around the beehive

Herb Garden: First Month

 
 
 

February 9: Planting Day | February 14: First Sprouts | February 24: Small Sprouts in all pots

Top Left: Parsley | Bottom Left: Sage | Middle Top & Bottom: Chives | Right Top & Bottom: Basil

Back to Life

My snowy stay-cation is over, and now it's back to work.  While I had 8 days off, now I will work 7 days straight.  It evens out, but for some reason it doesn't seem fair...  

In honor of going back to work: 

SOUL II SOUL | Back to Life

Back to life, back to reality
Back to the here and now yeah
Show me how, decide what you want from me
Tell me may be
I could be there for you
However do you want me,
However do you need me
How, however do you want me,
However do you need me.

Oprah, Anyone?

One of my goals for 2010 is to see the Oprah show live.  Maybe it will happen, maybe it won't, but I'm gonna try.  Follow me on Twitter, TypePad, FaceBook or email me if you want to know when the lottery window is open for getting tickets. I try to check everyday and I will hollar at you if I find you can enter the lottery. If you want more information on how to get tickets to her show, click here: Learn How to See Oprah Live.

Also, if you haven't spent much time on Oprah's website, you should check it out today!  There are a ton of feel-good articles.  Today I found a quote that reminded me how special it is to have a dream: The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.  After reading the article, I commented the following:

My son is 4 months old and I love our kitchen time together. I place him in his rocker right outside of the kitchen. He watches me cook and I talk to him. I imagine one day he will be an Iron Chef. Even if he doesn't become a super chef, I know he will appreciate my cooking and time spent in the kitchen for him and with him.

Isolation - Day 6: Spiced Chocolate Cupcakes

I've been stuck indoors since last Thursday--nearly one whole week!   And while just about everyone I know is suffering from severe cabin fever, I must admit I've enjoyed my time off from work.  I have spent a lot of quality time with my son and I've done a tremendous amount of cooking and baking.

If I haven't mentioned it, I am a novice cook.  I haven't spent a lot of time in the kitchen, unless I was eating...When I was single, I wasn't concerned about cooking.  My sister loved to joke at the most embarrassing times, that I didn't know how to boil water or toast bread.  Ha. Ha. Ha.  So now that I have caught the cooking bug, I have taken it to the extreme.  Not only do I want to try new things, I want to prepare everything from scratch. 

I keep the television on the food network channel, and I am constantly calling my mother for tips.  Honestly, I don't know why I didn't start cooking sooner, it's a ton of fun.  I think it's amazing how I can take a couple of ingredients sitting in my cabinets and make something amazing.  Yummy in my tummy! 

Luckily, I was off on Thursday, so I was able to go to the store before the evening snow rush.  I spent $85 and I was able to get a significant amount of  food.  During the last week, I have prepared the following meals and deserts: tacos with yellow rice and black beans, meatloaf, collard greens, roasted cheddar garlic mashed potatoes, super delicious leek, potato and broccoli soup, homemade butter rolls, salad, sweet potato pie with a homemade pie crust, maple nut choco cookies and spiced chocolate cupcakes.  Not a bad menu.  Like I said, I am not missing work at all... 

Today's project was the cupcakes.  I am calling them Spiced Chocolate Valentine's Day Cupcakes.  They are moist and have a cake-like texture.  I tweaked a recipe I found online and created a nice balance of cinnamon and chocolate.  They are light and easy to make.  I will work on writing up the recipe and I'll post it in plenty of time for Valentine's Day.

The New Sade Dropped Today!

I am going to make a long story really short:  The baby has an ear infection and mommy broke the syringe we need to give him the antibiotics.  I will need to make a trip out into the snow in order to get a new syringe from the pharmacy, so I might as well stop by target and get the new Sade album.  It dropped today!!! I wonder if Target has it?  They might not have gotten their shipment because of the blizzard.  I will call first.  Pressed?  YES!!!  Maybe I'll just download it from iTunes.  Either way, I am going to get it because if Solider of Love is any indication, I know the rest of the album is H-O-T hot...

Isolation - Day 5: When Does It End?

I don't think we are going anywhere anytime soon.  There is more snow in the forecast, and not just a dusting-- another entire foot of snow!!  I want to complain, because the baby is teething and the house is a mess (all things that could be cured with a little Tylenol and housekeeping), but really I am enjoying my time off.  I am trying new recipes and blogging.  I couldn't be happier.  I found a recipe for pancakes that doesn't include Bisquick that I want to try.  Homemade pancakes, can you imagine? 

Isolation - Day 4: Homemade Sweet Potato Pie

What should you do when you are stuck indoors with a refrigerator full of food? BAKE!!!  So today's project is Sweet Potato Pie.  Right now the sweet potatoes are in the oven baking, preparing to be taunted and lovingly mashed.  Uhmmmmm.  Their aroma is a dense fog that fills the apartment and my nose. 

But I must say, what truly inspires me is the pie crust i just made from scratch.  It's not perfect, but it looks pretty good.  I feel like a black Paula Dean, Yawl!  Anyway, take a look. 

The pie crust, while really pretty, was missing something...sweetness.  The recipe I used didn't call for sugar, so it was the right texture but it tasted bland.  In the future I am going to try the following recipe:

• 1 cup all-purpose flour, divided
• 2 1/2 tablespoons ice water
• 1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
• 3 tablespoons ground pecans, toasted (optional)
• 2 tablespoons powdered sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 5 tablespoons vegetable shortening
• Cooking spray

Lightly spoon flour into a dry measuring cup, and level with a knife.  Combine 1/4 cup flour, ice water and lemon juice, stirring with a whisk until well blended to form a slurry.  Combine 3/4 cup flour, pecans, powdered sugar, and 1/4 teaspoon salt in a large bowl; cut in shortening with a pastry blender or 2 knives until mixture resembles coarse meal.  Add slurry; toss with a fork until flour mixture is moist.

Gently press mixture into a 4-inch circle on 2 sheets of overlapping heavy-duty plastic wrap; cover with 2 additional sheets of overlapping plastic wrap.  Roll dough, still covered, into a 12-inch cicle.  Freeze dough 10 minutes or until plastic wrap can be easily removed.

Remove dough from freezer.  Remove top 2 sheets of plastic wrap; let dough stand 1 minute or until pliable.  Fit dough, plastic wrap side up into a 9-inch pie plate coated with cooking spray, allowing dough to extend over edge.  Remove remaining plastic wrap.  Press dough into bottom and up sides of pie plate.  Fold edges under, and flute.  Place in freezer until ready to fill.

Pie Filling:

First, I baked four sweet potatoes at 375 for an hour and 15 minutes (I wasn't sure how many I would need).  They were really soft and delicious when I took them out of the oven.  I beat them in a medium size bowl with a hand mixer until creamy.  I called my mom and she said the beater helps pull out the stringiness of the potatoes.  Wash off the beaters after you have the consistency you want and measure out 2 cups of sweet potatoes.  Transfer the mixture to a large mixing bowl and follow the directions below.

 

 

Recipe:

• 2 cups cooked, mashed sweet potatoes (I only needed 3 large sweet potatoes)
• 1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
• 1/2 cup butter or margarine, softened
• 2 eggs, separated
• 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup evaporated milk
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1 unbaked 10-inch pastry shell
• Whipped topping (optional)

Combine sweet potatoes, brown sugar, butter, egg yolks, spices and salt in a large mixing bowl; beat until light and fluffy.  Add evaporated milk; beat just until blended.

Beat egg whites (at room temperature) until foamy; gradually add sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time, beating until stiff peaks form.  Fold into potato mixture.  Pour filing into pastry shell. Bake at 400 degrees for 10 minutes; reduce heat to 350 degrees and bake an additional 45 to 50 minutes or until set.  Cool.  Top with dollops of whipped topping, if desired.  Yield: one yummy 10-inch pie.

I really enjoyed this pie.  My mom does things slightly differently.  She doesn't foam the eggs, she adds the entire egg all at once.  She also doesn't use a recipe anymore...she's been baking since before I was born so it's second nature.  Her pie is a little more dense--and just as tasty.  Anyway, if anyone has any suggestions for a really yummy homemade pie crust, please let me know as I am still working on that part.

Lastly, I just got word the Federal Government is closed tomorrow, so I will be home yet again...Hummmmmm, what shall I bake tomorrow?

~snowed in, stir crazy busy baking bee

Isolation - Day 2: The Cookie Experiment

It's 4:30 in the morning, there's over 2 feet of snow outside and I've been in isolation about 60 hours.  Does that explain why I am baking cookies?  Is it cabin fever or greediness?  Who knows. 

Maybe I will venture out to take some pictures of the snow in the p.m....Maybe.

More importantly, these cookies were made with a recipe that I created.  I will try them out on my usual guinea pigs, and if they approve I'll post the recipe.

~the busy mom up at dawn 

It's Time to Migrate South

It's 5:00 p.m. on Friday, February 5 and it's been snowing for about 5 hours.  I am tucked inside a warm blanket with my computer at my left side and a cup of hot chocolate at my right side.  This picturesque moment could easily be created on vacation at a bed and breakfast in the mountains, but that's not the case.  I'm in DC staring out my window suffering form a severe case of cabin fever.  The snow is coming down in long white sheets.  It's a blizzard outside.

This sucks!  I hate being stuck inside.  I should move to Florida.

Brand New

WELCOME TO MY BLOG!  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... 

Is FaceBook the New Starbucks?

This morning when I checked my FaceBook account I had 31 friend requests and 117 other miscellaneous requests and notifications. As I think about the time it will take to get caught up, I absolutely dread it. I have to click through profiles, figure out if I really know those requesting my online friendship—or if they are randomly trying to befriend people so they can inundate inboxes with junk emails. I am sure there will be people I am happy to hear from, but the energy it will take overwhelms me. I have been avoiding FaceBook with the same passion as bill collectors. Am I alone here?

I am not sure why I have resisted advances in social networking. I blog and email, isn’t that enough? Creating profiles and exchanging information online wasn’t even on the radar as a teenager in the nineties. The most my high school classmates hoped for was a couple of pictures in the year book and being crowned class clown or most likely to earn a million dollars before thirty. It baffles me how at the young age of 31, I’m a dinosaur because I don’t use my smart phone to check-in with FaceBook every hour.

Newsflash...While I encourage online dating sites, meeting men on social networking sites is virtually impossible. The only thing these sites are useful for is investigating someone you’ve met via other means or tracking them down later. I never found much use for MySpace until I needed it to track down an ex who owed me money. Bastard. (Ooops, did I say that out loud?) Guys with 400 female friends—all of whom look like they used their XM centerfold to create their profile—are not the type of guys you want to settle down with.

When I first got on FaceBook late last year, I felt I had almost completely missed the boat. It was like a co-worker having said, “Let’s get Starbucks” and I leaned in and asked, “What’s that?” How deep was the hole I had been living in? Discovering this new form of rich mocha latte that was free, at the tip of my fingers and close as my computer screen—it only took a few days before I was hooked. An absolute addict. I was on FaceBook before work, during lunch and at the end of the day. Each time I looked at a friend’s profile or found a long lost BFF, it was like taking another deep gulp of caffeine crack.

Then one day, I got over it. It was like realizing that Dunkin Donuts had pretty good coffee too. I no longer craved “social-networking” Starbucks or sending and receiving gifts on FaceBook. I didn’t have time to update my status or see what a friend in California was doing with her extra 3 hours late into the evening. I went from one extreme to the other. Even as email notifications in my inbox taunted me, I managed to go months without logging in.

The crazy thing is, my reluctance yields nothing—I am still plugged into the machine. I cannot escape. It dictates my life whether I pay attention or not. I have missed critical updates from friends and family, because I haven’t logged on. Friends have said, “You didn’t know? I posted it on FaceBook.” This is true FaceBook frenzy. Give in or tempt fate. Advance or regress. Use FaceBook or risk extinction with the rest of the dinosaurs.

Not So Single. And Happy???

Blogging about the single life is never easy, because it is the ultimate catch-22.  While one never wishes to be single forever, one must learn how to manage happiness while being single.  As a thirty-something woman who had never been in a real relationship, I prided myself on having perfected it.  I lived the single life and I preached it.  I found personal satisfaction in helping the single and unhappy woman find joy.   I started writing a book about it, I started blogging about it.  I was the supreme poster child. 

 

I definitely appreciate the woman I became, but in retrospect I discovered one critical flaw that would cause problems for me later on.  I was single first and Bericka second.  Okay, that might not make since at first glance, but here’s what happened…

 

THE LATE BLOOMER

Everyone comes into “their own” at different times in their life.  For some it happens at sunrise, for others at sunset and for me it was at dawn.  As a child, I was never quite comfortable inside my skin.  Don’t get me wrong, I was cute—but people were always saying, “You would be so pretty if you lost a few pounds” or “You have such a beautiful face…”  I know a few of you out there have either made these statements or been a victim of them. 

 

I could spend hours writing about how harshly I was treated as an overweight child, and how I loathed the weight as an obese adult, but that’s not the point I am trying to make.  It wasn’t until 2006 when I decided to make some permanent changes in my lifestyle—that I was able to turn my situation around.  I spent most of my 20’s unhealthy and unhappy.  But after losing a significant amount of weight I was able to stare boldly into my 30’s—and dare anyone to try to blow out my fire.

 

LESS LARGE, BUT NOW IN CHARGE

With my new found perspective and tight fitting jeans—I was ready for anything.  I hit the dating scene with a vengeance!  I had to make up for lost time.  I was able to go out 3 or 4 times a week and enjoy the night life that many people took for granted.  But my prospective was different.  Very different.  Because I had been single a lot longer than I had been in charge of my social life, the two identities became deeply intertwined.  Ahhh—the fatal flaw.

 

After I found myself in a relationship, I became the antithesis of everything that I had preached just a few short months ago.  On top of this dramatic change—I was so self-unaware, I didn’t even see my fire blowing out.  Once I found myself no longer single, I systematically ceased those activities I considered “of the single life.”  Going out, writing, blogging, enjoying my alone time.  My color, my vibrance, my glow and my fire slowly disintegrated.      

 

WILL WORK FOR HAPPINESS

Now that I have identified the problem, I know that the only person to blame is myself.  I was confused and mislead by what I thought a relationship should be.  I find myself in the need of redefinition.  How does Bericka exist within a healthy relationship and be happy?  Have fire and glow?  To be honest, I am not sure.  This is unfamiliar territory for me.  But I am willing to work on it.  I have to—or the decay that has been lurking inside of me will eat away at a perfectly wonderful relationship.  And that would be a shame.

 

Lastly, I must thank each and every one of my friends and readers who has been patient with me while slowly slipped out of sight.  Thank you for loving me even while I was not being true to myself.  XXXOOO...

I Think This Applies to You

i found this while surfing on the net.

The Winter Ten: Venting About Winter Weight Gain

There is a reason why bears hibernate in the winter; they are smarter than the average human.  Wild animals and other scrumptious menu items for your friendly neighborhood bear are scarce in the winter.  Instead of fighting the natural cycle of life, bears have found a smarter way to deal with the weather.  They hibernate.  They find a cozy cave and make it their home from early October until April, and sometimes even May.

If I were a bear my name would be Matilda, and I would climb into my cave right after my birthday in September where I would stay until May flowers are in full bloom.  But my name isn’t Matilda, and the way I deal with the winter is to pack on the layers.  I use tee-shirts, long johns, sweaters and a less flattering layer of fat.  The Winter Ten is what I like to call it.

This morning I weighed myself and realized the scale hadn’t dropped below 180 since last October.  I hate to make excuses, but the winter weather must be the reason for my superfluous fat.  What else could it be?  Unlike our gigantic furry friends who can’t find food in the cold, winter offers mankind glutinous Thanksgiving and Christmas feasts.  Gyms are often overcrowded and less desirable during winter months.  Furthermore, I’d rather curl up with comfort foods on extremely cold days than take part in my weekly ritual of summer happy hours and weekend clubbing.  I eat more and do less.  It’s a basic equation that equals increased fat cells around my midsection, i.e. butt, hips and thighs.

Then just like clockwork, spring arrives.  Frosty mornings aren’t so frosty, and going out doesn’t require as much effort—I can throw on a summer dress, some sandals and call it a day.  The thing that I like about warmer weather is that I lose weight without even thinking about it.  (Not much, just the ten pounds I picked up in the winter).  The sun is shining, the air is warmer and the days are longer.  I want to be out and about more just because the weather inspires me.  I walk more, dance more, and move more.  I love the spring and the summer!

Ahhhhh, if only I could avoid the Winter Ten and sail right into summer without picking up the extra weight.   I’m 5’10” and my target healthy weight is 165.  I was only ten pounds away from goal last summer.  If my starting point in 2009 was 175 instead of 185, I might finally reach my goal this summer.    Anyway, I just needed to vent.  I feel like a fat cat who wants to avoid the rest of the winter by being a bear named Matilda for the next 3 more months.

Longing for the spring…

~bee

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

 

On The Mall with President Barack Obama

Witnessing history has to be one of the most fulfilling experiences in life.  Last year was a turning point in my life, our country and the world.  As an individual, I voted and helped elect Barack Obama into the United States presidency.  Then on January 20, 2009 I watched him take office. 

Absolutely incredible!

I stood outside in the bitter cold for 8 hours.  My fingers frozen, my toes numb.  I can't even begin to explain how my body yearned to give into the cold weather.  I looked for refuge in the Smithsonian--access was not granted.  I waited in line over 40 minutes to sit on a warming bus for twenty minutes--again, access was not granted.  I have an extreme aversion to cold weather, and while I had on at least 5 layers of clothing and two pairs of gloves--2 hours into my expedition, they felt like a thin layer of terry cloth.  It was shear will and determination that kept me on the Mall.

Once I got out of the cold, into the heat, showered and slept for 5 hours--the pain and suffering was a distant memory...I am so glad I was there.  Yes, Bericka T. Wilkins, a woman who shivers and shakes in 45 degree weather, was on the Mall with President Barack Obama and a few million of his supporters. 

Someone send me a button saying, "I Survived the 2009 Inauguration!"  Here are my pictures--

BEFORE DAWN

 

 

SECURITY

 

 

THE MASSES

 

 

 

 

 

US

 

 

 

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....

A Healthy Breakup - Part 2: Love Yourself & Reclaim Your Flavor

In every relationship both participants are part of a joint identity.  The commonly used pronouns, “I” and “me” usually give way to “us” and “we.”  This joint identity includes the thoughts, feelings, behaviors and preferences of both individuals.  This fundamental identity shift is profound and hard to disengage because it is an essential part of relationship building.  It’s taking black and white and creating something new.  Unfortunately, the new color permeates so deeply that onlookers may not be able to detect who you were before you created the third color. 

Herein lies the question, what do you do when it’s time to break up?  At the end of a relationship, instead of seeing that gray as a beautiful combination of your individual flavors—it only describes the melancholy of your mood and the color of your skies at mid-day. 

Love Yourself & Reclaim Your Flavor

It will take time to mend your heart.  It’s broken and nothing will fix it but time, chocolate and ice cream.  The only thing that will expedite your healing, is finding a way to love yourself without this person.  You must remember the black that created the gray and the red that fashioned the pink.  I always recommend time apart immediately following a breakup.  Have you ever tried to give up double chocolate cake while baking one every Sunday?  It’s nearly impossible.  Why torture yourself?  Remove yourself from the situation as much as possible.  (If there are children involved or some other circumstance that hinders separation, that’s another story.)  But if there is no reason to call or see him other than the fact that you are lonely, don’t do it!

Be Willing to Be Alone

I know.  It’s hard.  Most women don’t appreciate time alone.  It’s boring.  It’s tedious.  It’s lonely.  Throughout our lives we have gone from one institution to another and we’ve gotten lost in the mix.  First, our parents raised us, and we were a reflection of them.  Then there was grade school and we defined ourselves by our grades.  Then there was college and we defined ourselves by our choice of study.  Then there was our boyfriend (substitute causal lover, man, husband, etc.) and we found a way to lose ourselves in that institution/relationship.  Since the moment after delivery from our mother’s belly, most of us have found a way to avoid time alone.   

When a break up happens or needs to happen, one of the reasons we hold on so tightly is because we no longer remember our individual identity.  Once you are willing to redefine yourself and willing to be alone, you will naturally open yourself up to the possibility of a new relationship.  You will be confident in who you are, and you will radiate a light so bright that it will attract the man you desire.  This is an often unrecognized and underutilized law of attraction between the sexes.        

My Advice

Start your next relationship with a strong sovereign identity by ending that no-good relationship currently hindering your blessing.  Promise yourself that you will try.  From time-to-time, take an hour to focus on something other than your ex-boyfriend.  Rededicate yourself to yourself.  If this seems impossible, act as if you are a newfound lover in your life.  Be so excited about yourself, you can’t focus at work.  You can’t sleep.  You can’t wait until the next opportunity to spend time with yourself.  Think about the wonderful things you do and smile.  Reflect, observe and believe, “…aaaah.  It’s good to be you…”

 

TO BE CONTINUTED...

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

A Tradition is Born: The Story of My Island Hook

Wouldn't you love to be sitting in the Caribbean right now? 

Thirty some years ago, it was this blissful array of the royal blue sky and crystal clear waters that inspired my parents to come home with the tiny, undetectable package soon named Bericka.

Conceived in Bermuda, I have an genuine predisposition towards a life that is creative, romantic and involving lots of love. 

While my parents were prancing around the Caribbean, carefree and uninhibited, my mother purchased an Island Hook as a souvenir for her mother.  It's a silver bracelet with subtle character and charm.  I can imagine the hard-working native saying something like, "Ya ma'am,'dis will brin' ya lots of luv."  My mother, shy and not quite sure how to interact with the locals probably nodded, through him a hesitant smile and handed him the cash for the purchase. 

When my mother returned from her vacation/honeymoon she handed it to my grandmother, thinking it was a nice piece of jewelry she could wear on special occasions.  Neither had any idea the Island Hook had represented unity and love in the heart of islanders for centuries. 

Caribbean folklore states that when the open end of the hook is pointed up toward your heart, there is a significant other who has taken up residence in your heart.  When the open end of the hook is worn down, away from the heart, your love is free and available.  This is an inconspicuous way to tell onlookers whether you are attached or single. 

In the way a photograph has a thousands words, my bracelet's simple design speaks volumes about love.  My grandmother wore this bracelet until the day she died.  Then tradition was born when my mother handed it to me on the day of her mother's funeral.  My Island Hook is one of those mementos I will alway treasure because of its link to both my mother and my grandmother.

My bracelet, a blessed juju, can be found on my wrist everyday.  When I sleep it comforts my dreams and when I'm awake, it reminds me that love might be around the next corner.  It also reminds me of my grandmother and the bond she had with my grandfather.  Their love seemed infinite, as they were a couple who spent every day together until the day death parted them.  In 2008 this may seem like a novel idea, but that's the way it's supposed to be.

Is it Possible? A Healthy Breakup...Part 1

Sweetie, listen to me.  That pain in your chest is not a heart attack.  You are currently experiencing the withdrawals of a recent breakup.  Can't sleep?  Check.  Can't eat?  Check.  Wanna eat everything in your pantry?  Check.  Feel like your world is coming to an end?  Check.  Can't see a day when you will be happy again?  Check.  When he left, it felt like he took a part of you with him?  Check.

NOT SO...Your brightest days are ahead of you. 

If you've ever been in a relationship, you've also experienced a breakup.  Breakups are as frequent as the common cold in the height of the winter season; yet, to the woman reluctantly going through a breakup, it feels like the flu.  We live in a culture where relationships are started over night, but breakups take months and even years.

Is it possible?  A healthy breakup?...Yes!  You can find ways to cope with the changes in your life, grieve and eventually move on.  Considering I was dumped about 6 times this year, I have compiled a few helpful tips that helped me.  Here is part 1:

Brace Yourself when the Breakup is Looming.  Most of you know when a breakup is coming.  But if you feel blindsided it's because you were probably living in denial.  In retrospect, most women are able to see the signs they previously missed. Your boyfriend, who was with you every weekend, is suddenly scarcely available.  He finds ways to be unavailable for engagements that he would usually attend.  He becomes uncommunicative and despondent.  He is excited about everything that doesn't involve you.  He cancels dates and you two rarely have quality time.  Clearly something has changed. 

It's often hard to know whether a relationship is truly over or whether you are just experiencing a bump in the road.  Maybe time apart will prove that your relationship is not over.  It's possible the two of you are taking each other for granted.  Only time and careful consideration will tell.  Regardless, when a breakup is looming, it's time to prepare yourself for the single lifestyle. 

Hopefully you are not a jumper: a person who jumps from one relationship to another--it's not healthy.  Try to remember what your life looked like before you met this man.  You should have used your time to enhance your social networking skills, and you should have been going on lots of dates.  (Not a bad way to live.)  You should have appreciated your time alone and spent time re-inventing yourself.  You should have been exploring your city or picking up new hobbies.  (Call me a nerd, but as a single woman I taught myself how to knit, picked up sign language and learned to be comfortable with going to dinner, movies and concerts by myself.)  Whatever you do, you should be busy loving yourself. 

Single life isn't all doom and gloom.  With anything that doesn't come easy, practice makes perfect.  Look at singleness as a blessing in disguise.  You won't be coupled up and happy until you are single and happy.  Trust me--it's possible. 

TO BE CONTINUED... 

The Obama Baby & Crying Like a Baby

Dear Readers,

 

This has been a week of firsts.  Since Barack Obama won the 2008 presidential election, everything I’ve done has been achieved under the headline: THERE WILL BE A BLACK MAN IN THE WHITE HOUSE. 

My first breath during his acceptance speech was the deepest I have ever taken.  The first time I looked in the mirror after seeing his family on stage as Our First Family, I somehow looked different.  The chocolate in my skin was radiant and the white in my eyes was clearer.  I could see my roots: the slave and the businesswoman.  The African and the American.  I saw the 1800s, 1960s, and 2008 in my eyes.  The world had changed, and so had I.

 

This is my first blog under the new presidential elect.  The keystrokes feel different.  Each of the 26 letters and 10 numbers keys are embedded with possibilities.  If America can overwhelmingly elect a black man as their president, I can do anything.  Barack Obama has reminded us that it’s safe to dream again.  From the hood to Hollywood, from the projects to the President’s Oval Office, America really is the sweetest place on Earth.

It’s chocolate.

 

That night, at an election party, I watched in disbelief as the people around me cheered.  And then I watched as onlookers started to cry tears of joy.  On the screen, triumphant rivers flowed from Jesse Jackson’s eyes.  Then Oprah cried.  (Oh to have been in Chicago that night…)  It was intense, but somehow I held my composure.  I was too wound up to cry.  Honestly, it hadn’t hit me yet.  It was real, but it wasn’t.  I had longed for this moment since I was in my mother’s womb.  And as I watched it arrive, I was speechless in its birth…Every organ in my body was inert.  I had to remind myself to breathe.

So there was a voice in the back of my head that questioned my composure. My dad and my best friend had called me; I could hear the tears in their voices.  The next morning, I asked my mom, “did you cry?”  She had.  What was wrong with me?  How long would I be numb?

Then yesterday morning, as I sat on the bed and watched a young women talk about giving her newborn child the name Obama, the tears started like a neighbor’s sprinkler on a mid-afternoon timer.  I could not stop them.  It was the legacy that inspired me.  The thought about giving birth to children under the reign of a black president in the United States of America.  I thought about my grandmother who didn’t live to see November 4^th, 2008, but had provided the seeds that gave birth to my eyes.  I realized that while America is still a work in progress, we are working and walking in the right direction.

So I shed my tears for you and your loved ones, for me and mine.  This is our dream.  This is our day.  May your life be full of progress and change and hope!  God bless Barack Obama, his family, the long road ahead of him, and America.

Sincerely,

Bericka T. Wilkins

A Black Woman in the United States

It's Not Cupid if He's Stupid

Yes!  Ladies!  You should congratulate yourselves....You are reading Bee's blog, you are the hottest woman to ever hit DC's singles scene, you are out and about, you are meeting people, you are really doing it!  You are single and you love it!

Then...

You're hit by Cupid's fatal arrow.  I mean right smack in the middle of a party, she cocked back her bow and sent that arrow straight up in the air.  It arched and landed right in the middle of your forehead.  Dagggg, it stings!  You tried to play it cool.  It's not sexy to drool in public.  Could he be the one? I mean, he looked right straight at you.  His stare was intense.  He walked over to you.  His walk exuded confidence.  He stood right in front of you.  He smelled delicious.  Wow.  You took a breath so deep you nearly inhaled the air right out of his lungs.  Auhhhhhh.  This is what triumph feels like.

This man is everything you want.  Sexy?  Check.  Charismatic?  Check.  Smart?  Check?  Swagger and style?  Check.  Check.  His voice is deep and distinguished.  (His opening line isn't: "Guess how many kids I got?" True story, it happened to me...)  In light-hearted conversation he explains that he chooses to take the metro to work, instead of driving, because he sponsored a go green campaign at work....YES!!! He has a car, a house and a job...and bonus--he is environmentally conscience!  He is Mr. Wonderful.  Is it really possible?

Maybe...

After the number exchange, you go home feeling like you will never have to go to another party or bar again.  You and your man will spend the rest of your lives in each other's arms and live happily ever after*.  (*Results not typical!)  His conversation over the phone is engaging.  There are little things that he does, but nothing too obvious.  For instance, sometimes he forgets to call back when he said he would, but he is a busy person--so you excuse his forgetfulness.

After a few dates you're still excited about him, but something is bothering you.  He says he wants to be in a relationship, but his definition of a relationship leaves too much room for interpretation.  He doesn't understand the definition of commitment, and he's sneaky.  He says things like it probably isn't a good idea for you to come to his house, because his jealous ex-girlfriend is stalking him.  You agree, thinking he has so many wonderful attributes, a deranged ex is the least of your worries.  

The Onset of Drama:

After a few weeks there are so many lies and so much manipulation, you can't tell the difference between this relationship and your last relationship.  Your new boyfriend disappears almost every night of the week, and he is never available for causal conversation.  Ladies, I know you hate this one: he makes plans with you, then he doesn't show up and he doesn't call.  The next day he calls you with some lame excuse he apparently borrowed from his eight year son. 

And speaking of kids, you learn that he actually has 6 children by 4 different baby mammas, 5 of them stay with him at his mother's house, his job is a temporary assignment and for real--his car has been broke down for 2 years.  Just as quickly as your dreams of happily ever after emerged, they are shattered.  He is not your soul mate nor the man of your dreams.  He's a nightmare.  You thought the two of you were in love, but he is clearly stuck on lust.  (I know its hard to comprehend, but someone who loves you doesn't treat you this way...) 

And, I am not tripping about his situation, everyone goes through hard times.  Look at our economy, for crying out loud!  The true test of a woman's character is whether she can stand by her man through the good times and the bad times.  However, your problem with him should be the fact that he lied to you from the beginning.

The foundation of a solid relationship cannot be built on lies.  He is not what you want nor what you need.  The two of you may have shared some good times, but if he thinks you will buy into all of his crap, he's delusional.  The mere fact that he had to lie, cheat and deceive you makes him stupid.  Don't play into his game, it's fixed; you will lose every time. 

My Advice:

A man who will love you and care for you in sickness and in health will be honorable and respectable in the beginning--wait for him.  Quit the loser, and ride the bench this season.  You can't win this game--he's cheating.  There was no need for games, lying, and dancing around the issues.  Leaving won't be easy; you will harp on the fun times the two of you shared.  You will suffer from romantic amnesia, and you will tell yourself, "well, I always said I wanted kids."  A few children are okay, but let's not fill a minivan with just his kids. 

It will seem like everyone around you is in a relationship, but don't stay with him out of fear.  You are allowed a few weak moments--we all have them.  But in the end please wise up...its not cupid if he's stupid.  LET'S KEEP IT MOVING LADIES!!!  There are wonderful men out here, and plenty of time to find them.  In the meantime, be single and happy! 

The Numbers Game

One of the hardest games to play in dating is the numbers game.  It requires patience and stamina.  In the collective experience, there isn’t one woman alive who has made a connection with every guy she met or tried to date.  In my experience, I have found that you generally have to sift through a lot of men to find the gold pieces.  I call it the 10-to-1 rule.

 

Let’s say you meet ten guys, you will find that at least three of them are jerks.  These are the jerks you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy.  These are the dates that should end abruptly, give the excuse that you left your curling iron on or you just got called into work.  In extreme circumstances, tell him you are an international spy for the government and a person you are investigating is sitting two tables down.  Be dramatic. When he goes to see who you are talking about, grab his hand and say, “You can't look!  You might draw his attention!” 

 

Then with a serious face, inform him that you cannot jeopardize your mission and you must leave immediately to report his location to your colleagues. Be sure to mention that he must never tell anyone about this conversation or this date, and you will do the same.  Once you get outside and around the corner, crack up and call your girlfriends.  Whatever your excuse is, get out of there.  Don’t waste your time on jerks!

 

Of the seven guys remaining who aren’t completely appalling, the bad news is that you’re only going to have chemistry with approximately three of them.  For one reason or another, you will find a way to sift through the other four candidates.  It could be any number of things.  Maybe you like a clean cut guy, and one of them brags about cutting his hair himself.   Clearly he can't draw a straight line, much less clip his hair straight. 

 

Another guy might be completely boring.  Perhaps he monopolizes conversations with stories about his job as an accountant.  He believes that accounting is the most interesting thing in the world, and can't understand why anyone wouldn't agree.  On dates he is so busy talking and not listening, he wouldn't notice if you left the room. 

 

Another one of the doomed four will size you up in the first five minutes, and determine you are the woman destined to take care of him.  He will ask for your hand in marriage on the second date.  I believe in love at first sight, but stalker at first sight is scary!  There is clearly an underlying problem there.  Unless you are ready to be a grown man’s mother, run for your life!

 

So now you are down to three men who you find reasonably attractive and you enjoy each other’s personalities.  Guess what?  It's likely that only one of them is actually looking for a relationship.  Every guy you meet, who would make the perfect boyfriend or husband isn’t ready to be tied down just yet; maybe eventually, but not in the moment you meet him.  You need to be ready to accept that.  An honest man will tell you if he is ready for a relationship.  A respectable man will really mean it.  Make sure his actions are congruent with his words.

 

How long does it take you to meet ten men?  Ten days or ten months?  It depends on how often you go out.  They don't knock on your door.  The key to being happily single is about keeping your numbers up.  To do it, you must rule out the men who won’t stick around and it keep moving.  You cannot waste your time on the 9 men who don’t make the cut. 

 

Are you the single woman who keeps a man around because he's a warm body at night and the two of you share a strong physical connection--even when it's clear he doesn’t want a relationship?  I can't advise this if you are sleeping with him.  Agree or disagree with me, but a bad guy with good sex can make you do things you wouldn’t normally do.  If you don’t understand why, stay tuned.  I have a lot to say regarding the games men and women play when it comes to sex etiquette.  Regardless, if you are not meeting men, you are likely to be single for a really long time.   

What Would You Attempt To Do If You Knew You Could Not Fail?

Name-calling is wrong, but "I told you so" is down right ugly.

I recently heard a colleague say it to another co-worker.  After complaining about a decision he made, she came back with "I told you so."  I thought to myself, are you so desperate to be validated, that you would do it at the cost of someone's feelings?  The incident was completely inappropriate, but it wasn't directed at me so I brushed it off.  (Still a little self-absorbed...)

Nonetheless, on any given day, I am carrying around 5,632 insecurities.  I am plagued with thoughts like, I am not good enough for this, I can't that...You name it, it's in my self-doubt repertoire. 

The other day, I asked my sister if she thought I was good enough to make a living writing.  Her response was, "sure, but your proofreading sucks."  Okay, maybe she didn't phase it like that, but that's what I heard.  It was honest constructive criticism, but badly timed.  I am the first to admit that while I love words, I have been known to severely mistreat them.  When writing, I leave out words, inadvertently repeat them, misspell them and occasionally use the wrong ones--moreover, I have a hard time catching these blunders when I proof my ramblings.  She of course had no idea, but at the time I was suffering from self-doubt and was looking for a little validation. 

Then, to add salt to the wound, later that day I got an email from an online magazine declining my application to freelance.  Wow.  So commenced a session of berating myself.  The long list of "I told you so" started.  Do you really think you are good enough to make money writing?  Do you think you will ever finish and publish that book you started?  Talent isn't even in your vocabulary.  I TOLD YOU SO!   I TOLD YOU SO!   I TOLD YOU SO!  The negative self talk was so loud, it overshadowed all the positive feedback I had recently received.

I was ready to scrap the blog, burn my manuscript and quit everything that gives me a little bit of joy in the otherwise mundane existence I call my life.  I suppose it was no coincidence that a few days before my "I told you so" meltdown, I saw a decorative coffee mug that read, "What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?" This quote attributed to Dr. Robert Schuller, kept me afloat that day. 

If I had three wishes, believing I am capable--regardless the task in front of me--would be a wish well-spent.

Needless to say, you are reading this blog, so I didn't scrap it.  After I got myself together, I drove to Cosi, pulled out my Mac Book and bought a grammar book off Overstock.com.  The silver lining: I realized "I told you so" is the ugliest thing you can say to another person and yourself.  I overcame that hurdle, and my determination meter moved up a few notches.  

You Make Me Feel Human

Some of my closest girlfriends are also some of my newest girlfriends.  In particular, Nita and I have a lot in common.  We both enjoy exploring dc/md/va clubs and lounges; we enjoy spending hours on end complaining or joking about our singleness (big ups to the man who thought he was going to tell Nita off, but all he did was coin the catchphrase--"See That's Why You Single!"); we enjoy reading the same books; and she is the one who inspired me to spend more time writing.

I will never forget something she said during one of our early conversations.  And I loosely quote, "Bee, having met you makes me feel human.  Finally, someone who understands me.  Several of my friends are married and they can't relate to my situation.  You meet me where I am.  You get me."

Ladies, its important to support and understand your girlfriends.  

Understand That We All Have Different Situations:  If you are married, you are going to have a different set of problems than your unmarried girlfriends.  Don't judge her.  Especially if you've been married a long time.  The rules of dating are always changing.  Seeing more than one man is completely acceptable if she is able to balance it with taking care of her self.  Listen to her, give her your opinion and be encouraging. 

Be Available To Listen:  Sometimes, I just shut up and let Nita talk.  I put my burdens and my worries on the back burner.  That's what real friends do.  She has showed me how to be open and honest even when it hurts.  Being honest and being judgment are two very different things.  Sometimes she will want to hear the right thing to do, sometimes she won't.  Regardless, the only way to keep the lines of communication open is to provide a safe-place where she can open the flood gates to her emotions.

Do Something You Don't Want To Do:  Sometimes I don't always feel like going out, and I know there are times Nita doesn't either.  When in doubt, we compromise.  We both understand that the best way to say single is to sit at home with our pets and watch Animal Planet.  Not Cool!  So we make an effort to go out even when we don't feel like it.  Sometimes the best support is doing something you don't normally do--that's how she knows you care.

Nita, I have many thanks for you in return.  Knowing you reminds me that God always places the right people in our lives at the right time.  I was worried I wouldn't have anyone to club with me and "drop it like its hot..."  Not only are you a friend that offers entertainment, you offer insight.  I no longer worry that our friendship is a fleeting thought or a passing breeze.  I know the dynamics of our friendship may change when you or I find true love, but we will always have these days to fall back on for laughs and comforting sighs.

In the meantime, cut out all that attitude in your throat about my blog!  I am writing as fast and as much as I can while maintaining a full-time job...SEE NOW THAT'S WHY YOU'RE SINGLE!!!

:O)

The Cost of Looking Good & The Drink Test

I need to talk to the brothas for a moment.  Sistas, let me know if you agree...

Regardless of what men want to believe, dating is expensive for both sexes.  As a woman, it takes money for me to step out of my house looking good during the week and especially on the weekends.  I know my style appears fresh and natural and carefree, but it comes with hard work and a price tag.  Simply put, it costs a woman more money than it costs a man to look good.  Let's take a look at the monthly cost analysis:

• Shoes & Clothes:  $100 - $250 a month at a bare minimum.  Some months I'm frugal, others I splurge.
• Hair: $25 every two weeks.  The kinks don't maintain themselves... (And if you don't believe me, ask one of my sistas with the fly natural hairstyles, who pays twice as much for a shape up than a man.)
• Monthly Manicure & Pedicure: $25 (Ladies:  They have a two for the price of one special on Mondays and Tuesdays at Best Nails on Huntington Avenue in Alexandria, VA--Ask for Cindy)
• Lotions, Perfumes & Other Smell Goods: $15 - $20 every few months.  That sweet smell that lingers after a hug comes with a price tag.
• Gym Membership: $80 a month.  Genetics are my enemy!  I must do at least 45 minutes of cardio at the gym, at least 4 times a week.
• Entertainment:  $150 a month minimum.  To be out and about doesn't happen for free.  I pay for concerts, happy hours and special events every week.  When I go to a lounge or club, I try to get there early enough to avoid a cover charge, but that doesn't always happen.

All I'm saying is, when you approach me at a bar--that "je ne sais quoi" (certain unexplainable something) that drew your attention to me, is part natural and part purchased.  The least you can do is buy me a drink.

If you are so kind as to offer me a drink and I say water, it's probably because I'm watching my calories for the night.  If the bartender asks you whether you want tap water or bottled, and I say it doesn't matter--it's a test.  If you bring me tap, you failed.

Unfortunately, You Remind Me of Someone I Used To Date

I recently met a man we'll call Steven, who reminded me of a man I used to date we'll call Ricky.

Background on Ricky:

He was a sweet guy who I loved--for exactly 30 days.  I will always have love in my heart for him, but our passionate, romantic love was destroyed by what I call microwave dating.  We popped our relationship into a deluxe LG microwave, and the rest was history.  We we were hot and heavy within days.  He was everything I was looking for.  Funny.  Charismatic.  Physically attractive.  A great lover.  Icing on the cake: his family knew my family.  It was like, where have you been my whole life?  We were introduced to each other at a high school basketball game by a friend I'd known since high school.

In retrospect, I was so excited about having met "my future husband" that I overlooked key attributes that would eventually end our relationship.  First, he was still married.  He and his wife had been separated and living apart for at least 5 years.  (He lied about his status when my friend asked about his wife.)  She was never really a threat, but technically he wasn't single.  Second, he had adolescent children--one already a teenager, the other one approaching her teenage years.  As a woman who is still undecided about the likelihood of having children, I probably need to be eased into the "mommy" situation with a baby.  I think it's important that I start with the diapers to see if I can handle the job.  His children were pleasant in the beginning, but it was clear they would rather see their father with their mother.  Third, his employment was intermittent.  He was a private contractor who made decent money, but only worked an average of 2 out of 5 days a week.

Just as quickly as our relationship was fiery hot, it was icy cold.  If I had taken my time, listened to the brother and learned what was really going on in his life, we would have never dated.  But that was a lesson learned.

Background on Steven: See background on Ricky.

Summation:

I know that they are too different people, but after the first five minutes with Steven, I was having flashbacks.  Everything about him screamed, "RICKY!"  And I cannot bare to repeat history.  They both have the same look: tall, dark chocolate skin, dimples and teddy bear-like stomach.  (Call me crazy, but I think it's the sexiest thing to spend the evening cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie and rubbing a man's stomach)  They both have children.  Ironically enough, they are both the sole caretaker for their children.  And they both have unstable employment.  I almost wanted to tug at Steven's face to see if he was wearing one of those 007 super sophisticated human-flesh masks.  Maybe he was Ricky playing an evil trick on me!

In the end, I feel pretty bad about making one man pay for the mishaps of another.  I could be totally wrong.  Nonetheless, my instincts regarding this situation have told me to run in the other direction, and that is exactly what I am going to do.  I just need to figure out how I am going to get out of dinner tonight.  Is my cat sick or my head hurting?  Not sure yet, I will probably make it up as I go along. 

Thank You to the Gentleman who Bought My Dinner

I need to say thank you to the gentleman I met yesterday, who generously bought me dinner.  It included shrimp cocktail, two Seven & Sevens, and some organismic bread pudding.  (That was the bartenders adjective of choice--I am only agreeing after the fact.)  I certainly wasn't expecting you to pick up the check, but it made my night. 

Your conversation was right up there with with the bread pudding; you reminded me there really are men with interesting conversation.  Furthermore, why do we have so much in common?  Between our work-related interests and how we spend our free time, we are practically the same person.  You working for the government and me for the FBI.  LOL.  That was too funny!  We started talking to this red-blooded, smoky Irishman who for some reason "loves our f'ing country!"  (You have to imagine him saying this in his thick, leprechaun accent.)

Anyway, he spent a few muddled moments explaining how the Irish are basically the Blacks of Europe.  You looked at me and somehow I knew we were going to play with him a little bit.  You started it by playfully telling him that we were married with 3 kids.  Then, when he asked what we did for a living--I heard myself say I worked for the FBI.  Where did I come up with that?  As the buoyant antics surmounted, by the end of the night we were a happily married rushing home to take care of the things that married people do. 

Last night, was the perfect Thursday night that almost didn't happen.  When I got lost on my way to the restaurant, I was so close to home.  But something said, "Bericka, you might miss something if you don't go.  Keep looking for C Street...)  Little did I know. 

For a little while, I was able to put it out of my mind that you belong to someone else and that our relationship will never be more that just a few drinks at the bar.  But, sometimes it's nice to pretend.  One day, I will sit down at the bar with a gentleman who is devoted to me.  We will share a few laughs, talk about our day and in reality we'll rush home to be in each other arms.  The bread pudding will be our foreplay. 

In the meantime, I will continue to live the life of a single girl in the city. 

Are You Suffering From the SSDD Way of Life?

How do you keep going when each day seems exactly like the one before it?  I have several friends who are tried of the same shit different day (SSDD) way of life.

A girlfriend called me today, and she started an hour long converstaion by saying she was tired of her finances being out of control.  I agreed, this was a song and dance I had waltzed to several times before.  She had gained back all of the weight she lost over the summer.  I concurred.  For three consecutive weeks, I weighed in a pound and a few ounces heavier at my weight watchers meetings.  She was unhappy with the living space in her house, because it felt cramped.  She wanted clothes that fit better, looked better and felt better.  Basically, she wanted a better life. 

I wasn't sure what to say.  My situation is very similar (including a manless ticket item), but on this particular day my morale wasn't so low.  True, I'm tired of not being able to afford what I consider the basic necessities of life.  Gas, healthier food, nicer clothing and the occasional pedicure.  I'm worth it, dammit!

So I said, "I don't really know what to tell you, outside of my life sucks too.  But, my personal projects keep me happy and make each day a little more tolerable.  I am writing a book, a couple blogs and that makes me happy." 

Eventually the conversation ended on a positive note.  She told me about a story she had written for a friend's son.  "Basically you wrote an amazing children's book," I commented.  "It sounds like all you need is some art work and you've got something publishable.  Now that sounds pretty exciting to me!" 

So how do we keep going when we have no idea how much gas is going to cost tomorrow or who our country will elect president in November?  How do you survive each anticlimactic day, when another one follows it with identical appeal?

My guess is, you take note of the little blessings and keep yourself involved in projects that make you smile.  I am alive and I am happy.

A New Man Every Day

This anecdote is not about dating a new man every day.  However, if someone wants to read about that I would be happy to research it and provide some insight.  No, I actually want to talk about the disaster that led to a mini-miracle earlier this morning. 

Remember how I was standing over my tub with a plunger the other night?  Well, there is no way I could have repaired the catastrophe that was brewing in the sewer lines beneath my house.  It took 3 different crews, one from Roto Rooter and 2 more from DC Water and Sewer Authority to open my sewer lines.  And in the end, I had about a half inch of murky sewer water in my bathroom spilling into my bedroom.  So disgusting!  I was mortified, and the cats utterly confused.  They didn't know whether to do the back stroke or jump for higher ground...

In case you didn't know, neither Roto Rooter nor DC's WASA is required to clean up sewer water that has spilled into your house.  If they do it, it's a courtesy provided by the plumber that happens to get assigned to your job.  WASA was the last crew out of my house, and they tracked crap water back and forth from my bathroom to my front door.  Yuck! 

So what would my lover/boyfriend/husband have done in this situation?  Well, since none of the aforementioned exists, there is no way to know.  He might dive in and say, "don't worry Baby, I got this.  Rest your pretty little head" (my imaginary man is so wonderful!) or he might say, "I ain't dealing with that shit! You betta' call somebody!" 

Yesterday, my girlfriend's uncle came to my rescue.  He is currently in town from Fort Worth, TX helping her paint and repair a few things around her condo.  The moral of the story is that there doesn't need to be one particular guy that comes to your rescue all the time.  The Uncle vacuumed up the sewer water, mopped my floor with bleach, and comforted me with his entertaining stories. 

He was my knight in shining armor on Wednesday.  Who will it be tomorrow? 

Another Reminder that I am Single

Five minutes ago, I was standing over my tub trying to clear out the drain--with a plunger. It's after midnight, and I need to be up at 5:30 in the morning. Why do I have to be Ms. Fix-It tonight? Like Jill Scott said, I can fix it, cook it, clean it, pay it, assemble it and rub it.

I just don't wanna be the one who has to do it all the time!...

Home Safely. Good Nite. Had a Good Time.

Every time we go out, at the end of the night I text my girlfriend to let her know that I made it home safely. My text goes something like this: "hm safely. goodnite. had a good time. :-) -bee" I think its important to be positive regardless of how the night went.

Tonight we started off at 201 Lounge. I was a private event; fully-equipped with a guest list and $10 cover. The innocuous bouncers at the front door were good looking, but stoic. We got there early (10:00), and there might have been 6 people in the lounge--including the staff. That's the problem with arriving early--you can choose to start the party yourself by jumping on the dance floor alone or wait for the party to get started. Sometimes we start the party, but tonight we decided to wait.

We sat at one of the unreserved tables and discussed a few of our future events. Call us event planners/relationship consultants. Our first joint event will be in January. We are currently looking for a venue. My friend a professional match maker, and well I am just looking for a good match. (But I seemed to have digressed.) A member from my 30+ City Singles Meetup came out and he was very nice. I believe he is an engineer, self-employed and single. I didn't ask about his relationship status, but I assume you're single if you come out to a singles event. He didn't come with us to the next venue (we had a mini-bar hop), so I hope he comes out again.

After we complaining about the sparse crowd, ordering a drink and some sweet potato fries, I paid my tab and we decided to leave. Then we hopped over to Posh. It was my first time there and I can't believe how small it is. Plus, it seemed like a young crowd. Don't get me wrong, I'm only 30 but I like to party with people who are 30 and older. So anyway, we spent most of our time there standing around looking at Beyonce and Michael Jackson performing on the big screen. Towards the end of the night, I danced--although I didn't agree with the DJs style of music mixing. As soon as I got on the dance floor a leechlike young man found his way to my backside. Several times I had to remove his hands from my body. But how does a woman fight with an octopus without making a scene?

I drank, I danced, I socialized. What more can I ask for or expect?

It's 2 something in the morning. I am "hm safely. goodnite. had a good time. :-) -bee"

Single for a Little While, Happy Forever

It's another Saturday night in DC.  It's rained all day thanks to hurricane Hanna--the wind blew, rain fell in abundance but mother nature offered us some mercy.  We didn't get hit too hard, because my 1940's brick duplex didn't flood.  And now that the clouds have dried up, so to speak, I am headed out for a night on the town.  I am going to 201 Lounge with a few of my girlfriends and some singles from my meetup group.  If you haven't heard of meetup, its a social networking site that is a brilliant way to meet people with similar interests.

So here is the duplicity surrounding tonight's scheduled events.  I love dancing and hanging out with my friends, but its been a wild rollercoaster of a summer.  There is a part of me that needs a break from the nightlife.  But how can I take a break when I feel like I am missing something if I sit at home on a Saturday night?  I understand the music and crowd at 201 Lounge is nice; so off I go.

I am feeling pretty confident.  I have on blue jeans and a silk top.  Kinda sexy.  No--really sexy.  Its understated; my boobs aren't hanging out and my legs are covered up.  (I'm sure there will be ladies showing off all their goods tonight.)  But all that matters is how I feel, right?  Exactly.  A little confirmation always feels good, but its not a necessity.  So I will give it try--I am single, social and ready for anything.  Keep your fingers crossed.