I have a new blog. It should be fun. I might ask you to contribute!!!
https://mrniceguyfromhell.wordpress.com/
Hope you enjoy!!!
Mr. Nice Guy From Hell
18 Jan 2013 Leave a Comment
in Love Tags: dates, dating, hell, men, nice guy, women
The Thirst
06 Jan 2013 2 Comments
in Random musings of a foolish woman Tags: dating, love, men, persistence, relationships, stalking, thirst, women
Are you thirsty? Not for water, for an individual for whom you think you might have a romantic connection. I keep reading tweets from men who claim that showing a woman interest doesn’t equal thirst and that these women just aren’t used to a man treating them well…which is a hot, steaming pile of horseshit because A) I’ve fallen victim to The Thirst and B) I am well aware of how to be treated by a man…that I’m interested in. Unwanted romantic advances fall into three categories: Persistence, Thirst, and Stalking. (Keep in mind, it is only considered annoying if you’re not interested in the individual; otherwise, it’s normal courting.)
Persistence Back in August, I received a message in my inbox on Facebook from a guy I went to high school with. I didn’t know him then, still don’t know him now, but he had been liking and commenting on quite a few posts and pictures. This means absolutely nothing…or it means absolutely EVERYTHING!! Turns out, the gentleman wanted to date me. He never outright said “I’d like to take you out on a date.” Instead, he relied on the persistence method, also known as the Steve Urkel I’m Wearing You Down approach. This rarely works.
No. For the love of God, NO!!! That shit is not endearing, it’s called pre-stalking. This man had the nerve to say stalking was subjective…and then I knew precisely why men make statements like, “You just don’t know it feels to have a real man treat you good.” If the response to your persistence are one word answers and you never seem to quite make any ground with the object of your affection, chances are this person is trying not to reject advances you’re too chicken shit to make. The man who thought persistence was the key to my heart sent this final message on New Year’s Day:
I really would have liked to have had a chance to get to know you. No disrespect, I know you’re attached now, but I hope you’ll keep my application on file should the future husband position be available again. Best wishes beautiful.
Persistence only works when feelings are reciprocated, only then it’s called dating.
The Thirst People confuse persistence with thirst all the time. The litmus test is quite simple: Would you be disgusted by the actions if you had any interest whatsoever in the individual? If so, it’s probably just some poor overanxious soul who really wants your attention. If you are disgusted and appalled by this person, you are officially a victim of The Thirst. Similar to persistence, The Thirst can be misconstrued. If you receive a message describing what the sender wants to do to every inch of your body from someone you want to do things to every inch of your body, it’s not The Thirst, it’s sexting. If you haven’t seen the married individual since 1993 when he was your summer boyfriend, it’s not only thirsty, it’s creepy.
1) This man has never met my child. 2) My Facebook inbox is not here for this foolishness. 3) Ew.
The Thirst comes in all kinds of flavors: Excessive commenting and liking of posts, statuses, and pictures…and by excessive, I mean ALL, insisting that you can do better than someone else’s man/woman, being extra…The Thirst is easily identified: Have you gotten anywhere with your “flirting”? No…oh, it’s because you’re fucking thirsty!!!
Stalking I’ve been stalked before and it’s not to be taken lightly. Back in college, a man who at one point went to the university in a neighboring town decided to set his sights on me. During a weekend break, while we were on the phone, he asked me where I lived. I gave him a general vicinity and we continued to talk on the phone. He told me he had some errands to run and we ended our conversation. About an hour later, he called me back and asked what exit he needed to take to get to my house. I was utterly confused…and then he explained he wanted to surprise me so he didn’t tell me he was about to make a 60 mile drive to my house unannounced. I told him my mother and I were about to leave out and then realized I had a weirdo on my hands. A few weeks later, while visiting a friend at his “school,” he found out I was in town, attempted to explain away his skeevy behavior and offered to drive us around to some of his fraternity events. I obliged. Long story short, he tried to kill me. Like physically wrap his hands around my throat and strangle the life from my tiny little body. He was chased down by his frat brothers, the police were called, a restraining order was filed, and I went back to my school. After he showed up on my campus asking around for me, I had to contact the campus police and let my dorm director know I had a stalker. According to the messages I continued to get, he just wanted to tell me sorry and know if he could try again. 1) No. 2) I never slept with this dude nor gave him any indication I planned on handing over my virginity to him. 3) No. I heard from one of his frat brothers that he was creeping on another freshman…it took him until I left for summer break for him to stop calling, writing letters, and doing other stalky shit. (I just looked him up on Facebook…his occupation is listed as professional boxer…go fucking figure)
It’s quite simple to determine whether your method is working: Are you in a relationship with the person you’re creeping on? Are you being ignored? Have your requests ever been honored? Will your actions put you in prison? Is there a restraining order against you? Really? Well, you just might be a persistent, thirsty stalker. This means you Blue Line Tyrell.
Bitch, I Will Cut You
02 Apr 2012 6 Comments
in Random musings of a foolish woman Tags: cutting hoes, dating, disrespect, girls, husbands, marriage
I will not fight over a boyfriend. I will not argue with you. I will not show up at your job and cuss you out in front of your boss over a man who is not my husband. I will, however, choke slam a ho as soon as the ink on my marriage certificate dries. Please believe Mr. Cindasmommy will feel my wrath as well, but I know how to handle that shit at the crib. I will publicly make an example out of any broad who even toes the line of disrespecting my marriage vows. I will stop her fucking heart. Make no mistake, you will rue the day that you decided that it was appropriate for you to participate in activites that are a detriment to my marital bliss. Single women don’t understand. They try to come with lines like “You should be taking care of home.” I’ll show you how I take care of home, bitch. I will fucking show you.
I have no problem with platonic relationships between men and women. I am a woman who enjoys sports way too much to not recognize that there is a possibility that a friendship based solely on the home team can exist. What I do not recognize is some women’s desire to implant themselves in situations that are clearly bordering on disrespectful. Perhaps single women are just unaware of what is okay and what isn’t, so to keep you hoes from getting stabbed by your “boy’s” wife, I’ll help you out.
Keep a 2 foot distance Do not…I REPEAT…do NOT get too close to someone else’s husband. You don’t need to touch him at all. A quick hug…don’t linger bitch. Perhaps some dap is more appropriate. But if y’all are sitting next to each other and you lean in one too many times for a private moment (and by one too many, I mean once), Mrs. might be liable to believe you’re sharing secrets and the only secrets a husband should have is with his wife. Seriously though, keep your hands off. You won’t accidentally end up sleeping with a married man if you remember to keep a two foot distance between you and someone else’s husband. If you’re not sure, carry around a ruler.
9 PM – 9 AM Remember these hours. They are important. If you look at the clock and it is between these hours, DO NOT CALL!!! Whatever you have to say can wait until morning. There is absolutely nothing you have to say to someone else’s husband after 9 PM. If it’s an emergency, call 911. If it can’t wait, call someone else. Don’t think you’re slick by texting it either. If you think you’ll forget, type it in your phone, then text it at 9:02 AM. If you really think someone else’s husband needs to hear what you have to say during this 12 hours I’ve already told you is off limits, call his wife and tell her and then she’ll relay the message. Otherwise, get some new single male friends who don’t have wives that will cut your ass for trying to communicate with their husbands during Bitch Don’t Call My House hours.
Saving Yo Ho Ass You have a flat tire. There’s a mouse in your house. Your computer has a virus. You need to call AAA, Orkin, and Geek Squad, respectively. If you’re unable to google or youtube solutions to your problem, then your independent ass should have thought about that before you decided you didn’t need no man to help you. If between the proposal and the wedding you didn’t find yourself another Captain Saveaho, you need to file that under things that are Your Bad. He has a wife and a home to take care of, and you are no longer a priority. Find someone else to get you out of your sticky situations because someone else’s husband is busy being someone else’s husband. Get your own, bitch.
If I need to ask my best friend’s husband a question, I ask her to tell him, then I talk to his ass on speaker phone. When I visited their home for the weekend, I had to purchase new pajamas because no one needs to see the bottom of my ass hanging out of my shorts. I keep our twitter/facebook exchanges to a minimum and not because she has anything to worry about. I respect the sanctity of marriage and our friendship and if she is going to be mad at me about anything, it’s gonna be because I stretched out her shoes with my big ass feet, not because I toed the marriage line. This bitch named Alejandra used to call my house just a little too much, and by my house I meant my ex-husband’s cell phone and by too much I mean more than once a week. They didn’t have that much to talk about so after she continued to call after I politely asked her ass to keep it to a minimum, I politely threatened her with bodily harm that I fully intended to carry out after she called one more time too many. I’m not married anymore, but I will let you broken home hoes know this right now, if I ever get married again and you implant your self where it doesn’t need to be implanted…Bitch, I will cut you.
Dear Mr. Black Man
30 Nov 2011 Leave a Comment
in Random musings of a foolish woman Tags: black men, Black women, dating, relationships
Dear Mr. Black Man,
This is getting a little ridiculous. Maybe I’m just not making myself clear. Maybe you just don’t get it. Society has led some of you to believe that women are the ones who are miserable being alone and will do anything to get/keep a man, when it’s become quite apparent to me that some men are the ones who fear being alone. I’ve come to the conclusion that all of the resistance to growing up and settling down arrives from your worry that the woman you finally commit to will hurt you. This is where the JayKay tough love comes in: GROW THE FUCK UP AND GET SOME THERAPY!!!! I’ve encountered way more damaged men than I have women simply because women are more willing to admit that certain happenstances in their lives have left them unfit for human interaction and they seek help: from friends, clergy, or an actual licensed therapist. Black men (as a broad generalization) tend to chalk up their fatal character flaws to “yeah, that’s just the way I am” or even worse, not even recognize their issues as flaws at all. I’m not one of those chicks that like to point out what’s fucked up with black men and offer the solution of dating Others. I’m that type of girl who offers constructive criticism (not that you’re gonna listen, you stubborn bastard).
Bait and Switch
Recently, a man offered to purchase us Bears tickets for what would have been our second date. As a matter of fact, he offered to take me to a Bears game for our first date. I was obviously skeptical, not because I don’t believe I’m worth a $400 date, I just didn’t think he’d come through. Sure enough, he didn’t. Instead of admitting his mistake, he ignored the fact that he’d made a specific offer and informed me that there were more games left in the season THEN asked me out to dinner THEN failed to understand what me declining his offer had to do with his failure to procure tickets AND acknowledge said failure.
This may not seem like a fatal flaw to many, and some would have gone out to dinner with him but me? Nah, I’m good, son. This dude is damaged goods. The bait and switch comes in all forms, but the perpetrators usually make all types of promises upon meeting a woman and then treats those promises as “game.”. Fuck yo game, nigga, I’ve been going to Bears games all season long. I didn’t need that gentleman to make me any promises he couldn’t fulfill and I resent the fact that he wasn’t man enough to own up to his bullshit. If I tolerate that, there’s no telling what other shit he’ll switcharoo on me. These promises aren’t always in the form of tangible goods. There’s Mr. I’m Looking For Something Long Term who’s actually just dipping his dick in whoever let’s him or Mr. I’m Single…when my girl isn’t standing right next to me. Look, you ain’t gosta lie, Craig. While you may believe you’re spitting game, unless you plan on fulfilling all that game you’re spitting, you’re nothing but a liar who needs to grow up and be honest. The best game is no game at all. You don’t have to impress me with shit you’re not even remotely capable of fulfilling.
Leave the white girls out of this
This 24 year old standing in line at the club on Halloween tried to convince me of his dateability. Instead of taking my “you’re too young” and leave well enough alone, he decided to engage me in a debate on what’s wrong with women and how we turn down quality men and blah blah bullshit. He ended his nonsense with a “that’s why we fuck with white girls.” I’m 87% sure his boy held his breath as he waited on my inevitable Angry Black Woman reaction. Instead, I replied to his stupid ass, “Good, they can have you.” A random white chick standing in front of me yelled out, “We don’t want him!” and the crowd went wild. I’m only gonna say this one time: If you have such a serious problem with black women that you feel your only recourse is to date white women THEN SO BE IT! Most of us aren’t mad you about it. As a matter of fact, you’re damaged as hell and we’re glad to be rid of you. Be gone from our dating pool because a man who believes that a woman’s race defines the type of woman she is is too stupid to be worthy of dating anyone, including the white woman he has stereotyped. White women should be equally offended when a black man only dates white women because he’s been emotionally scarred enough to swear off an entire race of women. He’s DAMAGED!!! RUN!!!!!
Delusions of Grandeur
I’ve already addressed the issue men seem to have believing their mediocrity should be good enough to earn him the hand of any woman of his choosing. Those Very Smart Brothas defined the Diva Dude a year ago and were nice enough to repost it and it still isn’t getting through to some of you. Black women aren’t single because we don’t recognize how amazing you are. Some of you just aren’t that amazing and fail to understand why women refuse to put up with your nonsense. It’s not us. It’s you! It’s all you.
Match.com story: I received an email that read subject: Don’t be shy. Body: Let’s do this. His profile:
She can wear a romper (pants or shorts) and heels to the NBA game, but could beat most chicks that will be hatin in a game of hoops. She NEVER fights, rarely curses, and seldomly raises her voice. She knows how to get whatever she wants out of me and never ALLOWS me to feel insecure. Always the perfect lady in the streets but a tough kill in the sheets. And if I bought the games tickets, she laughs at me for tryna buy the drinks. And we drink like royalty while we enjoy the game. Clearly, the woman has her own. She can wait about 3 to five years for kids, but definitely wants some. And knows she won’t have any trouble bouncing back after the rug rats are here I want a woman that’s a little concided verse a little insecure, yet has her ego in check.For this woman, I give her my all!
What in all kinds of fucks is this? I refuse to dissect this bullshit, but let me just tell you that I said no. Actually, I didn’t even say no. I just blocked his dumb ass from ever contacting me ever ever ever again. I get tired of being told that my standards are too high and that maybe I should just accept a man having 5 kids since I have a kid. It’s not the same fucking thing. Another guy said that women won’t date his average-looking friend with good credit and no kids who is also a bit of a lame (his words, not mine). What self-respecting woman wants to date someone whose own boy can’t come up with anything better to describe him as than “he pays his bills on time and wears a condom.” That shit ain’t cute and we’re not going! What if I told a guy that my girl was average-looking with good credit and no kids and was kind of a bitch? He’d look at me like I was a damn fool and that’s the same way I’m looking at you. Guess what buddy? I’m not interested in your lack of punctuation or your lame ass ugly friend and you’re not going to make me feel bad about not dating you nor hooking you up with my friends. They may not be attractive enough for you, but you’re definitely too fucking delusional for us.
This letter isn’t to all black men, because I don’t deal in absolutes. Not all black men, just like not all black women (and for that matter not all of anyone) are on the foolishness that keeps the producers of the Dateline segments employed. God, I hate Dateline. No one is buying the bullshit…actually, too many of us are buying the bullshit. Being single isn’t a disease and for most, it’s a purposeful choice. I’m pretty sure I could convince some man to marry me and take me away from this loneliness *sarcasm* but instead, I choose to focus on what’s important to me: ME (and Cinda) but mostly ME!! I’m not running to the arms of a white man because black men are such fuck ups and I’m also not settling for whatever falls before me out of fear of growing old alone. I can get dick. I can go on dates. I could probably get someone to pay my bills or whatever else some men believe women need from you. I’m not saying I’m so independent that I got this and don’t need no man for shit, but I want to need you, not need to need you. For now, I’m happy going at this alone until I find someone who isn’t perfect, just perfect for me.
Sincerely (and once again, I’m being SO sincere)
Me
I QUIT! You’re On Your Own
05 Oct 2011 3 Comments
in Love, Random musings of a foolish woman Tags: dating
*NOTE* The click here link is http://www.markay.com/courtneyd
Recently, I had one too many drinks and told a friend of a friend that I would find a suitable mate for him. Little did I know, giving birth to a 9 lb 6 oz Sumo monster baby was a less arduous task than what I promised while blinded by the thrill of Mayweather knocking the shit out of ol’ boy and cocktails courtesy of the fine gentlemen of Atlanta. Unreasonable requests and unwarranted pickiness have forced me to throw in my matchmaking towel. I’m through with helping the delusional find love. They’re not good listeners and I left teaching so I wouldn’t have to deal with individuals who won’t listen. Instead, I offer a few words of advice to the clueless.
Ladies: I agree 100% that at the end of the day, looks shouldn’t be a priority. The most attractive people aren’t always intelligent (Tyrese), they might be crazy (Halle Berry), or just a horrible, terrible person (Kobe Bryant). Physical beauty is so subjective and one man’s Tyra Banks is another man’s Mo’Nique…I think I’m the shit, but not every man goes for my type. As a matter of fact, some men don’t even have a type. Their only requirement is that you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed ALL THE DAMN TIME!!! Is it really that difficult to show up for a date with some makeup, a cute outfit and the façade of a freshly coiffed head? I’m not even saying look like you’re headed to the Oscars, just look like you give half a damn. You may believe that it’s what’s on the inside that counts, and you’re right but look at it this way, who wants to sample a cake that’s slightly overcooked with no icing?
Some women have spent so much time being plain, they don’t even realize their quest for a husband is being hindered by the fact that they look as though they don’t want a husband. Men are shallow, but only to a certain point. They want someone another man wants too. He may learn to love all of those fabulous things about you, but if you’re not turning any heads, it really doesn’t matter how great you are. This has nothing to do with your attractiveness, nor judging a book by its cover. This is all about packaging and presentation. Some women don’t believe they need to do anything with their appearance and want men to look deep into their souls….MEN AREN’T THAT DEEP!!!! So wax the mustache, do something with your damn hair, buy at least one figure flattering going out ensemble, put on some makeup, at the very least mascara and lip gloss (If you need cosmetics help, click here. My girl Courtney is happy to help) and head out. You can go back to being your frumpy, funny-looking self tomorrow, but enjoy at least one day not looking like a school marm.
Fellas:
Fellas, fellas, fellas, fellas…..
Now that I’ve berated the ladies, it’s your turn. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: HAVING A JOB AND NO KIDS DOES NOT MAKE YOU A HOT COMMODITY! Women aren’t impressed by your almost six-figure income, because guess what? THEY ARE PULLING SIX FIGURES!!! No one gives a damn that you don’t have any kids. Do you want a fucking cooking?!?! I’m not gonna repeat the same thing over and over again so for more information read this. There is nothing I can’t stand more is a man who thinks he deserves to date model chicks simply because he has the desire to date them. Perhaps you believe you can have any woman you want, but men are the most unrealistic creatures on the face of this earth. I’m not saying settle for a woman you’re not attracted to but shit, something’s gotta give!!!! Men blame their rejection on women’s standards being too high instead of looking in the mirror and saying, “If I were a model chick, would I wanna date me?” Or they ask their single male friends their opinion without understanding that their “boys” aren’t gonna tell them the truth. Of course you’re not annoying to your boy who never seems to have a shortage of women at his behest. As a matter of fact, you’re doing just fine to him because the dumber you look, the better he looks.
You may say you’re not looking for anything long term, but you know that you’re terrified of growing old alone. All of you men who seem to have a problem with commitment keep reading all of these articles about the Desperate Black Woman and figure you can have any woman you want, so why settle for just one? What you fail to understand is that, pretty soon, you’ll have a reputation for being a whore and women will wonder why you’re 40 and have never been married. She won’t think you were waiting for her. She will think something is wrong with you and she’s right. Something is wrong with you. It’s called “I was too busy being full of myself when I was younger to engage in a meaningful relationship with one woman.” And don’t think you’re gonna get a young girl…she’s gonna get tired of having to run to Walgreens to pick up your Cialis. Stop being such a douche and exploiting the fact that women believe they can’t do any better than sharing you with other women because frankly, you’re making men look really fucking stupid (yourself included).
I am officially done. I’m done worrying about you broads not having a man because you won’t dress the part. I’m done worrying about dudes being too stupid to recognize a good thing standing right in front of them because they’re expecting Beyonce to drop from the sky into their laps. I’m done with matchmaking, hookups, talking you up, mentioning you. DONE!!!! I have a kid to raise.
When Disaster Strikes
20 Mar 2011 Leave a Comment
in Random musings of a foolish woman Tags: dating
I hate dating. Y’all know how I feel about it. I’ve expressed my disdain for the very foundation dating is built upon numerous times. I’m more of the “falling for someone I know” type and although it hasn’t necessarily worked (yet), it’s been less of a failure than that good old-fashioned Girl meets Boy, Boy asks Girl out, Girl hates Boy because he’s a fucking dillhole style so many of you prefer. Last night further cemented my faith in the former method because the fool I went out with TOTALLY ruined it for me. It was bad enough to make me swear off dating permanently…but since I’m adventurous and what not, I’ll just analyze the red flags I should have paid attention to.
Red Flag #1 Astrological Incompatibility
I don’t fuck with Geminis. Just can’t do it. When this fool told me his birthday, I almost hung up on him. Whether you believe in astrology or not, there are some characteristics about certain signs that seem to manifest every single time, no matter what you believe. Maybe we live up to our zodiac signs, maybe our behavior is predetermined by the date of our birth. I don’t care how you make sense of it, I don’t fuck with Geminis. We’re not compatible. I won’t get into the specifics of why, just know that we aren’t. Same goes for Aquarius, Aries, Leo, Libra and Sagittarius. I make exceptions for cusp babies (18-22 of each month). Every other sign, every other sign. I’m sure tons of people will lament about my logic and share how they met the love of their life and how their signs are supposed to be incompatible and blah blah blah. Yeah, well then I’m not talking to you, now am I? All I’m saying is I should have followed my gut and The Daily Astrologer on twitter and left the bipolar Gemini right where I found him.
Red Flag #2 Tardiness
I’m impatient and I hate waiting. When someone makes me wait, it shows how little they respect my time. I have slow ass friends that I’ve come to accept lateness from. First dates, however, don’t have that luxury. If you say we should meet between 7:30 and 8pm, when I show up at your house at 7:40pm and tell you I’m downstairs, I shouldn’t have to wait a half hour in my car for you to come downstairs, even if you did get bubble guts as you were walking out the door (true story, I was utterly disgusted). Yes, I should have taken my ass home, but this sinus infection has my judgment all kinds of messed up. I’m impatient and I hate waiting. Some things are unavoidable (bad accident on the expressway), but poor timing on your part is grounds for termination for consideration as a potential second date.
Red Flag #3 Plans That Involve His Family
No, I don’t want to go to your cousin’s 40th birthday party at her house. No, I don’t want to go your brother’s ghetto wedding reception where the couple’s four children aged 4-17 were all in the wedding party. No, I do not want to go to your grandfather’s retirement party. The purpose of a first date is to get to know me, not me to know your entire family. I don’t want them all in my face asking me a million questions. I don’t want your freaky uncle telling me that he wishes he didn’t run out of Viagra last week. I don’t even know if I want to get to know you, I sure as hell don’t want to get know a group of people I may never see again in life, especially a large group of them. Family functions are not good first dates EVER!! I don’t want to meet your family until I’ve met the jewels…family jewels.
I thought my last set of red flags would have kept me on my toes, but alas, I don’t take my own advice. Hindsight is a bitch in contact lenses and I keep on forgetting to bring my solution. I’m cool on dating for a while. I need to recuperate from last night’s fiasco. Since I don’t ever name names (to protect the stupid), I’ll just say this: If you’re an Aries and a Taurus asks you out, shows up 40 minutes late and takes you to his niece’s Sweet Sixteen, know that I tried to warn you.
Dating (Is) For Dummies
14 Nov 2010 3 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: condoms, dating, men, public intoxication, rude ass people, rules, sex, women
I don’t like dating. Actually, I despise it with every fiber of my being. The entire process completely turns me off: meeting someone, talking or texting, setting up a date that doesn’t conflict with either of our busy schedules, meeting, realizing he isn’t as cute as he was the night I met him, being bored out of my mind because he’s boring as shit, and finally the awkward goodbye. Dating is the pits, but I’ve learned the ropes and picked up a few dos and don’ts along the way.
Turn your ringer off I went out with a man who spent the entire ride to the restaurant on the phone. The call kept dropping so every 6 minutes, his loud ass annoying ringtone chimed alerting him to pick up the phone so his sister could finish telling him what happened to her and their cousin in Miami. He asked me if I minded before he started talking to her and I even talked to her, too (we go way back) but that phone rang ALL NIGHT LONG!!! Text messages, phone calls, emails, etc. Instead of putting the phone on vibrate, this fool let the sucker ring. He never answered after we got to the restaurant, but that didn’t stop whoever was trying to reach him from trying. Finally, I had to say “Pretty Boy who’s only getting a second chance because you’re so pretty, your ever-chiming phone is annoying. Put that shit on vibrate!” He obliged, but not before he firmly cemented himself in No More Dates For You Land, pretty face and all.
Anticipate Sex Oh don’t give me that “I don’t do blah blah blah on the first date.” Shit happens!! As a rule, I don’t either, but I also don’t ever say never. So what do you do when things are going fabulously, you go back to your place for a cup of coffee, the kissing turns to that thing that happens after kissing and SHIT!!! Your crotch, underarms, and legs look like Cousin Itt, you don’t have a single condom, and there are clothes ALL OVER YOUR BEDROOM FLOOR!!! Your three month rule is going to remain intact because you forgot to grab a few items from Walgreens. Oh quit fronting like you don’t like sex! That good girl, I don’t usually do this crap is played out. Men also need to get over the “if she slept with me on the first night then who else has she slept with on the first night” foolishness, too. Chances are, it doesn’t happen very often for either of you but when people place stipulations on nature and not prepare for sex, they end up risking their lives and livelihoods having unprotected sex. I’m not advocating having sex on the first, second, or ANY date. What I am saying is be prepared for it.
Stay Sober This goes for everyone, men AND women. Who the hell blames it on the alcohol anymore? Inebriation puts you in a state of vulnerability and unless you’re extremely comfortable with your companion, sobriety is your best bet. Drunkenness will have you saying and doing things you wouldn’t do sober. Yeah, I get that drunk actions are sober thoughts, but inhibitions are what separate us from people who appear on reality shows. Once your inhibitions have been totally eradicated by those shots of Patron, the evening becomes an episode of Blind Date without those funny popups. Not everyone manifests intoxication in the same manner (I’m a get naked, get in bed and go to sleep drunk), so while you might be an amorous drunk, your date may be a belligerent drunk who gets really pissed off when you decide you love everyone at the bar. My advice: save the shots for a night out with your friends and alternate every drink with a glass of water when you’re on a date.
I’m sure there are plenty of things I’ve missed: make sure you have a sitter, wear deodorant, dress appropriately (stilettos at the movies just don’t work and neither does a white tee at…well, everywhere) but from a person who hates to date, these work well for me. Dating comes with all kinds of unspoken rules and as a professional non-dater, I listen to my friends complain about their crappy dates and giggle a little inside. If they knew like I knew how much dating sucks, they wouldn’t be having all these issues.
From Sex Buddy to Husband: The Road to Holy Matrimony
06 Aug 2010 3 Comments
in Random musings of a foolish woman Tags: boyfriends, dating, love, marriage, relationships, sex
Ok, the title is a bit misleading. I DO NOT have a road map leading one from bed buddy to wife with easy to follow directions. A friend asked me to explain, in my foolish manner, the difference between sex buddy, husband and all those titles in between and because I have nothing better to do this summer, I take requests. I’ve had a booty call, bed buddy, boo, boyfriend, fiancé, AND a husband and I’ll attempt to explain the difference among them all.
Booty Call He/you calls, he/you gets booty, he leaves/you go home. There is nothing more. Y’all don’t hang out. Y’all don’t have deep conversations on the phone. He/you calls at obscene hours of the night. The text messages you exchange are explicit and are generally sent after a night of drinking. He is not your man and will probably never EVER be! He is a booty call. That is it!!! Don’t confuse him with a Never Wanna Do Nothing because he does wanna do something: YOU! You are NOT a hoe if you have a Booty Call. So many people want to define other people’s sexuality but if you’re comfortable with the nature of your sex-only relationship with the Booty Call, do yourself a favor and keep this one to yourself. People don’t mean to be judgmental (yes they do) and tend to impose their own idiosyncrasies about sex upon others. As long as you protect yourself against unwanted pregnancy, STDs, and errant emotions, have fun because it’s no one’s business but yours and his. My opinion: GET LAID!!! Just remember to keep it simple, stupid. It’s about sex. Only about sex. About nothing more than sex.
Bed Buddy The difference between a Booty Call and a Bed Buddy is the nature of your relationship outside of the bedroom. This one is probably the most difficult to maintain. It involves combining a sexual relationship AND some sort of public interaction. You may be friends, coworkers, classmates but one thing you are not is a couple. You don’t go on dates and your social interaction is limited to group events. Bed Buddies should also be kept a secret which means whatever your relationship looked like publicly before y’all started boning should be what it continues to look like. While Bed Buddies are more likely to turn into something more than Booty Calls are, don’t expect it and don’t pretend you can handle him going on actual dates with women he is actually interested in. If you want more, your best bet is to a) tell him as soon as you “catch feelings”, b) don’t be upset if he doesn’t feel the same way about you and c) STOP SLEEPING WITH HIM!!!! Remember that you’re the one who has changed the rules so you can’t beat yourself (or him) up over the fact that he may not want to play the same game that you want to play. If he does want to play, then your Bed Buddy may turn into your….
Boo Ah…the Boo. This is the step right before Boyfriend (and I am NOT saying that every Boo will eventually become your Boyfriend). He is your go-to guy for social events, you have met his friends and family, you’re allowed to touch both the remote AND the radio in his car. He’s ok with PDA and you are widely recognized as the woman he’s seeing. So you’re his girlfriend, right? WRONG!!! Exclusivity and monogamy are the two things standing in the way and until you’ve had the “I’m not seeing anyone else but you” talk: HE IS NOT YOUR MAN!!!! That needs to be repeated: HE IS NOT YOUR MAN!!!! Everything that quacks is not a duck, it could be a chicken who was raised by a duck. Don’t assume that he is your Boyfriend because he does boyfriend-stuff. You’ll find yourself spending two years with a man who ends up marrying that girl he met at the barber shop. It’s very difficult for some women to NOT be exclusive with a man, but if he hasn’t made any commitments to you, don’t feel obligated to make any to him. Boos are great to have, but don’t turn down a date with the cutie at the gym because you think your Boo might get mad. Who cares if he gets mad?!?! He ain’t yo man!! Keep him on his toes, because if he thinks you’re not going anywhere, he’s not going to do much to keep you around. My advice with a Boo is to make sure you’re at the same priority level that he places you. If he makes plans on Saturday nights, then keep yourself occupied as well. You don’t have to actually go out or even lie to him about going out, but don’t sit around waiting on him. Commitment should be a mutual decision and if you’re waiting on him to be ready, chances are he’s not only NOT ready, but you just may not be the one he wants to commit to. He shouldn’t settle for you and you sure as hell shouldn’t settle for being settled on. It is possible, however, to turn a Boo into a….
Boyfriend You’ve made it!! You’ve met a guy, you’ve fallen in love, he’s not trying to screw your friends, he’s NOT dating other people. He’s YOUR Boyfriend! Now how on earth do you keep him? Same way that you got him, perhaps. I’ve already explained how visual and sexual men are so don’t think you can wear stilettos and give him head while driving on Lake Shore Drive while you’re dating then switch to flip flops and hand jobs while watching Real Housewives of **insert major city** once he’s become your Boyfriend. It also doesn’t mean he can stop doing the fun exciting things that won YOUR heart either. Expecting things to be exactly the same as they were when you were dating is foolish, life doesn’t work that way. Your connection is deeper than the shallow nature of dating, so act accordingly. Discuss your needs and make sure you’re discussing needs and not wants based on other people’s relationships. Most importantly, don’t turn a Boyfriend into a Husband. Those men are two totally different people. His parents are not your in-laws (notice the use of the word “law” which applies to the legal nature of an actual marriage). Mingling money is tricky (have you seen Judge Mathis?) and so is cohabitation and parenting if you choose to have a child(ren) out of wedlock. For some, this is the final stage of a relationship and marriage is not necessary. My only advice is that if marriage is what you want, you probably shouldn’t act like his wife until you actually are, which leads to the…
Husband You’ve stood before God and your friends and family and vowed to spend the rest of your life with him. Marriage is hard. Very hard. You’ve made the decision to not only spend, but blend your life with someone else’s and that’s exactly what you’re doing: BLENDING! It’s not about you, singular; it’s about you, plural. A marriage can ONLY be successful when BOTH husband and wife understand that although they are still individuals, they have committed to become one. Anyone who knows me, or has read my blog, knows that the end of my marriage was beyond my control, but I was always fully committed to my husband until it was impossible to do so. The Husband is the only person on this earth (besides your children) who deserves 100% of you and he should be giving you the same. When that number decreases (or is perceived to decrease) many people want to get out. Some cheat, some become distant, others head straight to an attorney. What is so special about marriage is that the only people who can solve the problems in a marriage is a Husband and Wife. Seeking outside advice should be mutual, because remember, you’re now acting as ONE. Many women forget this and try to repair the relationship alone, which may be okay with a Boyfriend, Boo or Bed Buddy but NEVER with a Husband. Husbands are hard work, so before you ask for one, be prepared to have one.
Relationships are not one size fits all, so please don’t use what I say as Mapquest. I’ve had a Booty Call, a Husband and everything in between. I’ve learned valuable lessons from every experience I’ve had and I figure it would be selfish of me not to share what I’ve discovered. Hopefully, if you were confused about where you stood with HIM, you’re clear now. Good luck!
So THAT’S Where They’ve Been Hiding!
28 Jul 2010 4 Comments
in Random musings of a foolish woman Tags: dating, men, Sports, women
Last week, I wrote a post for the fellas, giving them a direct map to where all the good women have been hiding. Since then, I’ve been asking men where they like to hang out because my friends and I are OBVIOUSLY looking in the wrong places. Like I thought, “at my boy’s crib” was the number one answer. I also got a few good tips that involve public places and DON’T involve video games. I’ve compiled the data, figured out how to make it work and, as promised, this one is for the ladies!
The Barber Shop You know that nappy head ass little boy that’s always throwing rocks at your garage? Do his mama a favor and offer to take him to get a hair cut. Ask a male friend for a recommendation and make an appointment. I’ve been told some barber shops have nail technicians and if not, you can always get some work done. Vary his appointment to see what other days of the week have to offer. Once you’ve checked out the scene, keep a standing biweekly appointment with your favorite neighborhood hoodlum. Not only are you mentoring a youth, you’re getting an eye full of man candy fresh out the barber’s chair. You’ll be impressive because you’re A) Probably the only chick in the entire shop B) You’re so dedicated to the young lad and C) You’re not paying the men in the shop any attention. You read that correctly! If you’re there looking desperate, they’ll know you’re up to something. Play it cool. **ICE COLD** Be there for your young friend, not the cute customers. Bring a book…someone will bother ask you about what you’re reading. Casually strike up a conversation about whatever sport season you’re in, and if you’re not sure, don’t pretend you know what you’re talking about. Pretty soon, you’ll be like one of the guys, and that’s when you make your move.
Flag football, soccer, softball **insert team sport** So apparently men like sports. Yeah, I know, right?!?! Whoda thunk it?! Where there are sports, there are men. And where there are men…well, you get the point. Even if you’re not very athletic, ie., you trip over your own two feet, you can practice. Or if you’re adverse to physical activity, be a spectator and watch your friends play. Cheerlead, bring Gatorade, or just provide transportation to the post-game bar. I was not the most athletic girl in gym class – the other volleyball team would sit down when it was my turn to serve – but apparently it’s not about your skill level, it’s all about the fun. After watching that episode of The Boondocks, I’ve decided kickball is my sport and will be joining a team this fall. Ask around, the city is crawling with co-ed team sports and they’d be happy to have you.
Right in front of your nose Women often shoot good men down because they’re missing a single component of that “package” we’ve put together in our brains. We make a list of criteria and if a man doesn’t fit every single last one of them, we shoot them down. He’s not tall enough, he doesn’t give me goosebumps, my car is nicer than his, I make more than him (and not much more), he’s an Alpha, I only date Kappas. His nose is big, he has small hands, blah blah blah. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having standards, as a matter of fact, I applaud them (See Do You Want A Cookie). What is so very wrong is when your standards are unattainable criteria that you cling so tightly to, NO man is good enough for you. You keep on holding out for a man who gets a check for every item on your list and you’ll be single FOREVER. Finding a boyfriend isn’t like going to Target; you’re not going to find everything you want. The guy you keep bumping into at Borders may not be the most handsome guy in the bookstore, but he’s not there because he shares your love for Zane (Men don’t go to Borders). I’m absolutely crazy about a guy who’s been RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE for almost two years (and that is all I’m about to share about that). My point is, and I always have one, that while your list may have everything you desire from a mate, half of that crap you really don’t need. Are you sure you’re gonna turn down a potential Mr. Right because he doesn’t have dreads and dreads are a MUST HAVE? Rank your list from most to least important and if a man has those top five, he has potential.
That was easier than I thought! Before anyone questions whether any of these ideas work, I must say I can only attest to the last two. That barber shop trick is a new one and should probably be attempted only be a skilled extrovert. I may try it over the summer and let you ladies know how it works. Some other places men clued me in on are: the golf course, the gym, men’s sections of department stores, sports bars during a big game/fight (all football games are big games, fyi), and jogging in the park (do this one with a buddy, he could be running towards you to try something shady). I hope this helps Ladies! Good luck and happy hunting!
STFU
07 Jun 2010 2 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: dating, men, women
Women are dumb. No seriously, we are. I like to think of myself as one of the few who have overcome estrogen to become The Enlightened. I fancy myself as a dude’s chick. I genuinely like sports, I drink beer, love steak, refuse to ask for directions, and hate Sex and the City. I’m not masculine in any way, shape or form, I just choose not to do chick stuff. Over the years, I listen to my girls gripe about stuff their menfolk do. Instead of talking to their mate, they buy Steve Harvey’s book or watch Dateline about the absence of good black men. I want to look them square in the eye and say STFU!!! Many times, the answer to women’s problems is to STFU and as always, I’ll explain. (I’m a teacher, it’s what I do).
He says: Damn girl, where you been?
She says: Nowhere. Why? Where have YOU been? Why do you wanna know? What?! Are you saying I usually look bad? Blah blah blah….
I say: STFU!!! It’s a compliment!! Say thank you and keep it moving. As much as we’d like a perfect compliment, you chicks are so silly that no matter what he says, you’ll find a way to take offense to it. Compliments don’t always come wrapped in a pretty bow. Sometimes they come in a Target bag. It’s not how it’s packaged, it’s what was intended.
He says: Baby, the train leaves at 4 from platform 12.
She says: But the sign says it leaves at 5 from platform 16. We’re gonna miss our train then we won’t make it then we’ll be late…blah blah blah.
I say: STFU!!! This actually happened yesterday on our way to Ravinia at the Metra station. A woman INSISTED she was right, yelling at her male companion from halfway across the station. She was wrong. Really wrong. All she had to do was STFU and listen. She was looking at the wrong time. She was wrong. Very wrong. He was right. She was wrong. Word of advice: unless you’re absolutely positive, STFU or at the very least, don’t yell across the train station about how wrong your man is when you’re the one who’s wrong. Dead wrong.
He says: Honey let’s go to that hot new restaurant everyone is talking about this Friday at 8 PM.
She says: OK, make sure you make reservations.
He says: We won’t need them. My boy got a hook up and if he’s not there I’m sure we can get a seat at the bar.
She says: But I don’t wanna sit at the bar. Blah blah blah….
I say: STFU and make the damn reservation! If he insists upon just stopping by and hoping for a table, don’t follow that foolishness then waste your time sitting at the bar with an attitude. Why argue about something that is simple (and free) to do? Pick up your iPhone or BlackBerry, get the number, make a reservation – do it in his name for all I care – and go out for dinner. Some women will purposely get dressed up and go out KNOWING FULL WELL they won’t get a table just to prove a point. When you’re right, YOU’RE RIGHT!! Like my grandma always said, don’t cut off your nose to spite your face. You end looking like a fool with no nose.
He says: We can go out for brunch after the football game.
She says: But I’m hungry and it’ll be too late and I thought Sundays were for us…blah blah BLAH!!!
I say: STFU and go out for brunch with your girlfriends who don’t watch football. Even better, COOK brunch. Even MORE better, get online and order from Grub Hub. Same rules apply for playoffs of any sport. Stop pretending that your plans are more important than the game. They’re not. He does the dumb shit you wanna do so show some respect for the sanctity of athletics and get some business. Download Score Mobile, check his favorite teams’ schedules and plan things that you want to do during those times like get a pedicure or visit your mother. Chances are you’ll be glad you got some alone time without him complaining about having to hold your purse while you try on 15 little black dresses.
I don’t claim to be a relationship “guru” but experience is an excellent teacher. I’ve learned from the mistakes I’ve made as well as the many mistakes of my friends, associates, and random women I’ve watched screw up royally. I’m single, but relationship status isn’t an indicator of relationship success potential. I’d make a pretty good girlfriend, I just haven’t met anyone who’d make a pretty good boyfriend…yet…or maybe I have… ANYWAY! The point is, sometimes, the best thing to do is to STFU, you never know how much you’ll actually hear when your mouth isn’t always running.
