June 5, 2013 · 1:11 pm

How to Fix a Cheater

Tina-and-Teddy-Campbell-960x1024NEWSFLASH |  They are NOT getting a divorce.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at this month’s Ebony Magazine interview with Mary Mary. Tina Campbell’s husband (and best friend) confessed to having an affair. Shocking.  The two married in 2000, and most recently gave birth to Baby Santana in 2012. Tina states, “once I became aware [of the affair], I initially wanted to kill my husband. I was considering adjusting the will, the living trust and all that kind of stuff. I did physically try to stab him.”

Ratchet. But justified

I’ve spoken in the past about cheating and dating married men.  As the years pass, my perspective on both subject matters seems to change. In short, shit happens. I’m not married but I’m all for marriage. In fact, we are in this till death do us part…even if your cheating ways or debauchery bring me to murder! We are in this thing called marriage…FOREVER. Tina’s husband didn’t confess…he likely got caught or was on the verge of getting caught. If he supposedly confessed, her reaction would not have been as traumatic and public.  Something tells me that this isn’t the 1st time he’s been caught sliding down that slippery “side chick/mistress” slope either. This time around, according to the gospel Lipstick Alley, he was caught loving a close friend. Not sure if there’s any truth…but it makes sense as to why Tina came swinging a machete at his dick head.

I’m rooting for the two of them. Despite the hiccups, they seem to be madly in love with each other and complement one another. Furthermore, I can’t imagine Tina or Teddy allowing their haters to win by ending their long-term relationship/marriage…especially at the expense of another woman.  But that damn Tina is no joke!  If you ever want to get back at a cheater…you can do the following:

EMBARRASS THE LIVING HELL OUT OF THAT PERSON

So long are the days of forgiving, kissing, and moving on in private. You have to pull out all stops (and the PR team) to cease and desist sexual immortality. Tina supposedly learned of this affair in early 2013 and as a result gave a full on interview with a popular national black publication – Ebony Magazine. She didn’t take it to the church or call a family meeting. She took it to Ebony! On her personal fan site, she begged the public for prayer and sympathy as she fights for her marriage. She spoke candidly of needing to get a grip on her issues and even takes blame for her husband’s infidelity (further tapping into hearts of scorned wives, girlfriends, and devout Mary Mary fans). No doubt about it, Tina has every right to be upset. But bravo girl – he can no longer take a piss in public, post a tweet, Instagram, or hold his head up without a crazed follower casting stones or hate. Do you think that he can check into a private hotel room with another chick without someone on alert? Speaking of, you sent a subliminal, global message to every heaux dying to get next to your husband. You will publicly humiliate and destroy their asses too! And that my dear…is a side chick’s worst nightmare.

In all seriousness, I hope that two can move past the infidelity and pain. I have my own problems, and typically do not get caught up in other’s relationships – but I had to speak on this. I’m not the most religious girl in the word and thus did not join the two in fasting or prayer. However, I hope that the millions of fans/followers of Mary Mary lifted this couple and kept them in their prayers.

Where’s Iyanla when you need her?!

She takes the cake on fixing a cheater:

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May 16, 2013 · 5:28 pm

The Tortoise and The Hare 2013

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No doubt about it. I’m a hoe.

I stare at random hotties on the street and the only thing that comes to mind is being picked up and shoved against my tufted headboard for hot, steamy sex. I will dismiss a slim dude in a heartbeat because he CAN’T be capable of blowing my back out. Older men have become more and more appealing because the best sex I’d ever had came from a 50 year old vet. Speaking of vet, I’m dating one. A marine and he is quite the tease. I’ve been “tracking” our relationship via my handy iPhone calendar and according to her – we should be fucking by now.

He’s a nice guy.

We met at a birthday gathering and I definitely didn’t think I’d end up getting his number. He was decent, not quite my ideal man, but nonetheless clean-cut, built and attractive…but a little out of my league. We talked for hours on in about food, music, NYC, and even relationships. After two hours of chatting, he asked, “Are you single? I’d like to keep in touch with you.” Great.

“Marine Dude” is easy to talk to. He’s thoughtful, super respectful and likes to tease me about my love for Ricky Rozay. He isn’t threaten by my resume. He’s a good listener and even manages to provide thoughtful, motivating advice when I’m having a stressful day at work. He doesn’t have kids and definitely wants a family. He has his own place, car, and a job. I’ve checked every nook and cranny of the web…it’s confirmed – he’s not gay.  More importantly, he hates flying and soca music…just like me. I’m not in love…but I can safely say we’re damn near soul mates. I like him.

I do not doubt the physical attraction between us but our level of intimacy is a little off. We hug, we hold hands in public, and he kisses my cheek – but that’s it. I haven’t received a sloppy tongue kiss, a lick on the neck, a request for an ass shot – nothing. Maybe I’m over reacting but is this normal?

I’ve been dealing with assholes for so long that I can’t seem to function in a normal courtship. Not sure if my hormones are off, or if he’s taking his sweet, precious time. I can admit that I’m not the most patient person in the world. And I should probably understand that his pace is likely a lot different from mine. I ran the kissing issue across my girlfriends and in unison, they declared – that’s weird. I shrugged the comment off because he’s not weird…but I’m starting to feel little antsy. Should I make the first move? Should I have my tits up and out on our next date? What to do?!

Sigh.

I like him. And I WILL have a husband by 2015 (I’ll be 30 and I’m claiming marriage). If not Marine Dude…someone else for sure! However, I’m going to allow myself to enjoy his company and take my time…keeping in line with his pace. He’s not weird. He’s just a nice guy who is exceptionally respectful. I want to enjoy getting to know him and seeing if he is truly a potential match before adding another notch to my belt. I will not be a slave to these Nuvaring hormones! Have you ever been in this situation? Dealing with a tortoise of a man? Should there be a timeline on “adult” physical contact?

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February 28, 2013 · 5:55 pm

Why Are You Single?

I’m moody. I’m turned off by overly anxious, smothering types. I’m impatient and have low attention span. I like to laugh. I like fun, but laid back types. I want romance.  I really want a candle lit dinner on a white sandy beach…but I live in Brooklyn. I hate texters. And definitely can’t stand being on the phone several times a day. 1-2 calls/per day is enough…unless I’m completely smitten.  I don’t do well with request for pictures via text message. I’m immediately disinterested in someone that calls me chocolate, sexy, or curvy during the 1st conversation.  Keep your physical thoughts of me to yourself. I don’t do well with hood love but I like hood things. I want a OG (guy 5-10+ years older than me).  I want a black man. I like Rick Ross. I want a tall man. And I would like for you to have a little enthusiasm, motivation and passion for life. I can’t have you being content with basic shit. I like good sex, so please spare me with the weak dick. Most importantly, I need you to be mentally stable and strong enough to support the both of us. I will need your help with our pursuit of happiness.

And this is why I am single.

It took everything out of me not go across his face with my iPad. An old fuck buddy fling recently asked, “Why are you single?” and for a minute, I had no clue. I’m always out. I don’t have kids (not that it matters). And I’m well put together. What gives?

My Attitude

I’ve been single (by choice) for quite some time. I’ve grown accustomed, and intolerant, to mediocre courtship. If something or someone doesn’t necessarily work in my favor, I cut them off. I’m short and borderline cold-hearted. I’ve forgotten how to have fun and accept a date… as a date vs. marriage proposal. I’ve been doing me for so long that I do not know how to be a partner.  I’m having a hard time being soft and compromising.  I’m not flexible with certain personality traits or open to dating someone that doesn’t meet my ideal man standard. I’ve been hurt. And thus, my opinion about marriage and commitment is jaded.  My bad attitude about men, dating expectations and “textbook” standards has cost me quality time during the holiday and possibly a chance at a serious relationship. I’m working on this.

My Appearance

Coming from the Midwest -curvy, thick, voluptuous, whatever you want to call it, is the standard. It’s valued. I’ve never been more concerned about my weight and appearance until I’ve moved to New York. I’ve always been a fly, thick girl and truth be told, I have no desire to be skinny or slim. Living here and working in an industry where appearance and celebs are idolized, has forced me to be on a new workout plan, treadmill, or diet craze every other season. I used to thank God that I took my mother’s coke bottle shape vs. my dad’s linebacker body. My workout efforts used to be geared towards maintaining my build but now I’m starting to feel like my 45” bottom is a little too distracting. So distracting that I was told recently on Okcupid.com…”it’s not attractive. You would be a dime if you lost weight.” I immediately blew the comment off because I try to live by the phrase, “everything ain’t for everybody.” However, his comment did bring to surface a number of thoughts about my “geographical location” and the so-called trendy, standard of beauty.

My Approachability

I’m out almost every weekend. Brunch, mixers, concerts, bars, restaurants, lounges, gym – if men are there, I’m there. As soon as I walk into a building, I’m in classic diva, glam mode with invisible Chanel shades. I’m not approachable. I’m not naturally bubbly. I’ve tried taking a shot or 6 prior to going out and it doesn’t seem to work. My blank stare usually comes across as flirting – therefore I try to avoid eye contact. When I’m not smiling, I’m people watching and posing. And typically surrounded by my girls. It takes a lot out of me to approach men and if forced to be at an event alone, I try to act approachable but end up looking awkward. Besides, keeping a smile on my face is difficult and corny.

My Bad Habits

I’m a sucker for flashy men. I like sceney restaurants and being at the latest “it” event. I work in entertainment and media. A night out on the town, via someone’s corporate card, is usually at a lavish, swanky hotel or bar. I recognize (from a distance) and flock to men with money. I attract and love assholes. I’m not necessarily judging every tastemaker, financier, or doctor – but there’s something about a powerful ladies’ man with a nice suit, Hermes tie, and Rolex that turns me on…even if he isn’t right for me. I have a habit of hanging on because he’s good for show and tell…on Facebook.


My Ideal Man

Speaking of show and tell – my ideal man is a black man. A tall, dark and handsome black man. If he lacks a college degree, he has to be a stellar entrepreneur or skilled trade worker. Ideally, I’d like him to come from similar humble beginnings, have a strong upbringing, a relationship with God, and share similar life goals. I’m not interested in dating outside of my race or ethnic group – thus my selection pool of eligible men is very limited.  In fact, I’ll likely never date outside of my race, but will consider swapping my Rick Ross kind of man for a Terrance Howard. Well…maybe not.

Have you ever sat back and reflected on why you’re really single? Are you willing to be open and honest [with yourself] about some of the reasons why you’re single? Are you single by choice? Do you believe that some of the topics above affect you and your “relationship” status?

Check out this infograph on where the ninjas at to find black men:

Where are all the good, single black men?

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February 13, 2013 · 1:14 pm

Happy Side [Chick] Piece Day – Feb.13th

In case you didn’t know… it’s Side [Chick] Piece Appreciation Day!!!!

Whoot, Whoot!

Here’s an overview on how to be the perfect side chick:

#1 Know WHAT you’re in it for!  Always remind yourself of your position, and play it. 

#2 Shut him down if he ever brings her up. If he brings up her up in conversation, tell him the FIRST time “I don’t want to hear anything about her…”

#3 Don’t Care about “HER”… Don’t ask about “her.” Don’t stalk “her.” Don’t spy on “her.” Don’t BOTHER “her.” Don’t talk shit about “her.

#4 NO DRAMA. Don’t call her. Don’t call their house. Don’t post pics of you two. Don’t tweet him. Don’t hack his pages. Don’t pop up where they’re going to be. Don’t call him if you know he’s going home unless its an emergency

#5 Don’t get pregnant. If you’re the side chick and you get pregnant its your fault.

#6 Don’t tell your friends.

#7 Don’t Promote yourself. Don’t think you’re anything more just because you’ve met his friends and family…you’re STILL, the side chick.

To read more, check out Passport Cutty‘s blog, here. Check out her Side Piece Advice on Hot 97 here: http://www.hot97.com/sidepieceday/

Sigh. The struggle is real!

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February 5, 2013 · 1:22 pm

Wake up and smell the anesthesia

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My trips to Chicago are usually brief and limited to family visits. My time of reign in the nightlife scene came to an abrupt end just before my move to NY. Classic hotspots were  either closed, sold or renamed, promoters had moved on to throwing parties at up-in-coming strip clubs, and my small circle of friends decided to grow up and take on bigger and better things – like marriage and kids. Besides, being in the center of catfights and flipping over plates of pancakes at White Palace Grill, had become played out. It was time for me to go into permanent “hibernation.” Sidenote: Did you know the flipping over a plate or chair is vandalism?

Last winter, I decided to attend a mixer with my linesisters at a local sports bar. I was familiar with the promoter and prayed that he did not have the same following from years prior. To my surprise, I did not recognize ANYONE. I was relieved and confused. Most of the attendees were within my age bracket – but who are these people, and more importantly, where did they come from! Born and raised in Chicago (Southside). I went to college in Chicago (Northside). And if you know anything about the city of Chicago, you’d know that it is probably the most segregated city in the world. So technically, I should know just about everyone that hang out at my spots or follow a particular social crowd. I felt like a stranger in my own hometown. I had that “new girl smell” and I wanted to take full advantage of it.

I was smiling from ear to ear, holding my wine glass high in the air, serving “come & get me” to every man that looked my way. I met two decent guys that night – Chris and Mike. Chris was K-Mart fresh and funny. I wasn’t necessarily drawn to him but he kept me entertained. We didn’t exchange numbers that night but we wound up becoming Facebook friends. Mike was a different story. He was tall, dark, and fine.  He had a very commanding presence about him.  I wanted to yield to him. We exchanged numbers,  tried long distance dating from Nov – April – flying back and forth from Chicago to NY, but ultimately called it quits. Mike was relatively new to Chicago and started to reap the benefits of being a single, black doctor man in a city full of women dying to be chosen.  I’m not mad though. Chris and I, during the interim, would still randomly exchange small talk on social media outlets… but nothing more.

2012 was a very trying year for me. My trips to Chicago were frequent – I was between jobs and almost made the leap back home. Chris made every effort to date me during my visits but I would completely blow him off. Chris has no kids, like Mike – he’s doctor…an anesthesiologist to be exact and he’s only 31. So what’s the issue? I’m so embarrassed to say this…but it’s his fucking complexion.

My grandmother hailed from Shubuta, MS. She was the darkest of her mother’s children. In fact, she was the only dark skin child. Her little sister was the object of everyone’s attention and was highly favored.  This favoritism, and complex, stayed with my grandmother throughout her entire life. She constantly compared herself to her little sister (my great aunt); even though my grandmother lived a privileged, married life. Her husband, my lighter skin grandfather, gave her everything her heart desired and went above and beyond to care for their 10 kids. Her lighter skin sister did not have the same luxuries in life. It was once said that although my grandfather was short, he won over my grandmother with his complexion. She was concerned with being a kept woman and having lighter skin children. This complex was passed down to my aunts, uncles, and even my own father. My father would mention that he prefers dark skin women and doesn’t have a skin preference. However, every woman he’s dated, or married (including my mother), has been light. Although he may have grown pass the color complex phase, I still believe that he mentioned loving dark skin to appease his dark skin children – my little sister and I. Growing up I had to develop a defense mechanism to ward off bullying and hateful color slurs. Being told that you’re a tar baby or you’re going to have little black roaches as children could really do a number on your self-esteem.  I remember being in high school, shocked that a cute peanut-butter complexion boy wanted to make me his girlfriend. And I won’t even get into the shocking occurrence of seeing an interracial couple in public. The older I get, the less I start care about a complexion. However, I still have a strong preference as I have grown to believe that dark skin is exotic – it’s sexy.  It’s taking me some time to grasp that my concerns about the ideal companion should exceed the complexion of his skin.

As for Chris, he is very persistent. I was reflecting on a recent phone conversation (yes- he’s been upgraded from Facebook) and soon began to realize that my issues with his complexion …is stupid. He’s humble, smart, he makes me laugh, he can cook, no children, and we share similar interest and life goals. He’s from the South. My ignorant ass used to think he was albino but country grandmother confirmed that he’s creole. According to her, he favors a creole family she grew up with in Mississippi. Bless her heart.  He’s not albino and he’s not creole – just a lighter black man.

Do you think colorism still exist? Is there really a difference between being prejudice, “color struck” or having a preference? How has colorism affected you?

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