Watch Sujeiry Gonzalez (Love Trips Author) on The Wendy Williams Show!

Be sure to buy a copy of Love Trips: A Collection of Relationship Stumbles. 

 
I’ve been keeping a secret for a month now. The secret that opened up the door to my being on The Wendy Williams Show. In mid January, I received a call from HARPO. That’s right – the Oprah Winfrey production company. I had applied for a reality show pilot with Iyalna Vanzant on OWN in early January after I saw a casting call tweet. I jumped online and created a quick, funny and truthful anecdote about my life as a single woman.

I am a serial dater. A woman who hardly ever has a second date because I’m picky and have a serious nose fetish (love a long bridge!). If it does move on, I’m in a relationship by the third date. The relationship begins quickly and ends just as rapidly. Or I’m stuck with a stalker.

That very day Cynthia Martinez of Fat Girl Escapades also forwarded a tweet from Wendy Williams. The Wendy Williams Show was looking to hook up singles for Valentine’s Day. I saw this as a second opportunity to meet another daytime idol and be on national television to promote my relationship brand and Love Trips: A Collection of Relationship Stumbles.

Flashforward to mid January. I’m on my computer writing my first piece for the Examiner as the New York Modern Love Examiner. My phone rings and I look over the screen. Unknown. I picked up though I rarely do. Something told me it wasn’t my stalker.

“Hello?” I answered, hesitantly.

“Hello, may I please speak with Sujeiry?” The voice responded. She said my name wrong. Surgery. Definitely not my stalker who probably mutters my name in his sleep.

“This is she,” I said, holding my breath.

“Hello! It’s Samantha calling from HARPO!”

My eyes shot out of their sockets. HARPO was calling MEEE?! I thought. I recalled the casting call. Samantha began asking me questions about my dating experiences. She laughed. I rattled on. She pried deeper. I opened up, aware of how television works. They want someone who is vibrant, funny, a little messed up and definitely entertaining.

They wanted me.

For the next week, I spoke to three different producers from HARPO. I created three videos and made plans to film. Suddenly, the show changed directions. They are now looking to work with families.
I wasn’t disappointed. I wanted it, yes, but I knew that the call, the fact that HARPO wanted me, meant something else was brewing. 24 hours later I received a call from The Wendy Williams Show. They wanted me to come into a casting audition. A week later I was in her waiting area. 25 other women surrounded me before we were moved to a conference room. One by one, we answered their questions. Some of us were asked to do a video and others were sent home. It was my turn. I was myself. I dazzled and made the producers and other girls laugh. And I was asked to do a video. A week later, I received the call I knew was coming. They wanted me to be a participant on the Wendy Williams Show dating game airing the week of February 13, 2012.

I jumped for joy, wishing I could do cartwheels like Madonna at the Super Bowl.

So, you see, HARPO may not have worked out but she opened the door to opportunity. I will meet Wendy Williams and will be giving her a copy of my book, Love Trips. I will receive exposure. And maybe I will even win a date with an eligible bachelor. I knew this would happen. I know I have a spark and I am meant for television and radio. Doors are opening and I can’t wait to jump through.

Maybe I’ll even do a cartwheel.

Watch Sujeiry on February 17, 2012 on The Wendy Williams Show! Any tweets during the live show will be appreciated. Use the hashtag #WendyLovesSujeiry. Be sure to buy a copy of Love Trips: A Collection of Relationship Stumbles. 

Love Trips: Booger Loving

When I was younger, I used to take my index finger, stick it in my nostril, give it a little wiggle, and go digging for gold. Once I got a good chunk of hard boogie, I would (brace yourselves) stick it in my mouth, chew and swallow.

All together now…eeeew!

I don’t remember where or why I picked up the yucky habit of picking the green and eating it like it was a Caesar Salad, but I do know I wasn’t willing to give it up. Maybe I felt the need to conquer those hard boogies. They were so uncomfortable and difficult to blow out into a tissue, so perhaps I thought: why not give it a go the caveman way? Soon, I became an addict. I transformed into those scrawny, skinny dudes who will suck your dick for some cash for crack.  Not even all-powerful mami could coerce me to quit.  She tried, dabbing my fingernails in garlic and threatening me with chankletasos, but I was obsessed!  Read more.

Love Trips: Just Can't Cut It

A man can cut a woman off just like that if he is no longer interested. He won’t respond to her texts and voicemails, or respond weeks later as if the only source of communication is Morse code. And forget about going on dates! If a man just isn’t that into you, he will forget he even committed to taking you out for drinks that Saturday night. As you sit by your window watching cars fly by and waiting for that damn phone to ring, he’s ogling girls at a teta bar, or worse; watching TV with his hands in his pants without a care in the world. Read the rest of Love Trips: Just Can't Cut It!

Love Trips: Dodge Kiss

I have never been good at sports. I was the 90-pound girl who was picked last. The girl whose long, bony arms would bruise for days after an instructional volleyball scrimmage. And did I mention I cried for half a period when it was my turn to swing off the second story balcony of The Cage and into the bright yellow cargo net in front of me?

Yeah, sports are definitely not my forte. But even still, I found a way to semi-master the violent art of dodge ball. Ok, I was picked third to last; but still, it was an improvement! I excelled averagely at this active sport because a) little people are feisty, b) little people are fast and c) it was the only way I could hit the girls that annoyed me without getting jumped after school. All was fair in volleyball, much like love and war, and till this day I take my quick, dodging tactics everywhere I go, including first dates. Read more of Love Trips: Dodge Kiss!

Love Trips: My Baby Suitor

If I were an inanimate object, I'd be a coloring book. I'd rest my back on hardwood floors; pages open, waiting to be filled. Suddenly, two sets of elbows pin me down. I meet eye to eye with a sharp, colored pencil and scream, "On guard!" Then there's childlike laughter. I relax a little, knowing they will play with me and love me, even if just for a moment. I will be filled with bright blues, greens and reds, even if it’s outside the line. Because you can't expect much from children. Read more of Love Trips: My Baby Suitor.

Love Trips: No More Tears

I don't remember crying as a teenager. I don't remember a time when teardrops streamed down my cheeks. I didn't cry at graduation or even when I left home for college. The sadness was indeed felt, as was the moisture in my eyes, but I produced nada.

Then I met Kurt. I fell in lust with Kurt and was convinced he was it. This bad boy on campus didn't want anything serious with me. I was a virgin - an innocent little, skinny girl lacking in the ass and boobs department. At least, that’s what he’ d say. But I was still convinced he was it. So I wrote him a letter. Pen to paper, I scribbled down my feelings frantically and repeatedly. The words in cursive revealed I wanted him to be my first, and with that realization I sobbed. Read more of Love Trips: No More Tears.

Love Trips: Bad Girl?

I've never been the bad girl, the sucia, the sneaky sneak, the master manipulator, la otra. That chica who scoots down in the leathery seat of a cab as she does a quick peep-my-man drive-by. He flinches when a girl struts past and there she goes! Cab door swings open and she is flying. Up, up and away into the air like a possessed, badass villain or - depending on whom you're speaking to - a glorious, female superhero. And how about the female who answers her phone while her hips are in motion? She swerves on top of a naked man who isn’t her man and, just like that, whispers, “I love you” to her real man through the phone.

No. Definitely not me. Read more of Love Trips: Bad Girl?