Monthly Archives: November 2009

Face the Facts.

When I first started this blog, I thought it would be like a track record of my work…or my attempts. I planed to merely inject some humor into the difficulty of having a stable place in the magazine/publishing world. Somewhere along the way the lines that separated my personal life from my work became a blur. That blur allowed this blog to become a safe place for my many ramblings and occasional craziness, So I just let it happen, for once I went with the flow.

Lately, in my attempts to grow up and actually feel like an adult, I’ve linked all my social networ4ks to one another, All except this blog. These entries, these words have become more than just an attempt at anything, I’ve literally barred my soul within these pages, sharing my joy along with my pain. Telling the world, my good, my bad and my ugly. I hesitated to link this for those reasons. This was all just…too honest. Too raw for the people closest to me to see.

I’ve never been the type to react well to confrontation, I tend to get very defensive and it doesn’t help that I have a temper with a short fuse. I don’t like being judged, well I don’t think anyone actually enjoys being judged. I’ve never been the type to give you a play-by-play explanation of my actions and lets face, I probably won’t ever be that girl. But, part of growing up is facing the world with your head held high. Putting all your cards on the table and calling the bluff.

So here I go…Hello you, welcome to my world.

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Being Belle in a man’s world.

A trade as old as time: Prostitution.

One woman shocked the world with her “spare no detail” accounts of her intimate adventures as a London call girl. Her blog became so popular that it turned into 3 books and a hit show on Showtime. Taking the world by storm, Belle de Jour brought the hot, raunchy truth right into our living rooms and became our favorite dirty little secret.

Her identity remained anonymous, both on her blog and the show, until now. Dr. Brooke Magnanti revealed herself as the woman behind the words of Belle de Jour, this week in The Sunday Times. She explained that while she had planned to remain anonymous, she feared that a former flame was going to out her to the public. So naturally, our little Belle had to beat him to the punch. She went on to say that “Belle and the person who wrote her had been apart too long. I had to bring them back together.

So why is it that a woman with a PhD is being cast out and judged for simply having the nerve to tell it like it is? She’s not the first woman to use her body as a mean to pay for school, and you know she won’t be the last. Instead of being damned, shouldn’t she be applauded? For making her own way…without leaning on anyone’s shoulders? Let me rephrase that. For making her own way without leaning on a man’s shoulders?

Why is it that since birth women are prepped, primped and polished? Some mothers’ teach their daughters to be ladylike and polite, while others teach their daughters to be strong and opinionated. One thing they always tell us is that it’s a man’s world. A statement that through the ages, has kept women working twice as hard just to prove they belong.

A wise woman once said “I don’t mind living in a man’s world, as long as I can be a woman in it.” Her lifestyle ultimately shaped the views of a nation, becoming the stepping stone for a society where women use their sexuality as a weapon. A way of thinking where sex sells and power is everything. So why are we still fighting for it more than a decade later?

Are the Monroe’s of our time still topping the female power charts? In a world where a woman ran for President and actually had a fighting chance? Where women are continuously dominating the charts in music, film and non-profits without showing a little skin. Perhaps it was never female sexuality that was the weapon, maybe it was pure female spirit. Tell a woman she can’t start a business and she’ll build you an empire.

I guess in the end, it’s true what they say. You’re damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

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Officially, Home Sweet Home.

It was only a matter of time before I found myself at the local hospital in my new city, I tend to make at least one trip a year to the ER :/ What can I say? It just happens.

Last night was that day for me and just in time too. I was feeling way too comfortable in this big bad city of angels. Since I had just gotten over a case of pink eye in both eyes, I had been wearing my glasses for a few days so my eyes could heal. I finally put my contacts back in on Friday and naturally I feel asleep in them too.

So I wake up on Saturday with bloodshot eyes looking like I just fought my way back out of hell. I wasn’t too freaked though, thinking that I had just contracted pink eye again. The panic came after I removed my contacts, and realized that my vision was totally off. It was like looking through a thick cloud of smoke when there was none. My eyes were also highly sensitive to light and wind.

I finally figured out that I must have scratched my cornea…again. My Mom wasn’t too happy to find that we were doing this again when she dropped me off at the nearest emergency room. I walked in dressed in sweats, looking like hell with my hair having a field day and topped off with classic aviator sunglasses. It was quite a spectacle. I have to admit.

I was surprised though, by how small the ER was in comparison to the ones in Miami. More surprised to hear people complaining about the wait and how full the tiny room was…when there we still empty seats. Even more shocking was actually being registered, treated and discharged within 2 hours. An average trip to the emergency room in Miami was at least a 5 hour thing.

Anyway, since this was my second time scratching my cornea, I remembered the Doc giving me these drops that numb your eye thus eliminating the pain. Try to imagine having a gash and pouring salt water on it. Now imagine that gash was on your eyeball. Okay, now multiply that by 10 and you’ve got an idea at my level of pain. It was like someone setting my eye on fire and trying to put out that fire with cooking oil.

Needless to say, I was fiending for those drops like a junkie looking for a fix. A fact that I made sure to express to the nurse you checked me in. Let me tell you, those drops were like a little piece of heaven. If hard core drugs give you that kind of bliss, I have to say I see the appeal. So, thanks to the kind and efficient nurses, doctors and staff at the hospital, I am slowly recurring from my big scratch…again.

Good thing too, because I’m a big fan of seeing.

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Drop of fear.

She is stands cold. She is rock solid. She stands there, alone with her chin held high. She knows the price she pays, still she looks the other way. It is always easier to hear the truth, than to see it for yourself. This cold, dark world has the power to tear her to shreds, yet here she is. This cold, dark world is not her biggest fear. “Oh cruel world,” she says, “give me shelter.” Pain she can manage. Loss she can survive. Love…love is another story.

Love is something to be feared. It has the power to destroy, humiliate and turn your entire life upside down. And that is merely the beginning. Love can turn even the most confident woman in the world into a sad, insecure little girl. A girl who is hopeful and lost, waiting for a happy ending that may never come her way.

A bit cynical? Perhaps. Is she jaded? To the core. But the true question is, does she still believe in love? YES, she does. Which is exactly why it scares her deep into her soul. Her very essence trembles at even the thought of love approaching.

What makes a strong, confident woman shiver in her Jimmy Choos at the mere thought of something so seemingly harmless? That no matter how many times she is hurt. No matter how many broken hearts she endures at the hand of love…she would still willingly let love in. One more time. To face her fear? Maybe. The fact is that in the end of the day, love is what it all comes down to. Even when it’s over, LOVE is always worth the ride.

So, do you have a ticket?

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Rolling with the Punches.

With the state of the nation still putting itself back together and Obama trying to pull this country out of a serious recession, everyone is feeling the heat. Still glad you voted for Bush? The second time too? I guess the conservative should have listened to all those liberals when they had the chance, a consequence we all pay for now. But enough of the gloomy.

While many industries are taking a plunge and scrounging to make money by cutting budgets, the fashion world is taking an even bolder step. Welcome “Rent the Runway,” the first ever rental service for designer dresses. An innovative idea to say the least, when the American people are cutting back on spending, RTR will serve as a new alternative to buying that $2,000 Gucci dress. Why dish out the big bucks when you can rent it for a fraction of the price?

All rentals will range from $50 to $250 and are yours to wear for 4 days. After which you simply put the clothes in a prepaid bag and drop it in the mail. Simple as that and just in time for the massive holiday parties coming your way.

Check it out at http://renttherunway.com/

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Happy Birthday Jones Hollywood!!!

REVIEW for HUNGRY? City Guides 🙂

In a diverse city like Los Angeles, with food spots at every corner, ranging from Middle Eastern cuisine to Sushi heaven finding a place to eat is never an issue. Now deciding which one to eat at, that’s an everyday issue that riddles even the savviest LA foodie. Ever wish you could find a hip, low key spot to eat? Someplace that spoils you with scrumptious appetizers, mind blowing entrees and “call me a cab” drinks?

If so please give a warm welcome and say Hellooo to Jones Hollywood! Hidden deep in the West Hollywood streets, covered with brick walls and bright lights is where you’ll find it. This cozy hot spot will have you feeling at home from the moment you walk in and pondering on their always positive fortunes cookies on your way out. You can hang out in the lounge area or have a drink by the bar or even bring the family for dinner. It’s a one stop shop bringing you the best in Italian cuisine.

Jones may be hidden, but it’s no stranger to the limelight, not with local icons stopping in for a bite. Among them, other local celebs that have kept this yummy hot spot their little secret and for much longer than you might think.

Fifteen years to be exact. This past Tuesday, Jones celebrated its’ 15th year anniversary with a packed house of loyal customers, new faces and your local celeb or two. Nonetheless, everyone enjoyed the special $5 menu, featuring some of their signature dishes and house favorites. Personally, since it was my first time that night, I started off with their signature drink “Jonesy’s Jukebox.” I’m not completely sure what was in it, but it had a citrus taste to it making it feel like you were being energized while sinking into pure bliss. After two of those, along with the fried calamari with a spicy sauce, I was in heaven.

Given that Jones is an Italian restaurant, I just had to try one of their pizzas. I opted for the BBQ Chicken pizza and I must say, that was the best pizza I have ever tasted in my life. New York and Chicago style pizzas don’t have a thing on Jones pizza. I finished off my night with an apple pie dessert. Now I’ve had homemade apple pie before, but I’ve never had one quite like this. Words cannot describe…I guess you’ll have to try this one for yourself. Oh and, let me know if you find the words.

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Head Vs. Heart

When you ended it, I felt such an intense sadness that seemed to radiate down to my very bones. It was an emotional and physical pain that reached me on a soul level. Still, at the same time, when I realized you were serious. When I realized that you meant every cruel word that was coming out of your once heavenly lips. My entire world came crashing down on me, it crashed in a way that I didn’t even know was possible. It felt like I had build my castle with sand instead of bricks and you were my tsunami.

At that very moment, I let go of all the things that I had been holding onto so dearly. I let go of us. Of our dreams. Our goals. Our life together. In that moment, through my heartbreak, I knew that you were right. I knew that we were only holding each other back. Whether or not we loved each other was not the issue. We just weren’t meant to be. Maybe we never were…we just happened.

After that, I pushed all those feelings I had for you…my love, my pain, my sadness. I pushed them deep into myself. I hid them and locked them away where they could never get to me again. I thought this was for the best, you know to just put it behind me and quit cold turkey. So I did what I always do. I wiped away my tears, packed my bags and moved on. Well, I moved 3,000 miles away to be exact, but that was my point. To be far away, thinking that if I was far we could both have a fighting chance at having a new life.

And at first, it felt right. You were right, a huge part of me wanted to be in LA and I would have resented you for it if I had stayed. For that, I thank you. If I’ve learned anything from all this, it’s that you have to follow your heart. Always. When you think about something too much, you will always convince yourself to do what other people think is right for you. The mind is a tricky thing, and the reality of it is that no one knows what is best for you better than you. I had to learn this the hard way.

The problem? Well I didn’t exactly deal with the break-up, I just pushed it aside and kept busy. Now that I’m here and settled and not so busy, I seem to find my mind wandering back to those days. If that isn’t bad enough, I can’t feel anything about it. Which just annoys me because I can’t stop thinking about it either. Have I pushed it so deep that I turned myself cold? Was the pain so bad that I won’t allow myself to feel it? What really scares me is that when I do get sad and my eyes start to water, I snap out of it…whether I want to or not. I never had trouble letting myself get emotional, until now.

In all honesty, it makes me nervous that I have no control over these feelings. What’s going to happen when I love someone else? Will that new love push me over the edge? I don’t expect you to have the answers, I just need my feelings to be heard. Known. Understood. Felt.

By someone other than me.

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