Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Routine

For those of you who wonder what I do with my time…

DAILY:
-Brush teeth/Wash face.
-Decide if I’m gonna go out...
If yes:
-I shower. [I have a whole routine for showering. Is that crazy or what?!]
-Pick an outfit and get dressed. Sometimes I'm dressed and then I'll start all over because it doesn't look right. Pain in the ass for real.
-Do hair and makeup.
-Organize my bag [ie: I don't bring sunglasses with me at night].
-If I’m meeting someone I text them and say I’m on my way, and head out the door.
If not:
-Job search/do research [for an upcoming project].
-Check e-mail.
-Read new articles/blogs. Sometimes comment.
-Think of ways to conquer the world.
-Brainstorm about blog topics, potential 9-5’s, how to achieve what I want out of life.
-Talk to or text at least 5 people.
-IM like crazy.
-Dodge creditor phone calls.
-Order or make dinner.
-Late night chat with my buddy or on the phone with friends talking about “life”.

WEEKLY:
-Leave the house once or twice to do errands: Library, post office, laundry, groceries.
-Leave the house 3-4 times a week to meet with friends, hang out, sometimes interview or audition for gigs.
-Dust [my house is super dusty. It's insane.]
-Change my invisalign aligner [yay for perfect teeth!]
-Stress about my life.

MONTHLY:
-Begrudgingly pay rent.
-Shop [this used to be a weekly thing]. Sometimes it's a lip gloss, other times a dress.
-Get in touch with my family. We don't talk much obviously.
-Stress even more acknowledging how fast time flies.
-Someone random will hit me up.
-Make 1-2 new friends.

It’s kind of blah lately. Especially since I'm between jobs and hate my roommates and where I live. I don’t work out, I don’t really go for walks, I don’t do too many exciting things on my own [I take comfort in the fact that no one really does]. Either way, I am hoping to change all that soon. Big things are coming my friends! [I really want to share but I’ve learned it's best to share exciting news when things are well under way.]

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Gaga

It is said that she rose to fame the old-fashioned way, playing in various underground clubs in the New York circuit, schlepping around the Lower East Side with her friends, dabbling in drugs and debauchery, trying her hand at go-go dancing and convincing everyone who came across her path that she was somebody important. [“You have the ability to self-proclaim your own fame.”] Mission accomplished my lady.

Let’s talk about the genius that is this platinum-haired pixie. I for one do not believe in celebrity adoration [nor celebrities as role models], but this girl… this girl has got me thinking. There is something so intrinsically special about her, an inherent swag so undeniable I can’t help but be enamored by her brilliance and stage presence. She’s only 2 years older than me and she already has a platinum debut album with three #1 singles. She is extremely focused and very intelligent [with her head on right], and for that she will succeed.

I love that she’s so proud to be a New Yorker that she mentions its influence on her in almost every interview, and that she talks about it with the same pride and fervor most NYC rappers do. I love that she’s not afraid to come off intelligent and witty and in charge. I love that she calls out interviewers who ask her dumb questions and veer onto irrelevant topics. I love that she cares about her fans so much and that putting on good shows for them is so vital in her world. I love how she doesn’t give a shit about the haters, heck she’s so focused she probably doesn’t even realize they exist. I love that her embodiment of a “performance artist” is immensely serious for her and she’s not interested in playing games or chasing fame like so many other young adults in the business.

Her style is different and gets her noticed. She’s an admitted exhibitionist, and I think it’s safe to say I’ve seen her ass more than I’ve seen mine. True story. Her ambition and confidence are profound and inspiring. She’s extremely culturally aware; not just of art from this era, but art, artists and designers from previous eras. She does her own thing and she doesn’t apologize for it. It’s almost as if she’s a fairy tale princess come to life, that’s how I like to think of her. A fairy tale princess who alludes to poking people's faces and refers to a disco stick as a euphemism for male anatomy.

Speaking of her tunes, Lady Gaga’s music is beat driven pop, stuff that when played in the club, most could [and would] actually dance to. She’s very talented with piano skills under her belt and a vocal range reminiscent of huskier voiced songstresses. She has caught some flack from people who can’t understand why she hadn’t released something with more substance, more depth instead. Understandably, the album is mostly fluff, with catchy lyrics and a pretty little melody here and there – but Lady Gaga knows what she’s doing. She has stated many times that her music is soulless; it is pop music about the underground party lifestyle, about seeking or attaining ‘The Fame’. And what is fame if not soulless? On top of that… Let’s be real here. You don’t get three #1 hits talking about philosophical, deep hullaballoo. Not in the U S of A. Anyway – I hope I can make it to her and Kanye’s show this fall. It’s gonna be bananas. [EDIT: I saw her in concert in January 2010 - it was one of the most fun-filled experiences of my entire life.]


Lady Gaga has confirmed what I happened to already suspect: Pimpin’ is not easy – but it sho is fun!!!

Monday, July 13, 2009

Clueless II

Encounter by Cuson

Last night, a fella approached me on the subway platform as I was waiting for my train home. I was thrown off because not only did I have my signature don’t-talk-to-me face on, but I was nose deep into my Lucky magazine. His face and his approach weren’t bad but his attire and personality were. Upon closer inspection, I noticed the gold grill on his upper row of teeth, a slew of poorly drawn tattoos on his arms and shorts that were falling off his ass. As I begrudgingly chatted with him, he revealed he was on his way to the “studio” since he was a rapper/singer. When I heard that, I wanted to roll my eyes into the back of my head, but before I could, he asked for my number. I told him I don’t give it out [new rule!] and he proceeded to ask me four more times. I eventually asked him why he didn’t just give me his number and he says "I don’t have a phone." Mack fail.

A few weeks ago I was concerned I had hit a new brick wall in the dating realm. I was invited to a BBQ not long ago, and I noted that the hottest guy there turned out to be married. It’s a different ballgame now ladies and gentleman; I’m getting old and men are now husbands - for better or for worse. Then, another absolute hottie I connected with on the street awhile back totally disappeared on me. When he got in touch a week later, he offered this as an explanation: He was talking to a girl for a few months now, and meeting me had thrown him off his game. He explained that the night he met me, he was just looking for sex, but talking to me surprised and deeply intrigued him. And although he had mentally been wrestling between she and I all week, he decided he’d continuing pursuing things with her [she was older with money, and he was a young, broke kid]. All this after trying to get my attention on the street twice, chatting me up on the sidewalk for about 45 minutes and slyly stealing my number when he was innocently “looking at my phone”. I was ready for him to pull up in front of my house so I could egg his silly ass, but in the end I just let the frustration fade out. What have I learned from this? That hot men cannot be trusted and you can’t sleep on them either. I convinced myself that the next time I saw a ring-less mega hottiel I was running full speed at him... just to punch him in the face. I’m just sayin.

Although the male race is generally clueless as all get-out, I’ve noticed women doing a few unsavory things as well. Granted, when I’m alone I wear my frump face like it’s going out of style, but that’s only because it serves as a form of protection. No one bothers me when I have my frump face on; it’s my shield of armor. Anyway, here are some of my tips for the ladies:
  • All that super trendy, off the runway shit you see in women's magazines? That’s for impressing other women. Men just want to see you in something pretty and simple that fits your body well. Some men really appreciate female style and can recognize various designers… but they are often of questionable sexuality.
  • Stop snarling. There’s no reason “Fuck off!” or the like should be the first words you utter to someone after they’ve said something relatively nice to you. It only makes you look juvenile and jaded and bitter. Now I understand why some men get off thinking we’re crazy bitches.
  • Try not to become a giggle factory. Give them eye contact. [I also like to keep my hands to myself during the first encounter.] Be friendly, frank and firm, but warm. It’s a hard combo to get down pat, but once you have it, you’re gold. Email me if you need tips!
  • As per my new rule, don't feel pressured to freely give out your number. I feel that being selective cuts down on the amount of jerks you let into your life. [One idiot I gave my number to turned out to be a verbal abuser and seemed to only want me around as an accessory.] It’s so much better to take their number, think about it, call them blocked [if need be] and take it from there. I worry that once some guys get smitten with you they never really go away. And who wants some lame-o from 6 months ago continually hitting you up to “hang out”? Not I. [Although it happens to me all the time!]
  • Ladies, ladies, ladies! Mind the hair on your head. Bad hair [ie: ugly, frazzled, tri-color] is a turn off. I don't know why, but it is! I once heard a woman say there's only three things a woman should spend lots of money on: shoes, bags and your hair. I think she may have had a point there.
     
  • And last but not least, no one likes a prissy bitch. Period. The end.

And just for kicks:


Best compliment of the week: "You have a very classic face. You could be a silent film star." 

Best pick-up line of the week: "You like men?!” 

Worst pick-up line of the week: The guy who introduced himself to me and my girlfriend by calling me pretty and then proceeding to ask for her number. You don’t hit on a pair of friends asshole, we are not turned on! 

Best approach: The guy who kept a watchful eye on me all night at Bar 13 and approached me as he was leaving. Sounds stalkerish, but it really wasn’t.

Remember to always use a fake name if you feel uncomfortable, and if worse comes to worst, get close to him like you’re gonna tell him a secret, and then knee that motherfucker in the balls! Yeah!

Sunday, July 12, 2009

Wonderland


I am officially a nightlife whore. I went out Friday night with my ever adorable  girlfriend and we finagled our way into this cheap spot near Union Square. The place was dark, slightly gaudy, had a rooftop with views of nada and smelled faintly of incense/old beer. There were some big pluses though: we had room to dance [despite almost everyone being on the floor], we were left alone, the crowd seemed low-key, fun and cool, and there was cool air blasting right above us. We settled into a room on the second floor because the DJ was spinning what I have now dubbed as: Jungle House Music. We tucked our things in a corner and literally boogied for two hours straight. I persisted in showing off despite my sandals rubbing the skin off my toes and break-dancers inadvertently pushing us off the dance floor.

They had a little circle going on at one point, with various clowns getting in the middle to show us what they were working with. Why some guy tried to push me into the spotlight talking about “You belong in there...”?! I was like ‘Listen mister, I know I can boogie but I do not need the added attention and the extra fans. Be easy.’ [In actuality I told him “Me?! Oh nooooooo. Not me!” while waving my hands a la Tony Yayo. I try not to unleash my wit and get into conversations with most strangers lest they fall in love.] When the second DJ failed to live up to the first we decided to give it a rest, and I stepped out of there high off life, with some guy’s number and with my makeup surprisingly intact.

We stopped for pizza afterward [where I had very bad customer service for the first time in my life and was forced to chomp through a very burned Sicilian. Forced I say!!!], and then another of my friends met up with us. My dancing partner decided to call it a night soon after and I stayed around with my the  other friend as we chatted up a stranger at another pizza shop. Why did my ears perk up when I heard this man say he had gone to The Griffin last week? [Nightlife. Whore.] We then went to Union Square where we had coffee and I watched as my friend got some temp body art done. After that, we decided to go the South Street Seaport to watch the sun rise. We missed it, but it was quite soothing sitting near the water in the bright sun chatting much about nothing. After that we decided to walk. And walk and walk and walk. We walked all the way from the Seaport to Union Square with various pit stops in between. We even sat in Washington Square Park for a bit and I got a French lesson – Qu’est-ce que tu penses de mon blog?

A few things I’ve learned about the nightlife so far:

  • Always carry cash!!! Not only do you need cash in order to pay for covers, but it’s especially useful when buying drinks. Bartenders are shady, I realized that the girl who made me a rum and coke tonight tripled the tip I initially left her. Next time I see that bitch, she's gonna catch it. No question.
  • If you’re a big mover and shaker like me, wear comfortable shoes. Nothing’s worse than nursing a blister when a Biggie song comes on. Or being unable to run when a rapist is chasing you [I’m just sayin!] If you don’t have comfortable heels, pad those bitches up!
  • Don’t dress like a desperate prostitute, unless you are a desperate prostitute; then you have no choice. [Pick either tits, or legs to show off. Showing your ass is never an option. Whores!]
  • Don’t be mean/rude to the patrons or the people employed there. If you treat them good, they will usually do the same.
  • Walk away from drunk people. Always.
  • Speaking of drunk people, don’t get sloshed. It’s so unattractive, plus your friends will resent you for ruining their night and making them babysit your sorry ass. I might just let someone lay in their own vomit so they could learn their lesson. That's just how I get down. Bottom line, be an adult. [One you could be proud of!]
  • This is especially for the girls: Don’t stray from your friends too much or too often. I’m not saying you should be attached at the hip [how are you supposed to 'drop it like it's hot' like that?] but you should try to keep each other in eyesight. Protect each other!
The party is not over my friends. "I socialize like it's my job." I will most certainly have more stories to come. Until then…!

Remember to have fun and if someone at a club wants to fight you; smack them in the face with your high heel or run.