Friday, October 29, 2010

Friday's Question of the Day

Can you ever truly date someone a friend slept with and/or dated? In essence, someone who "smashed the homie?" Why or why not? Can people get passed that sort of obstacle?

That bitch stole my line,

Blackie Collins
Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Dude Sit Down: How'd I Do?

I never quite understand why men like to delight in their sexual prowess but for some reason, they totally do. They want to know how it went, how it felt, what they did that you loved, how many times you climaxed, if you would in fact put them in the Guinness Book of World Records for best sexual prowess. Sometimes I feel like they want a literal play by play, the highlights reel, or they come completely unhinged, which just seems altogether weird to me. I don't ask them how great I was, but then again, I don't have the weight of our sexual experience riding on my shoulders, which is an incredibly dramatic statement, but you get my drift. I also don't ask because I know what I'm like in bed and I'd rather the compliments be volunteered versus asked for, but whatever. Moving right along. So, I recently had someone ask me "how he did?" It was thrown in in such a nonchalant way-like months after the fact too (I am still Keeping Up with The Abstinence, although I have no idea how long the season will last-probably gonna get cancelled). I was totally caught off guard. It went like this:

Him: So yea, I told my sister about that new west nile virus exhibit at the American Museum of Natural History and she really wants to go. I figured we could all go together.
Me: Sounds good. We should bring insect repellent though, just in case some of the mosquitoes are staking the joint, waiting to get us.
Him: True. I'll buy some OFF. Oh, speaking of getting off, how'd I do in bed?
Me: ???????????????????

That's exactly how it happened too. And I was at a total loss for words. A) I could barely remember, it was forever ago. 2) Who asks that? Thirdly, what was I supposed to say? It wasn't even in the context. I can sort of deal with the dumb question right after the actual act, maybe the next morning, but a couple months after? Get. A. Life.

So I said: You did well enough that I'd do it again.

Apparently, this comment was not to his liking at all. In fact he said it wasn't a glowing compliment but he'd take it, he guessed. Then he copped an attitude and said bye! Cue Beyonce's Ego like right now. What exactly was he expecting me to say? Sweet JEEESSUS, I have been thinking about how great you are in bed since that night and I have been waiting for you ask me that asinine question because I wrote a list with 122 items, in alphabetical order, and a Power Point presentation with 16 pages of bulleted reasons why you're the best I ever had!!??


I insist my answer wasn't a foible, but in the event it was, here are my top three picks for better responses to help prevent future dumb predicaments like this one:

1. You were amazing.
2. You were amazing.
3. You were amazing.

That bitch stole my line,

Blackie Collins

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Welcome to the Boring Life

I'm so tired. I've been dating for over twelve years and damnit, I'm tired. Well that's not entirely true, because during some of those twelve years, I was in relationships, but those were tiresome too, so it remains the same. I'm tired. I feel like Charlotte on Sex and the City. I'm just over dating. I'm watching all these people getting engaged and married and, no, I'm not thinking, "When will it be my turn?!" Nope, you know B better than that. Instead, I'm just like, "I think I give up."

I've told you all that I'm on abstention mode. Well, I touched on it, but let me elaborate. I love me some hims and it's too easy for me to get distracted from what I need to be doing because of a guy. I don't turn my life over to them, but I definitely think about them way more than I should and I have an uncanny ability to refrain from saying no to them. It's a bad habit. I'm trying to break it by not dealing with boys at all. And if I do, it's in such a strict-arms-length-way, I doubt anyone will feel like bothering, hell I barely feel like it. Yes, I went on a date on Monday, but that's small potatoes compared to all the dudes I've written off in the last two weeks. That's been tiring too! But I really want a fresh start. I had a few icky situations going on in the last couple months and they all led me to the point of cleaning house. So, the house is clean and guess what? I'm bored! In some ways, I've totally become used to the drama that men bring in your life. They swear it's us, but I insist, they have more drama than Broadway. It seems enticing when you're in it, the drama, but once it's over and all is quiet, you're like, "what the hell? That was about as fun as diving into a mosquito nest wearing a pair of sugar panties."

In some ways, it's sad. I'm being very honest, I definitely feel the lonesomeness set in and this is coming from a person who loves dining alone, taking in a movie sans partner, or doing other activities by herself. I've always been that way, okay in my own company, but as I've gotten older and damnit, everyone getting paired off, I've started to wonder about my settling down, if I'll settle down, when I'll settle down, will I settle down? And it's all making my brain hurt...and my heart too.

I give a lot to people, I always have. I remember my mother warning me to be careful with my heart because I liked wearing it on my sleeve. I've tried to heed her warning, but I don't think I've done such a good job of it when it comes to giving myself to others. I give my time, I give emotion, I give passion, I give everything but money, and that's only because I barely have any myself, but if I did, I probably would. And a lot of times, you give to people and they just take it and you get used to it. You say, "I'd rather still have a good heart even if people trample it." But then you get smart and you shield yourself just a bit, you don't believe in people until they show you who they really are, or you just stop trying altogether, which might be where B is right now. I just don't feel like it anymore. Of course, I like being in love and of course I enjoy having a boy around, but I'm not sure that's enough to counter all the bullsh*t that comes with it. The games, the phone rules, the dating, the getting to know you, the realizing you're a douchebag, the moving on, the having a hard time moving on, the missing them, the starting over, the repeat cycle. I just don't have it in me. That's also why the blog has been suffering, I'm just interested in dating right now. I could tell some old stories, sure, but most of my antics are of clear and present dating, but I will be pushing through, blogging about the perils of missing boys and fighting my urge to ignore the voice saying Take care of you, please! This may be incredibly boring for you, but it actually might be eye-opening, at the very least for me, which is sort of all that matters being that it's my blog, so there. I might also say eff it and meet a boy today. We'll see, we'll see.

That bitch stole my line,

Blackie Collins

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Dating is Blind

Last Friday, I posted the question of the day about blind dates. Of course, my questions are sometimes out of nowhere and me just being curious or nosey, but sometimes they are based on my own personal situations. I had been summoned by a good friend to go on a blind date with a guy friend of hers. This particular friend, Susan, is one of my most fun friends I have. She's quirky and crazy and insanely a blast to be with. I think she feels the same way about me and our wild nights are always the best. BUT when Susan said she wanted to hook me up, my first thought was this guy had to be equally crazy and one thing I'm desperately trying to abstain from in my life is craziness. In fact, I have done a major 180 and have abstained period for almost a month. Do not laugh at me. That's a long time, sadly. Anyway, Susan thinks this is the best idea she's had since 2002, which is okay because works for a hedge fund and I bet her ideas get pretty boring. Far be it for me to stunt her imagination, so I asked her a few questions about said friend. I didn't say yes, but she took the questions as a confirmation that I was going on the date, which I wasn't sure I wasn't, but also knew I probably would. I figured, if anything, it'll be fodder for the blog. We all know I've barely had anything to say lately, probably because I'm abstaining, which means I'm sitting at home watching dust settle (on my vagina).

Susan described him in language she knew would make me stop pussy-footing around and just say yes to the date. He's about 6'3, dark skin, loads of tattoos, plays basketball, dark hair, really nice guy. I blacked out after loads of tattoos, honestly. I was sooo in, but I asked more questions. What did he do for a living? Where did he live? Was he married (you have to ask these things because so many are okay with it if you are)? Where'd he go to school? On the last question, Susan hemmed and hawed before announcing that he went to school with me! I instantly recoiled, renigged, indian-gave, whatever. I'm not going. I probably know this dude. No, negative, sorry tattoos, I'm out. Last I need is a blind date with someone who I've SEEN before, which kind of negates the whole point. And what if it's terrible, as many people say blind dates are, and then I have to see him at Homecomings or mutual friended parties. Nope. That's a set up for a lifetime of awkward and I can provide that on my own, thank you. Susan pressed on, stressing that I probably didn't know him at all, and I should just buck up and go. I told her I'd think about it, which was synonymous with when you'd ask your parents if you could please please please get that pony from Jessica's birthday party last weekend and they said they'd think about it.

A day later, the ever persistent Susan, called and asked what time I wanted to meet for my date. I told her I'd never said yes, which she ignored and said, "You know you're going to go so just stop the act." I thought about it for a little bit and decided she was right. It could be a huge laugh and a great story for the blog. I love using the blog to blame for my shenanigans. So, 9 o'clock at night, the following evening, I was going out with Rob.

We met at a popular sports bar, which turned out to be the smartest thing considering how into sports I am. It ended up being a huge topic of conversation. Susan told Rob what I'd be wearing, a pair of black boots, a new pair of black suede, high end, peep toe, platform heeled boots to be specific-they're amazing-so when a deep voice said over my shoulder, "Nice boots." I knew when I turned around I'd be in for a huge cringe or a big laugh. I whirled around, and there stood Rob. Rob, who I'd made out with sophomore year at a drunkard frat party, but never really spoke to again. Rob, reached out to shake my hand and introduced himself. I almost choked, but somehow managed to giggle girlishly and say my own name to which Rob laughed and said, "I know, come on." So, we realized we knew each other, great, and it didn't seem weird. We laughed about Susan's idea of a "blind date," and found a spot to sit and watch some Monday night football.

The conversation was effortless, we knew a lot of the same people, we talked about what we'd both been up to since our make out and graduation, and generally had a good time. There were flags in the conversation that eluded to more time spent together, and I felt really nice with all his compliments on my pretty skin, gorgeous legs, etc. I could get used to that for real. We shut the bar down and when our server meandered by for the seventh time, we knew it was time to put him out of his misery and leave. He walked me to my car, opened my door, said he'd had a great time, we should do it again, hugged me and went to hop in his ride: black, rimmed out, dope Charger. Damnit. A nice thug. Exactly what I need right now.

The next day, I purposely didn't call Susan. I knew she'd been sitting by her phone salivating, waiting for our report, so when she finally called around lunch, I wasn't shocked by her exasperated, "OMG, what happened? How was it? Start from the beginning!" I gave her a brief rundown. Told her I thought he was nice, I didn't have crazy butterflies, but it was a solid first date and if he called, I'd go out with him again. I could live with butterflies for a while, they make you sick anyway. Susan was thoroughly excited, but I made her swear she wouldn't divulge my thoughts on him to Rob. She said she wouldn't. A few hours later, she hit me again saying, "Rob said he really liked you. I gave him your number. He wants to hang out again."

I'm not terribly shocked. After all, I'm an attractive girl with pretty hair, I drink beer, love sports, am articulate, and crack people up. Why am I not married again? Oh, right, because I said no. So, anyway, Rob has my number and now comes the fun parts: waiting for him to call and staying abstinent while in the company of all those tattoos once he does.

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins

Friday, October 15, 2010

Friday's Question of the Day?

The ongoing debate continues here...

Spit or swallow? (Insert groans)

Have at it, kids.

Sent via BlackBerry by AT&T

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

The Home Team

Ok, first I have to apologize for the lack of posting again. A combination of writer's block and life have made me the worst blogger in America. There. We're done. Moving on to today's post...

It's fall, baby, and that means boo up season is beginning. Summer has been fun, but it's time to whittle down to the final few who will make the cut into fall and the one who will keep you warm through winter. Yep, It's dating season. Of course B is here to make sure all your I's are dotted and T's are crossed. I've learned every woman should employ a group of men when she's dating. This group of men is called The Team. No, B isn't suggesting you cheat on your man-this is for when you're uncommitted. No, B isn't suggesting you sleep with your entire team-that's some heaux sh!t, but don't worry, you'll be satisfied in every way as every guy on your team provides a service. While extreme descriptions, the list remains. Here's who you should pick when it's time for the draft.

The Romantic. This is the guy who wines and dines you. He's probably the first seed, top spot, dude you're rooting for the hardest. He's the captain of your team. He will probably end up being your boyfriend. The Romantic is the one you go out with the most, curl up and watch a movie with on occasion, and kiss in public. When people say, "Are you seeing anyone?" You say his name lightly, knowing it could very well be heavy if all cards are played correctly.
Pro: All the aforementioned. Most likely to succeed as winter item.
Con: Make this selection with care...he'll be around for a minute.

The Maintenance Man. Ok, we all know his job. He's the plumber. If you don't get that, we've got other problems to tend to.
Pro: He, um, maintains you.
Con: See Jump off posts. Careful with this one!

The Thug. So, maybe not everyone needs a Thug, but B does;) We can also call him the bad boy. Every thug needs a lady and every lady needs that bad boy in her life. You let him post up on your couch, blunt in hand, loud Rick Ross playing on the stereo, while you braid his hair or something. It isn't going anywhere permanent, but it sure is fun. Oh, sometimes the thug can double as the Maintenance Man...actually, he should. #biased
Pro: Muscles and tats are your friends.
Con: Bad boys are called that for a reason. Try not to get attached, they break hearts.

The Gay. The Gay is the only character on the team who isn't used for romantic purposes. He's the one you go shopping with, the one you gossip with, the one you brunch with. He's the one who fills the girlfriend position so your dudes don't have to find themselves sitting on a couch in Bloomingdale's watching you try on endless little black dresses which all. look. the. same.
Pro: B loves the gays!
Con: B loves the gays!

The Intellect/Renaissance/Earthy Man. This is the guy you go to museums, art exhibits, Talib Kwali concerts, poetry readings with. Maybe he has dreads too and wears those nerdy glasses. You talk endlessly in coffee shops about the poverty rate in America and how you too can be a Vegan in three easy steps. The next date will include handcuffing yourselves to a tree he used to climb when he was 9.
Pro: IRE man helps you stay cultured and opens your eyes to different parts of life.
Con: You'll miss animal products, trust me.

The Baller. Few have this guy, but he's great if you got him. He's the dude who flies you out to meet him wherever he is. The guy who showers you with gifts, drives a dope ride, and wear tailored suits ala the men in Takers. The baller can range from some finance type with a big bank account to the athlete who adds you to the payroll.
Pro: The inside of a Mercedes SL500 is pretty nifty and you'll feel crazy awesome stepping out with a fine dude to boot.
Con: When you go back to slummin it, you'll miss it badly.

What about guys? Who's on your team?

That bitch stole my line,

Blackie Collins

Friday, October 8, 2010

TGIF: Question of the Day

Thank goooddnesss it's Friday! Writer's block continued this week, but here's your question of the day:

Would you ever go on a blind date? Have you? Was it terrible or are you about to celebrate your 90th anniversary and birth your sixth child?

That bitch stole my line,

Blackie Collins

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Sexytime Relationships

Chris Brown said it best: Three in the morning, you know I'm horny. So why don't you come over my place and put a smile on my face..." Oh, the late night booty call. Fun times, or disastrous if you don't know how to navigate this tricky relationship. I've talked about jump off relationships before, but I've done some more research since then and since it's an ongoing debate for many...Here's my little list of managerial duties for the sex only relationship:

1. NO SLEEPOVERS. Cuddling and spooning into the night are for boyfriends and girlfriends, not for jump offs. JOs do not serve that purpose and I promise you, if you are sleeping with someone and then SLEEPING with someone for months on end, someone will definitely catch feelings like pneumonia.

2. RULES. Make the rules and stick to them. If you two don't kiss because it's too intimate, don't kiss. Don't get all drunk and start slobbering each other down. Some people can kiss and keep it breezy, some cannot. Know which camp you're in, pitch a tent, and stay put.

3. MINIMAL TALKING. This sounds harsh, I know, and I don't mean you can't talk to each other at all, but keep the topics surface. I don't come over to hear about how you quit your job and you're stressed or how your father who bounced when you were little is back and driving you crazy and you don't know what to do. How about we talk about the last movie we saw or how great the weather's been instead. Getting to know each other too much starts to lead to wanting to know each other too much and confuses the issue.

4. CONTINUE TO DATE. Do not put all your relationship eggs in the JO's basket, s/he will drop them quicker than a third string wide receiver. If you keep your options open and date others, leaving just sex as your focus with the sex buddy, it'll make your life easier.

5. KNOW YOURSELF. I know I already said this, but I can't stress it enough: IF YOU START TO FEEL ANYTHING, THINK ABOUT THEM WHEN YOU'RE EATING FROZEN YOGURT ALSO KNOWN AS CATCHING FEELINGS, FLEE. Fast. I had to put that in caps. I've been here myself, not realizing that I was starting to like dude (usually after I broke aforementioned rules) and didn't realize until it was too late. It happens, easily if you're not careful. Additionally falling under this heading, know yourself enough to know if you are NOT a jump off type of person. If you aren't, nobody really cares, so go about your business and don't employ any heauxs. Don't force the issue, it'll only make you're life hell. Buy a vibrator or jack off, and keep it moving.

That bitch stole my line,


Blackie Collins