blondieenyc

Wooing, flattery, hiding certain flaws-it comes with the territory during the first few weeks of dating. But let’s face it, after the gloss on the surface fades, our true colors shine through and, well, we’re not as perfect as we might have pretended to be. 

And even when we aren’t dating, most of us still change who we are. We dye our hair; wear different color contacts, heck we might even wear spanx to hide that tiny bulge in our tummy. We’re all guilty of it. And we’re all white lying from the get go. 

As we lower our guards in hopes of sustaining and maintaining a new, healthy relationship, we also start to show our hidden persona. Maybe we aren’t as tidy as we acted and we might even (dare I say it?) burp after every other sip of soda.

Is it our fault we grew up in a society where women are viewed as always having to be matronly? Are we expected to look and act perfect all of the time? For some of us, it’s what we believed growing up. And we’re in fear of disappointing the male persuasion.  So why do we hide the person we are when first meeting a potential mate? It’s rather simple.

Continue Reading »

You’ve finally done it! All of you seniors out there are about to graduate from four intense years of learning. Give yourself a pat on the back and congratulate yourselves. You’ve earned it! Now with a college degree under your belt, it’s time to face the real world (after a long, well-deserved vacation of course) and all it has to offer. Sure, times are tough. But just because the economy isn’t at its finest, doesn’t mean you have to follow suit.

Having graduated just last year, I have to admit it was a scary time. There I was with not one, but two Baccalaureate degrees under my wing and no job in sight. Although I jumped the gun and immediately thought I had no future (we all get emotional sometimes, right?) I knew I had to allow myself some time. So my right hand reached into my bowl of networking. And even if you’re worried about your number of contacts, there are still ways to brand yourself. Of course it’s natural to feel a bit shy in doing so, but you ladies are inspiring and worthy of a job. Hey, you worked for it!

Continue Reading »

His rolls move better than Beyonce.

You are your own best friend.  Even when you do land that great and amazing guy, there are a few things you should do for yourself to satisfy that inner single gal.  When that lovely term “relationship” creeps into your way of life, it’s sometimes distracting, fast-paced and confusing. First, you have a new man seeking entry into your heart while stealing a part of your single self. Second, your SSB (secret single behavior) takes the backseat, because let’s be honest, no woman wants her new love interest to find her dirty laundry-literally! And last, but certainly not least, you need to find that medium: a place where your old life still exists and new life begins.

We so desire that man, who’s there when you’re down, hugs you when you need it and gives you the commitment you’ve been longing for. However, while finding that proves to be worth it, most tend to lose their old selves in the process. Something most of us (myself included) are guilty of.

Having declared a relationship with my current boyfriend seven months ago, I found myself in quite a predicament.  No longer was I a single girl with all of the freedom and will at my hands.  Yes, a boy would be calling to find out what I was up to or what our plans for the evening were-something us single girls are just simply not used to such behavior. We barely call our close friends to tell them our whereabouts or plans.

When we decide to enter into a relationship, keeping yourself in check proves to be the issue at large. As 20th century writer Jo Coudert says, “the single relationship that is truly central and crucial in a life is the relationship to the self. Of all the people you will know in a lifetime, you are the only one you will never lose.”

Although we want to hope for a future, we simply do not know where the future will lead our present. We have to remember who we are throughout the course of a relationship.  That in the end, no matter the outcome, you will have yourself. And while we might fall in love and perhaps believe our current beau is The One, a relationship with ourselves has to be just as strong. Who says you can’t have your cake and eat it, too?

Let’s pick up that fork and start snacking-here are some ways to keep your old self in check while balancing a new relationship:

Ladies Night

Every bar has a night (or two or three) dedicated to getting females out and about for a good time. Whether it’s a local bar or your nearest multiplex, make sure to set aside some time with your best friends. Even if you’re in your pajamas gossiping about the latest Brangelina scandal, one or two nights a week with your girlfriends will keep your old self in check. Don’t worry, your guy is still there -just not needed when your with your best gals.

Keeping Weird, Quirky Traits

Those little strange character traits that we all hide…they are who we are! Sure, we don’t want our new guy finding out about the weird things we like to do, but regardless of what others may think, these habits are what make you, you. If you like to put cream cheese on your Doritos, know every lyric to every Britney Spears song or like to paint your fingernails different colors, don’t let a new relationship stop you. The person you’re with invested time in the person you are and those quirky traits play a major role in your personality.

You Time

It’s okay to have a few days/nights to yourself. The world will not end if you and your boyfriend are not together for a night. We’re all guilty of spending endless amount of time with our new boyfriends when revving up the start of a relationship. But sometimes you need to hang out with yourself to keep yourself in check. Having a couple of hours alone not only proves to be therapeutic, but gives you some of that single mindset. 

Chantal Waldholz is a 2008 journalism and English graduate from New York University who hopes to one day write for a major entertainment magazine or network.  She has a weakness for pricey shoes and secretly adores her guilty pleasures—gossip and reality shows.

*As seen on CHICKSPEAK.COM*

My apologies for not being around as of late.  Due to an obsession with finding a new job, I’ve been up to my ears in sending out applications…can you believe it that I have set aside CELEBRITIES to do this?! So bear with me guys.  I’m still here, just trying to get some things situated!

You either dead or blind if you haven’t heard about Miss California, Carrie Prejean.  She’s the dumb bitch who placed second at Miss USA due to her answer during the question round.  God, LIFE IS SO HARD BEING A PAGEANT QUEEN!

Anyway, Perez Hilton basically asked her a question about same-sex marriages and bitch basically told the gays and lesbos to go buy their own country.  Anyway, she received a lot of criticism shortly thereafter and now might as well be a spokesperson for FOX news since that’s the only network interviewing this garbage.

Surprise, surprise…last night she was being interviewed on Fox News to talk about her role as “traditional marriage” counselor.  How? Has she been married? Why is she a counselor???

While she’s already made her views on “marriage” quite clear, the runner up was snooty when it came to questions regarded civil unions.  Greta Van Susteren asked the questions…

VAN SUSTEREN: What is your thought on civil unions?

PREJEAN: My thought on civil unions? You know what, Greta? I don’t have the answers to everything. I’m not running for political office. I don’t have the answers to everything, you know, in the world out there.

But I think that there should be rights for people, you know, especially in California. I think that people that are homosexual should have some rights, you know, hospital rights, and things like that.

But I would like to be more educated on that, so when I do have a better answer for you, I will get back to you on that one.

But so far I just support traditional marriage, and that’s my main focus.

VAN SUSTEREN: What about adoption?

PREJEAN: Greta, I am focusing on marriage right now, not adoption, not civil unions, just traditional marriage, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to promote that.

Maybe home girl should stay off TV until she has better answers.  That or a better boob job.  Reports surfaced earlier this week that confirmed the Prejean had some boobies implanted.  Stupid because they’re still little pups, but I mean would her love Jesus approve? I mean it’s not okay for gays to get married, but it’s okay to alter your body and date a pot smokaaa? (She’s dating dolphin boy Phelps.) Someone smoked the Mary J way longer than she should have…courtesy her boyfriend. 

Even if I had a feeling that my family started the Swine flu, you wouldn’t see me blabbing about it to reporters and networks.  Maybe that’s because all of two people care what I have to say, but that’s still two more than Lisa Rinna’s got–I’ll TAKE IT.

So it doesn’t surprise me that Rinna has decided to make the Swine flu fashionable in her favor.  She swears that her family had that crap before it was ‘released’ to the public.Rinna gloated to the reporters while explaining how she believes this.  The last thing I would be doing is gloating—my ass would be in my doctor’s chair seeking immediate psychological help because there’s no way that shizz would be gone if I was “gloating” about having it.

No, a new Beavis & Butthead movie is not being produced and no, that’s not the lead choice for the role of Beavis.  That would be the bastard son of Farrah Fawcett and Ryan O’Neal.  Honestly, his name is perfect.  REDMOND.  Everything about this kid is RED.  Coinkydink?

So let’s talk about the many accomplishments of Redmond O’Neal.  Not only has he managed to toke up some crystal meth with his papa (and then get caught), but he’s still in drug woes even when his mama ain’t doing too hot in the health department.  How does one get away with being a drug addict time and time again? EASY! Follow these few steps and success if yours!

1. Claim Andy Dick Is Your Father

Trust me, the court WILL have sympathy.  Doesn’t seem too easy? One, your FATHER is Andy Dick.  Two, if you’re worried they won’t believe you, Andy Dick hardly knows where he is half the time so I doubt he’ll deny you as his kid.

2. Spice Up Your Luscious Red Locks

The court will be so mesmerized by your fire crotch that they won’t be able to send you away.  Dazzle ‘em, Robert Pattinson style.  Dye, if necessary.

3. Your Name Is Redmond

For the benefit of man kind and for the eyes of many prison guards, sending a white, freckled face firecrotched kid into the chokey is going to create many wall shakers in the shower pit.  That’s money to fix up the mess, pay workers over-time, and have butt hole surgery.  That’s thousands upon thousands of dollars, my friend.  Change your name, pronto.

Anyway, this kid’s been in rehab before for different drug-related charges, but guess what! The court seems to think he deserves ANOTHER chance to stay out of jail.  Did you see my three ways out of jail? PROVEN! According to a court spokeswoman, a Los Angeles judge has placed O’Neal in an “intensive drug rehabilitation program that includes in-custody treatment at Wayside Honor Ranch.” Makes sense since this is the same guy who ditched a rehab clinic recently.  Redmond best be on his BEST behavior because if he fails to complete the program (which could last one year), he’ll be facing the weens and peens in the shower steams–up to four years.

When people hear the word divorce, it’s all “OMG’z” and “sorry this, sorry that,” but when you look like the couple to the left…did anyone think two individuals who dress like THAT together would last?

So let me tell you in this edition of divorce why these two were destined for the laundry hole.  Between Kelis’ Marilyn Monroe rat’s nest, droopy eye, drawn in loca brows, poor excuse of a Elvira outfit and Nas’ Napoleon complex, matching mole to his once beloved, and an outfit that can only be described as something Uncle Fester would try on in the dark, the marriage was a mess from the start.  NOTE: People, if you can’t dress well together, you can’t STAY together.

A little background, the two met at a 2002 MTV VMA’s after party thrown by Diddy then tied the knot in 2003.  DOOM, DOOM, DOOM written all over it.  How does one expect to exit out of a Diddy party with your one year later wife in tow? Leaving a Diddy party with an official bitch is like leaving free slurpee day at 7-11 without trying all of the flavors.  Hey, at least bitch is smart.  Getting divorced while pregnant is priceless.  You get child support for your overextended stomach! Oh, and she’s seeking spousal support…she’s in the M-O-N-E-Y!

If you’re an avid reader of my blog, then you know how much I hate kids.  Okay, I don’t hate every kid, just kids I don’t know who sit behind me in movie theaters and talk to their parents throughout the entire movie.  And no, that totally didn’t happen to me this week and no, I almost didn’t throw my bag of popcorn on to his balding father and busting out of the pants mother.  My boytoy and I even “SHHHHHHHUSHED” a mil times to only have the mother go “okay, okay we have to whisper,” bitch this is a movie theater, not a fucking county fair.  Well, I hate old bitchy people the same, if not more.

Anyway, last Friday I payced out of work 45 minutes early.  I ended up getting to Penn Station around 4:28 and had 12 minutes to spare before my train departed.  What was even more beautiful was that my track was right next to McDonalds and I was craving their High-C orange drink.  You all know that delicious tasting treat.

So I skipped my ass over to McDonalds and awaited a rounded, pudgy cashier to get me my delicious tasting treat.  Off to the right to me were these two overweight women in their 60’s who wouldn’t be able to dress themselves even if Armani himself served as their personal fashion designer.  Pudgy McPudgerson looks at me and asks what I want so I walk up and tell her “I want my delicious tasty treat that leaves a terrible taste in my mouth” (insert joke here.) aka “Can I have a small orange hi-c?” Now to my right the ladies are still hanging around the registers and I see the one with her hand on her hip, giving me the eye.

Okay so I KNOW I always think someone is staring at me so I had to double-take to make sure this one was for real.  I did and caught the most tragic and unfortunate looking face.  I quickly turned my head to face the register again to avoid dead on illness that for sure was contagious from that God awful looking puss face.

“ARE YOU JUST BLIND TO US? WE’RE NOT BEING HELPED!” said the old bag to another pudge meister while quickly shooting me another look.  Pudge meister #2 tells her to come to my left and that she’ll serve her.  As I’m thinking wonderful thoughts of my could be bigger and fuller lips wrapping around the straw to enter a sweet blissful world of orange loveliness, I’m instead met by Satan. “NEXT TIME MIND YOUR MANNERS,” said the old bitch to MOI.

God, I had been waiting for something like this all week.  If it wasn’t a little kid I was allowed to hit on the head with my cola, an old lady who’s had enough time on this planet would suffice.  I give her the WTF look which everyone knows consists of a head cock back, a semi parted mouth with a lip up, quizzical eyes, and the zinger…hands turned on their palms to give the “huh?”

She basically tells me “You know what you did” claiming I cut a hag in line.  I thought bitch was waiting for Big Mac scented depends, so excuse my mistake.  So that was that.  I told the old bitch to shut it and to ”Mind her mouth” because she was sitting next to me at the machine waiting for fucking God himself to stuff her face with french fries and that this was NEW YORK and no one serves you unless you fucking open your crusty mouth.  Oh, by the way these broads wanted an ICED COFFEE…hell-fucking-o there’s a Starbucks and Dunkin Donuts located right across in Penn.

Her fat friend then told her “It’s not worth it” in like this terribe manish voice that sounded like it took one too many cum hits in the early 80s.  Friend continues, “say whatever you want about her to me”…mind you she’s trying to whisper at this point, but my super bionic ears heard a bitch.

After Pudge McPudgerson handed me my special drink (why it took so long, I have no idea—had I not been so invested in being a tough chick for the last five minutes, I’d have realized it was taking longer than usual), I took my tasty treat with pride, went right into the old broad’s face and shouted “YOU SAY WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT TO SAY ABOUT ME TO MY FACE.”

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t appropriate and maybe that wasn’t mature, but those bitches have at least 40 years on my ass…so who’s the mature one really?