What am I looking for? Ahhh yes…my license, my cell phone and my head, for that matter. Getting to the airport two hours before hand just to dispose of my newly purchased lip gloss and board a plane was EXACTLY what I wanted to do at 5AM Monday morning (dripping in sarcasm). Yet, I board and kindly look around at my new friends I’ll be spending the next 5 hours with.

5 hours, 2 movies, and one life long story (compliments of the cute Filipino couple next to me) and we land in Sunny California. Over the loudspeaker I hear, “The weather is 77 degrees this bright and beautiful morning in LA. Welcome and enjoy your stay.” I think, “Thank you. I will,” and smile.

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Last night I was forced, against my will, to join my good friend, Halle, to what she pitched to me was a ‘networking event’ downtown. As level headed as I am I could not possibly pass up an opportunity to network with a new crowd. The scene was to take place as Soho 323 just across from the Soho Grand, and for the occasion I put on my downtown business trendy attire.

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One of my mottos as a full-fledged Glamourite girl is “If you’ve got nothing to do and nowhere to go, follow the free booze.” That’s exactly what I did last Thursday and to my surprise I found myself at an invite only Coors Light event.

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I must admit, flouncing down to West Chelsea, a.k.a. Bridge & Tunnel Hell, is not my ideal Thursday evening. Like any tried and true New York scenester, I’ve had months when the cab-infested MePa extension has pulled me in like flint to a magnet; my only requirement in such cases is a free (strong) drink. Nonetheless, when international hipster friends come a-callin’ in NYC, li’l Lo answers.

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This past weekend nothing too crazy was going down so I pulled in some reinforcements. Scott Maldonado throws hot parties practically every night in Manhattan. On this particular night the place to be was AER. Though AER has had black and white mixed reviews I decided to go - considering most of my past experiences there were pleasant. When I arrived in the Meat Packing District there were more people out than I’ve seen all summer. Apparently everyone was looking for somewhere to go. AER had a mob outside, a fairly normal looking crowd - not an overwhelming amount of greasy Staten Island men or 16 year old girls.

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The Brazilian Girls showed up to play a private show for 474 people at the Canal Room on July 25 at 8PM. I worked the door for the first hour and witnessed human nature at it’s very finest and very worst. I was astonished at what people would actually say and do to get in. One woman complimented my shoes, told me her name and stepped back as I looked over the list. I politely told her that her name was nowhere to be found. She then proceeded to tell me that she owned half of Manhattan, including the club and sidewalk I had been stepping on with my new shoes. She started screaming at the bouncers, telling them she’d have their jobs if this wasn’t fixed immediately.

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