.winter rainbow.

•February 28, 2011 • Leave a Comment

I haven’t felt inspired to write anything lately. But I know that if I had this coat I’d be full of words.

http://www.etsy.com

-i

(s+b+f) = (s+b+m)

•April 13, 2010 • 1 Comment

Sometimes the universe conspires against me and I’m forced to have an opinion on a topic that I would much rather bow out on. So here I am. With an opinion. On single black females (SBF). And single black males.

First, it must be said that I am a SBF (though anyone who would know how to access this blog would already know that). Second, it must be said that my voice and perspective is not a resounding voice of ALL SBFs. I tend to lean more towards the liberal, and less towards the bullshit (having already leaned too close to that in the past). But, at the end of the day, I happily accept my SBF card and the membership at large.

So what the hell. Let’s just start tackling some stereotypes. Shit. I really hate to have an opinion on this because it forces me to generalize a topic that I truly think is very, very personal. But whatevs.

Stereotype #1 – Black women can’t get a man because they’re fat.

I recently read in The Economist that 70% of black women are considered obese. Now, I don’t know how they define “obese” but I would define it as size 18 or above. If you’re shorter than the average chick, I would lower appropriately. And while the statistic is probably true, the stereotype is not.

The statistic. I live in South Florida and therefore I must admit that my daily experiences are probably not representative of the average black female. I ain’t Naomi Campbell, but I also ain’t Monique. 11 months of beach weather every year definitely has an effect on ANY woman’s health goals. But, if I should lean upon my time in Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Kentucky, Indiana, Georgia, and Texas I would have to admit that there is a very PROUD and very CONFIDENT obese population of black women. I’m not sure exactly why it is that black women embrace their rolls while white women are shamed by them; but it is what it is.

Does skinny mean healthy? No.

Does big mean unhealthy? No.

Does skinny mean lovable? No.

Does fat mean un-lovable? Hell no.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Yeh, that’s a cliche. But cliches are popularized because they ring of truth. I’ve never known a big girl who wanted a man and couldn’t find one. But I’ve known a hell of a lot of skinny chicks who went home alone. Truth.

So, seriously. Men. If you told God everything you were looking for in a woman and he sent you a big girl, would you make a date with the devil instead? If yes, your bad. Lucky for you our God is all about forgiveness.

Sterotype #2 – Black women can’t get a man because they have bad attitudes.


*Neck roll* *Finger snap*

Just kidding. But isn’t that what we all think of when we think of a black woman with an attitude??? I’m not big into the blame game, but I have to blame the media for this one. I blame the media for perpetuating a minority of ignorant black women. I blame black women for falling for it. I blame white women for thinking they were cool by interacting with me like I was a black woman on a Tyler Perry movie.

The truth of the matter is, black women have a right to have an attitude. Period. All you men out there shouting nonsense can just sit down. We do. Single moms of modern society are not what created the term “single mom”. The OGs of single motherhood had it rough. They became absentee moms because they had to carry the load of two parents…because of an absentee dad. They worked. They prayed. They disciplined. And they hoped that their child(ren) would have a better life than what they were able to provide.

Many of today’s SBFs were raised by these OGs. And while we all have to blaze our own paths in this life (leaving behind the baggage of our youth), can you really blame a woman for being afraid? Can you really blame her insecurity on something as simple and dismissive as a bad attitude? Well, I can’t. And I won’t.

So. Men. If you’re interested in a SBF with a “bad attitude”, treat her with TLC, respect, and consideration. Don’t dismiss her because you’ve fallen for the stereotype. Love takes work, and if it ain’t one thing then it’s another. We’re worth the time and the effort. Promise.

Sterotype #3 – Black women can’t get a man because they’re too independent.


*sigh* This is just ignorant.

Black women are independent because they haven’t found a man strong enough to meet them halfway. Black women are independent because they have something to prove to themselves, their family, and/or society. Black women are independent because they can’t afford to wait around for a man to take care of their needs. Black women are independent by choice. And they will become co-dependent when they meet the right man. Guess you just weren’t the right man!

Okay. I’m sorry. That was a bit “attitudinal”. But I hate to hear this stereotype come out of a black man’s mouth! I have swung on both extremes of this pendulum. I have been fully dependent upon a man. I have been like “fuck men” and embraced my independence. I’m somewhere in the middle now (I think).

The truth of the matter is, some men aren’t worth our time. Some men aren’t worth relinquishing our independence. Dating is not for the weak of heart, and we SBFs are in it to win it. To all the men who have been dissed by an independent SBF…GET OVER IT! How many women have you dissed in your life? I may not be Beyonce, but you can’t all be J.

Sterotype #4 – Black women can’t get a man because they have too many expectations.

Really? I mean, REALLY??? Now we can’t have expectations??? Gimme a fuckin’ break.

Okay, so yes. I, too, hate that woman who has a concrete checklist of characteristics of their “perfect” man. I, too, hate that woman who only dates “ballers” or professional sports players. I, too, hate that woman who doesn’t give the average man a try.

But guess what? Most of us SBFs ain’t that chick. And most of you “good guys” dismiss us simply because we have our shit together and you were burned by one of those chicks before. Yeh, we may LOOK like that chick. Yeh, we may SOUND like that chick. But, No. We ain’t that chick.

We have expectations? Really? Well, so do you. And when you approach us like we ARE “that chick”, we’ll play the role to get you to move on. Some things are cyclical, and you’re keeping the wheel in motion…too.

***

At the end of the day, this is just my un-educated perspective. As I’ve stated before in this blog, I actually really suck at relationships. So if you think I’m full of shit, you’re probably right.

And, honestly, half of what men think of us is true.

And, honestly, half of what we think of men is true.

Love finds love. Period. When a SBF meets a SBM that she can love, she will drop all her baggage and succomb to that love. When a SBM meets a SBF that he can love, he will dismiss any and all stereotypes to be her Prince Charming. Love defies all these bullshit rules and stereotypes we try to make.

Love. Ain’t it grand?  -i

Breaking Up with Your (un)Boyfriend

•October 2, 2009 • 1 Comment

Dating and mating is tricky business.

There’s a thin line between “dating” and “relationship”. Some people think they’ve moved from date to mate after they’ve had sex. Others, after a certain time period has elapsed. The romantics wait until they hear those 3 lovely words. The eager stake their claim in bathrooms and closets and think this equates to monogamy.

But what happens when your heart and mind are 2 steps ahead of his? How do you end a bad relationship that never really existed?

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More than likely you’ve already had *multiple* and heated conversations about how unhappy you are in this relationship (that he actually calls a friendship). More than likely you’ve left these conversations either (1) thinking you were crazy (cuz that’s what he told you you were); (2) in the same state you were when you called him; or (3) ready to delete him from your phone, and thus your life.

This actually isn’t a multiple-choice test, it’s your life. So I won’t say you have X number of choices to make. But let’s talk.

If you’re feeling crazy for feeling more emotional about the relationship/friendship than he is, let me just say You’re Not Crazy. You see, men have this annoying ability to initiate an emotional entanglement that should be perceived as a relationship but without the actual words required to sign-off on the deal. It’s kinda like a metro-sexual hanging out at gay clubs, but going home with the girls. They look the part, dress the part, act the part…but can’t cum all the way.

But what this schizophrenic behavior allows them to do is ride the fence. Yes, they will act like your boyfriend. Yes, they will expect you to call, text, or email a couple of times a day. Yes, they will want you in their bed most nights. Yes, they will be jealous when they think someone else is tryin’ to holla at you. Yes, they will want you all to themselves.

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But they won’t say that.

They will definitely ask you, “What’s wrong with you?” if you stray from these expectations and wants.

If you stop blowin’ them up, they’ll probably send some passive-aggressive text saying something along the lines of, “Wadup Ms. Busy? You must be gettin’ it in on the streets. Holla at me when your schedule clears. One.” or simply “R u ok?”. They won’t say they miss you. They won’t say they want to see you. They will be men and be ridiculous.

If you stop spending the night over at his crib (because you do have one of your own) he will probably start mentioning all the things you’ve slipped into his medicine cabinet or closet 3 months ago. Like he just noticed them there.

If he hears about you out on the town with *whisper* another man, he will probably tell you to watch yourself and your reputation. He will imply that you’re a ho and that everyone thinks you’re a ho…all because you went out with your best (and happily married) guy friend for a drink to talk about his ass.

And all of those things will make you *think* that he really likes you. I mean, why else would he be jealous of you hangin’ out with another dude? Why else would he notice that you haven’t called him? He really does think of you as his girlfriend! He really does love you!

PSYCH! Don’t believe the hype.

Sure, he may like you. He may actually love your ass. But if he can’t commit his mouth to say those words of commitment, then his actions don’t mean shit. This may be the one time when the phrase, “Don’t talk about it. Be about it.” just doesn’t work. If he can’t talk about it, he won’t be about it. And that’s just the bottom-line. Sorry.

So what do you do? Do you call him and instigate a 4 hour convo on your feelings? Do you start to believe that you’re that crazy chick he paints? Do you delete him from your phone?

Do whatever you want. Is that bad advice?

Well, I’m not done.

Do whatever you need to do to feel better in that moment. If you need to drive over to his house and get a quickie so you won’t lose your mind, Do it! If you need to pick up the phone and hash it out with him for a couple of hours so you can say your peace, Do it! If you need to call your girlfriends and head to happy hour(s), Do it! Do YOU! In that moment, you have to. Or else you’ll go crazy.

But. But. But. But. But. At the end of the day, darlin’…

You Cannot Change A Man *period*

If you’re all ready to say those words, and all he’s ready to do is rip the condom wrapper…bounce.

If you’re all ready to hold hands in public, and he’s still telling his friends you’re his co-worker…bounce.

Walking away is easy. Staying away sucks. Finding a new way makes you forget the pain.

Go forth, my lovelies, and Find A New Man (that will claim you)! *sprinkling pixie dust over your head*

p.s. Did I mention I actually suck at relationships? Please don’t take anything I say to heart.

-i

Has Your Milk Expired?

•September 30, 2009 • 2 Comments

Break-ups. Divorce. What’s the deal with love’s inevitable expiration date?

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The entertainment industry called this past summer the “summer of death” because so many legends have died. My best friend and I bit off their idiom and called this the “summer of dead relationships” because so many of our friends (okay, not really friends but people we know just well enough to talk about them) have broken-up, separated or divorced.

So then we started doing what girls do BEST when they get together – male bashing. I’m sure men wish this was a dying art, but sorry. It’s not. And in the midst of our “hate fest” we realized that men treat relationships like they treat their milk…stick with me, it makes sense eventually.

Every morning I have a bowl of cereal…with milk. I buy a gallon of skim milk every few days because I go through it faster than mexican water in an american (I meant that in the most PC way possible). Some days, usually over the weekend, I go out for brunch or make a big breakfast and I miss a day of cereal. And monday morning, without any warning, I spoon up some cereal and immediately spit it out.

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The milk expired. In 24 hours, the milk went from friend to foe and I toss it – a little pissed off that I took that last sip of sourness. And by the next morning, a new gallon of skim milk is back in my fridge and the memory of yesterday is forgotten.

Men, seemingly without warning, can wake-up one morning and realize that they don’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore. That your kiss tastes like soured milk. And they toss you out. And they don’t look back. Ever.

When a dude is done, he’s done. Period. And while you’re pining away wondering What happened? What went wrong? What’d I do? Girlfriend, they’ve already made a run to the store and picked up a new gallon of fresh milk.

Since I’m not one for generalizations I won’t say that all men treat women like they treat their milk. And I won’t even say that women never treat men like they treat expired milk. But I still like the analogy.

And so then my best friend and I started really pontificating ($5 please…I got a perfect score on the SAT) on why men end a seemingly good relationship with absolutely no explanation. And it all comes back to milk. So here’s some mind-mapping (a technique gleamed during my corporate days) to help put men and milk into proper perspective.

Step One – Buy the milk – Buy the woman

This is a no-brainer. Men need milk, they go to the store and buy it. Men need pu$$y, they buy a woman dinner and drinks…actually it’s probably drinks then dinner then more drinks but whatevs. You get the point.

And just like milk’s diversity – skim, 1%, 2%, soy, chocolate – we women come in all shapes, sizes and skin tones. At our age (a constant 25…wink) we all know what type of milk we drink…just as men probably know what type of woman they like.

Step Two – Drink the milk – Eat the woman

That’s so crass when taken literally, but basically what I’m trying to say is that men, once the milk is in their home, enjoy it by drinking it. And men, once the relationship has been established, enjoy the woman. You’re theirs. They own you. They know it. And so do you if you’re being honest and are in a real relationship. And it’s all good (well, while the gettin’s good at least)…

Step Three – Drink. Refill – Happy? Refill

Just like my example, we all get into a routine – wake-up, eat cereal, start the day. If you’re happy with this routine, you keep doing it.

Just like a relationship – wake-up in love, enjoy some “morning pleasantries”, start the day. If you’re happy with this routine, you keep doing it.

But, what happens when you crave something a little…hmmm…different? What happens when you’re taking that box of cereal off the pantry shelf and that milk bottle out of the fridge and realize you want…hmmm…blueberry pancakes? If you’re in New York, you go to Clinton Street Bakery (cuz they have THE BEST blueberry pancakes – sorry I’m a bit obsessed with these pancakes). But seriously, when your taste buds demand a new flavor, you satisfy them. You don’t throw out your cereal and milk immediately. You put them back on the shelves and go in search of what you really want, fully expecting to have them tomorrow when you’re feeling “normal” again.

So what happens when a man wakes up next to you and jumps out the bed without the “morning delight”?

This is just a guess (and certainly not accounting for those “failure to launch” moments) but I’m thinking he’s going in search of what he really wants. Maybe it’s because he has to grind out at work. Maybe? Or maybe it’s because he is in pursuit of happiness. Either way, he will leave you in the bed fully expecting you to be there tomorrow when he is feeling “normal” again.

But what happens when tomorrow is another blueberry pancake day?

Step Four – Drip. Drip – Dip. Dip

Have you ever watched a baby drink a bottle of milk?

Once they’ve gotten their fill, they still hold that bottle up to their mouths but they don’t actually drink the milk. It just kinda drips down their little chins.

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They stop. Take a breath. Decide they still want the milk. Start sucking it again (full force), but at some point they just realize they can’t drink one more drop. So they drop the bottle and move on.

Well, men are babies. (Sorry. Poor feminist humor.)

When you got a man, you betta want to spend a big chunk of your life sipping from the well of love you share with him. Sure, you’ll take a breath and go out with your girls occasionally, but everyone expects you to be with your man. Why not? You’re in love, right?

So what does it mean when your man dips more than he sips? If your man is spending more time at his job than with you, he betta have just gotten a promotion. If your man is spending more time with his friends than with you, it betta be the Finals of some stupid sports league. If your man just dips without any explanation…the explanation IS he’s sippin’ somebody else’s milk! And you BETTA bounce before your sweet milk expires!

Step Five – The Last Breakfast

Just like my example, the time will come when, after too much neglect (and blueberry pancakes), your milk will expire and will need to be tossed (the actual dairy milk).

And it is just like a man to neglect you for far too long, leaving you on the shelf with promises of coming back, and when he finally comes back for another sip, tells you that your milk, girl, has expired!

But I’m here to tell you that you are still so fresh and so clean! And please, the next time you start to feel the dust settling on you from too much neglect, pack up your LV and shake it off.

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Just ask your mama, she knows.

-i

p.s. And from a happily married girlfriend of mine, make sure you keep that milk bottle closed until the right time. Sometimes, sweetie, milk expires because you popped the top too soon…

Bye-Bye Dear Friend

•August 17, 2009 • Leave a Comment

heineken_beer

My girlfriends and I have been doing fasts together for a few years now. And they work. So here we go again. The whole idea of our fasts is to give up something we love with the prayerful knowledge that we will be blessed equally in return. Parts of the prayer group have given up sex, eating, tv, fast food, cussing…pretty much anything they really enjoy. And since I need a whole lot of divine blessings these days, I’m fasting from beer, wine, cocktails – basically all alcohol.

If you knew me you’d know that if there is true reciprocity from our lovely Goddess for my fast, I will win the lotto, get married, and have my dream job by the end of the week.

-i

You Can Always Change Your Mind

•August 17, 2009 • Leave a Comment

This is probably the best advice I’ve ever received. Interestingly enough, it was in response to a very insignificant Facebook status that I posted. But somehow it kept resonating in my mind – kinda like an endless pinball game bouncing around in my brain. Ping! Ping! Ping! (You should probably imagine flashing lights & tasteless music to get the full effect)

Maybe I’m the only one in the world who makes bad decisions on a continuous basis, but I’m betting (hoping) that is not the case. How many times have you made a bad decision…realized it was a bad decision…and yet somehow felt the need to continue? Like, you owed it to the bad decision to do the deed.

Like…for example…buying that really expensive item that you knew you couldn’t afford…

Like…for example…painting your TV red…

Like…for example…eating an entire pint of ice cream…

Like…for example…falling in love…

Okay, that was probably the worst transition known to man (and OF COURSE I’ve NEVER painted my TV red…no, seriously, never…) but I really just wanted to get to the point.

So I was having a moment and then I read these words on FB, “You Can Always Change Mind” and had a revelation. I realized that more often than not experiences end because somebody simply changed their mind. Okay, follow me here…

If your ex sleeps with your best friend, they decided that you no longer fulfill that sexual need. They decided that they wanted something different (not necessarily better…trying to remain neutral here). They simply changed their mind.

If your best friend stops calling you 10 times a day to chat, or stops txting you those random (but smile jerking) messages 30 times a day; they decided you weren’t the voice they wanted to hear anymore. They changed their mind. (And they’re sleeping with your boyfriend. JUST KIDDING!)

If your co-workers stop inviting you to happy hour, if your neighbor stops waving in the mornings, if your favorite diner closes…they changed their minds.

And while we live in an information-rich society where the who’s, what’s, why’s, and how’s are a few keystrokes away…you’re not a mind reader. And neither am I. So who really knows why someone changed mind?

But at the end of the day you do have the power to simply change your mind.

And so do they… that was my revelation.    -i

{Our Song}

•August 15, 2009 • Leave a Comment

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…is stuck in my head all day long…

…comes on the radio and I think of you…


…makes me dance…


…haunts me…

…reminds me of our first kiss…


…makes my heart skip a beat…

…is on repeat on my CD player…


…brings a smile to my face…

…plays at our wedding and I love you…


-i & all the random people I asked