Thursday, November 13, 2014

Life Lessons.

"“There’s a wonderful old Italian joke about a poor man who goes to church every day and prays before the statue of a great saint, begging, “Dear saint-please, please, please…give me the grace to win the lottery.” This lament goes on for months. Finally the exasperated statue comes to life, looks down at the begging man and says in weary disgust, “My son-please, please, please…buy a ticket.”" 

—  "Prayer is a relationship; half the job is mine. If I want transformation, but can’t even be bothered to articulate what, exactly, I’m aiming for, how will it ever occur? Half the benefit of prayer is in the asking itself, in the offering of a clearly posed and well-considered intention. If you don’t have this, all your pleas and desires are boneless, floppy, inert; they swirl at your feet in a cold fog and never lift.” - Liz Gilbert 

 Here’s to buying a ticket.

Reposted from one of my favorite blogs:

Monday, November 10, 2014

Shits and Giggles Mondays

Happy Monday y'all! Don't forget that "only the winner gets to copulate."

It's a tidbit of info that can really be applied to our lives, kind of like "work hard, play hard."

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Real Sex Tips.

"I am not asking for it unless I actually ask for it."

I wish I could hug this poem.

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Mindy Kaling and That Question About Her Racial Preference

Let me set the scene: It's the Vanity Fair Oscar Party and E! correspondent Alicia Quarles (African-American) is interviewing celebs on the red carpet. Mindy Kaling (American-Indian) stops on her way inside to give an interview and part of their conversation goes a little like this:

 Quarles:'So who's your type?
 Kaling: 'Who's my type? Good looking,'
 Quarles: 'Okay, so any color?'
 Kaling: 'Yeah'
 Quarles: 'Girl, kiss some Black men on that show.'
 Kaling: 'Oh, I have and I will. It’s something people can look forward to.'

Hmmm.  This racist-ish interview... will be addressed another time.

Have you ever been asked what your racial preference is when it comes to dating?

 I have. A lot.

 It seems like an innocent enough question but it's weird that it even matters.

What I have discovered is that a lot of my friends think I "belong" with someone outside of my race. I've been told that I should date white men because black men can't "handle" me. I've been told I'm the kind of black girl that should be dating a white guy.

 What kind of Black girl can handle a Black guy? What does that even mean?

It irritates me that because of my personality, people feel I'm somehow not right for a black male.  But at the end of the day, I have to remind myself I don't care.

Because guess what? I am an equal-opportunity employer. My preference is HOT. I also like them funny, considerate and good to their families. I like a guy that is just as comfortable at a Kanye concert as he is at a Foo Fighters concert. I like a guy who has morals. I like guys who work hard. And I like them hot. Charlie Hunnam, Idris Elba, John Cho, Diego Luna, God-Bless-Your-Parents-Your-Ass-Is-Fine-Hot.

But it's not a deal-breaker if you're awesome.

At the end of the day if you're with someone you love and who treats you right, does it really matter how much melanin he/she has?

Friday, November 7, 2014

Thursday, November 6, 2014

The Perks of Being Homeless.

Last November, I started a really grown-up job at a magazine in Nigeria. Sure, it went against my original plan (graduate from college, work in NY as an editorial assistant making my way up to editor, write my first book and spend the rest of my days freelancing for ridiculous amounts of money) but seeing as I never worked my way up to editor before moving straight to freelance writing, I figured I could go back a few steps. Besides the lure of a 9-5 job with a steady paycheck was too appealing.

 So with my grown-up job, came the need for a grown-up apartment and all the responsibilities that go along with it. I would be lying if I said I didn't love my fancy job and my fancy apartment and an excuse to wear heels every day. I do well with structure, I kinda need it to be productive. And I liked not having to explain what I do for once. I am constantly battling my sensitivity to the fact that some people don't take what I do seriously. Working from home comes with a constant side-eye from people who don't understand how you get paid to be in your pajamas in the afternoon. So having a "real" job was nice.

 Flash-forward a year and I'm back in the states for the time being. I let go of my job and my apartment is vacant. My current billing address has a Connecticut zip code so I guess that's my current home except it isn't permanent. My sister is already itching for her alone time so I can't imagine she'll want me around very long. When she's ready, I'll give her and my nephew the space to live their lives. When that happens, I don't know what the next step is but I think I'm done with the office life this time. One of the things I've enjoyed about the last two years is the amount of traveling I've done. Why stop now? The perks of being single, childless and homeless is being unattached. I've said it before and I'll say it again, when it comes to your life being a selfish asshole is okay.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Reformed People Pleaser.

I'm a huge believer in self-reflection as a preliminary step towards self-improvement. I'd be lying if I said I have it all figured out now that I'm older. I constantly find myself having to relearn the lessons I was taught before.  I noticed most of the things that bother me about me have a common thread. Let's see if you recognize it:

  • Saying "sorry" all the time. 
  • Caring too much when someone doesn't like me.
  • Bending over backwards to accommodate people.
  • Putting other people's priorities before my own.

Raise your hand if you're a people pleaser?

Yeah, being a people pleaser sucks. I don't want to do it anymore.

People pleasing is like being addicted to drugs. I love the feeling I get from helping people. The problem there is, the dealers of the euphoria people pleasing gives, know you love that shit. Next thing you know, you've given everything you have just for the fleeting feeling of knowing you "did the right thing", "were a huge help", "are the best", "are the nicest".

Fuck that noise.

Saturday, November 1, 2014

When Your Taste in Men is Shit.

I realized I've been dating for ten years. Isn't that crazy? I don't even know how to feel about that. If dating was a career and the last ten years were a bust, wouldn't it be time to switch careers?

Or is it more about the journey and all that other zen stuff?

We can all hope that as we age, we wizen up. I certainly have. There are a lot of things I believed in and did in my late teens/early twenties that I now realize was just stupid. For example, after reflecting on the past ten years, I can admit my taste in men was bad.

I would have saved myself a lot of time if I had some standards and stuck to them.

I realize now that:

I no longer feel the need to entertain a guy just because he's interested in me. 

My mother has started giving my number out to randoms. I guess I should be more upset but I really don't care. My policy is "just because you call, doesn't mean I have to pick up the phone."

I can't tell you how many guys I went out with because I wanted to give them a chance, even though I wouldn't let them near my hands, let alone my vagina. Ladies, if you're not into the guy asking, don't feel bad about it and go out with him anyway.

Sensitive, arty types with hipster tendencies are the WORST.

Having a boyfriend seemed like one of the most amazing things ever as a teenager. But it wasn't just about having a boyfriend, it was about having the right boyfriend. I'm a product of the 90s and I was an angsty youth which pretty much means Angela Chase was my jam. So in my head, the perfect guy for me had to be sensitive but strong, self-deprecating but confident, good-looking but completely unaware of it, and an artist (because I wanted someone who would "get me"), a fan of indie music (being in a band was negotiable).

28 yr old me to 17 yr old me: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! 

Does a good-looking artist who is confident but modest exist? I'll never know because I am done with artists.

What used to sound so cool to me is, in reality, a freaking nightmare. I dated an actor for a while. I have never been with a more confused, indecisive person in my life. There's nothing romantic about a guy that doesn't know what he wants.

Guys either like you or they don't.

Look, don't waste your time with guys who can't take the time to pick up a phone and call. Don't waste your time on a guy that makes every single warning sign buzz and light up. If you have to constantly rationalize why he:

only texts you at night,

is in a "complicated" relationship,

likes you a lot but doesn't want to put labels on anything,

doesn't know what you do for a living/ what your last name is/ takes you to a steak restaurant on your bday even though you're a vegan and you told him that (true fucking story).


So my goal in life is to find a balance between these ideas:

Don't waste your time. 


Don't crap on anything in life that teaches you a lesson and helps you grow.

Here's to figuring it out.