Welcome to the Friendzone

I just don’t know what the big deal is about the friend zone. Back in my savage dating days, out of the pool of losers I involved myself with there was maybe 2 or 3 I actually liked as people and would want to continue to keep in touch with. Apparently, the truth of the matter is that no guy wants to be your friend. EVER…Period.

He Used to Call Me on My Cellphone…

Help me out with the rules, please! I think I’ve been chastised enough and have found out the hard way that apparently you absolutely CANNOT try to be friends with a dude after sleeping with him—no matter how casual the sex was. Not to sound whiny, but I don’t think that’s fair. *stomps foot*

For example, I had a man casually dragging me along in a situationship/cuffing season arrangement. It was clear to me that he wasn’t interested in making me his girl, however he did want to call and yak on the phone about his new job and his baby mama getting on his nerves. Can I say that this is my pet peeve? If you are objectifying me in a situation that is only about sex then I don’t want to see cute pictures of your snotty nosed little kids. FOH! When I told him I was seeing someone else and it was becoming serious, he was not a happy camper. When I extended the olive branch of maintaining a friendship (because he was fresh out of jail and didn’t have a support system (I know, I need to get my life together– but that’s another post) you would have thought I shot his dog!

I mean, I get it BUT my real feelings are: get over yourself and your busted ass ego. It shouldn’t be a huge wound to your pride that someone you were using for sexual purposes no longer wants to be USED FOR SEXUAL PURPOSES! It has nothing to do with your skills in the bedroom—what If I told you that women don’t like wasting a lot of time with men with commitment issues? So let’s cut out the sex stuff and just kick it if we enjoy each other’s company. The problem with that is, niggas these days don’t want to choose you but want to get chosen by you, then want to boo hoo about the friend zone. How did you get there, homie? And is it the friend zone or the “she ain’t ever going to give me no pussy zone”. It’s a cup half empty or half full kind of situation, and just wanting sex from a woman is not the same as wanting to be her dude and/or being interested in her as a person so I don’t feel sorry for you.

The Weeknd

Have you really earned sex with a woman just because you spent time with her?

I’m not trying to sleep with you anymore but if you want to talk sometime to vent about life or meet up for a drink, cool. Otherwise, kick rocks because that means you were operating off the ” I don’t want you but no one else can have you” plan and NOW you want to wait in the wings periodically texting for relationship with new nigga updates so you can swoop in when times are hard. Ok… I can see why we don’t get to be friends.

Build A Bae

On the other side of it, there are men that I’ve met while out networking and wanted to build friendships with but it’s nearly impossible because no matter what I believe, society believes that men and women are incapable of platonic friendships. I’m trying to get over what others may think but the stigma makes things a little awkward. How do I go about things without it looking like I’m playing the slow game to build a Bae?

In the spoken word community, the places I’ve been so far it seems to be a bit of a boy’s club. If I connect with someone’s writing or personal story while they’re on stage it feels a bit uncomfortable approaching anyone after a show, much less someone of the opposite sex. As an adult woman I don’t see anything wrong with building a network of friends that share common interests. Especially since I am a mother with a full time career and relationship with my own man to maintain; it’s not as if I have plans to be giggling on the phone with this person into the late night hours. It’d just be nice to form a bond with someone without it being perceived as a come on, but I get the distinct impression that as an adult we aren’t really allowed to have opposite sex friends; so why bother?

ATTENTION

Mature women will not waste your time simply to get male attention

This isn’t high school (at least I hope it’s not) mature women don’t plan to attach themselves at the hip to someone who they know harbors feelings for them and force them to cuddle and paint toenails while rejecting their romantic advances for the sake of attention. However, when we attempt to find friendship with a male we automatically run the risk of entering into a friendship, while he is entering into a “friendship”. So, after a hangout you think you had fun with your homie, while he’s nursing his blue balls wondering what he has to do to climb his way out of the friend zone. When did it become a zone as opposed to a ship? And my real question: when did men lose track of their self-control to the point where they can’t even relate to women unless sex is either on the table, or at least slow simmering on the stove to later be served on the table?

The Age Old Question

I suppose maybe I’ve turned into one of those ridiculous people that are offended by everything on the internet but I truly resent the jokes about the friendzone. As a woman I have much more to offer besides bomb ass sex (dammit!) and I don’t want to think that every male is ultimately and secretly after that. It’s safer to just not even attempt to be friends with men at all, and befriending a woman in the area I live in is hardly worth the effort (but that’s yet another post. I’ll just stick to my current roster.

FEMALE DOG

I guess you really just can’t trust a bitch these days…

Recently, I lost a close male friend of mine because our friendship made his wife uncomfortable–in spite of the fact that he doesn’t live near me, I see him once every two years or so and when we do talk we encourage each other about family life and he gives me the guy perspective on my love life. I no longer get to enjoy that friendship simply because our connection was misinterpreted. I have dealt with cheating men who juggled suspicious female “friends” so I completely understand the wife’s point of view and I know why our friendship had to end. Even if your man is not prone to cheating, there are women out on these streets who don’t have boundaries. My ex-boyfriend’s best female friend used to ring his phone off the hook when he didn’t answer– umm fall back, hoe, he’s not your man! I appreciate and try to stay within the boundaries of maintaining a platonic co-ed friendship– but at the end of the day if the siginificant other ain’t down you just have to let it go. It feels a lot like cutting ties with a family member and if allow myself to think about it, it actually makes me pretty sad. Perhaps society itself has lost trust in the bonds that bring people together outside of sexual relationships. So, maybe I shouldn’t bother lamenting the lack of male friendships in my life because who really wants to go through the loss again when that new friend gets a serious girlfriend and has to cut you out of his life as if you’re some home wrecking whore and not just a person who has made a genuine platonic connection…?

Embrace the Crazy: Behind the Scenes Photo Shoot

So, I had put off this photo shoot for a few weeks because at the time it was supposed to happen I just didn’t have the energy to go through with it. I just was not mentally there. So, fast-forward to the morning of November 17 and I am feeling really self-conscious and nervous about the shoot so naturally I ate a piece of cake for breakfast to boost my self-esteem and calm my nerves. I was in line at the CVS buying the thickest pair of false eyelashes I could find and suddenly aware that I was about to be half naked in front of two of my closest friends. Was there any way out of this?! Whose idea was this, anyway? …oh, wait that ‘s right, it was my idea.

I am happy to report that I not only survived, but my friends Angela and Justin survived. I wanted to show the Behind the Scenes stuff just to sort of give more background AND to show that I am fully aware that I am not a model. I was far far and away from my level of comfort.

Why the Straight Jacket, You Insensitive Bitch?

I feel like I’ve clarified the purpose of this blog enough that I don’t want to go overboard with it. Everything I write about is internal, it’s about me and it has nothing to do anyone and their personal experience but if you can’t get with it—that’s cool. The jacket is a serious piece, it represents how stifled and censored I feel when I am attempting to live up to the standards of others. The concept of a straight jacket was fascinating to me—it’s purpose to detain and constrain and the positioning of the arms hugging yourself. I appreciated the symbolism of feeling confined by the standards of most people and looking inward to find the strength to break free of their expectations and marching to the beat of your own drum.

If you want one they’re like $30 on Amazon.

Where are my pants?

In my bag somewhere—in order to just dive into things I shed them immediately when we got there. It was nerve racking and took me so far out of my comfort zone I almost called it off. However, when I am compelled to do something I am driven and I can’t stop or let it go—and that’s why I have so much trouble in dating and life in general—but I digress. I feel it was important for me to be as exposed as possible because that’s what the blog is all about. After harboring so many secrets about my well-being and hiding who I truly was from the world I developed a deep fear of exposure so I’m always trying to push myself to be open and to accept myself as I am because I’m fully aware that most won’t. Kind of a “be kind to yourself because no one else gives a shit” thing, or however that saying goes. Furthermore, it’s been no secret my struggles with my weight. I am the largest I’ve ever been and I continue to be so hard on myself because of it. Embrace the crazy… embrace the fatty, this is me pure and unadulterated (besides a face full of makeup!)

Photoshoot? You are definitely no model…

Exactly.

How do you feel now?

Incredibly silly. This isn’t my thing, I just wanted to try it for once if not only for the fact that I’m a woman and want to feel pretty sometimes, dammit! Promo is a necessary evil—and I started off doing the blog just for me because I have to write to maintain my sanity, but now I’m interested in pushing things further and seeing how far it can go. I’m only 6 months in but I do wish to establish a brand that I can feel good about—because of the subject matter, that brand is ME. Only now I will have a drawer full of about 20 shots of me in a straight jacket struggling not to look goofy and cross-eyed in front of the camera. But as I continue to challenge myself by doing random things that put me out there, I learn more about who I am and I have become more comfortable in my skin.

Anything else?

I really and truly thought that straight jacket was going to be so much longer! :-/ I’m showing a lot of leg!

Just for Laughs…

One of my tags for the YouTube video is “BBW” and to me, this is the funniest thing on Earth 😉

Stay tuned for the official post to celebrate my 6 month “blogoversary” and the final reveal of the photos!

Thanks for Reading,
Your Homie

I Hope There’s No Camera in the Break Room

Day 1: Uncomfortable Incidences

            Got lost on my way to the bathroom (this is a given)

            Accidentally knocked down paper towel roll

It appears some of my cheap ass nail polish has smeared onto a few  documents

 I’ve squoze back into my little work pencil skirt and here I am, behind a desk again. The awesome upside is that because I’m specialized in the accounting field I get paid a little bit more than the average temp to essentially do the same filing and data entry crap. For this I am grateful! I’m sure I don’t have to share exactly how and why temp work absolutely sucks. For starters, I’ve met everyone on staff via awkward hellos as they were en route to the breakroom and/or bathroom. Also, you have to get a key from the receptionist to use the bathroom and I’m just not sure Mary and I are that close where she should be privy to my bathroom habits.

This morning I walked into the break room and the very first thing I noticed was the huge screen tv in the corner and a bottle of wine next to the coffee pot– things were looking up! However, microwaving my leftovers for lunch I noticed there was organic ketchup in the condiments drawer soooo I’m just hoping to successfully avoid the person that belongs to. (Organic ketchup = douchebag). I’m working for these cute little ladies that are all chatty and no clear directions. They’re so busy they barely wait to even listen to all I have to say before they’re moving on to the next thing– which works for me because I trail off the end of my sentences anyway because lazy. The major dilemma of the morning is that my breath smelled appalling. I usually keep gum in my purse but I had to swap out my hippie “Jerusalem” sack that my parents gave me when they went to Israel, for a regular purse and some stuff got lost in the transition. So, I’m towering over these tiny women with my awful breath and I think I know what a fire breathing dragon feels like.  You know, minus the power of setting people on fire to get what I want. Wow, this is starting to sound crazy!  Goodbye for now, I’ll keep you posted on day two.

Notes to self:

-Stop saying “yeah” say “yes.”

-Maybe less eyeliner tomorrow, your eyes keep watering.

-Bring snacks, you are HUNGRY!

-Remember the high powered electric stapler makes a loud noise and try not to shit yourself every.single. time you staple something!

–Ur Homie

 

 

 

Why Is This A Thing?

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Image from: tasramar.com

Oh, it’s just so adorbs to be awkward, right? I mean, you got your Zoey Deschanel, Ana Faris and I can’t walk by a hipster without hearing the latest insight about Awkward Black Girl. (I, for one, have never seen an episode but I am fairly sure if I ever watched one I would probably be “you go girling” at the screen a la Ricky Lake circa 1995). However, *YAWN*, I’m over it. Not to sound bitter, but this whole awkward stuff? This was not cool when I was in high school. I call bullshit on the whole thing. Awkward certainly does not mean a 6 page spread in Vogue, a size 2 figure and alluring blue eyes…not where I come from anyway.

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Image from: features.rr.com

I think of myself (and my oldest, dearest friend) as the original awkward black girls. If you had spoken to us in high school we would have bombarded you with wise sarcasm, talked incessantly of our love for the rock band Korn, and casually mentioned suicide all in the same breath. We were all about laughter in the wrong moments, uncomfortable love confessions to crushes and bad clothes. I mean, I was in marching band and she was a flag girl for crying out loud!! (And I say things like “for crying out loud”) The shit that is portrayed as “cool” on television now, I’m sorry to say it just wasn’t true about 10 years ago and it still isn’t now. It gives young girls the impression that it’s ok to be yourself as long as you’re absolutely adorable about it, and of course you have to be secretly hot. So wear those bifocals your optician prescribed, but also wear miniskirts with cute sweaters and spout feminist mantras every now and then. Oh Hollywood, you have skewed reality again.

I didn’t have that story in high school. The popular cheerleader was not my dense arch nemesis because she didn’t even know that I existed. Nor was the captain of the football team strangely attracted to me because, guess what? He didn’t know I existed either. I was not bullied to the point of slushies thrown on my face in a comical matter– but I did hear them whisper about me behind my back and in some way that was worse. It was as if I was not person enough for them to even address me directly. There was a dark side to the “awkward” because it was not a bragging right it was something that left me feeling isolated in the most painful way.

Even in adulthood I’ve had a hard time curbing it in my professional life. I met a divorce lawyer at a work function and in response to hearing his chosen occupation I said “Dun dun DUUUUUN!”  Shit was hilarious, right? No. He shot me a weird glance and carefully avoided me the rest of the day. I can’t turn a corner without clipping it slightly with my shoulder, I time my sarcasm wrong, I get sweaty palms when anyone of the opposite sex talks to me when I am not inebriated and WAY too many people on the streets of DC have seen my underwear because of a gentle cool breeze! Awkward is not the thing to be! I feel I want to be normal and articulate, and arrestingly gorgeous. But I’ll always be a little weird, a little off and a little inappropriate. I’ll always need makeup in my life to earn a second glance from the guys and my personality will always be an acquired taste. It took me a long while to finally accept myself as being different from everyone else and to conclude that I will always be peering into lives of others from just outside of the box. With that, comes the oppressive feel of isolation the frustration of being misunderstood and the struggle to maintain a healthy self-esteem. So, no. I must say I do not appreciate Hollywood glamorizing the concept the “awkward girl”– especially if they can’t tell the truth about it. Guys will not think you’re hot, you will not be hilarious (not to everyone, anyway), you will not be so readily accepted into society because last time I checked, the definition of awkward was not “super cute and fun”.

Be who you are rather it boring, basic, mainstream or something that can’t even be labeled. For every person that appreciates and loves you there will be five more that hate your guts—may as well DO YOU.

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The original awkward black chicks! Me and the bff Traci (apurplepaintbrush.com)