The Ideal Twist to Perfection

Introduction: I wrote this about two years ago. I just found it and I thought it deserved a rebirthing.

I was talking with some friends the other night and we began to talk about the opposite sex and relationships. One of the guys in the room, let's call him Mr. Intellect, decided to give us his spiel on the “confused” woman. The highlight of his erroneous statements were, “I don't think women know what they want...women want bad men. They all want men that don't need them.” It's safe to say that I highly disagreed with this notion. Never one to be the spokesperson for women, I felt like I had to stand up for every woman in America that night. What I had to do was explain to this man that women are complex creatures and it is that complexity that makes a good man so hard to find. Men are simple, they need sex, food, and entertainment, order may vary! Women on the other hand need much more.

Now I have never been one to make a list of the “Perfect Man” because I always felt that it was impossible, among other things. But then I realized that the reason why I was always so against this list was because most lists contain shallow characteristics that you can find in almost anyone that passes you by. For example, “I want someone who makes me laugh.” Well if a guy trips while walking down the street you'll laugh. So, does that mean he's your Knight in Shining Armor? No! Any list that doesn’t contain the emotions you want to embody as a direct result of him is incomplete.

So, in light of the debate, I decided to design the man for me. Despite Mr. Intellect’s views I do not want a bad man, I want a man's man. A man whose strength is denoted in his stance. It's not that I don't want a man who doesn't need me, but I'd rather a man who doesn't have to need me, but he does because he wants to. I want a man who can make me want to kiss him, because I don't like to do it that often. I don't have to him to see me everyday, but I want him to want to. Similar to how Jennifer Aniston only wanted Vince Vaughn to want to wash the dishes. She really didn't care if he rolled up his sleeves and actually did it, she only wished for that desire to help her out in a sense.

I want a man who dreams more than just about me, for I don't wish to take up his entire mind. He should push me and motivate me. I want a man who texts me just to get a response, even if it's a simple “K.” I don't need him nor do I want him to open every door because he knows that I can do it myself. I want him to look at me in such a way that I don't know what's on his mind; I just know that it's something good. He should smile at me even when I'm not looking at him. He should not be perfect. He should make mistakes and get on my nerves sometimes. There should be just enough disruption in our relationship to give it character, but not ruin us. This description may seem weird to some, but only because their mind is not creative enough to understand the method to my madness.

The key behind my not so perfect, yet ideal man is that flaw is key. As uncanny as it may sound I don't deserve a “perfect” man, if such a being ever existed, I would probably irreversibly taint him with my own imperfections. So, I told Mr. Intellect what I wanted and he was completely dumb struck. At this point there was nothing more that he could say except, “So, you're the exception.” I took that as his apology to women everywhere. Now to be fair I will say that there are women whose choice in men are not great choices to say the least. But I do not believe it is due to them not knowing what they want from a man. Instead, it is due to their inability to vocalize and seek out these wants. But, on the other hand you have those women who just flat out don't know what they want at all, that I can admit. But understand, Mr. Intellect they only make up a small percentage of women. I’d say about .09%

dogs

A friend texted me last night, long story short, she said she was thru wit niggas and she was never getting married. Me being the caring person that I am told her, "to forget about his weak ass cause he aint shit." First and foremost it is 2009, and women (I.e. You weak bitches that keep fallin for these niggas) have known that men (these men that aint shit, yet somehow keep pulling our dumb asses back) haven't been shit for a long long time now. They have written books, songs, movies, all to let us know that they aint shit! There are no more excuses. The problem is that we keep telling ourselves these lies about the men we deal with. My favorite, (trust, I've def used it before) "I just keep attracting these _________ niggas" (fill in the blank as needed) Well, maybe there is something in that beautiful scent that you give off that just makes these dogs come your way. Dogs hunt for prey, they find it and attack. But they don't strong arm every furry freak they see. Some they sneak up on and indulge, some they stay away from, and some they just jump on the back of and howl.

The point I am making is that we continuously scream to the top of our lungs that men aint shit!How did we come up with this theory? Because we have experienced a man/men that has "proven" this to us. As we have alleviated ourselves from their ways (hopefully) we still continue to carry around this "motto." We carry it to every relationship expecting him to live up to these low expectations we have set for them. We, are essentially setting ourselves up for failure. Internally we believe that when he texts some girl, he's banging her. When he doesn't call back, it's cause he's talking to her. And when he says, "that's just my homegirl" that he's a damn lie! I'm not saying to put all of your trust in a man, but damn we can't keep putting all of our past burdens onto new relationships.

So, the verdict. If you find yourself with men that continue to make you say, "niggas ain't shit." It means that you just may not be shit yourself. This may rub some people the wrong way, they may even say "You are a f*cking Hypocrite" and I say...Um no im not!!!! I believe niggas aint shit to the fullest. But I trust and believe that men are something different. Men can be niggas, but niggas CAN NOT be men. Understand it, live it, and love it. And again all I'm saying is dont let the reason he aint shit be because you aren't shit yourself. Because if we allow them to get away with things...what does that say about us?? THAT WE AINT SHIT!!! UGH

Behind the Curtain

Sometimes when the curtain closes smiles erase. They vanish with the last piece of fabric touching the end of the stage. It is at that moment the every truth of every emotion shows itself. Truth doesn't need light, only the right moment. Today, my curtain has finally closed. I can finally allow my true emotions to reveal themselves. And it hurts. It hurts to internally be so sad all of the time. I feel like my happiness is just a moment when the tears are too afraid to come out. I cannot even explain why I feel this way. I can only describe remnant's of the reasoning behind them.

You ever hear a song, or see something on tv that puts you back into a place that you never want to visit again? A place where you heart dwells on the past? A place where tears are welcomed by warm cheeks and dirty palms? A place where minds dance in the pits of "shoulda-coulda-wouldas?" It is these triggering events that creep on you without warning. At that moment all you need is a moment. Until that moment is over and you can embrace a happy moment....at least until the curtain closes again...

Drenched with Curiousity

Written 12-18-2009

Ok so for some strange, odd, retarded reason this evil world of LOVE has been circling around my brain! I don't get it. I am not in love nor do I desire to be. But there is something. There is this little piece of me inside that wants to travel back to a time when **** was all there was. When it was all that mattered. When it was the reasoning behind every dumb, inexcusable, stupid act. It kept me hanging on and it kept me connected. Love? Nope I refuse to believe that I could ever be cursed like that. **** on the other hand was definetely there.

But do I really want **** again?! It hurt like hell the first few times. Maybe now I'm immune to the B.S. The BullShit, the BitterSweet element that surrounds this dented heart of mine! Ha! Can't be sucked out so no need in trying. My heart is like a foreign car that I can't afford to get fixed right now. I would shop around for prices but why? I know they're all gonna try and get over on me, and hell whatever they're selling I'm just not in the market to buy!

Ugh now I will be known as the BITTER BLOGGER! But I'm really not. This isn't a blog about HIM or THAT MAN or even THIS ONE. It's just a blog that I felt I had to get out. What is ****??? Oh my bad that's L-O-V-E backwards, E-V-O-L pronounced EVIL!

Etta Mae Done Walked Thru the Front Do'!

So today as my sister and I were on the Plaza shopping we went into Express. Ya know it was just a regular day on the town for me and my sister. But quickly it turned into the sequel to Rosewood! As I was shopping, I looked and saw two security guards. Ok, that's not strange. Then there were three, then four, then five! Excuse me! As we left we began to discuss the events. Coincidence? So as we left the store to go to Urban Outfitters we looked back and saw one of the officers behind us. Oh no, he can't be following us. Hit a corner, cross the street, OMG he is following us. Not only did he follow us to Urban Outfitters but he followed us inside and downstairs. When I walked out of the dressing room he was accompanied by another officer. WOW! At this point I was completely and utterly enraged. That's when we began to let them know that we knew what was going on. We got on the phone to express the disgust that we tasted from this experience that was not yet over. I made sure to make much eye contact with them to let them know that we were definitely aware of them following us. As we went to the register to PAY for our things there were three officers! Outside one awaited. As we left I told them to, "Have a great day officers! Would you all like to help us carry our bags out?!" To keep this story short, we were followed to the GAP, customer service, and all the way to the Security Office to file a complaint.

Needless to say we were both upset. I don't even know if upset contains all the emotions we felt. This was clearly race motivated. We didn't have big shopping bags or big coats or anything suspicious. Just two females shopping. I guess we stood out because our skin had a little bit of tint to it! I mean how far have we come? Up until this point I had never been racially profiled before, at least not to this extent. This was beyond necessary and was definitely unwarranted. I will not let this rest! How can I? It would be a disservice to the entire Black community if I lay down and let people think that this is the 1940's and "Etta Mae don' came thru the front do' of Mr. Wilcox store, knowin' that gal gotsa go thru the back entrance!"

L.I.F.E.- No acronym

Life is a bitch! No seriously it really is. I mean it has to be. Nobody understands her, she's difficult, hard to please, and sometimes down right cold. Bitch. Ha, this thing we call life! She is a creature of pure ambiguity. She doesn't say what she means, she simply hints and expects you to figure it out. We are supposed to guess what she wants, and dammit we better not be wrong, because if we are we pay. And she can be a mean and spiteful "unstable creature" who can hold a mean grudge!

But if this thing we call life is a bitch, then what are days. My theory is that the days are niggas. Yup, I said it. I know the NAACP buried the word, but hell this blog didn't. Think about it though, it makes sense. Days are short, they can't listen, and a lot of the times you regret all the things you do with it. Just like niggas. Ha! I think I'm on to something...

DISCLAIMER: This blog does not wish to insult men in any way shape or form. Men are some of the greatest creatures to walk the earth. Also..... the NAACP does NOT approve of this message ;)

Metro Madness!!

Sitting on this train, on the red line, headed towards somewhere irrelevant, it hit me! It finally hit me!. "It." That "it" that reminded me that every "relationship" I had ever pretended to be in was worthless, meaningless, and let's be honest nonexistent. How did "it" hit me? It hit me when I saw this weirdly odd coupe sitting smack in front of me on the train. They didn't look cool, they dressed like dorks, and I'm sure the sex was bad. But, they had each other. And in the 15 minutes that they rode this train that seemed to be all they needed. They didn't kiss each other or grope each other. None of that. They sat close and held hands. She touched his temple and traced it to the tip of his brow. She then laid her head on his shoulder and he laid his on top of hers. She didn't look like she ever washed her hair yet he breathed it like it was the last scent of life that he would ever taste.

So then I went back in my head to every "relationship" I ever had. None compared. I have experienced the deep emotions that were always soon complicated with pain. I've felt that feeling that I just had to be with someone because absence was the quickest route to displeasure. But nothing compared to this simple odd love that they had. They didn't even notice me looking at them because they were so into this imaginary zone that they had created through glances and gentle, non-sexual touches.

What in the hell did she do to get this love? I just knew I was prettier than her. But, she had him. Though I did not find him attractive and I knew he definitely was not my type, she had him. I thought to myself, “Hell, I'm cute, I could take him.” But, I knew I couldn't. As I watched I knew that at that moment, I had accepted the defeat of a battle I hadn't even fought. They reeked of so much imperfection that they were perfect for each other. They loved love and I knew I could never compete with that.