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Wait. You Have A Child AND An Ex-Wife?

Let’s get right to the point! The other night, I was out on a 3rd date with a young red-headed gentleman. We were having a few drinks when out of nowhere he said: “Ask me some questions ABOUT ME?” Sidebar: I have a tendency to talk about myself a lot, so this question did not seem outside of the norm. I can’t quite remember what I asked him, but whatever it was got the following answer:

Red Head: “I was married, but I recently got divorced.”

Me: *Jaw hits floor* “Wait, what? Are you serious?”

Red Head: “Yes.”

Me: *Takes a BIG sip of wine* “Oh. Ok. Do you have any kids?”

Red Head: “Yes. I have a two-year-old son.”

Me: *Drinks entire glass of wine*

After about two minutes of me staring at him with the blankest of blank expressions, he broke the silence by asking me if I wanted to see his child. I said ‘yes’, but in my mind I was screaming ‘No, no, no, no, no!’ I know that sounds mean, but the truth will always set me free!

I had no desire to see his child, at least not in that moment. I was too busy trying to pick my jaw up from off the floor, refill my empty wine glass and piece together what the heck just happened! After I composed myself and fixed my expressionless face, we carried on with our date and then went our separate ways. I decided not to continue seeing him.

To clarify, I don’t have anything against men that have babies or that have been married. I just prefer not to date them. I’ve tried it before and it wasn’t the most pleasant experience (not that I think ALL of my experiences will be the same, but still. It gave me a good idea of what I can expect when dating someone with a child.)

The problem that I had with this situation is that he waited until the 3rd date to drop this bomb on me. Had he told me on the first date, I could have saved him a whole lot of time, money and gas. Just saying!

When I asked him why he waited so long to tell me, he said: “I didn’t have an opportunity to bring it up on our previous dates.”

Now I don’t have the best of memories, but I DO recall asking him on our first date about his previous relationships. Yep. I definitely did! I feel like that would have been the PERFECT time to mention an ex-wife AND a baby! Am I right or am I right? I just don’t feel that it was the best strategy to wait until the 3rd date to deliver such critical information.

But, I very well could be wrong. So I’d like to hear from you all! When would you expect your date to tell you if he/she had a child/ex-wife/ex-husband?


I Fell In Love With a Stranger

The other day, I met up with an old colleague in Santa Monica for some midday drinkery. A few beers into our outing, we decided to head across the street to another bar. Before doing so, this blue-eyed, blonde-haired man (Harlem) sat down to my immediate left. I glanced over at him as he sat and our eyes met. Being the awkward introvert that I am, I quickly smiled and averted my gaze.

I didn’t say a word to my colleague about his presence, but I could tell that she noticed him too. I mean, how could you NOT? He was GORGE!

Long story short, I was attempting to tie a floral wreath around my friend’s head (don’t ask!). The struggle was too real. After ten failed attempts, I finally got it to stay! She, quite cleverly, took that as an opportunity to pull my blue-eyed neighbor into our conversation:

Coworker: “She went to Berkeley and can’t even tie this thing on my head!”
Harlem: *giggles*
MeMarry me! (in my head, of course)
Harlem: “I love flowers! Blah blah blah…beautiful…blah blah blah….my favorite is blah blah blah…”

He went on for an eternity about his love for flowers. I found it a bit odd and concerning, but I soon forgave him for the strange obsession. I figured that he’d be able to pick the perfect flowers for our wedding!

Anywho, my coworker soon excused herself to the restroom and there I was, left alone. Just me, my awkwardness and him. He immediately broke through the silence by asking me about my studies at Berkeley. We got to talking and I told him about my time in Cambodia. Then, the most AMAZING thing happened!

He moved his chair closer to me. Whaaaaaaaat?!

We talked. We laughed. We planned out our lives together (Okay, that may have been just me!). Then, my coworker returned from the restroom. Darn! I was kind of hoping that she’d get lost in a closet world, like in The Chronicles of Narnia! But, sadly, that didn’t happen.

She and I started gathering our belongings to head over to the next bar and she decided to invite Harlem to join us. He smirked and said:

Harlem: “Ordinarily, I would have said no, but you girls are really cool. And Cynthia has to finish telling me about Cambodia. So I’ll meet you guys over there!”
MeI love you

At the next bar, I kept checking the entrance door like a mad woman. My coworker said: “Cynthia! Stop. He’s not coming. If he wanted to come, he would have left WITH us.”

I agreed.

I soon headed to the restroom to empty out my bladder. After waiting in front of the girl’s restroom for what seemed like hours, I finally decided to duck into the men’s restroom. I locked the door and twisted the knob to make sure that it was locked. The door opened. I locked it again, (thinking that I twisted the switch the wrong way the first time around). Checked it. The door still opened! Just my luck! This was one of those doors that opened, no matter which way you turned the switch.

So I said “f— it!” and I made a mad dash for the toilet. I pushed with all my might and prayed to the heavens that no one tried to open the door while I was stooping over this toilet! I finished in record time. Washed my hands. Then went for the door. At the same moment that I was opening the door, someone on the outside was also attempting to get in. I pushed. He pulled. The door opened.

It was Harlem.

We locked eyes (again) and immediately started laughing. I mean, there I was coming out of the men’s restroom for goodness sakes (Good thing I only did #1!!!)! I played it cool and told him that I was glad he could make it over. I let him into the restroom and high-tailed it out of there. As I hurried back to share the good news with my coworker, the unthinkable happened!

I fell!

As soon as I realized that I had lost my fight with gravity, I quickly popped back up. My audience of about seven young kids looked up at me, giggled, then one pointed at me and yelled, “Nailed it!”

Mortified, I made my way back to my coworker and filled her in on all of the embarrassment that consumed my life for the past ten minutes. She laughed, but like most people in my life, she understood that this type of stuff happens to me ALL the time!

Okay. Time to wrap things up! Long story short, Harlem and I started back up with our convo. We flirted. Shared a few innocent touches. And just had a really good time. After an hour or so, my coworker decided to head home.

Harlem and I stayed behind and decided to grab a bit to eat. On the way there, he climbed into a tree and watched as I tried to jump as high as I could to touch some random storefront sign. It was complete ridiculousness. I don’t know why he was in the tree or how he got up there, but I loved it. And him (as you’ll recall).

*Contrary to what you may be thinking, the events of this night were not influenced by the use of any type of drug.*

We finally got something to eat and he filled me in on his life. In short, he’s a paramedic “of some sort” and he’s “technically in the Navy” (So many questions, so little time!) He was born in Harlem, NY and now lives in San Diego.

After we finished, he walked me to my car and we exchanged numbers. We said our goodbyes and did the whole stare-at-each-other-as-we-walk-away thing. I got in my car, prepared to reverse, looked back to check for him and he was gone. He just vanished! In the blink of an eye, there was no trace of him.

I don’t know if Harlem and I will ever talk or see each other again, but because of him, I had one EPIC night and I got to fall in love with a complete stranger!


My Phone Rang and It Was Another Man

Last night I went to a dine-in movie with this guy that I met. We’ll call him Slim! We had just finished watching Exodus in 3D.

As we were making our way to his car, I heard the faint ring of a phone. I quickly prayed to the heavens that it wasn’t mine, because, you know, that’s rude. But as the gods would have it, it WAS my phone. And that’s not it. The person calling me, was another guy that I had recently met. He was not only calling, he was Facetiming me!! Whoa there!

I tried to hide my phone before Slim caught on to the disaster that was unfolding in my right hand. However, when my phone rings, it flashes an LED light, over and over again. So Slim noticed! And he asked, “Are you going to answer that?”

I looked at him. I looked at my phone. Looked back at him. Looked back at my phone. Boy was I in a pickle! And unfortunately, the way that FaceTime works is that it will ring until all the cows come home and are fast asleep! It rang incessantly! It wouldn’t stop!! Thus increasing the awkwardness.

There we were, in the elevator. I was trying to ignore the ringing, flashing phone that was going off in my hand, all the while hoping that it would just STOP. Naturally, it didn’t. I started pushing all of the TWO buttons on my iPhone in hopes that it would cease its foolery. It was to no avail!

Eventually, Slim caught a glimpse of the name and photo (curse me for adding photos to my contacts!) of the guy calling. Thus began a line of questioning and jokes about “who is [insert guy’s name] and why won’t you answer? Are you married? Is that your husband?”

After about five minutes of this awkwardness, I ended up just turning my phone off and pretending like none of it ever happened!

Once the night was done and I made my way back home, I checked my phone and I had a text message from Mr. I’m-Going-To-Mess-Your-Date-Up-By-Facetiming-You! He wrote, “Hey! Did you butt dial me? It looks like you were calling me.”

Oopsie! It was me that was Facetiming him that entire time!

*Sigh* This is why I’m single. My life is sabotaging me!


I at least looked nice!


How to Cope with a Breakup

Yesterday, at 2:30pm, my boyfriend broke up with me. In his words, he “couldn’t handle the long distance anymore.”


When it happened, I went through the normal post-breakup emotions. I first played tough like I wasn’t bothered by the news. “I’m better without him anyway”, right? Then it all hit me and I broke down for a few minutes. I called him back so that he could explain “what happened”, even though it really didn’t matter at that point. I then shared the news with a few of my friends and got the typical “Oh no, I’m so sorry Onye.” Yea, yea, yea.

I spent the rest of the day trying to keep my mind occupied with other thoughts like, Why can’t unicorns be real? and Where’s a double rainbow when ya need one? I fell asleep with the promise to myself that I would not let this breakup consume me or break me down.

Today, almost an entire day later, I woke up feeling….fine. Naturally, I have urges to pick up the phone and contact the man that’s been one of my best friends for the past few months. However, I understand my reality. That man, as I’ve come to know him, is dead to me. We no longer exist. Fortunately for me, I’ve been through a REALLY bad breakup before. Twice actually. As such, I’m at a point where my pain has plateaued and I just feel numb.

I’ll miss him. However, I will move on. Here’s how:

Stay Away

He and I were in a long distance relationship, so that helps with the breakup. For those of you who don’t have the luxury of 3,000 miles between you and your ex, it’ll be a bit harder. You’ll have to take extra steps to ensure that you remain as far away as possible from your ex. Avoid them like the plague. There is no greater truth than the saying, “out of sight, out of mind.” As soon as I got off the phone and realized that I’d be a single cat lady for the rest of my life, I deleted my ex from everything. EVERYTHING! Some may call it childish, but that’s how I cope. We’re not lovers. We can’t be friends (although this was suggested *blank stare*). We’re nothing. As such, I took steps to ensure that I don’t have to see or hear from him again.

Stay Busy

The worst thing you can do after a breakup is sit in your room, listening to Sam Smith songs and feeling sorry for yourself. Get up, get out and do something productive. Find something to fill the void that’s been created by your ex-lover’s departure. For me, that’s writing and photography. For you, it could be hanging with friends, running, painting, dancing to Beyonce songs! It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re doing something to keep your mind busy and to better yourself at the same time. Yesterday, I went to the MAC store and bought a crap load of makeup and today, I’m going to take my behind for a nice run. I don’t have time to sulk. And plus, I’m too cute for that *twirls*.

Stay Sane

Do not call and text him/her like a crazy person. Just let go. I know this is easier said than done and it’s harder when you’ve been in a relationship for a long time. However, acting like a psycho does not make matters better. Yes, I’m speaking from experience. I once drove on the wrong side of the road trying to catch up to the man who had broken my heart. Thankfully, Baby Jesus and Allstate were on my side. But that’s neither here nor there! Just don’t go crazy! Leave his/her possessions alone, don’t try to bring in family members. Just. Let. Go.

Stay smiling

Sometimes you just have to fake it until you make it. Tell yourself that you’re happy. Smile, laugh, go out and have some fun with your family and friends. There’s no point in sitting around sulking. The only things it will bring back are bags under your eyes, but not your ex! Trust me I know. I currently have designer bags under my eyes! However, I’m still smiling!




















I’ll be fine and so will you :)


“Black Men Don’t Like Black Women”?

I recently came across an interesting article over on ClutchMag. It addressed the issue of black men not liking black women. Yea, I know. This topic is far from new. However, as I was scrolling through the comments around 3:00am this morning, I came across one that made me wipe the sleep from my eyes and post a response!

Here is the offending comment :

Screenshot 2014-10-25 08.31.46

Grammatical errors aside, this comment was completely and entirely “out of order”! I assumed this was a black man that posted this foolishness (not surprised) and to him I responded:


Screenshot 2014-10-25 02.17.22

Now you know I’m in my feelings when I write a dissertation-length response, but he totally had it coming! I’ve just grown really tired of trying to convince black men that I, my black sisters and my future black daughters, are good enough. *sigh*

 Any who, feel free to leave your thoughts on this topic in the comments below!


Image courtesy of photostock at

Updates on My Dating Life

Hello everyone! Wow. It’s been a long time since I last updated this page. My apologies! I had a little run-in with the law, which led me to change my name and skip town for a little bit.


Yes. All of the above is true, except for none of it.

Honestly, I just got really busy with work and school (Oh yea, I’m a Trojan now! Fight on!). Although I’ve been on a break from posting, I have continued using OKCupid, Tinder (I know. I can’t be serious about life with this one), and most recently, Interracial Dating Central (because sometimes I like a little vanilla in my coco puffs ;-p ). Over the past few months, I’ve managed to form -2 relationships. No. That’s not a speck on your computer screen. I said negative 2 relationships! I’m actually making backwards progress!

photoThugs cry too.

So why haven’t I just given up and started a profitable chicken farm? Well, because for some reason, I still have hope! Even with my busy schedule, I’ve managed to squeeze in one or two dates here and there. Thus far, I’ve gone out with a homeless skier, a middle aged balding man and a really attractive middle eastern man who wanted to make out every few seconds (I didn’t have enough energy or EOS lip balm to be about that life). At present, I am not dating anyone and it feels strangely refreshing. I still have a few new guys knocking on my door, but I’m going to take some time to myself before I open the door to any more foolery.


If Men Were Cars, Would You Date The Honda or The Ferrari?


The other day my colleague made the following assertion :

 Men are like cars. And just like cars, they can be put into two categories : Luxury (e.g., Ferraris) or Regular (e.g., Hondas). When it comes to selecting a man to date, you should always pick the Honda over the Ferrari. Unless, of course, you want to end up alone with three little mini coopers (kids/children) to look after. (I added that last line, but still you get the point.)

The Case For Dating The Honda

Hondas are dependable, low-maintenance, decent-looking and will get you to the finish line (house and kids) with no problem. Men who fall into this category are not your CEOs or professional ball players. They’re your store managers, your accountants (God knows we love them), the ones who, ironically, sell Hondas. You won’t be able to luxuriate (love that word with all its pretentiousness) in the finer things in life when dating this type of guy. However, what you will get is stability; house, kids, time, fidelity . . . all of that.

You can leave a Honda unlocked, with windows down and gold plated seats. No one will make a ploy to steal it. The same applies to guys in this category. They’re not necessarily a hot commodity. There’s nothing flashy or eye-catching about them. This limits their exposure and attractiveness to what some like to call, heaux. They’ll also be completely faithful to you (once they make it the age of maturity…at 45ish?). They more than likely won’t work strenuous hours (unless they’re an accountant . . . my God, do they sleep?!), which means they’ll have more time to spend with you and to build and maintain a family. Like a Honda, they’re a very safe and secure option.

 The Case For Dating The Ferrari 

Vroom! Vroom! The Ferrari is attractive, high-maintenance, edgy and in high demand. This category is for your CEOs, your politicians and any other position requiring a certain degree of egotism. Men who fall into this category are handsome and/or rich (to some, they mean the same thing). They’re not sweeping the floors of McDonalds, they’re in positions of power with the wherewithal to buy your entire life. Due to their flashiness and high status, these men are usually found on everybody’s radar. Women want to screw them. Men want to be them. Think about it. What do people usually do when they see a bright red Ferrari roll down the street? They stop, stare and say : “I want that.”

When you have a man that’s handsome, rich and in a position of power, know that you’re not the only one that wants him and that will partake in him. He may be faithful. He more than likely will not be (You can’t stick a kid in a candy store and expect him/her not to eat. Have you SEEN Willy Wanka and the Chocolate Factory?!). He’ll work long hours and have many “late nights”. However, what you lose in stability and fidelity, you make up for in luxury and excitement. These men live fast and fancy lives. If they find value in you, they’ll spoil you rotten; fancy trips, expensive clothes. You name it, you got it. Some people aren’t about that life, but if you are, this type of guy may be a viable option.

What do you think?  If men (or women) were cars, which would you pick : the Honda or the Ferrari?

Image courtesy of Foto76, FreeDigitalPhotos


Valentine’s Day Already?


This was my reaction when I walked into a CVS store, ONE day after Christmas, and saw Valentine’s Day decorations everywhere. I was equal parts appalled and flabbergasted. I mean, Santa Claus hadn’t even made his way back to the North Pole and they had already started making room for Cupid!

photo 2

Now, I understand that the Targets and Walmarts of the world need to make their money and thus they must advertise. But I’d greatly appreciate it if they showed a bit more sensitivity to the plight of the single woman. Think about it, we just endured a lonely Thanksgiving, a gift-less Christmas and now we have to be reminded, weeks in advance, of an impending lonely V-day?!??! It ain’t right!

My advice to anyone expecting (as if anyone expects it) to be alone this Valentine’s Day, stay far far away from . . . life . . . until February 15th.

You’re welcome.

Image courtesy of Wallsfeed

Can You Send Me A Picture?


“Can you send me a picture?”

This has to be one of the most annoying questions that a guy can ask a girl (followed closely by “Can I come over to sip some tea and watch The Note Book with you?” #lies). Fellas, let me tell you why this question annoys me and most girls :

  • When a guy asks for a picture, it oftentimes means that he wants to see something suggestive or a supermodel-esque selfie (Yes, I’m generalizing! So sue me!). Let me set the record straight! No self-respecting girl is going to drop her Vicky Secrets for you. And unless you got Beyonce or Adriana Lima’s phone number, don’t expect a flawless picture to magically appear in your inbox.
  • Sending a picture, at the drop of a dime, entails : rolling out of bed, removing the crust from one’s eyes, and trying (in vain) to look presentable. No one has time for that. You’re more than likely going to get that one picture, that I took this one time, at band camp, when the sun was out and all the stars aligned perfectly and illuminated my face just right. Yea, I was about twelve. But that’s my go-to picture.
  • If a girl were to ask a guy to send her a picture, you know what she’d get?




photo credit: Pablo Lancaster-Jones Photo via photopin cc


Don’t Ask For My Number If You’ve No Plans Of Using It!

photo 2

The other night, I met this guy (Shorty Doowhop) and we went out to eat. After speaking with him for a few minutes, I learned that we had a lot in common. 

1. We were both Nigerian.
2. Our parents attend the same church.
3. We were both slightly inebriated.

Before the end of the night, HE asked ME if we could exchange numbers. I agreed to it. Now, somehow . . . someway, on my drive home,  my phone was stolen right off of me. I won’t lie, there’s a story behind this thievery. However, it’s too ridiculous to leave my fingertips!

Luckily he gave me his business card that night. I sent him an email and he happily resent his phone number. From there, we exchanged a couple of text messages. And by ‘a couple’, I LITERALLY mean A COUPLE! Two, dos, abụọ (for my Igbo speakers). That’s it!

He then fell straight off the face of the earth into the depths of nowheresville! Huh?! What could I possibly have said in those TWO text messages that would have turned him away? Did I not use an appropriate emoji?! Is he married?! The perplexity has no end!

On top of all this madness, Shorty Doowhop had the audacity to be short. He’s not but 5 feet and two inches of foolishness. He should be thanking baby Jesus for this long-legged goodness that came his way!


I’m not disappointed. I mean, I’m not going to chase after a little person. I just don’t understand why he asked for my number if he had no intention of using it. Why waste my time!?

The nerrrrrrrrrrrve of some people!