The bar is not all it’s cracked up to be, and other lies adults have told me

I remember being 20 years old, six months shy of the big 2-1, and the only thing I wanted in the world was to be able to go into the bar with my friends. A lot of my friends were older, so their Fridays we’re spent at the bar, not being sober while I stayed at home and waited for my turn to arrive to be legal. I would always tell everyone that I had so many days until I turned 21 and people used to look at me like I was an alien. They all used to say “Turning 21 isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be. It’s expensive. And loud.” I refused to believe them, I knew that the bar scene would be for me. I knew what bars looked like and I had been in a couple previous to my birthday, but I could never legally sit down and have that ice-cold, refreshing, beer.

Finally the day came that I turned 21, 12:05AM on August 8, 2012 I walked into a bar. Legally. I couldn’t believe it, the day that I had been eagerly awaiting had come, and not a moment too soon. Regardless that I spent the first hours of my birthday in a rinky-dink bar in my little town, it was still a bar, and I was drinking. I had a blast with everyone feeding me shots like candy and drinking miller lites as quickly as one would consume water after a workout. All of my friends that could come out, came and made my day especially great. But during all of this hub bub I realized something, the bar was everything that it was cracked up to be. I feel like they just lied to me to get me to not be so eager about throwing the last of my “non legal” years down the drain. At age 22 I still love to go to the bar, it’s a chance to get out of the house, to do something, to meet new people.

Santa Claus
Christmas isn’t Christmas with out Santa Claus, the jolly old soul. You guessed it, another adult lie. All that nonsense talk that your parents gave you about “You better be good! Santa’s watching!” and the “Naughty and Nice List” was just to get you to behave with bribing you with Christmas presents. Think about this. If Santa is watching all of the time, that means he’s watching me shower, and go to the bathroom, and various other activities. Wouldn’t that mean that Santa was a creeper? Like straight up pedophile? He should be on Megan’s List. Also, for what reason is it that you need to sit on Santa’s lap? I understand that you want to tell him what you want for Christmas, but that could be done sitting right next to him, or he could just read the letter that was sent to him. Finally, the fact that this man, who has to have more than a size fifty in pants, can squeeze himself into yours and everyone else’s chimney  in ONE NIGHT. Every child who celebrates Christmas gets presents from the big man himself underneath their Christmas tree. What if you don’t have a chimney? Apparently your parents let Santa in the front door like mine did every year. With all the stops that he makes, he still manages to eat everyone’s milk and cookies that they leave out for him. At my house, we left Santa my mom’s awesome Christmas cookies and a can of RC cola, because my dad said Santa would be sick of milk by the time he made it to our house.

There is an appropriate age in where you tell children about sex, but there comes the unexpected time in a parents life where their young child wonders where babies come from. Obviously, they don’t tell them about the whole p in v action that happens, you can’t be that graphic. So to make how babies come from believable to kids, parents tell their youngsters that their little brother or sister is coming by stork. The story goes that the stork will fly over the house and deliver the new brother or sister to them. Now, I’m not sure where the baby comes from, or how the stork retrieves the baby, the parents never relinquish that information. So you mean to tell me a bird, carried a baby, swaddled in blankets, to my house to deliver my baby sister and left her outside for you to find? Isn’t that child abuse? That makes complete sense. Okay. Where is the number to get the stork to come back for this crying baby, I dont want it.

Tooth fairy
The tooth fairy is another one of those lies that adults tell. When you lose your baby teeth as a child, you are suppose to put your tooth underneath your pillow and wait for a little fairy to fly in your room when you sleep to take your newly ripped out, bloody, nasty baby tooth and replace it with money. Now, when I was losing teeth the going rate was $.25, but inflation has now hit the tooth fairy and she is giving dollars. As a child, this is easy to believe…unless you woke up while your mom is putting the money under you pillow. As you grow up you realize that the tooth fairy isn’t real but as a kid, I always had questions like “How does she get into my room?” Or “She’s so tiny, how does she carry my tooth?”. Parents, with the intention of knowing their reputation is on the line, answer with one simple word, “Magic”. Magically, this tooth fairy lady pops into your house, takes MY tooth from under MY bed in MY room, and then leaves me money? What is she going to do with my tooth? Why does she need it? Why can’t I keep it? The mystery is solved when you find out where the tooth fairy really put all of those teeth…in a drawer, in your parents room.

As you can see, there have been numerous occasions that adults have straight up lied to our faces as kids. It just takes for us to get older to realize that they weren’t so much lies as they were little imaginary stories to keep your life a little bit more up beat and entertaining. Any parent will tell you that there is nothing better than your child seeing that they got exactly what they wanted for Christmas, or that The Tooth Fairy came and gave them a dollar. But there are also times where adults will tell you things just so you enjoy your life a little bit longer and don’t wish it all away. Life moves so fast and you only have a limited time to enjoy it, so never wish it to go by faster than it already does. That’s why adults lie to us, so we can enjoy life for what it is, nothing too complicated.


How To Have Something You Can’t Have

It is human nature to want things that you cant have. It is that attraction to something so far out of your reach that you have to have it, whether it be shoes, or clothes, or cars, mine just happens to be men.

I could not tell you to the extent of how bad my problem is, but on a scale of one to ten, I am at least at a nine. I go to a bar, I see a guy that I think is attractive so I try to go talk to him, when I get stopped by my friend to tell me that he has a girlfriend Whomp whomp. But he’s seriously the only attractive on in the entire establishment, I cant stop thinking about that one guy, but I can’t have him, I really dont know why I’m even thinking about it any more. But I am. Fuck me!

This is a characteristic that I find myself falling into all of the time, wanting someone that I cant have. It has been happening for years, I guess I never knew what my problem was until one day my friend pulled me aside and told me that I should stop striving for the things that I can’t have, and go for the things that I can have. That  makes me question why do we tell everyone to reach for the stars? Why strive for things that are not within our natural reach? If I should just go for the things I can have in life, what is the sense? Why dream, because you can only have the things that are within your reach? Since I am the dreamer type, I make it a challenge when I do find someone who fits this description. Its not like I’m like “Oh, lets see if I can get him to sleep with me!”, No. Nothing like that at all, I am not a slut. It’s more like what do I have to do to make this person change their mind; what can I do to make this fall in my favor?Now, usually this works, sometimes not the way that I would like it to, but I get something that I want out of it whether it be friendship or they make out with me, either or, I’ll take both. But the misleading part of getting something from this said person, it doesn’t help. Instead of turning around when I’m satisfied, I always want more than I just had, its like pouring gasoline on an already lit fire. Its like when your friend has a lollipop and lets you suck on it for a minute when you have a craving for something sweet. That’s really thoughtful of you to have shared your lolly with me, I appreciate that, but it didn’t help the craving, you just made it worse.

PRIME EXAMPLE-My gay best friend, Zachary, at one point in the last year thought that he was straight and he wanted me to be his girlfriend. Great! Awesome! I’m gonna date my best friend who went straight for me! I must be pretty to turn a gay man straight. I thought that I would never have to date another male in my entire life, I was so happy with the thought of Zachary being the rest of my life. I thought that it was signed, sealed, delivered, I was going to be his Mrs. Umh….Right. After a few months of just hanging out all of the time, and only kissing as many times on my one hand, Zachary decided that he was confused and turned back to the D. Now, I realized that this wasn’t my fault that he was gay, he was gay before me. I knew that the reason that he went back for the opposing team wasn’t because I was morbidly ugly. In my head I had already had the picture in my head of Zachary being my Prince Charming, being the one guy that I didn’t expect to sweep me off of my feet and come in with his white horse and we could live happily ever after. He was the best man friend that I had honestly had, he treated me nicely and made me laugh, he treated me like I wanted to be treated-the way I should be treated. The fact that that was being ripped out of my hands because of something that is completely out of my control grinded my gears. I wanted to show him how well someone could love him, how he deserves to be loved, and how I could treat him. Out of all honestly I would still like to, he did the same thing for me. That is the part of me that wants what I can’t have. I have had hundreds of conversations, drunk, high, and sober, with my co workers, my friends, EVERYONE, and they all tell me the same thing , “You can’t love him like that, his feelings for you aren’t the same as you have for him.” Thank you, I realize that. Completely. But  I feel that part of me just can’t help but want that. I can’t help but to want a boyfriend who I would love unconditionally and laugh with and be treated nicely, and wake up next to my best friend everyday. Why wouldn’t I  want that? I have had a taste of something so sweet, something that I should taste everyday, but I don’t?

Instead of throwing out our friendship and making it weird, I have taken the love that he has shown me that I could have, and the love that I have for him and I have channeled that into a better friendship for him and I. I might not be his girlfriend but I have many other titles from him, his tax lady, his ride or die bitch,  his occasional coverup girlfriend, a problem solver, half mom to our cat Lola, but most of all his bestest friend, I think that’s my favorite one. I support his lifestyle and any move he wants to make, within reason. There are some times I do have to pull the reins on the big dreamer. Every day is an adventure with him, I COULD NOT IMAGINE having a life without him in it. To be honest, I feel bad for any guy that I will have in my life from here on out, because they’re going to take a back seat to Zachary. I thank my lucky stars everyday for me having someone like him in my life, and that he is the person that I call my best friend.


I realize that I will always have this want for things that I can’t have, but I have learned to be able to flop the situation so I end up with something that I can have. I might not be able to have Zachary as my boyfriend, WHICH IS FINE, but I have him in a better way. I turned something that was negative into something completely positive. I made something that very often ruins friendships, into something that made mine stronger. I took something about myself that I didn’t like and made it work for me. Take something about yourself that you don’t like and make it work for you, you never know what could happen.