You know that M&Ms commercial where the two M&Ms are discussing Santa and all of a sudden, Santa makes an appearance, and one M&M turns to the other and says "He DOES exist!" (referring to Santa) and then Santa mutters, "They DO exist" (referring to the talking M&Ms) right before he passes out on the spot from sheer surprise? Yeah, well… I find the concept of a good, professional, minority man of a certain age who actually wants to get married and settled down about as unrealistic as a walking, talking M&M. Mmmhmm… it's gotten THAT bad out here. I find the existence of anthropomorphic candy covered chocolate more believable than a smart, good-looking, professional Black man who is actually seeking a wife. Sad, isn't it?
I mean, when you are a minority man of a certain caliber in Washington, DC in particular, you really have your choice of equally impressive minority females. You can't walk two blocks on a DC street without running into 100 beautiful, independent, educated, professional minority women. The streets are also littered with an opposite sort of minority woman, but you're almost as likely to find a good one as you are likely to find a dud. I know I'm making some generalizations here, but I think if you talk to any aware man, woman, or child in the DC area, they will tell you that this much is true.
Now, most women, when they reach a certain age grow tired of the games and the competition, and they become enamored with the possibility of finding just ONE man who is interested in making them their ONE woman. You know, commitment, monogamy… all that jazz. To a woman, it sounds like paradise. To a man, it sounds pretty much like hell. As I've said before, there are distinct differences between how (some) men and (some) women view marriage. I've heard it said that to women, marriage is a beginning and to men, marriage is THE END.
You might be asking yourself: "The end of WHAT, exactly?” Well, the truth is that I don’t know and they don’t know either. For many women, life… REAL life… begins with marriage. For instance, I can show you at least 15 beautiful, smart, professional women who are just waiting for their “adult lives” to begin… and the first step in the direction is marriage. A law school friend and I used to have an “inside joke” about what law school meant to us. We both worked hard and hoped to be successful in our careers, but we both also admitted – on a regular basis – that law school was just a “space-filler” until we could get married and have kids.
Sure, we live the single life. We go out with our girlfriends, get cute, and socialize, the whole time hoping that this night we dressed cute enough for Mr. Wonderful to finally notice us, sweep us off our feet, and carry us off into the sunset to the land of (breast) milk, and honey (do lists). That quest for the perfect mate becomes the center of the world and consumes us. Our very happiness, our sense of completion, depends on whether we find that man, marry him, and build a family with him.
It is what it is.
Men, on the other hand, see marriage as the end of life as they know it. They don’t look at it with excitement, they face it with impending doom. And, as a result, they prolong the decision to get married… they hold off for as long as possible. They learn to love the single life and take full advantage of all the rights and privileges associated with that status. And, marriage signifies not an exciting new beginning with the woman they love, but the end of their perceived life of freedom to date whomever they so please. I call that freedom “perceived” because it’s not reality. Sure, theoretically, they could date anyone they please but, in reality, they can only date those women who are actually INTERESTED in them and… that’s number of women is a lot smaller than these men think! These guys mourn the end of being able to date the small number of women (What are we talking here? 5? Maybe… 6 women?) who are out there in the dating pool willing to date them.
I know there are exceptions to both of my general rules. There are women out there who couldn’t really give a flying fuck about finding a man. And, although I’d never personally encountered one, people alluded to the fact that there might be men out there… real, intelligent, good-looking, professional, respectful, funny, living, breathing men… who were looking forward to the prospect of marriage and who were actively seeking wives. Could this be true?
Well for years, I held out hope that I’d meet one of these men… that I would run into one at the supermarket or the gas station. And, I’m not selfish… I know that this is such a rare breed that, if this mythical man happened to be uninterested in making ME his wife, I surely wouldn’t have hesitated to introduce him to a girlfriend or acquaintance with whom he might wish to settle down. Hey, at least one of us could be happy, right?
But this kind of man turned out to be as elusive as a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. I mean, sure, I've met men who pretended that they wanted to be married… men who claimed they were searching for a wife… but they were just in love with the CONCEPT of marriage, they didn’t really want the real thing. The thought of actually following through with a committed monogamous relationship with ONE woman (And believe it or not MEN… in order for a relationship to be monogamous it can involve ONLY one woman. Look it up!) was a bit too much for these guys to handle. For some reason, they just can't stand the thought of being "locked down" (notice the negative connotation there... marriage is NOT like being imprisoned, despite what some may think!).
The whole phenomenon is really discouraging and was making me wonder whether I'd ever encounter a man of a certain age who wants to... not even settle down with ME... but who wants to settle down. PERIOD.
So, imagine my surprise when I met one!
This guy is a friend of a friend... he's 37 years old, good looking, Black, Christian (although, admittedly, a LAZY Christian), educated at fine institutions, professional, no children, never been married before, not stingy with his money (praise Jesus), witty, and on the road to homeownership. Hallelujah!
So, how come I never noticed him before, right? Well, this guy does a pretty damn good job of disguising the fact that he's searching for a wife. (Does it really count if he's trying to do it on the low? Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't...) But, he had been dating this one woman for over a year and really loved her. He thought that relationship was leading toward the altar. Then, they broke up... (her choice, not his) and he was depressed for awhile. One of our mutual friends edits a blog and she asked this man to blog about his dating experiences after ending this particular relationship. So, he blogged. And it was funny. Hilarious, really. I had no clue that he had been writing. But he told me about the blog this week, which was almost six months after her wrote his last post in the series. I read his dating column and was surprised at how sincere this guy was about finding a wife. He is, like, really looking for someone to settle down with. Then, he goes on to prove my theory by saying that his guy friends all are wondering why in the world he would want to settle down (assholes!). He ignores their wonderment and continues to search. But, he claims he can't find a good woman to settle down with in DC, which surprises me because he hangs out with a ton of "good women" (including me).
Well, I'm not sure what he's looking for, but I know that he's looking for it. And that is ENcouraging. I also know that he's chosen to be abstinent while on the search for this future wife, which I just find so endearing. He's friggin awesome!
Anyway, I really hope he's successful... somebody out here deserves to be happily married to a guy like this!
So, no, he doesn't want to settle down with ME. But that's fine. Just knowing that this man is actively seeking someone to settle down WITH is enough.
And now, I can shout from the mountaintops: They DO exist!
Thank God.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Random Ramblings...
Some of you thought that my New Year's "emotional detox" was a little harsh. I explained that the post was a mental and emotional exercise... it was a cleansing of sorts. I didn't say anything to be spiteful or mean. Hence, no names are mentioned and no identifying characteristics are shared (with the exception of the two very obvious blurbs about my Mom and Dad). I hope that nobody thinks I'm being purposely bitchy for what I wrote. As I've explained, this blog has become something like therapy for me... my very public "diary", if you will. I hope I don't share so much that it scares you away!
Now, in keeping with the "diary" theme... here are some brief updates about my life:
First of all, I'm getting fat. Okay, I've been fat... so this is not news. I guess it would be more accurate to say I'm getting fatTER. I'm not sure how this happened although I think it had something to do with the various holidays that have occurred over the last few months. Those damn holidays always set me up, man. I have a sweet tooth. I like sugar, but it doesn't like me. Unfortunately, I can't seem to get enough of sugar... but my hips are begging me to take it easy.
I have made a promise to myself that I will not shop for clothes at this size. I need some new jeans and a few new pairs of slacks for work. But I refuse to buy anything new and, instead, I've relegated myself to spandex (American Apparel is my best friend right now) until I'm back to a "normal" size. The other day, I went out with MBF wearing my signature leggings and he said, "I see you're wearing your favorite pants." He's an asshole, but I was sort of embarrassed that he noticed that my spandex was making a repeat performance. But, unless he's going to buy me new jeans with his own money, then he should really just shut the hell up! It's a good thing for me that leggings are currently considered stylish. But, knowing the fickleness of fashion, I'm sure that it'll only be a matter of time until they're passe again and I'll be an embarrassing fashion faux pas.
Next on the agenda: work. I am bored. My job doesn't challenge me. In fact, the only two challenging things about my job are
1) Making myself get up in the morning to GO to work.
2) Keeping myself awake when I get there.
Yeah. That's really it. My job is weird. The work ebbs and it flows. And when it flows... it really gushes. But when it ebbs, there is literally NOTHING to do! So, yeah. I basically have no excuse for not updating this blog on a more regular basis because I clearly have a whole hell of a lot of time on my hands to write and edit posts while I'm on the clock at work. But, that wouldn't be ethical... right? So, I'll keep my blogging to a minimum at work and instead use it to pass the time while I ride the Metro.
Ahhh... the Metro. My next topic of conversation. For those of you that know me, you'll know that I have a germ phobia. I cringe when people cough or sneeze in enclosed places, I nearly vomit if someone spits as they talk, I cannot stand to eat at buffets because the thought of all the hands that have touched the serving spoons drives me up the wall, I prefer for people not to wear shoes in my house and certainly NOT in my bathroom. I could go on and on. But, I have to relive what is essentially a germaphobic's wort nightmare... I have to ride the Metro.
This morning, I got on the Metro and there were a ton of sick folks. It had been flurrying outside and, there were a lot of people who were coughing and sneezing on the train. I noticed that the FOUR people who surrounded me (one in front, one to the left, one to the ring, and one behind me) were all coughing without covering their mouths (HUGE pet peeve of mine!), and continuously sneezing. I was surrounded. I'm thinking WTF?! Why are these bastards allowed on the train?! There should be a "sick car" just for people with sniffles and hacking coughs so they don't infect the rest of us with whatever germs they are carrying! Just for that, I came straight home from work and started gulping down Vitamin C and echinacea. I am NOT trying to get sick. But, sadly, I already feel the tickle in my throat. Thanks, you sick fuckers!
Finally, I'm realizing that the cost of living in DC is continuing to increase while my salary remains the same... and I'm pretty pissed about it. The other day, Karina sent me an email advertising the 2BR Brooklyn apartment that she's moving out of at the end of the month. She asked me to pass the ad around to my friends to see if anybody would be interested in subletting her apartment. I sent it to a group of professional (employed) young friends who all live in New York. The ad listed the 2BR/1BA apartment at $1295. Can you believe these people started complaining about the fact that $1295 for a 2BR apartment was expensive?! Please show me one liveable apartment building in DC that is currently renting a 2BR apartment for $1295. You won't be able to show me that. Because it doesn't exist! At least not in a neighborhood that isn't decidedly "fringe".
The bottom-line is, WE ARE GETTING RAPED IN DC. So, how come the cost of living continues to rise, but no companies are throwing cost of living increases into our paychecks? Honestly, as you all know, I don't even care for this city, so as soon as I identify someplace that's more reasonable, and more fun with a more defined culture, I'm out of here!
I am just generally annoyed about a bunch of things (as is apparent in this post). My life is good, though. No real complaints, just a couple of random thoughts.
Now, in keeping with the "diary" theme... here are some brief updates about my life:
First of all, I'm getting fat. Okay, I've been fat... so this is not news. I guess it would be more accurate to say I'm getting fatTER. I'm not sure how this happened although I think it had something to do with the various holidays that have occurred over the last few months. Those damn holidays always set me up, man. I have a sweet tooth. I like sugar, but it doesn't like me. Unfortunately, I can't seem to get enough of sugar... but my hips are begging me to take it easy.
I have made a promise to myself that I will not shop for clothes at this size. I need some new jeans and a few new pairs of slacks for work. But I refuse to buy anything new and, instead, I've relegated myself to spandex (American Apparel is my best friend right now) until I'm back to a "normal" size. The other day, I went out with MBF wearing my signature leggings and he said, "I see you're wearing your favorite pants." He's an asshole, but I was sort of embarrassed that he noticed that my spandex was making a repeat performance. But, unless he's going to buy me new jeans with his own money, then he should really just shut the hell up! It's a good thing for me that leggings are currently considered stylish. But, knowing the fickleness of fashion, I'm sure that it'll only be a matter of time until they're passe again and I'll be an embarrassing fashion faux pas.
Next on the agenda: work. I am bored. My job doesn't challenge me. In fact, the only two challenging things about my job are
1) Making myself get up in the morning to GO to work.
2) Keeping myself awake when I get there.
Yeah. That's really it. My job is weird. The work ebbs and it flows. And when it flows... it really gushes. But when it ebbs, there is literally NOTHING to do! So, yeah. I basically have no excuse for not updating this blog on a more regular basis because I clearly have a whole hell of a lot of time on my hands to write and edit posts while I'm on the clock at work. But, that wouldn't be ethical... right? So, I'll keep my blogging to a minimum at work and instead use it to pass the time while I ride the Metro.
Ahhh... the Metro. My next topic of conversation. For those of you that know me, you'll know that I have a germ phobia. I cringe when people cough or sneeze in enclosed places, I nearly vomit if someone spits as they talk, I cannot stand to eat at buffets because the thought of all the hands that have touched the serving spoons drives me up the wall, I prefer for people not to wear shoes in my house and certainly NOT in my bathroom. I could go on and on. But, I have to relive what is essentially a germaphobic's wort nightmare... I have to ride the Metro.
This morning, I got on the Metro and there were a ton of sick folks. It had been flurrying outside and, there were a lot of people who were coughing and sneezing on the train. I noticed that the FOUR people who surrounded me (one in front, one to the left, one to the ring, and one behind me) were all coughing without covering their mouths (HUGE pet peeve of mine!), and continuously sneezing. I was surrounded. I'm thinking WTF?! Why are these bastards allowed on the train?! There should be a "sick car" just for people with sniffles and hacking coughs so they don't infect the rest of us with whatever germs they are carrying! Just for that, I came straight home from work and started gulping down Vitamin C and echinacea. I am NOT trying to get sick. But, sadly, I already feel the tickle in my throat. Thanks, you sick fuckers!
Finally, I'm realizing that the cost of living in DC is continuing to increase while my salary remains the same... and I'm pretty pissed about it. The other day, Karina sent me an email advertising the 2BR Brooklyn apartment that she's moving out of at the end of the month. She asked me to pass the ad around to my friends to see if anybody would be interested in subletting her apartment. I sent it to a group of professional (employed) young friends who all live in New York. The ad listed the 2BR/1BA apartment at $1295. Can you believe these people started complaining about the fact that $1295 for a 2BR apartment was expensive?! Please show me one liveable apartment building in DC that is currently renting a 2BR apartment for $1295. You won't be able to show me that. Because it doesn't exist! At least not in a neighborhood that isn't decidedly "fringe".
The bottom-line is, WE ARE GETTING RAPED IN DC. So, how come the cost of living continues to rise, but no companies are throwing cost of living increases into our paychecks? Honestly, as you all know, I don't even care for this city, so as soon as I identify someplace that's more reasonable, and more fun with a more defined culture, I'm out of here!
I am just generally annoyed about a bunch of things (as is apparent in this post). My life is good, though. No real complaints, just a couple of random thoughts.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
The Boys Are Back in Town: The Return of Mr. Ex
On Monday night, I ended up at an "Ethiopians for Obama" celebration on U Street. It was pretty random considering that I'm not anywhere close to being Ethiopian and I did little to help Obama get elected other than casting a vote in his favor on Election Day. Anyhow, the event was a ton of fun. Ethiopians really know how to party... Who knew?! The real news for Monday night was this: I ran into Mr. Ex's much saner, much more accomplished older brother at the party. He's ivy-league educated with an MBA (compare that to Mr. Ex's basic level of literacy) and his spirit is generally calmer than Mr. Ex's. If it wasn't for their dark and handsome good looks and charm, it'd be difficult to tell that they're even related.
Our encounter was awkward even though he and I had always been cordial even after my breakup with Mr. Ex, but I was thrown off by seeing him at this particular event (he is also NOT Ethiopian nor did he assist with the campaign) so our conversation was stilted. I noticed him watching me while I was making conversation with other partygoers and I knew that hed be texting Mr. Ex before the night was over with news of our run-in. That's why I was surprised - but not shocked - when Mr. Ex called me early the next morning.
I was watching CNN footage of President Obama leaving Blair House and on the phone with a friend when I got the call from an "unknown" number. Normally, I don't answer calls from blocked numbers, but I'd invited a number of people over to watch the Inauguration and I wasn't sure if maybe one of my guests was calling from an unfamiliar location. I answered and he said "Good morning [Brown Girl]. It's [Mr. Ex]. Happy Inauguration Day!". His voice was thick with sleep, so if he hadn't announced himself, I wouldn't have known it was him. He attempted to carry on a conversation with me, but I shut down every opening that he tried to create. He asked why I was being so short with him and I told him it was because we are not friends and that, from my perspective, there was nothing left to discuss. He asked if I still had his number. I'm not sure why, but I was honest with him. I told him that I did.
"Well, if you have my number, why don't you ever use it?" he asked playfully.
Dude, didn't I just tell you we have nothing left to talk about? I think to myself. But I don't say anything in response to that question.
He continues: "I think I'm still a great person and so are you and I always thought that, no matter what, we'd be close."
All I could do was laugh at that one. I mean, HE thinks HE is a "great person"?? That's pure comedy if I've ever heard it!
In his defense, he really sounded sincerely confused about why I wouldn't want to maintain a friendly relationship with him. In a way it was funny, so I laughed. He laughed, too.
Wow... this dude thinks I'm laughing with him when I'm really laughing at him. In a way, the whole phone call was just pathetic. Why wasn't he this interested in establishing a good rapport while we were together? Instead, he was off sticking it to the world... literally.
At any rate, I told him I was on the other line and had to go and he asked me if I would come to visit him in New York. I politely declined and, as I was hanging up, I heard him make a request for me to call him sometime. I've gotta give him credit for something - the dude is persistent, that's for sure!
I quietly reflected on that phone call for about two minutes, and then I allowed myself to once again get swept up in OBAMAnia. I spent the morning cleaning and the afternoon cooking for the friends who'd stopped by to watch the swearing-in and parade with me. We'd considered going down to the National Mall since it's only about 30 minutes away by Metro. But most of the natives I know decided to watch from home like everyone else across the world was doing. Sure, it would've been nice to BE there, but then I wouldn't have been able to SEE anything. With CNN, I had a front row seat!
At my house that day, everyone was in a jovial mood and we were all just in awe when Obama was sworn-in. Even when Justice Roberts flubbed, we just grinned through it. The time spent with friends and family was the perfect way to end such an amazing and historical weekend.
And, after I hung up with (on) Mr. Ex, I can honestly say I didn't think of him again for even a moment that day. I thought of him again a few days later when I decided to document the phone call in this post. But I can remember a time - and it wasn't too long ago - when any contact from him would've sent my world spinning off it's axis. I would've been second-guessing myself, analyzing every second of the conversation, or just would've been feeling generally BAD and uber-pensive. But, this time, I didn't even think about it. It was so irrelevant to me, I even forgot to mention it to my girlfriends until DAYS later (this was major).
It felt so liberating to not let him alter my mood. Just one word from him can turn me into a bitter, brooding, bitch... but not this time. My President is Black. On January 20, I was rejoicing. And nobody could take that joy away from me. Not even the infamous Mr. Ex.
To me, my reaction to his phone call was a sign of something...
Growth.
I like the way it feels.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
Our encounter was awkward even though he and I had always been cordial even after my breakup with Mr. Ex, but I was thrown off by seeing him at this particular event (he is also NOT Ethiopian nor did he assist with the campaign) so our conversation was stilted. I noticed him watching me while I was making conversation with other partygoers and I knew that hed be texting Mr. Ex before the night was over with news of our run-in. That's why I was surprised - but not shocked - when Mr. Ex called me early the next morning.
I was watching CNN footage of President Obama leaving Blair House and on the phone with a friend when I got the call from an "unknown" number. Normally, I don't answer calls from blocked numbers, but I'd invited a number of people over to watch the Inauguration and I wasn't sure if maybe one of my guests was calling from an unfamiliar location. I answered and he said "Good morning [Brown Girl]. It's [Mr. Ex]. Happy Inauguration Day!". His voice was thick with sleep, so if he hadn't announced himself, I wouldn't have known it was him. He attempted to carry on a conversation with me, but I shut down every opening that he tried to create. He asked why I was being so short with him and I told him it was because we are not friends and that, from my perspective, there was nothing left to discuss. He asked if I still had his number. I'm not sure why, but I was honest with him. I told him that I did.
"Well, if you have my number, why don't you ever use it?" he asked playfully.
Dude, didn't I just tell you we have nothing left to talk about? I think to myself. But I don't say anything in response to that question.
He continues: "I think I'm still a great person and so are you and I always thought that, no matter what, we'd be close."
All I could do was laugh at that one. I mean, HE thinks HE is a "great person"?? That's pure comedy if I've ever heard it!
In his defense, he really sounded sincerely confused about why I wouldn't want to maintain a friendly relationship with him. In a way it was funny, so I laughed. He laughed, too.
Wow... this dude thinks I'm laughing with him when I'm really laughing at him. In a way, the whole phone call was just pathetic. Why wasn't he this interested in establishing a good rapport while we were together? Instead, he was off sticking it to the world... literally.
At any rate, I told him I was on the other line and had to go and he asked me if I would come to visit him in New York. I politely declined and, as I was hanging up, I heard him make a request for me to call him sometime. I've gotta give him credit for something - the dude is persistent, that's for sure!
I quietly reflected on that phone call for about two minutes, and then I allowed myself to once again get swept up in OBAMAnia. I spent the morning cleaning and the afternoon cooking for the friends who'd stopped by to watch the swearing-in and parade with me. We'd considered going down to the National Mall since it's only about 30 minutes away by Metro. But most of the natives I know decided to watch from home like everyone else across the world was doing. Sure, it would've been nice to BE there, but then I wouldn't have been able to SEE anything. With CNN, I had a front row seat!
At my house that day, everyone was in a jovial mood and we were all just in awe when Obama was sworn-in. Even when Justice Roberts flubbed, we just grinned through it. The time spent with friends and family was the perfect way to end such an amazing and historical weekend.
And, after I hung up with (on) Mr. Ex, I can honestly say I didn't think of him again for even a moment that day. I thought of him again a few days later when I decided to document the phone call in this post. But I can remember a time - and it wasn't too long ago - when any contact from him would've sent my world spinning off it's axis. I would've been second-guessing myself, analyzing every second of the conversation, or just would've been feeling generally BAD and uber-pensive. But, this time, I didn't even think about it. It was so irrelevant to me, I even forgot to mention it to my girlfriends until DAYS later (this was major).
It felt so liberating to not let him alter my mood. Just one word from him can turn me into a bitter, brooding, bitch... but not this time. My President is Black. On January 20, I was rejoicing. And nobody could take that joy away from me. Not even the infamous Mr. Ex.
To me, my reaction to his phone call was a sign of something...
Growth.
I like the way it feels.
Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile
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