It’s Not Us. It’s You.

Shout out to my coworker EJ for this little gem from her adventures in dating.  It inspired the forthcoming rant. :)

Picture it.

You go on a first date and it’s kind of… “meh.”  So, you decide to give it another go.  Maybe you both had first-date jitters.

So, you go on a second date and, once again, it’s kind of *sticks hand out* *wiggles it a little*.

But the guy asks you out again.

“Okay,” you tell yourself. “The dates haven’t been great, but they weren’t turrible either.  Maybe the third time will be a charm.  Let’s give it one more try.”

So you do.

But there’s no connection.  No chemistry.  No dice.

So, you resolve that it’s simply not a match.

The guy asks you out again & you tell him that you don’t think it’s working.  The dates have have been lackluster [for both parties], so you think it best to just be friends and not waste one another’s time.

The guy doesn’t want to hear that.

The guy takes it personally.  Almost as if he chose to ignore the mediocre-ness of your 3 dates.

So, the guy takes to ranting to you via text message.

“I’m a good black man and you black women say you want a good black man, but when you get one, you don’t know what to do with him.”

“Black women don’t know what they want.”

“Black women this.”

“Black women that.”

Dude. O_o


His response was entirely too extra.  [Issues, much?]  Sweet Jesus, I hate when folks feel the need to exclaim, “I’m a good black (wo)man!”  If you feel the need to go around broadcasting that to anyone who will listen?  You’re doing too much.  TOO MUCH.  If you’re so good, it will show.  Period.  To quote Zora Neale Hurston, “Those that don’t got it, can’t show it.  Those that got it, can’t hide it.”

Amen sister.

Secondly, why can’t you just call it what it was: a bad date.  Not every date is going to be great.  Not every date will lead to a woman falling in love with you.  Some of them shits just plain don’t work out.  You just have to count your losses and keep it moving until you find one that does.  That’s, essentially, what dating is!

Thirdly, and most annoyingly, why dude gotta get all “anti-black woman” because of 3 lukewarm, awkward, I-coulda-stayed-home-and-given-myself-a-pedicure dates?  Why dude [and a lot of black men, for that matter] gotta blame an entire group of people because his own singular personal individual dating history sucks.

Who’s the common denominator in that equation? O_O

Black women on the whole aren’t confused crazy desperate heffas.  Hell, some of ‘em don’t even want a black man, so take the chip off your “I’m a good black man” shoulder.  Nobody goes off on all latina/asian/white women if and when they go on mediocre dates with either of them.  Don’t pull that shit with us.

Please accept this gift-wrapped folding chair and have a seat.

EJ replied one last time to that guy wishing him well.  [She’s so nice.]  At least his crazy surfaced when it did.  She dodged a bullet.


I was talking to one of my homies in LA a couple of weeks ago.  We’ll call her “Homegirl.”

Homegirl has been my homegirl for a long time.  We went to college together so I’ve known her for a number of years and we’ve had many a conversation about the menfolk.  Homegirl has been perpetually single for a while.  She’s dated some guys here & there, but those have lasted about as long as it takes to finish reading this sentence.  To be frank, I don’t think she’s had an actual boyfriend for as long as I’ve known her.  That’s almost 10 years.

And I don’t get it.

I mean, Homegirl is smart, funny, adventurous, attractive, genuine, sweet, the whole nine.  She wouldn’t have “homegirl” status in my circle if she wasn’t some sort of awesome.

And, this is not to say that being single makes you any less awesome.  [If that were the case, my awesome-mometer would have plummeted long ago. And I like to think my awesome is still in tact.]  Matters of the heart & love & isht doesn’t define a person.  I know this.

The thing is, from my conversations with Homegirl, I know that she wants to be in a relationship.  Like a deep, meaningful, compatible, long-term relationship that will hopefully lead to marriage.  She’s very involved in other things & leads a full life;  she’s  not the miserable “feel sorry for me” lonely type; more like the “single & fabulous” type.  But, she has been looking for love for a long time.

Actively looking.

Pro-actively looking.

And yet, nada.

For some people, love seems to just fall into their lap.  They will be happily going about life & be like, “Oh, snap.  I think I just found the love of my life.  How awesome is that?!”

While others look & look & search & search & eharmony & speed-date & blind date & nothin’.

They say love shows up when you’re least looking for it.   But how does one go about acting like they’re least looking for it [since they say that’s when love shows up]… when it’s the one thing they do want?  How does one not look for it… when they’re looking for it?

How does one be happily single without giving off the “I don’t need a man” vibe that tends to run men off?  And how does one be pro-active about finding a mate without coming off as desperate?

See the conundrum?

Part of it could be her geographic location, because I gotta tell ya, my time dating in LA was NOTHING to write home about.  Nothing a’tall.  But I do know couples who have developed relationships / gotten married in LA.

So, there goes that theory.

Any advice for Homegirl?  Please chime in.

We’re actually going to the wedding of another friend of ours in LA this summer.  Homegirl is hoping to be “boo-ed up” by then.

Marriage Material?

I was talking to my BFF the other night [we’ll just call her “Bestest” for the purposes of this post] and after tallying the friends & associates of ours who have recently got engaged [in my world, the end of 2010 was Engagement Extravaganza], we got to thinking about ourselves and concluded, “maybe we’re not marriage material.”

Then there was a pause.

We were semi-joking.

I don’t think either of us really  meant that we’re not marriage material… per-se.  LAWD JEEBUS IN HEAVEN knows I can’t get with all the ten trillion surveys & statistics about why/how black women will never get married and that none of us are marriage material by default [see the paragraph above and go play in traffic if you buy into that crap].  I don’t count myself in that number & I’m sure Bestest doesn’t either.

But the root of why we probably said that was because we know… it takes a special person to deal with us.  LOL!

Bestest and I are alike in a lot of ways that may not always be the most conducive to a healthy relationship.  I can be very moody and the most random thing can sometimes set me off.  Same for Bestest.

Sensitive?  Check and check.

Withholding, stubborn, and overly-analytical about why you said what you said and why you said it how you said it?  You betcha.  Two times.

Outbursts  about something you did two months ago that randomly surfaces as you’re enjoying a bowl of Cap’n Crunch on a Saturday morning?  Sho ’nuff.

Plus, we both enjoy our alone time WAY too damb much.  LOL!  #Antisocial

[Sidebar:  Bestest and I can read each other like a book.  I wish I could explain this scenario better without getting into too much detail or making both of us look crazy, but we once had a about a month-long silent argument.  LOL!  We were roommates for 2 years in college, and basically we started to give/get bad vibes from one another, so we sort-of just stopped talking.  Mind you, there was never a disagreement over anything in particular or any fight about XYZ or anything of that nature.  We were perfectly “pleasant” on the surface, but we both knew something was off for some unknown reason.  Well, I knew my reason, and she knew her reason, but neither of us thought the other knew so we were trying to act like nothing was wrong even though we BOTH knew something was wrong with the other.  (Make sense?)  Finally, she broke the ice, we discovered what it was & we cleared the air.  The basis of the issue being that we’re both sensitive.  (see above) LOL & SMH!]

So yeah.  We can be really hard to read at times, and depending on the scenario, the people who are closest to us have to tread lightly.

Sometimes, I really feel sorry for my boyfriend, ’cause I know how I am.


Clearly, some of these issues have to get the boot, right?

But, on the other hand, though we have these reclusive tendencies, we’re a HOOT the majority of the time.  On the other hand, everybody on earth has issues of some kind and yet, people get married every day.  On the other hand, our awesome qualities farrrrr outweigh our… shall I say… relationship-stiflers.  On the other hand, there’s somebody for everybody.

We’re all a work in progress, and though there are some things [mentioned above] that make me get on my OWN dang nerves about myself, I like to think the good about me outweighs the bad.

Marriage material?  We likely are.

Can I take a moment…

Photo hijacked from The Sartorialist.

Very yes.

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