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,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

Rebounding

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,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

Gangsta Luv

"You ain't felt love until a gangsta get up in it."

I never quote rappers when I'm trying to say anything of major importance, but Snoop was kinda right. There's something about thug lovin. There's an aggressiveness, a roughness, not to mention the tatted torso, back and arms. Think about it. Women have cried tears of joy over 50 cent's chiseled torso and muraled back. The posters of him holding guns and stories of jail and drugs sold millions. Tupac was the epitome of living a thug life and many women loved him for it. Perhaps the strangest example is Lil Wayne. Have you seen his babies' mothers? Have you seen him? Right. They love the danger, the rough neckness of it all. A good friend once told me she had no idea why, but she found Rick Ross sexy as hell. That's tossing the stone a bit far, but yea, there was a reason and it was the rough edges, the armed and dangerousness, the thug life. But make no mistake, when you crack that outer shell open, what's inside is just as great. Perhaps the best part is the protective casing of someone who's as soft as a Snuggie on the inside. I mean, you can't go hard all the time. And talk about loyalty. You go hard for them, they go hard for you. Usually for good. Even long after, you can always call on them. Holler if you need me, you know I still got you.

My mom used to laugh at me because I grew up around anything but thugs, yet I seemed to find boyfriends that fit the casting to a T. Something about me rebelling against my cookie cutter life. My thugs were usually fake suburban ones, but once I left the confines of our little world, you couldn't stop me from finding the hardest dude out there. And they loved me. I think because I was so not the around the way girl, the chick from the block. I made them laugh with my love of rock music (I once warranted a major laugh from my dude and his friends when I asked who Gucci Mane was), but can still talk shit and keep up with the dudes in a game of spades. One of my ex's was as thuggy as they come. Jail time, tats, drug-selling, the whole 9mm. It was as extreme as I'd ever gone, and few supported. While I was like a moth to a flame with him, I also knew there was no future. I may like 'em, but I don't have time to reform them. And after one too many fights in the club, I was like, "Anger management or move on."

My boy just told me that chicks our age shouldn't be into thugs anymore It's an immature thing. I guess in the end, it's another thing you outgrow, which sucks 'cause I love the thugs. Maybe I'm reaching to my alter ego, my crazy girl when I'm with this kind of dude, but one things for certain: the bigger the gat, the better my clit clacks.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

HAPPY 100th!!

These past 100 posts have been filled with sweat, tears, love, and more. Thanks for reading, thanks for commenting. Here's to the next 100.

As always: that bitch stole my line,

xoxo Blackie Collins

Marathon Man

Every woman dreams, whether admittedly or not, that they want a full-time lover. One who puts in serious work and is the absolute definition of laying it down. We love hearing the stories from girlfriends. Green with envy as we listen to them brag about how he goes all night, every night. Insert sigh.

Well, in the real world, all night is usually only an hour or two. Longer than the prerequisite thirty minutes of McLovin' he gives you. Yes, we all love a good quickie. A quick third quarter of nookie, but most women still complain about the lack of languorous nights full of oo's and ah's that are at the very least, a good Duracell.

Enter Marathon Man.

Breaks you off something serious, but not with the speed of lightning. Instead, he sexes you for five, six, seven hours. Like a titanium Energizer, he just keeps going and going and going. A lot can happen during that time, none of which is a water break longer than a few minutes. You are literally worn out. Put to sleep not because you lost count of your orgasms, but because of the sheer exhaustion! He put you to bed, all right.

Marathon Man isn't a myth.

Marathon Man isn't an urban legend.

Marathon Man is real.

I went to dinner with Maria last night and she started talking about a guy she started dating a few days before New Year's Eve. She said she felt lukewarm about him, could care less whichever way it went. Then they slept together. They've hung out every night since. Maria's exhausted and not because she works hard, but because her ass is up, getting it in, for 5 and 6 hours a night! I sat and listened to her tell me-in great detail-how he flips her, rips her, dips her, just all around gets her. And gets it in. I sat there, mouth agape, thinking, "Wowzers. That's the life." But is it really? It's great, yes, feels amazing, absolutely. But what about the good ole quickie? What about sleep? What about not walking right for a week while you're at work, trying to do your job?

Hmmm, good questions, indeed, but...what about any of it? Here's to the friggin good life. I'll sign up for it any night of the week. In fact if there was a Batman-esque "Marathon Man" signal to shine like a beacon above New York City? I'd be waving it like a flag, all. night. long.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

The One Vs. The Right One

You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make that dude drink if he ain't thirsty enough. I believe there is such a thing as the One. Thee One, yes, that's who we're talking about here. The one whom you believe is that person; the one you could wake up next to for as long as you take in oxygen. Huge. Wonderful. Hold that thought. Because it is absolutely possible to confuse The One with The Right One. You meet someone and you feel a click. It feels different, it feels great. You carry on without any degree of caution. You go forward like you've never been hurt, and maybe you haven't, maybe you have. Perhaps those are both problems, perhaps not.

Then something happens. Time passes. You both realize how happy you are, maybe a little too happy. Maybe you start waiting for the other shoe to drop, you start backing away, running away from great things, wishing to add a few more notches to your bedpost. You care, deeply even, but not enough to keep you from parting ways. And it feels bad. Really bad. Something feels amiss. You didn't realize it, but they were absolutely apart of your life. Your bed still smells like them, there's food of theirs in the fridge, their toothbrush is still sitting next to your's. You wipe away all traces, but it still feels empty. Vacant. You hear a funny story and go to grab your phone, but you can't do that anymore. He or she is gone. No longer a secure channel for which you can confide. And you realize something has changed in you, they changed something in you, you think you might've just said goodbye to the One, but you say, "no, that's can't be possible...right?" You shake it off, pretend that feeling doesn't exist and eventually it doesn't. On to the next and all that. When this happens, you have mistaken it for The Right One, but it isn't. It's simply The One.

See, there's a giant difference between the two. The One is someone who will be important in the grand scheme of things. Maybe he or she will have their own titled chapter in the book of your life or maybe just an honorable mention. There can be more than one One in your life. And you can cry over the One, sulk over the One, talk shit about the One, but you can move onfrom the One. But the Right One? Well, that's a horse of a different color. The Right One clamps down tight and doesn't let you go. The Right One lets go of their own fears and plunges ahead. The Right One promises forever and then does their absolute best to give you just that.

You can lead the One to water, but you can't make 'em drink. But, the Right One doesn't need to be led and drinks without any kind of force at all.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins

The Right Girl at the Wrong Time

I was brunching at a neighborhood eatery. A place where everybody knows my name and the owner personally says hello when I dine in. Me and my girlfriends were chatting, laughing and doing all things associated with a group of intelligent, attractive women. The usual suspects, the usual topics. One that caught my ear, made me instantly say, "I gotta write about that" was the notion of the right woman coming into a man's life at the wrong time and him subsequently letting her go.

See, a man must have all his ducks in a proverbial row before he can accept someone into his life on a serious basis. He must have a solid job, money in the bank, clothes in his closet, a strong and secure personality, void of drama. They don't need to be perfect, but they have to be on the right page. Healthy and happy people accept and attract other healthy and happy people. Damaged people, well, they attract each other too. So, when a man doesn't have his duckies lined up, when he is so on the wrong foot he can barely walk straight, he cannot possibly begin to insert a woman into the equation. She may be exactly what he never knew he always wanted, but he will let her go. He will release her out to the wolves with the possibility that some other dude will see exactly what he found right in her in the first place. It's frustrating, but true. And in the end he's actually doing the girl a favor, but we'll get to that.

Now, when he's on the right footing, walking tall, he will want and maybe even need a woman to share in his successes. The wrong one may come along, but if it's the right time, he'll go ahead and proceed anyway. Once again, it's more about him than anything else. Men are more selfish than selfless-that trait is usually reserved for women- and even if you're milkshake brings every single boy to the yard and has them coming back for first, seconds, and thirds, he won't if he simply can't get it together long enough to find a straw. He's too busy looking for himself!

Now about this favor. He is doing you a huge one by letting you go. Look, someone right can get their hands on you if he does. It may even be the object of your desire when he's in a better place. But for the time being, please exit stage left. It may hurt. It may seem like there was something wrong with you, but there isn't. It's completely and utterly the cliche: "it's me, not you." You must get out your magnifying class and look at things clearly, for what they truly are, not what you want them to be. Trying to be with someone who isn't together will only make you come undone yourself and no matter what time it is for anyone, that is never all right.

That bitch stole my line,

xoxo

Blackie Collins