Happy January 22nd. Yes, not exactly January 1st but a lot has been going on!

  • I went to France.
  • I came back and announced I was moving Bedroom Matters exclusively online.

    I'm just too busy.

  • I closed the shop.
  • I sold fixtures and furniture in record time.
  • I moved what was left of Bedroom Matters merchandise into my home.
  • I spent a week finding room for it (thank you Deacon).
  • I had my first Saturday off.
  • The playoffs were yesterday.
  • And, now I’m waiting for Michaelangelo so I shouldn’t even be here, I should be finding all the wires and cables so he can properly set up my home office.

That’s a lot. And I have a lot to do. But as  you can see I’ve been/am very, very busy.

This struck me this morning. I was wondering about a friend and if he’d actually dumped his girlfriend. This has taken years mind you. And I thought of calling him and realized he’d have a hundred excuses about why he couldn’t do it last week, which is why he hasn’t called — well that and he’s been very, very busy.

This train led me to thinking about the class design I had to put together for my Circles. Having a cycle on excuses. Especially when it comes to relationships. Because we have good ones. I mean I have a laundry list equal to that above. So I couldn’t possibly get to all of the other things critical right now to my building success without a bricks and mortar store — nevermind getting me one of those relationship things. Please. But the real reason. Fear. What happens if I just sit down and do all the things sitting on my list that are critical to me moving my life forward? The Unknown. And the unknown might deliver exactly what I ask and then what?

So many men and women have come to me in the last two years in fear of the state of the marriage. And they serve up a thousand and one reasons excuses about how that has happened. But what happens if you put all intention on action rather than  obstacle. Yes, my laundry list above was real. And very time consuming. But it was also a great barrier to sitting and:

  • writing my blog
  • starting S&M Speak
  • getting what I needed to done for Playboy and Lifetime
  • fixing my website
  • getting new merchant services for my website
  • adhering to my diet
  • finding love

These are important things. Major. And not to be overlooked because my barn is too messy for me to write in. My computer works. And, by the way, I face the wall looking out the window over the horse paddocks. My back is to the mess. Catch my drift? We create barriers that aren’t really important. They seem important when we  sit and list them. But they’re not.

So what’s you excuse for fixing and/or finding love in 2010? Go ahead. Make the list. Then read it out loud to a friend and watch their face. As Nike says, Just Do It. I did. And No. 1 on my list took me exactly :11 minutes — to write this blog. Looks my real to do list could be done by lunch time.

Now can I find Mr. Right by then?


I’m here, hanging at the shop, getting ready for a first date. I love first dates. They’re bursting with possibility…. like spring. And, well, it’s far from spring-like out. Or what I like to think of as spring. You know, the days like yesterday where it’s so beautiful you can taste summer. But not today.

  • It’s a cold — 50 degrees.
  • It’s rainy. Nasty Spring rain. Wet. Cold. Drizzly. (My hair doesn’t stand a chance for this date, let me tell you.)
  • It’s dark and gloomy. Not inviting. Not warm. Just dreary.
  • However…. pansies are the flower box. Crocuses are flooding front lawns all over Fairfield County. Daffodils are bursting themselves with the first early bloomers — big and bright. Robins are afield, looking for food.

But I did think about, given the circumstances, what would a perfect date look like on a night like tonight? Not my date tonight — mine will be one of those slightly uncomfortable ones, sitting at the bar, hoping we get along as well as we did on email and phone. But if I flashed forward to a year from now — providing things went well (no pressure) — what would my date tonight look like then. It looks like this:


It’s Spring. April is the month of possibilities. Everything has potential in April. Everything is new and fresh and bright and filled with the urge to be bigger, more beautiful. Even on this cold dark day, I’ve only to walk to the front of the boutique, catch a glimpse of my purple and yellow pansies and I’m a happy girl. It’s a sensual month to be sure. And a month were everything, despite itself, continues to grow. Through the cold, the wet and the dark.

So I can think the date above, but I can’t quite have it yet. So I’m giving it to you.

Build the fire. Dim the lights. Put on J’ai Deux Amours by Madeleine Peroux. Pour some Fourplay wine (it’s all in the name). Listen to the rain. Savor your partner. And see what blossoms.

There is a reason I don’t sell king size bedding in the store. I don’t believe in the king size bed. It’s too big. You might as well be sleeping in separate beds. And what’s the fun in that? I have an adage: “Full size. Queen size. King size. Divorce.”

This is one of the 80’s phenomena along the lines of ‘the bigger the better.’ Well, it’s not. The benefit of having a partner to sleep with you is that they’re there. You can feel them. Hear them. Reach over and touch them during the night without having to get up and walk over. Proximity is a big part of intimacy and a king size bed is simply a barrier to it. Any bed that allows you can spread your arms and legs and not touch the person next to you is a problem.


I’ve heard all the arguments. Kids, dogs, too hot, he/she kicks. Whatever. My response? Kick the kids and dogs out of bed (they shouldn’t be there anyway!) Buy lighter blankets. And you’re going to get kicked anyway.

Nighttime is the only time you get to be so close for such an extended period of time. And if you can’t, or don’t want, to lie that closely to your partner during the night, you’ve got bigger problems than the size of your bed. My parents slept in a full size bed until I was in my early teens. When they finally purchased a Queen, the only plus my father talked about was that his feet didn’t hang over the edge. When people suggested that a king bed was even more luxurious he responded, “I don’t want to be that far away from my wife.” I loved that.

So if you’ve got an unstoppable yearning for a king size bed, maybe you should rethink your relationship, not your bed.

I had a great workshop here this week. One of my favorites to date. It was called Feng Shui Your Relationship, taught by a well known practitioner here locally named Tracy Boyce. I’ve had a couple of events with her this month, and I’ve taken action, but nothing prepared me for what I found Thursday night when I got my compass out.

So after our first event, there was a lot of discussion about the bedroom and ‘making room’ for your partner — whether you have one or not. My bedroom was certainly not ready for sharing. My bed was placed in a way that you could barely get to the other side of it. You had to squeeze between it and the bureau. There were shoes stored along the wall. Access to the other side of the bed was essentially blocked. There was also no bedside table on that side. There wasn’t room for so much as a tshirt in a drawer or my closet.

Okay. I get it. I moved the furniture. Sent two bags of old clothes to Goodwill. And even changed out my bedding to make the room lighter and more inviting. And POW, I’m spending more time up there. I love the space. I feel at home finally.

A few days later, I clear the last bastion of bedroom clutter off the bureau and find three books of love poetry. These were given to me by a male friend many months ago. Someone I’ve never dated but have spent many a day talking about our respective romances. And then it hits me like a ton of bricks — I have to get rid of these books! Love poetry, from an unavailable man, laying out in my bedroom. Yeah. That’s just great, Margaret. Do I give the to the library? Toss them? I had written notes so the library was not an option, but tossing them seemed like bad karma. So I decide to bring them to the shop. Then I’ll decide what to do with them. So what happens next?

POW! Two men, one right after the other, walk into my shop. Both single. Both handsome. Both very centered and open. Each spent more than an hour talking to me. This went well into the afternoon. And before I know it,as the second one leaves, I hand him one of the books of poetry (trust me, it was relevant) and sent him on his way. Now I panicked for a minute. Did I just crap on this great Feng Shui that was happening? But I felt good. I felt totally re-empowered. I felt like I took all the negative “not available” energy from the original giver and turned it into “I’m totally available for you” from this giver — ie, me!

So good, right?

Now it’s Thursday and I’m sitting in the Feng Shui Your Relationships workshop. All of the pieces above are coming together. I’m like a peacock with his feathers out. I’m so proud. Star student. We do our journaling and set out our goals and then “the grid” comes out. Me and my compass need to do some sleuthing around my SW corner — my relationship corner. I go home. Map my SW corner. Oh shit.

My SW quadrant is my junk room. I’m not kidding. My house is very tidy and put together until you get the that room. It’s a disaster. Part office. Part junk room. I literally throw crap in there that I don’t know what to do with. But wait, it gets better. In the SW corner of this room is my cat’s litter box! You can’t make this stuff up, people. I was horrified. I’m literally letting men ‘dump their crap’ on me. This is so true! Both those men from the previous day, told me all about their past relationships, what they’d learned, what they were looking for. They weren’t interested in me. They were just interested in dumping their shit on me! (In the nicest, not intentional way mind you.) Of course they did — have you seen my SW corner?

I got up early the next morning and started cleaning. Bags of garbage. Tons of books and papers that belong here at the shop. I’ve essentially cleared it out. There’s still a lot to do. But I’ve laid a rug down. Put a lamp in there and tried to turn it into a room again. I mean there is still a ton to do. But, one thing at a time. At least I’m decluttering. And preparing for the relationship, right? It’s a start.

As for the litter box. It’s staying in there for now. Not sure what to do about that just now, but I’ll figure it out. Good news is I have an amazing relationship with my cat. Now if we can just change the relationship for my personal kitty we’ll be all set.

Cindy with her driverSo I played my first game of golf this weekend. Ever. Well, I played 9 holes. My good friend Cindy has been trying to get me out and I finally caved. Not that I didn’t want to, I just didn’t want to be humiliated. However, Cindy and her friend were amazingly gentle and fun to play with. No pressure. Lots of swearing. And I got to play with a hot pink golf ball. (Mama Gena would be so proud.)

I’m not going to bore you with all the sexual innuendo. I could rail off on this sport. The grip, the stroke, the ball, the hole. I mean really, it’s endless. Clearly this entire sport was thought up by men. But I did want to talk about one rule you may not have heard about. It’s called the “Circle of Love.”

This nifty little rule allows you to get “close enough” and still get the stroke. I loved this rule. Not just because it was just a nice thing, and that it moves the game along, but it was such a great metaphor for life. You know what? Sometimes close enough is just as good as getting in the hole. What if we’d had that that rule when you had your first sexual experience? I remember thinking, somewhere around age 6, that sex happened in your belly button. I’m not even sure I knew I had a vagina, for goodness sake. And trust me, given the pain of my first sexuaThe Circle of Lovel experience, I would have preferred the belly button. But had I known about the Circle of Love, I probably would have been more ready to give the guy a Mulligan. Instead of being an uncomfortable situation, he would have been embraced in the Circle of Love. It would have been good enough, given the circumstances. What about now? We’re adults. We know it all. We’re supposed to expert lovers. But you know what? There are absolutely instances where the Circle of Love should apply.

  • You can’t get aroused. You know what? Cuddling is good enough.
  • Didn’t last as long as you wanted? You know what? You showed up. Good enough.
  • Didn’t get the foreplay you wanted? At least you were intimate. Good enough.
  • You didn’t lose the ten pounds before he saw you naked? Guess what, he thought you were hot anyway. Your body is good enough

Now, don’t get me wrong. I am NOT talking about settling. I’m talking about realizing that getting it in the hole is not always the most important thing. It’s that you tried hard and got really, really close. And that definitely counts. So embrace the Circle of Love and give yourself a mulligan. Trust me, if you try really hard, it’s always good enough.