GUEST POST: My Friends are Too Pretty

Many of my friends have been super supportive regarding my adventures in blog writing. They also happen to be very smart and witty. (Remember you are the company you keep!) I wanted to provide them with an opportunity to express themselves if they so desire. I mean, why should I be the only one able to rant about my life? With that being said, below is the first of what I hope is many more guest posts on this blog. Enjoy.

I am an actress. I am a quirky, curvy, five foot tall actress. I may be cast as a best friend, little sister, or turtle. That’s right, I played Tina Turtle in a musical called “The Goldfish Twins Swim the Big Blue Sea." I went to summer camp for theater. I did all of the shows in high school. I attended college for musical theater, and I moved to New York to pursue my Broadway dreams. Therefore, 90% of my friends are actresses (and actors but we are going to focus on the girls right now.) These talented ladies are not just any old assortment of actresses. They are really, really beautiful actresses. My best friends from college, who are still some of my best friends, could be described as a model, a Zoey Deschanel type, and the girl with the perfect dimples. We can add to that (now that I have made even more actress friends from various shows and auditions and my current job at Lululemon) another model, a natural beauty, and a hotter version of Lindsay Lohan in her “Mean Girls” days. I love my friends. They are amazing, motivated, warm, intelligent, funny, and delightful human beings. I realize it is not their fault they are so attractive. I should not stop being their friends just because people literally turn their heads when they pass by.  

I was at work the other day. I was having a dance party, like I do, and these two men walked in my section. I said hello and we struck up a conversation. They even joined my dance party. While we were talking I found out one of the men is here in New York because he is doing his pediatrics rounds. This man was also super attractive. We talked for about ten minutes. Dare I say, some flirting occurred. I started to get really excited. I got super girly and in my head I was all “Oh my gawd he totes likes me. I think he may ask me for my phone number. What if I date a doctor? My bubbe is going to be so happy, etc...” He then inquired about a feature on one of the men’s shirts I didn’t know about. He was all, “Let’s go look at it.” I was all, “Yeah, let’s, because I totally don’t believe that feature exists.” We wandered to the men’s section and he was totally right. Cue my hot Lindsay Lohan friend joining in on our convo. It’s totally not her fault. We were in HER section after all. I then had to return to my section, leaving Doctor man, his friend, and Hot Lindsay Lohan to chat. Five minutes later, the two men shout goodbye to me and my friend comes rushing over “He asked for my number.” Cue, almost epic temper-tantrum/meltdown by yours truly. 

I kept it together. To be honest, this type of thing has happened to me more times than I can count. It seems as though guys tend to like hot girls. Weird, right? The moral of the story is, having gorgeous friends makes things difficult for us with “unique faces.” (One of the men who lives on my block loves telling me I have a unique face.) Men tend to be distracted by the long legs, shiny hair, and tiny noses of the ladies surrounding me. I refuse to play the victim. My options are to find myself some homely looking friends, to put myself together, or keep on keeping on in hopes that Mr. or Dr. Right will come along and not be blinded by the perfect tens that surround me day in and day out. I think I am going to keep on keeping on in my cowboy boots and blue mascara. 

Author: The Gu

Housewives putting it On Display

I don't mean to brag, but if you name name any Real Housewives season, I can pretty much tell you the entire cast (and also give you my opinion on them whether you ask for it or not).  I love that show. Whether its New York, New Jersey, Miami, DC, Beverly Hills, Atlanta, or the ladies who started it all, Orange County, I have tuned in. Each season has its own drama and its own attitude. Well done Andy Cohen. Well done.

If you don't watch the Housewives, let me break it down for you. It's a bunch of women all trying to outdo each other (with money they apparently don't even have), talk shit about each other, and get into catfights. That's pretty much it in a nutshell. Sounds pretty incredible, right? Well, it is...until these women start to forget who they are and what they're job is. And let me tell you this...its not to sing. It's to shop, drink, eat brunch, drink, attend fabulous parties, drink. You get it. Nowhere in their contract does it say they should be singing.

Jo De La Rosa (from the OC), one of the the most annoying characters in that series history (and not even an actual housewife!), was the first of the ladies to pave the way of wanting to use her "fame" to begin a singing career. Her man Slade, took her under his wing and got her into a studio to begin recording her first single. Needless to say, her singing voice was just as awful as her regular voice and her song bombed. It was terrible. However, she was the pioneer of Housewives wanting to become pop stars.

Of the Housewives that have recorded songs (and even videos), I have actually found many of the tunes quite catchy. Catchy does not equal good, but these songs do get stuck in your head.  These pretty talentless women are lucky enough to pair up with decent producers with quality equipment and churn out a hit. So bravo (pun intended) to them for that. Seriously.

Below are four the best "Housewives" songs in my opinion. Sorry Danielle Staub and Lawrence (Sheree's friend from RHOA), but you didn't make the cut.

Kim Zolciak (Atlanta): Don't be Tardy to the Party. Not gonna lie, I have this on my iPod. With the miracle of auto-tune, this song became kind of popular. Kim obviously has no talent, but knew how to take what she does have (still trying to figure that out) and work with it.

LuAnn de Lesseps (NYC): Money Can't Buy You Class Ah, Countess LuAnn. With snarky, condescending remarks, she tried to teach us all how to have class in her book. Then she put it into a song. Eh. It's ok, but once again, I did find myself singing it when cleaning my apartment. And just so you all remember, here are LuAnn's words to the wise: "Money can't buy you class...elegance is learned."

LuAnn de Lesseps (NYC): Chic C'est La Vie  The Countess impressed herself so much with her first single, she went ahead and made a second. She even filmed a music video for this one with some of the other NYC Housewives. Oy.

Melissa Gorga (NJ): On Display I think this might actually be my favorite of the Housewives song. I don't know what it is about it, but its pretty damn catchy. And Melissa's voice isn't totally terrible.

I am sure there will be more Housewives who think they can sing and will come out with more songs in the future. And more power to them I guess. Strike while the iron's hot. Or...even better, maybe a few of them will come together and form an all girls group. You hear that Andy? One can only hope!

The Day I Carried Poop in my Bag ALL day

As previously mentioned, I have Ulcerative Colitis. Every once in a while, I get a flare-up and things get bad. How bad? I have never given birth before but based on videos I have seen and stories I have heard, I feel that I am more than prepared pain-wise because of this illness. That's how bad my stomach cramping gets. I even do Lamaze breathing when they hit.  Also, when I get a flare-up, its the only time, like ever, that I don't want to eat. This is how those around me know I am sick. It takes a lot for me not to eat. I love food. But when I start to fear it because of the pain it causes me, its time to see the doctor. And with these flare-ups, even with eating little to nothing, I am still in the bathroom double-digit times a day. Not okay.

Anyway, this recent flare-up has been the worst I have ever had in my life. It started like all my other flare-ups had. I called the doctor and got a prescription for the medicine that I usually get for this. Usually I take this medication and am healthy in a week or two. This time around, a month passed and I still was miserable. (This accompanied by my broken foot was not a fun combination.) After trying another new medication and still not improving, the doctor requested that I submit a stool sample to see if there is another underlying infection. I said I would be in the next day to pick up the kit for this test.

This isn't my kit, but very similar.

The following day I went to the hospital to pick up this kit which included a special toilet bucket for the "sample" and 4 vials for the "sample." And by sample, I obviously mean my poop. Duh. They said I could do the test at home and bring it to the lab when I was done. I didn't want to have to transport my own poop on the train and around town so I waited at the doctor's office for about a half hour to see if I could just poop there, fill my vials and bring it down to the lab. No dice. I guess I would have to take the kit home, and take my "sample" in the next day. I will spare you the details of how I had to collect the samples. But lets just say I had to take what was in the bucket and put it in the vials. Got it? Yeah, not a pleasant experience. At all.

My Big, Fat Obsession

Weight loss shows seem to be all the rage lately. Shows that feature extremely overweight and/or morbidly obese people trying to take off the pounds and adapt to a lifelong healthy lifestyle. Whenever these types of shows come on TV you can almost always count me in as a viewer. And a crier.  Biggest Loser. Duh. Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition. Yep. MTV's I Use To Be Fat. Uh huh. VH1's Celebrity Fit Club. Obvi. And the list goes on.  I usually have to keep a large box of tissues near me when I watch because these shows often always have me in tears. Tears of sadness for the pain in these people's lives, both physical and emotional.  Tears of happiness when they achieve their goal. Tears of disappointment if they don't. Tears of fear of becoming that large myself.  I can't help it. I get sucked in to the realism of it all. In fact, when they tell their stories, I often find myself relating to them. And this is what is so heart-wrenching. I am no where close to their size, yet I possess a lot of the same feelings about my body that they do about theirs. (On a totally semi-related note, if I see an extremely obese person in public, I sometimes burst into tears. It is not something I am proud to admit, or even embarrassed to admit, but it just always hits a nerve for me. Yes, I am aware I should probably be in therapy about this.)

One of my biggest fears in life is becoming obese. I hate to say it, but I honestly do not know what I would do with myself if I became "that" big. I have a hard enough time dealing with and accepting the size I am now, and the thought of being any heavier scares me to death. This is probably the reason I watch these shows. They almost ingrain this fear in me that scares me so much, I know I will never let that happen to myself. (Hopefully.)

My mother, is also a fan of many of these so called "fat-people shows" and we discuss them often. Unfortunately, and it should come as no surprise to her as she is reading this, that she is probably the main reason with my obsession with weight. For as long as I can remember, my mom has criticized my weight, what I eat, and my exercise habits. (I love you mom, but you can't deny this.) Mind you, I eat pretty healthy a majority of the time and I work out on a regular basis. But for some reason, I am still overweight.  Yes, it bothers me a lot, but it seems to bother her more. In fact, the only time we fight or she makes me cry is over my weight (and the fact that I am still single.  And don't think I don't see a correlation between those two things.)  It's probably unhealthy that we discuss these shows because of this trigger between us, but we can't stop.  I know deep down that I will never be the size of one of the participants on these shows, but I do sympathize with them.  They bare all on national TV all for the sake of becoming healthy. They are very brave and I wish them nothing but the best. But shame on them for making me cry so much. Oh wait, that's my issue, not theirs.

If money were no object...

Sometimes I like to play a game with myself called "What if I was rich?"  I mean, money-is-no-object, filthy rich. What would I do with all that money? I was raised in an upper-middle class family and although we lived comfortably, we were by no means wealthy. Now that I support myself on a teacher's income, I would say that I am financially stable, but not enough to even afford a one-bedroom apartment; not with students loans that need paying off and the everyday cost of living expenses. I eat out about once or twice a week and go through phases of shopping, but never anything extraordinary. I live well within my means and consider myself to be a saver. I am not quite sure what I am saving for (a house, a big vacation, etc...), but I like to have a little cushion that I pretend doesn't exist just in case of emergency.  With all that being said, I often wonder what I would do if I hit the jackpot and didn't have to worry about my finances anymore. Would I spend differently? How would my lifestyle change? These are the questions I sometimes ask myself if money were no object (and I planned to stay in NYC)...

1) Would I still work or would I become a "lady who lunches"?
I would probably quit my job initially and spend my days working out, playing tennis, getting massages, getting manicures and pedicures, and volunteering.

2) Would I get a doorman penthouse apartment on the UES/UWS or a townhouse in the West Village?
I would like having a doorman for safety and convenience and love the proximity to Central Park of the UES/UWS, but my own townhouse in the village would be pretty awesome.

3) Would I still shop at Target or head over to the three B's (Bloomies, Barney's, and Bergdorfs) now for all my shopping?
I would most def still go to Target often but would probably start buying some high end stuff as well. I  would def buy all my workout clothes at Lululemon ($90 for yoga pants is not in my budget now), would for sure splurge on a pair of black Louboutins, and would buy a really nice designer purse or two, but beyond that I just don't know.

4) Would I get myself a really nice car or just get a chauffeur?
Probably both. I want a black Range Rover with Spreewell rims, but I am not a fan of driving in NYC, so within the city, I would have driver, but beyond that, I would prob drive myself.

5) Would I summer in the Hamptons or the Shore?
I know the Hamptons is where all the rich, famous, and society people go. And although its gorgeous, I don't know if its "my scene." I am sure I could make it my scene if I needed to or just avoid that scene all together. On the other hand, some shore towns like Avon-by-the-Sea or Sea Girt have amazing houses right on the water with huge wraparound porches also and the people are not as pretentious. I know people "poo-poo" Jersey but its not as showy as the Hamptons and its less of a pain-in-the-ass to drive to. (But I guess if I am loaded, I would take a quick private helicopter/jet to where I am going anyway.)

6) Would I winter in a tropical locale or go skiing? 
Who am I kidding with this, I'd do both!! Winter is long and I want to hit the beach AND the slopes.

7) Would I send my kids in public or private school?
In the more wealthy neighborhoods, there is nothing wrong with the public schools. I would like my children to be well-adjusted and open-minded and I feel that a good public school is the way to go with this. I watch Gossip Girl and have read Schooled by Anisha Lakhani to  know what happens in those NYC private schools....

I do know that there are a few definite things I would do if I hit it big. I know I would pay off my student loans right away, take my parents on the vacation of their dreams and pay off any loans they have, get a year round personal trainer AND personal chef, travel to all the places I am dying to go to myself, and make a large donation to Breast Cancer research.  Beyond that, I am sure now that I am rich, I can find other things to spend my money on. Depending on where I end up in the future, New York or Chicago (or even somewhere else), this could all change. I do know one thing, money will NOT change who I am. I would never let it.