Dating With A Poker Face

“I won’t tell you that I love you/Kiss or hug you/Cuz I’m bluffin”

Lady Gaga is brilliant. There. I said it. It’s out there and there is no going back. Sure, I’m a fan of her music, and I think her style is crazy sick (in the fiercest way possible) but there is something else I’ve come to adore about her. Her persona is so blunt, unapologetic, and out there, and yet, she is shrouded in mystery. We have clues to the depths of her through her music, her videos and even the bizarre outfits she wears; yet we continue to wonder, “What is REALLY going on with her?” I believe that there is something to this as we put ourselves out there in the dating world time and time again. Shouldn’t we have layers to ourselves that protect a portion of who we really are? Shouldn’t select people get to see this EVENTUALLY? How can we be upfront and honest without letting our guard down?

Here’s the thing: I would love nothing more than to go around with platinum blonde hair, designer sunglasses, wearing a corset made of a disco ball and hot pants over fishnet stockings while carrying an umbrella. (It is moments likes these I wish I were a drag queen.) I think this would intrigue people yet keep them away from me. While I’m on this trip down daydream lane, I think I would also have a posse of male models playing music while I do fierce choreography down the streets of Chicago. Ahhhh a girl can dream. Luckily in real life I do indeed strut down the street. Anyhow, the point is that without all these theatrics, a “normal” girl must find other devices to protect her from all that is hurtful. We must deploy other defenses.

“The story of us, it always starts the same/with a boy and a girl and a (huh) and a game”

Yup. Hate the game and not the playas. We all have to play this goddamn game. It’s stupid, it’s lame and it just feels so counter-productive at some point when trying to find “that one special person.” (I just puked a little.) I’m sure you are all shocked to know that I am a blunt person and this translates very much into my dating life. And I have come to the conclusion that this scares guys. In fact, I’ve been told this. By several people. I guess this is my attempt to get rid of the game to some extent and to level the playing field, to look the guy in the eye and state my intentions and impressions. What is wrong with that? Apparently quite a bit, since it doesn’t work. At first, I think this brutal honesty protects Little Miss Ava. It separates the strong from the weak and who will put up with me. But somewhere along the line, if some dude sticks it out, this honesty turns against me and I find myself opening up more and more of myself.

And here is where I ask, WWLGD? How does one stay honest without giving all of themselves away? I feel at this point I should stress that in no way do I want to be aloof or a pretentious bitch. I hate that shit. I merely am searching for a more successful way of self-preservation.

“I wanna Just Dance but he took me home instead/Uh Oh- there was a monster in my bed/We French kissed on a subway train/He tore my clothes right now/He ate my heart and then he ate my brain"

This is the worst part. Letting this guy, who will turn into a monster of some kind, into your heart and your head. It happens. All the fucking time. Not just to me, but to my friends (see Rules to Dating My Friends.) And this just simply can’t happen anymore. For I no longer see the point of putting myself out there with nothing in return. I would rather have walls built high, shrouded in masks and costumes. Oh, and my career. And thus leads me to the last reason why I love La Gaga: her passion and drive to her career and her art.

“Je veux ton amour/Et je veux ton revanche/Je veux ton amour/I don't wanna be friends”

Sometimes it is just best to move on with life and make career and passions the focal point, once again. It’s fairly obvious that Lady Gaga is a sexual creature. Amen sister. But it would appear that she isn’t one for relationships. Her career and being Gaga is center stage. Who’s to say she doesn’t feel lonely at the top, but screw it. I think right about now I would rather conquer the world than be constantly tied down by going from one failed attempt at a relationship to another.

“And I know that it’s complicated/But I’m a loser in love/So baby raise a glass to mend/All the broken heart/Of all my wrecked up friends/ I’ll never talk again/Oh boy you’ve left me speechless/You’ve left me speechless so speechless”

the DVR: A Tribute

This topic has been on my mind and in my heart for about a month or so and I must express my appreciation and wonder for the magical device, the DVR, for it has changed m'life.

Back in the old days. Prehistoric, ancient times of yore, I would find a show, enjoy it, watch it and make it my beeswax to be on the couch at that given time each week for my show. Either that or trust that I would catch a repeat airing. Dicey.

And then the DVR came into my life (otherwise known as calling Comcast and being like, "I want that DVR thing, in my house, attached to my TV. Kthanks.") And now, my life will never be the same.

*CAUTIONARY NOTE: Do not record daily programs like, "The Soup" or, "Chelsea Lately." You will not be able to catch up with them all and your DVR will be 84% full in two days. Record shows like that when you know a special guest will be on.

Also, treat your DVR like men. Discard them (shows) you find yourself not watching  and delete after viewing a program. Clear that shit up for the next one...show. Oh you know.

My DVR has provided me with:

1) FAST FORWARD THROUGH COMMERCIALS WHEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

2) Bret Michels and his Skanks of Love. But you already knew that, right?

3) Tough Love on VH1. Goddamnit I love that show.

4) The Housewives of New York City. (The OC Housewives, I would like to note, make me want to conduct a lobotomy on myself. I CANNOT EVEN WAIT for the Housewives of New Jersey. Holy Fuck. Also, for spot on hilarious recaps, check out Scented Glossy Magazine. Love that funny bitch.)

5) Sitcoms like "The Office" and "30 Rock"

6) Lifetime Movies. Oh fuck yeah. We need to talk about this.

I don't know how many of you out there watch Lifetime, TV for Women, but OMG yah should. Lifetime is currently bringing the immortal and epic tales of Nora Roberts to life. Done. Count me in. Where do I sign up? I'm there.

Last night, Galatea and I watched "Midnight Bayou" staring that chubby child star turned hottie boom bottie Jerry O'Connell. Lifetime's recap:

In the Nora Roberts movie "Midnight Bayou," Harvard-educated lawyer Declan Fitzpatrick (Jerry O'Connell) impulsively gives up his settled life to buy Manet Hall, a newly restored plantation manor near New Orleans to which he has always found himself drawn. Legend has it that the house is haunted, and shortly after Declan moves in he starts hearing voices and seeing things. Declan is also distracted by an undeniable attraction to Cajun local Lena Simone (Lauren Stamile), who grew up on the bayou with her grandmother Odette (Faye Dunaway) and has her own deep connection to the manor. Living in the house, Declan begins to have visions from a century past and details of events that took place in the mansion. With the help of Odette, Declan and Lena realize that they are inextricably linked with Manet Hall and uncover a shocking secret that has been hidden there for more than 100 years. (The "Midnight Bayou" movie is based on the Nora Roberts book title of the same name.

I mean, COME ON! How can you NOT watch? Twenty minutes into this, oh what's the right word what's the right word, MASTERPIECE, Gee and I were invested. To the point that we were shrieking, "what the FUUUUUUCK!" and, "Shut the FUCK up!" along with, "Noooooooooo waaaaaaayyyyy" and the classic, "YEAH! Makeoooooouuuuuut." In retrospect, there could've been at least two or three more sex scenes but whatever. O'Connell was hot and the story line was gold. 

The DVR is currently holding for me "Tribute" starring Brittany Murphy (yeah, where DID her career go, right?) and sex on a stick Jason Lewis, better known as Smith from "Sex and the City." Brittany looks like a hot mess but Jason looks like he should take advantage of me. YEAH I SAID IT.

People, I think we can all put money on the fact that I will be watching each and every one of these movies with a carton of cappuccino with chocolate chips frozen yogurt in my little hands.

Now, if only Lifetime would re-air "The Golden Girls" again, my DVR life would be complete.

DVR, oh sweet sweet DVR, what joy and mindlessness you bring me. I lurve you.

Anxiously awaiting the return of Mad Men-

A-to-the-VA

an open letter:VH1

Dear VH1.
Wow. Where do I even begin? (Breath). Your Sunday night line-up has pretty much changed my life.There. I said it.
From 7:00-11:00 Central Time, I am mesmerized, delighted, in awe and happy. Oh so happy. Chicago winters are tough on me, VH1. They’re cold, harsh, bleak and depressing as fuck. But for 3 hours during the week, I am transported to amazing places and experience pure joy.

First, you bring me “Confessions of a Teen Idol” hosted by the ALWAYS relevant Scott Baio. Former teen idols are brought in to live together and have another shot at fame. These idols are Jeremy Jackson (Baywatch), Chris Atkins (The Blue Lagoon), Jamie Walters (90210 Original), Billy Hufsey (TV’s Fame), Adrian Zmed (TJ Hooker), Eric Nies (the first Real World) and David Chokachi (Baywatch). In each episode, the Idols go to group therapy to face the demons of their former fame and 

demise. 

Hottie boom botties from back in the dizzay

Next, a challenge is presented. Previous episodes include making over their image, auditioning for a commercial, putting on a show for children and auctioning themselves off for charity. All brilliant. They even had to sit and listen as a control group of women, their former target audiences saw the “then” and “now” of each guy and give their honest reactions to them. Not pretty in most cases. At some point in each episode, there is always one guy who can’t handle the pressure of the situation any longer and threatens to leave the show. 

And then comes Baio Ex Machina. Where would ANYONE be without El Baiocito? With a little help from his friend Wayne from The Wonder Years, they help talk whoever isin crisis mode. Ooooohhhhh Baaiiooooooo.

What is truly remarkable about this show is that it isn’t competitive. No one is getting kicked off if they don’t have the best makeover or don’t’ do a good job at the audition. These guys really support and care about want to see each guy succeed. 

Baiolicious

(Cue: awwwwww). It’s actually refreshing to see people act compassionate instead of turning into cutthroat maniacs. (Cue: Next two hours of programming).

At this point, VH1, I’m feeling good, feeling hopeful and already anticipating next week’s soul-searching with former idols. And then comes "Rock of Love Bus With Bret Michaels."

Dear Sweet Baby Jesus Lying in a Manger I love this show beyond most things I’ve encountered in my life (via TV). It all goes back to last fucking miserable winter. My roommate LOVED this show and I just didn’t understand. “Bret Michaels? REALLY?!” I would ponder. 

Bret, you're my hero

My brain just couldn’t get a grasp of this complex question, so I didn’t tune in. And then one day, my curiosity and depression got the best of me and like any good drug, I was hooked. Although the “Bret Michaels? REALLY?!” still plagues me from time to time, I soon realized it’s not about him per se, but the rather the CRazY beyotchs who fight, fuck and drink for this “Rock of Loooooooove.” This show has captivated my brain cells (as in, I have less of them now) and my soul (as in, surely I sold it to the Devil for loving this show so much)

that I have decided to commit a WEEK, yes Loves, a week to all thing Rock of Love. You. Are. WELCOME!

And so, I must wrap up hour 2, VH1 by saying, goddamnit this show has NEVER disappointed me. My jaw always drops, I’m always screaming/laughing (scraughing, if you will) with joy. You just need to know VH1 that Bret and his hos NEVER disappoint. EVER. Amen.
Klassy Ladies

And for the final hour of your fine Sunday shows: "Tool Academy." Vh1, this is reality TV. Period. This is th

e pinnacle. The tops. Years and years of reality competition shows have led to this gem of a miracle of an answer to a prayer of a diamond in a rough. Someone was under the influence of something mystical when they came up with this one.
Here it is, those of ye unsaved by the majesty of this show. THE POWER OF TOOL COMPELLS YOU!

Toooooooooooolssssssss!

Dudes arrive to a show they believe is “Mr. Awesome.” Immediately there is yelling, stripping, grunting, hair spiking, lotioning abs and madness as these men-children prepare to perform for a group of screaming women. They. Are. PUMPED. Meanwhile…their girlfriends (GFs from here on out) watch all of this go down in another room. They witness their boyfriends’ parade in front of, kiss, flirt and grind up on other women. Oh yeah.
The host, some dude with a smug voice, brings the men together after the show. And in walk the GFs. Jaws drop. Eyes lower. “Oh my God”muttered. GFs glare. Oh yeah.
Dudes are informed they are not, in fact, competing to be Mr. Awesome. Nay. Their GFs have enlisted them in the Tool Academy. HUZZAH! Dudes must go through sets of challenges such as Communication, Fidelity, Humility, Maturity, and Bravery, to name a few, in order to become reformed and worthy boyfriends. Oh yeah.
Now, when an Asshole is kicked is expelled from the Tool Academy, the GF has the option of either staying with the loser or leaving his ass. Oh yeah.
The winning couple receives $100,000, chump change in reality show terms as of late but the golden ticket jackpot here. Shit. I’d taken it.
In this moment, I have decided that I will devote a separate entry or two to Le Tool Academy and all it’s glory for there are so many specific moments I must address and simply throwing them in now will not do you justice, VH1.

Congratulations and thank you, VH1. Every week, I look forward to spending my Sundays with you. During these dark days of winter, you fill me with hope and wonder. What else can I say? 

You do good work, son.

All my love and Real Talk-
La Ava

when i grow up...

You guys, I figured it out! And I’m super excited that I’ve finally figured out my destiny.

 I’M GOING TO BE FIRST LADY WHEN I GROW UP! 

For. Real. Watch me do work.

Ok, yes, I realize there are a few logistical “issues” with this newfound goal, but damnit, you can’t fight *destiny*!

I mean, YEAH, I will need to:
a) Date from a pool of attractive men who will become senators (Democrats, thank you!) without looking like a total gold digga. Kanye, don’t go there.

b) Actually get into a relationship. (shudders)

c) Probably should start burying those skeletons in my closet!
d) Take up noble causes. And push my agendas of arts and education. Mwahahaha.
e) Marry the dude.
f) Make some pretty babies.

g) Hit the campaign trail, winning the American people over state by state until they vote for

 my man.

h) Move into the White House.

Oh, and do it ALL while looking FIERCE!

So, it’s obviousthat Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis is my inspiration. Clearly.

I even busted out my book, “What Would Jackie Do?” for further inspiration! Etiquette, style, class, grace, this woman was it all. I could SO do that! But as Galatea pointed out, I will need to accept that people will say bad things about my husband and will scrutinize how I run my family. All very important points to consider. But I think I could rock it out.

Another reason (a very nerdy reason) why I want to be First Lady, is to live in and with the history of the White House. I love me some historical facts and items. I love living in history. And I think I would enjoy living in D.C. for four to eight years. And like I said in my last post, I’m not the most political gal, but I would like to do some good and serve the public’s best interest. Plus, dignitaries will LOVE me! I would really like to do some international goodwill. I’ve got this you guys! I've. Got. THIS! Who's with me? Ava's husband for Prez in 2016? YES I CAN, BITCHES! 

Plus, I’ll look FAB in oversized sunglasses and chic clothes. Truth.

an open letter: hall and oates

With a recent appearance on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart, which set my heart a-flutter, I have decided to once again share my love letter to the incomparable Hall and Oates (previously posted on I Could Kill Her).

Dear Hall and Oates-
Wow. What else can I say to you, Daryl and John? You really cranked out those hits that defined the 80s, didn't you?
I mean, wow.
As I sit here, in my cube, with forty minutes left of my "workday" I thought I would write you to let you know that I believe your music must be totally underrated. THIS IS SOME GOOD SHIT!

People out there in the internets, do yourself a solid and click on these links and take. it. in!

Here's Rich Girl:

Get DOWN with your bad self.
This is quite possibly one of the most perfectly arranged pop songs of all time. Notice, how it begins so simple and pure then crescendos until it reaches an incredible climax of instruments and power. I could belt out this song every.single.day. I FEEL it that much. At that moment around the 2:06 mark with a pause into the "And you say..." BRILLIANT!

Private Eyes:
I mean, COME ON! What's NOT to like? Totally performance based. Costumed like private eyes (clevah, clevah). And flashing lights with the claps. So simple. Did I mention that synthesizer? Mmmmmm. Smells like 80s.

Maneater, The Orig:
The absolute epitome of what a great 80s video should be.
-80s Zoot Suits-check
-Shadows-Check
-saxaphone-check
-saxaphone player wearing shades-check
-that great 80s dance move, really made famous in Footloose, where you bounce side to side and then occassionally getting elbows involved- check yes
-COUGAR!!!!!-check say WHAT?!
-Prositute-check
-John Oates perm/fro bouncing while he dances-check and check
-Jumping in shot to sing "whoa-oa here she comes" every single time, against a corner-checkity check check
-intense staring into the camera-oh yeah check
-slight scat of "womaniswild whooooaaa" by Daryl- chizzeck
-once again, very performance based-nice check

I've watched this video three times now and it could quite possibly be one of my favorite things of all time. It is genius, nostalgic and fucking great. Words do not truly encompass the magnitude of beauty this video and song posses.

You Make My Dreams Come True:
Daryl and John, John and Daryl. You DO make my dreams come true. You are clearly having the times of your lives in this video and you know what? It makes me want to do the same. I want to bounce around the city listening to this song. I would be such a happier person. And maybe that's the point. You made music that made people better.

Yes, I am leaving out other seminal works such as "She's Gone" and "I Can't Go For That", both outstanding in their own rights. But with given this sampling, I guess what I'm trying to say is that although you're not cranking out hits anymore, you did good work and that's the gift that keeps giving.
Do Work Hall and Oates, Do. Work.

Hugs, kisses and Real Talk-
Miss Maneater Ava

P.S.-Dear John Oates' Moustache-
You deserve a letter of your own. You are powerful, potent and rich. You put many-a moustache to shame. You are full of life and vigor. You make the 80s proud. Word on the street is that the moustache is making a come-back, well if that's the case, you are the ideal of what a good, nay, great moustache should be. Although in 2008, it should be noted, you no longer exist, which is a crime. John, give 'Stache a chance.

Moustaches and Rides-
Lady Ava