Friday, December 30, 2011

Meeting Anthony Mackie

The pre-remodel bar at TenJune

I planned on sitting on this story forever really, but then I thought, "Eh, what the fuck."

Spring 09 I was inside TenJune, standing between the entrance and the bar with a female friend of the moment, and I was looking down at the floor at something. A second later when I look back up to eye level, I spot this super cute brown-skinned man that I immediately recognize as Anthony Mackie walking towards me.

So what do I do?

I touch him of course.

I put my hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks and say “I know you.”
And he smiles and replies “Do you?”
And I snicker softly because I'm thinking “'I know you'?! What an odd opening line to give a famous actor.”
I disregard my thoughts, and lean in to bashfully utter “I have a little movie star crush on you.”
And he says “Well I have a pretty girl crush on you!” smiling his grand smile again.
He asks me my name and I give it, smiling sheepishly at the fact that I already know his, but he gives his anyway and adds how nice it is to meet me.
Then he puts his hand on my shoulder and tells us ladies to have a good time, and that he'll see us around. 

[I saw him about 30 minutes later when I got pulled into his VIP area, but that's neither here nor there.]

When he walked away, it hit me:

I had just met Anthony Mackie!!! 

...and I didn't make an utter and complete fool out of myself. And rather refreshingly, neither did he.

*He's one of the rare male celebrities I've ever had a crush on – mostly due to his good looks and a magazine interview I'd read long ago where he came across as intelligent, dope and down to earth aka my kryptonite.

Wednesday, December 28, 2011


I don't know where this is.

Adulthood requires a lot of navigation. And with all that navigation comes a lot of forethought.

Right now I'm navigating the beginnings of a new relationship that is most likely heading towards marriage and house-hunting and children. And right before the New Year I'm navigating past the end of one of the most energy-sucking jobs I've ever had. I'm navigating through the dawn of my actual career, attempting to mangle all the confetti-like pieces into something solid and coherent.

Shit is a lot of work. And so I'm saying all this to say that little of what I do in this life is easy. And that even when on the cusp of amazing opportunity and incredible change it can feel kind of awkward and daunting. It DOES feels exciting. But I know that there is quite the journey before me*, quite a few steps before I reach the other side of the bridge. And then once I get there, I'll surely have some other challenge to surmount, another obstacle course to expertly navigate through.

*I know it always seems like my life is an unpredictable whirlwind, like I'm always on the cusp of some dreamy and life-altering experience, but the truth is, that's how your life becomes when you're constantly going for the gold. I'm always pushing myself and stepping out of my comfort zone. Are you?

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Pretty Young Thing II

Here is part two of my newest beauty must-haves!  You can go back and take a peek at part one. Each and every one of these items are CRIZZY-CRACK-amazing, and worth every penny. Run to your nearest beauty supply store and get them now! P.S. - I like to have 2 of each product, a high and low end version, so if you see anything you like but it's out of your price range, let me know, and I may have a cheap dupe to recommend! [For the record, I have fine, soft curly hair that needs hydration and hold without crunch, and combination skin that needs moisture without oiliness; so these products should work well for people with similar skin and hair.]

-Becca Cosmetics stick foundation [I'm toffee] and mineral powder [I use Dream for medium complexions]. Not only is her shade range ridiculous [20+ shades] but the stick foundation is so creamy, sets so nicely and the mineral powder blurs away all imperfections and makes me look like I'm glowing from within.
-Tarte amazonian clay blush: Crizzy crack! All the colors are fabulous but I have it in exposed [my fave - a brownish, dusty pink] and blushing bride [at left: a sparking purple/wine that shows up fuchsia on me].
-Anything by Josie Maran: I have her 'My favorite powders palette' as well as her 'fingerpaints palette in lovely' [pictured below]. Her argan oil is also fabulous [it's great for moisturizing my sometimes oily, acne-prone skin] but you can find it at beauty supply shops for much cheaper. Her blushes [although few] are also great, and she just recently made them a bigger size. I have 'Passion', a bubblegum pink which actually shows up rather well and rather nicely on my tan skin.

-Revlon Age Defying Spa Concealer: This is a glorious, natural-looking dark circle concealer [I use '004 Medium Deep'] and is also a fantastic and cheap drugstore dupe of YSL's Touche Eclat. 
-Liplicious lip gloss: I have about every flavor but nothing is better than whipped vanilla [a pearly, nude pink].
-E.L.F Luscious Liquid Lipstick: Dirt cheap and pretty impressive, with a light minty flavor. I have 'Ruby Slippers' [a cranberry red] and Maple Sugar [a creamy nude].
-Origins Automagically Eye-lining pencil: IN MULBERRY, MY FAVORITE EYELINER OF ALL TIME!!! If you have hazel eyes, I highly urge you to get it, it will make your eyes pop! Plus you don't have to bother with sharpening it [which I love] and the other side has a smudger.
-I also love Ulta automatic Eyeliner in Deep Brown and the Urban Decay 24/7 Glide on eye pencils in Bourbon [a chocolatey brown] and Baked [a muted gold].
-Covergirl Nature Luxe Liquid Silk Foundation: Although the coverage is rather good, the staying power on this liquid/mousse foundation is poor, but I just feel like shouting them out because they carry my exact shade, #355 Suede. [PSA: BEAUTY COMPANIES, PLEASE MAKE DARKER SHADES!!!] I wear this on errand days.

-Alba Botanica Aloe and Green Tea Oil-Free moisturizer: light yet hydrating with a tropical [but initially overpowering] fragrance.  -Alba Botanica Hawaiian Papaya Facial Enzyme Mask: Leave it on for a few minutes, rinse it off and say hello to a rosy new glow.
-Alba Botanica Pineapple Enzyme Facial Cleanser: I used this cleanser during the spring and summer when my skin tends to oilier. It worked great without feeling like it was stripping my skin. Like the moisturizer this cleanser has a strong mango-ish scent.
-c. booth Koji Acid Skin Brightening Fluid: An amazing drugstore find that really does lighten any hyper-pigmentation marks. I highly recommend all products from this line.
-c. Booth derma M 36 Oxygen Infusion Cell Rejuvenation Peel: your skin will be glowing and feeling refreshed after this quick and easy [and cheap!] oxygen peel. An affordable dupe of philosophy's oxygen peel.

-Muji Containers: I hate when cleansers, body wash and the like don't come in a bottle with a pump. So I decant most of my stuff into these clear and stylish looking containers.
-Sonia Kashuk Remove eye makeup remover: This is a neat [it's purple and you have to shake up the two different components], non-greasy and effective eyeliner/mascara remover.
-L'Oreal Studio Secrets Magic Perfect Base: This is a dope, drugstore primer that actually works! It comes in a little pot, and the pink mousse formula keeps my t-zone mattified all day!
-ELF mineral infused face primer: is also a nice primer [I use it as a cheap dupe for Lancome La Base Pro primer which is ahh-mayy-zingg], and a total steal at $6.
 -E.L.F. High Definition Powder: I haven't used this yet but the reviews say it's pretty damn impressive. It comes in a quite large container, and is a nice dupe for Makeup Forever's Microfinish HD powder.

-Kenzo Amour: I love this cute scent. It's light and slightly reminiscent of play-doh [which is kind of weird] but the vanilla in it makes it a winner for me. [pictured above]
-Vaseline Fresh Moisturizing Daily Body Gel: This bad boy is 100% aloe vera and perfect for keeping your skin hydrating during sticky summer days.
-Dr. Scholls insoles and inserts: for every possible pair of shoes you own - these are a godsend for those who are on their feet all day or walk a lot [perfect for city folk]!
-Nailtek Citra - formaldehyde free nail strengthener step 2: Hands down the best nail strengthener I've ever used. I slap it on in the middle of listening to music and 2-3 days later my nails are already growing in fast! and much much stronger.
-Kiehls Superbly Restorative Argan Body Lotion: This has a lemon cake scent and once it sinks in, I can't stop adoring my beautifully gleaming and hydrated skin.
-LUSH sandstone soap: I loved this for sloughing off dead skin during the summer months, it has strong lemon scent and is made with real grains of sand.
-Korres vanilla guava shower gel: I was initially going for the guava body wash since I'm in love with the lotion, but once I saw this [being a total sucker for vanilla], I had to have it. It doesn't smell quite as luscious as I'd managed but most of the ingredients are natural and it does a decent job of making me feel clean.
-I'm big on aluminum free deodorant now, especially since it's better for you and it keeps your white shirts pit strain free, but Tom's of Maine wasn't doing it for me anymore [it left me smelling like some weird kind of rancid lemon at the end of each day], so in walks Herbal Clear Natural Deodorant [in Clear Aloe Fresh, which smells divine]. It doesn't leave me smelling all weird, and it actually keeps my pits drier than Tom ever did!

-Frederic Fekkai Protein Mask: a basic [and pricy] hair mask that coats the hair, and hydrates your strands effortlessly. [pictured above]
-L'Oreal EverPure Restorative Masque: this is the one with the pink cap. It has an odd yet lovely smell and really moisturizes the hair in just a few minutes. It is a cheap dupe of the aforementioned hair mask.
-Curls: This brand makes some delightful products for curly hair. I love the 'Curl Creme Brulee' which smells like pound cake and hydrates without weighing down [there's also a kids version 'Curly Q Custard' which is a medium hold cream and smells just as mouth-watering ], the 'Passionfruit curl control paste' [a sort of gel-cream-pomade] which I like to use on my unseemly dry ends and flyaways, and the 'Blissful Lengths Kukinut Oil Elixir' which I use in my hair in place of argan oil.
-Carols Daughter Black Vanilla leave-in conditioner: I'll admit, this spray smells wonderful but for some reason dries out my hair, so I use it on oily hair days between washes and for covering up weird city smells.
-Nexxus Exxtra Gel: Not only can this gel hold a hairstyle for hours, but I notice it tends to relax my curly hair; so the next day I have really soft, 50s movie star style waves. A definite perk.


-I know this isn't a beauty product, but I've never found a dish-washing liquid that works this well on greasy and grimy dishes. Palmolive Pure and Clear is really amazing for cutting your dish-washing time in half. It also has a refreshing green apple scent. I might even end up using it to wash my makeup brushes.
-Cotton facial pads [vs cotton balls], they soak up less product and take up less room. I store mine in a recycled round candle jar.

Happy Shopping, until the next time!

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Uptown in the Boogie Down

The scene: The Bronx, Late 2007
The question: Just how comfortable can you get with strangers?

I was on my way to Washington Heights [for the first time] to hang with a college girlfriend when I met them. A young group of about a dozen or so Hispanic kids, all from the Bronx. I was standing near them, gripping the pole for balance listening to them joke around and cajole each other and a few times, I even laughed along. And even though I was a stranger, they accepted my cheeky two cents with fervor and invited me to the party they were on their way to.

Flattered as I was, I felt like it was far too soon to jet away to the Bronx with a pack of teenagers/young adults that I hardly knew, and responded with a genuine "Maybe next time!" The cute [albeit young] Puerto Rican kid I had my eyes on exchanged numbers with me and told me that he would no doubt, let me know about the next one.

That's how, less than a week later, I ended up on a journey to a Bronx house party where Marc [the Puerto Rican kid] and all his friends would be in attendance. I figured, why not? We were all young, smart, fun-loving, and Hispanic [and I'd never really had any Hispanic friends].

The night of, Marc's friend Danny met me in Chelsea [where I was living at the time] along with 2 or 3 other people whose names and faces I vaguely remember. We hopped off the train somewhere deep in the Bronx after what seemed like forever, and after a mysterious trek up [what seemed like] endless concrete steps, we reached the apartment.

It was small and dimly lit; and people were drinking, chit chatting and dancing already. There were clusters of guests tucked away in every corner, some even dipping out of the party to periodically hang out in the stairwell. This wasn't a trouble-making group of urban kids. There were drinks but no one was puking, brightly colored Nikes were on everyone’s feet, graphic tees and hoodies were also plentiful. There was talk of school and work, a few guys were doing the "superman" dance, and if there were drugs or even weed, I hadn't seen any. 

I was sipping on soda [I was still too cautious to drink alone], grooving to the music, and enjoying myself. I remember looking around and thinking to myself "Could I be a part of this? Is this the group of friends that I'd been missing?" I joined Marc and his friends in the stairwell for some jokes and silly talk and as I threw my head back in laughter for the 10th time, I marveled at how comfortable I felt. I was comfortable enough to gulp down half of a Hulk [Henessey and Hypnotiq], before dumping the rest in the kitchen sink.

The socializing seemed to go on for hours, and after some time I found myself feeling sleepy [the simultaneous effect of alcohol and a 50 hour work week on my poor soul]. I grabbed my coat and turned around to see Danny standing very closely behind me. He grabbed my hand and I followed, assuming that we were on our way out. I heard a door close behind me and as I regained focus, I realized we were in the bathroom... alone. He swiftly wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me in close, his body uncomfortably pressed against mine. "I noticed you since that first night on the train... I mean you're beautiful..." he panted. He said a few more words, and I, still in shock just stood there. He tried to kiss me, and I pulled away. "I have to go home," I said and tried to make a dash for the door. He pulled me back by the arm and whined "C'mon... why you being like that?" I panicked, and rushed out of the apartment as fast as I could.

One of the other guys [a more class clown, gentle type] accompanied me on the train ride home, and as we traveled further downtown, I tried to push the strange incident out of my mind. A few days later, I texted Marc mentioning what happened, and asking what was up. I received no sympathy from him and soon figured out that it all seemed to be a set up. I had my eye on Marc, and Danny had his eye on me... and Marc just helped puppeteer me right into Danny's arms.

I bumped into Danny a little while later, downtown near NYU where he went to school. There was no dodging him, so I merely smiled and kept walking, passing on the opportunity to say hello and make small talk. After all, I decided, you really shouldn't talk to strangers.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Learning & Growing

Oprah's LifeClass has been truly wonderful, and it was a great reminder that I'm on the right path. All of the lessons [and webcasts - which I strongly preferred] were enlightening and powerful, but one line stood out to me and it was during Lesson 19: Step out of the Box.

Tangela Embraces Her Body
After years of struggling with her weight, a viewer named Tangela finally decided to love herself at any size. Watch as she lets go of her body shame and struts through her neighborhood in a bikini!

My heart bursts for her! [Although I lol'd for real at her family and friends' reaction.] 

Anyway, the line was:

"If you want something you've never had, you gotta do something you've never done."

I was stunned when I heard that. I knew it was the truth but I'd never heard it said so clearly before. If you follow the path of your parents or your friends or even celebrities... you will find yourself living a carbon copy of someone else's life. 

You have to be a trailblazer. And although I have stepped out of the box a few times already [skipping college, moving to NYC, working for myself]... I now hesitate to go any further. And I think I know where the hesitation comes from. 

A huge part of it comes from not knowing what to do next: What kind of plan should I create? How can I gain knowledge and new experiences while avoiding an internship? How can I find an extraordinary mentor in my career path? What can I do to make my blog stand out and to attract the right readers? Should I spend some time volunteering? Should I go abroad? How much money do I need to save?

But a tinier and more resistant hesitation comes from present comfort. This is probably the first time in my life [since the Spring] that I have felt truly comfortable, stable and at peace emotionally. I have a lovely roof over my head, a fridge full of food, a closet full of magic, and a spirit that is at rest. I truly can say that besides my dreams of exotic vacations and silly desires for more material goods, I want for nothing. So upon the thought of taking a risk, my inner child is screaming "How dare you disrupt what we have going here?!" And then I'm tempted to question myself. 

I guess it would be helpful if I knew where to go on this journey. I've already begun, but now I need to take it to the next level. I'm such a planner and organized person that it's stressful and difficult for me to "just start anywhere". But maybe that's what I need to do... For now I'm taking baby steps, saving money, executing ideas for BlueShame, and looking forward to plans in 2012. Let's hope I figure this all out before then.

Things I need right now:

  • A graphic designer
  • A hairstylist 
  • A back up photographer and makeup artist in case my current ones fall through
  • A black, flat, knee high boot
  • A massage
  • A haircut
  • A new phone/MP3 player/headphones [an Iphone, basically]
  • A vacation
  • Some loving
  • A business license
  • A 2012 planner and calendar
  • A wise and talented mentor
  • A motorcycle operator's manual
  • A tailor
  • To begin attending dance class

And how many am I likely to get before the end of the year?

All of them.

I stay winning:
"I never compete because I never had to." - Lady Blue 
Scratch edit: Jan 2012

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Changing my mind I change clothes. What would a title like that be without the hit? 

Also, how good is the: "Coming in?"... "Love to."... "Nope!" in the beginning?!


I always have a million ideas running through my mind. And that seems like a great thing until suddenly, something I seemed so passionate about a week ago is now relegated to being a plan B. [Which did actually happen.] And for a second I felt guilty about flip flopping on what I want to do with my time until I remembered two things: I'm still young as ______, and when it comes to my life choices: I have no one to answer to!

What a feeling.

I also realized: It's okay to change your mind, especially because sometimes, no matter how meticulously you plan, some dreams just never come to fruition. Sometimes, something else takes its place instead.

So although a few blogs ago I expressed a strong desire to try my hand at back up dancing [a desire I still have, albeit not as strong], other wants have won out, specifically: Visiting Paris [and potentially London and Barcelona as well] in the Spring, saving up a neat[er] little nest egg, and getting my head above water career-wise. 

[Did I tell you I'm also trying to get on the radio? Oh yeah. Not only am I sharp, quick-witted and interesting, but I have the ultimate radio friendly voice. Needless to say, I think I'm a necessary asset to NY radio.]

Maybe I'm reverting back to my low-risk methods, maybe I spent all my dance class money on winter essentials [like cozy sweaters, swingy coats and suede boots], or maybe I'm just realizing that I don't want to run into LA headfirst like my impatience sometimes causes me to do. Perhaps it's not the right time for that big move, and I should wait a little bit longer.

But then again, when you really want something, any time is a good time. 

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Oh snap

Took the words right out of my mouth! Really.


We invent new ways to indulge our hedonistic whims every single day, but we cannot seem to solve the problems that universally plague us: poverty, hunger, senseless crime, sickness...

I believe that government, just like religion, is opium for the masses. A way to keep order, to keep things civilized amongst the 7 billion people that inhabit planet earth. But do we really have civilized societies? I like to think of it as controlled chaos. So very tightly controlled that we are raised to merely work. Once we spend our youth being “educated” in school, we move on to college. An overpriced institution mandated by societal pressures. A prerequisite to finding a good, honest, job [ideally at a big business or corporation]. And so it ends up that most of us toil away our time lining the pockets of others, the same "others" who often make decisions for us on a national level. We work jobs we don't like that don't pay us enough [minimum wage in NY is a paltry $7.25], in order to shut up Sallie Mae and afford things like homes and cars, luxuries that often keep us indebted for most of our lives. In order to pay this debt, consume to our hearts desires and live out the fantasy of the "American Dream", we must continue to work. And because we all work roughly 40, 50, even 60 hours a week for our meager paychecks, we end up too tired to fight against the injustices of this system. We just wanna go home and enjoy ourselves with one of the mindless gadgets we've convinced ourselves we deserve. We want things to be simple. But unfortunately for all of us, they are not.

This is the life that the U.S. Government has created for all of us. And waking up to the reality of it [usually sometime after college graduation, and a few months working in the "real world"] isn't pretty.

Sometimes freedom feels like... a fallacy.

Church and state are supposed to be separate. But like so many other contradictory and hypocritical elements found in U.S. Gov's proceedings, we know that they are very intertwined, and dare I say, even feed each other. Although I am personally pro-life, the government should not have any say in how a woman handles her pregnancy. An institution that introduced the death penalty cannot have any opinions about whether abortion is murder or not. [Now if they were to legalize abortion, birth control should be free and handed out to any sexually active woman of child-bearing age. I am positive that move would assist in minimizing unwanted pregnancies, and that is ultimately the goal!] 

The government is also notorious for being incessantly greedy. I have not and will not ever smoke marijuana, but even I - an avid hater of the stuff - can agree that it is far less toxic on the human body than cigarettes. Why are cigarettes legal and marijuana not? Marijuana is difficult to regulate, seeing as though people can practically grow it in their backyards. The government doesn't like that. It wants eyes and ears and hands all over any and every possible dime they believe to be theirs. Logic says that if cigarettes and alcohol are legal, marijuana should be too. But greed speaks another language. Lets not forget all the other institutions that make the government millions of dollars: the prison system, the other prison system: education, and healthcare to name a few.

Healthcare [or lack thereof] in this country is ridiculous. Money is the reason why we see so very many drugs, and so few cures. It's much more lucrative to keep people drugged and coming back for more, than it is to cure them. The greed needs to stop. We have people working 3 jobs to stay afloat, we have people getting kicked out of their homes, we have people sick and dying and overwhelmed with medical bills, we have homeless and hungry children, we have hit veterans with nothing but slaps in the face. 

And where is the help for them? Listen to me when I say that you do not know struggle until you have tried to apply for government assistance. Not only is the process unnecessarily complicated and arduous but you are often dealing with rude, apathetic workers who are usually middle to lower class citizens themselves. They have probably seen all sorts of ignorance and tend to lump whomever walks in the door as one of "them" [ie: compassion fatigue]. When you already feel low, this process will make you feel even lower.

Occupy Wall Street [and all the other towns across America it has traveled to] is such an interesting movement. As with all things, I didn't make an assessment until I took a closer look. And although I agree with some of the detractors [wouldn't it be wiser to occupy Washington DC? And what exactly are they protesting?], I think the general sentiment is a good one. People are rising up and taking a stand. People are complaining about something real for once. People are letting their voice be heard. They are saying the things so many of us can't say. We have had far too many hardworking men and women struggling in silence. But not anymore. And in some ways I have to admit, I haven't been this proud of my fellow Americans since Barack Obama won the 2008 election [the man I voted for!]

I hope that a change comes of this. I hope there is a further shift in our perception of reality, government, our rights and our freedoms. I believe the government would sooner annihilate us all than give us a fair society [and then spin the blame into some story about "nuclear attacks" from a third world country], but I hope that I'm proved wrong. This is the one time in my life that I hope I'm completely wrong.

Thursday, October 27, 2011


Roses really smell like poo poo poo

I can't stand this girl... but who cares about her?!?! 
It's so spectacular, it needed its own post. 
If someone could just take it in at the waist and dip it in white -
I would totally get married in it. 
Yes please.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

The Shame in Slut Shaming


There are so many avenues to explore with a topic like this, one that most people [especially people of color] feel strongly about. I've never heard so much hoe-slinging as I do around Black and Hispanic people!... I wonder why that is. Maybe someone can tell me in the comments?

A 411 on hoochies:
The thing about being promiscuous is this is what people call a 'hoe'. [Although, I personally prefer the word 'whore' - it has a rough, grimy sound to it that I really enjoy.] I know it's unfair and it's a label, but labels are how humans assess each other and process life. Note: I'm not talking about prostitution and all the rap songs blathering about "pimps and hoes" [which I just learned is a real phenomenon after watching the heart-wrenching documentary "Very Young Girls" - call me suburban sheltered], I'm talking about individuals who have lots of sex freely and openly. 

Are you a hoe?
Now let's say you are promiscuous individual. No one should make you feel ashamed of that, for what you do with your body is your choice to make. The bigger and better question is, do you feel shame in accepting what you do with your body? Because if you feel shame, therein lies an issue. You should never feel shame in anything that you do. If you feel no shame, then congratulations, there is a strong chance you have found your calling. But before you run off to celebrate, here's a question: Who are you? Why do you make the choices you make? And if you cannot answer that question from a place of truth and positivity [or without mentioning your physical traits or sex - sex being something you do and share, not what or who you are], then odds are, your choices come from a place of hurt and pain - and that's another major issue. If this is you, dig deep and find answers.

[I wish I had a lyric to toss in here, something like "Hoes have hearts too" or "Grab a hoe, teach a hoe"; but alas, I don't listen to enough hip-hop.]

Whores in my personal space:
We all know that I'm particular about who I date. Recently I just realized that "New Yorker" or "Willing to live in the city at least semi-permanently" is a necessary add-on to my mental list of must-haves. Yay for narrowing the pool even further! But another thing I know and believe, is that PSA: Men can be hoes too!* And that, has always been a dealbreaker. Why? Let's examine the reasons why I won't date a hoe.

Hell no! Hoes got to go!
  • I've never met a well-adjusted, sexually promiscuous person. I don't do delusional men and I don't do baggage carrying men.
  • Extreme behavior of any type is a bad sign, and I feel no different when it comes to sex. Addictive behavior [to anything] and excess [of anything] is disastrous.
  • Sleeping with almost anyone shows poor taste and low standards. There is no exclusivity between your thighs. Your nether regions are a 99 cents store, everyone can afford you and everyone is allowed in. Plus, you are probably disorganized, dirty and crammed with plastic crap that no one really wants. I'm more of a boutique girl... I have security at the door, luxurious pieces, and high prices - and if you aren't high end like moi - then obviously we are not evenly yoked.
  • You probably have a gaping hole somewhere inside that you are trying to fill. And you'll be chronically unsuccessful, because a physical act like sex [which is what it is, in this case] isn't the way to fill an emotional gap.
And so on and so forth. 

So as you can see, there is no need to "slut-shame" anyone, ever. Chances are, that person already feels a deep sense of shame, one that your unnecessary taunts will never begin to replicate. If anything, I would insist on helping that hoes understand why they do what they do. And if they are already aware of the reasons, then hey! Let a slut be a slut, if you aren't personally affected by it, what's it to you anyway? Live and let live.

*Some guys looove to throw the "hoe" word around as the word hoe only refers to women. As if they aren't in the club every weekend grinding it out with the first female to "pop that pussy for a real goon". So, please, spare me. All the "grabby" guys and all the girls who grind on anything with a penis are two peas in a pod in my book.

p.s. - Apparently I am giving hoe tips on twitter, here and here. It was just a thought.

Friday, October 21, 2011

The Strut

I just purchased these unbelievably sexy shoes [the Scarlett pump by Sam Edelman] this week, but unfortunately, they have to go back. The heel is 5 inches high, and while I can manage that height with certain shoes, these make me feel like my ankle is going to snap at any moment. Scary. I was surprised by that though because Sam Edelman usually makes uber comfortable shoes [which is why I love the brand].

So I'm now I've been eyeing these adorably foxy shoes as a replacement [the Marina pump] - and just as I prepared to sit down and nab the first pair I saw, I realized it comes in a handful of colors and combinations, and I need help choosing.

Here are my top 3:

The red ones are a bright splash of color and are a bit spicy, and they serve another useful purpose: they'd make my ethnicity easily identifiable to others. [Which is important to someone who gets questioned all the time.]

The purple pair provide a needed pop of color while still blending effortlessly with my mostly cool-toned wardrobe. Plus it was once the color of royalty. [And we all know how I feel about myself.]

These blue bad boys are in the running because I've been looking for a sharp yet not-so-blatant blue shoe, and this pretty lil silk number might be it. [Also, I've been dreaming about a blue shoe.]

I just found this J. Crew shoe [the Viv printed pump] and I'm digging it... but I feel like if I tilt my head just so, they look a little matronly. Also the price feels a bit too high for what is a somewhat, stuffy shoe.

Is there a clear winner? Leave your thoughts in the comments!

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Beauty isn't for everyone

I'm sure you've seen one of these quotes floating around the internet, quips oft posted by throngs of 16 year old girls who wish them to be true:

Nice thought, but try again.


Why do I have an issue with these images? Because they're untrue. We're going to talk about beauty in the natural, bare bones, physical sense, as is defined here: A combination of qualities that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight. Beauty also known as: prettiness, attractiveness or loveliness.

I'm a big fan of being realistic. And I'm going to show you just how real I can get.

The key to raising the collective female self-esteem is not by telling everyone they're beautiful just the way they are. That's actually the wrong thing to do. Why? Because it creates a false reality. Although it can be argued that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, we must admit that not everyone is physically beautiful; just like not everyone has blue eyes and not everyone has brown hair. If you convince everyone that they are attractive even when they are clearly not, model castings will become the visual equivalent of American Idol auditions. And who wants to be the person to tell a two on a scale of one to ten that their face is just not symmetrical?

Certainly not I.

So here is the key. You ready? The key is to take the emphasis off of physical beauty to begin with. Far too much emphasis is placed on physical beauty in our society, that it is often enough to have it and flaunt nothing else. Here's a little newsflash about your looks though [barring body modifications: weight loss/gain, plastic surgery, tattoos/piercings, muscles of course]: Not only are they subjective, but you can't take any credit for them. You got what you got and there's really nothing more to it. All you can do from then on is work with what you have, and keep it in perspective.

We need to teach our young men and women that we are much much more than just our fleshly bodies. That even if you aren't a looker to most, you better have something in that brain of yours that makes folks look twice! You better have something to say, and the ability to say it with confidence. You better have a hobby, you better be good at something, you better hold your head high and have something to offer to the world and others. You better be a star on the inside and you better let it shine. Because the worst kind of ugly is the kind where the person practically needs an exorcism.

Essentially, we need to attach more importance to the sparkle of a personality than the degree of hip curvature.

This is a message to everyone, all of the beautiful and all of the not so: Don't rest your worth on something that is unchangeable and ultimately fleeting. Focus on what stays. How tasty is a beautifully frosted cake with rotten filling anyway? What good is a beautiful front yard garden when the house is empty? But let's not get it twisted either: the house with the antiques, crown molding and marble inside could also use a power wash outside. Not working your outside to the best of your ability is just as bad as being a blankhead Barbie.

You're probably thinking "Well this is easy for you to say Lady Blue, you're so beautiful/stunning/a goddess." And to that, I say two things and two things only.
1) I know *flips hair* take a picture, it'll last longer and 2) Even models sometimes look a wreck.

Peep below: 

If you do not zoom in on this picture, you have missed out on one of life's greatest opportunities.

This is why it's important to have a personality. Makeup washes off and clothes come off. And all that's left is you.

Looks can get you in the door, but personality determines whether you stay in the building.

P.S. - Don't listen to the media. Fuck the media and their regurgitated and impossible standards of beauty... [ie: tall and thin, white and light] when have they ever been right about anything? The media plays zero part in how I feel about myself, and you should make them nonexistent in your life too. [See Lesson #2 in The Four Agreements: Don't take anything personally - what others say and do is a projection of their own reality.]

This post was inspired by many things; the media, tumblr, Jay-Z even... but mostly something that I tweeted just the other day: What's the big deal about being attractive? It's gotten me NOTHING other than a bunch of unwanted attention from losers who have no chance. I got a few haha's replies in return, but a few women agreed with me. In my experience, it has been the truth. When I really thought about it, nothing but my brains and mental and emotional strength got me where I am today. Not my thin figure, not my full lips, not my brown ringlets, not even my pretty hazel eyes. And although I've always known I have desirable and enviable features, I've never rested my laurels on my physical appearance. I always felt like the day I did that, would be the day I'd come across someone who thought I wasn't even all that. Looks aren't everything, I mean, look at Oprah.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011


I had a moment with someone tonight. It was late, I was hungry so I got off the train and walked into this Mexican taco shop before heading home. It was completely empty, but as I looked around, I spotted a man sitting in the corner with his head in his hands. I said hello, seemingly startling him. I asked if the restaurant was open and he said yes and immediately stood to his feet. He washed his hands, and asked me what I wanted. I immediately noticed that something was way off. He was either drunk or really consumed by emotion because his words were rushed and slightly unintelligible. I told him I wanted a quesadilla and he nodded but then seemed to drift off into a daze. He ignored my request and instead started talking in circles: he'd been in the shop since 10am [if so, he'd been there 12 hrs], how he was the only one in the store all day, how he had no wife or kids at home and no family here in the States. I couldn't tell if he wanted to punch something or cry uncontrollably. Bewildered, I encouraged him to cancel my order; "Never mind," I smiled, and then hightailed it home as fast as possible, embarrassed at myself for feeling fear at his desperation.

But three hours later, as I found myself in bed with big fat tears streaming down my face, I realized that his heartfelt woes had conjured familiar feelings in me. It has been years since I have been around or felt any genuine love from another person. Dare I say, nearly a decade.  I find that the lack of love in my life - the deprivation of truly believing that someone cares - is taking a toll on me. And this has little to do with feeling empty and unfulfilled and more to do with the sheer absence of a real human need. I constantly feel stressed, anxious and overwhelmed. I often feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. I feel alone. I am alone. And though most of the time I'm okay with that reality, I have moments where it feels like I'm crumbling because of it. I have those moments once in a blue during that time of the month where I feel low. Pure rock bottom, true emotional depravity. And there is no one to hug me and say "It will be okay, because I'm here for you." As a matter of fact, I can't even remember the last time I hugged anyone at all. This isn't a cry for help, this is real life. And I'm speaking for every single person out there who feels this same way: you, me, the man at the taco shop.

I wish I'd had the courage to hug him and say "Don't worry. It will be okay."

But I didn't.

All I could do later, in the silence of my sadness, was understand.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

What boredom leads to:

I could say that this post is all about getting to know Lady Blue better, but the truth is, I have 6 drafts sitting in my portfolio that I don't feel like tackling at the moment, so instead I'll show you what happens when I'm pressed for blog material*. Enjoy!

What is one thing that no one knows about you?
There's a lot on my plate, so I often combat feelings of worry and stress [usually triggered by the most inconsequential stuff]. I usually just hide out until the feeling passes.

What's one thing people should know about you?
I have high standards for who I spend time with, but the only people bothered by them tend to be the people who don't meet them. I'm becoming a bit more lenient though, if someone has positive energy and treats me well, that's honestly good enough.

Celebrity Crushes:
Looks-wise: Idris Elba, Columbus Short, Anthony Mackie, Charlize Theron, Jackie Guerrido, Kate Beckingsale, Kim Kardashian [pre-plastic surgery]... I feel like there's more that I'm forgetting. Swag-wise: Pharrell, Gaga, Posh. Style-wise: Posh again, Zanna Rassi, Stacey London.

Celebrity Crushes that I can't explain:
Pitbull, 50 Cent, Ryan Gosling, Bradley Cooper, Teyana Taylor, Justin Bieber!

What are 3 things you do best?
I'm an amazing dancer, I'm a fabulous communicator, I'm highly skilled at understanding people. Such marketable skills!

What are 3 things you do worst?
I'm terrible at lying, I have little patience for most things, and my time management skills generally suck.

What are some of your pet peeves?
People who are immature, people who are delusional [ie: people who are super cocky without the slightest reason to be], poor speech/grammar, when baristas fuck up your coffee, flat soda, poop on the sidewalks, crowded trains, when a weird smell from an NYC street gets in your mouth, extreme superficiality, the term "pet peeves", waking up earlier than 10am, being woken up [although that hasn't happened in forever - thank godness for living alone!], shiftless people, ignorance... is there a cap on this question?

Who is your hero?
...I am my own damn hero!!! Coke Talk says "heroes are for children and idiots". Now I can say this instead of pausing awkwardly for an extended period of time after being asked who my hero is. 

What do you like to do in your spare time?
Well I don't know, it really depends on the weather, and who I'm with and what they like to do, and what I want to wear and what mood I'm in. But usually you can find me sitting on my bed in little to no clothing, engrossed in some new reading material or marveling at my own precious penmanship and witty conjectures.

What are you going to be like when you reach the pinnacle of success?
The fact that I'm not there yet and I already receive much unwanted attention makes me think that it will only multiply once my name is really known. I will always be the same girl whether in the limelight or out: smart, put-together, and just a teeny bit snobby.

What makes you different than all the other bloggers out there?
I've concluded that not only am I a unique and rare flavor in the blogosphere but I'm one of the few non-white women doing it and doing it rather well. Most of the "famous" bloggers are white, pretty and thin with blogs focusing on either fashion or celebrities. My blog focuses on everything but. Not only that, but I can string together a dope paragraph and spark my readers interest better than most of these chicks. I would put money on that in a heartbeat. There's a reason why most of them stick to surefire topics and posting endless photos of themselves.

What are some of your favorite things?
Since I'm indecisive/a Gemini/a rule breaker, I have two answers for most things... except favorite color, because, duh.

Favorite color: Guess!
Favorite song: That's the way love goes by Janet Jackson
Favorite type of music: R&B
Favorite movie: 25th Hour
Favorite genre: Dramas & Thrillers
Favorite food: Anything Italian & Latin
Favorite drink: Anything brown and caffeinated, or lemonade
Favorite drank: Caipirinha or mojito & Champagne
Favorite flower: the red rose & the vanilla orchid
Favorite animal: Elephant
Favorite city: New York & Paris
Favorite philosophy: Live and let live & Be the best you can be!
Favorite cause: Anything to do with the betterment of children's lives & anything that focuses on knowledge of self.

*I think I just broke the number one blogging rule: Never admit that you've run out of material.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Missed Connections

Seeking Sexy Man spotted at The Cove:

I'm looking for the fine specimen of a man I saw at The Cove tonight in Williamsburg. It was a little after midnight.

The sides of your head were shaved, and the hair that was left in the middle was pulled back into these cool dreads/twists. I think.

You were wearing a gray blazer and you had like a, Puerto Rican face. You were alone, standing near the bar.

I was the girl in flannel with friend clumsily heading towards the bar who stared at you creepily [as you smiled] and then laughed in your face as I walked past. I don't know why I did that.

Anyways you are fucking omg gorgeous.

Before I had a chance to compliment you on your interesting style, you disappeared. I was pretty bummed about that.

P.S. - If this guy is your boyfriend... Bitch, I don't care.

Please email me sexy man, I love you.

[Edit: Believe it or not, he found me and emailed me! He even went as far as sending a picture for proof. But unfortunately, the sexy man ended up just wanting sex, so I gave him a thumbs down and kept it movin.]

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Now or Later

Cue "Sittin on the dock of the bay" by Sara Bareilles

An American tourist was at the pier of a small coastal Belizean village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked.

Inside the small boat were several large fish. The tourist complimented the Belizean on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.

The Belizean replied, "Only a little while."

The tourist then asked, "Why didn't you stay out longer and catch more fish?"

The Belizean said, "With this I have more than enough to support my family's needs."

The tourist then asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"

The Belizean fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos, I have a full and busy life."

The tourist scoffed, "I can help you. You should spend more time fishing; and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat: With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor; eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You could leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Belize City, then Los Angeles and eventually New York where you could run your ever-expanding enterprise."

The Belizean fisherman asked, "But, how long will this all take?"

The tourist replied, "Oh, 15 to 20 years."

"But what then?" asked the Belizean.

The tourist laughed and said, "That's the best part. When the time is right you would sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions."

"Millions?...Then what?"

The American said, "Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your friends."

-Author Unknown

Just Dance

Poetry in Motion - JaxeNL

So... I'm moving to LA. Not right now and only for a few months, but yes. I'm going to do it. Why? Because I'm secure enough in New York City to leave and return with no issues, because I want to live somewhere entirely different for a little while, because I'm only young [and carefree] once. And, oh yeah, because I want to try my hand at becoming a back-up dancer.


How did I come to such a crazy idea? Well first, I'm a hell of a good dancer. Anyone who has seen me dance can tell you that. And at this point in my life, I've decided that I just wanna make money doing things I'm already good at, instead of learning a whole new talent or skill for pay. And being miles away from home won't interfere with my blogging or my social life [which will undoubtedly go on without me]. I have no technical training, so for now I plan on sticking to hip-hop and contemporary dance, which I know I can realistically ace. And I'm not at all worried about the vanity of the industry because even though I'll be "old" by the time I venture out there, I'm fortunate enough to have a young, attractive "look" and a naturally thin body.

So many things have been pointing me to Los Angeles/California in the past few months. I have friends who already live in LA, NY friends who have talked about moving there, and even a dancer friend or two. One of whom inspired me to take the same risk he took just a few years ago. He moved to LA from Michigan after a near death experience, gave himself three months to land a gig, and the rest [dancing with Lady Gaga and Beyonce to name a few] is history. Now he spends his days doing things he loves: sky diving, working out and doing crazy stunts on his bike.

This video is a choreographed routine to Aaliyah's “One in a million” by Luam [the girl in the bandanna]. I'm dying to take one of her classes at BDC.

I have a lot of work to do... including tons of research, attending a few dance classes here in New York [Broadway Dance Center, here I come!], saving hundred of dollars, and getting my motorcycle license [I plan on driving a vespa - or something like it - all over LA]; so the next few months should be rather interesting. I've always been a dreamer, but this is one of the few times I feel I'm really dreaming BIG.

At worst, I'll have had a short change of pace in the sunny and breezy state of California. And at best, you'll have seen me shaking my ass on TV.

...Also, rhythm is a dancer. [I'm sorry,  I just wanted to throw that in here somewhere.]

P.S. - If anyone wants to say something discouraging... don't... and instead, click here.

Thursday, September 1, 2011


I quietly crept down the stairs trying to get a peek at the couch without making it too obvious why I was even looking. I tiptoed across the creaky hardwood floors of the living room and made it to the kitchen undetected. I flicked on the kitchen light and took a quick look at my surroundings. Without realizing, I swiped a glass sitting at the edge of the counter top clean onto the floor. I crossed my fingers that it hadn't broken into a million pieces - it had, and I hoped that it hadn't woken my host up - it hadn’t. I filled another glass with water and bent down beneath the sink, searching for something to clean up. I navigated around bottles of cleaning solution, various sponges, and paper towels, but found nothing to sweep up. Just as I went to reach for my glass, I spied him leaning against the open doorway of the kitchen. I felt a lump rise in my throat. “Oh, hey,” I gulped. “Sorry, did I wake you?” I asked, although I was more curious about how long he'd been watching me. “Yep, you did,” he nodded, taking a few steps closer to me. 

He was outfitted in black sweats, shirtless, his chest bare and muscular, with biceps and washboard abs that were beautifully defined. He looked adorably sexy, his hair slightly mussy from his short, interrupted slumber. 

I looked down self-consciously at my bare thighs and pulled my nightie down. I didn't look too bad myself, I guessed. As I waited for his next words, I clenched my glass so tightly I thought it might break. “I just came down to get a drink,” I said, hoisting my glass into the air, splashing a little of it onto the ground. “But I kind of made a mess,” I said looking down at the broken glass. I took a gulp of water and looked at him, trying not to ramble. “It was hot up there,” I finished. He moved closer, pushing the chunks of glass aside with his feet. “Are you hot right now?” he asked, his eyes suddenly looking serious. His chest was now pressed against my upper body. My little heart was surging out of my chest and I avoided his glare.“You look like you're burning up,” he smiled. I let my glass of water dump into the sink and wiped my forehead with my cool hand. “A little,” I replied, with a small head nod. My voice was low and nervous. I had a feeling I knew where he was going with this, but I wasn't making the first move. Not in his house, not in his kitchen. Before I could figure out what to do next, he slipped one arm around my waist, plucked my chin up with a finger, and tilted his head to meet my lips. He kissed me lightly and gently at first, and then incorporated his tongue into the kiss. 

And whatever he did, I obediently followed.

Out of nowhere, and what seemed like the result of an adrenaline rush, he picked me up and placed me on a bare spot on the counter. I squealed and giggled like a little girl. He continued to kiss me, and I pressed myself closer, as a warmth began to completely envelope my body. I ran my fingers over his head, on the back of his neck, over his shoulders, all over his back. The kisses felt more intense now, he even began to kiss my cheek and nibble on my neck. I wrapped one of my slim legs around his waist, and then, the other. He moved his hands up and down my thighs, around my hips and butt, up my back and over my waist. Soon enough, he picked me up again, and laid me on the couch he was previously sleeping on. I was on my back and he knelt over me, stopping to look into my eyes for a moment. He smiled a huge know-it-all smile, and I laughed in response, giving him a little shove on the shoulder. He kissed me on the forehead, and I rested my head against his chest. I feel asleep in his arms, and in the morning when I awoke, I found I was alone.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011


You're catching me at 5:30am, after a splendid second visit to my latest favorite spot SUTRA bitch.
I had three drinks [smirnoff ice, rum & coke, corona] which in my world = tipsy. So therefore that's what I am at this very moment.
Last time I stayed mostly upstairs on the hip-hop floor, but this time my lively dancing partner and I decided to work it out downstairs [mostly because the upstairs was muggy and playing like 70s soul music]. I had a fantastic time on the "reggae floor"... reggae always lifts a girl's spirits, and I needed some lifting after fucking Irene and then catching a wack cold ya dig.
But something interesting/amazing happened tonight. Someone recognized me from the internet! More specifically, twitter/tumblr. Like to the point that her and homegirl were whispering next to me trying to figure out if it was "me". So then the homegirl taps me on the shoulder and asks me if I'm on twitter, and I say yeah and give her my screename, and then the main girl is like, yeah you follow me on tumblr, you have blue in your name and you're from New York and I recognize your hair and I was just like "Cool" because in my head I was like "Is this a practical joke?"
And then I was like goddamn why am I so cynical, I should have been nicer to her, she was just being nice/starstruck or whatever.
I have fucking arrived.
Anyways, after hours of grooving to reggae and my saying hi and bye to random people, and apologizing for bumping into folk and then saying hi to Steve, a bouncer I recognized from this other venue, me and my girl friend left and went to Velselka where I gave my business card to random diner, and me and my dancing partner blabbered on and on to this sweet waitress who just wanted to go home.
If you're wondering what my business card looks like, it looks like this:
So fresh and so clean.
Goddamit I love this city.
Anonymous sutra admirer, reveal yourself.
p.s. - You do not even know the amount of spell checking I did on this shit... okay.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

C'mon Irene

I am pretty much prepared... now I'm just waiting. Here are my latest tweets:
  • I never thought I'd be saying this, but NYC is actually NOT the place to be [right now] #HurricaneIrene
  • I'm glad I am vehemently drug free... Or else I'd be getting high out of my mind right now.
  • BTW guys, find the brightest color T-shirt you have and put it on. Easier for helicopters to see you if you have to get on the roof.
  • I'm one of those people that always has back-ups and travel size everything. I'm feeling mighty smart right now.
  • Don't forget the baby wipes!!! Wipe your dirty ass down on day 3 of no power/water.
  • Again... I blame the illuminati for this #Irene
  • The time feels like it's just inching by...
And now for some Hurricane Music!!!

This is your victory music. Listen to this, get your light saber, and get ready to fight this thing.

And this is your... "Farewell, I'm dying" music. *tear*


Friday, August 26, 2011

Hurricane Irene

Irene is coming this weekend. And I'll be the first to admit, I'm scared. I'm scared because I don't know. I'm unsure what can happen. This isn't the kind of uncertainty that comes after a job interview or a date. This is a totally encompassing fear, a terror and urgency that you feel deep inside mostly because you also feel lost. You feel unprepared. You feel like your life is at the tipping point of a very unwelcome change. This hurricane is looming, hanging over us... with the ability to tip the scales any which way it would like... and none of us will know how it will play out until it gets here.

I didn't start to worry until a day after I'd heard about the imminent Hurricane activity. I was coming across articles that tossed around things like "evacuation zones" and "police force on alert" [as well as helicopters, the Navy and other government officials] and a potential "subway shut down" [supposedly in effect tomorrow at noon], and I was just in disbelief. In New York? Really? First an earthquake and now this... barely 5 days later?! New York is not used to these kinds of catastrophes. And in effect I see a lot of people, in their usual jaded and arrogant NY stance, taking this news too lightly. How can you take it lightly when you're not even sure how much damage you're going to be facing? I say, prepare now, because it's better to be safe than sorry.

I've experienced a hurricane once before, Hurricane Georges in the Dominican Republic, in the fall of 1998. I was 10 years old, and I was alone. [My mother had booked a flight to the states and left me behind with her extended family. Mother of the year, truly.] I remember it rained all day long and that the gusts of wind were so strong that they occasionally blew splashes of water onto the front porch of the concrete home. I remember sneaking to the patio to peer through the gates, and thinking that although I'd never seen anything like it, it didn't seem so bad. What could a little wind and rain do anyway? It wasn't until the hurricane was over and I took a ride through town that I saw the destruction and devastation that Mother Nature could cause. Georges caused 380 deaths in the Dominican Republic, and 1.2 billion dollars in damages. That hurricane was a category 4. They are reporting that Irene is the same. 

Not only am I anxious and scared, but I'm angry. I look around my adorable basement apartment and feel pride in the fact that every single item in there [including the apartment itself] is mine, because I purchased/acquired it all through my own volition. I am the only 23 year old woman I know who lives on their own in NYC and does so 100% independently. I don't have roommates, and I do not depend on my parents in any way shape or form and haven't since I was 17 years old. I am very independent, and I'm glad that that trait is inherent, because as I learned once I hit my early teens [and then full force during my late teens], I had no choice but to be. The thought of losing everything I've worked to build makes me feel angrier and more hopeless than I've ever felt.

Tonight, I'll buy a flashlight and canned goods, water and batteries, I'll tape up my windows, I'll put together a little girl scout backpack in case I have to run out of my place, I'll clean up and put all my valuables on high surfaces in case my place floods. On Saturday, I'll wake up early, have a cup of coffee, clear my mind, and get ready for this bitch to rumble.

...Oh and if you catch me on top of a hill sitting in a kiddie pool with goggles and floaties on, don't ask me any questions. I'm just survivin' man.

To all my fellow New Yorkers and East Coasters... please stay safe!!!

Thursday, August 25, 2011

The thing about being yourself

The only BlueShame in a sea of white faces

There's a lot of talk on the internet about "Being yourself", but how many of the people touting this advice even follow it? Very few, I'm sure. Why? Because it takes strength to be uniquely you. See, one crucial key to being yourself that people often forgo mentioning is strength. Strength is having the enormous courage and willpower to face life's hurdles and follow through on whatever you feel is right for you.

Why do you need strength? Take for example, me. I have always been "myself" and am very proud of the woman I have become. But for every person who has adored me, there have been five people who urged me to change. I've been called countless forgettable names, I've been told that I'm too outspoken, too opinionated, I have too much masculine energy, I should wear my hair differently, I should wear heels all the time, I should wear less makeup, I should gain weight, I should be sexier, I shouldn't be so serious, I should pick a "safe" career, I should be submissive. With all those darts [and sometimes poison] being thrown at me upon choosing to follow my own path, it took conviction to say "No thanks. This is who I truly am, take it or leave it." 

She was born this way. [Quite literally.]

For another example, let's look at Lady Gaga. She has repeatedly told the public that her hair, outfits and proper diction are who she really is, even going so far as to title her third release 'Born This Way'. And while even I [an enamored fan] have my reservations, who are you and I to say different? Who are we to say that thigh-baring get-ups and platinum blonde locks aren't what feel most natural to her? For her to do as she pleases, in front of the [critical] world no less, admittedly takes strength and brass balls.

I've always admired people who know what they want and what they're about [see: Lady Gaga, Patti Stanger, Kelly Cutrone, Tabatha Coffey, Stevie Nicks etc]. The people who can quickly and confidently say "No, that's not for me" or "Wow! I love that!" They are examples of how being yourself rocks. On the flipside, are naysayers who say things like "Sometimes the worst advice you can give someone is to be themselves" or "What if the real you sucks?" Well, newsflash! That "sucky" person isn't really you, it's merely a mirage of negative feelings that are floating around your true spirit. Sometimes negative clouds encase us for so long that we start to feel like they are intertwined with our spirit. That's when taking action is necessary. That's when a purging of all the bad needs to happen: all the expectations others have of you, all the false promises you've made, all the damaging beliefs you harbor; they've gotta go, and they've gotta go now.

Being yourself is about being the best person that you can be, the healthiest person that you are capable of being. Do not settle for an ornery state of being, a clouded spirit or a lesser version of you. Attempt to be the full you, you at your highest capacity. And if you're having trouble getting there, open up your heart and mind and the help will come. Be sincere and open in your desire to transform and the tools will be handed to you. This is not some fantastical hullaboo spiritual speak either. What I mean is, there are plenty of people out there living their best lives who would be delighted to help you do the same! And I'm not necessarily talking about gurus or corporate head honchos, this person can be your next door neighbor, your teacher or grandma. Anyone wise and sincere, and most importantly, very in tune with themselves.

Take some time to block out life's noise and talk to people, ask questions of yourself, read self-help books. Train your intuition by paying attention to when your stomach feels a little jolt, to when your palms sweat, to when your heart skips a beat. These are all clues to goodness or badness, things you are drawn to or repulsed by. Pay attention to that little voice in your head that says "Wait..." and listen closely when it says "Go!" If you pay attention to yourself, you will be well on your way to coming into your self. 

*So much for being in touch with myself... When I felt the first vibrations of the earthquake [my first ever!] on Tuesday afternoon, I immediately doubted what I'd just felt: "Is the room swaying or... is it just me?" How many of you did the same?