The Brown Paper Bag Test

As a daughter of the deep South, I am all too familiar with “The Brown Paper Bag Test.” For those of you who are unfamiliar, “The Brown Paper Bag Test,” derived from and was used by Blacks (particularly in the South) to determine if one Black person had “fair enough” skin to group them into a certain “class” of Blacks. I know…it sounds absurd, right? RIGHT! Absolutely! Nevertheless, Blacks have used this “test” to discriminate against their own time and time again.

Like I said…I am a child of the South and am sadly all too familiar with “The Brown Paper Bag Test.” Growing up, I would often here stories from elders discussing families that discriminated against their children’s choices of love interests or even friends due to their complexion. My own grandmother, a very fair-skinned Black woman, still tells the story of how she was alienated from her own paternal side of her family due to her choice to marry a brown-skinned man instead of passing for white or marrying a Black man with a lighter complexion. As troubling as this sounds, “The Brown Paper Bag Test” is still in full effect and I had a first hand look at it while visiting family over the holidays.

C’est Chic and I decided to go out on a Friday night to a friends birthday party. When we arrived there were nothing but familiar faces – many of whom we’d known from childhood or over the years. A group of us were sitting at the bar enjoying cocktails when a friend of some of the other girls’ walks into the party. A talk, dark brother (whom we’ll call Nigeria) proceeds to walk our way and stops to greet us with a very warm welcome. I’d personally never met the man but he was obviously an old friend of all the other ladies so I introduced myself.

Nigeria was friendly and generous – buying rounds of drinks for all. I must say…I was intrigued. Hell…I seem to LIVE in the dating lane these days and though Nigeria wasn’t much of a looker, he had a style and swagger about him that was reason enough to be curious. Anyways….as the night progressed, I noticed Nigeria giving me long glances and touching my shoulder or side whenever we were next to one another. Like I said, I didn’t mind because he was a friend of my friends and seemed like a nice guy. Towards the end of the night, Nigeria (whom had had quite a few cocktails himself) leans over to C’est Chic and says, “Your friend is gorgeous to me but she’s almost too dark.” In hearing this, all I could think was “What?!” I was so stunned by his comment that my mouth dropped and must have hung open for nearly a full minute. I could not believe my ears. Was this man saying that I was “almost” too brown skinned for him to consider dating? So many thoughts filled my mind but at the forefront was outrage. I was in shock because his statement just seemed to set Black people back by years! How absurd for a Black man to say that! I mean…I get having preferences. To each his own but to feel so bold as to say it out loud and in the presence of the person was just down right rude, in my opinion. On top of that was my outrage that this very dark-skinned man of African descent had the nerve to call me “too dark.” Was he serious?! He has to be 5 shades darker than me!! Even more infuriating is that there are still black people clinging to this idea that lighter skin somehow equates beauty. We should all be evolved enough to know that this is absolutely not the case. And like I said…have your preferences but the gall of you to note that I’m beautiful but nearly not worthy to date because of the shade of my skin!! So you date ugly light-skinned girls instead of beautiful brown skinned women? That’s just got stupid written all over it. And what kind of self-hate is that when you are obviously dark skinned. I could go on and on but needless to say, I was turned off instantly and attempted to tolerate his foolishness for the rest of the night without causing a stir in the group.

I can’t even articulate accurately how frustrated I was to hear his comments in 2008, the year the first Black President was elected in America. With ignorance going around like this, I can’t imagine Blacks have truly advanced as much as we give ourselves credit for.

So, I guess I didn’t pass the “test” this time and all I can say to that is…I’m Glad! I love my brown skin and wouldn’t trade it if I could. Like Tupac Shakur said, “The Darker the Flesh, The Deeper the Roots.”

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Background Check!

My New Year's Resolution for 2009: Invest in A Background Check on my Gentlemen Callers!
I've decided that I'm going to start doing background checks on the guys that I date. Not just any guy, mainly the ones that I start investing interest in. Let's see, hmmmm....after about the 3rd date, I think it will be safe to invest $29.99 and find out if he is actually worth my time.

The background check isn't to find out if he has a six figure income or if he lives in a house atop a hill. It is to find out if said guy is actually who he portrays to be! This bright idea didn't come about out of sheer nosiness or boredom. It is has come from a place of necessity. What is the likelihood of one single woman, becoming involved in some form or fashion with (3) married men, disguised as single men, in a 4 month period?! That has been the common theme in my dating lane experiences as of late.

I think it has most to do with the fact that most of the men I date, live in other cities. I used to think that dating men long distance was a good thing. The whole "absence makes the heart grow fonder" deal, coupled with the fact that I love SPACE, made dating long distance a-ok in my book. What I am beginning to learn in my older age, is that distance tends to allow more room for dishonesty. The distance allows some dishonest men (and I'm sure women as well) to live double lives. They can take a break from the monotony of their everyday lives and MARRIAGES and travel down south for a great time with a great girl.

In a conversation with one of the "wives" she brought to my attention that her husband stated to her in a recent email "Maybe I do want to be single sometimes...maybe I do want to meet a woman with no children who can get up and go whenever...maybe I do want to have an equal partner that actually brings something to the table, someone who dresses differently and has style and class." She actually sent me that email correspondence between the two of them. Doesn't this sound JUST like me?? Am I now someone's conquest? I felt so sorry for her! She seemed so sweet and sounded so hurt when she found out that not only was he thinking of doing such, he actually WAS!

Out of the (3) of them, only (1) actually took me by surprise. The other two I haven't known for an extended period, and basically were still in the "getting to know you" phase. Though they each exhibited their own share of sketchy behavior that set off my inner alarm, it was nothing that would have led me to believe that they had WIVES. The exception, however, I have known for years and I was totally blind-sided and disappointed when I found at that he has been omitting the fact that he married the mother of his child. Lies of omission are still LIES. I can't help but think that if I would have done a little investigation, I would have known before hand that none of these guys were worth my time. Their representatives were in full effect and shielded the assholes that resided within. This is enough to make any sane woman crazy! I totally feel Jazmine Sullivan and understand why some women "Bust Windows Out of Cars!" As she says, "You may think it's juvenile, but I think I deserve a reason to smile."

So...All the Single Ladies...$29.99 is worth your time!

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The Drive By: Part III

I wept the entire way home. My mom didn't utter a word. She didn't have to, I knew that she was incredibly disappointed in me. That hurt almost as much as his betrayal. She drove me to my apartment and escorted me up the stairs to my bedroom. I had returned to infant mode. I sobbed as my mom undressed me and put on my night clothes as if I were a 3 year old child. She gave me some water and two little pills (Tylenol PM) to assist me in calming down. She brushed my hair back into a pony-tail and rubbed my head as I cried in her chest. I fell asleep that night in her arms...I cried my self to sleep.

I woke up at about 4am, puffy-eyed and hurting. I couldn't shake the overwhelming sulking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I HAD to know how we had gotten here. I thought our relationship was so strong. This was the only man I ever loved. I thought we would marry, have 2.5 children and live happily ever after. He was my FRIEND! How could he do this to me? I grabbed my cell phone and went into the bathroom. I saw that I had 6 missed calls. One was from my dad, but the other 5 were from Mr. 36. The text message that he left said "I love you, I'm sorry." The tears began to fall. I dialed his number. When he answered, I began to cry harder. "Come over, I want to hold you," he said. Without responding, I hung up. Went back into my bedroom, through on some sweats and snuck out of my own apartment like a teenager as my mother slept in the other room.

When I got to the house I used my key to enter. Just a few hours prior, I was raging with anger as I walked down the very same hallway that I now tip-toed down. The bedroom door was open and I stood at the side of the bed looking down on him as he slept. So many things were going through my mind at the moment. The strongest thing was to just slap the shit out of him a few times while he was defenseless. But my love for him wouldn't allow me to touch him in a violent. I threw myself on top of him as the tears started streaming again. For a few minutes we said nothing. He just held me and rubbed my back. "Why???" He ignored the question... "What have I done to make you want someone else?" No response..."Who is she, don't you know that she is the chick that hit me???" Dead Silence. He spoke not a single word. I fell asleep in a familiar place...one that I had fallen asleep in so many times before, but this time, I felt like I didn't belong.

My mom called the house bright and early that morning. I'm sure she knew where I had gone when realized that I was no longer in the house. I couldn't imagine the look on her face when she went in my room to check on me, only to see that I wasn't there. But I was soooo messed up mentally, I really didn't care what she thought. I NEEDED to find out what was going on with Mr. 36 and our relationship. I HAD to be in his bed...assured that no one else was.

We didn't speak of that night at all. I didn't ask anymore questions, after all, he wasn't answering them anyway. So I got on my Inspector Gadget duties and started snooping. I searched and searched and searched but yet I found nothing. I was so obsessed with snooping it was a shame. It was almost as if I WANTED to find out something bad. Coming up empty handed was NOT pacifying me. Even though things had been pretty much back to normal between the two of us, I was still convinced that he was cheating on me. I would dig through drawers, intercept emails, check phone messages, browse through the caller id....EVERYTHING. But no dice. It started to irritate him and it was irritating me as well! Hell. I couldn't fall asleep without sneaking to read his emails for the day.

That mentality lasted for weeks...hell months. I could not sleep anywhere BUT at his house, even those nights when he was out of town. I had become the overly needy/clingy girlfriend. I had to know his whereabouts at all times, I insisted on meeting up with him and his friends occasionally when they went out...my mission was to be omnipresent. I had become a slave to my own thoughts, and it was ridiculous.

Things were never the same after the drive by. Though we tried our best to establish a relationship of normalcy, our attempts were unsuccessful. I didn't trust him, he thought I was going crazy, and I even felt as if I was going crazy. No relationship can sustain such dysfunction.

The dynamics of our relationship changed on that fall night when I took it upon myself to drive-by my man's house. As I pulled into the complex that day, I had no idea how much that singular action would impact the rest of my life and the relationships to come. My lack of trust in men, my zero tolerance for b.s., my own emotional unavailability directly stems from that day many, many years ago and my decision to show up unexpectedly at his house. In that instant, I did not know the impact that my actions would have on my life of love. Had I known, I might have stayed at home. There is some peace in the unknown.

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The Drive By: Part II

I sat in the car for a few minutes in complete shock. Was I really seeing what I thought I was seeing? I tried to wrap my psyche around everything that was going on, but it was too much. I began to replay the accident back in my head...she was irate, I was apprehensive, she was cold and mean toward me and she ran into the back of me...intentionally?? The accident took place as I was leaving Mr. 36's crib...now her car is in his driveway? He didn't even come to the scene. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE??!! I had to know.

After sitting idle in the car for about a minute or two, I jumped out of the drivers seat and darted for his front door. The car was still running and my mom was left behind firmly saying my name, but I ignored her. I started banging on the door. My blood was BOILING. A light flicked on in the foyer leading up to the door. I heard footsteps, but was met with silence. He was looking through the peep hole.

"Open the damn door!", I yelled like a maniac. I banged harder, as if he would note my sense of urgency. It was unfounded; he still didn't answer. Then it hit me, I had a key! I ran back to the car, turned off the engine and yanked the keys. My mom was mumbling something, I guess she was trying to talk some sense into me, but it wasn't working.

I stomped back to the front door and started fiddling with the keys looking for the right one. My vision was hazy, my mind was cloudy, I was STEAMING! I couldn't think straight. Finding the key to his house would have normally been an easy job, especially given the fact that his key had a distinctive ring around it. But my mind was not thinking rationally. I finally found the key that fit perfectly and turned the lock...but the chain was on the door. I was so angry! I started cussing.

In the meantime, unknown to me, he was on the phone talking to my other as she sat in my car outside of the house. (That's another story in and of itself). She was basically telling him that I was outside, upset (as if he couldn't tell) and that it would be best if he came to speak to me as a man, instead of ignoring me. I didn't find out this little tidbit of information until lonnnnnnng after the incident.

Her speech to him must have worked, because he appeared moments later and unchained the door. "WTF is going on here!?" I asked. "Calm down baby, calm down," he said in a pacifying tone. "Don't you tell me to calm down, WTF is going on!!!!!!!!??????!!!!" Anyone who knows me well, knows that when I'm enraged, the storm follows tears....and the tears were streaming. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was trying to play peacemaker before the eye of the storm touched down.

He said some things to me along the lines of us having a lot to discuss, but not being able to get through to me in the condition I was in. He suggested that I go back home, get some rest, and we would meet for coffee in the am. I was peeping the scene. The lights in the living room and kitchen were off, which meant, he was upstairs in his bedroom or the game room. So, whomever the car belonged to was up there as well. SHE WAS IN HIS BEDROOM!?! "Uh Uh MFer, I ain't going NO DAMN WHERE!" With that said, I headed for the steps. He tried to stop me, but I was too fast. Taking two steps at a time, I ran up to his bedroom.

I flung open the bedroom door and began to assess the scene. The Play Station game was on pause at the far end of the room providing most of the light along with a candle that was burning on the nightstand. A Heineken bottle sat on the floor next to the bed alongside his cell phone and house phone, and a woman was at the foot of the bed putting on her pants. I was speechless. She looked up at me with an embarrassed look on her face and quickly looked back down at her pant leg. She picked up her purse whichT was sitting on his dresser and brushed pass me at the door. Headed for the front door, she rushed down the stairs, as if to escape the madness. I followed behind her calling her full government name. She peered back at me with agitated eyes. Yes, it was indeed her, the woman that caused the accident only days earlier. "Why are you here?", I screamed at her.(What a dumb question.) She didn't respond. I calmed my tone and re-asked the question. After all,no one wants to talk to a person when they are yelling at you. So I pretended to be calm and re-asked. "I asked you a question, please don't ignore me." She turned around, looked me dead in the face and said "Ask HIM why I'm here," and headed out of the door.

I generally don't deal with confrontation well, but it wasn't the normal me in this situation. I had been taken over by an outside force. Beyonce would call her Sasha Fierce...I didn't have the desire to name her. She was a stranger. Her strength was so strong, she caused me to do things that I would have normally never even thought of doing. Ignoring my mothers advice and for-warnings, embarrassing myself,causing a scene in public. Those are all things that I would normally cringe at! I was not in control of myself. The normal me would have NEVER confronted him nor her. The normal me wouldn't have had buns of steel and drove past his house. What had come over me?

I followed behind her. "No, I'm asking YOU." By this time, my mom was out of the car standing in front of the house. Mr. 36 was nowhere in sight. I don't know where the hell he disappeared to. My mom pulled me back, wiped my face and sternly said "ENOUGH! It's time to go." As my mom dragged me to the car in a way only a mother can, Mr. 36 emerged from the bushes. Yep, his ass had hid out in the bushes. Well, he said he wasn't "hiding" but he had taken up position AWAY from the drama. "CC, I'll call you in the morning." I couldn't muster up a response, but my mom picked up for me where I needed her to "don't you dare! You had more than enough time to talk tonight, but you didn't."

I sat in the passenger seat and sobbed the whole way home. I still couldn't make sense of what had just happened. I was crying for several reasons, the loss of my relationship, the betrayal, the embarrassment, the disappointment I knew I had become to my strong mother and the confusion of the whole situation. I was broken. But that wasn't the end of it.

To Be Continued....

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The Drive By: Part I

Mr 36 and I met shortly after I graduated from college. I had moved back to my hometown to attend graduate school. He was a young professional in a high profile career. We were both young and vibrant with the world at our fingertips. It was no surprise that we were attracted to each other immediately. He was tall, dark and handsome... I was petite, cute and sassy with tons of personality...a match made in heaven :)

Neither of us were looking for love, but you have no control over Cupid; when he strikes, he strikes. After a few months of hanging out, we both knew that we didn't want to share each other with anyone else, so we decided to become exclusive.

Things started out perfect. From the day that we met, we were inseperable. Though we had seperate residences, I spent the bulk of my time at his house. I was such a fixture in his daily routine, that he gave me a set of keys to his place so that I could come and go as I pleased. I rarely had to use them though, because for the most part, once my day ended, he was already home waiting for me. We had a routine that was pretty consistent. The only inconsistencies were every other weekend when he had to travel for his job. That was the time in which I spent with my sisterfriends. I had completely dissed them for the company of my new found beau.

About a year into our relationship, the dynamics began to change. His job became a little more demanding and stressful and caused his attitude to alter. The time we spent together started to be more infrequent and his moods were very fickle. I decided to give him a little breathing room, and started to spend more nights at my own apartment. I first noticed a significant change during the month of October. I remember it sooooo clearly. To say it was a few years ago, it still feels like yesterday.

It was a Tuesday evening. We spent every Tuesday together because generally Tuesday was his off day, and the only day that I didn't have any classes to attend. But for some weird reason this Tuesday was different. I didn't spend the night at his place the night before, so I called him early Tuesday morning to see what he had planned for us for the day. He didn't answer. I left a message around 10am and waited around for him to call me back. I cleaned my house, went to visit my parents, and went to run errands. 3pm came and he still hadn't returned my phone call. "Odd," I thought, so I called him again. No answer; left a message, no return call.

Since we had been together not one single day went by without us speaking. Since we had been together not one single Tuesday had gone by without us spending the day together. Since we had been together not one time had I left a message without my call being promptly returned. Something was odd, but I just couldn't place it.

Fast forward a couple of weeks. Things hadn't changed much. I wasn't sleeping over at his house every night anymore, and we were spending less and less time together. I would call him and sometimes he wouldn't return my phone call until the next morning. His main excuse would be that he had fallen asleep early because work was really wearing him out. That wasn't a far-fetched notion, but I wasn't buying the excuse. My woman's intuition had kicked in and I started to pay attention to other little things.

It was now November and I was very unsure at the turn our relationship was taking, but I didn't have much time to focus on it because I was trying to finish up my first semester of grad school. I had promised to commit myself to working on our relationship once the semester was over. I just didn't have the fortitude to do so at the time.

One Friday evening as I was leaving his house, I was involved in a car accident. I was hit from behind while sitting at a red light. The jolt was strong enough to make me have whiplash and my rear bumper was messed up pretty badly. The driver of the car, a young pretty girl, was very unapologetic; almost rude even. We exchanged the pertinent information and went about our business. She left me with a bad taste in my mouth. It wasn't until after she drove off that I realized that she worked for the same company as Mr. 36. He was bound to know her.

I immediately drove back to Mr. 36's house and told him about my fender bender. He was in a meeting when it happened so he was unable to meet me at the scene. I also mentioned to him the young lady's name and asked if he knew her. He said that he did know of her, but only in passing. Something about that young lady didn't sit well with me from the moment I met her. I'm not sure if it was the way she repeated my name after I introduced myself, or the way she stared me down as if she had met me before. I made it a point to get as much information on her as possible, simply because my gut told me to do so.

The next week turned month, things with Mr. 36 and I had gotten increasingly shaky. I took it upon myself to play Inspector Gadget, hoping to find some reason for the hot/cold that our relationship had become. I went through his dresser, caller ID, email, etc. I was unable to find anything suspicious. Was I over reacting?

A few nights later, Mr. 36 decided to play one of his disappearing acts again. By this time I was convinced that another woman was in the picture, I just had no way of proving it. After talking to a friend, I decided to go to his house to see if he was really asleep. I was growing tired of the foolish excuses that he was falling asleep at 8pm every day. He was a night owl and I found it to be almost impossible for him to go to bed that early, even if he was working a hectic schedule. Hell, I'm a sleeper and I don't even sleep that much! I told my mom what I was about to do and she tried to talk me out of it, but I was relentless. "No," I said, "I am going to drive over there and see if there are any cars parked outside of his condo." My mom advised me against it, but I was relentless.

She decided to come along for the ride. On our way there, she tried to talk me out of it. "If you feel the need to snoop, you should feel the need to leave. Never should your relationship get to a point that you don't trust him enough to have to go to these measures!" Her words went through one ear and out the next. We pulled into his community and drove down the street. "Stop here," my mom said. She offered to get out and jog the two additional blocks to his house so that I wouldn't drive directly in front of it. "Meet me at the corner on the next street." I obliged and met her around the block. When she got back in the car I looked at her, but she avoided eye contact. "Do you know anyone who owns a Silver Camry?"

Mr. 36 had an SUV. No one he knew (that I knew of) had a Silver Camry. The worst part of all of this is, it was after midnight and he did not mention having any company. The last time I spoke to him, which was 5 hours prior, he declined MY company, stating that he was tired and wanted to be alone. If that was the case, why was there a car in his driveway? Giving him the benefit of the doubt I called him to see if maybe someone popped up. No answer. I waited a few minutes and called back, no answer. I left a message, no response.

I debated on what I should do. I needed to drive by the house to see for myself. My mom begged me not to, but I couldn't listen to her on that one. I drove in front of his condo, and in his driveway sat a Silver Toyota Camry. The car was soooo familiar to me. It wasn't just ANY Silver Toyota Camry. It was the same Silver Toyota Camry that rear-ended me a month prior!!!! I knew it was the car, not simply because of the make and model, but because the dent still remained!!! WTF??!!

To Be Continued....

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Get A Life!

When in a relationship, it is important that my significant other (s/o) has his own life. I can not be anyone's everything, in that case, I feel pressured. I need a man who is secure in our relationship and in his manhood, that he allows me to be the Social Butterfly that I am. A man who has his own life, outside of our relationship. I have a very hefty social calendar, that varies from week to week. From weekend get-aways, to full-fledged international trips with the girls; play dates with my nieces and other family related outings; mid-week happy hour(s) with my co-workers and/or sister friends, this is the short list of my obligations and social dates.

Of course I do so much now because I am single. If I were in a committed relationship those outings would decrease from 6 days a week or so, to about 2 or 3. When I am married, I am sure it will have to decrease to less than that. But I don't believe that I have to lose my life entirely when I get into a relationship. I need a man who has friends. One who enjoys his friends' company and wants to hang out with them on a weekly basis. I need a man who has other obligations, one that volunteers in the community or has a hobby that takes up some time. Basically, I need a man with a life of his own.

Many men cringe at the thought of their woman hanging out on a weekly basis with her girl friends, especially if it involves alochol and nightclubs. I am not a clubber. As a matter of fact, I LOATHE the club. If I never had to step foot in one again, I wouldn't. I am more fond of martini bars and wine lofts as oppose to the booty poppin' atmosphere of the club. But I am very social. My sister-friends and I enjoy each others company. I would love for my s/o to join me in my social endeavors with the girls every once in a while, but I also desire the ability to "Do Me."

I was having a conversation the other night with a gentleman friend of mine about this very topic. He told me that he believes the reason I am single is because I do too much or DTM. I value this guy's opinion, so that statement weighed on me heavily throughout the day. So much so that I called him back later and asked him to elaborate. After promising to him that I would not get defensive or offended, he agreed to explain his comment. "You are always on the go. At any given point I can call you and you may be in Nova Scotia or somewhere. Men like to know that their woman is always readily accessible, and isn't flirting with some man in the club," he said. Did this statement have some validity? Or was he the type of guy I DO NOT want as a s/o?

I came across a post on yahoo that stated just that. Men want women who are "independent" (ya'll know I hate that word). Basically when the author elaborated, s/he said that men find it sexy when a woman has her own life and isn't "needy". Well, that's me! I am by far the most non-clingy woman I know. I used to be the woman that needed to be totally consumed with her man...but that was many moons ago and long before I met ME and fell in love with ME. That was in the stage of my life where I felt as if my sister-friends and family were expendable and would drop them at the drop of a hat to sit up under some man. Long gone are those days. While I crave the companionship of a man, I also crave the companionship of my family and friends.

I have come across several men lately that have a tough time dealing with the fact that I don't care to be consumed with only them every single day of the week. They also don't like the fact that my sisterfriends and I have weekly dinner dates that generally end with a few cocktails at a local bar. When I asked one why he wasn't fond of such, he basically reflected the sentiments of my guy friend. He said that it didn't sit well with him that I was probably intoxicated somewhere flirting with some random man in a bar. That is where the trust factor comes in. In order for me to live my life and continue to abide by my social calendar, my s/o will have to have 100% trust in me and our relationship.

Of course this guy doesn't have much trust for me, after all, we have only known each other for a couple of months. We aren't in a relationship so therefore he doesn't know me as a "girlfriend." I have said several times before on this blog that, as a girlfriend, I am 100% faithful. I have never cheated on any man in any relationship I've been in.

I have a girlfriend that has (3) kids and she is NEVER without a steady man in her life. I've always wondered exactly what it was about her that attracted the type of men that she attracts. What is she doing that I am not? She seems to always get the guys that want to wife her. Aside from the obvious (she's gorgeous, has a great shape and an even greater personality), she comes with obvious baggage: three rugrats and divorce papers. The men she attracts are not divorced single dads, they are young men who have never been married and have ZERO kids. That shocks me. As a single woman, I don't particularly care to date men with children because I don't believe that they are as flexible as I would care for them to be. I would assume that single men with no children would feel the same way, right? WRONG.

I think I've come to a healthy assumption about why single childless men would choose to date a woman with children over a single woman with no kids such as myself...because the woman with children seems to be more settled and easily accessible. Men would assume that a woman with kids wouldn't have as hefty a social calendar as I do. SIKE! My mommy/girlfriend has a much tougher social calendar than me. She has not only her own to juggle, but that of three kids to juggle as well. She runs around town like a chicken with her head cut off on a daily basis. The only time she slows down is when she has a man. Why? Because she puts his ass on daddy duty and he ends up helping her with the kids. orIs it the comfort in assuming that women with children are more settled that a single woman with no kids? Do I need to have some kids in order to get a man to take me seriously? Is it that I have to put a dude on Daddy Duty in order to get him to stop playing the field and committ? Geez.

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No B*tchassness!

I get weirded out by dudes who seem to have chick tendencies. You know the ones, men that stay in the mirror much longer than you do, the ones who don't like to get dirty or break a nail, the metrosexuals. They really give me the creeps, to say the least. But the ones that really make me ancy are the ones that are clingy.

NO B*tchassness- in the words of Diddy. I couldn't have come up with a better quote. I was kicking it with this guy that I call Christopher Williams. Why do I call him that? Well, cuz he has an uncanny resemblence to the 90s R&B singer by the same name. By all accounts Christopher Williams is a nice guy. He opens doors, showers me with compliments, and is very attentive. However, he is NOT in my starting line up. He is the 2nd string guy that I call when the starting line up needs to be benched for whatever reason or another. Lately, my starting line up has been on their p's and q's, so Christopher Williams has been warming that good ole hard bench. I don't think he cares for that too much. He keeps calling me!!!!!!!

Yesterday, I decided to return one of his 50 million fall calls. We exchanged pleasantries and then he said "You must be Terry McMillan cuz u play disappearing acts." Ummmmm, insert long pause here. I was confused. Am I obligated to call him every day? Am I even obligated to respond to his texts? I don't think so. I did remind him that I was out of town on business, in a totally different time zone, and frankly I just didn't have the time to appease him by making courtesy phone calls. He listened attentively, as he always does, and then started whining. It was such a turn off!!!!! All I heard was "wah wah wah wah wah", like the adults on the Peanuts cartoons.

After letting him whine for a few minutes, I decided to cut the convo short. I told him that I would be in touch, and he said "I won't hold my breath." Such a b*tchass statement! I recall using that line a time or two when I was young and dumb. I gave a soft chuckle before disconnecting the call. Needless to say, I doubt if Christopher Williams will delight in the pleasure of my convo let alone company again. NO B*TCHASSNESS!

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Friend Shady!

About a year ago I was dating this guy who we shall call "Harlem". Harlem and I dated for a few months before the relationship dissipated. We parted ways amicably; he was a nice guy, but just not for me. In the midst of our dating, I introduced him to one of my good girl-friends. They ended up hitting it off and eventually exchanged contact info. Their intentions were never to hook up, at least I don't think the intentions were, more than just that of a big brother/little sister type of friendship. I had no idea until recently that they were still in contact with each other.

Said good girl-friend was moving into a new home and as I was there in my Aunt Jemima housework-clothing assisting her in moving boxes inside her new abode, she casually made mention of "Harlem" being en route to tour the new digs. I was caught completely off guard. I was in no shape to anyone, let along one of my exes! I make it a point to always look fresh-to-death when in the presence of someone I used to date! Before I could meander my way to the front door and break out of that joint before Harlem appeared, the doorbell was dinging.

For the first time we had seen each other since our mutual parting, I was NOT on point. He gave me a slight once over as I stood there in sweats and a baseball cap, and let out a loud roaring laugh. "You look like you're about to go and stick up a bank!", he commented referencing my all black attire. I simply rolled my eyes.

I could not believe that said good girl-friend had set me up like that! I was not a happy camper. After a few pleasantries were exchanged, I excused myself and left the house in search of some solitude. Later that night, I called good girl-friend and expressed my thoughts. "I am not adverse to you and Harlem being cool, however, when he is going to be in MY presence, can you give me a better heads up? Matter of fact, would you mind making it so as to where he and I never really have to cross paths in a comfortable setting- such as your home, unless it's for a gathering of some sort?"

Was I asking to much? I simply wanted a heads up. I expected her to give me advance warning when Harlem would be in my presence so that I could make the executive decision on whether or not I wanted to be there. I didn't feel as if that was too much to ask of her.

Weeks passed by and several other networking events put Harlem and I in each others presence due to good girl-friend as the common denominator. I was growing more and more annoyed, but decided not to make mention of it again. As these events took place, Harlem and I began casually flirting with each other, and even scheduled going out on a date or two. After all, we did enjoy each others company, even if we had no intentions of becoming exclusive.

Especially due to the fact that Harlem and I started recreationally dating again, I told good girl-friend to NOT invite him to our inner most personal get togethers. Trips to the gym, Friday nights on our rented party bus, and bar-hopping should NOT be an open invitiation for Harlem given by good girl-friend. She did not oblige.

A few days ago I was sitting on my couch when the door bell rang. In walked good girl-friend along with a female relative of hers and Harlem. It eventually came out that Harlem and the female relative had just gone out on a date. He was obviously uncomfortable, and left my house almost as soon as he walked in. I played the role of the good hostess and entertained the company for a short amount of time. After they left, I was FUMING!

How could good girl-friend find herself comfortable enough to not only hook up her cousin with my ex (of whom she KNEW I had started seeing again) BUT invite them BOTH to MY home???? The audacity! And when I brought this to her attention, she down-played my feelings about the situation. I attempted to put the shoe on the other foot and she waved it off as me just having a bad day- and said that I needed to calm down and get a life. "Seems to me like you still have feelings for Harlem." she said coyly as she exited the front door. "Actually, I don't. However I think that what you are doing is classless and distasteful." I responded. She told me good night and then exited the premises.

Am I over reacting to this? Do I have the right to be very disappointed and upset with MY friend for playing match-maker with MY ex and her cousin???? Isn't that shady???

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Should broke men date?

I must extend sincere apologies to my faithful readers who have been wondering what the hell is going on in The Dating Lane. There has been some serious bumper to bumper traffic which led to quite a few fender benders, but for the most part, additional life responsibilities have gotten in the way of me chronicling my dating experiences. But please believe they haven't ceased! I have tons of blog fodder!

So, I met this guy; a really nice guy. Charming, well-educated, handsome and ready for a relationship. He and I have been acquainted for quite a few months now and have been kicking it hard. The down fall? He's broke. And he knows it.

He isn't your ordinary broke dude though; he is one with potential. He is a student and soon he will be making mucho dinero. But for the time being, he's a baller on a budget....a SERIOUS budget. Here is where the problems lie. Being that he is a baller on a budget, should I be understanding of his financial woes and reach for my pocket book when the check comes, or should I reach for my pocketbook and walk out of the door?

We've been on quite a few dates, each of which I've contributed financially to in some form or fashion. From paying for parking to buying a round of drinks- I almost feel obligated to do so. After all, I have a pretty decent job and make good money, and he is- well- a student.

Should men with financial problems date if they can't afford to?

If you're a faithful reader of this blog, then you know my position on going dutch. I don't believe in it. I despise it. Most of you know how I feel about men not being men and not treating on the first few dates. But I think I've become weak :( I see the potential in this young man, and I understand his struggle. I sometimes feel as if I must contribute to our date when we're out. Why? Well, because I have a job and he doesn't. And frankly, I don't want him to feel as if I'm using him for a meal or some drinks. As I stated, I like him.

One of my good girl-friends and I were discussing this and she opposes my outlook. Though we don't agree on my position, she had a valid point. She told me that I should not settle for him even if I see his "potential" because I am far too old to be dating "potential". I do concur with that statement, however I feel as if his financial situation is less than 20% of the issues we have. Well, that and his lack of aggression- but that's another blog for another day.

This moral dilemma has definitely been rearing its ugly head as of late. I have found myself going out on dates with other guys who will foot the bill, only to diss them soon after the meal and a few cocktails to go and hang out with Mr. Baller on a Budget- at his apartment. I have definitely been a user. Hell, going half on a date has become quite expensive!

I have never dated a dude with financial problems. Even in high school, my bf at the time was a college student who waited tables in a popular restaurant. At a young age I was dining out at his expense on a regular basis. My post college bf was young, rich and fabulous and would never have cringed at the thought of letting his lady pay for anything. So, I'm pretty spoiled. I also have a doting father, who took my sisters and I out on a regular basis to 5 star restaurants. My dad (to this day) is the epitome of a MAN and instilled in us early on that if the man in our lives couldn't do as he did for us or better, we had no need for said man. He set the standard by which all men were to follow. On the flip side, my mother did support my father throughout his days of law school, as she had already gotten her post graduate degree and was the bread-winner at the time. However, they were in their early 20s too.

So as you can see, I am so conflicted! I don't know the right answer to this. Should I stick it out and continue to date him, even though we can't really date because of his financial situation? Or should I drop him like he's hot and move on without "wasting my pretty?" I'd love to hear your opinions on this matter.

Have you ever dated a baller on a budget? How would you handle the situation if you were me? Is this entire top shallow to you?

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My Dating Rant

Have I ever expressed to you, my lovely loyal readers, how much I LOATHE the entire ceremony of dating? If I haven't (which I'm sure I have), let me take a few minutes out of your busy day to rant on exactly what I dislike the most about the dating process.

I dislike the "getting to know you" phase. Generally this is the point in which you meet a person's representative, and they meet yours. You know what I'm talking about! You wear the mask.. and you do it well. You watch what you say, monitor your vocabulary, act like you have some sense. When, generally, you say the first thing that's on your mind, cuss like a sailor and act a pure @ss on a day to day basis. I kid...a little.

During this phase you are becoming better acquainted with the person you are dating, and are learning what makes them tick, what makes them smile and what makes their teeth itch; and vice versa. C'est Chic, ever the lover of immediate gratification, DREADS the process! I want to immediately jump to the point in which you know me well enough to know not to piss me off (too much), not to say the wrong thing and to back up off me 2.5 days before I turn "red".

I hate the ceremonial 2-3 day breaks that come in between dates. Hell, if you like me, enjoy my company and want to see me everyday- COME AND SEE ME! Call me! We can go out, or chill at home. Don't put limits on it if that's how you feel! Urrrggghhh.

Ok. The End!



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All Mixed Up!

Networking websites such as Facebook seem to be the newest craze in the internet world. Imagine my excitement when I found out that my high school had it's own version site! It's like Facebook, but only for alumni and it is soooo cool and so addictive. There are so many people that I haven't seen or spoken to since high school graduation that are members. It's kind of like a high school reunion...via the internet.

Within the site, there are sub-groups set up with the intentions of linking former classmates that share the same commonalities. From sororities and fraternities, to career sub-groups...the list goes on and on. For added fun, there are discussion forums that enable the alumni to talk about "Long Lost Friends," "Will Obama Win the Election?" and my favorite "Secret High School Crushes."


I was pretty popular in high school, but I didn't have many boyfriends. Most of the guys at that time seemed to be more interested in the "fine girls" and the girls that were sexually promiscuous, so many of them were not interested me- the under-developed, proud virgin!Though we were always surrounded by guys, my circle of sister-friends often always found those guys to be strictly platonic friends. None of us had boyfriends until we were well into our junior year. However, that doesn't mean we didn't have crushes.

My ultimate crush was a guy we'll call Marc. Marc and I didn't really hang in the same circles as he was 2 years younger than I was. He was a jock and preferred the "fine girls" and frankly, upper classmen didn't hang with under classmen. I can count on my hand the amount of times he and I exchanged pleasantries, let along full fledged conversations.

So imagine my surprise when I browsed the "Secret High School Crush" discussion thread and read that he had a crush on me while in high school. I was so shocked! I replied to his post saying that the feeling was mutual and had I known he had a crush on me then, I would have made a move...or not. LOL. I was kind of shy in that aspect.

Marc and I began communicating via email ever since his revelation. Amidst discussion, it was revealed that he too, lived down south and is single with no kids. We had some things in common. As we got to know each other a little better, we realized that we are similar in many ways. I began crushing on him again.

About three weeks into our communication there was an event going on in our hometown that brought both of us back to the city. We agreed to meet up at one of the popular night spots so that we could have a drink and shoot the breeze face to face.

I wore my little black dress and my special event pearls. The red stilettos that adorned my attire provided just the right amount of "sexy" without going over board. I was ready! My sister-friend and I entered the party location and immediately began mingling. I spotted MT in the corner and immediately headed towards him to greet him. I approached him with the biggest, cheesiest grin on my face that I could muster. I tapped him on the back and he turned around and greeted me with a smile and let out an enthusiastic "Hi!" We engaged in a bit of small talk....the usual "You look great!", "How have you been?" blah blah blah...then he said something that took me by surprise. MT said: "Forgive me please, I know I know your face- but I can't remember your name." I looked at him confused. I said "C'est Chic" with a slight duhhhh in my voice. He said "that's right, that's right. You used to hang with Charmed and Chase and the whole good girl crew!" and let out a slight chuckle. I was confused. After all, we had been talking for weeks and had already covered this ground. Why was this guy suddenly showing signs of selective amnesia?

Then a friend of his approached us and called his name, and I suddenly realized that I had been communicating the entire time with the wrong person! The guy I had been talking to via email was not the guy standing before me at that instant! I had mistaken his face for someone else's name. He was actually MB NOT MT. MT was a totally different guy altogether. I was so embarassed.

I played it off for a minute, engaging in a few more minutes of useless chatter and then I excused myself to the ladies room in an effort to attempt to wipe the shit look off of my face. As soon as I turned around to head to the ladies room, I was stopped by a guy that looked vaguely familiar. He walked up to me with the most eager, toothy grin I had ever seen. It was the REAL MT. As in the guy I had been emailing back and forth for several weeks, thinking he was MB. He called me by my government name and then reached out to embrace me. I returned his hug and excused myself, telling him I had to use the restroom and that I would return shortly.

I called Charmed immediately upon entering the ladies room. I could NOT believe that I had mixed up the guys' names. I thought I had been communicating with my High School Crush, when in all actuality I was talking to a totally different guy! I really had myself in a pickle now. She laughed at me....hysterically. How was I ever to get myself out of this precarious position? And to top it off, my ego was also bruised. Not only was I talking to the wrong guy, but the right guy didn't even show me the slightest bit of interest. At least not until the end of the night.

After leaving the ladies room, I never saw the REAL MT again, but I ran into MB several times. At then end of the night as I was walking out of the party, he grabbed my forearm and asked if it was ok for us to exchange contact info. "Of course it's ok!", is what I was secretly thinking. If only he knew! The very next day we met for brunch and I just had to share with him the mix up. It was at that point that MB told me that he too, had always had a crush on me, but due to my age he was always afraid of approaching me. Who would have known?! Even if he was just saying that to make me feel good...I enjoyed the flattery.

My only problem now is, How am I supposed to tell the REAL MT that I had him mistaken for someone else- MB. What is the most tactful method of letting him know that I really didn't have the hots for him in high school afterall. How can I break the news to him that I had his name attached to someone else's face- in my mind? After all, the REAL MT is the person I have been crushing on lately due to his personality. I am such a sucker when it comes to tough talks like this. I hate confrontation and disappointment. Ladies, please advise! I would love to know how you all out there in blog land would approach this problem.

XoXo,

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Sex on the Beach

Charmed and I took some time out of our busy lives for a little R&R in the Mexican Riviera. We had a wonderful time...we are easy to please. Great food, wonderful company and even better cocktails make the two of us the world's most pleasant Bachelorettes!

During the few weeks prior to the vacation, we had a brief discussion about the possibility of meeting potential gentlemen callers. Charmed and I had pretty much convinced ourselves that there would at the very least be two handsome single guys that would be more than honored to meet our acquaintance while on vacation. Needless to say, we were both wrong.

On the final evening before our departure we decided to embark on an excursion: horseback riding along the beach and in the desert. Rookies to horseback riding, she and I didn't really know what to expect. But my experience was well beyond anything my vivid imagination could create.

The horse that I was given was a former race horse. He was a fine Stallion might I add. His bronzed hue was equally as beautiful as his long flowing mane. He loved to gallop and had a penchant for speed. I often had to make him "heel" because he would get carried away with galloping and at times make me feel as if I was going to fall off. The first half of the ride was beachside. The scenery was great, and as the sun set, the beautifulo range, yellow and red hues illuminated magnificently off of the Sea of Cortez.

During the 2nd half of the tour, our guide led us up a mountain. As we gradually inclined, I became overwhelmed by a tingling sensation. I'm not sure if it was the position that I was in as I sat on the horse, or if it was the fact that my cycle had just started. During my cycle, my hormones tend to go crazy! Whatever the cause, it didn't matter...I became engrossed with unfiltered thoughts that danced in my head. I was aroused.

Everyone knows that I've been practicing abstinence and truth be told, I am not a fan of masturbation at all. I would prefer a man to touch my body as oppose to me touching myself. However, the sensation that I was feeling at that moment was the BEST feeling ever. If that's what masturbation feels like, then sign me up now!

With each step the horse took, my body pressed up against its hard spine. My "area" hit the saddle in just the right way each time. I wanted to scream! I had to catch myself before I drifted off into a world that I shouldn't have been in! From that point on I had to focus hard on NOT thinking about how aroused I had become. It was HARD I tell ya! Just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, the tour ended. I was saved by the sunset. Or was I?

I left the race horse behind that day, and decided to put good use to the electronic device one of my friends bought for me the moment she found out I was abstinent. Other than the namesake drinks I had when we first arrived in the city, horseback riding was the only method of Sex on the Beach that I experienced during this year's vacation! Insert long sigh here.

XoXo,

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CARRIE'd Away!

I would be remiss of my duties as a blogger if I didn't blog about the Sex and The City Motion Picture. I LOVED IT! The movie was indeed a "chick flick" that encompassed everything girly- from couture dresses, to pillow talk, to flawless make-up. But the movie also included several "life lessons" and show that women--in general, go through the same issues when it comes to men and relationships- regardless of age, color, creed or geographical location.

It was so funny watching the characters on screen and realizing how much myself and my circle of friends emulate the SATC girls. I am DEFINITELY a "Carrie" whereas Charmed is soooo much of a Charlotte it's a shame. Omigosh, I was too tickled when in Mexico, the girls were sitting on the patio enjoying the view and chitchatting--and Charlotte came out in her workout gear ready for a run. She asked if any of them wanted to join her and they all gave her the "look" and she got the picture and went alone. That is such a Charmed move! She would so do that! (Don't get any ideas Charmed! In Mexico I refuse to workout!!! lol)


I went to see the movie without the company of any of my good girlfriends, but they were not only in my heart, they were alllll over the screen. The story line was great, and the development of the characters (with the exception of Louise) was very realistic. I did not like the character J-Hud played...but I won't get into the why of it-- I just basically felt that she was insignificant and created to appease women of color. BAD JOB!

Some folks may argue that the characters in the movie didn't progress much from their start on the show some 10 yrs ago. Though we all know that evolution is nearly inevitable, how many grown ass women do you know that DRASTICALLY change? I saw subtle character changes in each one of them- especially Samantha. But let's not forget, they truly emulate REAL women, and sometimes, we REAL women digress.

I had one major problem with the plot though. I am a self-proclaimed Carrie; I find that she and I tend to parallel in many ways. However, one way we don't parallel is in the way she decided to handle the situation with Big.

Here's why. If you recall, Carrie was seemingly ok with "shacking up" with Big (another area in which we differ). I doubt highly if I would be ok with "playing house." But I digress. The nonchalant attitude in which he brought up the marriage, and her equally nonchalant response, gave me the notion that she really wasn't that pressed on being "married" to him. I received the impression that their relationship was progressing and would continue to progress with or without a marriage license. The "proposal" came out of the blue and didn't seem to carry much weight. Until of course she became enthralled in the ceremony of the wedding and didn't give the marriage much concentration.

Fast-forward to the night before the wedding when Big called her to say that he was having doubts. She handled that conversation much better than I'd imagined, cuz I would've probably gone clean the hell off- forgetting that we were ok with just living together a few months ago. But Carrie, however, calmly and eloquently re-assured him that their marriage was about the two of them and their love for and commitment to each other. She made me proud! But the next day, amidst all of the chaos, she forgot that he had been having doubts- doubts that he expressed less than 24 hrs before. She forgot about her partner and didn't think twice about connecting with him before one of the most monumental occasions in each of their lives. Her entire "Us against the world" speech that she had given him the night before, was null and void.

My heart stopped when she dropped the phone and exclaimed that he wasn't going to show up. But the scene that followed was the real clincher for me. When the two cars met on the busy streets of NYC and they both emerged from the chauffeured vehicles, I felt like I was there! It was by far the BEST scene in the movie IMO. I could not begin to imagine the embarrassment and humiliation a person would feel after experiencing that. I, too, would've probably beat his ass across the head with the bouquet of roses!!! Not only that, but my girls would have joined in on the mulling. There would've been a good azz whoopin taking place on that street! But sooner, rather than later, my emotional mind would have subsided and my practical mind would have kicked in. Following the emotional outburst and physical assault, a barrage of questions would have been thrown his way. Would I have gone back and had the ceremony after he revealed that he had made a mistake and did indeed want to go through with the wedding? NOPE. There was clearly some issues that were in dire need of a resolution. Would all have been well between the two of us? Absolutely not! I would still be upset, hurt and humiliated...and in need of some time without him. I would have taken the trip to Mexico, especially in the company of my girls...and I probably would've sulked in my own self pity for a few days. But completely ignore him is something that I would have never done. At some point, between the margaritas and love's hang-over, my practical mind would have reminded me that my emotional mind had over-powered the situation.

In my opinion Carrie lost sight of the man that Big really was and started treating him like the man she hoped he had become; but she was wrong. Underneath what seemed to be his undying devotion to her and his declarations of love for her, he proved to be the same flighty, commitment-phobe he had always been. And lest we forget that he had already experienced 2 failed marriages.

Carrie always knew (in the back of her mind) that there was a possibility that Big would flake on her- yet again. She may have hoped otherwise, but he gave her tell-tale signs that her intuition was accurate. She had allowed her hope to override her intuition. She admitted to this during her rant on the street. A woman's intuition aka "gut feeling" is a gift from God. We all have it, but most often we allow our hopes to override it. Had she paid closer attention to her "gut feeling" she would have been forced to pay a little more attention to his apprehension. He sent her a couple of warnings but she overlooked them, and therefore the end result was to her detriment.

Am I saying that Big had a right to be flighty and stand her up? Do I agree with him calling her the day of the wedding and expecting her to be able to pick up the phone amidst all of the hoopla to sooth his ego? Not actually. But I do believe that it is a woman's responsibility to nurture her man in any and every way possible. It was Carrie's duty to Big to ensure that he was comfortable with the situation and ready for the day's activities. She forgot about the most important person in her life...her man.

Whenever my special day comes, I will definitely make it a point to communicate with my H.I.M. the day of the ceremony- several times if possible. Not because I want to make sure he won't stand me up at the altar (that will be confirmed wayyyy before the planning begins), but because it is OUR special day and we should try to share in every aspect of it TOGETHER.

It's easy to point the finger at what another person has done to wrong us. It is much harder, however, to take a closer look into how we could have possibly contributed to the situations demise. Carrie quickly laid the blame entirely on Big's shoulders as well as allowed Miranda to later share in the honor, without taking a step back and evaluating how much she had contributed to the matter. Had she done so, she would have seen how she had gotten CARRIE'd away with herself. But of course, it was a just movie! Right?!

I still believe in fairy tales; complete with Prince Charming, his white horse and a big ass mansion with servants and the like. But in fairy tales, like in real life, there are obstacles to overcome and set-backs to sustain. The "Happily Ever After" never came without a struggle, so anything less would be questionable.

XoXo,
C'est Chic

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Dating Chronicles: Mr. Big Shot

I couldn't make up these stories if I tried! I have a vivid imagination, but not this vivid. Sit back and relax and take a glimpse into my life in the Dating Lane.

This weekend was very eventful- to say the least. I have been attending a Cycling Class at my gym for a little over a month now. The class is held twice a week, and has a faithful following.

I am the "newbie" in the class, and a couple of weeks ago, while setting up my bike, one of the veteran members came over to make small talk with me. He told me his name was *G* and welcomed me to the class. "Pretty nice guy," I thought to myself. I worked out hard in the class that day...I was soooo proud of myself. At the end, I began limping my way over to the women's locker room. Boy, that seat is something else. It never ceases to violate me EVERY class.

*G* follows me out, and I didn't realize until I was halfway down the stairs that he was behind me. At the bottom of the staircase, he stopped me and handed me his business card. He said he wanted to meet me for lunch one day during the week and asked my availability. Cool. I give him my info, so that we could coordinate schedules.

Generally, guys that try to hit on me in the gym are not given the time of day. I loathe having some man salivate over my ass while I'm doing lunges. It seems so desperate to me when men approach women while they're trying to get their work-out on. But for some reason, I felt like I didn't have anything to loose, and *G* seemed nice enough, and it helped that he was fine ass hell.

So, later that day, I received an email from *G* asking me to meet him at this quaint little Cuban eatery north of my home. I oblige and am there promptly at the designated time.

The date started off pretty cool. We had decent conversation, he was very polite, and well-mannered. By all accounts this was a pretty good date. Then the check came. He reviewed the bill and proceeded to reach into his pocket to pay. Good right? Wrong.
Why did this dude pay the entire 68.00 bill and 20.00 tip in ONE DOLLAR BILLS??!!??!!

Something was definitely wrong with that picture! When he noticed me looking at him with the *side eye*, he attempted to explain. The bottom line was- he was headed to the strip club after our date. Well, at least he was honest. *Insert long SIIIIGGHHH*

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Dating Chronicles: The Third Wheel

I met Mr. W at the W Hotel's infamous Ghost Bar in Dallas, TX. Little ole me, made feeble attempts to get the bartender's attention; Mr W observed this and offered to speak on my behalf. Once he flagged down the bartender, I was finally able to order my drink, and once the bill came, Mr. W put it on his tab. We began conversing while I waited for my drink, and though he didn't physically appear to be the type of guy I was attracted to, he had great conversation. About an hour into our conversation, he invited me to lunch. I was only in town for a few days, so we agreed that lunch the next day would work for both of us.

The next day our lunch date was set for 2pm. I was staying at a downtown hotel and the restaurant was on the other side of town, so Mr W offered to be my chauffeur. Though I generally make it a point to drive my own vehicle on the 1st few dates, I obliged given the circumstances. As I stood outside waiting for him to arrive I couldn't help but notice the car that pulled up to the front of the hotel. With its music BLARING and 22" rims, a candy-painted Chrysler 300 stopped a few feet beyond where I was standing. The limo tinted windows obstructed my view inside of the vehicle, so I was unable to see inside. I shook my head at the stereotypical image in front of me. A few seconds later, my phone rang. It was Mr W. He was in the car with the loud music. Strike 1.

As I approached the passenger side of the car, the door flung open and out came a 6 foot something guy with a white t-shirt and some Air Force Ones. It wasn't Mr W. It was one of his friends. I recognized him from the other night at the Ghost Bar. He introduced himself as "Tim". I spoke cordially, he gave me a head nod and then hopped in the back seat. Strike 2.

The entire ride to the restaurant the music was at 100 when I need it to be at 20. There was no conversation- I mean, how could there be? Several times I thought about asking him to tone it down a bit, but I just couldn't get up the nerve.

We arrived at the restaurant- Olive Garden, where we were seated in a booth. I slid in on one side and he slid in on the opposite, with "Tim" occupying the seat to his right. Strike 3.

The entire 63 minutes we were at lunch, I barely said a word. Aside from placing my order with the waiter and a few other occasional comments here and there, I kept my mouth shut and just observed. The two buddies entertained each other while I sat fiddling with the sub-par Italian cuisine that sat before me. I was unimpressed with the whole outing. I could not wait to get back to my hotel room!

We proceeded to get back into the pimped out car with the music booming through the sub-woofers (or whatever you call those loud azz speakers). As we approached the hotel, he turned down the volume and told me that he had a great time and would call me later that evening. He even suggested hanging out later that night. NOT!

About 20 minutes after dropping me off, MR W sent me a text message saying: "You are so damn sexy it took everything in me not to hem you up!" Strike 4. First off, I hate when men refer to me as sexy and they don't even know me. It is so lustful. Secondly, my attire for the day was very modest and did not include any scantily clad or "sexy" clothing.

So my thoughts are this: "Ok, so maybe I have natural sex appeal- I don't doubt that. But please refrain from calling me Sexy! And dude, last time I checked, you were more engaged with your homeboy that tagged along with us, than you were with me! NOT.HOT."

I guess that's one of the reasons why he is 36 and single. Needless to say, I have not spoken to Mr W since. That was our first and last date.

CALGON TAKE ME AWAY!

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PSA: Going Dutch does NOT exist in my vocabulary!

We all know how I feel about going dutch. Check out Aunt Jackie's post on said topic. I couldn't have possibly written it any better. She hits the nail on the head. Check it out:

I Am Not Dutch.

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I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T or N-O-T

"She got her own house, she got her own car, two jobs work hard you a bad broad..."
~Webbie

There are so many things wrong with the song INDEPENDENT which is supposed to serve as a hip-hop woman's anthem. The song is recorded by an MC who goes by the name of Webbie. The only thing I can find right about the song is the beat. I often find myself dancing to it, but I really don't want to because I hate the lyrics.

In this song, the author details the type of woman that he believes is Independent. "Baby Phat just relax, front your own flat screen...she cooks, she cleans, don't make her make a scene." After reading the lyrics in its entirety, it is my perception that the author is in search of a woman with enough money to pay her own bills, buy her own car; a woman who will "tell you that she don't need a goddamn thing....she a hot lil thing".

Here's my take on this....and ya'll already know that my word is the gospel :)
I am a single woman. I buy my own clothes, pay my own bills, own my own car etc. I don't depend on anyone to do things for me, even though I appreciate it when they do. However, I don't consider myself an INDEPENDENT woman. Why? Because I do all of these things because I HAVE to, not because I WANT to. It's what I must do to survive. I'm not going to sit around and wait for a man to come along to do these things for me. But that doesn't necessarily mean that I'm an independent woman (by the author's description). Because if I had a man, I would be more than willing to relinquish those duties to him.

Real Talk. If my man "called me on my cellular" and asked me if I needed anything, if there was something I desired, I would voice it. It is a man's general nature to WANT to do for his woman. Men need to feel needed. When they don't feel you need them, they become intimidated and feel as if there is no place for them in your life.

These new age men, who find comfort in women who are "independent", are less than men IMO. These are the same men that will complain later on in the relationship, when that very same INDEPENDENT woman that they are boasting about, cusses them out, tells them where to shove it and goes on and on about how she doesn't need him cuz he ain't ish...and so on and so forth. Then, she will no longer be an INDEPENDENT woman, she'll be a B****.

MEN, MAKE UP YOUR MIND!

There is an enormous difference between a woman who has the ability to take care of herself financially and otherwise, but who is also willing and able to allow her man to be the provider he should be; and a self proclaimed INDEPENDENT woman that makes it known to any and every man she meets that she is EVERY WOMAN and don't need his ass for anything, because she is INDEPENDENT and got her own house and her own car.

I am not saying that women should be "takers" and men should be "givers". What I am saying is that men should watch what they wish for. That very same woman that you are praising today for being INDEPENDENT, will be the same woman to embarrass you and make you feel like less than a man because you haven't been contributing monetarily to the relationship. Instead, look for and align yourself with the woman who has the ability to contribute but the desire to UNITE.

XoXo,
C'est Chic

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BOYCOTT!!! Do NOT Cross Picket Line.

Remember those nights (when you were younger) that you fell asleep on the phone talking to the person you were dating at the time? Remember when you couldn't wait for said person to call you on the phone so that you could hear their voice? Remember how you felt the moment their number would show up on your caller id? It was something about hearing a person's voice that made you feel closer to them. Well, you can't feel that way these days....fonts don't have a tone.

I am convinced that text messaging is going to be the death of modern day relationships! I am calling for a boycott of text messaging for all women who are living Life in the Dating Lane. I must admit, I started off playing into the text messaging game while in the Dating Lane. I soon realized that text messaging gets abused in the worst way! I have been in the presence of men, who hold an entire conversation with one female, while on a date or chilling with another woman. I have experienced men who suddenly obtain the courage to say things via text that they would generally not say to a woman's face. And we aren't gonna begin to talk about the picture mail abuse. You know what I'm talking about- those d*** and cooch pics. I call them glamour shots.

I am sooooo not feeling this new technology as it relates to dating. It allows men (and some women, as well) the freedom to be deceptive and lie by omission. It allows men (and some women, as well) to be philanderers on a whole 'notha level! Text messaging creates dishonesty and messages via text can also be misinterpreted.

I understand that we all live busy lives. However, I also understand that people make time for what they feel is important. So I am quick to shoot down the fact that people can ONLY communicate via text because they are sooooo busy!

I mean, anything is okay within MODERATION, correct? I don't mind occasional texts from my gentlemen callers, especially those of the "thinking of you" nature. But I am not okay with text being the sole method of communication, with a phone call for clarification thrown in every now and again.

Let's go beyond the fact that texting allows men (and some women) to be dishonest, and take it a step further. Sending text messages as well as emails, can be anti-personal. Even beyond the anti-personal aspect, tones can not be determined via text. Voice inflictions can not be categorized via text. The sender's message is left for the receiver to interpret. Sometimes that very message can be misconstrued. Any way ya look at it, dating via text is just unacceptable.

Ladies, please join with me in the nationwide boycott of text messaging! When meeting a guy, immediately set the precedence that texting is NOT acceptable. Make it clear to your gentleman callers, that your sole method of communication will not be 160 characters or less. Let him know, that if he wants to speak to you, set up a dinner date, or meet you for drinks, that he must CALL you to do so. Texting is ONLY acceptable occasionally to say Hi, let you know that he is running late, or to tell you that he is thinking of you. This boycott is effective immediately and will last indefinitely. We can take back integrity in the Dating Lane one phone call at a time!

XoXo,
C'est Chic

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D.W.I. (Dialing While Intoxicated)

It plays out the same way every time…you have a little too much to drink and before you know it…your mind starts racing and then your fingers start dialing, or in my case, texting. Why is it that alcohol somehow fills you with this magical “liquid courage” and urges you to do things you wouldn’t in your sober mind even dream of? Anyone who says they don’t know what I’m talking about has never been drunk!! We’ve all either done it ourselves or witnessed a friend making a call that we all know he or she should not be making. From there, we usually find ourselves tracing our steps and conversations the next morning, trying to figure out how embarrassed we should really be.

Last weekend, I fell into the rabbit hole! After a fun night out, and lots of cocktails, I found myself having a mental debate as to whether I should call my Ex. He was top of mind and I’d decided in my mind that I could not go to bed without talking to him. Just to give you some perspective, this guy is definitely an Ex and we really don’t talk that often anymore. However, because I believe in truth telling, I have to admit that I do still have feelings for him. Now back to the story – I consider myself a somewhat reasonable person, which is probably how I rationalized (in my drunken state) that it would be better to text than to call. Now that the liqueur fog has worn off, I remember thinking that texting him was way better than calling. I somehow thought that would keep me from embarrassing myself. What in the hell was I thinking???!!!!! Any reasonable (or sober) person would determine that having written proof of embarrassment is much worse than hearsay from one person. But…I wasn’t sober so I proceeded to text. Lucky for me, I wasn’t feeling overly emotional that night. Any other night, that drunken text could have turned into a profession of my undying love or an angry rant about how badly he hurt me and all the reasons we can’t be together. This time, I (guess) was trying to be coy and cute and sent some cryptic message that only I could decipher. He called the following day wondering what I meant but I blew it off and told him that I was drunk and not to worry about. I apologized for the late night text but joked that texting had to be better than calling. Surprisingly, he told me it would have definitely been okay to call. But I’m not going to go there!!!
Ultimate embarrassment averted! I was so thankful my “liquid courage” didn’t take me out this time. Heaven knows I’ve experienced enough drunk dials to last me a lifetime. As I approach my 30’s…I’m hoping my DWI’s will be fewer and far between – hopefully over!

XoXo,
Charmed

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Is Dating on Reality TV Really Dating?

I have to admit that I can not get with the program of these reality dating shows. I just can't find it in me to allow myself to totally believe the foolishness that is shown. I mean seriously, what woman in her right mind would want to date Flavor Flav? What woman do you know (with something going for herself), would willingly reside in a house full of other women as she competes against them for a total stranger's adoration and praise? Ummmm, I don't know of any. Where do they find these chics that participate?

When The Bachelor first hit TV a few years back, I tuned in out of sheer curiosity. What appalled me is the desperation that these ladies reaked of. The way that would stop at nothing to get the attention of a man they thought was an heir to a fortune. How they would make decisions to spend the night with him and kiss him after knowing that just a few hours ago he was with another woman, doing the same thing. That made my teeth itch. To me, there is nothing more degrading than women COMPETING for a man. I often wonder if, in the course of these shows, does it become more about the competition than it does about the relationship. After all, that's really what they are there for- a relationship, right? So at some point does it become less about the actual guy and more about winning?

I wonder if at some point these chics realize that the man is full of ish, and he really isn't their type. I'm sure that has happened. It is only natural for you to think less of a man slobbing down some chick in a hot tub that he has known for less than 24 hrs. It has to make you think twice about his credibility. But will any of the women on these shows ever speak out about it? NOPE. I believe they won't because at that point it has become more about the show and not about the relationship.

The Bachelorette and I Love New York are spin offs from the original shows The Bachelor and Flavor of Love. These shows have flipped the script and put the woman in charge of finding a mate out of a sea of men. This is even more unbelievable. Men definitely hate competition when it comes to women. Open competition that is. I'm sorry, but the man that is my HIM is not ok with living in the same house for an unprecidented amount of weeks- first off. Call me elitist, but my HIM is not ok with the possibility of me swapping spit with random men, including him.

Even if it's just for fun dating purposes, quality men and women would be nowhere near these shows. I know, I know, it's all satire and made for television. Well, call it that then...don't call it reality TV.

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