Posts Tagged ‘girl’
A Lesson in Jealousy…
“Whoever envies another confesses his superiority”
~Samuel Johnson, The Rambler
The biggest lie we (women) tell ourselves is that we don’t have time to “worry” about what the next woman has. We’re so “busy” being independent and successful that we simply can’t fit in time to be jealous (yeah right!). The truth is this; what the next woman has keeps us striving for more of whatever “it” is that you don’t. For some women it’s a better career, a better body, a perfect marriage or all of the above. In Los Angeles there’s nothing we love more than having something that the next woman can’t. However, when we set the bar to someone else’s accomplishments, we don’t realize that we’re actually putting a ceiling on our own capacity to achieve. It’s like owning the fact that the best you can do is be as good as the next person, rather than realizing your individual potential.
The best way to deal with feelings of jealousy is to confront the real issue of lack in your own life. Simply put, you’re not really jealous of your friend’s new car but your friend’s new car further magnifies your own inability to purchase one. To be clear, your inability to purchase a new car has absolutely nothing to do with your friend’s new BMW. It really boils down to the current state of affairs that your life is in versus your friends and your constant comparisons to someone else’s perceived happiness. Even if you attain enough to keep up with the Jones, you’ll find that you still won’t be happy.
Be honest with yourself! Don’t keep telling everyone that you love your dependable, beat up, old car when you really want a brand new one. Stop professing to everyone how much you love your “curves” when you really want to get in shape. And for goodness sake, stop telling people that you love being single if you really want a husband and kids.
When you are honest about the things you want, you can begin to make strides to acquire them. But, when you’re dishonest about the things you want for the sake of camouflaging the holes in your life, resentment begins to seep in and infiltrate your relationships. Some women are masters at hiding their inner resentment but most simply are not. The venom begins to slips out in casual conversations and commentary. Comments like, “oh I was going to get that pair but everyone already has them,” or “yeah that’s a cute bag but I don’t do labels.” As if!
Jealousy and envy are as common as black skirts in the world of LA women. You’ll never truly conquer these feelings to the point of no return but you can learn to deal with them in healthier ways that don’t compromise your friendships. A lot of this comes with maturity but maturity isn’t always guaranteed. So, for those of us who have a good handle on it, we need to be patient with our gal pals who aren’t quite there yet. Not everything is personal, regardless of how personal it might feel. Jealousy is abundant, understanding isn’t. We’ve all been there and we all know it’s not possible to be happy for everyone all the time. A jealous woman makes tiny strides to take the gloss off someone else’s accomplishments in order to keep from exposing the lack thereof in her own life. It’s just that simple but you’re better than that, so BE better than that!
Friend OR Boyfriend?
Apply the Golden Rule…
Are you dating someone that isn’t exactly your boyfriend but definitely falls well outside of the “friend zone”? Is there a “special guy” in your life or someone that you’re “dealing with”? If so, is the special guy you’re dealing with your man or just your man-friend? So often in my dating life people constantly ask me to define my relationships. Am I dealing with the guy I met in DC? What ever happened with that hot guy who had all the tattoos? Newsflash: Not all relationships and above average friendships must turn into something. However, if you are trying to turn your friendship with a guy into something more, then you need to get clear on what’s what.
Everyone’s approach to this is different but daters around the world usually fall into one of two camps. Some women are what I like to call “first-date-direct.” That is, most of their cards are put on the table on the first date. These women make it clear that they will not be strung along for some indefinite time-share that may or may not materialize a relationship. While this behavior is often seen as intimidating, these ladies seldom face the question of friend or boyfriend.
Others are more flexible and prefer to simply “see where it goes.” This is probably the most common approach as most women perpetually wait for the other shoe to drop anyway. Of course, the ambiguity involved in this approach can be a bit un-nerving. If you’re not careful, you can easily fall into a vortex of back and forth conversations that still lead to the land of gray area.
Regardless of which camp you find yourself in, it’s not brain science. If you find yourself wanting more than friendship, look at the situation with both eyes and simply observe. Don’t over crowd your brain with possible explanations for someone’s behavior (or lack thereof). For example, if you’re dating someone who constantly reinforces the fact that you’re not in a relationship, take it as a sign that there’s a good chance your situation isn’t going to blossom into a relationship. When you’re single and dating, apply the golden rule and treat the people you deal with as they treat you. Do not go above and beyond in hopes that this person will reciprocate your actions. Do not arrange for special things if special things have never been arranged for you. Above all, do not make yourself widely available to someone who only makes themselves available on their terms. This is how people get hurt.
Los Angeles is filled with beautiful women who are always going to be younger, smarter or more successful than you. This isn’t your concern. As a matter of fact, this actually works in your favor because single men (and women) are typically looking for their best option. Men don’t want to settle for a simply great girl if there’s a younger, more attractive girl with whom they might have a chance. You’ll want to weed these men out of your dating circle as quickly as possible. If you don’t, they’ll only take up time that could be better spent on your better matches. Believe it or not, there are many frustrated, good men in the world who are looking for their most compatible match, as opposed to the hottest woman that will tolerate them.
I know this seems basic but applying the Golden Rule in dating has never disappointed me. This Friday, for example, I could choose to spend my time with the guy I hear from only just enough to make sure that I don’t erase his number from my iPhone. Or, I could spend my time with the guy who has read every blog I’ve ever written, asks me if I want to grab dinner and a movie every weekend, and makes an effort to get more involved in my life every time I see him. I’ll give you one guess where my Friday will be spent…
Is it OK to Loan Your Boyfriend Money?
I’m sure a plethora of scenarios are running through your head in which you are probably trying to justify when it’s ok to loan money to your man. Of course there are those who are actually calculating the hundreds if not thousands of dollars they’ve already lost to the “I-can-do-bad-all-by-myself” college fund. Where was Tyler Perry when you needed him? Hopefully you’re not THAT girl but I’m 98% sure you know a girl who fits this description. Let’s face it, we live in Los Angeles, home of the designer $32 Kobe beef burger, there’s no such thing as petty cash in this town. Even if you are the breadwinner in a relationship, a personal line of credit extended from your checking account to your man is not a great idea. In fact, ESPECIALLY when you are the breadwinner in the relationship, loaning your man money is not a great idea. I’m not saying that we (women) should not support our significant others in a time of need. What I am saying is that it’s tricky.
Now, there’s nothing I love more than contributing in a relationship. If I have the means to contribute and make a good vacation GREAT, then damn it I want a personal concierge, a beach view and bottomless dirty martinis throughout my stay. There’s NOTHING wrong with putting your finances together to purchase something awesome whether it be a great vacation or a great single family home. There’s NOTHING wrong with buying your man a nice and/or expensive birthday present. Financial collaboration between two people who have it like that is sexy. However, the moment you start reaching into your pockets to help support a boyfriend out of necessity, you might as well start tossing out your sex drive like spare change.
The difference is this: When we have a man in our life who spoils us and provides without being asked to, we naturally want to reciprocate and let him know that he’s appreciated. BUT, when we have a man in our life that is struggling and HIS finances become a drain on YOUR finances, we begin to raise a Kardashian eyebrow. After all, if a man can’t provide for himself how will he be able to handle the rest of the grown up things in life?
Truthfully it’s not even about the loan. It’s about the notion that you have now become the man in the relationship. You now have power that you didn’t ask for in lieu of the security that most women crave. Plus, when your inner loan shark begins to emerge and you see him buying Play Station games instead of making good on his debt, you start to realize that you’ve just adopted a grown man.
THE BRANJELINA EFFECT
Missing Person: Former BFF, five-foot-five, brown hair, brown eyes, substantial addiction to low-rise skinny jeans. If found, please let her know that she’s totally gay for blowing off the only person in the world who will listen to her woes should her latest man accessory bail for the girl next door.
Well it finally happened. After all those late night jaunts to the Good Bar, Bar Marmont, Bar Chloe, and Vinoteca, the new Wine bar downtown, your BFF has landed a man. Are you jealous? A little yes but that’s not the reason that you’re so upset. You’re upset because it seems that your friendship had an expiration date this whole time. No nutritional facts, no warnings, no sell by date other than the unspoken understanding that when your wing man finds a new love interest it’s time to throw out the Friday night routine and role solo. Why does this happen you ask? Well, because the reality of momentary, mind-blowing orgasms is much more interesting than the mere prospect of momentary, mind-blowing orgasms.
Now all of your plans, including GIRL’S night out, will inevitably include HIM and you’ll never get to speak candidly until she feels like venting about his latest ambiguous text message. Of course there will be excuses upon excuses when your amigo doesn’t feel like hurting your feelings and flakes on your awesome concert tickets in order to stay in and eat saturated fat take-out while watching Lord of the Ring’s re-runs with her new beau.
Unfortunately this is one of the annoying rites of passage for any friendship. Stay diligent and always incorporate your friend into your plans whether she rsvp’s yes or no. After all, friends don’t let friends lose themselves in relationships. However, when you find that your friend is caught up in couple bliss don’t forget that you too will one day be the girl dipping out of happy hour to hang out with Mr. Right now.
One Day it will all Make Sense…
Romantic epiphanies typically happen on the big screen. We’ve all seen the story, a girl sits on the couch eating a bowl of cereal, watching TV, pondering life, and then a commercial comes on. Suddenly she realizes that the man of her dreams has been delivering her mail for the last two years. How perfect, the man who has been consistent through rain, sleet, and snow is actually “The One.” What’s even better is that she never knew he felt the same way. Yeah, it totally happens like that in real life (NOT)!!! It has probably never, in the history of dating, happened like that. So maybe you don’t get the sign from above, the voice from within or the magical commercial on TV but one day something beyond the realm of basic understanding does click. One day you will realize that the cool, elusive, emotionally unavailable guy that you’ve planned your entire fantasy future with is NOT “The One.” All of a sudden your expectations shift and these characteristics are no longer attractive to you. The universe aligns and you understand why all the “nice guys” are MARRIED and all the A-holes are driving nice cars or trying desperately to buy one.
The moment you decide to start taking yourself seriously and begin placing real-time deadlines on the acquisition of the things you hold most dear (be it marriage, kids, or career) is the moment you begin to see what a time suck the wrong guy actually is. All the time and energy spent waiting for Mr. Wrong to morph into Mr. Perfect coupled with the “learning experience” of the imminent collapse of such relationships could be better spent on much more productive activities such as washing your hair, or stockpiling emergency earthquake items. What I’m saying is, time spent doing absolutely anything else would be more productive than dating the wrong guy. Luckily the universe doesn’t typically hold bad dating decisions against you. Luckily you can make oodles of noodle head dating decisions in your twenties so that once your thirties approach you already mean business, the business of serious inquiries only.
I know this concept seems like a bit of a ruse but trust and believe that your first instinct is 99.8% correct. If there’s a void of trust or in your understanding of how someone feels about you, be accountable for the fact that you’ve always known and somehow settled for this behavior (whether on purpose or by accident). Approach your future relationships as you would a business deal. Look at the presentation, read through the background and figure out if it’s best to move forward. Make a 2-5 year plan of where you see your life going romantically and revisit that plan often, after all it is YOUR plan. Don’t leave everything to chance and horoscopes. Be present and the rest will start to fall into place.
A Lady Never Tells: But a Groupie Just Might…
Once in while, LAG feels the need to make a public service announcement. So, today’s topic boys and girls is “The LA Groupie.” If the LA dating scene is known for nothing else, it should be known for its plethora of beautiful gold-diggers, also known as “groupies.” What people fail to realize about LA groupies is the magnitude to which they exist, so much so, that an entire subculture of young women groomed for groupiedom has emerged. There are TV shows, books, dating sites, and clothing stores that actually cater to the LA groupie. Heck, even entire families have publically embraced and exploited the groupie subculture, thus creating the very controversial “groupie nepotism.” You’ve seen them! They’re the ones dressed for the nightclub at basketball games, the ones standing in the front of every line at every club with a celebrity headliner, they seem to know everyone from the promoter to the bouncer to the bartender on a first name basis.
Now, Wikipedia defines the groupie as “A person who seeks emotional and sexual intimacy with some form of CELEBRITY. “Groupie” was derived from the word group, in reference to a musical group, given that the groupie phenomenon emerged from popular music groups of the 50’s and 60’s. However, the contemporary groupie is about seeking financial security and notoriety for her celebrity conquests. Today’s groupie isn’t about the mere rush and excitement of sleeping with a celeb, oh no, she means business. And, why not? Being a groupie is BIG BUSINESS!! We’ve all heard the tall tale of the video vixen turned millionaire for merely publishing the names and details of everyone she gave an “oral exam” to, industry wide. And, certainly you’re no stranger to the Celebrity-Wife reality shows where almost none of the women are actually “wives.” Don’t hate, they’re still getting a check, seemingly out of thin air at that. Granted, these women usually only get 5 minutes of fame (1/3 of the 15 minutes that real celebs get) but it does offer the smart ones a chance at some real opportunities for monetization. Sadly, few take advantage of such opportunities because few are actually smart enough to do so. You see, what drives a groupie isn’t her educated business savvy as much as her savvy for played out monogram bags and red bottom shoes that she only hears about and sees in music videos (I digress).
Now, given that LA is host to so many different types of celebrities, (movie stars, rock stars, rap stars, basketball players, football players, producers, directors, reality show stars, etc., etc.) you can only imagine the various strains of groupie that follow. Some of them may even be lurking amongst your own social circles, right under your nose. To that end, I’ve created an efficient and classifiable way to identify the LA groupie. NOTE: there are several hybrids of the categories outlined below but I felt it necessary to start with the basics, the canonical staples if you will, of the Groupie kingdom.
First off we have the “Veteran Groupie”: The Veteran groupie is the saddest groupie of them all, primarily because she is old and no one told her that her days were numbered 5 years prior. She’s at the club regularly, usually with a crew 7-10 years younger so that she can blend in appropriately. The veteran groupie has a fierce body. In fact, one only knows that she is of a more mature age when they get above her neckline. There you’ll find the over-compensated make-up that only a cougar or a clown could appreciate. However, the Veteran Groupie does pave the way for the Green Groupie (refer to the description below) also known as “Baby Groupies.” For what is a student without its teacher?
Next, we have the “Green Groupie”: Contrary to her title, the Green Groupie is not about world conservation and recycling. The Green Groupie is fertile ground, impressed by anyone on TV whether they’re in a commercial or a full feature film. The Green Groupie’s innocence is her biggest draw. Regular guys like her because they can introduce her to their friends. She technically still has girlfriend potential given that she is relatively undiscovered. Celebrity guys like her because their celebrity friends have yet to add her to their celebrity to-do list. Either way, she’s kinda doomed from the start.
Lastly, we have the “Groupie By Association”: The Groupie By Association hangs out with groupies from time to time but only long enough to be able to disengage from any rumors that could peg her as a groupie. Make no mistake! If it walks like a duck, puts on heels like a duck, and finds herself at Jamie Foxx’s house at 2am like a duck. It’s A DUCK!!! The Groupie by Association is my personal favorite because she’s clever enough to keep a day job and often vacillates between the average guy and the 2nd tier celebrity entourage guy. Either way she’s not winning, yet she presses on…
Honestly, I’m not clowning; I don’t knock anyone’s hustle. Seriously, we’ve all got a little groupie in us, gotten excited when our favorite singer or actor hit the stage. For example, one might say that I’m a Barack Obama groupie, a Cornell West groupie, or a Michael Eric Dyson groupie versus a Lil Wayne groupie, a Kanye West groupie or a Kobe Bryant groupie. Is there a distinction to be made? Maybe not, but I’ll leave it at that…
Friend Politics 101 – Rule No 2:
Sometimes One Monkey DOES Stop the Show…
Los Angeles socialites are big proponents of convenient nightlife. That is, we frequent venues that are within an assumed non-DUI driving distance where the doorman is familiar enough with your face so as not to have you waiting in line all night. However, once in a while (or once every 3-4 months) we decide to break from our local watering hole routines and follow a very specific migratory pattern (via road trip, or 1-hour plane ride on Southwest). For over the bridge and through the woods lies a magical kingdom, an enchanted forest of drinking, dancing, flirting and whatever else you can squeeze into a 48-hour window of time. Yes ladies, in case you haven’t figured it out I’m talking about VEGAS!!!! Ahhh the joys of Las Vegas… you either love it for its non-stop, high voltage, billboard party life, and cigarette smoke filled casinos or you hate it for its non-stop, high voltage, billboard party life, and cigarette smoke filled casinos.
Upon arrival it is customary to throw caution to the wind and go with the flow (especially if you’re with a group of 3 or more people). However, going with the flow also pertains to “cash flow.” Meaning, if you’re not financially in the right place to take a trip it’s probably better to stay at home, do some laundry, and figure out a game plan so as not to be left out of the next trip’s festivities. Now, this is not to say that a person of modest means can’t enjoy themselves, you don’t need to be a “Baller” to have the ultimate Vegas experience. Plenty of folks drive up to Vegas on the “Baller on a Budget” $300 dollar vacation fund ($100 for your portion of the hotel for 2 nights, $25 on the gas tank, $25 on the magnum bottle of Grey Goose for the room and the other $150 for food, entry fees, etc.). Now that we’ve covered some of the cost effective ways to “do” Vegas, can someone please explain to me how it is that one determines that they will not be paying the $20 entry fee to get into the club only after they’ve bypassed all boot camp style obstacles of the velvet rope? I mean, isn’t this an executive decision that one makes in their head well before stepping out?
For example, it’s Fourth of July Weekend in Vegas, you and your friends decide to party at Jet Nightclub in the Mirage hotel. After chopping it up with the promoter, who you met on Twitter, the seas part and all of your friends are escorted through a crowd of jealous girls saving you an hour and a half wait. You reach the front door of Jet with the understanding that everyone still has to pay the $20 cover because of the holiday weekend. Knowing this beforehand, everyone is in agreement that Jet is the spot for the evening. Fully decked in your most bedazzled Vegas mini dresses, you and your girls are ready to pay the $20 and have an awesome time and an awesome hangover.
Three of you whip out your clutch bags, $20 dollar bills wrapped tightly around your California ID’s. Faintly in the background, Queen Victoria (friend #4) starts complaining about having to pay and how she NEVER has to pay in LA and how she doesn’t even go out if she has to wait in line. Her complaining turns into pouting, her pouting turns to blatant refusal and there you are, faced with the prospect of having to leave one man out. Let the rationalizing begin! You don’t really know the girl, she’s a friend of a friend brought along only by default so as to cushion the costs of the Double Queen Suite you booked at the Hard Rock HRH Tower. Fully prepared to leave her to her own devices, you pretend not to notice the mini conference that she’s holding with the other two girls. As soon as you extend your cash and ID to the guard, your BFF taps you on the shoulder to inform you that friend no: 4 has no cash to get in. Your first instinct is to grab your BFF and head for the entry. Of course, the inevitable domino effect, she feels bad for friend #3 who will be stuck with friend #4 at the Golden Nugget Bar and Grill fending off local degenerate gamblers. A rain cloud of disappointment appears as you’ve come so far only to have to turn around and do the walk of shame back down the red carpet. You feel retarded, like the static rewind button on a VHS tape, because SOMEONE decided that it wasn’t “worth it” to spend the necessary entry fee to party like a wannabe rock star. Of course there are always other spots to go to in Vegas but everyone knows that the spot you didn’t get into is the spot that everyone will be talking about the next day…Womp…Womp!
In LA, every woman revels in the glorious victory of the FREE DRINK. The free drink is social-scene Darwinism at its finest, the ultimate badge of honor for “Survival of the Prettiest.” The free drink not only validates a woman’s efforts in hair, clothing, and make-up selection, it also sets her apart from the less fortunate souls who did not make it past the process of natural selection (mean girl smirk). While the ritual of the free drink may seem a bit trifling to some, unarguably no better feeling exists than that of the accomplishment derived from public displays of infatuation by a complete stranger. To put it plainly, the free drink makes you feel like the SH*&!!! As you mix it up with your pretend 5-minute boyfriend, for that brief moment in time, you are the bar Prom Queen. However, there are rules to this ish. The free drink does come with a healthy dose of fine print; a print so fine that it seemingly only exists in theory. It would be awesome if we could get SOME form of heads up like…”Tonight on Eyewitness News: We bring you the breaking story of the 1-drink Stalker on the loose. He’s been spotted in local LA bars and clubs hanging around dark corners with 2 free drink tickets and a GPS tracking device. Don’t be fooled by his generosity and harmless conversation! For once you’ve accepted the complimentary Grey Goose N Red Bull Martini, he will self magnetize to the bottom of your glass playing interference to all of your normal guy prospects for the rest of the evening.”
Of course, no such warning signs exist. Shortly after your two best girlfriends find male distractions and disappear into their respective conversations, the 1-Drink stalker is plotting his descent when you’re at the bar alone, at your most vulnerable. Just as you manage to get the waiters attention a mediocre looking man will approach and pay for your drink. Mildly impressed, you’ll entertain some conversation. Five minutes in and you’ll know you aren’t interested but you’ll extend the full courtesy 15 minutes before ditching him to do your final walk around in the bar. As you ease your way off the bar stool you’ll see him grab his drink off the bar in an attempt to escort you to your intended destination. You figure you’ll take the easy way out and hit the ladies room. Hopefully you’ll see one of your girlfriends so you can pretend to be in one of the deepest conversations of your life thus bypassing the 1-Drink stalker. To no avail, he’ll be standing right at the base of the ladies room exit (argggghhhh)!!!
What contemporary science has concluded is that there is no sure-fire way to politely extract one’s self from the clutches of the 1-Drink stalker (outside of leaving the venue all together). Fake numbers, one-word answers, the look of absolute disinterest simply won’t cut it. Thus, much like the Christian based slogan for abstinence, The Best Drink is No Drink if you want to avoid the lurking annoyances of the 1-Drink stalker.
Till Death Do Us Part: Not as long as it used to be…
The average man in LA confronts two primary fears when he contemplates the long road down the altar of commitment. The first is the concept of accomplishment. He asks himself questions. Am I financially stable? Have I traveled the world, seen all it has to offer? Am I man enough to be someone’s husband/provider/father? And, most importantly, have I sampled enough women (sexually)? The latter is highly subjective and contingent upon the border of one’s imagination/fantasy world.
The second primary fear is that of time. A lot happens over the span of several years with respect to our values, outlook on life and overall preferences (both intellectually and aesthetically). But, what men (and women alike) think about most is: Can I deal with this person till death do us part?
Let us examine this further, shall we? The average man in Los Angeles gets married at around age 35 (give or take a couple years). While the bureau of statistics would have us believe that LA men marry at a median age of 28, I strongly beg to differ. It would seem that it is during this time that most men, and women alike, are settled within their respective careers or well on their way to it. They find a suitable host with whom they can share their hopes, dreams, vacations, and future offspring. But, simple mathematics determines that there really isn’t much time to actually accomplish this. Ideally, a married couple would seek to enjoy the fertile years of their marriage, also known as the “honeymoon phase,” usually spent traveling and actually enjoying the fruits of their union (both fiscally and emotionally).
So, how much time do we carve out in order to solidify our identity as a couple? How much time do we set aside to raise a family? Speaking as a 30+ year old, I often wonder about that myself. Will I get to celebrate a 50-year anniversary? Have the days of such traditions been reduced to the fading residual folklore of our grandparents?
This is not necessarily a bad thing but realistically speaking, the energy of a 40 year-old is not that of a 30 year-old. And, when we begin our families at roughly this age, how much time do we have to actually be in the lives of our children? My mom had me at age 22. She will be around when I’m well into my 50’s (God willing). But, I can’t necessarily say the same thing about myself.
So here it is, sorry to be the bearer of bad news. 30 is NOT the new 20, and 40 is NOT the new 30. This is merely a slogan created by Viagra and all of its constituents to propagate one of the most antiquated myths of our lifetime, The Fountain of Youth.
The Fizzle, The Spark, The Connection….
Cute guy, moderately expensive dinner, awesome conversation….a week goes by…. nothing. Just a serendipitous meeting of two people, of whom, neither is actually convinced of genuine chemistry. I mean, at the end of the night could you see yourself crawling up his pant legs, unfastening his Levi’s and feasting on his body? That’s really the golden apple question. If not, the fizzle is surely upon the horizon.
The fizzle: a mutual disinterest in the exertion of further efforts to facilitate the second date, an unwillingness to move forward in the dating game. The fizzle is interesting because its unspoken mutuality is almost always felt on both parts, OBVIOUSLY, otherwise it would move forward. You see, even if only one person is unsure, the other person will, at the very least, lend themselves to another experience (if only just to validate their assumptions or play out their intentions). But, it just so happens that the fizzle can only occur when both people are disinterested. Of course, this is all in good fun which is why the fizzle is strangely unoffensive.
It’s as if the universe swallows a person whole, to the point whereby the sight of their number draws a blank hole in your phone with absolutely zero emotional attachment. What’s awkward is when one of you accidentally calls the other, like “damn I meant to call James not Jason.” Then Jason calls back and says “Did someone call Jason?” And in your mind you’re like “no retard I meant to call James,” then he’s like, “well who is this?” Of course the logical thing to do at this point is create some fake name and hang up as quickly as possible. But, you aren’t quite sure if he asked because he genuinely doesn’t’ know who you are or simply because he’s systematically humiliating you via cell phone to stroke his own ego for two minutes. Wouldn’t it be easier to say, “It’s me, the girl you went to dinner with 3 months ago and I accidentally called you instead of my friend Jason….that’s all.” But who actually believes that? Everyone inevitably reads sooooo much more into it than that. Sighhh..…exhausted, yes, and, that’s just the fizzle…
Friend Politics 101
Traci is my wingman. We hang out all the time. But, lately I’d been keeping her out more nights than she typically tolerated. So, when I called her to let her know my boy was throwing a “private party” for Lebron James at the W Hotel in Westwood, Traci wasn’t having it. “Girl we went out Friday, Saturday and Tuesday, I’ve literally exhausted every rendition of my cutest outfits, and I haven’t worked out in like three days because it takes me two hours to blow dry, curl, and style my hair, give it rest mama!” Who me? Not a chance, not tonight! Didn’t she know that there were WINNERS at the W Hotel in Westwood? I mean, what do you think the W stands for? WINNERS of course!!
With Traci out of commission there were a few things to consider. Friend Politics 101: I am only as fly as my crew. There’s no sense in me getting cute and wasting my new YSL pumps if there’s a duck in my squad (yes a duck, quack…quack). What I mean is… if I show up to an exclusive event with two other girls and one of them happens to be…shall we say… “challenged” in certain areas, then I’m probably not getting in.
Now I know what you’re thinking, that’s some real shallow LA shit right? Right! Of course it’s shallow, but it’s also the truth ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to my world! I didn’t make the rules, don’t shoot the messenger. Los Angeles social scene etiquette dictates that if I walk into a line looking fantastic and I throw up my perfectly manicured fingers motioning that there are two us, right away the bouncer notices me, walks over and says “who you with?” If I’m with a girl that looks like a hot, steamy, Avatar-mess, I am most likely not getting into the damn event (or Berry’s Pizza Cafe for that matter). And guess what folks? I didn’t come out for all this! I did not get all dressed up only to have to walk the hall of shame and complain about it later at Mel’s Diner (where every tranny is welcome). So, I devised a plan of attack.
I realize you may be asking yourself, “What constitutes a fat girl? Am I a fat girl?” To which I answer, if you have to ask….
You see, one night, I walked into the SLS Hotel bar with my dear friend Natalie. Natalie is the flyest obese person you ever met. I mean, she is gorgeous, and if we lived in Nebraska she’d be the Belle of the ball. But we DON’T live in Nebraska. We live in LA, home of the size 2 and the super-model diet (only 1 finger required). Anyway, Natalie looked absolutely stunning in her knock-off DVF, Lane Bryant wrap dress circa 2009, yunno, the navy, exaggerated cheetah print. As we entered the bar we overheard two guys loudly whispering as we walked by, “Yo man, I can’t even front on Mrs. Piggy-Beyonce over there, I’d F – her all day long.” Paralyzed by my inability to calculate whether or not Natalie been complemented or insulted, I did what I do best and gave them my signature snub nose indicating that, while we did overhear the 12 year-old banter, it’s impossible to be insulted by anyone wearing Air-Force One’s to the SLS. I sure told them, or so I thought, until I glanced over at Nat who looked as though the wind had been knocked out of her.
I immediately ordered two Grey Goose and Seven-Up’s for the table given that the night had already gotten off to a rocky start. However, to no avail, Natalie wasn’t in the mood for conversation. Now all Natalie wanted to talk about was her thyroid problem. And, now Natalie didn’t want to hit up Industry for dancing later, like we’d originally planned, because she had to get to work early in the morning. I felt bad for Natalie, I really did, because one ridiculous comment ruined our entire evening and I could not make it better no matter how hard I tried.
I began to get angry with her but I didn’t let on to it. I couldn’t let her see me be frustrated with her weight problem (even though I truly was) because I couldn’t live with her feeling any worse than she already did. I wanted to tell her that if she didn’t like her reality she needed to change it. I wanted to tell her that her thyroid had nothing to do with the three cheeseburgers she religiously sipped down during her lunch hour every day. But, instead, I pretended to be interested in her latest shoe purchase and her pretend boyfriend who was always out of town and whom none of us had ever met because that’s what friends do.
THE NUMBERS RULE; It Doesn’t Count If…
One night over coffee and dessert two girlfriends, Maya and Alene, both age 25, got together to gossip about Maya’s new roommate, Karin. Maya’s new roommate was 28 years old and had slept with approximately 30 different men (give or take a couple). Both ladies were intrigued with Maya’s roomie and her ability to articulate this number with an air of accomplishment, so sophisticated and mature. But, both ladies, judgments firmly in place, still felt that Karin’s numbers were too high for comfort. Too high, that is, until they got on the topic of their own number of shelved sexual partners.
Alene whipped out a notepad and began to draw a line for every sexual partner that she could recall. Every time she hit five she started a new cluster…all of sudden she was on cluster number 4. “Maya, I couldn’t have slept with 19 guys already, I’m a whore,” Alene said with quantitative conviction.
Maya hastily interjected, “Alene, I’m on number 17 so I’m not far behind you and I’m NOT a whore. F*%$K, I honestly don’t even remember some of their names. How did this happen?”
Maya began to sort through her personal catalog in a comical Sherlock Holmes fashion. “Well, what about that guy who was only 4 inches (hard), he doesn’t count right?” “Don’t be stupid Maya,” said Alene, “but that guy I slept with in Miami last summer only lasted like 2 minutes and then he fell asleep so that guy REALLY doesn’t count.” “Wait a minute Alene, he counts!!! You remembered all the dirty details,” Maya retorted feistily. “2 minutes of details does not equal dirty details,” said Alene.
This was getting ugly and time consuming. Faced with the prospect of having to weed though future prospects in the same manner, the girls decided to create some universal rules to live by, thus, enabling them to erase certain guys from their inventory (like an etch a sketch). The rules are:
1. If the sexual encounter is under 3 minutes, it doesn’t count
2. If the fun stick is under 4 inches (hard), it doesn’t count
3. If you can’t remember his name, it doesn’t count
4. If his name is Chris Hall, it doesn’t count
5. If you were too drunk to remember, it doesn’t count
6. If It’s over 5 years ago, it doesn’t count (unless you want it to)
Now, a blog wouldn’t be a blog without the author’s two cents. So ladies, I’ll leave you with this to chew on. If you want to keep your numbers low, think of your lady goods as a shiny new car. Every time you lease it out, typical wear and tear is to be expected. Don’t let these boys run your miles up unless they intend to purchase. If a guy isn’t stepping up to the plate, put your car back on the lot and only let serious buyers take a test drive. And, in case you didn’t know, serious buyers usually put down a card, Ya heard!!! (j/k, not really).