the Lakers...we had plenty of things going on out here to keep my attention, but Manute was well, Manute. I think (I need to check this) he's the only NBA player to have more blocks than shots. I watched him because he was consistent in only one area, which was intriguing. Too tall, really, without the more well-roundedness of many pro-players, but he had a role and he perfected his one talent. I watched him because I knew I'd see some killer blocks. There is value in consistency.

Staying on the basketball theme, the legendary UCLA basketball coach, John Wooden also passed away this year. If you know anything at all about college basketball, you know he was an All-American player and then a revered coach that took the likes of Bill Walton and Kareem Abdul Jabbar through winning seasons. I think he took the Bruins to ten national championships, seven of which were in a row. All of this happened prior to his retirement in 1975, so at the age of three, I was hardly aware of his influence. What I do know and remember is his influence after those years. His very simple take on how to be successful, not only on the court, but in life. One of my favorite John Wooden quotes, which my mother would certainly appreciate is, "If you don't have the time to do it right, when will you have time to do it over?" Enough said.

Richard Holbrooke, a passionate veteran US Diplomat that served under four presidents, died suddenly in the last quarter of the year. He most recently was serving as special envoy to Pakistan and Afghanistan, arguably one of the most difficult posts in today's environment. He was known passionately as a "warrior for peace." As a personal friend of two of my friends, I picked up that Mr. Holbrooke was an irreplaceable colleague, a mentor and a diplomatic lion. One quote that always struck a chord with me is (said upon reflection after an intense Global Initiative Conference spearheaded by former President Bill Clinton): "The controlled chaos is one way to get creativity. The intensity of it, the physical rush, the intimacy created the kind of dialogue that leads to synergy." Seems to me that maybe he understood that there is power in leveraging and working with the highly emotional tenor of complex situations.

Miep Gies, the Dutch woman who, with her husband and close friends, helped hide Anne Frank and her family from the Nazi's in a secret set of rooms in Otto Frank's company offices in Amsterdam, died in January of this past year. How could anyone possibly understand the stress that she lived with during those years — the fear of being discovered, the fear of the discovery betraying the lives of her friends? And yet, showing up to work day in and day out with this enormous secret just on the other side of a door. Yet, when asked if the worrying consumed her, I am humbled by her response: "No, on the one hand the workload did not allow any time for worrying and on the other hand, we had the satisfaction of doing the right thing."

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So after reflecting on these "notable" deaths and what I learned from their lives, what I am interested in saying is: thank you. It was not the worst year of my life. It was the most challenging for sure, but there were many, many lessons, some that were downright soul filling, tucked into that year. It's fitting that much of the events of the entire year came together at the very end and fell on the heart and mind of a woman who feels it all. So as I sit here, mere days from it having slipped into the archives, I can say with absolute certainty that in many ways, it was the year of my life. The one where I’ve never felt so alive, so human, so scared, happy, desperate, awkward, empowered, loved and inspired.

Perspective is a powerful teacher and I’ve had more cause to reflect this year than any year prior. Just as with the reflections on the lives of the "notable Americans" who passed, the stories and moments that others have been willing to share with me during this past year were powerful. Moments that were incredibly honest, sometimes shocking, always illuminating, and always a reminder of how complex we are as humans. I was grateful to hear, witness or experience these moments, so in honor of them, I'll end by envisioning a year in which the following might have happened. I would love to sit and talk about any or all of them, whether they happened to me or someone else, because if we let our life’s stories be heard, they might tell us what’s next.

This year…

…you might spend two hours in a snowy hot pool with your pre-teen daughter and her friend, having the conversation of a lifetime, while an entire bar full of twenty-something après skiers are just on the other side of the glass and you, not being a twenty-something, might start out feeling self-conscious (maybe it’s because you are in a bikini), but an hour in, you might look up into the sky, let the snowflakes fall and melt on your eyelashes and feel very, very happy to be your age and stage.

You might sit at a dinner table with a woman who’s husband walked out on her, her boyfriend who’s daughter wanted to change her last name after he and her mother got divorced, and a husband and wife whose relationship led to the divorce from a close friend of yours (who obviously was not in attendance) and find yourself drinking champagne and talking about their crazy neighbor and too-spicy penne ala vodka.

You might have many EVCFs (Email Volley of Confusion and Frustration). So many in fact, that you might create an acronym for them.

You might receive a wildly expensive gift on a first date, making that (too bold of a move) the precursor to it being the last date, and secretly wonder if you could sell it on Ebay to pay your legal bills.

You might write your ex a manifesto on love, life, self and marriage that ends up falling on deaf ears, but you might save it and think you should present it to your next love and say, “This is what I want. Are you in?” You might think it’s silly to waste a good stream of consciousness.

The greatest two words all year might be “or not,” also known as: "not your responsibility."

You might feel so incredibly fucking excited about the life that is opening up all around you that you can't stop yourself from singing at the top of your lungs while driving down the street and wondering if the people in the neighboring cars are as happy as you are. You might think not.

You might be obsessed with all forms of electronic communication, so much so that you might experience the unfortunate event of someone accidently opening the bathroom stall and you not being sure what is more embarrassing — the texting or the partial nudity.

You might find that your already close relationship with your mother actually had room to grow. You will be eternally grateful for her support.

Your best friends might have the best timing and they might save you, over and over again.

You might find yourself in a hot tub with half a dozen singing choral opera singers.

You might lose your cell phone in a hot tub, when you are not even in the hot tub, because a man trips and knocks your wallet out from under your arm because he might have been stunned to see a woman try to kiss another woman. That might not be only time that year that you get propositioned by a woman.

You might experience the toughest moment of your life when you tell your daughter that you are separating from her father, and over the next year, she might blow you away with her transparency, her intelligence, her responsibility and her resilience. It might be the most difficult, but the most inspiring thing you will see all year.

Your funniest childhood friend might say that you are funny.

You might discover that your 20 year old college nickname is actually spelled with an 'i'.

You might not know how to tactfully change your relationship status update without sparking awkward commenting, while your ex just simply unfriends you and then posts a photo of you on his Match.com profile. It might just make you laugh hysterically.

You might find that bacon is good in every scenario, including emergency abdominal surgery.

You might believe in fate.

You might lose sleep, your appetite, your confidence, your money, your momentum, your faith in some and your confidence in others, but you might gain yourself.

You may find that some friends are necessities and some are luxuries.

You might realize you have to stop putting yourself in these situations!

A convertible ride along the lake, or a walk over the Golden Gate Bridge, or an hour and a half wait in line to eat breakfast, or a conversation on a rooftop bar, or radishes and dip on a summer's day, or racing your daughter down the ski hill, or dancing by yourself, or having your photo taken in Chelsea on a luminous night by someone who thinks you are beautiful, might be salve for your soul.

You might spend three hours with nothing more to do then sit, drink a few beers and debate the President’s handling of the economy, the concept of Jumping the Shark, inventing a leather coat life vest, is there a good Catholic democrat?, giving your children a sense of their Jewish background, and the fairness of how the snow removal debacle in 2008 lost the mayor his job. The last one might spark more debate than any of the others, but that might be due to what number beer you are on.

You might have the best and most interesting conversations of your life.

You might learn that you should put the oxygen mask on yourself first.

Your faith might be restored over a cab ride in your favorite city in the world.

You might look like a fool, feel like a fool, be taken for a fool, but not have any regrets and that includes the hysterical crying when you put the cat down and the psychics (plural), just to name two.

You might cry every day, just once.

You might find new perspective on friendship, motherhood, ambition, humility, patience, endurance and loyalty.

You might receive the birthday card you've always been dreaming about.

You might apologize…a lot.

You might disappoint, but you might inspire.

You might be disappointed, but you might be inspired.

You might be congratulated, pitied, hit on, avoided, smothered, rejected, helped, hurt and saved. It might be overwhelming at times.

You might find yourself not knowing what Florence and the Machine are actually signing about, but not caring because in the way she sings about Happiness, for the first time in your life, you might feel it coming at you like a freight train.

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"Dont ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody." — The last line in The Catcher in the Rye.

I don't know if I agree with that one Mr. Salinger. I would have rather shared, learned and then maybe lost, then never shared at all. This year, more than ever. So I think I prefer: "What'choo talkin' 'bout Willis?" Are you smiling? Me too. Rest in peace Gary Coleman (1968—2010) rest in peace.

And here begins, a new year...