Waiting for a ring? Is he holding a box or a phone?

I was chatting recently with my old friend Michael, who I hadn’t seen in a while, and told him I was writing a blog.  “Is it too technical, or would I be interested?” he asked.  I began to giggle. Why you ask? Because for all practical purposes, this is a wedding blog.  And Michael is not the marrying kind.  Now I’m not saying he’s gay, he’s dated women as long as I’ve known him.  He was even engaged once, but he couldn’t go through with it.  He’s just not cut out to function in the kind of arrangement that makes so many others so very happy.

I was delighted to hear yesterday that after all these years, he’d finally figured that out. He laughed too and shook his head – and basically said (out loud!) that he knew “it was never gonna happen.”  He knows he’s not meant to be married, and now he’s very upfront with anyone that comes into his life.

In this season of romantic jewelry store commercials pulling at the heartstrings of women across America, (see above for the kind that used to absolutely kill me as a single girl, and which will be EVERYWHERE until Valentine’s Day) I caution “someday brides” to tune in to their partners; make sure you’re not waiting for a ring from a guy who’ll never understand the way you love, and need to be loved in return.

Live well and love well.

-Dinah

The Mass Produced Floral Assembly Line (Why Not To Order Mass Produced Flowers For Mother’s Day)

After graduating from the floral design program at SCROC (Southern California Regional Occupational Center), I pounded the pavement looking for paid work as a floral designer.  You don’t just sashay into a place like My Little Flower Shop and say “I’m here now, show me your centerpieces, teach me your aesthetic and I’ll revolutionize your tablescapes.” You have to pay your dues.  And pay I did.

My first gig was at a big national chain florist, in the run-up towards Valentine’s Day.  The kind with the “official” arrangements available everywhere. The shop I worked at is on a corner best known to hot-dog connossieurs as home to one of LA’s historic hot dog stands.  But my workspace wasn’t street facing.  It wasn’t anything facing.  It was a shipping container. One end was left open, and one side lined with tables.  There were five of us, who stood in the shipping container eight hours a day making “dozen reds” (a dozen red roses with baby’s breath and ferns).  We made them, and then walked them to another shipping container across the alley, filled with shelves.  This started 10 days before Valentine’s, and kept going right through that day. Dozen red after dozen red. Chili-dog smell upon chili-dog smell.

An arrangement for Mom with heart and soul!

When one of our My Little Flower Shop arrangements arrives somewhere, the recipient can see that we are passionate about what we do.  When a girl got a “dozen red” that had been wilting in a shipping containers for 8 days, what do you think she saw?  I haven’t gotten a chance to drive by and check, but I bet dollars to donuts that a shipping conatiner full of underemployed, depressed designers is out there knocking out “Mom Bokays.”  Is that what you want dropped off at your Mom’s house?  Didn’t think so.

So skip the cookie-cutter ProFlowers, FTD, Teleflora nonsense.  Go with a real business who will make a real, unique arrangement with real feeling.  And who would never put a designer in a shipping container.

Live well, and love well.

Dinah

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