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Archive for the tag “going out”

Fellas, I’ll Be at the Cultural Stuff

Welp, I figured I should tell you, my friends that I basically ended the situation with the older gentleman.

I know.

We all had high hopes. But it just didn’t feel right. He did something last week that led to a super lapse in judgement, involving a run-in with tow guys and the police, and a lackluster make out session, and the sense that he was too impressed by me, was a little too much.

He said he understood, but he still wanted to check on me from time to time and that he’d miss me.

I told him I don’t know what he was looking for down the line, but I had a feeling no matter how long we dragged this out, I wouldn’t be as all in as him.

It sucks. It sucks a lot because he was really, really sweet and kind. But he deserves more from someone who will be just as invested him. My heart wasn’t all in.

So here’s the deal.

I do think I’m ready to date and meet some great guys and I have a friend who is quite enthusiastic about me going out on the scene.

I’m not so excited about hitting the bars and parties. Actually, I dread it. It’s so not fun anymore. Don’t like it.

So, thanks to the good folks at Goldstar, where I get discounted tickets to all sorts of awesome stuff, I’ve figured out there’s a lot of interesting things going on that still involve a few cocktails, but involve cultural things, new music, art and things I dig, where there may be a greater likelihood of me even meeting someone who is interested in the same thing. It won’t be a meat market.

Tomorrow night, I’m going to check out an African hip hop artist at the National Geographic in D.C. I think it will be a lot of fun and inexpensive and I’ll be exposed to something new. Whether I meet someone or not, I still feel like I’ll get my money’s worth and I’ll be comfortable.

Next week, one of my awesome guy friends will join me to see the awesome jazz artist Robert Glasper, who has done some fabulous collaborations with R&B and hip hop artists. The music is unbelievable.

I won’t lie, I do feel somewhat self-conscious. Men aren’t chasing me down like they used to. Somewhere down the line, I gained 20 pounds and I really didn’t notice. I don’t think I look bad, but there is a difference. I’ve changed my hair, so it’s no longer long and straight, but short and curly. But I like my hair this way. I think I look good, but I guess in an unconventional way. So I’m not thrilled about going to some of D.C.’s hot spots trying to wear 5 inch heels and squeeze myself in to a freakum dress while surrounded by long weaves and rail thin music video girls.

I don’t want to push anything up or suck anything in. I want to be able to go out and look cute and comfortable. I just don’t have the desire to go all out to get men’s attention. You either see my light or you don’t. Am I being lazy? Will I not meet anyone awesome because I’m not trying hard enough, or am I old and jaded?

I drink Makers. Not apple martini’s. I like to argue about politics and social problems, I can’t dumb myself down. I like to talk about the books I’ve read, or the concerts or museum exhibits I want to see. I have opinions. Not to say that most of the men in D.C. are shallow, they dig all of that. But the ones that are 28-46, they are greedy, they know the demographics of the city and they know they are at an advantage when it comes to women and the numbers.

So, is my plan a great compromise? Go to more of the cultural events I already love to go to and maybe I can meet someone there?

Hook Me Up With Your Fourth-Tier Friends

I was hanging out with a dear male friend yesterday and while catching up over BBQ chicken wings, I declared I was ready to put myself back out there and meet some guys.

I’m not sure if I want a full blown relationship, but I’m down for some dating and meeting and such.

I’m bored. I have a new hairstyle and no place to go.

He paused and rubbed his chin as he thought of prospects.

My boy knows prospects. He went to an all male college that cranks out the likes of Spike Lee and Martin Luther King Jr. for crying out loud. He travels all the time and has friends on almost every corner of the earth.

I told him since I have a tendency to drop men like a bad habit when I’m in the dating phase, to do everyone a favor and only introduce me to “fourth-tier friends.”

Meaning, I don’t want to date your best friend or guys in your circle. Think of guys who are friends of friends and maybe another friend removed. A great example is someone you added on a social network just because you know them or met them, lol.

No one gets hurt if I suddenly stop returning his phone calls, or he stops returning mine. And I can’t give my friend total blame if this fourth-tier friend is a jerk, because well, they weren’t that cool to begin with.

So why would I put myself through this if I don’t want to meet a great guy I could actually fall for or take a chance with a guy my friend knows for a fact is a great guy?

I just want to get pretty and go out on dates. I don’t even want to think about actually falling for someone. Now other friends have already told me if I just want to go out on dates, I could easily get on a dating web site and go on dates until my face turns blue. I haven’t ruled it out completely. I just don’t want to spend $30 a month to do so.

Fourth-tier also does not mean your recruiter should trot out less-than-desirable guys, oh to the contrary. They still need to be at a minimum: employed, have good personal hygiene, manners, can hold a conversation and be non-boring.

He laughed and told me he knew better than to do anything like that and would put on his thinking cap.

I also told him he had to “manufacture an organic encounter” between me and said bachelors. I.E. a party at his place, or a happy hour, or outdoor concert/festival where folks just show up and strike up conversations.

He took it upon himself to set a height requirement, even though I am known for showing love to short guys. He said they must be 5″8 or taller.

So we shall see. I wonder if the “fourth-tier friends” plan will actually work…

The Men Are Where You’re Not

I had a great weekend.

I got to meet up with old friends, out-of-town friends, and meet new people.

Every group of brilliant, beautiful women I encountered, the majority of us were single and did not have boyfriends and weren’t even close.

Each woman took a different approach.

Some said, “Forget it, I stopped having sex.”

Some said God will send the man.

Some said “we got along, the sex was great, now he doesn’t want it anymore? I’m offended. Why doesn’t he want my ass? He would at least want that right?”

Some said they don’t mind putting objects up a man’s butt and he should feel free to express himself sexually without fear of being seen as homosexual.

Some said, you need to trust your instincts if a man likes things up his butt too much and stop trying to be over open-minded to the point of losing your own boundaries or sacrificing your own sexual comfort zone. You are not a prude if you don’t do everything.

Forget some said. I said that.

Some said they would go to a strip club with their man, while others said they absolutely would not. They feared getting hit in the face with a flying crab, from off of the dancers…

These conversations, as varied as they were, always returned to, well, where are they?

I felt like an outsider really, because I’ve been relishing my singledom as of late. My heart had been broken so badly, I have nothing to lose anymore. I’m taking the time to pursue interests I let slide and finding joy in that.

I do get lonely, but it is a temporary thing. Men are everywhere. It’s not that hard to get a date, it’s not hard to get sex.

It’s just hard finding the right man you click with and want to stick with and who wants to click and stick with you.

When I suggested brutal honesty to the girl who was pining for a guy she had great sex with, another chimed in and said it’s bad to put her cards on the table and look desperate.

I said well alrighty. Personally, brutal honesty from saying, I’m not feeling this situation to talking bluntly about sex, and bluntly about relationships has worked well for me. It was a shocking revelation. I’ll let those chicks figure it out for themselves.

I did give them these tips. One girl almost looked ready to write it down.

I said the men are friends of people you know and will be at house parties thrown by a friend of a friend.

The men are going to be at the restaurant you stop in one night after work on a random weeknight.

The man is going to be the one working on the Habitat for Humanity project you finally decide to sign up for or a meetup.com group outing.

He’s going to be standing in line at Boston Market after work because he has no one to cook for him (I’ve seen fine men at Boston Market).

He’ll be the one to help you when you are sucking at your first golf lesson or indoor rock climbing class, but still having a great time, not taking yourself too seriously.

He’s going to be walking back from lunch on a street you never walk down because you make a bee line to the same sandwich spot back to your job and never divert from your routine.

He’s going to be the guy that watched you walking down the street looking angry, stressed or too busy to be bothered.

He’s going to be the guy who saw you diss and dismantle the pride of the last guy who tried to buy you a drink and then decide to say forget it.

He’s going to be the guy one table over who heard you say “men ain’t shit” over drinks with your friends.

He faithfully goes to your gym, an hour earlier, or an hour later than you.

He is where you aren’t until you decide to show up.

And show up looking put together (don’t need expensive clothes or a lot of make up or sky high heels), and armed with a positive attitude.

So it’s all about timing, and it’s all about taking a good look at what you do with your time, where you go, who you are with and then taking a chance to flip the script, shake up the routine.

There was research I read a long time ago that said people should not drive home the same way every single day because it dumbs down your brain and you will eventually be on auto pilot and not as alert and more prone to get into accidents.

Same thing with your dating life. If you want to meet new people, you got to change the routine and your route.

Let’s get this Monday going…This beat makes me feel like Mary is on the hunt.

Send In the Clowns: A Pig in Wolf’s Clothing

I was feeling good yesterday.

I should have.

It’s my birthday week.

In honor of this fabulous occasion, I decided to dress up everyday this week. When I dress up, I always feel great. So, not putting my great outfit to waste, I couldn’t just go home after work. (I won’t be tonight either. I’m going out for dinner with a mentor/friend whom I love dearly)

I hit up a local happy hour for a half-priced delicious celebratory crab cake or two.

A well-dressed man pulls up to the empty spot next to me at the bar, and he’s in a hurry, but wants a quick bite and drink.

We engage in conversation and this man has already managed to mention everything on my short list that I STRONGLY dislike in a man in 20 mins or less.

1. He mentioned twice he had been in the music business.

2. He mentioned twice he had traveled all over the world.

3. He mentioned more than one kid he had to pick up from after care.

4. He made reference to his “first wife.”

5. He was angling for an invite for he and his best friend to my birthday because I mentioned I had about 10 friends coming in from out-of-town.

6. He assumed all 10 were women for he and his best friend to meet.

7. He gave me his business card.

8. Instead of seeing my firm handshake as a sign of confidence (as professional people do), he said I probably give great massages.

1. I love music, and I actually have a cousin who is a real mover and shaker in the industry, who works very hard, who is very humble and so are some of his celebrity friends. So when you come at me saying you are a producer, rapper or you own your own label, I yawn. I’m not one to step on people’s dreams, but I’m sick of everybody trying to do this.

2. Because of his music business career, he’s traveled all over the world. Yeah, you should try the blank, because I’ve been all over the world and know good food. I’ve met many people with full passports and piss poor attitudes. Meanwhile there are some people who never left D.C. or NY who are ridiculously fascinating.

3. People may think this is jerky, but men with kids need not apply. I’m not interested. I don’t want to share your time, attention and money with your kids and the women you had kids with. Your resources are already stretched (not just money, emotional support too). Please focus on your kids, because I feel guilty anytime you spend significant money on me. So nope. No gracias.

4. Things don’t work out. I get that. But when a man says things like, “My first wife,” that leads me to believe there is definitely a second, and possibly a third. Um, yeah, I need to go powder my nose, with my coat and purse.

4.5 This dude also mentioned his best friends are his ex girlfriends. Once again, that can happen, but usually it’s rare and with one person and the people who do that have stopped having sex and have completely gotten over the relationship and it was like years ago. If you are close with ALL of your exes you are full of shit. You can’t do it, I don’t care how cool these people are. This is probably the number one reason why this fool has numerous wives and ex wives. The most I do for the exes I don’t hate is send them a happy birthday text message, and that will fade out when they get married.

5. I mentioned my party includes an after party at my house. We just met. Hell no, you can’t come to my house. You are wack for asking.

6. You are wack for mentioning with glee the possibility of ten of my girlfriends in attendance for you and your best friend to annoy and offend while fueling yourselves with my free food and drink. I don’t think so.

7. Men who give you business cards are either genuinely networking so contacting them professionally is fine. Or dudes like this guy want to be contacted at work when their wives, girlfriends, or live-in vagina, is not around and can’t catch them.

8. When he commented on my firm handshake, as I said before, I originally took that as a professional compliment til he went south. Literally. Seriously, you want to invite yourself and your friend to my party to hook up with my homies and you want to talk about me massaging you? Really? Epic fail.

I remember why I’ve been out of the clubs, lounges and bars for so long and why I won’t be returning as regularly as I did in my 20s. It’s really funny.

Please enjoy “Uneligble” By Fantasia. Yes, shouldn’t it be Ineligible? Just sayin…

If 16 Is Sweet, 30’s Definitely Dirty

Well, it looks like things are finally starting to come together on the party planning front.

I had to make some tough decisions regarding the guest list, I had to coax some folks, but it’s going down.

Me and about 12 of my closest friends (and some significant others who I love too) will go to Medieval Times and have a rockin, joustin, wench-tippin good time.

The last time I had an official birthday party was my sweet 16. I’ve taken a poll involving people who live in other regions, and it seems no one is more obsessed with the sweet 16 than girls from Long Island in the late 90s.

I was going to parties a few times a month for about four years.

The Sweet 16 was huge amongst our set. Whether you had it in a hotel ballroom or in a backyard, you had to have one. Period. Even when my father offered me a really cheap car or the Sweet 16, without hesitation, I chose the party.

I don’t regret it.

I still remember my champagne colored dress (My mom wanted white. We compromised.),  and the tape on my fingers from being jammed during a basketball game the previous day. I remember having a bartender serving up Shirley Temples all night, and I remember the damn dj my cousin found who didn’t have the right equipment and my best friend going home to get his own equipment to get the party started. In the meantime, the catering hall owner, played the last cd left behind from the last party. “Say you, Say Me.”  By Lionel Ritchie. God, I was embarrassed as my guests were arriving.

The colors were hunter green and champagne. The venue was a lovely spot over looking the water (we ended up having our junior prom there the following year).

I remember Will Smith’s “Gettin Jiggy With It.” I remember doing the dance to break the ice and get everyone else to dance too. Wow.

I also remember that being February, it was cold. And report cards just came out, so some of my friends couldn’t go because they were on punishment because their grades weren’t up to par.

Despite all that, it was fabulous. There was Hawaiian chicken, baked ziti (do those even go together?) and I really can’t believe I remember all of this, but we had a ball.

My dad, a masterful sheet metal craftsman, made a candle holder of my name to hold all 16 candles. The night was magic. My older sister had flown into town for the event. All of the people I loved were there and totally happy. A friend of my dad’s made special chocolate lollipops for the occasion to go in the goodie bags.

My mother was a picture of health and looked gorgeous and my family in my mind was perfect back then. That’s what makes the memory even more precious. The next year was going to set off a lot of painful things for my mother and for the rest of my family, that we are still struggling with today.

The other Long Island tradition was the Sweet 16 book. It was a specific hard cover book that was handmade at the local flea market. The cover consisted of mirrors of a particular color that spelled out sweet 16 and had your name and birthday written on it. It held pics from the event and served as a guest book where all your friends would sign and tell jokes about being able to drive. This was a must have for the pre-Facebook generation.

I still have that book and I do look at it around my birthday to laugh. I’m almost tempted to ask if someone could go to the flea market and make me a “dirty 30” book just for kicks.

I think I’m starting to get those same butterflies like I did as a teenage girl, on the brink of independence.

This time, there will be alcohol.

This time, I have my own place (afterpartay).

Ironically, it won’t be as “fancy” as the last party. My goal, as I stated in another blog is to be just the opposite.

This time poor grades and punishment will not prevent my guests from showing up.

Instead of a fancy dress, I will be wearing a cute tee shirt that says “82” and some jeans.

This time, I’m even more appreciative of the people in my life.

And this time, I know just how quickly moments like these end, so I’m going to drink it all in. Seriously. I already bought a 30 necklace with a shot glass attached a la Mardi Gras…

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