Give the People What They Want

So, there is this woman who has been coming to my restaurant for years now. In that time she has grown. Not as an artist. Not spiritually. No, she has grown horizontally...and I feel like it's kind of my fault.

When I was a bartender I was required to complete a training program designed to keep me from letting the customers get too f'ed-up. Knowing when to cut them off was what the training was all about. Now, I can't say that I ever utilized this training...okay, I used it on David Hasselhoff (by avoiding him and pretending to forget that he had ordered), but other than that, I was never given authorization by my bar manager to tell anyone they had had enough. And there were plenty who had.

Now that I'm slangin' food instead of booze, I'm wondering where the training to cut people off is. Living in the US during this obesity epidemic and serving up pizzas and fries is kind of getting to me.

Back to this poor woman. She comes in several times a week and orders either a pizza and a pasta and a diet coke. Then, she makes me refill her diet coke at least 10 times, PLUS she makes me give her one to go. Now, I'm no doctor, but I know that a twelver of diet coke a couple days a week isn't doing this woman any favors. And it certainly isn't keeping her from getting larger and larger.

With each refill I feel more and more guilty. I desperately want to cut her off. I imagine how her heart rate must increase. I imagine little synapses firing off in her brain, I imagine her liver going into over drive and damn it...I want it to STOP! I want to save her. I look at this as a form of slow suicide and I'M THE ONE letting her do this to herself. I see it going down. I'm putting the weapon into her hand and I'm accepting money while I do it. It's terrible. But, she is free to do whatever she wants and I have no right to tell her my opinion or to halt her actions in anyway. In essence, I'm a drug dealer and the drugs that I am selling are sugar and fat. And I make a pretty decent living at it.

There was this other guy who used to come in all of the time and he was VERY VERY VERY large. His t-shirt couldn't even cover his entire belly. He looked like a deranged Baby Huey, and he pretty much acted like one too. I'm fairly certain that this man was "slow" and he hardly ever spoke except to make his order which would usually go as follows:

"I'll start with a Root Beer Float, then I will have a Caesar Salad with extra dressing, the Pork Porterhouse, and a Peach Cobbler."

Now, this man didn't need any of those items. Maybe the salad sans dressing, but what could I do but smile and say, "Okay!"? This man was also a smoker. Each time he would order I would have one of those Ally McBeal moments where I pictured his heart exploding all over the restaurant. My manager once joked that if this man went down, I was the one who was going to have to give him mouth to mouth since I was so concerned. All I can say is, I'm really glad it never came to that. I'm not sure I would have been up for that. It's my job to be nice. It's my job to pretend like all is right in the world, when clearly it is not. My theory with this man was that he was going to kill himself "Leaving Las Vegas Style", but instead of drinking himself to death, he was gonna eat himself to death.

I haven't seen him in a while.

I'm wondering if he succeeded.

What is worse that these adults poisoning themselves and being as gluttonous as possible is the parents who feed their children nothing but crap. I cringe every time I have to bring a Shirley Temple to a three year old. That is the equivalent of handing a crack-pipe to an adult. And yet I do it. I have to. They make me.

There are even those families that severely cross the line and let their small children order Coke, Iced Tea, and even DIET COKE! Number one, they are all loaded with sugar (or chemicals), and number two, they are all loaded with CAFFEINE! I mean, people....one of those products is called COKE! HELLO?!?!?!?!?!? In this day and age we cannot plead ignorance on these things. These parents MUST know that they are drugging their children. And yet, they carry-on and wonder why 10 years later they are abusing alcohol in high school or go on to become meth addicts or cocaine freaks. It's the same thing no matter how you slice it.

It kills me.

I want so badly to implement rules that say that we will not serve these beverages to children, but it's not my place. I guess it's nobodies place. Better yet, if we were to just not serve those items at all, but alas, not my call.

I'm a drug-dealer for better or for worse, and yes, I sell to children. I don't want to, but I do it. Am I a bad person? I dunno. If you aren't a part of the solution, then you are part of the problem.

All I can do at this point is smile and nod and make my living and work very hard to get myself into a place where I don't have to do this anymore. And of course, with the adults in question, that's their call. I don't feel as bad for them because that's their choice. I don't always put the most healthy things into my body, but EVERYTHING IN MODERATION seems to be a good rule of thumb and I try to stick to that as much as possible.

When I have kids though, mine are going to be different. There will be no sugar on my watch. And yes, they will probably hate me for it, but that's fine with me. Those little people don't have the capacity to make tough decisions until they are much older and it will be my job as a parent to decide what's best for them.

Until then, I'm your pusher:)

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

Who knew this was going to turn out to be a baby-crazed blog? Babies are all up in my grill lately and although I'm lovin' it, it's still a tiny bit of a slap in the face.

This weekend I was invited to the birthday of a one year old. Then, later that day, I visited with an out of town friend who has a brand new baby. Yesterday I was innocently sitting in yoga class waiting for it to begin and in walks a friend of mine sporting a surprise bump. And last weekend was dedicated completely to my nephew who is, what else?...a baby!

I enjoy them. The babies. I've said it before. I love to be around them and they are just so freakin' cute that I can't get enough. But at the same time, it's just another big reminder of everything that I don't have and well, what can I say? It hurts.

Cause not only do I not have a baby now, but I'm not even pregnant, and not only am I not even pregnant, but I'm not even having sex, and not only am I not even having sex, but I'm not even married, and not only am I not even married, but I'm not even engaged and not only am I not even engaged, but I'm not even in a relationship, and not only am I not even in a relationship, but I'm not even seeing anyone...or dating...or crushing. It's dismal.

I begged my girlfriend who was visiting from out of town to just give me her new baby. I mean, it's her third! What the hell does she need three for? And I've known her since I was four years old. She's my oldest friend and I really think she could work on her sharing skills, cause if you ask me, that's just dang selfish.

At thirty-five I am now at the cut-off for high risk pregnancy. So by the time I actually do get pregnant, there's a chance the kid might have downs or something cause I'm so old. I don't feel old. I don't look old. But according to Mother Nature, I'm old. And it's risky for me to procreate now.

I'm wondering if this sad turn of events (my life) is due to the fact that I wrote up a living will/contract in my early twenties saying some bullshit about how I would never get married. It might have included that I wouldn't have babies either. If that's what this is all about, I'm screwed. Cause I don't know where that thing is. I think what I need to do is find it and burn it. I signed it with witnesses and all. I think I was mad at my parents or something that day.

I've decided to adopt. Not this weekend or anything. I need some money first. I'm one paycheck away from utter destitution, so I won't be able to support a baby on my own any time soon, but Rome wasn't built in a day.

Pink

So, there's this sort of chain letter thing going all around Facebook telling women to post the color of their bra in the status bar of their profiles. It is said that this is supposed to raise breast cancer awareness. It is also said that these women should not explain to the men on Facebook what their status' mean.

Um...really? THIS is supposed to raise awareness?

How many women aren't aware of breast cancer? I doubt there are even any men who aren't aware of it, but it seems really strange (read "stupid") that you would want to "raise awareness" of an issue by purposely excluding half the population from said awareness.

And even if we were to bring men in on this thing...how does this raise breast cancer awareness? Is it raising any funds for research? Is anyone posting a link to the Breast Cancer Foundation website along with their status update?

NO!

Now today there is a new one going around telling women to post their shoe size in their status bar. I mean, enough already. If you really want to raise awareness then get out there and do the Avon Breast Cancer Walk and raise money.

Here's the website:

http://walk.avonfoundation.org/site/PageServer?pagename=walk_homepage

And yes, I have supported this cause in the past. I have nothing against breast cancer other than I hope that neither I, nor anyone that I know and love ever have to deal with it.

The End.

What Did You Expect?

I just had a conversation with a friend of mine, let's call her "Annette", and she just said to me that she would commit to the man that she is with right now because he is 85% of what she is looking for.

Eighty-five percent. Is that all there is?

There is a best-selling book that has been around for ages titled "What To Expect When You Are Expecting" and it's for pregnant mother's-to-be. Well, where is the guide for "What To Expect From Your Life Partner"?

Does every single person in life settle when it comes to getting married? Is the world full of couples who are with their 85% match as opposed to 100%? Is 100% possible? What would that look like?

In the movie "Singles", Bridgette Fonda is explaining to her surgeon that she's narrowed her search for the right man down to just one thing "Some who says "Gezundheit" when I sneeze...but I prefer "Bless You"...it's nicer".

Is this what we've been reduced to? You can pick one thing. Just one. And if a man has that one thing, then, he's the guy for you. Forget "Tall Dark and Handsome". That was thrown out years ago. Your new choices are as follows: a) Tall, b) Dark, c) Handsome.

You are more than welcome to a man who is short and ugly, but "Dark".

or

You are more than welcome to a man who is dark and tall, but not "Handsome".

or

You are more than welcome to a man who is ugly and pale, but very, very "Tall".

But, sorry ladies, you can't have all three.

All I hear nowadays is how men like women who are "easy" to be with. Not necessarily easy to get into the sack mind you, but easy going...i.e., doormats.

Forget when all you had to do was be pretty. That's not enough anymore, nor does it seem to even be required. Most of the women that I attended high school with (the married ones) are all FAT now. Let's not blame it on baby weight either shall we? Cause that's not it. Look at Heidi Klum. She's had tons of babies and usually does a catwalk two weeks after the birth of each one. (I wouldn't expect this of a mere mortal, but if your baby is in grade school and you are still blaming that extra 20lbs on him/her...you're fooling yourself).

Nor does it seem that you need to have smarts...this actually seems to be a detriment to any single woman these days. The smarter you are, the longer you will most likely be single. If you are smart your propensity for being "easy going" (a doormat) is likely to be very very unlikely indeed. So, if you have beauty AND brains. You're fucked.

Most of the single women that I know, including myself, have been just as open to lowering our standards like poor Ms. Fonda did in that movie. We've dated the poor ones, the bald ones, the ugly ones, the boring ones, and yet...they didn't want us either.

So, I'm back to wanting it all. There seems no harm in it. Being rejected by a man who actually meets my standards seems as though it would leave a far less bitter taste in my mouth than being dumped by a troll (and I have been...many times).

This might guarantee that I remain single for life, but I want a man who is Tall, Dark, Handsome, Rich, Funny, Sensitive, Generous, Giving, Emotionally Available, Mature, AND who doesn't cheat...AND who likes smart, funny, pretty, thin, and difficult women like myself. (I'm also sensitive and kind and full of sugar and spice and everything nice too).

I just figure if the odds are stacked against me at this point, why not go for the gold?

Eighty-five percent is still a B+. And that ain't bad.

But I'm an A student.

100% baby!

That's what I expect.

Who Am I Kidding?

Keeeeeiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttthhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Good-bye "Keith"

Alright, so all of the hubbub of New Year's has settled down. Resolutions and plans have been made, hopes and dreams established, and the sage has been burnt to cleanse the stench of '09 from my life. And boy was it a real stinker! I have a fairly good idea of what a large portion of this year is going to look like as far as travel, career, pursuits, and hobbies goes. It all looks lovely. So now what?

Feeling free of the burden of man drama is admittedly a very nice feeling indeed. It was only a few days ago that I was expressing such, but as I change from day to day and never know how I'm going to feel, it's hard to tell how long I can hang on to an idea...and the idea that men are not needed is starting to lose its hold on me. For the moment.

Let's face it, life is BORING without a crush! No one to complain to your girlfriends about, no one who's communication style is very much like The Riddle of the Sphinx, subject to hours upon hours of interpretation, second-guessing, and general uncertainty. I mean, what am I supposed to think about all day long? How do you day dream when there's no face to the man? Resorting to heartthrobs is just too teenybopper for me, and to go back into the past and rummage through those whom I have either rejected, or even worse have rejected me, is pathetic! I will not do it!

I've had a hard time letting people go in the past...but as things change and as I grow emotionally, and spiritually too I suppose, I see how fruitless and how unhealthy it can be to not accept when something is over or that someone does not want you...especially when there is no closure! Closure seems to be a harder commodity to come by than even gold or real estate. It's hard to say good-bye when you don't have that tangible and valuable thing. But you have to.

So, as 2010 is upon us, upon me, I have to let go of the past and look toward the future...while being 100% in the present, of course! And I need a future face, a future man, a future crush!

And I need to say good-bye (sans closure) to the man who consumed most, if not all, of my fantasies in 2009. Let's call him "Keith".

Good-bye "Keith". I wish you all the best.

NEXT!

Be My Little Baby

For several nights this week, my dreams have been about children. First it was Robert Downey Jr's imaginary children, then the actual children that I was a nanny for many years ago, and then last night the child of the owner of the restaurant that I work in.

In the past, my baby dreams were usually about me saving a child from a horrible situation, such as keeping one from falling out of a car into freeway traffic, or saving one from falling off of a very high balcony, and even saving one from a deranged mother, but these new dreams are of a different breed.

Last night I dreamt that this sweet little munchkin, let's call her "Lily", was running around a card shop with several of the girls that I work with and we were all taking turns playing with her and watching her and at one point she came up to me and said, "I'm a Vogue-aholic" (meaning she loved looking at the magazine Vogue--she's not even two years old!). We all thought that this was the funniest, cutest thing we had every heard and immediately rushed to find her grandparents so that she could repeat it for them.

Where the hell did "Vogue-aholic" come from? Well, lately as I've been growing out of my clothes I've been becoming more and more obsessed with the idea of buying some new ones. You know, clothes that actually fit, and so I've taken to going on-line and Googling pictures of Kate Moss and looking at Levi's.com, etc. Not to mention, yes, picking up a Vogue or two. So, I guess fashion has been on my mind.

It's funny how this stuff manifests itself into dreams. Now, there are those who believe that in dreams, each character is us and so when you interpret my baby dreams that way, it would seem that in the past there was a lot of anxiety, danger, and actual fear of death. These new dreams seem to be integrating some sense of acceptance and fun. Clearly, I've been able to work some stuff out in my life if my subconscious is thinking/feeling this way. Hurray for me!

Now, why am I manifesting everything into the realm of babies? Well, I'd say that's a no brainer. I'm driving several hundred miles this Friday just to log some baby time with my nephew who is only a few months old. The biological clock knows stuff. I am baby obsessed, baby desperate even! I must see babies. When I see babies, I must hold babies. And when I hold babies, I must kiss their fat little cheeks and play peek-a-boo with them until I get to see those huge toothless smiles. I must! It is imperative.

So, while my subconscious is working through some stuff, it is also longing. And when I long for something that I can't have my subconscious will make it a reality by dreaming it. When I dream, as I'm assuming is the case when we all dream, it feels real. I may not have a baby in real life and might not for some time, but in my dreams...

Don't Worry, Be Happy

First of all, HAPPY NEW YEAR! I didn't mention Christmas or the fact that the New Year was upon us in previous posts, so I thought I'd acknowledge it. Now I have, now let's move on...

I just woke from a dream where I was in the backyard of Robert Downey Jr.'s house and we were playing "Treasure Hunt" with his very small children. I guess I was the nanny in this scenario cause I remember how nice I thought it was that he included me in the family. RDJ doesn't have any small children (that I'm aware of), but it's a dream, so anything goes.

Not a bad dream to have...Robert Downey Jr. is hot. Although I would have preferred playing his wife and not the nanny. Clearly my sub conscious is struggling with feeling as though I do not belong (but sorta) and is also anxious to have a family of its own. All I can say to that is, "Hang in there subconscious...I'm workin' on it".

It's been about a week since I had that insane exchange with "Michael" about walking around with a shit eating grin on my face all of the time. Well, I've been doing it, and guess what? It works. I've been approaching every person with a smile on my face and warmth in my heart and I gotta say, it really does make a difference.

So far, I have no complaints. It doesn't take very much energy cause I'm not always worried about what people think of me. When you approach everyone with a smile, what can they think of you other than, "Wow, that girl seems really happy/friendly"? Also, I find that misunderstandings are fewer because no one is mistaking my bad attitude as being directed towards them...cause I haven't been displaying a bad attitude. This just seems to take a lot of the guess work out of things not only for me, but for everyone I encounter. And that's a marvelous thing.

I once met a woman at this gym that I used to go to and she always had a smile on her face. One day I said to her, "Wow, you always seem so happy!" and she said to me, "I make an effort to always have a smile on my face and it reminds me to be happy." I never forgot about this because this woman's smile was not fake, weighted or contrived. It was genuine. My smiles over the last week have also been completely genuine. It isn't for show, it's an all encompassing thing that also takes over my feelings, not just my demeanor. And now I know what that woman meant.

It's hard to have your face NOT match your feelings. Our faces were designed in such a way as to be clues to what's going on inside. Eyes are said to be the windows to the soul and I think that's very true. It is also coming into our awareness that thoughts come before feelings. It would then stand to reason that if you have a genuine smile on your face, that you are also having some type of genuinely positive thought in your mind which wouldn't leave a lot of room for all of that negative self talk that is usually consuming most of our time and energy.

I've made the decision that if I'm going to stay here in Los Angeles that I have to make more of an effort to make my life here work for me. This is just one of the small ways in which I am going to do that. I feel less defensive, less misunderstood and just all around healthier and happier. Of course I am aware that happiness is not a constant. It comes and goes with the good and bad times in our lives, but this one small thing, smiling, is something that I can do that doesn't cost me a thing.

I suggest you try it.

"You don't have to say a word, and it comes in every language...It's a universal sign, everyone can do it...Smile on! Pass it on!"~Deeee-Lite