Posts Tagged ‘what do you do for a living’
The BIG RED Beauty Pageant…
The Big RED Beauty Pageant…
Legend has it that… “Valentine was a priest who served during the third century in Rome. When Emperor Claudius II decided that single men made better soldiers than those with wives and families, he outlawed marriage for young men. Valentine, realizing the injustice of the decree, defied Claudius and continued to perform marriages for young lovers in secret. When Valentine’s actions were discovered, Claudius ordered that he be put to death.”
Everyone knows that Valentine’s Day is the biggest chocolate-teddy-bear-lingerie conspiracy on the planet (unless you’re actually in a relationship, in which case, IT ROCKS-HELLO!!!!!). SO, why do we set aside an entire day to celebrate the lost art of actually loving someone? Well…maybe…. it’s because in the land of LA power couples, celebrity 48-hour marriages, happy-ending massage parlors, match.com, baby momma drama, dead-beat dads and 5-minute speed dating, it’s kinda nice to take a day to acknowledge simple, true, romanticized, story-book, elusive, slash-your-tires-if-you-cheat-on me, psychotic ex-girlfriend, by-any-means-necessary, good old fashioned, LOVE.
Now, you may be asking yourself “How does one celebrate the Valentine’s Day in the city of Angels (and Desperate Hip-Hop Basketball Housewives)?” Well it’s simple…think of Valentine’s Day in Los Angeles like a BIG RED beauty Pageant. Women get to parade around town all dressed up in their bestest date-night dress, make dinner reservations and with significant other firmly in tote, say the world, “Yes world, I’m PRETTY and this man’s willingness to spend 3 times the usual cost on dinner tonight proves that.” Well, maybe not specifically, but you get the picture.
For starters let’s examine the wonderful phenomenon of women’s lingerie…while everyday is Valentine’s Day in Victoria’s Secret where the red and pink shopping bags inform everyone in my office that I am indeed intimate, it seems as though on V-Day, lingerie gets just a tad more provocative (if you can imagine). And let us not forget, the shower gel, lotion and glitter body spray usually reserved for only the classiest of pole dancers. Now that we’ve got the after-dinner fantasy romp covered, that is the end of the story because all these things ultimately lead up to the after dinner fantasy romp. So let us raise a toast and infuse our lives with one extra day of bikini waxes, Brazilian blowouts and beautification in honor of celebrating the thing we gals strive to attain; good old-fashioned, lovely, lovely, LOVE.
Is it OK to Loan Your Boyfriend Money?
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.
AMBIGUOUS JOB GUY: What do you do for a living?
AMBIGUOUS JOB GUY: What do you do for a living?
We’ve all done it, fantasized up a real job behind a guy who we inherently knew had a fake job, or even worse, no job. Perhaps it was his big brown eyes that made us want to believe that he was really a “Record Producer”. Perhaps it was his eloquent speech that made us want to believe he was a “Neurosurgeon”. However, it was definitely the holes in his story, shoes, and jacket that led you to believe that he was telling lies and not just simple lies, gargantuan, designer, Dolce & Gabana lies. Yes, big fat Natalie Portman, Academy Award winning lies. As the saying goes, go big or go home!
The funny thing about Ambiguous Job Guy in Los Angeles is that he’s usually detectable by key words like, “actor,” “entrepreneur,” and my personal favorite, “Real Estate.” Immediately abort any form of conversation with a man who says that he “does real estate.” To be clear, one doesn’t actually “do” real estate. One usually sells real estate, buys it or flips it, but NEVER does anyone simply “do” real estate.
The first dead give away in spotting Ambiguous Job Guy is his schedule. If he has the time to call and text you all day long, cute as it may be, he’s probably not busy at WORK. He’s most likely at home watching paternity tests on Maury and learning how to make Diet Pepsi BBQ sauce on the cooking channel. Yes ladies, unless you’ve hit the trust-fund-baby jackpot, this guy is probably not “doing real estate.”
The second dead give away is his quality of life. Be careful, this one is tricky! Quality of life is subjective for the most part and relative to factors like age, and whatever profession Mr. Man is claiming. For example, if he’s over 35, has two roommates, no car, and pays for all of your dinners with a prepaid Visa, chances are he doesn’t “do Real Estate.”
The third and final dead give away (and I could go on), is a man’s SHOES. Aside from all other of forms of wardrobe malfunction, the shoes cannot tell a lie. The shoes are the insight into the source. The shoes are the glue that ties everything together. The shoes validate industry, versatility, and swag. For example, if a man throws on some nice fitted jeans, a fitted sweater and some fresh, clean sneakers, there’s a good chance he’s a successful person with industry flare and interesting conversation. Same outfit with Gucci loafers on and he’s probably a lawyer, or some type of corporate or finance professional. Having said that, if his sneakers are dusty, or the GG’s on his loafers are upside down, I think it’s safe to assume that he probably doesn’t “do Real Estate.”
One Day it will all Make Sense…
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.
Till Death Do Us Part: Not as long as it used to be…
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.
RELATIONSHIPS VS. RELATIONS…The Art of Casual Sex
RELATIONSHIPS VS. RELATIONS…The Art of Casual Sex
In the world of art where we celebrate the talents of those who are/were able to create unique representations of objects and people, Jackson Pollack is most remembered for his stylistic defiance of traditional lines, space, and color.
His work, a full departure from traditional imagery, provokes an onlooker to make sense of an overall abstract body of work.
Casual sex/dating in Los Angeles is a lot like a Jackson Pollack painting (metaphorically speaking). It’s contemporary and excitingly colorful. And somehow, in all its beautiful complexity, it makes sense. But, at the end of the day, it’s not something that fits nicely into everyone’s living room. And, you may find that, in retrospect, casual sex, much like a Jackson Pollack, can be just plain messy.
When you’re fresh out of a relationship, oftentimes you find yourself looking to recoup some much-needed single girl activities, of which often involve working out, dating, shopping, and sex. At some point you meet a guy and grace him with the goods and it becomes kind of…nice. You hang out back-to-back, you have the “what are we doing” conversation and establish the ground rules. But, the ground rules never seem to cover the real rules. Rules like:
1. Are you having sex with any other people?
2. How many other people are you having sex with?
3. Where do I rank on your totem pole (pun intended)
4. If we see each other out in public with other “people,” are we all good?
5. What types of privileges and exclusivity are you expecting?
It would be awesome if these five simple line items were covered, but the ground rules seem to only be articulated in stupid phrases like “we’re just having fun,” or “we’re just seeing where this goes.”
Then, outta nowhere, he disappears for a weekend. So, you make yourself unavailable for TWO weekends. He leaves you a few voicemails and after a few more missed calls, you finally decide to call and begin the dancing circus all over again.
It was so much easier back in the day when your dad sat the guy down and simply asked, “What are your intentions with my daughter?” Even though your 13 year-old self was mortified at the very thought that your dad might speak to anyone you had a crush on, it let you know where the guy stood (in all of his Junior High ambitions LOL).
The bottom line is this: We are all single, independently-driven dating anthropologists, seeking out and studying (okay yes, occasionally Facebook stalking) all reasonably suited partners. If you want to lock it down and be taken seriously by a guy, don’t give up the business before you establish a solid, mutual understanding of where you both see the relationship going. However, if you know what the deal is going in and you have no intentions of turning the pimp into the pumpkin, by all means be safe and get your Pollack on!
THE NUMBERS RULE; It Doesn’t Count If…
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).








