If It Walks Like An Ass, Talks Like An Ass, Looks Like An Ass… It’s An Asshole! Part 1

Disclaimer:  If you are a man who is born and raised in Carson, CA or anywhere close to that area.  Please do NOT read this post.  You will be offended…  

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I get so tired of TV shows, movies, books, etc. making it seem like it is so hard for a black woman to meet a man and go on a damn date. That is absolute bullshit. And some Simpletons are actually buying into that foolishness. STOP!

It was nice to have a little break and have a little bit of consistency with one person.  But then again, a part of me missed the excitement and the newness of meeting someone new.  I am keenly aware this is only because the last person really wasn’t the right person.  I must believe that when it’s right it’s right.  If I’ve said it once I have said it time and time again.  I get so tired of TV shows, movies, books, etc. making it seem like it is so hard for a black woman to meet a man and go on a damn date.  That is absolute bullshit.  And some Simpletons are actually buying into that foolishness.  STOP!  Going on dates is the easy part.  Meeting your soul mate, well that’s a different story.  If you’re willing to be patient and have faith along the journey you will meet the right man.  All in due time.  Anyway, I am already digressing.

I was set up on a set up last weekend.  My close girlfriend and her fiance were having a fight party at their house.  When I arrived at their home and they let me through the gates I noticed a beautiful Range Rover sitting in their drive way.  When my friend and her husband both came out to greet me I was excited for my friend.  I assumed in addition to the massive diamond engagement ring her fiance got her, and the beautiful new home that reminded me of a resort they just moved into he had also bought her a brand new shiny white range rover with cream navy trimmed seats and wood paneling.

Me:  Bitch!!! I see you got a new car!

Girlfriend:  No that’s not mine, it’s your man’s.

Me:  My what?

Girlfriend’s Fiance:  I have someone I want you to meet inside.

Me:  Oh boy!  He better not be a fool.

Girlfriend’s Fiance:  Now let me be clear.  I just met him recently.  But he seems like a cool guy.  Let’s see what happens.

Girlfriend:  Exactly.  No pressure. 

That’s all part of being single, the match making attempts by your well meaning friends.  And I didn’t mind.  It’s always nice for a man to come with references.  I remember them mentioning him a few weeks ago.  “Jerold” was a 46 year old, divorced sports agent.  He was married for 15 years and had two kids.  According to my girlfriend’s fiance he was looking to get married again and he was definitely interested in having more kids.  After the last guy I dated I realized if I was going to date a man in his 40’s who had children of a certain age.  I needed to know upfront if he was open to having kids.  Just a side note for any man who is being nosy and reading my blog, if you do not want to have any more kids or if there is a shadow of a doubt that you want to have kids.  Then you do not get the luxury of dating a woman who is younger than you who does not have any children.  It’s downright selfish and ignorant.  Seriously, you get to have your family and you have the audacity to think that you can convince a woman who does not have children not to have kids of her own?  Have several seats!  There I go digressing again!

They figured meeting him at their fight party would be less pressure that I straight up blind date.  This way I could see him in his environment and observe him from a distance.  Now that was a great idea.  When you’re meeting a guy on a blind set up there are a few thoughts that cross a woman’s mind.

1-       I hope this man is somewhat attractive.

2-      I hope he speaks in complete sentences.

3-      I hope this man isn’t a fool.

4-      I hope I haven’t already met this man before and turned his ass down.

These thoughts crossed my mind as I walked into my girlfriend’s massive beautiful home. I sat down the wine and sweet potato pies I baked in the kitchen.   I looked up and there was “Jerold.”  He was about 5’10, stocky (luckily he didn’t have a massive gut), with a low fade.  His nails were a little too buffed out.  I would prefer that a man’s manicure not look like he had on clear nail polish (that’s just a shallow side note).  My girlfriend’s fiancée introduced us.  He smiled and it revealed silver braces. He had on a nice button down lavender shirt, with “diamond” cuff links and his full name (first and last name) monogrammed on the cuffs of the shirt, snake skin loafers, and jeans.   I put my hand out to shake his hand.  “Jerold” pulled me towards him and gave me a big hug.

JeroldI don’t do handshakes.  I’m a hugger.

As he hugged me he buried his nose in my neck.

Jerold:  You smell good.  What kind of perfume is that?

I told him.  (I’m not revealing my secret perfume so a bunch of people start walking around smelling like me :-)).  He saw my sweet potato pies and his eyes lit up.

Jerold:  Did you make these?

Me:  I did, from scratch. 

Jerold:  Your man must love your cooking.

I attempted not to roll my eyes at the sheer corniness.  And he had a big smile on his face which exposed his mouth full of braces again.  Has he never heard of Invisilign?!  But my inner loving diva kicked in, Don’t be a bitch.  He’s just trying to break the ice.  Besides you always said you want a man that is well groomed.  At least he’s trying to get his teeth fixed.  I took a deep calming breath and decided to be open minded.

Me:  Well, I’m actually single.

Jerold:  I guess today is my luck day.

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Well, what if a woman doesn’t need your help and she has her own shit. Then what?

I just smiled.  When the guys left the kitchen I told my girlfriend to pour me a glass of wine IMMEDIATELY.  Sometimes a slight buzz can make any situation better.  Actually I think that is always the case!  I grabbed a plate of food and made my way into the living room where the two other couples were sitting and chowed down.  Of course they set it up where I had to sit next to “Jerold.”  So I decided to make the best of the situation.  “Jerold” was born and raised in… Carson.  YUCK!  That was a complete turn off.  My ex was from there.  And had I nothing good to say about that area.  It’s essentially two traffic lights from Compton.  And generally speaking people who are from there think that they aren’t from the hood because it’s not Compton.  But when you’re spitting distance from the hood, well, you’re from the hood.  I damn near broke out in hives when he said that.  But I was trying to be open.  My inner loving diva chimed in, “Not all people from Carson are ignorant, close minded, fronting wannabes like your ex…  Breathe.”  I also looked over at my girlfriend who knew me so well and she winked and tilted her glass of wine as a signalfor me to have a sip and relax.  Then “Jerold” informed us that Monday was his birthday.

Me:  That’s exciting, what do you have planned?

Jerold:  Originally I was supposed to be in Europe.

ME:  Oh really which part?

Jerold:  I was starting off in Paris and then heading over to London.

Me:  Two of my favorite cities.  I used to live in London.

Jerold:  Which part?

Me:  Camden Town.  When are you leaving? 

Jerold:  The trip got postponed to the end of next week.

Me:  So what are you going to do for your birthday now that you’ll be on town?

Jerold:  I don’t know yet where would you like me to take you?

Me:  You’re going to take ME out for YOUR birthday?  That’s very nice of you.

Jerold:  We should go to Nobu in Malibu.

Alright now, things were looking up!  I could over look a railroad on someone’s teeth and over the top “diamond” cuff links for a man with good taste in restaurants.  Braces eventually come off and I can tweak the hell out of a wardrobe!

Jerold:  Let me call my driver so I can make arrangements for us to get picked up.

Jerold then took out his phone and proceeded to dial his driver right then and there on SPEAKERPHONE!

Jerold:  My man, what’s up?

Driver:  Who’s calling?

Jerold: It’s me, Jerold.

Driver:  How can I help you?

Jerold:  It’s my birthday on Monday and I’m gonna need two pickups.

Driver:  Okay, just send me the details.  It will be an extra charge for the additional pick ups. 

Jerold:  Have you ever had a problem with payment?

Driver:  Huh?

Jerold:  You just said there was gonna be an extra charge.  You know my money is riiiiight.  I got you covered.

 

The driver hung up.  And I sat there so turned off.  Was I supposed to be impressed?  Did he not realize I used a car service on the regular basis?  And to make the call on speaker phone?  Really?  Typical LA guy.  Typical fronting Carson guy!  But I didn’t want to generalize.  The fight was over and as usual when it is a group of men and women the conversation quickly turned to relationships.  My girlfriend’s fiance was one of those men who enjoyed deep grown and sexy conversations.  “Jerold” started talking about his divorce.

Jerold:  My divorce cost my over $1M.  My problem is I have a tendency to pick women who are like projects.

I swear my head spinned around in a complete 360 full turn like the fucking Exorcist.

Me:  What do you mean by projects?

Jerold:  You know what I mean.  Women who don’t really know what they want in life.  I help them find their potential.  With the young lady I dated recently she wanted to start a clothing line so I helped her out.  She just needed someone to recognize her potential and go from there.

Me:  Well, what if a woman doesn’t need your help and she has her own shit.  Then what?

Jerold:  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’m looking for a woman who needs to be guided.  At this point I want a woman who has her own shit together.  I’m like show me a credit report.  If her shit ain’t on point I’m not taking it on.

Then my girlfriend’s fiance piped in.

Girlfriend’s Fiance:  Wait a minute my man.  You’re kind of contradicting yourself.

Jerold:  How so?

Girlfriends Fiance   In one breath you’re saying you have a tendency to take on projects to help a woman find their potential.  But right before that you said if a woman’s credit isn’t together you wouldn’t deal with her at all?  That doesn’t make sense.  If you love someone you are going to try to help them reach their full potential my man.

Jerold:  No that’s not what I meant.  I’m just saying I’m all about helping someone reach their potential.  I just don’t want to be in a situation where they don’t have shit and I’m doing ll the work.

That’s the thing about having these healthy debates with other men.  They will ask the questions you want to know and check someone n a heartbeat if they aren’t making sense.  I got to sit back and listen to what this fool had to say.  My girlfriend’s fiance was like a brother and he knew exactly what he was doing.  He was gathering information for me!  I love when my friends marry men who have some damn sense!!!!  We talked for a few more hours about relationships and life.  “Jerold” was contradicting himself left and right.  The night was coming to an end I was helping my girlfriend clear up the kitchen.

Girlfriend:  What did you think?  And before you answer, let me be clear, we don’t really know him too well.  My honey just met him a few weeks ago and you know he got all excited when he found out he was single.  He’s ready for us to take trips together and do double dates!

Me:  What was up with calling his driver on speaker phone?  What the fuck was that?

Girlfriend:  I know! 

Me:  See that’s that New Money shit that I can’t tolerate.  AND he’s from Carson?!

Girlfriend:  I know you wanted to die.

Me:  You know I did.  Last time I went out with someone from Carson, I discovered they changed the numbers on their Mercedes so instead of the numbers reading  S430 which was already a nice car it said S500 just so he could front.  Of course I found that out after I was already married to his dumb ass.

Girlfriend:  I know!  I know!  But just be open.  He was just trying to impress you.  You know the problem is a lot of these LA bitches are impressed by shit like that and men feel the need to keep doing that kind of shit thinking that it will impress all of us. 

Me:  Okay.  I’m going to be open about this.  We will see.  Something just isn’t adding up.  I can’t put my finger on it.  But my antenna is definitely up.  

My girlfriend and I had a good laugh and then of course the inevitable came.  “Jerold” was heading out and asked for my phone number.  Good Lawd.  I reluctantly gave it to him.  About an hour later he sent me a text.

Jerold: Hey MK!  Great meeting you.  Had a blast.  Gotta pick up where we left off.

Me:  Nice meeting you as well. 

TO BE CONTINUED

 

 
Monique K.Bradley

 

 

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

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The Real Housewife of New Jersey

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I walked all around the grocery store, which was crowded with mothers and their children. Mostly bad ass out of control children.

The last few weeks have been interesting.  I have been back in New Jersey for almost 3 weeks.  Being back home I have been removed from the hustle and bustle of life in LA and have been living in the burbs a.k.a The Suburbs  Don’t worry, I will be back in LA soon…  Time in the burbs as a single woman from the city of LA makes you acutely aware that you are single.  The timing of this is quite interesting.  For the last few months I have been embracing my singledom.  I realized how much I enjoy my “me” time and dating myself.  I can get up and go without having to consult with anyone or make arrangements.  I can go out randomly on a Tuesday night.  I can have cereal for dinner.  I sleep in the middle of my bed and most importantly I can hold onto my remote control land flip through Lifetime, Bravo, Oxygen, and the Style Network.  When I actually think about it, my TV’s have never seen the likes of ESPN.  I think it might cause a power surge and cause my TV to become defective.  I go out with whomever I want whenever I want.  But most of all I am truly enjoying my “Me” time.  At the end of the day, I recommend all single women take the time to “date” themselves.  If you have no idea what you want on your own, how can you bring a partner in and be able to articulate all of your needs?  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of these bitter single bitches who are like, I don’t need a man…”   Oh trust me, I definitely want and need a man (the right one) and embrace the idea of meeting my true life partner and living “happily ever after.”  But until I meet the right guy I will not rush into the wrong situation.

Anyway, I digressed…  For the last weeks I had officially become a New Jersey Housewife (minus the husband).   I don’t know how single women who live in the suburbs do it!  Damn, it’s rough.  I went to the grocery in the middle of the day and it was packed.  You would think it was a holiday weekend.  It was a Tuesday at 1pm.  I was looking all around the parking lot for a spot.  I got excited when I finally found a spot close to the front of the store.  Only to notice the sign in front of the spot that read: Parking for Customers with Children.   What the fuck???  I noticed a parking spot on the opposite side and the sign in front of that spot read: Reserved for Expectant Mothers.  Damn!  So already I am being penalized for not having children and/or not having a bun in the oven.  Thank goodness I have high self esteem or else that could have easily sent me over the edge.  When I walked all around the grocery store, which was crowded with mothers and their children.  Mostly bad ass out of control children and mothers with the biggest diamond sparkly rocks you could imagine.  Oh how I missed the flashiness/borderline gaudiness of my home state.  I still have left over remnants of the gaudiness.  I was damn near drooling over the rings.  You can take the girl outta of Jersey but you’ll never take the Jersey outta me!  I quickly broke out of my day dream mode when  I couldn’t find the wine section.  I finally located someone who worked there.  A young teenager who was probably using Pro-Active.

Me:  Where is the wine section?

Teenage Worker:  Uhhhhh… we don’t sell wine here.

Me:  Excuse me? (The thought of not having my wine for the week sent me into a minor panic attack.  As a matter of fact the thought of not ending my day with a chilled glass of Sauvignon Blanc caused a slight case of hives).
 
Teenage Worker:  You’re going to have to go to the liquor store across the street.
 

How could I have forgotten in my home town state (and a lot of other states) you can not purchase liquor and wine outside of a liquor store?  It’s some stupid ass law.  It’s inconvenient as hell too.  I wasn’t about to lose my spot in Bumblefuck.  So I bought my groceries and hightailed my ass to the liquor store and bought a case of Sauvignon Blanc.

Annoyed 2

Being in the burbs there are also the questions/ interrogations I get from well meaning folks about my dating life… Each of these innocent questions are always asked and when I give them my answers I feel the slight look of pity.

Being in the burbs there are also the questions/ interrogations I get from well meaning folks about my dating life.  If you are a faithful reader of this blog you know one of my biggest peeves is when people ask me the following questions which I was asked at least 3 times a day:

Are you dating?

Me:  I’m dating everyone.

Are you seeing anyone special?

Me:  Nope. 

Is it hard dating in LA?

Me:  It is.  But I think it’s hard dating anywhere.  The only difference is in LA you really have to be true to who you are so you don’t get caught up in the hype.

Don’t worry you’ll meet the right guy when you least expect it.

My Inner Monologue:  Get the fuck outta here.  All single women are constantly looking for the right man.  They may not admit it but they do!  How the hell are you going to find MR. Right if you aren’t looking.

Each of these innocent questions are always asked and when I give them my answers I feel the slight look of pity.  What most married women do not admit is they secretly are terrified for their single friends because they know how hard it is to find the right guy.  How do I know this?  I was once married and please know and believe I had conversations with other married women at the time.  Why do you think so many women stay in shitty marriages (myself was once included in this statistic).  Some women are so afraid of being alone they would rather stay in a loveless marriage. What they don’t realize is being alone and married is far worse than being alone and single.

There is also going to a party or a BBQ in the burbs as the single woman.  You are normally greeted with looks of Who is this bitch?  You have to be keenly aware of the outfit you wear, who you talk to, and the amount of time you are spending talking to them.  Some of these housewives (again, I use the word SOME) are intimidated by an attractive single women they do not know who suddenly shows up to a BBQ and is speaking to their husband.  Even a simple request like, Excuse me, can you pass the mustard.  Can get a side eye from the wife.  9/10 you aren’t even interested in the man even if he wasn’t married.  But in their minds you are a threat.  I typically stick to the rule of only talking to the guy in a group setting.  If we innocently happen to be at the cooler at the same time getting a drink I immediately will get my drink and scurry off.  For some reason in LA I am not typically as worried about this.  There is a different mentality in a city verse the burbs.  The housewives typically think there is a hidden agenda, and that usually doesn’t have shit to do with you.  It is something that is an internal flaw or insecurity in their relationship with their husband.

Jealous WOman

Going to a party or a BBQ in the burbs as the single woman. You are normally greeted with looks of Who is this bitch? Even a simple request like, Excuse me, can you pass the mustard. Can get a side eye from the wife.

After my 2 weeks of living the New Jersey Housewife life, I needed a break.  Don’t get me wrong, it gave me a greater appreciation of my singledom.  But as I drove over the Ben Franklin Bridge and parked my car in Philadelphia, the city of Brotherly Love.  I went to Rouge and got a table in the window.  I ordered a strong cocktail.  I needed a break from my typical wine.  My thoughts began to run rapidly.  I think when we are single we spend so much time wondering what our life would look like once we are in a relationship.  We envision what we think that will look like, how much “better” our lives would be.  We imagine what our future children will look like (I know I’m not the only woman who will look through a magazine and see a picture of a cute baby with caramel skin and think, That’s what my son will look like).  It is so easy to get caught up in the what will BE instead of living in the what it IS.  Spending this time as a Real Housewife of New Jersey, I realize that I am not the suburbia kind of women.  I definitely want a marriage and I most certainly want kids, but I do not want to give up the life I have for the life I want.  Is there any way the two can co-exist?  Am I being realistic about my expectations?  I was once in a marriage where I attempted to become the person my ex husband wanted me to be and I lost myself and I lost who I was.  Now that I finally found ME I embraced ME.  I realized all my quirks, insecurities, and pet peeves made me vulnerable and I was loving that.  I never wanted to lose sight of that.  Being vulnerable is actually a good thing at times.  Just when I was beginning to doubt the possibility of having the two things I most wanted (the present me and the future me) God always has a way of speaking to you.  A couple who had to be in their late 30’s early 40’s walked into Rouge.  They had a great style to them.  They were casual but had an effortless style to them.  The women pushed in a stroller and the man was holding the hand of his son who had to be at least 4 years old.  I normally would have rolled my eyes when a couple came into a place like Rouge with children worrying that my moment of solitude would be interrupted by a loud crying ass baby but this time I was not annoyed.  They sat at a table close to me in the window and the women put the baby into a high chair.  The man put his son into a booster seat.  The couple gave each other a kiss.  He whispered something in her ear and she laughed and looked him in the eyes lovingly.  When the waiter came over the man ordered a bottle of Cabernet for he and his wife.  This hip couple sat with their kids and had their bottle of wine.  They seemed to have such a connection between the two of them.  They not only were married but they seemed to be… Friends.  And that’s when it clicked.  All this time I have been looking for something but not exactly sure what it was.  At the end of the day when you look for someone who is your friend first everything else will fall into place.  He won’t try to put you into a box and you won’t try to tie him down.

Happy Black Family

For a second I imagined myself with my future hubby and my kids chilling at a restaurant and enjoying our family time. Looking at that family made me realize it is possible for your present and future to coexist.

For a second I imagined myself with my future hubby and my kids chilling at a restaurant and enjoying our family time.  Looking at that family made me realize it is possible for your present and future to coexist.  In order to be who you are going to be, you don’t have to change who you are.  It is possible.  As I made my way back over the bridge in to the burbs, I had to make a pit stop at the grocery store.  As I passed the spot that was right in the front that was reserved for the Customer with Kids and was forced to park in West Bumblefuck I didn’t roll my yes or get mad.  Instead I parked my single ass there took my long ass walk into the grocery and embraced my temporary life as a New Jersey Housewife.  When I was in line with my two items, a lady who was there with her three kids (all under 5) stood behind me trying to tame her wild out of control kids.  I looked back at her, smiled and told her to go in front of me.  She was so grateful and thanked me a million times as she unloaded her full cart and tried to gain control over her bad ass kids.  You see, it’s also possible for the single city girl and the Suburban Housewife to co-exist as well.

 

 

 

 

Monique K.Bradley

 

 

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

Cinderella and the Size 11 Glass Slipper….

Glass Slippers

Cinderella and the Size 11 Glass Slipper….

Weddings…  They just bring out the best in people.  They make you believe it is possible to love and be loved.  I recently made a pact with myself that I would not attend any weddings of couples that I felt would not last or were getting married for the wrong reasons.  When I got the invite for my girlfriends wedding taking place in the Santa Barbara wine country in the middle of a beautiful vineyard, it wasn’t just the location that excited me.  But this was a girlfriend who was marrying a man that made her smile.  He enhanced her already full life.  And when you were around the two of them you felt the mutual adoration and genuine authentic love that made me believe marriage the second time around was so much better!  After a touching ceremony, my favorite part of a wedding began.  The reception!  This reception was better than most because it had a plethora of amazing wines.   And there was an endless amount.  I didn’t have to drive and I was amongst friends who were wine lovers and there was no judgment of amount of consumption that any of us were having.  In every wedding reception there is always the inevitable…  The singles table.  Having been married before and tasked with organizing a wedding, I know there is a lot of thought that goes into the seating arrangements.  My ex and I spent endless hours trying to figure out where to seat people based on personalities, common interest, and marital status when we were planning our $100K wedding (I will dedicate a blog to that one day… maybe… it might deserve a book).  Anyway I digressed…  My point is, couples do not just throw a bunch of names in a hat and randomly pick names out and seat them at a table.  A lot of thought goes into this process.  I was curious to see where my girlfriend decided to seat me for her wedding.  And she did a great job.  It was definitely the lively fun table.  There was a mixture of couples and singles.  Here was no pressure just people there to have a good time.  I knew all of the people at the table so I knew it was going to be a fun night.  A gentleman sat to next to me who I didn’t know.  He clearly knew my crew so I assumed he must be an out of town guest.  He introduced himself to me and made a wise crack (can’t remember what he said) but I felt like I was sitting next to the male version of me.  He was charming, funny, and kept pouring the wine.  “Rasan” was in business development.  He lived between NY and LA.  Now let me be very clear here.  We just happened to sit next to each other.  It wasn’t some romantic feeling like the music stopped and I thought I met the “one.”  This wedding reception was a true paaaaartay!  So all the guests were on the dance floor having a good time.  A few times we happened to dance together.  It was just fun all around.

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He introduced himself to me and made a wise crack (can’t remember what he said) but I felt like I was sitting next to the male version of me. He was charming, funny, and kept pouring the wine.

Not only was there a popping wedding reception but there was also an after party as well.  After having a round of lemon drop shots the night was definitely off to a great start.  Not to mention the DJ was playing an abundance of Prince and Michael Jackson.  But with all the drinking and partying my size 11 feet needed to have a break.  And I am not one too dance barefoot.  No judgment for people who do.  But it must be the Leo in me or the Diva in me, but I am not the chick who is comfortable being that comfortable in public.  So I sat my ass down, had a glass of water, and cooled off.  “Rasan” came and sat next to me a few minutes later.  And we spent the next 2 hours talking about relationships, weddings, life, business, and anything and everything else under the sun. (some things we discussed I will leave between me and “Rasan” see… for all you nosey ass men out there reading my blog I don’t tell everything!)  He had a great sense of humor, and I enjoyed his company.  My ride to the wedding gave me a single she was ready to go.  I assumed (there goes that damn word ASS-U-ME) he was going to ask me for my number when he saw we were getting ready to go…  He didn’t.  So I went to hug everyone goodbye and make my way out.  Of course as I hugged my various friends a few whispered, “What’s up with you and Rasan?” Talk about pressure.  Can’t two people of the opposite sex sit down and have conversation without people thinking it is going to lead to something?!  Although in my own mind I ASS-U-ME-D he would at least ask for my number since we had this great conversation.  As I was leaving I saw he was talking to one of his friends and it’s not like he went out of his way to ask for my number.  And I am not a desperate bitch who is going to go out of my way to get his.  I mean really…. We talked for 2 damn hours.  How in the world is he going to monopolize my time for 2 hours and not ask for my number?!  What the fuck?  I was slightly annoyed.  Note to the nosey ass men reading my blog:  NEVER monopolize a women’s time for hours on end and not close the deal!  That is just…. RUDE!  2 Hours?  I could have been talking to someone else!

When my girlfriend and I got in the car the conversation began.

Girlfriend:  It looks like you and Rasan were in deep conversation.  SO what’s the deal?

Me:  I have no idea.  He didn’t ask for my number.

My girlfriend slammed on her brakes and looked at me like I had two heads.

Girlfriend:  What?  You’re lying!

Me:  I wish I was.

Girlfriend:  But he was talking to you all night.  I don’t get it.

Me:  Me neither.  I definitely expressed interest.  Did he expect me to through my panties at him to let him know I was interested?!  Maybe he was waiting for right before I left.  Did I leave too soon?

Girlfriend:  I don’t think so.  I gave you the single 30 minutes before we were leaving out.  He had all night to ask you.

Me:  I’m so confused!  Maybe I left too soon…

Girlfriend:  Do you want to go back? 

Me:  HELL NAW!!!  That’s what I ain’t gon’ do!  (all the wine and lemon drop shots were beginning to take effect and my otherwise proper English was becoming straight up Jersey shore)

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Girlfriend: Do you want to go back?
Me: HELL NAW!!! That’s what I ain’t gon’ do! (all the wine and lemon drop shots were beginning to take effect and my otherwise proper English was becoming straight up Jersey shore)

The next week “Rasan” crossed my mind a few times.  I began to wonder if I had left too soon.  It just wasn’t making sense that we didn’t exchange numbers.  He was definitely single, the convo was certainly good, and we seemed to have some things in common.  How many times has that happened?  Where you meet a guy, you think you were vibing and then nothing.  What happens to these guys?  Do they disappear into dating purgatory?  You’re left wondering… did I not give him enough of clues that I was interested… Did I leave too soon… Should I have just given him my number and wait for him to call?  All that second guessing!

The following weekend I ended up going to a party with my friends.  A lot of the same people from the wedding were there.  Of course I got a few questions…

What happened with you and Rasan?  I saw y’all talking.

Me:  Nothing.  He didn’t ask for my number.

I was greeted with responses of horror.  No one seemed to get it.  There were a few theories (which I won’t go into detail on).  I was on my way out of the party and my friend had to make a quick trip to the ladies room.  As I waited for her, I looked around the club.  I was kind of bored and it had been such a long week I was certainly ready to go home.  I looked to the far right and guess whose eyes I caught… “Rasan.”  That’s the thing about LA.  When you roll in certain crowds there are only 2 degrees of separation not 6.  He made his way over to me.  He gave me a hug.

Rasan:  What’s up Cinderella?

Me:  How are you?

Rasan:  I felt like you had left the reception and I was left holding your glass slipper before I could ask for your number.

Me:  Well, I was confused.  All week I was wondering what the hell happened!

Rasan:  You left so quickly.

Me:  We were talking for 2 hours I figured once you saw me leaving you would ask for my number.

Rasan:  Well let’s exchange them now before you disappear again.

With that “Rasan” and I exchanged numbers.  He walked me and my friend to the car.  And he sent me a text later that night.

I’m glad I ran into you.  I don’t go out to clubs much but your girl told me you would be here and I thought I would take a chance and run into you.

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I looked to the far right and guess whose eyes I caught… Okay. So I wasn’t a complete and total moron. He was interested.

 

Okay.  So I wasn’t a complete and total moron.  He was interested.  The next day we exchanged texts throughout the afternoon.  A little bit of a turn off but I am trying not to be so quick to drop men too soon.  Around 7:20 that evening he sent me a text.

Rasan:  Some friends and I are out bowling.  Do you want to come through?

Now I am not one that sticks with rules too often.  However, I know he didn’t ask me out to meet with him at 7:20.  Did he think I was just going to jump up and roll through?  My time is valuable.  You don’t ask a woman to meet up with you the same day and expect her to arrive in the next 30 minutes.  I felt like a…. After thought.  This was beginning to look like a pattern.  From him not asking for my number to him asking me to hang out at the last minute.  I can’t even say he was asking me out on date.  I don’t do well with dating ambiguity.  I had to make sure my response didn’t show my utter annoyance.

Me:  To be honest, I am an awful bowler.  As a matter of fact I would probably cause you and your friends to lose points.  I def would like to hang with you but I am still recuperating from the weekend so let’s try to get together another time.

Rasan:  Alright cool.

He sent me a few texts here and there. But we just didn’t end up vibing.  And because I consider “Rasan” a guy who will be a friend (not on a romantic level) I have to respect our private conversations and can’t go into detail on them.

book-burning

That’s why I suggest all women who have purchased that stupid ass book and movie, He’s Just Not That Into You to burn it. This is a man who has made millions making women feel inadequate because it insinuates there is something wrong with you that is causing a man to not respond or like you and that is pure unadulterated BULLSHIT!

 

I know you all are probably thinking…  Well damn… bitch!  Why the fuck are you even bothering writing this post?  Sometimes it’s okay to leave Prince Charming holding the glass slipper instead of your broken heart.  How many times, have we as women, met a guy and for whatever reason he didn’t respond in the way we thought he would and we automatically start wondering, What’s wrong with ME?  What did I do wrong?  What could I have done differently?  Maybe he wasn’t attracted to ME?  Lots of times when a man doesn’t respond the way you think he should it doesn’t have shit to do with you, it is all on him.  It doesn’t make him a bad guy but for whatever reason he might be going through something in his life where he can’t respond in the way that you want him to and it has nothing to do with you.  In the case of “Rasan” he was not responding to me in the way I thought he should NOT because he wasn’t into me, but because he had other stuff he had going on that didn’t have anything to do with me.  That’s why I suggest all women who have purchased that stupid ass book and movie, He’s Just Not That Into You to burn it.  This is a man who has made millions making women feel inadequate because it insinuates there is something wrong with you that is causing a man to not respond or like you and that is pure unadulterated BULLSHIT!  That book has fucked up so many women’s self esteem.  Sometimes a guy can be into you but the timing isn’t right.  Sometimes it is okay to leave Prince Charming holding that damn glass slipper.  The thing about glass slippers are with pressure, expectations, and assumptions… they break.  So how about going out to Neiman Marcus and getting a brand new pair that can handle all of you and won’t break under pressure and be ready for the KING you are meant to meet.

Monique K.Bradley

 

 

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

The Sponsorship Package

nightclub

I confess… in my 20’s I was a party girl. No surprise there.

What an exhausting week!  Whenever there is an Awards Show taking place in LA it is easy to wear yourself out going to all the various events and parties.  This past weekend was no different.  By the time Saturday rolled around I could not move out of my bed.  I literally stayed in the bed watching Lifetime and Bravo all day with the exception of heading out to Trader Joe’s to pick up a bottle of Kono Sauvignon Blanc (one of the best wines for a great price).  How in the world did I allow myself to run out of a bottle?!  Anyway, I digressed.  I had an interesting interaction with a blast from the past over the weekend.  And it stayed heavily on my mind.  I met “Sharon” shortly after I moved to LA.  I was 23 at the time.  “Sharon” never divulged her age.  I suspect she was in her late 30’s when I met her back then.  We met at a party at The Gate.  I confess… in my 20’s I was a party girl.  No surprise there.  Now let me elaborate on that because in this day and age when you say “Party Girl” people envision Lindsey Lohan, snorting drugs, and doing all kinds of crazy shit.  That is certainly not what I mean.  For me, I went out 5 days a week.  I looked forward to Thursday nights at The Gate and Sunday nights at The Garden of Eden.  Back when I was in my 20’s those were the Black Hollywood hot spots.  I knew all the bouncers.  There’s nothing more exhilarating for a 20 year to walk past a long line and hug the bouncers as they opened the red velvet rope to allow you access to the hottest party in town.  The Door Men in LA are treated like “Gods.”  They have the “power” to elevate your social status or send you into a depression by not letting you in.  I have seen it happen on many occasions.  A young girl who might be slightly overweight or unattractive gets dissed at the door.  To give someone that kind of power is astonishing.  These men are just Door Men.  Get the fuck outta here!  Looking back on it now it is so damn silly.  I would go out and get home around 3am in the morning and be up for work the next day at 8:30 and not miss a beat.  If I did that shit now I would pass out.  I had complimented “Sharon” on her fabulous Manolo Blahnik shoes.  When we discovered we both wore a size 11 we instantly bonded.  We Big Feet girls have to stick together.
Me:  I have looked all over for a size 11 in those shoes!  (I failed to mention even during the Neiman Marcus yearly sale at the reduced price of $250 my budget still could not afford it at that time)

Sharon:  Oh honey, I have to get my shoes customized! 

Me:  How much did those cost to get them custom?

Sharon:  Just $1200.

Me:  Go guuuuurl!

Sharon:  We big feet girls gotta stick together.  I have a table you should come over and join us for a drink.

With that I followed “Sharon” to the VIP section of the club.  She happened to be with a very famous real estate developer in LA.  There were endless bottles of Perrier Joulet Champagne.  I was in a sea of fake hair, oversized breast implants, skin tight short dresses, overly plumped lips, and ridiculously made up faces.  The club scene in LA comprises of various categories of women.  Actually this is LA in generally inside and outside of the club.

Draya

The Video Vixen

The Video Vixen

These are the women who make a living out of showing off their ASS-ets.  Typically they had their first child in high school and have another child with an unsuspecting rookie star athlete.  They have the long weaves, big asses and breasts with a tiny waistline.  They know they have Coke bottle bodies and make it a point to show it off. They roll with a crew of Video Vixens and typically know all the athletes and rappers in the club.  They are constantly on the grind to be featured in the next hot new video.  Refer to Draya from Basketball Wives LA.  She is the epitome of a Video Vixen.

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The Hollywood Starlet

 

The Hollywood Starlet

These are the women who are currently in a TV Series or Reality show.  They aren’t exactly A Listers but they are on their way.  They walk into a club or a restaurant with an air of “You should know who I am.”  They are bigger in their own minds than in reality.  They all are carbon copies of each other.  The long weave, the overly made up camera ready face, the trendy clothes.  But don’t hate on these up and coming starlets.  2 out of 10 of them just may make it big and become A -Listers.  Going out for them is a business it is a job to make sure they are being seen on the scene.  In their minds they figure being out on the scene they bump into Russell Simmons or Mara Brock Akil and get offered their next role.  Refer to Nene Leakes (circa RHOA Season 1) or Meagan Good (circa 2006 before she got married to the preacher)

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The Groupie

The Groupie

The main difference between The Groupie and The Video Vixen is really quite simple, they do not try to front like they are on a grind.  The mission of the groupie is to land a star athlete so they do not have to work anymore.  7 times out of 10 these are hairstylists who work in smaller salons and do not have celebrity clients.  (Don’t ask me why, but they are.  I’m just saying don’t shoot the messenger.)  They go to the club on a mission. These are the women when the second a star athlete walks into a party with their entourage suddenly they make it a point to dance seductively in front of them or go to the bar near them all in an effort to catch their eye.  They will sleep with one of these guys for a handbag or some small piece of jewelry.  They will rock the latest fashions and carry the largest designer handbag.  Refer to Evelyn Lozado from Basketball Wives she is the epitome of a groupie who fucked her way to stardom (no judgment).

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The Has Been

The Has Been

These women are the antithesis of the Hollywood Starlet.  They were once on a hot show or reality show.  They long to be back to where they were in their hay-day.  They are typically in their late forties but still try to dress like they are in their 20’s.  That’s the thing about Hollywood; you are only as good as your last movie or hit TV series.  The hard thing for a lot of actresses is once you are on a hit TV series or been a star of a hit movie, if you cannot keep on your grind and land the next project you are kind of screwed.  Lots of these women do not have a fall back plan or they end up being in a bunch of D list straight to video Indie movies.  Or they land on a reality show thinking it will revive their career or do all kinds of crazy antics to remain relevant in the press.  Refer to former Miss USA Kenya Moore or Claudia Jordan.

Shonda Rhimes

The Executive

The Executive

The thing I love about The Executives is because they are behind the scenes at first glance people do not know how they are unless they are in the industry and have worked closely with them.  So when the Video Vixens, The Has Beens, and The Hollywood Starlet walk past the table of executives sitting at an event or a party and do not say anything, little do they know they passed up the potential opportunity for work.  These women are classy, low key, and exude a confidence that shows.  They sit in board rooms and multimillion dollar productions of major studios.  They have power.  Refer to famous executives like a Shonda Rhimes or a Tracey Edmonds.  As well as low key executives like a Robbi Reed who has casts most of the famous black actresses in Hollywood in their first movie roles.

Monique

The Universal Down Chick

The Universal Down Chick

These are the women who actually go out to have a good time.  They are professional women.  Some are up and coming executives, doctors, lawyers, and business women.  They know how to trade in the scrubs and business suits and rock a short skirt or a tight dress.  They have a natural beauty to them; short haircuts, naturally long hair.  They know lots of people in the industry and are typically very friendly and class acts.  They are the everyday professional women.  They take care of themselves and are independent.  They like the finer things in life but they also have no problem rocking something cute from Zara’s.  They buy things based on how they look not necessarily the name brands. But don’t get it confused they will rock a designer handbag and some high Louboutins in a heartbeat.  Don’t get it twisted these woman could pull the best of the best men.  They are what men refer to as “marriage material” because they are sincere and do not have a hidden agenda.  Refer to… Me!!!

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The Kept Woman

The Kept Woman

These women take being a Groupie to the next level.  These are women who only deal with multimillionaires/billionaires.  I’m talking $300million plus.  Dating an athlete is beneath them.  They do not have time for new money men.  They want old and solidified money.  Typically the men the deal with are married or have a significant other.  That doesn’t bother these women as a matter of fact the wives usually know they exist and just deal with it.  Their lifestyle is being funded by these men.  This includes their high end condos, expensive cars, clothes, and just day to day living expenses.  They are at the mercy and becking call of these men.  They take trips to St. Tropez and other exotic places.  They are living life to the fullest on the dime of these men who have the money to spend it.

“Sharon” was a kept woman.  She and I became close because she trusted me with a lot of her secrets.  I was always amazed with how she would just spend money like it was nothing.  We would have lunch at the Polo Lounge, dinner at Crustaceans.  Her life was fascinating.  She lived in an amazing condo in the Palisades that over looked the ocean.  She has a personal shopper at Neiman Marcus and Saks.  Here I was struggling at that time in my life.  I had just moved out to LA with a dollar and a dream. But I had this thing called independence.  I never wanted to be dependent on anyone.  And then you had “Sharon” who was living the high life.  However, I remember the times when “Sharon’s” “sponsor” would get mad at her and she had no idea how she was going to pay her rent or car note.   That’s the thing with being a Kept Woman.  The lifestyle seems so glamorous and so enticing but a man can wake up and change his mind and what are you supposed to do then?  What is your fall back plan?

And that’s exactly what happened to “Sharon” one day her “sponsor” woke up and changed his mind and she was left with NOTHING!  She fought him on it and threatened to tell the press his deepest darkest secrets and write a tell all book.  He ended up giving her a settlement and made her sign an NDA which shut her up for good and she couldn’t go back and ask him for more money.  She ended up leaving LA for a while.  I had no idea where she went and we lost touch.  Fast forward to last weekend when I ran into her.  She had definitely aged.  Her weave was looking tired.  As a matter of fact you could see her tracks.  She had on an older Herve Leger dress.  The sparkle that once existed in her eyes when we used to hang out a decade earlier was lost.  It was quite sad.  She gave me the biggest hug.  We promised to get together for dinner later that week at Riva Bella.  This was one of the newest restaurants by the same owner of Boa (Definitely one of the Hollywood hot spots of the moment).

Just like old times the bitch was late!!!  And not just a few minutes late, try 1 fucking hour late!  I was completely annoyed and close to bouncing out.  Luckily, the host knew me well from my various client meetings I had there so she was able to get me a table.  I looked outside and saw “Sharon” had pulled up in a Honda.  It was quite a switch from the comfortable Jaguar she used to drive.  I was stunned.  When she finally made her appearance she was frazzled.

Sharon:  Girl I am so sorry I was late.  I wasn’t sure what to wear. My friend said this dress wasn’t fancy enough but I thought it was fine….

Me:  You look fine but your ass was about to get left.

Sharon:  I know, I know there was so much traffic.

Me:  Where were you coming from?

Sharon:  Ladera Heights.

Me:  Ladera Heights?  What were you doing there?

Sharon:  I’m staying with a friend there.

I was shocked.  Ladera Heights is often referred to as the black Beverly Hills or the Hills above the Hood.  A lot of professional blacks live in that area.  The houses are beautiful and reasonably priced.  But it is a few traffic lights from Inglewood and not really my cup of tea.  I prefer to live in the actual Beverly Hills a few traffic lights away from Bel Air.  That’s just me.  There was once a time when “Sharon” said she wouldn’t be caught dead in Ladera Heights and now she was living there?  When we finally got to the table she hadn’t stopped talking.  She was now interested in managing talent and was in the process of finding “clients.”

Me:  What have you been up to in the last few years.

Sharon:  I ended up living in Barbados for a while just to get away.

Me:  Have you spoken to——

Sharon:  Girl once.  I had called him and asked him if I could get more money.  You know he gave me a settlement but that wasn’t enough to live off for a long period of time.

Me:  Did he send you more money?

Sharon:  Guuuurl no!  He hung up on me and blocked my calls.

Me:  Damn.  I’m sorry to hear that.  So now what?

Sharon:  Next week I am taking a break and heading out St. Tropez.  It’s time to find another sponsor girl!

Me:  How in the world are you going to afford to go to St Tropez?!

Sharon:  A friend of mine got me a ticket and I am staying with him for a while. We deserve to live the glamorous life.

Me:  Why not stay here and build your management firm?  You don’t need a sponsor you need to start depending on you.

I tried not to sound judgmental or too motherly.  But hadn’t she learned her lesson?  She once had a sponsor and lived the high life and that got her absolutely NO WHERE but broke and penniless and here she was damn near 50 and still up to the same shenanigans.  It was sad.  There was once a time when I looked up to her lifestyle.  All I saw was this glamorous life she lived.  At that time I had no idea the price she had to pay for that lifestyle.  It is so easy to get caught up in that lifestyle and living for the moment instead of the bigger picture.  LA is a city where if you aren’t grounded you can end up in orbit and not know how to return to the stratosphere.  Lots of times us Universal Down Chicks look at the Groupie, The Video Vixens, The Kept Women, and The Has Beens and we can find ourselves wondering What am I doing wrong?  Why do they always seem to get the “good” guys?  Maybe I should get a weave or change my wardrobe…  We look from the outside and not the reality of what’s really going on.  At the end of the evening I ended up paying for our dinner and gave her a hug as I left.  Hey, if she likes it I love it.  It was defeintely a full circle moment.  I love the lane I am in an don’t plan on switching.  There is certainly something to being the Universal Down Chick and The Executive.  Nice girls don’t always finish last.

Monique K.Bradley

 

 

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

Fantasy vs. Fiction vs. Non-Fiction

African American woman watching TV in bed

I could either get dressed and force myself to get out and about, I could have cracked open my lap top and done work emails, or I could have just stayed in my jammies, ordered room service and just stayed in the bed and finish season 2 of Downton Abbey. I went with the later.

I’ve said it time and time again.  It is so easy to be on this merry go round called “Life” that often times we find ourselves going round and round and never taking the time to get off.  We have two choices when this occurs.  Either we can voluntarily stop, get off, and smell the roses.  Or choice B) you are forced and thrown off and made to smell the roses.  Either way, life happens and you have to take a moment.  I was having one of those moments; I guess you can say it was the middle ground of the two.  I was recently out of town for business and my meetings ended early.  I tried to rebook my flight so I could leave a day early.   But unfortunately the change in price was not worth me leaving early.  So I gained an extra day out of town.  One of the advantages of hotel living are the dark curtains I woke up at 1pm.  I had no idea what time it was, I assumed it was still 3 am in the morning but when I finally opened the blinds the sun greeted me with open arms and the clouds were part of the welcoming committee to the brand new day.  I had a few choices.  I could either get dressed and force myself to get out and about, I could have cracked open my lap top and done work emails, or I could have just stayed in my jammies, ordered room service and just stayed in the bed and finish season 2 of Downton Abbey (my latest addiction).  Life is full of choices so I went with the later.  I can’t remember the last item I just chilled uninterrupted and had serious “me” time.  By the time I caught up on season 2 of Downton Abbey I felt very proper and very…. British.  LOL!  I sat up in the bed and looked out the window.  The more things changed the more they stayed the same. That’s the shitty part of having too much “me” time.  You are forced to think about shit that you might have pushed down before.  Sometimes being alone with my own thoughts uninterrupted can be extremely intimidating.  During this trip I had some time to hang out with one of my girlfriends.  Like me, she was single.  One of our girlfriends recently had a baby.  I had to laugh at myself.  I remember when I was planning my wedding she was dating her now husband at that time.  She asked me if she could bring him to the wedding, and me having my bridezilla moment snapped on her, “We are already up to 350 guests.  Most of which are his.  And now you’re asking me if some miscellaneous guy you just started dating can come?!  Hell no!!”  Fast forward 5 years to the present she is now happily married to that man and a proud mother to a beautiful baby girl.  I remember when they first started dating, he wasn’t necessarily the type of guy she typically dated.  He was a nice guy and he wasn’t flashy and full of the game playing.  He adored her from the start and she ultimately fell in love with him.  At the end of the day he made my friend happy and she had fully transitioned from former party girl to a genuinely happily married wife and mother.  She recently sent me a picture of her gorgeous daughter.  I sent her a text:

Me:   She is so darn cute.  I can’t wait to visit you and see you in your new life as a wife and mother. 

Girlfriend:  Haha life has changed indeed and I love it!  Sometimes I miss the old days of us hanging out being carefree.

Me:  Trust me!  You’re missing nothing.

married-couple

Fast forward 5 years to the present she is now happily married to that man. I remember when they first started dating, he wasn’t necessarily the type of guy she typically dated… He adored her from the start and she ultimately fell in love with him. At the end of the day he made my friend happy and she had fully transitioned from former party girl to a genuinely happily married wife and mother.

 

And that was the honest to goodness truth.  She wasn’t missing much.  Don’t get me wrong, I am thoroughly enjoying my life as a single woman.  I can come and go as I please.  I travel all around the world, I go to great events, and I have great friendships.  While I long to meet my soul mate I am still enjoying my life.  But sometimes I wonder at what point does not “settling” turn into living in a fantasy world.  I am so clear on what I want in my next relationship.  After being in a shitty marriage and going through an even shittier divorce it forces you to really evaluate what you are looking for.  It also makes you relentless in your search for “Mr. Right.”  Sometimes I wonder if I am being too damn picky.  Last year this time I met “Jason” at a conference in New Orleans.  He lived in Houston and was in Sports Management.  He was helping out with the conference.  I was outside waiting for a taxi to head back to my hotel and he pulled up and offered to give me a ride.

Jason:  He there!  I can give you a ride back.  No need for you to wait in this long taxi line.

Me:  Are you sure?  I don’t want you to have to go out of your way.

Jason:  It’s no problem at all.

So he gave me a ride back to my hotel.  He seemed like a nice guy.  The conversation was pretty basic.  You know the typical, “How long have you lived in LA… The year round great weather… the cost of living in Houston vs. LA… the conference… blah… blah… blah…”

 

It was… beige.  “Jason” wasn’t bad looking either.  He had a great body.  I could tell he worked out a lot.  He was probably barely making 6’0.  And when he laughed I noticed he was wearing Invisalign.  Okay, I can respect a 43 year old man who decides to take care of his teeth.  Height and straight teeth were at the top of my vanity list.  He was really a nice, friendly, authentic guy.  When he dropped me off we exchanged business cards.  I saw him a few days later at the ending reception for the conference.  I really didn’t think much about him until a week later I received an inbox from him on Facebook.  He pretty much said how great it was to meet me and that he would like to keep in touch but lost my business card.  It was a really nice email.  So I emailed him back with my information.  Then he sent me another inbox and this one was, long.  He pretty much said he really enjoyed the short time we had together and he wanted to get to know me better.  He didn’t want to be too forward but he figured in life you have to take chances so he was willing to put himself out there and let me know how he felt.  He called me the next day and we had an open conversation.  I didn’t feel one way or the other about him.  He just seemed like a nice guy and I was trying to be open and receptive.  Of course, he didn’t drink (why in the hell was I constantly meeting these 40 year old men who don’t drink?!)  And you already know that isn’t a plus.  He had been married before and was very open about why his marriage didn’t last and I appreciated his honesty.  He was a really really nice guy.  Nice.  Beige…  He mentioned he would be in LA for business and wanted to take me out for dinner while he was in town.  I figured there was no harm in that.  He continued to call me, text me, email me every day.  I really wanted to like him.   I really wanted to get to know him and see if I could eventually feel what he felt for me.  But then he called me with a change of plans.

Jason:  I’m going to stay in LA for the week.  I figured I might as well spend some extra time out there and hang out with you.

Me:  Ummmmm…  well… okay.  But I hope you understand that you’ll need to get a hotel. 

Jason:  I completely understand and that’s not a problem. 

Me:  Okay cool.

When we got off the phone I paced back and forth.  I wasn’t ready for this.  How in the world did a dinner while he was in town for business turn into a one week rendezvous?!  And furthermore, why in the world couldn’t I bring myself to like him like he liked me.  And for heaven’s sake, why did he have to rush things?  I would have been fine with a dinner.  That would have told me everything I needed to know and perhaps I would have ultimately grown to like him.  But now he was rushing things and I began to freak out.  What was wrong with me?  Here was a nice respectable guy who adored me, who would give me the world, who wanted to spend time with me and get to know me and I was lacing up my Flo Jo track shoes and ready to take the gold medal for the runaway relationship girl.  What the fuck was my problem?  Was I the Goldilocks of dating?  When one guy wasn’t into me I was pissed.  But now I had a man who seemed to adore me and I still wasn’t happy.  I needed to think about things.  I opened up a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, poured myself a glass and sat outside to think.  I ended up calling “Jason.”

One sided relationships

How in the world did a dinner while he was in town for business turn into a one week rendezvous?! And furthermore, why in the world couldn’t I bring myself to like him like he liked me.

Me:  Hey Jason.  Things are just moving too fast.  I thought you were coming out here for work and we were just going to have dinner.  But I’m not ready for you and me to be hanging out for a week.  I don’t really know you like that and I want to things slow.

Jason:  I understand.  I don’t want to pressure you. But I really want to get to know you.

Me:  I understand that.  But a full week is just too much.  If you happen to be in town for work I would love to grab a dinner with you.  But I’m just not ready for a full week.  I hope you understand.

Jason:  I understand completely.  And I would never want you to feel uncomfortable.

When we got off the phone, I kind of felt bad, more so for me, not “Jason.”  I got to thinking about expectations and what we look for.  At what point does not “settling” become an excuse for really being afraid of missing out?  When you think about it, that’s what it really is.  Here was a guy who was attractive, smart, a little on the goofy side, and who was really into me and I just couldn’t pull it together to be on the same page.  Was it my severe case of FOMO (fear of missing out)?  Was this idea I had in my mind that I would meet “the one” and we would fall madly in love with each other and have an instant attraction a fantasy world I created in my mind?  At what point do you give up the fantasy relationship for the reality of what really is happening?  And when you do that, how do you convince yourself that you aren’t settling?  I want the butterflies; I don’t want to say, “He grew on me…”  There comes a point in life where you do have to give up your fantasy of what you thought a relationship should be and what you expect it to look like and go with what is in reality.   “Jason” and I are still friends and he is a great guy.  His mistake was rushing things before I was ready.  Who knows what the future holds.  But lately I have been re-evaluating the fantasy fictional story I created in my mind and dealing with the non-fiction of life.  Life is all about re-adjusting and reflecting.  Sometimes you gotta re-evaluate what’s important to you and deal with reality.     

Coming Back Next Week

Skiing

I’ll be back March 4th!!!!

 

I have been on ski vacation for the past week.  I promise next week I will have double the Confessions…. Double the Adventure… Double the fun…

Next Post Monday, March 4th….  I promise it will be worth the wait.  Stay tuned…