What's Just Around the Corner

Last night I had the opportunity to catch up with an old friend over some great drinks and a very long walk.  It was a warm night, and there was just something so incredibly poetic about the entire experience.

I didn't know what to expect, as this encounter was more than unexpected.  So we just let the conversation flow as naturally as possible.  And I began connecting the dots, between his experiences and my own.

Perhaps because we are both writers and a little prone to emotional indulgences, we both ate up the nostalgia as if it were the most delicious main course in all of New York City.

But then, just as sudden and unexpectedly as the moment we ran into one another in a crowded market just a few days ago, the gravity of the situation hit me and I came to a startling realization; we never truly know what is just around the corner.

Isn't that absolutely magical?

I have to tell you that the past five days have been like something out of a movie.  There are young couples strolling hand in hand around almost every corner, kids blowing perfectly round bubbles the size of grapefruits along the paths in Central Park, and each scene is perfectly scored with some kind of pure and equally enchanting source music.  It's frightfully wonderful.

Every corner unfolds some depiction of life, love, survival, creativity, work, struggle and yes, the ever impressive American dream.

We are all in this place because it is feeding something within our hearts that is down right demanding to be heard.  In fact, the buildings themselves are demanding in their own right.  They stand over us; towering and impressive.  They have their own unique voices and dresscode.  The buildings provide me great company.  They are my beacons, my mile markers, and my way of navigating from one corner of the map to the other.

All these people I see around me have completely overwhelmed my senses.  And I find myself struggling to find the words to express what I feel each day as I walk through the countless blocks and stretch of concrete.

I can't very well explain it.  I can't really figure out how to quantify the countless moments I catch myself in awe.

And I know that this feeling will inevitably fade over time as I too, am cast alongside this wonderful hit show that is Manhattan.  But for now, I still catch my breath each time I turn a corner and am presented with granduer and wonderment.

Tomorrow I start my job.  And then, I will have officially taken my first big bite of this 'Big Apple.'  I will have my own routine and semblance of a life as a proper city girl.  Who knows what is waiting around the next corner... maybe the best is yet to come.

Until then, this corner is looking pretty good.

Today

Lil Nicky

1oz Vodka
1/2 oz Pama Liqueur
Splash of Soda
On the rocks with a lime wedge.

It's a Jungle Out There

It's no secret by now that I am a thirty year old single woman.  Big deal.  Although I am not overly affected by my singular status at this point in time, there are some days where it would be nice to not wear the label of 'Single White Female.'  It's like wearing a raw NY strip around my neck while taking a nature walk through the Amazon.  It can be a bit... uuhhhh, uncomfortable.

A friend of mine convinced me  to go out last night to a local bar to celebrate my newfound freedom from my job behind the bar.  "It's your last shift, let me buy you a drink."

It's funny... Even though I am a bartender, I'm not much into the whole bar scene.  But the gesture was certainly sweet of her and I agreed that it was a night worth celebrating, so we went out. 

Looking around the crowed room, ladies were out numbered 2-1,  I suddenly began to wonder if I had made a mistake.  They were like a pride of big game cats, out on the prowl. 

While I was definitely in the mood to celebrate, I was not in the mood to ward off the local game.  Too bad.  

The first old cat swaggered up and took a seat next to me.  He was a walking, head-to-toe mid-life crisis;  sporting a white polo sweatshirt with a flipped up collar and a scruffy three day beard.  He launched into our conversation like he had undoubtedly been doing with stealthy precision for the past thirty-five years.  Oh great, thanks for telling me how beautiful I am while you try to conceal your wedding ring. 

It's so gross!  Please go home to your wife and leave us single gals alone.   

My friend is only twenty-two but can shut it down hard.  I guess she's kind of a pro at this sort of thing.  She somehow interjected a comment that I am still trying to process as to how it registered as an immediate deflection.  It was like magic.  He instantly shook my hand and turned to his friend. Game Over. 

Okay, back to OUR conversation.  It was difficult to focus on my friend as I could sense that we were being stalked by yet another overly eager male, directly to her left.  He popped into our conversation with one of the most awkward lead in openers ever... "What are you ladies drinking?"  Not only is that a.) Boring b.) annoying c.) none of his business and d.) completely unwarranted; it was also made all the more awkward when my friend assumed that meant (what it almost always does mean) and she informed him that we weren't really drinking anything anymore... we were just about done.  

I could see the look of rejection wash all over him and he slurred, "Well I wasn't suggesting I was going to buy you a drink, I was just curious what you ladies were drinking."  Okay creep.  You weren't offering, you were just curious?? Puhhhlease.... Ugh...WEIRDO.  

"Well that was awkward," I said to him, shaking my head.  

Look, I am not some stuck up chick who won't give a guy a break.  I appreciate an honest attempt at getting to know someone in the midst of a crowed room of hopefuls.  But, one thing was pretty clear to me last night after being approached by a married man and a few awkward open liners; it's a jungle out there.  

I may be out of my element there... at the local watering hole... but can't I just take my sip and move along without having to fend for myself? 

Is this what it's like everywhere???? 

*Consider this an open discussion.*  

If you have any suggestions or good advice of your own survival instincts/experiences in the jungle... I will gladly listen.

Here is a little something I would like to say to all the married, sketchy crazies out there in the jungle-

Hey, Big Cat... You see, I'm more of a lone wolf.  I may also be out on the prowl in my own way, but I'm of the kind who mate for life.  We are a rare breed.  Kinda like penguins and swans. Please hunt someone more like you. Thanks.  

Sincerely, Not Interested.  

Today:

WHITE LION
3/4 oz. Fresh Lime Juice
1/2 oz. simple Syrup
1/4 oz. Raspberry Syrup
1/2 oz. Curacao
2 oz. Medium Rum
Shake all ingredients with ice and strain into white wine glass filled with crushed ice. Garnish with berries and a lime wedge. .

For this and other drink recipes click here!

Alpha-Dogs and Underdogs

Have you ever seen the way dogs interact for the very first time? They sniff, circle, wag, bark, mount, spray and lick.  Some dogs puff and boast their chests in a dominant way, while others tuck their tails and submit.

If you have seen this interaction before, I imagine you have also been able to detect which animals are the more dominant. This inherent nature stems back to the beginning of time, when the basic survival instinct was in practice at every single moment.  And to that point,  pack leaders are vital to the survival of the entire family.  

So let's take this a step further. 

Two men were sitting at the bar last night having a long venting session.  They were both very frustrated with the women in their lives.  That part was very apparent.  I wasn't necessarily paying any attention to the specifics of their conversation as I was busy making drinks for other bar guests.  But after a few drinks, one of the men asked me a question that has plagued the male species over and over again in our own animal kingdom. "Why do women go for jerks?"

I was so caught off guard I had to completely stop whatever I was in the middle of doing.  "Why do women fall for jerks?" 

I thought about it for a moment while wiping down the bar-top with a damp towel.  I thought back to my own previous relationships.  Some of the men I have fallen in love with have had a little bit of jerky tendencies for sure.  But of course, I imagine that I am no picnic to live with at times either...

I thought of my parent's relationship and other successful marriages.  What makes it work? Are there established roles? Who is tucking their tale? Is it a trade off? 

After a moment of serious contemplation, this is what I surmised.  "Gentlemen, I think women are actually attracted to assholes because what they are really looking for is an Alpha male. And the two are often confused to be one in the same."

They were astonished. "YES! That makes SO much sense!"  And then they were off to the races.  "But we are good guys! It's so unfair!" 

If I were to be perfectly honest with myself, I would say that I am definitely attracted to alpha males.

An Alpha has traits that are vital for survival. Alphas can be both men and women. It is simply a term used to describe a certain number of traits.  Leadership, dominance, assertiveness are characteristics that are appealing to me.  In fact I am actually an Alpha personality.  

However, when it comes to choosing a mate, women often follow their own primal instincts of seeking the strongest animal in the pack. I have heard time and time again that a woman values security above anything else. Women want to feel safe and secure.  So we gravitate toward the men who appear confident and secure.  Unfortunately, confidence can be easily confused with dominant, aggressive behavior and over inflated egos; i.e assholes.

What do women mean when they talk about security? Most men assume that security means one thing: money. This however is a very limited scope of the entire concept.  Although, I can only really speak for myself and not for the entire female species. Oh what the hell, it's my blog. 

Security is in part financial only because of basic survival instincts.  When the female is close to giving birth, they are well aware that there will be a certain period of time when they must rely on their mate to provide support and care. It is a physical and emotional shift.  

Security above all else means feeling safe.  

We all love a good story of the underdog winning the race.  And we've all heard the saying that"Nice guys finish last." 

I hope I have learned my lesson by now.  I hope that I have matured enough to delineate between an alpha male and just a plain old jerk.  

Because I think women don't set out to fall for the bad boy.  When we are young and rebellious, maybe that plays into it.  But as we grow up, we hopefully wise up too.  

Is it so wrong to hope to find a loyal and sensitive man who can also chop wood, build a fire and bring home the bacon? Even if only metaphorically speaking? Is it so hard to find? 

Or are we incapable of seeing the difference? 

For all you out there who feel like the underdog, my advice is to stay true to yourself.  Don't feel sorry for yourself either. A smart woman will come along eventually.  Just don't be surprised if she's had a few bad dogs in her past. We are all survivalists in some respect.  And hopefully, our instincts will lead us back to our true nature... to our pack. 

Ladies: stop confusing assholes with alphas.  

Gentlemen: Please do the same.

Today:

Salty Dog

1 1/2 oz Vodka

Splash of Grapefruit Juice

Salted Rim

Loyal Dogs, Dudes and Dads:

                                     

                                      

Book Smarts Vs. Street Smarts

Exactly four years ago today, I pulled over into a fast food parking lot to wish my eldest brother a very happy birthday. It was a small but sincere gesture. And it was, in my mind, a big deal. He was turning thirty and he seemed depressed. He thought he would have accomplished so much more by his thirtieth birthday. I spent about 45 minutes on the phone with him, trying to boost his confidence.  

If anyone was going to feel sorry for themselves that day, it should be me. Right? I was, after all, on my way to finish up my course to become a bartender. Make fun all you want, but the concept of working in a restaurant terrified me.  So I thought I would approach it like I had so many other things. I would enroll in a course, study, take an exam and then I would have a certificate. Then I would feel ready... right? 

Wrong.  No real bartenders take classes. That was the rumor anyway. Like "book smarts" vs. "street smarts." Or playing music by ear. So if you want to get anywhere you should know how to bluff.  That is exactly what I did. I bluffed a little here and there to begin. It was a bit of a shit show at first. But as someone once told me a long time ago, "Fake it til you make it."

Well here I am. Four years have passed. About a week and a half ago, it was my turn to turn thirty and have a mini meltdown. I looked back at all the roads traveled to get me here where I am now. I'm still bluffing a little here and there, trying to make it. And sometimes I wonder how I ended up serving so much of my time behind bars. 

And then I have to remind myself, that to serve my time is to serve something greater. Maybe it's not so bad. We all have to start somewhere. And this, this is my shot. 

Try this:

Equal parts 

Hpnotiq & Gin

Lemonade & Sprite

Build on the rocks and shut your face. It's good.