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.