I Love Me...I Love Me, Not?

Twas a Monday…Not a bad Monday but not necessarily a good one. Aside from the general suckiness of Mondays as a whole, I was also having a pretty stressful day at work and wasn't feeling too hot because the Red Death was upon me (See what I did there GOT fans - LOL *smiley face*). Anyway, after work I decided the best thing to do was head to Sephora for a little pick me up and maybe buy myself a little pretty.

When I got home later that night, for some super random reason I started thinking about the little mermaid – Yes, Disney’s the little mermaid. Don’t ask me why. Anyway, I got to thinking about that song Ariel sings in the cave with all of her knick knacks and whatchamacallits, you know, Part of your world. The song starts with the line “I want to be, where the people are…” yaddie, yaddie yadda. So of course I decided to do what any sane, rational person would do and that was begin to craft my response to Ariel's "directed at no one in particular" statement. And so, my response to her would have gone as follows:

Pardon me, you want to what? Be where these people are? Part of this world you say? Hold on a sec, explain this to me one more time, because I can’t quite comprehend. B**ch, you’re an effin mermaid?!?! You can swim in the ocean at your leisure with no f’s given. You can breathe under water AND get your hair wet without having to think twice. I can barely get my ass in the tub without a nose plug and some GD goggles, but YOU want to be where I’m at?!

PAUSE. FLAG ON THE PLAY

Look, The Little Mermaid is in fact one of my favorite Disney Princess movies but right then and there I realized just how young they begin to train little girls not to like who they are and to undervalue what’s good about themselves for the sake of someone else. Heck, don’t even get me started on my theory about Disney’s contempt for mother figures – Case in point: In almost every princess film the mother is already dead (Sleeping Beauty, Little Mermaid), about to die (Bambi), OR an evil stepmother of sorts (Snow White, Cinderella, Rapunzel, shall I continue?); leaving these adolescent girls with no positive female role models. 

Yes I know...#MINDOFFICIALLYBLOWN

#WalksOffAndDropsMic

Now, I’m sure that wasn't the intent of the song or the movie (eh, still not so sure. Sorry not sorry) BUT for the purpose of this blog post I’m going to focus on the negative and keep on going. Literary freedom!

Anywho, #IsItJustMe or does it seem like these little ones are doomed out the gate. They’re immediately taught to want to be like everyone else; to covet what other people have; to look like this girl, or the next. I mean I don’t know if you noticed, but the moment Ariel was unavailable, prince Eric was onto the next b***h. Granted, the witch did make herself a little look-a-like, but he went from being head-over-heels in love with Ariel, to ready to marry o’girl because her voice sounded familiar. That ain’t nothing but the old school equivalent to “You sound cute over the phone”. 

And this is the guy Ariel wants to change her entire being for?

Ehhhhhhhh...Neh

All I’m saying is, we have to teach them (and each other) to be confident in who they/we are and to stop worrying about what other people are doing. Teach them that they are not disposable. That who they are is worthy -- I think now would be the time for me to throw in an inspirational quote photo of the line “You is kind, you is smart, you is important” from The Help, but, not gonna do it.

I admit it, I too can be guilty of allowing the insecurities get to me; I’m human. But the older I get, the more I realize the importance of knowing that I already have what makes me enough. 


So, until you love you the way Kanye loves Kanye, you’ll just have to fake it until you make it.

In the meantime (and speaking of Kanye), here’s a little theme music for inspiration:

I’m the Sh*t – DJ Class ft. Kanye West and Estelle

Got 99 Problems, but a Mitch ain't one

Mitch (adj.): Male B**ch

DISCLAIMER: The goal of this post is not to male bash in any way, shape or form. I AM NOT A BITTER MALE BASHER. *Bill Clinton Voice*. I love men. I am a man's woman. Some of my best friends are men and I was raised by a very good man. So I am an advocate of the mens if there ever was one. But this post is not about those men; it's about a particular subset of men. You know, the ones that have way more female traits than male ones. To you young sirs, I do not salute you.

Now, on to the story...

He was tall, dark, handsome...and a grade A Mitch. This was the conclusion I had come to following a particularly bitchy text I'd received from a young man after only one date and subsequently less than a week of "talking".

THE DATE

We decided to meet for brunch at this new French-African Restaurant that I had been dying to go to. A quick hug, some pleasantries, then we were seated and waited to order. As we waited for our food to arrive we began to talk. Off the bat, the conversation had taken a turn for the worse. I began with some general questions about where he went to school and somehow, some way he started talking about his basketball star days in college, and was all too happy to disclose how much females used to (and according to him, still do) throw themselves at him.*GAG*- RED FLAG #1. Trying to make the best of a now annoying situation, I asked him what he did and what some of his goals were. I listened intently as he spoke but as I continued to listen about 25 minutes later, I noticed that not once did he ask what my focus was and he only seemed to show any real interest in my profession or what I did for a living when I mentioned what company I worked for - RED FLAG #2. Finally,we started with the inevitable "So, why are you single" chatter, and the fun officially began. The time came and he asked "so, how long have you been single" and no shame in the truth so I responded very nonchalantly that it had been a little over a year to which he decided to respond (very loudly I might add) "Guess you've been putting your batteries to good use, ha ha!"...WHOA. Now, at this point, I had no choice but to laugh out of sheer shock because I was so taken aback but, seriously dude? It's one thing if we had been talking for a while or had been friendly enough that we were on that kind of joking level; then I could see that definitely being funny at a different time or a different place BUT this sir was not the time. The reality was this was actually our first time having a real conversation and I'm sorry but my sex life is not on the table nor is it any of your business. Say what you will but it was tacky tasteless and just not something appropriate to say to someone on a first date - RED FLAG #3. So by this time, aside from being uncomfortable and exasperated, I realized that any hope for a mature conversation was out of the question. Nevertheless, I continued to be the young lady that I am, we wrapped up our meals and went our separate ways.

THE TALK

Over the next few days, aside from being completely turned off from the date (and the inappropriate questions that did not stop upon the conclusion of our date might I had), it was a particularly busy week at work so when he would text I was polite but brief. I definitely didn't have the patience to deal and the more I spoke to him, the more it became abundantly clear that his mitchassness knew no bounds (did I also mention that I later found out he had a child he didn't make too much of an effort to see. I won't go too much into detail about his excuse but Really bro? Really?). Anyway, one particular evening I was at a work event where I had to schmooze with clients which I explained when he called and said I would give him a ring later if it wasn't too late; at which point I had planned to ever so gently inform him that this clearly wasn't going anywhere -- Damn me and my good manners :). Needless to say, I got home super late and just simply texted that I was exhausted and was going to head to bed.

The next morning...

THE TEXT

...I received a 4-part, butt crack of dawn text that went a little something like this:

Him (6AM): wyd and what happened to you last night cuz you couldn't have been at work THAT long

Him (8:24AM): You know, if you weren't going to make an effort you should have just told me. You know how many females would love to be in your position? I put in my time and effort and you couldn't even get @ me? Relationships require a 2 person effort you know. You could call and text too. I don't have time for games and clearly that's what you like. Females always talkin bout they want a good dude then when they find 1 they wanna play immature games. I just hope you remember that the next time you think about dealing with someone...

Me: ...

Him (9AM): Hello???

Me: (radio silence)

Him (9:36AM): So u just not gonna answer?!?!

Me: *Blocked*


I guess he told me, lol...After laughing hysterically at this wing-nut for about 20 minutes straight and of course sharing this lovely tidbit with my girlfriends I continued to ignore any further attempts at communication and went on about my day.

But all jokes aside; later on, that entire nonsensical experience would make me wonder if this is what I have to look forward to if I'm going to date *yikes*. And how many other women had experienced something similar? Had they reacted like me and kept it moving or did they let whatever positive qualities o'boy may have had (if any) overrule his mitchassness level simply because it was "Cuffing season"?

Food for thought.

Anywho, to all the mitches out there; just a few notes:

1. I don't work for you - I personally love confidence in a man but I despise cockiness. You know, the cocky mofos who constantly need to have their egos stroked or do dumb stuff to make you jealous. No Thanks. And if you were expecting someone to fall into that thirst trap or feed your ego, you got the wrong one boo boo

2. Uncle Joey says "Cut. It. Out" - Seriously, cut it out. You're a grown ass man (and entirely too old might I add)

3. And most importantly: FOH (for those of you who don't know what that means, please look it up. Keeping it PG13 out here) - Anyone who knows me, knows my tolerance level for tomfoolery is non-existent. I said it once and I'll say it again, Ain't nobody got time for that

SO ladies, what do you think (men feel free to answer as well) -- Has the bitchassness mitchassness epidemic gotten particularly rampant in recent years OR...#IsItJustMe? 

And now for your listening pleasure:

I Ain't No Mitch

Courtesy of Kevin Hart and the Real Husbands of Hollywood

Wax on...Wax Off

Ok, so I think I may have lied when I said true sisterhood and intimacy was in the strip club. The truth is, that's a title that should be reserved solely for your local waxing specialist, because I don't think you've experienced real intimacy until you've gotten a Brazilian bikini wax.

...Twas Valentine's Day and I decided the theme of that entire weekend was of course going to be "Treat Yo Self" 
 
I had off that Friday so I went to do what I and most women do from time to time which is exactly that -- treat myself. Kicked it off with a Galentine's day dinner with my single lady friends, got my hair, nails and eyebrows done and then the Pièce de résistance -- time to get a wax. Now I have no shame in my game (normally) but I have to be honest, I hadn't been to the salon to get a Brazilian in waaaayyyyy longer than I'd care to admit, so, I thought to myself, "Self, why not?". Why not try to radiate some positive vibes; like "The Secret", except for your vagina -- I mean, that's how vajazzling came about right? I'm just saying, I don't know about the rest of yous but I'm pretty sure most men like a clean workspace, so, I figured, "If you wax it, they will come"...Nevertheless, in all of this positive thinking, I had forgotten how real the actual process would be. I had forgotten that a complete stranger was about to get further with me in 10-15 min than most men do after a couple of months dates. I forgot that this little, old Armenian (or Russian) woman was about to be all up in my cooca, crack and hole with binocular glasses and the investigative precision of that ginger detective from CSI Miami. And I had definitely forgotten that maybe I should have taken an aspirin (or a shot for that matter) because I was about to be making "pain faces" that are usually reserved for an episode of Ridiculousness.

Her name was Rachel and she reminded me a lot of the aunt from My Big Fat Greek Wedding except instead of offering me copious amounts of lamb, she would just say "Okay, chu vant vax, I give you vax". She was sweet, kind and kept reassuring me that everything would be 'Ok' while simultaneously reminding me that maybe next time I shouldn't wait so long to come back (SHHHHHADE!). Anyway, she was quick and she didn't talk too much, just enough to keep my mind off of what was going on. Right leg out, left leg out, spread eagle, legs up and 20 mins later we were done. All in all I'd say it was a success; smooth as a baby's bottom. I grabbed my coat, my bag then headed out the door. As I awkwardly re-adjusted while I walked, I couldn't help but wonder; since I'm single, is there a really a point to some of the grooming? Look, I truly do enjoy pampering myself, it's part of being a woman BUT how long are you allowed to take a break -- a'la "No Shave November" -- before you start looking like Chewbacca? You know the old saying, "If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around, does it make a sound", well "If a single woman gets a wax and no one is there to see it, does it make a difference?" Are all single women the proverbial tree in the forest? Or #IsItJustMe 

 






P.S. - For those of you who don't know what "Treat Yo Self" is, allow me put you on some game. I present "Treat Yo Self", courtesy of Parks and Recreation: