Yup. I'm on hiatus

Hello my loves!
I've been totally sucky at keeping up the blog lately, and for this I sincerely apologize. Not having a working internet connection is really putting a damper on things, and with the amount of sh*t that is currently being thrown on my head right now, I can't really focus on the blog. So as much as it pains me to do it, I think I'm gonna have to take an official break until things settle down here in the crappy 3-dimensional world.
I should be back up and running in the new year. I hope you will all still be with me. I'll do my best to throw something up here now and then in the meantime so you don't completely forget about me.

Take care.
max

Don't call me baby

Oe of the most fun parts of a new relationship for me is figuring out what I'm gonna call him. I'm usually looking for two things; a pet name and a euphemism with which I refer to him when analyzing the minutiae of our relationship with mentioning him to friends. My euphemisms are usually descriptive; "the old one", "the young one", "waiter dude", "bathroom grabber", while my pet names are a little more problematic.

I tend to favour weird pet names (regular readers should connect this to my constant references to my first love as "Snickers"). I'm particularly partial to "cher" as a pet name - it's French for dear - but have yet to encounter a man who would allow me to call him that.  One of my best friends is programmed in my phone as "lovesponge" and most of my friends get a random "ers" tagged to their names somehow - I have a Manzers, and Jemmers, and a Vivers, for example. My sister will forever be known as Marshie-poo. But my absolute favourite thing to call people is "fuckface". I don't know where this came from or why I'm so attached to it, but once I get to liking someone, it starts to bubble out of my mouth seemingly beyond my control. As you can imagine, it does not go over so well.
In my checkered past, I've been known by many names - "Big Baby", "Indian", and "Mad Max", to name a few.  But by far the most popular pet name is, you guessed it: "baby". I'm not sure why Baby is such a common pet name, but I do my best to staunch the truth my reflex reaction - that it infanitilizes and therefore minimizes women. As much as I'm sure Simone de Beauvoir would agree with that theory, I suspect it has something more to do with the fact that caring about someone tends to inspire the desire to nurture, protect, and care for someone; just as you would a baby. Or maybe we all just listen to too much popular music.

At any rate, I've never been a big fan of being called Baby. It's far too generic for a weirdo like me. When it happens, I grin and bear it, but it's just another one of those little things that show me he's not the one.

And just in case my soulmate is somewhere out there reading this, here's a tip for you: don't call me Baby.

The Dull Roar

I spent the years between ages 18 and 20 with a permanent knot in my stomach. Those were the years between when I met my first love and when we finally got together. In that time, everything was so extreme; the good things sent me soaring and the bad things had me bawling. The day he first kissed me (May 24 1995) was the happiest day of my life and thoughts of the day we broke up make me lower than even thoughts of his death do.
In the years since Snickers, there have been a lot of highs and lows. I've been sent soaring by other kisses and been plunged to the depths of misery by other breakups. That's what love is all about, right?
Except somewhere along the line, I decided I've had enough of it. At 34 I'm exhausted. Rather than thrilling me as they once did, the ups and downs of love and relationships just wear me out. Chemistry and attraction just don't do it for me anymore; now when I meet a man who gives me butterflies I either relegate him to jumpoff status or run for the hills.
These days, compatibility and manners are what send me swooning (to the extent that I'm capable of swooning anymore). You can have the heat of passion; I'll take the dull roar of comfort any day. I find life infinitely more enjoyable without a knot in my stomach.


sent while running the streets

You Want to Sleep Where?!?

As I may have mentioned a time or two, I don't like sleepovers. Now considering the fact that I'm a bachelorette for life, I would have thought that this was no big deal; I was under the impression that sleepovers were the exclusive domain of serious relationships. But apparently, this is not so. Apparently it's an acceptable process to stay the night after you've bumped uglies with someone, even if they're not your current one true love.

Well I'm here to tell you people: I do not get it. I don't get sleeping at someone's house and I absolutely don't get someone sleeping at mine. In the immortal words of DrJayJack, "You need to get up and move your ass out of there before the doors close" (source). We're done, we cuddled, I'm tired. It's time for you to go. What's so wrong with that?

I used to think this was one of those ways in which my mind works like a man, but as I get older (and so do my victims) I'm realizing that I might be alone on this one. It seems getting up and leaving afterward is a must-do for a jumpoff, but a wifey or wifey-to-be is expected to stay. Yet another reason to permanently avoid wifey status if you ask me. But it does beg an interesting question for my male readers out there; does a woman who insists on leaving after it's over give off jumpoff vibes??

 Give me your two cents in the comments.

You know you want it

Hello people!
Sorry for being MIA - I'm having some technical issues and have been reduced to Blackberry blogging...those of you who know me in real life know how problematic that is. But fret not - I'll have all kinds of interesting things for you to disagree with once my computer is over its dramatic moment.
Anyway. The other night I was in bed watching my beloved Raptors and happened to flip to The Hills on a commercial just in time to catch a very interesting conversation between Kristin and Brody. For those smartie pants out there who do not torture themselves by watching The Hills, these two are 'friends' who apparently have some kind of romantic history and are 'hanging out' while Brody is on a break from his girlfriend. Or I should say that Brody thinks they're just hanging out and Kristin wishes they were dating. All caught up now? Good.
So now K and B are hanging out and she starts digging (a girl's favourite pastime) and asking 'what are we doing? And where is this going?' (a girl's favourite question). Being a typical man, Brody deflects the question by asking her where she wants it to go. But does she come right out and tell him she wants to date him? Oh no of course not. She's all evasive and says 'I just don't want to get hurt'.
Almost every woman I know does this, and I wonder if we really think we're fooling anyone. Asking a man 'where is this going?' in and of itself is just like hanging a big dirty 'I want a relationship!' sign across your neck, isn't it? Lucky for us gals, men don't always clue into that right away. That's why they turn around and ask  us what we want. And then we lie. We say 'I don't know', 'I'm just having fun getting to know you', 'I just don't want to get my feelings hurt', and other evasions and half-truths when what we really mean is 'I want to lock you down'. Right? Because if we were just looking to get our parts oiled for fun, wouldn't we just say that? I don't think people really concern themselves with what's gonna happen unless they're worried that whatever happens is gonna involve a big ole punch in the face.
But that's just my opinion. What say you peeps?

Other People's Logic - Your RMV

This topic comes courtesy of Justin, one of my favourite people to bump into when I’m running the streets. If you live in Toronto and you don’t know about tdot.tv, head over there (after you read this post) and check it out. Thank me later.

I was watching this video this morning. I thought it was interesting, it certainly made my head spin a bit, but I had another post for today in mind so I filed it under pending blog posts and went about my business. But my mind just kept running back to it so I figured the universe was trying to tell me to write about it today.

For whatever reason I wasn’t able to embed the video in here so I’ll give you the highlights. It’s called “Why You Must Know your RMV Before Dating”. Your RMV is your “relationship market value” – all my business majors can understand that one. Basically the idea is that you must first assess what you are (note that – what you are, not who you are) before you can assess what you want in a partner. Are you a fatty? Then you have no right expecting to land a man who is in shape. Do you have a successful career? Then yes, you may have a financially stable man. Do you have kids? Yes? Then no you may not have an unencumbered man. And on and on she goes.

Now let me be fair and say that she’s not as harsh as I’m making her sound. She does say, quite rationally, that if you are a couch potato and you’re looking for Mr. Universe 2009 there will be a disconnect.  “He values physical fitness and you don’t”. Reasonable enough, right? But there’s something about this whole concept that offends me. It’s the…commercialization of relationships, I guess. All this emphasis on what we are and what we have and what we can rationally expect our partners to be and have just makes me sad. It doesn’t leave much room for organic attraction, does it? If we all approach dating this way, where will we ever find another King Edward and Wallis Simpson? Another Romeo and Juliet? Those are kind of overblown examples, but you get what I mean.

Now if you’re a regular reader of this blog, you should be calling me a hypocrite right now. And it’s true that I don’t know many people who have more rules, guidelines, and codes for dating than I do. But in my defense, none of them have much to do with how a man looks on paper. 

Case in point: A few months ago I was chatting with a girlfriend about a man I had my eye on. The first three questions she asked me were what he does for a living, does he have a car, and whom does he live with? My answers? I don’t know, I don’t know, and I don’t know. I don’t ask those questions because I don’t see what real relevance they have to my life at the beginning of a relationship.  What is relevant to me is the intangible things; does he have manners (always my first question!), is he funny, is he smart (whether he’s educated or not), does he have similar values and tastes, does he have pets? Those things matter to me and I don’t much like compromising on them. But the other stuff to me just smacks of riding someone else’s coattails. What do I need a rich man for if not to get him to buy me something? What good does a bodybuilder do me other than to lift me up and carry me around? As long as I feel that each of us can hold our on in a relationship; that we’re each contributing and trying on an equal level (and that has nothing to do with financial contribution), I think the rest of it can fall into place.

The thing about this way of thinking is this: Isn’t it just a little too easy to find a man who matches my level of education, my income level, and  lives in as nice a neighbourhood as I do but is a complete asshole? I think it’s a bit of putting the cart before the horse. What someone looks like on paper doesn’t mean much to me. I know I sure as hell don’t look good on paper and a man who subscribes to the RMV way of thinking will surely pass me by.  But he’ll be missing out.

You'll come around

If you’re single and in your mid-thirties, you’re extremely lucky you’ve probably figured out a few things about yourself. You know what you believe, who you are, what you want out of a relationship, and what you like and don’t like.  And while we all recognize that self-exploration never really ends, once you get to a point where you really know yourself, it’s a little easier to make the tough decisions in life. At least it should be.

If you know me in real life you know that some of my “fundamental truths” about life are a little…weird.  I don’t believe in sleepovers. I consider bad manners a worse offense than lying. I would never dump a man for cheating (if he did it the right way). Chivalry and generosity make me uncomfortable. I believe married people should live in separate houses. I hate pets. I don’t like going to the movies.

With all these idiosyncrasies, things with a new dude get off to a bit of a rocky start. While I believe in strategic honesty, bombarding a man with all this weirdness right from the start can be a little off-putting, don’t you think? But at the same time, I am a weird, strange, and quirky girl and to not let a man know that from jump would be wrong.

But whether I drop my wisdom weirdness on a man right from the beginning or after I’ve locked him in with pussy somewhere down the line, his reaction is always interesting. Some men will agree. A lot of them will try to argue me out of my way of thinking. And in between are the dudes who say “You’ll come around”.

“You’ll come around” is usually prefaced with some kind of smug, one-sentence dismissal of my point of view (and therefore the thought process behind it). It goes something like this:

Max: “I don’t like cats and I have no intention of ever living with one.”
Dude: “Oh you just haven’t met my cat yet. You’ll come around.”

Max: “I don’t want to sleep at your house. I have a bed and an apartment that I love and pay for.”
Dude: “Oh you’re just afraid of intimacy. You’ll come around.”

Max: “I like being single and am in no hurry to tie myself down.”
Dude: “Oh you’re just hurt. You’ll come around.”

These conversations make me want to stab someone in the eye.

Here’s my thing. My way of thinking makes sense to me. It doesn’t make sense to everyone else because they’re stupid and I get that. I don’t proselytize and I don’t expect anyone to come around to my way of thinking. I let people be who they are. Or I try to, anyway. But what “you’ll come around” implies is that my way of thinking is wrong and that spending a little time with this person will allow me to see the light and come around to his way of thinking. Which FYI is just as preposterous to me as my way of thinking is to him.

But what’s a girl to do with a man like this? Do I throw him back or do I give his propaganda point of view the fair consideration he has not given mine? Most times when a man says something like this to me, a light flicks on in my brain that says “This is not the man for you”. I don’t tell him that and I will continue to spend time with him, but with the knowledge that this isn’t going to be something long-term. And then it ends. Usually because I didn’t come around.

I cheated…but I love you!

Today’s topic comes courtesy of Mizzlovelippz who responded to my desperate twitterplea for something – anything! – to write about when the well was running kinda dry. (We also have to give a little shout-out to Boboleechron who suggested I write about “rainy days and stewed pigtail”, even though I couldn’t find a way to make that fit for the blog).

Ah, cheating. It’s one of my favourite relationship issues because it is so ripe with material. Who cheats more, how we cheat, why we cheat, what is cheating, it’s a never-ending discussion. But for today we will focus on MizzLoveLippz’s question, which was this:

Wo/men who cheat and claim they love their [partner]

Are cheating and love mutually exclusive? Consider this scenario. I have cheated once in the past. Well, twice if you want to get technical about it but the second time didn’t really count. I’ve also been cheated on. My first love and I cheated on each other in different ways, for different reasons, and we chose different methods of dealing with it. I was looking for something that I was missing in our relationship; a level of closeness that Snickers would not let us achieve. And I think he was looking to punish me, probably for that and various other things that had gone on over the years.

I think cheating gets a bad rap. People are quick to blame, accuse, judge, and scorn a cheater without examining the behaviour that contributes to the cheating. Not that I’m justifying it, but the truth is that in a relationship, we hurt each other in a lot of ways; we abuse trust, we withdraw attention and affection, we betray and we disrespect our relationships. But none of those behaviours seem to carry the same stigma as cheating, and I wonder why that is.

Consider the case of Jon and Kate. If you follow me on twitter you know that I was near to barfing watching Kate’s interview on Monday night. Not just because of her bad mullet I disagree with the notion of bad mouthing the father of your children on television, but because her version of what has gone on is just way too convenient for me. She has a trump card and she’s using it – the ‘photographic evidence’ of Jon’s infidelity is the shield behind which she deflects all blame or responsibility for the demise of her marriage. But what she seems to be forgetting – or what she clearly wants us to forget – are the ways in which she went wrong; from what I’ve seen of the show, she belittled, undermined, and emasculated that man on the regular. So is it any surprise that he took up with some young thing that probably made him feel like a god?

None of which is to say is that it’s our fault when our partner cheats on us; but the fact is that people have needs and if they’re not met in one place they will – consciously  or not – seek to meet them elsewhere. That’s just life.

So what does all this mean, really? Does the fact that Snickers and I cheated mean we didn’t love each other? I’m inclined to say no. I think that what I did was completely incidental to the relationship; to be honest I really wasn’t thinking about Snickers at all at the time.  And in a lot of ways, what I did was helpful to our relationship…it made me more careful with him than I would have been otherwise. As for Snickers, I think his act of cheating in itself had nothing to do with me or how he felt about me, but I know that the way he chose to go about it was a kind of punishment. And in the end, it wasn’t what he did that caused our undoing, but how he did it. And even though the relationship ended, the love never did.

I guess the main distinction for me is the way in which the cheating was done. Can a man love his fiancée and still get a fast hood suck from a stripper at his bachelor party? I’d say yes. But does a man who loves his wife have an affair with her sister for 10 years before he files for divorce and tries to take their children away? I’m not so sure.  I think it comes down to whether the act of cheating is really taking anything away from the relationship. If my boyfriend or husband got a little beats from a side girl from time to time, it wouldn’t even faze me. To me, that is taking nothing from me and our relationship is continuing uninterrupted regardless. But if my boyfriend was wining and dining another woman, confiding in her, and sharing details of our relationship with her, please believe we’re gonna have some problems, even if he never saw her privates. 

That being said, cheating is still an assholey thing to do. Unless you’re lucky enough to be with someone like me who doesn’t give a shit, that fast beat that you grabbed on the side is gonna cause your girl a whole lot of hurt if she finds out. And the fact that you’re willing to take that risk might not mean that you don’t love her, but it definitely says something about you. And not in a good way.

i swoon...

for man cleavage. I just think it is the most delicious ever. A man with good cleavage just drives me to distraction! And I thank the gods of man cleavage for bringing this trend into my life because these days, nearly everywhere I go I see it. And I drool.

I mean, really. Just look at this:

Whew. I'm starting to sweat.

If you want me to swoon over you good man cleavage too, check out this guide on MensXP.

And if I can't have it, then I'm fakin' it

Ah the big O. I've talked about this before but a discussion that came up at Inside Our Heads the other night prompted me to re-examine it.  We were discussing the importance of orgasms and whether the ladies on the panel ever faked it. And after a quick internal debate about whether I should tell the truth, I admitted that yes, I'm a faker.

See here's the thing: I'm a cerebral person. My brain never shuts off, so the concept of just being in the moment doesn't really compute for me. During secksy time I will invariably be distracted...sometimes it's by something as small as the ticking of a clock or a song playing in the background; sometimes i'm thinking about the meaning behind what is happening. But either way, the constant machinations of my brain often stand between me and my O and no matter what the man is laying on me, it's just not gonna happen. And so, in the interest of getting my beauty sleep, I have to get my "When Harry Met Sally" on so I can move on with my life.

I know some of you are side-eyeing me right now wondering why I can't just be honest. But if you've been paying attention you should know by now that I soooo can. The problem is, that sometimes it's just not worth it. Because when you tell a man that the Big O is not imminent, moretimes he will take it as a personal challenge. You've laid down the gauntlet for him and he's not going out without a fight. He will pull out his "best" material to assert his manhood and drag you kicking and screaming to the summit. Before the night is over, you will have sweated out your press n curl and begun to chafe in unpleasant ways. See where all that honesty gets you? Tired, sticky, sweaty, frizzy, and stinging. All of which could be avoided with a few strategically-timed moans and muscle contractions.

I will admit though that there is the rare exception to the above scenario. And that is when you encounter the man that will accept that sometimes the O is not about him. This dude's manhood does not rest on the back of your orgasm and he will accept what you say and still try to make it an enjoyable experience for both of you. He might ask you what he can do to help you get there, but he's not pressing the issue.  Unfortunately, this the exception rather than the rule and you can't bank on this outcome. So I say just make it believable and move on with your life.

My name is max, and I'm a faker.

Oh You Have Kids??

I was reading this on my very favourite blog the other day and got to thinking about men and kids. If you're a single woman in your 30's you're probably going to encounter this a time or two on your quest for Mr. Right. I know I have, anyway.

I know a few women who absolutely will not date a man with kids. And I know a lot more who are slightly turned off by it, but will still date him. Personally I don't have a problem with it, but I will admit that there have been a few times when I've had issues with the way a man I've been involved with has handled the um, situation. Let's review:

My longtime readers might remember this post where I talked about going on a date with a man who had an unidentified child in the car with him when he picked me up. In the front seat, no less. He didn't acknowledge that the child - who I can only assume was his son - was there, nor did he mention it to me after he had dropped the child off.  I thought that was kind of strange and it turned me off him even before the ensuing hallway incident.

There was another incident when I was dating a dude with a daughter named Unique (I dated two different men with daughters named Unique, isn't that ironic?). Once we were dropping her off at her mother's house on our way somewhere (Sidebar: the mother had the same first name as me, isn't that weird?) and in the car the daughter kept saying "Daddy, why is SHE in the car? Why can't I sit in the front". Which I thought was just rude. If I had done that as a child, I would have got a slap for talking like that about one of my parents' friends.

Then I dated another man who told me in our first conversation that he had a daughter. Great - I like when they tell me up front. He spoke proudly of her and was clearly a very attentive and doting father. Amazing. But much later I found out that when we met actually had two daughters. And another on the way (with an ex) who was born about six months into our two-year dalliance, but he never mentioned the other two daughters. I never understood why that one daughter was important enough to be acknowledged but the other two had to remain secrets. I thought it was mean and it was a big turn-off.

There was another one who I dated for a few months and he never told that he had kids. I only found out because we bumped into a mutual friend who asked about them and he had no choice but to come clean. Now I get that not every parent feels comfortable talking about their kids right from the get-go, but I'm not a fan of it. I think keeping your children a secret is kinda weird...

I almost never ask a man if he has children. And if he mentions it to me, I probably won't ask him much about it. Not because I'm not interested, but because I think it's up to him to decide what he wants to tell me. I have seen way too many women feign interest in a man's children in order to ingratiate themselves and I think it's kinda gross. And while I understand that the children are an essential part of the man, I just don't think it's my business while things are new. But then again, I have a natural reticence for asking questions, so it might be just another manifestation of that.

I never really understood what the big deal is about dating a man with children. Maybe it's because I come from a blended family myself and daydreamed about being a stepmother when I grew up (I was a strange child), but I've never had a problem with it. Having children is a beautiful thing so why I would fault someone for having done it is a complete mystery to me. I will get turned off immediately by a deadbeat dad, but a caring, conscientious, and invested father? swoon, swoon, swoon.

who shot john?

I spent my first two years in Toronto involved in a ridiculous relationship with a complete asshole. I’m sorry for speaking ill of the dead to me, but really those who know me know that this guy was just…no good. When I go back now and read my diaries from that time I’m shocked by how heinously this guy treated me and the worst part about it is that I can’t even ask myself why I let it happen because I already know the reason. I let all that shit happen because I understood this dude.  I knew how he was raised, how the world had treated him, what he had been through, and how all of that contributed to him becoming the selfish asshole he was at that time (and likely still is).

Because I understood so much about this man, I could understand why he did the shit he did. Not to over-simplify, but it was almost as though he couldn’t help it – no, it was more like he truly did not know better. And because at that time I was not the mouthy bitch you now know and love, I never really tried to explain to him what was wrong with what he did, I just understood and took it and took it until I could take it no more.

As a chronic over-thinker, I spend a lot of time examining the motivation behind the actions of the people around me. And as a classic Libra, I find myself a little too capable of seeing both sides. This is a great quality in a humanitarian or a diplomat, but for a serial dater it can be a bit of a problem. Why, you ask? Because it’s difficult to drum up the appropriate level of righteous indignation when someone does you wrong if you can understand exactly why they did it. This is a quality I used to really enjoy, but as I get older (and more bitter?) I find it mildly maddening.  In my twenties I had patience and sympathy for people, in my thirties I say, eff a who shot john.

The who shot john is the back-story…the rhetoric and bullshit that explain why your new guy isn’t calling, your bff isn’t being supportive, your boyfriend won’t go down. I could have called this post “do feelings trump behaviour” because that’s really the crux of this issue…if your wo/man does something wrong to you, but you know they care for you and you understand why s/he did it, does that make it okay?

In the past, the who shot john could excuse a multitude of sins for me, but now I’m starting to wonder if it matters at all. Yes, I can certainly understand a man who is too busy and too stressed to pick up the phone and call me, or a man who is too gun-shy to claim me as his girl. I can understand a recently-heartbroken friend who finds it difficult to be enthusiastic about my new dude and I can understand a boyfriend who has been socialized to think that oral sex is nasty. But where does all that understanding really get me?

At this point, I think I’m tired of understanding people. I’m tired of giving them leeway because of my insight into their neuroses. At the end of the day, people either choose to let their hang-ups get the better of them or they don’t.  So behaviour is really what’s important to me. If john is lying bleeding on the floor in front of me, does it really matter who shot him?

The 10 Commandments

My absolute favourite part of Secrets of a Black Boy was what they called "How to Get a Man in 10 Easy Steps".  As soon as they said that I was scrambling for my blackberry to get them down so I could share them with you. It's not actually a step-by-step plan to get a man, but more like some commandments to help you keep one. And of course, my two cents on each of them.
Ready? Here you go:

1. Never give it up in the first month
I agree with the sentiment behind this, but not the arbitrary timeline. I do think that the unevolved man will think less of a woman if she gives it up too early, but at the same time I don't think waiting is a guarantee of anything.

2. Never go to bed in a head tie
You already know what I think about this one. I won't say don't go to bed in a head tie, but it is important to preserve your sexy. Head tie + flannel cow-printed pajamas is not what's hot in the sheets.

3. Stop your partying ways
This one I don't really get. Apparently there is something wrong with a girl who is in the clubs too much, but I'm not really clear on what that is. If there is a man out there who would care to illuminate me, I'd be ever so grateful.

4. Get some girlfriends and lose the guy friends
Okay I partially get this one - a woman who has no female friends is kind of a warning sign...I guess. But on the other hand, it can be hard to make friends as an adult female. Especially for an attractive woman because women can be catty as hell. I don't see why she has to lose her guy friends though.

5. Don't mention kids or marriage in the first year
I'm torn on this one...I guess I think it's good advice for a woman who isn't looking to get married or have kids right away, but if that's your #1 goal then I think there's something to be said for being upfront about it. I knew a woman once who told a man on their first date "I'm looking to settle down and I'm not interested in wasting my time. So if that's not what you're looking for tell me now so I can move on with my life".  That was a pretty risky move but it worked out for them - they're married now and have a baby on the way. If she hadn't mentioned it, and that wasn't what he was looking for, wouldn't she have basically wasted a year of her life?

6. Men need sex like water and air. You need to give it up and give it up properly.
Co-sign. No need to really say any more than that.

7. Culture yourself.
This one I think was about women needing to expand their horizons...I think there was a line like "don't look at the plate of sushi and ask where's the ackee and saltfish". This is a sticky one for me because I am very particular about what I like and don't like, what I will and will not eat, etc. etc. and it takes a lot to make me deviate from it. But I won't stop anyone from doing what they want to do so if I'm dating someone and he wants sushi I will gladly go, but I'm not eating it. Sorry.

8. Don't be telling your friends our business.
Ha! Oh men, you make no sense. You don't want us to talk you to death, you don't want to hear nagging, you don't think it's necessary to discuss every little thing, but yet you don't want us to tell anyone else either. I get that certain things should be sacred and should stay within the confines of your relationship, but at the same time it can be helpful for a girl to talk things out with her girls. That way they can be the ones to tell her she's irrational and you don't have to be the a$$hole who says it.

9. Manage your cash wisely. And you better have good credit.
I agree with this one if you have marriage on the mind. Otherwise, I don't see how my credit is your business. Is that wrong?

10. Don't get comfortable. Shave it up so I can get it up.
I'll give you this one too. I see way too many women who just seem to completely stop grooming themselves once they lock down their man. Not a good idea, ladies.

What do you guys think of this list?

Panty Meat Moves

A while back I laid into you ladies about the dumb things you do in relationships. I don’t have a similar list yet for men, but I have something better and that is the top 10 panty meat moves men make.
If you know me (or my bff) in real life, you should know by now what a panty meat is, but if not, in the immortal words of Naughty by Nature, “It's sorta like a, well, another way to call a cat a kitten”
Get it now? Good. Let’s get to it.

1. Hissing, whistling, blowing kisses, and other non-verbal ways of getting attention
Boys I don’t know why you do this, but this is not what’s hot in the streets.  As far as I can tell, there are only two reasons why a man would choose this method to meet a woman. Either he doesn’t have the confidence to just walk up and start talking to her – which would make him a panty meat – or he actually wants the kind of woman who would respond favourably to this approach. Which also makes him a panty meat.
Panty Meat Score: 4/5

2. The switcheroo
The switcheroo is the panty meat’s revenge on women and it goes something like this. Panty Meat sees a woman he wants to smash. Woman is either not studying him or is out of his league. Or both. Panty Meat starts pulling out his best moves in order to win her over.  If he’s smart and uses the time-honoured tradition of shameless and reckless pursuit + unceasing flattery, Woman will soon fall for the Panty Meat man. At which point the Panty Meat man will become distant and difficult, thus forcing Woman to shamelessly and recklessly pursue him. Panty Meat now feels like a big man.
Why is this a panty meat move? Because only a panty uses cheap mind games to get a woman to like him.
Panty Meat Score: 3/5

3. Drifting Off
Good lord, I hate a drift off! It goes a little something like this. You’re talking to your Panty Meat man – usually through some type of non-verbal communication like BBM or gchat. The conversation starts out nice and lighthearted and both parties are engaged and responding in a timely manner. Then – suddenly or gradually – the conversation turns to something serious and lo and behold panty meat has just…drifted off. He either stops answering altogether or becomes evasive and terse. Why? Because he doesn’t want to talk about whatever it is you’re now discussing and he doesn’t have the balls to tell you so. And what do we call a man who lacks balls? A Panty Meat.
Panty Meat Score: 6/5

4. Stupid lies
If Panty Meat is ever lucky enough to get a woman  – or even get within striking distance of a woman – he will invariably make this move. He will tell her some stupid, ridiculous, completely unnecessary lie, just because he is a MEAT and he doesn’t know any better. Now I’m not suggesting at all that lying has no place in a relationship…if you got head from a stripper at your boy’s stag last night, yes please do lie and tell your girl the party was boring. But if you went to the movies with your female bff last night, why do you lie and say you went with your brother? And why do you not brief your brother so he is ready with the cover story? You’re gonna get caught for lying about something completely harmless and expose yourself as the panty meat you truly are.
Panty Meat Score: 4/5

5. Making us do your dirty work
If a Panty Meat is lucky enough to get a girlfriend, and he gets tired of said girlfriend and wants to break up with her, you know what he does? He starts acting like an a$$hole. Why? So that she will break up with him. Why does he do that? Because he doesn’t have the balls to do it himself. And what do we call a man who lacks balls? Say it with me – a panty meat.
Panty Meat Score: 5/5

6. Bad massages and other laziness
Ah the bad massage. Consider this scenario: Panty Meat’s woman had a long hard day and her back is killing her.  She asks Panty Meat nicely to please rub it for her. Panty Meat looks to the future and sees a lifetime of massage-giving if he does it and she likes it. But an outright refusal will result in yelling and the game is coming on in 20 minutes. So what does Panty Meat do? He agrees to massage her but does such a terrible job of it that she begs him to stop and never asks him again. Why is this a panty meat move? Because if you refuse to pull your weight in a relationship, you’re a panty.
Panty Meat Score: 2/5

7. The flop
The flop is a panty meat’s signature move and it goes like this: Unsuspecting Woman and Panty Meat make plans (usually because Panty Meat suggested it). Unsuspecting Woman schedules it in and refuses all conflicting offers because she already has plans with the Panty Meat. Unsuspecting Woman starts getting ready or starts making her way to the spot when suddenly she gets a text message (it’s always a text message): “I can’t make it”.
Why is this a panty meat move? A couple of reasons:  first, it’s just bad manners.  Cancelling at the 11th hour should be reserved for emergencies only. Second – it’s a panty move because he used the chickensh*t method of texting rather than the grown-up method of picking up the phone. Third, because there’s no apology or explanation. Fourth, no notice.  Fifth – you’re a panty meat.
Panty Meat Score: 7/5

8. Brazening it out
After an offense such as the Drift Off or the Flop, Panty Meat knows he’s in a bit of a pickle. Somehow, some way he will encounter his victim again and how will he explain himself? (Panty Meats lack imagination). How will he return to her good graces? (Panty Meats don’t like to be hated). Rather than taking the normal, adult route of acknowledgement and apology, Panty Meat will try to pretend nothing has happened. So the next time he sees her , speaks to her, or texts her, he will open with “Hey Stranger, how’s it going? What? I get no love?” Or some such avoidance tactic. At which point the woman will either play along and act like nothing happened (women can be panty meats too) or she will call him on his panty meat behaviour – likely causing the Panty Meat to drift off.
Panty Meat Score: 6/5

9. Watching
I think the watcher may be the biggest Panty Meat of all, because he doesn’t even try to get in the game. What the watcher does is lurk in the background, taking in the scene, and filing information away for future reference. Ever been out at a party and had the feeling that someone’s eyes were burning into the back of your head? It was the watcher. If you’re lucky enough to befriend a watcher, you’ll catch jokes for days because he has the goods on everyone and he loves to chat so he’ll tell all. You’ll walk away thinking that the watcher is a pretty cool guy and the rest of your friends kinda suck. Which is all part of the watcher’s plan.
Panty Meat Score:  3/5

10. Cock-blocking
The cock-blocker is the Watcher with half a testicle, and he is a true Panty Meat. He doesn’t want to get with anyone until someone else steps to her first. Then he swoops in to mess things up. He’ll tell a story he’s supposed to take to his grave and if he doesn’t have one of those he’ll just make up a lie to kill whatever spark of interest there may have been. A true Panty Meat probably isn’t even feeling the girl, he just can’t stand to see anyone else get her. 
Men, if you’re a cock-blocker you’re a panty meat and you will die alone. I’m just saying.
Panty Meat Score: 5/5

I'm a backpack, he's an upscale

*this is a repost from my new urban singles column on examiner.com. please go over there and subscribe. and yes, you do have to subscribe to both*

If you’re urban and single in Toronto and you like to hit the clubs, the parties you frequent probably fall into one of five categories:

There’s the “hardcore” parties which are largely dominated by the under-30 set. They usually happen in clubs like KoolHaus or the Docks, there’s no dress code, and the music is of the Gucci Mane/Rick Ross variety.
Next we have the “backpack” parties. These parties are almost never downtown and while there’s no dress code, if you’re not wearing a plaid shirt, horn rims, or Converse you’re gonna stick out like a sore thumb. The bill usually features a DJ or artist you won’t have heard of if you’re not a backpacker and the music is more Wale than Lil Wayne.
“Music Lover” parties are for the music snobs. A staunchly 30-plus crowd and a style code so you can be comfortable but still look like you have some “broughtupsy”. These parties are downtown but in smaller clubs so you can rub shoulders more intimately with music aficionados such as yourself. The music runs the gamut from Otis Redding to Phil Collins to J. Holiday and almost every song emits a wall bang from at least 50 people.
“Upscale” parties are for the fabulous, darling. There’s a strict dress code and they happen in clubs that aren’t clubs – they’re lounges, or theatres. The crowd is 30 and up with a few celebrities thrown in for good measure. The music doesn’t matter much but expect to hear at least 5 Drake songs per night.
Lastly we have the “bashie” parties. These parties are usually in Scarborough. They happen in restaurants or social clubs and the dress code goes like this: dress to sweat. If you’re not wearing sneakers and you didn’t walk with your rag you’re gonna be sorry. The music is either all soca or all reggae. All night.

Now if you’re hitting the party circuit on at least a semi-regular basis, pretty soon you’re gonna start recognizing people. You’ll catch someone’s eye as the DJ wheels back a dope song and next thing you know your two circles have merged and you’re in one big happy dancing family. You hit Wah Too’s after the club for Chinese breakfast and quicker than you can say $15 cover charge you’ve got a new crop of prospective mates. Sounds great right? But do that four or five times and you’ve come to the point where you’ve met and dated everyone that may possibly be a contender and have nothing more to show for it than a guaranteed awkward moment (or two) next time you’re out.

So the obvious solution is to expand your horizons. Get out of your social circle and stop looking for love in the clubs - everyone knows that doesn’t work anyway right? So say you do that – you hit the bookstore, go to a poetry reading or a sports bar and come across a man or woman who has potential. “Where has s/he been all my life?” you wonder to yourself. Thing is, while you were over at your Music Lover party, she was on College street dancing it up with her Backpack crew. Or while you were jumping and wining in Scarborough, she was at Lobby popping Moet.

But that’s not a big deal, right? It’s just a matter of taste in parties – it has no impact on your relationship. Or does it? On some level, isn’t our taste in parties a metaphor for our attitude toward life? Think about it – if you love dressing up for parties and hobnobbing with celebrities or if you refuse to go to a club that makes you remove your cap at the door; if you’ll pay $300 for bottle service so that you don’t have to mingle with the crowd or you refuse to pay more than $5 cover, doesn’t that on some level relate to the way you approach life? And if you are dating someone who taste in parties is diametrically opposed to yours, aren’t you – at least in some small way – dating someone whose values are diametrically opposed to yours?

Maybe you are. But it’s not an insurmountable thing. The beautiful thing about human beings is that we are flexible. And that we can make compromises. I can hit a Music Lovers party in my jeans and wife-beater while he goes to his Upscale party in his three-piece suit. We’ll just meet up at Wah Too’s afterward. That’s our middle ground.

the boy has to ask the girl to dance

If I kept a tally of all the advice I get from my girls, the #1 most-advised thing to do would have to be this: “Just ask him ____”.  As in, just ask him out. Or just ask him for his number. Or just ask him how he feels.  To which my reply is invariably a big hysterical “I can’t do THAT!”

See for all my big talk, I’m really a just chickensh*t at heart. Especially when it comes to men. Although I’m not at all afraid to speak my mind and be who I am, there is one version of myself that I’m not really comfortable being and that is the move-maker. The one who asks for a number, makes the first call, asks out on a date, or initiates sex. The thought of doing those things makes me nervous as hell and, truth be told, I don’t really think I should have to.

Now I should interject here to point out that what I’m referring to in this post is the first move, not every move. Yes I will pick up the phone and call a man with whom I am in a relationship; and please believe I will jump on him the minute he walks through the door if I’m so inclined. But when things are new, I don’t make moves, I receive them.

Why, you ask? Well two reasons. One is that I think making moves is for homely girls. And I don’t mean that to be as ignorant as it sounds; all I really mean is, s/he who is on the lower rung of the ladder has to do more work.  The other reason is simply that I truly believe, with all my heart, that making moves is the man’s job.

Now I know that that’s supposedly unfair. And that it’s not any easier for men to make moves than it is for women.  And believe me I’m well aware that women can be harsh in their rejections…especially here in the dot. But still, it’s just such a manly thing to do, isn’t it?  Isn’t it just the sexiest thing in the world when a man confidently steps to you and unabashedly expresses his interest? Why on earth would I want to deprive myself of the singular joy of that experience?

I just can’t get over the idea that making moves is kind of a thirsty thing for a woman to do. And in my experience, when a woman does it, the delicate balance of power between man and woman is instantly (and sometimes irrevocably) altered. Just as some stupid men make the argument that a woman who is too independent robs him of his manhood, I think that a woman who does the majority of the initiating robs the man of the chase. And we all know how important the chase is for the man. For a woman, making the first move establishes the precedent that you will do the majority of the work to keep the relationship progressing, and who the hell wants to be saddled with that responsibility?

Somewhere someone is reading this and saying “But what if he’s shy? What if he’s intimidated by you? What if he’s not sure you’re interested?”. Yeah, that doesn’t move me at all. Shyness is a huge turnoff for me. I think it’s very un-manly. And any experience I’ve ever had with a man who was shy ultimately ended up being very unpleasant. So I think of shyness as nature’s weeding-out process. If I refuse to make a move on a man who is interested in me but is too shy to say so, he’s probably not the one for me anyway and I’ve saved both of us a lot of time by just allowing him to keep it moving.

Textual Relations

So I have my eye on someone. I’m not gonna get into a tonne of detail on here in case he reads it because my entire life need not be fodder for this blog, but this dude's entire existence has raised an interesting question that I must explore with you all.

Here’s how this has gone down: met the dude and chatted ever so briefly with him. He gave me his number and I texted him a few days later. Since then we have had a few highly entertaining text conversations but haven't spoken yet.

This is cool with me, but at Thanksgiving dinner with my girls the other night, quite a few of them were up in arms about it all. "Why don't you just CALL him??", "You guys need to TALK on the phone!", "You're gonna get to a place where all you do is text!!".

My response to all this earnestness was a big ole blank stare. Because I really didn't get what all the fuss was about and I didn't really see any necessity at this point for us to actually speak.

See the thing is, I hate the phone. I really do. Long telephone conversations are like jail to me. And while I make occasional exceptions for my mum, sister, and a few close friends, in general I don't answer the phone because I hate it. 99% of all max-initiated communication are via text or bbm. That’s my happy place. So for me to break down and actually speak to someone on the phone means something. At this point, a semi-random dude I’ve had a couple of text conversations with just doesn’t rank.

I know what you’re going to say now – how are we gonna get to know each other if we don’t actually talk? And you’re right. A friend of mine asked me how old dude is and what he does for a living (that’s a girl’s favourite question isn’t it? I don’t get that either but that’s another post for another day) and I didn’t know the answers because the conversations haven’t gone that way. So yeah, I think it’s probably true that I would know more about this dude at this point if we had actually spoken, but this way is fun for now. What’s the big rush?

I’m a sucker for the written word, in all its forms. A mildly steamy text can get me revved up the way a wallet full of $50 bills turns other women on. In the past, I’ve spoken to men and been ambivalent until they started texting me. Words win me over every time. And of course, for a commitment-phobe such as myself, it’s a nice low-investment way to have someone in my life without actually having him in my life.

But for normal people who don’t shun phone conversations, it’s an interesting question. A few months back I was asking a friend of mine if she had yet had a phone conversation with a man she’d been “talking to” for a couple of weeks and she said no. I asked her if that was normal and she had no idea. So I ask you, dear readers, what role does the telephone play in modern courtship?

For me it goes like this: first you text, then you go on a date (you may have a phone conversation or two to plan said date but texting is still the primary mode of conversation). Then you talk on the phone and date for a while, then he graduates to BBM. Or gets kicked off the island for not having a Blackberry. But as we all know, max-logic is not actual logic so you guys tell me how it should go.

I Just Wanna Get to Know You

I'm a curious person. The kinda person who knows a little bit about a lot of things and wants to know something about everything. The kind of person who can easily spend two hours on wikipedia clicking on link after link learning about everything from Basquiat to escovitch. So it stands to reason that, as I'm going along living my fabulous life, I encounter someone about whom I'd like to know a lot more. Now when this person is a woman it's easy - all I really have to do is talk to her about shoes find a common ground and we're fast friends. But when the person is a man it can be a little...problematic.


See the only way to get to know someone is to stalk get close to them...pay attention to them, ask questions, suggest outings, stuff like that. And through the shared interests and experiences you will, if you're lucky, forge a friendship. Or get bored - if the person doesn't live up to your expecations. But when you're a single woman trying to get to know a single man, nine times of our ten he's gonna think you're trying fuck date him; and your assurances that you're interest is purely platonic will likely be met with a big old side-eye.


So what's a curious gal to do? My fab friend Jem says I need to stop lying to myself and that my so-called desire to get to know a dude is nothing more than a hard-on wrapped up in lofty talk. But I don't accept that.


To me, wanting to get to know someone I'm attracted to is a crush. Wanting to get to know someone who doesn't give me that 'funny feeling' is just...wanting to get to know him.


So what's the right way to do that? Educate me people.

max about town: sex, relationships, and sometimes love

Last week my girl Jem and I attended the media launch of Sex, Relationships, and Sometimes Love, a GLAAD- nominated Off-Broadway hit running in Toronto until November 9.  It's not a play so much as a series of monologues about love, relationships, and sex. Some of them are funny, some of them are sad and everyone will probably find at least one or two they can relate to.  


If you're looking for something different to do in the city you might want to check it out. Check out their website for showtimes and ticket information.


If you see it, let me know what you think.

I am that Angry Black Woman

So if you listened to me and saw Secrets of a Black Boy you probably remember Sean's monologue 'White Girls are my Kryptonite'. In it he talks about why he's given up on dating Black women. His reasons wre a load of bullsh*t basically amounted to the fact that Black women are too independent and don't make him feel needed or appreciated. The first time I saw the play I almost lost an eyeball due to excessive rolling but the second time (yes, I saw it twice - how many times did you see it??) I really tried to listen objectively to see if his reasoning made sense. It didn't. But we'll get to that in a minute.


Then on the weekend I was re-reading this. It's a list of the top 10 reasons the author finds it difficult to date Black women. His reasons were things like Black women are too independent and expect too much. Then I was over here reading this guy's reasons and he said that Black women have a sense of entitlement. Then I jumped over here and found a remixed version of the first list that also included that Black women are abrasive and their tolerance is far too low.


The thing about this kind of propaganda talk is that I think it's a gross over-simplification of an extremely complex issue and I really wish people would not throw this kind of stuff out in the universe so cavalierly; not that I don't respect their right to do so. But all this reading did get me thinking about something...


Last night I was over at my girl Rachael-Lea's house filming some promo videos for Inside Our Heads. When Rach asked me to be on the panel, she said she wanted me there as the 'bitter bitch'. So of course when we were filming she asked me how I became that girl...


Now notwithstanding the fact that I hate the term bitter and am loathe to use it to describe myself, as I started to explore the ways in which my alleged bitterness manifests in my dating life, I discovered some interesting things...


I am extremely independent and don't really want a man to do anything for me
I expect a lot of men and don't really tolerate a lot of bullsh*t
I get annoyed easily and can be abrasive


See where I'm going here?


Am I that Angry Black Woman that is driving my beloved Black men away? I think that most of the people who know me would say no. I actually think that most of my readers would say no too. But yet you can't deny that I kinda fit the bill - at least as it's been articulated from stage to screen.


So back to over-simplification. Yes I am that woman who doesn't need (or really want) a man to do sh*t for me. I can take care of myself and pride myself on it. Do I know how to make a man feel like a man and show appreciation for the things he does? Of course. But I also want my man to know that he's around because I want him there - not because I need him to survive.


And do I sometimes get abrasive when I'm mistreated or approached in a way I don't appreciate? Effing right I do! I value manners over almost any other character trait, feel that I'm entitled to be treated with respect, and will not stand there and act appreciative when a man I don't know comes up to me at Tim Horton's and asks me if I'm hungry for some C-O-C-K (true story). And you bet your a$$ I expect a lot from men...I don't half-step in my relationships and I'm not gonna tolerate him doing it either.


So am I an Angry Black Woman? Yeah, I guess I am. But I'm also a generous Black woman. A loyal Black woman. A smart and wickedly funny Black woman. But you wouldn't know that, would you? Because you only date white girls.

where's your window-shade? (part I)

After a very interesting night on Friday, I had a very interesting conversation with a very interesting man. After discussing life, art, sex, and money, we got to talking about the merits of being an open person versus being a private person. 

As I'm sure you are all aware, I'm a very open person. Since I make a concerted effort not to do things that I am ashamed of,  I'm comfortable discussing virtually everything about myself and will do so with just about anyone. Mr. Interesting is the exact opposite of this. He plays things very close to the vest and spends a lot of time getting to know someone before he decides whether he wants to open up and allow them to get to know things about him. I thought that was a very interesting way to be, and I told him so. He thought my approach was very risky. Which I guess is somewhat true. 

My theory in everything is that I don't give people rules, I don't keep score, and I don't try to stop myself from being who I am. I don't release the rope in stages; I give you the whole thing and see what you do. And if you try to hang me with it, that's on you. All of which is a very cryptic way of saying that I feel that I can afford to be open with my life experiences because there's not a lot of harm that can come to me for it. 

Think about it - we are careful about what we tell people usually because we're afraid of three things. 1. They'll tell someone else. 2. They'll judge us. 3. They'll use the information against us in some way. 

As an open person, I'm obviously not worried about the information that I give so freely being disseminated. And if someone wants to judge me because they think that knowing a fact about me means they know me, I don't give a f*ck. Whether they'll use the information against me is a real concern, and it has happened in the past.

I guess the thing that I don't understand is this - how do you ever really get to know someone if you're so busy keeping your sh*t to yourself? I truly don't understand how this concept even works...if someone tells you about something that you can relate to because you've experienced something similar; do you refrain from telling them so because you don't know them well enough or long enough? Do you withhold the insight and understanding you've gained from that experience in the interest of saving face? To me, that is the worst kind of mean-spiritedness, but I think that may just be another brand of maxlogic.

I recently had the experience of a close friend of mine revealing a huge secret they've been hiding from me for a while. The information that they shared with me gave me greater insight into their point of view on the various issues we'd discussed through the course of our friendship; but also rendered a lot of the advice I had given them pretty much useless. And while I can fully understand that person's reasons for keeping the secret (it's a huge secret), I couldn't help feeling a little...used. Well, maybe used is too strong a word, but I definitely felt that this person had deceived me by accepting and applauding my openness and purporting themselves to be an open person as well, while meanwhile keeping a vital part of their life from me. 

I guess at the end of the day, we all need different amounts of light in our lives and it's up to us to decide where we're gonna keep our window-shades.  Mine is and always will be pulled open almost all the way. How that affects me in my dating life is part II of this topic. Stay tuned.

good hair

this is a topic that's been rattling around in my brain for a minute so i thought i'd throw it up here and let you guys weigh in.

anyone who knows me personally knows about my lifelong struggle with my hair. (and my lifelong struggle with men, come to think of it). i often attempt to beat my hair into submission but the reality is that i have big, wild, curly hair that is happiest when it's free to do its own thing. the older i get, the more i don't mind letting it, but the reality is that hair like mine comes with a lot of stuff.

there's a lot of talk around the internets about society's perceptions of black women with natural hair and if you're interested you can google it til your head explodes to your heart's content. one interesting thing i've been reading about lately is how men supposedly perceive a black woman with natural hair. i read this article the other day that mentioned a woman who chemically treated her long natural hair because she's an idiot wasn't getting attention from men. there are also assloads of videos on youtube talking about the fact that women with 'highly textured' hair either do not get approached by men, or are only approached by two types of men - the 'dwele' and the non-black man.

for once in my life, i actually don't have a tonne to say on the topic. i can only recall one man approaching me with my big curly mop and he wasn't black; but i also don't get approached very often no matter what my hair looks like. my male friends and acquaintances will often compliment me when my hair is straight but rarely have anything to say when it's curly; but that could be the novelty factor more than anything else.

so tell me what you think men, which of these looks do you prefer?

 

or these?

 

 source

the one that got away

My twitterbuddy Darling Nicky asked this question in her ladies quiz a couple of weeks ago:

Do you feel at this stage in your life, that you've already met the love of your life (even if not together)?

This was a no-brainer for me (if you've been paying attention, you should know the answer) but it did get my wheels turning...which led me to the notion of 'the one that got away'. Not in the traditional sense of the person that you met, fell for, and planned to have a future with until some bullshit went down for whatever reason you didn't end up together. No, today I'm thinking of the one that got away 2.0 - aka the man that got the better of me.

Let me just stop to fill you in on a fundamental fact of my life - I am slick. I am sooooo slick. I actually scare myself sometimes when I think about what an effing evil genius Ii am. When I turn my evil powers on, I have an uncanny ability to bend people to my will while they're walking around believing that what they do is their own idea. This is a great skill to have, but it does mean that I can get bored really quickly if I can work a man too easily. Which I almost always can.

Back to the one that got away. I was chatting with a friend a while back about a pebble I recently dropped (that's code for a crush i gave up on). This dude was the best thing I've come across in a while, smart and literate, masculine and well-dressed, funny and charming. And he had the nerve to be dark-skinned on top of everything else, the bastard. But after over a year of not-so-subtly sweating his ass, I had to let the crush go because it just wasn't fun anymore. Or at least that's what I thought the reason was; until my girl pissed on my parade englightened me by pointing out that this dude had out-played me.

Ii felt like Marcus Graham in when Jacqueline tells him he's getting too caught up. Just - destroyed. How can anyone beat me?

But looking back over that saga, I realized that there has never been a single moment in which I had the upper hand over this dude. No matter what slick move I made, he anticipated and countered it with a level of slickness I can't even comprehend. His game was so good that I didn't even know he was playing - and please believe me I'm a veteran (hi steve!) game-spotter.

Now the old stupid max would be so turned on by the realization of how slick this dude really is that she would immediately resurrect her crush. Max 2.0 knows the definition of insanity and is not gonna waste any more of her time. So i'll remain over my crush but this man will always hold a piece of my heart as the first - and hopefully only - man ever to out-slick me.

Do you have to be bad to be good?

So I was chatting with a couple of ladies last night when someone asked me 'why is the best d@ck attached to assholes?
This got me thinking about my own experiences with good sex and assholes and I realized that my best experiences have been with the worst dudes.
But why is that? On the way home I thought about it and talked about it with the bestie but I can't seem to find a concrete tie...I'm thinking it has something to do with confidence and swagger....a man needs that to be good in bed but that can also be a recipe for asshole. And can a dude have confidence, be a sex god, but still be nice?
It's a puzzle. Help me piece it together in the comments.

sent while running the streets

honesty is the best policy

i call bullshit!
'honesty is the best policy' is one of those things that people say to make themselves feel good, but in reality it's just a license for rude behaviour. yes, i do believe that life would go a lot more smoothly if people were like me just told the truth to and about themselves, but there are some times in life that it's just not necessary to be honest.

such as? let's consider an example:
once i went to a raptors game with my guy at the time. we're both die-hard fans, but he loves them just a tiny bit more than i do, so when he said he was hungry, i volunteered to go down to subway to get him something to eat. not being a consumer of subs myself, i was a little confused as to what toppings to put on so i guessed at it and brought it back up to him. he opened up the sub and started foaming at the mouth because i - gasp! - put hot peppers on my sub. 'why would you put hot peppers on it? who eats hot peppers on a chicken sub?!?'
admittedly that was an asshole move, regardless, but he was just being honest. and i did learn from then on that dude no likey hot peppers. but was it necessary to be honest in that situation? i think not. 9 times out of 10, showing appreciation trumps honesty.

still not convinced? how about another example:
my fellow fans of 'the game' will remember the period of time in which jason and kelly were going to marriage counseling. kelly and jason both confessed that they married for the wrong reasons (kelly - his money/jason - the tax write-off). they did come to truly love one another later but those confessions were so hurtful and damaging that their marriage never recovered.
once again, they were just being honest. but was that the right move?

i'm getting the feeling you're still not on board with my logic, but trust me when i tell you that i'm not the only one who thinks honesty is over-rated in relationships. mademan.com gives men a list of things to never, ever say to your girl. even if they're true. read the list and then come back and tell me that he's wrong.

there is no greater time to question the validity of honest than when we're talking about cheating. anyone who has ever cheated knows that the guilt you carry is a motherfucker. sometimes you feel like you're going to explode if you don't say something. so in the spirit of 'just being honest', most people confess sooner or later. then their partner is devastated, they're in the doghouse, trust is destroyed, and most times the relationship is damaged forever.(sidebar: we're not talking about 'stupid cheating' here where you have to confess before someone else exposes you. we're talking about smart cheating where your partner will never, ever find out. if you don't now the difference between stupid and smart cheating, let me know and i'll school you later.) if you slip up and cheat in a moment of weakness and you want to stay with your partner, isn't it better to just keep your mouth shut and regard the weight of the guilt as your punishment? how is honesty the best policy in this situation?


i don't know. maybe it's because i'm a pathological liar wired differently than most people but i think honesty is way over-rated. what do you guys think? drop me a dishonest comment and let me know.

would you date a blogger?

here's a random question for you: say you're a dude and you meet me and of course are instantly smitten. what's not to love, really? we get to talking, have a couple of dates, you're starting to see me as potential wifey material. but then you read my blog. and see that i regularly talk about my friends and acquaintances, sometimes even mentioning them by name. you begin to worry that one day your name will be up here for thousands (LOL) to read about. what do you do?

as previously mentioned, almost all of the men that i've been involved with have asked me not to blog about them. and if they're behaving, i usually don't. but if they f*ck around, all bets are off and if i can make a funny story out of it, I will. so in my mind, a man i date has nothing to worry about - as long as he's nice to me he'll be kept out of the blog so it's all in his control. but somehow i have a feeling that no man wants to date a girl with a relationship blog.

so men, illuminate me: would you date a blogger?

can a bad girl turn good?

i came across this post in my google reader the other day. and while the actual content of the post was bullshit had little to do with the title, it still got me thinking.... can a bad girl go good?

a wise man once said

They say you can't turn a bad girl good
But once a good girl's gone bad, she's gone forever..

and while i make it a policy to never, ever disagree with Hov, this time I wonder how right he really is.

Consider this scenario:
A good girl grows up. She dates, she has relationships. She may have one or two one-night-stands here and there but for the most part she keeps sex confined to the realm of exclusive relationships. Then she gets her heart broken. She dusts herself off and tries again, only to get it broken again. And again. At which point she decides, no more relationships because he can't take the risk of getting her feelings hurt anymore. After a while, though, she begins to miss sex. But she still doesn't want to put her feelings out there. So she decides that she's just gonna have some fun, no strings, no attachments, no breakups.

She has now entered the realm of the bad girl.

Women's lib notwithstanding, a woman who routinely has sex without commitment is bad. No reason, no bad experience, no matter her comfort level with her choices, it's not a good look for a woman to just have random sex. So once a woman decides to head down that path is she lost forever?

Consider the above scenario but add a different ending: She decides to just have some fun, no strings, no attachments, no breakups, but after a year of that she decides that she wants to risk it all again and find true love. So she reverts to her good girl ways; dating, relationships, sex only in an exclusive relationship.
Is she now a good girl who took a vacation to badland? Or is she forever a bad girl?

I think that for most men, Jay-Z's quote holds true. Once you go bad, you can't come back. And I think it's about their egos more than anything else; I don't know a lot of men who would stand up with pride and say 'yes my girl has had a lot of bone in her, but she's all mine now'.

On the other hand though, doesn't that girl's experience in badland give her a greater perspective that might help her in her future relationships? I think so, but then again what I think is almost always the opposite of popular opinon.

So what's a bad girl to do? Move away? Deny her past? Languish forever in badland, her dreams of finding her one true love never to come true? Can a baddie get some love?

The Allure of the Younger Man

Demi did it. Samantha Jones did it. Apparently Courteney Cox has a show coming out about it. It seems a younger man is the new accessory of choice for the thirty-plus woman...so should you do it?

A quick survey of my girlfriends suggests yes. Nearly all of them have a young one on standby and the ones who haven't have thought about it. Hard. But what is it about the younger man that has become so appealing to us?

Ii think it comes down to two things; accessibility and adoration. Find a younger man before his first heartbreak and you'll get both in spades. Not having experienced the kick-in-your-face pain that comes with your first real breakup, young dude has no problem putting himself out there. He has no arbitrary rules, no 50-ft thick walls, no axe to grind with wicked and evil women. If he's feeling you he steps to you. He'll call you without worrying about looking like a punk. And his innate eagerness will have him hot and sweaty to see you whenever you're free, unlike men in our thirties that pencil you in between work, house basketball leagues, drinking with his boys, his 10 other girls, and marathon sessions of Madden 10.

Which leads us to the real appeal: adoration. No reason to deal with a younger man without it. Everything you say is 'so dope'. Your body looks amazing for an older woman. He's in awe of you because you're more experienced, more accomplished, and more knowledgeable than he is with a better car, a nicer watch, and a bigger apartment. How can women, with our insatiable need for ego-boosting, possibly resist?

So is there a downside to a younger man? I guess it depends what you want from him. If you're just looking to get your parts oiled for fun, I can't see what the problem is. But if you're looking to settle down, is a younger man a viable choice?

I've been intrigued by the older woman-younger man phenomenon since I first saw Juice. And because I'm already put waaaay too much of my business in this blog I'm not gonna tell you whether I've gone there or not. I haven't. But after getting my face kicked in by men my own age, I can definitely see the appeal. But I suspect that younger men come with just as much bullshit as older guys do.

Of course, that might just be because I'm bitter and jaded. 

what's your number?

Over at The Fly Guy Chronicles reading this post got me thinking about numbers...not telephone numbers (because realistically, who needs those anymore?) but the 'magic' number - how many sexual partners we've had. Probably one of the most influential pieces of information we share with a new love interest, the 'number' conveys a multitude of things about us....or does it?

I think this is one of the rare instances in which men are more arbitrary than women. Men seem to live and die by the number (or their perception of what the number is). Too high and she gets relegated to jump-off status, too low and...well, I'm not sure there is such a thing as too low in a man's book. Men seem to get off on the idea of being the conqueror and the trailblazer. Tell a man he's the first one to do ___ to you and watch his eyes light up like Christmas.  Women, on the other hand, seem to use the number as an indication of the man's trustworthiness - the more he's been around the more likely he is to run around.

Now although I know it's a bad sign, I don't remember tell my number. Nor do I ask or encourage a man to tell me his. It's not even a matter of principle for me, it's not something that i ever think of...to me it's completely irrelevant and none of my business. But i have a feeling that this is one of those issues on which my thinking completely differs from everyone else's...

So c'mon tell me, what do you think?

PSA's for men and women

at this point i'm not sure who i've roughed up more on this blog - the women or the men - but today's post is equal-opportunity education. because you both do things that irritate me.

isn't it a lucky thing that i have a blog where i can bash educate you?

so here we go - my psa's of the day - the male and female edition:

Male PSA of the Day - you don't need to solve our problems.

oh, men. i know that you are solution-oriented. i know that it's your genetic imperative to fix things. and that when you care about a woman you want to be her knight in shining armour. but sometimes, we need you to just listen. sometimes, all we want is a sympathetic ear that will make soothing noises and tell us we're completely right going to be okay. when one of our girls makes a catty remark that hurts our feelings, we don't tell you so that you'll give us a script to use to tell her about her parts; we tell you so that you will say, 'i'm sorry. that sucks.' just like said girlfriend would if she wasn't on our shit list at the moment. when you jump in with 'what you need to do is tell her to mind her fucking business...[or whatever else you think it is we need to do]' all you do is irritate us and make us defensive. and a defensive woman who had a bad day is not anyone's idea of a good time, is it?

Female PSA of the Day - men are not mind-readers

i read this over in darling nicky's world today: "In that moment, indulge my miser, and anticipate my every need. Don't wait 'till I say 'I need a drink'. Have one waiting for me when I get home. Don't wait 'till I ask to have my shoulders rubbed. Lay me down...and do your best to massage my troubles away". 

ladies, i get it. it's our dream to have a man who knows what we want - and gives it to us - without us having to ask for it. but if you have any sense at all you should know that men are wired differently than we are. what they want after a bad day is head different than what we want. they don't deal in the realms of soft lighting, glasses of wine, and gentle massages. so why the fuck we expect them to intuit that that's what we want - and get angry or disappointed when they don't spontaneously provide it - is beyond me. please just make everyone's life easier and ask for what you want. it seriously ups your chances of getting it. and if you ask him and he doesn't give it to you, then he's the asshole and you're the victim. and isn't that what we all want?