Lola and the Rolling Stone

Prologue

Prologue

When I was younger I would sit in the dinning room doing my middle school homework while my older, college aged sister Solead and her friends would watch Sex and the City. I hapzadarzly completed my homework, all while listening to Carrie and her friends talk about their love life. Did I learn a bit too much for a 12 year old? I probably did. But, watching Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte made me realize what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to travel around the world, just me, a notebook and a starbucks cup.

I did high school newspaper, journalism, debate and everything that involved writing. I buried myself in notebooks and stories and investigating. Growing up in suburban Connecticut New York City was not far away. We went on weekends, we saw Broadway shows and even took a day off here and there for Fashion Week, parades and other things others in the United States would only watch on TV. I leveraged my desire to be Carrie Bradshaw into a scholarship to NYU where I majored in Journalism and minored in Cinematic studies. The second I stepped into the NYU News office I knew where I belonged. It was everything. The sounds, the smells, the people. I was home. It was 2007. It was the dawn of twitter and social media. Talking over things with the faculty and all the other members of the paper, we decided to join Twitter. And facebook (even though that was a rough switch from the original purpose of facebook, that's neither here nor there). I was writing in the beauty and style section my junior year. It wasn't love and it' wasn't advice that Carrie Bradshaw would give, but it was everything. Just like I said before. Everything. And it was perfect. I started blogging and tweeting and connecting. I was @Lolalox. Lola Lox was pretty, fashionable, influential, sarcastic, witty and single.

2008 came, I graduated. I signed contracts for Huffington Post, NY Post and a few small local fashion magazines. Still, though, I wasn't making enough money to live in that swanky Carrie Bradshaw apartment. I was cramped in a two bedroom apartment with my three best friends, Lacie, Madelyn and Bianca.

Things didn't change much between 2008 and 2015. Lacie, Madelyn, Bianca and I moved several different times and went through several different relationships. Bianca was so close to getting married once that we cried and ate ice cream and watched movies as we packed boxes. And then, the bastard cheated on her during a business trip. And there we were again, all four of us, the 2015 version of Sex and the City; me, attempting to be Carrie, Lacie hoeing it up like Samantha, Bianca trying to find her Steve and Madelyn searching for her perfect man at galas and charity events.

**

You know my story. There's really not a lot to say. I try to keep things on the DL. Shit, you didn't even know that Isabela and I broke up months ago. I guess I'm good like that. Anyway. I need a break. A fucking break. I need to take a two year nap. But, maybe I need to get laid every once in a while too. Don't you think?