How to Tip Drill (not the BET Uncut kind)

This weekend I saw an ex girlfriend who stirred the pot o' beef again. This old bitch owes me $70 from New Year's, two years ago.She's one of those friends whose vocab often consisted of, "Ooh I gotta stop at the ATM", or "Since you brought the Grey Goose, I'll get you a drink at the club." The one that makes me the most furious is the 'helpless' response of, "I don't have any cash on me." What the hell is with grown ass adults NOT having cash on them? What if there's an emergency?! What if since I muthafuckin DROVE, I DON'T think I should pay for parking?I HATE when I get to the pay booth in the parking lot and am offered nothing..The most ridiculous part is often these leeches think they're the HOTTEST thing since habaneros. If you have diamond studs in your ears but just have a TCF card that your're unwilling to withdraw at a Wells Fargo machine, kick rocks. Don't even get me started on tipping at the bar. If you don't have the money to tip SOMETHING to your bartender, don't order a drink. Seriously. The person dealing with your drunk ass is prolly getting minimum wage and his/her mortgage is banking on your tip.When folks wanna be like, "Well I didn't get exceptional service", understand that it isn't just about courtesy...its about MAKING it. I make a base pay as a hairstylist and shouldn't hafta offer fellatio to get a tip. You are in my chair for a certain amount of time, and if I remember you didn't tip last time-expect a rushed service with a couple extra slashes out of my spite. Have respect for those in the service industry, and quit taking advantage of your nice friends. I'm done with it.

Married Men (Part I)

I cut hair...mostly men's hair. A couple months ago, a hot guy by the name of "Mike" sat in my chair, and bit his lip at our reflection in the mirror. He made a comment about the book I was reading and we had a GREAT convo about sashimi, Spain, and his work. Mike and I were kind of guffawing, and it took me 26 minutes to cut his faceted style. He was so attractive in that guy next door way, but charmed me like a veteran. I have a few microlittleteeny questions I ask when wondering if a customer is single, "So do you have any kids getting ready for school?" Mike looked me in the mirror, slowly blinked, "Yea....two." Damn...

For me, the wall goes up and unlike Berlin, won't come down. I would not, nor HAVE not entertained the idea of a wedded man. It's an instinctive thing, where I snap and go, "Aw shucks" like Michelle on Full House. I would freak the f out if some broad, who was touching my husband's head, had the nerve to hit on him-while knowing damn well. So Mike, aware that he totally unplugged the turntables on THAT delightful basement party, left with hair 3/4 of an inch shorter, tipped me 50%, and gave me a tightlipped smile (I raised my eyebrows in a response that said, "No chance dude".)

On a typical work day, I was cutting a 4 year old's hair, trying to convince him that pickles and marshmallows are great on pizza. (Seeing horrified expressions on kids' faces NEVER gets old for me.) Mike walked in, and I got nervous thinking, I had just SEEN this guy-did I mess his neckline up? Did I overcharge him? Hold up-Was he checking me out?! After traumatizing the little boy who loved pepperoni, Chris walked over to my chair, "I called to make sure you'd be here. How have you been? I bought that book you had, I've got a quarter left of it to finish." Understand that this book is OLD, it is NOT a bestseller, and that it's not THAT frickin good. Totally weirded out, I said, "Oh-you actually bought it on Ebay? Yeaaa....so you were here like only 3 wks ago, which means I need to just take like a quarter off the top, 3 on the sides again?" He turned away from the mirror, looked me in the face and said, "Do what you did last time (dimple dimple), it was perfect." Man, he was kinda creepy, but kinda good....

With a stern look on my face, I asked, "Does your son have hair as thick as yours?" Undiscouraged this time, "Nah-his hair's like his mom's, blonde and really fine. YOU have pretty thick hair, huh? I really like how it's all wet and curly this time..." ("This ol cocker spaniel swag? Mike, you so crazy!...I mean: AW SHUCKS like MichellefromFullHouse-shit!)A few fake snips here, some extra combing there, insert some "SNAP-OUT-OF-IT" moments, and we were done. He pulled on me what Bradley Cooper's fine ass pulled on Scarlett Johannsen in "He's Just Not that Into You". Mike's charm had me CURIOUS.

I pulled his name up in the computer, and before I cut his hair, for the last 2 years, Mike had been getting his haircut every 6 weeks like clockwork-WHICH WAS HALF THE TIME HE WAITED WITH ME. Hair doesn't all of a sudden grow faster! Oh God, this father of two KIDS was totally out of line, and I REFUSED to be Scarlett in the closet! Right?! Right....it's been three weeks since and I'm wary whenever that front door opens...but I've always got lip gloss on.

I'm 27 years old.

The week of my 25th birthday, I cried. Every. Day. My mother was married at a quarter of a century, and at the time I felt so far behind...At that age, my mom joined my dad in a new country which she had no idea about. They had 2 pans, a mattress, and each other. I felt that I could never be brave or motivated enough to do such a thing.

At 26 I was fresh out of a relationship, in beauty school, and had gained some definite poundage in the waist. Again I was so obsessed correlating relationships, with success and happiness. Recently everyone in the world (at least on Facebook) is getting engaged or has 42 albums full of shiny weddings. My friends and family would warn each other with texts of, "God, can you guess who ELSE found the love of their frickin life?". "Ugh that bitch doesn't deserve HAPPINESS."

I woke up at 27, and felt NEW. I felt like I have one chance to make this round worth it. I'm not that big into destiny, or optimism for that matter, but I actually have FAITH that what is MEANT to be will happen some day. If I'm meant to become a Golden Girl with my sister, who talks about her 4 labradoodles, and eats Goulash everyday, so be it. If I marry a hottie, talk about breast pumps, and buy Happy Meals cuz I'm too lazy, so be it. Now I could USE somebody (somebodaaaaayyy-someonelikeuuuuuuuuuu), but I don't have that NEED for anybody. I feel fresh as a daisy...love me or love me not! I will put myself out there this year, take risks, do right by my environment, and take risks.

I sincerely don't REMEMBER feeling calm about my situation. It's kinda fabulous.

Top 5 Fall Style Points as I type in my jammies...at 2PM...on my birthday...jeesh.

KATE MOSS & RHIANNA: There is SO much to be said about NOT coordinating everything. How effortless and chic is Kate Moss? She's the muse for so many because she is so forward, and never looks like she spent over 15 min getting ready. Matching everylittlething is dated. With age Moss gets more and more simple. Rhianna is quite different from the latter queen, but can inspire in a totally different way. She pairs punk with lace...was the first to wear the gladiator heels, and can NOT be boxed in. Variety can be enjoyed in your closet, as well as your KFC bucket.

BASICS: I recently bought a pack of Hanes Men's T-shirts, and have been wearing them every day. This may be derived from my uniform clad childhood, but I love how simple and bright my face looks with white cotton. The v-neck somehow makes me look thinner, and seriously-men glance when you look confident in something loose. Someone at Macy's asked me if the shirt was JAMES PERSE!!!!! (MUA- AH AH AH AH AHH evil laugh) Leggings are great for yet another season (phew!), as well as cardigans-which I need to get my hands on. Classics will never fail you as long as you dress them to the SEASON!

BLUSH & LIPSTICK: Cheeks were tawny and contoured at Fashion Week. If you are not wearing bronzer or blush everyday, DO IT! Elizabeth Hurley insists that blush is the cosmetic she can't live without-if she's not a babe, I dunno who is! It makes you look like you LOVE your life. Thank heavens, lipstick is BACK! Wines, Reds, and cool Pinks are all the rage...but understand they must be MATTE. Anything else is garish and makes you look like a hooker. Blush can be worn without lipstick, however lipstick MUST be worn with a blush/bronzer. Starkness is so Shannen Doherty circa 90210. If using a lipliner, for the love of Gucci, please use a nude lipliner, or Outline and FILL IN with the pencil. There is nothing tackier than seeing a line around the mouth by 11:30! Nude glosses are still in and are the only thing to be paired with the smokey eye. (I wish my last name was Kardashian)

HAIR: Texture-Simple updos-Hairspray! Oh My! Try getting your hair razored the next time you get a trim. Ask for the stylist to thin out the bottom 1/3 length of your hair-it'll give you the ends that you see on great hair. Get bangs! Try short layers! Experiment! I sucked it up and have bronze and blonde streaks, and I'm SO glad I did it! Use DRY hairspray for EVERYTHING-esp updos. It allows you to build and build without getting drippy or crunchy-I love Air Control by Aveda.

VALUE OPINIONS: I listen when my little sister takes a head to toe look at me, and says, "Hanesy, you can not wear that". Despite my initial hurt outcries/defenses, I believe one must always heed the advice of those younger, BECAUSE they are younger. They are ahead of you and I when it comes to style. In general: they are blunt, realize how old you are, and are vain enough to not want to be seen with one so out of touch. This is NOT to be confused with wearing clothes that you are too old for. Wet Seal and Aeropostale are meant for tweens-look at how old the models are in the ads. While in the que, if those in front AND behind you, are talking about Homecoming-drop the hangers and RUN! For instance my celeb style obsession is Joy Bryant. She's my age, and looks like herself in whatever she wears-AND is styled by Rachel Zoe. In other words-EVERYONE can use a second opinion every now and then, despite your own diagnosis.

Indian Rockstars

This commercial CRACKS me up in so many ways. This man looks like he could be my uncle, from the parted hair, to the mooooosetache. It's been for how long that Indians have been making other executives look great?! I love how the stereotype is made fun of, even the term "rockstar". It's "simbly vunderful". Talk smack about how we own Quick E-Marts all you want, but the truth is 1 out of 4 doctors in America, is Indian....the joke isn't so funny when you're lying on a stretcher is it? FYI-my people are raining on you hoes.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqLPHrCQr2I

Don't make me get technical with the Coach...

This is going to get me in some boiling water, but honey, call me chamomile! I'm ready to steep!

WHY, oh WHY the hell do you have that FUGLY Coach purse? Do you realize that Coach was created for the resort visiting retiree in her 50's? This is why our MOTHERS want them. WHO decided that monogram was chic? What is interesting about these patterns, and do they really go with everything? Be real, you want one because the bitch higher than you, had one.

If you want a Chanel purse but dress in blingy colors, and enjoy rhinestones, you should saw a phalange off. Chanel is created for those who wear all black everything, black cars, black cards, all black everything (HOV!)...and those who wear diamonds and pearls (Prince Rogers Nelson!). Think Audrey Hepburn or Anne Hathaway. SIMPLE. COVERED. CLASSIC.

If you have a Louis Vuitton wristlet, but don't know the impact of Marc Jacobs on footwear, jump into ongoing traffic. Louis is about fantasy and rarely can a person pull it off. Rhianna. Kerry Washington. Think PARIS. ALIENS. FLUSHED CHEEKS. What I'm trying to understand, is why YOU would want something that you have NO IDEA ABOUT? Look deep inside yourself and ask why a handbag makes you feel higher on the food chain.

Finally. If you MATCH your brown Coach purse, to your brown knee high boots (gag), to your Coach belt, to your coffee eyeshadow (pang in the chest), to your bronze lipstick, do me a favor. Off yourself. Don't be a "Cool Mom"...

And yes. I am an overread fashion snot. At least I don't believe my handbag improves my status in the world...that is all.

Can I get a "HEADS UP"?!

Why didn't anyone tell me that people buy houses and get married in real life? My life. Real life. I wish someone could have given me a heads up that this stuff really does happen. Where were the people that give other people heads up?! I mean, I could have possibly restrained myself from running up credit cards in college or maybe even dated worthwhile-ers. But no. The heads up people didn't even give me a clue that these things could happen. Great. SO now I'm left with bad credit and a gagillion years until the day I get married. Thanks a lot jerk faces. I am making a citizens arrest on all of you heads up people because you suck at your job and therefor life.

Seriously. When did this whole "grown-up" thing come into full effect? Was I too busy deciding whether or not I could wear a shirt as a dress (which I NO LONGER do. Thank YOU. I was in college getting more bang for my buck. Think 2-in-1)?Where was I when everyone decided to grow up?! Oh wait. I remember. I was wherever on God's green earth American Express was accepted, bashing men, vowing to never let a man bring me down with that ludicrous "love" bullshit. I remember.

Point is, everywhere I look (facebook) someone is getting engaged, having a slutty bachelorette party (a completely different post in itself), tying the knot or entering a 30+ year commitment, aka, buying a house. Who would have thought--we all turn into married, home-owning, baby-loving, grown-up versions of ourselves? No really, I'm asking you a question.

Looks like I have a lot of catching up to do; I have money to make and whatever it is you to do to get someone to marry you. First I think I need to go shopping. My clothes do NOT say "money-maker"- "marry me". Well they say "money maker", but it's not exactly the look I'm going for. Wish me luck and money! Lawd knows I need all the help I can get.

money. marry.

money. marry.

money. marry.

marry. money.

whoops.

Day 52 3/4

A day in the life of E.Torres

7am wake up!
Correction, I didn't really wake up as much as I had my eyes closed for most of the night. I don't think I fell asleep.

7:20 am Neti Pot
Oh how I love thee. You allow me to breathe through my nose for .5 seconds of the day. If you have allergies, peep the Neti pot. TRUST me. I will accept your gratitude in advance.


8:10am what you know about public transportation.
Caught the train to my work study at Zenon Dance Company. I'm pursuing my dance dreams. Ok, not really. Honestly, I don't have enough guts to do so. But I'm embarking on a free dance class journey. I felt a little Flash Dance like. I opened up the studios and swept the floors. I was all alone in front of mirrors, me and the broom. I looked out the windows to people with day jobs downtown. Ugh. My life is such a movie. This will more than likely happen next week before people anyone gets there



9:30 am Allergies.
So I have this God AWFUL thing called allergies. All I have to say is Fuck YOU allergies. I can't wear contacts currently. Any guesses why?! Allergies are the Devil

10:15am Peace Out Work Study
I had to cut out early, my contacts were painfully and slowly killing my eyes. If this is any sign of my dance dreams I am screwed. Oh wait, I don't have any.

10:30am Walking Home
Why is it that scary men sit under bridges? I mean they must know they look scary, WHY do they insist on chilling in the dark corners of a particularly bright day?

11:00am-5:00pm Lost Time
I honestly have NO idea what I did during this time. I only recall laying in front of the fan, positive I should go to the hospital.

5:20 pm Phone call
B-money called. Why is he teaching class and not at home? I am dying. I told him I was. He had to go-- students were arriving.

6:05 pm Still at Home
No Hospital

6:10 pm Phone Call
Rosie called. I told her I had the H-1. She told me to take my temp. No temp. No H-1.

6:45pm Phone Call
Huong called me. I told her about my recent near death experience earlier.

7:00 pm Nourishment
Stopped feeling like death for 20 minutes and picked up some Wonton Soup

7:45 pm Yum
Need I say more?

8:00 pm "The Office"
I had to catch up so I'd be ready for next season.

8:05 pm Slowly Melting
Apparently Wonton soup doesn't have a lasting "feel better" effect. I am back on the path to complete sickness.


9:05 pm VMAs
I didn't get to watch B's performance. "Put your hands in his FACE...Where my ring at?"
Thank you Beyonce for those words of wisdom. I however, would like my man to WANT to marry me. I'm just saying. I still love you though

Beyoncé - New Music - More Music Videos

9:15 pm Ugh
Kanye WHY are you such a dick?!

10:47pm God SPEED
I put my trust in you Neti. Sweet Dreams.

The Jobless Monster

Day 52

Once upon a time there was a girl. She was 24. She hated her job.It hated her. It tried to kill her soul and rip out her heart. She liked her coworkers. They pretty much loved her. The job paid the bills. She had a lot of bills. She got called into an "important" meeting. Getting laid-off is important enough. She still doesn't have a job. She still has bills. Obama gives her an extra $25 just for being cool and laid-off (until December 2009). She dances in front of the mirror instead of applying for jobs. Sometimes she dances in front of mirrors with other people. People like to call them dance classes.

Hardcore Weave Flippin' and Fake Lash Battin'

Rich Harrison created songs we DO adore-Crazy In Love by Beyonce, 1 Thing by Amerie, Get Right from J-lo...Now the producer has created a 4 woman group who is the hottest package since En Vogue. (yup, I said it) They are classy, beautiful in their own right, and EVERY ONE OF THEM can sing lead...ok...that HASN'T happened since En Vogue. I haven't been this excited for a LONG time....watch this video and you'll be going, "Elektric who?" These chickens work out for FOUR HOURS A DAY....

Here's the link to their video!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QLcQFqEKlRw

He Gotta Big Ego (Wait...is that an Express logo?)

You know the type: Nerdy glasses, skinny jeans, bright tennis shoes, with a serious case of Scarfitis. This fake "swag" de la nuevo metros, es NO BUENO! Where have all the beefy men gone?! (Kate Winslet in Titanic floatin on the piece of wood- Come back! whistle whistle Come back!) I pronounce this the Death of the Urban Hipster.

The most hilarious point about these ladymen are their claims of being into fashion...how they're unique...have their own style...when really they've been following every MOVE, LYRIC, THROAT CLEARANCE (ahe ahem), and STYLEPOINT from Jay-Z as quickly as they can. The throwbacks, to the buttonups. Now, the wannabe Hustla, has turned into the wannabe Businessman. For instance, if you are a man whose eyebrows are more precise than mine, claim to be "Kind of a big deal", and have an Express Men logo on your chest...you are what we called in middle school, a fuckin' poser. You never drank cognac til Jay-Z told you to! There's nothing wrong with Express, just don't front like you wanna go to Milan with Yeezy for Fashion Week.

I can't afford Thierry Mugler like Beyonce....but I don't stunt in my Target Go! International as if I'm better than you. I ADMIT my haircolor was inspired by the Beyonce Experience Tour DVD. I DROPPED the eyeliner and went for a nude lip when she did. I WISH I could do the Check on It dance, and I TRY!! I ADMIT that I'm on her jock! The concepts of "Bourgeious" and "Pretentious" do NOT hold correlation with one another. So guys, if you're in the shower chanting, "Ho-VA, Ho-VA!", stand around at Seven talkin about how you're "Doin' Big Things", and still attend college parties: I C U like Abbot Northwestern Hospital (shout out to Mummy)!!!!! For God's sake, find yourself.....
Cuz the Roc is CERTAINLY not in the building.

The Peanut Butter Brickhouse

Ah, hello! Wanting to keep things fresh, Erica America asked me to share my perspective. My name's Anu, and I'm the new co-contributer to JustBelieveMe! We've been BFF's for five years, and talk about high snobiety, relationships, politics, and false eyelashes on the regular. Neither of us will ever turn down a cheeseburger. We care about others, a lot...we're Chatty Cathy's, both brown, and would say that the other woman is stronger (lemme tell ya, that's a lot of muscle).

The differences? E has a BF. I. Do. Not. She sips wine. I chug beer. She's a dreamer...I'm logical. E loves Mary J. Blige, I think she's totally overrated. I love babies, Erica IS a baby =) you get the idea.

I have much to say, am really dramatic, and heart adjectives...I hope my reality allows you to laugh til ya pee, drop your jaw in horror, and offer to be that new thing you learned today.

Oh! And why the name? Well...my skin's the color of Skippy. I always associate the jelly counterpart with stickin' to your ribs and the roof of your mouth (Holding you down, and kinda making you uncomfortable). The old jam, "Brickhouse" by The Commodores is about me....Put your hands together aaaaaaand:

"Shake it down, shake it down nooooow!"

Erica Still Got It.

So, I went to Cali this past weekend-- landed in Sac-town, made my way to Berkeley and eventually San Fran. I ate my $.79/pound cherries (I know right), went to Alcatraz, walked up hills that seemed to last forever, discovered where "hella" originated and ate food like I was a poster-child for America's obesity epidemic. But there was one thing that stood out above all, that you can't get on a tour (well maybe you could, but that's not the point)-- I got hit on by an ASIAN boy.

STOP THE MOTHER F'IN PRESSES!

"An Asian you say Erica?" Yes, my foaming with anticipation friends, an ASIAN. Let me back this up, I was not just hit on by ONE Asian, but there were A FEW looking my way.

My first reaction was to check and see if my dress was tucked into my panties or maybe I had a "kick me" sign on my back. Nope, nothing. They were just looking at me. Erica with the "birthin-hips" and the hair that can't get big enough. Erica with the bright orange fingernails and turquoise rings. Erica with the ridiculous amount of bangles. They were looking at me! Erica, never-gets-hit-on-by-Asians, Erica!

Not interested, but noteworthy just the same.

Point is, Erica still got it.

The Top 10 of My 1st Blind Date

10) It lasted 50 minutes bc he wanted to watch Game 1 of the finals.
9) He asked me to go out 'drinking and dancing' within five minutes of sitting down.
8) He glanced down at my chest throughout the expressdate like an 8th grader.
7) When the waitress asked if we wanted Apps, I said, "Ooh do you like egg rolls or chicken wings?" He shook his head briskly. (Clearly he wanted to save a few bucks.)
6) He checked his watch and texted between bites.
5) After pressuring me to say, "How are you" in my language, he said, "Ah (lick of lips), Sexy."
4) The food sucked.
3) "Indians are so smart, why do you just do hair?"
2) When the check came, I offered to pay. His response? "No...it isn't too much. I can do it."
1) He laughed like the Candleabra in Beauty and the Beast (throaty French HO HO HOOOO).

Signing Off,
Anu

A Bourgeious Brazilian Attempt

In the hopes of putting a lil "spring in my step", I waxed my chocha. There is no new man in my life. No bikini clad vacation in my calendar. Hell, not even an introductory price. After endless episodes of Sex and the City, articles in Marie Claire, and Gisele (my BFF), I heard that a Brazilian wax makes you feel fresh, liberated, FIERCE! It was time for my world to be a little more bourgeious. I had hit a dry spell of working 40 hours a week, no guy to call, and wanted to do something for ME. I DESERVED THIS.

I popped two Tylenol and headed to Dinkytown to feel like the Independant Woman Neyo remixed with Jamie Foxx...Next thing dontchaknow, I was laying on what felt like a doctor's table, dress around my waist, and being told to breathe in...It was when I saw the popsicle stick, gooey with a NATURAL soy-based substance, that I realized this was so UNnatural. First came the heat, then came the yank, and finally, the stars. The esthiologist tried to distract me with conversations of Hawaii. My stammers turned into yelps, "I heard in Oahu a gallon of milk costs ten BUCKS-FUCKERS, OH GOD!" Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. I was paying for excruciating pain. I was twitching because I DESERVED THIS?! Fresh? More like Big Baby Jesus RAW. I felt the opposite of liberated, I was under the command of Angelica, the slave driver. (these people must really dig S&M, the way they bark out). There was nothing fierce about bending my knees into acute angles. Ugh, I have fallen a victim to Vogue standards AGAIN. Twenty minutes later, I was left with a washcloth and azulene oil to pat myself down. As I counted my bill out in ones, I paused to wipe the sweat off my upper lip (whichIwouldwaxmyselfathomethanksbye), and shook my head at the next victim. Her eyes widened, and glazed over my counting, "Even strippers feel the pain? Oh. Em. Gee." (Actually, I have the ones because I'm a hairdresser, I was just trying to tell you to RUN BITCH-RUN!)

In my car, I fumbled for my parking validation, downed a bottle of water, and let the AC upskirt me. In the mirror, I saw my eyeliner had smeared, my baby hairs had formed a halo around my face, and I was still panting...I tilted the mirror down and looked at what I DESERVED. I kinda liked it. It WAS kind of adorable...desirable...definitely red....but maybe, worth it. Two days later, I'm fuzz free...Slick...And absolutely bourgeious. Will I wax again? Probably. Was the experience what I thought it would be? Hell to the NO. Way more painful....times 72. Lesson learned-feeling like Samantha Jones has very little to do with what her hooha looks like, but how she uses its POWER. Now. Either I need to get some action, or I'm walking around in a leotard like Lady Gaga.

Signing Off,

Anu

The Peanut Butter Brickhouse

Go-to's not to be confused with the GO-TO

Just an FYI, I have officially cut ties with my go-to's and quite honestly, it gives me a little agita.

If you don't know what a go-to is, look at your recent texts from last Saturday night, or the last time it rained. Who did you text on this particularly lonesome, dreary day when all you wanted to do was cuddle? Who was that unsuspecting soul you texted at bar close after a few drinks and watching all those inebriated individuals dancing/kissing when there was no more music playing? THAT, ladies and gents, would be your go to. That person you can always count on for a few dates here and there or a night of cuddling when you don't feel like kickin it with the peeps/ Maybe just some simple text action when everyone is off somewhere else and you realize you've become the newest animal in the zoo to the group of dudes/females across the room (you'd rather just pretend this is not happening, again). Or simply boredom. Any who, in all of the above situations and in countless others, you have your go-to.

I've watched countless friends bounce back to their go-to's after or in between relationships, in times of boredom or inebriation. Many don't admit to the fact these are go-to's because they'd rather not be so black and white--well I'm not too much into shades of grey lately, it doesn't compliment my skin. They're go-to's.

Much to my own dismay, I have witnessed other friends as the go-to's. That's what got me thinking; this whole go-to thing, could be just bad karma.

Now I, for obvious reasons, have cut the fat in my life; it's more or less a lifestyle change. Oddly enough, I have come to the realization that go-to's count on being your go-to, so when communication is cut, it has a sort of fish out of water effect on them. I even had to give one an explanation so he'd get the hint (kind of). I've witnessed my go-to friends react the same way, an odd sense of denial, that the grey area is the "where you want to be" area.

But in releasing my previously mentioned go-to's, I have stumbled upon another type of GO-TO that has me thinking the other go-to's are actually more insignificant then I ever thought. Talk about insignificant other, I like having a significant other. The one I can go to at any time of day, about any sort of thing. The kind of GO-TO where I am happy to be their GO-TO. The GO-TO that makes it all better. The -GO-TO that makes your go-to's an unnecessary part of life. the one that makes you want to go from a go-to to a GO-TO.

Miguel said it best, at least I think this is what he was referring to:

"microwaves, toasters and grills won't solve your problems (they'll solve them)

one at a time"

In other words, no need for the trends when you'll always have your little black dress.

I hope to have a GO-TO one day forever. May you find your GO-TO (at least one for now) and never become a go-to ever. Ever, ever. The decision of whether or not you keep go-to's is your own deal.
Fin.

i keep my hair looking the bombdest

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I kind of think my hair is great. To think, I hated my hair when I was little. But in my defense, I had this hairstyle for awhile that was very Hasidic Jew. Anywho... it took me a really long time to find the hair products that moisturize my hair situation and keep it in check. I hope one day you all will be given the gift of fabulous hair!

Random. I know. Leave it alone.

Love you too!

Lesson 1: Drama's no fun when you're not the one causing it.

Yea, so, I was talking to my friend Marcel, he is what you would call a "man's man"(trust me--great friend, good guy, but wow, I would steer clear if I were you--I tell him this on the regular) and we were discussing men and women as usual. I DO agree with him, women love them some drama--I don't care what you say. My mother puts her stamp of approval on this as well. Now, I am not talking cheating on your man drama/throwing his clothes out the window drama, just the "why don't you buy me flowers, so and so gets flowers". You know you do it/have done it, I've seen you--don't even try to play like you haven't.

Por ejemplo: Me? I LOVE attention, just like B. Spears say, "give me, give me, give me, give me MORE", and when I'm not getting it, someone is going to know. So yes, I may have caused a little drama in the past to get my point across, but all worked out in the end and I got the attention I deserve. Yes, I said DESERVE. It's serious in these streets, thanks. Unfortunately, I have learned, when you're not causing the drama, it's not fun and it is no longer a game.

Imagine this, He/She makes you happy, you make them happy--it's pretty much an euphoria that you never want to end. Then imagine texts, phone calls, conversations, anything or everything that have no business sprouting seeds in your fantasy land.

Now maybe I have matured as a woman, but circumstances have made me realize I am no longer interested in drama, causing it or being on the receiving end of it--because there's nothing in it for me. It's not fun anymore. I'm not 16. I know you're not interested in singing "the boy is mine" in your room (although, I call Monica if shit hits the fan) and neither am I. If there's one thing I learned, when a man wants you, he wants you. You won't question his motives and he WILL bring you flowers. His clothes will stay hung in his closet--no need to throw those clothes out the window--because you're his woman.

For me, I will remember what he said a while back, when I wasn't even sure what was happening or what I was feeling, just understanding it was so organic and natural, he said "I think I love her though, everything is wonderful". And at that point you can just turn back, smile and skip forward (and pray to GOD that line was about you because you just blogged it).

No more drama, thank you Mary.

Stop Hating Me, Because I Love You!

As much as mis amigos like to think I'm boo-ed up and this is to blame for my absence, it's quite the contrary. I am the party planner. I am your go to girl. I am your life. Ok, I am really not. Not at all actually. But I pretty much make your world-go-round. Ok, not that either, but I like to tickle my fancy every once in awhile. I have really not went ghost in any way shape or form. I have just been busy. Busy on a shoot. Busy contemplating my next moves. Busy getting up at 5am to work an 11-hour day with no lunch. Busy sleeping. Busy being sick. Busy not being able to sleep at night because I have developed asthma (ok, not that either, just sick). Ok, so yea, busy with my man friend. Busy trying to network and schmooze. And finally, too busy to call/text/gchat/aim/email all you heffers to get us all together. More importantly, I am lacking vitamin D right now, so I have pretty much shut down for the winter. Luckily, I have invested in some multi-vitamins, some other miracle vitamins, upped my omega 3 fatty acids and should be your party girl once again. So please stop hating me; I love you and I always will. I can be your party girl once again, if you just let me back in.

kisses.
e