Jimmy Choo in the Bookstore

Women have hormones and instints, we get emotional after sex, know when our man is cheating on us, etc. Well, men have something similar. We'll call it the "mantuition."

Defined by Bunny's dictionary: MANTUITION: when a penis bearing human can sense that their last female has engaged in sexual activities with another man.

Classic example:

Last night, I slept with a new man. A fabulous man. Not one I see forever for, but one I hope will be around another month or so.

THEN, OF COURSE, fate be with thou:

Today, at lunch, I run into the shoe man. No, not in the Neiman Marcus women's shoe department. He was walking into THE SHOP AROUND THE CORNER, as I was turning the corner.

Freud had it all wrong, it's actually "vagina envy."

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

Women are not well equiped with the brain function that allows us to let relationships just be what they are. We suffer from accute neurosis. It's true, all of us do. The housewives, business women, feminist... every woman.

For the majority of my life I have lived believing that I am truly suffering from a terrible psychological disorder. OCD, is what I thought it was for a long time, until recently, when I discovered that I am not OCD. I actually suffer from an epidemic called mental vancer, onset by the bodily hormone called estrogen.

I embrace being of the species that carries this hormore, because this makes me and all of the other vancer patients smarter than the non-estro breed. However, you'd think by now, science would have found a way to make this genotype less concerned about analyzing male behavior patterns and more distressed about female job advancement.

The point, we as the people from Venus, have the problem of always debating whether or not the men in our lives are really that into us. For instance, sometimes we are hanging out with a man who likes playing kissy face with us, but rarely puts in a mid-week phone call. Does this mean that for this person, we're just a piece of ass? What about when he calls 4 or 5 times a day, does this mean that he's madly in love with me, or just desparate for a piece, any piece?

None of it makes since. Why can't it just be as easy as, I like you, do you like me back? Please check yes or no. I mean, I think that we had it right third grade when we passed stupid notes around. At least then we knew what we were up against. Now, dating is clouded with sex, emotions, and a clear failure to communicate.

Now that we're realized that it's not so easy, us women are STILL, years later, pulling the petals from our daisies wondering, "love me, love me not?"

Please, help save the daisies. Send a nice electronic note (as we're trying to save trees too).

Dinner and A Movie - A Dating Survival Tip

NEW FLASH BOYS:

We don't like to pick the place and we don't want to make reservations. So if you really want to go out with us. Just pick something.

It's quite lovely when all we have to do is look pretty.

(NOTE: this will obviously change once the status goes from "dating" to "relationship" then of course we'll make all of the discissions.)

Friday Nights With the Fluffs

In a big city, that is known for it's dating misfortunes, women have learned a way around lonely Friday nights, with the CBS Friday night line up, GHOST WHISPERER, CLOSER TO HOME and NUMB3RS being their only means of contact with the outside world from Friday night to Monday morning.

We have invented the night that we truly long for once a week. The night that surpasses any night of the week, filled with fun, flirty, females, looking for an enjoyable evening. Therefore, no boys allowed! Most of you call it girls night... but the broads I see on Friday nights have become much more than that to me. JuJu Fluff, has been in my life for a good four years now. She introduced me to RollerGirl Fluff, and Roller Girl introduced me to me to GiGi Fluff.

Now, we've become the Fluff sisters.

We share weekly bonding sessions, over good food, good wine, and bestow upon each other each weeks little secrets. (And sometimes, we share our chatter with the boys, bartender, hostess', and waitress' around us. This happens only after a few too many glasses of vino (or Vodka Cranberry, splash of Pineapple Juice for Roller Girl)).

These beautiful, successful, blissful women, have made being a single dame in the LA possible for me. Even though two of them have hot sexy hunks in their lives, and the other has a "special friend," that I don't approve of, but that's a story for another day.

My point of this story is in reference to my earlier rant about Jason from Redlands saying that my single, professional life is "sad." My life is not sad. I have these amazing people in my life. This LA family that I have formed is what makes me happy. With this group of ladies, I don't have the everyday relationship concerns that having men in my life provides. I don't have to worry about what I'm going to wear, when is the appropriate time to engage in sexual activities with them, or if they'll ever call me again. This makes my life so incredibly easy now. I get all of the emotional, and professional support that is necessary, and none of the daily bullshit.

As for my sexual needs, I have all of the appropriate mechanical devices that support this particular desire.

And concerning the rest of my life (work, play, outdoor activities, etc), there are no distractions. Only simply pleasures.

WEEKLY LESSON - Nothing is ever finished

This weeks lesson is "Nothing Is Ever Finished."

All men come back. This is something that I have always known and always believed. I bring up this law of universal energy because "nothing in our lives is final, or ever finished." This lesson is also applied to cleaning my room, my reading pile, and of course, my never ending schedule of events.

The reality of this lesson:

As all men come back, my reading pile will always be out of control, and my room will never permenantly be clean, nothing is ever final. When I clean my room, I know I will one day very soon have to clean it again. When I read a script, I know that more scripts will be added to this pile. No dent will ever be made. And I am certain that every relationship gets one more chance.

Therefore, we should never mourn the end of anything. Rather, let's rejoice!

Last Week's WEEKLY LESSON - The Power of Positive Thinking

Last week's lesson was "The Power Of Positive Thinking."

I came to the profound realization, that nothing we do in our present lives will EVER change our past. Therefore, in order to make the best life for myself, moving forward, I absolutely MUST think positive.

The reality of this lesson:

The day after adopting this new profound look on life, I was wondering around the office all day thinking about nothing but chocolate, chocolate chip cookies. Upon my discovery, only hours later, there was an entire tray of chocolate, chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen waiting to be devored by my growling tummy!

I not only thought cookies right into the kitchen, but I thought the exact cookie that I wanted into the kitchen.

Now imagine what I could do about my job situation, with simply installing this new thought process into my daily life.

Fo Best Friend

You know the story, we're young, professional, single, no family and willing to cut your friends throat to get somewhere in this world. Well, some of us are, unfortunately (but fortunately), I was born without the cut throat mentality. But some of my more careless girlfriends are capable of truly whipping out the sword and slitting the innocent throats of those they pretend to care about. With women, especially, this happens in both work situation and situations involving the opposite sex.

Keep your friends close, but keep your frenemies, closer.

Here she is, my best friend. The one that I truly believe is the only living person on the planet who absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, has my back. Well, now, I'm positive that this is no longer the case. I have a real life "Fo Best Friend" and she comes in the form of someone who I've been friends with for many many years. We have shared ups and downs in our business and personal lives. We have played together, shared together and fought together. We have lived with fumming hearts and lived as a team. But yet, I have learned that this woman is artificially part of my life. She only wants something from me. Somthing of which I have not yet put my finger on, but this woman has taken things from me that I cherish.

I was crazy about a man. He was perfect for me and for the first time I had found someone who truly shares the same interests as me. He loves to lie in the sun and shoe shop, ok for the sake of the accused, I'm keeping the interests annomous, but we love this man and myself truly love doing many of the same things.

Fo Friend adviced, as to how to proceed with this relationship, however, I have my own way of doing things. So I followed my heart. I did what I thought was right.

And for a few minutes, he was crazy about me. We were "dating" and going to do more together and see more of each other. But all of a sudden, he dropped off the face of the earth. Oh well! Remember my moto "the only four letter word in Hollywood is NEXT."

In the end, I didn't mess up. In business, we learn that nothing that happens to us, is truly about us. It generally is about an insecurity within someone else. This was the case in this relationship. Some insecurity was brought out. Be it that I didn't have the same taste in shoes as him, or he was simply afraid to make a commitment beyond the one that we had. (Although I'm commaphobic enough to not push any titles on anyone). Something happened, and interest (on both parties) was lost.

I was actually quite ok with that, UNTIL, I found out that this friend, who vowed not to become involved, was NOW actually involved. The problem with her involvement is that she was not involved on my team.

She was right, no involvement would have been better than stabbing me in the back and taking his side, when, to let the truth be known, she only knows one side of the story.

So what does she want from me. Why stab me in the back?

The lesson: People sometimes unbeknowst of themselves, take sides, and talk shit about people for no good reason. Just because they want to. But in reality, the unconscious choices that we make, hurt all parties involved. Including the man that has lost out on an amazing woman such as myself.

Single in the City

Single, professional, hot, women. That's the hip thing to be in the LA, until of course the word "older" gets thrown into that sentence.

The other day, Bella and I were snowboarding, and we met a man. Jason, he's 28, from Redlands (I have no idea where that actually is, all I know is that it's NOT in Los Angeles county), a snowboarding instructor, and he's super nice. Ironically, this is the first person we have ever met on the mountain. We're riding the lift up with our new found friend and he says, "you girls must be the "typical" LA girls, single, professional, "OLDER" women." First and foremost, let's start by saying WE'RE NOT OLDER. We're young, single, professional women.

But on to the point: Jason, ends by saying "it's really sad, that you guys are living the "professional" life.

What makes my life sad?

Is my life sad, just because I don't have a boyfriend and/or family?

I don't think so. These are my freedom years.

My fluff's* are my LA family. As a matter of fact, I don't trust any man other than my father. So why should I set myself up for disappointment, because someone from Redlands said my life is sad. But, now I'm extremely obsessed with the thought of having a "sad" life. I thought that I have a fabulous life here in the city, where anything that I want or need will always be at my finger tips. And there is all sorts of outdoorsy stuff to do, snowboarding, mountain biking, soccer games, and a daily spanish lesson.

And for the record, I'M NOT OLD!



*This title is credited to someone else, but due to the fact that this blog is completely annonomous, and completely fictional. No real names are ever supplied.

Mixed signals - Anatomy of a Hookup

The boy calls and calls 5 or 6 times a day (this is not including text messages). The girl gets annoyed but actually begins to enjoy the extra attention.

Time goes on. The boy conquers. Beds up with beautiful young woman.

He obliges her, by calling for and taking her on one more date. The calls stop.

However, she thinks to herself... Did I do something? Did I send mixed signals?

She calls. Reaches out. He says "I've missed you, can I see you when I return?" "Of course" she says relunctantly "I would like that."

The gorgeous, much younger than he, woman, truly believes that she was in the wrong, decides to text message, once more, in order to reassure her lover that she is indeed very interested in him. "Welcome home, I hope you have a great day."

"Thx" he responds.

Bunny's Rant begins here:

Now that you know this tragic (for him) hollywood hook up story, my question for you is: Why the hell would you even pick up your phone if you truly were not interested in seeing this woman again?

I understand perfectly that you boys truly ONLY love us because of the tight wet pleasure that we can offer you, however, why would you guys insist on continuously leading us on. You do know that we are working in cooporate America now, some of us are your boss' and most of us are smarter than you. We can take it if you just want one roll in the hay with us. If we call, it's because of our own insecurities, and basically has almost nothing to do with you. So get over yourselves fellas, and don't buy into the fact that we really care about you just because we give it up one night. We like sex too.

And guess what, we like the attention you boys give us, however, there's something that you really should know: We're going to get the attention whether it's from you or someone else.

Bella's Road to Recovery - A woman's guide to love, sex, and marriage (with a gay man)

Bella, my BFF, as we like to call it out here in the big city of Los Angeles, is going through some turbulant times.

Often, she falls for a man who very generously shares his life with her by laughing at her jokes, spending precious time with her (long walks on the beach, etc), and regularly tells her how fabulous her shoes are. Ok, why is this terrible, why would Bella need to recover from constantly falling for men who sound so perfect?

Well, honestly when you think about it closely, you can see where the problem lies. It's in her shoes. When a man tells you that you have great shoes, it typically means that "he's not that into you" or actually the better way to describe it would be "he's not really that into your vagina." He is more than happy to accommodate your every emotional need, but unfortunatly, not your physical ones.

By the way, the gay man, is truly the only example of the perfect human being. They come equiped with sensitive feelings and emotions, while lacking the "cut the other woman's head off" intuition. They don't size us up, they only tell us the truth. They tell us when something (fashionable) doesn't work, when our shoes are out of style, and offer us the best relationship advice. In fact, these boys understand the way love and relationships really work (Except of course, their own, because we all know that no one understands their own relationships. Not even the experts.)

Two types of men fall for her: the valet at every bar, club or resturant that she visits, or men who first meet her when she's in her scrubs (not the doctor scrubs, this is a term meant to discribe her workout or moving clothing).

Then of course, there's the relationships that she so lavishly adores:

The relationships that habitually begin with a man complamenting her wardrobe or her quick wit and sharp tongue. These are things commonly imply that the man with the flirty remarks, is not in fact, hitting on you. He is just telling you his thoughts. (side bar: this is a trait that straight men lack, saying the truth about his feelings aloud in mixed company. Straight men typically flirt by saying "you're hot" or "sexy girl" or something that sounds like it should come out of the mouth of a 16 year old.)

There is light at the end of the tunnel.

Recovery begins with "realization of the problem." This is the first step for all addicts.

Then, she seeks therapy and as prescribed:

Bella sets out to date a straight man. Simple enough.

She finds one rather quickly, and we'll call him "The Salsa Dancer." Don't fret because he has the word "dancer" in his name, this latin lover is quite the straight man. He's handsome, flirtatous, and a rock solid salsa dancer (which is important to Bella, but not manditory).

They flirt and tease each other on the dance floor. But then, (like most men) he doesn't call. His emails seem completely uninterested.

What is poor Bella to do? Now that she's actually dating straight men, she's learning how terribly flakey these playboys are and most importantly how jaded and fucked up they all are.

Now's she's going to need therapy for her therapy!