When Life Throws You Lemons...(Imported Blog)

gay adj. the status of almost every boy I know.

Well, not every boy I know is gay, but sometimes it sure feels like it. The chances of me hooking up with any of my guy friends are almost zero to none, since radical lifestyle switches would be involved. And a night out with the boys for me may involve a bar and boobs, but the boobs are mine and the theme night at the bar is "Showtunes Night". There is nothing better than drinking froo-froo (pink lemonades or long island iced teas) drinks, and seeing guys sing along to the likes of "All that Jazz" and "Seasons of Love".

And yes, I should be starving for male attention, but see, closeted gay guys were the original metrosexuals, long before that term existed; so I always get to go out with the best looking boys. And gay guys love me - I don't know what it is - but I am like honey to a homo. Within ten minutes, I can get any man who is gay to say that he loves me (if only it worked as well on straight men). Maybe it is my easy charm, or, as one friend likes to say (and yes, he is gay), my huge knockers, but I can leave any room with four new guy friends who can all teach me the finer points of seducing and satisfying any man.

What do I get out of this? The easy friendship of guys, the ability to be myself, the comfort of talking about porn and sex and male nudity in an open, honest, frank kind of manner. And it is made me a better girlfriend for it. Apparently, straight boys think it's hot when a girl likes to watch porn or talks about sex. It evens out the playing field a bit, from my understanding of things. Even more so, they figure if you know gay guys, you must know some gay girls, and well, that is just a short leap to every male fantasy....

So while I may not have the luxury of having my best friend become my husband or significant other in any way, I do have the benefit of my best friend having his own guide to getting it on (and sharing some fun tips so we can compare notes).

State of Flux

This is not what I want, but more and more I am coming to the conclusion that this is what I need. So how to go about making what I am thinking about, what I may have finally sorted out, a reality?

The Other Woman

I know I am intimidating. I know that I come across as brash, unpretentious, often uncouth, and sometimes uncivil. I am the kind of person who has learned to be tactful, but still manages to be truthful. I dress provocatively, because I love who I am and all the things my body can do. I am unapologetic about my past and any actions in them, and I am open about things; my policy is that you need only ask, and I will tell. And I know that all this scares some people but I find this to be so at odds with who I am. For all that I am, I feel the real me lies somewhere between jester and joker; more fool than femme fatale. Which is why it amuses and saddens me that I am so often in the same situation....

I seem to inevitably make better friends with most guys than with most girls. Perhaps it is because I have a bit more in common with the average guy than your average girl. Take me to the cinema and I am in line for the latest action blockbuster; I unabashedly say that porn is exactly why the internet was invented and can list you off at least ten sites to find your jollies at; and I love - genuinely love - sport - no watching American Football just because the quarterback is cute. But just because I like being friends with guys, does not mean I want to be their girlfriends. I can count the guys on one hand that I have ever wanted more than a casual flirtation with but somehow, for most girls, this is not enough reassurance.

And so the inevitable happens. The friends that I love to spend time with, the ones I get on best with, get girlfriends, fall in love, and we fall apart. Well, not so much fall, as drift. I tend to do the drifting, so this is not all about a guyfriend or his girlfriend, mainly because I know how hard it is to be in a relationship, especially at the start. And I know how hard it is to have so many competing things in your life. I try not to be one more competing thing in an overwhelmed schedule; I think every relationship deserves that chance. Guys are not the only ones who disappear though; I have seen most of my girlfriends fall off the planet of the earth in terms of making time for me when a new relationship is on the horizon but in the end, they come back. Sadly, most of the guyfriends don't. And I chalk it up to being labeled 'the other woman'.

Case in point: I went on a number of dates with someone years ago. He was a great guy, but we never clicked. He had issues, and his issues weren't so compatible with my issues. In fact, we never even kissed despite going on more than three dates, one which included meeting his mother (read: ISSUES). Yet, for all intents and purposes, we got along great and we both had crazy schedules that just meshed well. When the rest of the world was asleep, we were awake and normally out having breakfast at a seedy diner and talking about life, love and the general pursuit of that elusive bubble called happiness.

Things were good. Until he met and started dating someone he liked. I was there at the beginning, when she was one among many; I was there to talk him through it, to help him decide, and even thought she was the one he should choose. I even made sure to always include her in any plans we had, and harped on getting the chance to meet her. And I did, once, at a halloween party I threw. Yes, that one. And you would think, that would make someone even less threatened by me. Inappropriate behaviour? Check. No interest in the straight boys? Check. Pissed out of her mind? Check. Not exactly an attractive picture

But instead, she grew even more anxious about our time together. And then came the fateful day when I was no longer 'Marisa' but 'her'. Ever known anyone whose name you just can't bring yourself to say? Exactly. We all know what it means when your very existence can be summed up by a pronoun. That person loathes the very ground you stand upon. And I backed off. I stopped trying to initiate time out together and suddenly got very busy most of the time. Yes, my guyfriend still tried. He made time for me, and worked with my schedule. And then came the even more fateful night when hanging out at his place, playing games on the Xbox, and eating chicken wings and fries, she called to say goodnight. And as I went to ask him a question, I got shushed. Uh huh. He was not telling her that I was hanging out at his place. In fact, I am pretty sure he was not telling her that he even still knew me. Not surprisingly, we never hung out again.

But it still makes me sad, this far down the line, that I don't have this person in my life. Who knows; we might have ended up hating each other by now, but I liked talking to him. I liked learning all about him and all the things he knew that I did not. His experiences had been so vastly different from mine; and I liked arguing about the most esoteric of topics; sometimes, I liked just sitting quietly with him, saying nothing, and listening to him strum his guitar. But all those things I liked in him as a friend were lost the minute some girl decided that because I had tits and no dick, I was a force to be reckoned with and controlled.

And I know it will happen again. It happens without fail at least once a year. No wonder I have to replenish my stock of guys friends so often. And while it may be fun to get out there and find someone new to click with, it also means that those people who have come to know me best are suddenly lost to me. And I am stuck trying to find someone to replace something that took months, even years to build. And I am always glad for the friends I have now, the ones who are single or even better, have girlfriends who see me as the non-threat I am. Think about it: I knew him before they did and still did not want to get down and dirty with him. The way I think of it is that if I wanted him, I could have had him. And I did not do anything about it. So relegate me to the drawer of nonthreatening items, and a possible best friend. Because who knows your boy better than the girl he can act like an ass around?

Bar-Fly (Imported Blog)

bar-fly n. or adj. when you just have a way with anyone who works in a bar; whether it is the bouncer, the dj, or - most importantly - the bartender.

First off, let's be clear: I do not intentionally go to bars expecting to be a bar-fly; nor am I the type of girl you would expect to be a bar-fly. Yet for all intents and purposes, my friends know me to be one of the best bar-flys around. My talents are lengendary and my methods border on sheer chutzpah and madness, but somehow I always leave any bar I have ever gone to knowing at least one of the guys working there.

Let's use last wednesday as an instance of my bar-flyness. I decided to head to a laid back bar that I had been to before and enjoyed, invited some friends along, and made it a last hurrah for the holiday season since I was flying out the next day. I was the first at the bar; made myself comfy in the back room, went to the bar to get a drink, and realized that I had met the bartender the last time I was there. Hmmm, now the story gets a little convoluted unless I go back to the first time I was ever at the bar, so....

The first time I was at bar K (a psuedoname for the place), I had called before going over to inquire about the specials that night. The bartender, M, answered and after answering my queries, was intrigued to know my name and asked me to introduce myself if I showed up that night. I showed up, I met him, he gave me free shots and hooked me up with other drinks, and I had a good time. Nor did this require me getting into any type of compromising situations. Now, we can move back to last wednesday.....

Well, went up to the bar, ordered a brew, then asked the bartender if he was M, right? He looked a little puzzled until I said "I am not sure if you remember me, but we met the last time I was here. I had called on the phone first....(voice trailing off)". Oh, yeah, he remembered. From that moment on, my night was spent being called "sweetheart", "honey", and "babes" everytime I went to order a drink, and I had quite a lot of fun. After that, I also got to know the dj as well since I was experiencing a dancing vibe and wanted some OutKast really, really bad. (just jonesing for some Andre 3000)!

By the end of the night, M was actually sad to see me go (which is kinda cute) and I know I will be a regular at that bar. Hmm, other bar-fly incidents have involved: me meeting a manager at two a.m. who then proceeded to sing his alma mater's fight song to me because our colleges were huge football rivals; me getting to know an Irish bouncer (with the hottest accent) while my friend was busy hooking it up with some random guy; and having a dj announce to a crowded bar that yes, he was single, and no, he was not gay though some people had recently asked (pointed stare in my direction - good thing we could both laugh about it later).

Some tips if you want to be bar-fly too:
- start off right by tipping well and often (it makes you more memorable)
- go frequently to the bar (or dj or whatever); i.e. go order your friend's drinks as well or ask the dj what he normally spins and if he plans to play a few songs you wanna hear
- start a conversation (it really isn't hard: ask the bartender if he gets hit on alot and move from there; tell the dj you love what he is playing but could he throw in a little [insert fav band here])
- do something memorable - whether it involves making a bar-flyesque fool of yourself or not
- most importantly, just be yourself and be glad you are getting to know one more person in the world (ok, so getting to know that one person may have benefits, but hey, that is not why you decided to be a bar-fly kinda girl or guy

Lost In Translation

Before going anywhere with this, let me reiterate one more time: I am not American. I have never been, and the way things are going, never will be. But that does not stop the accent from dominating my everyday speech, considering I have lived there for over a third of my life and had to adopt their phrases and syntax in order to not be ridiculed.

And now I live in England, and once again, I find myself being ridiculed for my choice of words. Even more tellingly, a life time spent hoping from one English speaking country to another (with a dash of Little Havana, i.e. Miami) thrown in and my accent tends to wander as much as my own life has meandered. I would not exactly call it a talent, since there are so many other, better talents I can lay claim to, but I do have the ability to switch accents mid-sentence and most of the time, without even thinking about it.

And when I say I am being ridiculed, I do mean in a good humoured sort of way. My friends seem to be entranced by the fact that it is confusing to listen to me. I can start out with a fine, ol’ American sounding accent and suddenly dip into a posh version of English only to perhaps pronounce one word out of the whole lot with a Canadian/Scottish/Irish/Southern sounding sort of voice. Trust me, I am really not trying. It just happens and seems to confuse the best of friends most of the time.

This is why I think my friends are glad that I drink; and I do drink often. Because not only am I a riot and a half when sober; when drunk, any inhibitions (i.e. the very few that I actually have) seem to fly out the door, along with the accent. I am suddenly, for all intents and purposes, one very pissed Brit with a smattering of catchphrases that are either very Yankee doodle dandy or else Briticisms that went out with the last century (I have said ‘smashing’ without a hint of sarcasm while drunk).

Social Insects (Imported Blog)

flutterbutter n. a social creature that has the attention span of a gnat; constantly seen flitting from group to group, person to person, or topic to topic.

Speaking of nickames given to us by friends or ourselves, this one comes from a good friend of mine who decided that this would be the perfect word to describe me. As she likes to say, "fly, fly, fly away, flutterbutter" (and yes, she actually does say that; and yes, it actually sounds kinda sing-songy; and yes, it is funny, amusing, but sometimes kind of weird).

I am not saying that I never pay attention; I am just saying that you put me in a social situation (say a party or school), and I suddenly can't focus long enough to have a one track mind. At my old university, getting to class became a thirty minute ordeal by my junior year. A mixture of social gregariousness and a smallish college meant that a five minute trek from one end of campus to the other (told you it was smallish) became longer, especially if timed right (i.e. when everyone else was getting out of - or going to - class).

What could take so long, you say? Well, I never can just say hello when I see someone I know. Normally, my greetings involve hugs and a little information gathering ("hey, how's it been?"), and that can propel you into conversations ranging from a minute minute (think about it) to - well, a missed class. And part of the habits of the flutterbutter is the inability to constrain those types of social inclinations.

But of course, things are different at my new school. While I may be a grad student, and potentially older and wiser, I still do the flutterbutter thing. I seem to be one of the few people who can make friends outside of their division, and I still manage to come in and tell wild tales (yes, alcohol is often involved, but that is just social lubricant for a flutterbutter: always good, but not required!). People say that if you barely listen on a noisy day, you can hear my laughter echoing through the halls.

How to tell if you are a flutterbutter too:- does it seem like you know alot of people, but none of them really well?
- do you have a hard time remembering the last complete conversation you had?
- are large groups a challenge because it means more opportunites to be distracted?
- do you have a winsome way with service providers (bartenders, cab drivers, waiters, whatever)?
- do you play hostess at many parties, even ones that are not you own?

If you answered yes to two or more of these questions, you too may be a flutterbutter. I would suggest starting a support group, but - oh, bright shiny object

Confessions Part III

This is a continuation of the random stream of mind that I started last night (well, technically this morning very very early). I think my mind is just keeping time with the pain I am feeling - a sort of dull, aching throb really. Makes me ponder....

I find that I am made of secrets. I have accumulated so many things that I can not or will not share with others. There are secrets I do not share because of how they make me feel, there are secrets I do not share because I think few people will truly understand, and there are those secrets that are not secrets as such, I just need someone to more pointedly ask me before I tell all. Or even a little. And I can't remember when or why I became this repository of my life. I used to marvel at how much more open I had become, having moved here and needing to make friends again. I was letting people in to my life and telling them things that I would never have shared before. But I find that my circle has closed - perhaps in the way it is meant to be - and there are only a few people I can say truly know me well. And I love them for knowing me, even if I don't know them. But there are so many times I have been talking to others, willing them to ask the right question, wanting to confess, wanting to have a serious conversation where I get to lay all (or at least most ) of my cards out on the table, and I can't get there. I seem to draw back my hand and throw in my hand right when I reach the opportunity. Maybe I am afraid that my secrets are secrets for good reason. That what I keep hidden should be kept hidden to not alter the balance and design somehow.

I find myself with more stories. I always do things, I always have wild adventures, and I have always had stories (everyone knows the Halloween incident) but I find I am all stories now. I can't speak without talking about incidents, fleeting moments in my life, instead of the things that matter - how I feel, how I felt - and I find that everyone thinks they know me, that I am everyone's intimate acquittance, until it gets pointed out to them that they know me naught. That in fact, I am still this unknown enigma and to know me, to understand me, is to ask me to go beyond the stories, to pierce the veil, and start to infer what is meant, instead of listening to what is said.

My persona is my mask. This brash, young thing with a wild streak and a flirtatious side? Nothing more than pretend. People make of me what they will - they think I truly am the person I claim to be. And perhaps a part of me is. But there is another part that does not want what I seem to want. There is a side of me that keeps me in check, that pulls me back, that makes me flirt and then holds back the ultimate prize. Because in the end, I am searching for something I can not find in any place that I am looking. I am searching for something I had and lost, but wondering if I am still holding on to without realizing. I don't do guilt or regret but I do know that there is a brink I am standing close to an edge and this part of me prevents me from tottering over and making the most of the part I play

With Each New Day...

This is a strange sort of note. I am not even sure what I want to write about but my mind is thinking over so many things, and my body aches. Well, at least my leg does and so prevents me from falling asleep right now. Perhaps if I get all these random thoughts out of my head, I can find some rest. Or perhaps saying something aloud - saying it outright - will only possibly lead to further thoughts that hinder my chance of a peaceful night's rest. But I shall purge my mind, enter my confessional, and come of this what may...

I think, generally, that I am a happy person and yet I seem to sometimes have these moods that come from nowhere. I don't know where and why they arise, but they are so unpredictable and I always feel as though I am adrift and separate whenever they do. It is hard to understand how hard it sometimes is to just be friendly to people I can natter away a mile a minute with normally when these moods descend and often times, I find myself out and about, unable to really be the social, gregarious creature I am known for and I feel as though I am pushing away those who do not understand. People who may take things to heart or feel like it is something personal, something specific, when this feeling is more pervasive than that and all encompassing.

I sometimes sit back and look at my life and wonder where I am heading. This is not where I thought I would be and most of the time, this person is not the person I thought I would have become. I know that nothing can be predicted and nothing is certain, but there are so many things I do not feel reflect the person I have always been. I am comfortable with myself most days, but at the same time, I find that I am not sure what to make of myself yet. Am I happy with the person I have become or are there things I would change? Should I just accept the things I do and say as being a part of myself, the person I am and possibly will remain, or should I actively seek to change? To either fall back into the person I was, the person I pretended to be, or the person I always thought I wanted to be, whether any of these people in the end are a true reflection of myself and my life, and whether I can ever feel completely comfortable within my own skin.

I keep realizing that there is nothing linear in this life. Attraction, loss, friendship - everything that is important, that is far reaching is never linear. I sometimes long for a little bit of relief, really; I sometimes sit back and think if only I could predict that every single day, things will get a little bit better and I will move a little closer to feeling free. To feeling as though everything I need to has been left behind...but, no, that would be simple. And I guess in this life, things are not meant to be simple. Instead, I sometimes wonder. I sometimes think that I am so far away from what I truly want and other times, I feel as though what I long for is attainable. But then I feel it slipping, I feel myself doing things, acting ways that are unfathomable. I feel time slip forward and fly past, I feel memories rush in to tame the present and know I am inadvertently flowing fast into the future. Perhaps this is what it is because this is how it should be. Though I hate to think that; I hate to think that sometimes years from now, I will still feel as though nothing in my life is linear. That years from now, I could feel and think the same, for even a moment, and to wonder. Because the wondering, the thoughts, the longing, that is what comes unbidden and brings everything back to a place I no longer care to dwell

Health 'Care'?

If you've been following the status updates, then you know I have spent a very long and frustrating day dealing with the English Health Care system (or NHS for those in the know).....Here is a synopsis of why: I have noticed that my bed has a coil that pokes through sometimes and have been meaning to deal with it, but I have been a busy monkeh. So, last night, I hit the coil in just the wrong way to make it poke through and gouge a path right under my left knee. It hurt but did not realize how bad it was until I saw the blood soaked sheets.

Got up, dealt with the cut and put a bandage on only to see it was still bleeding five hours later. Which meant going to see a doctor which meant walk in centre since my doctor is always busy. Went to the walk in centre, waited an hour and a half to see a nurse who tried to use steri-strips and finally figured that it would not work to close the wound. So then she said I needed to get stitches. Which meant trying to figure out where. Called NHS Direct, got sent to the nearest A&E, and then spent four hours waiting to be seen only to be told that it was too long since I had gotten the wound, could not get stitches, and now would take twice as long to heal :-(

Here is my rant: I am one of those lucky people who gets sick in a dramatic way. No half assed sniffles for me. If I get sick, I get really sick. Which means I have had my share of ER (or A&E) visits over the years. I have ended up there for breathing difficulties at least twice, holidays are a favourite time of mine for ending up with ear infection (which actually took a month to clear after I ruptured it by flying and required the last line antibiotics - see, sick in a BIG way!) and blood clots. I have ended up in the ER for my mom when I could hardly walk and now, today's little episode.

And perhaps reassuringly, health care is the same all over the world, whether it is public or private funding. I always seem to spend hours on end waiting for something to happen, and that something always takes less than ten minutes. So useful.... I especially love the fact that the tun changes as you hop from one health care worker to another. Is it any wonder that I have yet to take a 'normal' blood pressure reading? I am always in a state of stress when I am seeing doctors because of the waiting and the conflicting information and what not.

I really just need to vent because I feel like I have wasted my entire day running around, trying to sort this whole situation out, and not really getting anywhere. And now, I am sitting here, in a little pain, dreading limping to the kitchen or bathroom, and sleeping on my couch for obvious reasons....I am so not a happy bunneh and just wanted to share with those I love..