Debunking a Myth?

So Cosmo claims that you actually can turn a hoe into a housewife… well more accurately, you can turn a cut buddy into a boyfriend. Interesting theory to say the least. In fact, their exact belief is that you have the opportunity to make this switch, but only after the first sexual encounter.

I guess you can call it the Molly Theory (for all the former Starter Wife tv watchers). In the show, Molly has sex with a guy under the guise that she could handle a stricty sexual reationship. Soon after, however, she realizes that she wants more, tells the guy that she wants more… And lo and behold, he likes her enough to agree to changing the already agreed upon terms of their relationship from sex to dating.

The thing that Cosmo and and anyone believing this theory don’t get is that that circumstance worked out for one reason and one reason only: it happened on TV. I mean, I’m not trying to be debbie downer for anyone who had plans on trying the theory out, but c’mon… It’s just not very realistic.

Every guy I’ve ever discussed relationships with have maintained the same ideas: once you have sex with a man, the relationship changes and if you go backwards sexually. That basically means that once you have sex with a man as his cut buddy, you can’t then try and make him your boyfriend. In fact, chances are that if you did try, you’d get laughed out of the country. Seriously.

So what do you think? Is Cosmo right? Do you have a brief chance between the first and second sexual encounter to make a cut buddy a relationship or do you lose any chance as soon as your clothes drop that first time?

So I’ve Noticed…

… that I seem to have a particular type when it comes to guys. Well, actually I’ve known for awhile, but it’s become a little more evident lately.

                                       Basically, if you are a…

Man + charmer + orange aura – jacked up teeth = you’ve got a strong chance.

Now, you can look at that and say, “well, damn does that mean you like everyone?” Au contraire my friend. It’s actually a bit harder to find than you might think. You see, even though I don’t have height, weight, or color specifications… while most people pretty much only have to meet one superficial standard for others; for me, you’ve got to meet all of those.

But there’s a problem with that, also. Clearly my type has gotten me nowhere. In fact, I recently explained to my roommate that I at least now recognize that if I meet a guy who’s a charmer, 9 times out of 10 (yes, real statistic lol), he’s not just charming me. [I say now, because even as little as a few years ago, I was still unaware.]

And yet…. That damn charm and orange aura get me every freakin’ time. It’s what draws me to Wayne even though I don’t think he’s particularly attractive; it’s what makes me think Trey Songz could get it twice on Sunday; and it’s what usually makes me go all googly eyes in the club. But lately….

A more pressing diemma has come about from this type that I have. Whereas at one point, I was meeting too many guys who fit the criteria, now: Nada. Zilch. Nothing. And… I’ve been going out! I flirt. I talk. I shoot the breeze with folks; but at the end of the discussion when it comes time for the guy to get my number, I find some nice way to blow him off because he juuuuust didn’t do it for me.

That’s crazy, right? In this recession… of men! But it’s what I’ve been doing. And part of it is that I have this very simple but sick way of knowing if I want to engage in more than a conversation with you: can I see you putting it down? I know… I know. But as crazy as that may sound, think about it for a second before you dismiss it.

If you’re going to be more than friends with someone, and you’re not a virgin nor do you plan on becoming a born- again virgin, chances are that sex will come into the relationship. And you want someone who brings out the passionate side in you; who you have tons of chemistry with.

And unfortunately (for me, that is) the person that can do that is probably someone who resembles your type. Because really, your type is just a more general way of saying ‘these are the things that I’m attracted to.’ And I guess knowing what gets you going isn’t so bad afterall.

Right?

PS. Michael… Yes, I jacked your title: but it got me writing, isn’t that great????

Helloooooooo Luva!

*Anyone who watches Sex and the City will know exactly how that title should be said and accentuated.

Ironically, even though these shoes are Jessica Simpson shoes, I could actually see them fitting right in with the women of SATC. The Jessica Simpson Hellos can be found at Dillard’s Department store and have a cushiony footbed, leather upper and synthetic outsole. $89.00

What’s Wrong with this Conversation???

Once again, its always something when I go to the grocery store! Lol… Please accept this brief intermission from shoes, relationships, and politics to just laugh…

Me rolling my cart to the cash register oblivious: la la la la la la

Cute (in a pinch his cheeks cute way) cashier aka Juvie (cuz he’s a youngin): Hey [wink]

Me: Hi (start putting all my groceries on the conveyer belt)

Juvie: You gon be mad [wink]

Me: Why is that? Don’t tell me you’re closed (laugh, but not jokingly)

Juvie: Yep [wink]

Me: (thinking: does he have a twitch?) Oh c’mon, you can’t stay open just for me, puleaze!

Juvie: Sigh, okay but only cuz you’re cute…. Well and cuz I’m really not closed, I just wanted you to start talking to me.

Me: (laughs) Oh okay. Well you know, I’m probably old enough to be your mother. (Okay, I’m not quite that old but whatever lol)

Juvie: That’s okay, I’m cool with that [winks again]

Me: Ha! Sooooo how’s your St. Patty’s day going? I don’t see any green on you.

Juvie: I’m black, not Irish. Just like you.

Me: What does that mean? I could be Irish, didn’t your mother teach you not to judge a book by its cover?

Juvie: Oh, true… You DO have freckles.

Me: Excuse me?

Juvie: You have freckles. Regular Black folks don’t have freckles.

Me: Sigh, there’s so much I could say to that.

Please someone, help the children! Lololol

PS. Dont worry… I do have a real post coming, I just HAD to share this with yall.

You’re My McQueen to beeeee….

What’s better than silk sheets? Silk Alexander McQueen green square toe pumps… yeah I said it. Your feet are guaranteed to fall in love with these babies… even while your wallet takes a hit. $695 on sale at shopstyle.com

Are U a Performa?

I get emails from IVillage.

It’s one of those things where I signed up to have something else come to my email daily and then IVillage decided it wanted to show up as well. Right.

So anyway, I get emails from IVillage. And mostly, I usually ignore them, but sometimes the headline article grabs my attention. That happened the other day when I opened my yahoo account and saw something that read, “He can tell you’re faking it if…”

Well, seeing as though I am apparently one of the lucky few who have never faked it (not bragging- just sayin… Either it was good and I didn’t need to fake it or it wasn’t that good, and I wasn’t going to lie to make him think that it was. I wouldn’t put that kind of disappointment on another woman later), I didn’t quite know what to expect in the article. So I clicked it and read what they said…. Which was basically this:

There are certain physical ways to tell if a woman is faking or not. They list a bunch like checking to see if she’s flushed (in more than one area) or if she gets up too quickly postcoital, she’s probably faking it… things like that.

But it made me remember a conversation I once had with a PB of mine. Somehow we got to talking about who could fake an orgasm easier, women or men. Obviously, I said women, since I know those who do, you see it on tv all the time that women do, and I mean heck, I figure most porn stars took the Melanie Griffith scream out loud seminar.

He disagreed however. Partly because he likes to disagree with me, but also because he seemed to really believe that men could do it better. His assertion: while a woman could fake the moans, she can’t fake the physical reaction that takes place. At first I thought he meant the stereotypical toes curling, leg twitching reaction. But he didn’t. He meant the inner contraction reaction that ocurrs when a woman orgasms… Clearly he was a man of a certain observation since IVillage lists this as one of the ways to be able to tell if a woman is faking or not.

We heatedly discussed this merit some more with me asserting that a man can’t hide his reaction either and him saying that there were ways, but that he’d be breaking man code if he told me… And it all left me just wondering. Same thing with the article….

What the hell was wrong with people? Why had we (our respective genders) come up with so many different ways to fake something that’s supposed to be sooo good! Because we don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings… The hell!? Bump their feelings. This is supposed to be the time that you GET YOURS and you help your partner get THEIRS too!

I just don’t think I could keep “interviewing” someone when I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied with their resume. You know what I mean? And I certainly wouldn’t fake like I wanted to hire them when I knew they weren’t fit for the job.

What do you all think? Have you ever performed under pressure? And am I being too harsh, are there situations where its okay or do yall have my back on this one?

The Recession Diaries

Okay, seriously… I know it’s been a couple days. You dont have to tell me or give me the silent side eye… I KNOW. But while I get my life together and finish these posts that I have been working on for this blog, dont forget to check me out HERE!!!

OH and by the way, your girl was recently “published” on The Root for one of my besties, Michael’s, new hit The Recession Diaries. He takes submissions from folks like you and me about how the recession is affecting/has affected you. If you’re interested, submit something to him… and if you just want to read, read mine first (LOL) HERE and then read the rest of them HERE!!!

Love yall! SMOOCHES…..

Special Occasions

In honor of my travels this weekend to attend a very special occasion, I went on a search to find some shoes that fit that bill for you guys. I found the BLANCA shoe from Bakers and thought, “hmmmm that’s cute.” Yes, it’s a gladiator heel, but it has a little twist to it, giving it some glamour with the semi-gold leather detailing. 4 1/2 inch heel. $59.95

The Law of Cuteness Relativity

Remember when I talked briefly about the law of cuteness relativity in the post directly under this????

If you want to read more about that theory…. click HERE!!!

Loch Ness MONSTERS!!!!

I have a problem.

Lately, meaning over the past several months, I’ve had the good or bad fortune (whichever you’d like to think of it as) of seeing several cute guys around me. You would think that would just be good, right? Heck, really- you’d think it be freakin amazizing!

But here’s the problem. I see them once and never see them again afterwards. To add insult to injury, usually I’m the only one to see the person and then I have to tell my friends about this cute guy I saw, but I didn’t get his number, and no I probably won’t ever see him again. Each time I begin the conversation, I feel as if I’m talking about Big Foot, a creature that no one believes in and if you said you saw him, people would automatically not believe you as well. Also, if purchance you did happen to see him (or the Loch Ness monster), most likely you wouldn’t again.

It all started a couple months after starting my new job last year. I’d gone from working in a mostly “other” environment to working with a bunch of folks who looked like me. So naturally, I thought I’d have a better chance of finding cuties there. Nope. None. Not one.

And then one day, I saw him. He was so cute! Okay maybe he wasn’t a 10, probably not even an 8, but definitely a 7, and in a sea full of 5’s and 4’s, 7 looked fan-fucking-tastic! (Look out for that post on HONEY about the law of cuteness relativity lol) So anyway, there was random cute guy, and there was me running around trying to finish this hard ass project I’d just been given. I barely had time to process his cuteness, when he stopped me in the hallway to ask me a question.

He was just looking for someone’s office, but the gleam in his eyes when he asked me…. Whooo! I almost took him to MY desk to… Well, there’s no need to be vulgar lol. Anyway, I gave him the information he needed and continued back running around trying to find the people I needed. I saw him 2 more times that morning and each time it looked like he was about to say something to me (ask me on a date, maybe?) but I would be pulled away by someone, anyone that I was working with (whom clearly did not have my best date interests at heart).

To this day, I’ve never seen this man again. One of my co-workers who also noticed him at the time said she saw him once, getting coffee downstairs in the shop, but even she’s at a loss. Sigh… Like I said he was the first one. There’s more.

Then came my new gynecologist office. Who the heck knew so many cute guys would work there? Well, by so many, I mean 2 lol. But its just not what you’re expecting to see when you go to the doctor. They weren’t doctors themselves, but they had scrubs on… And I, well let’s just say I wasn’t any kinds of prepared to flirt with a man at that moment.

So I emailed or pinged CCB (can’t remember which one) and told her about them and also about my plan to make sure I dressed and looked a lot better the next time I went. Flash forward a couple months and I was back at the doctor (routine stuff guys, no need to worry) and this time I only saw 1 of them. Of course I’d forgotten my pact to dress up, most likely bc I needed to wear my Tim’s due to the snow and other inclement weather.

Either way, I did see one of the 2 from the time before. There he was, filing stuff in his scrubs, when all of a sudden he looked up at me. In a matter of 3 seconds, he’d looked me in my eyes, winked, smiled, and disappeared.

WTF!! That’s probably what you’re thinking right now, since of course I didn’t see him the rest of the time there. If you’re not, I was.

Lastly, I have to tell you about Inauguration weekend. S Curl and I decided to hit up Love the Club (Dream) for their Friday night extravaganza (read, she had the hookup and got us free tickets). Anyway, so we’re there… Living the life, drinking it up, macking the crowd. Yall already KNOW how I get with a lil liquid courage! Lol! We took a break from tearing down the dance floor and were on our way back from the bar when I saw him. Y’all… let me tell you about this man. He was at least 6′4, gorgeous light bright dude with a ceasar cut, like a cut wide-receiver/corner back build… he was beautiful yall…… for real. AND YOU KNOW HE HAD SWT!!!

When I tell you that it was almost like the crowd split for us to see each other, I’m speaking nothing but truths. We made eye contact, we walk towards each other (slow motion movements baby! lol) and I hit him with the one finger come hither move! So he come hithers (of course lol), we exchange names, and I hit him with, “you should give me your number.” He does…

I wake up the next morning and realize I was so drunk I only put 6 digits in my Blackberry for his number. Clearly I never saw him again…

Whats wrong with me, yall??? Do I attract the loch ness monsters into my life???? Or is someone (ie God) enjoying himself a little too much when it comes to my love life? LMAO!