around the beehive

Brand New

Looking back over the words that marked the beginning of my blog in September 2008, I can't help but smile.  It was a moist autumn evening, and I was prancing around the city without a care in the world.  A girlfriend and I causally sat at the Cosi in Capital Hill, drinking lattes, thinking about starting a blog. 

Our first questions was, "what should we write about?"  Our second question was, "what was on our minds all the time?"  The answer arrived a millisecond after the question left our lips.  We must write about our singleness.  It was the only topic that made sense and would be a lot of fun.  Seventy percent of Black women are single and have never been married; it was a plight I felt obligated to write about. 

Then my situation changed and I didn't know how to blog about not being single...then being pregnant...then being a new mom.  Well honestly, I didn't have the energy to blog.  I was an exhausted pregnant woman.  I was out of breath walking to the bathroom, and I went to the bathroom about 45 times a day.  I would look at women who calmed to love being pregnant with contempt.  "Are you serious?" I would say to myself.  Who enjoys vomiting every day and having ankles the size of tree trunks?

But just as it is with life, everyone's experience with pregnancy is different.  In the end, it was all worth it.  I have a beautiful baby boy and he means life and breath to me.  But where does that leave my blog?  I suppose I have to try something brand new.  I still have a lot to say, but now it's about diapers, baby food and teething rings.  I am so BRAND NEW.

Bear with me.  I am still concerned with the life of the single black woman, but now my perspective is completely different.  I am way more involved.  Not only do I have something to say about the young black man of our time, I have to raise one.  (Life pulled a fast one on me.)

So here's to the new version of the DC HONEY BEE...I am reemerging as the BUSY MOMMY BEE.  Uhm.  So, so, so brand new... 

I Think This Applies to You

i found this while surfing on the net.

Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man

I will be at Steve Harvey's book signing this Friday, January 30 at the Borders in Largo, MD.  Email me at bericka@gmail.com if you want to join me.

Click Here for Details

SYNOPSIS:  Steve Harvey, the host of the nationally syndicated Steve Harvey Morning Show, can't count the number of impressive women he's met over the years, whether it's through the "Strawberry Letters" segment of his program or while on tour for his comedy shows. These are women who can run a small business, keep a household with three kids in tiptop shape, and chair a church group all at the same time. Yet when it comes to relationships, they can't figure out what makes men tick. Why? According to Steve it's because they're asking other women for advice when no one but another man can tell them how to find and keep a man.

In Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man, Steve lets women inside the mindset of a man and sheds lights on concepts and questions such as:

– The Ninety Day Rule: Ford requires it of its employees. Should you require it of your man?

– How to spot a mama's boy and what if anything you can do about it.

– When to introduce the kids. And what to read into the first interaction between your date and your kids.

– The five questions every woman should ask a man to determine how serious he is.

– And more...

Sometimes funny, sometimes direct, but always truthful, Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man is a book you must read if you want to understand how men think when it comes to relationships.

Nice Guys Don't Have to Finish Last

Can we just be honest with ourselves for a moment?  The phrase nice guys finish last has to be the most misused and overrated phrase in the history of dating.  Coined by Leo Durocher, a controversial and outspoken Baseball player, manager and Hall of Famer, it was originally meant to describe the dynamics of baseball—not dating.   I assume the concept that nice guys are naturally disadvantaged in dating was probably around long before Durocher, but he inadvertently gave it life.  It wouldn’t take long before men and women alike dropped the sports reference and gave this petite phrase the large persona plaguing today’s dating world.

Here is my philosophy on this age old debate.  We need to stop all the generalizing and be more specific with our labeling!  Just because a guy lacks humor, personality, or confidence doesn’t make him a “nice guy.”  It makes him uncomical, boring and/or insecure.  Furthermore, we shouldn’t mistake the lack of chemistry with a lack of personality.  Just because you don’t want him, doesn’t mean the next girl won’t.  Here are a few words that are synonymous with nice: pleasing, agreeable, amiable, pleasant and kind.  Give me a man who wishes to please me any day over a womanizer you can’t find 5 days out of the week.  

 

Recently, one of my girlfriend’s met a guy who was different from her usual dating interest.  Her usual catch was either someone from her past (she loves recycling men), a new guy with very little motivation (we are lucky if he has a job worth writing home about), or he's a philanderer (he has several women fawning over him and has no intentions of committing to any of them).  To our surprise, this new guy had an above satisfactory, suit and tie job, and he made it clear early in their conversations that he was looking for a long-term relationship. 

 

Perfect catch, huh?  Nope.  He was dry as sticks.  He was a BORING guy—no quotation marks needed!  She would call me, asking for ideas.  How could she make it work?  After all, he was a “nice guy”.  She tried for months—she felt guilty and wrong.  Here was her chance for a real relationship, if only she could do the “nice guy” thing.  I told her to stop trying.  She was holding him up from finding the woman who might his nerdy jokes funny.  But ahhhhh, you live and you learn...

Then there is the other side of the token.  Just because a guy has favorable characteristics such as charm, charisma, confidence and swagger doesn’t make him an automatic “bad boy”; it simply makes him attractive.  And if we really want to be honest with ourselves, Ladies—we need admit that the true root of this “bad boy” phenomenon are those of us who place these men on pedestals.   We turn them into the "bad guys".  Some of us are so needy and drawn to their charm and swagger, we are willing to do whatever it takes and sacrifice whatever the situation warrants to spend time with them.  How else do you explain men out here with 3 different girlfriends and 8 children by 6 previous women?  Clearly they are kicking some sort of serious game and there are a few of us out here who are desperate enough to fall for it.  You and I might not be interested in it, but I bet you they will continue to find women who will worship at their feet. 

Let’s stop sizing men up as first glance.  Don’t buy into the nice guys finish last.  Ask yourself, what kind of guy finishes last in your book.  Is it a confident, chatty guy or a guy with little, but profound conversation?  Is it a man who doesn’t care about his looks or a man who tries to be prettier than you?  Is it the guy who works 3 jobs so he can floss at the bar or the wanna-be thug with no job and no car?  You decide.

 

All I am saying, is let’s leave the nice guy finishes last mentality to the spittin' baseball players, 300-pound football jocks and the tall basketball players.  In sports, men have to be ruthless, rough and rugged to win.  When it comes to your heart, seek men that are gentle, endearing, faithful and loyal.  Chile' please...it's 2009!—You NEED to find yourself a sexy nerd! 

 

;0) ~bee

 

Expect Your Blessings in 2009

A new year is the ultimate fresh start.  It's the new car smell.  It's the extra swagger in your step when you don a new pair of shoes.  It's the deep breath you take after a risky, new hair style unearths an aura buried deep within you. It is also important to note, 2009 is the threshold that many of our friends and family members did not cross.  I believe it is our generational and dutiful obligation to make 2009 our best year yet.  

In the sacred footsteps of 2008, I am not making New Year's Resolutions.  I refuse to give into the pressure of resolving all my issues for 3 weeks every 365 days.  Last year, instead of New Year's resolutions, I claimed certain blessings.  I prayed that I would be blessed in my finances and my relationships.  I didn't ask for anything specific--only that I would be blessed.  I figured the universe knew what I needed.  Immediately after praying for my blessings, I began to expect them.  I thought about my blessings all the time.  I dreamed about them, and I told anyone willing to listen how I was going to attract these changes into my life.  I celebrated them long before I received them.

Unfortunately, my convictions were sometimes challenged with doubt.  And in my bleakest moments, my faith wavered.  One particular evening stands out in my mind as the worst.  As I was driving home after work, I could barely see the road because the tears were coming so fast and so furiously.  I wanted to give up.  As I sat stuck in traffic, I felt stuck in my life.  Nothing had changed. I was still in debt.  I was still single.  It seemed that no matter how much I tried to change my attitude, the landscape of my life remained the same.  I gave into a profound pity party and cried the entire way home; this was one of the worst moments in my life.  The helplessness was deeper than I'd ever felt before. That night while laying in bed I heard in my spirit, "your blessings are coming.  Have faith.  As long as you have life, you have the ability to change your situation."

The next morning, I felt relief from the grief.  As I cleared the eye of the storm, I realized that the storm was the blessing.  It started with one key insight: I was surrounded by my blessings, but I didn't know it because they looked different than what I had expected them to be.  For instance, I didn't win the lottery or find a basket of money sitting on my door step.  But what I did find was peace with my situation and the discernment that earthly possessions cannot possess my soul.  I now understand that there is spiritual gain through earthly loss.

I also found peace with being single.  I embraced it.  I took myself out on dates.  I went to the movies, parks, concerts--wherever I wanted--alone.  I found the courage to approach men I thought were attractive.  I went to places I knew dripped with single men and I mingled.  I didn't force it, I merely opened the door and waited to see what would happen. 

Once I knew there was another way--I didn't have to "survive" being single--I could love it, I started writing a book about it.  Then, I started this blog in hopes of spreading the word about being single and happy.  That's when irony set in--I met someone who took the single out of my being happy.  He and I both knew after our first date that we would be together for a long time.  I knew instantly that he was the partner I desired.  He is smart, charming, adventurous, caring, sexy and faithful.  He is everything I want wrapped up in a package that is perfectly tailored to my preferences.   

I think the moral of the story is pretty clear.  Expect your blessings in 2009, and expect them to look different than you imagine.   

Dear Bee - Part One: He's Getting Married???

Ladies & Gents!  I am starting a new series.  A couple of you have responded to my last few blogs with relationship questions.  I love it!  I love feedback, comments and questions.  Singleandhappy.net is the perfect discussion board where single men and women can break down barriers.  My goal to make the pages of this blog a safe place where we can find happiness and resolution in our collective dating circumstance. 

To provoke community discussion, I will give my readers a chance to respond before I post my response.  If, for example, "Distressed and Manless" asks if she should approach a co-worker she believes is covertly flirting, take a few moments to offer advice.  Click the comments link below and post your thoughts.  After I hear from you, then I'll chime in.  Let's start with Ms. "Stuck in a MAD Woman’s Dream"....

___________________________________________________

Dear Bee,

I read your blog regarding Beyonce’s song "Put a Ring on It".  But my question is, what do you do when he puts a ring on another woman’s finger?  How do I cope when I love a man who loves another woman?  Unrequited love is certainly the worst.  It burns.  Yesterday, I got the news he's engaged.  It broke my heart.  He always told me he didn’t want to get married.  What changed?  I experienced several emotions, I went from shocked to angry to numb.  A tiny voice in the back of my mind says I should be happy he found love.  A slightly larger voice is angry he isn’t with me.  And since I am being brutally honest, I have to admit there is also an evil voice (with much louder vocals) that wants the engagement to fold.  I want him to be as empty-handed as I feel.  But I believe in karma, and I don’t like putting that negative energy into the universe.  Help!  I have tossed and turned enough over this man.  How do I wake up and move on?

Sincerely,
Stuck in a MAD Woman’s Dream

Put a Ring on It - Beyonce Has Done it Again

Ladies, what would 2008 have been like, without Beyonce's "Get Me Bodied" and "Put a Ring on It?"  Did you jump up and scream, "that's my song!" whenever the DJ started mixing Beyonce into the flow?  How many times did you drop your drink or take it to the head, just so you could be on the dance floor witcha girlz when one of these songs came on?  Admit it, more times than you can count if you like being out and about on a Friday or Saturday night.

Beyonce is a performer, and undoubtedly a future icon of our generation.  During my lifetime, I can remember singing and trying to imitate the dance moves of several female entertainers.  There was Tina Turner, Salt-n-Pepa, Janet Jackson, Mary J. Blige and now Beyonce.  What do all these women have in common?  A survival story and passion.  With every new song, their success and sexiness drew a new line in the sand.

This morning as I drove into work.  I thought about Beyonce's latest hit, Put a Ring on It.  First I thought, this girl is working her thang....She's married, and still preaching to single ladies.  Like myself, she draws on her life experiences to spread the word about the single lifestyle.  She has a message that many people take for granted or simply overlook.  The single woman, though walking our streets in droves, is ignored.  (See 70% of African-American Women are Single.)  So I hope Beyonce continues to dance and pump out songs that bring us to the dance floor. 

Then I thought about the men who shoulda put a ring on my finger.  This would include the men who respected me, their mothers, and themselves.  The men with jobs and without criminal backgrounds.  The men who thought enough about their future to avoid 4 children and 4 baby-mommas.  The men who would never lay a hand on me or put my life in danger.

If you keep it real, any man out here can "wife" you.  But can he take care of you?  Most of us should be happy that an ex-boyfriend didn't put a ring on our finger.  During my twisted and misled dating history, there was only one man who met the criteria listed above and didn't put a ring on my finger.  The timing wasn't right.  I had not come into my own; he was ready and I wasn't.  In retrospect, I see that I needed at least another 7 to 8 years of spiritual development and personal maturation.  Had I gotten married in the late 1990s, I may have avoided several "no-good" ex-boyfriends and a lot of heartache, but I would have also missed the life-changing lessons that God intended for my life.

All I'm saying is--just because he's your boyfriend, don't think he needs to be your husband.  And just because you can look back and fantasize on a few of the good times with some joka, doesn't mean he would have profoundly changed your life for the better.  Set some standards, inform the next man and wait to see if he meets them.  If you never listen to anything I say, please heed these three words:  DO NOT SETTLE!  It will make all the difference as to whether you live a life that is happy and prosperous or not....

Top Ten Ways to Remain Single

Ladies, it's time we look at ourselves.  Let's be introspective for a moment.  What are some of the things we do that keep us single?  I'm sure you could go on for hours about your girlfriends, but what about you?  Here is a list of things that definitely hinder your happiness and help you remain single: 

10.  Sitting at home after work and on the weekends.  Being a couch potato is never a good look for the single woman.  Your cat or dog will love you for it, but your love life will suffer.  Your house maybe spotless, but those aren't the cobwebs you should be worried about.  Here's a hint, load your schedule up with events.  Cancel some if you need to, but go out!

9.  Refusing to entertain blind dates or friendly introductions.  What's wrong with meeting one of your sister's co-workers or your cousin's personal trainer from the gym?  If you're a savy single woman, a blind date will only cost you a little bit of time and effort.  Don't get me wrong, we've all heard about blind dates from hell...but have an exit plan!  You are not above a fake phone call from your girlfriend hiding in the bushes. Do whatcha gotta do, girl! 

8.  Dating a married man or otherwise involved man.  See my blog on Man-Sharing.

7.  Looking like an "in-cog-negro" when you run errands.  Guess what?  That hoodie and those sweat pants you had on the other day are not sexy!  Men need groceries too.  They run to the post office, gas station and mall on a regular basis.  Look good for crying out loud!  But please don't be the girl at the gym wearing big hoop earrings and bright red lipstick.  That's just tacky and desperate.

6.  Drinking too much when you go out.  Whether it's a company function, a networking event or a house party, stay away from the hard liquor if you can't handle it.  Getting loud and obnoxious is definitely not a good look.  And throwing up in a corner is a huge turnoff!  Onlookers, especially men, will shake their head and think, "see now, that's why she's single..."  (I love that phrase!) If you wanna drink too much and act a fool, save it for a night in with the girls. 

5.  Acting like a fool at the club.  See my blog on Club Etiquette 101.

4.  Passing up a man just because he doesn't look like Denzel or Morris Chestnut.  I can't even begin to count the number of men my girls pass up just cuz they don't look like a movie star.  Everyone gets touchy when it comes to this topic.  I know you have to be sexually attracted to him.  I am not saying date someone who repulses you.  Just be willing to give the man a chance.  A nice looking man with an ugly attitude is ugly in my book.  Check your book.

3.  Repeating the past.  How many times do you have to date the same type of brotha?  They are so much alike, you have to be careful not to call the new guy the wrong name.  I refer to this situation as dating the same demon in different clothing.  It's the cliche we all know very well: insanity.  Come on ladies, you know what you need to do to get different results!!!

2.  Dating men with illegitimate jobs.  I can't emphasize this enough!  (I'm not pointing fingers--I am guilty of this too...)  Remember Tommy from Martin's television show?  A man who has money, but doesn't go to work is a problem.  I don't care what the man does, as long as he is committed to legitimate work and handling his own, he has potential.  I know women who married street pharmacists.  And guess what?  They are basically living the single life while their husband is gone until November (2015).

1.  Treating singleness like a sickness.  I will continue to say this until it sinks in.  Life is about more than having a man.  Listen, you will be as happy in a new relationship--once the novelty wears off--as you are right now.  It's that simple.  Appreciate life and the opportunity to know yourself without outside distractions.  Think about the grass being greenest under your feet.  I know you have friends who are unhappily married or locked into in bad relationships.  They wish they were single!  Anyway, if you're still not convinced, I'll keep blogging...

If you want to add to this list, comment below or email me at bericka@gmail.com.

~bee. 

What's the Basis? Part 3: The Exxon Experience

PREFACE: This is Part 3 of a series called "What's the Basis?"  In this series, I will examine the things that happen to me and my girlfriends that are examples of the madness we experience in the dating world and beyond.  Ever had a guy show up for a date with a duffel bag and say, "I didn't know where the night was going."  That's a "What's the Basis?" moment.  Clearly the brotha was just trying to be prepared; he didn't realize he was totally off base with that one.  It happens daily!  Please email me at bericka@gmail.com if you've had a "What's the Basis?" moment. 

What's the Basis? Part 3:  The Exxon Experience

Every time I start to think my life is ordinary and uneventful, something happens to remind me that week-to-week, my life is no less than straight, unadulterated comedy!   The Exxon Experience left me completely speechless, seriously.  After the events unfolded, I stood dumbfounded and waited for the camera crew to come from behind the surrounding cars.  Surely, I was being Punked! 

It was a normal weekend; I had a date—okay, maybe a couple of dates—but I was only excited about one of them.  As a single woman, it is required that you date and date often.  This particular weekend was like a grand finale: bomb, bomb, bomb.  An evening at the club with an old guy-friend, a dinner date with a man I'd met earlier in the summer, and a Sunday morning church/brunch date with a pastor--don't ask--you'll bust your gut laughing at this story.  LMAO (Seriously...)

As I anticipated, only one of the dates turned out to be worth my while.   But this new friend had a work-related obligation after dinner, so our night ended early.  I, on the other hand was still wide awake, so I decided to go dancing with a few girlfriends.  Why waste a perfectly good Saturday night by sitting at home staring at my cats?  I walked in the door at exactly 8:52 pm, changed clothes, checked myself in the mirror...mmm! flawless!  And ran back out the door in less than 30 minutes.  I raced down I-295 (hair whipping in the wind), safely exceeding the speed limit and not drawing attention to myself from the cops who normally stake out the highway.  I made it to Martini's Bar and Lounge in Fort Washington, MD by the free cover charge deadline: 10:00 pm. Aaaah, victory.

 

It was a pretty good night.  The DJ was on point, the drinks were strong, and I was carefree.  I walked around, danced a little, but mostly sat at the bar reflecting on my date from earlier in the evening.  I wanted to text him.  Should I?  "No--be strong Bee," I told myself.  I couldn't, I wanted to reiterate that I'd really enjoyed our evening.  I sent the text, but got a message back from my phone saying that it was a land line.  Oh, I had accidentally programed his home phone as his cell phone.  I thought, Good!  I don't want to seem too pressed.  Gotta love the game!...

Nonetheless, it was a seemingly normal night until around 2:45 a.m. when I decided to leave.  I needed some gas and figured it was a better idea to gas up at the corner by the club instead of waiting until I got back home to SE where the streets would be empty.  Safety FIRST ladies! 

 

While digging around in my purse for my check card, I felt my car shift.  I thought WTF!  I looked up and there is a gray Jeep Cherokee kissing my car!  The windows are tinted so I can only see the outline of a person behind the wheel.  I sat there for a second, my head cocked to the side, thinking, "what is really going on?  I can't believe this guy just hit my car!"  I dropped my purse, got out the car to check my bumper after he backed off of it.  Lucky bastard!  There were no scratches or dents on my car.  His license plate must have hit my license plate.  I went back to my car to retrieve my check card without taking my eyes off of him--he's continued to sit in his car.

 

Shaking my head, I walked over to my gas tank and proceeded to fill it up.  The man behind the wheel finally got out of the car.  OMG.  I knew him from the club.  He frequents Martinis and Zanzibar.  I didn't know his name, but I knew his face.

He stutters but says, "I'm sa-a-a-aying dough, c-can I take you tu-u-u-u Sunday Champagne Brunch?"

"Excuse me?" I asked.  I know he didn't just say what I think he just said!

"Ye-eah, I thought you mi-i-ight like to go out wit' me tomor-r-rrow."  He was slurring his words.

"No, I don't think that is going to happen." I was condescending.

"Why, not?  You're a good looking woman, brunch would be on me."  His eyes were closed, he was swaying.

"Well the fact that you just hit my car is a start!"  I was fuming.  Did this man just hit my car, and then ask me out on date?  And how did he know what I looked like?  His eyes were closed.  My tank was almost full.  I needed to get away from this creep.

"Se-e-e-e, now dat's ya problem.  You don't even know a good thing when its staring you in the face!"

Was this joka serious?  As he walked into the gas station hopefully to get some coffee, he retorted,  "And that's why you're SINGLE!"

UHM. UHM. UHM.  My question is, what's the basis for all this madness?  Ladies, when a man like this is your only option, do yourself a favor.  Stay single!  AND if you meet a brotha at Martinis or Zanzibar with an older model gray Jeep Cherokee, holla at your girl.  I would love to help save you from the drama of this "good man."  *smile!* ;0)  ~bee

What's the Basis? Part 2: Club Etiquette 101

Okay, I admit it.  I have club-head tendancies.  I accept certain aspects of this title with the caveat that it simply means I enjoy going to the club.  You will never catch me exhibiting the behavior that one assumes normal of a club-head.  When I go out, I conduct myself like a respectable woman.  I enjoy dancing (and occasionally dropping "it" like its hot :0), but only because dancing is at the top of my list of pleasurable forms of exercise. 

And Lawd knows I am not looking for love in the club! Ladies listen: nine times out of ten, a relationship with that joker you met at the club is doomed.  History has proven itself, time and time again.  Whenever I met a man at one of my local hangout spots, it was a matter of days before I regretted giving him my number.

Beyond that, I'm tired of women disrespecting themselves in the club.  Everytime I see a woman allowing a man to put his hands all over her, I think wow, she either thinks she looks cool right now or she doesn't care how she looks.  Every weekend, without fail I see a woman bent over in front of a man to the tune of "shake ya money maker..." or some other song with degrading lyrics, but a good beat.

The last time it happened, I thought, "it's obvious the two of them just met."  I wanted to pull her aside and say, "He clearly isn't your man, cuz a man who wants to honor you wouldn't put you out there like that.  And clearly he doesn't want anything more than a quick thrill in the club, cuz he's just as guilty of acting like a fool as you."  

All I am saying is, can we have fun without all the lewd behavior?  I suppose this is why people shun the club environment.  When people go out and get a little bit of liquor in them, anything goes.  I wonder what will happen that night I am fed up, and I actually decide to go have a heart-to-heart with that woman shakin' her money maker?  Hummm.  I hope my girls got my back...

Ladies, Protect Yourself!

Ladies, nearly 1 in 20 people in the District of Columbia is living with HIV/AIDS.  (Think about that every time you go to the club.) 

Encourage your girlfriends to be sexually responsible.   Help her understand that some men out here want to play, and they don't want to be safe about it. 

Moreover, just because she's dated him for a few months doesn't make him safe.  If he cheats he opens up the relationship to fatal repercussions. 

Softly preach and then practice what you preach.

Looking out for my sistas...

~bee

What's the Basis? Part 1: Standing Outside of Panera Bread

The other day I was out in the burbs (a city girl in strange territory) standing in front of Panera Bread, wrapping up a conversation on my cell phone.

While standing outside, I noticed the weather.  I love late September and early October, because the midday sun is strong, but there is a cool breeze blowing between the buildings.  I also noticed the perfect little nuclear family with two small girls exiting Paneras with their doggy bags.  Before I could finish imagining their perfect little house located on the corner of their perfect little neighborhood (do you detect a wee bit of jealousy?), I hear the rattle of a Chevrolet Capris and the boom of bass approaching.

As I look up at the guy driving by, my ears are violated by music engulfing the local zip code.  Ugh!  Most rap is tolerable at best--so I am completely sickened by the lyrics ranting something about "burn dat bitch!"  My embarrassment was only surmounted by my rage.  I thought about those two little girls, their parents and the bad wrap our hip-hop culture gets in instances like these.   

Yes, me and my girlfriends joke and call each other bitches, but the context that oozed from the Capris on that beautiful October day was defeating.  It's the same word with two very different meanings.  Hate and endearment; the ultimate duplicity.

All I could do was look Mr. Capris in the eye, suck my teeth and purposefully turn my back. 

70% of African American Women are Single

Are the numbers against us ladies?  Is it class?  Are we too picky?  Are too many of our African-American men married, gay or in jail?  What's really going on?  Sometimes we need a reality check.  No matter how wonderful, sexy, smart or amazing you are--you still might belong to the shocking 70% of us who have naked ring fingers.

The Spiritual Journey of the Black Woman

Big Bootie Girls Rule the World!

Yes, its true!  Big bootie girls rule the world!

And that is why I have no power....

I can't believe I'm even admitting it, but it takes a pair of Beyonce's jeans and a miracle to give me the appearance of a big bootie.  Yes, God has blessed me in many ways...but he did not give me the Lisa Raye or J'lo type of phattie.  My friends often placate me, "girl, your butt is fine," "you lookin' good in those jeans, momma!" "stop tripping, your butt is fine..."  But I'm not blind!  A quick check of my profile in a full-length mirror exposes the truth; I have a normal, average behind--undeserving of long stares and lewd comments when I walk past a construction site.

I'm a few inches shy of an apple bottom, no where near a phattie, and the opposite of a ba-donk-a-donk (pronounced exactly how I spelled it!). 

Most days, I am okay.  I mean there are more important things to worry about than the size of my backside.  And for us bootie-challenged girls, there are butt pads.  Hey, GiGi--THANKS FOR BUYING ME A PAIR!!! 

The only reason I bring this up is because I was minding my own business not even thinking about my ass--when I saw "Kevin".  He's one of my recent "one-date wonders".  He blew up my phone until I agreed to go on a date with him; then our love affair lasted one date and two drinks.

I chalked it up to chance.  Maybe there was a chance he noticed I am an amazing woman, and he wasn't ready for that.  Intimidated, even.  Then recently, I saw him walking down the street, arm and arm with a pair of skin-tight jeans, holding on like his life depended on it.  At that moment I surmised, the one quintessential thing he needed--I could never hope to provide.  A big phat bootie.

Damn.

My eyes were stuck; I understood why men get caught up.  How does one woman get that much rear-end?  It simply isn't fair!  As they walked away--in slow motion, it seemed--he gripped her melon-a-cious ass the way cheese sticks to your gut.  I shrugged my shoulders and acquiesced.  There was nothing I could do, I simply didn't "get it from my momma...."

I know I am making several assumptions.  One, he is in love with the big bootie girl, they will get married and have big bootie children.  Two, just because she has a big bootie, she doesn't have brains.  (No offense intended, I have friends with big butts.)  And three, maybe he knew I was watching and wanted to make me jealous.  There's no way to know the truth.

Such is life, my friends.  Like so many other disappointments, I will eventually put it out of my mind.  That night ended like so many others.  I went home to an empty bed, turned on the news, stroked my kitten (a domestic calico named Breezy--for those of you who needed clarification), and forgot about him.  But before I went to sleep, I got out of bed, did some squats, leg lunges and stomach crunches for extra measure.

Man-sharing: He's Not Your Man

"Man-sharing" is similar to the concept of time-sharing a condo.  You get him this weekend, I get him next weekend.  You bought him a nice outfit for his birthday last week, I get to take it off of him tonight.  Whereas owning part of a timeshare can be exciting for those who cannot afford a luxury condo in say--Miami; man-sharing is a sad reality many woman in the DC area have fallen victim to.

One of my last relationships involved me, him and his girlfriend--or should I say his Sugamomma?  He said he didn't love her--he only needed her to pay his rent and car note.  You might ask why I was even remotely interested in a guy who couldn't supply his own basic needs, but that is another story for another blog. Nonetheless, in this situation, I was completely aware of the fact that he had a girlfriend from the beginning.  But I told myself that he didn't love her, he loved me.  He only needed her money, but he wanted my good company, my charm, my body and my mind.  Cuz Lawd knows, I didn't money to pay da brothas bills.

However, today I am addressing the times when man-sharing is done in blissful ignorance.  Maybe you know something isn't quite right with your relationship, but you don't think its an affair with the woman on the second floor of your building.  Or the receptionist at his job.  Or the "cousin" who flies into town at least once a month.  Hum.  Love can be so blind.  And so blatantly clear!

You might be man-sharing if:

1.  You don't spend holidays with your man.  He either is conveniently missing or he doesn't celebrate holidays--so in protest, he locks himself in the house and won't take phone calls.  Whatever his excuse is, if you'll buy it, I have some magic beans I've been saving for someone special.

2.  You can't reach him before or after a certain hour or on certain days of the week.  Its nine o'clock on a Saturday night--do you know where your man is?  Does he call you at 8:45 p.m. to say he's had a rough day at work and he is going to call it a night?  If so, once in a while is fine.  But not every night, Sweetie!

3.  He is only available the day before or after Valentine's day and/or his birthday.  He claims his boss is an angry bitter woman who wants everyone to work late on Valentine's day--because she doesn't have a man.  Sorry Boo-Boo, he's sleeping with her.  They are getting it on in the copy room, on her desk and in the ladies room when no one is around.  I hope they don't get caught, and he keeps her happy enough to keep his job.   

4.  You've never been to his house.  It drives me crazy how men can get away with this!  There is always an excuse:  he has roommates, his place is a mess, it's too far away, he lives with his momma, etc, etc, etc.  Don't buy it!

5.  You haven't met any family.  He shouldn't rush to introduce you to his mother or children, but its been a year and you only know his drunk uncle Ray-Ray?  That's a problem...

6.  He makes sure there is no electronic evidence of your dates, like paying for them in cash or asking you to put them on your credit card.  (Or maybe he's just broke...it's a toss up!)

7.  He can't spend the night. It cheapens the entire night when a man rushes to put his clothes on as soon as the episode is over.  We ain't gotta cuddle, but where you rushin' off to playa?

8.  Your dates are always on the opposite side of town. Or maybe they are always at night.  Or they are always at your house.  Observe the patterns.

9.  You haven't slept with anyone else, but you have an unexplained itch.  Uhm.  Uhm.  Uhm.  Don't be embarrassed, your GYN sees this all the time.  (And its never fun when one of your girlfriends is having the exact same symptoms...) 

10. Your gut tells you he's creeping.  Three or four of the previously listed signs exist in your relationship, but he's been perfecting his game for a long time, so you can't prove anything.  Listen to your intuition.  Women were purposefully given a strong intuitive voice--use it.

Actually there are hundreds of ways to identify man-sharing (and woman-sharing).  If you are okay with the lies and the cheating, well then hey--do you boo!  But if your heart desires a committed relationship, don't be blinded by love. 

Men with game are good.  They will have you questioning yourself, wondering if you are the one cheating because you can't remember what you did last night.  I believe whole-heartedly, there are men out there who will treat you with respect.  The deed to a time-share and the deed to your own private residence are two very different things.  Having an address of your own is sacred.  You might not always want to be at home, but you know your home is available to you when you need it. 

Ladies, stand up for yourself.  Own the deed to his heart or find yourself another residence.  I haven't acquired one yet, but I believe it can and will happen.  In the meantime, I will continue to avoid, evict and foreclose on all man-shares.  It simply isn't worth my time.

Why do Men Love Long Hair so Much?

In case you haven't noticed, I'm black.  I have been for a really long time, and for as long as I can remember the question has always been what should I do with my hair?  A quick review of photo albums, chronically my life will demonstrate I have worn just about every hair style imaginable.  Although I never did the mohawk or mullet; not a fan of hairstyles that begin with the letter "m".

Recently I have found refuge in a weave named Emily.  Not my invention--the manufacturers named her that.  She is quick and easy and keeps me from having to do the tedious wash and wrap routine infamous among black women.  Not to mention the laborious relaxer that needs to take place every 2 months to "keep the kink out."  Really, I am just sick and tired of all of it. 

So I am going to unleash the beast.  The Afro.  Within the confines of Emily, a natural untampered, kinky beast has been growing--and its time to unearth her.  She is authentic and outspoken.  She is at least 4 inches high and completely unapologetic.  Don't sit behind me at a lecture if you want to see the presenter.

But I wonder what the reaction will be?  Let's keep it real, men love hair.  They like it thick and long and flowing.  And although Emily was a total lie...she attracted many suitors.  And I had a lot of fun swinging her around on the dance floor when I would go out to the club.  But I am feeling a really strong pull from the other side.  And if I attract less men, well honestly that might be a good thing.  Emily hasn't exactly been a lucky charm.  She's helped me get a lot of numbers, but I'm still single...

This weekend I will lay her to rest and see how it feels to be afro-chic.  But If I am not feeling the new look, I reserve the right to resurrect Emily and have everyone go back to pretending she is my real hair.