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Author Archives: Urban[e]Soul

Marry, Kill, or Do: Resume Dater Edition

There was once lived a girl who’d never expressed how a man made her feel emotionally. Through all the endless conversations she’d have with her girlfriends about the men she dated, words like “butterflies,” “real connection,” “funny,” or “chemistry” never escaped her lips. Instead, she’d gush about what school he attended, what his career plans were, and how those career plans somehow aligned with her own. She was in love with a man’s accomplishments. She was a resume dater. See, men date women they may not really like for sex and dump them not too long after. Women, on the other hand, date men they may not really like for his achievements…and try to wife him. Shocking, I know.

Whose fault is it that a woman can have absolutely nothing in common with a man other than a college education and still convince herself that he’s The One? I don’t know, but women are told from an early age to get themselves a man with a good job and money. Period. Remember, Belle wasn’t checkin’ for that above-average cabin-dwelling villager, Gaston. Far from it. She was strung out on a bipolar Beast who lived in the middle of nowhere with talking dishes. Alas, the important thing was that he kept her lookin’ fly, dancin’ around ballrooms while hired servants not only catered to her, but provided unlimited emotional support. Gaston wasn’t spending racks on her like that. Nor did Gaston live in a castle. Personality-wise, Gaston and Beast were both pretty uncouth and foul, so neither trumped the other in that area. Yet, Belle gave Beast that kiss. Message sent.

For those of us in our twenties, men who don’t live in castles still manage get put on auto-choose just for enrolling in a good state university. Think about it. Pudgy, nerdy, or no-game havin’ a** ninjas are choosin’ like they just scored the winning shot. Game 7. Women don’t date men they feel extra tingly over because attraction and personality are only 10% of the equation. Nope, they date men with credentials…men who are “on their level.”  A lot of resume daters could care less about a real connection. It’s why some women are only capable of establishing a connection with a man based on accomplishments. If your conversations with the woman you’re dating start and end with discussion about school and/or career, she doesn’t really like you like that. I mean, she probably likes you, but she doesn’t like you.

For women, the real problem with being a resume dater is that it’s intuitive to equate earning potential with being a good guy (or a guy that’s good for them). It has a lot to do with the perception that a man is educated because he’s a good man. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that there has never been a black nerd on TV who was also a player. In fact, the media (and Tyler Perry) has been dividing black men into faithful Carlton’s and womanizing Will’s for generations. Consequently, resume daters put impressive resumes on a pedestal and act accordingly.

The thing is, resume daters aren’t heauxs or gold-diggers (those are women of another variety). They’re women who are simply doing what society tells them to do—going out and choosing breadwinners. Unlike heauxs and gold-diggers, resume daters aren’t out to trick anybody. They’re out for love, just like anybody else.

Marry, Kill, or Do: Mama’s Boy Edition

There are a lot of types of men women should stay away from, but mama’s boys are pretty much at the top of my stay-the-hell-away-from-me list.  Yeah, I know a man who treats his mama right knows how to treat women and blah blah blah. However, I’m pretty much convinced this was made up by some delusional woman to give other women hope that an auto-indicator of good-guyness exists. A) Women get lied to, cheated on, and disrespected by true soldiers of the mama’s boy movement everyday and B) A mama’s boy will let his mama disrespect his girlfriend or wife to no end. So, all of that non-disrespect you’ll be getting from him, you’ll be getting on the back end from his mama and/or sisters. Personally, I’d rather deal with the bull from the person I’m actually in a relationship with (preferably, none at all) than his mama and/or sisters.

Obviously, I want a man to love his mother and/or sisters and have a wonderful relationship with her/them. But, mama’s boys are different. They’re afraid of their mothers in general, afraid to ever say no to their mothers, and afraid to disappoint their mothers. In the beginning, it’s cute and maybe even a little endearing. But, when your dates start getting canceled because she locked herself out of her car and AAA suddenly doesn’t exist or whether or not the two of you should be together is suddenly called into question because she doesn’t like you, dating a mama’s boy gets old. Quick.

Sure, I’ve experienced the suckiness of dating a mama’s boy, but what happens when his mom not only doesn’t prefer you, but prefers his ex? This is a situation I’ve never personally encountered, but imagine thousands of couples have. Even Chris Brown’s mama recently tweeted Rihanna (subliminally, of course) that she missed and loved her. Rihanna (subliminally, of course) replied that she missed and loved her too. To me, that’s awkward. It’s awkward because they’re a couple who probably will never be together again. It’s also awkward because dude has a new relationship, yet his momisn’t over his ex. It’s really awkward (and disrespectful) because Chris Brown’s mother made such an awkward gesture publicly. How can two people move on if his mama won’t even do it?

Starting a new relationship after you’ve already been in a real relationship is hard enough. (Sidenote: by “real relationship,” I mean the kind that forces you to reconsider the steps you’ve taken in life just so you can incorporate that other person into your life goals and plans.) There’s the getting used to a new person and what not. But, there’s also the never-ending comparisons you subconsciously make. Remember how your ex used to leave that one sock laying around? Thank God this shiny new guy is a neat freak! Or, remember how your last girl used to fill in the blank on the regular and now your new girl refuses to fill in the blank until you put a ring on it? Too bad, because she ain’t her! For most people, the comparisons ultimately end with a matter of taste and perception—Lebron vs. Kobe, if you will.  Most importantly, these differences are trade-off’s, and it really doesn’t matter that your new dude smells kind of odd because the last one had dirty fingernails.

For mamas, though, there is no comparison. To her, the new girl isn’t an upgrade or even a lateral move. It’s a straight-up downgrade. It’s the reason why mamas are so bold in declaring their preference for the last chick, either privately or publicly. Herein lies the awkwardness. Wanting to move on and being able to are two different things, and mamas love to complicate that process. Even mamas who wanttheir mama’s boys to be happy want that happiness to come in one of two ways: Either doting on their mother the rest of their lives or doting on a woman they’ve hand-picked and approve of.

Us women who aren’t apart of the hand-chosen elite are pretty much stuck fighting an uphill battle. Now, I’m not against dating reformed mama’s boys—men who’ve gone through mama’s boys anonymous to learn to cut the umbilical cord and what not. But, dating a mama’s boy is only worth it when the relationship is great. So great it’s damn-near flawless. And, he has to be great, too. So great he’s been featured in Essence’s bachelor of the month every year since high school. I don’t mean a medium-iight relationship like Chrissy and Jim Jones. And, I don’t mean a gross-lookin’, hood ass ninja medium-iight dude like Jim Jones, either. If I’m going to be battling another woman for my man and that other woman is his mama…well, it better be worth it. Chances are, it won’t be. 

An Open Letter to Men (RE: Take Care)

There are two things that irk me. Pretenders and haters. People who spend their lives pretending to be whatever and hatin’ on whomever can pretty much get doused with a bucket of slime. Nickelodeon. Unfortunately, the release of Take Care brought out the hatin’ ass pretender in men around the country. To mask their deep appreciation (what else) for a record that actually speaks to a portion of their every day experiences, men started pretending like Take Care wasn’t for them. Even worse, men started acting likeTake Care was garbage because, well, what kind of rapper doesn’t lie about who he is? Men lied and said they grew ovaries listening to it. Men hated on Drake for talkin’ about women, instead of bad b*tches and h*es. Men hated on Drake for…uhh…dealing with the consequences of making major choices in your twenties. The thing about Drake that appeals to female audiences isn’t that his music is effeminate/emotional/for suckas. It’s simply that he’s every guy every woman has ever been in a relationship with in Mp3 form. We don’t relate to Drake. We know him because Drake makes music for men who date and sleep with women. That emo light-skin ninja you love to call soft? That’s ya’ll. Every. Single. One of you.

So, you think “Marvin’s Room” is the “player haters anthem” sung only by the ultimate lonely boy?  Actually, that song is the very conversation your girl is having with her homeboy about you right now. Yep, that’s right. Somewhere in the world, your girlfriend’s brother/homeboy/ex-man/father is telling her that she can do better—much better—than you, sir. Despite your best efforts to disguise it, women know that men actually hold women in high-esteem. It’s why you’re annoyed with the dude your home-girl/sister/ex is chillin’ with right now (no one’s good enough for her). In truth, sometime this week you’re going to tell your home-girl, sister or ex-girl that she can do better, too. Maybe she can, maybe she can’t. But the point is, someone thinks so and someone is, in fact, “player hatin’.” It’s the reason why your home-girl calls you at 3am complaining about her man. She wants to hear someone player hate the sh*t out of her current dude. And, you know why she calls you out of her 27 female BFF’s? It’s not because she wants a “male perspective.” It’s because she knows you’re down for some good old-fashioned player hating delivered in the form of perspective. In fact, Adam was using that “I’m just sayin’” line on Eve way before Drake was even born. Genesis.

You can’t stand hearing Drake warn his girl to stop wasting her time with him because he’s focused on his grind right now? Really? Because that seems to be the theme of  most relationships that take place between the ages of 20 and 32. Drake telling an accomplished woman that he’s proud of her is a little too sappy for you? I get it. It’s cooler to tell a woman that you’re proud of her thighs, huge a**, long hair, and light skin. But, that has to get old. Or, maybe it doesn’t. To each his own.

The thing that gets me isn’t so much that men like to deny that they actually relate to this dude—It’s that most of y’all are worse than him. Care Bears. You can’t stand his whining? Yeah…okay. If Drake spent one hour sifting through me and my friends’ inboxes, he’d have enough material to write his next four albums just based off of the dozens of emotional e-mails men like to send when they even think they’re in love and sh*t starts going bad. If he went ahead and added Gchat conversations to the mix, he’d have enough material to last a lifetime. Give him a spy cam to watch over our most personal moments filled with testosterone tears, male sniffles and he-man hissy-fits, he could write enough material for the next seven generations of “emo rappers.”

 Now, I’m not going to sit here and say that Drake is the greatest rapper alive (far from it), but he’s definitely an accurate representation of straight men everywhere. I guess you could say he’s “not a rapper.” That may be true at times, but not because he sings “too damn much.” Rather, Drake’s not a rapper in the traditional sense. Most rap is about smashin’ bad chicks and getting’ racks on racks. Drake, on the other hand, is about consequences. He talks about what happens when you get money to blow too young to make good choices with it. He talks about dating women who’ve been hurt. He talks about being hurt. They’re conversations that men have with their home-girls and the fights you’re having with your girl right now. Maybe men don’t appreciate Drizzy airing out their emotional laundry. Whatever it is, women know what’s up, no matter how much you try to deny it.

Why Conscious People Should Listen to Commercial Rap

“Judging by ‘H.A.M.’ and ‘Otis,’ I honestly can’t think of two rappers more out of touch with their audience. Unemployment is sky high, particularly amongst black youth.”- The Black Youth Project. 

I’m not the most conscious person I know—and I mean the type of consciousness that compels folks to change their name from Bobby to Abubakar.  Shit, far from it. I rock a weave long enough to rival Beyonce’s 9 out of 12 months, I choose to read YBF instead of books written by scholars and people with names I can’t pronounce, and I pretty much spend my time thinking about myself. I even chose to spend my year traveling in Europe and Asia and saved Africa for another time. And, yes, BET does entertain me.

Amidst all of my non-consciousness, however, I love my people. I’ll join in on the struggle when needed. I’ll show up at whatever protest, pass out whoever’s fliers, and phone bank ‘til I’m blue in the face. I don’t say the “N” word in casual conversation and I’m even going to law school to help out the folks who don’t have a voice and help to rectify the structural dynamics that systemically oppress poor and minority people. But, somehow I always blow whatever consciousness I’m showing by committing the ultimate sin truly conscious folks don’t do (at least in public)—I listen to commercial rap. This means that I have to tell people I’m listening to Common, when I’m really listening to anything but him. No, I mean the ratchetess rap. Ever. I listen to enough misogynistic lyrics to convince me that stripping really wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. Right? Law school’s expensive. Hey, Weezy taught me. Sue me.

 Not only do I listen to commercial rap, I don’t trust people who don’t. In fact, if you don’t have a theme song in the key of your favorite rapper, I assume you ain’t ‘bout shxt. I hustle, hustle, hustle, hard.  I want to get money. I go H.A.M…in the struggle. Look at me now, Mama I made it! Sure, we’re in the middle of a recession and rappers could discuss things more closely related to the struggle facing people in the streets, but the recession is an economic condition, not a state of mind. I don’t wake up feeling “recessed.” I wake up grindin’ for myself, my community, my family and whoever else needs me to grind for them. Welcome to the jungle. So, when I read articles like this citing endless facts and figures about how the recession is disproportionately affecting the black community and artists like Jay-Z and Kanye are, consequently, doing a disservice by rhyming about wealth, I don’t get it. Why the hate?

Recession or not, I’m not trying to be broke forever. I done had my share of rice and garlic salt for dinner and…I just don’t want to spend $10 on iTunes to hear about my depressed and broke state on my way to spend $204,000 on my legal education. In fact, when these next 24 courses I take are going to cost me $8,500 each, I want to hear about what I’m going to be. I want to fantasize about yachting in St. Tropez with my equally as successful husband. Yes, the statistics show black folks ain’t got jobs and the educational system sucks, but empowering communities to recognize and work within their oppressed state is one thing—building quality schools, community centers, and bank rolling other vital social services is another. Ask Oprah.

Alas, rappers could (theoretically) spend less time douging, flexing, and crankin’ dat whatever and more time talkin’ about community conditions. However, I refuse to stop listenin’ to folks rap about gettin’ racks on racks on racks because the conscious folks turn their noses up. That doesn’t mean I’d spend my money on bad bxtches and rims, though. Quite the opposite. I’d be sure spread my future opulence to the masses and help to create better situations for others…reach back, if you will. Just watch the throne.

6 Women You Shouldn’t be Having (Casual) Sex With

I always said I wouldn’t write a sex blog, but I’ve been away from Urbane Soul long enough to warrant a comeback post. Over these past few months, I’ve been contemplating the ways a woman’s perception of sex affects her perception of her relationship. Though I’m sure this isn’t a new idea to most guys, I can’t help but wonder what’s going through a man’s head when he sleeps with a certain type of woman. Doesn’t he know that casually sleeping with certain kinds of women can lead to hurt, obsession, crazy, drama and/or plain foolery? This isn’t to say that any of these labels are enough to stop a man from sleeping with a particular type of woman (clearly). It’s really more of a caution signal—something to think of about before you bed one of these six types of women. Guys, take note.

The woman who doesn’t have sex.

So, you met the girl of your dreams. She’s smart, beautiful and has a great sense of humor only Chris Rock could match. The only problem is that she doesn’t have sex. Maybe she’s a virgin, or maybe she just saves her self for that rare romp once every two years. No matter why she doesn’t have sex, all you need to know is that you’re about to ruin this girl’s life if you have sex with her. Nonetheless, the two of you will have sex by the grace of God, you’ll move on to another pretty girl, and she’ll be left crying over a six-week relationship for the next four years. Why? Because she’s altered her lifestyle for you. In “girls-who-don’t-have-sex” world, altering your sexual lifestyle is the equivalent of marrying your high school sweetheart after 20 years of dating (including Kindergarten).  Now, you’ve messed her up, and while you’re out dating and trying to remember how, exactly, you even know this girl, she’s on the phone with her girls talking about you, what happened, and why…SEVENTEEEN YEARS later. Spare us the drama. Please.

The woman who has too much sex.

Some women like sex, and I would never advocate depriving a female who likes sex of sex. At the same time, however, I would always caution a guy not to have relations with this chick because well…she’s probably had sex with someone else you know, too. This is fine if everyone knows what’s going down, is cool with the ensuing ratchetry (and it is ratchet), and wraps it up twice. Unfortunately, there’s always that possibility that you’ll turn a gardening tool into a housewife, and fall for this woman. I’m assuming this would cause an awkward moment when you bring said chick to your best friend’s wedding and introduce her as “The One.”

The woman who wants to wait until marriage, but doesn’t.

Like girl number 1, this chick is going to get wrapped up in you tighter than bacon around asparagus at an obesity barbecue. If you do, in fact, toot it and fail to boot it, you’ll find that your sex life is more pointless than watching Baby Boy for the intimate scenes on BET. Mark my words: She’ll start making up rules and exceptions when it comes to all the non-sex she’s not having with you, and you’ll always get the short end of the celibacy  sex stick. Some weeks, she’ll decide that sex is cool…other times, you can do “stuff,” but not sex. She may even cut the goodies off for good, as she tries to “get back on track.” Don’t forget the guilt you’ll feel when she’s crying in church lamenting her sins.  Nobody wins in this situation.

Your ex girl.

The two of you broke up because her a** was crazy, or you cheated, or you grew apart. Whatever the cause, someone cried and/or punched a wall because of it.  Yet, you see her out, she looks good, you miss her, she misses you and…bam you’re back in the sack for some good ol’ ex sex. While sex with your ex can be emotionless for, like .08 seconds, it’s just sad and angry after that. She starts reminiscing, you start reminiscing, you both tear up and wonder what went wrong. Hey, maybe the two of you can work things out, after all! 10 minutes later, she finds an empty box of condoms under your bed, gets jealous, screams at you, pours bleach and gasoline all over your house (because crazy exes roll with these items regularly) and storms out. Why did you just do that? Because you’re both dumb. Be smart, and stay away. 

The woman who likes you—says she doesn’t—but has sex with you anyways.

Have you ever had a girl you SWORE you were just friends with go crazy on you for no reason? Did you have sex with said girl? Case closed. I can’t even count the number of women I know who find themselves enraged and ready to kill a ninja because she saw him out and he didn’t acknowledge her like the girlfriend that she isn’t is. Sure, she said she didn’t like you “like that,” but she’s willing to have sex with a man she calls her friend—and, therefore shares some kind of bond with—and lets it turn into nothing? Guess again, buddy. Friends don’t let friends have sex with friends.

 The girl who doesn’t care.

Some women really don’t care. They don’t care that they smushed your boy two months back, they don’t care if you call them or not, they barely even care what your name is. While this woman is probably the only woman on this list of messed up women you should be having casual sex with, she’s also the most dangerous. She’s not dangerous because of the emotional drama she’d inevitably put you through if the two of you somehow ended up in a relationship. She’s dangerous because she doesn’t care about anything, including but not limited to: Her life, your life, her relationships, or your relationships. See where I’m going with this? Drama like you couldn’t even imagine. No ma’am.

Bonus- The Woman who Blogs, Tweets and Facebooks too damn much

She’s probably perfect in every other way, but if you mess up bad enough, this socially expressive butterfly will blast you. Every. Chance. She. Gets. With as much detail as possible. Trust me—I know. 

5 Lies Tyler Perry’s Told Lately

I learned something tonight while watching the Mo’Nique show. I learned that Black people hate when other Black people don’t support their work. They call it, “tearing each other down.” On tonight’s show, Tyler Perry responded to Spike Lee’s claims that his filmmaking isn’t exactly groundbreaking material and is one chicken wing shy of the image of Flavor Flav opening a chicken joint. Instead of responding to Lee directly, he cried black-on-black crime using tactics that I haven’t seen since the rise of the Birthers. While Perry has a right to be angry, he ain’t gotta tell lies to make his point—and there were many.

 Tyler Perryism#1: He wishes Spike Lee would just call him and discuss his issues, instead of making his issues public. If only he would do that, he would allow Spike to help him and make him into a better filmmaker (and maybe vice versa). 

I’m not claiming to know what Tyler Perry really wants, but I doubt a phone call from Spike Lee is one of those things. I can imagine Spike putting in a call to Tyler Perry’s studios and having his call passed around more than Basketball Wives in Miami.  Are we really to believe that Tyler Perry would “tone down” his money-makin’ Madea character to be a more acceptable image of a down-south Grandmother? Or, maybe Perry would be open to replacing Mr. Brown with Braxton from the Jaime Foxx show (or another more well-spoken brotha). Spike Lee isn’t criticizing Perry’s directorial style. He’s criticizing his imagery—imagery that’s made him a very, very rich man. So, why he would want that phone call is beyond me.

Tyler Perryism #2: All the mainstream sees is two black men “fighting and tearing each other down.”

Is that all the mainstream sees or is Tyler Perry just playing the victim card in the media (the week his movie is released)? On the Mo’Nique show, Perry used the phrase “tearing me down” more times than I can count.  Of course, his words, “Spike Lee can go to hell” are plastered all over the Internet, as well. If that’s what the mainstream sees, then it’s only because Perry is creating that perception.

Tyler Perryism #3: Black people have a history with tearing each other down. Just look at Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. Dubois; and Zora Neal Hurston and Langston Hughes.

Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. Dubois had fundamental disagreements about how to advance Blacks in the U.S. They had differing ideologies. There’s nothing wrong with that. Same with ZNH and LH. Have we really come to a place where we are so sensitive to intra-racial relations that holding different ideologies is not only looked down upon, but dangerous to the unification of the Black race? Tyler Perry just denigrated the entire foundation of Black scholarly work to a matter of Blacks “tearing each other down.” We should all be offended.

Tyler Perryism #4: Other races don’t “tear each other down.”

Actually, other races do “tear each other down.” They just don’t call it “tearing each other down.” They call it feuding or disagreeing, which is what this is—A feud and/or disagreement about how to portray Blacks in the media. Shit, maybe other races do tear each other down, but they still do it. Latino’s ostracize other Latino’s for not being “Latino” enough. Seriously. Try joining MEChA without speaking Spanish. White women tear each other down on every single show about white women out. Asians call each other “FOBs” if they display one too many characteristics of being from the homeland. If you think this Asian and this Asian ain’t got deeply-rooted cultural beef, you trippin’.  Gay people tear each other down for being too gay or too in the closet, depending on the time of day. Point is, Blacks aren’t alone in their crusade against one another…if that’s what this Perry vs. Lee thing is (which it isn’t. I’m just making a point).

Tyler Perryism #5: Italians didn’t criticize the Sopranos for being stereotypical.

Is he kidding? What rock was he living under in 2001? Plenty of Italians criticized the Sopranos. Plenty. I mean it was headline news, my brother. Today, Italians criticize Jersey Shore. I mean the “tear down the kids of Jersey Shore” and blast them on CNN kind of criticism. 

S.T.F.U. 4 L.U.V.

Relationships are hard. We know that. However, relationships are unnecessarily hard when other people don’t like your relationship. I know this because there is no one I’ve hated more than the slime some of my friends have dated. Yes, slime, because that’s exactly what they are to me. The cheating, lying dude who broke my best friend’s heart five years ago? I’m still trying to have him exiled.

 It’s because of this that I try my very best to keep my mouth shut about whatever it is that’s going on in my relationship. This is a reflection of me wanting us to last. And it’s not that I keep my mouth shut because I’m dating slime, myself (I hope). I keep my mouth shut because saying anything other than, “He makes me feel like I have tiger’s blood and Adonis dna” is the equivalent of saying, “He ain’t sh*t.” No lie. This phenomenon is directly related to the Ain’t Sh*t Detector your closest friends are hardwired with. Your friends’ Ain’t Sh*t Detectors go off whenever you say anything even remotely negative about your significant other. Suddenly, their heart starts racing and their temperature rises. They’re pissed—Pissed at you for dating a human being who’s doing anything less than winning. 

Suddenly, you have a problem. Now, your friends think your man ain’t sh*t because you spent the last 30 minutes ranting to them about how he blew you off for his friends last weekend. Strangely enough, you suddenly can’t stand that your friends don’t support your relationship. And why would they? Sure, you may tell them things are fine if they ASK and things happen to be fine at that moment. But, lets be real—The only time you ever voluntarily mention your significant other’s name to them is to lament how he/she hurt you in some way.  Plus, you just spent the last week sending all these sad ass broken-hearted tweets out to the world and re-tweeting @TheSingleWoman like the New Testament. To really show the world how you felt, you posted the original, the horrible Euro Mix, and the Hip-Hop remix versions of “Deuces” to your Facebook profile…all at once. You even started a blog like this one and used it as a forum to rant about how much pain and anger the only person you’ve ever really, truly loved caused you. But, of course your friends should “support” your relationship. If they were your “real” friends, they’d support that you love this other person. Right? Wrong!

I have a friend who was in a long-distance relationship with some broke dude who allegedly lived in New York. Every time she mentioned his name, it was, “He asked me to wire him 500 dollars for rent, but he’s going to pay me 10,000 dollars as soon as he makes this drug sale.” Or, “His sister called and wants me to bail him out of jail.” Lest we forget the, “This broad came up in my job saying he flew her out to see him in New York. She described what his place looked like perfectly.” I don’t think anyone’s Ain’t Sh*t Detector has ever been hotter. Even when things were going well between them, our Ain’t Sh*t Detectors remained turned up as far as they could go.  Alas, she would look at us with sad puppy dog eyes and say, “You guys don’t know him like I do. I only tell you the bad stuff.” Yes, because the fact that your drug dealing, criminal, cheating boyfriend sent you flowers on your birthday is a real game changer. 

The thing about people’s Ain’t Sh*t Detectors, unfortunately, is that it doesn’t even take a drug dealing, criminal, cheating boyfriend to set them off.  Simply expressing disappointment in or slight hurt caused by the object of your affection is enough to make your friends start singing the lyrics to this song whenever your significant other is within their vicinity.

Furthermore, don’t even think about breaking up and getting back together with someone when you spent the last three months talking sh*t about them to anyone who would listen. In fact, go ahead and prepare yourself for a rousing round of 20 Questions including, “Are you sure you want to do this?” And, my personal favorite, “What makes you think it’s going to be different?” Your friends won’t care that you forgave the one and only person you’ve ever really loved. They won’t even care that your significant other really isn’t all that bad. All your friends really care about is that he made you cry or that she drove you to drink homemade moonshine and smoke powder cocaine a-la Charlie Sheen for five days straight.

Now, it’s awkward because your friends tolerate your significant other, but they really secretly hate them. And, truthfully, it’s all your fault. You ranted about every little thing that person did that annoyed you. You casted that person in a negative light when you divulged details of the fights you two had. Now, you have to defend your relationship because you planted the “ain’t sh*t,” “overly-needy,” “shady broad,” or “womanizer” seed into the garden of friendship.  Now, your relationship is harder than it needed to be all because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.

How Sarah Palin reminded me I want to go to law school

I’ve been away from the blog for a while since the holidays happened and I’ve been trying to wrap up some last minute law school stuff.  If you’ve never applied to law school, just know that the process is never over. This tiny fact that no one likes to tell you is the reason I had begun questioning why I was even going to law school. Would it really be worth the 100k in debt I’m going to incur?  Did I really want to be a lawyer? While I’ve told 20 admissions committees that becoming a lawyer is all I’ve ever wanted and receiving a legal degree from [insert university name here] would fulfill my sole purpose in life, I never fully believed those words. Yet, here I stand deciding what school I will attend in August.

Today, though, my dear friend Sarah Palin reminded me of the impact I wanted to make on my country. It was a 7-minute video she recorded in response to the criticism she and other uber-conservatives have received in wake of the shooting of Congresswoman Gliffords.  In it, she stated that the rhetoric, which liberals have labeled as political “vitriol,” has absolutely nothing to do with inciting the acts of violence Jared Lee Loughner committed.  While that’s a debatable topic, one false statement she made is not: Acts like the shootings in Arizona “begin and end with the criminals who commit them, not collectively with all the citizens of a state.”  She went on to quote Reagan saying that, “It is time to restore the American precept that each individual is accountable for his actions.”

Those words coming from such an influential figure don’t concern me—they scare me. They imply that “influence” isn’t real. As any Christian will tell you, the Devil’s greatest accomplishment was convincing the world that he didn’t exist. Sarah Palin’s words not only deflect responsibility, but carry much greater weight in seeking to convince the American people that she, as an influential figure, doesn’t exist. Sure, she exists as an individual some people like to listen to, watch and read about. The inspiration, action and raw empowerment that she has instilled into millions of tea-baggin’ real Americans, however, have nothing to do with her (according to her). Denying her own influence, essentially, gives her and other influential—albeit reckless—individuals a carte blanche to act and speak as they please (and they will). To disguise this as a matter of personal accountability is, well, ironic. Where’s the accountability when you deny that your own words and actions no longer have meaning or influence?  If accountability is the American percept, then Sarah Palin is just un-American.

Of course, Palin’s message is nothing new or revolutionary to centuries-old debates of innate reason vs. social custom—the old “nature vs. nurture” debate, if you will. Me? I’m a nurture kind of girl. I believe that a Christian child would be a Muslim child if born in another country. I also believe that a Harvard grad would likely be in jail if born in a different neighborhood to a different family.  More importantly, I believe that laws and policies influence people’s attitudes towards one another. Laws against segregation and other forms of discrimination created tolerance in an intolerant society. The “law” didn’t create tolerance, though. It was the law’s influence that led to a more tolerant society because influence is real. It’s the American way. That Sarah Palin influences the political experiences of millions of people also rings true to the American spirit. She knows this. I’d be hard pressed to believe that she didn’t. To claim that people may like her, but are not influenced by her, which only increases her own influence, is just pure genius. Evil, but genius nonetheless.

Today, I stand 8 months from beginning a career that will allow me to influence all facets of American life through work in policy and law. Today, Sarah Palin reminded me that we need people who believe that using influence the right way can change lives for the better. None of this crosshair maps, death to liberals kind of “non-influence” that she likes to practice, though.  Criminal activity may end with the individual, but it surely doesn’t begin there. It begins with the systems and institutions that either foster or fail to prevent criminal activity. As such, the  influence that Sarah Palin denies exists can very well be used to create policies and laws that somehow help people like Jared Lee Lougher be better people in this society. To me, that’s the American precept. It is also the reason I think I just might attend law school. 

 

 

 

 

Training Wheels and Karma

At the end of my third relationship, my boyfriend liked to remind me that our relationship wasn’t a total loss—he was eternally grateful that he had learned lessons he could apply to the next woman in his life.  Because of me, he now “understood” that lying was lethal to a relationship, as were the number of other destructive habits he developed over the years. Because of me, he now understood what it took—“really took”—to maintain a relationship, he would say. Now, this revolutionary concept of trust was nothing to play with. Gee, thanks.

 While I understood what he meant, it was hard not to feel bitter knowing that I spent three years as someone’s training wheels. Like any woman, I’d hope I was his shiny ten-speed.  Alas, that wasn’t the case and I was his life lesson, his raison d’être and the relationship horse from which he fell. Though I’m not sure what to make of this situation, I do know that I don’t want to be anybody’s training wheels ever again. That ain’t cool. At all.

This isn’t to say I didn’t have to learn how to ride before I met my last boyfriend (absolutely no pun intended). I emotionally terrorized boyfriend #2 with my shallow handling of his feelings and general disregard for our relationship. So, I know training wheels, but I also know what happens when you aren’t ready for a relationship—you emotionally terrorize people. You become detached, act reckless with your relationship, allow insecurity to take over, and spew various forms of crazy onto your significant other. What this really says to me, though, is that we wouldn’t need to use training wheels if we were just ready to ride the big shiny ten-speed waiting for us.

Being ready for a relationship isn’t a matter of liking the idea of a relationship. I like the idea of a 2011 Mercedes in my driveway, but it doesn’t mean I can afford it. By “afford” I don’t mean take out a loan that will take 50 years to pay back. I want to pay in cold, hard cash for my Benz. That’s how prepared I want to be to make that purchase. Likewise, while I may like the idea of Lance Gross as my first husband (as long as he stays foine), I want to emotionally afford that relationship. See, the mistake I made with boyfriend #2 was assuming that being in a relationship would force me to be ready for it. It didn’t. Nowhere near it. I took out emotional loan after loan at his expense, thinking that one day I would wake up and be ready to be a girlfriend (because I was learning, of course). Guess what? By the time I had even begun to see that there were lessons to be learned, I’d messed up our relationship so badly that there was nothing left to fix. I’d rode the relationship training wheels thin. So, I broke up with him. He called me some really creative names and moved to another country. True story.

Yes, boyfriend #2 was my set of training wheels, but boyfriend #3 was my karma. I’m only assuming karma, because being training wheels feels like you’re paying for being a kitten killer in a past life. Preparing for a relationship has to take place before you get into the relationship in the same sense that you can’t study for a test while you’re taking it. It’s ass-backwards, and you’ll fail every time. So, while I’m sure boyfriend #3 is out trying to be a better man with the next girl and making use of all those hard-learned lessons, I’ll be getting ready for my next relationship. By ready, I mean stackin’ up my emotional and spiritual paper, because I want to pay cold, hard cash for my relationship. No relationship training wheels, emotional loans and no personal lessons needed. I only hope he’s out there doing the same for me.

Tuesday Laughs

Honestly, the Bed Intruder guy better thank his lucky stars for his ignorance. He’s an international celebrity. Check out this Real-life Glee rendition of the Bed Intruder song…and shout out to the only Black guy in the choir. I see you gettin’ your two-step on!

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