I really identify with you, so much....

This is not the first, nor will it be the last time I utter the phrase: "I don't get dudes."

Just when I think I've got some things figured out about what makes them tick, how they perceive things, etc., I am once again thrown into a pile of nonsense and left utterly perplexed. For example, why on earth would a guy, who a good friend of mine is pseudo-dating, invite me out while she's out of town, then proceed to also invite another gal he is apparently dating and allow me to witness them getting more than a little cozy on the dance floor at the bar? Do guys understand girls as little as we understand them? Do they think we don't talk, nay, text each other immediately when things like this occur? The question of the day then becomes: 'Drunk', 'Stupid' or 'Wants to get caught'? It could be a game show.

Awhile back I had an experience where I busted a guy I had hooked up with a few times. I was under no illusion that I was the only person he was sleeping with, yet he did try to make with the sweet talk. When a mutual friend and I discovered one night that he had also hooked up with her during the same time frame and eluded to her that she was the first in a long time, she was shocked and appalled. I was neither, and I decided to call him on it to see what he would say. The next time he came over, I said-rather offhandedly- "just so you know, I know you slept with so-and-so. I don't necessarily care, but she might very well beat you bloody the next time she sees you." I mean, really. So guys, allow me to give you a few tips:

1.) If you are cheating on your girlfriend, she WILL find out. In fact, she probably already knows, she's just waiting to see how many more lies you will tell her until she catches you red-handed. It doesn't matter how "careful" or "stealthy" you think you're being. That girl you saw across the restaurant while dining with your mistress- the one you couldn't quite place- was probably your girlfriend's secretary from her last job and regardless of whether or not they've spoken in 5 years, she WILL end up friend-requesting your girlfriend on Facebook to ask when the two of you broke up, at which point your gf will respond with "we're still together, why do you ask?".... That's the way it goes down.

2.) We always know when you're lying. Sure, some girls go against their gut and rationalize things for awhile because they're in denial, but deep down we always know. Don't kid yourselves.

3.) Don't tell us what you think we want to hear. As always, I don't pretend to know what all girls want, but as for the select ones I know and love, we always choose honesty over bullshit. If you aren't that into us, then for hell's sake, don't waste our time! If you like us, but want to keep seeing other people too, for crying out loud, make sure we are aware of this so we can make an informed decision whether or not we want to keep seeing you! Don't be a pussy, just tell us what's up.

Keep in mind, I say all of this after having just left a meat-market of a bar where I spent an hour convincing a bunch of drunk firefighters that I am an ice-road trucker 9 months out of the year. Of course, if any of them had shown any promise, I certainly would've come clean...

The What Ifs will kill ya...

When summer began, I had 3 goals: Find a new apartment; Find a new car; Have an amazing summer fling. While the first 2 are in the process of coming to fruition, the 3rd continues to elude me. I am here to tell you, it is slim pickins. When you work as much as I do and see the same people, day in and day out, the chances of meeting some exotic stranger to take up with for a spell is easier said than done. Clearly I didn't work out the logistics of this when I set my goals. Add to that the sheer exhaustion I feel on my days off and the fact is, I haven't been actively searching.

My girls and I were sitting at the bar of our favorite watering hole a few weeks back, when we noticed a group of good-looking fellas sitting outside. I had my eye on one imparticular and as he passed by us on his way to the bathroom, smiles were exchanged as well as a coy, downward glance on my part. When he came back by a few minutes later, he stopped to chat and invited us to join him and his buddies out front. He was yummy and he was a cop (I have an inexplicable preoccupation with authority figures). After he walked away, my friend turned to me expectantly and said one word:

"Fling?"

I paused for a moment and pondered. Sure he was hot and he certainly seemed interested, but it would take a lot of energy to go out there and be charming and witty and try to figure out how to get him back to my place without seeming slutty... Quite honestly, all I really wanted to do was go home, eat my leftovers and watch Season 2 of Buffy, which is exactly what I did.

There are those who say:

"What if he was your soulmate and you chose cold pasta and vampire slaying over a chance at happiness?!"

'What ifs' and the people who suggest them, piss me off. I don't like alarmist tactics. If I stopped and wondered "What if?" every time I made a choice about something, I wouldn't have a moment's peace. I instead choose to follow my gut, and if Hot Cop had truly been the one for me, I'm certain my gut would have told me to man up and go make it happen.

"What if the man of your dreams is on Match.com, just waiting to meet you but you are too stubborn and romantic to join and post a profile?!" Interesting point, to which I counter:

"What if the next Charles Manson is on Match.com just waiting to whisk me off to his secluded cabin where he can chop me into pieces and make a collage out of my hair and toes?"

You can't live your life stressing about whether or not you should have gone here or done that. You have to do what feels right at the time and have faith that things will fall into place.

"What if you never find anyone to marry and have babies with?!?"

Well God forbid...That would be a tragedy, wouldn't it? Not everyone needs babies to be complete. I'm in no way knocking those who decide to procreate, in fact, the jury is still out on whether or not I want to try my hand at breeding, but regardless, I'm not going to cry myself to sleep at night worrying that it won't happen. So I end up a spinster, big deal. I'll get 17 more cats and buy a big scary house that kids are afraid to go trick-or-treating to--it'll be fine. I know I am doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing, which is living and enjoying my life to the best of my ability and I feel okay about the constant uncertainty because how fun would life really be without the suspense?

Things aren't always what they seem...

When you are single, it's easy to look around, see nothing but couples and assume everyone on earth, except you, is having copious amounts of sex. What you don't see, is what actually goes on behind closed doors, which from what I've experienced myself and learned from informal research, often isn't much.

Quite a few years ago, a friend and I found ourselves simultaneously dating a drug addict and an alcoholic, respectively. Both of their "Mr. Hyde" personas were nice guys and decent boyfriends, yet as soon as their drug/drink of choice passed their lips, they became obnoxious, unbearable "Dr. Jekylls" who we couldn't stand to be around. She and I bonded as we masochistically rode that endless emotional roller coaster side-by-side and along the way, discovered we shared a dirty little secret: neither of us was getting any--even during the "good times". As 2 attractive, 24-year old girls, we were perpetually frustrated at having to beg our boyfriends for sex and as a result, began to question our appeal. Personally, my self-esteem was taking a huge hit. Obviously, in that particular situation, the addictions were probably playing a large role in their non-existent libidos, but after asking around a bit and talking to many other girl friends, I discovered we weren't alone. A few girls said it seemed like their boyfriends were always tired, or would rather play video games. However, one friend had a husband who wouldn't touch her, yet he had an internet porn addiction to the tune of $1000/month.

It's been suggested that some men have a disconnect with regard to sex vs. love (shocking, right?). The woman they love and who has given birth to their children cannot be thought of in a sexual way (at least not in a really dirty sexual way.) It's referred to as the "Madonna/Whore complex and I don't know all the psychology behind it, but I've heard it used to explain why guys get caught cheating with skanky trailer-trash, when they have a beautiful, willing, non-trashy wife at home. Perhaps the fear is that the woman they love and revere would be disgusted by their needs and fantasies, so rather than risk rejection or humiliation, they instead seek to fulfill their desires either with someone innocuous, or not at all, leaving everyone involved frustrated, angry and on the road to couples counseling.

Obviously this happens with women as well. I've dubbed the reverse phenomenon the "Provider/Player" complex. When a woman is in a relationship with a man, whether she wants to admit it or not, there is a certain amount of expectation that she will be protected and provided for in some capacity. This is a sliding scale depending on the woman, but at the very least, we typically require an equal partnership with some stability. If a man isn't taking care of his share of the bills, housework, childcare, etc., it's going to affect how the woman sees him. I've had guy friends ask me why it feels like they are always the ones initiating intimacy with their girlfriends or wives--that it feels like the women are completely apathetic, and only give in to the men's advances to appease them. I tell these guys to look at the big picture. The cliches of women not wanting sex because they are "tired" or "have a lot on their mind" could be more accurately translated as "How could I possibly desire you physically when I'm worried about the electricity being shut off because you haven't worked in a month?" It sounds silly, but speaking from experience, when you lose respect for/trust in your partner to provide simple comfort and reliability, passion goes quickly out the window. There is also the fear of being thought of as a whore if we share what we want (it goes both ways, you see) and it speaks volumes as to why I would let a virtual stranger tie me to a bed post, while rarely giving the love of my life much more than missionary...but I digress.

It all continues to make me ponder how anyone ends up getting together and even more perplexing, how anyone manages to stay together. I think I'll go read some Freud...

A Priest and a Rabbi walk into a bar...

...If only. That would certainly make my day a little more interesting. I have chosen a dubious profession as someone who dislikes: negative people; drunk people; and needy people. As a bartender, I spend my days and nights listening to the same sad people, talk about their same sad problems, none of which they are willing to take any responsibility for.

"Boo-hoo, I'm going to lose my house if I can't come up with the money for the back payments I owe."

Maybe if you didn't spend $50+ a day at the bar, you'd be able to pay your mortgage?

"Boo-hoo, I got another DUI--I think the cops are 'entrapping' me."

Maybe if you walked the 6 blocks home at night after you drank 6 beers, the cops wouldn't be able to 'entrap' you?

My life sometimes feels like the movie 'Groundhog Day'... I know exactly who I'm going to see and what they are going to say before they even open their mouths. I have 2 rules at my bar:

1.) Jeopardy comes on at 6:30, so if you need something you had better order it before then or wait for a commercial break.

2.) Don't complain to me about your woes unless you really want to hear what I have to say.

I know a few of my regulars are simply lonely people who don't want to go home to a big empty house at the end of the day. They come to me for liquor, yes, but also for company, solace and conversation. While I understand this, I am often at a loss to provide it since I refuse to shoulder their burdens along with my own by asking any probing questions and I ran out of things to talk to them about months ago.

Obviously, there are exceptions. One dude, a hard-ridden, pot-head biker with a heart of gold, who defends my honor against the other buffoons, tips well and brings me flowers and banana splits when I have to work doubles, always makes me smile. And I love my Sunday afternoons with another, older gent who I always have interesting and stimulating conversations with about traveling, life etc. Then there's the gal who comes in a couple times a week, who reminds me so much of my mom with her sassiness, and who laughs with me about all the shenanigans occurring around us. They are the people who get me through my week. It's the ones I refer to as the "lifers", who really get me down. I simply cannot fathom having nothing better to do with my life than sit at the same bar, day after day, hour after hour, drinking. Isn't there a movie you want to go see? A book you've been itching to read? Perhaps some sport you'd like to go watch live? It's sad, and although they are perfectly nice people, I find myself struggling to like them. One guy imparticular, has missed exactly 1 day in the 10 months since I've been tending bar... I was so worried, I almost called his house to make sure he was okay. That is a bizarre relationship to have with someone and though he is a hot mess, I've sort of accepted him for what he is and I think he is genuinely good, albeit completely lost.

I keep hoping, since I spend so much of my time there, that one of these days an attractive, single fella will breeze in and blow me away. There have been a few that showed potential, but they're usually just passing through on vacation or business and/or they're married and/or they start off charming then turn into a complete douche after 3 drinks. One dude, who came in every day for a month last winter, was presumably single and certainly not hard to look at, but dumb as a box of rocks. I was appreciative of the temporary eye candy, but ultimately, if you can't turn me on mentally, you might as well just do your jager shot and be on your way... it will free up your stool for someone new to give me hope.

Send me an Angel...

Recently, I have felt as though I am trapped in an M. C. Escher painting; everything is backwards and upside down and nothing is quite as it appears. I lust after people I don't love or even like and I feel love for people I don't desire. I am pursued by people I am uninterested in and I carry torches for people no longer interested in me. I pine for people who once loved me or might someday love me, while turning a blind eye to those who are real and present. I lead people on and wind up hurting them out of curiosity and I frustrate people with my apathy and trepidation. I yearn for people I know aren't right for me, but who I can't have regardless, making me ache for them more. Yet, those who are willing and able to give me everything I claim to want, I turn away and discard. I say I know what I want but when I get it, it's not enough. I long for some intangible feeling, but grow frightened the moment I feel it.

I will have to consult my hippie friends to see if Mercury is in retrograde right now... But seriously, it's been a long time since I felt like things were lining up. The last time I recall feeling love, lust, comfort and longing simultaneously for the same person, was in the first year with my ex. I'd been keeping him at arm's length since we'd met, all the while knowing I was falling into that crazy kind of love with him. The kind where it physically hurt when he wasn't around and when he was, I wanted to crawl inside of him and become one with him and my heart was so full of longing for him in every way that every second he wasn't touching me was madness. We had 'movie love' in the beginning, but it was fleeting. Our fire burned too hot, too quickly and soon enough we were left futilely fanning some embers that had been doused by reality, differing views on life and hard-headedness.

Even though that situation fizzled, I miss those feelings. It's scary and invigorating and it makes you feel alive. I'd like to know that passion again, if only for a moment. Lately I just can't seem to get it right. This leads me to believe that either something significant is right around the corner, or the Universe has simply given up on me and decided to have some fun at my expense. Well two can play at that game, Universe. Maybe I'll go be a lesbian for awhile...

I'm holding out for a hero...

Being a somewhat intelligent, independent gal, I tend to pride myself on being able to take care of business. If my toilet is broken, or my sink is clogged, I pull out my ultimate tool-kit and fix it. However, there are some things I just don't have the time or inclination to learn regardless of how much easier it would make my life. It's these instances when I have to seek outside help which fuel my unhealthy tendency toward 'Hero Worship'. Take, for example, my computer. I know how to screw around on Facebook and Youtube; how to send emails and type this blog. That is the extent of my knowledge of computers and their capabilities. This is why I tend to develop crushes on the pasty, level-9 dungeon masters that work at the Apple store, when they fix my problems and show me how to use Iphoto while passive-aggressively mocking me.

This is also why there are few things more attractive to me than "car guys". Mechanics, tow-truck drivers, or just dudes that know stuff, like how to change your oil. I tend to drive older cars; the one I am currently getting around in is possibly the crappiest car I've ever owned, yet it never gave me any problems until last week. On my way to work one day it died on me, so I had to call a tow-truck the following day to come haul it down the road to my mechanic. When the truck arrived and the driver got out, I was immediately smitten. He was bald, tan, had a goatee and was wearing the ubiquitous dark-grey mechanic pants and button down shirt, both streaked with grease/dirt. He was HOT. Though, if I'm being honest about this, he could have been overweight, middle-aged and covered in open sores and I probably still would've thought he was HOT because he was 'rescuing me', in a manner of speaking. I know it's silly, but I don't think I'm alone in this.

I have had crushes on doctors, policemen and most notably, veterinarians. People tend to find it off-putting when I compare their children to my cats, but I don't care. The fact is, I've had my cats longer than most of my friends have had their kids, so to me it's the same thing--mine just have fur. When they get sick, I panic because I don't know how to fix them. Thankfully, I have a wonderful vet, who not only takes great care of them, but doesn't judge or talk down to me when I am being over-protective and unreasonable. He is a big, hairy, manly, Italian-looking guy, yet he is unbelievably gentle and kind to my boys. There are times when I want to throw him down on that stainless steel examination table and ravage him, (once my cats are safely secured back in their carrier, of course). A few years back, my eldest had to have surgery to remove a tumor on his leg. I was an emotional mess the entire morning, until finally Dr. Handsome called to tell me everything had gone well, the tumor was gone and my baby would be just fine. I was so overwhelmed with love for him at that moment, I seriously considered leaving my boyfriend of the time to pursue this wondrous healer.

I know it's psychological, but is that so bad? People are attracted to other people for a plethora of stupid reasons, many of which are far more superficial. If someone falls in love with me for my cupcake-baking skills and trivial pursuit prowess, who am I to question it? Especially if they know how to lay tile or grout a tub.

just checking