Me and the Married Man

I'd like to think there's something wrong with them; that I am fine, doing me, won't change and all that, but now I'm wondering if I'm doing something to warrant this kind of behavior so repeatedly.

You're wondering what I'm talking about. Well here it is: taken men always want to sleep with me. Am I the ideal mistress? I don't like this one bit especially given my dad's extracurricular activities when I was growing up. I just do not condone the married men shit. So, you understand how unwelcomed this sort of thing is for me.

It recently started bothering me again as a guy friend of mine has started making some weird comments in the midst of what I thought was a regular friendship. We've been friends for years, but have gotten closer in the last several months. I'm doing some freelance work for his company, so we're in contact for both business and personal reasons now. And he's married. And I know his wife. And I like her. Even if I didn't, it wouldn't matter, but I felt I should say it just for security purposes. One of the things I love most about him is the fact that he's married, so I don't have to worry about another problem I seem to have a lot: guy friends who have ulterior motives. Since he's married, there's no chance, no shot at him coming out of pocket one night and stepping over the line. Well, ideally there isn't. See, that's exactly what's started happening lately. The other night he was up late doing work and we were chatting on the phone. It was around 1 in the morning, and while my best friend, Maria, is always warning me about the messages late night exchanges gives off, I usually ignore it because I'm such a night owl. I do my best EVERYTHING after midnight and I know so many people who are similar, so we're all up at 3am, g-chatting, tweeting, texting, etc. I don't think much of these kinds of things, but maybe I need to? But back to the story. So, we're talking, regular conversation, when I ask him some advice about some guy I'm not supposed to be dealing with anyway (no boys). We are heavily debating the situation with said dude, and I tell him once again about my abstaining techniques I'm practicing and how this is an issue with the new guy. And at one point my supposedly platonic and married friend says: I mean, if it's a horny issue in general, I'll take care of that for you.

Whaaat? I ignored the comment and said something else to continue the conversation. But a few minutes later, he said something snarky again! Suddenly I looked around, realized it was now 2am, and I was having an inappropriate conversation with a married man who was in his office talking to some woman while his all-unknowing wife slumbered upstairs in their marital bed. I literally looked up to the sky and thought why does this always happen? Can I have one guy friend who never tries me? Especially a married one?!

So, I told my supposedly platonic and married friend this conversation had taken a turn for the worse and that I suddenly felt weird. I told him how I valued the few faithfully married friends I had and wanted him to stay in that category, so even if he was a cheater, I didn't want to know about it and I certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end. He responded by laughing and reminding me how much shit he talks, how I should know he's never serious. Mmmhmm.

So I've been wondering why lately. I just finally put the nail in the coffin of that other guy I talked to several months ago. The one who was "separated" but still lived in his house with his wife. He still texts me even though I haven't responded since 1904. And I won't go into the ex who's married now, but won't leave me alone. As a close female friend put it the other day, "B, you're an atypical type of girl. You are both a girl's girl and a guy's girl, so naturally both men and women flock to you. For a guy, seeing a woman who can hold her own in a crew of dudes, won't make him turn off the game because she's watching too, and loves having a good time, I mean, you're the freedom a married man seeks. They get around you and think, man, how'd I miss this boat." But how is that my fault? This is just who I am, so now what? Cut off all male friends who are married or have serious girlfriends? Well, that's half my contact list being the age I am. I will say the late night calls and content should be exed out. Maybe they are giving off a bad aura. Like shouldn't he be upstairs having a nice conversation with his wife? Content is important also because I don't want you thinking I'm the girl you go to when you want to lament how boring or square your wife is. Nope, not my problem. You should've thought about that when you married the old ball and chain.

But that's all I can come up with. What else am I doing wrong? I seem to be the common denominator amongst these situations, so I am assuming there's gotta be stuff I'm doing without realizing it and it's gotta stop because I'm running out of patience...and guy friends.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

Last One Down The Aisle Wins

Last One Down The Aisle Wins. That's the title of a new relationship book that stresses the notion that anyone who gets married before the age of thirty, reduces their chances of staying married by half. Well, that isn't totally what the book is about, but I felt it was one of the most important points made. The authors state that while many twenty-somethings are running around searching for someone else, they should be spending those years gleaming the most important relationship they'll ever have: The one with themselves.

No one knows who they are at twenty-one and while they get closer as they move towards their thirties, there's still good ten years in there where things can go horribly wrong. This is why my motto has become: last one down the aisle wins.

I was having a drink with a friend a few nights ago when two older gentlemen sat down next to us. One donned a wedding band; the other sans. We were having separate conversations until I turned to him and said: How long have you been married?

He responded with: "About three weeks," to which me and my friend burst out laughing. Much to their "what's so funny" inquiries, we explained that we weren't expecting such a short time frame, being that he looked to be about forty (he was actually forty-one). I asked why he waited so long to get hitched and he said he'd been married before, when he was in his twenties and how it had been more of a passion-filled, infatuation-esque relationship versus his new bride who was his "best friend." His buddy, who had been quiet up until this point, then asked if I had ever been married. I responded no and I guess he caught something in my tone as he followed up with, "what's your issue with marriage?" I told him briefly that I had no issue, but that I subscribed to the last one down the aisle notion, that I'd almost made the mistake once before, that I'd never do it again. I'd just wait it out, fight the good fight. He nodded in agreement as I explained, but you know what ol married dude said? "But don't you want kids?"

Sure, that's the only reason women are plopped on earth, right? I told him I didn't know and while they were a little thrown off, they got over it, brushing it off with, "you want children, you just haven't met the right one to have them with yet."

Thanks, for figuring it all out, Mr. Freud. And being that they're in their forties, it's possible they know more than I do, but the point is this: as we continued to discuss marriage and relationships, I found out that his summer was similar to mine in that his social circle was full of weddings...except his were second time weddings. Most of his friends had all been married before and had moved on from starter wife to future second ex-wife. I'm kidding, but seriously, you have to admit that this last one down the aisle idea is pretty spot on. Spend your twenties traveling, building a career, enjoying a full social life, dating, and more importantly, learning who you are! I'm not saying blow off whoever you're lovin on during your twenties, but keep it in perspective. If you plan on spending the rest of your lives together anyway, what's wrong with waiting a little while longer to ensure you make it to the finish line?

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

WSBD: What Should Blackie Do

*****Author's Note: Sometimes I need you kids to knock my brain around and help me out. What Should Blackie Do?*****

As usual, I was glued to a gossip blog while I was supposed to be doing some sort of work related task, when yet another story popped up about the Alicia Keys/Swizz Beats/Mashonda love triangle that had more saga than Twilight. Seriously, this thing just won't go to bed. There's gotta be something else going on somewhere in the world. Surely, Mariah Carey has finally had a baby or Lindsay Lohan has killed her bunk mate, making her the queen bitch of her cellblock. At any rate, as usual, it got me thinking and as if kindred spirits, an IM popped up on my G-chat. It was Maria.

Maria: Have you seen the pictures of Baby Kenzo? I think I wanna eat him up.

B: No, but I'm worried about the oldest. I think she's going to have weight problems. Have you seen Kimora's neck lately? She's funny tho, so I still love her.

Maria: Do they do neck lifts? I'm sure they do.

B: Speaking of necks, where are you in the gossip blogsphere?

Maria: That has nothing to do with necks and I've got three windows going: E!, TMZ, The YBF. More crap about Alicia Hoes and Swizzy Stick.

B: Stop. Over it. Let's talk about Kimora's neck again.

Maria: I think I'm going to throw out my Alicia albums and I'm never watching Secret Life of Bees again.

B: Who still buys albums? I don't want to talk about them, you know it pisses me off. Stop acting like we know them. We don't and we've both had married men moments before.

Maria: I can neither confirm nor deny that statement.

B: Uh-huh, that's what I thought. I'm totally on this new thing: I can't say what I would do in any situation until I'm in it. No judgement unless I've been there. Does that mean I'm growing up?

Maria: I guess, but you're kicking it to a 24 year old, so doesn't that have a canceling effect?

B: I plead the fifth.

Maria: Yea, fifth GRADER...

Aside from the fact that it's amazing Maria and I still have jobs, I really felt like I was onto something with my new no judgement thing. Maria knows me well though and dug into me like a pair of Lee Press-On Nails until I came out with where this train of thought was really coming from. I've been quite vocal in my defense of Alicia Keys in the whole situation, so I won't go into it again, but I do know one thing: I don't know their situation. I know rumors, which is usually somewhere between true and false, but I don't know exactly what happened. I do, however, know my own situation. I met Tim a few weeks ago. He works in finance, is quite easy on the eyes with the exception of him being light skin and oddly resembling my dad in his young days, and is completely smitten by yours truly. I'm not pressed to talk to him, which seemingly fuels his fire to get in touch with me, but when we talk it's always for no less than an hour. Apparently two people who like to talk can run up a phone bill. Thank goodness for unlimited minutes. During our last conversation, I asked Tim why he lived out in the 'burbs. I know fishy when I smell it and I had to ask before I expelled another T-Mobile minute. Tim hemmed and hawed, but assured me he was going to tell me the truth, which was that Tim got his girlfriend pregnant during his senior year in college and "did the right thing" by marrying her. Fast forward another year and Tim welcomed another son into his suburban, white-picket fenced world. Shortly thereafter, he realized that making others happy while neglecting your own jubilee, does not a happy life make and they separated. Enter me. Here's the issue on the table: this guy has told me the entire ugly truth. The worst part being that he still hasn't technically moved out of the house they own. She lives in the master bedroom and he in another bedroom until he finds other accommodations. Now, I'm no idiot, so I told him this sounded like a horrible case of married man syndrome and that if we fast forwarded five years, I'd still be waiting for him to "find the right time" to move out all while he's still sneaking into the master bedroom to knock some boots. No, thank you. I could tell he felt badly and when he tentatively asked if we'd talk again after the big reveal, I was honest and told him I really didn't know. That's an awful lot of baggage to load on the dock, my dude. I'm not interested in being anyone's stepmom anytime soon nor am I interested in being the other woman. But what if I'm not? What if what he says is the honest to goodness truth and they are separated. I've never been in a situation like this and I do genuinely like the guy. With all the bull galloping around, it's refreshing to have honesty served straight up, no chaser. So here I am, wondering if I made the right decision. And I'm 89% sure I'm not going back on that decision, but we all know how 11% can turn into you are 99.9% not the father! You get my drift though. Anyone out there been in this neck of the woods before? Oh, and I'm not taking any comments on the 24 year old unless you've been there. What, whaaaaat?

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

I Guess You'll Do

**Hey kids, it's time to vote for the 2010 Black Weblog Awards. Go vote Blackie Collins as The Blog To Watch (too bad they don't have a category for your favorite bitch of all time). It's easy! Just go to this link and nominate B by putting in http://thatbitchstolemyline.com in the proper categories, especially Blog to Watch. Don't let these b*tches steal our award!!**

When you were little, you and your best friend, Billy played in the backyard. You played tag, red light/green light, and whatever other game you could make up as the sun went down and lightning bugs came out. Life happened and before you knew it, you and Billy were in high school together, vowing to go off to the same college, or at the very least, within driving difference. A few years pass and you and Billy are in the ever-loved mid-twenties. Perhaps you've moved to the big city together, dating is a disaster, but your friendship is still as present as a porch light left on in the summertime. One night, over an empty bottle of wine, you and Billy lament the wild world of relationships, you worry that love will never come your way. So you and Billy decide if neither of you have found love by 30, which seems like eons away from 23, you'll marry each other.

The good old marriage pact.

For some reason, friends feel the need to give up on finding love at the burning old age of thirty, and marry their female or male best friend just to procreate and not die alone. I remember making this pact with my male best friend, CJ, years ago. CJ had no problem with girls, he was just picky and grew bored easily. I had my share of boyfriends, but due in large part to my obsession with bad boys, I was convinced all guys were furry four legged creatures. We were best friends, had a healthy attraction to each other, and judged the hell out of every boyfriend or girlfriend we had respectively. Our age limit was forty. I wasn't crazy about kids (still am not), nor was CJ, but we both wanted to travel and enjoy life with a mate, so why not your best friend who happened to strike out at marital bliss the regular way: through fate.

Here are three reasons the marriage pact is bogus:

1. The deal breaker. What if you enter into this relationship, decide to go ahead and get married to your pact buddy, only to meet the man/woman of your dreams two weeks later. Don't you deserve a shot at happiness? At true love? So now what? You divorce your bff, leave him/her high and dry, break the pact, lose your friend all in the name of love? The divorce rate is about 873% so that's a high price to pay for something that might not last beyond the early gaga days, but hey, what's another divorce after you've broken the pact with your best friend anyway.

2. It's just so depressing. I can't imagine what it feels like to wake up every day next to the guy who was your back up plan should no one on earth want to marry you. That alone is horrifying, but I'll go ahead an add in the lack of sexual chemistry, the love you like a brother/sister vibe, and the impossible friend zone that you can't get him out of. I know all relationships are based on friendship, but something tells me this isn't what the author of that statement meant. Think of that time Meredith Grey slept with the gay-now-dead-doctor on Grey's Anatomy. Awkward, party of two, your table is ready.

3. There's a reason you two weren't together in the first place. I doubt getting married will cure that.

Just have some patience. God didn't make the world in 32 seconds. Rome wasn't built in a day. We had no idea what was happening on Lost until the final season. Maybe if you stop counting down the days to your age limit birthday, you'd actually live a happier life and attract a person or two. You aren't Cinderella, you won't turn into an old, undesirable hag at midnight, so just relax. Despite popular belief, your Prince Charming might still be out there, and you won't need a marital death sentence to forge that union.

I'm sure you have an opinion...or maybe you have a marriage pact that you plan on honoring. Hit it in the comments section, kids.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

I Bet The Bridesmaids Know My Name

Getting married is a big event for many couples, especially the bride. They spend months, maybe even years planning the big day-it is said to be the best moment of her life; the day she becomes a wife. The dress is altered to a T, the table settings have been slaved over with detail, flowers are in place, the string quartet is paid and ready, it's go time. All the months of planning, all the preparation, all the stress goes out the window as you link up with daddy and head down the aisle. You peruse the guests, smiling at friends, tearing up at family. Then you see her. His close friend, Sandra. She has been around since their freshman year at college, you know her well. At least as well as possible being connected through your soon to be husband. All his friends call her the homie, but when your eyes fall upon Sandra, Sandra has a look of longing on her face...and she's looking at your groom, the "homie." You always joked that their relationship would be more than friends if he'd just give her the chance, you gave her the puppy dog title long ago, but now as you look at her and remember how he INSISTED she be invited at the least (after he proffered her name as a bridesmaid-"she's like a sister to me"), and suddenly you feel a bit queasy. See back in college, there was a night. A night where your then unknown husband to be and said friend took it a step too far. And ever since then he knew she wasn't meant to be anything more but by the look on Sandra's face, she feels the opposite. And all the while you're walking down the aisle, images of them, locked in arms, humping to Jodeci fly through your mind.

And your $50,000 moment is ruined.

This is why the invite list should be void of anyone you or he have sexed. They are off limits. From the moment the line was crossed, their names were crossed off the guest list.

A male friend of mine is getting married and two of his female friends are in the wedding. IN the wedding and not mutual friends between bride and groom but HIS friends. Now, I obviously know this guy well, so I'll tell you it's safe for you to assume two things: one, he probably slept with one or both of them (either simultaneously or on separate occasions) and two, this marriage won't last most likely so who cares? But the fact that she okayed this, said, "Sure babe, I'll reserve a special place in my bridesmaid line up and let them share that day with me. No problem" is mere insanity. It's bad news. I used to joke with THAT guy that we'd come to each others weddings, should we not wind up together. He used to always refuse the idea and while I knew why, I always asked, swore it wasn't a big deal, "we're friends!" He'd tell me something slick like, "yeah, but I wouldn't trust myself to not object when the minister asked if there were any takers." I laughed, happy that he'd be miserable if I ended up with someone else, but the reality is I wouldn't want to be at his wedding either (and ironically, I wasn't invited). It's awkward and an all around bad idea! I barely want to be around friends who are dating guys I used to sneak on the low with, a topic on which we won't even remotely elaborate, so don't even ask.

The guest list should not be a who's who of people who's boots you've knocked. It should be supporters and well-wishers. So, make it as painless as possible, I mean, my goodness, we're talking about marriage here. It's already complicated enough. Do yourself a favor now while you still can.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

Marriage and Other Hazardous Issues

One Labor Day, I spent the weekend at a friends house in the Hamptons. It was the kind of gathering that included a jacuzzi, wine, a grill and nothing but women to man it. We laughed, we cried, we shared. It was one of the best Labor Day weekends to date.

Of course the conversations that ensued are top secret, but the topics of life were covered in depth and detail. Babies, career, marriage, love. The list went on as did the giggles over common guys who stunk in bed or the loves of our lives who had yet to show up or had and were either still there or, sadly, gone. It was interesting to hear my friends talk about love and marriage. Being in our late twenties, it's definitely apart of our everyday lives. Some of our friends are already on that chapter of life, some are on the cusp. Me? I'm far away. Marriage just isn't something I run towards. I go to weddings and I get drunk and dance it up. I have a blast, single or attached. I kinda think I'm the ultimate wedding date. And I don't crowd around the other gaggles of girls when the bouquet is thrown. In fact, I rarely get up to even partake in the spectacle.

It isn't that I am against marriage at all. I do believe in the possibility of meeting someone that I'll actually want to wake up to for the rest of my life or someone with a dope last name, whichever comes first. But I don't believe in getting married just because it's time or it's the right thing to do. Not even because I love you. Love is just the tip of the iceberg, it isn't what keeps it from melting. I believe I'll find that guy-the one I want to wake up to for the rest of my life, but that doesn't mean I have to marry him. What's the difference? A piece of paper and a pretty ring? I know couples who've thrown giant weddings, small weddings. Pairs who've bought rings and signed the certificate. I know people who've pledged themselves true to one person and what has happened? The divorce rate is 46%. That's almost half! I don't know if something is in the water, but sheesh people! You don't have to put a ring on it! At least you don't have to so quickly. Gone are the days of people dating and courting each other for a substantial amount of time. Now, it's like, "Ooooh, I like you! You're fun! Let's get married!" Huh? Why?

I have friends who have marriage on their menus, who are ready to feast on wedding magazines and seating charts. And maybe I support them. Maybe I will stand at the altar with many of them and maybe I will smile and squeeze a tear out because they've found happiness. But I'll definitely be praying my butt off that they last forever because the alternative sucks big time.

It goes without saying that I come from a house of divorce, but the happiness that ensued when my parents realized they were better off apart was wonderful. I grew up in the perfect divorced Huxtible household, so don't start with the "she doesn't believe in marriage because she has issues" conversation. It's a dead one. I understand marriage. I understand divorce. I just don't know who said we all had to run off and get married in our twenties in order to ensure a happy and balanced life. My aunt got married at the age of fifty-four and when someone asked her what took her so long, she shrugged and said, "I was waiting for the right one." I plan to do the same and if it takes longer than these roaring twenties, well that's fine too. Things get better with age anyway.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

Crossing the Great Divide

The long distance relationship is an interesting one. I guess now is as good a time as any to talk about the great love of my young adult life. I met my ex boyfriend at the ripe age of seventeen. We were seniors at rivaled high schools and met through mutual friends. We fell into that kind of love that you can only have at the age of seventeen when your biggest problems involve coordinating your prom outfits and deciding on a movie or bowling on Saturday nights. And when college knocked at our front door, we ended up on different sides of the country, promising to visit each other as much as possible and spending every school break together. Well, as I'm sure you've guessed, our lives grew apart and after making it a commendable 2 years, we broke up. College continued and eventually we graduated and moved back to the same coast where we somehow reconvened much older and wiser by this point. This is where I think we entered into a more grown up relationship. We were in for real love this time and planned to spend our lives together. Our families were friends, he had keys to my parent's house and fed the cat whenever they needed him. Holidays were already divided amongst our families and my gifts usually included diamonds. We were firmly ensconced in each others lives. But there was a giant unmentioned factor in our union-he lived in Boston while I lived in Miami (before I moved to the great Manhattan). We were 'grown ups' though and flew to each other at least every weekend, but it took it's toll. We got sick of having a weekend relationship and not being able to see each other on a regular Wednesday night of must see TV. It became trying and eventually the conversation came: we were going to move in together. Since I was moving to New York City, we would find an apartment together, which immediately made me nervous. We'd been apart for so long, how would we live together? Would it drive me crazy seeing his clippers and toothbrush in my bathroom? Would I go insane picking up his dirty clothes that never seemed to make their way to the hamper? What it came down to was this: did I love him enough to seal the vast space between us, leaving all his 'isms' on the shelf and loving him despite them? My answer was, maybe, which was a problem in itself. On some days I'd be super excited about the move...on others, not so much. The move started off relatively okay and then we started to realize just how different we were. We'd spent so much time apart, we barely knew who we were beyond the confines of a weekend. I started to imagine spending my life with him and I got completely freaked out. He asked my father for my hand in marriage, despite our constant arguing, at least in my opinion, and retracting into separate parts of our two bedroom apartment. He felt as though we were simply getting used to coexisting inside the same four walls. But one day, after a huge fight about my ability to clean up after myself and his inability to so, we sat on the couch and had the conversation that I needed desperately. Were we going to make it? Maybe it was time to cut our losses, move out and move on. After much hemming and hawing, it became clear that we were on two different pages and there was someone better out there for both of us. And even now, with him in Boston, and me in NYC, we're able to talk occasionally and it feels fine-like we were meant to be in each other's lives-just in separate cities.

I have tons of friend embarking on long distance unions, seeking advice on how to make it work. Well, I'll tell you this: communication is everything. You only have limited amounts of face time, so you are depending on phone calls, emails, and text messages to do the job of a good ol' conversation. It becomes taxing, but what it comes down to is the very same bottom line that it comes down to in a regular relationship-if you believe in your heart, at the end of the day, that you want nothing more than that person and will cross the firey pits of hell to bring happiness their way, than you do it. You do whatever you have to do. Men find themselves in the supermarket check out armed with tampons or putting up with the crazy mood swings of their girlfriend once a month. Women discover that they love their man despite the fact that he seems to walk out of his clothes the moment he walks in the door, leaving them wherever or not cringing when, while doing his laundry, you come across a pair of skid marks in his boxers. You find yourselves swallowing your pride, humoring your loved one or allowing them to drool all over you while they cry it out. You do what you have to do because you love them unconditionally and while distance is perhaps the biggest condition, it can become quite small when you're with that someone who makes it all worth it. And no land or sea will keep you from enjoying its value.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins