i don't know why i have no problem going into bars alone in non-english speaking developing countries and fucking shit up but in my own country i feel like a total twat doing it. some of my most memorable travel experiences started with me alone in a bar with a book- dancing on tables with randoms i met in ljublijana, clubbing with the croatian water polo team in dubrovnik, midnight motorcycle rides with cambodian teens in siem reap.\n\nso what the fuck is wrong with me that i had to talk myself into going to a bar alone in scottsdale?? yes, true, i am in a red state and on many levels that scares the shit out of me. i just don't know. yes, i brought my computer to do some work, and i sat at the bar, but i was consciously self-conscious. maybe this is a sign of aging. i don't like it.\n\ni do like pasta brioni. it is walking distance from the mother's house, and i think the happy hour aint bad. i had  a huge glass of wine, raviolis and a single yet potent meatball. the total? 10.80.  is it the best italian food i've had. not even close, but it's filling, not bad and as there are others eating solo at the bar, i felt less lame.\n\ngiven, the others at the bar were mostly above 65. it kinda made me feel happy that women live longer than men, so when im that age most of my friends' husbands may be dead (knocks on wood) so that at least i can go with my aged pussy posse years from now.