The Golden State


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-  “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! 


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+

Full Exposure


I have to be honest, I can’t blame it all on my business travel. I had major writer’s block due to second guessing.

I know it has been a while since I have written.  I have to be honest, I can’t blame it all on my business travel.  I had major writer’s block due to second guessing.

I went to a party last month.  I love parties in LA where it’s a REAL party where people are actually dancing and having a good time.  The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and the crowd had an east coast feel to it.  While I was out on the dance floor jamming to some old school I got a tap on my shoulder.  I turned around and low and behold there was “McDreamy.”  (If you’re not familiar please refer to the original blog post-  He was still looking fine as hell.  And he was still with one of his typical video vixen type chicks.  I immediately went into panic mode.  My heart started beating fast.  I tried to inhale and exhale deeply.  I talked to my inner diva. “Relax, there’s no way in hell he knows about the blog.”  He gave me a hug and whispered in my ear.

McDreamy:  Nice blog.

Oh shit.  Oh shit.  Oh shit.  He knows!  I had to think to think quickly.  My wine induced buzz certainly didn’t help matters.  So I did what any mature woman would do.

Me:  What blog?  I have no idea what you’re talking about. 

With that I walked off.  News flash, sometimes I am still that 15 year old trapped in a 35 year woman’s body.  When I started this blog, I knew I was targeting women and gay men.  I figured a few men might find out about it.  But I never thought my subjects would know.  Besides, I changed the names to protect the Foolery.  When I write, I feel protected behind my keyboard and lap top screen.  I called my mother the next day.

Me:  Mommy!  I ran into one of my subjects!

Mom:  (after cracking up for a good 30 seconds) What did he say?

Me:  Nice blog.

Mom:  What did you say?

Me:  I told him I didn’t know what he was talking about.

Mom:  Well why would you do that?  You have nothing to be ashamed of.

Me:  Mom he probably hates me!  I’m mortified.

Mom:  You’re going to have to have a thicker skin.  Just own your shit! 

I hung up the phone with my mom.  I loved her candor, honesty, and support.  But I still called about 4 other friends of mine who pretty much said the same thing.  Two weeks later I was at a networking event.  I was at the bar having a sparkling water.  And just because Murphy’s Law likes to fuck with me to epic proportions, guess who I ran into again… You guessed it.  “McDreamy.”

McDreamy:  I was serious when I told you nice blog.

Me: You were?

McDreamy:  Yeah.  I like how you write.  It’s really entertaining.

Me:  How did you find out about it?

McDreamy:  I just did.

Me:  Are you mad?

McDreamy:  Hell no!  I wanted to frame it.  I liked your description of me.  It was on point.

Suddenly I relaxed and decided to use this as an opportunity.  How often do we as women have the chance to ask man how he really feels?  And what the hell is his problem?

Me:  I am so glad.  I was worried you had put my picture on a dart board.  But seriously McDreamy, you are so handsome, smart, and fun.  Why do you have to be a freak?!

McDreamy:  It’s just a lifestyle I prefer.

Me:  Okay.  Well I have one question for you.  Since you’re into the swinging lifestyle are you bi?

I figured, since he was so open I might as well get all my questions answered.

McDreamy:  When I read that I laughed.  Hell no.  I’m just not into traditional sex.  You should try it.

Me:  Real funny.  Like I said, that’s never going down.  It’s just a shame because we could be so good together but you are into some freaky shit that I just could not ever get down with.  But I really appreciate you being the honest person you are.

McDreamy:  That’s all I ever can be.  Keep up the blog.  I think it has potential to be big.  For real.

Running in McDreamy

Me: Are you mad?
McDreamy: Hell no! I wanted to frame it. I liked your description of me. It was on point.

We hugged.  And it was such a great feeling to really close that chapter.  It’s not like he and I had some deep relationship.  But what was special for me was getting the opportunity to ask any question that was in my head.  And having a man be open and honest.  It felt… GROWN.  “McDreamy” will forever go down in my books as one of the most honest and upfront men.  Oh yeah, and fine too.

So I got over that hurdle.  And then a few weeks ago I wrote a post, When the Boss is Away (here’s the original-  That’s when it hit home that men… straight men were reading my blog.  I was at a party and ran into a friend of mine.  He said, Dang you really called old boy out.  I hope his wife isn’t reading your blog.  Then later on that same day I was on Facebook and commented on an old high school friend’s post.  His response.  Watch out… Russell might be coming for you LOL!

That’s when I freaked out.  I called my girlfriend and told her what happened.

Girlfriend #1:  Well guuuurl, I can’t lie to you.  If I was a guy and had someone I wanted to introduce you to, I would probably think twice.  Put the shoe on the other foot.  What if a guy wrote about the women he dated would you want to introduce him to your friend?

Me:  I don’t know it depends on what he writes.  Shit, it’s not like I’m Superhead and writing about some crazy sex shit.

Girlfriends #1:  I know.  But I’m just saying.

Then I called another friend.  Because of course like every good patient you have to get a second opinion.  Besides I figured I would get a married friends take on the situation.

Girlfriend #2:  I didn’t think about that.  But that’s a good point.  A lot of men might not like it.  But I love it.  It’S my weekend reading.  I told you I even showed it to my husband.

Me:  Well what did your husband say?

Girlfriend #2:  (long awkward pause)  Uh…

Me:  Well, what did he say?

Girlfriend #2:  Well, he said, why in the hell would she write about that?

Me:  Oh my God!  Oh my God.  This blog is going to be the cause of me becoming an Old Maid.  I’m shutting it down.

Girlfriend #2:  Are you crazy?!  Why in the hell would you shut it down?  It’s entertaining.  You can’t do that!

Me:  I gotta call you back.

I hung up the phone and went downstairs and grabbed my mega goblet and poured a humungous glass of a 2009 Cabernet I was saving for a special occasion.  I figured this was the best occasion.  Clearly I wouldn’t be sharing it with my second husband because I would never have another husband because I am writing a blog.  I tried to watch TV but still couldn’t concentrate.  And just like clockwork my phone rang and it was my mother.  Sometimes I think that she has video cameras installed in my house.  She always seems to call when I am having moments of major self doubt.  I told her what happened.

Mom:  Well that’s good, you want people to read it.  I told you some of my friends have even shared it with their husbands.

Me: But mommy, I never thought men would read this.  What if I meet a guy I really like and he finds out about the blog?  Then what?  He might leave me.

Mom:  Why in the hell would you want to be with a man that would leave you over something so stupid.  The right man will support you in all your dreams.  I keep telling you really need to develop a tougher skin. 

Me:  I know, I know. 

After 4 or 5 more phone calls to various people with the same opinions I still didn’t feel fully exonerated.  Over the next week I tried to write.  But I couldn’t get the words out.  I was second guessing myself every step of the way.  Everything I wrote seemed forced all because I wasn’t being true to myself.  You see, when I write my posts I give it my all.  I am fully genuine and authentic.  I do not pretend to be a dating expert because I am not.  I also do not write about any guy I am currently dating or really like.  But the sudden steam I had when I started the blog suddenly evaporated and I questioned whether or not to go on.  There is a point in everyone’s life where they come to a cross roads.  I was at this cross roads.  I could either shut the blog down or finish what I started and keep going down this path of uncertainty.  That’s when my girlfriend called back.


“You need to think of yourself as writing the soundtrack of dating. Get out of your own way.”

Girlfriend #1:  I thought about our conversation.

Me:  You did?

Girlfriend #1:  You have to get out of your own way.

Me:  I know, but I am beginning to question everything. 

Girlfriend #1:  How do you think we came to grow and love Mary J. Blige?  She wrote songs about her own experiences and they were from the heart.  That’s why we love her.

Me:  I never thought about it like that.  To be honest I miss the bitter 90’s Mary J. Blige.  I liked when she wrote about heartbreak.

Girlfriend #1:  Exactly.  Songwriters don’t second guess themselves. 

Me:  That’s true.

Girlfriend #1:  You need to think of yourself as writing the soundtrack of dating.  Get out of your own way.


If full exposure means I am misbehaved. Well damn it, let me continue to write my place in “his-tory” or as I like to call it… “She-tory.” I will continue to stay fully exposed….

I got off the phone with her and began to see a small peak of light at the end of the tunnel.  I thought back to when I was dating my ex-husband and our marriage.  At that time I gave up a lot of things to make him happy.  Things that were important to me.  And here I was about to fall into the same pattern over an imaginary man I hadn’t even met!  I was about to sacrifice my creativity and something I was truly enjoying just so that I could be more “appealing” to someone who didn’t quite exist.  How many times have we as women done that?  How many times have we sacrificed our own needs and our own desires all so that we could appease someone who wasn’t worthy?  That when I made the decision to keep going.  I would never ever allow myself to not be true to who I am.  Some people may read my blog and say, “This bitch is crazy! Why is she writing about this?  I hope she doesn’t tell everything.”  There might be men out there who are secretly reading this and think, “I would never let my wife/girlfriend have a blog… I thought she was cool but I don’t want to date her because she might write about me.”  Well damn it; don’t give me shit to write about!  Perhaps read this and learn what not to do.  At the end of the day I am going to finish what I started.  All I can do is be honest, genuine, and authentic.  If it entertains, great, if someone learns something or it just makes them laugh through a difficult time like a divorce or a relationship ending then even better.  All I can say is that Confessions of a Serial Dater in LA is here to stay.  I recently came across a quote.  “Well behaved women rarely make history.”  If full exposure means I am misbehaved.  Well damn it, let me continue to write my place in “his-tory” or as I like to call it… “She-tory.”  I will continue to stay fully exposed….
Monique K.Bradley



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