Tuesday, February 22, 2011

I Need To Get Married!

Someone recently incorrectly referenced this article while proclaiming damn near demanding that I get married ASAP. Because well although I am barely 26 years old with my own life plan, he felt it was time for me to settle down. Not later, but now. Apparently my standards are too high and I need to be more flexible in order to find a mate. Because at this rate, he feels that I will expire soon and spontaneously combust without ever finding love. This epiphany was coming from a 29-year-old man who still lives at home with his parents, still has his mom wash his drawers and has actually never been in a relationship. You can imagine how closely I listened to him.

Before you read the snippet of the article, know that the author is three times divorced and currently single. Lately I'm just surrounded by relationship role models who want to give me relationship advice. No thanks.

Here’s a snippet of the article:

Why You're Not Married
You want to get married. It's taken a while to admit it. Saying it out loud -- even in your mind -- feels kind of desperate, kind of unfeminist, kind of definitely not you, or at least not any you that you recognize. Because you're hardly like those girls on TLC saying yes to the dress and you would never compete for a man like those poor actress-wannabes on The Bachelor.

You've never dreamt of an aqua-blue ring box.

Then, something happened. Another birthday, maybe. A breakup. Your brother's wedding. His wife-elect asked you to be a bridesmaid, and suddenly there you were, wondering how in hell you came to be 36-years-old, walking down the aisle wearing something halfway decent from J. Crew that you could totally repurpose with a cute pair of boots and a jean jacket. You started to hate the bride -- she was so effing happy -- and for the first time ever you began to have feelings about the fact that you're not married. You never really cared that much before. But suddenly (it was so sudden) you found yourself wondering... Deep, deep breath... Why you're not married.

Well, I know why.

How? It basically comes down to this: I've been married three times. Yes, three. To a very nice MBA at 19; a very nice minister's son at 32 (and pregnant); and at 40, to a very nice liar and cheater who was just like mydad, if my dad had gone to Harvard instead of doing multiple stints in federal prison.

I was, for some reason, born knowing how to get married. Growing up in foster care is a big part of it. The need for security made me look for very specific traits in the men I dated -- traits it turns out lead to marriage a surprisingly high percentage of the time. Without really trying to, I've become a sort of jailhouse lawyer of relationships -- someone who's had to do so much work on her own case that I can now help you with yours.

But I won't lie. The problem is not men, it's you. Sure, there are lame men out there, but they're not really standing in your way. Because the fact is -- if whatever you're doing right now was going to get you married,you'd already have a ring on it. So without further ado, let's look at the top six reasons why you're not married.

According to Tracey McMillan and my old friend (old as in past tense), I'm one (or a combination) of these: I'm a bitch, a slut, a liar, shallow, selfish or not good enough. You can catch the rest of it here. Those were her bullet points in case you didn't want to read the whole thing.

I cannot even bare to continue to blog about this nonsense.

Good day everyone.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Guest Post: Some Monday Funny

This post has nothing to do with Valentine's Day, its just funny. If you know this girl like I do, you will laugh even harder imagining her facial expressions and such.
Submitted by Selisha (I can't remember what she called herself in past posts so I came up with this name)

I never go to the library looking good. Never. There is no one to impress here, and I have a man, therefore I show up looking “effortless”. Please, we need to be clear about the definition of effortless. I am not talking about this natural beauty, with fresh makeup and a coordinated outfit straight from an American Eagle commercial. We are talking sweatshirt, hair barely combed, tattered jeans and flip-flops. I come to get work done and that is it. I have followed this model for almost two and a half years now, so I am used to being looked over by immature undergraduate students and student athletes. Another interesting fact about me: I never get hit on by men. Well, let’s not say never, but rarely. Maybe it happens and I am unaware of it, but I will say this much: a man has not overtly hit on me for some time now. Thus, when situations, like the one I experienced today, happen, I am completely caught off guard.

After spending four hours in the library working on my dissertation, I decided that it was time to take a break for some coffee so that I could work for another four hours. I descend the library and make my way to the lobby. Using one of the computers is an African American gentleman. I could not give you his physical description because I wasn’t paying attention. I don’t need to. He wasn’t my boo or Idris Elba, so who cares? I continue to make my way outside towards [school] Grounds, and then I hear:

Man: Why are you walking so fast?

Me (turning around in shock, but still walking): Because I’m thirsty and I want some coffee.

Man: You have beautiful hair.

Me (squinting my eyes at him): I purchased it.

Man: What is your name?

Me (still not understanding what is going on): [Selisha](I know, dumb mistake!)

Man: [Jerry]
Me (still walking): Great.

Man: Where is your boyfriend at?

Me: WHAT?!

Man: Where is your boyfriend at?

Me: At home.

Man: Oh, so you got one?

Me: Yeah.

Man: So you love him? Are you faithful?

Me (shocked and face twisted into disgust): YES!! YES!! [Honestly, the only thing that was going through my mind at this point was how much I wished my boo was somewhere close by and how much I actually DID LOVE him and how I would ALWAYS be faithful to him.]

Man (accepting defeat and turning around): Ok.

There are two points to this story: (1) Men, please come up with better lines if you plan on approaching a woman and (2) this would have never happened if I had a piece of jewelry on my left ring finger.

The names of this story have been changed to protect the writer

Friday, February 11, 2011

From A Cereal Reader: In Her Inbox

After Tuesday's post I was starting to feel like I was one of the only women in the world going through b.s. n 2011. (I know I'm not the only one but sometimes I just feel that way.) But one of our trusty readers forwarded me a message a guy from a guy she met a while back. They had gone out once and things had fizzled. He decided now was the time to pick things up. Only he wanted to warn her about his situation:

Ok we can go out when I get my money. Until then we should have movie nights.


Tuesday, February 8, 2011

LAZING DATING 2011: My first 30 days

This year seems to be the year of the lazy ass men. In the past 30 days I have met so many men who have no problem telling me they don't plan on putting forth any effort in getting to know me. This has resulted in me going on zero dates thus far.

Guy 1: During our first textersation (Oh how I loathe these), this guy asks me to send him a pic. I was going to give this guy a break, considering I didn't remember what he looked like either since we met when I was leaving the club. But, I asked him to send me one too and he said his phone doesn't take pics. I stopped replying soon after. Then he hit me the next day, "So you really not gonna send me a pic." To which I didn't reply.

Guy 2: This guy offered to cook for me for our first date. First he suggested happy hour, but because it was during one of my fasts, he said that he could cook me up something a lot healthier. I know he was testing me, I just don't have any desire to play that game right now. OK wait, there was nothing wrong with him or his approach. I just wasn't interested.

Guy 3: This was yet another textersation. (I've just been too lazy to demand or make a phone call.) I had a guy tell me I had to work up to a dinner date. [insert loud obnoxious laughter and then *blank stare*] His first attempt at planning (I use that word very loosely) a date was to offer a DVD and pizza date. I told him that I don't feel comfortable going to any man's house that I didn't know. He then replied, "I don't just go giving out dinner dates. You have to work up to those." After confirming that was he was serious, I replied with the following: "That's really cute but I don't need to work up to anything. Good luck with trying that line on some other girl. No need in texting me any further."

Guy 4: I had had a few phone conversations with this guy and he seemed cool enough. I gave him a few suggestions on different nights and for each them he already had plans. Instead of requesting one on one time, he continually invited me on outings with his friends, for example: "Meet me at [club I would never go to]. I really want to see you." My homeboy told me this is his thought process. " He’s thinking, she’s hot and I want to show her off. His friends will be thinking he’s gonna hit later on and if she is crazy, he won’t care." I wasn't interested and was tired of being the one trying to see him one on one.

*In my defense, I did offer alternatives to most of these guys. I haven't met anyone that has captivated me enough to leave Sir Trundle (my bed), get dressed, and go anywhere. No dates so far in 2011.

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