Un Brindisi (a toast): Here's to trying it, Oncemore.

Every warning bell in her body seemed to be lighting up at random. Tiny beads of salt laden sweat assaulted her freshly washed skin from the inside out. The irritation rose to her throat forcing her back into the shower for a second rinse, just to cool her nerves.

It was times like these that she planned ahead for, but as she stood facing her substantial wardrobe, she felt her enthusiasm slipping into the rough waters of anxiety and doubt. One by one, she made quick work of rejecting all 6 of her "rock solid, can't fail, pre cordinated - down to the accessories, "go to" outfits, as simply inappropriate for tonight's occasion.

She had the perfect outfit for every reason she felt she needed, except this one. Clearly, she didn't think she needed a romantic dinner date ensemble in her arsenal. She had hung up her hopes for love a few years back after a messy heartbreak led her to want to get reacquainted with herself.

The only setback was that she decided she might be the only one on earth who could get along with her, and this seemed to suit her well enough most of the time. She navigated around dating by keeping her sights set to the shortest game possible, and focused on collecting some very handsome friends but no one ever seemed to rise above the fray until HE crash landed in her life.

The crazy thing about it, she pondered, was that before today, he gave her a warm feeling inside. But butterflies were NOT what was currently rumbling in her belly at the moment. (Truth be told they felt more like freshly disturbed angry hornets defending their nest.)

What the hell was she thinking? She wasn't ready for this and she knew it.

"Yes, that's true, and if you don't start somewhere, you are never going to BE READY," snapped the little devil she imagined as a permanent fixture living on her left shoulder. She waited for the imaginary angel on her right to offer words of comfort, but the little devil had seen to it that tonight the stage would be his, and so none came.

As if to emphasise the devil's point, her thoughts were suddenly pierced by the menacing sound of the clock ticking furiously at her, or so it seemed. Even the otherwise soothing sound of her vintage Henry Miller clock was turning on her.

With this, as she noted the time, it set off a flood of pure panic down the back of her bare legs with the realization that she was too far from being ready to go and far too close to having to leave if she meant to make it on time.

It seemed to escape her that she had managed to accomplish some pretty amazing things in her 45 years on the planet.

And even so, none of those achievements offered her any comfort tonight. Despite the laugh lines around her mouth or the crows taking up residence around her warm but weary eyes, she felt like she was on the awkwardly green side of 14 and not at all ready to deal with the mess she was convinced she had created.

Any other challenge would have brought out the best in her. She would have mentally plotted out no fewer than 3 viable strategies before even taking one step forward. The intimacy of a private date with someone who could potentially reopen old wounds terrified her. It was her version of "kryptonite" and she was a weakened wreck she didn't recognize in this state. This powerhouse of a woman shrank instantly into a girl whose finest solution was to ruminate over every possible block she believed herself "guaranteed" to stumble on.

On this night, little miss inspiration was all about self condemnation as she began the onslaught of negative dialogue with her own reflection in the mirror:

"Everything was going just fine- the 3 hour phone calls, the mini novel length emails, it was easy to talk about flipping treasures with him, there felt like no risk was involved when we talked shop. I even liked the flirty afternoon texts and the innocent "look what I am up to" selfies we sent back-and-forth at random. It was NICE. SIMPLE. EASY.

But could we keep things nice and easy? Nooooooo.......you just couldn't enjoy things right there for a few more weeks, or maybe a a few pleasant months.

You just couldn't come up with a perfectly reasonable reason why meeting in person should have waited until, well..... until somebody came to their senses and chickened out of this whole meeting idea.

AND, to add insult to injury, like two little nerds, you both whip up the idea to bypass the coffee date like normal people and head straight for the bonafide official, grown up real deal first date: complete with dinner at an actual fancy restaurant with a freaking dress code! Do they even MAKE THOSE anymore?" she silently screamed to herself, thoroughly annoyed.

She cringed at the mere thought of having to tell her best friend she went on a date with a guy she met online. Online dating was a bit of a mixed bag for her generation and not everyone was a fan.

She knew time was speeding ahead of her but stood frozen as she wondered how THIS became the thing that struck fear and insecurity in her normally fierce and ferocious heart.

Upon further reflection, if she wanted to be kind to herself, she had to admit that it DID strike fear in her, deeply. She envisioned herself going through the painful experience ahead, imagining herself looking clueless as she circled the lot for a "good" parking space. She hoped her date wasn't somewhere watching her being so obnoxiously unsure of herself. The hair stood up on her neck as if it were actually happening as she followed the story playing out in her mind, feeling the nervous energy as she walked alone into a crowded restaurant.

To her mind, it seemed like everyone else had come with their group intact at one time, which she decided meant that she stuck out clearly in stark contrast to the groups of people as being ALONE. Her voice faltered and her sentences were jumbled as she tried to discreetly explain her situation to the eagerly waiting hostess in her mind's movie: Reservations? Ummmm.... not sure...table for 2, date was coming, first time, nervous, is there a booth available?

The hostess attempts to not react to the middle aged woman following her, but her heart just feels for the poor thing, she looks like a deer in headlights, and the young girl makes a mental note not to take whatever roads she's traveled. As expected, they stop short of a tiny 2 top raft of a table lost in an ocean of established couples at larger tables made for at least 4 people. She is sinking fast as she's reminded of the kids table at Thanksgiving and how she's still being seated there due to her single spinster status.

She was definitely not in familiar waters anymore and felt utterly ridiculous when she should have been feeling like a goddess in her own right and thinking about how she wanted things to go if things went well.

Her skewed perception of reality started to hit her hard from all sides in her little "lifeboat" and she frantically searched for escape as she focused on deciding ahead of time if a tall vodka and pineapple would steady her nerves or if a smooth glass of her favourite Merlot might be the better way to swim for shore.

And then, just as she was beginning to drift much too far away from seeing things as they really are, an unbelievably intrusive blast of sound startles her so unexpectedly that she falls over herself landing comically in her oversized favourite puffy lounge chair.

The dramatic interruption gives her no time to react and she erupts into the welcome distraction of deep laughter. It's at this point, she is able to find some compassion for herself and her still fragile heart. She realises what she just put herself through before she even picked out a pair of pants to wear and decides to try taking a lighter approach with herself.

With that thought she sees another potential path where she shows up a full 30 minutes late, would need to valet her car, while she left her date wondering where she was.

Then just when he would begin to think she had stood him up feeling dejected and demoralised himself, she would come flying through the crowd, breathlessly, an onslaught of unintelligible apologies would fall from her face to the ground around her and he would probably take a moment to take this spectacle in.

Hey might find himself feeling quite a bit relieved that she finally showed up and might decide to relinquish his irritation about it and allow himself to be amused by her wild entrance.

He might even find it quite charming in a weird way and a new bad idea occurs to her: why not tell him that was a test to see if he could handle who she really is, not recognizing that her "charming" relationship with punctuality isn't who she is, it's something she does and ultimately can change if she has reason to.

She was suddenly, aware of how she had been completely self absorbed. In an instant her anxiety became anticipation as she actively wondered how she might use her time to think about what she wanted to go right between them instead of being so scared that her professionalism, manners, integrity, and self image got left behind along the way. She would never have acted this way with peers, why would she let her worst version show up for a first date?

Would she be a first date pioneer or would her night go up in flames before they even felt a spark? She wasn't sure, but at least now things felt a little more playful than painful, and that was as good a start as any.

Where are my manners? You want to know how the date actually went don't you? Well. When she took a few minutes to center herself and talk herself through some simple breathing meditations, she looked in the mirror one more time and realized that no matter what, she was going home with herself, and that meant she would never be alone again. If she gave herself a fighting chance to be known by someone else, she just might be surprised by a few new adventures. And she remembered that it takes 2 to make things work and that it was also important that he met her standards and needs as much as she met his. This was about learning who the other person is, not trying to be their dream made real.

When she got to the restaurant, he was waiting at a table with flowers and the hostess knew exactly what to do when she arrived. As she looked over the drink menu, she saw a very good omen: Her favorite wine was first on the list. She smiled and said, I think I'll have a glass of Jetbird Merlot, to which her date replied, I'll have the same, but bring us a bottle instead.

As she eased into a more comfortable place in her own skin, she raised her glass and proposed a toast: Here's to going with the flow and in Vino Veritas...may we be true to nothing but our deepest hearts and fear not what we have yet to know because when we can free our expectations... and go easy on ourselves, there is no unknown that can't be known and no place we can't dream to go. May we be courageous in our attempts to know and love ourselves and each other.

Salute!