Making the First Move

Making the first move...just a guy's job? Certainly not anymore.

My friends and I have been talking about this lately. It's more than just about who should do it...because let's face it, at the end of the day, we all want the guy to make the first move but sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands. Rather, the burning question is WHEN/IF does the girl make the first move?

Step one is usually to determine if the person is into you. This includes determining level and intensity of eye contact, physical brushes, conversations being had and the looks your friends are giving you. If it's determined that the situation could end favorably for all, the second step is...

When to make the move. Right away? If it's a bar setting, where you may not see this person again, the answer is yes. But that's easy. What if this person is a friend or someone you see on a regular basis. You don't want to make the move too early, especially if the potential exists for something long term. You want the timing to be right.

So let's just say you have determined the person is into you and you know when you can make the first move. This is fairly easy. The most important question of all is...

DO you make the first move? Again, if this is a bar situation, chances are there are no real-world consequences. Not unless you do something stupid, but I'm not talking those kinds of first moves. That's another blog entirely.

No, I mean the type of move that could make things awkward. If they don't go your way that is. I'm not going to say I'm in this situation myself...but oh, f* it, I'm in this situation and it's quite the internal debate.

After talking about it with several friends, two camps have formed.

1.) The camp that says screw it, give it a try and see what happens.

2.) The camp that says have a drunken conversation (for better or for worse alcohol makes it easier) and THEN give it a try and see what happens.

I think I'm in Camp Two. But back to the third question....do I do it? Do I sit back and wait? I have no idea. I don't think that the attempt would cause any long-term harm if it didn't go my way...just possibly some short-term embarrasment but I have no problem with that. No guts, no glory right???

Don't Steal Beer to Impress Boys

This story is somewhat embarrasing, but it's funny and I was thinking about it today so I thought I'd write it down.

Before I left for my cruise, I played wingman to my friend K. one night. She needed to see if this guy liked her, and if he did not, she was going to give the ultimatum about seeing her again. I understand that full well, so I went along for support. On the way, we stopped to get a guy I had been talking to for a week or so...he didn't like where he was at and wanted to check out the party we were going to.

Previous to this point in the night tho, my night was as follows:

1.) Gin Mill from 6:30-8:15 - One pitcher of beer drank.
2.) Dinner at Ninja from 8:15 - 10:00 - Two very strong mojitos drank.
3.) Cellar Bar - 11:00 - 2:30 - Three or four vodka sprites. Can't remember.

I believe K. had a similar amount of alcohol in her system, thus her lack of fear to lay it all on the line.

The theme of the party was Heaven and Hell, whereas the upstairs apartment was Heaven and the downstairs apartment was Hell. Heaven turned out to be boring, so we went down to Hell to see what was up there. When we got there, in my drunken state, I noticed that they had no less than 40 24-cases of budlight stacked up. When I was in college, I developed a slight (very slight!) compulsion to steal things of no consequence. I one time walked out of a club with a candelabra (candles stuffed in purse) and took a picture with it on the street. It now sits in my house in Boca. Another time, tired of waiting in line for the girl's bathroom, I walked into the storage area of the club, stole several bottles of cheap wine, and then passed them out on stage at the club, keeping one for myself and drinking it in full view of everyone. No one even noticed. The only time there was a consequence was when I was visiting my friend at FSU and we went to a party. The host was really rude to me when he found out that I went to UF, so I did a keg stand and then went into his bathroom and stole every single one of his toiletries. I'm talking cleaned out his bathroom. Then I spraypainted UF RULES on his bathroom mirror with his shaving cream and buried the remaining toiletries in a dark corner of his backyard. A week later, I told my friend that I did this and she was mad at me b/c apparently the kid went on a rampage when he found out what this mystery person did. A year later, we were back at the same house when my friend tells the kid that it was me who committed the crime a year before(I was standing oblivious in the corner at the time) and he runs up and threatens to kick my ass. I told him I had no idea what he was talking about and made a quick exit.

So anyways, here we are in Hell and for some reason, I get the strongest urge to steal one of the cases of beer. K thinks this is hilarious and tells me to do it. The guy I'm talking to says put it down. I tell him no and go to walk out the door. He then tells me someone saw me walk over and grab it and that if I don't put it down, he is going to have to fight the kid, and that he doesn't even know me and I shouldn't put him in that position. I told him I'd kick that kid's ass. He says no I cannot. I say yes I can. He says put the beer down. I relent, but sadly.

We then leave and he yells at me. I tell him he can't yell at me, he doesn't even know me. We both say we are sorry.

I haven't heard from him since haha. The moral of the story, do not steal beer to impress people, or even for your own amusement. Apparently, this does not go over well.

Yo Yo Yo

Biggity-Bizzack

I'm back bitches! I'm back, tan...and lazy. I was supposed to do a number of things yesterday, including distributing my resume, figuring out my taxes and business cards, blah blah blah...but I laid in bed and watched Dane Cook's Vicious Circle, Conan, Grey's Anatomy and Inside the Actors Studio. I then took a nap and went to the gym. It was a very busy day. But the wrong one.

No matter because today I'll be back in the swing. I just didn't have a chance to rest once I got home, due the breezing in of BMoney and RR. We had an amazing time on Saturday night topped off with the perfect NY Sunday with my roomies and BMoney.

Now I'm back and ready to resume the slightly out of control existance I was experiencing before I left.

The Cruise

The Cruise was so much fun. A lot of laughter. A lot of bonding among everyone. It's one of those things though where there were so many jokes that unless you were there to understand...it's hard to explain. I'll do my best, but it's going to take some time. Pictures to come soon though.

Bon Voyage Bitches

Less than 24 hours to go until my cruise of ridiculous fun.

However, last night on the plane to Florida I began to think. One of the things that I have to get better at is staying happy every day. Comparitively speaking, I am very, very lucky. Currently I'm working for myself. I have a lot of friends. I am meeting people. I'm suffering mini-heartbreaks like once a week, but at least they remind me I'm alive and that I'm out there and doing it. If you had asked me a few years ago what I wanted or how I saw the future going, I would have said that the life I am living now is it. (Still working on the Manolos and Jimmy Choos though. Right now, still stuck in Aldo.) So how come the other night I nearly cried myself to sleep over the realization that I'm allllmost (almost) 26-years-old, the exact age of my supervisor when I was an intern - and she seemed to be 1000x more adult than I feel? Granted, I have no idea if she had her s*** together at 26, or just appeared to, other than my own illusion of what I thought her life was like. But I just remember watching her and thinking she was so old and mature, and now that I'm only two months out, I feel like I'm a 12-year-old masquerading as an adult.

It struck me especially because last week I got to work at Fashion Week. Now if College Lia could see NY Lia, whose job requirements last week consisted of going to Fashion Week (and p.s., I don't care how old you are, breezing through the crowd with the credential that lets you go right inside, past the tourists and people trying to scam their way in, feels sooooo good, even if they're only thinking who the f*** is that b****?), and network with people and talk up wine, being sad about anything...College Lia would beat the living shit out of NY Lia. Twice. Maybe even three times.

Also, when I started thinking about the fact that just two years ago I was doing PR for area hospitals and the new DKNY bed sheets coming out at Burdines...and now I'm working under the tents at Fashion Week and then running off to meet people for happy hour before I go home and do research for another alcohol client...yeah, I have nothing to whine over. Vacation is going to be awesome and it's going to be with people I love and care about, plus some extra fun people thrown in. And that's not just something to be happy about, it's something to celebrate.. The fact that this moment in time allows me to enjoy these things. And that the next moment in time will allow me to enjoy something else great. It's hard to keep in mind, but I'm going to try. As a matter of fact, now that I've actually written it down, it sounds so ridiculous...but then again, your 20's suck ass...and I know I'm not the only one who feels this way.

Shaki

Something that requires NO effort to be excited about is that tonight I am seeing Shakira in Miami!!! DIEEE OF HAPPINESS!!!!!! It's going to be a blast. She's going to send me off on vacay.

So bon voyage to me bitches. If I can write from the ship, I will. If, not be prepared for Welcome Back Lia on 9/23!!

Letting Someone Down Semi-Gently

Ok...so I have a confession in that I violated my own rules of nothing text messaging. Before going all up in arms, all 45 of you that read this, half of whom are married and don't have to worry about this ish, calm down. I tried to make things right via in-person communications first, but couldn't. The person wasn't there. So I had to reach out electronically. Get over it.

Anyways, about three weeks ago, I went out on what I thought was dinner but was actually a full-blown date that the other person took very seriously. As previously mentioned, the person did just about everything wrong. Got way ahead of themselves in terms of future dates, made presumptions, told me the price of everything (my number one ultra, ultra pet peeve), and even asked me if I watched porn. You can't make this stuff up. I should also note, that the tables in the restaurant were very close together and the very proper gentleman at the next table over heard this question, gave us a dirty look and it was right around that point that I decided I'd like to crawl under the table and die. And just because it's hilarious, somewhere around the middle of the date, this very white guy (well...half Puerto Rican, half Italian, but looks white) started referring to himself in the third person as "this n****).” Which also horrified me because next to the C-word, that's the only word in the English language that makes me absolutely sick. But at the same time, I was like did you just refer to yourself in the third person? And as this n*****? Are you serious? Am I on camera somewhere?

Anyways, needless to say, by end of the entrees, I knew we were not a match made in heaven. Hell maybe. But not Heaven.

I took a few days off from the store where I see this person so as not to give the wrong impression. I then received a text message a few days later asking me out for dinner and drinks. I had several problems with this.

1.) Pick up the damn phone and ask.

2.) I didn't want to go.

3.) I didn't want to respond.

4.) I had no idea what to do.

So I just didn't write back. First of all, it was Friday night. And my friends and I were just discussing that unless you are serious, you don't go on weekend dates with anyone. That's the time where you can get drunk with your friends and meet more dates. Not for hanging out with Wigger McGee. Second of all, I refuse to engage in texting communications - not to be asked out and not to turn someone down. In retrospect, it would have been best to answer back, “sorry, have plans.” Because that would have communicated my non-interest...but lessoned learned.

So anyways, I don't answer and then I just disappear. To this guy, at this point, I was like f*cking Keyser Soze. A figment of his imagination. But then I felt bad so I went to the store just to say look, I'm super busy, and thanks, but no thanks blah blah blah...but he wasn't there.

So I texted him what I thought was quite clever - "I owe you an apology. Been working like crazy. Will try to stop in store this week." It says nothing, it promises nothing, it is nothing. Which violates my rule, but you know what, my heart was in the right place.

His response? Oh you are alive.

Oops. But the good news is, that I could probably be an awesome CIA agent since I managed to elude seeing him, actually convincing him I very well may be dead, for nearly a week at this point.

My response? Barely but yes. Which was also a lie. But whatever.

So anyways, another week goes by and yesterday I get a new text which says "Damn was the date that bad"

Again, several problems with this.

1.) Give it up.

2.) Yes it was.

3.) Now I have to call.

I refuse, REFUSE I SAY, to text back. I do feel bad. It's not this guys fault that he obviously has no idea that he's an idiot in the women department....but at the same time, it's not my fault either. But after speaking about it with P., proper protocol would be to call, tell him I am sorry for disappearing (WHICH IS A LIE, I'M NOT SORRY), tell him I have been busy with work and my friends (WHICH IS NOT A LIE) and that after thinking about it, I am just not ready to date yet. (ALSO A LIE. BUT AGAIN...WHATEVER.)

So I'm doing that today. Given that 2/3 of this conversation will be me talking out of my ass, I wouldn't say that I'm handling this maturely, but you know what? I'm new to this, so I haven't gotten my head wrapped around all these new things I have to do and say and learn. Plus, I'm pretty sure I don't have to be mature with Whitey Mc-Wish-I-Was-Black. Don't think he'll be any the wiser.

This is Bulls***

http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/la-ca-danecook3sep03,0,6295227.story

This guy has the balls to call out Dane Cook for not being funny because his comedy doesn't come from a dark place. First of all, I hate when people judge comedy by what they think their definition of funny is. Comedy is subjective, that's why we can all appreciate the various forms of absurdity life throws at us. Second, who the F*** cares if comedy comes from a dark place or a light place? The world, as we know it, seems sometimes like its slowly spinning out of control -- shouldn't we be thankful for the brief moments we have where we can forget all our problems, and the problems of our country and of mother nature, and everything else, and just laugh? And we owe it to those who provide those moments, no matter who they are, whether its Dane for me or Jon Stewart for you, and just appreciate them for what they are? Ugh, reporters make me so mad! And for once it's not just because I'm in PR!

Panic! At The Disco

Once again, I'm like eight years behind on what's cool in music, but luckily I discovered these guys. I recently had the pleasure of meeting them at the VMA lounge where I met Snoop but have to say, at first I was a little unimpressed. They are like these super-skinny little boys with flat ironed hair straighter than mine (and let me just tell you that's an accomplishment) and eyeliner. But I had heard the buzz about their song "I Write Sins Not Tragedies" so I decided to download it for myself and find out what the hoopla was all about. Then I downloaded every song of theirs and have been playing it non-stop. I highly recommend "Nails for Dinner and Tacks for Snacks" and "Lying is the Most Fun Thing A Girl Can Do Without Taking Her Clothes Off" and not just because the titles totally kick ass. The lead singers voice is just really cool and the beats are awesome. Think danceable punk. This is how I always wanted to feel about Green Day but just couldn't. And I know I'm like the only one...but what can I say? I just wanted to listen to Tupac and throw west sides around that age.

A Moment To Be a Girl

I just have to take a moment to say, that tonight I realized I am very lucky. I moved to New York just over two years ago (two years and a week to be exact) with a dollar and dream. No just kidding, I had more than a dollar. But my dream was to find a group of girls to gallavant around New York with, live beyond my means with, eat brunch with, hang out with. This past weekend I realized I've totally found that. And it sounds sooooo corny and I just can't even believe I'm writing it down for people on the Internet to read, but it's true. And I'm very thankful because no matter what else I feel may be missing from my life - my perfect job, my perfect boyfriend, my perfect bank account - at least I have that. And that's what counts more than anything in the end. Now, I just have to work really hard to remember that every day. Easier said than done.

Steve Irwin...So Sad

I'd be remiss if I didn't write a little something about the passing of Steve Irwin. His death was very, very sad and it just struck me that you don't know how much you mean to the world until you are gone. Who would have thought that the Crocodile Hunter would have been the lead story....and on MySpace I was really struck on how many people posted the news on his death. And I'm not saying this to be funny, but it just goes to show...don't be scared to stick your head in a crocodile's mouth (and I feel like this could also double as a great life metaphor), freakier things will get you in the end.

Without Further Ado...

Don't ask me how a white girl who grew up in Boca Raton becomes obsessed with hip hop, but all I can tell you is that it happened. The good news is, in the years since my youth I have expanded my musical tastes well beyond just the hip-hop realm, but there is still a special place in my heart for the rappers I grew up listening to.

Nevermind that many of them are semi-violent criminals who would punch me in the face just as soon as they'd look at me...I love them just the same.

That's why, last week, I was excited almost to the point of bursting open, when I came face to face with Snoop Dogg. My number two celebrity picture choice of all time.

I was working at an event prior to the VMAs, where celebrities come through to collect free products from companies. I was there on behalf of a nutritional bar. I must admit, it was a little bit hard to get them to pay attention when across the way D&G sunglasses and diamond jewelry were being given away, but that was my job.

Just moments before Snoop entered, I had suffered a mini-meltdown when Jordan Knight of New Kids on the Block walked into the room. It was like I was seven years old all over again...I clammed up and couldn't speak and felt myself getting flushed. Much like I did at the New Kids Concert I attended in second grade. However, I composed myself and wound up having a twenty minute conversation with Jon Knight, brother of Jordan and less-cute Knight Brother. The point being that I cut my teeth learning how to talk to celebrities with him and so when I was given the heads up that Snoop was going to be entering a few, I got my head and wits together and was ready to talk to him before I lost him to the sunglasses and diamonds.

Imagine, if you will, a triange. Whereas I am one point, and directly across in the other two points are the D&G people and the Diamond Princess (who was a huge bitch, p.s.) Snoop walks directly in front me, cutting the triangle in half.

I call out: "Snoop, would you like an Atkins bar?" Never imagining in a million, trillion years that he'd actually turn around.

Snoop: (insert Snoop Dogg voice as well): Is that like a candy bar?

Me: Well...it tastes like a candy bar, but it's better for you. You know, like if you're trying to stay in shape or something.

Snoop (with a tummy pat): But I already am in shape.

Me: (winking): Well, if you want to stay more in shape. (I have no idea what the hell that meant, but at that point all I could think of was the fact that I was actually having a conversation with Snoop D-O-double-gizzle.)

Snoop: Okay I'll try one.

Me: (hands Snoop several bars trying not to let him see that my hands are shaking).

Snoop: Do you need to take my picture with it?

Me: Yes. (takes picture.)

Me: And can I take my picture with you too?

Snoop: Sure.

Me: (Runs over and gives him a giant hug. Realizes what I'm doing. Pull back a bit). Oh my god, this is a dream come true.

Snoop: Haha

Me: No, seriously, I can sing you every word to Americas Most Wanted. It's my favorite song. If you want.

Snoop: Ha. (Head shake.)

Me: (Deep breath to keep from fainting.)

And that was it. Then he was off to peruse all the other goods in the room, and I immediately began texting anyone who would appreciate what was most definitely the most exciting moment of my life...pretty much ever. I actually felt so happy on the inside that I wanted to explode. I imagine that only my wedding day and the birth of my first child would feel any happier than that. And I only wish I was joking.

Other celebrities I met that day? Dhani Jones of the Philadelphia Eagles, Panic! At the Disco (my new obsession), the owners of Stereo nightclub in NYC, the band Disturb'd, Fieldy from Korn, Brooke Hogan, Steven from Laguna Beach, a couple of girls from Americas Next Top Model, Saigon (and yes I made a lame joke about screwing over Turtle in Entourage, and then he massaged my arm in a wierd way when we were posing for a photo)...and a few others who I guess aren't important enough to remember. All in all...an excellent day.

But not as excellent as this:

This.Is.Fantastic.

Behold...Kevin Federline's new music video. It is officially the awesomest horrible thing I've ever seen.

Some initial thoughts:

1.) Take off the Yankees hat. You embarass Yankees fans.

2.) Why do you rap in that wierd voice?

3.) Hip-hop is boycotting Cristal Kevin Federline. Therefore, giving it a shout out in your song pretty much sums up your credibility.

4.) Air guitar? Really?

5.) What is the weird jerky dance move you do near the end? Aren't you supposed to be a dancer? I've seen seizures that look better than that.

6.) You call yourself out for being a superstar. A superstar of what exactly? You had to finance your own record and your own video...with your wife's money I'd imagine. The only superstar that makes you the kind that figured out how to marry Britney Spears, end her Cinderella story and squander all the money she earned acting like a whore.

That's all for now. I need to go vomit up dinner.

The Greatest Night of My Life...

...recently took place. At a work event no less, so I got paid to have the best night ever. It requires some explanation, which I will work on over the weekend, but if the picture of me below with JON KNIGHT of NEW KIDS ON THE BLOCK doesn't show you how freaking awesome it was, than nothing will.


However, my coup d'etat was not Jon, but another celebrity who I have always dreamed of taking a picture with. All I have ever wanted, by way of celebrity photos, are pics with three people:
1.) Tupac, and if my conspiracy theory checks out, I will still get this picture one day
2.) My mystery celebrity to be revealed over the weekend
3.) Shaquille O'Neal, and we are comparing hand sizes and laughing like we are old friends who do these silly things on occasion

One hint is that I have no idea why my three celebs of choice are all black men, but it is what it is and I'm not questioning it. However, I have effectually checked number two off the list. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, here's another photo of me and my new boyfriend Steven from Laguna Beach. He's like totally into me...but you know. I have to play the field a bit.