Living For The Moment

God, or something else up in the clouds, has been testing me recently.

Over the past 2 weeks: I lost my job, found out my grandfather was in the hospital while I was on my vacation to California, and had to come home early. He passed away in his sleep on Saturday, March 27th 2010.

It makes me so sad to think about it. I didn't have too much of a relationship with the man. Every time i saw him it was: "L-Squared! You've gotten so tall! Glad to hear you're reaching for your dreams." Aside from seeing him every passover, I got 2 checks in the mail from him annually, and they were never more than $15 dollars. All of this aside, the man has had a profound influence on my life. He was a songwriter, and i grew up with his songs in my home. To those that do not know, I am a songwriter and composer, and I have this amazing man to thank.

In 24 hours.. my grandfather's life changed entirely. Although he had Alzheimer's disease, a week prior to his death the man was able to go out to lunch and could hold a conversation (even though most of the time it didn't make sense). In 24 hours, my grandfather contracted pneumonia and became a vegetable. Going through this has changed my life entirely, and the way that I think about living.

Most people in our generation are really fearful. They've been hurt and build up walls to protect themselves. I've been that person many times in my life. Kids on the playground would make fun of me, and i got hurt so often that I just stopped speaking in class. This lasted up until my sophomore year of college. I didn't have opinions, and I might as well have been a vegetable. I wasn't a person.

If theres anything i've learned, especially going through this situation with my grandfather, it is this: live with no regrets. You could die tomorrow. What if you never told the person you're seeing how much you cared about them? What if you never stood up to the person that ruined your life? I never want to spend my life thinking "what if!" These walls that have been built over years of pain, will only continue to cause you more pain as long as they are in tact. I am going to do my best to rid myself of these walls, do what I want to do, and love like I have never loved before. I wish more people in our generation could follow this; we would be much happier human beings.

Remember to break down your walls, they will only hold you back from true happiness.

~L-Squared

Caribbean Time

I recently learned a new term from my dear friends L2 and L. I was busy being a typical New Yorker: complaining about things, but more specifically, about people who are perpetually 2-3 hours late. The term? Caribbean Time. Also known as Africa time.

Why call it this, you ask? Well, if I was living in the Caribbean I wouldn't show up on time for anything but a Pina Colada on the beach. And it's acceptable in these places.

But I am a prompt individual and while I recognize that it's completely fine for people to be 30 minutes to an hour late, depending on the situation, my issue is with those who are later. I have a friend who cannot arrive to anything close to the time it's scheduled to commence. I've even tried telling her to arrive two hours ahead by lying about the time, I've expressed my annoyance at her constant late arrivals (in a friendly way), and when when I go to anything she hosts (even late) she still hasn't even showered yet! So my question is this, why is she so late allllll the time? WHY? I just don't get it. What is she doing that she cannot be ready in time to be even an hour late? My friends and I have waited at bars for 4 hours for her before...not even sure why now that I'm looking back on it.

So here is the lesson/word of advice for this post: Don't be one of those people. Get your act together like the rest of us. You've been warned in advance when you are supposed to arrive so there are no excuses. People will stop inviting you to things.

K

GTL

Let's play a game I like to call "Spot the Juicehead".

If you watched the reality MTV phenomenon "Jersey Shore", you might be aware of the acronym GTL - gym, tan, and laundry - the ultimate guide for guidos/guidettes to feel great and no doubt look hawt.

For some reason, ever since this show appeared, I realize that more and more men/women in NYC are actually a big fan of GTL-ing and maybe even take it a little bit too serious. At points, I like to think they're put on earth for my entertainment. But as our friend Rach would say, "I am a bitch" (IAAB).

Take this guy to my left. Upon entering Central Park on a COLD Spring day, I could not help to notice this man and his ugh shiny ORANGE body attempting to get a tan - or entice a lady or two to join him.

This was evident from his routine of flexing his muscles, sexting on his cell, and from the fact that he was BY HIMSELF.

He is definitely more attractive than an oompa loompa, not by much though.

Anyway, in his honor I have developed a short song that should be sung to the tune of "Day Man"....

"Orange man..ohhh wooahhh. Master of the spray tan. Ooooh woahhhhh. Champion of the SUN. Ohh wooahhhh. You're a master at fist pumping and posing for everyone."

-LD

Purgatory

Per L-Squared's last post, I think most people would agree that dating in our generation is complicated. Dating in NYC might be even more so...

I have been seeing a guy for a few months now and this past weekend we finally started to talk about our level of dating... uh oh. GULP.

The last time I talked to a guy about that he ran away, and started dating his coworker. Fail.

Well, this time it wasn't so bad. We know we are a level beyond the early dating stage, but we are not quite at the level of a relationship.

You know where you can't make out with random dudes at the bar or that hot guy on the 4th floor because you might actually like this one...where you overlook anything bad because all you can see is the person's amazing side...where you only dip your toe into a serious conversation before changing the subject to something positive....

So what the f%#! do you call this stage?!? Datingship?! Purgatory? Inbetweening?!?!

We decided we needed to do the world a service and actually define our situation, however, we couldn't decide on a proper word to define it.

I think it's most appropriately referred to as "purgatory" because you are either heading to heaven or hell in your dating life. Though apparently there are no mimosas in hell so we had better keep things moving the other way.

He preferred to call it "in-betweening", which I thought was pretty good, but not quite enough to describe our situation, and also could be misconstrued as something inappropriate. (Yes, there's a reason that they call me Dirty D. My mind is in the gutter most of the time.)

"Hey LD, is that your boyfriend." -friend
"NOOOO. We're just in-betweening." -LD

That just sounds wrong.

SOOO... in a true effort to figure out what to call it, I am polling my friends and now the online community. Once we figure out the right word, we're submitting it to http://www.urbandictionary.com/ so that no one else ever has wonder what to call it.

Submit your ideas NOW (or cast your vote...for purgatory) and help us clear things up for the rest of the dating confused!

-LD

CGS... Why Men Make Sane Girls Crazy

Men.

We need them, whether we want to admit it or not. They are part of that whole pro-creation deal, and I guess that's reason enough to keep them around.

I have been fortunate in my life to be surrounded by beautiful, smart, self-driven, professional, sane women. I am proud to call these girls my best friends. My friends are a total catch to any man that would ever come their way.

Here's the issue.

New York City men usually don't live up to our standards. We don't want to be alone forever...so we try and try again with men, hoping one will be different and will prove us wrong. But one night, there's that one guy at this one bar who seems like he could be different. They get your hopes up, they text you every now and again. Then, you get attached. One day, he just stops calling. You find out later from a friend that he was seeing someone else, or that he just wasn't into you and didn't have the courage to tell you.

My friend R came up with an amazing term called CGS (Crazy Girl Syndrome). It's a mental disease that causes sane girls to go insane because of men.

The sad reality is that if you asked any woman in Manhattan if she had a boyfriend, they would probably have a story similar to the one I just described. She would say: "Oh I'm seeing someone.. I'm hoping it gets more serious but we'll see." What that woman fails to admit is that the "seeing" had been happening for 6 months...

Here is my message to all the men reading this: Just tell her you don't like her! We are tough NY chicks and we can handle it. We'd rather hear it from your mouth than to find out in other ways. I find it so hard to believe that a guy can say that he "likes" you and doesn't show it to you... It's dumb. Bottom line, he's just not that into you.

If there's anything a New York City girl should be proud of, it is this: We are hot, young, and have so much life ahead of us. Who needs a man anyway. ;-)

~L Squared