After years of self-analysis, I thought I pretty much knew everything about myself. I drink champagne, don't do laundry, hate changing clocks when the power goes out and might marry the dancefloor. Music is my boyfriend. Being bossy is my flaw. Cigarettes are the treat I give myself every now and again for being such an unusually healthy individual. I talk to myself incessantly - like full conversations. My dog is prettier than yours. No, seriously, she is. And I could stand to drop my ego every now and again. It's not all about me. In fact, it's not about me at all. 

"You are such a psycho when it comes to guys!" declared my best friend on the phone yesterday. "Such a psycho."

"Seriously, you're right. But they never know! Why do they never know?" I yelled into the phone. See also: spaz case. She went on to describe a situation we had in high school. I was obsessed with this guy, John Bosse. Oh, he fully knows now; and we're friends so it's fine that I write this. (Hi Bosse.) I don't know if it was his reversible Nautica jacket or his hunter green Chevy Blazer, but I thought he was sooooo cool. Plus he's pretty smart. Sometimes I thought he was a little bit mean to his mom, but other than that, I loved him. Hearted him. I even made up songs about him. And oh my god did I sing them. I drove past his house sometimes on my way home at night. Crazy behavior. Cray cray.

My aforementioned best friend went on to tell me that on Friday night, she saw this guy we knew in high school. His name is Connor. (Hi Connor.) "Oh my god, remember how I stole his shirt and used to smell it," I said.

"You are such a psycho when it comes to guys!" she said. "Such a psycho."

But, and there is a but, they really never know. (There must be some guy reading this thinking, Oh no, we know.) "Bosse said that it would have been really helpful in high school to know that you liked him," said my friend. Hold up. And there was the Saturday afternoon light bulb ladies and gents. I use distanced disinterest as a defense mechanism? Me? I didn't even know this about myself. Semi- recently, a guy and I decided not to see one another and during the conversation, I do remember him saying, "Of course you aren't going to say anything...because you're so strong." To which I replied, "No, I'm just not in the business of selling myself to dudes." Literary agents, yes. Dudes, no.

However, this creates quite the conundrum because I'm so self-assured and confident and yadda, yadda, yadda - saying everything I like and don't like and whatnot, that guys assume that if I like them, they will know. If my distanced disinterest causes them to believe otherwise, they cease pursuing me, assuming I'm not on board. This happens all the time bringing me to yet another thing I learned about myself this week... I am a tune changer. Tune. Changer. Changing my tune all the time as I'm, according to another friend, powered by something different everyday.

"Please explain," I said upon learning this information about myself.

"One day you're so inspired by your yoga instructor. The next day you're not working out anymore because you're being European. Then two days later you're onto the next athletic endeavor. Then you're planning your goals with your mom on your kitchen table. One day you're all about focusing on your book. Two days later, you're on a husband mission when last week you were diversifying your "friends with benefits."  But the good thing is that you always have something to keep you motivated...you know to inspire you."

"I'm a tune changer?" I asked.

"Yep. Always changing your tune. On the daily."

"Well, variety is the spice of life."

"And they say to diversify your assets."

"Don't put all your eggs in one basket."

"So what are you going to do?" she asked, referring to my current guy dilemma.

"It's so hard because I'm a sucker for guys who can dance. Sucker."

"Then you, my dear, need to be more forthcoming," she said, reiterating the former day's lesson.

"Never," I said decidedly. 

"You don't want to be forthcoming with guys in case the next day you change your little tune," she concluded. And she is right. What if the next day my tune changes? See also: I never like anyone. And I meet tons of guys all the time. Every. Single. Day. I'm easy to talk with. Guys like me. But I never like any of them for longer than ten minutes. Partially because I am a snob beyond repair and partially because, and this just in, I'm a tune changer who uses distance as a defense mechanism.

Who knew?

Emma Dinzebach