Remembering Jay

I'm taking a break today from my usual stuff to write about something a little more personal. Fret not, I'll be back to talking about the dirty stuff next week.

Ten years ago today childhood ended. A bit of a strange way to describe an event that happened in my mid-twenties, but true nonetheless. Ten years ago today my good friend Jay Edmonds, along with three other friends of mine, was killed in a car crash.

I've had a bit of a charmed life, so it's hard for me to imagine anything else that would knock me into the disillusionment of adulthood as abruptly as this. It was a big party weekend for us in London, and all our talk was about parties and bullshit, as it should be when you're 24 and looking forward to spending a weekend with friends. But an early-morning phone call turned our fun weekend into a week-long vigil as we gathered together not to drink and get high but to cry and console one another.

Jay's death set off a disturbing string of deaths of friends which culminated in the death of Snickers two years ago. Jay and Snickers were like brothers, and the two of them and me and my sister were a foursome; spending countless hours at their place or ours, talking shit and listening to Jeru and Gangstarr until all hours of the morning. That our foursome is now two is one of the saddest facts of my life.

Jay was an athlete and an actor. A brother, uncle, son, and boyfriend. He was a joker and a spaz. He was a superstar. And he is missed.

When Jay was alive I never told him I loved him or how amazing I thought he was. With all the arrogance of youth I assumed he just knew. But I learned from Jay's death is that assumptions can quickly turn into ass-kickers. And that if you love someone, you should tell them. So in honour of Jay, tell someone you love them today.

Is the grass ever greener?

The dearth of romance in relationships is something I touched on in yesterday's post; and judging from the feedback I got, it's a hot topic for a lot of people. A lot of women who read the post called me or emailed me to bemoan the fact that once a man gets comfortable in a relationship, he stops doing the romantic things he did in the beginning. Now I don't know if I necessarily subscribe to one commenter's theory that monogamy=monotony; but I have been around long enough to know that most people in relationships lead with the good foot, so to speak. When we meet someone new we're all about the wooing - whether it's buying flowers and gifts for your lady or feigning interest in your man's favourite sport. But as we become comfortable, going that extra mile seems to become too much effort.

But how we deal with the death of romance is an interesting thing. From my observations of men, it seems that the less appreciated they feel the less effort they put in. If a man tries to do something nice for his lady and he does it wrong she doesn't show adequate appreciation or criticizes his efforts, he's disinclined to try it again. What he will do instead is find another source of that manly feeling he was looking for. And nine times out of ten that source is another woman's pu$$y. He's not necessarily looking to end the relationship, he just taking a little boost from time to time.

But what does a woman do if she feels unappreciated by her man? Well they do a lot of things; cheating is one of them - as much as the ladies want to believe that men are solely responsible for the world's cheating, we do our dirt too. Some women take the "nag and bitch" approach. But far and away the most common reaction for women in this situation seems to be to become fixated on the fantasy that the next man will be better.

Consider this scenario:  a woman in a relationship with a man who doesn't romance her like he used to gets to talking with another man. This might be someone she just met, or an old standby; a friend who has always been there waiting to pounce for her. She confides in him that her man isn't doing what he used to. He starts to give her the talks; "Baby if I was your man I would _____", he betrays the man code by agreeing with her assessment of her man's behaviour. And he starts laying on the compliments. The woman starts thinking that maybe Mr. Next Man is a better match for her and grows even more disillusioned with the current man. Next thing you know, the current man is out and the next man is in. Fast forward three months - the flowers have dried up, the compliments have stopped, and Mr. Next Man spends just as much time playing NBA 2K10 as the last dude did. The woman looks around and asks herself, what happened?

What happened is this: she played herself. She forgot that men are hunters and they cannot resist ripe prey. Is there anything more appealing to a man than the opportunity to steal a next man's woman? Honestly I think they'd try it even if they weren't feeling the girl, just to say they did it.

What is it about us women that makes us forget that the grass is rarely greener? I have to admit that even I have fallen for this trick, and I still don't know why. I guess it's because being wooed is like kryptonite for women. Just as men are powerless to resist free pum pum, women lose their minds over compliments, empty though they may be.

Ladies have you ever fallen for this trick? Men have you ever stolen a woman just because you could? Enlighten me.

Things Women Shouldn’t Say to Men

I don’t usually write response posts, but Slim Jackson’s Things Men Shouldn’t Say to Women  had me howling…and got me thinking. Slim is right on the money with his list, but ladies we need this list even more than men do.

We need to talk

Maybe you do, but that opener is not working for anyone. It just fills a man with dread and makes him want to get away from you as quickly as possible.

How do I look? and Do I look fat in this?

In both cases, what you’re looking for here ladies is less a truthful answer and more something to gas up your heads. Unfortunately, if you’re lucky enough to have a man who will even glance up from the game to look at you before answering, what you’ll get is either a protracted once-over followed by a “Good” or a “No”. Or you’ll get the truth. And you probably won’t like it. So just skip it.

Which one of my friends would you eff?

Why oh why would you ask this? What could you possibly hope to gain from knowing which of your friends stars in your man’s masturbatory fantasies? Just leave it alone ladies. Trust me when I tell you you don’t want to know the answer to this.

My ex used to….

Insert good or bad behaviour here. Telling your man that your ex used to buy you flowers “just because” or saying that he used to have textual relations with other girls and that's why you can’t stop yourself from going through his phone is probably going to lead to an invitation that you go reunite with said ex, since you’re so fixated on him.

My girls say…

I think men have resigned themselves to the fact that women discuss the most minute details of their relationships with their girlfriends. They probably don’t get it or like it, but they accept it. But that doesn’t mean that they are interested in hearing your girlfriends’ co-sign on your latest grievance against your man. Besides which, if the only supporting argument you can come up with is “even my friends think you’re wrong”, your point is probably weak.

You don’t ____ like you used to

The blank can be filled in with things such as compliment me, kiss me hello/goodbye, go down on me, wanna hang out with me, and other such acts. And I’m not saying it isn’t a legitimate complaint. It’s a sad fact of life that the beginning of a relationship is packed with romance and ego-boosting compliments, which quickly fade once he hits it you become comfortable with each other, but I’ve yet to see this tactic achieve the desired results. You’re more likely to be accused of being insecure. Or a nag. Or both.

You love your friends more than you love me

Ladies, men need their men time. You need to get that. The relationship between your man and his boys is sacred and you need to stay outside of it. If you love your man, don’t ask to come along to boy’s night and please oh please don’t ask him to stay home and hold you when he’s supposed to go watch the fight with the fellas. This is a competition you cannot win. Or maybe you can, but it would probably mean your man’s a punk and you don’t want him anyway.
Also, using the phrase "your stupid-ass friends" in any capacity is probably not going to score you any points. They're non-negotiable so just grin and bear it.

Who’s that girl?

Who’s that girl that wrote on your wall on Facebook? That you just nodded to on the street? That you retweeted? That you spoke to at the club? A woman’s need to know the name, rank, and serial number of every female who crosses her man’s path just screams desperation. And psychosis. So please don’t.

Do you know how many other men want me?

We know men thrive on competition, but this is not the move. This is what a girl says when she’s not getting what she wants from a man, but I doubt it ever achieves the desired effect. Any man worth his stones can only respond to this by inviting her to, in the immortal words of Method Man “go find another sucker, yo”.

Did you eff her?

Just as Slim said, this question rarely yields a truthful answer. And if it does, you may not like it. So just leave it alone!

Ladies do you say these things? Think I’m wrong? Men did I miss anything? Drop your wisdom on me in the comments.

The Sex Match

I hate the beginnings of relationships, but I do like discovering people. Meeting someone who floats your boat and getting to know them can be exciting. The first few conversations - when you start to learn who they are, how they think, what they like - are a revelation. Or a disappointment.

I have a confession to make. I imagine people naked. Not just people whom I'm attracted to or want to sleep with, but all kinds of people. The teller at the bank when I make my deposit, the weird goth kid on the subway. It's like an exercise for my imagination to look at the way someone's body occupies their clothes and try to picture what that body looks like without the clothes. It's rarely an appealing mental picture.

But when I'm feeling someone, my imagination goes beyond what they look like naked to what they act like naked. When I'm getting to know a new man, I spend an inordinate amount of time speculating about what he's like in bed and using clues to try to paint his sexual portrait. Like - he listens to a lot of R&B so he's probably Mr. Foreplay. Or he watches a lot of porn so he's probably at least a little bit freaky. I spend hours trying to piece together an image of how this man behaves between the sheets.

Sidebar: you may be wondering why I don't just bring it up during one of these "getting to know you" conversations. Here's your answer - I think it's bad form to discuss sex in detail with someone before you do it. Call me crazy, but I think it sets a bad precedent; and you'd be hard-pressed to find a man who can listen to a woman frankly discuss her sexual preferences and not come to the conclusion that she's a whore-bag. But that's another post for another day.

Where was I? Oh - fantasizing. So as I get to know someone and get more interested in inviting him to my private area, a sense of reluctance sits in. No matter what conclusions I've come to in all my speculation about his bedroom style, I know that it's unlikely that I'm right. There's very little that can be deduced about one's sexual style in the course of regular getting-to-know-you conversation. And I don't want to be disappointed.

See the thing is, I have some pretty definite tastes when it comes to bedroom action. I'm not going to get into details here because you guys already know waaaay too much of my business, but I know exactly what I like. And although I'm a firm believer in the "sex is like pizza" school of thought, I still dream of finding the man that I can tolerate with his clothes on who is also my perfect match when the clothes come off. Unfortunately, the twain rarely meet. I can think of only one instance in my life where I slept with a man who intuitively knew what I wanted and gave it to me. Honestly I think he probably knew more about what I wanted than I did. Problem was he was, let's just say, not a match for me when the clothes were on. I've also been lucky enough to just totally click with someone mentally from the very beginning but between the sheets it was just...okay. Not that he was bad or small or anything like that. Just not the same style as me.

Now I know that someone out there is going to say that it takes time for people to get to know each other, and that with a little time and a little communication you can find some middle ground. And I get that. But I just can't help wanting to find that man who just gets it, right from the beginning.  If you read this blog enough you should know that I'm not big on giving a man direction, especially in the bedroom so it's no surprise that I want someone who just gets it.

But how important is the sexual match, really? Should I spending more time wondering if our philosophies about money, faith, race, and children match? How important is it too you guys out there? What if you love something sexually that your partner just flat out refuses to participate in? Or your dude is pushing you to do something that you think is "just nasty"? Are these dealbreakers, or surmountable obstacles?

Enlighten me in the comments.

The Other Woman

The other woman is a bad girl, isn’t she? This predatory b*tch is the target of many a scorned woman’s ire. She’s evil, she lacks self-esteem, she has no respect for marriage, she can’t find a man of her own. But in the immortal words of Jackie Collins, who’s she when she’s at home? Who is the woman who so brazenly pulls up her chair to a table for two?  And is she really such a bad thing?

I have a difficult time with the idea that every relationship is meant to fit the same pattern – monogamous and consisting of no more than two participants. I’m no Bill Henrickson, but I do believe it’s possible that relationships can take different forms and be successful. This might be a cultural thing – Lord knows Caribbean people take great liberties with the definition of monogamy – but I’ve seen long happy marriages that involved more than just two people. And no, it ain’t always the man with the side ting.

I’ve never really been the other woman, but I confess that the idea is not without appeal. There’s always been something alluring to me about it.  It’s not that I don’t respect marriage or relationships, but it might be because I don’t value monogamy the way most people do. And for someone like me, being involved with a man whom I can never get sick of because he can’t spend every moment with me, who will likely never spend the night, and who will probably never want to get married or have children with me is a perfect fit. I could have my freedom, always have the trump card to end every argument (You’re married!), and I’d be free to spend the holidays with my family.  Plus the relationship would always have the pull and the intensity of the forbidden. What’s not to want?

Let’s face it, no relationship is perfect. No one can be everything to their partner and all relationships have their voids. Some of us fill these voids with internet porn friends or children or hobbies. Is it really such a terrible thing to fill it with another person? Doesn’t anyone remember the episode of Friends where Joey made his father break up with his mistress and then his mother came back and explained to him the ways in which the mistress made the dad a much more bearable person? Is that just fiction or is it a level of honesty with ourselves we should all be striving for?

The problem is though, that the other woman almost never plays her position. I should be egalitarian here and say the other ‘person’ rather than the other woman, but I’m not.  She wants more time, more status. She hates the wife and resents the children. She doesn’t want to hide. She wants him around on her birthday, on Christmas. She wants him to spend the night. She wants marriage and babies. She – just wants more. And there’s nothing wrong with any of that. But seeking it from your married (or otherwise committed) man is where drama begins. But I guess men don’t choose their side pieces with the intention of preserving their main things, do they? They choose them for other reasons.

Okay people, lay it on me. What do you think? Can a healthy relationship exist with more than two people involved?