Dear Abi | girlsarethenewboys.com

Believe it or not, but this blog is actually aimed at both a male and female audience. So far I’ve been talkin about a lot of female “issues,” but that’s because – duh it’s what I know best. But I try to take an objective yet entertaining approach to everything I write about so that it can appeal to everyone … or at the very least not bore everyone.

The other day during a lapse of writer’s block (ok I lie that’s like EVERYDAY), I asked the homie CMC what topic I should write about that men may find interest in and he immediately said “What guys should do on a date,” but I couldn’t think of anything asides from the obvious. I’m pretty low-maintenance and don’t require much to be appeased. Besides, I honestly think that unless ur an axe-murder, seriel rapist, or that big of a douche – u should just be urself. I did however, think of a few things a man shouldn’t do on a date. These are urban legends that nukkas swear we like but really don’t.

• DON’T TALK ABOUT THE EX. Just don’t do it. All it does is scream that ur not over her\still have baggage about ur previous relationship and make us feel like ur not interested. If ur questioned about the topic, feel free to BRIEFLY dip into it but that’s it! A real woman knows that at this age, everyone has exes and remembers that exes are exes for a reason and shouldn’t ask anyway. A realistic woman will respect ur privacy and then maybe will secretly google the bitch lol. So unless ur ex was Angelina Jolie or the broad walks in on the date and pours a drink on u – we don’t care who she is.
• Don’ brag. Just like the American Gangster Frank Lucas said, “The loudest person in the room is the weakest person in the room.” Act like u know fellas. What’s sexier than a man who’s fly, intelligent, talented, athletic, funny, AND filthy rich? A man who’s HUMBLE ’bout his shit. I once got pawned off on a dude that dropped mad bread at my homegirls store at the mall, and all he talked about was his bankroll and all the things he bought with it. It was so annoying I didn’t even give him a chance to spend money on me ‘cuz I couldn’t bare to put myself through another minute of him blabbin about how much money he made – even if it meant getting a free dinner outta it. To me, all that woompty-woomp translated to “I lack any real personality so this is my lame attempt to make up for it.” Now some girls don’t mind this shit and will tolerate just about anything in exchange for shiny things, but honey I ain’t the one. I ain’t gonna front, I LOVE being spoiled and receiving gifts but I’ve taken care of myself for a looong time so bring something to the table that I can’t bring myself. I understand ur proud and wanna show off ur accomplishments and hard earned money, but if u really wanna impress me with ur figgaz go donate a few bills to one of my favorite charities.
• Don’t be glued to ur cell phone. We get it. Ur important, ur wanted, u have a lot of friends, but alright already! If u wanted to be on the phone all night u should’ve stayed the fuck home instead of draggin my ass out and boring me to death. Matter of fact, drop me off back home so I can take my food to go and catch up on my celebreality. Simply put, it’s just RUDE. Rude I say!!! Per me and the HBIC of the CTC herself, Chey, if ur on the phone it better be because ur textin ur boy ’bout how fine I am. Better yet, u better be textin ME how fine I am! (LMAO)
• If you can’t dance – Don’t dance. The only thing worse than someone who can’t dance is someone who can’t dance but thinks they can. If u can’t dance, dude don’t even trip. I can’t surf. Who cares? It’s a nice lil’ bonus but it ain’t no deal breaker for me. I’m not saying be a wallflower but don’t feel the need to impress a girl with skills u don’t have. If ur rhythmically challenged, just cheat and do the typical guy dancefloor stance: 2-step, and then every now and then put ur hands in the air to the beat (TO THE BEAT I SAID) orrr if that’s too much for u to handle simply put them on the girls waist but ONLY if she’s initiating physical contact already. We ain’t tryna date no Jabbawockee so don’t try to be one. Besides, the whole “if he can dance good it means he can fuck good,” assumption is so 2000-n-late. I, from experience, know it ain’t (always) true.

And lastly, but MOST IMPORTANTLY …

• DON’T WEAR ED HARDY.

‘Cuz u can’t spend ur life comparing urself to others. U can only be a better you for YOU. And that is why amidst a sea of creative fish, I still have full confidence that I will be successful.

-L’aureola

An old MySpace blog written: Thursday, October 09, 2008
Current mood: Fucking stupid

There are days when u wake up in the morning and thank God ur alive. Look around ur room and feel lucky u have material things and a roof over ur head. U get out of bed and realize that “Today is a new day.” Another chance to make things better and do things differently.

Today isn’t one of those days.

Sometimes u fall in love. And then the other person falls out of love. Sometimes u get hurt when u’ve done nothing wrong. Sometimes u trust the other person too much and plan ahead of urselves. Sometimes, after 10 years love isn’t enough.

Sometimes u dream. And then sometimes u dream that u’ll never wake up. Sometimes u get ur heart broken and while at times ur ok, and ur smiling, and ur laughing, and ur dancing, and ur drinking – most of the time ur dying inside.

Sometimes u tell urself it will be ok but then after Day 150 u have to start all over again. Sometimes u slip. Sometimes u walk backwards. Sometimes u keep ur head up high, watch beautiful blue waves crash over sand as fine as baby powder and tell urself ur stupid to be thinking of anything other than reapplying sunblock in 15 minutes while in paradise and then sometimes u come back down to Earth.

Sometimes u want to talk about it. Sometimes u even yell. But most of the time u just stay awake thinking of absolutely nothing … or absolutely everything. Sometimes u try to write but ur hand starts to hurt or ur tears seep through the paper and mess up the ink. Sometimes u want to call ur best friend, ur new friend, or ur mom but u know u won’t. Not just because 10 minutes later ur over it but because sometimes, they just can’t be there for u. Which is ok. Because most of the time u don’t want to be a burden. U don’t want to rain on parades. U don’t want to be unecessary stress.

But then u don’t know what to do.

So sometimes u sing. Sometimes u write songs. Sometimes u post blogs when u know that u shouldn’t spill ur soul to the world. Because sometimes people mistake this for wanting attention and needing people to feel sorry for u. Sometimes u don’t want anyone knowing anything about u, and sometimes it’s a cry for help. Almost always, u end up feeling stupid. So ur stuck. So while u may delete the blog, u don’t regret it because it’s exactly how u felt at a moment in ur life. So sometimes u just pretend. U pretend nothing in the world is bothering u. Sometimes u agree with what another person is saying just to make them happy and stop accusing u of feelings that u don’t feel. Sometimes u just nod ur head and say “OK, yah ur right,” just to shut them up.

And then there comes a time where u promise urself happiness. U plan out ur day on a wipeboard. U make appointments and lunch dates. U remind urself that u totally AREN’T “THIS” GIRL, and ur not ugly and ur not worthless, and u ARE good enough and ur fucking awesome. So u sign a contract with urself and are convinced all 5 points will be checked off within 30 days. Sometimes u even wear eyeliner to work (Because u think that if u have makeup on u’ll be less prone to crying for fear of raccoon eyes) and flat iron ur hair. Sometimes u wear heels instead of Tims and tight fitting jeans instead of sweats and there’s never a time when someone doesn’t mutter under their breath, “U are beautiful.” So sometimes u reply back to cute text messages with even cuter ones and let insignificant things become bigger in hopes that this time it will distract u. And then when that doesn’t work, sometimes u go to the gym and feel wonderful and eat healthy but still sneak in molten lava cake on a Friday night. But sometimes, that’s not enough.

It’s never enough.

Sometimes u can make months of progress and throw it all away because u love someone too much and don’t love urself enough. Sometimes u can’t believe the things ur telling urself. Sometimes u can’t believe the things people don’t tell but think of u.

Sometimes it’s so hard. Because most of the time ur making ur friends laugh so u feel like ur letting them down by being anything less than funny. Sometimes u want to give up, but u ALWAYS know that ur better than that.

And then in the back of ur mind for a split second ur think that u deserve better than him.

So u listen to Ne-Yo and Usher and Maroon 5 and even Kanyeezy. Sometimes u look extra cute to work. Sometimes u read every enouraging quote and repeat it to urself 5 times a day, make it ur headline, and write it on a post-it and stick it to ur computer monitor. Sometimes u have good days. Like seriously, an entire day without thinking negatively. Sometimes u even tell urself, “Oh they’ll be back,” or, “Karma is a bitch.” But then the reality is. Sometimes people don’t come begging for forgiveness. Sometimes people just don’t care. Sometimes someone can just kick u to the curb after all u’ve done for them. Sometimes they move on without EVER looking back. Sometimes they won’t fight for u, they won’t make the effort.

‘Cuz happily ever afters aren’t guaranteed.

Sometimes u feel like an inconsiderate brat because there’s so many bigger things going on in the world and ur wah-ing over missing the smell of someones neck, the feel of their strong arms around u, or the playful kisses of ur favorite pitbull. Somtetimes u can’t FULLY appreciate a friend getting married or an elderly couple holding hands. Sometimes u feel resentful, NOT bitter towards others but resentful towards ur own self for thinking, “That should be me,” when u see a happy family playing at the park. Sometimes u even feel selfish (When at all times there is nothing wrong with wanting more for urself) because u want to be there for other people, u want to pay attention, and u want to be comforting – and u do and u are, but most of the time while ur hearing ur not listening. And u feel horrible for that. Even more horrible than u already feel.

So sometimes amidst all the rants about “shit not being fair/never catching a break/how could u do this to me/how could i do this to myself,” while u know its true u also know complaining about it won’t bring u back on ur feet or that person back to u.

NOT EVEN SOMETIMES.

Currently listening:Late Registration By Kanye WestRelease date: 2005-08-30

My girl Ness first introduced me to this spot on 16th and Church in the city, and I’ve have tried to make it a monthly routine ever since. I know, I know. I used to be just like you. Laughing in a bad English accent, “Tea and crumpets with the Queen?” Pshhh. And we all know “cucumber sandwhiches wtih the sides cut off,” are frowned upon by heffers far and wide. But let me tell u, this ain’t ur grandmother’s tea party.

The place is a cozy, yet eclectic corner tea house. Complete with mix matched China, vintage wall hangings, and crochet doilies. The waitresses are all very pleasant and very knowledgeable of the teas, food, and what goes good with what. And while it’s a rather noisy establishment, cell phones are not allowed so please take ur loud ass outside when ur T-Pain ringtone goes off.

OK, now for the food. OMG. I’m getting hungry just thinking about it. While it’s no House of Prime Rib, I can honestly say that I’ve NEVER left this place still hungry – and I CAN GRUB. Me and Ness usually get “High Tea for Two,” and I usually end up finishing whatever she leaves behind. This includes, salad, cole slaw, 2 sandwhiches of our choice (each, so 4 in all), 2 scones, sugar cookies, and 2 bottomless pots of tea. My fave combo is bay shrimp and mayo, and either chicken and asparagus or egg and onion with passion fruit tea. And seriously, the “devonshire cream,” aka butter from the Gods is so good on top of a warm scone I’m thinking about stealing it next time. Mind u, they also have savory side dishes like sausage rolls, shepards pie, quiches, and puff pastries filled with things like curried chicken.

Lovejoy’s Tea Room is the quintessential spot for a bridal/baby shower but any day (especially sunny, warm Sundays!) is a good day for tea!

Ahhh the tango, the dance of lurrrve. And if u’ve been watching Dancing With the Stars and saw Gilles Marini and Cheryl Burke’s performance last night, you’ll understand why.

Dancing as an art form, especially Latin dance, involves a lot of heat and passion. It is imperative that the partners have chemistry, otherwise they won’t be able to convey and provoke the intended emotions. There is no doubt that Gilles and Cheryl have this dancefloor chemistry, but what got my attention even more so was their chemistry OFF the set. I know I sound like a total hypocrite considering one of my last blogs focused on how platonic friendships can exist between the opposite sex however, mama didn’t raise no fool.

What I noticed last night about the show asides from a lot of glitter, fake tans, and sequins – was the way Gilles and Cheryl interracted with each other in between sets. To convince myself I wasn’t being insecure, I cut them a little slack for all the touching, hugging, and kissing on the cheek and forehead. Afterall, this man just spent 11 grueling, emotional, and life-altering weeks with this woman. How can they not feel a sense of closeness?

But I couldn’t help but give the side eye to the googly eyes, and sweet sentiments that accompanied it. It wasn’t so much the physical contact that had me wondering, but more so the intimacy they seemed to have shared despite the fact that they were in front of a packed house and being filmed on national television for everyone to see. And it’s this type of “connection” that I believe should only be shared between Gilles and his wife.

It wasn’t so much that Gilles gave Cheryl a heartfelt embrace, but more so that he told her he loved her right after. And it wasn’t so much that Cheryl told Gilles she was so happy to have him in her life, it was her damn near crying as she said it. Even then, it’s somewhat acceptable but I swear u had to have seen it urself.

Now. I hug and cling on to my friends all the time – both male and female. But I’d like to think that I know what’s appropriate and what isn’t. I’ve already considered the fact that Gilles is french, and that they are rumored to be a lot more affectionate than most. He has a beautiful wife and an adorable kid, both of whom he talks about religiously in every interview. So while I’m sure it’s absolutely nothing, their “connection” still has me tilting my head and wondering just how “close” they got during rehearsals.

As much as I don’t want to admit this because I pride myself on being exceptionally lenient, and accepting of my man and his relationships with his homegirls – this specific instance would bother me. Even just a little.

Which makes me wonder, where is the line between girl and girlfriend (or boy and boyfriend)? What is ok, and what isn’t? (I mean, asides from the obvious. Don’t be an asshole, u know u’d get a good ass kickin and swift brick through the window if you fucked ur “best friend” and said, “We’re just close like that.”) If a reasonable person like me who believes in “harmless flirting,” finds Gilles and Cheryl’s scenario a lil’ suspect, how do other people feel?

I guess the only 2 people who’ll know what really went down is the two dancers themselves. And the only person who should really care is his wife anyway. But the situation plays out in our day to day lives and is one I’m sure a lot are familiar with. All I know is, if u weren’t child hood friends with my man, didn’t know him before I did, aren’t moving to a far away country, or aren’t dying of a rare disease – don’t be gettin all teary eyed gazing into his eyes, or I’ll give ur ass somethin to cry about.

P.S. Cheryl and Gilles totally owned that bedazzled disco ball of a trophy. They sooo should’ve won! LOL.

Because it’s really all you need …

Neutrogena Body Oil $11 – My gay at work highly recommended this product to me, saying (and I quote) “It’ll have u slippin and slidin out ur panties.” I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to be slippin and slidin outta anything but I tried it anyway and absolutely lurrrve it. I use baby-oil right out the shower instead of lotion ‘cuz it tends to lock in the moisture for a longer amount of time but I didn’t like the greasy feeling it left behind. This on the other hand leaves u silky smoov without any residue and leaves a subtle “I want to wake up next to u smelling like this every morning” scent behind.

C. O. Bigelow Mentha Lip Shine $8 - No matter where I’m going, I bring this lip gloss with me. Gimme this, some blush, and an eyelash curler and I’m good to go. It leaves a nice tingle on ur lips, and smells and tastes great … not that I eat it or anything. It’s also a subtle way for me to not look too much like shit when I’m at the gym.
Olay Regenerist Deep Hydration Regenerating Cream $20 – I don’t know wtf all that mumbo jumbo means but all I know is this product keeps me from looking like I’ve been munchin on powdered doughnuts AND it doesn’t make my sensitive skin break out. My bf actually picked this up for me on a whim after I came back from Hawaii with extremely dry skin due to the sudden weather change and it’s worked wonders ever since.

Clean Perfume in Baby Girl $45 or Warm Cotton $70 – I’m not a fan of floral or fruity smells. And while Estee Lauder’s Pleasure and D&G’s Blue smells really good, I think it’s more appropriate for a woman like my mom. Older, and more sophisticated. While I’m grown, I’m much more playful and simplistic. That’s why I love these 2 perfumes. Baby Girl smells similar to baby powder, and Warm Cotton smells like laundry. While u may not necessarily want to smell like these things, I never fail to get a “Damn girl u smell good,” when I hop in the car wearing either one of them.

Next up – makeup. I may not know how to apply it lol but theyr’e still must-haves!

Being a woman is AWESOME, don’t get me wrong. Owning a vag comes with some serious perks. But there’s that 1 week of the month when Aunt Flow’s in town where I have absolute penis envy. I mean, it’s bad enough the man upstairs (and I don’t mean the landlord) cursed us with cruel and unusual punishment aka child labor, but to add insult to injury he tossed in a menstrual cycle as well?

That just ain’t right J.C.

It’s during this week of bloating, acne, cramps, pms, and mood swings that makes me want to wrap up the vag and “return to sender” that bitch. If ur a dude and still don’t get it, then try wiping ur ass after u take a shit while ur bleeding from a neighboring hole.

Yah, I thought so.

So while the rest of the month I embrace my vagina with glee, for 7 days I secretly wish I was born Abraham instead of Abigail so that I wouldn’t have to envy you men for the following:

• The ability to pee while standing up – Someone once asked me what’s the first thing I’d do if I had a dick, and I said I’d write my name on a wall while taking a piss. It’s so much more convenient, and if u’ve ever had to wait in the car while I took a leak behind a bush u’ll know that I take a looong time ‘cuz I am the worst squatter ever.
• Double standards – This topic could be an entirely separate blog on it’s own but it’s pretty simple. We wanna be able to fuck, have booty calls, and one night stands without being called a whore. Prime example: Kim K. and Ray-J’s sex tape (which was WACK btw) leaks and Ray-J’s a pimp while Kim K’s a slut. WTF?! I don’t get it.
• Sexism – While more and more females are emerging as CEO’s and political figures, I think we’re far from being treated as equals. Because either we slept our way to the top (Kim Osori) or we’re a bitch (Martha Stewart) or a dyke (Hillary Clinton). No matter how intelligent and capable, I honestly believe that some men will never be able to genuinely look beyond our ASSets and give us the full respect in the boardroom we deserve.
• Prep time – I will have u know I once bought an entirely new outfit for a first date when I’m pretty sure all the guy did was shave, IF anything. For a “date” it usually takes me between 45 mins to 1 hour and 30 mins to get ready depending on just how crucial the date is. The average dude (metros aside) takes about 15 mins, 20 mins max. And while I suppose it’s not entirely ur fault for only having 2 looks – jeans and a tee vs. suit and tie, u still get a big, bitter “fuck u asshole” from me for being able to make the “scruffy” look sexy while a “scruffy women,” per my convo w/ Rach, translates to this:

  

• Being born with only 3 feelings, and the “fuck it,” gene – Hungry, happy, horny. “Anger,” is only felt when 1 of the previous feelings aren’t satisfied but because of the “fuck it gene,” and low standards they’re usually met in no time. Additionally, if there’s a problem amongst men they can easily address it, follow it with a playful punch on the arm, and then they’re pretty much over it and back to being butt buddies. Most females on the other hand, will hold a secret grudge against u and swear ur trying to ruin their lives all while still offering to throw ur bachelorette party.

I would add that yall have the best kicks and t-shirt designs while we’re stuck with hearts and glitter, and those God awful things called BABY-TEES buuuut that’s just being petty. So instead, I’ll just sit here and think of how lucky I am to not ever have to buy an engagement ring, to be able to bat my lashes and sweetly smile my way into a club, and to possess the gift of multiple orgasms.

A few years ago my best friend Darrell had a girlfriend who SWORE she hated me. We had never met, yet she refused to believe that I was nothing more than “D’s” little brother. I mean hellooo he calls me his little brother for crying out loud!

Anyway, to make a long story short, she finally got over herself and we ended up becoming really good friends and remained in contact even after they broke up. One night and 4 Patron shots later, I remember her explanation for the previous bitchassness:

“Darrell said u were one of the boys. U talked like a boy. Ate like a boy. Drank like a boy. Acted like a boy. But u didn’t look like a boy.”

I assumed it was a compliment and sympathized with her. However, it still left me feeling discouraged knowing that the only way a girlfriend would ever fully accept and embrace my platonic relationship with their man, was if I was a raging lesbian or took hormones to grow out a beard.

It was not the first time I got hated for being “one of the boys.”

Growing up an only child with my immediate family in the Philippines, my closest relatives were all guy cousins. My 3 older cousins were protective over me and showed me tough love. They taught me how to climb trees, shoot guns, and to never be a prissy little damsel in distress. My 2 younger cousins acted as little brothers. I played G.I. Joe and wrestled with them. Built fortresses made out of couch cushions and crashed our Lego cars into each other to see whose was stronger. So it came no surprise to me in high school that most of my good friends were dudes. What did surprise me however, was how often me getting along better with guys translated to other girls as “Oh, she’s a ho.”

This is precisely why I don’t run with too many females to begin with – ‘cuz they run they mouth too much!

No u silly trick, the real hoez are out trying to fuck ur man while I’m acting as an ambassador for ur insecure ass. When he thinks ur acting “bitchy,” I’m the one explaining just how much “that time of the month,” can really take a toll on ur emotions. When he’s about to lie to u about his whereabouts, it’s me telling him to keep it real ‘cuz u’ll probably find out the truth anyway and get twice as mad. When he’s THIS close to cheating on u, it’s my female voice of reason screaming in his ear that it’s not worth it because he’s got a good woman at home. And when yall are arguing and on the verge of breaking up, I’m consoling him over beer and wings and giving him a shoulder to cry on because his boys will call him a fag if he shows any weakness.

I’m not saying that the possibility of good friends gaining feelings for each other is impossible, because it’s happened way more than once. But in most cases the feelings are only one-sided, otherwise they’d be dating each other instead of u. Remember, he’s with YOU not me. I’m well aware that there are triflin ass bitches out there with alterior motives so I understand the hesitation. There’s a big difference between the chick who hangs out with dicks ‘cuz she rather watch the game in sweats and a beater than get dressed up and go to the club, and the chick who hangs out with dicks ‘cuz she needs the attention and wants to get dicked down. Act like u know. But forbidding ur man to have an attractive best friend with a personality because ur insecure is a direct reflection of how unreasonable and selfish u are. So puh-leave believe me when I say …

Ladies, I don’t want ur men – They’are already my BOYS.

Besides, if I really wanted ur man he woulda been my man.