Saturday, September 25, 2010

chicle! chicle!

I learned an interesting fact from my friend that works for the company that makes my favorite gum... the Hispanic market accounts for 25% of the U.S. gum consumers.

It's no secret that I'm a gumaholic.

What a lot of people may not know is that I am quarter Mexican... you see the craving for chicle is in my blood...

So, when my friend invited me to a latin music concert sponsored by her company I jumped at the opportunity to find my straight Ricky Martin and to stuff my clutch with free gum samples!!

As the venue started to fill up I quickly realized that my Ricky probably was not in this crowd... I was surrounded mostly by Latina groupies who knew what I had no clue about... the headliner bands had some really good looking men. I have to be honest... I was more intrigued by the women around me than I was the musicians (a little too much of a "queso" factor for my taste) but these women provided fantastic people watching.

These chicas miraculously squeezed their curvy bodies in to the tiniest and tightest of dresses without a hint of slimming undergarments. That 75% white girl in me would never even dream of donning such a costume without extra strength Spanx, dim lighting and a few glasses of wine. I watched with admiration as these girls teetered on their stilettos with fiery confidence. They danced like a refrigerator magnet... you know the one... "dance like no one is watching" blah blah blah. It was a zest for life that came from the inside. They were sexy, spicy, adorable, and I wanted to be just like them.

But wait, I am Latina... at least 25% of me is...

I'm not sure why some of us allow the daily grind of life to dull our spirit. Heart break, exhaustion, disappointments, cultural influences and struggle over the years can quench our inner light. It just doesn't make any sense to rob ourselves of the joy that comes from living "la vida loca."

Trust me... I won't be squeezing my body in to colorful elastic tubes anytime soon... or ever, but I did find their body confidence and passion inspirational. I decided I needed to take a few notes from my little Latina sisters and let more of my true self shine.

After all... who doesn't want to exude spicy sensuality?

So, today as I sit here on my couch in my blogging uniform, which is a tank top and underwear, I decide to spice it up with a big white gardenia hair clip. And tomorrow morning I am going to my first Rumba dance class.

Olé!

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Crushes

I have a serious crush.

I am head-over-heals for a beautiful pair of Christian Louboutin booties I found at Barneys in Chicago last weekend. I can't stop thinking about them... so cute... we would make an amazing couple.

I am also crushing on some fabulous over the knee Frye boots as well. It's fall and I am surrounded by super hot shoes... super hot guys, not so much.

It's that wonderful time of the year and my heart skips a beat as I catch a glimpse of the new military jackets, jeggings, and shoes, shoes, shoes.

The good news is it's fall... the bad news is it's fall.

The summer flew by... we almost didn't have one. I am believing that summer is the new fall, but that doesn't stop 2010 from slipping thru my fingers.

Sure, I began this quest believing that by the time fall came around I would be practicing my signature with my new surname... but don't think for a second I've given up hope...

Sometimes crushes are safer when they aren't real. I know that my checking account would have a hard time recovering from giving in to my crush on those booties, and sometimes giving in to a crush on the wrong guy can be a devastating choice as well. But as I leave behind a season of flings and fun adventures, I enter this new season more open to the risk of crushing on someone... maybe I will fall in love.

Hey, wouldn't those Louboutins looks fabulous with a wedding dress?






Sunday, September 5, 2010

Typing 101

When you're single the most annoying question people ask you is of course, "why are you single?" The second most annoying question is, "what is your type?" I can honestly say that I don't really have a clear cut type other than the guy has to be sexy. And I'm not sure exactly if that can even be classified as a type because this can come in all shapes, colors and sizes, so-to-speak and means something different to everyone. Sure... I have my preferences... and I have a few friends who think they know what my type is, although I have yet to have any of them track down the allusive wileygirl type and set me up... which could (lightbulb) be a good topic for another post...

I have recently discovered something even more annoying than being asked one of these two questions. I have been "dating" someone for the past 4ish months... (time out- let me first define "dating" as nothing serious, but definitely consistent)... anyway, almost every time I'm with this guy he feels the need to mention what type of girl he likes to date or typically falls in love with. You guessed it... he never describes anybody remotely like me and sometimes he describes the exact opposite of what he told me he liked the week before. Confusing, but mostly very annoying. I'm not exactly sure if he really doesn't know what he is looking for, is surprised that he is attracted to me because I'm not his usual type, or if he is trying to make sure I know that he doesn't want anything serious between us. But what has to be the most annoying thing about all of this is for some reason I'm completely intrigued and feel the need to solve this mystery.

Currently this is an on going riddle that I have yet to crack.

I have, however, made some discoveries about myself, my dating history... and maybe even my type. Mr. "Not-my-type" has made me think about the fact that, at least when it comes to the guys I have dated over the past decade, I am really not any of their types. I have realized that I am not messed up enough for them to save or prude enough to fulfill their madonna fantasy of a pure wife/mom. We all know there is an exception to every guy's rules which is hotness, and I'm not hot enough to over ride either of these "types".

For the most part it seems I am a serial saver dater. "They" say women are always trying to fix men...but let me tell you, there are an awful lot of "sexy" men out there who are on the market for a fixer-upper. I'm not sure exactly what it is about these men... insecurity, control, displaced liberalism... who knows, but I have come in second place to many a hot mess.

I suppose you can add "saver" to my "type" list, but not only is that about as vague and broad as sexy, it's also ridiculous. I'm not going to suddenly develop a case of the crazies so bad that one of these men is going to swoop into my life and rescue me in to the sunset.

So, I've thought about it and I'm adding a few more adjectives to my definite type list: sexy is still a must, hangability, genuine, secure, and most importantly looking for a wileygirl.