Once again, I’m late to the TV party. I’m currently engaged in marathon of the now cancelled AMC show “Breaking Bad.” I’m enjoying the show, however, I don’t know how people watched it week-to-week for 5 whole seasons. Continue reading
The answer: Everybody!
I just finished watching a recording of ‘The Wendy Williams Show.’ During the “Hot Topics” segment, she talked about Ryan Secrest hanging out with the brother of his now EX-girlfriend, Julianne Hough. (Let’s just agree to ignore the obvious, ok?). Wendy posed the question to her audience: Is it ok to continue to hang out with your friend or family member’s ex?
My answer: Continue reading
I decided on my birthday that I was too fat and wanted to lose weight. I decided to get serious about my health and started making changes. I got serious again in April and joined and gym and got a trainer. I got even more serious in August and modified my diet drastically, but with changes I knew I could sustain long term. As a result, I’ve lost a few pounds and a few inches. (It’s actually more than a few, but that’s another blog for another day.)
As I prepare to clear my closet of clothes that no longer fit (almost 50% of all the clothes in my closet), I am realizing that more than my closet requires decluttering. I need to declutter my life. Continue reading
I’m watching “Marrying The Game” on VH1. Judge me. A friend of the fiancé just said “You’re expecting Jayceon to love you the way you want to be loved versus accepting that he’s loving you the way he knows how.” The fiancé replied, “He thinks providing is loving.” The friend responded, “Most men do.”
The friend is absolutely right. I’ve had a similar conversation with my own girlfriends but from a slightly different perspective. I believe that all men need to be needed. The disconnect between men and women comes when women fail to realize that men don’t view needs the same way we do. Most men view being needed in financial terms. If they are providing for you financially, they believe they’re doing everything they need to do to maintain a healthy relationship. Conversely, they feel completely inadequate if they can’t provide financial support. What many men fail to realize is that a lot of us don’t need our bills paid. We need someone to slay the dragons!.
Another disconnect: men aren’t the best communicators. To compound that issue, women often talk a lot but say a bunch of nothing. Neither of these traits are conducive to effective communication or problem solving. So men never get the point that “yeah, the money is nice, but I have other needs too.” And women never clearly distinguish the real needs from the noise.
Maybe men really are from Mars and women really are from Venus.
I was listening to the Tom Joyner Morning Show this morning and an interesting topic came up: “Have You Ever ‘Dipped Back’ to an Old Relationship for a New Fling?”
The topic reminded me of a blog I wrote some years ago – “The Ghosts of Chrissy’s Past.” Virtually every one of my exes has come back at some point. All except the ONE I would actually take back. Sometimes they come back with the old “Hey, how’ve you been? Long time no hear. We should catch up sometime” and later work their way up to the point of contacting me. Other times they get right to the point, “Hey, I was thinking about us and that we should give it another try.”
I’ve done it. I’ve dipped back a time or two. I’ve fallen for the banana in the tailpipe. When I dipped back I found that it didn’t work for one of two reasons. Either 1) he was the exact same person he was back then, which made us (still) incompatible or 2) he’d changed but so had I and the people we’d become were (also) incompatible. Either way, Le Partie Deux, needed to be cut short. Most of my friends who’ve dipped back have had similar experiences. Because of this I lean toward the thought that the successful ‘dip back’ is more likely the exception than the rule. So, I’ll stick to the conclusion of the old blog. Check it out. Enjoy!
You’re Perfect! Wait for Me: Ghosts of Chrissy’s Past (2007)
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard the following statement: “You’re perfect. You’re smart, pretty, kind, ambitious, caring. You’re just wonderful. You’re exactly the kind of woman I want to marry . . . someday.”
Starting way back in my Junior and Senior years in college I started hearing that speech or something very similar. Later in my twenties, when I started to consider the possibility of marriage, I found the speech to be incredibly frustrating. Here I was at a point in my life where I felt I was ready to consider marriage and I was being told by almost all the men I dated that I was exactly what they wanted . . . someday.
Intellectually, I understood. They simply weren’t ready. And I’m not one to push anyone who isn’t ready. I guess my problem with the statement is that they somehow seemed to think I’d wait for them. That I’d want them 10 years down the line after they’d sewn their wild oats.
Well, it’s ten years later (for some of them). These men are now 30 – 35 and guess what; theeyyyyyy’rrrrreeeeee baaaaaccccccckkkkkkkkkkk!!!!!!
Dudes from my past have been showing up like roaches in the projects. They’re everywhere. I guess they’ve sewn their wild oats and “someday” has finally arrived. Lucky me? Not so much. I may have been willing to entertain the option of exploring a relationship after a number of years apart had they not given me “the speech.” Having heard the speech it feels like I was placed on hold. It’s like they said, “If nothing better comes along then I’ll go scoop up Chrissy.” Doesn’t it just give you the warm fuzzies? Nah, not so much.
So to all the fellas who put Chrissy on the back burner until someday, yeah, I’m still available. But I’m not available to you.
I don’t have a “scary” age. I’ve never had one and don’t ever plan to have one. I am, however, in the age group where many of my peers are at their scary age, quickly approaching their scary age or they’re depressed because they’ve long ago passed their scary age. Let me explain the concept of the “scary age” for you non-Sex and the City viewers. The scary age is the age at which women start to panic if they haven’t married and/or had children and it usually coincides with a woman’s biological clock. The scary age is viewed as the entrance to spinsterhood. If you aren’t married with kids by the time you hit your scary age then you may as well start making doilies and buying cats.
The main reason I’m opposed to setting a scary age is because women who are nearing their scary age become neurotic. They do some of the most insane things you’ll ever hear of. Take for instance the 46-year-old woman on the We TV show “Bridezillas.” She had an adult daughter but had never been married. On the reality show she married a 38-year-old “salesman.” She paid for the entire wedding with no assistance from him. This “salesman” was away from home for four months at a time because he was traveling “on business.” I’m not the only one who thought this sounded a bit suspect. Her adult daughter and sister both thought it was suspicious that his job didn’t even allow him to come home on the weekends. When he was in town, his hometown also, he lived with her, drove her car (because he didn’t have one) and used her cell phone (because he didn’t have one). Let’s just ignore the housing situation. What kind of salesman doesn’t have a car or cell phone? Most companies supply these items. And even if the company doesn’t supply the car, the employee is required to own a vehicle. Despite the protests of her family the 46 year-old ignored her fiancé’s shortcomings and married him anyway. She married him despite the fact that he first failed to show up at their wedding, leaving her at the alter. He finally showed up at her house the next day, apologized and they went to Vegas to get married. I don’t set a scary age because I don’t want to be so desperate to make it happen that I settle for a “man” like this one.
I also don’t want to be the chick who shows up to a relationship with a timeline. (The following is a true story) A 32 year old woman gave up a, by all accounts, perfectly good man after a year and a half of dating because he was not ready to propose to her by a given date and married to her within six months of that date. After having dated for a year she informed him that a proposal would be required by the 18-month mark, exactly six months from the date of the conversation. When the date arrived, and he had not purchased a ring or made a proposal, she presented him with a prepared statement advising him that if he was not willing to make the proposal that day, and commit to a wedding date on that same day, that she would be leaving the relationship. He let her know that he would not be making the proposal. They ended their relationship that very day.
Then there’s the woman I refer to as “Atomic Clock.” This woman would meet a new guy, fall in love and become “engaged” within six months. I use quotation marks because there was never a ring. In my mind, men aren’t serious until they’ve spent money on a ring. Within three months of the “engagement” the couple would break up and she would start the cycle all over again. It was as if she were so desperate to find a husband, any husband, that she would blindly jump into relationships in the hopes that she might finally be able to check off “get married” on her list of things to do.
I don’t fully blame this outlandish behavior on the neurotic women. I partly blame society and the pressures it puts on women to be married with children. I also blame the socio-economic factors, and plain old ignorance, that have created the ever-dwindling pool of suitable men. When you subtract the men who are: already married, in jail, gay, bisexual (aka gay in waiting), unemployed, uneducated or addicted, there are but 3 or 4 men left for us single chicks to fight over. As a result of the relatively few, decent men available, women are putting up with all kinds of unimaginable nonsense.
I watch these women and I’m sad for them. I’m sad for the ones who’ve settled for less than they deserve and are miserable in their relationships. I’m sad for the ones I watch cling to a piece of a man just so they can say they have one. And I’m even sadder for the ones who desperately want to be mothers so they’re making a go at it with men who aren’t good people or good boyfriends and will likely be even worse fathers. And even more than being sad for them, I am determined not to become one of them.
I sometimes wish ending a friendship in real life were as simple as it is on Facebook.
[Are you sure you want to unfriend _______? YES or NO}
[ _______ has been unfriended.]
Wouldn’t that be awesome? Two simple clicks and you’re rid of the person you no longer want to engage you in conversations you don’t want to have. They will no longer be able to send you invitations to events you don’t want to attend (at least not with them). You won’t have to run into them at your friends’ place. It’s just over!
That’d be great!
Normally when I’m ready for a friendship to be over, I simply “Fade to Black.”(FTB) With the FTB, there’s never any drama. There are never any harsh words that you two can’t come back from. There are no hurt feelings (well, maybe there are, but you’re not around to see them). It’s just over and everyone moves on. At least that’s how it’s supposed to work.
Every now and again, the FTB doesn’t work. The person you’re trying to shake, just won’t go away. They seem not to pick up on the non-verbal cues that you are no longer interested in their company. The fact that you no longer respond to their phone calls, texts and emails seems to be lost on them. The fact that you’ve declined all of their invitations to hangout seems meaningless to them. The fact that you (still) won’t accept their Facebook Friend Request somehow goes right over their heads. And the worst part is when they ask “Did I do something?” You want to respond, “Yes, as a matter of fact you did. You ignored my Fade to Black!!”
I’m not sure who said it, but people often credit Oprah with the quote “When someone shows you who they are, believe them.” I believe them. And once I’m a believer, if I don’t like what I’ve seen, I remove myself from the situation. Sometimes I FTB because I catch someone in a lie. Not the kind where it’s possible they were mistaken or misspoke. I’m talking the kind of bold, unsolicited lie that makes your skin crawl. Sometimes I FTB because I think the person is a gossip “A dog that will bring a bone will carry a bone.” (My momma) Again, I’m not talking about an innocent sharing of information, but rather sharing with me intimate details of someone else’s life that would devastate the person if they knew I knew. Sometimes I FTB because the person is too clingy. If you know me, you know that I move like a lone wolf. I know lots of people and I have a good deal of people that I call friends. Yet and still, I am very comfortable all by my lonesome. As such, I’m a little unnerved by people who expect me to become their Siamese twin. Not interested!
So, after the FTB fails and I’m forced to address the situation head on, someone ends up with hurt feelings. And I’m always blamed for the hurt feelings. Sure, by the time I realize my FTB has failed, what little patience and tact I possess has been exhausted. This leads to a harsher than necessary explanation of why I no longer wish to be in the company of the offending party. This leads to the offending party being offended. They usually share their hurt with others and, hence, Chrissy is the bad guy. However, had they just left me alone when I attempted to disappear, all of this could have been avoided.
The moral of the story, kids, is that “When someone shows you who they are, believe them!” When I show you that I’m no longer interested in your friendship, believe me!