Facebook and Religion?

Posted by Gordita In The City Monday, March 14, 2011 0 comments

I'm a lapsed Catholic. Somewhere along the line of 25 years I was baptized, taught some prayers, and forced to make the sign of the cross every time I passed a church. My mom had this interesting way of giving everything I did a "Catholic Feel" ... you know - candles, incense, saints, rosaries - maybe its a carryover from her days in a Catholic Boarding School. Technically, I should probably be excommunicated for taking the host without having an actual "1st Communion"... but that's between me and the big person/entity in charge up there.

So that brings me to this curious holiday period called "Lent". That magical time of year where everyone and their mother seems to be "giving up" something for the sake having their prayers answered. They sacrifice vice (that rhymed!) to somehow encounter grace from god. Well...I'm not sure if giving up my Facebook vice last year for Lent brought me any closer to god - but it did bring me closer to the hypocrisy which is social approbation. Ethically, I wonder if it was really necessary to use Lent as an excuse to give up Facebook for 40 days and nights. I'm going to guess that that - not it wasn't very necessary as much as it was "opportune". Really, how many out of my 500+ Facebook friends really would notice my absence on a regular day? The same question I ask is...how many of us really care that you are nobly choosing not to eat cupcakes for Lent? Does god or the collective human consciousness really care or register your sacrifice?

I could argue theology all day...but the bottom line is like all of religion...we do what makes us feel better. Deprivation makes humans feel like they have a purpose for some odd reason. As sentient and sapient homo sapiens, we crave that which is rare...so everyone loves cupcakes...shun Cupcakes and Facebook to be the shining paragon of virtue that glitters amongst a beach of mud and muck...

Hopeless Romanticism: Love is a Bitch...and then you want some more!

Posted by Gordita In The City Monday, March 7, 2011 0 comments

"Love does not mean surrendering, "losing yourself". It is a call to ripen.  Don't look for straight lines. Life is never like that." - Kama Sutra
Love is a bitch. It's hardly ever there when we need it, we chase after it like a bunch of junkies, and even when we get it, we spend half of our time not to lose it or keep it from changing. I've said it before, but people hate ambiguity. It's my honest opinion, that most people that claim to be in love really don't know what the hell they are talking about, or even have any conception of the hot mess they are about to get themselves stuck into. 
I'm a recovering hopeless romantic.  Yes...recovering..or at least re-branded. I prefer to say, "Hopelessly Hopeful," or maybe just live without the title on my preferences and stick to pragmatic idealist. I'm going to be harsh... because I had to be harsh on myself because it simply drove me nuts. Hopeless romanticism is a pandemic that is ruining marriages and relationships left and right!
Isn't it ironic.. .that hopeless romanticism leads to more breakups and broken hearts than anything else.  Think about it. The media feeds us this image of  "Happily Ever After NO MATTER WHAT"... couples defy the odds. If your true love is married to someone else... NO PROBLEM! You can break up the marriage and be together and it was all for a noble cause. 
Romeo and Juliet (killed themselves), Tristan and Isolde (did it before Romeo and Juliet), Madame Bovary (used, abused, suicide by arsenic), Antony and Cleopatra (suicide), The Little Mermaid, Anything Nicolas Sparks(They actually find their great love... and then die!)... my mind is going blank. 
What makes me laugh is how many guys that I have dated, liked, or hung out with that are hung up on some chick they used to date or some ideal.  It's usually the one that got away.  Usually, this girl is someone that evaded them due to their own assholey decisions or neglect. Better yet, it's the girl who doesn't want them.  She rejects his calls, won't give him the time of day, etc .. etc.. etc.  Not to just put the finger on guys, girls are equally pathetic in the way they will pine and care after a guy who doesn't really care if they live or die. 
Our generation has turned love and sex into this commodity that is meant to provide comfort, constant stimulation, and satisfaction to the point where I'm like... "It's a F**g Relationship... NOT DISNEYLAND!!"
At best, love in it's truest form is a transitional and temporary state.  It's living and it changes the way it is supposed to. For this reason, I highly recommend that people watch "The Science of Attraction" on the Discovery Channel... it basically debunks hopeless romanticism into a drug addicted-like state and sets the biological record straight that long-term love isn't about magic... its about goal setting.  This means that our ancestors had it right, it's old-fashioned determination and commitment. You commit yourself to making the old ball and chain the best ball and chain that ever existed and rule out all other possibility. How else did anyone get shit done? Modernism has turned love into a candy store of customizable options.  I can now go online, check a few boxes and find some guys that match my checklist and only worrying about the details if I dig the picture.  Before the advent of technology, I actually had to "Debut", parade around socially and run into someone I hoped I had chemistry with... and OMG!! Send a letter!
This all sounds very cynical - but I find it freeing. The reality is that the more you spend obsessing about old or unattainable love, the more you screw up your future possibilities.  You should stop frowning, because someone might actually fall for your smile. I think all great loves have their time. You will never get that time back again, and if the boat sailed... it's chances of returning to the same port are very narrow, it has to find space where it can and sometimes it's not always the right space. 
 But, I suppose that is what hopeless romanticism is all about, standing on that shore waiting for the boat to come in. Waiting on what ever glimmer/shred/instance of hope you have until some magic happens. 
When you are a hopeless romantic... you are simply an addict. Addicted to love.  So strung out, when you don't get your fix... you create new ways get it.  This might include things like the following:
1. Listening to really sad love songs ...especially if you aren't even sad about anything... you just listen to it because you're bored and you really want to feel something.
2. When you start dating someone, you compare them to your other "great loves"and get disappointed when it is not exact.. (you know.. because everyone is the same and it has to be perfect everytime).
3. You spend more time creating perfect scenarios of how you are going to execute romantic plans or elaborate ruses to gain your object's attention... rather than actually getting off your lazy ass and completing it once and for all. (this is what most people would call procrastination... which is a fear response).
4. You fantasize constantly about the future without really dealing with the present or paying attention to the signs that it takes two... not one just dreaming like a dope. 
5. Make any excuse you can to talk about it. ..
actually.. this list is making me sick writing it. I'm going to assume you all are not idiots .. and know what I'm talking about. 
The bottom line... Grow a backbone and do something about your life and your fantasies.  Dream... really I encourage it.. it's the beauty of life.  Just know the difference between healthy and hopeless.  Note that it is hope-LESS... you gain nothing... infact.. just less of whatever it was you had before - including dignity for the really extreme cases. 


Big girls and.... Stripper Poles?!?

Posted by Gordita In The City Sunday, March 6, 2011 0 comments

Last night I had the wonderful pleasure of going to a popular gay club in Boston called Machine... and I was delighted to find out that not only did they have gogo boxes ... but they had dancing poles!  Now, for a girl of not-so-tiny size... I'm pretty gutsy without the need of copious amounts of alcohol, drugs, or an exotic locale.  I am famous for incidents such as the Viva Las Vegas Banjo Bounce Dance and other bouts of fun. As usual... if you don't want to read my drivel... scroll down for 'Gordita in the City's Audacious Dancing To-Do List"

I really don't care how most people perceive it.  Yes, we can get into all the phallic implications of stripper poles and get into a heated debate about propriety - but that is not what this blog is about. We are going to be celebrating liberation I suppose? I guess I figure if I'm going to be so narcissistic to have you reading about  my life and worldview ... it better be nominally entertaining.  I consider last night to be a real Gordita In The City moment, celebrating the birthday of Central Square's most infamous Spanish Anarchist who shall remain nameless. We started off with beers at the Middle East and then off in a cab where I fell in love with a pair of puta red leather gloves that belonged to the girl that one of my best guy friend's is dating (okay... that's confusing!)

At Machine:

In terms of the Kinsey Level of gayness at Machine... I'll say a Kinsey 4, in comparison to Santa Monica Blvd (West Hollywood).   I mean... despite me celebrating my official 5 Year Singleversary, I didn't really care whether or not I would be picking up on guys or not.. it was about having fun (plus all the straight guys at the joint were in my group anyway).

When I found out that the stripper poles were open to use by ANYBODY as long as the go-go dancers weren't in need, I literally started awkwardly hopping up and down for joy.  In a very ADD-esque moment, I jumped on the box and immediately started testing the strength of the pole only to find out that ... IT SPINS!!!  Now... I'm already attracted to shiny fun things, but shiny fun things that spin... AND are on an elevated surface... I was flipping for joy... Until that moment washed over my POV.

Inside Gordita's Head at Moment of Discovering Free-for-all stripper pole:
 Ohh.... shiny! Okay... it holds me - check.  Spinny- spinny - try not to fall. Shit. There is a really skinny girl on the pole next to me - no biggie.  Wait. She's kind of cute.  Who cares, its a gay club - everyone is happy here.  What if I fall...OMG its going to be like Scarlet Takes a Tumble!!!     Noooooooo! Omg.. I'm gonna be that fat attention-whore at the club.. Mo, get a grip. This is fun, nobody cares. Fun. Fun. That's it - you enjoy this sort of stuff because you don't do it at home.  But what if I fall? STFU, get on the pole and show it whose boss.. But i'm Scared... FU GO GIRL!!

I held my breath and let myself spin on the pole to test it out and hoping I wasn't going to fall on my ass. Let me tell you, if you haven't tried one of these things... it is a lot of fun.  I see it as a big kid's merry-go-round.  When I get up there, it has nothing to do with me being sexy.. it's about what I like to call the "Weeeee Factor" also known as... innocent kid fun. It took a few moments to get into the swing of things... but I enjoyed it.

My mom always taught me that if you are going to do something, never do it half-ass.  After awhile, I asked the gogo dancer how to do a basic pole move and she taught me.  For a moment I thought, "I'm too heavy... no way I can do that on the pole," after I got over my own insecurity in the moment.. I shut up and actually tried and guess what? I did it! I slid my hands on the cold stainless steel, jumped, and clamped onto the pole by crossing my thighs tightly as the girl showed me.  I practiced a few times and then had the idea that it would be fun to try dancing on the pole with a scarf. I borrowed a scarf and used it as a prop and rope at the same time. Sooner than you would know it, my girls were joining me and even a gay guy from the dance floor joined my dance.  I hopped off of the box and went over the bar for a drink when I was stopped by a group of ridiculously attractive guys (no they were not straight).

Guy 1: I loved your dancing, you're not stopping are you? 
Guy 2: Omg, so much better than that twig right there - somebody needs to give Britney Spears over there a fucking hamburger.
Me: She's cute - maybe she's just -
Guy 1:  She looks disgusting, probably strung out on drugs wishing she moved like you. Where did you learn how to do that?
Me: I just hopped on the box cause it was fun?
Guy 3: I'd go straight for you if vagina didn't weird me out.
Guy 2: You should be a dancer here.

Needless to say, I walked away from them a bit stunned and flattered.  In my head, I saw this crazy chick who was just having fun.  These guys ... who don't even subscribe to my gender thought I was actually kind of hot. The encounter showed the disparity between my inner thoughts and public perception.  Yes, maybe the skinny go-go dancer that taught me the move looked more graceful than me and could probably do much better acrobatics.. but I could learn that.  Maybe there were people who didn't like the idea of me being on that box... but guess what? The world doesn't care enough to really have me monumentally matter to the point of the entire club stopping and saying "Bitch, get off the box!" I got back on the pole again, had more fun with the scarf.. kind of doing this peek a boo / using it as a support rope to do funny stuff.  At one point... I did fall on the corner of the box as if I fell onto a saddle and felt the equivalent of a guy getting kneed in the nuts because someone got in my way..( cough, cough, you know who you are). 

At the end of the night, I went home with my girl Kat and we tumbled into bed. After making a bagel and laughing about skipping the afterparty, I fell asleep on her couch reading a travel guide to Europe.  I guess I wanted to dream about going to Spain and all that Jazz. I woke up this morning with the WORST bruises on my thighs and arms. I guess if you are going to play hard, you pay the price.  I really understand why exotic dancers and burlesque dancers look smacked up. Its not from back-breaking sex... or pimps... but you try slamming your body weight against chairs or steel for a few hours and see how you look.

I mean - I had a blast. I've had nights where I went to Saddle Ranch in Studio City, CA  dancing on top of the bar with girls that had way cuter outfits and more fit bodies than me and guys actually would give me dollars because I was a good dancer. From the outside - it might look like I'm drunk and in need of some missing attention , most times, I just like dancing on bars and go-go boxes because there is more dancing space and it's much cooler than the sweaty dance floor.  So I guess, if other girls read this - and there should be a take-away message... its that "sexy" is that it is all about the three "g's" Glamour, Guts, and Grace.  It had nothing to do with size or even looks so much.  I might throw out the word "skinny" alot like it's an epithet, but this applies to ANY girl.  Even some of my tiny girlfriends have issues about their weight or looking a certain way. In a way, nights like last night give me hope that there is some love out there for everyone. Me being on that box was all about transcendence (yes.. I'm making that big of a deal with it... deal with that!).  For a few minutes, you surrender yourself to your own energy, the synergy of those around you, and wallow in awesomeness.

The truth is nobody is born fabulous, you grow into it with some confidence and gumption. I'm the last girl that you are going to see walking down the street with a midriff top, but guess what? I enjoy Belly Dancing, dancing Burlesque (yes.. all inclusive), and now pole dancing is on my list of sexy/cool things I want to learn. So are big girls and stripper poles a good mix... ABSOLUTELY! Not only do you have permission, I think there should be a movement of flesh on the dance floor.  Jiggles and everything because as I said to my friends at Emerson, "Ain't no mountain high enough, bitches!"

So because I like lists... I'm going to give you my Pole Dancing / Mo's Acts of Audacious random BS to do list.

Gordita in the City's Audacious Dancing To-Do List:

1.  Fall with grace:  Yes - you are going to fall especially if you are heavier and you don't have a good handle on moves. This is what me and my friends affectionately call "Mo's Roll /Bounce".  If you have to fall, try to fall into a cheerleader pose, thigh down to cushion the rest of your body, then ROLL or tumble to get yourself in a better position to be steady, and BOUNCE back up to disguise the fact that it wasn't on purpose.  Easier said than done - the point is if you land on the floor mid-sexy move, arch your back, give a sexy smile and come up slowly and gracefully as if saying, "I got this - I'm so fly I take it to the floor and get away with it"

2. Remember You are the girl that can get away with it:  I know this sounds weird and new agey.. but attitude is everything. The more nervous and unsure you act, the more people will look at you like you are crazy. Plaster a sexy mischievous smile on your face, some downward glances, a few well-timed laughs and you are golden. 

3. If you are going to that dance floor.. you have to employ the "Get-away Booty" move and use your ass to clear a nice enough space to achieve your dancing splendor.  The purpose of this is to say... "Guess what, I'm here and I'm getting crazy so watch or get hit".  You might get a few weird looks... but using your butt instead of your shoulders to clear space is a wiser overall move because it is non-invasive and not perceived as aggressive. More fights and irritated people are started because somebody was too dumb to think that pushing was actually polite.  Pick a spot, start moving your hips in an exaggerated way as if you don't notice other people and trust me... they will move. You can also use that move to pick up on cuties.

4. USE PROPS!!  I can't stress this enough... especially if you are self-conscious of  your looks. If its interesting, it is a conversation piece and a flirting tool. My personal favorite is a scarf/shawl.  You can use it to lasso people in, tie it on your waist to hide a bulge, use it to clear space, if you rip your jeans you can cover the hole, dance with it in a way that looks visually stunning and distracts from your body.. hats are also fun ... especially fedoras and the like where you can take them and put them on other people. Girls and guys LOVE hats... especially cool ones.

5. Don't do a back bend or arch unless you are absolutely sure you have the upper body strength to not fall back. Most of the time it looks tacky and slutty unless you are with a group of people you trust.  It is usually not the most flattering angle for your body anyway... and really only shows off that you may have potential sex skills.

6. If you are unsure of how to dance, follow the bass beat.  You are better off dancing slow than dancing like a jerky crazy white girl with no dance moves (yes... I used a stereotype).  At the end of the day, moving your hips and counting a 1-2 side step looks much better than trying to coordinate your upper body (the part most non-dancers have trouble with).

7. Don't be afraid of 90's dances like the Macarena or running-man. With the right attitude... tacky party dances are cool and will work in forming a circle and accolades.   If you notice, you can get away with ANYTHING as long as you set a tone that this is okay and you don't care. Notice I didn't say oblivious... pay attention to reactions .. but follow your instincts. You are doing what most people WISH they had the balls to do.  I bet you anything if you start doing this during an obviously nineties song... people will jump in because they are waiting for a social cue for it to be okay.  So.. be a trendsetter ...not stepper.

8. For gogo boxes, bars , and Poles: BEFORE you get fabulous shaking your ass, test the surface and the leg spacing. Girls fall off of shit because they don't pay attention to the surface.  Make sure its dry, all glasses are far away from you, and that you have reserved just enough space to maneuver side to side.  When you get up, make sure you ask management or the nearest bouncer... you don't want to be THAT girl. When you are dancing... be respectful, It's not a contest.  Take your time and get into a groove that works for you. Just because the girl next to you is pumping her booty out and clapping it doesn't mean that it will look good or even be right if you do it.  At the end of the day, you know what you are capable of ... on top of a bar with limited space is not the time to try new and crazy things. 

9. For god sakes - Unless you are doing ball room dancing or salsa... leave the dresses at home.  Even if they are long, dirty dancing in a dress is just wrong.  It sends the wrong message.  Wear leggings or jeans... I prefer leggings because of flexibility.  Dancing on a bar in a dress sends the wrong message, bending forward in a dress with a guy humping you from behind is better left to the bedroom.  It's common sense, but you don't want to be limited by your clothing.  Think about this... a club is so crowded... when do you ever see anyone's feet?  Wear sensible heels 2-3 inches at the most if you are planning on dancing.  You don't look cute taking your shoes off or bouncing side to side because your feet hurt.

10.  To stay on Poles and guys that pick you up - The key to staying on a pole or a guy is to clamp your thighs and keep the space small and tight.  Do squats if you need to, but its not in your arms (that's your weakest part).  You will have to use your upper thighs, not the part near your knees. If you have ever been on a mechanical bull, you should know the feeling.  If you feel off balance, adjust your hips, NOT your chest.  If you must and you can reach, clamp your ankles. If you feel yourself sliding past the point of no return.  Cheat your strongest leg down and curl your abdomen to keep your center of gravity. .. If you are on a guy, you can even make that move fun.

Anyway, that's my rant... keep it sexy - and classy ladies.

Bienvenidos! Hola! Orale! Welcome

Welcome to the rantings and ravings of a twenty-something Latina who just happens to have ADHD , enjoys the luxuries of working class life in urbania, and believes strongly that women (and men) need to stop using body size as an excuse not to live their lives...as for being a minority.... well I like it spicy and mixed.

At this blog, I rep the West Coast ::insert gang sign here:: while moonlighting as an East Coaster.
As you stumble around you will find a pretty wide variety of things: advice, anecdotes, recipes, and pretty much whatever spews forth from my multi-faceted life.
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