Trying Hard To Stay Positive & Love My Life

Since one of my recent posts focused solely on negativity and the demise of the human race, I feel the need to write one with a positive vibe.
We all know that it has become hard to see the good in the world, but I usually don't have to look any further than within the circle of my family.  I realize how fortunate I am to be a part of it.  If I'm having a bad day all I have to do is look at my nephew and I'm reminded that good does exist in this world.  I mean, is there anything better than coming home from work to have a dance party in the kitchen with your brother and 3-year-old nephew after a rough day?
It's funny how it usually only takes something small in order to make me smile.  The other day I was very agitated because of work, and had to stop at the grocery store on my way home, which I didn't feel like doing after driving down three quarters of the New Jersey turnpike and then dealing with the tension and misery in the company office.  I ran into the store, grabbed the loaf of bread I needed for dinner and got in line at the self checkout lane.  As I'm standing there, trying not to look annoyed with the people in front of me, a gentleman said, "Excuse me miss, there's a lane open over here," and let me go in front of him.  I smiled and thanked him, and as I walked out the door, the kid who runs the carts told me to have a good evening.  I said the same to him with a smile.  It made me feel nice.  Some other things that restore my hope in humanity, or brighten up my day when I think about them -

• Occasionally someone lets me merge in front of them when I'm exiting 95 into the construction mess on 141.  I always make it a point to roll down my window and wave a thank you to them.
• Occasionally someone lets me in front of them when I have a jackass tailgating me on the highway.  I wave to them as well and return the favor when said jackass is then tailgating the person who was in front of me.
• On one of my jobs the other day, the principal of the school my coworker and I were at came down to the library to introduce himself and welcome us, even offering us coffee from his own personal stash.  The lady who was overseeing the shoot bought us lunch.  Such niceties are rare in my field, and my coworker and I were so appreciative.
• While getting gas at the Woodrow Wilson rest stop on the Jersey turnpike one day, as the attendant handed me my receipt and card back he said, "I hope the red jolly fat man brings you everything you ask for this year!"  I laughed and said, "Same to you!" with a big smile on my face.
• On the drive home from The Smashing Pumpkins concert, my brother and I laughed so hard the entire time that my chest and abs hurt for two days.  It's good to know that even though times are tough for the both of us, we can still act like kids, have fun, and laugh until we cry.
• Last weekend my house was filled with friends and family during the annual Evans Family Christmas Party.  The majority of guests have been a big part of my life since the day I was born.  They have been by my family's side for all of the good times and held our hands while we coped with tragedy, and to celebrate the holidays with them is a blessing I am so grateful to have.
• Little things like having someone get a whiff of my perfume and comment on how nice it smells, or when a rockstar tells me he wants to take me home to New York with him (you know, those little ego  boosters that we all like to hear every once in a while.)

These days we can't switch on the news without hearing of tragedy throughout the world.  It's depressing, it's heart-wrenching and seems to be never ending.  That's why I make it a point to take a break from social media and networking every once in a while and focus my attention on the things that are invaluable - the love I have for my nephew, my family and my friends and the time I get to spend with them.  Those things cannot be bought, but they can still be taken away from me in the blink of an eye, so I know never to take them for granted.

Communication Breakdown

I have put together all kinds of reasons in my head as to why some people in my life seem to think it's proper etiquette to not respond to simple questions.  I have platonic friends, and past and present lovers who do it.  My friends get off a little easier for this transgression, but the ones who have been in my bed and I in their's seem to be the repeat offenders.
That being said, what is UP with the lack of communication skills between human beings?  Now, if we have managed to bypass the bullshit and have had a successful friends with benefits type of relationship, whether in the past or ongoing, why is it acceptable to blow me off?  Your behavior leads me to make more than one assumption -

• You think "Hey, do you like The Smashing Pumpkins?" is the equivalent of me asking, "Will you marry me?"
• "Do you want to go to the gym with me?" is the equivalent of me saying, "Hey, come try to have sex with me even though you know I won't oblige."
• "Hey, can I get those panties I left at your house back, they're one of my favorite pairs" is the equivalent of me saying "I want to have your baby."

I've made these assumptions because I'm not a nag.  I don't text past and present lovers on a daily basis, for any reason.  I don't intend to take over your life and expect to check in on you 80 times a day.  Occasionally I go to concerts and I always like to invite anyone and everywhere to come with me.  Occasionally I get bored going to the gym alone.  And, Oh!  God forbid, I thought my inquisition might pertain to an extra-curricular activity you'd enjoy!  My bad.  I've asked you a simple question, probably not having had contact with you in over a week or so because there has been no need.  We've engaged in non-sexual activities, as friends, before, so when I ask you if you fucking like The Smashing Pumpkins, I deserve a fucking yes or no, not hearing it secondhand that you wouldn't go - even if you had the money - from my brother.  And since you're obviously over our friendship/fuckship/whatever-hell-it-was, but get along famously with my brother, maybe you can just give him those panties I left at your house.  But he would die.  And probably punch you.

Maybe it's just because you're a jerk and you belong in the jerk store - the one of which I seem to be the owner of.  That would be the simple explanation.

Please, please, please, I need some kind of justification for this behavior.  We are all on our phones 24/7 - I know you saw my text and I know you harbor some sort of affinity for me because you're blowing up my phone just hours after I texted you, yet it's not to answer whatever my question was.

Thanks for the aggravation, butthead. 

I Have No Doubt That This Is Gonna Hurt - MDTBL #3

So I've been going to the gym for about two weeks now.  No big deal, right?  Hey, for someone who has an easy time maintaining bad habits and hard time even starting good ones, it is a big deal.  Last Monday I met with a trainer and he gave me a rundown of what to expect if I decided I wanted to start a regimen, including a workout session.  The first day I had gone back to the gym and done some cardio I thought, Hmm, I guess I'm not as out of shape as I think I am.  I was wrong.  Dead wrong.  Just because I can sweat it out on the elliptical for a good 45 minutes and not feel like I'm dying doesn't mean I'm in any kind of shape.  The trainer took my weight and BMI - I weigh 167 pounds (I was only slightly surprised the number was that high, but I guess all the drinking I did over the summer caught up with me,) and my BMI is at 39%.  That means this body of mine is 39% fat.  Ew.  (Thank God I'm pretty.)  Apparently I'm in the danger zone - for my height and age, the ideal BMI range is 18-23%.  Okay, take the information, process it, file it away and keep moving forward.
Once we had gone over the basics, we went into the gym and this guy had me doing all kinds of funky exercises that definitely had me feeling like I was going to die.  Leg lifts?  Okay, not a problem.  Squats with the yoga ball?  I can handle this.  Jumping jacks?  No big deal...yes, yes this is starting to be a big deal....the mountain climber?  (You know, when you hit the ground and alternate bringing each knee up to your chest.)  Umm....you want me to do 30 seconds of these moves, continuously?  Fuuuu....
By the time he was done with me I was covered in sweat and completely out of breath.  But this is a good thing. I need someone teaching me these types of exercises and encouraging me to keep going when I want to quit.  People like me are the reason fitness and weight loss are billion dollar industries.
Let me stress, again, that I have no desire to be "skinny," to look anorexic, or to be a size zero.  Nor do I have any desire to have 6-pack abs or "ripped" muscles on any part of my body.  I mean, when the trainer asked me if I had any questions, the first thing out of my mouth was, "I'm not going to lose any of my curves, am I?"  I love my ass and hips - they're what I have going for me.  He laughed and told me no, the goal is to get me a bit leaner, more toned, and healthier.  Sounds good to me.
I just have to keep reminding myself that yes, this is going to hurt.  It's not going to be easy.  But it's going to be worth it when I can run up the 3 flights of stairs to my boy's apartment and not want to pass out once I get to his door.  It's going to be worth it when instead of being mildly aware of what my body looks like from certain angles during sex, I won't be concerned at all.  It's going to be worth it when I have more energy and even more confidence than I already do (which will be hard to top anyway.)
Yes, Dana, this is going to hurt.  But it's going to be totally worth it.

Time To Put On Some Big-Girl Panties and Deal With It (MDTBL, #2)

This past work season has been particularly taxing on me, and I've come to the conclusion that I just can't do it anymore and need to find a new job.  I can't be a school portrait photographer for the rest of my life.  I'm embarrassed to answer when I'm asked what I do for a living, and this job has taken my passion for photography and crushed it.  I don't feel like doing it for myself anymore, some days I don't even want to look at a camera.  The disadvantages of my job are overwhelmingly disproportionate to the benefits - I'm not guaranteed work 365 days a year, I travel long distances (I'm paid 42 cents for every mile I drive, but only after a 50 mile deductible & that's not enough to cover new tires, oil changes, and other basic vehicle maintenance,) dealing with school age children who have no regard or respect for their elders, their peers or themselves and are socially inept, dealing with staff and administrators who aren't much better than the children, bending over backwards to please these kinds of people only to be treated like dirt or an inconvenience, walking into my office to find everyone in a bad mood 90% of the time, being told I'm to trust my company with booking me hotel rooms only to be told at the last minute that nothing's available...the list goes on.
There are days I love my job, but they have become few and far between.  Not only am I the one behind the camera, but I am also out on the road representing my company.  I'm expected to walk into every job with a smile on my face and prepared to bend over backwards for the people who have hired us.  That usually doesn't come hard for me, but it's getting to be with every mile I drive, every building I walk into, every time I click the damn shutter on the camera.
The main reason I've become so discontent is because my job does not challenge me in ways that would make me a better employee and all-around person in the long run.  I face insignificant challenges every day that irritate me.  The bottom line is that I don't usually have to use my brain and I'm missing that.  Now granted, I'm going to miss the flexibility of my job - plenty of time off in the summer to sit by the pool or go to the beach and the half days I work while getting paid my full rate.  But when your full rate can't pay the bills, something needs to change.  I've spent my entire twenties partying my ass off and pissing away my money.  It's time to put on my big girl panties and get a big girl job with benefits and a 401K.
I've put my resume back together and have a few professionals going over it to help me polish it up.  Once that's done, (I'm hoping by the end of this week,) I will be cranking it out to anyone who will read it.
I have a feeling this particular road is going to be a long one and I'm a little terrified to start down it, but I'm excited to start a new professional life.

My Dirty Thirty Bucket List

This past summer I turned 29, one more year until the Dirty Thirty.  Well, this year has dwindled down to about nine months, and I had made a promise to myself that by the time I hit 30, I'd be ready mentally and physically to take over the world.  This series of posts - My Dirty Thirty Bucket List (MDTBL) will focus on what I am doing in order to make this happen.

Last week I made the first step to getting myself in shape - I joined a gym.

As for a little background, I've dabbled with going to the gym over the years, never to much avail.  I was never that into working out.  Well, over the past four years I've lost about 50 pounds.  The weight started coming off when I began working in the pharmacy department at the hospital, where most days I was lapping the entire building(s) several times during a shift.  I would take the stairs instead of elevators, and joined the gym because it was convenient.  Then my relationship started going down the tubes and instead of turning to food for comfort, I damn near lost my appetite completely.  I was still eating, just not as much and my body became accustomed to that.

When I left my job at the hospital, the weight still kept coming off, but I was no longer going to the gym, mostly because of my financial situation and the fact that there weren't any facilities in close proximity to my house.  I drive long distances for my current job and the last thing I want to do after work is sit in rush hour traffic in downtown Wilmington.  Or pay an astronomical fee to go the one in Hockessin.

I've somehow managed to maintain my weight loss and have felt better than I have in years.  So I've made it my goal to improve myself even more.  While dropping another 20 pounds would be great, I've joined the gym in order to get healthier.  Our bodies need exercise, plain and simple.  My main goal is to tighten up this body of mine that hasn't started sagging quite yet while I can still do it rather easily.

I'm not turning into a health buff and making drastic changes to my habits.  You will never catch me deciding to be a vegan, or go vegetarian for that matter.  And you'll never see me pass up a slice of heaven that is Grotto's Pizza or a six pack of Bud Light.  But I figure it can't hurt to start a regular exercise and strength training routine.  Stay tuned for updates! 

Happy Thanksgiving Loverlies

Ok, ok, I feel obligated to do a quick Thanksgiving post before it's time to head to my aunt and uncle's place for the traditional hoopla that our family calls the start of the holidays.
So what am I thankful for this year?  Let's start with the obvious.

• My liver survived another year
• Birth control
• The family
• The friends
• A roof over my head and food in my belly
• Good health

What else?

• I'm finally starting to grow up
• I have learned to figure out when I'm being mistreated before it's too late and put an end to it
• That my communication skills when it comes to relationships have improved immensely
• That I am anti-Black Friday shopping.  Fuck all of that nonsense

That about covers it for now.  Have a great Thanksgiving and try not to gorge yourselves too much today. *kisses*

We'll Call It A Hiccup

Okay so for a minute I thought the buzzard was trying to make his way back home.  I've determined that no, he isn't, and even if he was, there's no chance in hell I'd let him.  (The latter was always a definite.)  The other day we had breakfast and spent the entire afternoon together.  I had a hard time reading his thoughts or even his mood.  Still couldn't figure out what he wanted with me - if it was anything other than sex, which is always the case with him and something he wasn't going to get.
It's not always an easy lesson to learn that some things never change.  I ended up finding out a few days later what he was hiding from me, (I mean, it's not that hard - people talk,) and if I had known then what I know now, I never would have even given him the chance to be sitting across the table from me.
I wanted desperately to call him out on it in the meanest way possible.  But that's just not how I roll.  Instead, the other night, I went about it in a sneaky way, a way he would be responsive to.  Judging from our conversation, he confirmed the little tidbit that I already knew without coming out and saying it.  I've known the man for five years and his behavior has become pretty easy for me to predict.
Obviously this cycle seems never ending.  Whatever.  We all have our vices, and mine just happens to be a tattooed, middle aged, brick shithouse of a biker that found his way into my heart and doesn't seem to want to leave.
I realized something - he won't let me go.  I've let him go, I've walked away and stayed away.  He isn't capable of it.  He always comes back and I have no idea why.  If I l can eradicate him from my life and move on, why can't he?  I'll never know the answer because he won't come out and tell me what it is about me that keeps him holding on.  I mean, come on, it's not like I'm the best lover he's ever had, or even the prettiest one....well, maybe the prettiest...but that's no reason to hold on to something.  He won't give me the satisfaction of hearing what every girl wants to hear, the satisfaction of hearing the reasons why he can't let go, something along the lines of "I love you, I can't get you out of my head, you made my life better, you're beautiful, I'm addicted to you, you make me feel safe, I love your company, etc."  That kind of shit is too hard for him to say out loud.
Regardless, I erased the text messages and phone calls from the past few weeks.  Don't try to come back into my life only to have me discover you kicked one psycho out of your house and promptly let another one move in.  You really think I'm that stupid?  No wonder he didn't want to go home after breakfast that day.  If I had some piece of trash taking advantage of me and living in my home with her deadbeat son, I wouldn't want to go back there either.  All of those adages are applicable here - don't shit where you eat, you made your bed, now you have to lie in it...on and on.
I never put his number back into my contacts and it's not memorized.  (Thank goodness for these days of not having to memorize them because of the convenience of cell phones.)  So we'll call it a hiccup.  They happen, it's all in how we handle them, and this time I'm patting myself on the back for doing such a good job.

Don't Try To Do Your Christmas Shopping With A Major Hangover

A few weeks ago my girl friend and I decided to plan a weekend at the beach in order to do our Christmas shopping, and Rehoboth has more outlet stores than I can wrap my head around.  It just so happened that the weekend we chose was when the season-closing parties for The Rusty Rudder and The Starboard were going on.  Perfect!

Needless to say, Christmas shopping when you're hungover as hell is quite a nightmare.  Somehow Friday night, my friend and I ended up wasted at the Rudder.  Damn those shots.  And I got a phone call from my uncle around 10:30 Saturday morning - "Okay, I should be getting down there around 6:00.  I want you two to be at one hundred percent so that I can take you down peg by peg."  The scary thing was that I knew he wasn't joking.  

When we walked into Banana Republic a short time later, the look we exchanged with each other said it all - "This is going to suck."

Meeting back in line at the registers, she said to me, "Someone bumped into me at the rack and I nearly flipped out.  I need food.  And a beer."  It wasn't even noon.

We rallied ourselves and managed to get most of our shopping done with a lunch break at Applebee's somewhere in between.  Even though I still have a few people left to buy for, I'm very proud of myself for getting almost all of it done and sticking (within reason) to my budget.

Once we called it quits we focused on resting up for the evening.  A power nap and a shower, along with a couple slices of pizza, helped speed that process along.  Then it was time for the last hurrah of the season in Dewey Beach - the closing party at The Starboard.  Shots of Fireball whiskey before we head out?  Anyone?
I'll try not to beat a dead horse here.  You all know how much I love Dewey and what I do when I'm down there.  We partied like rock stars.  We drank our faces off and had a great time doing it.  I didn't have to worry about anyone catching me on a walk of shame the next morning - the only perk of it being early November.
So I know I said this when I posted about Labor Day Weekend, but now I can truly say that the season has come to a close, and now it's time to hunker down and pray for spring time.  Specifically, St. Patty's Day and the Starboard opening.

Jenny and I enjoying our last Grapefruit Crush of the season.

Most Of Us Really Are Living On the Edge

I'm living in a world where every one gets a trophy just for showing up.
I never got a trophy when I played baseball because I wasn't good at it, and that was okay with me.  I got my trophies singing my heart out all throughout my school career, from dedicating much of my time to practicing, rehearsing and performing.  When I got a varsity letter my freshman year for being on the swim team, I felt it was entirely undeserved, but the swim team is considered all around varsity.  
We spend an absurd amount of money on fancy, gourmet birthday cakes for babies while teaching them it's okay to verbally assault people over the internet.
Seriously, what are they going to think when they find out one day that daddy consistently called mommy a whore or that mommy trashed daddy for not paying child support?
Because, let's face it, we're living in a world where having a baby is not a big deal anymore.  The next generation might as well be called the "Oops Generation."
Which is one of the main reasons I make it a point to take my birth control and practice safe sex.  And when it comes down to it, I don't sleep with people I wouldn't at least consider having a child with.
I'm living in a world where, if asked whether or not I believe in God and all I say is yes, my response is immediately taken as a threat and I'm bashed for even having faith.
On the flip side, I'm living in a world where evangelists and right wing maniacs have distorted faith and religion so much that they now carry a nasty stain.
In my world, I go to work every day.  I pay my car insurance.  I pay my health insurance.  I make about $100 too much to qualify for government assistance.  But I still work, and I still pay my bills, with little or no money left over to put into my savings.
It must be nice to sit on your ass all day and know the government will take care of you.  I bought my iPhone with money from the same checking account I pay my bills out of.  You know, the one my paycheck is deposited into.
I'm living in a world where Nicki Minaj and Justin Bieber are considered "talent."
Enough said.  Where's the noose?
We are living in a world where young people demand respect from their elders without giving it first.
Remember the phrase "You have to earn respect before receiving it?"  Yeah, that's been lost in translation.

I'm tired of seeing the same status updates on Facebook, down to the most unimportant detail of someone's day.
I don't care what side of the bed you woke up on.  Unless it was in the middle of street in downtown Wilmington and you seemed to have lost your pants, I'm not interested.

I don't care what you're making for every meal of every day, either.
We are living in a world where shit like that has become the basis for our entertainment.
I'm stuck in this world where fact-checking has gone down the drain and people immediately believe what they see or read without looking into it first.
In today's world making the commute to work is enough to drive one insane.  We seem to have forgotten common courtesy and the fact that we will all get to our destination one way or the other.  You're not going to be late if you let even just one car merge in front of you.
We are all racing to the red light.
I'm living in a world where if I were to play Warren Zevon's Werewolves of London, it would be mistaken for that Kid Rock song.
I'm shaking my head.
In my world, asking someone to sit up straight is like asking them to shove bamboo shoots  under their fingernails.
Doesn't your back hurt from being slumped over all day?  Oh, and by the way, close your mouth.  You look like you're missing a chromosome.
I'm living in a world where it is expensive to eat healthy and cheap to just not care anymore.
I've been over this before.
I'm living in a world where the word judgmental has become a common adjective to describe someone's character.
Maybe if we stopped and put ourselves in someone else's shoes for a second, we'd think twice.  Maybe if we got to know our neighbors the world would be a nicer place.  Maybe if we weren't so quick to shove our beliefs down someone else's throat they would be willingly to listen to what we have to say.
We are living in a world where children are abducted and found murdered over car parts, or they are abused by someone they trust at a day camp.  You can't send your kids to school, vacation bible school, or sports camp without worrying whether or not they will be returned to you mentally intact or intact at all.
What is provoking this sickness that is rearing its ugly head in our society?  We are destroying our children, one by one, leaving them to grow up jaded and desensitized with no faith in humanity at all.
I am living in a world where evil is overshadowing good.  Drug cartels have taken over Mexico and leaving severed heads in front of elementary schools as a threat to teachers if half of their wages are not paid to cartels.
Excuse me, but what the fuck.  That makes the shit hole schools in run down neighborhoods I sometimes work in look like first class private academies.
The bottom line is that we're living on the edge.  Everyone is on the edge.  I feel it too.  Some days I want to flip out on the person in front of me in line at the store because they're paying for their goods with $20 in change.  But I don't.  Because I don't know what their situation is.  Maybe they scrounged up all they had left to buy a gallon of milk for their kids.
It's easier to be a dick than to be nice.  It's easier to keep walking instead of hold the door open for the person behind you struggling with an armload of stuff.  It's easier to cut the old person off to pull into the parking spot they were waiting for.  It's easier to discriminate rather than open our minds to something we're not familiar with.  We're all guilty of it; it's how we handle it.  Let's face it - we're living on the edge, but Steven Tyler says it better than I can.

Has the Buzzard Come Back To Roost?

I don't know if buzzards actually "roost," but the phrase seems appropriate.

When I got into my car after work one day a few weeks ago I looked at my phone and saw a text message - Hey how have you been - from an unsaved number.  But I knew all too well who it was - it was that monster from my past, the one I thought I had abolished from my life.  Second time in a week.  I waited a half an hour to text him back, finally deciding that it was possible for me to be grown up about it.  "I'm good how about you?"  He immediately texted back.  "Call me."

I restrained from giving him the response I was really thinking.

Ugh!  Why??  What do you want from me?  I haven't seen or had contact with you since the beginning of the summer.  You destroyed me beyond recognition and I finally wised up, walked away, and rebuilt my life!  Remember how I said I didn't want your bullshit and I don't need it, so fuck you??  I meant that!  Why do you feel the need to contact me now?  Because you're lonely?  Because you fucked up and are just now realizing it?

I switched on my blue tooth and did it.  I called the bastard.  Why not?  I'm a big girl now and he can't hurt me anymore.  I'm strong enough to not get sucked back into his twisted world.  He asked how I was and what was new, we bullshitted for a bit and he asked if I wanted to meet for a drink.  I didn't have any plans and it was still early so I figured why the hell not, let's see what the bastard really wants.

"Where should we go?  I'm banned from Cheney's...something happened with the club...I'm not even sure what, I wasn't involved..." 

(Yeah, right, I'm sure you were right there in the middle of whatever it was.  And if Cheney's can ban you shitheads why can't Murph's?  I know and like the owners and don't want you around them.)

We ended up meeting at a bar down the street from my house, one that - believe it or not - neither of us had been to.  We figured it was safe because we wouldn't see anyone we knew.  He was concerned about club affiliations I'm sure, but so was I; I didn't need anyone I knew seeing me with him in general.

As I sat in the parking lot waiting for him I wondered what my reaction was going to be when I saw him for the first time in four months.  I was surprised that he had called me this soon; I expected at least another couple of months to go by before I heard from him.  Deep down, regardless of the fact that I truly didn't care if I had never heard from him again, I knew he wouldn't stay away.  But I wouldn't go as far as to say that I was anticipating it.
So what happened when I saw him walk up to the door?  Nothing.  I watched him from my car for a few seconds; he was the on the phone, looking around for me.  Some things never change.  Was I nervous?  Of course.  I was about to have a drink with a man who had been a huge part of my life for four years - a love affair that ended in a bitter and nasty manner.  At least on my end.
He didn't look bad.  Bummer.  I was secretly hoping he looked like hell so I wouldn't feel anything at all, not even a slight tug in the place he used to know so well.  But really it made no difference - I didn't feel anything when I saw him.
We went and sat at the bar, he was still on the phone, toting paperwork he had to get finished up.  Of course.  Let's fill out tax forms and mail motorcycle payments from the bar.  No big deal.  I was shaking my head every time he wasn't looking.  That's one of the things that used to piss me off about him - whenever I expected or needed undivided attention, I never got it.  His mind was always somewhere else.  It wasn't until the checks were written and envelopes sealed that he fixed his gaze on me.  Jesus, it was like looking at a trashy version of Christian Grey, wearing jeans and work boots and covered in tattoos.  Minus the red hair.  Shudder.  I had so much I wanted to spew at him.  I wanted to berate him, tear him down and point out every single one of his flaws.  That would have taken all night so I decided against it.  Instead I played cordial.  One word answers.  He doesn't need to know I'm seeing someone.  He doesn't need to know what I do in my spare time anymore.  I'm content with him being oblivious when it comes to my personal life.  I in turn asked the general, polite questions, working my way up to what I really wanted to hear from him - how his life has gone to shit since I left.  I know all the details already, I just wanted to hear from his own mouth.  But he wouldn't grant me that pleasure.
So really all that happened that night was a couple of old friends catching up.  We parted ways with a hug and a kiss, and I had the feeling that wouldn't be the last time I saw him...

I was right.

Why I Shouldn't Log Into Facebook During Election Time

I personally think Facebook is overrated and overused.  But I've been sucked into the world of social networking just like the rest of you.  I usually log in while I'm drinking my morning coffee and do a quick scroll to see whose birthday it is and to catch any important updates.  Note that I said the word "important." I don't care what your plans are for the day unless they include me.  And I don't work with even 1/8th of you.
I haven't seen too many status updates pertaining to the upcoming presidential elections aside from the torrent of nonsense put out every time there was a debate, but the ones I do see have me second-guess "friendships" I have with those who post about it.  I've decided who I am going to vote for, but it's my business and no one else's.  The only people I've discussed it with are my mother and one of my closest friends.  If you want to know, you can ask me.  I don't need to announce it to all of my friends, anyone I meet, or the Facebook nation, and I'm not going to.  I think we can all agree that this year's election is personal.  For me it all boils down to the social issues plaguing our nation - Medicare, home interest mortgage deductions, immigration, equal pay and funding for Planned Parenthood.
The other morning I read a well written status by a guy I used to go to school with -
"I have finally 100% made up my mind who I am going to vote for for President of the United States. I have spent the past year watching tons of Republican Primary Debates, both conventions, all three Presidential debates, and the Vice Presidential debate. I have taken care to get my news from a variety of sources- talk radio, Fox News, Cnn- the whole political gambit. And I have a million reasons for my decision I'd be happy to discuss with any of you. I endorse President Barak Obama."  (This was quoted with permission.)
As you can see, he didn't attack either candidate or ramble on about why he is choosing to vote for President Obama.  He did what I believe most people on my timeline don't - took the time to get his information from both sides of the spectrum and based his decision on who he thinks is the best person for the job.  Whether it's right or wrong is no one else's call to make, and whether or not I agree with him is irrelevant.  (I do, by the way.)  But my favorite part of this status update is "...I have a million reasons for my decision I'd be happy to discuss with any of you."  Note he didn't feel the need to clog his friends' timeline with his reasons.
I was tempted to respond to a post someone made bashing the President and expressing support of the Republican candidate, but I figured my opinion was better left unsaid.  The person has every right to voice their opinion, but the way it was done and their choice of words is what made me shake my head.  I wanted to respond with something along the lines of - "If he does get elected, I hope you are blessed with a daughter shortly there after...then you might rethink how you feel," but I held my tongue.  I don't have the time or energy getting into "Facebook wars."  I save my comments for nice pictures, celebratory statuses and birthdays.
This is all relevant to a previous post I made, No, You Cannot Come Into the Voting Booth With Me.  I could go on and on about the dumb shit I see posted on Facebook every day.  Why do I keep logging onto it you might ask?  Because sometimes the dirty laundry people air for all the world to see makes me feel better about my own life.

We Can't Let the Music Scene Die

What happened to being able to go hear local bands in your favorite bar minus the pretentiousness?  The Big Kahuna is extinct, and most of the other bars that provided a decent venue for bands to play have moved away from that scene.  So those of us music lovers who just want to rock out every once in a while are left with slim pickings or making the 30 minute + drive up to Philly.
On the plus side, Wilmington does have World Cafe Live at the Queen, a relatively new, two-in-one venue on Market Street where one can go to hear local bands and big names as well.  There's ample room, you can sit at a table and eat while listening to a band play and there's usually more than one event going on at a time.  You can play Quizzo on Monday nights or catch the 4W5 Blues Jam every Wednesday.  They've hosted the likes of The Pixies, George Clinton & the P-Funk Allstars, and the Bob Marley tribute band Spokey Speaky.  Not to mention Beer & Wine events, kid shows and you can book private parties.  I've only been once, but a few of my friends have played the stage there.  I'm thinking of catching Ozomatli on the 25th of October.
There's also Moodswing, which opened up last fall and is right down the street from my house.  It's in an unlikely location for a nightclub, but typically hosts a packed house every weekend.  I've been a few times when they've had live bands.  September 25th they hosted The Dirty Pearls (one of my favorite bands) and Bret Michaels.  (Yes, I was there.)  Moodswing is a good place for the beach bands to play during the off season.  I've seen Kristen & the Noise, Mr. Greengenes, Chorduroy and Love Seed Mama Jump there on Friday nights during the winter.  They offer all kinds of VIP packages and event specials, click the link for more info.
Okay, so there's Firestone Roasting House as well.  Situated right on the waterfront, the outside bar and seating is really nice.  But it's really only good in the summer.  If you don't mind huge crowds.  They typically have live bands on the weekends, the same ones that play Moodswing during the winter months.  Again, if you don't mind huge crowds.  Or anywhere from a $10 - $20 cover charge.  (I don't know how or why, but the head bouncer never takes my money anymore.  Maybe because my sister in law and I have frequented the place enough over the past year, or I inadvertently flirt with him and he likes it?)  It's always a mixed crowd which is nice as opposed to the monotony that is prevalent in a lot of other places.  Great food too, by the way.  You can go for dinner and stay for the music.  Try the pizza - it's out of this world.

That's three venues that are still making an effort to keep the music scene alive.  There used to be so many more.  The fact that there's people out there who play music for fun and do it well should be celebrated and promoted as much as possible and I know I'm not the only one who feels this way.  I also know it could be so much worse and I could live in a town where there's...nothing.  For now I will be satisfied with catching a decent live band every once in a while, or making that trek up to Philly when the mood strikes me.

You Can Still Be A Sexy, Crazy Bitch In Comfy Clothes - Buckcherry at Xfinity Live! Philadelphia

Last night I was sitting on the couch in yoga pants and a hoodie watching Happy Feet with my nephew and scrolling through my Twitter feed.  I happened to come across a tweet from Buckcherry and learned that they were playing a free show at Xfinity Live! Philadelphia.  "What?!  How did I not know about this?!"  Jay was on his way over because the plan was to veg out and watch scary movies.  That changed real fast.  I shot him a text - "So Buckcherry is playing at Xfinity - let's go!"  "Ok."  I love that he goes with my flow.

So I threw on long johns under a pair of jeans, (the show was outside,) my Doc Martens, and ran a brush through my hair.  There was no time to slut it up, being that we live about a half an hour from the sports complex, the gate had already opened, and it was cold outside.  We missed Lit, but made it well before Buckcherry went on.

We got there around 9:30, and on top of free admission it was free parking.  Score!  Was I thankful for the long johns I had put on?  Yes.  It was quite humorous watching all those women freezing their asses off and having trouble walking around on the brick/concrete ground.  For as crowded as it was, it was pretty easy to get to the bar as well.  Another score.  And I really can't say I minded spending over $6 for a Coors Light when I didn't have to pay an outrageous amount of money to park or see one of my favorite bands up close and personal.
The show itself was great - Buckcherry rocked the house.  I expected no less, dancing around in my Docs, the previous night's makeup, and showing my support for Concord high school's football team with my hoodie.  I think the last time I saw these guys was back in 2010 at the Wells Fargo Center.

It just goes to show you never when your night will take a turn for the awesome.  I was planning on laying on the couch in sweats while watching movies.  I ended up seeing one of my favorite bands, for free, and getting the chance to say hey to Josh Todd and Stevie Decanay.  Pretty fucking cool.  They love their fans and know how to make us all feel sexy, even in comfy clothes.

You never forget the first rockstar to reach down your shirt and cop a feel.

Guitarist and photographer extraordinaire, Stevie Decanay.

"No Uterus, No Opinion"

-Installment Number Four-
It disgusts me to note that my reproductive system and politics are too intertwined.  So I take birth control.  In order to prevent pregnancy.  I take that little white pill every night and use condoms to lessen my chances of getting knocked up by mistake, even if it's by someone I love.  When I didn't have health insurance, I didn't refill my prescription, so I was even more careful to use condoms and take other necessary precautions.  So these people who think birth control is evil or unnecessary and think that teaching abstinence is the sole answer to prevent unwanted pregnancy tend to get under my skin.  Don't judge me, don't criticize me.  In my opinion, not enough people practice effective birth control.  Let me make my small contribution by not having an unwanted child.  Yes, I might be a privileged white girl from the suburbs and if I were to have a baby right now it wouldn't be the end of the world and I wouldn't end up on Medicaid.  But I should still be entitled to make my own decisions when it comes to my body.  Same goes for every other woman.  What she does with her body is her own business.  I'm not necessarily pro-choice, but I can't say I'm pro-life either.  I don't think abortion should be used as a backup plan, but I wouldn't dare judge another person for the choices they make - it's not my place.  Nor is it your's.

No, You Cannot Come Into the Voting Booth With Me

-Installment Number Three-
I don't even really want to elaborate on the upcoming presidential election.  All I can do is shake my head.  I made myself watch the debate the other night and I can honestly say that I'm frightened for the future of this country.  I feel an impending sense of doom.  It doesn't help that we are bombarded with political ads and are unable to decipher fact from fiction.  I don't know who or what to believe, I don't know if there even is a better option.  So we have to go with the lesser of two evils?  It truly, truly frightens me to think where this country will be in the next four years.  I said to Ma while we were watching Romney repeat and contradict himself, and Obama not doing much better, "You know, if Pop had just been able to get his shit together, he could have been president.  He was a logical man when he wanted to be, and I remember some of his views being a little extreme, but the man would have cleaned this mess up."
Everything needs an overhaul, starting with the educational system.  I'm in schools every day, and what I see scares me.  Teachers are babysitting as opposed to teaching.  (That's a whole different beast, I'm a firm believer in that we are all products of our environments - home life and school life are two entirely different worlds.)  Awards for "adequate progress" are a joke.  The healthcare system, military spending, financial institutions, importing, exporting and immigration policies - it all needs a drastic makeover.  We can talk about it until we're blue in the face, but what are we going to do about it?  If I had chosen a different path in life, maybe I would have gone into politics.  But I'm not cut out for that, so that's why I want a government in office I can trust and have faith in, (ha, what a joke)  that keeps the best interests of the American people in mind rather than lining its own pockets.  I think that's what most of us want.  Okay, I'm done with this part.  I could go on and on, but if I don't have resources to back myself up, I'm going to stop.

My Style Is Mine, Not Your's (But If We Share A Common Taste, Cool.)

-Installment Number Two-
So I like to poof my hair up as high as possible.  I don't fucking care that Snooki made it popular.  I was doing it before she was born.  I like it.  I think my hair looks pretty damn good when I get it just right.  And as lame as it sounds, I get a little pissy when I hear criticism for it.  I do it for me, and no one else.  Did I point out to a girl at the bar the other night that her fishtail looked like hell because her hair was too short to have it all swept on one side?  No, because I bet she thought it looked fantastic.  As well she should have.
Trust me, there's plenty of style trends I think are utterly ridiculous - I mean, who told women that short shorts and boots looks good?  I don't care who you are - shorts with boots in 80 degree weather, or any weather, is not flattering.  And what is with the pajama pants & Uggs combination being acceptable in public?  I get embarrassed for the girls I seeing sporting those "trends."  And that is my opinion.  But you see, I would expect a friend or relative to tell me, "Oh girl, no."  Or "Pull up your pants, you've got a bit of muffin top going on."  I'm not going to be offended, I'm going to be thankful that someone cared enough to prevent me from going out in public a hot mess.
I love my red skinny Dickies, my black leather cowboy boots with the 38 special bullet harnesses, my ripped up leggings and my fitted band tee shirts.  I didn't spend 10 years playing with makeup to finally get it perfect just for shits and giggles.  I fucking love makeup.  I love experimenting with it, I love wearing it.  I remember one night I went over Tommy's in yoga pants, a tank top and no makeup except for a some mascara.  He commented, saying "Wow, you look really pretty."  "Really?  I'm not wearing any makeup."  "Maybe that's why."  Now was that a really nice compliment?  Yes.  But it still irked me a bit.  I don't know why.  Call me crazy, but before I die I'm going to have to teach someone to do my makeup the way I do it so I don't look like a train wreck laid out in the casket.  And I better be wearing leather pants.

What I Put In My Mouth Shouldn't Be Anyone Else's Business

-Installment Number One-
So I'm not a vegan.  Nor do I even have the slightest desire to become one.  If you're a vegan, cool.  Good luck with that.  I don't need it literally and figuratively shoved down my throat.  Unfortunately most vegans I've come across have a tendency to do just that.  Not all, but most.
But I'm not a glutton for junk food either.  Do I hate the fact that organic food is so much more expensive than non?  Yes.  Do I hate the fact that it's easier for me to hit Wawa and grab a container of grapes, cheese and crackers because a) the prep work has already been done for me and b) I can tell  myself it's healthy?  Yes.  I don't know what kind of preservatives and shit have been put in that stuff, but I tell myself it's better than a hot dog.  Yes, I am bothered by the fact that I, among with millions of other people, have become complacent and basically replaced nutrition with convenience.  The problem is I don't know what to do about it.  I don't really know how to grow a garden, and a $50 trip to the grocery store is less strain on my wallet than a $100 one.  It kills me that food - a basic necessity we all need to survive - has gotten so expensive over the last two years.  I've watched a box of Triscuits go from $2.59 to $4.59 in a matter of months.  Same with milk, bread and cereal.  It's ironic that government programs have been established to encourage America to eat healthier, yet "bad" food is still less expensive to manufacture than the "good food."  I can get Hot Pockets for $1.50 as opposed to chicken breasts and fresh vegetables running me over $10.
Does it bother me that I see obese kindergartners all the time because it's easier and  less expensive to run through McDonald's drive through and order from the dollar menu three nights a week rather than have a home cooked meal on the dinner table?  Absolutely.
Occasionally I enjoy a big-ass steak, medium rare thanks.  Or a slice of greasy heaven from Grotto's, which I think we all should be entitled to every once in a while.  Don't judge me.  I have learned the art of moderation.  Go eat your gluten free cookies.

No One Needs A Sprinkle of Pretentiousness In Their Morning Coffee

I'm sitting here nursing a hangover with sea salt and olive oil crackers and a can of Coke, wasting the morning away scrolling through Tumblr.  I kind of wish I had never discovered it.  Things I see and read are insane.  If there's a social blogging forum that wins the award for pretentiousness, Tumblr is it.  Mine has mostly become a place for me to post my own stuff, music I like, fashion I'm into, makeup tips or Instagram shots.  I rarely re-blog anything anymore because I never come across anything worthy of putting on my own Tumblr.  (Haha, who's pretentious now?)  But this also goes for real life too.  I'm sick of the media, social networking and/or people in general telling me how I should eat, dress, vote, decisions I make regarding my body or what I should or shouldn't do about my faith.  If you can present opinions to me in a calm, peaceful manner, of course I'll listen, but it seems people have lost track of how to do that.  Please fact-check what you read before you accept it as truth, no matter how much it coincides with your own personal views or how good it may sound.  I'm capable of gathering my own research in order to make an informed decision.  But for right now, let me just exercise my freedom of speech.  I understand I'm not the only one entitled to that, but damn, there's no need to be belligerent about your opinions.  I always thought I was a pretty judgmental person until I heard second-hand that one thing my sister in law loves about me is that I don't judge people.  I sat back and chewed on that for a bit, and determined, "You know what?  I think that's true.  Never once has someone confided in me and my response been judgmental."  When my friends come to me with dilemmas or confessions of any nature, I don't attack or berate them, I listen to the situation at hand and if they're asking for advice, I'll say my piece and do my best to help them either solve their problem in the most logical way possible, whether I personally agree or not, or just be a listening ear.  My famous line is "Who am I to judge?  Chances are I've said or done it, twice."  I look for the positives and point out the negatives in a constructive way.  You can ask them.  This is one of the reasons the pretentiousness of society makes me utterly sick.

I'm splitting this post into smaller, more digestible pieces because it became one long soap box opera and I do try to keep anyone bored enough to read my blog in mind.  I love you all.  So please read on to see if you have some common ground with me.  You may be surprised.

The Horrors of Mid Morning Rush Hour

My job entails me being on the road a lot, sometimes for the majority of my day.  Last week I put over 500 miles on my car.  I have to drive as far north as Albany, NY and as far south as Virginia at any given time.  The other day I was in Annapolis, MD, the day after that I was in Perth Amboy, NJ.  It gets annoying sometimes, waking up at ridiculous hours just to get in the car and drive.
What pisses me off is how people act on the road.  More and more it seems no one knows how to drive their fucking cars.  I'm not the best driver in the world but damn, at least I know basic highway etiquette.  And how to operate a motor vehicle.
I'd have to say my favorite thing is when I'm stuck in a flow of traffic and the driver in the car at the very front of the line is one of those people who have fallen into the habit of accelerating and decelerating.  It's the speed up - speed down game.  You know what I'm talking about.  It drives me fucking nuts.  I'm sorry, but if you want to waste your own gas I won't stop you.  Just don't cause me to waste mine.  Keep the needle of your speedometer at the speed limit or close to it and no one gets hurt.
I also think people who unnecessarily tap their brakes should be subjected to corporal punishment.  Again, I really can't afford to waste the gas in my tank when I'm paying almost $4 a gallon and filling up about 3 times a week.
We all know the left lane is for passing.  We're taught it driver's ed.  And once we hit that point in time where driver's ed was so long ago that we don't remember...anything...there are signs posted everywhere.  But when I am cruising at 83 miles an hour, in an attempt to pass a slower vehicle, please do not scream up to me and try to wedge your car into my trunk.  There's not enough room in it for you.  I'm going 83-fucking-miles an hour, have some Goddamn patience.  If you want to get pulled over by a Trooper on I-95, that's fine, but I really don't want to.  Give me less than a minute so I can signal and move back over into the right lane and resume a more comfortable 75 mph.  Thanks.  Again, every time my RPM needle is above 2, I can hear my car guzzling gas.
I try not to tailgate, but it's hard to resist when someone is cruising along in the passing lane doing the speed limit, sometimes even below it.  Get the fuck out of the passing lane if you're not using it to pass.  Dipshit.  Yes, I know I just contradicted myself, because I hate when people tailgate me.  Only when I'm driving like a bat out of hell already, doing 20 miles over the speed limit.  If you're doing 50 in a 65, then please have some courtesy and move over into the right lane.  Maybe put your flashers on.
Another thing I don't understand is the fact that traffic volume causes major backups.  The other day I was sitting on I-95 next to the Philadelphia Sports Complex because people were doing the brake-tapping routine and no one knows how to behave when there's road construction.  It happened again at the 95/476 split.  And again on 141 North.  There's a shit ton of construction going on people, get used to it.  I'm sure you make your commute every fucking day.  Learn the new traffic patterns, accept them, and move on.  We all know by now that the lanes on the Broad Street bridge split, as do the ones on 141.  If you don't need to exit, plan on moving into one of the left two lanes.  Preferably before the last minute.
Don't even get me started on motorist behavior when inclement weather is added to the mixing bowl of douchbaggery on the roads.  My  most recent experience with slick roads and drizzling rain caused me to be an hour late to work, therefore screwing my entire day.  One accident on 476 North had 95 backed up.  Making the not-so-smart decision to bypass 476 resulted in me crawling along 76 West for a half an hour.  Isn't there any other way to get to the Northeast Extension other than the Blue Route and/or cutting through Philadelphia?  I was ready to set my GPS on fire and watch it burn.  Believe me, I came up with about three different ideas for revamping the entire infrastructure of Philadelphia while sitting behind a Ford Explorer with  a sticker depicting Calvin peeing on the Eagles, Redskins and Cowboys on its back windshield.  They were a NY fan.  From Jersey.  And another sticker for some bait and tackle shop that said "Size Matters."  If you have to announce that, then you've probably got a small one.
I know it could be worse.  I heard LA is the number one town for traffic congestion and that commuters spend an average of 56 hours a year in their car.  I'd have to say New York is number two.  Then comes my area - I'm surrounded by Philly, New Jersey, Baltimore and Washington DC.  But I deal with it.  Typically I'm on the roads early enough to avoid all the traffic, but some days...I just want to scream.

As Of Late...

I haven't been posting a lot, mostly because work is kicking my ass.  But that's a good thing because it's keeping me super busy.  So is life in general and I don't want that to stop.  We all know an idle mind is the devil's playground.

Oh, I have to be in Seaford at 6 am?  No big deal, nothing is going to stop me from going to see The Dirty Pearls open for Bret Michaels at Moodswing on a Tuesday night.  So glad I went, because the boys were fantastic, performing songs from their new album Whether You Like It Or Not.  The place was packed with hair metal fans young and old sporting their delightfully trashy 80s gear.  My friend Jay pointed out that I was five years when he was going to see Poison live.

I think Tommy London likes me!

Tommy Mokas, lead guitarist from The Dirty Pearls.

We recently celebrated Ma's 56th birthday and let me tell you, cooking for twelve people takes some planning.  It was wonderful - my uncle Anthony and two of his kids were in town, Aunt Mare and Uncle Bob, Ma's best friend and her husband, my brother and his family, Ma and myself all enjoyed the three pounds of lobster macaroni and cheese I labored over.  Damn was it good.  I can chalk that dinner up to another culinary success.

My monthly free styling has dwindled because life has become nonstop go, go, go.  I'm going to make a conscious effort to remedy that though.  I read somewhere that if you want to be a writer, then write everyday.  It doesn't matter if it's two sentences or two hundred.  Now when something brilliant comes to me I'm typically cruising down the highway on my way to some town a hundred miles away.  The Notes app on my new iPhone is coming in handy.  Plus I've been splitting my time between home and Parkesburg and I don't always bring my laptop with me.
Now it's time to go get dressed, Jay and I are going to see Mr. Greengenes play up in Aston.  Apparently we've begun following them on the last leg of their career as one of the greatest local cover bands.  (Although I really wish I was in Chicago right now gearing up for The Last Vegas's album release party at the Double Door.  But I guess I can't do everything.)  *Kisses*

The Bar Scene, It Is A-changin'...

...at least the one in Wilmington.  Tyler, Andy, Geeta and myself all went out to dinner the other night - the first time the four of us have been together all summer - and then decided to head over to Trolley Square.
I don't frequent Trolley as often as I used to, mostly because the scene has changed over the years, for better and for worse.  It's still a good place to grab lunch or dinner because you have a plethora of dining establishments to chose from, and all of the ones I've eaten at - which is most - have some damn good food and nice atmospheres.  But the nightlife has become...different.
When I was in my early twenties my girls and I used to rule the dance floor downstairs at Kelly's Loganhouse and there were times you could catch decent bands in the bar upstairs, but over recent years management has changed hands.  The dance floor has more or less become nonexistent and the amount of concert series performed there has dwindled.  (If there is one, the advertising is so minimal you'd only discover it was going on if you happen to be there on a random night.)
Now one of the only places that has a DJ is Catherine Rooney's, on Saturdays.  And I can't stand it.  On a regular night it's a good place to hang and get some food, I believe Thursday night is still Martini Night.  But it gets so crowded on Saturday nights that it's damn near impossible to get a drink, much less maneuver through the crowd and make yourself a little room to dance.  There's also Club 3.  If you like house music.  And well, sometimes house music is hard to dance to.
I'm not even going to go into how much I hate the music the DJs play these days - I'm sitting here shaking my head.  What ever happened to R&B?  Jams you could dance to as opposed to what I could only describe as wannabe gangster rap with some jackass declaring "Yo that shit cray," and every where you look you'll inevitably see brand-new 21-year-olds humping each other like they're having awful, strange, awkward sex.
As far as the people go, maybe I just didn't notice them when I was younger.  Maybe I was one of them, I don't know.  Girls dressed to the nines in heels they can't walk in and more makeup than Motley Crue circa 1987.  Oh right, they're trying to get laid.  Yikes.  The guys aren't much better, walking around in matching neon polo shirts, trying to get laid.  Everyone has their cell phone in hand and acting like they're texting someone more interesting than the scene going on around them.  They probably are, because anything is more interesting than the scene in Trolley Square.
Damn I sound old.
Maybe I was the same way when I was younger.  Maybe I notice it more because I don't go out looking to get laid.  I can do that with one phone call, thanks.  Maybe it's because I just spent the majority of August reveling in the Dewey Beach bar scene, which, granted, is somewhat similiar but with a larger age range.  (I like my men a little older anyway.)  Maybe that's more tolerable because it's summer time and everyone is a little more laid back, the bars are bigger and if you don't feel like being stuck in a crowd you can relocate to a different one where you don't have to fight your way to the bar and struggle to get the bartender's attention.  And if you see a girl throwing up on a side street or a guy being carried by his friends you just shake your head and smile, "Uh-oh, looks like they couldn't hang in Dewey."  Maybe because down there you can find decent bands playing every weekend and it's hard to find a DJ spinning music that he's adding his own "style" to therefore you're just listening to a train wreck happen.
But I digress.  The caliber of people that you find in Trolley Square on a weekend night has changed drastically, and it's just not fun anymore.  It almost seems like everyone has a chip on their shoulder, or is desensitized, or just plain trying too damn hard.  Maybe it seems that way because I was for the most part sober the last time I was there.  Or maybe I'm the one who's desensitized.
Damn I really sound old.
Maybe I just prefer the beach scene, or the Philly scene.  Shit, even New York, although I don't get up there as often as I like.  I don't have a reason to wear my slutty rock & roll gear out  in Wilmington.  This town is too trendy for that.  Even my usual watering hole was a different crowd that night.  We barely recognized anyone in the place, which was odd for us.  What, I go away for a month and everything changes?

My Listless Autumns

I have a love/hate relationship with this time of year.  Autumn is hovering over us, ready to drop its windy, chilly days at any moment.  School's back in session, I find myself keeping a sweatshirt in my car in case of a "Holy shit I'm freezing!" emergency.  The days are still blisteringly hot but the humidity is gone and the nights are cool.

There's a short list of reasons why I enjoy this season.

1. Pockets.  During the summer I'm either in a bathing suit, a sundress, or just a pair of underwear and a tank top.  Not having pockets can be very inconvenient.
2. O.P.I.'s fall line of nail colors.  Chocolate browns, burnt oranges and rusty violets look so good on my nails.
3. I can get my cowboy boots out of the closet.  Those bad boys have been sleeping since April, maybe even March.
4. My leather jacket can come out of hibernation as well.
5. I'll fantasize about going to pumpkin and apple orchards and haunted houses with a boy.

Otherwise, this season brings a sense of melancholy upon me.  I'm a summer baby, through and through, born in August and I thrive in the heat.  I prefer no clothes over fuzzy sweaters and boots.  I'd rather sweat than freeze.  So here's the list of reasons why I hate this time of year.

1. Cold weather.
2. I cannot stand anything pumpkin or spice flavored, so when Starbucks comes out with their pumpkin lattes or whatever, you will not find me in line.  I don't even like what is considered "fall scents."  Kind of makes me want to barf.
3. The pool is closed.  Enough said.
4. I'm more susceptible to bouts of depression, due to the change in weather.  Cold, rainy days make me miserable and it's a lot easier for my mind to slip into that dark place.
5. Shorter days.  Most days I'm driving to and from work in the dark.
6. Snow is coming.  I don't care for it.  Don't like shoveling it, don't like driving in it.  Sure, it's pretty when it's falling, but within an hour it becomes gray sludge all along the roads.  Not to mention people freak out at the first sight of a snowflake and figure they have free reign to drive like assholes.
7. Soon it will be time to put up Christmas decorations.  I like Christmas and all, it's great, but when you have to drag bins upon bins of decorations, plus two trees, up from the basement, then are responsible for putting up those trees, I kind of want to rip my hair out.  You know that song The Twelve Pains of Christmas?  Yeah, that's like the story of my life.
8. Did I mention how much I hate cold weather?

So yeah, I'm usually pretty melancholy this time of year.  We all feel it, we know that the time is coming where we'll be cooped up for the next few months, closing up our homes and our hearts against the cold of winter.  The only thing for me to do is hunker down and pray for spring time.

Friends With Benefits: A Love Story, Continued

So my little story has seemingly turned into a saga.  Not much has changed over the last month or so, aside from the fact that we're talking a little more openly about relationships, specifically ours, hypothetically what it would be like if we became exclusive.  What bewilders me about it all is that I have not, for one second, over analyzed anything about it.  I haven't driven myself crazy going over every little detail of our relationship like I've done with past ones, and it still continues to be...easy.  I hope it will stay that way.

One important detail of our relationship is that we live about a half an hour away from each other.  It may not seem like much, it's an easy drive and I love the little town he lives in, but it can be an obstacle at times.  My job entails my driving several miles a week, so the fact that we're spending more time together could prove to be a strain on me mostly, because I usually go to him.  So far it hasn't been a problem.
I went up there to be with the other night, because he told me he wanted me there.  He's going through a rough time and yesterday he signed away his house.  The one he bought with his ex.  He told me last week that it was happening and that he would really appreciate it if I came up and spent that particular night with him.  At the time, my schedule had me working in Douglassville the next day, so staying with him would have benefited in two ways - I would have been there for him and cut a half an hour off of my drive to work.
My schedule was changed at the last minute and I was put on a job down in Dover.  Instead of telling him that I couldn't stay because it would have added a half an hour to my drive to work, I went up there.  I knew he needed me.  And he was incredibly appreciative.  I knew how much it meant to him to have me there.
As we were curled up on the couch, he started talking.  About us.  I'm having a hard time remembering exactly what he said, because he was stumbling over his words.
"I knew exactly what I wanted to say earlier, and it made absolute sense when I went over it in my head, but now I can't figure out how the hell to say it."
I just sat and listened, being patient in the hopes that he'd come out and spill it.  What I ended up with was something along the lines of -
"You came up here to be with me tonight because I needed you to, and you're not my girlfriend.  That, to me, means more than it would have if you were my girlfriend.  That's something I don't want to lose if we were to be together, all the bullshit I'm going through that's preventing me from being emotionally available aside.  If you were my girlfriend, you'd be here, no question."
I turned this over in my head, trying to make some sense of it.
"You're saying it'd be a given that I'd be here, there, wherever, at all times because I'd be obligated to."
"Yes...no...kind of?  I think I'm confusing myself."
I've never had this kind of relationship before, where we talk about this stuff, not even to resolve anything, and then gone to sleep in his arms the very same night with no awkwardness between us.
(Did I mention how good the sex is?)
It's not even like I have the constant nagging feeling that this could end at any moment, because, oddly enough, I don't.  He doesn't do anything that aggravates the shit out of me, that hurts me, that tears me down or emotionally damages me.  He never has.
So what am I feeling right now?
I honestly don't fucking know.  And I'm okay with that.

September Free Styling, #4

Change the colors of
my nail polishes
orange brown purple red
Driving behind the
yellow school buses
Cornfields are dying
Soon it will be time
for pumpkin picking
Running screaming blind
through haunted houses
Hold me tight so I
won't be scared to death.

September Free Styling, #3

The mornings have turned
chilly waking up
to goosebumps so soon
getting out of bed
can be unpleasant
On the sunny days
sky is crystal blue
instead of hazy
But it is now time
to put away the
flipflops bathing suits
short shorts and tank tops

Friends With Benefits - A Love Story

I've got a very close friend who's been around for about four years now and we've been spending a lot more time together over the past several months.  It started out strictly as a use-and-be-used kind of arrangement, but it's no longer like that.   We have what one could easily call the perfect Friends With Benefits relationship.  Not only do we have mind-bowing sex, we care about each other and we do things together.  We go out to eat, to clubs and bars, we do weekends at the beach, we talk at least once a day, watch movies or TV together, he'll come swimming if he has the day off.  We feel safe emotionally with each other.  Most FWB relationships I've had dwindled solely to "benefits," minus a friendship.  This guy and I have a pretty good - excellent in fact - idea of how our chemistry works, physically and emotionally.  We've been sleeping together for so long that almost nothing is off-limits.
One of the extra benefits of our relationship is that we can be completely open and honest with each other without fear of judgement or hurtful criticism.  I know he still has hang ups about his ex, and he knows just about the entire Buzzard saga.
I stay at his house now whenever I have work in the area.  He bought me a box of Splenda for my coffee and a glass jar to keep it in, I now have a toothbrush and washcloth there and his dog is accustomed to me being around.  I also stay over at least one night during the weekend and we go out or stay in and watch a movie.  Did I mention how good the sex is?  There's something about it that just...works.  I know what drives him crazy and he knows just what buttons to push to send me over the edge.
We're in a relationship but we're not.  I've decided to not over analyze anything, because there's no need to. If I need to know something I can always ask him, and sometimes I don't even have to do that.
The other night I received this text -
"Hey I just wanted to tell you that I really do like when you stay over with me.  It may be a little selfish of me, but when you're here you take away some of the loneliness that I feel.  I'm sorry I'm so...detached.  I am trying to get through it though.  Thank you :) Xoxo"
So I responded -
"You don't have to apologize to me, I know you're trying to get through it so that's why I'm not on your ass about it.  I feel the same way about the loneliness too, so don't think you're being selfish.  It's fun when we play house."
Him -
"I just want you to feel comfortable when you're here.  Thank you.  I like that you're able to sit and do your thing while I do mine.  It's a simple thing I know but it's still pretty cool."
Me -
"I do, believe me.  That day you told me that when I'm around you feel like you can relax, it made me feel good.  That's something I want people I care about to always feel when they're with me."
The talk then shifted to my work schedule for the upcoming week and of course, sex.  But seriously, how awesome is it that we have this kind of relationship?  Have you ever been lucky enough to have something like this?  Do you know anyone who does?
Whether or not I'm a part of his distant future and/or he's a part of mine is a moot point.  Same with whether or not he starts seeing someone or I do.  We don't worry about it.  We've been through all of that before and still came out unscathed.
Really, it's a beautiful thing.  I'm thinking about asking him to collaborate with me on a future post - How To Achieve an Easy, Uncomplicated, No-Strings-Attached Relationship (And No One Gets Hurt.)  Or something like that.  So keep an eye out for it, because if you come to a point in your life where you decide you have had enough drama and just want to enjoy the company of someone who doesn't give you any bullshit, but gives you incredible orgasms, then it might be worth reading.

Labor Day Weekend - Drunk and Bittersweet

It was a weekend spent rallying one last time before the cold weather sets in and the bathing suits get packed away with the winter clothes.

"Hey, I'm star-6-9-ing my buzz.  You know, the one I've had since June."

"Yeah, I really need to star-6-9 my tan before summer is officially over."

"If you see him tonight are you going to suggest star-6-9-ing what you guys did last night?"

My brother called me while I was still working Friday afternoon to announce that he was going to Dewey for the night after the fucked up week he had at work and I was thrilled.  We hadn't been in Dewey together since my nephew was born, maybe even before that.
We partied hard Friday night with our uncle and various other friends and relatives we ran into along our travels up and down Route 1 - Starboard, Lighthouse, Northbeach...eventually ending up at McShea's for last call and of course getting a pizza from Grotto's on our way back to the house.

"Dane, you sleep like you're dead.  I almost put my finger under your nose to make sure you were still breathing."

The weather, along with my hangover, Saturday wasn't exactly cooperative; the sun didn't come out until around 3 pm and by then my headache was finally starting to fade.  I spent some time on the beach in solitude, reading and reveling in the feeling of sand between my toes.
Saturday night was spent with a bunch of the Weekenders, and I ended up going home with someone completely unexpected.  Nothing like doing your first legitimate walk of shame on the last Sunday morning of the summer.  I tried to be slick and take the back way home, through the alley behind the Bottle & Cork, down back streets through the clusters of beach condos and driveways,  avoiding Route 1 and figuring no one I knew would see me.  I was quite mistaken.
"Helloooo...hey!  Girl in the green!"
I looked up to see one of my aunt and uncle's good friends, a guy who has also known me for over 10 years, and known the guy I went home with for probably over 30, standing on the balcony of one of the beach condos.  Busted.  He's grinning and asking me where I'm coming from.  I mentally ran through the list of people who could have seen me leave with said cause of my little shame-walk and decided he wasn't among them, so I lied through my teeth.  I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.
My dearest friend came down that day, someone else I haven't been in Dewey with in a very long time, and we spent the day on the beach reminiscing about old times - baby sitting my younger cousins and my aunt and uncle teaching us most of what we know today.  We did two happy hours, one at Northbeach and then of course headed over to the Bottle & Cork for the last Jam Session of the year.  I believe we had dinner and then cleaned ourselves up to go back out and do it all over again that night.

This girl has been my lifeline.  Plus, she knows too much.

Dewey Beach is nonstop.  You can either hang tough or go home.  I love it, but there's a reason I only do weekends in the summer.  It's best to take it in small doses, otherwise I think my liver would just quit on me. So now summer is over, everyone has gone back home and all we can do is look forward to next year.

The blue moon, the Starboard shark, and myself.  Life couldn't get any better.

Go Ahead, Make A Bad Decision

One of my favorite bands, The Last Vegas, released a new album on August 28th.  For a good dose of sleaze rock, my suggestion is buy it.  It's available on Amazon and for download from iTunes.  

I've kept close tabs on this band since 2009, when I saw them open for Motley Crue on the Saints of Los Angeles tour, and have even been lucky enough to hang out with them a few times.  All I can say is theirs is the kind of rock & roll this world needs more of.  They offer up a heavy combination of glam, sleaze and metal, along with a stage presence that oozes sex.  While you can pick up on their old-school rock influences, the music is a breath of fresh air compared to today's mainstream garbage that is over processed,  over tweaked and over auto-tuned to the point where it can hardly be defined as music by the time it hits the listeners' ears.  The Last Vegas knows what true rock is all about and have a damn good time spreading the word.

The boys at Rebel Rock Bar in Philly, August 24th, 2012.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                 So while you're having fun making a few Bad Decisions, I highly suggest picking up...whatever else you can get your hands on by this smokin' hot band, most of which is available on iTunes.  You won't be disappointed, I promise.

Follow The Last Vegas on Twitter here.
Like them on Facebook here.

September Free Styling, #2

Contemplating my money situation
Pitiful yet again
Living like a fucking rockstar
with four dollars in my pocket
I'm told everything
comes full circle
But I'm getting sick of this
emotional un-availability bullshit
I hear rain on the roof outside
and my car windows are down
I'll put them up when I
finish this cigarette
Exhausted but it's okay
to be content
Spiderwebs and Kona coffee
Leopard print fingernails
and nonstop camera flashes
Summertime is winding down.

Motorcycle rides
through Lancaster County
Around the bends he puts
his hand on my leg
and I know I am safe
Late August and the days
are getting shorter
The moon is getting fuller
It's back to the grind now.