Keep Telling Yourself That

Here it comes, that time of year where you promise yourself that you are going to lose weight, be nicer, work harder, save more money, sky dive or whatever. The thing is, if you really wanted to do all of this, if you were serious about making a resolution and keeping it, then what is the point of waiting? Why is January 1st the end all, be all of trying to be a better person, a more daring person, the person you ultimately want to be? What happens if you try your resolution and come February you fail, then what? You spend the rest of the year doing the same thing as last, feeling comfort in the fact you can give it another shot in about ten months. And you are okay with this because hey, at least you tried?

Well, I call bullshit.

It's a lovely thought but be honest. You have intentions. Admirable intentions but intending to do something is frankly a more inspiring way of saying, I'm just going to sit on my ass until I figure out what I want to do. People don't change overnight. You don't wake up after a champagne-filled, confetti-laced night ready to dominate the world, you just don't.

You only intend to.

The challenge that we face is to accept that we're not going to be everything we want to be in a day. We're going to make mistakes. We're going to do things we aren't supposed to. We're going to talk ourselves out of rational thought for the sake of short-term fun. I think we should make the effort to try to accept this. Look back at where you've been this past year, what you've gained and what you've lost and most importantly, what you've learned. Make a top ten list of the things you've learned. Better yet, make a top ten list of the best times you had. Figure out the people who were involved when these things happened and try to keep them around. Act like you're going to live in the moment but realize that this is virtually impossible without reliving your past or worrying about your future. Revisit old times, go back and do it again if you must but don't go the same way. Imagine where you want to be in five years but realize that a security plan only works for people who believe security equals happiness, which I'm sorry to say it doesn't.

There are things you may feel are unfinished from 2007, things you want to say or do or take back or change. You want all of this to be magically resolved by January 1, 2008 and this will not happen. Even if you do stick to some of your resolutions, just remember that it's okay to gain back the weight you lost. It's okay to overspend and do reckless things and never sky dive. Because there are more chances then New Year's Day to be a better person. You will have more than one chance....

to prove it.

Where's Ron Popeil When You Need Him?

I don’t know how God feels knowing that he’s being hookered out on late night television by some pseudo-minister promoting ‘miracle water’ but I’m sure it’s not good. Supposedly by drinking this water, it makes you the recipient of several thousands of dollars. I found this out in the wee hours of the morning while I experienced a glimpse into the life of an insomniac.

I pride myself in my sleep habits. I am capable of sleeping anywhere, anytime. My mom says when I was younger, if we were in the car and she said, ‘Take a nap,” I would immediately close my eyes and be out. I'm sure I was just waiting for her to say the magic words to give me permission to doze off. I accidentally cuddle with strangers on airplanes before take off (hey, those seats are small). I have slept a 10-hour night only to take a 3-hour nap later that afternoon. I love to sleep. So, imagine my disgust when last night I woke up at 3:30 in the morning wide awake, lying in bed repeating to myself, why are you awake, why are you awake. Thinking that bad television would cause my mind to drift into peaceful sleep once more, I switched it on only to find minister man, miracle water and prayer promises that are supposed to guarantee you money. It got me thinking, what if I called this man and he swore that I would be receiving money on Thanksgiving and then I didn’t. Could I sue for false advertising?

As if he wasn’t bad enough, I turned to the ever boring, ever unnecessary channel that is the Home Shopping Network.I didn’t think this really existed. I mean the things they sell, the clothes they wear. It looked more like a Saturday Night Live spoof, than a real promotion of crap. First item up, Casio Light-Up Keyboard. Oh. My. God. First of all, homeboy selling the item was wearing a pink polo under a bright blue v-neck sweater merrily following the keyboard lights convincing himself and other morons that he was learning to play ‘You’ve Got A Friend’. For three payments of sixty-nine dollars or something, you too could look like a complete tool. Up next for sale in twenty-nine minutes and forty-two seconds, a roaster/chafing machine. Next.

NEXT is exactly what I switched to. I thought surely MTV would be showing an old episode of Cribs or some other less popular show that would provide a little, mindless entertainment but no. Instead they were showing the dating show that has the worst actors who are also the worst looking people all crammed together on a bus trying to last the longest on a date that they don’t really want to be on anyway. Fuck insomnia.

But at last I found my solace as I switched to Fox. Fox, I believe, is the sleaziest of the news stations. I don’t know why I think this, maybe because of the newscasters or the Fox News Problem Solvers but I have a hard time believing what I see on Fox. Therefore, Fox is my favorite. Lucky for me they were showing COPS and it was the Wichita PD being followed. Ugly woman officer pulls over a car with two men for suspicion of drunk driving. When pulled over and asked for registration, she spots a gun in the glove box. She barks at them to get out of the car, hands where she can see them, calling for back up followed by passenger and driver both claiming that the gun is not theirs. Good thing for faceless girl, who as a backseat passenger tattles on the front passenger pulling the gun from his pocket and putting it in the glove compartment. Nothing like COPS breaking it down for us Midwest style to help a girl get some sleep.

I think they should have a channel that has a spinning bullseye and a voice repeating, you are getting very sleepy. Once in awhile I have these insomniac spurts and it makes me sympathize with those who have real sleeping problems or work late shifts and have to watch the crap that is televised between the hours of 2 and 5 a.m.; because honestly many more nights of that and I will seriously have to invest in some porn.

Your Not Enough is My Too Much

What is it that I said before? The challenge is accepting the trade off, the fact that in order to see what you think might be worth it in the end, you have to endure the drama that is now. I must've thought this during an optimistic blackout. Do you know that you have to like a person at the very same time they like you and even if they like you and you like them, each other has to be on the top of the other's list? I could like Boy who likes Girl Not Me while Other Random Boy likes me, like a menage a trois that no one is directly involved in. Someone can like you at the same time you like them, it just might not be enough. Or it may be enough but one or the other is not one hundred percent sure and god forbid we try something we're only ninety-nine percent sure about that has a fifty percent chance of failure anyway. I didn't make the rules. That's just how it goes. Luckily, the optimistic self has meshed well with the cynical self and has created reserve lists.

A reserve list is a list of people that we like, who like us, who are cute, nice, say witty things but for some reason can't bump that seemingly unattainable, impossibly unpredictable number one that drives us crazy yet makes us happy off the list. The reserve list can include but is not limited to: friends with benefits, exes, random, semi-anonymous people we meet at bars or other inappropriate places. The trouble with the reserves is that rarely do they move up in ranking; therefore, defeating the purpose of the list in the first place. Does this all seem exhausting?

Now you know how I feel.

We use the list to make sure we're not missing out on anything while certain males out there turtle around, wanting us to wait for them to make their move. We can be ahead of the race, found others who can keep pace and then the turtle finally reaches the finish line and is upset that we didn't wait for them to come around. Can I get a 'what the fuck'? Guys don't want you to be desperate. They don't want you to be too much work. They want you to make the first move. They want to chase. They say they like you. They never call. Consistent only in their inconsistency. And the thing is, we put up with it. Of course it's because we base who we want on things other than consistency, reliability, and comfort. We know it's safer to drive the mini-van but we want the Porsche.

So what's the answer?

We try all methods and see that none of them work. We play the game and decide we're not going to follow the rules. We ride out the drama and hope that it really is worth it in the end. The answer is we will only do, can only do what seems like the best idea at the time. Anything else it seems is too much to ask for.

Shake Your Money Maker

If I could list all of the brilliant plans that my friends and I have come up with in the past year, it would astound you. Creating a team of drunks. Beer-bonging while floating down a river in a canoe. Baking cupcakes for deejays. Genius, I tell you. But none have been as profitable as our latest idea. We have created the adult equivalent of having a lemonade stand.

It all started one night in an unknown bar for a birthday celebration of a hardly known person when I found myself in need of a soft pretzel with cheese. I was sitting at a table full of strangers, trying to make new friends when my eye caught sight of the deal of the day. For only $2.75 I could get one and I thought if i could get eleven people to each donate a quarter to my need, then I would be in soft pretzel heaven. Even though I nearly failed economics in college this example of supply and demand was not a hard one to figure out, even after a couple of drinks. Unfortunately, one of my friends was the only donor and I thought maybe it was because we were at the bar and no one had spare change, just credit cards. However, after further investigation I found this not to be true at all. The collecting of quarters is actually a formerly undiscovered hobby that my friends and I have breathed life into.

People don't part with cash very well but loose change, no problem. It's amazing how many people are willing to give up a quarter to a complete stranger without asking any questions. It's also amazing with what ease comes our flippant answer when asked what we're going to use the quarter for. The answer that answers all questions.

Don't worry about it.

We took our coin collecting one step further when manning the door of our bar. By manning the door I mean we posed as the doormen. We dressed up in handmade t-shirts with the doormen names on the back in iron-on letters and checked ID's, asked for quarters. We didn't charge a quarter, we just asked. Ask and you shall receive. The amount of quarters collected so far could rival and probably far exceed any 10-year old lemonade stand's profit. And it can definitely buy enough soft pretzels to satisfy my cravings.

I know you must think, haven't people caught on to your devious plan? Maybe they have but they're not saying anything. I think the question catches them off guard. They say 'yes' and start digging in their pockets, hoping they have a quarter to give our eager beavering souls. And then after we smile sweetly and thank them, they think, what the hell just happened? I know you must also think why would a bunch of 20-something year-old girls panhandle people for twenty-five cents. Don't be jealous. You know you wish you would've thought of it first. Who knows what we'll come up with next.

Stay tuned.

If You Can't Take the Heat

We're supposed to teach children to not touch a hot burner. It's so bright and inviting that a child's instinct is to want to touch it. No matter how much we tell them not to, how much it will hurt, their little hand wants to reach out and feel for themselves. If the child does this, if he or she gets one millisecond of the heat that comes from the burner, they will see for themselves that we weren't being militant adults, we were just trying to help them from getting hurt. When really though the thing that made them learn was getting burned. You can see where this is going.

I have a friend who dates inappropriate people. By inappropriate I mean horribly selfish, self-absorbed, narcissistic man whores. She wears her heart on her sleeve and gives any walking Joe a chance to take it and mash it up in his hands, which usually he does. She dated one guy in particular that we would fight about because I knew what kind of person he really was. He was a person that would play mind games, tell her things she wanted to hear but never followed through, made her feel inadequate, desperate and unworthy when in reality she was amazing, beautiful and of course could do so much better than him. Every time she let him back in and I had to listen to her complain about him letting her down it fueled the fire of our fights.

Years later, not that long ago though, I finally got it. I called her up and said I get it, what you were doing. She had to see for herself. She had to see if she was going to get burned. It didn't matter what I said, because half of the time she knew I was right, she just wanted to prove me wrong. She wanted to prove that the person that we fought so much about really was her Jake Ryan and I was a judgmental fool for thinking otherwise. But it wasn't my decision to make, wasn't my life it was affecting, no matter how hard I tried to make it that way.

I let my concern for her overpower what she was indirectly trying to tell me. She didn't care. At the time, she didn't care she was getting burned. Only she could decide when enough was enough and for me to fight with her and lecture her, it was only making it look that much more inviting. Why do we eat fast food if we know it's full of fat and cholesterol that will clog our arteries? Why do people smoke? Why do people do things that are bad for them when everyone around them is telling them not to? Because until they get burned, it seems like a good idea at the time.

People set different limits for themselves and are ultimately going to do exactly what they want no matter what anyone says. And for the most part, this is a very good way to live life. You listen to too many people and you forget how to make your own decisions, learn from your mistakes, find out what really makes you happy. We want something to show for our scars. Guess we have to remember that you have to go ahead and touch the burner to know just how good it feels when you take your hand away.

How We Do

Have you ever been asked why girls can't go to the bathroom by themselves? We can, we just don't like to. Why, you ask. Well, it's probably because we're talking about you. That's right, I'll say it. Girls are judgmental, gossipy, giggly and dramatic and we talk all about it in the bathroom. But guess what, guys are the same way sans the giggly part. Sure, they may not go to the bathroom to discuss the important details of the night but honestly sometimes the bathroom is the only place we can actually hear. It's just part of our girl bar behavior. Guys have it too, though getting them to 'fess up to it is a struggle.

GBB is necessary for many reasons. For example, there have been many times when my friends have had to save me (and vice-versa) on the dance floor when any movement by us has caused strangers to place their hands on parts of our body only mentioned in rap songs. We don't have to say anything, we just know when we need to intervene. We take our friend's hand and slowly pull them away. This is our way of saying, no, I don't want to dance with you. Just because you want to lean in and touch my ass doesn't mean you get to. You don't need to know my name. I'm not Mary and you are not my little lamb. I'm sorry I even looked in your direction. It was a mistake. Get over it.

Then there is always the GBB known simply as the 'Eyes'. The Eyes are used if any of the following happens to walk through the door: ex-boyfriends, ex-booty calls, current booty calls, current crushes, or people we have to make the Eyes for because you just have to look. By the eyes alone you can usually tell if it's going to be someone you want to see. If it's a crush then the eyes are usually accompanied by big smiles and in my case, my friends will usually alert me with a not-so-subtle announcement of, 'Your boyfriend is here!' that he undoubtedly hears. Which leads me to Dibs.

Dibs are called when someone in the group sees a hot guy and wants to claim territory. Usually Dibs aren't necessary in this situation because if we have dibs, the guy will already have a nickname that we've created for him. More often Dibs are called when someone in the group sees a guy very much not hot, usually wearing something out of place, i.e. cut-off jean shorts, leather vests, etc. I already said we were judgmental, what do you want me to say? Honesty sometimes is the best policy. But then again so is lying.

Lying at a bar is as common as praying in church. It may be done silently or out loud. Now depending on my level of intoxication, level of boredom or level of annoyance my lies will range from name to age to location. On any given night I could be a no-name, twenty-one year old who just flew in from LA for reasons that do not need to be revealed which is when the GBB line, "Don't worry about it" comes in. If I tell you, "Don't worry about it" it means stop talking, stop asking questions or my way of telling you that I'm lying to you but kind of feel bad now because you believed me and seem like a nice person. Lying also used to be effective if you told a guy you weren't interested in that you already have a boyfriend but lately this does not seem to deter them.

Now I believe guys refer to this next behavior as having a wingman. You are sent to play the role of the entertainer to the friend of the person that your friend is talking to; there solely to dispel any awkward pauses, tell jokes, say sexually inappropriate things and talk up your friend as much as possible without looking obvious. Also there to get needed details about the guy in a subtle way, these details which come much easier from his friend who has become much more loose-lipped as we decided to take shots. And by we, I mean I.

And finally there is the 'emergency stop right there' move. I like this because it cuts right to the chase. Sometimes a guy will feel the need to do or say something that offends me in such a way that it stops me in my tracks. The 'flow' they're feeling comes to an abrupt halt as I stop dancing, talking, whatever I'm doing to stare them in the face and ask them what they think they're doing. I feel that by doing this it will remind them of being scolded by their mother and no guy wants that. Or in some rare cases maybe they do, which makes for a whole other set of problems.

So there you have it. You've all done it, witnessed it, will start doing it now. This is just a small taste of what's really going on as you're sipping your martini or chugging your beer. Who knew bars could be so complicated?

No wonder everyone feels like getting tanked.

The Birth of the DT

About seven months ago some friends and I went to our old stomping grounds to watch our alma mater play in the NCAA tournament. Our team, so close to the championship game, fell short and we felt there was nothing left to do but drink our sorrows away. Luckily for us the bar we were at had the wonderful invention, that which is the beer tower, a mini-keg of sorts with its very own spout. Seven beer towers later, a few shots, dollar drinks and a dance floor and a team was born. The drinking team to be exact.

Since then DT has recruited several members but only the originals have the shirts to prove it. We are like Girl Scouts gone wild. By day we camp, bake, grocery shop, play trivia and kickball all as a team. By night we drink, dance, and make no excuses for our behavior. It's become a cult following of sorts because everyone wants to know all our secrets, where we going, what we'll be up to next. Our bar recently reserved a table for us using an orange construction cone, which seems appropriate as we always seem to to be hard at work. However, I'm beginning to think they should've used caution tape instead because we stir up all the craziness at the bar and live through the drama that happens after. We may end up all over during the night but at closing time we come together as a team.

We've learned how to smell a bar fight. Know the DJs and bouncers by name. We know how to navigate to the nearest IHOP no matter how many drinks have been consumed. And we never turn down a free shot. There are probably people who think, they're not part of a team, they're just a bunch of girls who like to party. I beg to differ. DT is an idea that you wish you thought of first. The name will haunt you. If you've met us, part of you is always waiting for that moment of the night when the first one of us arrives. And if you haven't met us yet, then buckle your seatbelts, sit back and prepare yourself for the ride.

Can I Get the Definition, Please?

I had a FWB that was fun to hang out with but not one to have serious feelings towards. He was single and so was I, the perfect equation for just having fun. Until I found out from a mutual friend that my FWB had a GF. When I asked my FWB about his GF, he said that they had an open relationship. As in, they could date other people. As in, the 'don't ask, don't tell' rule. People in open relationships want their cake and want to eat it too. Usually one or neither of them really want to be in an open relationship but come to find that that is the only kind of relationship that will work for them. That's the first problem. Although FWB and my 'relationship' was defined by no strings attached and fun for as long as it lasted, I still believed I deserved honesty. I mean the first word of FWB is friend so I deserved to at least be informed. Because the inclusion of a GF usually makes the fun stop and the drama begin. The FWB line becomes fuzzy, the definition of what you are in the equation is unclear.

By the time you are in your twenties, you will have been on a date with somene who already has a girlfriend. You will probably sleep with someone who already has a girlfriend. The time span that you find this out can be within the first five minutes or after the first five months. When you begin talking to someone, hanging out with them in a more than friendly way it is fair to believe that you are the only one he is talking to, hanging out with and it is shocking when you find out that your potential one and only already has a one and only himself. So what do you do? The simple answer is to end the relationship, move on and find someone a little more single. But of course nothing in life is that simple. Because usually by the time you have found this information out, you have already invested feelings of some kind.

I saw my FWB through three girlfriends. Note to his current girlfriend: monogamy is not in his vocabulary. And while I was smart enough to realize that while he had a serious girlfriend, that he and I were never going to be anything more than FWB, I still couldn't help but feel attached. It wasn't the romantic aspect of it. It was more like a project, a mission to try and change him into a person that with a little work could be someone with future relationship potential. I knew it wasn't going to be happily ever after. Knowing him before the talking and hanging out kind of ruined this ideal but I couldn't help but be curious as to why. Why would you have a girlfriend and sleep with someone else? Or okay, okay if it was just for the pure physical attraction, why have conversations that last until sunrise and consist of everything from religion to how you want to raise your children to why you are the cheating bastard you are? Why would you call to tell me all about your new job and have me listen to the reasons why you think you should break up with your girlfriend knowing I would just tell you reasons why you shouldn't. And, most importantly why didn't you just stop calling me like I asked?

Experience, mine and others, has shown that a big part of this need to have a girlfriend has to do with security. Security that this person who deems worthy of the girlfriend title seems to offer because of monetary reasons, willingness to the look the other way, or lack of locality. That makes me non-girlfriend material because I don't have any money, I'm not willing to the look the other way and I am right here. Yet, I am good for moral awareness, late night counseling and the attraction factor, throw in the grass is always greener and the thrill of the chase and I guess it makes it harder to let go.

I know that if karmic retribution was doing its job, then down the road I will be in a serious relationship, be blissfully happy and find out that my true love is seeing someone else. I know that people will say I deserve this and maybe I do. But did you ever think that maybe it's not my fault? It's not the cheatee or the cheater's fault even. It's just a significant snag in the slow unraveling that can always be blamed for the final disintegration of a relationship. There is a reason that it's happening and that reason has nothing to do with me. But I will accept the responsibility. I will accept the blame. But I'm not sorry. If nothing else, it opens everyone's eyes as to what the relationship is really about. Because most of the time, at this stage of the game, I'm able to get out relatively unharmed and he is left still cheating and happy or monogamous and miserable or at best suffering from mediocrity. As far as the girlfriend, maybe she believes she is happy too and if her eyes do become opened to reality, she will have to decide whether to grin and bear it or cut and run. And if you think the true love of your life would cheat on you, if you would accept that, then honestly you don't have to explain to anyone why you will decide to stay. I understand that love makes you do crazy things. It makes you forget how to cut and run.

Love is an imperfect thing. Lust even more so. If you have been the cheater, the cheetee, the other person, whoever, sometimes no one is to blame. We all make mistakes and things happen that break us but, not forever. I know all of you with boyfriends are right now hoping that I have the love of my life cheat on me, that when this happens I will be singing a different song but it's not going to happen. Ironically, I say this honestly, if he is the true love of my life then he will be incapable of doing that to me. You may have room for that in your definition but I don't in mine.

This Isn't Once Upon a Time

Have you ever been dumped and have someone tell you, don't worry you'll find someone better and you know that the person who said this was trying to be supportive but it ended up making you feel more like shit? It's because you feel like an asshole for liking someone that ended up making you look like a fool or hurt your feelings or in the worse case scenario broke your heart. It's because although you might know you need to/can find someone better, you just might not be ready yet.

I had my crush of two months come to a screeching halt when I witnessed him full-on, drunkenly making out with what I'm assuming to be some random bar chick. I know, I know we've all been there making out with inappropriate people at inappropriate times but it annoyed me, bummed me out and more than that it prompted more than one of my friends to say, don't worry you'll find someone better. To me that's like saying, don't worry you could have, have done and will do again much worse than liking someone like him. Which sadly is true but, is it so bad that I still would like to have a crush on the boy?

One of my other friends wonders why I can't and I told her that while I still think he's cute, nice guy, blah, blah, whatever, he can't be a crush anymore. He's filed himself under You Know, That One Guy. I know that people aren't perfect, make mistakes, have flaws but I expect to see this after the crush phase, after a date, after something. It's like being told a fairy tale and then right in the middle saying that Cinderella arrives in her beautiful gown only to see Prince Charming grinding with her skanky stepsister.

Definitely a downer.

I'm guess I'm just reaching a point in my life where the hangovers seem harder to get over, all tolerance levels have decreased and my expectations have increased. This makes me feel old which in turn makes me feel tired. Too tired to try and find someone better. And really, isn't it his turn to find me? I know they say you have to kiss a lot of frogs before you find your prince. But I say, don't you know frogs give you warts and once you get warts, stick a fork in it, you're done. And I'm sorry to say this but he probably got them from the skanky stepsister.

Son of a bitch.

Try to Keep Up, Turtle

So the question was: If the turtle isn't going anywhere, shouldn't he be taken out of the race?

He's not taken out of the race but he's left on his own. Because what I didn't tell you is at this annual hometown event, it wasn't just the race, there was a parade, free sno cones and a barbecue. Once the turtles who were going to place made it across the line, then everyone else scooped up their losing turtles and went about their days. Better yet, some left their turtles to live the lives they were going to live before the race was even an idea. I wanted my turtle to win, to at least cross the finish line but with him not budging I should have known that I needed to go my way and he needed to go his. Me watching him and willing him to move was a fruitless effort. Maybe it just wasn't the right time or the right turtle.

Maybe he would've crossed that line eventually but I'm sure by that time I would be eating my third sno cone. I would be participating in the parade. I would have forgotten about the race and know if he came looking for me, he would never be able to catch up unless I decided to slow down.

And I don't really see that happening.

If Nothing Else, Remember to Order the Nachos

When I was 21, I was a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed college graduate ready to fulfill my dream of living in New York City. I had all the verve and courage to follow through and move to a city without a job or friends or really any idea of what I was doing. It has been the highlight of my life so far and five years later I can't help but miss that girl. I'm finding it a struggle to move forward, to understand that I can't, won't be as carefree as I once was. If that was the peak of my life, is it all downhill from here?

Since then siblings have gotten married, friends have had babies, people have graduated and still the main event of my life is something that occurred five years ago. Yet, at the same time I am enjoying the moment. Life being such a surprise that one week you can have your heart broken and the very next it's beating stronger than ever. Reaching a point where perspective makes you see that one mistake, one embarrassment doesn't make or break you. Enjoying the excitement of the unknown and rolling with the punches of everything else. So maybe getting older is making me get a tad sentimental but I feel I should dispense a little of what I've learned in the past 25 years.

I've learned that you have to make your own rules. That these rules can change, be ignored or enforced as needed. That no one can tell you that you're playing the game, any game, right or wrong because you're the captain, not them.

I've learned to follow your heart but use your head and that in the middle of the two is your gut and that is usually the best thing to listen to.

I've learned drama is better seen and not lived. Though it may seem exciting in the moment, it's not worth the energy dispensed and if walking away makes it easier then that's exactly what needs to be done.

I've learned that if you are lucky, your friends are your family and family are your friends.

I've learned that hearts can be healed, not with time or understanding or lamenting over what is lost. Hearts are healed by letting the good grow over the bad but understanding it's just as much the bad that got you here as it is the good.

I've learned that you should dance like absolutely everyone is watching and love like you have been hurt because there's no point in pretending.

I've learned to learn from your mistakes but don't sweat it if the very same thing happens again. And again.

I've learned apologies come in all forms and some forms are just unacceptable and therefore do not have to be accepted. Sorry gets redundant if that's the only thing you ever hear.

I've learned when in doubt order the nachos.

I've learned to be true to yourself, never settle for what you know is mediocre, don't change your mind to follow the herd, you're all out in the same pasture anyway.

I've learned that singing in the car is better if someone catches you doing it.

I've learned that some people love to be chased but not all of them necessarily want to be caught.

I've learned that no matter what anyone says, what they think you should do, believe or feel in your life, it's ultimately up to you, you just have to do it your own way.

I've learned you'll get over it.

And finally, I've learned that just when you think that it's all over, life will surprise you, so stay where you are so you don't miss a single moment.

Turtle Race

My hometown has a tradition where every 4th of July there is a turtle race. Just as it sounds, your turtle gets a number painted on his back and then he is placed within a big chalk-lined circle to race the other turtles to the outside. Yes, I am from a small town and yes, this was entertaining. Unless you are me. Most of the turtles would start going right away, some faster than others of course. Not mine. He stayed in one place, maybe taking one or two steps and then seemingly exhausted failed to move again. The other turtles were making their way to the outside of the circle and despite coaxing from me, my turtle did not budge. I thought nothing could move slower. I was wrong. There is someone slower.

Here's the situation:
Girl spends part of evening chatting with crush and subsequently ends up sending him an email which he does not respond to. Never one to give up on the first try, girl sends another email that which crush responds to but then she doesn't see or hear from him for two months. Next time she sees him, they again have a lovely conversation which leads girl to email crush her phone number only to have her phone take a vow of silence. Within a week, girl sees crush yet again and shamelessly reminds him that he has her phone number and nothing. This is the point where girl is to go home, listen to sad, wailing music and eat Ben & Jerry's while contemplating never coming out of her apartment again, right?

Optimists will say, no, hang in there girl. He's talked to you. He's responded to your email, don't be so quick to give up. But don't you think girl needs something to verify that he may actually be interested in her versus the fact that he is just a nice guy who responds when people email and talk to him? If there is a slim chance that crush likes girl, then he's not showing it and if he's showing it, he is moving at a very slow pace. Not unlike my turtle. What is the time limit before effort and energy becomes a futile attempt worthy of an entry in the sequel of 'He's Just Not That Into You'?

I mean the turtle isn't going anywhere, shouldn't he be taken out of the race?

To be continued...

Plan A

I am getting ready to start a new job in a week and I've had a few friends bring to my attention the fact that I tend to switch jobs quite a bit. I was ready to protest when I realized that this will be my fifth job in six years. Am I really such a job slut? I think the reason I don't settle into a career is because, like I tell my mom, I'm just not the working kind. I want to write. For a living. Everything else is a time filler, bill payer. Why is that so hard to understand? I don't like 9 to 5. I don't like thinking I'm going to be doing the same thing for the next thirty years. I've been told I just haven't worked somewhere challenging enough but I don't find it gratifying to have a challenging job, mainly I just find it a pain in the ass. All of it. The jobs, the bosses, the coworkers and everything in between.

Most jobs require some interaction with other people and these people expect you to be happy 24/7. They expect to hear excitement in your voice first thing in the morning and are astounded when what they want sometimes you can't give to them. I'm not happy first thing in the morning. I don't wake up jumping out of bed looking forward to a new day. I need coffee. I need peace and quiet before people start demanding things from me. I need time for my brain to wake up. I don't know how I'm going to overcome this when I have children but that is something for a whole other day.

I feel I got gypped as far as my college education. I don't say this because I didn't go to a great school, have fantastic teachers or have the best time of my life, because I did. I say this because having a college degree doesn't mean a whole hell of a lot. Employers want you to have a master's degree at the least, want you to have worked in the Peace Corps, found the cure for cancer and climbed Mount Everest all in the same year. They always want more and more and more. And my answer is no. No, no, no. Although I'm punctual, responsible, reliable, an excellent employee, I don't take pride in this. I don't feel better about myself because I do a good job. I feel better about myself when I make someone happy, when I fix someone's problem. I feel better when I feel like I've experienced something exciting or traveled somewhere new. Sitting at a desk for eight hours doesn't make me feel like an important contribution to society.

In the back of everyone's mind I feel they want to know what I'm planning to do if this writing thing doesn't pan out. What my plan B will be. I don't have plan B's. I have plan A. Plan A is doing what I want. Plan A is refusing to be rushed or pressured into a life that I don't want to live. I won't feel inadequate because I job hop. I have waited forever to have this kind of freedom where whatever I decide to do with my life is up to me and only me. I don't know if you really ever have the chance to be so selfish except for after school and before marriage, so I am going to take full advantage.

So all of you with a backup plan maybe you are smarter than I, more prepared. But then again maybe you're just scared that what you really want isn't what you're going to get and you will settle for a runner-up, plan B kind of life. And that might work for you. But not for me. I told you, I'm not the working kind.

Duck Duck Goose

We've all been there whether we want to admit it or not. We've been chosen as the goose and have had no choice but to get up and chase the tagger around. We may not have been interested in Tagger, may have even closed our eyes and silently begged Tagger not to choose us but if you get tagged, you have to chase.

That's how you play the game.

At one time or another we have all been tagged. Tagged by the one that is charming and cute in such a way it makes you nervous but excited at the same time. But also the one that you try to picture hanging out with your friends, attending your family functions knowing in your gut, in your heart of hearts, something doesn't quite fit because Tagger is going to be the one that you know deep down will never be the person you fully intend him to be. You may have thought that he showed some promising characteristics at the beginning but in the end he confirmed that he is unchangeable and will forever be a non-committal, probably cheating, frustrating, cute as hell tagger.

My tagger was someone who I was never attracted to in the beginning. I'm not blind so I knew he was good-looking but his arrogant attitude was enough to annoy me to the point of steering clear whenever he was around. I was able to bypass him for quite a long time before the unexpected, inexplicable night came when I thought maybe, just maybe, Tagger had something beneath the surface that hadn't yet been discovered. Here let me interject and say, it is never a good idea to compare a guy to one of the Seven Wonders of the World. They don't need to be discovered. There's nothing so deep below the surface that you have to dig for years to find the hidden secret to a revealing past. If you haven't found it by now, it's probably not there. It still doesn't stop you from searching though, through the arrogance, through his selfishness which was only his way of protecting an earlier hurt which you had no part of but since it is female nature to want to nurture those who are hurt, I thought that if I gave it a try, was patient and understanding enough that the wall he had worked so hard at building up would come crumbling down and everyone would see the kindhearted person who hid underneath. This did not happen.

Shocker.

It's not that Tagger was intentionally hurtful but, his thoughtfulness was only revealed on his own terms, on his own time and I'm not one for these kind of conditional situations. Yet, I kept trying and waiting, going back and forth, even giving up the chase always having the game lead me back to him. But just like any blinded attraction, I finally saw the truth, accepted it when the explanations failed to convince me that being involved was sadly not worth it. The end comes when the game stops being fun. The one thing that may have turned it around would be his acceptance of his damaged ways, which he finally admitted to but also his intention to fix them, which he didn't wholeheartedly agree to. He said he wanted to try and change but it wasn't enough. I was done with the chase. Game over.

If I sound like a fool, then maybe I was. But you can be the most level-headed, confident person and if tagged, you can turn into someone who feels like you have failed in some way because far beyond any romantic feelings you may ever have felt, it becomes more of a need to fix something that you didn't even break. You will feel like you didn't care enough, didn't wait it out, didn't have enough faith eventually realizing that it is them, not you. You'll realize it's their responsibility to stop using their past hurt as an excuse for their present behavior because we have all had our heart broken in some way, maybe mulitiple times and if we all chose to dwell on that alone, lamented about being misunderstood to everyone that crossed our path, then we would be on a way to a very lonely and miserable existence.

What can I say? I was the goose. Sitting there wasn't an option. We long for the excitement, the thrill of the chase. Otherwise, we'd take ourselves out of the circle and then what fun would that be?

Because really, who wants to miss out on the game?

Saving Up for Tomorrow

My grandma used to think she was going to win the Publisher's Clearinghouse. Everytime I went to her house she would have the forms piled up ready for me to fill out and send, in the hopes that Ed McMahon would arrive at her door with a big check and multi-colored balloons. I feel that I take after my grandma. I too have a feeling that any day my ship is going to come in, that I am going to win the Powerball or that my long lost great-great-great relative will reveal that I am actually the next in line to be the ruler of some foreign country. However, it has come to my attention via my older brother that this is unlikely. This harsh reality mixed with the fact that I am not money savvy leads me to entertain the thought that maybe I should quit relying on the non-existent fact that I am seconds away from a becoming a bazillionaire and accept that any money I do have should be used toward things like new tires or dentist bills.

The fact that I'm not good with money, except for the art of spending it, isn't new information. I never kept money in a piggy bank. I felt nickels and dimes were much more fun jingling in my pocket then in a ceramic pig. I pay for Taco Bell with quarters on a regular basis and the last time my mom saw the insides of my refrigerator, which contained a tub of butter, eggs, and a Brita pitcher, I thought she was going to cry. I realize that it's nice to have a plan for the future, for retirement, for the fact that one day I may have someone other than myself to think about; however, none of that is happening right now. It's hard for me to wrap my head around where I'm going to be in ten or twenty years when I don't even know where I'll be next week. It's confusing really when everyone is assuring me that by being in my 20's that I'm considered young, yet I'm feeling the push to hurry and become responsible, settled and financially sound. I mean do I have to have it figured out right this minute? What if Ed McMahon is pulling up in the parking lot as we speak?

There are some people who if they were down to their last ten dollars they would save it, fill up their tank with gas or buy ten dollars worth of groceries. If I was down to my last ten dollars (and I have been many times) I would grab a drink, go to a movie, buy myself a milkshake. Because the truth is, I can be poor and miserable or be poor and happy and if I die tomorrow you know I'll be thankful I bought that milkshake and not a freaking loaf of bread. I know most people think this is a naive way of thinking, that of course they too would want to spend their money on impractical, instantly gratifying things but what about bills, groceries, rent? What about them? They don't go away because I stay in every weekend or eat the same thing for a week. I've already tested that theory.

Granted there is something to be said for saving and building good credit. I do want to have a house, a zero balance on my Visa and a nest egg and I'm sure I'll have that. Some day. But why do today what you can put off until tomorrow? I can hear the scoffs, the groans, all the lectures now but can I tell you a secret? Not to be a complete brat but, it's my life. My choices. My mistakes. I'm not going to start a 401k to appease my brother. I'm not going to stop ordering milkshakes. I think by this age you are expected to have a budget, savings plan and a credit card to be used in case of emergency only. I have none of the above. I see the timeline of events and I feel that I got tripped up and I'm still trying to find my footing.

So maybe I'm financially behind for my age group. Maybe I'm not going to win the lottery. And maybe my tombstone isn't going to read 'Here Lies a Money Saver'. But here's the thing, I don't have to map out my financial future and turn it in for review. Money won't ever be on my list of achievements or on a list of my failures for that matter. I don't believe in an in case of emergency plan so don't hold your breath that I'm going to figure this out today. That is what tomorrow is for. And if tomorrow never comes, well then, none of this will even matter.

You Know, That One Guy

Weren't you disappointed when during the last episode of Sex and the City we found out that Mr. Big's first name is John. Really? That's it? Not that John isn't a perfectly lovely name but all the mystery, intrigue, and sexiness that had fluttered around Mr. Big for six seasons had been reduced to one of the most common names in America. A similar incident happened to me recently when within seconds my cute, musically-inclined crush turned into another 20-something guy from the 913. Just like when Toto revealed that the Wizard of Oz wasn't a wizard but just some man from Iowa or somewhere. Talk about a let down.

There is something to be said for the unknown. By having crushes on people you've never met, you can stand confident wearing your rose-colored glasses. The perfect facade isn't shattered by the cynical judgment which usually follows after you've seen them dance, heard them laugh or had long awkward moments of silence when trying to talk to them. Is the reason why it's so easy to crush because when you actually really like someone, you have to try? With a crush I can send grade school handwritten notes. With someone I like, it's agony to find just the right words to use when sending a three sentence email. Then I have to worry, did my email sound too forward? I don't want to sound desperate. Will he respond? I psyche myself out over a three sentence email like it's a revelation to the meaning of life.

Before someone changes from a flirtatious crush to someone worthy of liking for the real deal, they usually get dubbed with a nickname. Without nicknames, your friends are going to ask, Travis? Who's Travis? And you'll have to say, you know that guy from three weeks ago that was talking to your high school classmate's boyfriend's neighbor. It helps your friends visiualize who you are talking about. Using descriptive words usually help the most, i.e. the guy wearing the red hat. That way whenever you want to talk about him but not explain who he is over and over, all you have to say is you know, Red Hat. Here, let's try it in a sentence.

Me: Don't look now but my crush just walked in the door.
Friend: Which one? Red Hat?

In the past the following nicknames have been used: Eye Candy, Iowa, Mr. Pottery Barn, DJ, OJ, Bartender, and several references of You Know, That One Guy. Of course, in our secret girl way of wanting to see a fairytale ending, we hope that You Know, That One Guy will turn into The Guy but until then, it's much easier to use the nicknames; that way if they ever become disposable, which they usually do, at least their names can be recycled. Now guys might not like this, the fact they have been reduced to a nickname usually not representative of who they are as a person but I say as long as the nickname isn't Jackass, Fuck Face or anything similar then they have nothing to worry about.

The crush is the best (if not the only) part of a potential relationship. Why personalize a crush if it's nothing more than that? When it's something fun to look at, talk about, why make it into something that it's not? Because before the reality of if a relationship can develop sets in, anything goes. Cynicism is kept at bay. Giddiness ensues. All bets are off because anonymity is noncommittal.

And with an outlook like that who needs names?

Cheers to the PALS of America!

Parents teach their children, if you can't say something nice don't say anything at all. I say, if you can't say something nice, say it to my face. I am a big girl and though I still get hurt feelings, they usually don't come from strangers who find a need to take out their aggression in a Jerry Springer-like manner. I am not a fan of the passive-aggressive behavior that stems from some people's muttered comments, rolled eyes or even worse, anonymous emails laced with grammatically incorrect profanity. If you're going to insult me, at least keep it simple and exclude the triple negative of 'you no good, don't knower are nothing'. I mean c'mon, knife to my chest with that insult.

Typically speaking this type of behavior can be showcased by PALS (passive-aggressive losers), dramatics who like to stir up trouble for no other reason then they must not get cable or know how to read because their time is spent creating fake MySpace pages and sending anonymous emails. Let me say ladies, there are much better ways to spend ten minutes. You can shop. Read a magazine. Attend an anger management seminar. Also inevitably, these acts of cattiness seem to involve a guy who has been caught in the middle of a very odd love triangle, a triangle arranged by PAL. Either the girl is a strange admirer, jealous of the fact that you are dating her wannabe boyfriend or better yet the girl is your boyfriend's girlfriend too. Got that? I believe the madness stems from the fact that PAL has been kept in the dark about her boy's extracurriculars or the fact that her object of infatuation has absolutely no idea who she is and when he said 'hi' to her the other day it did not create a connection. At least not in his mind.

The point of the matter is what is the point? Anonymous, semi-threatening emails or phone calls are good for a laugh but don't evoke fear or whatever other emotion that the sender is hoping for. So I'm thinking, is this just an acting out of frustration or an inherent need for drama because either way, like I said, ten minutes there is so much more you can do. The problem stems from a level of insecurity that either needs to be taken up with the guy who is involuntarily involved or just left alone. I say go for the latter.

However, I appreciate you PALS for creating entertainment during a boring week. You make for good gossip and pure amazement that can only be enjoyed after experiencing a real life example of idiocy and desperation that has been concocted by you. So here's to you, you passive-aggressive, hot-headed crazies of America. Fuck you. There I said it. And it didn't even take ten minutes.

Just Stick Out Your Chin and Grin and Say...

Every six months or so a huge raincloud rolls in and sets up camp right over my head. I don't know what kind of natural disaster or part of chaos theory can be attributed to this happening but it does. And every time it does, I whine, why me...again. The old saying goes, 'when it rains it pours' which seemed like a very old, useless proverb that meant nothing to me but now means, you will not feel a few droplets of shit on your head you will be submerged in it.

Sorry for the visual.

Bad days usually begin in the most innocent of ways. You get a flat tire. You spill coffee on your shirt. Someone cuts you off in traffic. Soon though this turns into your car not starting, your computer dying and tripping in the parking lot so that the coffee that splashes onto your outfit gets dotted with the gravel that you are currently laying in. This is a bad day. How do you get over something like this? It's not like a hangover that you can sleep off and miraculously see the world with clear vision again the next day. No, there are usually bigger things at the root of the problem(s) that have caused such disaster to wreck havoc on your daily life. Most of the time the problems stem from money, work, or relationships or if you are very lucky a combination of the three. It's times like this that I wish to become a hermit. I don't want to hear how things will turn around, how hard times build character or how things could be worse. Because things have not yet turned around, fuck character and thank you very much for saying how things can be worse because now I'm paranoid that those "worse" things are going to happen.

I don't like assuming the Eeyore persona and have yet to figure out why all bad things must happen at the exact same time, why I can't tackle one problem at a time and then it would seem more bearable and less like something that might push me to the point of an anxiety attack. Or better yet, could I have the answers to my problems revealed to me in a dream or perhaps on a winning lottery ticket? I dare to dream as this sort of thing just does not happen to people to like me.

People like me wake up and look in the mirror willing today to be the day that doesn't completely suck. Pep talking myself as I realize that it's about the thirteenth day in a row that I've worn my hair in a ponytail. I see that there is a small hole in my shirt and my pants are wrinkled but I don't have time nor do I want to change my outfit. But then I make it to work with a full cup of coffee. My car maintains four aired-up tires. I don't trip. I am hesitant to let any sunshine peek through my raincloud so I don't look into these small occurrences as a promise of the inevitable turnaround. But slowly there does seem to be some answers to my problems and the big, obvious realization that life isn't perfect, something I already knew and have had to learn over and over again, is staring me in the face. The perspective shifts slightly and I'm out from under that raincloud, I figure you can only control so much and everything else will have to work itself out.

Life sucks. Shit happens. Get over it.

Let the Games Begin

Giving your number to a guy isn't as exciting as it once was for various reasons. One of those reasons being that technology has advanced and now a guy can just give you his cell phone, have you put your number in it, and then immediately call you to verify that you haven't given a fake number. Also, sometimes giving a number to a guy is like giving a bone to a whining dog. You want the whining to stop or for them to wag their tail elsewhere, so you give the number as a sort of surrender. Probably the most disturbing reason for the dwindling excitement is because they use your number sporadically. By sporadically I mean they call you once right away and then you don't hear from them until weeks later. The span between calls is so long that you forget why you were interested in them in the first place and in some extreme cases, you forget their name.

I have consulted a few sources and have been advised that this rudeness is due to a guy 'laying the groundwork' but being unable, for whatever reason, to close the deal. So this should be a problem of theirs, not ours, right? Should be, but isn't. Because it's our nature to respond when really we should ignore our phones and ignore the curiousity that inevitably may not kill the cat but, will kill our spirit. The thing is that most of the time we realize that the problem is them, 'them' being guys that can't figure out what they want and decide to merry-go-round us with their lameness, but we allow it. We don't want to take ourselves out of the game too soon.

One of my favorite movies has one of the main characters talking about dating as forced intimacy and how even if you're not initially interested in someone, you could become interested, especially if that person becomes disinterested. With this kind of confusion, how are we supposed to know that when a guy says, "Do you want to go to a baseball game Thursday?" this may not mean that you will be going to a game, much less going anywhere at all. And in typical fashion when this temporary boy amnesia is followed up three days later with his lame, "How's life?" text, this just makes you roll your eyes and think for the love, don't text me now, you pathetic loser. But most of the time it's not the guy that has to make the excuse of why he flaked because we are running scenarios through our minds with all (improbable) possibilites of why he didn't follow up. He broke his arm. He lost his phone. He thought you knew he meant next Thursday. All excuses which can be filed under: bullshit.

This push and pull from guys is exhausting and unnecessary. They, as I've said before, complicate very simple situations. It's easy. If you like a girl, call her, ask her out and go out. That's it. Three simple steps and yet many seem to get tripped up on step one. Why lay the groundwork for something you have no intention of building upon? If you are a fan of the flirtatious banter that leads up to the inital date, hook-up, whatever you want this relationship to be, you need to have the goods to back it up. Otherwise, leave it alone.

In the meantime, if the guy is wanting to make it a game, I think it's time they work a little harder. Because anyone can get a number, anyone can call once. So I've decided, say your name is Travis and you call me once, I will save your number in my phone as 'Travis (OUT)'. This will change to 'Travis (IN)' once something resembling effort is involved. Until then I'm not answering the phone. I'm not responding to the rhetorical 'what's up' text. You don't need to know what's up. You need to know how to do something else then lay the groundwork and actually just do work.

Better roll up the sleeves. The game is just starting.

Survey Says

Everyone has their own version of the 'perfect guy'. Most lists have the standard: good looks, sense of humor, intelligence. And, then some lists also include things such as strong family values, fun personality, and good shoes. Ok, maybe that last one is just on mine. Most of the time though if we find a guy that has just one of these characteristics we jump the gun and think maybe, could it be, that we have found the perfect guy! And the list goes right out the window. We zero in, not thinking through the other choices we might have, only because we so desperately want this guy right now to be the right one. Why do we do this? It's because we have the Family Feud mentality.

You know how on Family Feud the host will pose a question like, "Name an animal that begins with the letter 'C' and some fool will respond with, "Caribou!" and that person's family will hesitate for a second before erupting with enthusiastic applause and cheers of "good answer!" when you, the home viewer, are thinking just like everyone else, um, that's not a good answer. Cow is a good answer. Cat. Caribou? What the hell?

The host yells out, "Show me caribou!" and the response is a loud buzzer and a big red 'X' that signifies that the given answer is not only not on the list but that the person who gave the answer is an idiot. But the thing is, it was that person's turn, their choice, their mistake to make, that's how the game is played. The family will groan sympathetically, supportive to the person guessing and will keep cheering knowing that their next answer will be better. I mean anything has to be better than caribou.

This is the Family Feud mentality. This way of thinking, this confidence in decision-making, hopeful, full-steam ahead, screw what you think because I got it right this time feeling has caused females across the nation to cross paths with the following motley crew of males:

10. Ego-booster guy: You're not really interested in him. You didn't even notice him until he started telling you how beautiful you are, how he'd like to take you out and when he does shows up with flowers and holds the door open. He's bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, nice, polite, calls when he says he will but in the back of your mind you think, he's not that cute. He could even borderline ugly. And there are such lulls in the conversation that at certain points you swear you hear crickets or snippets of other people's conversations which are far better than the one you are participating in. But the boy sure knows how to give a compliment. Somehow these guys usually show up when you're having a fat day or during a wedding reception.

9. I-can't-see-straight-because-I'm-drunk guy: The guy you've hooked up with only due to high levels of intoxication. If you are fortunate you will not have to see this guy again because hopefully you were smart and did not spend the night. You probably either puked or cried in front of him and if you did stay the night, you wake up with mascara smeared under your eyes, a bad case of cotton mouth, and recoil at the first spot of daylight. You look over. He is passed out, drooling, one hand down his pants. You hope to never see him again. He's not ugly. At least he wasn't the night before.

8. White Picket Fence guy: He's smart, kind, and is as loyal as a Golden Retriever. He has the kind of looks that you find in a Ralph Lauren sailing ad. You know that he wants 2.5 children, a manicured lawn and a country club membership. He is the modern day equivalent to Prince Charming. But after awhile he looks a little too vanilla. His demeanor a tad too pure. Also, you think he might have his mom on speed dial. Plus, don't you think it's the pure ones that usually end up wanting to wear your underwear?

7. Take One For the Team guy: If you're lucky this guy is at least cute and can hold your attention as you're supposed to distract him while your friend flirts with his friend. Hopefully by the end of the night she will have locked it up so that you won't have to go into overtime because he's actually kind of getting on your nerves. Guys think they are the only ones who have wingmen. I beg to differ.

6. Older guy: This guy has his act together. He wines and dines you and knows what he wants. He's romantic without being corny, sweet without being sappy. Witty without being pretentious. However, he begins to refer to you and he as 'we' as in, "We are going to look at houses next weekend. We are planning to fly to Wisconsin to see my parents for the holiday." You've been dating for three weeks. You're not sure you even know his last name. In this scenario, don't answer his calls and pretend that you have moved. Or better yet don't pretend, just move.

5. In Theory guy: This is a guy that you have been friends with for awhile and get along with so well that you think that in theory you should be a perfect match. You have the same taste in music and can have four hour conversations about absolutely nothing. You finish each other's sentences. You go together like peas and carrots. You find this to be less true when you learn that he is a follower of the jackrabbit sex method. This is bad.

4. The "Yes" guy: Is he good-looking, charming, sweet? Yes, yes and yes. Do most of your conversations end with him apologizing and/or explaining himself? Yes. Does he already have a girlfriend that you didn't know about? Yes. Has she called you herself to tell you this? Quite possibly, yes.

3. I Told You So guy: This could be the same as Yes guy except that you already sensed that he probably had a girlfriend. You already knew that going into this you weren't looking for a serious relationship, you were looking for a project. You wanted to be the person that proved everyone wrong and could show what a sweet, misunderstood, decent guy he is. He's not. It's not your friends saying I told you so. It's you saying it to yourself.

2. Recovery guy: Don't confuse him with a rebound guy. Recovery guy is there to help you recover from the last guy you were with. He's not there to rebound you back into relationship mode. He is there mostly for decoration so that just by looking at him it makes you feel better.

1. Perfect guy: This guy didn't make the survey...

Yet.

Yes, I said it. I do think the perfect guy is out there because someone's caribou could be your cow and vice-versa. We may not get it right the first time. Or the tenth. It may not be the most popular choice but even if it's the wrong one we can continue clapping with all the enthusiasm we had at the beginning because win or lose each turn we have we still get to believe that this time, we got it right. That this was the time we finally, truly have a good answer. There are no takebacks. That's how the game is played. Go big or go home. There's no other way.

You're Nobody Until I Say Otherwise

Did you know that at this very moment you could have someone out there who thinks you are their girlfriend, but you're not? It could be someone you went on a couple of dates with or someone you hung out with on a Friday night. You could be part of a couple and not know. Don't believe me? Well, once upon a time Girl met Guy and there was a mutual attraction. Girl and Guy hung out a total of two times before Guy took it upon himself to call Girl and dump her. Was she heartbroken? Devastated? No. She was confused. How did this happen? How did she get dumped by someone that wasn't her boyfriend? You always hear about guys jumping the gun by ending things before they get too involved or hurt, but isn't this a little bit ridiculous?

Story doesn't stop here. Weeks later Guy is at the same bar as Girl and corners her to discuss their 'relationship'. And, this is where my intervention becomes necessary. Drunken and perturbed I hobble up to them and tell Guy that I hurt my foot and currently my shoe is filling up with blood. I need Girl to come with me immediately. I am wearing flip flops. I hope Guy receives this blatant message. No harm no foul. Probably one of the easiest breakups in history.

We should look at this as an urban myth, an isolated incident from a guy who is confused. But this really does happen. Gone are the days when girls are asked to 'go steady' and on to the future where assumption equals exclusive relationship. Say you're friends with a guy and start hanging out, hooking up, and can do things like play miniature golf and cook dinner together when to you it seems casual and to him it seems domestic and couple-y. I see it now as a movie split screen where girl is participating in these events with thoughts of where her next margarita will come from and guy has a cartoon balloon over his head filled with hearts. Does this not seem backwards? Isn't it the girl who's always portrayed as assuming commitment too early? Next thing you know the 'L' word is dropped out of nowhere, on the phone and you think, do I have a bad connection? Was that a 'love ya' in the casual, friendly context? Sadly no, it was a distinct 'I love you.' Oh no. My connection is bad...static...can't hear you....What else can you do in a situation like that? It temporarily stuns you because you didn't even think you were a couple, apparantly he did. Awk-ward. So you'll learn for next time, right?

Wrong.

Fast forward to adult man and when I say adult, I'm talking about hefty career aspirations, ability to purchase real estate, and ultimately discussion of coupledom far too fast and furious. It is this man you should be wary of if you begin dating him near the holidays. He wants you to meet his family, share a Christmas goose, look at houses with him. Wait, what? You have been dating a total of two weeks and you wanted a guy who could commit...eventually. You nod politely and tell him that you would love to meet his family but you are allergic to goose and your own family is expecting you for the holiday. He, being the mature 30-something he is, smiles and assures you that he understands but his sister is having a party next weekend and maybe you can at least meet her then. Because she wants to meet you. His girlfriend. If this was a movie this is where the music would come to a screeching halt because you barely know this guy. Although you have had some fun dates, long conversations, whatever happened to slow and steady wins the race? So the last phone call goes unreturned. And the one after that and the one after that. Immature? Of course. But maybe he will just chalk it up to the difference in age.

I think for a relationship to be considered coupledom that both parties must not only be privy to this next step but agree upon it. There doesn't have to be a signed document, but a clarification, a discussion would be nice. Otherwise, then the guy thinks you are an insensitive, commitment-phobic tramp and you are left wondering how did you not know that you had been cast for the role of girlfriend. I guess there is fine line between the time someone turns from a nobody into a somebody. Sometimes you are dragged across it. Sometimes you'd rather pretend it's not there. Wherever your line is it's your decision for when you want to cross it and if you're lucky, when you're ready, you'll have someone waiting for you on the other side.

Very Well Then, No Cookies for You

It's always thrilling to do something you know you're not supposed to do. Whether it's when you're a kid and sneak a cookie before dinner or when you're a teenager and sneak out of your parent's house to go meet your friends, the act of rebellion, no matter how small makes you feel exhilarated. Even when you get caught, it is usually worth it. It's worth the cookie. It's worth being grounded. But, have you noticed that slowly these rebellious acts seem to fade away until we become the dreaded adult? It just kind of sneaks up on you until one day you realize that that job you have, it's real. Those bills that come in the mail, they're real too and even if you want to rebel against them, you can't. It's this blindsided push into adulthood that has confirmed my belief that I'm not the working kind. I may not even be the adult kind.

I believe working a 9 to 5 job has paralyzed whatever creative thoughts I had left in my brain, it makes me look forward to noon as I know that lunch will be my only excitement of the day. I find myself at work laughing at people who yell at me for their inadequacies which only makes them madder and I think, how long am I going to be able get away with doing absolutely nothing and having no one notice? I informed my mom halfway through college that I simply wasn't the working kind and she said that no one was, no one liked to work. I beg to differ. Did you know there are people who like mornings? As in, they are morning people. As in they wake up before their alarms and face each day thinking, how much can I accomplish today? This only happens to me three times a year: the day after my birthday, January 2nd, and a random day in autumn when everything just feels inspiring. These three days trick me into thinking that I can be a person of accomplishment.

I think my lack of motivation is due to my ambivalent view on how I think a person should live their life. I know that after a certain age you're supposed to look past the ideal of living in the moment and actually take responsibility, start a 401K, and get health insurance but I started thinking, what left is there to work towards besides just enjoying life? I went to college just like I was supposed to, I got a job and now I look back and think that milestone of graduation was so anticlimactic that now I just feel gypped. The next milestone is supposed to be a promotion in your career, but what if you are never going to be the type to have a career and getting a promotion means switching jobs? I hear you saying, the next milestone is getting married and having a family. What if I never get married and never have a family? Sometimes these milestones happen out of order or don't happen at all. Sometimes the excitement of not knowing is in truth more exciting than knowing. It has the element of surprise, the hope that the future will show you that life isn't a sequential timeline that requires certain stops along the way and detours won't prevent you from still cruising along just fine.

I admire those who have come into the responsibilities of adulthood a little easier than I have, but even if you are one of those people, you have to admit that all those exciting things that you did that maybe you weren't supposed to, the things that you worried might take you off the path for a minute, they are so much better than anything you could ever have planned. Planning for the future is worth it and I'm sure I'll do it one of these days but until then, all those other times; they're so worth the cookie.

If You're Gonna Drink the Kool-Aid Sip Slowly

I never imagined my wedding as a little girl. My favorite Disney movie is 'Beauty and the Beast' where ultimately it is Belle who saves the Beast. I don't stand up for the bouquet toss at weddings but I do hope for the fairytale. And I know this is the protest of every independent woman out there but there is a small part in the back of our minds that is hoping that today will be the day we will meet the man of our dreams. It might not be obvious at the time but the thought is always there. I have come to realize though that this hope is not only ridiculous but statistically is just not going to happen.

In an article I read recently there was a quote from a clinical psychologist that said to get a guy to pop the question 49 percent of it depends on the right woman and 51 percent depends on his readiness to commit. On the same day, my friend told me that her college sweetheart who she dated on and off for ten years is getting married. His reason: because his bride is someone who will not cheat on him. I also know a girl who is getting married after being with her future husband for eight years and seven of those eight years he cheated on her. And she knows it. This isn't quite the fairytale I had in mind.

On the flip side staying single involves having crushes who never pan out because cynicism sets in and takes over the situation, one night stands who turn into year long flings who turn out to have live-in girlfriends, and of course the ever annoying relatives who are praying that this holiday season you are going to bring someone home. So I could have a man who is so ambivalent about me that his primary reason to marry me is because I wouldn't cheat on him or potential drama with hook-up guy's girlfriend. These are my options? Someone gouge out my eyeballs now. I told this to one of my friends who happens to happily be in a relationship with a guy who she is planning on marrying someday. I told her I didn't want to rain on her parade but even if I found the right guy tomorrow it would only 49% matter. The other 51% would depend on if he was 'ready for me'. That means I could meet a fantastic guy and we could be together for years and he may always be looking for greener grass and I would be none the wiser because I thought that meeting the right person was equivalent to being ready for a relationship. Silly me.

What ever happened to romantic, want to spend the rest of my life with you kind of love that led to marriage instead of well, we've been dating for a decade now you wanna just get married or what? What if I meet someone who I think is the One and later realize that I was only honorable mention to him and that his One person just came at the wrong time. So the question is, do I follow the herd, drink the Kool-Aid and decide to just take the best of what comes along and be on my deluded version of a fairytale way or do I still believe that there is someone who will not only hold the boom box over his head but will also arrive at just the right time? In my fairtytale I'm sure my prince will chug my Kool-Aid, trip over the boom box, and be late.

But at least there will be a happy ending.

Now This May Sting a Little

In high school I was the football team manager. I am from a small town from which produced an equally small football team so my managerial duties didn't extend past providing water and setting up dummies for football practice. On game days, I stood on the sidelines chatting with the third-stringers but ready to doctor someone up should their arm or leg get cut. My method was simple: spray with antiseptic, wrap in bandage, smile and done. It may hurt a little but it happens so quickly the pain is barely noticeable. Sure the cut may heal on its own but wouldn't you rather just have it bandaged and be done with it?

I have a friend, I'll call her Jill, who briefly dated a guy last summer and when she decided that she no longer wanted to follow the progression into a serious relationship she ended the dating. End of story? Of course not. Fast forward almost one year later and the guy texts her on a random Wednesday asking her if she wants to grab a drink that Friday. As a side note, texting has become the favorite go-to communication of people who like to remain ambiguous and noncommittal. Out of curiousity Jill agrees to meet him. When Friday arrives, Jill texts to confirm the meeting time for the hanging out to which guy responds that he suddenly has a work function and he can't make it for a drink. Ok, Jill thinks, but good thing she called to confirm as it seemed that he had no intention of alerting her of this last minute 'function'. Guy suggests rescheduling. One week later Jill decides to stop by guy's place of work (a public store, not a private office, the place where they had first met) to say 'hey' and guy flips out and later texts her, ordering her to never come by his place of work again and what did she want. Though baffled, she apologizes. The following day he sends a text that says this a really busy time at work right now and he doesn't have time to date. And, let me stop the story right here. Guy, weren't you the one who after a year contacted Jill out of the blue to get together only to flake out on the plan two days later? And, when did a friendly 'stopped by to say hey' turn into an incident worthy of a stalking insinuation? When she wanted to stop talking to you, she stopped calling. If you didn't wish to talk to Jill than why did you call her?

Sadly, Jill's story isn't an isolated situation. Five out of five women have become involved with or know someone who has become involved with a guy who makes simple situations complicated, i.e. guys who like to fuck with your head. If you are a female reading this, you may be thinking, I know this guy. If you are a male, you may be thinking, what's the problem? There is usually one of two reasons as to why a guy creates emotional havoc. Either a) he has been heartbroken and when I say heartbroken I mean won't get out of bed, drinks himself to the point of blackout for a month straight, sleeps with as many girls as possible to make his ego feel inflated or b) he likes to be in control of a situation at all times. If you happen to come across a guy that encompasses both a) and b) you are DOA. How do you spot such a guy? How do you not become entrapped in his meaningless mind games? I hate to tell you this but these complicated, issue ridden guys seem to have something about them, the bad boy factor, the wounded puppy you want to nurse back to health because then he will adore you forever and ever. You think, I am the one who is going to break him. I am worth changing for. You probably are worthy but it's not you, it's him. It's the hardest thing to understand and an even harder thing to accept.

Stereotypically speaking, guys think girls are the dramatic ones, the ones who always want to discuss feelings, establish boundaries. But more and more I see guys creating the drama, suggesting dating other people but seriously are pissed off when you actually do just that. They think three dates means you are boyfriend and girlfriend and if you didn't think you were boyfriend/girlfriend their egos are bruised and they become hateful or if you did think you were boyfriend/girlfriend they get freaked out and stop calling. They like you. They ignore you. It's exhausting, it's ridiculous, it happens to everyone. Is it that hard to just say what you mean and mean what you say?

Now I know what you're thinking, isn't the girl partially to blame for putting up with this utter bullshit? Maybe, but sometimes this addiction to being needed, then discarded and needed again is due partly to the thought of real relationships take work and isn't this part of the work? Where do we draw the line? It's a decision every person has to make for themselves. Antiseptic and bandage or open wound? If relationships are about hard work and putting up with questionable behavior just for the sake of giving it a try, if it's going to sting, then maybe along with that dating questionnaire I should just include the following disclaimer:

Do not complicate simple situations. If you don't want to call, don't call. If you don't want a commitment, don't act like a boyfriend with jealous rages and expectations of being at your beck and call. Neither is acceptable. Complicating simple situations causes sprained thumbs from explanatory text messages that are unnecessary. It causes ridiculous analyzations, brain sprains, heart pains and everything in between. If a problem can be handled in ten minutes, please use the ten minutes and move on. If it's going to be any longer, please mix me a drink. Preferably something with vodka. Thank you for your time.

Like Nothing You've Ever Seen

Since my office desk faces the window, I stare out the window roughly seven hours a day. Five days a week. One hundred and forty hours a month. Most of the time I'm staring at parked cars, the mailman making his rounds, kids that are out of school, sometimes people coming out of the bar across the street, but here's my top ten list of people I hold a special affinity towards for the sheer entertainment value they bring to my mundane working life:

10. Man Driving the Hoopty-

He's not wearing a shirt and has a both a mullet and a mohawk. He has a mullhawk. He parks his white boat of a car outside the door. I see several necklaces hanging from his rearview mirror, as well as a bandana and what quite possibly is a handicapped parking pass, although he clearly does not seem to be impaired in any way (except for the hair). All four windows are down and he strolls into the office reeking of smoke of different varieties. I think I detect the scent of pork rinds as well. He pays cash which as I count out the bills leaves a greasy film on my palm which I try to ignore and subtly wipe on the desk. He leaves and hits his automatic locks button to his car. Even though his windows are down, he has locked his car. Even though I believe this car to be from the 80's. How can he have keyless entry?

9. Lady with Camel Toe-

Out of the bar comes a lady with jean shorts so short and tight that it actually pains me to see her walk to her car. She has a multi-colored halter top that is reminiscent of a Rubix cube and she has on platform shoes. Her top is so low that if any sudden movement, I may be flashed. I expect her to fall at any moment. I wonder if she has a mirror at her home and if not a mirror a rash from the sweat that is sure to become trapped in her shorts. Either the mirror or the rash should keep her from wearing shorts that tight. Common decency and comfort should prevent her. Yet they don't.

8. Sherbet Twins-

I don't think these two people are actually twins, though they very well could be. They are crossdressers. Poorly dressed crossdressers. I am happy to report that I haven't seen them walking together as this would be overkill for my poor eyes. Twin one walks by my window in hot pink glory. Add some feathers and he'd be a flamingo. Twin two is a lighter version and has chosen to deck himself from head to toe in yellow. Yellow shirt, yellow shoes, yellow socks, not one thing is another color. I am betting he is wearing yellow underwear. They are walking popsicles.

7. Man on Bike-

He runs into the pole outside my window while on his bike. The pole is in plain sight and does not block the sidewalk. You have to actually purposefully run into it to well, run into it. He, too, is shirtless the trend down here. Actually, he arrives shirtless, but once he stops puts his shirt back on and then as he departs takes the shirt off once more. I think he doesn't run into the pole as much as uses it as a stopper. He may not have brakes on his bicycle I conclude. He may want to see what flyers are posted on the pole. Either way he uses not his feet nor his brakes to stop, he just runs into the pole. My suggestion to him: wear a helmet.

6. Lady with a Veil-

She is creepy. Don't look at her directly. It would be like staring straight at the sun and you will be blinded or cursed or both. She wears an outfit that makes her look like a nun from hell. She has come into the office declaring that she is a nun and carries a covered basket. It looks like the basket that Dorothy carries in the Wizard of Oz. But I believe there is a gun in this basket and therefore I don't smirk when I see her. Her voice is low and even as if she is trying to hypnotize you. She ends every sentence with, "Jesus, Father Almighty, Our Savior." She also greets you in this way. This is not a greeting. It's a proper noun, with adjectives. I am confused and frightened by her. Steer clear.

5. Man in the Panda Mask-

Fortunately, this man is someone that I know which makes it less odd, although if you've ever just been sitting staring out the window and a panda suddenly appears in your window, it makes you feel like you are hallucinating. Also, if you know a man that would wear a panda mask and walk into an office, something is wrong with both him and you. He marches into my office demanding bamboo leaves with this mask on and I point him to the door. Moments later he appears in the front window, not moving, just standing and staring. Had I not known the man behind the mask, I would've shut the blinds and locked the door. I still probably should have done that.

4. Girl Who Hits the Car Behind Her-

She doesn't look in the rearview. Seems unaffected that she has hit the car behind her in order to make room for her to park and then hits the car again as she leaves. She does it slowly to make it look like an accident, but after the first contact continues to roll back until enough space is made. I think she was deprived of the bumper cars as a kid and is now taking it out on any car that happens to be parked behind her. I bet she does not have insurance.

3. Zoot Suit Man-

He has a handle bar mustache and is dressed for perhaps Mardi Gras? Or a pimp that is seeing hard times? He has a three-piece striped suit, matching hat, shiny shoes. He strolls up and down the sidewalk, sometimes carrying a briefcase, other times carrying a cane. I don't know if maybe this is his occupation, similar to the Naked Cowboy that camps out at Times Square in New York City. I don't think this man makes any money dressing like that and there are clearly no tourists, I just think he likes it. I'm interested to see if his wardrobe changes to accomodate this scorching heat, but nothing so far.

2. Bulb-nosed Man-

His nose looks like the horn you may have had on your bike as a kid. It is impossible to ignore. It's impossible not to stare and wonder if he has tried to have it removed. Not the nose, but whatever is extending from it. You would think the obvious answer would be yes, but then you think if so, then wouldn't he have had it removed? Then you think, maybe it is non-removable and you feel badly for staring. But you still stare, out of the corner of your eye. You can't help it.

1. Stumbling Drunk Man-

It's 10 a.m. I'm barely awake and yet this man has just left the bar from a night of drinking or is an early bird and began drinking when the sun came up. Either way, he is tanked. He stumbles out of the bar across the street and picks up the pay phone. He is wearing one shoe. The police arrive and he tries to walk toward them but gets yanked back by the pay phone cord. This causes him to sway and fall. The ambulance arrives. He is laying on the ground, motionless. I see the gurney wheeling him to the back of the ambulance, he's still wearing just one shoe, but then I see one triumphant hand go up in a thumbs up sign and all is right with the world. He is down but not out.

These people have made my perception of the abnormal borderline on normal and back again. Who decides normal anyway? I'm sure a person seeing a girl staring out the window for seven hours straight might think that to be abnormal.

Of course they would be right.

It's My Party and I'll Lie If I Want To

I turned 21 again. Let's call it turning 21 part four. Don't get me wrong, the first time around was fantastic, it included all the right elements: drinking, dancing, puking, but fate intervenes and decides to turn an ordinary Friday night into an extraordinary birthday extravaganza. It happens so fast, a stranger asks your table whose birthday it is and someone points to you. The next thing you know it's being announced by the deejay and some stranger is sending over a shot. And another. And another. For a moment you think, maybe you should come clean. It's not your birthday. You've already celebrated being 21 four years ago. But then, who am I to mess with fate?

It is a mathematical certainty that fun people like to hang out with other fun people. Add some vodka and several shots of some sweet concoctions and you have a ready made par-tay. Special occasions such as fake birthdays turn strangers into friends, spazzes into dancers and an Avril Lavigne song worthy of bopping around spewing lyrics that rhyme 'damn precious' with 'motherfucking princess'. I know what you're thinking-why would you tell a stranger something that wasn't true? How about because to say you're from Hollywood, that you're named after a stripper and are a bar virgin is far more entertaining than saying you live twenty blocks down the road and you work a job that actually seems to be the antithesis to intelluctual enlightenment. Haven't you ever pretended you were someone else? I have my whole life. As a kid, I used to pretend I was famous and conduct interviews with myself in the mirror. I pretended I was a gymnast and would jump off the couch trying to perfect my landing. In 4th grade, my friend and I pretended we were running away from home and packed our bookbags with sandwiches, beef jerky and CapriSuns. We only ran away to the golf course to run through the sprinklers and went home when our snacks were gone, but it was fun while it lasted.

Enter the alter ego which encourages fun while it lasts. The alter ego is a Friday night's booty call. You call on your alter ego to liven up your night, to do something extremely foolish and forbidden just because you can. Every day all day you're you. It's fine. But not fun. It's safe but not exciting. That's where your alter ego comes in, so that if you do something, say something, think something so off from who you are, you have an explanation. This is not lying to yourself. This is helping yourself from reaching the point of mindless insanity. The insanity that ensues only after a life of mundane routine has grayed your spirit. It's taking life's lemons and adding vodka for a very delicious cocktail.

But what happens if someone finds you out? What if someone threatens to rain on your parade and tell people that it is in fact not your birthday? Then, you offer that person a drink, give them a wink and smile. One day they'll understand. They'll get what it's about. There are four and a half days a week when there is inevitably going to be downers that forget what it's like to go with the flow, have a good time, enjoy life. There are four and a half days for life to take contol of you instead of the other way around, when things like bills and debt and general stress threaten to age you in such a way that you become morphed into said downer who causes others to decide to have fake birthdays. Then comes Friday afternoon, four and a half days have been survived and that in itself is reason enough to celebrate. Even if you think it's silly to have pretend special occasions, there will come a time when you will feel like being someone else, when you will feel like creating a party for no reason. It will come around the time you realize the only rules that need to be followed are your own. I don't know if this will happen to you anytime soon. But I sure hope it does.

Just Not My Style

You know how at least once a year you're supposed to go through your closet and get rid of any clothing you haven't worn in awhile. I have a hard time doing this. I see that shrunken, hot pink, v-neck shirt that has been hanging in my closet for over a year and I think I can wear that somewhere. I don't know where since I don't wear shirts that don't fit over my belly and can't remember the last time I wore anything hot pink but I don't want to throw it away. Eventually though, I do throw it away along with the teal sweater with the fabric softener stains. I realize that I don't miss what I so desperately wanted to hang on to. Now is it fair to do the same with friendships? If you haven't talked to the person in over a year, should you rethink how that friendship fits into your life? Although one may argue that comparing an inanimate object with a human is degrading and unfair, it's still valid. Just like that hot pink shirt that once matched your life and no longer does, the same can be said for friends.

I value my friendships. I don't make a list of friends to purge out of my life every year as I do with my wardrobe, but I have figured out that you don't have to be BFF with someone just because you're friends with their friend's, ex-boyfriend's, brother's roommate. I don't feel like we have to act like friends if I haven't talked to you in four years. I say this because I'm not the person who will say, "Great to see you!", when really I'm thinking, "Fuck, it's you." I'm just not.

About a year ago a friend of mine and I had an argument about why I wasn't friends with someone who once was a mutual friend of ours. I'm just not, I said. He wanted to know if we had a falling out and we hadn't. We just moved in different ways, that's it, no big explanation, no heated dramatic blow up. I just realized the kind of person she was was not the kind of person I wanted to be around. I wanted to believe the friend that I once knew was the same person he still saw, but it wasn't. In college, all your friends seem like the most fun, the most understanding people you've ever met and usually they are. The main reason being you are all going through the same thing, on the same path trying to survive college until graduation. The partying makes you friends, the studying late at night for finals, the quest for graduation makes you all immediately have something in common, but there has to be something more. There has to be respect, trust, something that either you see in someone or don't. I don't ask people to meet for lunch if I know that meeting will never happen. I do the obligatory 'How are you?' when someone I haven't seen in awhile asks how I am, but other than that I understand that if I have absolutely no idea what's going on in a person's life who I once called a friend, it's usually for a reason. We don't have to make promises we won't keep. It's not Girl Scout camp.

The thing is this, for a long time I used to think it was me being too quick to cut someone out, but I am loyal, like a dog, until I sniff you out and find out that you are a liar or two-faced or anything else that I don't find appealing in a friend. I have been that friend that has had someone lie to my face, talk about me behind my back and deny it and it's just not worth it. It's not worth it when I have fantastic friends, friends who I don't have to question or worry about. It's like your favorite sweater that you pull out every winter and it goes with everything you own, you'd wear it every day if you could. You know that if you can't wear it because the weather is too warm, it'll still be there for as long as you need it. And, that's something you don't give away or replace. That's something you hold on to forever. Because things like that never go out of style.