Even the best "laid" plans...

So, I recently got blindsided by a situation I thought was potentially harmless. It was my own fault, really, because I broke my own rule: Never try to have a casual, physical relationship with someone you actually care about. I know this. You can't involve emotions and expect things to not get complicated, yet that's exactly what I did. One of my best friends and I spent the entire month of June and most of July together. I had just returned from my month long, soul-searching road trip, was crashing at a friends' house and feeling somewhat lost and vulnerable. He had just broken up with his long-term girlfriend and was feeling much the same way. Like attracts like, and we just sort of fell into each other... It was one of the best months of my life and his, according to him. We attempted numerous times, to talk about what was happening and what exactly we were doing, but seeing as how we are both commitment-phobic, emotionally-crippled Cancers who share a brain, we came to no real conclusions and figured we would just see what happened. Unfortunately, what happened is jealousy, territoriality and hurt feelings made themselves known. Another girl entered the picture; a girl who has taken over every aspect of my life single-white-female style, including both my jobs. When she decided to set her sights on my whatever-the-hell-he-is-to-me, I kind of lost it. I don't have violent thoughts about people often, yet I found myself wanting to rip her face off so I could sew it to her ass, then kick it. In her very slight defense, she was not privy to what was happening with him and I........at first. So, what's done is done. He is an attention-whore, and she is who is paying attention to him now. Meanwhile, I am left wondering why I chose to spend that much time and energy on something I knew would likely end up in confusion and some form of heartache. The best answer I can come up with is that it felt good, provided a temporary escape from my crazy, unsettled life of late, and re-enforced in my mind what it is I actually want. Or at the very least, what I don't want.

I don't remember asking you a g*#damn thing...

Today is my 32nd birthday and as I reflect over the past year, I'm realizing, it's been a doozy. In many ways, the older I get, the younger I act. It's clearly some form of rebellion from having spent my 20's being a responsible, house-wife type. People have always told me your 30's are fantastic. It's when you finally feel comfortable with yourself; you're entering your prime etc. So far, I would have to say everything I've heard is correct. If year 32 is anything like year 31, I could probably die a happy person by year 33. (Though I sure hope I don't) Lately, however, some of my friends have been feeling pressure from family, friends and douche-bag strangers who seem to think giving unsolicited opinions to someone they barely know, about how sad and lonely they must be because they aren't married, is perfectly okay. My good friend just turned 28 and is regularly hearing things like "You're not getting any younger, you know" and "You'd better hurry up and find someone before all the good ones are taken". First of all...not only is she an amazing catch, she's freaking 28 years old!! Are you kidding me? Last time I checked, it was no longer 1955 and getting married and having 5 kids before your 21st birthday was no longer normal, necessary or expected. (Unless you're Morman or you own a farm) Secondly, I'm a firm believer in good things coming to those who wait. The way I see it, my gals and I are at the age where a lot of good guys' "starter marriages" are going to start hitting the skids. We just have to be patient, ride the wave and be ready to pounce once the divorce papers are signed. Unless they are all emotionally scarred and saddled with big alimony payments and a brood of kids. I hear step-children can be a real bitch... As far as I'm concerned, I will settle down someday when I know it's right, but until then, I refuse to simply settle. I would also lose a little respect for anyone I thought was settling for less than what they want/need/desire/deserve, simply because of outside pressures/influences. Plus, I tend to think the people who throw out those passive-aggressive little nuggets of "wisdom" about needing to find someone by a certain age, or having babies "before you dry up" (one of my least favorite expressions of all time) are the very people who are in boring, mundane and possibly, loveless, sexless, passionless relationships and are just trying to get everyone else paired off so they have more couples to invite over for game night. My "Mr. Right" will arrive when I am ready and willing to accept him--not a moment sooner--and I will have babies if and when I am damn good and ready. Until then, you can find me, margarita-in-hand, dancing the night away with all of my "Ms. Rights" and enjoying every second of my single, wonderful 32-year old life.

Order up Part 2 "Seduction via Food"...

Being seduced by food... it absolutely happens. We've all seen (or at least heard about) the scene in 9 1/2 weeks, where they took food play to a whole new and weird level. Personally, I prefer the style of Like Water For Chocolate, where Tita's passions are so strong, they impart themselves into the food she prepares, consuming those who eat it with overwhelming feelings of love, sadness and despair. I consider myself a "foodie". Some might also say I'm a "wino", though I prefer the more euphemistic "oenophile". The point is, I love food and drink in every way. I still remember the first time a boyfriend cooked for me (and I use the term "cooked" very loosely) He took me on a picnic for my birthday and packed all of my favorite things: grilled cheese sandwiches; Dr. Pepper; skittles. I was 18 at the time and my palette had not yet ventured outside of Lancaster, Pa, but it was wonderful and thoughtful. I was impressed. As I got older and began working in and frequenting nicer restaurants, my tastes broadened. The Olive Garden, once the height of sophistication for my friends and I, suddenly became passe'. (Though, if you catch me in the right mood, I can still appreciate a jug of Lambrusco.) I try not to be a snob... I am equally happy, whether I'm eating lobster ceviche at a celebrity chef-owned, 5 star Vegas restaurant, or a $5.00 tamale out of the back of a mini-van, parked along the side of the road. (Shout out to Brenda, su tamales son deliciosos!) My ex totally won me over with food... he used to work the pantry station at the restaurant where I waitressed and he would constantly fry up "one too many shrimp" or "accidently" make an extra crab dip. On holidays, he would slip me lobster tails on the sly. It worked. He also prepared delicious treats for me at his house when he finally got me back there (which didn't take long after the lobster tails). Guys who subsist on nothing but chicken fingers and burgers, are not the guys for me. If for dinner, I suggest Indian, Thai or Japenese and I hear the words "Ew", "Yuck", or "Seriously?", that's a deal breaker. Because guess what? Later on, when I'm suggesting things elsewhere, I don't want the same response. I am a fan of the naked sushi scene in the first Sex and the City movie... I would absolutely do that, but only for someone I knew could appreciate it. I would also not hesitate to don a whipped cream bikini, ala Varsity Blues, because that just looks FUN. I have had some memorable adventures involving strawberries, popsicles and Nutella (thank you Europe for bringing us that tasty treat), and I look forward to a future filled with many more wonderful and delicious pairings... I just need to find a unique soul, with an equally adventurous palette.

Order up...

For those of you who have never worked in a restaurant, it may surprise you to learn they are one of the most sexually charged work environments on earth. It's no wonder, really. Restaurants are fast-paced, stressful and hot. You are working in very close proximity to a lot of people in a cramped space (kitchens are usually not very large or open). You are constantly bumping into and rubbing up against people. Typically, we work long, odd hours and tend to get off work when the only places still open are bars. The amount of alcohol consumed by a restaurant staff after a shift makes the 5:00 happy hour/cubicle crowd look like a bunch of Sunday school kids. Restaurants are also one of the only places where blatant sexual harassment is not only tolerated, but encouraged for the sake of everyone's sanity. I can't tell you how many times a night I get my ass slapped (usually by the other girls) or how often references are made to "special sauce" and the "pounding of meat", as well as the basic apron un-tying, ice-down-the-shirt flirting and constant sexual innuendo (in your endo.) So, it comes as no surprise to me how many people end up hooking up with co-workers. I am no stranger to this phenomenon myself. It's become evident over the years that I am powerless when it comes to a man in chef pants. I don't know what it is about them...maybe the black and white checkered pattern hypnotizes me. All I know is, if you put an already attractive guy in a pair of chef pants and a chef coat, I am pretty much toast. This obsession began for me at the ripe young age of 16, when I started my first ever waitressing job in a small, family diner in the town where I grew up. The night cook, "Bruce", was a complete red-neck and a bit of an asshole, yet every night after we closed, he would remove his shirt (health codes be damned) and begin cleaning the grill wearing nothing but his dirty chef pants. You could see every muscle in his back and arms constricting as he leaned far over the grill, scrubbing, back and forth, back and forth...sigh. I spent a lot of time in the freezer there, trying not to burst into flames--it was almost too much for my raging, 16 year old hormones to take. Then there was "Rob" at my next job. He was quiet and shy and had those dark, liquid coal eyes that seemed to look directly inside of me and reduce me to a puddle of my former self. He made such an impression, that he and his chef pants landed a starring role in the yet-to-be-submitted Penthouse forum letter I'd scripted called "Slow Night". I wonder what ever happened to him...?? I'm interested to know if offices/factories etc. have this sort of dynamic, since I've never worked in one long enough to see. Is there any serious "supply closet dry humping" happening? School me, people! And the next time you're sitting in a restaurant, take a look around and know that there's a good chance your server is tired, hungover and regretting having slept with the bartender the previous night...

I don't know if I Do, but I might...

In my soon-to-be 32 years of life, I've yet to have the "pleasure" of being a bridesmaid. I've managed to dodge this bullet so far, by a.) surrounding myself with perpetually single, like-minded people who refuse to settle, and b.) by living inconveniently far away from a lot of people I know. I have, however, attended numerous weddings in the last 10+ years. Some were beautiful and memorable, others I've been trying to forget ever since. (That actually sounds a lot like my dating history...) Regardless of who it is that's getting married, or how well I know them, you can be sure I will be doing 2 things during the ceremony: crying like a baby during the vows and silently judging their wedding planning skills while mentally picturing what my own wedding will include. (Plated dinners, cash bar and silk flowers have no place in my world... Champagne fountains, candlelight and all-night dancing, do.) This may come as a surprise to those who don't know me well, but I'm really not anti-marriage. In fact, you might even say I am a closet romantic. I adore the idea of soul-mates, I always have, but I'm also a realist. I'll be the first to admit that when a good friend of mine from high school decided to get married shortly after graduation, I was skeptical. Actually, I was flat-out against it. I thought it was a horrible idea to get married so young, before having experienced life. But now, 12 years later, they are still together, have two beautiful boys and are so in love it's ridiculous. When my little brother tied the knot 5 years ago, I was an absolute wreck. As he put it, "I'm surprised you were able to see the ceremony through your wall of tears". My family is still making fun of me to this day, but I was just so unbelievably happy for them! I was also in love at the time, which I've always likened to having an emotional open wound. When you're that blissfully happy and all those loving feelings are bubbling to the surface all the time, all your other emotions are bound to become uncontrollable as well. The one wedding that was a glaring exception to most others I've been to, occurred 3 years ago. It was a sweltering July evening in rural Pennsylvania. I, along with two close friends, had flown in to attend the wedding of our once good friend "T". He also happened to be an ex-boyfriend, as well as my "first love". During the ceremony, I recall my friend turning to me and asking if I was okay, as though she expected me to burst into tears at any second and throw myself across the alter, screaming "You should be marrying me!!" If it had been 10 years earlier, that would have been a distinct possibility, but that was no longer the case, I assure you. In fact, tears were the last thing I was choking back during that debacle. I've neglected to mention that in the years since high school, "T" had become a bit of a "religious zealot" (to put it nicely) or a "born-again Christian nut-job" (to put it honestly). When, in the middle of the ceremony, the minister began pontificating about the evils of gay marriage and how it's ruining the sanctity of traditional marriage, I thought the three of us were going to lose it. I turned to my friend at that point and asked if she felt like making out, but she declined. So, you can perhaps see why my emotions did not get the best of me in that instance, since I was expending a lot of energy trying not to throw up/laugh/walk out. The reception was not much better since it was both dry and music-free, which to my understanding, is the exact opposite of what receptions are supposed to be, but I digress. I'm certain my luck won't last forever. One of these years, my smart, beautiful, amazing girlfriends will start meeting guys who are worthy of them and my ill-fitting, odd-colored, satin dress-free existence will come to an end...I feel okay about that.

Let's be honest...

I received a 3 a.m. text from a good friend the other night, posing the question "Why do all guys think they are fantastic lovers, when most are merely adequate?" I did not have a good answer for her at the time, although since then, I've had time to ponder and ask around. Here are some of the theories I have come up with... My guess is that the number one culprit behind clueless guys thinking they are awesome, is "the girl who fakes orgasms". She is not a malicious girl, or someone who generally likes to deceive. More likely, she is non-confrontational, tired, or shy and doesn't want to hurt anyone's feelings. We've all been there... when he is trying so hard, but he just isn't getting it. Faking is the easy way out, but I am here to tell you, you are only hurting yourself and perpetuating the vicious cycle of guys thinking they've pleased their ladies and therefore never learning what it actually takes. I beg of you ladies to stop this! If it's not going to happen, tell him! If he is doing it all wrong, by all means tell him! My friend and I decided there are really only two ways guys become good lovers: 1.) If they have sex with an older, experienced woman when they are young, before any fancy, ineffective moves learned from porno's become part of their plan. 2.) If they are in a long-term relationship sometime during their late teens or early 20's. This is an especially good learning tool, since a lot of experimenting takes place when you're young and because practice makes perfect. If and when (usually when) those early long-term relationships end, you are primed and ready to rock someone else's world. Another problem my friends and I have come across, is simple misrepresentation. Nothing is more irritating than being given the impression a guy is going to throw me up against a wall, but in reality he is totally submissive. Don't put it out there if you can't deliver. And for God's sake, don't exaggerate when eluding to size... we're not blind and we've all seen a ruler. Conversely, it can be a very pleasant surprise when someone is quiet and shy and you're not sure what to expect and they turn out to be incredible. I guess it's all part of the mystery and excitement of dating. But, I think we would all be better off being a little more open and honest. Life is too short for mediocre sex, and I for one, shall put up with it no longer.

I like your style...or your complete lack thereof.

I am not what you would consider a "fashionista". I like to think I have my own unique style and a pretty good grasp on what I can pull off and what I can't. I appreciate fashion, don't get me wrong... When I see a cute little 20-something chickadee strutting down the street in 3-inch platform-heeled strappy sandals, I think "Good for you!", knowing full well I would fall flat on my face if I attempted such a look. When it comes to guys and their style, I am all over the place and so are my friends. Generally, I prefer a pretty simple "guy" look. I don't care for hipsters. If you are a dude and you are walking my way in skinny jeans, you should probably keep walking. Same goes for hippies... they are nice to look at because often they are tan and in good shape, but have you ever tried running your fingers through dreadlocks? Besides, the time it takes to wash the patchouli stink out of your sheets afterward just isn't worth it. Try telling that to a girlfriend of mine, though. For her, the dirtier, the better. She likes guys with messy hair, giant holes in their ears and clothes straight out of the $1 bin at Goodwill. Another friend recently admitted to me that she still has a soft spot for certain 80's styles. Specifically, she cited a crush she had a few years back, on someone who still feathered his hair and wore high-top sneakers. I didn't mention it at the time, but I wondered how she and my ex never got together, since he proudly wore skin-tight, white denim jeans and a 'Member's Only' jacket, well into the new millennium. But wait, there's more... he also had a fine collection of those black T-shirts with various animals/lightening bolts/woodland scenery on them, popular throughout trailer parks across the U.S. How did I end up with that dude? I like to blame youth and copious amounts of alcohol. When my friends and I were in our late teens/early 20's, we sat down one night and made lists of all the things we wanted in a guy. They were pretty superficial lists, because at the time, we were pretty superficial. However, the one thing all our lists had in common was "Must wear good shoes". We had a serious issue with guys wearing ugly or dorky shoes and although my priorities have changed quite a lot over the years, that is still one of the first things I notice! I think what it comes down to is that everyone has their own style. Some are weirder than others, but honestly, if I am attracted to you and you can make me laugh, I will probably disregard the fact that you're wearing a hockey jersey. Because let's face it... if we end up together, I'm going to take him shopping for new clothes anyway. That's what girls do, and guys allow it because they want to have sex and that's just not going to happen if they're wearing the same torn boxer shorts they've had since high school.