Life. Men. Alcohol. Shoes.

Monday, January 29

Life Outside New York

Yes, I do leave New York. Once the snow starts falling and the temperature drops, I get the itch. If all works out, over the next few months, I’ll be jet setting to two incredibly fantastic music festivals:

First up South by Southwest
Last night a good friend mentioned that his band just booked a number of shows at the Austin, TX music/film festival. Since I haven’t managed to catch one of his shows in either Hoboken or Williamsburg, I figure booking a plane ticket is the best way to make sure I actually attend the show.
The inspiration for this trip hit last night, so I still need to have a travel buddy for the trip. My guy friend will be busy - you know - being a rockstar and doesn't need to entertain me the whole time. However, I am determined.

Jazz Fest
After college, my girlfriends and I religiously attended Jazz Fest. Then they started getting married and the annual pilgrimage stopped. This year, with all the wedding festivities behind us, the trip is back on...

The New Orleans Jazz Fest is unlike any outdoor music festival. If you haven't been it is hard to explain. Yeah, the musical line-ups of Bonnaroo or Coachella are seemingly more my speed... But Jazz Fest is no ordinary music festival. The people, the music, the ambiance, the food, its (dare I say) a nearly religious experience. You can't explain it, but everyone on the fairgrounds knows it. When you are there you are part of something big. It is not uncommon to hear people talk of it being their 10th or 15th Jazz Fest.

Note to my college girls -- I've put it on the dossier.

Wednesday, January 24

My First Music

Simple question, "What was your first music purchase ever?" Such embarrassment.

First '45': "We Are The World"
First record: Tiffany
First Tape: "The Go-Gos"
First CDs: Beastie Boys 'License to Ill"
First Music Video: Billy Idol's 'Rock the Cradle of Love'

Monday, January 22

Pedigrees, they aren’t just for canines

Single women weigh a potential dates' pedigree nearly as heavily as physical-attractiveness. I can hardly have a conversation with my friends without someone uttering the phrase -- “he’s good on paper”.

Sadly, there is no official society which distributes pedigree papers, so we are forced to mentally construct the man’s pedigree as we get to know them. We pool tidbits from their life history and the social network. From here, we weigh their pedigree to determine date-ability and hook-up potential.

However, there is such a thing as the T.M.I Pedigree. Concerning childhood friends or college friends, we should overlook their extensive pedigree, as all too often having too much information leads to dating paralysis.
No doubt, the friend who says, “he is husband material” will undoubtedly choke on her next date.

As Elle so eloquently paraphrased yesterday, “Take the penis off the pedestal.”

Then they are those instances, when you won't consider your wing-man as more that just that, because at the start of your 10-year (+) history, he dated a mutual friend. (A mutual friend who coincidentally is now happily married to another man.)

At some point we need to accept that history is history, and doesn't belong the pedigree evaluation.

Tuesday, January 16

NYC Guy Profile #6 – The Houseguest

Age: 29
Height: 5'11"
Build: Medium
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Blond
Profession: Architect
Residence: Chicago, IL

Meeting Synopsis: When you live in NYC,
weekend houseguests are a regular occurrence. This past weekend, my roommate hosted a friend who was in NYC to interview for a new position. When he arrived on Saturday I didn’t take much notice, as I was suffering was a massive wine hangover and in the middle of Ikea furniture assembly.

The Details: Sunday evening (of a 3-day weekend), my roommate calls it a night around 10PM, leaving the Houseguest and alone watching a Sunday night movie. Following my evening shower, I reseat myself on the couch to catch the tale end of Forrest Gump. As I do, the Houseguest comments, “You are a real cutie.” Unexpected but nice, I thank him for the compliment. Next thing I know, he leans over and kisses me. I start laughing at the unexpected move. He misinterprets my laughter and apologizes for being so forward, confessing he feels quite foolish for having done it. I explain that I was caught off guard -- after all this in my house on a Sunday evening, we’re both stone cold sober and he came out of left field. By now, he’s a bundle of nerves and has begun explaining that he noticed me the second he arrived, and he was disappointed that I hadn’t met up with them on Saturday night because he was prepared do something about it then, and since he was leaving the next day, he figured there was little to lose…

I couldn’t help but realize the Houseguest fed me more compliments in 5 minutes that I received from
this guy over 5 months, so when he asked if he could kiss me again, I quickly weighed my options: It is Sunday night. It is two hours before bed. There is a lame movie on TV. He’s cute if you like that blond haired, Aiden-type of guy. And there wasn’t much else to do. I decided a make out session on the couch was harmless.

Deal Breaker: None, aside from that whole living in Chicago thing. Monday afternoon as he was leaving the apartment, my roommate was there to see him off. After he settled into his cab to the airport, he sent me a couple texts to say goodbye, in a more personal way that was afforded in front of my roommate.

The Crowning Glory: My hair is wavy, curly. The type of hair that has a tendency to look tousled and sexed-up, especially after a post-shower hook-up. Monday afternoon, I’m having a particularly fantastic hair day and am walking through the East Village spilling all details of the night before to
Blondie. At that VERY moment I tell her, “Out of nowhere, the Houseguest kisses me...” the Producer steps in front of me. Grinning at me he says, “Hey Downtown.” I acknowledge him with a quick half smile, motion to my cell phone pointing out that I was deep in conversation and kept walking. I couldn’t have timed it better…

Tuesday, January 9

Sucker Punched

Yesterday, Blondie (aka Cougar) ever so casually sucker punched me. During a run-of-the-mill phone conversation, she's sharing stories about her weekend antics with her current crush. At which time, she mentions that she had recently hung out with The Producer.

Background: It's been nearly three weeks and aside from a little moping around the day of the talk, I've suffered very little break-up distress. There have been a couple twings of how-could-I-be-so-stupid/blind/niave, however I've been impressively quite confident.

Then Blondie sucker punched me. She reminded me he existed. Suddenly there was no air in my lungs. How did it get hot so quickly? I mentally spun through the cycle of questions which should never be asked: didheaskaboutme?, didhesayanything?, didshesayanything?, washetalkingaboutsomeonenew?

Prescription to treat sucker punch:

One bottle of red wine
5 cigarettes
50 minutes on the phone with a dear friend
8 hours of sleep

Twelve hours later, my reasoning is intact. Ending something with someone is never glamourous. However since it took me nearly three weeks to have my first panic attack, full recovery can't be far away... Appropriately enough, there is a fantastic party planned for Saturday night, and a second even more fabulous party planned for next Thursday. That's all the distraction I need.

Monday, January 8

I'm sure you can relate...

Recently, Ivy and I found ourselves enjoying ourselves a bit too much as we discussed the never funny topic of eating disorders. Often my friends keep their odd food behaviors to themselves, after all who wants your friend po-poing you, or trying to sabatoage your weight loss strategy scheme. A few diets which our friends, or Ivy and I personally tried to sustain on, include:

  1. Anorexia – Sustain yourself on lettuce and mini boxes of raisins, see how long you last without passing out
  2. Bulimia – It's a great idea at the beginning (Yum, eat the entire plate of cookies) which turns into a whole lot of regret
  3. Laxatives - Desperation and true hatred for one's body
  4. Weight Watchers – Calculated anorexia insanity. How few points (or bowls of that awful pointless soup) can you eat in one day? Brag to friends about sustaining on 16 points/day for a week
  5. Pria or Luna Bars Only – If you can overlook the inevitable constipation, you have lots of tasty options to chose from
  6. All (Insert Anything) diet - Why are these diets always for things like grapefruit,tomato and rice soup, broccoli or plain oatmeal. It would be great to lose weight on an All Spicy Tuna Roll diet or All Macaroni and Cheese diet
  7. Wedding Crash Diet – Always love seeing a wedding photo album where the bride does not look a thing like her true self. Sometimes it is impossible to recognize the overly tan, skeleton in the photo as your 150 pound, translucent-pale friend
  8. Coffee and Cigarettes – Does not do much for your oral health, but you look great in your jeans. Now if you can only get to sleep
  9. Sleeping Pills - If you are sleeping you can't be eating
  10. Heartbreak – True this severe weight-loss could be linked to stress, but I think it has more to do with the realization (and accompanying fear) that in order to ever have sex again, another person is going to see you naked
  11. Stress – Food, who has time when your phone won’t stop ringing
  12. Gymrexia – Obsession with burning off every single calorie eaten during the day, kept in a copious "food diary", plus an additional 150 for good measure. Cause you know those machines don’t accurately report calories burned
  13. Water, Water, Water - Just carrying the Poland Spring bottle burns an extra 100 calories, not to mention all those trips to the bathroom
  14. The Bender - Liquid calories only supported by bi-weekly calls to your delivery service
  15. Lean-Cruise Delirium – Mental mind tricks and creative spice rack combinations to trick yourself into thinking the microwave dinner are in anyway satisfying

Often, one crash diet approach isn't enough, so we start combining our misguided rationales into even healthier combinations. Popular combinations include: 12 and 2, 11 and 4, 9 and 7, the possibilities are endless...

Ah, then to make sure you aren't missing any essential nutrients or causing long-term damage to your body, take a daily multivitamin and calcium pill. Sick, ladies. We'll all sick.

Thursday, January 4

Bookstore Pick-Up

Wasting time in the NYC book section of the Astor Place Barnes & Noble, someone standing next to me says, “I love the color of your jacket.” I look up to see a Russell Simmons look-a-like standing next to me and respond, “Um, thanks it is brown.” As I keep browsing, he explains to me that “brown is a very deep color. The individual who chooses to wear brown instead of black is showing complexity.”

Seeing that he doesn't have my interest, he inquires about an author whose book I am holding. Faced with a direct question that involves full sentences vs. a general ‘yes’ or ‘no’, I decide that it is easier to respond. We ended up in a conversation about books and authors, each recommending a book to the other. He gives me his name and I instinctively provide my bar name “I'm Roxie.”

At this point, people around us are eavesdropping. (If it weren't me being hit on, I’d do the exact same thing.) He then leans over and says, “I’m so glad you aren’t wearing any make-up. You are very beautiful and when I kiss your cheek my lips will be on your on bare skin.”

DID HE REALLY JUST SAY THAT!?! At this point, it occurs to me. This isn't real. I’m being Punk’d. Alright, since I’m not famous, I'm on MTV’s Breaking Point. Cause no real person would ever say that.

I tell him that he is inappropriate and he needs to go away. He quickly disappears behind the 2007 calendars.

Immediately, people start chuckling… I keep looking at the shelf waiting for the camera guy or producer to approach and ask for my signature on the release form. No one approaches. This can’t be for real. No one would actually say that. No one came over. So I can only assume it was a very, very sad attempt at the bookstore pick-up. How utterly cliche!

Wednesday, January 3

I guess this makes me a feminist

Question: Where does the following take place?

If a married woman "earned or inherited any money, it was [her husband's]. Men owned their children. . . . A woman's body belonged to her husband, no matter how brutal or syphilitic he might be. If a woman was raped, it was her disgrace. . . . Few jobs were open to women -- mostly domestic service, teaching children and prostitution." Women did not have the right to vote, and abortion was illegal.”

Iraq…. No
Afghanistan… Nope
China… Not close

That’s New York City in the 1890’s. The copy is excerpted from
“Sex Wars: A Novel of the Gilded Age in New York” by Marge Percy. I just finished reading this at the wee hours of the morning. Originally, I picked up the book for a yester-year look at my Lower East Side neighborhood. (Bring back the Ludlow Jail for the Saturday night drunkards. But, I’ll pass on the Houston Street brothels). The storyline follows early feminists: Victoria Woodhull (the first woman to run for U.S. President), Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady.

Until I read this book, when I thought of feminism automatically Smith College girls came to mind -- unshaven, lesbians, who hate men. (Youch - what an awful stereotype!) After finishing the book, I now have a whole new perspective. My fierce independence, my bank account, my self-supporting job, my Nuva-Ring, the freedom to travel… All thanks to these early feminists.

While there doesn't seem to be an overly active feminist movement these days, it seems women are still claiming ground. Consider that 100 years ago, few jobs were open to women. It is fitting that this week Nancy Pellosi becomes the first woman to act as Speaker of the House. It doesn't seem too far beyond the realm of possibilities for a woman president in the next 25 years...