So a good friend of mine was telling me about this young lady he met, and how he was impressed with her on the first night out. So the next question was how was the "SEX" he procedded to say that he kissed her good night and rescheduled the next date.
"Cool", I thought this was a big step for him seeing how he norma...lly attempts to knock the boots on the first night. So Guys , this ones for you: "What are the attributes that distinguish a women from being the one night wonder or the savorable gem that you take your time and build a relationship with!
Live to learn to love
Learn to love to live
Love to live to learn
so that you may live the life that you yearn.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Chapter 1: In the Beginning
In the Beginning
Let’s see, it all began on a beautiful spring day, in the heart of the ATL, in underground Atlanta. I remember like it was yesterday. Yeah…I just applied to this Tex-Mex restaurant for a job as a bar back. Yeah…that’s right, it was the year 1991— the Bush era was upon us. My name is Rico; you see I had just moved here from Illinois. I had just withdrawn from college there, and transferred down to Atlanta to go to The Art Institute of Atlanta. I was majoring in communications while attending Southern Illinois University at Carbondale and decided to get in the music business program they had at The Art Institute of Atlanta. At that time, I didn’t have too much going on, you know when you are young you can’t seem to make up your mind and that was the case in my situation. I hadn’t quite figured out what I was going to do with my life yet, but this music program sure had my attention. The program entailed learning the specifics of becoming a recording engineer; you know running the board creating, mixing and mastering music. The program had my interest so much so that I picked up and moved to Atlanta to investigate further.
I remember making a deal with my father in regards to paying for the school. They wanted $40,000 to attend a two-year program in recording engineering. That was $20,000 a year. I was attending SIU for practically little to nothing in comparison due to the fact that my father was on staff there as a clinical psychologist. I wonder sometimes how things would have worked out if I had stayed and finished school there. Never mind—I have no regrets.
So there I was filling out the application at this Tex-Mex joint for a bar back position. The restaurant was located on the bottom floor of underground Atlanta in the corner. Adjacent to the right if you were standing looking out of the doorway there was a pub called Groundhogs and to the left there was a bar called The Shark Bar. As you walk into the Tex-Mex restaurant/bar you have to wade through a wall of smoke, and to the left there was this nice long bar where patrons could sit and enjoy a smoke and shoot the shit, among other things. To continue further, straight inside, you venture into the most festive scenery you could imagine. There were tasteful wall hangings of sombreros that stretched for miles, with the gold thread interlaced and intricately weaved. Then there were the vibrant splashes of color from the native fabric of Mexico that were placed strategically throughout the establishment. Did I mention the piñatas that were placed here and there, all throughout the restaurant, which added to that authentic look? As you ventured further ahead you would run into the hole they called the manager’s office, which resembled a closet. If you were to follow that hallway you would pass the kitchen and come to a set of stairs that would lead you to the upstairs bar. I spent the majority of my time at the upstairs bar, where Tonya was stationed.
Now a bar back simply stocks the bar with supplies. You know, with whatever the bartender needs: ice, lemons, limes, clean glasses, etc. Well, they had a lot of cool bartenders there, and the wait staff was alright, too. Hey, I can’t forget the cooks, if it wasn’t for them there wouldn’t be a Stacks—that was what we nicknamed the place. The manager, however, was a real dick not to mention an alcoholic. You could find him any given night, slurring his words and hitting on the female wait staff and the bartenders or anything that had two legs and was of the female persuasion. If I remember correctly his name was David or Dave, hell who knows.
So, it was there at Tortilla Stacks that I met my baby; in a Tex-Mex sports bar in underground Atlanta. Of all places right, you just never know where you will find that one. As I recall, looking back in time, I never took notice of her. You see, I had just gotten out of a pretty intense relationship where this young lady tried to get me to marry her. I just wasn’t with it. I just wanted to have a good time like all twenty-year-olds, right! So, I was pretty emotionally drained and was intent on focusing on getting my life together and remaining in school and living my life drama-free.
I wasn’t too excited; hell, I wasn’t even entertaining jumping into another relationship anytime soon. Well, nothing serious that is, well fate would have it another way. No regrets, baby, no regrets!
Let me tell you about Tonya—what a natural beauty to behold. It killed me that this woman used very little makeup. Eventually, I found myself more times than not attracted to her, because she didn’t attract attention to herself with all the superficial hoopla. She could grab and hold your attention by the sum of her beauty and sparkling personality.
So, Tonya was a bartender at Tortilla Stacks and fate would have it that I was her bar back. She was so cool to work with, real laid back, not very demanding, or so I thought, but I’ll save that can of worms for later in the story—just hold your damn horses. So, as I was saying, Tonya and I got along pretty cool. Despite her attractiveness I never gave her a second glance due to me just getting out of a relationship, not to mention she was a little skinny. Just to put to rest of any notions of me being prejudiced, I am here to tell you I am not. I was raised by two open-minded Hipsters who instilled in me the value of accepting people by the fruit of their labors and actions. It’s a proven method when judging your peers who have the gift of gab and the charm and charisma to go with it.
So I figure it was at least a month into the gig before I started getting comfortable with the staff and began hanging out with them after work. For those of you who have ever worked at a restaurant, you know all about the after-work spot the crew frequently attends to chill out and get their drink on. Well, there was this one particular night we got off and headed over to The Shark Bar—which was literally a stone’s throw away from the Stacks. There was a decent crowd there when we arrived, and they were passing out shooters like there was no tomorrow. In no time, I found myself on the dance floor having a real good time. I recall dancing with Tonya a couple of times, and the girl could move. I remember telling myself that she had better watch herself because we were getting a little freaky, and the way they were passing those shooters out I was in the frame of mind to back it up. Well, it would seem I wasn’t the only one thinking that way. The night was sealed with adventurous hands and intense lip lock.
Now, Tonya was twenty-three at the time and had nice silky smooth clear skin with long, luxurious, auburn-red hair, about 5’5”, probably weighing in at 118lbs, small chest, slim build, with medium-thick luscious lips like candy. She is very pleasing to look at and on top of all that, a great conversationalist. She carried herself with a level head and with purpose. From that point on I had no problem getting to work. Hell baby—what’s my motivation! Oh, there were plenty of nights after work, that intense, deep conversation was shared between the two of us. We would get lost into each other with the holding of hands, the staring into each other eyes, time would stand still. After work in the evening, I would get a ride from her to the house. During that time period I was staying with my mom due to the fact I just moved to Atlanta, so we were limited to kisses and heavy petting.
I recall one night arriving at the house and we were not quite ready to call it a night. So we struck up this conversation regarding, hell, the state of the nation and world affairs and umm…from there we Uhh! Well, it went a little something like this.
The seats in the car were reclined in the downright position as far as they would go, I had her straddle me face forward as I grabbed the steering wheel and begin to shift her gears from first to fifth, up and down, slowly working the gears to insure they were engaged fully before shifting to the next one. The damn windows were so foggy we had to turn the defroster on. Oh shit, it just didn’t get any better than that. Now I should put a warning out there that kids, you should not try this at home—only seasoned professionals with hours of driving time can reproduce this without causing an accident.
I was twenty at the time and to get action on a regular basis was no problem. But as a good friend of mine put it, there is a difference between quantity and quality. The quality of action was on another level I’m here to tell you, this woman knew what she was doing and it didn’t take long before I was sprung. That’s right guys—no shame in the game, I admit she had me.
Live to learn to love
Learn to love to live
Love to live to learn
so that you may live the life that you yearn.
Let’s see, it all began on a beautiful spring day, in the heart of the ATL, in underground Atlanta. I remember like it was yesterday. Yeah…I just applied to this Tex-Mex restaurant for a job as a bar back. Yeah…that’s right, it was the year 1991— the Bush era was upon us. My name is Rico; you see I had just moved here from Illinois. I had just withdrawn from college there, and transferred down to Atlanta to go to The Art Institute of Atlanta. I was majoring in communications while attending Southern Illinois University at Carbondale and decided to get in the music business program they had at The Art Institute of Atlanta. At that time, I didn’t have too much going on, you know when you are young you can’t seem to make up your mind and that was the case in my situation. I hadn’t quite figured out what I was going to do with my life yet, but this music program sure had my attention. The program entailed learning the specifics of becoming a recording engineer; you know running the board creating, mixing and mastering music. The program had my interest so much so that I picked up and moved to Atlanta to investigate further.
I remember making a deal with my father in regards to paying for the school. They wanted $40,000 to attend a two-year program in recording engineering. That was $20,000 a year. I was attending SIU for practically little to nothing in comparison due to the fact that my father was on staff there as a clinical psychologist. I wonder sometimes how things would have worked out if I had stayed and finished school there. Never mind—I have no regrets.
So there I was filling out the application at this Tex-Mex joint for a bar back position. The restaurant was located on the bottom floor of underground Atlanta in the corner. Adjacent to the right if you were standing looking out of the doorway there was a pub called Groundhogs and to the left there was a bar called The Shark Bar. As you walk into the Tex-Mex restaurant/bar you have to wade through a wall of smoke, and to the left there was this nice long bar where patrons could sit and enjoy a smoke and shoot the shit, among other things. To continue further, straight inside, you venture into the most festive scenery you could imagine. There were tasteful wall hangings of sombreros that stretched for miles, with the gold thread interlaced and intricately weaved. Then there were the vibrant splashes of color from the native fabric of Mexico that were placed strategically throughout the establishment. Did I mention the piñatas that were placed here and there, all throughout the restaurant, which added to that authentic look? As you ventured further ahead you would run into the hole they called the manager’s office, which resembled a closet. If you were to follow that hallway you would pass the kitchen and come to a set of stairs that would lead you to the upstairs bar. I spent the majority of my time at the upstairs bar, where Tonya was stationed.
Now a bar back simply stocks the bar with supplies. You know, with whatever the bartender needs: ice, lemons, limes, clean glasses, etc. Well, they had a lot of cool bartenders there, and the wait staff was alright, too. Hey, I can’t forget the cooks, if it wasn’t for them there wouldn’t be a Stacks—that was what we nicknamed the place. The manager, however, was a real dick not to mention an alcoholic. You could find him any given night, slurring his words and hitting on the female wait staff and the bartenders or anything that had two legs and was of the female persuasion. If I remember correctly his name was David or Dave, hell who knows.
So, it was there at Tortilla Stacks that I met my baby; in a Tex-Mex sports bar in underground Atlanta. Of all places right, you just never know where you will find that one. As I recall, looking back in time, I never took notice of her. You see, I had just gotten out of a pretty intense relationship where this young lady tried to get me to marry her. I just wasn’t with it. I just wanted to have a good time like all twenty-year-olds, right! So, I was pretty emotionally drained and was intent on focusing on getting my life together and remaining in school and living my life drama-free.
I wasn’t too excited; hell, I wasn’t even entertaining jumping into another relationship anytime soon. Well, nothing serious that is, well fate would have it another way. No regrets, baby, no regrets!
Let me tell you about Tonya—what a natural beauty to behold. It killed me that this woman used very little makeup. Eventually, I found myself more times than not attracted to her, because she didn’t attract attention to herself with all the superficial hoopla. She could grab and hold your attention by the sum of her beauty and sparkling personality.
So, Tonya was a bartender at Tortilla Stacks and fate would have it that I was her bar back. She was so cool to work with, real laid back, not very demanding, or so I thought, but I’ll save that can of worms for later in the story—just hold your damn horses. So, as I was saying, Tonya and I got along pretty cool. Despite her attractiveness I never gave her a second glance due to me just getting out of a relationship, not to mention she was a little skinny. Just to put to rest of any notions of me being prejudiced, I am here to tell you I am not. I was raised by two open-minded Hipsters who instilled in me the value of accepting people by the fruit of their labors and actions. It’s a proven method when judging your peers who have the gift of gab and the charm and charisma to go with it.
So I figure it was at least a month into the gig before I started getting comfortable with the staff and began hanging out with them after work. For those of you who have ever worked at a restaurant, you know all about the after-work spot the crew frequently attends to chill out and get their drink on. Well, there was this one particular night we got off and headed over to The Shark Bar—which was literally a stone’s throw away from the Stacks. There was a decent crowd there when we arrived, and they were passing out shooters like there was no tomorrow. In no time, I found myself on the dance floor having a real good time. I recall dancing with Tonya a couple of times, and the girl could move. I remember telling myself that she had better watch herself because we were getting a little freaky, and the way they were passing those shooters out I was in the frame of mind to back it up. Well, it would seem I wasn’t the only one thinking that way. The night was sealed with adventurous hands and intense lip lock.
Now, Tonya was twenty-three at the time and had nice silky smooth clear skin with long, luxurious, auburn-red hair, about 5’5”, probably weighing in at 118lbs, small chest, slim build, with medium-thick luscious lips like candy. She is very pleasing to look at and on top of all that, a great conversationalist. She carried herself with a level head and with purpose. From that point on I had no problem getting to work. Hell baby—what’s my motivation! Oh, there were plenty of nights after work, that intense, deep conversation was shared between the two of us. We would get lost into each other with the holding of hands, the staring into each other eyes, time would stand still. After work in the evening, I would get a ride from her to the house. During that time period I was staying with my mom due to the fact I just moved to Atlanta, so we were limited to kisses and heavy petting.
I recall one night arriving at the house and we were not quite ready to call it a night. So we struck up this conversation regarding, hell, the state of the nation and world affairs and umm…from there we Uhh! Well, it went a little something like this.
The seats in the car were reclined in the downright position as far as they would go, I had her straddle me face forward as I grabbed the steering wheel and begin to shift her gears from first to fifth, up and down, slowly working the gears to insure they were engaged fully before shifting to the next one. The damn windows were so foggy we had to turn the defroster on. Oh shit, it just didn’t get any better than that. Now I should put a warning out there that kids, you should not try this at home—only seasoned professionals with hours of driving time can reproduce this without causing an accident.
I was twenty at the time and to get action on a regular basis was no problem. But as a good friend of mine put it, there is a difference between quantity and quality. The quality of action was on another level I’m here to tell you, this woman knew what she was doing and it didn’t take long before I was sprung. That’s right guys—no shame in the game, I admit she had me.
Live to learn to love
Learn to love to live
Love to live to learn
so that you may live the life that you yearn.
Monday, July 13, 2009
Author Reveals His Journey of Loving, Losing and Healing
Contact: Rachel Friedman, 727-443-7115 Ext 206
Rachel@newsandexperts.com
A Love Lost
Author Reveals His Journey of Loving, Losing and Healing
While Alfred Lord Tennyson's theorem that it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all is a noble sentiment, healing after you’ve lost is a difficult journey.
That’s the purpose of Rico Dasheem’s novel – A Love Lost, from CreateSpace (https://www.createspace.com/3375944) – a poignant retelling of his real-life turbulent romantic relationship that ended badly, and how he put his life back together after the fall. Dasheem tells his story, meant for anyone who finds themselves falling in or out of love, through a series of anecdotes, letters and poetry, including bits and pieces of his philosophy on life as well.
“There’s nothing like having a life-friend who is there with you thorough the thick and absolutely crazy things we put ourselves through,” he said. “A relationship like that is hard to find. When you do stumble across one or even nurture one to that level, do what it takes to maintain it.”
The journey began in a restaurant in Underground Atlanta where Dasheem worked in a bar restocking glasses and bottles for a young barmaid named Tonya, who soon became the love of his life. The two began a relationship that spanned eleven years.
Dasheem told of how he hopped from job to job, creating an air of instability for his family. He admitted to taking his wife for granted, and not supporting her as he should have. He also recounted an online relationship with an old girlfriend that caused mistrust to build between himself and Tonya. During the course of the relationship, he admitted to making business decisions that affected his family monetarily without consulting his wife. He expressed his sorrow at the loss of his relationship and accepted responsibility for his part in it.
Dasheem told of the pain and humiliation he felt during marriage counseling as his negative behaviors were laid bare to him. He was not, at the time, able to understand the damage he inflicted on his marriage.
‘It takes time, desire, and a willing attitude to admit flaws in one's character, and that day I was not moving,” he said. “The little distance that was coming between us acted as a spring board to the separation of our minds and eventually our hearts.”
Finding that marriage counseling could not work a miracle, the two decided to separate. Dasheem headed out to the west coast in an attempt to put distance between himself and Tonya, forgetting that he still could not run away from himself.
“Clearly I began to see the error of my ways and began to admit that I had faults,” he said. “This was the beginning of the real journey. If I had the courage to look, the will to understand, and the perseverance to continue, I would become a changed being. This was a turning point for me.”
Despite all that transpired, Dasheem’s love for Tonya never wavered. He continued to pine for his lost love and to agonize over the mistakes that were made. However, over time, Dasheem developed five steps to healing after losing a love:
• Denial: Be willing to confront issues
• Confront: By confronting issues you are seeking understanding
• Internalize: Process what you learned
• Forgiveness: Dissipate grudges and resentment. Forgive yourself and others.
• Continue your journey refreshed: Getting on with your life with a new perspective.
“Life is an illusion,” he said. “Nothing is for certain and nothing is promised. Enjoy your fleeting time here with your loved ones, let the trivial matters pass, and let the good times be stored in your heart. Life is short. Tomorrow is not promised to any man.”
About Rico Dasheem
Born and raised in Trenton, New Jersey, Rico has been writing since high school. “I discovered my writing talent during a high school project, in which I was asked to write a song. From that day forward, I became intrigued with being able to express myself as a writer, and seeker of truth.” This was the beginning of Rico keeping a daily journal. “I began to write poems, short stories and naturally progressed to writing books.”
To interview Rico Dasheem, or request a review copy of “A Love Lost “contact Rachel Friedman at (727) 443-7115 ext. 206 or email Rachel@NewsAndExperts.com Please include your name, publication, and mailing address with your request.
Live to learn to love
Learn to love to live
Love to live to learn
so that you may live the life that you yearn.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Aint life grand!! Just had to write a letter, yeah remember those snail mail, to a long time friend explaining the facts about life with all its ups and downs. Its a hell of a ride either way. Just have to buckle in and enjoy the ride.
Live to learn to love
Learn to love to live
Love to live to learn
so that you may live the life that you yearn.
Live to learn to love
Learn to love to live
Love to live to learn
so that you may live the life that you yearn.
Monday, June 29, 2009
To love is divine, whom do you love, and what do you love? A common misused word, love. What does it mean? Lust is not love, but simply a selfish gratification of one’s needs and desires.
Memoirs of a Love Lost is now available:
https://www.createspace.com/3375944
Live to learn to love
Learn to love to live
Love to live to learn
so that you may live the life that you yearn.
Memoirs of a Love Lost is now available:
https://www.createspace.com/3375944
Live to learn to love
Learn to love to live
Love to live to learn
so that you may live the life that you yearn.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Happiness: 3 amazing tips from the world's oldest case study
• by Yeah Dave (David Romanelli), on Tue Jun 23, 2009 4:29pm PDT
We’ve all heard countless studies, articles and TV interviews on happiness. But the other day I stumbled upon something that is just now being revealed to the media for the first time.* It's a 72 year old study that began all the way back in 1937 when 268 Harvard University sophomores were asked to participate in a study measuring “a formula-some mix of love, work, and adaptation-for a good life.” And while many of those who were college sophomores in 1937 are now dying or in their fading twilight, this study continues to be diligently maintained to this very day.
And never before has science been able to report such fascinating and thoroughly time-tested results on happiness. Following are 3 powerful lessons from this study.
1. Have a Healthy Outlet
So many of the people in this study seemed to have all their ducks in a row. In their prime years in the 1950’s and 1960’s, they were making big money in powerful careers. They had beautiful families and lived in idyllic neighborhoods. Oddly enough, later in life, many of these fortunate people ended up breaking down mentally and physically. Why? If one didn’t have a healthy outlet for their fears, nerves, and struggles, it was only a matter of time before repressed demons erupted to the surface. The happiest people in this study had a healthy outlet. They were altruistic or had a rich sense of humor. They funneled their issues into sport, “their lust into courtship.”
It’s something important to consider. As the study proves, a human being can get away with sustaining daily nerves, fears, and doubts for a number of years. But ultimately, such a nervous nelly will crack. If you haven’t already, develop an outlet…find a sport, commit to helping others, lighten up, and laugh more often. A wise one said, "A person without a sense of humor is like a wagon without springs, jolted by every pebble in the road."
2. Don’t Take Yourself Too Seriously
This study, as reported in Atlantic Magazine, was summed up beautifully by the journalist Joshua Shenk: “Herein lies the key to a good life--not rules to follow, nor problems to avoid-- but an engaged humility, an earnest acceptance of life’s pains and promises.”
In other words, one can only carry the burden of a big ego and lots of pride for so long before your proverbial knees will buckle. Don’t take life too seriously. We all have weaknesses. Do you really want to battle your dark side year after year? Or might it just be time to lay down your arms, take a deep breath, and enjoy life. It’s shorter than you think.
3. Happiness Must be Shared
The other night I was watching the movie adaptation of Into the Wild, the true story of Chris McCandless (see above photo which is a self-portrait found undeveloped in McCandless's camera after his death). Fed up with the rat race, McCandless graduated college in the early 1990's, left his worried parents in the dust, sold all his belongings, and ventured deep into the Alaskan wilderness. Before dying of starvation, he seemed to regret his isolationist ways and wrote these last words in his journal, “Happiness only real when shared.” According to the 72 year old study, McCandless was spot on. In the study, those who spent too much alone time ultimately struggled. The happiest subjects in the study were those who sustained meaningful, healthy relationships with friends and family. One can never give enough hugs, say enough "I love you's," and send enough "I miss you's."
As I emphasize in my book and to my own crazy self each and every day: Livin' the good life is not fancy trips, and expensive jewels, and high brow country clubs. Rather, livin' the good life is livin' the moment!
*This study was reported in the media for the first time by ATLANTIC MAGAZINE, June 2009
by David Romanelli (www.yeahdave.com)
Pasted from
Live to learn to love
Learn to love to live
Love to live to learn
so that you may live the life that you yearn.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
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