Archive for October, 2015

A BAD-ASS BITCH by Bella Bardot

I was called that this week. A “BAD-ASS BITCH”. I admit, I shrieked with delight. And then fear. What exactly is a Bad-Ass Bitch?

In this age of Generation Y, does that term mean that because my waist is smaller than my butt, someone thinks that I can twerk on command while pointing at a person as I tell them off? I took a quick inventory of the situation and the circumstances around the comment to better decipher its meaning.

We had just left an after-party where band members were gathered for a jam session. Someone within the group we were hanging with suggested we go to a nearby casino to try my luck (I’m notoriously known for being lucky).

Every time I walk into a casino a complete other lady takes over. I was a blackjack baby–taught the game by my daddy  when I was three.

I was going to Vegas and sitting on the sidelines when the Rat Pack was still in town, and I learned to give generous tips, accept comps, and to always play 3rd base in the game to be able control the table.

was a blackjack baby when Vegas was still old school, and when  good moral code meant you weren’t selfish on a play and passed up winning when a bigger fish was at the table and they could stand to lose.

In certain casinos to date, when I go to their high limits sections, they still sweep up whomever I’m there with, and take them to the what is jokingly called the “Wives Club” — a secret  room upstairs away from the tables where the guests are assigned their own butler and can enjoy food, drinks, movies and other entertainment options.

They call it the Wives Club because usually the bigger gamblers tend to still be male, and this is so that he can be left alone in peace to enjoy his game without distraction (and hopefully to give him enough time to stay and lose his money, because the “house” knows one thing all too well– it’s always just a “matter of TIME” before a gambler loses if given enough of it.)  A casino, therefore, is a familiar ocean I navigate myself in rather well.

Once we arrived, I sat down with the majority of the band to talk at the bar.  And I don’t’ know about you, but when you are sitting down with a touring band who have lived most of their lives on the road living a life of excess and bliss, you don’t talk about the fact that last night you stayed up late gluing a saint to a surfboard on a hat because it was hat day at school today and the theme was “Surfing Saints”.

I quickly did a count of the exciting parts of my life way back when, and told them about the time I dated a gangster. I told them about the traveling, the lifestyle,  the excitement, and the fact that at one point he told his guards he was afraid of me because I was crazier than he was (true story).

It didn’t last long, we had different viewpoints in life– so much so I ended up marrying a cop soon after, but it was a story the band could raise an eyebrow to.

One of the guys then started telling the story of a near death experience a couple of weeks before, on the way home from a tour. The car he and his girlfriend were in hit a railing and spun out of control going 70mph. He said he felt lucky to be here. We all exchanged near death experiences. Except for me, I don’t have a near death experience. I have a death experience.

I caught a virus in my heart when I was 17, and after battling for a month at the hospital my organs failed and I succumbed. I flat-lined for 2 minutes 26 seconds (also true story). I kept this part short because I don’t really talk about this– but I did tell them one thing: “we’re all just walking each other home boys”.

It was then that I got up to go play that the lead singer grabbed me and told me , “You’re a bad-ass bitch, you know that?”

As I walked to the single hand deck table I smiled as a streaming flash of all my memories played in my head–

A graduation, learning to walk again, a funeral, a wedding, a birth, a birth, and another birth, three  more funerals, cakes and barbecues and hospital visits with broken arms, sleepless nights watching fevers, and long talks with girlfriends about relationships.

Urban Dictionary defines the term “bad-ass bitch” as:  1. an above-par cool girl. Supportive and loving but also will call you out on things and fight if needed. Sometimes they can be dangerous if you get on their bad side, and usually they dont give a fu#k about things.

I will add to that. A bad-ass bitch is a friend, a wife, a mother, a girlfriend, a daughter, a sister. She’s the woman you know AND the woman you are, and what makes her “bad-ass” is the fact that she has lived through the cards that she has been dealt.

She does not fear failure or rejection because she continuously seeks new opportunities to make things better. This is her strength, and there is not one woman that I know that does not operate this way, no matter what their circumstances are.

I won at the table that night, of course. The next morning I was home making breakfast for my children on 2 hours sleep. Their lunches were made, their clothes were pressed and their tummies were full as I sent them off on their day. On their way out, my oldest daughter turned around and told me that she had gotten an A on that test in the class she is having trouble with.

Of course she did. She’s a bad-ass bitch. 🙂badass

(If Youre A Woman Over 40 and Single, You Are Not Going To Want To Hear This) by Bella Bardot

As a marketer for my business and a writer, I have a personality that is curious and open with pretty much every person I come across.

Last night I had the opportunity to attend a music festival. The headliners are friends of a friend, so we all sat around talking at the after party. Immediately, I realized the incredible opportunity I had to interview the band members for my research. After all, band members are notorious for being “experienced” with the female gender.

Surely enough, as we engaged in conversations with the band, a multitude of women tried to keep interrupting with their flirtation and their feminine wiles. But who are you kidding, I’m Bella Bardot, creator of magical potions based on ancient recipes that work with human pheromones for attraction– needless to say, I had a slight upper hand.

As I made them comfortable with my interrogations, I started working my way into the “QUESTION”. Why are men over 40 so difficult to make settle down, and why are there more and more women having difficulty with this particular age group of men when it comes to dating and relationships?

The answer I got was astounding, and it came so fast out of the gate I had to take a step back and take a breath.

One band member looked at me and said “MEN DON’T WANT TO GET MARRIED. Not just men over 40, but NO MAN really wants to get married. We usually do it because its the next logical step in society, or because we have an instinct to procreate, but its an unnatural state. If men were sincere, they would all tell you they would rather stay single, we are just not interested.”

Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve heard this before, it’s nothing new. It’s what he followed the statement with that made it really sink in as the ULTIMATE truth.

He said, “I know what you’re gonna ask me next– what about love, what about companionship? The truth is we find love in many forms, the love of one female is just not as important to us as the love of a male is for our female counterparts. You guys grew up with the Cinderella stories that practically ingrained in your heads that this is the ultimate goal. Guys are just not like that. We like toys, we like work, we like boy time, we like sex and we like the chase.

I know more married couples that are lonelier than my single male friends. Married couples can’t go outside the constraints that they have set up for themselves in the marriage like a single guy, so their only choice is either talk to their partners or start to withdraw within themselves and their hobbies or work. They live a really lonely life even though they are ‘accompanied’.

A single man can talk to everybody. We can have one lover or we can have many. If we’re bored, we can usually pack up and go somewhere at any time, without ‘permission’ or worry. Financially, we are not burdened the stress of what is ‘expected’ because you’re married. You can buy a house or you don’t have to. And you’re not expected to mow the lawn on Saturdays. It’s great!”

It sounded great. As a matter of fact, he was making such a good argument I was actually considering becoming a single male. Then I turned the questioning  around. I asked him what , if ANYTHING, might make a man like him commit.

“Chemistry” he said. “There might come a time in a man’s life when he come across that one woman that he is hot for in a way he’s never been hot for anyone else. That one female that, although he has tried his hardest to convince himself that she does not fit with him because of this or that flaw, is the female that keeps proving herself worthy to him no matter what. That one female whose baggage starts looking more and more like assets. That’s when we want to put everything else on the back burner and jump in. And we tend to know this right away, although we might take our time in trying to disqualify her.”

Apparently, a qualifying female is a nightmare-come-true for most males. She represents the end of his era as the ultimate free playboy, the ultimate man’s man. She represents a passion and a love that he is not interested in getting to know, because with that comes feelings that men aren’t too keen in exploring all the time. She represents the ultimate ball and chain. But when that one woman comes around, that is the only time they might consider nuptial bliss.

As he was talking to me a young woman (younger than 25), passed by us. He immediately said, “Now see her I could marry today”. He was joking, but I immediately questioned his interest in the young woman.

He looked at me and said, “Let’s take you, for example. As we were playing our set today we all noticed how  men kept asking you to dance, and both the men and the women at the party kept looking every time you walked by. You are a very attractive woman, probably prettier than the girl that just walked by, and 9 out of 10 men might pick you out of the two when it comes to looks.

The reality is, that girl probably isn’t set up yet. She’s got questions about life, she doesn’t have a clue about a lot of things because she doesn’t have the experience. And it’s not that we find that attractive, we find it safe. With her, we don’t have to have all the answers. We’re old enough to know more than she does by default anyway so we are probably going to look like winners with her every time. We don’t have to put much effort, and that’s the draw.

Take a woman like yourself,  on the other hand. You are a woman that one can tell is made up of substance. You seem educated just by the way you carry yourself. You can tell you do well on your own just by the way you dress.  When you speak, you might immediately make a man wonder if you might be smarter than he is. Your sense of humor is on point, but that only means we have to stay on our toes so the next guy doesn’t come to try to swoop in on you. To a normal guy, you are WORK.

We know that with a woman like yourself we would be held to a different standard, and that’s when the ordinary guy will start to question whether a woman like you is worth it. I mean, sure you’re beautiful and an incredible asset,  the kids a man might have with a woman like yourself would probably come out magical, and with you he could probably reach a potential he never even dreamed of, but you’re WORK.

It takes a man that is at a point in his life where he welcomes that challenge to better his life in that way. But its a different kind of better. It’s almost like leaving that easy job for the one that’s going to let you retire on an island, it might pay off, but you’re gonna work your ass off before you get there.”

So the ever alluding answer gets closer to me in understanding this age group of men. I’m starting to realize it doesn’t matter what you look like, how intelligent you are, how well you can cook or keep house, or what a great lover or companion you can be. We are working against the grain from the get-go.

After sleeping on this conversation, I realized there is only one solution.

A WOMAN HAS TO LEARN TO BE HAPPY ON HER OWN AND FOR HERSELF. Her focus has to come away form the emotion-inducing men in her life, and she has to start concentrating on the quality of her own journey.

Insofar as the woman currently suffering because of the inability to commit of her man? She has to stop making excuses for that man she wants by her side, and she has got to turn the tables around and realize it is the MAN that is too much work.

She should stop the hoop-jumping IMMEDIATELY, stop the ultimatums, and send him to go f*ck off.  She should simply not waste her time with a male that is not up for her challenge,and she should turn around and find herself a better man than that, one truly worthy of being adored because he is ready, willing and MORE THAN ABLE.

And stronger pheromones. I’m going to start adding stronger pheromones to my products. 🙂