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Am I Too Old To Wait For the “Perfect Guy”?

Recently, I’ve been dating men that are extremely nice, caring, considerate and all of that flowery Barney stuff. However, in most cases, they simply have not been my type. They’ve either been unattractive (I need to be able to look at the guy I’m dating), not tall enough (I like em over 6 feet) or just bizarre.
So what is my type? Glad you asked.

Exhibit A

large_9368388339photo credit: Kris Kesiak Photography via photopincc

This is my ideal type of guy. He’s tall, handsome, smart and has his life together. So if that’s my type, why do I continue to date the Gary Colemans of the world?

At the ripe age of 27.8, I can no longer afford to have a type! I don’t want to end up old and alone. As such, everything has to appeal to me: short, fat, ugly, green, bug, lamp, EVERYTHING. In essence, I’m broadening the pool of men available to me. I just hope, that in the end, I can stomach being with and around the man that I marry. I don’t ask too much, I just want to stomach him!

What do you think, is there an age limit on waiting for the “perfect guy”?


The First Kiss Diss


The other night, I went on a date with this guy. At the end of our outing, he walked me to my car and we lingered a bit. I must admit that I was not listening to a word he said because the entire time I was thinking, Is he going to try and kiss me?’ and ‘If he does try to kiss me, which matrix move will I have to pull to get out of the way?’

I eventually made my way to my door and he assisted me into my seat. He stood right next to me, said some joke about a kiss and then leaned in. My spider senses went into overdrive! I immediately lifted my left arm and softly pushed him away. He then said, “Well let me just kiss you on the cheek.” Before he could lean in too far, I pushed him away again, this time with a bit more force. Although this was all done in a playful manner, I felt HORRIBLE after the fact; so much so, that I ended up apologizing the next day!

I just really didn’t want to be kissed. But that was no excuse to diss him! *slaps self on wrist*

Has anyone else ever committed a first kiss diss?

Photo courtesy of Stockimages – FreeDigitalPhotos


Is It Possible to Over-Communicate?

The other day, I went on a date and I was asked : “Are you the type that likes to be around your significant other all the time and talk all day? Or do you have a life?”

photoExcuuuuuuuuuuse me?!

First of all, if that wasn’t a leading question, I don’t know what is! Second of all, hell yea I’m that type! I’ve no shame in admitting it. If I’m in like with someone, or even just in interest with them, I want to talk to them all the time. That’s how you get to know someone, right!?

The past few men (<—and I use this term loosely) that I’ve dated seemed to have a serious fear of communication (unless of course, I’m not as interesting as I think I am). One guy NEVER charged his phone. It was LITERALLY always dead. And unless I wanted to communicate with him via pigeon mail, we just didn’t talk. Another guy would say “good morning” at 9:00am and then disappear, never to be heard from again, until 9:00pm. 12 hours of non communication!?!? What is a girl supposed to do with that!? By the time he contacted me, I was far too annoyed to deal with his chicanery. Our “relationship” soon ended.

I don’t know about anyone else, but I cannot form a bond unless there is CONSISTENT communication. I just can’t. Now, it’s very possible that I’ve been spoiled rotten by my previous boyfriend. We talked every second of every day. Like me, he was ALWAYS on his phone, always on gchat, always in his email. I couldn’t shake him. But I loved it! I felt like it showed a certain level of commitment and interest (He, of course, turned out to be the worst kind of cheater. But that’s neither here nor there).

I want that connectedness with the next guy that I date.
Am I asking too much?


Special Shoutout


This is a special shoutout to my good friend Angela, who left a beautiful response to my latest post, What’s Love Without Passion?
Thank you for sharing your perspective!
And, yes. She’s one of the lucky ones who will soon be walking down the aisle. Congrats!

Peep Angela’s response below :

“Many relationships start out with PASSION! But a lot of times when real life hits- bills, unemployment, family problems, death of loved ones, illness, etc- you see that person at their worst and it can be hard to remain passionate. But marriage is full of ups and downs. That giddy butterfly- I’m so obsessed with this boy- feeling comes and goes. It’s hard to be passionate when the man you idolize just let go a fart that almost killed you.

But when you find that one- the hard, bad awful times- seem like nothing- because the awesome wonderful passionate head over heels feelings always come back. And they always feel new when they do.

I’ve found that the most important thing about finding the one you will marry is that they are the one who helps you grow in your relationship with God. After that, the rest is easy.

Sorry for the blog on your blog.”


What’s Love Without Passion?


Many of my friends and family members have recently jumped the broom, tied the knot and surrendered their eternities to some significant somebody. *cough* lucky bastards *cough*.

I am genuinely happy for all those who have found “the one”. Really, I am! However, it seems like some people are entering into relationships and marriages with people that they’re merely in like with, or worse, in lust. They’re more caught up in the idea of marriage and the idea of partnership than the actual feeling of love. The truth is that a lot of these people are in dead end relationships, with dead end partners, heading towards dead end futures. And yet, the ideas make them stay.

That’s all fine and dandy . . . for them.  However, when it comes to me, I don’t want a lackluster love. I want passion. I want to be engulfed by and overcome with genuine feelings of love when I think about my husband. I want to be impregnated by his undying desire and eventually birth our 9 month old future. I want passion. And for that, I’d wait a lifetime.

 For if love is anything less than passionate, what’s the point?

Photo courtesy of Digitalart – FreeDigitalPhotos


Giving Your Number to Strangers Can Be Dangerously Annoying


OMG! Cigarette Breath won’t leave me be! I really thought I was done with him. However, as the dating gods would have it, he continues to torment my life! How is that possible? Well . . . *looks down in shame* . . . I made the mistake of giving him my phone number. Don’t judge me! Sometimes it’s easier to just give it out and ignore.

Anydoodle, this man has been calling and texting me every second of the day. And the crazy part is that I have NEVER responded to him. NEVER. Here’s how “our” convos have gone :


“I ain’t tryna bug or pester u lol”? But that’s EXACTLY what he’s doing! And how dare he end that sentence with an “lol”. There is nothing funny about this sir.

Suggestions From Friends

A couple of my friends have suggested that I just tell him that I’m not interested! One even suggested I tell him that I died and came back as a ghost just to inform him of such. Disturbingly enough, this option was on the table for quite some time.

Why The Non-Response?

I don’t want to respond to him. That’s reason enough! Trust me, I know his type! You send one response and the flood gates open up. I’d soon be inundated with messages like : “Give me a chance!” or “I’m the best you’ve never had.” Ok Beyonce. Just stop! My life is neither ready nor prepared for that right now.

A part of me does feel bad for ignoring him, especially since I did give him my number freely and willingly. However, I felt a tremendous sense of relief once I blocked him.

Moral of the story : Never give your number out if you’re not genuinely interested in communicating.


Jesus is on Tour With Kanye West

image copy 3

This past weekend I went to a gospel show with my guy friend Fisher. I decided to get fancy for the spiritual celebration. However, I wasn’t doing it for the Lord, (Sorry Jesus. I have to keep it real), I was doing it for Fisher! I wanted him to sing my praises in seven different languages when he saw me.

What Actually Happened

Fisher called me once he arrived outside of my house. I took my precious time before heading out. *You have to build anticipation!*

I walked to his car with my hair blowing in the wind (but with 50 pounds of hair in my head, it was probably as still as an oil painting). After I realized that he was parked 500 miles away and couldn’t see the show that I was putting on, I scurried along. When I arrived at his car and sat inside, I was greeted by the sweet serenade of . . .


He said absolutely nothing about the way I looked. Fuchsia lipstick….nothing. Curly hair …nothing. Knee high boots (for goodness sake!)…nothing. I figured he was in so much awe and wonderment, that he could not find the words to say. I soon directed his attention to the jewelry that I made, because you can’t be too proud to fish for compliments. Anywho, I showed him the set of mini handcuffs (don’t ask me why I have them) that I converted into a double finger ring.


When he saw the ring he said : “You’re wearing handcuffs to a spiritual event?”. I said, “Yes! Good thing Jesus is away on tour with Kanye West at the moment. Hopefully Mary and Joseph are there too.”

The nerve!
Apparently I missed one of the commandments : Thou shall not wear hand cuff rings in the presence of the Lord. 

What a waste…of life and of lipstick.


“I Love That Skin Color On You”

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Saturday night I went to a lounge with one of my good friends. We were dancing around and minding our own business, when all of a sudden, I noticed this man staring at me. He looked like he wanted to devour my entire life and have my after life for dessert.

For obvious reasons, I avoided his gaze. I was pretty successful at ignoring him until he came over and asked me to dance. I could have said no. After all, I was pretty exhausted from dancing with air all night. However, I decided to give him a chance.

We walked over to the dance floor and started dancing, face-to-face. Within minutes, I was overcome by the strong smell of cigarettes. I literally thought my lungs were going to emerge from my mouth and slap us both. I soon decided to turn around and dance, butt-to-gut. He then whispered in my ear :

Cigarette Breath : “Turn around so I can see that beautiful face.”
Me : *holds breath and turns around*
Cigarette Breath : “I love that skin color on you.”
Me : *Blank stare* “I have to go.”

I really did not know how to handle that comment! I love that skin color on you?! As if I had a choice when getting dressed for the night. Hmmm, what skin color should I put on tonight : white, yellow, blue, brown? No Cigarette Breath. I do not have different skin colors hanging in my closet. No Cigarette Breath. My chocolate skin is not an accessory. No Cigarette Breath. I was neither flattered nor impressed by your statement.

Now I know that he meant not a bit of harm. However, that statement gave me the fuel that I needed to propel my butt and my lungs away from him and back to the air (<— Don’t underestimate air….best dance partner ever).

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The Difficulties of Dating in Los Angeles


This weekend, I attended an HBCU greek alumni party. I know….mistake #1!
Anywho, I was quickly reminded of why dating in Los Angeles is so difficult. Here’s what happened :

Girls Dressed Like Strippers

It was hot as hell’s oven in this factory-like room turned “lounge”. However, the deathly heat did not explain why girls were wearing barely-there shorts and nowhere-to-be-found shirts. How can anyone (with dignity) compete with that?! You can’t! You either sit back and watch the foolery ensue or you join in! *looks up shamelessly and tosses dignity out the window* I broke out my Jamaican-themed daisy dukes and joined in!


But who gon check me boo?

Professional Pervs

We were packed like baby sardines in this venue. I literally couldn’t move. There was one individual, however, who capitalized on this environment.
*Enter perverted busboy*

This height-challanged midget man would feel me UP and DOWN every time he passed by! The first time I thought I was imagining things. But after the third time, I was ready to drop kick him and Miley Cyrus twerk on his face! He was good though. Every time I turned around, he was half way gone. That’s a professional perv for ya!!

Laughing Hyena

The daisy dukes brought a few boys to the yard (not the one that I came with unfortunately -_-. More on that later). This one guy came up to me and started a conversation. All I can remember is that he laughed at EVERYTHING that I said. Don’t get me wrong. I know I’m funny. But geez, I could have called his mom a b*tch in any number of euphemistic ways, and he would have laughed his insides out. Next!

My Boo’s Disappearing Act

The guy that I’m currently dating was actually present at the party. Can you guess how many times I saw him? Two!! Two frigging times in three whole hours. Once at the beginning and once at the end -_-. Throughout the night he would text me saying “I’m looking for you.” or “I can’t find you.” Unbeknownst to him, I was standing on a platform and could see him raising the roof and dancing around like a lunatic WHILST he claimed to be frantically searching for me. Foolery’s finest work.

One Final Act

I left the ratchet turnup and headed to my car with a friend. While walking, this random man decided to join us on the journey. He started talking to me and I noticed that he had an accent. Our conversation proceeded :

Me : “You have an accent. Where is it from?”
Him : “I went on a vacation to the Dominican Republic.”
Me : “You picked up an accent from a vacation?”
Him : “Yea. I liked it”
Me : “Please dismiss yourself.”

I was too through with that night!

But I learned a valuable lesson : If you’re thinking about dating in LA, don’t.

Photos courtesy of :
Porbital – FreeDigitalPhotos
Pong – FreeDigitalPhotos


I Accidentally Fell In Love With A Homosexual Man

Has anyone ever dated a homosexual man/woman, by accident? Oh, just me? That’s cool. Well, I’m not ashamed to admit that my VERY first boyfriend was gay, or bi-curious as he put it. Yep, he was a flaming queen flying high on the reading rainbow.

How did I not know?

Some of you may be questioning my ability to select a fitting mate. To all of you I say, “Screw you. It could have happened to anyone!” I promise you, other than the one time that he asked me to pluck his eyebrows, I got no indication that he was gay. Nothing! (For most, that probably would have been indication enough). No mysterious calls. No late night excursions in the Castro district of San Francisco. No questionable male friends. Nothing!

All I know is, one day I was in a happy committed relationship and the next day my best friend was pulling me to the side and saying:

Best friend: “You know your boyfriend’s gay right?”
Me: “Huh? What do you mean?”
Best friend: “Oh. I thought I was pretty clear. He likes frolicking with men!”
Me: *tears* “Was it something I did?!”
Best friend: “Probably.”
Me: -_-

Needless to say, I ended our relationship that very day. And I won’t lie. I cried a bit. I was sad! Reason one, I thought I had the uncanny superpower of turning straight men gay. Every girl’s dream, right?! Reason two, my first EVER boyfriend was gay and I was his frigging beard! How rude!  This experience really jacked me up going forward. To this day, I’m very suspicious of the men that I date. If he has too many male friends, he’s on my radar. If he walks like he has a bit of sugar in his tank, he’s on my radar. If he asks me to pluck his eyebrows, he’s OFF my radar and OUT of my life!

I don’t have time for the foolery! Please tell me that I’m not alone on this one. Has anyone else ever dated someone who was gay (or bi-curious)?