Know When To Hold 'Em

You say that your favorite restaurant cost $30 dollars a plate. The financially stable, 10 years your senior, “great” older guy your mutual friend set you up with says his favorite restaurant is IHOP. Despite this, you agree to go out on a date with this man. The time and date have been set. But he doesn’t show, nor call. Later he explains that he was detained at church because he’s teaching the youth at vacation Bible school. You accept this apology because who doesn’t want a religious man who cares for the kids?! And so you plan to make a date for later that week for 5pm. At 2 pm on date day you haven’t heard from him to confirm your plans. 7 days later you still haven’t heard from him, but you are still contemplating contacting him, because he did casually mention once that he likes to go on road trips to Kentucky. So maybe…

Put the phone down I shout from the rooftops!

Sadly this is dating tale of a middle aged single mother who divorced her husband several years ago. Now if you are thinking she’s stupid, crazy or at least clueless I would have to agree. All these adjectives aptly describe this family friend who has been looking for love in all the wrong places. Determined to be in a relationship or die trying to get into one and make it work, she’s had her fair share of heartache and headache. But darn women and our Mrs. Fix-It, I can do it, see me roaring, I can turn ashy into classy selves! Because to me, there is nothing in this scenario to hold on to. You’ve been stood up twice, he likes to eat microwaved pancakes and hardly cooked potato hash browns… but because your friend said he was “great” you want to *67 your phone number, call, and see if he answers? Put the phone down!

I know scientists are busy growing people in Petri dishes and finding cures for cancer and such, but could they please do just a study on the emotional plight of the single woman? Starting with our online dating profiles that say we are well read, love to travel and have the cutest hairless cat named “Fluffy”.

Because somewhere there is a reason why we do the voodoo that we do do, or at least why we’ve all gone slightly insane at the altar of men. Why we can accept a man’s excuse for not following through for the umpteenth time, but can cuss our kids because they ask for candy? I think scientists have concluded that’s it just easier to zap a cancer cell than to understand the inner mental workings of one woman, forget trying to figure out more than that!

But this middle aged woman has many dating stories similar to this. Two different men she met online texted to state they couldn’t answer the phone when she called because they lost their voice. Another one, who was recently widowed said that he couldn’t make a date because his in-laws need him to do things at their house. And yet another man from New York said that he didn’t like that she wore weave. I mean really guy from New York? You can’t tell me you haven’t been with a woman who wore false hair before!

But instead of shaking them off and moving on, she keeps holding on and hoping. And just like Old Yeller, I wish someone would shoot her out back in the shed, not because I don’t want her to live, but she’s has gone mad in this endless loop of wondering why he isn’t calling her anymore. And she’s become a danger to herself. Maybe my greater wish is that these men would ball up and tell her straight, with no chaser that they simply aren’t interested. A guy did that to me once, and it hurt like heck-but it was worth every tear. I’ve changed my mind. Scientists should do a study on men and confrontation with their women folk-they seem to avoid it, often-and I’d like to know what’s up with that! I think family friend lady should have known at IHOP that he just wasn’t the “great” man for her. How much easier it would have been to just let it go and walk away.

See You In Seven

why can't sherri find a man?

by now you've all probably seen that excuse for real dialouge: nightline face off -- why successful black women can't find a man?

so what did you think?  really i wanna know.  i could write a post discussing the ridculousness of it all but i'd rather read your comments.

i do have a few takeaways:

1.  sherri shepherd is evil, EVIL!!! (in Marcus' voice from Why Did I Get Married?).  she is bitter and angry and should never ever ever ever (ever ever) speak for single black women again.

2. why can't a discussion about black women and getting married include black psychologists, sociologists, writers, thinkers, happily married only 1 or even 2 times (i'm lookin at you Steve), non-dysfunctional folk?  the people on the panel had no credibility in my opinion, no knowledge base to tell any single person about getting and staying married.  vsb p said it best:

 Having suspect ass “dating experts” tell suspect ass single women why they can’t get a man

Steve Harvey, Hill Harper, and Jimi Izreal? Really? Sherri “my hips are too gone to box with God” and Jacque “How’d I End Up On this Panel” Reed? Overmarried, undermarried and overmarried?  Oversingle and Ovaries on fire? Really Nightline? You gonna tell Black women they can’t find a man by having a bad comic, a gay dude, and a dude who’s shirt hates women chop it up with two women who can’t find a man for good reasons? That right there, ninja? That sh*t right there?

Is just disrespectful.

3. i hate when people say things to sound deep but just end up repeating some cliche or "reframing the question/issue/topic," making you scratch your head like huh?   for example: helena andrews prolific soundbite: blah blah blah the question shouldn't be why can't successful black women find a man, it should be can we find each other?  ahhhh yessss.  that's it.  the bitch is the new black has solved our relationship problems.  we asking the wrong questions.

what say ya'll?

rethinking mr. perfect

so approaching 30 means thinking more about marriage for a single girl like me.  i've always thought that eventually i'd be married, without much angst and worry about the mechanics of it all.  but as i get closer to the bewitching age, marriage keeps popping up.  family members ask me when i'm going to settle down.  girlfriends ponder the man situation at just about every girl's night dinner or work day lunch. 

then rum punch posted this and she mentioned this woman lori and her thoughts, on being single.  i headed over to the article and found that she had a refreshingly honest voice about being single.  she talked about how single women can't admit to being lonely for fear of having their independent woman card revoked.  i loved what she was saying and how she was saying it.  all the things i was thinking about this marriage thing.  and then i saw she wrote this book:

marry him: the case for settling for mr. good enough

sounds interesting, right?  the title kinda throws women (and some men) i talk to off.  we're taught from an early age that we are princesses who deserve nothing less than the best.  we've gone to school, gotten our degrees, established financial independence.  why then should we settle?

but when i cracked open the book and began reading, i realized that the settle part wasn't the point AT ALL.  in her book, lori talks candidly about the trials and tribulations of being a 41 year old single woman who can't find a man.  she consults dating experts, psychologists, married couples, single women and anyone else with a relevant point of view about why she's single and can't find her mr. perfect.  and there in lies the rub.  getting away from the notion of mr. perfect.  he doesn't exist and if she met him, he probably is not interested in her.  she discovers some hard truths about herself and women like her.  in her 20's and 30's she turned away men who would have been great husbands because they weren't fun enough or liked all the things she liked or were too regular.  instead, in a chapter titled "confusing good daters with good husbands," she discusses how she went for the alpha male types who seemed to be her dream men, only to realize later in life that the qualities she wanted in a husband they didn't possess.  the guys she'd overlooked went on to marry and make great husbands.

when i first looking into buying the book, i thought "oh, but she's white...."  do white women have the same experience in the love department as black women?  can a 41 year old white woman speak to mint julep about getting a man up in through her situation?  my initial thought was no but i bought the book anyway because i'm trying to make time to read more like i used to when the subway was my main mode of transportation.  and suprisingly, lori has made me think about some things in ways i hadn't done before.  she's also said some stuff that i been saying for a while now.  white women do have their unique dating issues like their aversion to bald men and their ability to throw away a decent man because his breath stinks.  i don't think black women are quite so unrealistic, we at least have an inkling about the fact that we can't have 100% of what we want in one man.  we shoot for 95%. 

the book cautions women to think critically about what they want and to keep an open mind about the man best suited to be a husband.  "...it's not about changing the other person; it's about accepting things about the other person that you'd like to change, but can't."  it's a great read and i highly recommend it for single women (and married women).  you don't have to spend money like me, check out the short article (same title) she wrote for the Atlantic in March 2008  or the video below for a glimpse.

ok ma, and? or why single successful black women might need to get over themselves

*author's note: this post is long as hell shawty but i had a lot to say about the topic. enjoy!*

we all know her. we might be her.

25-40
black
female
degreed
self-proclaimed "professional"
dresses well
hair did
wants to be married with kids
but SINGLE, and secretly (or unashamedly) despising every minute of her singlehood.

i understand it's hard out here for a black woman. we gotta deal with a lot of shit. historically we've had to deal with a lot of shit. but just like jewish folks weren't the only group of folks that were ever enslaved tortured and massacred, we aren't the only demographic that has to make a way outta no way. it's hard out here for pimps. hoes. asian men. nigerian terrorists. baby right whales. walmart cashiers. you follow me?

but somewhere along the way, little black girls who grew up into accomplished black women picked up this attitude. this air about them. a couple of traits, frames of mind, or points of reference that have screwed up (some of) our heads and quite possibly hindered our own progress, fed our own relationship failures: a sense of ENTITLEMENT & an INABILITY TO CHANGE.

the common thread between the widely discussed washington post article on helena andrews and the abcnews piece (via blacksnob.com) on black women unmarried was the idea that because "successful" black women ("SBW") have worked so hard to get the degree(s), have toiled to buy homes, fancy cars, nice clothes, and the hottest shoes, spent hours at the gym getting their bodies tight, shelled out beaucoup cash getting their hair and nails done, and faithfully attended and tought sunday school at the neighborhood church they ought to have a "successful" black man.

they deserve him. he is their due. not to mention that they are more deserving of a man, and more particularly what they consider to be a quality man, than women who don't have degrees, don't have "they shit together."

first and foremost, i think, feel, and know that love is hard! true love is a privilege. to find the right person at the right time is a challenge. every person on the planet doesn't get the opportunity to have it. there is no formula for it.

and so to imagine yourself entitled to love, marriage and a baby carriage just because you have achieved those things that make you successful (on paper) or in the eyes of your mamanem doesn't necessarily mean you'll be successful in marriage. the skills and know-how you learned and used to get the degree, the job, the promotion are not AT ALL the same ones needed to find, attract, and keep a man who wants to be married.

the sense of entitlement really becomes apparent when you look at the SBW's reaction to married/engaged/boo'ed up women who they think are "less than." especially if these women are with men who the SBWs think ought to be with them.   prime example: the backlash against reggie bush on the cover of essence this month (check the comments). black women go HOARD when they think someone less than is getting what's theirs. let a man with a law degree wife a woman without a comparable level of status. how dare he!

sadly ladies, he can and he will. cause what you as a SBW bring to the table might not be what your targeted pool of men is looking for. and an entitled attitude won't change that. love doesn't work the way that grad school admissions do. you might could be mad that homegirl from state university got in over you, harvard graduate. but in love, you ass out. he gotta want you too and maybe what you present isn't what he wants. what do you do then?

which brings me to the second problem SBWs have: a hard time changing.

now helena andrews and her friends presented themselves as accomplished, successful, having standards but carrying an edginess, a bitch side if you will. ms. andrews might be a self-described “mean girl.” that's cool. you can be alladat. but SBWs who take on that mantle must also realize what comes with that in terms of finding a husband.

if your m.o. is to be tough/bitchy/attitudy/overly sassy/a mean girl then you have to understand what that means for your dating prospects. you have to be cognizant of how men perceive you.

let me give an example ya'll can identify with.: a friend of a friend is in her mid-30's and wants to be married. she's fly, attractive and doing it real big in her field. she's won lots of awards for her work. but she's also very brisk, curses a whole lot, and generally abrasive. and she don't want to change. she say she is who she is and that men oughta take her as she is.

i can get wit that on some levels. you are who you are. people can take it or leave it. don't go changing for the world. the man who can love you for you will come along. right?

WRONG. this is the lie, the falsehood, the myth that SBWs have bought into. you can't have it all. do you wanna be married or do you wanna stay the way you are and do what you wanna do for the rest of your life? either choice is fine but you can't do both. being in a relationship and/or married requires compromise, change over time. being less of yourself at times so your partner can be more. i'm not saying you have to do a 180 change to get a man but you can't continue to be every single fiber of who you are without some reflection on how every single fiber of who you are has (or has not) worked for you in terms of finding a man. and if finding a man is your priority you might have to change a fiber or two.

take michelle obama, the SBWs poster child for seemingly being able to have it all. michelle couldn't be the high powered executive and the FLOTUS. just wasn't gonna happen. she couldn't even be the local politician's wife and the big law firm partner at the same time for that matter. when barack decided he wanted to run she had to decide what she was gon do. the new supporting role she was gonna have to play for the family. she couldn't be running shit her way. she couldn't be resistant to change. right now she's sitting down while he stands up. that's part of the compromise of saying to yourself, i wanna be part of a we instead of just unchanged me.

or take ms. nicole from the video: prosecuting attorney, running for state court judge, atlanta falcons cheerleader, drives a benz, lightskinneded, long hair, unmarried, no boo in sight. she is doing the MOST. when she gonna have time for a man? cause men want to feel wanted and important. to know you have time for them in your life. that you aren't running all over the place (or so i'd imagine). nicole might wanna talk to some of her married friends and change some things. or not.  just keep doing what you been doing.

or other black woman who said she met a white man, they vibed over drinks and conversation. she thought to herself, "oh he's gonna ask for my number." but he didn't. another woman suggested she shoulda asked for his. "no! i don't do that." and you remain alone. why don't you "do that"? has not "doing that" been working for you thus far? you might wanna consider changing things up. if you're not comfortable asking for a number, suggest another outing. slip him your business card with your number. CHANGE what you normally do. or not. and be who you are. but don't expect different results.   you can't do both.

what say ya'll?

Reality Check!

I didn’t know that black women were facing their own epidemic; but now thanks to the media creating and reporting the news I am now informed! But I feel the media has missed the true story here, the breaking news isn’t that black women aren’t able to find black men, but that they are being plagued by bitterness. Teeth are being sucked, eyes rolled and necks snapped as men with Cornrows and cars without automatic windows dare to speak to educated and travelled women. The bitterness is spreading! Bitterness that once was reserved for disgruntled divorcees (think Angela Bassett in Waiting to Exhale) who had given their all to a man who kept it moving. Now this black plague has twenty-something professional ladies getting upset that the perfect black man hasn’t yet come to claim them. Especially after we have been building a perfect world for him to complete with his presence. After he finished school, dated Heather, Kim Lee and Maria! We’ve been patiently waiting, but if these men are trying to leave us alone in the worlds we created (think Angela Bassett in Waiting to Exhale with gasoline and matches). And with perspectives like these I guess Bitch is the New Black; which is a sad sentiment to begin with, but it gets even sadder when a twenty-something in a metropolitan area is saying it! I truly believe a simple reality check could cure this ailment of evil in these single, fabulous black women on the verge of bitter coldness!

Now, Amaretto Jenkins would be remised if I didn’t acknowledge the fact that life hasn’t happened the way most of us imagined it would. Even though I am an 80s baby I feel like dating on the road to marriage should follow something from a 1950s atlas. But 60 years later, most of us aren’t marrying our high school or college sweethearts. And most of us don’t have our grandmothers trying to set up with that fine Johnson boy from down the street. Oh how nice and so much easier that would be. But with integration, education, drugs and a whole host of other issues in the Black community the definition of a family changed and many of us women folk learned to make it, be it by a thread, on our own pr with the support of our Sister girl circles. But like I said I am an 80s baby so I feel like I should have something that looks like the Huxtables in which we are both professionals co laboring in building a household and raising children. And since the Cosby show was a top rated show for years, I know I am not the only black woman walking around with this expectation for herself. But alas, that was a scripted television show. Which means, that just like fairy tales, it came from someone’s creative warehouse...not reality!


But a lot of us took Claire’s example and went running. We got our degrees, homes, cars, fabulous closets full of stuff. We became well rounded women, but at the end of this we expected our Cliff to be there with his degree, home, cars and money to fill our closets with more fabulous stuff. But many of us are finding that there isn’t a Cliff there to meet us. And well many of us are feeling some type of way about that. After all, we have done our part, gone and gotten of these things, prepared a perfect world and yet there is no comparable Yang to balance out our fabulous Yin! And so the panic creeps in. Because the men we do recognize as our Cliff’s don’t want us…for whatever reason.

But the reality is that Cliff brought more to Claire’s table than just his profession or the material things that made up their home. Granted on the show Cliff and Claire were high school sweethearts, but the reality was that they were co labors who established a covetable household. If Cliff had been plumber and she an attorney would it not have worked if all things were still equal? Things like his belief system, how he handle his finances, how he wanted to raise children, how he wanted to contribute to the community, how he communicated and showed he loved her? Not to get all MLK about it, but shouldn’t women folk be judging men on the content of their character and not the contents of their wallets.

This news special made it statistically clear that Black men aren’t walking down the same paths into the adulthood that Black women take. And now that I think about it, I never hear black men alluding to the Cosby show as much as black women folk tend to. In fact black men seem to be ascribing to the Obama approach to relationship and families. I guess because they are real tangible people who have had struggles and probably will continue to struggle to make it work. But with women folks walking around with these ideas of the perfect man being able to match her dollar for dollar can they end up any way other than bitter? The reality is that black men aren’t making those same leaps into the professional world at the same time or with the same frequency that Black women are. Michelle Robinson was further along in her career and making more money when Barack Obama asked her out… if Michelle had allowed bitterness to seep in whilst she got her degrees and started her career... what example would many of the black children have today of male/female relationships-ain’t no more Cosby shows on Thursday nights! Right? Right!

I don’t think successful black women on the verge of bitterness need to settle, you can be with a man who complements you not mirrors you. And the reality today is hooking and marrying professional young black men of equal elk is like winning the lottery, because there are so many more of us than them. So where does that leave us? With the reality that we might have to change some of the expectations that we have in our heads. We all want to end up with Cliffs, but if we are called to marriage we have to trust that the right man for us will meet us where we are-be it our momma's house or on a weekend get away with our Sister circle.

If we flee from bitterness and become to open to accept the reality of today's dating world we can read books about Bitch is the New Black and laugh because it’s funny, not because it’s true!


See You In Seven

Me, Myself and I

Localicious, do you watch Girlfriends? I’m asking Localicious because I know that she’s definitely our one reader. Lol. No, I’m kidding. Everyone out there, do y’all watch Girlfriends? Do you remember how after Toni married Dr. Todd, she found out that he was broke and deep in debt – which meant they were in deep debt, and yet she went out and bought this ridiculously expensive purse? That was kinda selfish.

And while Toni was never the most generous person, she definitely didn’t try to make any significant character changes once she got married. I mean ideally it should happen before you got married as you’re working on you (heh), but definitely after you got married, you should start learning the word sacrifice. And compromise. And wrong.

Anyway. I have been thinking about how one can become set in their ways. Settled in their singleness. Comfortable being companionless. I know an older woman who has never been married, who rarely dates, who recently got asked out by a seemingly nice man. And she hesitated. And seemed kinda annoyed by it. Like how dare he come all up in my space, wasting my time, asking me out on a date. Now, here I am at 28, like SQUEAAALLL!!! Are you gonna go? What are you gonna wear? And so on. And she’s looking at me like, “chile please.”

And as I get older and roam this Earth alone and start not really minding that I’m alone, I wonder, what will happen if someone comes into my life? Will I be able to consider someone else’s feelings? I mean the last time I was in a real relationship, if I came home from dinner and had leftovers – I hid them in the vegetable crisper cause I didn’t want to share!!!! That’s kinda selfish. Lol.

And um I’m still that same person. Probably worse now cause I really haven’t been with nobody in forever. But when there’s no one to hold a mirror to your relationship behavior, how do you know how you’ll be? Or how do you know that you'll be better than you used to be? And if you do know the things that you should change, your growth opportunities as it were, is it worth trying to become a better person when it feels like you might be alone for what seems like infinity?

And so then I was thinking about how maybe, perhaps, people who get all used to being single, alone, by they damn self, end up missing their blessing because wrapped up in their comfort can be routine and resistance. The routine of going from work to home to work to church to home to gym to work to hanging with the same friends to work to home. Vacation! Work to home to work. Resistance to newness. Resistance to changing one's self, or character, or circumstances. Or even just stepping out there into the unkown.

Cause being alone, even though there can be gripes and complaints, is easy. You know what to expect when it's just you. You don't have to answer to anybody. Or ask somebody what they want to eat. And then cook it. You know where you keep everything. And you know how you like everything kept. And you don't have "time" (that's in air quotes cause in reality you do have the time) or patience for no one to come messing things up. But maybe that's all just a front cause you're afraid of being part of a two cause you know that ish is hard. That is ish takes work. That ish takes all of you.

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

You get the live, long version, cause Sony won't let me put up the video which I love! Shaking my fist at the man!

words of wisdom for road weary women

over the weekend, i got into one of my bi-monthly funks.  you know how you just get annoyed with everything and everybody.  on saturday i was kinda feelin that way.  i was a lil sick and tired of living the single life.  f' what you heard. sometimes a woman needs the comfort of a man.  not sporadically but every day of the week.  to come home to.  to build with.  to pour all your love into.  or at least to accompany you to the late night spot to dance to ?uestlove on the turntables until the sun comes up.  i'm just sayin...

i see you over there giving me the side eye like, isn't this the same chick who a few weeks ago was talking that "single women ought to stop focusing on the ring, the dress, the flowers, the chapel, the status, the "married" box on applications, age, mamanem, being the last one, a house full of cats, dying alone, and all those other foolish images that spring into their heads when they get all worked up about not being married....and DO YOU!"

yes that was me.  and i still believe that women shouldn't be hunting marriage for marriage's sake.  marriage aint all its cracked up to be.  and what snapped me outta my funk this weekend was a call from a male friend of mine.  he got married this past june and is now feeling like his marriage is falling apart.  as i listened to him vent i had a couple of thoughts:

what that got to do wit me?

damn gina....you aint made it 6 months!!

ima need people to stop, look, pray, & discuss before they leap into marriage 

after talking to him, i let out a long sigh of relief.  despite all the challenges of being single, at least i don't have the headache of being legally tied to someone who i'm having second thoughts about sharing the rest of my life with.

and then, as i  usually do when i need to vent, i talked to rum punch about it and she made me feel soo much better.

me: yeah, ima just gon head and be single for [insert indefinite time period here] 
rum punch: lmao, that really made me laugh

me: craziness all around

rum punch: well you'll be single, until you’re not single cause someone worth your time will make u not wanna be single :-)

words to live by!

Dam, dam, dam James

So last week Dark & Stormy, y’all remember her right? Riight. Anyway. Last week she sent me this blog post. So basically the writer starts off talking about how beavers "pair up for life and take on the world, with its harsh environment and lurking predators, together." You know building dams and such.

The writer goes on to discuss how her grandparents were married at 20 years old, lived in a room in one of their parents’ home, had kids, saved enough money to buy some land that they leased out and then, "they basically went all beaverish in a rural outpost in the southwest corner of Georgia. They 'dammed up' some land and made a living for generations to come. " And then she wonders if in a day and age when everyone has to have their ish together before they take that big step – will our generation see our golden anniversaries? I mean let’s keep it real, will we see silver anniversaries?

Now anyone who knows me in real life, knows that in an ideal world, I’m all about building dams. So when I expressed my glee over this post, Dark & Stormy said, “but aren’t you doing the exact opposite?” Which is true – I have an undergrad degree, a grad degree, a real ‘job’, bout to be homeowner, etc., etc. And I said, “sure by design. Cause I have to eat. And I’m tired of living at my mama’s house. But if someone I really wanted to marry was like ‘yo let’s get this money TOGETHER,' I’d be all over it.” And I would. But that's not my reality right now.

Now usually when I lament the single life on this here blog, I tend to get a tad overly“bitter” and sorrowful. This is mainly done for effect. I mean it’s like I do be feeling this way, but I don’t stay feeling this way. It’s usually a passing feeling cause something seemingly dramatic has happened in my life to trigger that emotion. And I'm operating on a heightened level and y'all get to hear all about it on Friday! But…

As I get closer to being a homeowner and have been the roller coaster ride that is the home buying process, I realize there’s a reason why people wait til they’re a two to buy a home. There’s a reason why it’s just couples on the HGTV show House Hunters – notice the plural. And why the other HGTV show Property Virgins usually features newlyweds looking for their “dream” home. This house hunting/buying/owning mess is hard. No, it’s arduous. It’s annoying. Frustrating. Oh how I wish I could say, “honey. I have to work. Could you meet the home inspector?” Or, “honey. I’ma need your half of the money for that down payment.” Or, "honey. Can you believe the ish the seller is putting us through? Let's cry on each other's shoulders..."

And when I am going through, all up in, with what has got to be the biggest moment in my life thus far, when I must press on as a one, it makes me feel so conflicted. I’m proud of myself for taking this huge step, but at the same time, I’m like um should I really be taking this huge step alone? Like for real. Do I really need to own a home by myself at the ripe old age of 28? It’s not like I have kids who need a back yard to play. My parents aren’t kicking me out the house. But it feels like, if not now, (when interest rates are low and Obama is handing out 8 stacks) then when? When someone comes to sweep me off my feet and take me away from all this? Ha. These aren't the good ol’ days when people go courtin’ on they porches.

And then I get a little sad cause this is the reality for so many single, childless Black women, who unlike our white counterparts who think them being unmarried is a fluke and the one is still out there – we stop thinking there is a one all together.* And move on accordingly. Climb that corporate ladder. Be that church lady who stay going to everythang. Dress up wayy too fancy to be going out to Friday night dinners with just the girls. Travel the world with our sorors. Become some lil' child's play auntie.** We press on, heads held high, refusing to settle. Still holding out to be wives first, then mothers. Find ourselves dealing with silly nigs on the daily who aren’t ready to build dams together. And yet when we complain about the loneliness/fearfulness/wtf of our situation for two seconds, two seconds, we hear the same, “girl, live yo' life” refrain.

And so we go and do just that. Live our lives. And try to build our own dams alone. The best we can. But sometimes on the hard days, when there's no one to turn to. No one's shoulder to cry on -and daddies don't count. Mamas don't count. Best friends don't count. No one to bring you some wood to contribute to the dam. When you take inventory of your life - and like a never been married 50ish year old woman at Bible Study said the other night, "you go to your empty home on a Friday night and you ain't got no man, no kids, and you working a job you hate. Well..."

Well it's enough to make you want to give up the ghost, put down your wood, walk away, throw up both your hands and scream, damn, damn, damn James! I can't do this no mo'! And then you regroup. Take a deep breath. Return to your senses. And go back to building your life. And take comfort in knowing that you can hire some people to come help you move some of this wood.

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

*My homegirl just told me, "I wonder if I can get used to this, being lonely forever."
** This might be its own post, but I think it's all downhill for single, Black women when we start to be someone's play auntie. Next thing you know 18 years have passed and we're still sending them birthday cards and putting their school pictures on our mantle.

Just cause it's Friday!

When A Woman's Growed Up

So most times I try to operate from the place that God knows my needs and what I can handle. I like to call this, “God knows what’s up.” This mantra is apparent in the big things like when my life is spared or when a lesson is learned. It can be less obvious in the things that seem to have no clear answer for someone who can't tell the future, like when I ruminate on why I’m still single and ain’t got no huzband. And then little scenarios like the ones below give me pause.

So I know a lady, let’s call her Paula. So Paula has a son, who’s 9 years old. She and the son’s father, aka baby daddy (Steven) are not currently and have never been married. However, Steven did want to marry Paula for the longest time. Even put a ring on it. But Paula preferred being out in the skreets and had Steven on a string, until he cut that string, and married the first available chick who came strutting by. And since they are in the A, it didn’t take long. So Steven and new chick, (Tanya) get married. Cool right? I mean blended families are a thing of the Brady Brunch. And every other weekend ain’t no thang.

Well Paula loses her job. And she stays unemployed for awhile. A good while. Like at least a year and still going while.. And the whole time she’s been unemployed, Steven is paying for everything. Everything? Everything. © Katt Williams. Her rent, her bills, her lifestyle. Now one could make the argument that he has to take care of his son, and Paula is just an extension of that responsibility. But one could also make the argument that Paula is a grown ass woman and that supporting her for up to 3 months was cool, but once month 4 hit, lil youngin’ is moving in with us and her ass is grass.

But see that’s my single, selfish side talking. That’s my, y’all weren’t even married, it’s not like you owe her alimony, so I'm out this motha cause I can do bad all by myself (all royalties to Tyler Perry) talking. Cause maybe from the view from here, I can’t see the forest for the trees.

Maybe I don’t know what it’s really like to be all deep down in the muck and mire of being a two. To put aside selfishness and finger snapping and neck rolling for the good of the team. Maybe this thing called marriage is really about compromise. Maybe it’s about not stepping on a landmine and saying, “Nygga you done lost your mind if you think that money that could be spent on this household is goin to pay for that heffa to get her hair and nails done,” knowing good and well that he loves his son, would do anything for him, even if that means making the mother of his child a kept woman – as my mom put it. Maybe it’s about understanding that being a single Black woman is not the business, so once you found a good man (and trust me Steven is a good man and FOINE) you gotta hold on to what you got and make it work.

Now I’m not saying if I were married I still wouldn’t think this scenario was pure craziness. And wouldn't be giving Paula my inner side eye and emailing her job posts on a daily basis. I mean I’m Rum Punch through and through. But when I look at the complexities of this situation, all the layers, the unkowns that could happen once you finally commit, it makes me realize that I still got some growing to do. Not just so I can get me a huzband, but cause that's just how this thing called life goes. And that's what's up.

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

What Say You Courviser? Pt. 4

"It has been a while now. You need to start dating... you know seeing other men." (chuckle)

For the past week, this has been said to me at least once a day and it makes me chuckle. It makes me chuckle because when I think about women my age dating there is only one common goal. Most ladies in their mid to late twenties are looking for the ONE. The man to settle down with and start a family. Whereas I, on the other hand, am not interested in that at all at the moment. I guess you can say... been there, done that. It is funny because I liken myself sometimes to a divorcee in her early forties. My energy is completely focused on the other aspects of my life and I am okay with the thought of not being with someone right now.

Don't get me wrong, I am not saying I don't want someone to spend the rest of my life with but I understand that I may not have that and I have had to come to terms with it. I have experienced married life at its best and at its worst, for both I am truly grateful. Sometimes, I feel like there is a very limited supply of decent, single men to choose from for my fellow single ladies. Who am I to enter back into this rat race? Give someone else a chance. (chuckle) You don't REALLY know what marriage is like until you have been married. (not shacking up... MARRIED)

So although, I still hope to find someone to share my life experiences with however, I am not eager like I use to be. I am comfortable. There is no rush. And yes, I will start dating again but not for the reasons that you would like me to. I am not going date to find a replacement but because I found someone of true interest. Which in the meantime, may appear like I am not open to dating or open to loving again but believe me it is not.

Much luv until next week... peace:)

Mind Your Business Lady!

Okay, so I have more work fodder for you folks. Sorry, it seems the only things I have opinions on are work related these days. Here’s to hoping that Al Sharpton will do something interesting that I can comment on in the next 7 days. Until then….

Let me tell you about my cubicle neighbor.

She’s one of those Black women who has been through the fire and been through the flood. A sistagirl who is well into her fifties, loves the Lord and will tell it like it T-I-tis! When my department first relocated to our new office space, she came over to my desk and said: Hi, I’m Betty Lou. I just wanted to introduce myself because I’ll be all in your business and I know you are going to be all in mine. Hmmm, I said to myself-I’m not nosey…but okay thanks for the warning. And as if her forewarning of privacy invasion (a la the Patriot Act) wasn’t enough, I didn’t tell you how she had on a fuchsia leopard print pant suit with matching shoes and scrunchy securing her yanky ponytail to her head. But again, we are talking about a fuchsia leopard print pant suit! At work! How is that okay? But different strokes for different folks, not everyone likes to wear black and white everyday like I do.

And given this characterization of Betty Lou, I really should not have been surprised when she decided give me her 5 cents, when 2 would have been enough. I walk into the office thinking about how I am a good person and I am more than my job when Betty Lou starts telling me that she thinks I need to buy Steve Harvey’s book Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man because, she knows I’m single.

Um excuse me? How does she know what I is and ain’t? Aside from the occasional “Bless You” after a sneeze or slight comment about how cold the office is (cause those folks like it that way) we don’t talk. I’m not going to Betty Lou’s cube to tell her about my weekend and how I spent most of it hoping some man would call me back…and asking her what that means.

And maybe Betty Lou was just being friendly. Maybe trying to prevent another black woman from falling into the pitfalls many single ladies find themselves in. But sometimes I find that every Black lady (married or not) wants to advise you on how to get, trap and or keep a man, all under the guise of “Baby, I’ve been there, done that.” And while it’s nice to learn from our elders sometimes it’s hard for them to realize that it’s a new day…and beyond that…I ain’t you, so fall back! And another think that’s bothering me about it all is that would have Betty dared made the same suggestion if I was Anglo or Latino?

Maybe I’m just being over sensitive in this super PC world of ours. If it was 1959 I might have welcome Betty’s advice as we smoke cigarettes in our lead paint office. But in 2009, you can’t tell an older, well meaning Black woman to mind her own beaver damn business. Well actually, in 2009 you can, but Amaretto isn’t of the ghetto variety. So instead I told Betty I’d look into getting the book…I probably won’t but Betty doesn’t need to know that.


See You In Seven

The Loneliest Number

“I am not depressed!”

This was my Y-chromosome friend’s retort when I asked him if he would ever go see a movie alone.

Previously in life, I had similar foolish preconceived notions about being out and about in the world all alone. But since I still ain’t married, nor am I part of a couple I recently took myself to a matinee showing of a film I wanted to see because no one I knew was available. Folks, this was a huge step for me! Even though I’m an only child and can do things by my lonesome…movies are a different animal all together. I am that person who enjoys chatting it up when the movie starts…so I wondered what I was going to do to make it through 90 minutes in the dark with no one to share my insightful commentary with. I knew random strangers probably wouldn’t appreciate my “Oh no she didn’t!” exclamations…now that I think about it, I don’t even think my friends like it too much when I do that.

But anyway… To my surprise I had a great time. I laughed out loud and gasped when appropriate. I entertained myself with my witty commentary. All in all, it was like watching television at home. I’m just glad I didn’t miss my chance to do something that I wanted to do!

Though I have found that some men (and by some I really want to say most) have a problem with being all by their lonesome. Once, after church I went to Boston Market to get me chow on and as I was leaving I ran into my friend and his lady. Upon greeting me he started looking around behind me, he then inquired who I had come to eat with. I said no one. You could have knocked him down with a feather ya’ll. “You came here alone?! No one would have come with you?” Well then I explained that I didn’t ask anyone else to come along, but I decided to stop in because I was hungry. But he just couldn’t believe that I was there alone, or that I didn’t have the decency to get my food to-go and eat at home. Okay, of course he didn’t say the word decency…but it really bothered him I was there alone.

And just like my Y-chromosome friend who excused my solo tendencies as some crazy woman behavior. For a man to go out alone he must be disturbed or depressed. Foolishness. Now I haven’t graduated to dining and movie watching during peak date times. Nor have I made plans to vacation solo…yet. But why not? Not everyone is getting married or have friends who are available with shared interests. Like the poor, the single will always be among us. So lets stop assuming that person alone is a depressed, psychotic loser… and maybe just a person determined not to miss out on living.

See You In Seven

single woman's burden

I’m one of those women who likes to stay “friends” with exes. And when I say friends I mean call randomly from time to time just to see how said exes are making out in life. Most often my relationships start off on the friend level so I usually like to keep the “friend love” alive after we part ways.

One of these exes I call once every 6 to 12 months just to say hello. We went to law school at the same time so I’m especially interested in what he's up to professionally and like to keep the networking connection alive. Feel free to debate the utility of and justification for my random phone calls. Or whether I should expect him to still be taking my calls after 5+ years.

Usually when I call Mr. X, we talk about the legal job market, how much we love or hate our respective jobs and sprinkle in an “are you dating anyone?” for politeness. This time around, Mr. X had some news in the love department. Homeboy done jumped the broom! My first thought was damn Gina! Is everyone I know married, on their way down the aisle or actively looking? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a love hater. I love love, weddings and all that jazz. So I was genuinely happy for him. The curious kitty in me wanted to ask all kinds of questions like where’d you meet her, how long did ya’ll date, what she look like, married dude really? I asked none of these cause that would be creepy and weird. Instead I simply congratulated him and continued the conversation.

But in the way that married folks, boo-ed up sistafriends, and random black men do, he proceeded to hit me with the “Why are you still single?”

Boooo, Mr. X, booooooo! As if singleness was some disease to be cured. Some temporary state to be suffered through until you hooked up with someone and all your cares in life were erased.

I stumbled through the generic you know I’m just working on me man and the other obligatory men don’t get me. But looking back I wish I had said something a little bit more “Yaaa trick Yaaaa!”

My single ladies out there feel me. I held in my “Nigga why?” and just kept it civil. Cause that's what we as single women do. When asked, we retreat and feel ashamed for not having some magical I AM WOMAN answer. Maybe mofo's should stop asking cause actually it's kinda rude. Folks don't go around asking they obese auntie who's been adding on 25 lbs each year, why you still fat? That cousin we all got who only calls when he locked up looking for that bail money, yeah him? We don't ask him, Why you still broke?

Exactly! So how bout ya'll stop asking me why I'm still single?

the end.

Rescue Me!

Rescue me
Oh take me in your arms
Rescue me
I want your tender charms
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue
I need you and your love too
-Aretha Franklin

Okay, so this just might cause the authorities to come and take my strong independent woman card away but….

I WANT TO BE RESCUED DAMNIT!

I’m talking about me trapped in castle, bored out my mind and a man coming to save me. That’s right a man, on a big ole steed, swinging his saber, speaking with all sorts of “thees” and “thous” because he lived in a kingdom far, far away once upon a time…

Hmmmm. Note to self: I can’t read any fairy tales to my little ones. I mean I can’t contribute to their disappointment when they’re in their late 20s and ole boy ain’t show up and it’s well past CP time. I don’t want my girls becoming that “I don’t need no man, because I have rechargeable batteries” chick. Nor do I want them to end up like me in my extended singleness-just restless in my waiting.

I’m a survivor though. Not that singleness needs to be survived or anything…but I do wonder how many mo dinners with the girls I can endure. I mean I love them, but I also need some positive reinforcement and the occasional fawning session. And well when you and your girls all get dressed and all look cute respectively…none of them are going to get a gleam of pride in their eye seeing you in your freak ‘em dress or DAYUM girl! Shoes. Nope. Everyone just sits at the table, sipping on their drinks listening for the pitter patter of horse feet, waiting, hoping and praying that a prince will soon come to bring about their great escape.

I don’t know if its our impatience, our drinks or just sheer boredom that causes us to hop down with men riding little ponies. I do know that after saddling up with prince too old, too young, too hard, too soft, too lumpy and too dumby I still long for the one that’s just right. Somewhere out there is a man on a steed and I’m ready to hear him say…

“My Lady, I am here to save you from your prison of boredom. I’m rescuing you with my world views, dreams, and my ability to make you laugh you’re a$$ off.”

Oh yes ya’ll! This damsel is falling out that window and into his arms…and off into the sunset we go…

*Sigh*

Okay. I’m tripping. Let me call up some my girls and see if anyone’s trying to do dinner. Lawd, I can’t wait to tell them about this prince charming rescuing me mess! I’m silly. I don't need saving. My girls got plenty of world views, dreams, and jokes to have me laughing happily ever after.

See You In Seven

hook a sista up

In love and life, there are universal truths. Mantras. Standard operating procedures, if you will. Certain things that everybody just knows. Rules that aren't written down anywhere but that everybody is just expected to live by.


For women, it’s THE CODE.


Now depending on where you come from, THE CODE could involve any number of situations but generally when women speak of THE CODE they are referring to that unspoken universal truth that if your sistafriend has dated, slept with, liked, or potentially liked a guy...



he is OFF LIMITS to you!



As a general principle most women can get down with this but in practice the slope gets a little slippery. As with any law, it’s all in the application.



How long you known this sistafriend? Is she really yo sistafriend, homegirl, best buddy, acquaintance or your co-worker on your part-time night job who you sometimes go to chipotle with for burritos? Did you and ole' boy ever date? How long ago did you date said guy? How did it end? Did he ever get it in and if so how often and how good was the gettin it in? Are you still drunk off the D? Did you just stalk . . . errr like him from afar or did you let that brotha know you was feelin’ him? Was he feelin’ you and you just didn’t reciprocate (yet)? Most importantly, what does sistafriend know about any of this? Or is he FINE enough to let THE CODE slide just this once cause a man is a man is a man and every woman betta speak up or not get fed? The permutations are endless.



Perhaps a “hypothetical” is in order to illustrate the contours of THE CODE.



Say you meet a guy, we shall call him Bryan. Bryan is nice, friendly, intelligent, educated and willing to take you out and show you the city. On paper, Bryan is any SBW’s dream: no kids, owns his own home, stable job. So what's the problem right? Well, despite the fun ya'll have together, you don’t like him “like that.” Yeah, yeah I know beggars can't be choosers but you don't feel a strong attraction to him. And you prefer to keep the relationship strictly friendly, although you’re pretty sure that Bryan likes you.



You tell your friend Leslie about Bryan and how you like hanging with him but that you’re not feeling him beyond the friendship level although he stay trying to push up. You’ve known Leslie for several years and consider her to be one of your best friends. Leslie comes to visit you for some weekend debauchery and on Friday night you, Leslie, Bryan and some other irrelevant characters to this hypothetical hang out. During the night, you notice a little extra something between Bryan & Leslie but you chalk it up to harmless flirting, after all you yourself have been on the receiving end of Bryan’s advances. The next evening you end up on the town again, tearing it down with Bryan & Leslie plus the irrelevants. Once t'again your spidey sense alerts you to the vibe between Bryan & Leslie. By the night’s end, Bryan & Leslie ride off to kick it while you head back to the crib to crash in a drunken haze. By weekend's end, it's clear that Bryan & Leslie have just embarked on a "new relationship."



WWABWD?



What would the Average Black Woman Do? Stab a bitch in her baby toe for fucking with your possible, back pocket dude? Not give a fuck, cause Bryan wasn't that cute (to her) and she wasn't feelin him anyway? Silently sulk for 1.5 years until Bryan & Leslie announce they gettin' married and then blow them both away in a rage of unspoken envy? Or stand up at their wedding and give a toast reminiscing about how she brought the happy couple together...black love ya'll black love!



To some THE CODE, under art. 6.9, strictly prohibits Leslie's poach. To others, the advisory notes of the Committee on Black Womanhood to art. 6.9 allow Leslie's behavior as long as she runs it by her girl first. Under what circumstances is this situation kosher (if ever)? And must one check with her girl first before crossing that line?



You ask 10 different women and you might get 10 different answers or 8 servings of hell naw with 2 sides of gurl stop, I will cut a bitch if she even tries!



What say you?

Who Chose Who

Last week, I became quite enthralled by the comments that followed a post over at verysmartbrothas.com about why women should or should not approach men they are interested in. Many comments forced me to quickly glance at the calendar to remind myself that the current year is indeed 2008. Ultimately I arrived to the following conclusion:

Is it really that serious?

In the 200+ comments to the post, the majority of both men and women said that they felt men should always do the approaching. One chick went so far as to say it doesn't matter if a woman catches a man staring [in that obvious "I wanna get wit you" way] and admiring, the woman should not budge or speak until ole' boy steps up to the plate. Coincidentally, she's single.

Another comment read:

"I like for men to initiate first because if I do it and get into a relationship with them, its most likely that I will be making all the decisions instead of as a couple. Men have gotten real lazy nowadays. We have to give birth to their kids, clean the house, cook dinner, etc. Now we have to ask them out???? I'm sorry but that's not my job."

Wow... Slow ya roll sista. She made a jump from initiating conversation/contact with a brother to getting into a relationship with a lazy man who is incapable of making decisions. Is it that serious? How many first impressions/conversations/dates lead to a relationship? Millions more don't than do. Is this how sistas are thinking these days? You see a dude strolling down the street and you start admiring his swag and his tight sneakers... You start to smile at him, then you stop yourself because you start thinking "if I initiate this won't be no time before homie moves his unemployed ass into my house, running up my light bill and eating up all my food."

You may think I'm reaching far here, but just yesterday I watched the women I was dining with rag on some brothas for wearing a crisp white T to a casual restaurant for Sunday brunch. These were some clean looking men, nothing scrubby about them... Coulda been law students out getting their grub on before heading back to the library. Or maybe they were checking out a few open houses in the neighborhood (most are on Sundays) and got hungry while house hunting. Maybe we are worrying about the wrong things and missing out on the good shit while doing so?

Before I get off subject, which is fairly easy for me, let me clarify what kind of initiation I feel is acceptable. If I see a man that catches my attention, why wait for him to approach me? What is so wrong with me approaching him and starting a conversation? Maybe his mind was occupied with something or he just wasn't facing my direction... Just because he hasn't approached me doesn't mean he is not interested or would not be interested once he knew I actually existed. I can make my presence known, and possibly my interest, with a smile here and a giggle there...

If Mr. Man wants this convo to go any further, then he knows what to do to make that happen. I'm not going to ask him for his number or when I can see him again. Me chasing him is not an option. But ain't nothing wrong with tossing a lil' incentive his way just to get the ball rolling.

If we were discussing pursuing a career or finding your dream home or going back to school for an advanced degree, everyone would be like go get yours. But when it comes to a man, we [women] are supposed to sit back and wait for him to magically roll in with the afternoon tide? Why not go get yours? Are we so afraid of rejection that we'd let a possibly good thing pass just to save face?

When you meet a happy couple, doing the damn thing and holding it down for each other, have you ever asked them "who chose who?"

Exactly. 'Cause it ain't that serious.


Tumultuously Yours,
Dark & Stormy


(Inspired by vsb's post found here http://www.verysmartbrothas.com/f-sadie-hawkins/)

I'm Living the Single, Single Life

This week Amaretto wrote about Secret Single Behavior also known as SSB. When I commented to her post I mentioned that I had been single for so long that I question if I’ll even know how to do the basic things like share or listen or be thoughtful.

There is plenty o’truth to this. I have already accepted a lot of things about myself, first and foremost, my selfish tendencies. And since it’s been just me, myself and I for years and years and years (ok maybe it’s only felt that lonnnngggg) I have had plenty of time to do some self analysis. Which I guess is a good thing. Especially since everything and everyone feels the need to tell me that I’m single for a reason. A. I need to get myself together, get to know myself. B. I need to figure out what I want in a relationship. C. I need to learn about me. D. When I’m ready and have myself together then my man will come. Hmmmm…

These have always seemed like bullshit reasons to me. But you know whatever. The truth of the matter is that I have been reflective, but it’s not because I was purposely thinking that if I do x,y,z, get to know myself, know myself then I will get a man. And now that I’ve said that, let me just say that getting to know you can be slightly overrated. Don’t say that Rum Punch! Dammit I said it. I think I know me by now. I have been to dinner, shows, museums, and a rack of other shit by myself. I have been immersed in my own thoughts. I have learned how to be alone. Now where is my man dammit? Or do the people who belong to the 'the reason(s) you don't have a man...' school of thought have more mountains for me to climb before my man allegedly comes?

Oh I can’t have those thoughts? Is it wrong to have those thoughts? Is it wrong to admit that shit sometimes I am lonely? Sometimes I am tired of myself all the damn time. Mainly because I know that I’ll be with myself until I die. I know that admitting these things is not “politically correct” so to speak. But I went to the Katt Williams show last week (by myself) and one of the opening acts, a female comedian named Leslie asked, “Where all my single women at?” Cheers from the audience. And then she called us some lonely bitches. And said our theme song should be, “If you think you’re lonely now then wait until tonight, and tomorrow, and Monday, and Tuesday, etc, etc.” And she said something about us single (love to claim we independent) women having that break down and being like “Why am I still single? Lord, you said if I tithed you’d send me a man…” Oh you had to laugh to keep from crying. Because the truth is there are a myriad of reasons for one’s singleness and they don’t always have to fit under that ‘get to know and love yourself' or the 'you must be doing something wrong, if you still single' umbrellas. I’m just saying.

I personally think that I am single because God is keeping me from having to cuss someone out. I mean I have been approached by some straight fools. Straight fools! And I think that God is doing me a favor by showing me these fools and helping work out in my mind what I’m truly looking for. You know since I already know all about myself. Now I can focus on the other side of that coin, errr relationship.

However, I suppose my true fear is not that I’ll be single for years and years and years. But that I won’t be. That I’ll get in a relationship and won’t know what to do. A part of being with myself all the time is that I have learned how to do for self. And I wonder will I be able to actually let someone do something for me? Cause it’s been so long. As this singleness "drags" on there becomes a comfort in being single. Since I know myself and I know what I'm going to do, there are no surprises. Feeling hungry? Well let me go get me something t'eat... Want to see this show? Well let me go ahead and get me a ticket, no need to plan or think of logistics. Want to eat all of that and not have to share with anybody? Go ahead, it's yours! Oh but throw another person in the mix and it's like, "You wanna do what? You wanna eat where? You want some of my what? And I gotta wait on your ass."

I suppose it's about finding that balance. Truly enjoying this time that you have alone, to be "free", to travel and visit friends, to see shows and plays and all black orchestras with your girlfriends without feeling sad about it. Without always looking over your shoulder like, "ok how long do I have to do the by myself thing? Is that my man standing right behind me?" To learn how to truly live my life like it's golden, golden. Because even after I have gotten myself together, learned all about myself, done me, it still might just be me. And I gotta love me. Cause I'm all I got!

That’s my time y’all! Happy Rum Punch Friday!

You're My Little Secret

So they are finally getting that Sex and the City Movie made and released. Okay! Two cheers for reconciliation between Sarah and Kim…all for the greater good of dollar, dollar bills ya’ll! Let the debauchery begin! *humming the theme the song in my head* Let the ugly clothes be paraded-
Yikes! Get me my cosmopolitan and let Carrie annoy with her questions until the end of time… Go Samantha, get your freak on! Go Charlotte, get you a baby! Go Miranda, you’re a lesbian!

But truth be told, I, like Oprah, love that show. And once it started getting played on the WB, er a CW it made it hard to go to bed before 11. I mean I just had to know what compromising positions those gals were going to get into next. Like when Carrie walked in on Samantha giving the delivery guy a blow job. Hilarious! Carrie dating the Russian…early bird specials anyone? That relationship was just nasty. Or when Charlotte dated that man who was more feminine than she. Tee hee! And how about Miranda pretending she was gay to get ahead at her law firm… Art imitating life? Hmmmmm.

But one of the bestest episodes, in my own personal opinion, was that one about secret single behavior (SSB). Sometimes, as I sit in my room combing my hair so it sticks up like a troll doll (hey, it's lucky), I wonder at what point does a person care and share some of the things they do when no one is watching? I know I like eating peanut butter and jelly directly out of the jar. And I play the same song on my CD player back to back for about an hour. Why? Because I have to sing along. Then create an interpretive dance. And then sing and dance at the same time for my adoring fan base comprised of stuffed animals and pillows. And don’t get me started on playing dress up in my own clothes. Or the fact that sniff tests are conducted more often than I care to admit when deciding what to wear. None of these things I think are weird, like sleeping with a raw chicken under my pillow, but how will I be able to hide these truths, that are bound to be self evident? What happens to SSB when a single becomes part of a couple? Does SSB dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore- Maybe it just sags like a heavy load. Yes, that was shameless borrowing from a much greater writer.

So what are some of your SSBs? Do you share them or not? If you do, at what point do you put yourself out there?

Ponder, marinate…or better yet comment.

See You in Seven