Has the Opposite Sex Become Obsolete?


Season 3 Episode 34 Still


Truthfully, for this woman the answer to that question is yes, the opposite has become obsolete.  In a way.  I can’t wait for my not conceived children to meet their grandpa.  Last I checked you can only have a baby with sperm and I think that having strong men around is great.  I learned a lot from my father and my uncles.  Yet, even as a teenager I was pretty sure that women could rule the world and we would only need to keep around a few really smart, kind considerate males (in containment of course) for the purposes of breeding; both “natural” for those so inclined and the old fashioned turkey baster method. 

I was having a conversation with someone the other day and was so shocked by the questions coming out of their mouth that I decided I needed to post.  This person asked if I always knew that I was gay and wanted to know when I came out.  Answer- I came out at 28 and always knew that I was gay.  They then asked, “well don’t you miss having sex with men?” and my simple answer was No, I don’t miss it.

Interestingly last night I started watching Season 4 of SATC when Samantha starts to date Maria.  She and the girls have just met up at the coffee shop after a long weekend and Samantha starts in giving the ladies a very insightful look into the makings of lesbian sex.  We learn that Samantha has discovered every thing there is to know about the pussy.  She tells them she’s getting an education and not for nothing, a lot of women could do with a bit more learnin’ about their vaginas; gay and straight.  For Samantha, it’s just a new chapter in her sex book.  After two episodes she and Maria break up.  For me, and a lot of women who come out later in life, it’s about rediscovering who you are.

Thing is, I didn’t choose to be gay no more than I chose to be black.  I was born this way.  I did, however, choose to be straight for a very long time.  I made the conscious decision to live my life as a pseudo-straight person because I thought it would be easier for me and for my family.  Living and dating as a straight woman I had sex with men.  I will even put it out there that most of the time I had an okay time.  Other A lot of times I fantasized about having sex with women.

The first two times in the lesbo-sac were a bit rocky.  I didn’t know what I was doing and to call it awkward wouldn’t be a lie.  Then I had amazing sex and, well, let’s just say I’ve never looked back.  It’s not just about the sex, of course, it felt great because I was finally doing something that felt right.  Do I ever look at straight couples and wish I were in a hetero relationship?  Only when the realization of the ease at which they’re given civil rights and then it just makes me angry and want to work towards equal rights for all people.

While I’m not a hetero-phobe I’m definitely pro-other.  Whether that other is based on age, race, sexual orientation or religion the others out there need be recognized as equal in our society.  One of my friends posted on Facebook today that our country was ripe for a revolution and you know what?  I think we are.  We live in 2011 where a black man sits on the seat of the most powerful country in the world and last week thousands of Americans were given pink slips.  Reading in the NY Times today I learned that teachers in Wisconsin are being notified that they will be loosing their jobs, and only a fraction of them will be able to actually get those jobs back in the fall.  Women are continually paid less money and the rights of a woman to, as Representative Moore so eloquently stated, Plan her Parenthood is under attack.

While for me, in terms of sexual satisfaction the opposite sex has become obsolete we all need to stand together to make sure we’re all afforded the same rights.  Gay rights shouldn’t be the concern of LGBTQ individuals and their families only, it should be the concern of all Americans.  The rights of women shouldn’t just be a concern for women but any one who has a mother, sister, or aunt.  The rights of the disabled, the rights of the aging, the rights of unions the rights of every American should be the concern of every American.  Until we can get to that point, and as it seems we’re never going to reach that understanding, we need to rally.

Thank you to the New Yorkers who went downtown today to rally for the rights of others.  I was at work but with you in spirit.


Back in New York

Sometimes when I touch down in a NYC airport songs float through my mind like I’m listening to a soundtrack.  Sometimes it’s The Beastie Boys, “No Sleep ‘Til Brooklyn” sometimes it’s JayZ with “Empire State of Mind” and yesterday it was ole Blue Eyes himself with the best love song to the City that Never Sleeps, “New York, New York.”

Mirs came home with me and met my nephews, sister, and parents.  They even broke their “no sleeping in the same bed because you’re not married rule” on the second night.  It was purely circumstantial, my youngest nephew was allowed to sleep through his usual two-hour nap until around 11PM when he awoke wide-eyed, talkative with no hope of falling back to sleep.  I was grumpy with our early morning flight weighing on my mind and between my child-like pouting and whining and the little one’s energy my mother said, “Just sleep in the same room” so we did. Sleep.  No touching, I barely kissed her.  I mean, it should be a thrill doing it in your parents…I can’t even finish that statement, it sort of gave me the willies. 

There was nothing in my 31-year-old body that made me even remotely turned on about the prospect of doin’ the dirty in mom’s bed.  Because it’s now my mom’s bed, because they’ve probably done it on there, because their room was only a whisper away, because I felt really uncomfortable.  I dunno, maybe when I’m older it’ll be more of a thrill, or if I were older but at 31 the idea of getting down with my parents around wasn’t sexy, it was nerve-wracking so instead we snuggled a bit and fell asleep in the giant cloud that is my mattress that I spent big bucks on but wouldn’t fit in my car when I moved to NYC so now it’s my mom’s bed bed.

10.08.10, My 31st Birthday and my first Flash Mob

A little after 6PM at New York’s Grand Central Terminal a whistle sounded three times.  After the third cry dozens of bodies slowly collapsed to the ground.

6PM on a Friday night in Grand Central Terminal is sort of a mash up of many things.  It’s a tourist stop and Friday is the day they all come to NYC.  It’s right after the work day when the trains to Westchester County and Fairfield County stop running express and drag on forever on the local schedule.  It’s where business men and women stop for drinks before heading home, it’s where brides and grooms take pictures after their NYC weddings.  On October 8, 2010, it let those busy, bustling people see the effects of homophobia.

property of Erika K. Davis

The fact is that Homophobia Kills.  It kills in a very real sense, the names of people we’ve lost due to homophobia were said aloud for all of those present could hear their names.  Homophobia also kills the soul.  When a gay youth is told that they are worthless, they are sinners, they are ugly, they are inhuman and they have no outlet or resource to give comfort their soul dies.  Just as a child should never be told they are stupid, no gay person should ever discount their worth. 

Property of Erika K. Davis

When people turn a blind eye to hateful words and ugly deeds, Homophobia Kills.  It was to be expected that hurried New Yorkers would walk over the bodies.  We were occupying one of the busiest spaces on the entire island, but the not seeing of the New Yorkers trying to make their trains, the lack of compassion to even stop and ask, the desire to not see the death around them was eye-opening and it’s more than just a metaphor it is reality.  People hear and see acts of violence done to LGBTQ people and instead of lending a hand, they walk away.

Tikkun Olam is Hebrew for repairing the world.  It is our duty, as Jews, to participate in the repair of the world on every level.  We grow up in a Christian society that spouts sayings like, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” but its loaded and rattled with inequalities.  Our society as always put some one, some class, some minority aside or down to lift another up.  We cannot sit idly by and watch this continue to happen.  I urge you, no I implore you to do what you can to repair the world. 

I often wonder what happened to the Civil Rights activists of the 60s and 70s, did they not teach their children to act up?  Why aren’t some of us, folks in our late 20s and 30s, children of these activists more active?  When they saw the world around them filled with injustice and inequality they marched, we hop online.  Personally, I always say but rarely do. 

Yesterday was my birthday and I felt alive watching the dead bodies lie in Grand Central Terminal.  I felt moved in a way I haven’t felt in a long time.  I was inspired and I was angry but the thing that I realized is that I should only be angry with myself for not moving, talking, acting sooner and found inspiration in those who gave their lives, unwillingly, to the cause.

Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby

Is “You can never have too much sex!”  An accurate statement?  How much sex is too much sex and How much sex is too little.  It’s subjective, clearly and I don’t have a real answer, only rhetorical questions I’ll assume you will all answer.

Is sex a barometer of your relationship.  ie. If you have a lot of sex, your relationship is good and if you don’t have a lot of sex your relationship is bad.  My theory is that’s it’s really situational. 

Let’s say you have sex every day but your relationship is shit otherwise.  You and your partner don’t communicate well, you argue when you’re not having sex, you don’t have much in common other than the sex and you’re not connected in any way.  At times the sex is amazing; earth shattering, mind blowing, multi-orgasmic.  Other times it’s just okay, you both know every move and you’re working on an orgasm quick as possible.

On the other hand, let’s say you have an amazing relationship with your partner where you communicate in a real, sincere way.  You argue but over normal things, not just to bitch and moan.  You’re connected to your partner and you have tons in common.  You and your partner have sex, just not every day, or every week, or every month. When you do have sex though it’s always amazing.  You have not just one orgasm, not just three, you have at least a half dozen and you have sex multiple times for that stint.

Which scenario is best?

What is Love?

Love can mean a lot of different things for a lot of different people.  In high school I learned that there were 3 different types of love; Eros, Phileo, and Agape Love.  The first being physical love, often referred to erotic love, the second being friendship love, and the third being “unconditional love”.  The idea being that the first two kinds of love could be considered love of condition, it could fade with the friendship or the affair and the third type, Agape, is the kind that is the hardest to achieve because it implies that there are no conditions; it’s a godly love.

This theory of love has been taught for centuries and I’m not here to dispute them on theory rather than to argue that one could love a person, possibly one person, on all three levels.  For instance, you could meet someone and instantly be infatuated with them, Eros.  After your infatuation subsides you begin to see the depths of the person, perhaps you start dating and as you learn more about them the Eros is combined with the Phileo.  After some time more you are in love and committed and this is where the Agape comes in.  You love this person because of who they are, not despite of who they are. 

Mirs and I are listening to some vinyl she found on the side of the street.  Some asshat threw out amazing Funk, R&B, Soul, and Old School Jams like Chaka Khan, the Village People, Diana Ross, and Donna Summers to name a few.  We’re listening Luther Vandross’s 1986 album, “Give me the Reason”  and it instantly brought me back to my childhood.

I grew up in a Victorian mansion.  Did I ever tell you all that?  I did.  It was built in 1903 by an architect I still cannot find online.  The home was beautiful and a truly magical place to live.  Long story short (wait for the memoir) my parents and I moved out of the house in 6th grade.  Almost two decades later they have purchased it again.  There was nothing more magical than me going back to the house of my childhood to babysit my nephews who are growing up in the place that I did.

When I was a girl my parents would host large gatherings of family and friends on the weekend.  My uncles, aunts, and cousins would come.  And those adults who were not related to me by blood but I called “Auntie” and “Uncle” just the same.  The men would work on multiple grills, cooking ribs, chicken, burgers and hot dogs.  There was always enough kool-aide for us kids, and beers for the adults.  The music would billow out from our music room onto our large front porch and we’d dance and sing and play hide and seek while the adults danced, talked, smoked cigarettes and enjoyed life.

One of the songs, I can’t remember the title now, played and I instantly thought of my parents.  They got divorced after twenty-odd years of marriage for about a year.  There were many stresses in their lives, too many for me to understand as their daughter but at the time I was happy my mother was rid of the burden that my father could sometimes bring with his words.  They separated, found their own individual condos, and for a year they were not man a wife.  Until my father came over one night to ask my mother on a date.  They courted, had dates, did the deed while they were dating and one day he popped the question.  Presented my mother with a new ring and asked her to marry him, again.

They’re technically and legally divorced but will be getting married, again, on the same date they did so those many years before I was a thought in their minds.  As much as I don’t understand the things that they do I understand that the underlying emotion must be love.  They are in love with one another because of their faults, their good times and their bad times.  You can’t find it every day and ony a few are lucky enough to experience it.  I feel like I’m one of those lucky ones.

The Islamic Center, You and Me

Muslims pray here


I’ve been reading a lot of the Huffington Post lately, as it is my new-found obsession. I have been commenting obsessively about this crazy “Ground Zero Mosque” charade that’s going on in NYC and across the nation and I’m truly at a loss for words.  

Buddhists Pray Here

What is Mosque any way?  What’s a shul, or synagogue?  What’s a church?  What’s a temple?  Do they make bombs in mosques?  Do they burn babies in synagogues?  Do they worship idols in churches/temples??  Nope.  We pray in them.  They’re houses of prayer.  A place for community, to eat, sing, dance, pray, meditate, enjoy the company of others.  They hold sacred texts, the architecture is often awe-inspiring, They are often beautifully decorated with stained glass, beautiful mosaics, paintings, gilded in gold.   Homes of languages, English, Spanish, Hebrew, Arabic, Sanskrit.  I digress… 

Jews Pray Here

Being a writer, I’m never at a loss of words but the words that I keep coming up with our those of a toddler.  Why?  Any parent of a 2-year-old will tell you that “Why” is one of those words that you try not to teach your child and some how it happens that they learn the singular question and the Pandora’s Box of Why is opened and you never, ever have an answer no matter how hard you try. 

I was a Why Child, my mother tells me.  Everything she said was questioned and the answers she gave were questioned until impatient and exhausted she would retort, “Because, that’s why!”  Jullian, my beautiful 4-year-old nephew, is a Why Child and as events continue to unfold before my eyes and ears I’m remembering that I am, in fact, a Why Child. 

The first I heard of the “Ground Zero Mosque” was at work at 4AM by employees who were giving me a very loose, very ignorant interpretation of what was going on.  Because they were talking in ear shot and they were being bigoted and you know, discrimination in the work place is a no-no I asked them to change their topic of conversation from racist ones to something more appropriate. 

As the weeks go on I can’t help but wonder Why American’s cannot see what they’re doing?  Let’s take a look at History, keeping in mind that I am not a history scholar, nor do I pretend to be. 

We “discover” America.  Never mind the people who’ve lived on the continent for centuries.  We come in, we over power them, we make them into savages, beasts, less-than humans.  We use our fire power to over power them and drive them off the land and now these people live in fractions of land without basic human, American privileges like education, health care, and a sense of belonging.  The entire span of the continent that is North America shrunk into spaces – Reservations we call them.  What are we reserving?  We’ve taken away a way of life, and more than that we’ve taken away a people. 


Next we board ships and cross the Atlantic and rip a people, my people, from their own country.  We strip them of their humanity, their dignity, their identity and shackle them in bowels of ships like cattle.  The unfortunate ones who survive the journey back across the Atlantic are then treated worse than cattle, worse than live stock.  They aren’t given rights because they are property and are treated as such.  Human beings striped of anything human in a society where a family can be broken up and sold, women can be raped, and men can be tortured. 


When my people are given emancipation we’re still second class citizens without the right to own property or vote and to this day a black person walking down the wrong street on the wrong night is not safe. 


 The Next second class citizens, women, are never stripped of rights because we never had them at all.  


 The thing that “marriage supporters” always forget that the purpose of marriage, originally, had nothing to do with religion at all.  It was an exchange of property and goods and ownership, the woman, from one man to another.  The Hebrew Bible is riddled with women being treated no better than slaves.  Lot offers his virgin daughters to the savages of Sodom for goodness sake!    


Women fought for what we believed in and still we make less money, we cannot be ordained as holy people in many faiths, we’re still seen as second class citizens and some men feel that it’s their right or privilege to call out in the streets, grab in the bars… 


Japanese people after the World War, Jews at any time in history.  We’re making it impossible for Mexicans to seek solice in our country when the purpose of our country was to give solice to those who came looking,   “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.  Send these, the homeless, the tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” 


When the twin towers fell I sat watching at home with my family like everyone else.  I remember listening to the broadcasters and thinking to myself when they said “Muslim terrorists” G-d help us.  Some blacks scoffed it off, “now someone else knows what it feels like.”  People spit bigotry and racism freely and very few opposed it.  

When the twin towers fell 16 radical “Islamic” men took the lives of thousands of men, women, children.  Jews, Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Atheists, etc., etc.  Gays, straights, lesbians, queers…Blacks, Whites, Asians, Latinos… 

It was a loss for all Americans including Americans who are Muslims.  The world watched in horror remembering D-Day, The Shoah, A divided Ireland, an oppressed Germany.  Why? 

Why can’t people remember those things?  Why can’t people remember their humanity, their compassion, their love, the fact that at one time we all were “Muslim”, the “other” person, people, sex, gender, race… 

Reading history books in school, whether it be grade school, high school, or college, I remember shaking my head in dismay at the horrors that we humans have wrought upon other humans.  Rereading the Torah I shake my head still.  As a civilization we continue to do this and Why don’t we learn? 

As a Jew, we believe that Moshiach will come when the world is free of all sin, and I’m paraphrasing clearly.  It’s written far more eloquently else where.  Christians also belive that the world will be redeemed when it’s pure and guess what?  Muslims think that, too!!  

How will Moshiach come if we’re acting like savage beasts!?  Why would s/he?  I sure as hell wouldn’t.  G-d promised Noah that he’d never destroy the earth again after the great flood.  Let’s remember that Erika does NOT take the Bible for face value.  One of the reasons I’m embracing Judaism is because it’s encouraged for me to “wrestle” with the Torah.  I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again.  I bet G-d is regretting that promise right about now. 




There’s a Chill in the New York Air…

A Monochromatic look from Madewell

…which can only mean one thing.  FallFashion!!  Augh, I’m excited, I cannot begin to tell you.  I know that this little chill in the air and the ever-increasing crisp nights do not mean that it’s actually fall in NYC, yet.  I’m betting on one more heat wave before it really starts to cool off permanently.  It is, after all, only the 15th of August.  Still, the fact that I had to wear my scarf today for warmth in the subway, rather than for fashion, and that when I emerged from the station I kept it on means sooner than later, it will be fall.

Of course, an apartment with no closets makes shopping and stocking amazing clothes a little bit challenging.  I only very recently purchased plastic tubs to store my off-season garb and I’m still debating on function over fashion in terms of buying those ugly plastic risers so that I can shove more clothing under my bed.  I’ve started pulling my opaque tights out so I can take inventory of them.  Which to throw out (because holey tights aren’t my thing)  which to keep, and which colors I do not need to buy this year (any shade of blue-ish green) and which colors to look out for (acid yellow).

Oh look, it's me!

I’ve taken steps to make the most of my small space, I’m actually thinking of building shelves to put in my bedroom.  And while my kitchen is teeny weeny, it has potential.  It just takes a little bit of creative thinking, some clever Ikea furniture and shelving solutions and it will almost feel like I have a real kitchen and a real closet instead of not. 

Clearly, the storage solutions will happen, it hasn’t in a year but this is the year, I can feel it.  Let’s get to the looks that I’m most excited for this year.  Before I do, a little disclaimer.  I’ve had people ask in the past-Are you butch or are you femme?  How do you identify?  and What’s your style?  Truth be told, I’m not butch or femme and I identify as a gay black Jew (to be)  My style changes with my mood and I’m not a slave to fashion or what’s “in” or “out” I wear what I like. 

This what I’m liking right now.

Anna Pump-The Frye Company

It’s best to start with shoes, don’t you think?  These leather pumps from Frye are so beautiful!  I don’t wear heels (well) and I’m told that these platform-type heels are easier to walk in.  I clearly won’t be getting them because I know I won’t be able to walk in them but they’re so pretty!

Maya Vintage Stud-The Frye Company

These are a little bit more my speed.  I’m a HUGE fan of peep-toe heels, especially in the fall and especially with bright, opaque tights.  These I might actually purchase.

Miranda T Strap-The Frye Company

These are definitely coming to live with me.  More than a peep-toe, I love a T-Strap.  They’re so vintage-looking, practice, and always make a dress or skirt or pair of jeans look amazing.  I have a pair of “vintage” Frye TStraps from 2 fall seasons ago.  They’re beat up but I love them.  And-They’re purple.

The Aberdeen Two-Town Oxford-Madewell

Unless you’ve been living under a rock you may have noticed that Oxfords have come back-in a major way.  As all of you know, I attended an all-girls high school where Oxfords were what we wore so when I saw them make a come back last fall I supported everyone who had them on.  Hell, Mirs has at least 3 styles of Oxfords but I could never bring myself to buy them.  Whenever I tried them on I expected to see a skinny girl in a short plaid skirt, knee high socks, untucked Oxford blouse hanging out of a cardigan sweater.  Believe me, I’ve kept a lot of those school uniform sensibilities.  I love a good cardigan and I’m all for an Oxford shirt but the shoes?  Maybe this year because I love these from Madewell.

The Biker Boot-Madewell

 Boots on the other and?  I can’t get enough of them!  The Biker Boot by Madewell I’m loving but I especially love the cowgirl-esque look of the Frye Boot-I want them both!

The Taylor Pull On-The Frye Company

 Alright, enough shoes and boots-let’s get the the apparel.  Starting with this AMAZING leather jacket from All Saints.  I walked into the store in SoHo about a month ago an started to drool, literally.  Mirs had to hand me a napkin to wipe the spit off my face.  I wanted everything-including the vintage Singer sewing machines all over the shop.  If you’re in NYC and want to look at pretty leather things-go.

Lana Leather Jacket-All Saints

 This pretty layered look comes from my former employer and always love, Anthrpologie.  I’m glad to see that this yellow color is still getting love.  I love the layers, the tights and the simple beauty of this whole look.  Minus the hat-my hair will NEVER. Fit. In. That.

Lovely Layered look from Anthropologie

 Oh, look!  Another Leather Jacket from All Saints.  And this one Is. on. SALE!!  I can’t buy it because I’m trying to save my money and not throw it at $200 jackets but if anyone wants to buy it for my October birthday I’ll need it in a large.  Please and thank you.

Cobra Leather Bomber-All Saints

 What can I say?  I’m a sucker for a knit dress.  Paired with opaque tights and boots.

Another great Anthropologie Look

 It’s so simple.

Can you hair be any awesomer?

Yes, I wrote “awesomer” and I don’t care.  I love this look from Banana Republic. The styling is something I would totally wear myself and the hair?  Shit, why can’t my hair be that big??  I just wish I could see the Jacket on.

There are more looks I’m in love with, that’s for sure, but this is a great start.  I cannot wait for fall!  I’m excited about wearing boots again, and hearing dried leaves crunch under them.  I’m excited about drinking hot coffee and Mexican hot chocolate.  I’m excited to see the leaves change and I’m excited to snuggle on the couch with my lady.

I know that I’ll regret saying it in December but I’m sort of over summr…Bring on Autumn!!

Freegans, genious or idiotic?

I’m going with Idiotic.  Apparently there are a group of folks who call themselves Freegans and they go rifling around through trash at night for free stuff.  Immediately I hear Arrested Development’s song “Mr. Windle” but in that case Mr. Windle, we’re told, was a bum.  These folks are not.  I’m just like any other bargain shopper, especially since my clothing discount no longer exists.  If I had a car I’d travel around the UWS and UES for an amazing mirror or dresser.  I walked through SoHo and to my apartment in BedStuy 5 years ago with a giant poster on poster board that was taller than me and wider than my armspan.  I’m all about a good deal but food?

Yes, Food.  As you know I work for a grocer here in NYC and the Freegans are out every night picking from our trash to find anything from wilted flowers (totally get that) to meat and cheese (no!!)  If it were winter in New York and the trash frozen over I might understand but it’s 90 degrees at midnight and the food that we dispose only goes on the street after hours, which means it’s been sitting in the trash, inside, warm all day just for these people to pick it out and take it home to eat or feed family and friends?

I’m not trying to pass judgement, although I very clearly am but it’s not coming from an entitled place but a place of sincere concern.  I mean, you would purchase expired cheese, meat, milk, or eggs so surely fishing it from the trash isn’t an ideal situation.  Yet, every night as I leave the store exhausted and tired the same group of people, in cars or on bikes, are there opening up the giant black trash bags, digging around until they produce anything from a carton of eggs to peaches.  Any thoughts, readers?  Would you be a freegan?

Ask OhioLezGirl..almost anything

Over the past year I’ve received some interesting e-mails from readers.  Some of them quite offensive that I immediately delete and trash and others quite amusing that I’ve stored away until now.  Enjoy!

Q.  “I really like your hair in your pictures and your vlogs, what product do you use?”

A.  I really like my hair, too!!  I started growing my hair out naturally because getting a relaxer in NYC was really expensive.  I’ve tried about a half dozen products and finally found two products I used together.  Deva Curl for my shampoo and conditioner and Hair Rules for my curls.  You can purchase them at Rickys NYC here in New York or on their websites.

Q.  “Your article “The Top and/or Bottom Phenomenon” was interesting.  Are you a top or a bottom?”

A.  I don’t like labels in general.  Top, Bottom, Butch, Femme.  They work for people but I’m not one of those people.  I think that it’s too limiting for me personally but if you talk to a butch identified top she’d tell you differently.  I’m toppy and bottomy-it depends on our mood.

Q.  “I’m a straight guy but wondered if you had any tips for meeting a woman.”

A.  Oh, straight men.  I always have tips for meeting women but I think the number one thing to remember is to treat all women with respect.  Ogling a woman on the street, in a bar, any where is really unflattering, pretty disrespectful, and quite frankly makes women feel uncomfortable. 

I suppose, too, it depends on the situation.  Meeting a woman at bar wouldn’t be my advice at all.  You’re never going to be able to have good conversation and she thinks you’re just trying to get laid and you’re just trying to get laid.  It sounds really cliché but I find grocery stores the most interesting way to strike up conversation.  You could always try online dating or through friends.

If you’d like to ask me something (respectful and within reason) send me a line at ohiolezgirlinnyc@gmail.com

Is it still called a Quarter Life Crisis if it happens 6 years later?

This is the second post I’ve started with, “I had a quarter-life crisis” but I did!  When I was 25.  I was on the couch in my apartment crying on the phone to my mother rather than going to her house because I didn’t want her to see me in that state of mess.

Fast-Forward to my almost 31st birthday (3 months away) and I think I’m having another one.  I spent the weekend with my cousin who was in from DC and she reported to my mother that I seemed sad.  Apparently, I’m not as good at hiding it then I used to be.  I don’t feel sad, per se, but I’m definitely having an existential thing.  It has a lot to do with wanting to do my passion-Living my life as a Writer (who gets paid) vs. The Real World and I’m not talking about that MTV Social experiment that started the Reality TV phenomenon.

With the help of my girlfriend who is going to be the best therapist on the planet I’ve decided to put it all on paper and working it all out.  It’s been helpful yet completely over whelming at the same time.  I’ve had to take a lot of cleansing breaths lately to try to keep things in check.  I’m not going to regale you my lists of pros, cons, steps to take, etc. but let’s just say that it’s making me realize a lot of things.  Things good and bad but definitely things.  I’ve decided to start a new writing project which I’m actually really excited about.  I’ve also decided to write this project in a note book for the first draft and it feels good to see my hand writing on lined paper again instead of on this computer screen.  Who knows, when I publish the manuscript the first draft could be a collector’s item that big names try to get my grandchildren to sell but instead they loan them out to university museums.

If I read The Secret, I suppose this would be the time when I visualize what I want so that I can get it.  Because I didn’t read the secret but spent about 5 years as a practicing Wiccan I’m sure they just call that a spell.  Spell, Visualization, Prayer, Meditation, Mantra they’re really all the same aren’t they?  They’re putting your mind on one point.  One very important point that you put your mind to in complete and utter concentration.  You put energy into it, you breathe life into it, you see it, feel it, smell it until it manifests itself to you in physical form.  Whether that physical form be career success or a healthier body it all works because you believe that it will.  There’s nothing magickal about it, really, because the true magick is in the person who believes that it’s true.  Some people call that faith.  I suppose it is.