Mr. Nice Guy From Hell

I have a new blog. It should be fun. I might ask you to contribute!!!

https://mrniceguyfromhell.wordpress.com/

Hope you enjoy!!!

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The Thirst

Are you thirsty? Not for water, for an individual for whom you think you might have a romantic connection. I keep reading tweets from men who claim that showing a woman interest doesn’t equal thirst and that these women just aren’t used to a man treating them well…which is a hot, steaming pile of horseshit because A) I’ve fallen victim to The Thirst and B) I am well aware of how to be treated by a man…that I’m interested in. Unwanted romantic advances fall into three categories: Persistence, Thirst, and Stalking. (Keep in mind, it is only considered annoying if you’re not interested in the individual; otherwise, it’s normal courting.)

Persistence Back in August, I received a message in my inbox on Facebook from a guy I went to high school with. I didn’t know him then, still don’t know him now, but he had been liking and commenting on quite a few posts and pictures. This means absolutely nothing…or it means absolutely EVERYTHING!! Turns out, the gentleman wanted to date me. He never outright said “I’d like to take you out on a date.” Instead, he relied on the persistence method, also known as the Steve Urkel I’m Wearing You Down approach. This rarely works.

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No. For the love of God, NO!!! That shit is not endearing, it’s called pre-stalking. This man had the nerve to say stalking was subjective…and then I knew precisely why men make statements like, “You just don’t know it feels to have a real man treat you good.” If the response to your persistence are one word answers and you never seem to quite make any ground with the object of your affection, chances are this person is trying not to reject advances you’re too chicken shit to make. The man who thought persistence was the key to my heart sent this final message on New Year’s Day:

I really would have liked to have had a chance to get to know you. No disrespect, I know you’re attached now, but I hope you’ll keep my application on file should the future husband position be available again. Best wishes beautiful.

Persistence only works when feelings are reciprocated, only then it’s called dating.

The Thirst People confuse persistence with thirst all the time. The litmus test is quite simple: Would you be disgusted by the actions if you had any interest whatsoever in the individual? If so, it’s probably just some poor overanxious soul who really wants your attention. If you are disgusted and appalled by this person, you are officially a victim of The Thirst. Similar to persistence, The Thirst can be misconstrued. If you receive a message describing what the sender wants to do to every inch of your body from someone you want to do things to every inch of your body, it’s not The Thirst, it’s sexting. If you haven’t seen the married individual since 1993 when he was your summer boyfriend, it’s not only thirsty, it’s creepy.

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1) This man has never met my child. 2) My Facebook inbox is not here for this foolishness. 3) Ew.

The Thirst comes in all kinds of flavors: Excessive commenting and liking of posts, statuses, and pictures…and by excessive, I mean ALL, insisting that you can do better than someone else’s man/woman, being extra…The Thirst is easily identified: Have you gotten anywhere with your “flirting”? No…oh, it’s because you’re fucking thirsty!!!

Stalking I’ve been stalked before and it’s not to be taken lightly. Back in college, a man who at one point went to the university in a neighboring town decided to set his sights on me. During a weekend break, while we were on the phone, he asked me where I lived. I gave him a general vicinity and we continued to talk on the phone. He told me he had some errands to run and we ended our conversation. About an hour later, he called me back and asked what exit he needed to take to get to my house. I was utterly confused…and then he explained he wanted to surprise me so he didn’t tell me he was about to make a 60 mile drive to my house unannounced. I told him my mother and I were about to leave out and then realized I had a weirdo on my hands. A few weeks later, while visiting a friend at his “school,” he found out I was in town, attempted to explain away his skeevy behavior and offered to drive us around to some of his fraternity events. I obliged. Long story short, he tried to kill me. Like physically wrap his hands around my throat and strangle the life from my tiny little body. He was chased down by his frat brothers, the police were called, a restraining order was filed, and I went back to my school. After he showed up on my campus asking around for me, I had to contact the campus police and let my dorm director know I had a stalker. According to the messages I continued to get, he just wanted to tell me sorry and know if he could try again. 1) No. 2) I never slept with this dude nor gave him any indication I planned on handing over my virginity to him. 3) No. I heard from one of his frat brothers that he was creeping on another freshman…it took him until I left for summer break for him to stop calling, writing letters, and doing other stalky shit. (I just looked him up on Facebook…his occupation is listed as professional boxer…go fucking figure)

It’s quite simple to determine whether your method is working: Are you in a relationship with the person you’re creeping on? Are you being ignored? Have your requests ever been honored? Will your actions put you in prison? Is there a restraining order against you? Really? Well, you just might be a persistent, thirsty stalker. This means you Blue Line Tyrell.

Black Enough

Is my baby black enough?

It’s not her fault I married a man who is Vietnamese and white. It’s not her fault she’s the color of a file folder. It’s not her fault her hair lacks the curl pattern that forged a permanent alliance between my hair and my no lye relaxer. Every time I look at my beautiful little girl, I wonder how often she’ll be judged for not looking black enough. I wonder how many people won’t look beyond her complexion and hair to realize how wonderful she is, and still would be if her skin was the color of coal and hair the texture of wool. If she dates a black man, will women smirk and think that he only wants her because she’s an LSW? If she dates a non-black, will those same women look at her in disgust because of her obvious shame of her African roots? I’m afraid she won’t be able to win, no matter what she does, it won’t be good enough please the legions of I’m Black and I’m Prouds who denounce those who aren’t black enough and those have to prove their blackness. During the Superbowl last year, my child ran around naked with her freshly unbraided hair flying all over the place before taking her bath. I tweeted that she looked like Troy Polamalu (during the Superbowl in which he was not only playing, but starring in multiple Head & Shoulders commercials) and I was instantly assaulted by two SBWs [the s is for either strong or stank, take your pick] insulted by the mere mention of a black woman’s hair that didn’t include #teamnatural. “Do you want a cookie?” was one of the responses. I blocked both bitches and went about my business but to this day, I can’t help but to still be concerned that my child’s future relationships with other black women may be determined by their annoyance that she doesn’t look black enough. She’ll always be amazing, and not because she’s “light-skinded with good hair,” but because she’s smart, funny, sensitive, caring, and downright extraordinary. I teach her that beauty is only skin deep and that her looks aren’t what make her a star. That she IS black enough, and her complexion and hair have nothing to do with it. That she doesn’t have to tolerate or accept someone else’s judgement based on what she looks like. That she should be proud of her heritage and ancestry, all of it.

Dear Mr. White Man

Dear White Man,

A few weeks ago, I joined match.com to broaden my dating horizons (*Read: actually get out of the house and go on actual dates) and according to the emails I’ve received from other users, I’m attractive to not just black men, but Others as well. Men whose profiles indicate they are only interested in dating Caucasian, Asian, Hispanic/Latina, and Native American women wink at me (the facebook equivalent of a poke and the Brett Favre equivalent of a dick pic) and send me emails as though they don’t notice I don’t fit their ethnicity requirements. I don’t mind, really, because like I’ve said countless times before, I’m a what’s on the inside that counts provided the outside is attractive kinda girl. I’m a sucker for a pretty face, and I’m really not ashamed to say that I don’t care about the hue of said face. What I do care about are the silly questions, asinine statements, and ridiculous notions some of you Others seem to have about dating “sistas” (about that…don’t call me a sista…EVER). I’m in the habit of helping out the clueless, it’s the teacher in me, and since I still have some residual educator ways left, I’m here to assist, whether you want it or not.

You don’t need to reference my blackness or your whiteness all the time. Please feel free to NOT point out our differences in music, culture, hair, skin color, slang and dancing ability because rest assured, you’re probably going to offend me in the process. Yes, I wrap my hair at night and will be pissed if it gets wet in the rain. No, I’ve never seen Good Hair and I really don’t care about your opinions on weaves and relaxers. Please don’t jokingly use words like “axe” for “ask” and “finna” for “about to” because although you may be kidding, in reality, you’re insulting me. I speak proper English, just like you. My friends speak proper English, just like yours. When I do speak familiarly with someone, it’s because I’m familiar with said someone. You just met me. We’re not familiar yet. But guess what? I never say axe because I’m literate and I know what sounds letters make when they’re put together. See how riled up I’ve gotten? How about this? Pretend you’re “colorblind” and speak to me the same way you would speak to a non-Black woman. It will work out in your favor.

I blame Barack Obama and MTV Jams for you believing you have to prove to me how down for the cause you are. Barack Obama is the President of the United States so if you want kudos for letting me know you voted for him, you’re not getting them. At least 51% of Americans voted for him and because I’m too lazy to look up the actual percentage *insert racial stereotype here*, you’re just gonna have to believe me. As far as music is concerned, axing me if I’ve heard that new Jay-Z or making a bling or swag comment will cause me to go into obligatory black girl eye roll. Pop culture is just that, popular. It’s not just a black thang anymore and steering our conversations to the urban side of it is condescending as hell. I happen to like white people pop culture, as well as black people pop culture. I voted for Rahm Emmanuel. You don’t hear me bringing that up, do you? (Did you know that our mayor is Jewish?) I’m much more than my black skin and my experiences, hobbies, and interests include more than those things you saw on Black in America. I’m not impressed that you know who Lil Wayne and Beyonce are, as well.

The last thing I need you to understand is that I’m not the Official Authority on Black People Stuff. I don’t have the definitive answer to all things Negro. Don’t ask me why do all Black people do random things like put apostrophes in our kid’s names or buy big rims for our cars. Hell I don’t know! My name literally means “white wave” making it more white than Amy and Becky and my Camry has hubcaps that are pretty unshiny. I spent my first two years of college speaking on behalf of all black people and that was more than enough. I just don’t know what we think about Herman Cain, but the next time we have the Black Folks meeting, I’ll make sure I get our official position.

Interracial dating is difficult, especially for Black women with all of the negative stereotypes we have to overcome before we’re even recognized as not being the caricatures we’re portrayed as by the media. I’ve given Others a chance, hell I married one (and ended up with the most non-Asian stereotype of a mother-un-law one could ever hope to imagine). If you’re serious about dating me, or any other black woman, the first thing you need to understand is that you’re dating an individual so shed the imagery you got from that Tyler Perry show you caught a glimpse of before the Bulls game came on. Black women aren’t one size fits all. If we believed everything we got from TV and the movies, we’d never give you a chance in the first place…is it true that all white men have small, pink penises? See how that goes?

Sincerely (and I’m being so sincere),

Not your Soul Sista

Dating (Is) For Dummies

I don’t like dating. Actually, I despise it with every fiber of my being. The entire process completely turns me off: meeting someone, talking or texting, setting up a date that doesn’t conflict with either of our busy schedules, meeting, realizing he isn’t as cute as he was the night I met him, being bored out of my mind because he’s boring as shit, and finally the awkward goodbye. Dating is the pits, but I’ve learned the ropes and picked up a few dos and don’ts along the way.

Turn your ringer off I went out with a man who spent the entire ride to the restaurant on the phone. The call kept dropping so every 6 minutes, his loud ass annoying ringtone chimed alerting him to pick up the phone so his sister could finish telling him what happened to her and their cousin in Miami. He asked me if I minded before he started talking to her and I even talked to her, too (we go way back) but that phone rang ALL NIGHT LONG!!! Text messages, phone calls, emails, etc. Instead of putting the phone on vibrate, this fool let the sucker ring. He never answered after we got to the restaurant, but that didn’t stop whoever was trying to reach him from trying. Finally, I had to say “Pretty Boy who’s only getting a second chance because you’re so pretty, your ever-chiming phone is annoying. Put that shit on vibrate!” He obliged, but not before he firmly cemented himself in No More Dates For You Land, pretty face and all.

Anticipate Sex Oh don’t give me that “I don’t do blah blah blah on the first date.” Shit happens!! As a rule, I don’t either, but I also don’t ever say never. So what do you do when things are going fabulously, you go back to your place for a cup of coffee, the kissing turns to that thing that happens after kissing and SHIT!!! Your crotch, underarms, and legs look like Cousin Itt, you don’t have a single condom, and there are clothes ALL OVER YOUR BEDROOM FLOOR!!! Your three month rule is going to remain intact because you forgot to grab a few items from Walgreens. Oh quit fronting like you don’t like sex! That good girl, I don’t usually do this crap is played out. Men also need to get over the “if she slept with me on the first night then who else has she slept with on the first night” foolishness, too. Chances are, it doesn’t happen very often for either of you but when people place stipulations on nature and not prepare for sex, they end up risking their lives and livelihoods having unprotected sex. I’m not advocating having sex on the first, second, or ANY date. What I am saying is be prepared for it.

Stay Sober This goes for everyone, men AND women. Who the hell blames it on the alcohol anymore? Inebriation puts you in a state of vulnerability and unless you’re extremely comfortable with your companion, sobriety is your best bet. Drunkenness will have you saying and doing things you wouldn’t do sober. Yeah, I get that drunk actions are sober thoughts, but inhibitions are what separate us from people who appear on reality shows. Once your inhibitions have been totally eradicated by those shots of Patron, the evening becomes an episode of Blind Date without those funny popups. Not everyone manifests intoxication in the same manner (I’m a get naked, get in bed and go to sleep drunk), so while you might be an amorous drunk, your date may be a belligerent drunk who gets really pissed off when you decide you love everyone at the bar. My advice: save the shots for a night out with your friends and alternate every drink with a glass of water when you’re on a date.

I’m sure there are plenty of things I’ve missed: make sure you have a sitter, wear deodorant, dress appropriately (stilettos at the movies just don’t work and neither does a white tee at…well, everywhere) but from a person who hates to date, these work well for me. Dating comes with all kinds of unspoken rules and as a professional non-dater, I listen to my friends complain about their crappy dates and giggle a little inside. If they knew like I knew how much dating sucks, they wouldn’t be having all these issues.

Urban Legends

Once upon a time, every problem in a sitcom relationship was solved before the half hour episode was over. Cliff apologized to Claire. Martin got a kiss and his ears groped by Gina. Fancy giggled at Jamie’s antics and attributed his buffoonery to “Jamie being Jamie”. Fortunately, shows like Girlfriends and The Game showcase relationships slightly more realistically. Thirty minutes isn’t nearly enough time to fix Jill’s hurt feelings after Tim made fun of her snoring on “Tool Time”. (Although Jill probably should have gotten over it since she blew out Tim’s engine because she didn’t recognize the “check engine” light meant check the flippin’ engine). The same way life doesn’t work the way it does on television, some of the things we believe about relationships don’t work either. Here are some common myths that just don’t cut it:

Having a baby saves everything This is the single most foolish thing I’ve ever heard of, and in this day and age, people STILL believe it will work. If your relationship is on shaky ground, shitty diapers and projectile vomit won’t be fixing much, now will it? Bringing a life into this world to prove your commitment to each other is about as dumb as (I’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes trying to think of something as equally dumb as having a baby to keep a man and I have yet to come up with anything remotely close). Raising a child together requires more than just the 30 seconds it took to make one. If you want him to marry you, having his child isn’t going to get you an engagement ring. Teething ring, perhaps but no diamonds. From what I’ve gathered, many men don’t equate doing the right thing to marrying the mother of their child(ren). In some cases, the baby happens to come before the marriage, and the marriage works out but this is not the norm. There wouldn’t be so many single parents if life worked out that way. The only guarantee of having a kid with someone is that your child will have half of his DNA and half of yours. Children are not weapons in your little Love War, so unless the two of you are committed to each other 100%, invest in some birth control.

Love is all you need You’re joking, right? Marriage is a business contract between two people who love each other and have decided to devote the rest of their lives to one another. You need a license to get married and a judge to end it. Sounds like a legal transaction to me. Yeah there are other things involved, but you can have a commitment without a marriage license. Many people go into marriage without the clear understanding that love can’t fix everything. Being in love is a chemical imbalance…yeah I said it! All those butterflies and palpitations you felt when you were dating are from completely different reasons after marriage. Where will we live? How will we raise the kids? Can we afford to take this trip? The superficial “in love” is replaced by a much deeper love that stems from mutual respect, friendship and understanding so if all you have to go on is “he gives me goosebumps,” the cute way he chews his French toast is gonna piss you off a few years down the road. Getting married for love only isn’t enough, because it takes a lot more than love to make a marriage work. One would assume you’re together because you love each other and you haven’t married every man you’ve loved so there must be something more to it. As much as I loved my ex-husband, it wasn’t enough to hold together our marriage. I couldn’t trust him to do anything (and I mean things like trust him to not leave the backdoor wide open all night long). Love is only one piece of the 1000 piece marriage puzzle, so if that’s all you’ve got to go on, you might wanna wait until you’ve figured out where some of the other pieces fit.

Steve Harvey Are you really about to follow the advice of a man who wore a wig and twenty button suits? For real, son?!? Never mind the fact that he’s been married five times (ok, so maybe he likes the way women look in veils and white dresses), when did STEVE HARVEY become a relationship guru? Ok, here I am, the pot calling the kettle black since I spend a lot of time dishing out advice. What I do, though, is offer my humble opinion based on my experience and present it as such. Nothing I’ve ever said is a steadfast rule, only wisdom I’ve gained from my own failures and successes. I would NEVER say that what works for me will work for every single woman on the planet, so I find it very concerning when a man gives a woman rules on how to get a man. Women shouldn’t have to alter their thinking to get a man. A guy I know said something that made a lot of sense…he asked if I ever wondered why there isn’t a similar book like Steve Harvey’s geared toward men. There might be, but I can guarantee it didn’t make New York Times bestseller list. Why? Because men don’t need anyone telling them how to think and neither do you! Advice isn’t, and should never be, a steadfast rule. I say this all the time, if you want to know what’s going on with your mate: ASK THEM!!!! Remember that episode of The Boondocks when Grandpa was dating the chick who was getting ridiculous advice from her crazy friend and blew herself up in the end? Add it to your “must watch” list, throw away that Steve Harvey book and when you have a question about someone, ASK THEM!!!!

We have a bad habit of trying to apply TV logic to real life and it NEVER works. Ever! There’s a show on The Discovery Channel called Mythbusters that proves many urban legends to be fallacious, created by Hollywood to make us believe that we live in a cool place where solutions are no more than two hours away. We believe in Dr. Phil and Steve Harvey because they’re famous and famous people MUST know what they’re talking about. They don’t…but you do. Listen to yourself, your mind, your heart, your mate. The day you believe the Urban Legends is the day you’re doomed…Temple of Doom.

Let It Go

We all have baggage. Some of us carry ours in a cute little bag that we hide in our underwear drawer and only take out when we’re PMSing while others lug theirs around in a Louis Vuitton Speedy 40. There are some who keep theirs in a garbage bag on the front seat of their car and others who’ve locked a laundry bag up tight in the front hall closet only to have it come spilling out anytime a guest comes over and tries to hang up their coat. No matter how loudly a woman proclaims to not have any baggage, she does. Our lives are shaped from our experiences and how we handle them and not one of us has emerged from a life-altering tribulation without a package. Some situations take a lot longer to let go of, but life can’t go on until you’ve emptied some of those huge bags, put them in a storage unit, and buy some smaller, compact bags incapable of holding much more than what you need to learn from your past.

Superficial baggage is the most common and the easiest to shed. You were poor growing up, your mother gave you a Jheri curl, and your clothes came from Kmart. Yes, I’m talking about myself. I didn’t hit my fabulous peak until college and even then I was a little sketchy. So what your body is flat in all the wrong places or someone posted and tagged bad pictures of you on facebook. Get over yourself! No one gives a rat’s ass. I used to drive a 1994 Ford Tempo…in 2000…and I STILL valeted my car WHERE EVER I went! I care very little what others think of me and I refuse to let the purse that I carry contain foolishness like the fact that I could only afford the medium patent leather handbag and not the large one my best friend bought.

Friendship baggage is almost as bad as boyfriend baggage. Women tend to hold on to mediocre friendships for the sake of sisterhood when in fact, friendships are quite similar to relationships. You wouldn’t keep a lying, deceitful, untrustworthy man around so why on earth do women hold on to other women who possess the same characteristics? I try not to tell too many personal stories (to protect the not so innocent) but I had a friend who didn’t trust me…for good reason, but I digress. She wanted to “make it work” when all I wanted her to do was keep her crazy ass away from me. Everyone isn’t meant to be friends and shouldn’t try to be. Now she hates my guts…and NOT for good reason, when all she had to do was realize our friendship, like a relationship with a guy, just wasn’t going to work. If you have a crappy girlfriend, treat her like you would a crappy boyfriend and LET HER GO!

Family baggage requires more than just a wise-cracking, smart ass with a blog and a summer’s worth of posts about random foolishness. If you hate your mother: YOU NEED THERAPY! If you’ve been sexually abused by your uncle: YOU NEED THERAPY! If you just met your father for the first time and you’re 30: YOU NEED THERAPY!!!!! Before someone gets offended, hear me out. All of these things are traumatic and potentially damaging to one’s psyche and emotional well-being. Many black women look at therapy as a sign of weakness when in fact, seeking help for a situation you can’t handle is showing great courage and strength. We could all use someone to talk to during a difficult time, and if your entire childhood was difficult, you can’t just sweep it under the rug and rock an S on your chest for Strong Black Woman. So what you read TD Jakes, Iyanla Vanzant, and Steve Harvey; they don’t have the cure for what ails you. A licensed therapist does and as long as you continue to pretend that you can handle being beaten daily as a child with a broomstick, you will always drag a very large set of luggage. Do yourself a favor, call the bellhop and let someone help you with those bags.

I’ve tried to rid myself of baggage, it’s a daily struggle and a work in progress. I’m taking baby steps to empty one bag at a time. What’s crazy about an empty bag is that someone or something always wants to try to fill it up again. Make the choice to either get rid of the bag or zip it up and put a lock on it. Let. It. Go.

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