Tuesday for Clutch Magazine I wrote the ultimate guide for staying single so it's just you and your cats until you shuffle off the mortal coil. Mostly it was about not bathing, being a jerk and generally removing yourself from the dating game altogether. Here's a taste: "I find that nothing gets people to ignore the crap out of you like not bathing for several days. It works for the homeless. Look at how people just step over them in the street. It’s that powerful. Also, let yourself go. You don't want to 'accidentally' attract someone by still 'being cute.'"
Entries in relationships (79)
Last week I wrote a post on women who get stuck on guys who don't want them. And I mean really don't want them. Some people call this getting stuck in the "friendzone." I call it "auditioning" to be someone's girlfriend when they could care less. Here's a snippet: "I learned the hard way if a boy (or by extension, a man) wants to be with you, he’ll act like he wants to be with you. It was a hard lesson to learn, but I can’t say that every person learns it."
A male friend of mine once told me that he had this fantasy -- a romantic fantasy -- of at some point in his life pulling a Denzel Washington out of the 1990 Spike Lee film Mo' Betta Blues where he falls on his knees and begs a woman to save his life by loving him despite his flaws.
While I'm more than familiar with the movie and this particular scene between Washington and actress Joie Lee, I never saw the scene as romantic because A) he only turned to her after everyone else had abandoned him and (1990 spoiler alert) B) his lip was busted so he couldn't play the horn anymore. So basically he was like "Now that I'm all washed up and a has been, let's be together."
In my Thursday post for Clutch Magazine Online I wrote about a recent NPR poll that found more black men wanted commitment than black women. Well, knock me off a chair with a feather! So I had a little fun with the findings, celebrating an end to "desperate" single black women articles and a new era of "can't get a woman" single black man articles. Yes! YES! Bring on stories about dudes dying alone with their cats!
The Snob is back talking about love, black love in particular on this March 17 interview. It aired on Atlanta's 104.1 KISS FM and featured myself, Edward Garnes, and book editor Gil Robertson about his new book Where Did Our Love Go?, released in February. I contributed to the book, which is about the state of black love and marriage, featuring several essays on singlehood, marriage and divorce. (Mine was in the divorce chapter, called "The Problem with Marriage.") You can check out the full interview on Atlanta's 104.1 KISS FM here.
In Clutch Magazine Online, I talk about why I wrote the chapter I did in Gil Robertson's book of essays, "Where Did Our Love Go." My chapter in the divorce section called "The Problem with Marriage" asks people to free themselves from the burden of societal expectations and find the kinds of relationships that work for them.
Here's a snippet:
I know some of you badly want to get married and many of you actually will. But many of you will also get divorced. And some of you will live with someone. And others will have kids, but not be married to the father. And you will feel guilty because you failed at finding “forever” with a “soul-mate.” But that is the wrong way of thinking.
Love can be for a reason and a season.
In honor of Women's History Month I'm dedicating various posts to the ten different women who I've called my "best friend" at different times in my life, as well as the dozens of other women who are my close friends as well. Who've been there for me. Who have even saved my life. This one goes out to two women I'm not friends with anymore because fighting is not a way of life for me:
There wasn't a follow up conversation when I decided it was over.
No negotiations. No back and forth. No drawn out accusations. It was just over. In email form. Two years of intense friendship cracked under the pressure of one person too aggressive and another too passive aggressive.
I was the passive aggressive one.
In honor of Women's History Month I'm dedicating various posts to the ten different women who I've called my "best friend" at different times in my life, as well as the dozens of other women who are my close friends as well. Who've been there for me. Who have even saved my life. This one goes out to the half of you my guy friends won't date because they're convinced you'll reign terror on them for imaginary slights when you only attack when provoked by cheaters, liars, abusers and other horrible people you may date:
"I don't think you should do that," I tell her ... or should I say, I tell the 1,001st version of her I've known. She's a friend. She's a very good friend. She's a best friend. I love her and she loves me more. She's funny and loyal and caring and always there.
She's also the one all my guy friends call "crazy."