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After a recent West Hollywood trip that went awry, and looked more like a scene from MTV’s Jersey Shore, I’ve been trying to keep it less club happy and more late-night low-key. Why anyone would want to fake tan enough to resemble an oompa loompa is beyond me, but then again, I’m so pale I could be a member of the famed fangtastic Cullen clan. It’s one thing to go and have a good time, but it’s quite another to go out and not remember if you had a good time, what you may or may not have said to cause your friend to stop talking to you, and if you do or do not need to get a prescription for Plan B today. If that’s what you’re looking for, just set your DVR to watch the next episode of “what not to do when out,” care of the east coast kids who should be auditioning for the next Axe Hair Crisis Relief commercial. Hollyweird is simply a cesspool for drunken debauchery, and tres fun in moderation, but only to find Mr. Right Now, not Mr. Right. So pack up that wristlet for a night on the town with caution, because True Life: I need a nice dude is not in the works just yet (but should be). So maintain your manners while walking the boulevard and kick the California calorie count to the curb prior to pre-gaming those cocktails, before you end up on the next episode of Intervention. See you over the hill again soon. The aforementioned rules and restrictions applicable to all 364 nights a year except the Schmooz-A-Palooza, because whatever happens on Sunset stays there…Santa’s too busy to tell on us.

Sometimes you go on a date and the only thing you can count on is Murphy’s Law. Recently, I went out with this guy who not only showed up a half hour late (like he’s never heard, ‘don’t be tardy for the party’) and looked like he just rolled out of bed. I was so sorry to interrupt his date with his bed for ours, but hello, he asked me out. So, trying to ignore the urge to say, ‘Hi the ‘90s called, they want their outfit back,’ I decided to move past everything and continue on. Well to add to Prince Charming’s attributes, he asked if we could “join forces” when the bill came – taking going Dutch to a whole new level of awkward. So just to recap my gem of an evening, he showed up late in last decade’s clothes and then used some sort of Star Wars reference to have me pay half the bill. Now kids, I am in no way suggesting it is a guy’s responsibility to pay, it was just one ridiculously obnoxious night. To seal the fate that was my date, when walking to my car, he cleverly hid a little X-rated request behind a PG suggestion: “Want to come over and play board games?” Well, Milton and Bradley would not be so lucky. I headed to my car, thanked him for an utterly fabulous evening out on the town, and remembered why dating rocks, because now I have one hell of a story. Begging the question, “Why don’t they do what they say, say what they mean? One thing leads to another.”

‘Tis the season for friends, food and a whole lot of calories. In between the gift hunting, mall madness, and general holiday stress – the party of the year is fast approaching! Christmas Eve used to mean Chinese food and movies, but thanks to 100hookup, we’ve revamped that jaded idea into an excuse to stay out ‘til dawn enjoying those Hollywood nights. So instead of stressing over what to do – obviously there’s only one right choice and clearly no excuses, seeing as no one has work the next day – head to the House of Blues on Sunset for a little holiday debauchery and some sub-zero scandal! What I like the best is this event’s innate ability to reintroduce you to people you haven’t seen in years, forgot existed, and look fabulous at the same time. Think of it as a hookup ten-year reunion stocked with cocktails and couture. So when the lines get blurred between a little naughty and oh-so-nice, remember, what happens on Sunset always stays there!

I’d like to talk about the resurgence of a dating trend that’s most likely been on hiatus since your high school days: the group date. I recently went on one, and let me tell you, it was beyond fun. The thing about the group date is that a populated dinner table allows for minimal awkward silences. In addition, you get to see how said date interacts with other people, and then how he interacts with you. Some might call this a test; I call it research. So the next time you’re working up to a little one-on-one sexperience with your current crush, remember that taking it slow à la your high school days isn’t such a terrible idea. Besides, the cross table yelling allows for a lot of laughter, like a drunken game of telephone complete with an end of the night kiss, or any other type of flirtatious embrace. Bon Appetit!

So, there comes a point when you look at your phone contacts and the address book no longer holds names, it holds the establishments of just where in the world exactly it is that you’ve met this Prince Charming of the moment. That girls, is when you delete like half of your little black book concealed cleverly on your blackberry and opt to start fresh, say, with a night out on Sunset with your faves. This excursion is always nothing short of entertaining, and considering the characters one is likely to encounter on the strip, it’s always a trick, and a treat. So after hiking from one end to the other, which is nothing short of miraculous in heels, might I add, four fabulous girls find themselves at Saddle Ranch. I apparently did not get the memo that since I had last been they’ve revamped the classy establishment into frat pack headquarters. So since these dudes are a dime a dozen, it’s safe to say anything goes. Anything includes this darling opening line I came up with: “So, you look like my ex’s little brother – do you have a brother?” Surprisingly, or considering where I was – perhaps not so – this charming little conversation sparker ignited an entire conversation of witty banter I couldn’t see coming if it was graffiti’d in front of my face. So, aside from the predictable exchange of info on the blackberry, it was nothing short of an entertaining night. Plus, a girl always needs to find new recruits before it’s been so long she needs to Wikipedia her way through a kiss, starting with GPS instructions to his lips. Happy hunting.

There’s always been an incredibly fine line between friends and more than just friends with the opposite sex. So what do you in an effort to soothe a friend recovering from a less-than-smooth-sailing voyage into bad break-up territory? When your favorite friend is in danger of retiring from the game too quickly, can you sexercise said sweetheart in an effort to resurrect them from post-traumatic break-up disorder? Everyone always said a little extra love and care goes a long way but when the embrace goes from innocent to intense before you have a chance to draw the line, does that erase the former friendship forever or make the bond with a bff stronger? So far, I’ve heard that sexercising the babe back from the land of the dead is mainly mandatory in terms the hopes of saving his sanity. The party consisting of the fairer sex is the one deserving of a little second thought since she/male relations tend to hold more emotional baggage for a miss rather than a monsieur. My suggestion? Make damn sure he’s worth a little scandal so that when the convo goes from a text to a sextversation, your friendship doesn’t get deleted along with years (and an entire inbox) worth of history.

When temps in Los Scandolous drop low enough to actually make wearing a hoody a necessity more than a hipster fashion statement, you know winter has finally entered the City of (often fallen) Angels. So after the post-turkey tryptophan fest 2009, how does a single girl in the big city survive holiday hell? Simple, she bands together with her beautiful bffs and ceases the quest for the perfect mid-frost fling. Instead, she’ll trade in the dinner-and-a-movie deal for the even more tempting date with her dolls, and enjoy the gift that keeps on giving.  Let’s face it, more often than not, your girls are better equipped to handle the various spectrum of emotions capable of gal on the go, more so than any boy is able to grasp. So for one entire month ignore the dude that acts empathetic to your one of many different moods and don’t let the too-tempting snake charm his way into your heart (and pants). If he’s truly just that into you, he’ll wait for oh-ten. Until then, enjoy a little quality time with the ones that stick by you a total of twelve months throughout the year, instead of the one whose expiration date lasts less than thirty twenty-four hour rounds.

‘Tis the season for a little sub-zero scandal. So when (HEL)L. A. freezes over and what’s left of the summer bronze is traded in for a little fake and bake, you know it’s time to start prepping for the winter weather ahead. Summer induces a little overdose on beachfront bars and Caribbean cocktails, so this season, make sure the only umbrella accompanying you is to keep you high and dry, and not inside of your drink! Trade in the Venice-style rollerblades and kick them to the curb. Instead, opt for a little oceanside skating at one of the various impromptu ice rinks popping up all over this city sinfully lacking in northern culture. If the Icecapades aren’t exactly your idea of a good time, you can head from surf to slopes in under three hours to trade in your bunny from beach to snow. If the scandalous little snowbunny in you snags a snowhunny, there’s no better first date than a trip (and possible fall) down the runs to break the ice! I’m a huge fan of any season that’s couture calls for a little more left to the imagination and a little less of the painfully obvious. So even though skin is always in, conceal that birthday suit in an ever enticing ensemble – it always makes the unwrapping more of a treat later! Stay tuned for more places to turn the heat up, because baby, it’s cold outside! (Yes, even in L.A.)

I rarely get excited for events of any sort of religious nature, but the Schmooz-A-Palooza is coming up around the corner and is always an exception. Rather than a mixer where one goes to meet Mr. Right, she goes to meet and greet Mr. (or Misses!) Right Now, in a low-key, no pressure type of setting. The three floors filled with scandalously-clad kids allow for absolutely no boredom, and an endless array of active options. More or less, this night (unlike all other nights) serves as one giant reunion, and in addition to meeting people of a newer nature, ghosts from friends past, present, and future come from The Valley and the Westside to join in the festivities of a party so grand it takes an entire year to put together. So rather than stuff stockings and wait for the obese jolly man who could certainly use a fat flush stat, get to the party that everyone else and their mother will be at. More than likely you have work off the next day anyway and you never need an excuse to let loose on the famed sunset strip.

Nothing is more awkward than the dreaded friend of the family set-up. As if dating wasn’t irritating enough, now you have various members of the peanut gallery suggesting future flings for you! So what do you do? Appease them, and spend at least an hour of your life wishing you were anywhere but here? I guess that hour beats an entire week of guilt tripping cate of every member of your family. But, to the rebellious hookup princess that more often than not dates everyone she shouldn’t, what exactly do you have to lose? In fact, one of these set ups may surprise you, and you could wind up with, dare I even suggest it, someone your mother would approve of! I know, that in and of itself is not exactly a turn-on, but not having to listen to fifty-five members of your family bitch at you about the sitch is reason enough. So give up an hour and you may be pleasantly surprised. You can always come up with some form of domestic emergency later if things don’t work out- like your cat decided to play in traffic, or the cupcakes you don’t even know how to cook up are burning and now your house is on fire. Just be creative, you don’t want him to know you’re ditching him to head home for a better date with your DVR.