Meeting strangers and discovering the world through their eyes simultaneously expands and shrinks the world. You are able to discover and appreciate things that you didn't even know existed. You are able to consider view points you might never have. You are able to view people you might have seen as very different from you, as quite similar. 

What's more, you come to know yourself better, you might even come to realize that you were wrong about a certain "type" of person. It reminds you that your fears of others are based on virtually nothing. It is good to remember that from time to time.

Lastly, Picking up Dudes in Bars reminds you that anything is possible. I would never have guessed at the beginning of the evening that I am about to describe that it would go the way it did. The world can surprise you in very wonderful ways if you give it the opportunity. All you have to do is give it that.

I was in the vicinity of the great city of Chicago, from which I hale, visiting a friend for the evening in the quaint little suburb of Forest Park. She and I were strolling The Boulevard of Broken Dreams, (this street cannot have an acronym, as specificity in any event in which you refer to it is paramount),an avenue we had frequented in our youth. We had a delightful little dinner and two bottles of wine at a quaint Italian place, then decided to go back to some of the bars where we had done serious damage in the past.

We walk in to the first bar and there in front of us are two brothers, roughly ten years our junior, looking all muscle-y and shit. Holy crap were they adorable. “Look Tracy!” I said with glee in my voice, and loud enough so they could hear, “how sweet! They must be brothers!” They boldly looked at us up and down, as those Midwestern men do, and then we fell into a delightful conversation about their motorcycles. They were very proud of them. I decided to take that opportunity to make fun of them for that. Midwestern men also love sarcastic women. Take note. 

After a beer, one of the brothers, I forget his name, asked me if I wanted to go outside and see his motorcycle. I happily accepted. It happened to be right out front and turned out to be one of those crotch rocket things. It was blue and white. I burst out laughing. I am kind of a wise-ass when I am buzzed. He just smiled and asked if I wanted a ride. I replied that no, I did not, and that I never ride on the back of motorcycles, or on the front for that matter, due to the attachment I have to my life. 

I did take the opportunity to let him know how much I enjoy walking. He smiled and told me that he also liked walking. So I took his hand and led him around the corner, and in the shadow of the building, I pushed him up against the wall and kissed him, hard. Then I started rubbing his amazingly muscle-y body, and he rubbed mine. The next few minutes that passed were quite wondrous. So much so that I unbuckled his belt, pulled down his pants, got on my knees and gave him a blow job. These moments were also quite wondrous. 

Minutes later, from around the corner, we heard his brother calling his name, whatever it was, so I got off my knees and pulled up his pants. He complained that he was just about to cum (yes, I am that good), and asked if I would go home with him. I replied that I would not, as that would entail getting on the back of his crotch rocket. Immediately after I responded in exactly that manner I laughed. He frowned. I kissed him and said good-bye. Then he left. Not happily really, but in the end, I figured he got a blow job from a chick against a building, so really, how bad was I gonna feel about that?

I returned to my friend in the bar and we decided to move on down The Boulevard of Broken Dreams. As we walked I told her my tale of victory. She laughed. It was invigorating to see my old friend again.

The next bar we visited was basically empty, which filled me with sadness because it used to be the MOST hoppin’ place on The Boulevard of Broken Dreams. We sat down at the bar, at an angle from two fellas on the other side. We ordered crap beers and then began talking. I knew it was only a matter of time before we started talking to those guys. Simple math, actually, two single guys, buzzed, two single gals, buzzed, close to the end of the night in an empty bar. I believe that is what they call Addition in elementary schools all across the nation.

Soon enough, they had moved over toward us, and I was happy to see that the tall blond burley fella was taking a liking to me. We were chatting about baseball, drinking beer, and flirt/groping just a bit. It was then that I suggested we take a walk. Of course, I checked in with Tracy before I did this to make sure I was not leaving her with a dude she was not stoked to be left with, and she seemed good with it, so out we went into the Midwestern summer night with nothing but our dreams and sex drives to guide us.

We eventually came to an alley/parking lot type thing and he lifted me up and sat me on top of an old Cadillac. It put me at just the right height so we could start making out easily, being eye to eye and whatnot. I wondered momentarily if he liked the way cock tasted, and thought of asking, but I figured that might kill the mood. 

It was pretty hot. He was a great kisser, and he knew exactly how to pull my hair to give me the message that he was going to have me. I was incredibly surprised to see how quickly he went down on me. I mean, it was almost right away. Luckily, I was wearing a skirt so all he had to do was take off my panties..which I never found again, and work his magic. And it was pretty magical. After I came, he unbuttoned his pants. I made to give him my very best, but he said he wanted to fuck me. Of course I did not have my damn condoms with me, and he said he had none, but that he didn’t care. 

I told him that I did, that I just got tested, I was clean and care free and did not want to worry about his cock being diseased. That was when he kinda got pissed at the insinuation. It was a bit of a tussle to be frank. I mean…not in a serious way..we grappled a bit, started making out again, groping each other, and in the end I did fuck him. Without a condom. Which freaked me out for about six months. I was at Planned Parenthood ever month or two after that getting tested for STDs. 

I emerged unscathed, disease-wise, but this is one of those things that I have always prided myself on and in that moment, fell short. This could have easily ended badly in so many ways, and in the end, it ruined the experience for me. I mean, I could not really bask in the glow of great sex and a great sexual conquest due to the fact that I was worried I was going to, at any moment, find growths or start itching or what have you.

That being said, six months later, when I was sure I had not contracted a disease, I was more free to revel in the beauty of that night, but still, I had to wait six months to truly look back and enjoy it. That is a hell of a waiting period for a pleasurable experience to land.

This unpleasantness notwithstanding, this was what I would consider to be an epic victory. In both scenarios, I was able to boldly and confidently speak to people who I had as of that very moment, never laid eyes on. My evening turned out to be an adventure because I was willing to put myself out there. 

It turned out to be a night I will never forget. 

Last week I wrote about how to make certain aspects of your life better. I gave examples of the things I have done to improve my experiences; work, home, and DMV visits, to name a few. I felt like it might be time to stop dwelling on the struggles that got me here and start talking about the adjustments I have made which will take me farther.

Tonight, another gigantic breakthrough. I allowed myself to be very angry at the person I am closest to. I allowed myself to express it. I gave him the chance to handle it. You know what happened? Right after I expressed my anger, it evaporated into thin air. We hugged, talked about it, and moved on. And that was it.

This has not been my practice for most of my life. For most of my life, I have been afraid to show my anger to the people who I love the most. Afraid to let them know I am hurt, or scared or vulnerable. I have stuffed my anger because I was afraid that if I expressed it, I would not be as lovable. I was afraid, as silly as it might sound, that I would lose them.

But is that silly? That belief came from somewhere; somewhere down the line, I was taught that if I did not go along to get along, I would not be lovable. This is bullshit, and it is just about to change my life. In fact, it already has. 

Two years ago today I visited the site of the place where I first let people know, in an incredibly constructive way, that I was angry. I let them know it was not okay to treat me as if I was a rug beneath their feet. I visited that place in defiance, because, you see, I am banned from there. Yes, believe it or not, there is a place in this wide world from which I am banned. I have to tell you, it is something of which I am extremely proud.

Proud because I did not believe their assessment of me. I did not believe that I deserved that treatment. Not only that, what I did about it made me an outlaw, a rebel. It is rare for an opportunity like that to come along. I look back on it and smile with pride and gratitude that I took the opportunity to stand up for myself and show a person who treated me badly how wrong that estimation was. I wish I could write about the details here, but I can't, I signed a piece of paper saying that I wouldn't. Yeah, that is how badass I was when I stood up for myself. That is how badass I am.

So when are you going to stand up? When are you going to stop believing the bullshit that everyone piles upon you because they think so little of themselves, and prove your worth? When are you going to tell the people who believe that you are nothing that you are in fact, something else? 

As it turns out, the only person who has to believe it is you. Not another person in the world is required to see it. Only you. And when you believe it, you are free.

As I might or might not have said, our society relies upon our fear, so everyone is to some extent afraid.  In this country, we are trained to believe that we are not special, that we are not lovable. That none of us is enough, just as we are. This keeps​ us in our places and keeps us buying useless stuff in the vain hope that it will improve our worth.

What this does on a social level is it keeps us being shitty to ourselves and each other. IT KEEPS US BEING SHITTY TO EACH OTHER. So in order to combat this, the best thing you can do is adjust your attitude. Change your mindset. Start to see that you are enough. That you are beautiful. That due to the fact that you are a human being, you are epic. 

It is the hardest thing to do in a world full of messages and people telling you that you are unworthy. But it is possible. It just takes practice. It takes your commitment to not give up. It takes a commitment to you. From there, once you have committed, it is not easy, but it does feel better and better as you go along. So go ahead, take the risk and make a commitment to yourself that you are going to change your mind. That your attitude will be one of defiance. That you will, against all efforts to the contrary, like yourself. You will in fact, love yourself. Not the flowery love you see in movies or read about in books. This love is the badass, gritty, stick it to the man love that will liberate you from your fears. It will free you from your anxiety. It will create a world for you where anything is possible.

Don't believe me? Give it a try. I dare you.

I was speaking with a friend recently about my blog. She was letting me know how great my posts had been lately, and how they were starting to sound more melodic, like poetry. I was super proud. I have been loving writing my posts, and really getting in to what I am writing about. 

So I decided to read them. Holy crap. Learning from your pain? Breaking up with people? Getting screwed over by a drunk dude on a beach? Fuck. Where is the joy? Where is the wonderful? So much of my life is spent putting happy energy into the every day, I thought I might give you some tips on that stuff too; real quick like.

These are just examples of things I do. I am not suggesting that you do these exact things yourself, I am hoping that you will use them as a jumping-off point so that you might bring a little bit more wonderful into your everyday existence.

• Do a Pretend The Real World is Facebook day. Bring a bit of virtual reality into the workplace by walking around "poking" people, "liking" them, hanging up pictures of yourself and your family on vacation on random walls, handing out articles to people and letting them know that you would like to have a discussion about that topic later that goes absolutely nowhere, and walk into rooms, announce random mundane things about your life, then come back later to see how many likes you get.
• Wear interactive clothing, like The Dress of Miss Fortune, which I created out of a thrift shop dress and quotes from ten famous twentieth century female authors and poets. I attached about 100 of these quotes to my dress with a needle and thread then walked around work asking everyone to pick a fortune. Nothing like watching someone's face as they read a Dorothy Parker quote.
• Have inter-office mail? Use it to send fan mail to the peeps you cherish at work. Anonymously. Tell them they are awesome, that they light up your day, that they make work seem less horrifying, or whatever. You pick the message and the magic it provides will speak for itself.

​

As I said, these are just jumping-off points. Don't worry, next week I will go back to my old ways of writing about struggle and torment, as that seems to be in my wheel house as of late....until then, bring a little bit of sunshine into someones day by singing at the top of your lungs into your phone. It just might make your day, too.

I twisted myself in knots. I worked hard and long. I cried. I did everything I could, but eventually, I had to end it. 

These sentences, strung together, describe the end of almost every romantic relationship I have had, and a few friendships as well. In each one of them, I would explode out of the rigid relationship container I had squeezed myself into. I was cramping. I was resenting. I was holding myself back from my bigger life. 

Those containers always seemed so roomy at first... but then I would grow, change, or realize that there were just tons of mirrors everywhere, making the container I was in seem much larger than it actually was.

My first break up was twenty five years ago. I was desperately in love with a man who lied and cheated on me. I knew he would not change, and I could not respect myself in that relationship, and that, ultimately was how I knew it was time to leave. It took ten years for me to get over that break-up. Ten years to get over a man who lied and cheated. 

That is the thing to remember when you are breaking up; the shit does not have to make sense. You might be in love with a person who controls you, who doesn't support you, a person who abuses you; yet still, that pain you feel when you let go, that shit is tough. Tough because you have grown with that person. You have changed with that person. You have opened yourself up and shared a part of your life with that person, and that is a big thing. But it is not everything. It is not everything.

Bad break ups are damaging. They ruin any memory of what was and turn any sweetness that existed, acrid. But no matter what it has come to, your relationship started with hope. Your relationship started with love. 

We exist in a world where things begin and end; meals, work, classes, days, seasons, games, life. Yet for some reason we have been taught that relationships are only successful if they last forever and you are a failure if yours does not last. 

But I see it in another way. I believe the best relationships end when it is time. They end when they are no longer of use to the people in them. They end when they no longer serve. I have rarely seen this; the relationship that has ended in a timely manner.  Because it is so hard to let go. It is so hard to say good-bye. It is hard to face the rest of your life knowing that it will never be the same. 

That is why you stay until the pain of staying is greater than the pain of leaving. Until you have finally had enough. Until you are just about out of patience. Because no one ever taught you that it is okay to leave. No one ever told you that it is okay to save yourself from a relationship that has gone bad. No one ever told you that getting to the point of pain, of profound sadness is a sign that you have waited too long.

But it is okay. It is okay to leave. It is okay to have an ending. Endings are wonderful things because they are natural. The death of a relationship is the clearing away of space for something new, something more suited to who you are becoming, something that will give you room to stretch your legs and breathe in the air.

So don't wait. This is a conversation that you should have sooner rather than later. This could take days or weeks depending on the length and depth of the relationship, but it is worth it. It is worth it to leave a relationship in a way that is respectful, loving, and compassionate. It is worth it because the person you are leaving is a person you have loved. Ending a relationship well is a tribute. It is an Ode. It is a way of expressing your love for that person that can save the memory of all the good stuff you had.

Most of all, it is for you. It comes down to what you are willing to sacrifice to be in a relationship with another person. If you are sacrificing you, it is too much. Your break-up is a way to tell yourself that you are worthy of more. That you deserve a better match. You deserve a chance at happiness. 

You do, don't you?