At 11:48 p.m. I lay on my floor too tired to shower, too dirty to sit on my furniture. My phone vibed, then chimed just out of my reach. I am a slave to my phone so even though I really don’t want to, I know that I will… I rolled across the floor, palmed it, then read:

“What is your truth in reality?”

I cursed. Don’t you just hate people that don’t realize when it’s too late be philosophical? I tossed the phone to the side and then threw my hands behind my head so I could go blank while my sweat dried. A moment later my tiny black master was demanding my attention once again. A simple “…???” was all he wrote. I smiled this time because I must admit I dig his persistence in every way: I read the question again and then meditated on it for a long while. We all know that we learn something new everyday but how often do we acknowledge our findings? This question was the most important thing that anyone had asked me all week. I realized in that moment that not only can epiphanies come in the 11th hour, but also that this is when they should be pursued. Think about it, can you imagine your progression if at the end of every day, you took just five minutes to reflect before honestly and thoroughly answering this question:

What did your experiences teach you today? What truth did you discover in your reality?

I realized in that moment that there was nothing that I did this week that I could not have been doing last year. I am so glad that this question came on a Sunday because out of the 7, it is in the most dire need of a reality check. My Sundays consist of me waking up at 9, shooting headshots until 11, leaving to work at my Joe job from 12-5, and then heading to Day and Night to shoot from 7:30 to 11:00 p.m. It is a busy day filled with the things that sustain me, not one activity that challenges or furthers me. (more…)

On any given day you are likely to: see the one who adores you, dream of the one who ignores you, beg attention from the person who dismisses you and walk by the lost love who misses you.

Photography by Shannon T Boodram

The foot on the pavement is supremely jealous of the one tucked in the shelter of the car. She teeters a bit and jingles her keys, he reaches out and grabs her hand. There is something in his eyes that she does not like, strangely enough the best way to describe the expression is hopeful. Like the look you might give to your losing team on game 7 of the NBA finals. It is not the way that any woman wants to be looked at. Furthermore, his eyes are far too awake for 2 in the morning and that sloppy grin that favours one side makes her feel terrible. She is hurting him, she knows this and he knows that.

“You are always so busy, finally we get some time together,” he looks at her a little harder and brings her hand up to his cheek. She wonders if he is oblivious to the expression in her eyes or simply persistent in spite of it. “You are so pretty…”

He leans in towards her with his forhead leading the way, then pauses for her 20% and when in that nanosecond she does not budge, he moves all the way in anyway. The kiss is weird, it is more like he leans his lips up against hers and rests there for a second than an actual connect. Somewhere on the other side of the parking lot she hears claps and whoots, she is too exhausted to look around so instead she climbs in the car and allows him to kiss her cheek through the open window.

Later that night he will send her text after text but she will have “fallen asleep” and will not respond until late tomorrow. (more…)

“Baby girl we gon need some protection
Because I am about to blast you with this here errection”

There has never been a time in my life where I wished more for the ability to blast people with projectile vomit on command. It was not just the lyrics of this performance that disturbed me, it was the fact that they thought it would be a real crowd winner to have a boy under 10 join them onstage to dance to this foolishness. And also it was also the audacity of this group to begin this ditty with the following introduction:

This next song is for the ladies…

Really? The ladies who swing from poles and have fruit for a last names perhaps but this damn well is not for me or any lady I know. I hosted a show last night and though there were many bright spots of the night, majority of the performers in this showcase were rappers and I must say that 90 percent of them offended me as a woman and as a person with functioning ears.

You guys sucked, and I do not care if that is rude because I am only returning the favour. Of all the fun and clever lines of the night (like rhyming yo with hydro OR penis and You-gotta-see-this) the only punchline that I walked out reciting was: Rap is freakin crap! (more…)

Nothing has made me feel more insecure about my financial position like having a nephew. A baby needs love and needs to be provided for. It makes me feel terrible that I am not able to make bigger contributions to  my nephew’s life in the ladder portion of what he requires.

I did not buy my nephew a Christmas gift this year and last year I missed out on splurging for my cousin Alana’s birthday because during those times, cash was tight. These are two people whom I want to give the world, so those two facts have weighed heavily on my mind. I do not like the fact that the career path I have now has me living large one month and then counting pennies the next. Making sure I never miss an opportunity to spend on the people I love most is what motivates me.

Last year I would have told you straight-face and convicted, that I have never been a money conscious person and that I am more likely to fantasize about biking downhill than swimming in a pool of gold… Yes last year this was the case but within the last twelve months something has changed in me: of late I find myself thinking a lot more about wealth and how to acquire more of it.

I want money but not so that I can tip exuberant amounts on overly priced meals or so that I can buy rounds of alcohol for perfect strangers; I want it so that one day I will be the person that every one in my family can depend on. Cash, so that I can be the bread winner to my small circle and notoriety, so that I can make a difference in a large population of people, is what motivates me, what motivates you?

(more…)

How many situations do you encounter per day where the worst runs through your head?

You could be walking down the street and yanked through an open doorway to then be subject to unimaginable terrors. You could post a picture online of you infront of your house only for some wacko to pin point your location and stalk you. You could even be lured away from a group of friends into a premeditated trap… you could have your identity stolen by a hacker… you could have s pill slipped into your drink… you could share your best idea on Facebook only for it to be stolen by someone else.

We live in a world of infinite dangers but how much do these dangers affect how you live in this world? As someone who honestly has never been crossed or burned by a complete stranger I can admit that I might live my life with a naive trust and as a result I tend not to understand people who allow fear of the potential to outweigh the thrill of just living.

I am not oblivious to what could go wrong, like you, when I am alone in the shower I pull back the curtain every few minutes to see if that sound came from my stereo or front door but I am also the kind of person to ride my bike at 3am downtown or to sleep with my patio door open. Sure I lock doors and walk with my keys woven in between my knuckles but if it’s a nice night, to hell with it I’m walking home rather than calling a cab.

“I also do photography Shannon but I don’t post on Facebook or blogs because others will probably steal my work.” Really? The last time I checked the Internet was bursting at the seams with people who like to point and shoot so why would anybody care to steal our work, and if by chance they did take try to pass it off as their own…. wouldn’t you be thankful that more people got to experience your art?

I think I have good instincts or perhaps just great luck but all in all I can say that fear does not govern the way I live my life. I was having this conversation with a friend today, it began with a simple question: are you generally a trusting person who is aware of the risks around you or are you a mistrustful person who avoids risky situations at all costs?

Yesterday I shared my new book idea with you and if you Googled me you could find my phone number online – I would say that I am trusting person who is aware of the risks.

But I am curious about you all, how worried are you about personal safety, identity theft and being burned because you were naive enough to believe in common decency? Just a few questions answer if you have time please:

1) Are you generally a trusting person who is aware of the risks around you or are you a mistrustful person who avoids risky situations at all costs?
2) Have you ever been attacked by a complete stranger? What were the circumstances?
3) Have you ever had someone take information about you online and misuse it?
4) Have you ever had any of your intellectual property stolen?
5) Have you ever been a victim of identity theft?
6) Do you avoid being alone in public at all costs?
7) Do you screen who you add to Facebook or who reads your blog, Twitter, etc.. If so why?
When are you most likely to put your safety net up?
9) What do you think the dangers of being too trustful are?
10) How do you think being too cautious can actually hinder your lifestyle?

I watched the G20 madness yesterday from the safety of my couch and then spoke to a friend late last night after the heat from the burning vehicles had cooled. When she quizzed me on why I wasn’t in the city with my camera pressed to my cheek I told her that I liked my life. I’m not THAT trusting to thrust myself in the heat of a battlefield with a nothing is going to happen to ME attitude…. I guess everyone has their limits

Have you ever spent days/ weeks doing nothing all because you were semi-depressed about how little you have done of late?

When every day is Sunday, you don’t feel worthy of rest but at the same time you don’t feel like doing anything productive either. If you’ve experienced it you’ll understand what I mean but if you haven’t you will probably respond with something like: I wish I had a problem like that! I’m too busy to sitdown let alone wallow in limbo… and that’s cool and all to but then in that case, this post isn’t for you.

I spent weeks waking up to a car driving by, a lawn mower powering up or the sound of school kids coming home for lunch… Rolling over to four digits on the clock is an icky way to start your day but a tricky habit to break. You get out of bed, do the morning routine and then find yourself sitting right back on your unmade mattress with a hollow now what on your face. I felt anxious a lot during these weeks to, butterflies spinning in aimless circles in the pit of my stomach, kind of anxious. It’s not as if there isn’t things to do, I could easily make a full time job out of managing myself but there is something kind of unfulfilling about endless days of pitching and hustling yourself alone (maybe this is a sign that I am not a true entrepreneur).

I spent a lot of my time during these weeks reflecting: what did I want, where did I fit, who could I work for, what should I be working at? The answers were clear but all of my key goals and plans were huge gambles, meaning I could spend months on them and in the end my efforts could take me no further than where I sat today. That ish is scary as hell! (more…)

Photos by Shannon T. Boodram

Racoon-eyed and frizzy haired, wiry glasses that sit lopsided on my oily nose

Unsightly hair that I am too lazy to mind
A potty mouth and run-on speech, a stubborn girl who don’t practice what she preach
On the curb without that appeal, we both know he didn’t see it how you do
I knew your heart for months but I didn’t understand until yesterday
No. Until the other day, you read that book just to feel closer to me, hoping to see the world as I do
That ish meant something
It feels so good to know that someone loves me like that
So much that they would read a strangers words if it could mean getting closer to my centre
You don’t have to say it, I feel it all around me – a feeling I have never imagined let alone been given
Thank you for loving me this way, it’s beautiful and perfect
Believe me, I do want to pay you back but it’s just that, my heart doesn’t know how to do favours

The last time I experienced love, I wasn’t involved. I sat on its edge with my pants rolled up and kicked at it without intention to go any further. Is it wrong that I indulged in the joy of it but when push came to shove I got up quickly signaling at my clothes as if to say “it’s not like you couldn’t tell that I didn’t want to come all the way in.”

Does it make you a tease to want to let something beautiful run its course although deep down you knew you were never quite on track with it? It’s hard to understand why we feel so strongly towards some while our affections confusingly skip over others more deserving. And since feelings are so whimsical, fickle and unpredictable should their input really be considered in such serious matters?

Attraction and logic: what is the correlation? I wonder if the happiest individuals are the ones who combine the two rather than prying them apart for quarantined analyzation.

The heart will not go where it is asked but it has no qualms showing up where it is uninvited – I wonder who programmed this stupid thing. Attraction is a wild card suffering from schizophrenia  and logic is the most sobering, sane-saving tool we own… so with this in mind I wonder: can or should love be rationalized?

short and bitter (sweet?) I know. Isn’t it odd that sometimes the more we have on our minds, the least we feel comfortable saying? Would it shock you to learn that this wasn’t even written in reference to a romantic relationship?

Wanna smile? Some kids 4-8 years old define love (more…)

Your first idea is rarely your best so try not to get attached to your own self-titled brilliance.

I made this quote up after my dad gave my latest book idea a “meh.” I had spent 3 days working and typing, stewing in my own awesomeness, until his second opinion woke me out of my stupor – the idea I had was really just aiight. After that I decided to research how I could use my time more wisely. Instead of getting to work on each initial thought, I was going to focus on fleshing out good ideas. I want to make IT big (it being the idea). So the image above is not a kitschy scrapbook exercise, it is my new square one. I know it isn’t much to look at but would you believe me if I told you it took over an hour? I started by writing down words that reflected what I would like my second book to be. I included adjectives, audiences, goals and topics then I tried to place the words that were most important to me closest to the middle.

Trying to come up with  a good second book, when the first was based on personal experience, is hella hard (don’t believe me? Ask Koren Zalickas who wrote SMASHED, a tell-all tale of drunken girlhood. Her first book was a huge success, so much so that for the next five years she had no clue how to follow it up. Fittingly her second book due out this fall is called Fury, which chronicles the years of writers block after SMASHED). Secondly, what makes things more difficult  for me is that I do not want this book to be called LAID II: Because the Second Round Is Always Better or something cheesy like that. As a matter of fact I do not want the book to be a sex book at all! I think sexuality is very important but I don’t really consider myself a very sexual person therefore making a career solely based on banging headboards, doesn’t really sound like my cup of tea. When I began LAID at age 19, debunking myths and shedding light on the real young adult sexual experience was extremely important to me and it also so happened to be a great book idea. I want to have the same unapologetic enthusiasm for my second.

So off I go in hunt of that great idea that covers what I am now truly passionate about. I think a mistake many of us make when trying to brainstorm is that we expect our imaginations to do all of the work. Don’t just sit there starring at the blinking cursor waiting for the light bulb, get off your ass and make some electricity.

Here are some ways I intend to make sure my next idea is the BIG idea (more…)

What do people usually do on weekends? They invite their friends over to chill… and that is exactly what we’re doing up in this www! Introducing GUEST BLOGGER SATURDAYS!

After collecting many of the blog sites from those who frequent ThoseGirlsAreWild.com we’ve realized how lucky we are to attract such an entertaining bunch of readers. Why not collab with some so we can introduce you all to new voices that we think you might like.

So each and every Saturday we are looking for someone to create a post that we can share on our site. In your post you are welcome to plug yourself, exhibit your work or promote a friend but we do need it to have a lil something extra as well…

If you’ve come to our site before then you know our format and we’d like to stick to that so no “Hot Car Model Features” or “Look at how cute My Dog Is” type posts. Here are a few ideas for posts:

1. Write about something that you think others need to hear
2. Do a video with your friends that will have us dying of laughter
3. Share a tip with our readers that you think will help make life easier
4. Take something popular and tell us why it’s WILD or why you’re not too wild about it

Basically take what you already do on your blog and just up the WILD factor a lil, then submit to us so we can post! It can even be something that you’ve already made.

If you’re interested in being a guest blogger on a Saturday please e-mail us at ThoseGirlsAreWild(at)gmail.com then tell us your idea. We will write you back and let you know which Saturday is yours.

Looking forward to a bloggin witcha!

xo,
Those Girls (more…)

On Sunset Boulevard the men’s heads are locked downwards on their patent leather shoes and the ladies take fast, small steps in their skirts without leggings. I think I am the only one who looks up and notices the big Drake poster. The thing is friggin huge and it looks incredibly green to me (in every literal and pun connotation you can imagine). I take time to stop and look at it because where I am heading, I have no appointment.

I am not on this street for business or pleasure, I’m there out of sheer audacity. After seeing Jamie Foxx on The View talk about sex and his daughter, my mother got the idea that I should send my book LAID to his office in hopes that he reads it then chooses to pass it on to his not-so-little-anymore girl. I look down at my envelope (crumpled in the oddest places after years(?) of being behind Andrea’s TV) and feel confident that my package has a chance to reach the Oscar/ Grammy winners hands because of one name: (from) Shannon Boodram (address) Toronto Canada.

Can you guess which name I am certain will catch the megastars eye? Well let’s play out the conversation:

“Who the hell is Shannon Boodram?” says Foxx as he kicks my packaged book out of the eighth floor window.
“Toronto, Canada? Isn’t that where Drake is from?” says Foxx as he drops my package back onto his desk…

And this, my friends, is my newfound confidence care of the Drizzy Drake effect… (more…)

photography by Shannon Boodram

If it isn’t your boyfriend/ girlfriend and you are sexually active with someone, please feel free to choose one of the titles to describe your relations: Casual Sex, Hooking Up, F___ Buddies. Point blank dears it isn’t “complicated” or “different” it just simply is what it is.

This post is really in anticipation for Teen Vogue writer and author Rachel Simmons, who will be featured here in our first “Wild Girl Exposed” post within the next week. On her blog she wrote a very controversial post, “Why The Hookup Culture is Hurting Girls” The article sparked rebuttals from several blogs and a lengthy conversation from hundreds of women. So I figured we would continue things here, to see what your take on this is.

I genuinely have mixed feelings on the new sexual revolution where it’s okay to put the body first and feelings second. The story above (sorry guys I had to take this out for the repost) is something I wrote about a teenage sexual relationship that I had with an ex-boyfriend whom I desperately wanted to take me back. Knowing that I was giving up my body in hopes of getting someone else’s heart should make the scenario pretty clear to you so don’t feel bad for me because real talk I was on a big time dummy ride.

To anyone whom has ever read my book LAID, my feelings on no-strings-attached sex should not be a mystery to anyone. Most famously I described hooking up as the microwave burrito of sex – a quick fix to your hunger that often seems like a decent idea at the time but later has you questioning if you were really that damn hungry. But today I’ll avoid punchy one-liners to try to really get into the meat of this topic. (more…)

I think we look good together: his skin is a little browner and his hair is closer to midnight with curls too tight even for my pinky finger. The first time I saw him I stared for a long time before – to my horror – my cousin PJ stood right beside him and yelled back at me, “Is this the guy you’ve been gawking at all night? Look I’m standing right beside him and it turns out he doesn’t bite.”

Tail between my legs I dragged my feet over, encouraged by his pleasant, not awkward, laugh. We exchanged numbers, the first time in a long time I had done that. Who would have thought that a few months later we would slow-fade because I had lost interest. I played fair though; we never kissed, I never let him pay- so I thought when we both walked in different directions neither of us felt a way. I pictured our feelings still neatly packed in swanky-square luggages without a wrinkle or loose sock in sight. However, when I saw him just a couple of weeks ago I realized how wrong I was.

“Shannon where have you been?” He pulled me close whispered about old times I had genuinely forgotten, drilled me on why his number wasn’t in my phone, tended to me for the night and hugged me a little too long at the end.

I walked away, retrieved my jacket from coat check, then dug in it’s pockets for my cell to see what I had missed. My welcome screen lit up with a shrug: Sorry Shannon, all’s been quiet on this front. A certain He hadn’t called or text – just like He hadn’t called or text in the past three weeks.

I walked to my car solo and it hits me: All is fair in love and heartbreak. While you are praying a certain someone would call, somewhere else a certain someone else is wishing you would call them. This shit is fair, I’m telling you that! It’s so friggin fair, it’s irritating. (more…)