Friday, January 29, 2010

Little Bits: Use What You Got

I had a funny conversation with a male friend at work. We were talking about a familiar coffee shop near our job. One that we frequented during lunch breaks and quick latte runs. One where the staff knew us all for the most part. One that had a sweet little gay girl behind the counter, who gave me free stuff on a regular basis.

His argument: it was wrong of me to flirt with her to get free coffee and sandwiches because I was giving her false hope.

My argument: um, whatever. Nothing taste better than food except free food.

For goodness sakes, I wasn't asking the girl to marry me, I was saying hello and being nice, asking about her day, nothing major. He swore it was all in the way I was asking, as if I really cared, with sweet and sticky dripping from my words.

My position stayed firm. It's the same as when men flirt with women to get whatever it is they're trying to get on that particular day. Everyone has an agenda and unfortunately, we all use others to get there. It's no secret that attractive looks can get you far in this world, our culture falls heavily upon asthetics, so it should be surprising that people who look good get what they want a whole heck of a lot more than those who don't. Sometimes it's the pretty face alone, other times it's that paired with a little sweet and sticky flirting. I am not ashamed to do either. And I find nothing wrong with it. In fact, call me whatever you want, but I stand by using my femininity and good genes to get a couple inches further than the next. You gotta use what you got and I suggest you do too. If you're smart, go with that. If you know you have the gift of gab, can manipulate and form words in a way that make men and women melt? Work it out. I hate to say it but everyone has a price and if you slip a few bills their way-not real money, I sincerely hope you're with me on this analogy- then you can get in there just like the rest of us.

Besides when I check my bank statement and see just how much Starbucks is ripping me for? That lesbian better be happy I'm speaking to her. Free coffee for all.

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

The Blame Game: A Woman Scorned

I'm pissed. No I'm really pissed off. Not nearly as pissed as YaVaughnie Wilkins, though, apparently. In the last week, the world has been shown just how far a woman will go when she is heartbroken, hurt, and angry. Three very very bad emotions to have simultaneously, for when put together, people often do foolish, silly, and dumb things. Actions that have not been fully thought out. Love turns to obsession and we usually wind up making fools of ourselves.

A woman scorned is a funny thing. We set out to retaliate, to get our due by making the object of our once affection pay and pay a lot. Is it smart? At the time, it seems like it. It seems like the very best and most important, immediate way of fixing our pain is to cause you as much as possible. There's a scene in Sex and The City where Samantha, scorned by Richard, passes out neon colored flyers, plasters the city in slander about her ex lover. The look on Samantha's face as she stands on a busy Manhattan street, flyers amidst, is of sheer pleasure. As if embarrassing Richard was the best thing since Lorraina Bobbett. And just like that, she was over him.

But back to reality, which is that once the billboards have gone up and come down, once the hoopla dies off and the shots are fired and dealt with, you are left empty and still alone. Hurting someone who loved you and you once loved is not the way to make the union come back to life. But perhaps that's not what YaVaughnie wanted. Who knows but YaVaughnie. It seems as such with the message on the billboard being, "You'll always be my soulmate." That coupled with the website dedicated to their love doesn't just scream "PLEASE COME BACK TO ME! I LOVE YOU!" but also that Wilkins may have fallen off the wagon a bit.

That said, I won't attack that woman. I won't call her silly or stupid. Yes, her actions are insane and wrong(and I mean actions going all the way back to dating a married man), but that woman is hurt and she's hurt for a very direct and exact reason. I think it's disgusting the way the media has turned her into a crazed, scorned lunatic. Not to mention the comments made on any social networking site out there. While what she's done lines up with crazy lunatic, she was pushed there by someone else and if people don't start bringing up the mistakes behind the actions of Charles Phillips himself, I'm gonna burst. Call it feminism or what you will, but it takes two to tango and Charles and YaVaughnie got to the billboard/website point together. Newsflash, Mr. Phillips, when you take vows, they still mean something to some people. Clearly not you. So here's the thing: when you decide you'd rather carry on a relationship-not a one nighter, not even a few months, but eight and a half YEARS- with someone other than the woman to whom you said, "I do," that makes you a coward and an asshole. Tell your wife you want to separate, get divorced, whatever, but causing all these people pain just so you could get some shows that you weren't thinking with you heart, or your head...or maybe just the wrong one. The truth hurts and it's hard to tell it sometimes, but I sincerely wish you'd resulted to just that.

When you're hurt, it feels like you're suffocating, like someone has stuck a knife in you and turned it clockwise and counter, but ladies, he isn't coming back and he for damn sure won't when you start wearing crazy like it's the new black. Eleanor Roosevelt said, "no one can make you feel inferior without consent." Yes, it sucks what happened, but your reaction is based solely on your own shoulders. Sure you want to retaliate, but I guarantee the best way is to pick up your proverbial shit, get it together, and move on. Nothing says fuck you to your haters like like success and happiness...without them.

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Dodging Cupid's Arrow

We are only as loving as our last relationship and if it burned you, you will put on one of those heat-resistant blankets and head for the Santa Ana winded hills. A fellow blogger laid it all on the line the other night in a Dear Diary section where she discussed her harsh reality and outlook on relationships. How unfair it is.

Welcome to the club, darlin.

Our relationship history packs all of our issues from past unions and folds them nicely in a suitcase called baggage. When you're young, you love unabashedly, wrecklessly, without warrant or fear of heartbreak. Until that first heartbreak and then you're like, whoa. This hurts. A lot. But then someone else comes along and the black and blue heals from your heart just long enough for you to forget the previous pain and love hard once again. But of course, this happens a few times and what have you got? One bruised and beaten heart. Instead, you put up a nice sturdy wall to keep the punching bag untouched. You foray into these relationships where you don't give an inch, don't love fully, hold out and hold it in or worse, don't even care. For the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference and if you don't care, that's when there's a problem. Not caring, especially once you've realized this, is the worst feeling. It's just sad, unfortunate that the things from the past have affected your present and if you're not careful, will radically change your future. There is good news, though. If you simply hate the game for all it's done to you, you're still in good shape. Hate is better than not carring. There's still emotion, still some hope. I suspect the pendulum will swing back and we'll all have hearts for eyeballs again some day.

Love is a battlefield and we can't sit on the sidelines and watch, yes it's safe over there. We don't get beaten and bruised, but it's certainly the best way to ensure that we never get hit by cupid's arrow at all. For all our rough edges and burnt fingers, we still just want to love and be loved in return. Every girl has that skewed vision of a Prince riding in on a valiant steed and despite those who've shown exactly what a Prince is not, the dream still lives on, even if subconscious, it's flickering away like a candle left in the rain too long. So here's to letting go of the past, of not loving like you've never been hurt, but loving selectively, reserving it for those who are truly deserving-an invite only type of party. And if they leave the gig early, burning you once again, brush yourself off and try again.

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins

Monday, January 25, 2010

The Oldest Profession

I was all tucked in last night. The playoffs had just ended and while I was lamenting the inevitable end of my favorite sport's season, I flipped through the channels and was excited to find an episode of How I Met Your Mother. Many of you are familiar with the sitcom that beckons the second coming (but not the same caliber) of Friends. In this particular episode, Barney employs a prostitute to pose as Ted's date in order to make Robin jealous. In the end, Ted actually falls for the prostitute as they find all kinds of wonderful things in common. Right. It doesn't matter if you know the characters in the story either. The blog isn't about that. It's about why you can never date a prostitute or any other versions of the oldest profession.

Discounts and Freebies

You never get them and if you do it isn't because you're special, it's because you're their partner. It's not like the item they're selling is something you'd purchase anyway. For you, it's free regardless. Think about it this way: if your boyfriend worked for the Knicks, you'd happily gobble up all the free court side seats to watch one of the worst basketball teams in the world play. Not everyone gets that kind of treatment. But on the other hand, if you're dating a hooker, escort, stripper, etc, you can bet your bottom dollar that someone else is getting the very same treatment as you. Happy Endings and all.

Occupational Hazards

I think you can guess the most obvious hazards that can come along with this sort of job. STDs and the like, pimps, not to mention finding yourself on Maury Povich trying to figure out if you are 99.9% not the father!

What Will The Neighbors Think Theory

As in what will your friends and family think when you bring home someone who works in "sales." That falls right in line with bringing home someone who works in "pharmaceuticals." There's already enough pressure to mate up with someone with a good job, benefits, and money collecting interest in a savings account. Imagine when everyone finds out what he or she really does. Or when you have a friend over and he's like, "wait a second! I know I know you from somewhere!" There's a reason Richard Gere took Julia Roberts shopping in Pretty Woman. He couldn't parade her around on his arm dressed like a $5 hooker. He had to upgrade her to a high end escort in the very least. And don't even think about lying. The doghouse awaits as she assumes you're ashamed of what your she does for a living. It's what we call a lose/lose situation.


Now, you may be thinking: lose/lose? What is B talking about? You're thinking about the private lap dances in your own bedroom, the amazing sex and fun positions. But think about it a little bit deeper or at least beyond the first couple dates-when the excitement wears off. Whenever you're up in there, giving it your best, the thought will occur to you that she might be faking it. She works that muscle on a regular basis, faking it is almost natural I'm sure. Why would she suddenly be squirting all over the place with you? Oh, yes, because she actually likes you. Ok, sure. That means all the women in the world who like their boyfriends or husbands have never faked it for that very same reason. Hmmm.

New Position, New Position

Whenever something brand new comes into your sexual sessions, you're going to automatically think, "Whodat?" As in who taught her that cause you for damn sure didn't.


Ted actually says, "Call me old fashioned, but this is a deal breaker," when he's referring to his date's career field. I'd say so. Knowing that you're mate is giving out the nookie to any Tom, Dick, or Harry that is swinging his checkbook would, at the very least, be a deal breaker. Actually, the deal wouldn't even be on the table.

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins

Friday, January 22, 2010

Drunken Words...Sober Thoughts?

There is something to be said for a drunken man: his words, while intoxicated, are usually his thoughts while sober. It's no secret, when people get wasted, they start slurring their words, but it isn't how the words come out, more so the actual words themselves that tumble from their liquored lips. Inhibitions are relieved of their duty, walls crumble and everything is all good and all love. Stress is left behind and brought to the forefront is a simple desire to say and do whatever you feel like saying or doing.

It can be revealing in both good and bad ways. When I was younger, my boyfriend got drunk after a football game one night. Everyone was doing the kind of drunk you only get when you're in high school and while everyone was running around hugging each other and claiming to be friends forever, my boyfriend was acting like an asshole. I confronted him, told him I was leaving because embarrassing himself was fine, but me was not. He flipped out, said a bunch of stuff that made me dump him on the following day and I was outta there. He was silly before the alcohol, even more so after it. Alcohol just comes with the high school experience and I figured he'd be an asshole the next time too, so why not save everyone the trouble. Besides if he felt as he said he did while drunk, we didn't need to be together anyway.

But as years go on, it's telling in a different way. A way I find funny and yet a bit scary. I have come to the conclusion that men, who like to pretend to be vaults with their feelings-or have none at all-, let go when the Goose is loose. Just this past New Year's Eve, my ex called and left an incredibly downer message on my voicemail. I was seriously worried about how drunk he was. Add that to the "I'd do anything to get you back's" and the "I love you so much, I miss you like crazies," and I hit save, ready to let him hear it the next day. His reply was that he didn't even remember making the phone call. I guess we were ignoring the fact that this isn't the first time he's left that kind of message (once he left the song Moving Mountains by Usher on my voicemail). It's fine. Embarrassment comes in lots of forms; denial is one of it's favorites.

I've had boyfriends and the like confess their deepest secrets to me while drunk. They've professed their love for me and even repeatedly asked me to confess my love in return. Guy friends who come out the woodwork and say they've always had a thing for me. It's hilarious. But don't think I'm being all high and mighty, I've been there too. Been drunk and free with words that I should keep to myself because they aren't completely thought out, simply not true, or worse: they are as true as the holy grail. Of course, there's a bit of a free pass on the drunk card, because, well, you're drunk and sometimes stuff just comes out, stuff that may or may not be entirely true, but it still makes for a lot of fun and interesting conversation once your sober. Just the other night, the guy I'm seeing showed up wasted from a party. Now I had had a bit to drink myself, but he was obliterated. I was cracking up as he slurred over words, trying to figure out how he got so drunk. Then in a very weird, sobering moment, he grabbed me and said, "B, I love you." It was all I could do not to slap him. Because he doesn't, at least I hope he doesn't. That would be crazy. And totally not in line with my current plan in 2010. So I patted his shoulder and told him just how drunk he was, how we'd laugh about this in the morning. Then I put his ass in the shower and to bed.

You gotta be careful what you let out the cage when you've been drinking. You can't always blame it on the alcohol. In the morning, when we relived the previous evening, he was all smiles until I quoted him. Suddenly he was real quiet, completely out of all the words he'd had earlier. So, just incase we have a bigger problem on our hands, I told him not to quit drinking, but do it without me from now on.

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Ask B.

Dear B,

This is probably gonna set you off considering some of your blog posts, but I'm coming to you with my hat in hand. I hate giving head. Hate it. And when I do it, it's just bad. I usually let guys know before that I hate it and I won't even think about doing it until several dates have passed. I actually don't like to go down there unless he's gone down on me several times prior. It's so intimate, not to mention gross. I just hate it. Help?


No Knob Slob

Dear NKS (love the signature btw),

You aren't alone, babe. There is an alarming number of women who feel exactly as you do. I can't say I know where it comes from, but I can sort of understand it. I am going to say this though, if you aren't doing it, someone else probably is. That said, that is absolutely not the reason you should decide to do it-to keep a man. You should do it because you want to please your partner, give him just as much enjoyment as he's given you (several times!?). Now, you're right. It is an intimate act, but you're allowing him to do the parallel on you. So if you're asking him to go downtown, you gotta hop on the train and go with him at some point. I'm all about getting yours, but that's only going to last but so long and quite honestly, it's kind of rude. You cannot expect him to do for you and then leave him completely hanging. It isn't very gracious to say the least. And you mentioned gross. Gross? Have you ever gone down on a girl? Right.

Many men consider head a must, a major turn on and an even bigger one? A woman who whistles happily while she works. The girl who goes down with a mission and makes the game fun is the girl who wins when it comes to head. I've written about tips in earlier posts, but I also advise you to do a few things: One, start off with someone you're familiar with, someone who won't judge and will guide you. Let him know (nicely!) that you haven't always been open to the act, but want to do it for him. Say you want to please him and ask him what he likes. He knows, trust me, and if he's cool, he'll tell you. Two, ask a gay man. They both get them and give them; usually very well. A good gay friend gave me a quick run down a long time ago and my head game was forever changed.

Hate is such a strong word. Try not to use it...especially to him. It isn't positive and if you're stating up front that you despise it, I can only guess how much he's going to look forward to dealing with you and your head. A little positivity will go a long way. Think of ways that appeal to you to get yourself into the game. I'm a competitive person, I want to be the best at everything, so I look at it like a game that I must win. I'm also a huge control freak so talk about being in ultimate control here. You literally have his most prized possession at your utter command. I guarantee, the first time you see him go crazy with ecstasy, the first time he sits up and looks at you like, "wtf?!" (in a good way) or you see your first toe curl, that hate will turn to love. Cause you caused it and that power is something to behold. So, get on your knee's girl and turn his frown upside down!


Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Relationship Hierarchy-Chick Style

It's 5:30 in the morning. Don't ask what I'm doing up at this hour. No, really don't. I'm surfing the net, checking in on blogs I love, one of which happens to be Naked With Socks On. A lot of people love this blog and deservingly so. When you add up the sum of wit, relevancy, honesty, and good writing, you get an excellent product.

I just read The Relationship Hierarchy on the site, which isn't actually by the writer, but was good nonetheless. Women love to get inside the mind of a man, crave it as if it'll somehow help them land their dream boat. There were many who loved the female categories men whittled us into, some that found it sickening (although I'm not entirely sure why). I wasn't surprised by the long and detailed list. Women have somehow confused a man's facade with his actual inner workings. Ladies, they are more guarded with their feelings, but it doesn't mean they don't have any at all. Unless you truly don't warrant any. I have a lot of male friends and I've come to learn that they talk just as much, if not more, and have all kinds of rules and regulations (as do many women). But back to this list. It got me thinking about how women categorize men. There are different women out there-some who try to put on the suits of gusto, but fall prey to the first dude saying sweet nothings. Then there are women who truly know the game and don't wear their heart on their sleeves. So the categories differ. For the first group, there may be only one or two categories- the guys they date, the guys they marry. But in reality, women have just as many categories, just as many specificities as men. So without further adieu:

Husband- goes without saying. This is the man you will hold down pretty much no matter what. At the end of each day, he is the one you've pledged to before God that you will love until your dying day. I don't take marriage lightly and I've spoken about my issues with it a bit. This is thee guy. The ONE who you know it's gonna be from now until forever. Long time? Hell yea, so choose and be chosen wisely.

Man- We've all heard ladies give their boyfriend the title of "my man." It's the adult version of the boyfriend, a title which sounds like it only belongs in schoolyards. So man is the graduation of the term. A woman's man is someone she's been with for a long period of time, see's a future with, has met family, washes his dirty draws, cooks for him regularly, and has probably seen cry. It's serious and a champ ring is definitely on the horizon if all goes well.

Boyfriend- The lesser, earlier, preceding version of the Man. He's your boyfriend. I don't know how else to say it, but the connotation on the word says it all. You've been dating pretty seriously, have decided to abandon all other "situations," maybe you are spending certain holidays together. You talk several times a day, every day. You're still in the earlier parts of a relationship though. Maybe you haven't seen him pee with the door open yet.

Boo- I hate this term. A lot. It just sounds silly, but I must use it because it defines this next category to a T. You're dating, there are probably other's, but this guy is in the lead. He gets the majority of your time, attention, etc. There are no clear titles on this one...yet. There's several dates per week, sleepovers are more or less regular. This is the dating phase (even though there are some women who think this is the boyfriend phase). You're getting to know each other still, but what you know already is intriguing enough to keep things going, but you aren't dumb. There is still a squad on the bench just incase.

The New Guy- This is the guy whom you've been out with a handful of times. He's saying and doing the right things. You're feeling him. The New Guy is just that-the new guy in your life. It isn't serious, but it feels like more than some dude or guy you're talking to. It could be fun. By the way, many women confuse this category with something more serious. Just because he's the new guy in your life doesn't mean he's thee guy in your life. Take your time. Be patient. What's the rush?

This dude, guy or other general terms- Let me use it in a sentence so you can understand this one a bit more. Friend: "Girl, you're phone is like Kirstie Alley-blowin' up. Who's on the other end?" You: "This dude I'm talking to. That's it. Just some dude. May not even have a name worthy of speaking aloud after all, you're not sure of what he will be. Numbers were just exchanged, prelim conversations have been happening, fun texts every few days, whatever. It's the absolute beginning. Smart chicks do not even remotely begin to attach themselves to this guy.

The Jump- Sorry, guys, women have them too. I was actually (surprisingly) asked on Twitter the other day if women really only wanted men for sex at times. Um, yes. The long and short of it is that women have huge libidos, we're often the last one's standing, ahem, but because men think of sex every seven seconds or something and because the majority of them are skilled at detaching feelings from the act, women are given the short end of the stick. Make no mistake, even the sweetest of the sweet has had a guy that she calls on because he's a sure thing. No matter how she sugar coats it-with dates here and there-she wants you because of what's in your pants, not your heart. The jump is the guy that gets no love in the club so to speak. He hasn't seen you in the light of day and you don't talk...ever. No phone calls except to set up the deed. You might not know a whole heck of a lot about him, but what you do know counts and that's really what matters in this situation.

There's one more: Friend and we all know what happens when you're banished to Siberia: the FriEND Zone.

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Love in Social Media Times

There used to be a time when you could break up with someone, cut ties, and perform a little eternal sunshine of the spotless mind as you forced yourself to forget them, erase them from your memory.

Not anymore.

Gone are the days of simply deleting their phone number or reassigning it with the title of, "do not answer." You can no longer just hide out and skip a few parties where you may have unwanted "run-in's." It isn't just about common social circles, no, that's old school because now the world has been taken over by social media and networking sites. In the days that preceded Facebook, Twitter, and Myspace, you didn't have to worry about finding out "what they're doing" based on a status update or see pics of a recent night out with the girls via a twitpic. It all just clouds the process of moving on. Instead, you not only have to break up in real life, but you have to delete profiles, de-friend people, and of course, unfollow.

And that's not all. Now there's g-chat, AIM, yahoo messenger, and all the other numerous ways you've used to get in touch that must now be sliced and diced. Not to mention, Blackberry Messenger for all you BB users. It's just too much. We live in a world where there is absolute open access to any and everyone. You meet someone and instead of exchanging numbers, people now ask for your Facebook or if you're on Twitter. And then they get upset when you aren't linked in by updating every thirty-six seconds. How about just call me if you want to know what I'm doing?

My best friend, Maria, refuses to get on any of the social networking sights. Re-fuses. I always laugh and call her an old lady, but there's some merit in it. Why does anyone A) need to know what I'm doing at all hours, B) care? But there are people who chronically update, "I'm grabbing a beer with the guys." "I'm clipping my toe nails." "I'm about to get it in." "This party is the best." My personal thought is if you're tweeting or Facebooking it, it probably isn't that great, otherwise you wouldn't stop all the fun to let us all know. Not to mention, why do you want everyone all up in your business? Why live your life on the internet? But I digress...

It's cute and fun in the beginning. You tweet stuff to each other while sitting sitting on the same couch or write messages on G-chat when you're actually speaking on the phone. You find yourself having conversations on instant messenger all day, and yeah, it's fine. You're both at work, so that's the only way to get in touch. And it's just. so. cute. But be careful. Seriously, because if it ends, remember you have to break up with them repeatedly as you go to all your social sites and delete them. But you aren't done yet. Now you must block them on all your instant messengers, erase their PIN from your blackberry, snatch their name off your iChat, delete them from your blog roll, and so forth...and so on. A good friend of mine actually deleted her entire FB profile because she just couldn't stand to be on there anymore. Another checked his account for an entire year after they broke up. One friend went ballistic when he saw that his ex had just gone to the movies with a guy, via her status update. I say it again. It's just too much. Besides people lie on the internet anyway, so why bother getting to know them there.

I recently met someone and the only thing we exchanged were digits. I'm sure he's on every social networking site and instant messenger service under the blue sky, but he doesn't need access to me like that nor do I to him. Instead he shoots me a text when he wants me to know "what he's doing" or even better, he does that thing they used to do in the Ice Age: picks up the phone and calls me.

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Here's a Factie! xoxo Blackie

Did you know...

85% of men who die of heartattacks during intercourse, are found to have been cheating on their wives?

What's that saying?
Oh, yeah:
"Karma's a bitch."

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

From Girlfriend to Girl Friend

You were his girl, now he wants you to be his friend. Actually, he's convinced you that hanging out, sans commitment, is the next best thing. That it's anything other than him having his cake and eating it too. But who has a cake in front of them and doesn't eat at least some of it? What purpose does that serve to let good red velvet go to waste, right? Don't grab that fork yet.

Here's the thing, if you weren't friends before, why would you be after? Perhaps the thing we miss most about a failed relationship is the friend aspect. He wasn't just your boyfriend, nor were you just his girlfriend. You were each other's BFF as well. You told each other good and bad news first, saw every new release, ate countless meals together, not to mention abandoned your other friends, creating your own inner circle fit for the two of you. So when it all, it all falls down, you were suddenly left with a double loss: the romantic and the best chum.

But you cannot go his first mate to his best mate easily. You cannot break up on Thursday and head to the movies as his friend on Friday. I understand you don't want to lose him, but clinging onto something that is drastically different-becoming the friend that happens to be a girl when you were once his girlfriend-is just too much too soon.

The guy I recently stopped dating invited me over several weeks ago. I had every intention of hanging out as usual because perhaps what I adored most about us was our easy friendship, how we got along effortlessly, but boy oh boy was I mistaken. When I arrived, it was odd. The flip to friends, which was unknown territory considering we'd never been such, was drastic as an understatement. After the initial kiss and hug, I felt like his homegirl. There seemed to be a giant elephant in the room, one that tauntingly tooted its horn at us, as we tried to readjust to this new world order. Then later as we curled up in bed, why I stayed I have no idea (hope perhaps?), not doing anything we'd done in the past, I thought, "This is stupid. This is what it means to have your cake and it eat it too and I'm not hungry."

In the weeks that followed, I would tell him that friendship was not for us, miss him incredibly, but hold fast to the "no friends" rule. My sanity is more important and when you try to jump to friends too fast, it's mass confusion with a side of constant discomfort. You're forcing out strong emotions, romantic ones, and trying to replace them with those that are platonic. Without realizing it, you expect things from the past and when those great expectations fall flat, you start to not only dislike the situation, but lose respect for the relationship that once was. It's a world full of newfound blurriness and rules that you aren't privy to as you were once his only girl friend. When you are living in a very black and white world-we're together, then we're not-it's very clear. When you step in between and enter grey land, it takes time to navigate that arena. I'm convinced it can't happen immediately unless you started off that way.

Leave well enough alone, break ties, maybe you can come back in the future as his friend...that happens to be the one that got away;)

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins

Monday, January 11, 2010

The Girlfriend Series: Best You Ever Had

*Note: This week, I decided to do a little blogging on the topic of girlfriends. Being one isn't easy for everyone apparently and dealing with them has proven to be hard for many men. Enjoy! The first installment is a tongue in cheek piece about why I'm the best girlfriend. *

I am an amazing girlfriend. There. I've said it. And I say it without any hesitation or hint of arrogance. Because I've been told it and because its true. If you can't toot your own horn, why bother? Being your own biggest fan is sexy no matter which year, so claim your's and make your own list. Here's my top ten (in no particular order):

1. I actually have no desire to be your girlfriend. -When I meet a guy, the last thing on my mind is being committed to you. If you're around long enough, I may break that rule and envision you beyond the weekend, but for the most part, I program myself to stay in the moment. To say, "its fun, so we'll keep at it, but when it stops being that, I'm out. No strings." But once I'm yours, and I trust you, I'm loyal. I'm passionate and giving, I present a challenge but notjing you can't handle.

2. I'm a guys girl. I love football, more than some of my ex's actually. I don't just like watching men run around in tights either. I've been watching since my dad tried to force me into being a Steelers fan when I was 5. (It didn't work-go EAGLES!) I know about screens and blitzes. Passer and qb ratings. I live for sundays and mondays from august until February. And I watch the draft. I toss back beer on a regular basis, curse like a sailor, talk shit like crazy. But make no mistake, I wear dresses and make up too. I do my hair and act girly when it suits me. I'm your chick and I act like one, but I'll be the last to turn off the game or tell you to mind your manners.

3. I don't go crazy over sex. In the beginning, I don't do the weird rule of waiting 90 days. I've made it clear that I like doing the do and if I feel like it, I do. If I don't, I don't. I have so many guy friends who've schooled me on the waiting game. Trust me, there's no point in waiting. But I guess if you are making him wait, there's a point to you and I cast no judgement.

4. Three leads me to this: I'm dynamite in the sack. That's all I'll say. Ask about me.

5. I don't nag. I don't beg for your time. I don't do anything but ask for your respect-the same I give you. If we don't have that, we'll have a discussion. I don't fight and scream. I don't say sh*t I can't take back. I'm not the girl who will hold onto your leg while you walk out the door each week. We won't have big dramatic fights every other day. I've been there and the person who brought that out in me is no longer with us...for a reason.

6. I've had lots of boyfriends and I've only been broken up with twice. I gotta good record.

7. I am okay by myself, so while I want you and love having you around, I don't NEED you. There's a difference. And you shouldn't NEED me either honestly. It's a balance game.

8. I'm pretty (and arrogant apparently). So when you're walking down the street with me or introducing me to your boys, you'll be proud. They won't say, "well, er, she's sweet!". They'll dap you up and tell you that you did good.

9. Parents love me. In fact, two of my ex's moms still call me to see how I'm doing. Actually quite a few of my ex's do too.

10. I'm funny. I've said a million times over that what I'm most attracted to-outside of tats-is a man who makes me laugh. And that's because I love laughter, I love joking around, sarcasm and wit are two of my favorite things in the world. How can I demand that and not dose it out myself. That last guy I dated told me I was the funniest girl he ever dated and I felt the same about him, which may be why it worked.

*Honorable mention-I'm smart. We can talk about pop culture or health care reform. Just don't ask me to perform mathematics because I totally used my graphic calculator to cheat in high school.

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins

Friday, January 8, 2010


The rebound is a tricky thing. They are literally the person who comes next. We all love using the phrase on to the next" these days, but the next one has a hefty order to fill. It's like going to a restaurant and ordering a dish that you grandmother makes just right. You hunker down and take a bite and say, "It's ok, but it ain't grandma's." That restaurant item didn't even have a chance. It came behind something great. Something more or less untouchable-for the moment. It's the same with a rebound. They have no chance, and if they do it's minimal and they'd have to essentially knock your socks off.

That being said, a rebound is absolutely the best way to get over someone. This is probably not the smartest advice, but it's real. Moving on from someone is hard, no doubt, but the road back to your usual self is a little bit brighter when you've got a little something new to play with. But beware, the rebound is not for the faint at heart. I had a friend who got dumped, ran back to his old bar hopping habits and immediately met a girl one night. He took her home and then proceeded to cry through the ordeal. He said it wasn't her and he wanted her back. Right. Definitely not how he needed to proceed.

Rebounding is a transition of sorts. A fast one at that. You have to switch gears from being in something secure and consistent to the exact opposite. As I said, if this ain't your bag, don't do it. Work it out on your own, but hanging with someone new definitely pads the cell a bit. It's fun to be back to the beginning. It's fun to enjoy the new. Find out the things that make them tick, make them laugh, make them, well, them.

But at the same time, it's sad too. Sad because, in the beginning at least, you're reminded on a regular basis that you are with someone else. You compare them without realizing it, even though the new guy is putting in work and you, surprisingly, enjoy it. You forget in darker moments, and think it's him you're in bed with, but it isn't. It's the rebound. And you constantly remind yourself that this is a means of getting over him. Of moving on, sanity intact.

There's something very final about moving on to the new guy or girl. Of course, you never know what the future holds, but for the present, it is, in fact, on to the next. I guess the question isn't so much as whether or not rebounding is good or bad, but how you go on to the next when you can't forget the last? Well, we've discussed that already. All in due time, kids, all in due time. Until then, hop up there and grab that rebound.

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins