Knee High Boots!

Sale ends Monday, November 2, 2009!

Is this a New Trend?

I feel like I’ve been making as many public service announcements on this blog as CCB was venting on her blog, and even though I don’t want to have to make another one – here it goes:

Announcement: Facebook is not the new way to ask for someone’s number.

Now, maybe I’m old fashioned. I’ll take that charge, but when we’ve stood and held a 30 minute conversation in the club (plus did a little step to Before I Let Go by Frankie Beverly and Maze) and your next question to me is “Are you on facebook?” I am a bit perplexed. Is this the substitute to asking me for my number, or are you already saying – “I’m not interested in you enough to try and carry on a conversation with you over the phone, but over the internet – I GOT YOU BOO!”?

Well, right or not, I took it as the latter when it happened to me over Homecoming Weekend at Howard University (the Mecca, the Capstone, the Pinnacle of Black Education – sorry, got a little excited there for a second lol), which thus provided the following interaction:

Texas Toast* – Are you on facebook?
Me – Yeah? (Perplexed look…)
TT – You friends with my boy on facebook?
Me – Yeaaaaah (waiting to see where he’s going with this.)
TT – Oh okay, great, so if I friend you, you’re not gonna play me and reject me, right?
Me – (chuckles) You’d rather friend me than ask me for my number?
TT – No no I can get your number too.
Me – Nah you’re good. You want to friend me, so you go ahead and do that… Go friend me lol

So listen, you’re probably thinking I was kinda harsh, right? But the thing is I’m at the point where I can’t deal with bull these days. My tolerance for it is just sooooooo low, so while he was cute and he was from the South (albeit Texas, ugh – no offense to my friends who are from there lol) and he was cute, did I mention he was cute… I just wasn’t in the mood to be getting messaged over facebook for awhile, just for it to end nowhere.

And I figure it would end nowhere because no guy who’s really interested in you will ask you for anything less than your number! Right?… Or is this the new thing?

What do you guys think? Was I too harsh – and does it matter anyway since he lives 8 gazillion miles away in Houston? And more importantly, is friending instead of phoning the new trend?

* In case you were wondering, his nickname is Texas Toast because he’s from Texas and he had that Kapper swagger, so he thought he was the toast of the town lol

Unexpected Part 2

This is the second part of the Unexpected short story I posted last week – if you haven’t read part 1 yet, do so before reading any further. *Remember, this story is written in the point of view of a guy.*

Then come right back…

Unexpected Part 2

I wanted to call her as soon as I got home. But we all know that’s not going down, so I waited a couple hours, dialed up her number, put on my best deep sexy voice and asked her mom if I could speak to Selena please. She sounded so good on the phone. I know that doesn’t make sense because how does someone sound pretty, but she did. And we talked for hours. At one point, I thought she was falling asleep and asked her if she wanted me to let her go, and she said, “No, Monty, I don’t want you to ever let me go.” In that soft, sweet, raspy, sexy, sleepy voice, she’d sealed the deal right there. Oh man, that was it… I was done.

Since then, she’s been my girl. My cute brown skin honey and can’t nobody touch her, yo. She wants to be a pediatrician, so she’s started working as a candy striper at General Meadow Hospital. And on the days that she’s not working or not attending meetings for her position as class president, she’s studying with me or talking on the phone with me or going out with me. As you can tell, I am the highlight of her week.

Or at least that’s what I tell myself, but really, she’s the highlight of mine. And it’s been that way since that first conversation on the phone. It only increased after our first date when we went out for ice cream. I know most guys do the whole dinner and a movie thing, but I’ve never been down with that because dinner costs too much for a first date and you cant talk in the movie, so we went out for ice cream. She ordered a Banana split with caramel and teddy grahams mashed inside and I got a vanilla scoop with chocolate swirl, caramel and oreo cookies mashed inside. We were talking, joking, telling each other stories, like the time when she fell off the dresser she and her cousin decided to climb or the time I broke my arm trying to catch this cat up a tree. And then she looked at me, with this real devilish smile. Shoot, I was so into her smile, I lost track of the fact that smile probably meant she was up to something and all of a sudden… BOOM! She hit me in the face with a spoon full of her banana split.

All I heard was her laughing… LOUD. But this time, when the girl I wanted laughed, there was no embarrassment or anger. This time it was familiarity. Selena was laughing because it was funny and she knew me well enough to know I’d think it was funny too. So I laughed… and then threw a whole glob of my chocolate swirl on her face. You can imagine that didn’t go anywhere good with the ice cream place as we both continued to try and one up each other, still laughing though. We were promptly kicked out, but it was the best time.

Then of course, there was the first time I came over to her place to study with her. I was so nervous; not only did this mean I was going to be in her house with her, probably in a room all by ourselves, but it also meant I was probably going to meet both or at least one of her parents. I walked to the door, rang the doorbell, and waited. When she opened the door, I was floored. She looked so simple, yet so beautiful. Dressed in red lounge shorts, a white tank top, fuzzy slippers, her glasses, and her hair pulled up in a ponytail… she was just WOW. I stood there for a second, trying not to drool in her doorway, trying to remain cool since, hey, she was my girlfriend by then anyway, and trying to remember I still had to meet her parents.

As soon as I’d gathered myself together, she hit me with the news: her parents had gone to the grocery store and a meeting and weren’t going to be back home until a little later. We’d be studying in the living room, she told me. I really can’t remember what else she said for the next 5 minutes though, because I was trying to get myself to understand how I ended up in the house of my sexy girlfriend with no parents. I got it together again, however, when Selena promptly reminded me how we both needed the extra credit in math class so we needed to get a move on into the actual studying part of the day. What a way to ruin a guy’s mood, right? Remind me why I’m really there. But it really didn’t ruin my mood at all. We studied. We laughed. We looked into each other’s eyes. And I fell in love.

Look for Part 3 next week!

Slip and Slide

I believe that in life you should take everything as a lesson learned. And no I’m not about to get all Alicia Keys on yall right now – but when there are times that I have the inclination (however slight) to regret something in my past – I simply remember how it helped me grow into the person I am now, and how it and the other things I will do wrong will help me continue to grow in the future.

Which leads me to a recent lesson I’ve learned lately – You can’t always let thing slide just because he’s cute. Now maybe some of you have already learned this lesson – or maybe you didnt need to learn it because it was already just in you. But for me, I’ve finally come to this conclusion. No more excuses that sound like, “but he was soooo cute that….” and then end with “but then I found out he was crazy.”

What I’ve come to realize is that usually in between those two statements, there’s typically a sign that dude is crazy that I’ve let slide since I thought he was cute. Por ejemplo, just the other day I was walking into my office building, when I saw a reaaaaaally cute guy. Like – reaaaaaally cute, guys! Now, it was raining and cold, and I’m from the South, so I had my hoodie on, tied up, with my jacket buttoned up to my neck on top of it. Because of this, I already knew the chances of him approaching me were less than positive – but then out of nowhere, he did!

And in the next few seconds, I wished he hadnt. His first line was lame enough – “You should take that hoodie off so we can see your pretty hair,” but foolishly, I was almost willing to let that slide – as I’d done with the bugaboos I can’t get rid of now. I politely laughed, informed him that it was raining and cold and kept walking (albeit a little slower to see if he would say something else.) He did.

“What yo name is girl,” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” was about the only thing I could get out of my mouth. I just knew I’d heard him wrong. So I tried to give him the opportunity to

No, not even if he's this cute

change his phrase. But then he said it again. “What yo name is girl?” Sadly, I just walked away.

I could have told him my name, given him my phone number and waited to be thoroughly disappointed again. But I get the feeling, and I got the feeling at that moment as well, that I’d once again be telling the story of how I met this dude who was cute and turned out to be psycho or just not worth the time.

So my advice, any single lady readers, no matter how cute a guy is – trust your instincts and listen to how he approaches you: chances are you’ll get a feel for whether he’s worth it or not in the first 10 seconds.

Lesson learned.

Are Condoms the new Toothrush?

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For years now, women have been plagued with the stereotype of wanting to leave their toothbrush at the man’s house with whom they are rss feeding, almost in an effort to “inadvertently” mark their territory. You know the deal – the woman comes over, leaves, and when the man goes to his bathroom, he finds a new pink member to the family. Now, he can do a couple things at this point – call her on her ish and tell her to come get it, throw it away, or leave it there. If he leaves it there, any other woman that comes over will inevitably wonder who the extra pink toothbrush is for and the toothbrush culprit may take that as a sign to leave more stuff at his place, but if he calls her on it, she may get mad and withhold sex for awhile.

It’s the perfect example of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. I mean, really – what is the guy to do???

Anyway, like I said, for years this has just been believed as something that women only do, but once again, your girl is calling BS. Not only do men have a similar way of marking their territory, but it’s even more conniving than the toothbrush.

It’s the condom(s).

Have you ever been put in a situation where the guy left his condoms at your place? Let me tell you, it puts you in that same toothbrush conundrum. You see, there are a few inherent assumptions that come with leaving your condoms at someone’s house: 1) you assume that you will be back to use them again, 2) you assume that someone else will not be there in between the time you left them and the time you come back, and 3) you assume that the person whose house you left it at will not use your condoms with someone else.

All of those are risky assumptions, to say the least, but imagine if you are the girl. Now, to set a couple things straight – the only time this is a conundrum is if you and the guy have not yet established that you are in a committed relationship. Same goes for the toothbrush. If you are in a committed and exclusive relationship, neither one is that big of a deal, I suppose. However, if you are not – or you havent established that you are, the act of leaving either your condoms or your toothbrush at the other person’s place is almost like an infringement upon their freedom rights. You have basically said to the person – “I know we havent committed to each other, but I KNOW that you aren’t eff-ing with anyone else, so I’m just going to leave my stuff here.”

Really?! Well anyone who knows me (or knows either the Liberian or Stalker Jason who have been getting their calls unreturned for the past 2 weeks), knows that I dont appreciate being forced into anything. You’re not going to force me to answer the phone for you – and you know what, you’re not going to force me into an uncomfortable position by leaving your stuff at my place – hypothetically speaking, of course.

And I’m not alone. So don’t worry – this isnt a rant from me. It’s an observation – in fact, you could argue that I really havent had this happen to me recently at all. Sure someone did leave his condoms at my place, but I will give him the benefit of the doubt of it being an accident(since he hasnt been back since then lol), but I know women who have purposely been put into the situation – so I’m writing this for them. One of my friends had a guy leave his condoms at her place (even though they made it perfectly clear they weren’t exclusive) and got mad when he came back and the number was smaller. LOL guess what buddy – possession is 3/4 of the law or something like that. Another friend had a guy leave his condoms and when she asked him if it was an accident, he replied – “does it matter – I mean, what are you eff-ing the whole city or something?” Really sir?! Are we throwing stones while in glass houses???

And thats the thing about the condoms that makes them worse than the toothbrush. The toothbrush could maybe be your little sister’s toothbrush or your mom’s or whatever – but the condoms – a man knows when he’s using another man’s condoms. It’s far more territorial of a mark than the toothbrush – I mean, it’s basically the equivalent of pissing on trees. No?

What do you think, dear readers? Is my theory accurate or are me and my friends extra sensitive about this for no reason? And what’s something else that you think could be the equivalent to leaving your toothbrush at someone’s place?

Bringing it back – story book time

I haven’t done a short story on here in awhile – so I’m going to post one I did recently in a couple different installments. It’s not a shoe story like the others, but I hope you guys like it just the same As a twist, this one is also my first short story written from the perspective of a guy…

Unexpected

Lisa was the finest chick in my school. Man, for real, all the guys wanted her and all the girls wanted to be like her. I used to watch her flirt with that cute smile of hers, lick her lips, bend her finger towards herself and have guys flock to her. I’m telling you, she had everything. She was beautiful with long legs, a perfect black model chick. And her friend that she hung out with, just, well… wasn’t. I mean, don’t get me wrong, she was cute… but in the presence of Lisa, damn, Tyra Banks would be put to shame, much less Selena.

But Selena’s who I fell in love with. Yep, that’s right… she’s my ol’ lady now. Sometimes she teases me because I’m younger than her, but I tell her, “baby, I’m all the 15 yr old you’ll ever need.” I’m not sure exactly what that means, and really, I don’t think she knows either, but… she smiles every time. Like, that big, showing your tonsils kind of laugh… and I look at her and wonder how I could have missed her all that time.

She was always with Lisa. They had been friends for forever and a lot of people used to think that the only reason Lisa stayed friends with Selena was because she made her look that much more beautiful. At least, I know that’s what I thought.

I can remember the day I finally got up the nerve to put the moves on Lisa just like it was yesterday. True, it was only last year, but that’s a long time in high school, you know? So anyway, I psyched myself up, had listened to some D’Angelo and some Trey Songz the night before to get into my playa mode. That next morning, I walked right up to honey, stood up straight showing off my 5-7 frame to its fullest, and started to spit the tightest game anybody’s ever heard!

I say started, because before I could get more than “Hey Lisa” out of my mouth, she looked down on me like I was 5’2 and she was 6 feet tall, cocked her sunglasses on the edge of her nose, and laughed…. LOUD. She laughed so much; I forgot what I was about to say. Man, she laughed so much. I think she forgot what she was laughing about. But I didn’t… it cut… deep. Because as she continued laughing, everyone around her starting joining in and the madder I got about it all, the more they enjoyed it. Everyone, that is but Selena. She looked at me with the most beautiful eyes I had seen with the most sympathetic look I had seen.

And in that moment, my anger turned to embarrassment; not because of Lisa and her goons, but because I had overlooked this 5’5 chocolate brown cutie all this time and here she was, feeling sorry for me. I had to get away. Immediately. So I tried to bow out gracefully, said, “Alright Lisa, check ya lata,” gave Selena the head nod, turned around on my heels and started walking away slowly. You know, a brother had to still try to keep his cool, couldn’t let ‘em see me sweat… so instead, I continued that ridiculous laid-back walk all the way down the hall, down the stairs, and into our school’s courtyard, where I finally stopped, looked around and plopped down on a bench, thankful to get away from them. All of them. Especially her… Selena.

I went through the whole day praying nobody would say anything, and I had almost made it through the day until last period gym. I was the sport that day… it felt like I heard a million replays, saw a million playbacks and heard the laughs all over again. And again, and again, and again. I had figured I would just suck it up for the last 30 minutes of the day when I felt someone come up behind me and whisper in my ear.  “Monty, it’s cool,” she said. “I thought it was actually pretty cute. But you know, that’s just my opinion.” It was like 10 seconds, but I stood there for another 2, 3 minutes trying to process everything. I was numb because after all the smooth stuff I was preparing to say, the world’s worst fumble was getting me the girl of my dreams.

The Plan B

One day Lady Raye and I were talking about men, as we so often do, and she mentioned to me a theory of hers – all men have a plan B.

After some deliberation, I thought, hmmmm well, that may just be true. I’ve never believed that any man is truly single when you meet him (he may not be dating someone, but there’s a body there in some capacity), so this isn’t that far of a stretch of my original belief. Her belief stretched further than that however, and said othat even once they start dating someone, all men know someone in their lives who – if something bad were to happen with plan A – Plan B would be there.

At first I thought, “Wow – pretty cynical”, right? But then I thought about it more… Well, really don’t we all kind of have plan B’s? Okay, well maybe not always, but usually we all know someone who isn’t our first choice in a mate, but we keep them around because they’ll do for now or whenever a pinch comes. Some might even call this person, the stand-in perhaps. lol

From this conversation, two things came to mind: 1. If all men have Plan B’s… isn’t it only fair for all women to have Plan B’s as well? 2. If we then all presumably have this person at least once in our lives – would you be okay with being this person?

Let’s start with Question 1 first: now some would argue (incorrectly I might add, but that’s just my opinion) that women are typically more emotional beings than men. This argument has been used as justification for everything from men cheating to men playing the field and not settling down with one woman. So I can only assume that the people who used it for those arguments would also say that a woman would not be able to handle having a Plan B because she would then become emotionally connected to both Plan A and Plan B, thus alleviating the purpose of Plan B in the first place. Au contraire my fair friends. Women have just as much of a right as men to have a Plan B in their lives – just as every student deserves the right to have a substitute teacher when their regular teacher is absent.  This has nothing to do with emotion – it’s pure common decency and fairness. Equal opportunity for all, I say.

BUT – that brings the question of #2: Who is going to be willing to be Plan B knowingly? Everyone raise their hands if you would volunteer to be anyone’s Plan B!!!

…………….. Chances are, you probably said hell to the nah bobby just now… But if we’re honest, chances are just as likely that we have been someone’s Plan B at some point in time. It’s like the cupcake and the sprinkles. (yes, I’m using the sprinkles analogy again lol) Most people want to be the cupcake… it’s the main ingredient. It’s the thing that you go for. The icing is great but it only serves to enhance the taste of the cupcake – and the sprinkles, well the sprinkles are only there to provide a different flavoring to the taste buds of the person eating the cupcake. You like the sprinkles, they’re great fun when added to the mix… but no one’s going to choose the sprinkles over the cupcake. Therein lies the dilemma of the Plan B… everyone wants the sprinkles, but no one wants to BE the sprinkles… because everyone knows the sprinkles don’t get chosen on their own.

So how do we remedy that, fine readers of CVS? How do we get everyone to participate in the Plan B plan if no one wants to be a Plan B? Hmmmm, this is not as simple as the 2015 CLC plan… And if we’re not able to get to a point where women can just as freely have Plan B’s in their lives, isnt it time for us to start demanding that men don’t as well? Thoughts?

The Benefits of the “Curve”

Personal disclaimer – this post is probably the most ‘ego‘ driven post I’ve ever written, but it has to be said. It just does, sorry.

There’s a little something called the curve that I think every woman should experience at least once in her life. Who am I lying to? Actually, I think every woman should experience the curve at least once a week! LOL

So what is the curve and how can you become a part of the CLC, Curve Lovin’ Club? I am so so glad you asked! You see the curve is a caveat to the ego.  Some of you may already know that egos come in different sizes and shapes – but when it comes with a curve, honey – there’s no limit to the amount of pleasure you can experience.

Don’t believe me? Ask one of your girls, that’s right – pick up the phone and ask her, “have you experienced the curve?” Chances are you’ll get one of two answers: a) what’s the curve or b) ooooooooooooh emmmmmmm geeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!! (or some variation of the sort) I actually tried this experiment before and let me tell you, the women who had experienced it, elongated the conversation by at least another 10-15 minutes either flashing back to the time they had or bragging about how they have it now.

And yet, unfortunately, far too many women had the first response.  Errrrr??? How could something so great be such a secret??? Well – no more ladies. No more! I say, the next time you’re feeling a little friskay with a guy and you’re thinking of going there, do a little feel test before to find out if he qualifies. If he doesn’t, well – I was going to say cut your losses and move on to the next but we know I don’t believe that lol, but hey, at least be on the search for it.

My goal – by 2015, the Saints will be Super Bowl champions, I’ll be a New York Times best selling authoress at least twice and every woman in the world will be a part of the CLC. Do your part to make that happen – spread the word! Cuz maybe, just maybe, it’ll become a survivor of the fittest thing and all men will have to have it.

Ohhhhhh the possibilities!!!

Something in Between…

“What a girl wants; What a girl needs; Whatever makes me happy sets you free; And I’m thanking you for knowing exactly…” ~ Christina Aguilera

I seem to be having this very interesting knack in my dating life, of meeting men on two very different extremes of the dating spectrum. Either they seem to want to marry me after the first conversation or they can’t seem to make the oh so significant jump* from talking to me constantly to wanting to go on a date. It’s quite the conundrum, actually.

And I’m finding it more and more difficult to understand why I can’t find something in between. I mean, is it really that difficult? No, I don’t want to talk to you 20 times a day, but goodness, even Toni Braxton didn’t put up with seven whole days of not hearing from her dude. It’s okay, though – I have not given up, cuz I mean really, regardless of my temper tantrum the other day, there’s no way I’m going to stop giving my number out to cute guys with great smiles.

Just like Salt N Pepa, MEN are indeed my weakness… well, men and shoes… but you get my point.

But the problem is, how do I manage these extreme expectations, guys? Because they are killing me! – lol, okay, I’m being a little dramatical.** But you get what I’m saying, right? Is it so much to ask to get a little something in between – cuz that’s all this girl wants. As I told a guy the other day, I’m just not in a place where I want to marry someone or can see myself spending the rest of my life with someone right now. I’ve been there – done that, bought the t-shirt, got it ripped out of my hands at a concert, got it returned, tried to sew it back together, and finally said F-it and sold that blickey on eBay.

I’m just not there lol.

I’m also not in the cut buddy mood either these days. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having someone in your life to fulfill a special duty and all. But that’s not where I’m at either right now. I’m somewhere in between – wanting to chill and hang out and have fun and just go with the flow… but I keep finding people on those extremes.

So what does all this mean and why is it generating an entire post from me? I’m glad you asked – the point of this all, the entire thing, is that the Little Mermaid is not happy. She, like Christina on Grey’s Anatomy, is not getting any lovin’ – because all these men are hittin’ her with these extremes. And where this is an unhappy mermaid, there is an unhappier D-Magic.

What’s a girl to do? Don’t tell me I have to marry someone to get it in again – I’ll never make it. I’ll die, I’ll just die!…………………………….Maybe I can get some help from the Juvie this weekend, what do you think CCB???? That’s something this girl could see herself wanting LMAO! No? Yes? No? lol

* this jump is in fact not very significant at all – but the men on that side of the extreme seem to think so

** yes, I said dramatical – yes I know it’s incorrect, yes I’m going to keep using it – because well, I like to lol