The Golden State

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Where in the hell was my prince?! Up to this point not only have I kissed multiple frogs, I even married a demon!

After spending the last few days considering a cross country move I decided to exhaust all possibilities here in LA.  Like clockwork whenever I am seriously reconsidering living here the weather is extra sunny and the skies are extra clear.  I tell ya, this city has a way of screwing with girls emotions.  So I thought, maybe I will revisit someone from the past that I might not have given a chance.  So I gave “Vince” a call.  (refer to my very first post- http://confessionsofaserialdaterinla.com/2013/01/am-i-vain-or-just-deserving/).  “Vince” was a cool guy I went out with a couple of time but due to his excessive girth (unfortunately on his waist) I wasn’t sure if I could date him because of my own vanity.  But I figured I could put my vanity aside for the possibility of staying in LA.  Besides I could help him lose weight.  I could make it my personal mission to be his coach and his trainer in his very own The Biggest Loser.  “Vince” was overjoyed to hear from me again.

Vince:  I thought you forgot about me.  You just kicked a brotha to the curb. 

Me:  I have been on the road.  You know how that is. (I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I just wasn’t into him and I had kicked him to the curb.  That would have been mean… right?)

Vince:  Are you in town for a while.

Me:  I am.  How have you been?

Vince:  I’ll be better if you let me take you out to dinner this week.

Me:  You know I live to make you happy Vince!  Where should we meet?

Vince:  How about Boa?

Me:  That works for me.

Vince:  Thanks for giving a brotha another chance.

Me:  Oh Vince, you are too much.

I hung up the phone and I thought.  See, you were just being a vain bitch.  You should have given this man a chance.  So what if he is a little bigger than you typically like.  He is going to adore you.  Wednesday night came and I pulled up to Boa.  I settled on a fairly casual outfit.  To be honest, normally when I am excited about going out with someone I go all out.  It takes a few hours of preparation.  But since it was “Vince” I didn’t feel the need for all the usual pomp and circumstance so I wore a pair of dark jeans, I bright pink blazer and a pair of heels, with an oversized clutch (in honor of going out with my oversized man).  When I walked into Boa “Vince” was sitting down at one of the couches at the bar checking emails on his phone.  When he saw me his eyes lit up and he stood.  Oh boy… he stood up.  He looked like he gained a good 15 pounds more since the last time we went out.  I went up to him and gave him a hug.  I couldn’t wrap my arms around him.  So I tried to focus on something good about him.  Okay, he had on a very nice suit.  It was obviously custom.  I guess it had to be.  If you are that large I doubt you can just go to a regular store and buy a suit.  I had to once again tame down my inner diva.  Give him a chance.  He might look like Professor Klump but at least he knows how to court a woman.  That’s what you said you were looking for.  So bitch sit down and allow yourself to be courted! 

Nutty-Professor

Give him a chance. He might look like Professor Klump but at least he knows how to court a woman. That’s what you said you were looking for. So bitch sit down and allow yourself to be courted!

 

We walked to the host stand and he told the young lady his name and she immediately sat us at one of the best tables in the restaurant.  Okay, that’s what I’m talking about!  Suddenly his extra girth wasn’t so unappealing.  That’s not exactly true.  But I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, fake it till you make it.  I was attempting to test out that theory.  He helped me with my chair.  The waiter came to the table to take our drink orders.

Vince:  I’ll have a cranberry juice with lime and she’ll have a glass of the Dog Point Sauvignon Blanc.

Me:  Wow Vince I’m impressed.

Vince:  I pay attention. 

Me:  Noted.

Vince and I caught up on our lives over the last 3 months.  He recently renovated his home and had just returned from taking his kids to Hawaii for their spring break.  The conversation was great and the wine was sensational.   I was really enjoying my time with “Vince.”  I was suddenly willing to overlook his arms resting on the top of his stomach when he crossed them and his rather thick unibrow (something I hadn’t noticed before).  As a matter of fact when he crossed his arms over his large stomach I noticed a beautiful yet settle Rolex watch.  Okay, this wasn’t too bad.  I can overlook the unappealing qualities.  The good is outweighing the bad (no pun intended).  Then the waiter came to the table to prepare our table side Cesar salad.  The waiter was mixing the salad.  So I decided to start my Trainer position to help my man lose some eight.  I’m sure he could appreciate it.  So I subtly said to the waiter.

Me:  Light on the cheese and dressing!  Um… Please.

Vince:  Oh no!  Extra cheese and dressing.  As a matter of fact please put extra dressing on the side.

Me:  I do not like a lot of dressing on my salad.

Vince:  (to the waiter) Listen to the person who is paying.

With that the waiter looked at me, shrugged, and overloaded cheese and dressing onto the salad.  I ordered another glass of Sauvignon Blanc.  This is why I always will work even if I end up married to a zillionaire.  I never want to be in a situation where I am beholding to some man all because he holds the purse strings.  Don’t get me wrong.  I want to be taken care of and would welcome a man who is financial able to keep me in the lifestyle I am accustomed to.  But I will always maintain my independence and have “Fuck you” money.

Vince:  You always gotta be in control of shit.  Just sit back and let me handle shit.  I see I’m gonna have to get you in check!

Me: Uh.. excuse me?

Vince:  Calm down I’m just playing. 

Me:  (laughing) Oh I know.  You ain’t crazy! 

Vince:  But you ARE always trying to control shit.    

Me:  You’re right.  I’m working on it.

Vince:  We are going to have to figure out a way to get you to let me handle things.

Me:  I’m open to suggestions. 

I realized he was giving sexual innuendos.  The idea of this man naked sent me into a panic.  I took a long chug of my wine and tried to shake it off.  I also concentrated on not throwing up in my mouth or on him for that matter.  Maybe in his mind he thought since we were out on our 5th date he was going to go there.

Vince:  You gotta to experience the GRP.

Me:  What’s the GRP?

Vince:  The Golden Rod of Power.

I literally choked on my wine.  Perhaps my ears were still clogged from the flight I had taken last week.

Me:  What’s the Golden Rod of Power?

Vince:  (he slowed down his speech and enunciated each word like he was teaching me how to read) The Golden…Rod… of…  Power.

Just when I was taking a sip of my Sauvignon Blanc it clicked.  I figured out what the GRP really was.  I literally spit my wine out.

Me:  Are you talking about peeing on someone?

Vince:  I don’t have to pee on you.  It can be the other way around.

I was disgusted.  I was mortified.  And suddenly the beautiful coloring of the Sauvignon Blanc I was drinking had taken on a different meaning and I couldn’t stomach it.

ME:  Have you lost your God damn mind?! 

I didn’t realize my voice was raised until I noticed a couple at a table 3 down was looking at us.  So I lowered my voice.  I wasn’t trying to re-create a scene from The Real Housewives of Atlanta.

Vince:  Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.

Me:  I can’t believe you just said that shit.  You need to save that for some bitch with low self esteem.  How dare you?

Vince:  Calm down, I was just playing.

Me:  No you weren’t.  You were dead ass serious.  You were trying to feel me out to see if I was some type of nasty ass freak.  Well I’m not.  You’re absolutely repulsive. 

Vince:  Damn it’s like that?

Me:  Yes it is you disgusting fat fuck.  Good night.  Good bye.  And lose my number.  Now go piss on that! 

I threw my napkin down on the table and walked out.  Thank goodness I didn’t waste a good outfit on this fool!  Of course the valet was taking forever to bring my damn car around.  I was hoping and praying my car would hurry up and come around.  But that damn Murphy’s Law clearly has a bone to pick with me.  And “Vince” walked out.

Vince:  Look, I was just playing.  Seriously I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to take things too far.

It was hard for me to even look at him.  What made this man think that I would want his diabetic, high cholesterol piss anywhere near my home let alone my body?  Who the fuck does that type of nasty shit?  He stood there, all 350 pounds of him.  He now looked repulsive.  And WHERE THE FUCK WAS MY DAMN CAR???!!!!

Me:  Have I given off any type of vibe that I would think that was remotely funny?

Vince:  I know, like I said I took things too far and I’m really sorry.  Please let me make that up to you.

Me:  I thought you were a different type of man.  But clearly I was wrong.  I’m not even interested in being friends with you.  Have a nice life.

Vince:  I understand and I hope you can one day accept my apology.

Luckily my car had finally made its away back from the valet.  What in the hell was going on with these men?  I met one who was a swinger, another one who suggested I wear knee pads, and now a fat fuck that was into Golden Showers?  I know I am not putting out a vibe that I am remotely into that kind of shit.  As I drove off I had to repeat my mantra…

Do not become bitter.  All men are not alike.  You have to kiss frogs to get to your prince.

City Sky

I looked at the brightest star and the thought suddenly occurred to me. Right now at this very moment, my soul mate could be looking at that same star wondering where I was.

Where in the hell was my prince?!  Up to this point not only have I kissed multiple frogs, I even married a demon.  How many more lessons, life experiences, and bad dates do I have to go on before I experience bliss?  I even attempted to give Professor Klump a chance in an effort to stop being shallow and look where that got me.  I have to continue to believe and have faith that the right man is out there.  I guess these shitty experiences make it even more special when you finally find your prince.  The key is remaining hopeful. The second you lose hope is the point in time where you do become bitter.  I decided to make a right on Mulholland and pull over and take a moment to get out of my car and just take a second to stop.  At times, you can find yourself on this never ending merry go round called “Life.”  Sometimes you go round and round and it becomes monotonous.  Lately that’s how I felt.  The dating world can push you down, drag your through the mud, and leaving you feeling empty and alone.  It’s at those moments when you just have to stop and get off the ride and catch you breath.  I had finally reached that point.  So I did just that.  I stopped.  I put my top down.  And I sat in my car looking up at the stars.  I looked at the brightest star and the thought suddenly occurred to me.  Right now at this very moment, my soul mate could be looking at that same star wondering where I was.  Praying for God to send me to him.  What a refreshing thought!  No matter how bad it got, I knew that he was out there looking for me and eventually we are going to find each other. But until then, I vowed I would no longer settle, second guess, and doubt what I need and deserve.  I made the decision to continue to believe and have faith that he is coming soon.  And what a lucky man he will be.  That thought left me in a true Golden State…      

 
Monique K.Bradley

 

 

I can be found on: Facebook | Twitter | Google+

When the Boss Is Away…

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When the boss is away…

Every year my friends and I go on an annual ski trip.  It’s a group of ten of us who went to Hampton University together and it is literally a week of non-stop partying.  Black professionals hit the slopes and afterwards head over to a happy hour party that rivals any college frat party.  The only difference is the beer kegs are replaced with expensive scotches, whiskies, and vodkas.  We revert to college students only we are 30+ with bank accounts and careers.  We rent a house and we leave the warm 80 degree LA weather and head off to the cold slopes.   This year we went to Aspen.  While on the shuttle to pick up our rental car I sat next to a handsome brotha in his mid forties.  He had bronze coloring and salt and pepper hair.  He wore glasses and just looked like he had his shit together.  He was wearing jeans, Ferragamo loafers, and a coat.  He was clearly ear hustling on the conversation my friends and I were having.  My girlfriend was telling us a hilarious story about how one of the Nigerian guys who sell the fake designer purses on the NYC streets outside of her work building gave her $200 for a Christmas present “Just because.”  He chuckled but remained a little standoffish.  So at a certain point we decided to include him in the conversation. There is an assumption any black person you see in the area is heading to the slopes for the same event.  We introduced ourselves and discovered he was an Alumni of Hampton University as well and graduated nearly a decade before us.  As soon as we made that connection, “Russell” turned into a different person.  He loosened up and joined in our vacation foolery.  “Russell” was a married father of twins.  He immediately took out a picture of his beautiful family.  There sat “Russell” with is beautiful wife that looked like she stepped off the runways of Paris.  She had a chocolate complexion with high cheekbones and the natural wild hairstyle.  His little twin girls were dressed in their Christmas dresses and were the perfect blend of the two parents.  And the color coordinated family sat beaming under a Christmas tree in their holiday card picture.  He informed us that his wife “allowed” him to have a vacation with his boys but just for a day and a half.  This makes absolutely no sense!  To spend all that time travelling for ski week only to be there for a day and a half is plain stupid.  Obviously his wife was the boss of that household.  But why only let him go out for a day?  I am a firm believer in the idea of still maintaining your own life after marriage.  I think it is healthy for a husband to have his “guys” trip and for a wife to have her “girls” trips and then have a romantic trip by yourself as a couple.  I do not understand the concept of keeping your man on a short leash.  Clearly, “Russell” was a stand up guy.  He even showed us a picture of his wife.  But hell, this wasn’t my marriage and he certainly wasn’t my man so I honestly could care less.  “Russell” was actually excited that the weather conditions were bad because that meant regardless of his wife’s demands, he was stuck in Aspen for an extra few days until the snow slowed down.  “Russell” exchanged information with one my friends so we could all connect once we were settled in Aspen.  A few hours later, there was a knock on our door.  And to my surprise there stood “Russell.”  One of our friends had sent him our condo information and invited him over.  I invited “Russell” in and offered him a cocktail.  My friends and I were just bugging out having cocktails.  “Russell” fit right in.  He told us the group he was with was already getting ready to go to bed and they were not as much fun as we were.  Clearly, our group had unleashed the beast in “Russell.”   I guess we reminded him of how much fun he wasn’t having. We were having a heated debate about relationships and the guys were giving their take and the girls were shutting down the BS notions.  It was a scene from A Different World.  The bond that happens when you attend an HBCU is unlike any other experience.  Times like this really brought me back to our college days.  We had been friends since freshmen year and here we were many years later just as close and able to relate to each others as adults.  The drinks were flowing. The shit talking was at an all time high, and the altitude had all of us FUCKED UP.  It was awesome!!!  Little by little the group started retiring to bed.  It had already been a long day.  Between the travel and drinks we were spent.  Most normal people would take a hint that it was their time to go.  But not this guest.  The more “Russell” drank the more inappropriate he got.  We were all tired and were trying to give him a hint that it was time for him to get the fuck out and he just didn’t get it.  At one point “Russell” was sitting next to me and whispered in my ear:

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There is a guy that I think would be perfect for you. Why don’t you come over and I’ll introduce you to him. He’s staying at my house.

Russell:  There is something so sexy about you.  I could wear you out!

I practically spit out my Yellowtail Pinot Noir (don’t judge, we had to buy the big bottle of wine).

Me:  What?

Russell:  You are just so sexy. 

Me:  Ok Russell.  (I condescendingly patted him on his leg writing him off)

Russell:  I’m dead serious.  You are so fine.  I can’t take my eyes off of you.

Me:  But you’re married.  Where are your single friends? 

Russell:  There is a guy that I think would be perfect for you.  Why don’t you come over and I’ll introduce you to him.  He’s staying at my house.

Me:  I’m not going anywhere with you.  You can email me your “friend’s” contact information. 

I’m not sure if “Russell” saw the words “dumb, stupid, and desperate” written on my forehead.  But I looked at him like he had two heads.  First of all, I didn’t care how high the altitude was, I wasn’t going anywhere with a stranger to a house with a bunch of men I didn’t know.  I would never allow myself to get that drunk.  Not to mention, I think the friend “Russell” had in mind for me was the bulge that I was seeing occur in his jeans.  At this point I got up and went to the other room where 2 of my other friends were conferencing on how in the hell to get this now drunken fool out of the house.  And of course they turned to me.  Why did I always have to be the one to be rude and do the dirty work?  My friends answer was plain and simple…That’s what you do.  I glared at the friend who invited his ass in the first place.  I took a deep breath and went back out to the living room.  I thought maybe just maybe one of the guys could do it, but they were nowhere to be found.  When I went to the living room Russell was pouring himself another drink.

Me:  Hey, there Russell.  I don’t know where you’re going but you got to get the hell out of here.

Russell:  (words slightly slurred) I know, I know.  I have overstayed my welcome.  But let me just finish my drink.

Me:  We are all really tired.  You’ve had enough. 

I took his drink out of his hand and handed him a bottle of water and his keys.  Luckily “Russell” was walking distance.  I went to get his coat and when I came back he was patting his jacket for his keys.

Russell:  I lost my keys.

Me:  What do you mean?  You just had them. 

Russell:  I don’t know where they are. 

I looked down on the floor and his keys were perfectly placed behind a chair.  Clearly he was trying to be slick and stay.  I bent down and handed them over to him.  Walked him to the door and gently nudged him out of the house and locked the door behind him.  He wasn’t a belligerent angry drunk so I wasn’t concerned for our safety.

That’s when it hit me.  I was so quick to judge his wife for only “allowing” him a day and a half to go on a trip.  That’s probably why his wife only allowed his ass to travel for a day and a half.  She probably knows what a fool he becomes when he is away from home.  That’s not a way to live.  When I am in a relationship I don’t want to have to worry that my man is going to be out somewhere showing his ass.  Think about it, if I was a scandalous bitch, I could have had a fling with him and kept it moving.  But I have this wonderful thing called MORALS!  I had a feeling that wasn’t the first time “Russell” tested out a woman to see if she would get down.  And suddenly I had a great amount of compassion for his wife.  Here this lady was at home taking care of twins trying to give her husband the benefit of the doubt and he took advantage of it.  I can’t imagine being in a relationship where I constantly had to worry if my husband would do the right thing.  When it comes down to it, if a man is going to show his ass, he can show it in a day and a half, a week and a half, or an hour and a half.  I don’t think “Russell” is a bad person, I think perhaps he just felt so free to be out and about having a good time that for a moment he wanted to be irresponsible… I know it’s a stretch, I ‘m just trying to give the brotha the benefit of the doubt.  I have friends who are married and have perfectly healthy relationships where there is trust and respect.  They give each other the freedom to still have their own life.  I chose to focus on those relationships.  I must believe “Russell” is a minority when it comes to this.  I guess it is true, for some people.  When the boss is away… the children will play.

 
Monique K.Bradley

 

 

I can be found on: Facebook | Twitter | Google+

Knee Pad New York….

knee Pads

Things can get lost in translation with text messages.

There is something about being out of town that makes me feel freer and the men more attentive.  I have the privilege of traveling to New York City every few weeks.  And I am a firm believer in mixing business with pleasure.  I don’t know if I give off a different aura when I’m in NYC or if the men just know how to treat a lady.  It never fails that every single time I come into this great city I have at least 2 dates in the week.  And I typically meet men so easily.  Perhaps my subconscious is in vacation mode therefore anything goes?  Maybe it’s the excitement of the city.  I have to admit, I feel like I’m in an episode of Sex and the City every time I have to hail a cab.  I feel powerful and extra confident.  I have no idea.  While in NYC a few weeks ago I went to Harlem Social with some friends to celebrate my girlfriend’s birthday.  While sipping on my Sangria, I looked up and saw a tall handsome man standing on the other side of the room (I am a sucker for a man with height).  I gave him my mega million dollar smile and winked.  He smiled and winked back.  It was a great start to the night.  Typically in LA, that rarely happens.  As a matter of fact that is usually how I can tell the difference between men who live in LA or who are visiting just based on their approach.  A few minutes later he was making his way over.  He asked to buy me a drink.  It was so refreshing to be in a spot where a man actually took the time to walk from across the room to connect with you.  Gotta love those NYC men!  I told him I was visiting from LA and would be leaving in two days.  Not only did he ask for my number but he had me call him from my phone right there on the spot and put my information in his phone immediately.  The next day he called me and asked me out.  He knew I had a wedding to go to that afternoon and I only had a small window of opportunity to see him if it was going to happen this trip.  So a few hours later I was sitting in the lobby of my hotel across from “John” having coffee and getting to know him.  “John” was a recently divorced father of 2 and had a career in governmental affairs.  He was born and raised in the Bronx and currently lived in Harlem.  He had that NYC edge I like.  You know I am a Jersey girl and I’m naturally drawn to east coast men.  He had charisma and confidence.  As we finished up our first meeting he asked me out for the next evening right away.  We took a stroll around Central Park and then went for cocktails at LAVO in midtown.  In dissecting this, I believe there are a few factors that played into this: 

1-       When men know that they have a limited window of time to see you they step up their game.  When you live in the same city there seems to be a lackadaisical attitude of, “She’ll be around I’ll ask her out when I get to it.”  Whereas when you’re an “Out- of-Towner” there is a greater sense of urgency.  Men want to figure out sooner if you’re worth the investment of time and money.  They need to get that first date in right away to see if they are willing to put in the text messages, the long phone hours, and even more so invest in getting a plane ticket to come out to your city to visit.

2-      I think I give out a different energy when I am out-of-town.  Because I do not live in the city I have nothing to lose.  I could get on top of a table and dance at a party and not care because I don’t live here.  When I land in a different city I automatically have a different vibe.  It’s New York, I feel energized and I also stand out.  If you walk into a crowded restaurant in New York City, it is easy to spot out an out-of-towner.  It’s even easier to spot out someone from LA.  Los Angeles women have a glow to them.  A permanent golden tan, a brighter smile, a relaxed chilled out attitude.  We definitely stand out in a crowd!

3-      New Girl syndrome think back to when you were in high school and a new girl  starts in the middle of the school year or even think back to your freshmen year in college.  In both scenarios you are fresh meat.  Men appreciate and are attracted to new things, new women, and new conquests.

When I left New York, “John” and I were off to a great start.  He was calling me every day.  He was sending me texts at a decent text to phone call ratio.  Texting is NOT a damn conversation.  Texting should be used to communicate information, let me know I am on your mind in the middle of the day, but not as a full-out conversation.  I can’t tell you how many women fall into the text trap and think they have a relationship with a man because they are texting all day.  That is absolute bullshit!  Like Patti Stingers says, intimacy happens between your ears not under your fingers.  I digressed…  I’ll save the whole text messaging discussion for a future blog.

LA-vs_-NYC-2

Different cities…Same problems…

I was enjoying getting to know this man.  He was charming, witty, and we had great conversations.  I started making plans for upcoming meetings in NYC an I was excited to know I would be there for a full week and get to spend some quality time with “John.”  Two days before I left for the Big Apple I was out running errands at The Grove.  While I was trying on a new shade of pink lip gloss from MAC I got a text message from “John.”

John:  Hey beautiful, what are you up to?

Me:  Running errands…shopping.

John:  Don’t forget to buy some knee pads.

You know that moment in a movie when there is a loud screeching of a record coming to a sudden stop.  I swear, no over exaggeration this happened (in my head).  I looked at the text for a few minutes.  I thought there had to be a glitch in the iPhone system.  You know auto correct can be a bitch.  There is no way in hell, this well-traveled, sophisticated man I had been talking to for a month would have sent some ignorant ass text message on purpose.

Me:  Don’t forget to buy what? (When I hit send, I prayed that he would send me a message that his auto correct had put the wrong word in his previous text)

John:  Don’t forget to buy knee pads ;-)… I have plans for you.

Okay.  So it wasn’t auto correct.  This Simpleton (one of my mother’s favorite words for a fool) was serious and even elaborated on it!  My sweet “getting to know a man” side immediately went running away and in entered my “You’re an asshole and you will get checked” side.

Me:  Sure I’ll get knee pads… what’s your size?

JohnLOL!  Not for me, for you.  (Not only was “John” highly inappropriate.  Apparently he was selfish too)

Me:  That text came out of nowhere.

John: You’re tripping.

Me:  John, what’s up with your crazy ass text message?

John:  Why are you tripping?

Me:  I’m not tripping at all.  I don’t know you like that.  I want to make sure I am managing your expectations.  SEX ISN’T GOING DOWN WHEN I SEE YOU!

And really to be honest, at the end of the day if I was contemplating going there, he had turned me off so much that any small percentage of chance was now gone!  However, I understand how things get lost in translation with text messages.  I really get that.  I’m not unreasonable.  In the past I was so quick to cut a guy off and never call him again but I was doing things differently.  I wanted to give this man the benefit of the doubt.  So I called him.  He answered on the first ring.

John:  You’re tripping.

Me:  You’re coming out of left field.  Knee pads?  Really?

John:  That’s the problem with women.  You all want to fuck just as badly as men do.  But you all are busy reading Steve Harvey and making these damns rules!  (Here we go with that damn Steve Harvey bullshit!  Remind me to kick his ass when I see him.  He has really fucked it up for single women who were actually holding out without his “advice”)

Me:  You know what John, take you knee pads and go fuck yourself.  (With that I hung up the phone and to this day ignore his phone calls and text messages.

NYC

What would happen if I took that same mentality and aura I have when I am out of town and put out that same energy when I am in LA?

NYC/LA… Different city…Same Problems…  However, here’s a thought.  What would happen if I took that same mentality and aura I have when I am out-of-town and put out that same energy when I am in LA?  So many times, as women, we are so quick to point out what men do and don’t do.  But what would happen if we started with ourselves instead?  Look at what kind of energy we project into the dating world.  It was right after I hung the phone on “John” that I made a conscious effort to change my LA dating energy into my NYC dating energy.  I’m not saying that would mean I wouldn’t have another dating disaster.  But at least I could begin to enjoy my singledom and not take it so damn seriously.  What kind of dating energy are you projecting?  Vacation:  let loose and have fun or Home Base: anxiety ridden tenseness.  At least my experience with “John” gave me a small golden nugget…. Knee pads?  SMH!

Monique K.Bradley

 

 

I can be found on: Facebook | Twitter | Google+