Can We Talk About Something Else?

Anything? Please? I don't want to be anti social (okay, that's a lie), but do we really have to have the same conversation every day? I know we aren't exactly friends, but if we must converse, can we talk about a topic that doesn't involve sports, music, or some woman you think is hot?

I know the Falcons lost. I saw the game, I saw SportsCenter, I read about it on the Internet. I know the college football championship game is on Thursday. Yes, I'm gonna watch it. I know the Celtics have been slumping even losing to my Knicks the other day. Basically, I'm up on all the sports news. I don't really need to recap it with you every day.

And the music? No, I haven't gotten anything new. Even if I did, when I tell you about it, you have NO IDEA who I'm talking about, so why do we continue to have this facade of a conversation? We don't listen to the same music. You like that down south hood music. I like hip hop with actual lyrics and beats that don't sound like they were made on a Casio keyboard. And while I can appreciate a clever line about drugs as much as the next man, "quarter brick, half a brick, whole brick ayyy" doesn't exactly qualify. If that's your ish, as you say, we don't need to talk about music ever again.

And the women? Dawg, for real. I'm 34 years old. I think you are even older than I am. I left the locker room talk when I was actually required to be in a locker room. That's high school stuff, dude. There's nothing wrong with looking at women, but do you really have to look like you been in jail for two years and they done let you loose (Andre 3000, 2008). Do you not see women every day? Is it really a surprise that in a building that is 75% female, there are some attractive ones? Is calling them b*tches really what we are still doing in the '09? It's time to grow up.

Basically, I'm saying this on my blog, because I'm not gonna say it in real life. I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU! But if we must can we please find another topic? I don't care what it is. We can talk about the migratory patterns of monarch butterflies for all I care. Anything but sports, music and women. That's been overdone. You're about to make me go back to the old school Rashan that spent his lunch break in the car to avoid these inane conversations. I guess this is why I don't have male friends.

Overheard While Checking The Mail

*BANG BANG BANG*

"Open up! I know you in there"

*BANG BANG BANG*

"Stop playing, I see your car out here"

*BANG BANG BANG*

"Why you got me out here looking like a fool? Just open the door. Let's talk about this."

*BANG BANG BANG*

"Who is she? Why you picking her over me?"

*BANG BANG BANG*

"I'm a beat that bitch ass when I find her."

*Door Opens - It's another woman*

"Why you making a scene out here. Go on home, you knew what this was"

"But baby..."

*Door Slams*

Common Sense

If you know anything about me, then you know that I hate when people try to be all inspirational. I abhor it. There's something in my wiring that makes me recoil when I hear it. I've tried to figure out why I detest inspiration so much, but that's a post for a different day. Today, I was gonna turn my back on that rule, because I think some of you need some motivation. Yeah, about that. I tried, but it came out like diet inspiration. So instead I'm gonna just be regular old me. I've been reading blogs this week and darn if a common theme hasn't developed. Ladies, please stop taking all this crap from these fellas. From what I've been reading over the last week, it seems like these educated, attractive, got things going for themselves females are putting up with waaaaay too much from men that do not have their best interests in heart. Here are some common sense solutions to these problems.


Problem: He wont take me out on a real date.

Solution: Stop going over his house or inviting him over to yours. If he really wants to see you then he'll eventually take you out. Or if he doesn't then, forget about the cheap bastard. It doesn't have to be anything expensive or extravagant, but a man should at least want to be seen in public with you. If he doesn't he probably has something to hide. Maybe he has a girl already and doesn't want to get caught out there. Maybe he just thinks he can get you to have sex with him without any effort. Or maybe you are what he wants to hide. Some of you aren't as fly as you think you are. LOL I'm kidding about that last one, but you get the point. If you want him to take you out, then make him. Don't settle for bootleg DVDs, cheap wine and a tour of his home studio which is located in the spare bedroom of his apartment. If he likes you, he'll do it. If he doesn't, is that really the type of man you want?

Problem: I give my man money. He wont work.

Solution: Stop giving him money. When rent's due and he has no loot, he'll find a way to make some money. I guess I have to say this, but I really don't think it should be necessary. How are you gonna date a man that has no job? And if you do, then really, stop complaining about it. But the number one thing is stop enabling his lazy tendencies. If someone gave you money to sit at home watching Maury all day, or let you hold their car to do God knows what while they were at work, would you really be motivated to go to work? Nobody likes working, but its necessary. I don't believe in strict gender roles, but I do believe that a man should at least contribute something. I don't think its too much to ask that he at least get a job.

Problem: My man is cheating on me.

Solution: Stop forgiving him for cheating. The reason he got all them chickenheads is cuz he knows he can get away with it. Either that, or because he doesn't care about you. Sorry to be so rough, but you don't love someone and then go out of your way to disrespect them. I'm not saying that mistakes don't sometimes happen in a relationship. I'm not that naive. But I do think that while you may (and that's a big may) be able to write one time off, 2 or more is a pattern. You have to stop excusing boorish behavior under the reason of love. Yeah, you may love him, but do you really think he loves you while he's accumulating a huge collection of panty-drawers, some of which belong to that girl you thought was your friend?

Problem: I think my man is cheating on me, but I have no proof.

Solution: See that's the problem right there. If you can't trust the man you're with, you have no business being with him. There is no need to drive yourself crazy looking for proof of his indiscretions. The mere fact that you suspect strongly enough to hide in the bushes to see who is coming into his crib, is enough to let you know that you guys are not exactly stable. But if you do have to go that route, please don't attack him with half evidence or stuff that you heard from your cousin's girlfriend's neighbor's hairstylist. It's probably not true, and if it is true, its way too easy to deny. Again, my advice would be to stop looking, or if you feel that you need to check up on him, then evaluate your communication. If you guys really talk, then more than likely, you will know where he is or what his plans are for the day, or what time he gets off work. Without nagging or even asking, you'll know. Communication is key!

Problem: I feel like a jump off. How come he won't make me his girlfriend?

Solution: This is common sense right here. Fellas, I'm not really telling any secrets, so don't hate me for it. You don't want to be treated as just a sex object, its simple really. Don't have sex with him the same night you meet him. Not that there's anything wrong with that if that's what you are looking for. But if you want to be wifey material, you gonna have to at least pretend. I'm sure it has happened before, but not too many dudes are gonna wife up the woman that they were able to smash on the first night. Is it a double standard? Absolutely, but it is what it is. Men want to have sex quickly, but they don't respect those partners the same way as they would someone who they, IDK, have had a conversation with? Suggestions? Go out on a few dates, have some phone conversations, get to know the dude before blessing him sexually. Or if that's not possible, if you just can't keep your clothes on around him, accept and thrive in your role. Be the best jumpoff you can be! LOL

Problem: He hit me.

Solution: I'm tempted to give the quick answer: LEAVE HIM!!! Instead, I'll expound a little. It's not okay for a man to hit a woman. I don't care what the circumstances are. The funny thing is everybody knows this, but some people give a pass. This one requires help far more experienced than I can offer, so I would suggest some counseling from a woman's shelter or something. I can honestly say that I don't know what makes an abused woman stay, so I'll leave that one to the experts. Or, you can call your cousins Pookie and Junebug and have them beat the ish out of your Ike Turner-esque boyfriend. Either one works for me.

Problem: He got baby mama drama.

Solution: There isn't one. You don't have any control over this one. If he has drama because he has a relationship with his kids, you are gonna have to just grin and bear it. That's not going away. I would encourage you to stay out of it as much as possible, but be there if he needs to talk about it. If he has baby mama drama because he does NOT have a relationship with his kids, then you need to think about whether you can love and respect someone that could blatantly ignore his own flesh and blood. Remember what I said earlier about patterns? If he could do it to his other kids, its possible he would do it with your future kids too. Just something to think about.

Okay, now I'm about to be late for work, so I'll stop here. What do you think? Is this all common sense? I think so, but then how come people don't follow it?

The Epidemic

Ladies, I don’t want to be that dude. The one that tells you how to be a better woman, but I have to this time. There’s an epidemic spreading that needs to be nipped in the bud before it gets out of control. Maybe I’m too late. Maybe the situation is already too untenable to be managed. I don’t know. But I do know that I in good conscience cannot sit idly by and watch you continue to do this to yourselves and our community. It’s just really, really unacceptable.

You pride yourselves on your appearance. I mean, you are some of the most stylish people on the planet. You come to work immaculate, or as Al .Re.yn.olds would say…“clea.ner than the boa.rd of he.alth.” Fresh to death in your stilettos, and tight skirts, with the tops displaying just the right amount of cleavage. You keep your hair done in the latest fashions, accessorized to the nines. Physically, you are what every man dreams about and lusts for. To have a woman like you on his arm would every man’s fantasy.

So, what’s the problem? Behind this physical attractiveness lies a huge problem. I really don’t want to be the one to tell you this, but I feel that it’s my duty. As fine as you are, you cannot expect to keep a man if you don’t stop doing this. No man, in his right mind, will claim you as his woman as long as you keep up this behavior. If you want to know why you don’t have a man, as fine as you are, allow me to enlighten you. Ladies, here’s the problem…

STOP SPITTING!!!! That is some gross ish right there. How you gonna just be all fresh, but then spit on the sidewalk? Cut that mess out. It’s bad enough when a man does it, but it is so unladylike. You may be thinking, “Oh Rashan is just the only one that cares”, but no, it’s not just me. I was talking to my homeboy the other day. He was clocking this tall, mahogany honey. Just as he was about to approach, she hawked one back and let it loose on the concrete. Dude was disgusted, as was I. That just ain’t cool. I mean who wants to romance a woman that is reminiscent of a baseball player with some chew. Nasty!!! Please, ladies. I need you to stop with the spitting. Come on, if you won’t do it for yourselves, then please do it for me!!! Please!!!!

This has been a public service announcement brought to you by the good folks at Beats, Rhymes and Life…

PS – If you are a spitter, please don’t tell me in the comments. I don’t wanna taint my image of you. Just stop with the spitting please!!! LOL

Rashan's Dating Resume

A Tongue In Cheek Dating Resume


123 Evergreen Circle
Atlanta Georgia 30302
Phone 678 592 XXXX
E-mail visionz74@yahoo.com

RASHAN JAMAL

Objective
To obtain a meaningful relationship with the right woman. Preferably someone with a big booty, nice lips and conversational skills.

Qualifications
Proficient in the art of monogamy. Highly skilled in laughter providing. Always remember birthdays and anniversaries. 33 years domestic violence free. Opens car doors, holds doors open, and respectful to parental units. Currently gaining "Just Because" gift certification.

Experience:
1989
Employer - Dedra W.
Position - First Boyfriend
Duties - Duties included meeting in the chorus room after 3rd period. Getting phone number but being too scared to call her. Not knowing what to do with a girlfriend.
Reason for Leaving: Position was entry level and temporary. Mutually agreed to seek other opportunities.

1991
Employer - Shaylinda J.
Position - High School Sweetheart
Duties - Duties included helping her mother find new clientele for her weed business. Stolen moments at the high school football games. Escorting to Junior prom in a tuxedo with a hideous purple bow tie and cummerbund to match her equally hideous purple dress.
Reason for Leaving: Position lived across town and neither one of us had a car. Plus, going to different schools put a strain on the relationship as did her mother's arrest on drug charges.

1992
Employer - Brandy L
Position - High School to College Bridge Operator
Duties - Letting her say that she was dating a senior while she was a freshman. Borrowing my mom's Ford Tempo to hang out with her at her mama's crib. Indulging her crazy sayings and personality quirks.
Reason for Leaving - Started attending college classes at Savannah State which fueled her (unfounded at the time) insecurities about hot co-eds.

1994 -1997
Employer - Lisa T.
Position - First Love/Long Term Boyfriend
Duties - Duties included seeing at least 6 days out the week. Picking up and taking home from classes. Standing Friday night date of dinner and a movie, followed by hanging out at her room in her sister's house. Patiently waiting for sexual activity. Constant companionship. Forging good relationships with her family. Introducing to mom and grandma. Successfully balancing quality time with her and my friends.
Reasons for Leaving: Mutually agreed to part ways a few months after College graduation, but remain friends, which was the strongest part of our relationship. No animosity or ill will exists.

1998 -
Employer - Veronica H.
Position - What the hell was I thinking?/Stalkee
Duties - Getting stalked. Liking the attention so much that I looked past the glaring signs that she was crazy. Protected her daughter from vicious ass-beatings (I was the only one she listened to and that was only sometimes.) Never going out in public. Refusing to marry her even though she asked me multiple times. Refusing to lie and say I loved her. Confusing all my friends by staying with her for 6 months even though it was clear I didn't even like her. Did I mention getting stalked?
Reason for leaving - I know I'm supposed to be positive on my resume, but I can't muster up anything except...THIS CHICK IS NUTS!!! I GOT EMAILS TO PROVE IT!!! Who tries to put roots on their exes? Who threatens to kill themselves because they got dumped. 10 Years of ignoring and being mean to her and she still sends me messages on MySpace.

1999-2001
Employer - Nicole T.
Position - Live in Booty
Duties - Moving in together after 6 days of dating. Running off all my female friends for her. Committing white collar crime together (allegedly) Moving to Atlanta with her after alleged white collar crime blew up in my face. Falling in love with her. Living together for 2 years. Remaining non violent when she confessed her infidelity.
Reason for leaving: She decided to fill my position with a new employee.

2001 - 2003
Employer - Free lance
Position - Manwhore/Hermit
Duties - Not caring about them hoes. Not loving them hoes. Not being bothered with them hoes.
Reason for leaving - Got back to being the real me, the serial monogamist

2003-2004
Employer - Tweety B.
Position - Long Distance Relationship Guy
Duties - Making 3 hours drive bi monthly to see her. Long phone conversations when we weren't in person. Managing not to snap when she questioned me all the time. Not changing when she wanted me to. Fought through incompatibility to remain warm and friendly.
Reason for leaving: Realized on the eve of our one year anniversary that there was no marriage potential due to our great incompatibility and decided to end it before any more time was wasted.

2004 - Present
Employer - Freelance
Position - Picky Guy/Fun Haver/Wrong woman chooser
Duties - Trying new things such as dating just to date, meeting people in non traditional ways and not being so serious all the time. Meeting people and quickly dismissing them for a myriad of reasons. Forming intense relationships that never go past the friendship phase. Helping a series of married woman to realize that they should stay with their husbands. Just hanging out and keeping it light until I find Miss Right.
Reason for Leaving - Want to be prepared if /when Miss Right will have me.

References Provided Upon Request.

Please Don't Like Him

Please don't like him.. He's no item.. He don't wife em. He's hardly nice to em...

Yeah, so I had to switch up the lyrics a lil bit. I don't be one nighting anyone. Well, maybe once, but that was almost 15 years ago. But for real, I wish I could tell some people out there not to like me. I ain't the one for you. Honestly, I don't understand why some women react so strongly to me. Don't get me wrong. I know that I'm extremely good looking and that my sparkling personality is extremely attractive, but come on. There is no reason that I can determine that I should get stalked and fixated on so much. Lest you think this is an ego thing, just read some of my archives and you'll see that I get more than my share of unwanted attention. But why me?

I mean, I'm not the type that women typically go for. I'm not tall, there ain't no six next to feet in my height. I'm not muscular, bout the only thing that's diesel on me are my shoulders and powerful calves. I don't be flashing money. Hell, I got a little bit of change, enough just to get by. I don't have a new whip, my car is a teenager. So what does that leave? Maybe its my personality. Yeah, but I'm weird. I'm sarcastic, standoffish, difficult if you will. If you get on my nerves, I might say something mean to you. It's just the way it is. All that is not normally conducive to people liking you. But for me its the opposite. No matter how much I push people away, they keep coming back for me. I really don't get it.

That's not to say that I'm like that when I'm interested in someone. They get to know the real me. The one that is, dare I say, nice. The one that people label "sweet", which I just don't like for everybody to know. The one that knows how to control his jerkish tendencies. But I need to know, what is it about me that causes random people to like me so much? Do I be sprinkling crack on my blog? Do my conversations have extra addictive qualities? Is ignoring people and making jokes at their expense what's hot for the 08? I even told a woman that she was a stalker to her face, and she laughed it off. I just don't get it. Please don't like him if he doesn't like you back. It'll make things easier for both of us. Thanks in advance.

I Know A Woman

I know a woman that is so competitive that in almost all of our conversations, a contest of some sorts develops. I love it. It's just the right amount of ridiculous for me. Of course, being equally competitive, I refuse to ever back down from a challenge. I mean, I'm not trying to lose, especially to her, cuz she would hold it over my head for the rest of my life. Currently we are locked in a battle to see who can come up with the most examples of hood rich behavior. This has been going on for 3 days now and there are no signs of any one conceding. She is the Hillary to my Barack. That's right, cuz she just doesn't know when to quit. Also, its mad obvious that I'll eventually be the winner, but I like that she keeps trying. I admire her pluckiness and spunk, futile as it is. And yes, I'm writing this because I know she's gonna read it and get crunk. LOL

I know a woman that doesn't ever listen to me when I talk. She asks questions designed for me to answer, but then just moves on to the next topic before I complete my answer. An example, the other day, she asked me about the company I used to work for. Before I could say massive layoffs, she was already talking about going to Pure Atlanta this weekend. How you gonna ask me a question and not let me answer? Strange. I decided that I would just say the craziest, off the wall, most unrelated thing I could think of next time she asks me something, just to see if she notices. A hypothetical example: "Rashan, what are you doing on your vacation?" "Well, I was planning on creating political unrest in Tanzania. Or I might just go to Candy Land." "Oh, that's nice. Do you like my hair this way?"

I know a woman that calls me a whole bunch. No, she's not interested in me that way. She just is, I don't know, lonely? I sometimes forget to return her text messages until its like 6 in the morning, which is either too late or too early to be trying to communicate. I feel like I've been a bad friend to her, but at the same time, I don't want to talk to her every day. I already have those people that I talk to on a daily basis. I wish this woman could be like a once a week type friend.

I know a woman that I'm pretty sure is upset with me, but she'll never tell me. She hates confrontation so much that she will just ignore a situation until it goes away. She doesn't have to tell me she's mad though. As long as I've known her, its obvious. I'm gonna let her have her way and not say anything about it unless she brings it up, which she wont. I don't wanna make her uncomfortable. Plus, the whole don't ask, don't tell thing is pretty much my forte anyway.

I know a woman that is freakin hilarious...unintentionally. She's an older lady that is dating a man that lives in an adult community. When I met her 6 months ago, she told everyone that she was getting married. She was just waiting for her ring. She still doesn't have the ring, but is still convinced she is getting married. She asks me for advice which is funny because #1) What I know about marriage and #2) You are old enough to be my mom's older sister. I feel bad when I laugh at her, but I still do it. You would too if you saw her weave a couple of weeks ago. It was curly and two toned, but then she put some detangling lotion in it and that turned it stringy, fuzzy and still two toned. She had looked-ed like George Clinton. It also didn't help that this ghey (I think) dude kept walking by singing "Atomic Dog." Quote of the week: "Ever since I got these new dentures, I can't seem to get the food out of them. I can't go the retirement home with popcorn in my choppers" - I about died right there...

I know a woman that I'm excited to see and I don't get excited over much.

I know a woman that wants to set me up with her friend. She been talking about it for awhile. My only question for her was "Do she gotta big booty?" Come on, don't be like that. You remember that from Friday, right? Anyway, so I meet the girl...no, more accurately I see her from across the room. The first thing I saw was a big azz foot tattoo. Actually it was more like a foot and ankle tattoo. No, a foot, ankle, and shin tattoo. It was that big. Not sure what it was supposed to be, cuz the colors were all run together and it looked like somebody put a box of Crayolas in the microwave, melted them and then rubbed it on her foot and ankle area. Forgetting the fact that I already don't like foot tats, (that's just me. I've told my friends the same thing), the huge blob mass spectrometer thing made it that much more unappealing. Oh, and she didn't have a big booty either. LOL

I know a woman that just had a baby. Congrats Myo!!! I hope everything is going well.. Some pictures would be nice. Or do I have to log on to MyoSpace to see the little girl. (3 minutes later) Awwww, that is a really cute baby. I mean that. Like she already looks like a little person. You know how a lot of babies look the same, your daughter has her own look already. So very cute...

G.ood Luc.k Chu.ck

NEW POST SCHEDULED FOR 2 PM

Hey ladies! Missing something in your life? Need a little bambino to make your life complete? Or maybe you already have one, but just want another one? Come see Rashan. He can help you out with that. No, he won't be the one to impregnate you. But immediately after you deal with him, you will find yourself knocked up, withchild, in the family way. That next dude you sleep with after you date Rashan will be able to guide his swimmers up your fallopian tubes to fertilize your eggs. In no time, you will have that little bundle of joy you so want.

Okay, enough being silly, but this is some true stuff. I don't know what it's about, but the last 3 ladies I've dealt with have found themselves pregnant with their next partner. It's crazy. Today, I got a text message confirming this phenomenon. She ended her celibacy streak and found herself pregnant. I'm mad happy for her, cuz I know she wanted a kid, but its just strange that this keeps happening. I mean, I want a kid. Somebody wanna get pregnant for me? Wait, don't answer that. I'm not to that point where I'm ready to solicit for random baby mama's yet. I still have a sliver of hope that I'll get a wife first. I should be proud that I'm as old as I am, and don't have any bastard children running around. But for real? I'm like that movie Goo.d Lu.ck C.huck, except instead of bring marriage, I bring babies.

I should find a way to market this talent. I should just hang out at the fertility clinics and hook up with desperate wanna be mothers. It's a win-win situation. I get the carnal pleasure, and they get the kid they want. I could save them lots of money on in vitro and stuff. Maybe I'll take out an ad on Crai.g's Li.st. That has to be worth some money. Yo!! Imagine the number of women I can help trap N.BA players or rappers. Hang out with me for awhile, then go to your baller and next thing you know, you can give birth to a check. 18 years of child support and alimony/palimony. I mean, its just my civic duty to help them out, right?

Before anybody gets upset with me. I'm joking. I wouldn't do anything like that. Contrary to some people's beliefs, I'm not a manwhore. I only use my super powers for good, not evil. I'm like Sp.ider-ma.n, yo! Action is my reward. LOL

If You See Me On MySpace...

Them photos were digitally manipulated. It wasn't me. I wouldn't do nothing like that. I'm saying, the last thing I would ever be is hugged up on some girl I don't know. In the club no less. With people looking on...Matter of fact, I wasn't even there. I stayed home. I know I was saying I was gonna go to Luck.ie Loun.ge on Friday, but I didn't make it. That's right, my cat was sick and I had to take him to the vet. So, them pictures... they ain't me.

I mean, for real. Do I look like the type that would be hanging out with Kristie, Deandrea, Danielle, Kareina, her racially ambiguous friend (I have since found out she's white) and some girl that told me to call her K.Y.? I mean, if someone told me to call them that, I'm pretty sure they would get The Smirk. Especially if that was really me, sipping on Tanq and Tonics all night. But it wasn't me. No way I was in the club buying $10 shots of Patron for the ladies. And $12 Peach margaritas? Nah, I wouldn't do that. I'm way too cheap to do something like that.

You know how you know it wasn't really me? This doppelganger was on the dance floor. We all know I can't dance. That dude was out there dancing without any prodding. Does that sound like me? Dancing to reggae? We all know how I feel about music that I don't understand the lyrics to. I.just.don't.do.it. I mean, I can dig Mu.rder, Sh.e Wr.ote or Gh.etto Stor.y, but when you get to them obscure dancehall joints, I have to decline. Can you picture Rashan dancing on the floor with 4 women dropping it around him? Can you see me hanging out while some stranger rubbed her booty up on me and I'm not in a strip club? Nah, it wasn't me..

But back to them pictures. I'm trying to get them emailed to me so I can see why people think its me. I could see me taking pictures of myself, you know I like to do that. But with some girl named K.Y. that I just met that night? Who told me to make sure I got "all of this" in the picture, followed by a Vanna White wave down her short body? Someone who told me to put my hands "lower" when I rested my hands respectfully on her back? Who told the camera person to take another picture, because you couldn't see my hands on her booty? Who put a leg up on the bar stool to make the picture more provocative? That doesn't sound like someone I would be associating with, does it? Just because she looks like she could be one of my girlfriends, doesn't mean anything. If you see them pictures on MySpace, just remember that wasn't me. Now, I know how Kels feels.

I Shoulda Rolled Solo

Please forgive the tense changes...I was sleepy when I wrote this and don't feel like going back to change past tense to present tense or vice versa....

So, the Ery.kah B.adu and Ro.ots concert was tonight. I went with an old acquaintance named Marina. She was my last minute companion as my other plans fell through. Let me back up for a minute.

Originally, when I bought the tickets, I had no idea who I was gonna go with. I wasn't dating anybody at the time, but I figured that in the month span, someone would pop up on my radar. As it became obvious to me that wasn't going to happen, I came up with my back up plan. I was gonna go with my sister. She was the one that introduced me to The Ro.ots back in the '90s and I know she hardly ever goes out without her kids. I figured it would be cool. We used to do stuff like that a lot. We've been to a couple of Pri.nce concerts together, taken a couple of trips to Chicago together (my brother came too once), so I figured that it would be cool to hang with my big sis before she moves next month. Unfortunately, her kid's grandmother died this week, so she had to go out of town to take them to be with her ex husbands family in the country somewhere. So, I was back to square one. I found out about this on Tuesday night.

That left me 3 days to find someone to go with. Well, really 2 because I forgot for most of Wednesday. I thought about who I wouldn't mind hanging out with for 3 hours and came up with a short list. My work crush couldn't get the day off of work (she works until 10 like me.) My other work homey was going out of town. Kristie had stuff to do. I went to bed Thursday night/Friday morning not knowing who I was gonna roll with. I wasn't really stressing it, but I probably should have had a greater sense of urgency. Woke up Friday afternoon, like 6 hours before the show and remembered that Marina really liked Badu. I sent her a text, which she promptly returned saying she wanted to go. Now, to be honest, I hadn't talked to Marina for like 4, 5, 10 months. I only had her number still because it was written on a book of matches that I haven't used from like 2 years ago. Anyway, she was down, so my search was over.

I went to get my haircut, (pictures when I feel like uploading them) and while I was in the chair, Marina called me to confirm. I told her it was on and that I would call her when I got out the barbershop (this is not the actual barber that cut my hair, but he works in the same shop.) She called 2 more times before I was done. The first time I answered and told her I was still getting my line up, the next I was like "what have I gotten myself into?" I remembered why I had stopped calling her. Marina is one of those people that need instant gratification. She will keep calling until you pick up. While if the nature of our relationship was different, I could possibly give her a pass, we weren't that kind of friends. Eventually, I just stopped answering altogether and she stopped trying. But dumb Rashan just had to rekindle the friendship fires.

Leaving the barbershop, I called her. We came up with a place to meet. I wasn't planning on driving to the Fox, I was gonna take the train. She lives out in Cobb County, I'm out in DeKalb, so it didn't make sense for one of us to drive across town to pick the other up. We made plans to meet at the Marta station at 7:30. I went home to print out the tickets, (yes, I know I should have done that way before now), and my printer is not working. I switch it out with my old cheap printer, and that one is out of ink. Not knowing anyone nearby with a computer, I went to Fe.d.ex/Ki.nk.os to print the tickets. Marina calls me again. She asks if we can meet somewhere else. I'm like whatever. Just get there. Tickets are printed, and all of a sudden the skies open up and monsoon like rainshowers fall. I treacherously drive home, iron my clothes, jump in the shower and I'm ready to go. Marina calls yet again: This time she's telling me that it'll be 8 before she gets there. That's what time the show started, but I understood. The rain made traffic a little worse than usually, and when you throw in the Memorial Day traffic, its just that much worse. So, I drive to the Avondale train station. Park my joint, find the right train and get there like 7:45. By then the rain had stopped falling, so that was good.

Marina calls again. She is supposedly looking for a parking lot that isn't full (there are no trains out in Marietta). I see the line in front of the Fox and know that I'm already gonna miss some of the show. Marina finds a spot and calls me and tells me where she is. I walk down to her to meet her halfway... we hug hello and I usher her as quickly as possible to the door. It's now 8:15....and we aren't even inside yet. (This is getting too long, so the rest of the post will be on fast forward)

I see some people I know in line... Say what's up, give dap and hugs... Didn't introduce Marina... Marina introduces herself as "Shawn's date."... Resist urge to ask what that was about... get inside... Marina talks me to death... "I don't know this song"... "What'd she say?"... "Is that incense?"... no its weed...Thinking to myself, "shut up and listen" or "I know I can't hear you, but that's no reason to grab my shoulder and yell in my ear."... See some more people I know...give them the head nod...Marina sits closer to me...damn near on my lap... wonder how she managed to get that close with the armrest being there...Marina asks me more questions that I can't hear...show's over...get ready to leave...someone steps on her shoe...exaggerated limping...wish she would suck it up and stop making a spectacle of herself...walk her to her car...tells me she had a great time...she misses her friend...I should call her more often...I'm thinking see you in another 4, 5, 10 months you annoying annoying woman...feel like a big loser for having to reach waaaaaaay back in the archives to find someone to go with...get over it quickly...get a text from work crush asking me about the concert... find out that the coworkers are going to Ve.lvet Ro.om for the after party...hop on the train back to Decatur...Get to the car...Marina called to tell me she was home...decide to pass on the club for the evening...come home...watch some movies...have some conversations...write a long ass blog post....the end....

Oh yeah, I almost forgot to mention this: The concert was great!!! More on the actual show later, or not. We'll see.

SFLAT*: The Love Joint

...if you're too young, with the hypest body/I just don't go to a Similac party/So all those of age, we can get intimate/Bumper to bumper, so you can get your fender bent/I treat girls just like pastry/Mmmmmmmmm *smacks lips* Tasty!

Big Daddy Kane - "Cause I Can Do It Right" 1990

That has nothing do with the post, it just popped in my head...

*SFLAT=Sucka For Love Ass Trick....

I refuse to be a SFLAT again. I've been there, done that, got the scar tissue around my heart to prove it. What's love good for anyway? Everybody wants to be in love. "I love you." "You're the love of my life." Well I say forget all that. Love don't really love me no matter how much I love love. I mean, love makes you do stuff you said you would never do. It compromises your principles, it makes you weak and vulnerable, it replaces rational thought with emotional babble.

I can make people fall in love with me. That's not a problem. Just a couple of years ago, no less than 4 different bloggers people told me they loved me. But what does that mean anyway? Love, like time is fleeting. The one that loves you today will show you no love the next. They love to profess their love when things are good, but when the shit hits the fan, it's "I don't love them hoes." I'd rather you not even tell me that you love me, cuz the mere mention of the word changes everything. Just think it, you don't have to tell me. Because once it's out there, I'm gonna expect you to act accordingly. And if you don't, I'm be a little heated. That's right, I'm a sucka for love ass trick. When love talks, I prick up my ears and listen.

I'm in love with the idea of being in love. So why the disdain for love? It's cuz I don't wanna be a SFLAT. I don't wanna think about our future, our dreams, our kids, our old age, our.. well just our possibilities. I know that's the best part: the possibilities. But forget all that. Love doesn't always last, and the more excited I get about it, the harder I'll fall when/if it fails. Please don't take it personally. It's not you, its me. I just can't do it. I'm not the kind that can just be in love and then be out of love without it affecting me. Who says its better to have loved and lost, yadda yadda yadda? Forget all that. This love shit is for the birds.

Until that hypothetical time comes when I get over myself and let myself be a SFLAT again, we can still be cool. I'll still be that guy that will talk to you for hours, show you affection, take you out, lay you down (although that ain't been happening lately), share your dreams, be your rock, be your shoulder, be anything that you need me to be...except your soul mate. I can't do that without being a SFLAT. Besides, I've already had one or two of those. How's it look for to me to tell you "Baby...you're the three?" or how about "Three is the magic number" or "Third time's a charm." Okay, I'm being facetious, but you feel me, right? Love is love, yo! But it ain't for me right now. I'm done being a SFLAT!

I'm so full of crap! Nobody reading this was actually buying this were you? I wish I believed my own words, but on the real, that's not me. I'm gonna always be a SFLAT for the right one. I just hope that I can control it when the situation comes up again.

20 Ways To Ensure That Rashan WILL Try To Holla

I thought about doing a jokey joke post about what I like about women. It was hilarious in my brain, but when I went to write it, it didn't translate well. Maybe I'll do that later, but this one is less tongue in cheek than the one I wrote yesterday. These are the things that make me want to (I say want to because I'm not normally the one that initiates) holla at a woman. Again, in no particular order and this list is by no means comprehensive...

1. Smell like strawberries or some other sweet smelling fragrance.
2. Be a little sarcastic and know how to take my sarcasm.
3. Smile like you are laughing at an inside joke.
4. Say my name right. Doesn't it feel good in your mouth?
5. Have some cool ish on your ipod. Not necessarily stuff I already know and like, but something you can turn me onto.
6. Have your own signature verbiage.
7. Be a little mysterious.
8. Have a fresh hairstyle (again, don't care what style as long as it's fresh)
9. Be soft.
10. Display great conversational skills.
11. Make me look up a word that I didn't previously know.
12. Tell me I'm wrong when you (mistakenly) think I'm wrong.
13. Be a little quirky (not to be confused with being crazy)
14. Get some of my obscure references. I'm not asking for all of them, just some.
15. Have big wet looking lips (lip gloss, not lipstick)
16. Make me laugh.
17. Be a little (just a little) mean. You know, when the situation calls for it.
18. Be conservatively sexy in your dress.
19. Have a passion for something, anything.
20. Exhibit an artistic nature.

What you think? Too much to ask for? I don't need all of them, but these are some of the things that I like. It's not a deal breaker if she doesn't have these qualities. Anybody know somebody like this for me? LOL

20 Ways To Ensure That Rashan Will Not Try To Holla

In No Particular Order... Explanations Provided Upon Request... Also these are just jokes, don't take them too seriously... or do. I'ont care. LOL

1. Wear a bad wig, bad weave, or don't do anything to your hair at all.
2. Not know the difference between the general and primary elections
3. Talk to me about your period in detail.
4. Fix your lips to tell me that Tupac is better than Biggie. (exemption granted for women from California, but only the Bay Area)
5. Agree with everything I say.
6. Have a cliche tattoo. (exemption granted if said tattoo was in place before 21st birthday)
7. Wear a shirt too small or a skirt too tight.
8. Be afraid to speak your mind.
9. Complain all the time.
10. Be too muscular. (6 packs are acceptable if the booty is still intact.)
11. Ignore your kids.
12. Have no sense of humor.
13. Have standards for your mate that you are not willing to hold yourself up to.
14. Be bisexual (exemption granted if said bisexuality occurred during an experimental phase in college.)
15. Know the words to any Lil Wayne, DipSet, or chopped and screwed song that appears only on a mixtape.
16.Have no lips
17. Talk too loudly and/or too ignorantly.
18.Talk about sex too early in our interaction. (exemption granted if I bring it up, which won't happen or if alcohol is involved.)
19.Call me more than 3 times before I call you back.
20. Be normal.

Any questions? Some of these are real things that have happened, others are just made up.

7 Years Ago

This is one of those "I can't believe I'm actually putting this out there" posts. It's not a "whoa is me still hung up on the past" posts. Its certainly not a "trying to make anyone mad by rehashing past drama" posts. It's really just "I thought about today being your birthday and remembered what happened 7 years ago and it makes for a good story" post. If you are reading, Happy 30th, C! I hope you and your family are doing well. You may wanna just skip the rest of the post, I know how much you hate it when I bring up old shit.

Introduction...

7 years ago today, I learned a valuable lesson. One that for good or bad, has changed the person I am. I'm not angry or bitter about anything anymore, if that tone comes across its only because I've yet to learn the art of completely detaching myself from my past experiences. I can still remember how I felt that day and the emotions that took over me. I guess I should stop hemming and hawing and get on with the story.

April 29th, 2001 - Marietta, Georgia...

Today is my girl's birthday. All week I've been planning what I am going to do. On my last birthday she took care of me. She bought me that hot sweater, the engraved Zippo lighter with my initials and "I Love You" on the back. She cooked my favorite meal, did my favorite things in the bedroom, bathed and massaged me. In short, she catered to me. In the 5 months since my birthday, I plotted a way to make her day just as special. Now, I can't cook, but I know what my baby likes. Her favorite restaurant for lunch, a grown up jazz place for dinner. Hell, I may even wear a tie. I got them warming oils she likes, and a few other things that I probably shouldn't talk about on my blog. And her present? I hope she likes it. I spent HOURS going from jewelry store to jewelry store trying to find just the right one. Lord knows how much I despise the mall. I thought about asking her cousin for help, but knowing the way they talk, it wouldn't be a secret for too long. Damn, I really love this girl. Yeah, I know sometimes I crave my alone time. I pray that she will leave our apartment so I can have a moment's rest, but word life, son, I can't imagine my life without her.

On the way home from lunch...

Lunch at Pappadeux was good, but what was up with her being in the bathroom for so long? I was sitting at the table alone for awhile. She was probably on the phone with her cousin. They talk all the damn time. Anyway, I think I'll give her her present when we get home. That should make her happy. Maybe sneak in some grownup time before we go back out tonight. I've never been to Sambuca, but everyone tells me that its the place to go for a romantic evening. Can you believe that my disorganized ass actually made reservations somewhere? This should be interesting. I wonder if I can get away without wearing a tie. I'm so not a tie person. I mean, I'm 26 and I'm hip hop. I have my whole life ahead of me to conform. Nah, I think I will. I'll get dressed up, and she'll get dressed up and we'll just have the time of our lives. I can't wait to see her face when we get there. She has no idea what this evening has in store.

Sitting On The Couch In Our Townhouse...

I think it's time. I should give her the present now. Look at her, sitting there half sleep. She's so cute. I'm so lucky to have her in my life. Who woulda thought when we first met that we would have been living together, moved to Atlanta, and still going strong after all this time? I remember the first time I saw her that day at work. There was just something about her that intrigued me. When she asked me to give her a compliment, and I told that I don't compliment girls that have boyfriends. When she kept badgering me for a compliment and I sarcastically told her "I like your weave." When she laughed instead of getting offended, I knew then that this could be special. When she left her boyfriend for me, when she moved in with me 6 days later, all signs pointed to this being ill fated. But we made it. Through the drama with the feds, and the being so broke that all we could afford was 2 for $4 whoppers, and sleeping on my sister's sofa bed for a month, we made it. Hold up, let me go do this. "Hey, baby. Stay right there. I'm about to go get your present."

Upstairs in the loft...

I really should have wrapped this gift. But it'll be fine. She'll be so happy when she sees it, that it wont matter that it's just in a gift bag. It's kind of a nice bag anyway. It came from the jewelry store that I purchased it from. Let me just get it out of my hiding place. I can't believe she didn't find it seeing how I hid it in pretty much plain sight. I'm walking down the stairs now. I can see the look of anticipation on her face. She's damn near doing her happy dance as she is awaiting my descent down the stairs. Wait a minute, what's that look about? What happened to the big Kool-Aid smile that was on her face? Where did that anticipatory squeal go? Is she... Is she crying? Did she really just say what I thought she said? I mean, really? Do my ears deceive me? She's not ready to get married?

Her on the couch, Me on my chaise lounge...

What was that about? She saw the jewelry store bag and assumed I was going to propose to her. I mean, I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it. But today was not the day. Good to know how she really feels though. Should I even bother to present her actual present to her? It's not a ring... It's a diamond tennis bracelet with a matching necklace. She had been dropping hints for the last few months and I picked them up. Hence me spending time at my least favorite place in the world: the mall. I thought that she would be happy. I thought she would be appreciative. Hell, I thought that she wanted to marry me, even though this wasn't the right time. I'm not ready to get married either, but to hear her say those words out loud really hurt my pride. Let me swallow that shit for a minute. This is her day. Take a look, baby. See, its not a ring. Oh, yeah, pretty embarrassing, isn't it? All those tears and angst over nothing. Come on, Rashan. Put that out of your head. Don't ask her why. You know why. Both of you are young. She's younger than you. Remember how you were at 23. Do you think you were ready to get married then? "Why don't you want to get married?" I can't believe I actually asked that.

I Need A Drink...

No really, don't tell me that. I don't want to know that. I can't fathom the thought. Regardless of whatever issues we have, I am yours and you are mine. We don't need a marriage certificate to tell us that. It's been R and C for the last 22 months. We been through it all and came out of it stronger for the experience. Don't tell me that we can make it through all these trials and tribulations unscathed, only to be undone by boredom. I know I pushed you to go out, but I didn't mean for you to be giving your cell phone number to random dudes and I damn sure didn't intend for you to be kissing a guy you met at the club. Why the fuck are you telling me this? On this day of all days. What about the special day I had planned for you? Take it back. Undo this. How about I pretend that I didn't hear this? Or better yet, it was a bad dream. There's no way this could happen to us. We are that couple. The ones that everybody looks up to. The ones that when you see one, the first question that's asked is where is the other one. Trust, I had opportunities to cheat, but I didn't take them. You know I cut off all those situations that you felt threatened by. You know all my female friends in Savannah got eighty sixed, even the ones I never did anything with. You know that YOU are my life now. And you throw it away for a kiss at the club. God, I can't believe I'm asking you this. Please somebody stop me from asking this. "What else happened? Did it go any further?" Her mouth is saying no, but her eyes...

Driving Around Aimlessly...

I had to get out of there. I have never felt like this before. I just wanted to break stuff and since every thing in that apartment is at least partially mine, it's probably not a good idea. Also, she looked kinda scared of me. I mean, come on, regardless of what goes down, I'm not gonna hit her. I might smash the hell outta a coffee table, but violence? That's so not me. Right now, I'm a walking R&B cliche. I can't sleep, I can't think. I can't eat. I'm so weak. What in the hell is this about? We need to spend some time apart? I don't want to spend time apart. I want what we had back. I want to rewind time before she felt the need to bare her soul to me. I want another chance to make things right. If I had another chance to make her happy I'm sure I could do it. But really, I should have known this was coming. I shouldn't have been blindsided. They say the way you start the relationship is the way that it'll end. I probably should not have escalated things with her until she broke up with that other guy. She probably should have taken some time before jumping into a relationship with me. I probably should have spent more time WITH her, rather than just spending time in the same crib as her. You know what... I can't do anything about that now. I need to focus on the future. She wants to date for awhile, to get back to the way things were in the beginning. I don't know if I can do that. I can't have it all and then step backwards to just a little. Shiiiiitttt, I'm greedy and I know it. It's all or nothing with me. I don't do halfway. But if that's what I have to do to hold on to a piece of her, I'll guess I'll have to try. It won't be easy. Every time I kiss her, I'm sure I'll be thinking that some other guy has tainted my perfection. I'll be reminded that the love that I thought was perfect, was in fact flawed.

Epilogue...

7 years ago today, I learned a painful lesson. I learned that it can happen to me. I learned that I should never get complacent. I learned that people you love and that love you, can hurt you far worse than anyone else. We stayed together for another several months in a futile attempt to recapture the magic, but it was no use. In the back of my mind, I knew it was over on that April day in 2001. It would make for a great ending if I immediately took these lessons and became a better person and a better boyfriend but it didn't work like that. I can't front, I was an angry, bitter man. I resisted any form of commitment for a couple years after that. Although, I never reached the level of a manwhore (I'm too anti social for that), I had no meaningful relationships for awhile. I was all about that "I don't love them hoes" mentality. I was jaded, never willing to put any emotions into anything, lest I get hurt again. Somehow, I finally broke free. I can't believe I'm actually putting this out there. I better hit publish before I change my mind.

The Faucet

I walked into the bathroom to wash my face. I turned the hot water knob and the water streamed out of the faucet. I splashed my face with the hot water washing the remnants of another day out of my pores. It felt great! Water continued to flow from the faucet. Eventually the flowing water decreased, with only droplets trickling out. The hot water still felt good, but the anemic water flow was nothing like it was when it was on full blast. I turned the knob clockwise trying to recapture the feeling of the free flowing water, but inexplicably it turned completely off. Such is the story of my life.

I started to just leave this post as is, sans explanation, but decided against it. As much as I like to make you guys think I am weird, its been pointed out to me that I am not really as abnormal as I present myself. So, let me go ahead and explain that metaphor.

When I find myself getting to know someone new, the possibilities are endless. I dive in headfirst and don't think about the logistics of it. And it feels great. The getting to know you and initial infatuation phases are the best. Every waking moment is spent either with or thinking about that special someone. Inevitably, that honeymoon phase wears off, and although I still may like the person, reality creeps in. I start to see that perhaps the person I was feeling so much, may not be the right one from me. Things that I may have ignored in the beginning start to become glaring. Spending time becomes more of a chore than an adventure. Obstacles arise out of nothing. Disagreements are not worked out as easily. I will have moments where the possibilities still exist but they become fewer and more far between.

Then it happens. The feelings shut off completely. Through no fault of hers, I just don't feel it anymore. I stop initiating phone calls. I stop trying to see her. When we are together, we don't talk or do other things like we used to. To borrow a phrase from BoyzIIMen, the water runs dry. My mind wanders to other possibilities, or even worse, to ways to isolate myself from her. I turn my feelings off like that metaphorical faucet. The worst part about it is, I don't know why this continues to happen.

I've had people belie my uncanny ability to turn it on and turn it off. I've hurt people that I cared about, although that has never been my intention. I wish I could explain it. It would make life a lot easier if the water continued to flow. It would make things a lot easier if there was a discernible reason for me losing interest as I do. I hope that I can break this pattern when I finally meet her. I can only think of one time in my dating history that my interest was maintained unfettered. And that wasn't such a good thing. When the relationship ended, I found myself still feeling the effects of that hot water, so much so that I was not able to give my all to any other possibilities for an unhealthy amount of time. But that's once out of all the years, and I'm mad old. Too old to still be following this same pattern of throwing myself into the deep end, only to quickly swim back to more shallow water.

I have issues I guess. I know this post is pretty much a polar opposite of my post on Friday. Honestly, I think I'm just writing this post because all I did this weekend was sleep and think. I should have known better than to sit around with no TV and no music. Whenever I do that, I get to thinking too much. And that's never a good thing. I need a distraction. Or I need therapy. Or both. I'll settle for some more sleep now. Have a great Monday.

PS - Myo - email or text me your address. Sorry, I didn't make it out this weekend, but I got something for you and your little girl. Hope you guys had a good time. One!

That Itch

I'm what you might call a serial monogamist. I'm that guy that's always in a relationship. I've had 3 year, 2 year and 1 year girlfriends. I'm no good at the whole dating just to be dating thing. I've tried it over the last couple of years, and it just doesn't work for me. Inevitably, I get bored as soon as I can tell its going nowhere. It's not so much that I want to get married, as I've resigned myself to the fact that I'm not that easy to put up with, so that's a long shot. But it's more that I like to form connections with people. Once you are in my life, its very hard to extract yourself from my circle. Even if it's not in a romantic way, I usually stay friendly with the people that I've been intimate with.

Why am I thinking about this now? I don't know, I think I'm starting to get that itch. The ice that formed around my heart is melting away now and I think I want a girlfriend again. Calm down, it's just a theory. Real life may dictate differently, but I kind of miss having someone to spend all my time with. But at the same time, I've gotten used to retreating to the solitude of my crib and not having to completely share my world. It's oxymoronic (or just moronic), I'm aware. What kind of guy wants a girlfriend, but also wants to be left alone? Rashan, that's who.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not looking for a woman to take away my loneliness. I don't think I have that emotion. I'm (some would say way too) comfortable being by myself. But at the same time, going out on the town, or even staying in, running my fingers through her hair while she lays on my lap sounds appealing as well. And my reasons for not having a girlfriend now have nothing to do with sowing oats. It's been quite some time since I had some oatmeal. I chalk it up to bad timing, bad luck and just a general lack of trying. Most of all, its all about not settling. I refuse to be in a situation that doesn't live up to my meager expectations. I'm not that picky, but I do have certain dealbreakers. Dumb girls, no matter how hot they are, will not capture my attention. Women with poor attitudes (i.e. complaining about everything or hateful) won't last with me. People with no real sense of humor will be shown the door expeditiously. I love to laugh and make people laugh, and if we can't agree on that, it just wont work out. (Did I ever tell you that PHD had never seen an episode of Chappelle's Show? I shoulda known then, that ish wasn't gonna last. LOL)You'll notice that none of my requirements refer to the physical. I'm not saying that's not important, but for me those other qualities trump that one. I'm saying, ugly people need love too. LOL

I think I've gotten off track, but that's nothing new on this blog. I often start off one place and end up somewhere totally different. But let me get back to the point. I was talking about that itch. I'll probably change my mind about this by next week and decide that in fact I don't want a woman. I'll meet someone that sparks my interests and like the fickle man I am, revert to that guy that wants a girl when he wants a girl, and when he don't want a girl, wants a girl that understands that. (fast forward to 2:30). Or maybe I wont. Maybe I'll get my brain to align with my heart and remember that feeling I have when I'm in a relationship. Remember how much I like making those connections and stuff. Okay, I'm officially rambling now. Lemme stop writing and catch some ZZZZ's. Have a good day.

Drink, Drank, Drunk

I don't know if I mentioned this on the blog, but for the last few months I have not been able to get drunk. No matter how much I drank, I could never make it past tipsy. If I kept drinking, then I would be tipsy and sick, but no drunkenness. Well tonight, Mission Accomplished. Yeah, your boy got good and drunk for a minute. I might be a little inebriated right now as I type this, but that's half the fun. I'll read this in the morning and be like "wow, I can't believe I typed this." LOL

Desy I fully aware that I'm biting off that idea that you told me, but you know what... too bad. LOL I'm gone off some Jack Daniels shots and a few Hennessys. You know how I know I was drunk? I actually picked up the tab for the people I was with. Yeah, I was feeling mad generous. Maybe because it was payday, but more likely because my mind wasn't right off the alcohol. I hung out with my little play sister Kristie and a couple of her co workers. One was a dude, lets forget about him, and the other was this hot chick named...shit, I can't remember her name. Oh, it was Karen, I think. I should probably come up with a blog nickname for her, but like I said, I'm still a little tipsy. She was cool as hell. She was my color with some long hair and sexy lips. You know I got a thing for lips. I couldn't tell exactly what her nationality was.. I know she was black and something, but I thought it might be rude to ask. LOL They were already drinking when I got there, since I didn't get off work until 10. When I got there, I hugged my friend and got introduced to the co workers. The guy was a Haitian, and for some reason he was speaking French. After my second shot, I joined in and started speaking French to the hot girl. She was impressed... she was drunk as hell, but impressed. We had some inappropriate for the first time meeting each other conversations and before long we were acting like old friends.

Ohhhh, before I forget, she was doing some crazy stuff. Like she decided to break out into a belly dance. It was a little stimulating. And she was fondling herself all night. She was in love with her own breasts because "she didn't get any until she graduated from college." It was crazy. The more I drank, the more attractive she became. I wonder what she actually looks like. LOL I seem to recall leaving a big ass tip for the bartender too. Man, when I sober up, I'm gonna be mad at the money I spent. Did I mention we were at Dave and Busters, which I am extremely tired of, but served the purpose for tonight. Yeah, I got twisted. What was I saying... Oh yeah, so after we got done drinking we went to the back to play some games. Me and Karen, (I have no idea how its spelled) did a couple of racing games that illustrated that she was in no shape to drive home. I wasn't that much better since I hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours, but I was better. We also played drunken basketball and drunken air hockey. Not just me and Karen, but all four of us. It served the desired purpose of sobering us up enough so that we wouldn't get a DUI.

I don't remember how it happened but for some reason in the parking lot, we (me and Karen) started wrestling. I think I had said something smart to her, but I can't recall what it was. Anyway, so we were wrestling in the parking lot when the police was like "move along" so we did. I walked her to her car while the Haitian walked Kristie to the car. We talked for a minute, and then she rode out. I forgot to get her number, but I'm sure I'll see her again if I'm not being anti social.

So, I went out and got a little drunk. Good times. I'm sure when I look back at this post I'll have the WTF look on my face, but for now, I feel good. Almost good enough to go out again tomorrow. We'll see what happens. I'm gonna sign on to Yahoo Messenger now and have some crazy conversation until I fall out. One!

Confessions: The Stalkee Becomes The Stalker

You asked for it. By an overwhelming margin, people wanted to hear the story of how I became a stalker. Well, how can I deny my blog fam? If you've ever read my blog, then you know I have a tendency to meet crazy people that don't like to go away no matter how much I tell them to. Well, one time I found myself doing something similar. Here goes nothing. The Stalkee Becomes The Stalker...


She stood silently, mouth slightly agape, her visage flickering in the candlelight. A slight hint of her hazel eyes flashed through her trademark squint. As she leaned in closer to me, I felt compelled to maneuver my hands under the edges of her shirt which fell an inch short of her waistline. Tenderly caressing the smooth skin of her back, I gently moved her a little closer to me. Our eyes locked first, followed closely by our lips. A first kiss to remember for a lifetime...



Wait a minute.. Let me not start in the middle, I should back it up a bit. I don't think anyone was reading my old blog when I first wrote about her. I made the mistake of using her real name (which I wont do this time), and rather than edit the post, I deleted it. Of course back then I wasn't willing to admit that I was in fact displaying stalking tendencies. To me it was a potential love story. Enough hemming and hawing, I guess I should tell the story.


I had known Renee since I was a senior in high school and she was a freshman. We lived around the corner from each other and rode the same bus to school each morning. We were friendly, I guess, but she was a little girl to me. Not that I was so grown up, as a 16 year old at the start of the school year, but she was 3 grades behind. Renee had a little bit of a crush on me, which I encouraged seeing as how I wasn't exactly beating the girls off of me in high school. But all in all, it was completely innocent. We would talk on the way to school and in Chorus class. Now that I think about it, she was my dance partner in one of our choral concerts. I remember how good she smelled. See, I'm talking like a stalker already and I haven't even gotten to that part of the story yet. Let's get out of high school and move on to college.


A couple of years went by and I was starting my second junior year at Savannah State University. I saw Renee standing in front of Payne Hall. I didn't really forget about her, because I passed her house everyday, but I wasn't thinking about her. College had been good to me. Apparently what passes for nerdiness in high school translates into a sort of intellectual coolness in college. As a result, I had loads of fun Freshman and Sophomore years. My first Junior year was all about Lisa, my first real serious girlfriend. So, no, I wasn't really thinking about Renee. Until I saw her that day. She was all grown up. No longer the little girl that used to follow me around school, she had transformed into a beauty.


I was attracted instantly to this older version of Renee. Physically, she was just gorgeous without making an effort. You know the type that can wear jeans and a t-shirt and throw their hair in a ponytail and still be dead fine? That was Renee. (Here is gonna be some extra crazy stalking stuff... but here's her picture. This is what she looks like now. If you know her, don't let her know that I used to stalk her. LOL) It was her beguiling smile and the way she would laugh like her life depended on it that drew me in. The fact that I had a girlfriend that I'd been with for a year, pulled me back. The reality was that as cool as she was, I wasn't the type to type to stray and who knows what Renee was thinking. So I kept it cool with her. Talking and flirting when we would see each other, but never pushing up on her. We stayed friendly throughout the rest of my college days, but of course I did my thing and she did hers so we didn't see each other that often.

Renee and my paths crossed again towards the end of 1997. It was a real interesting time in my life. I had met some eclectic people that joined my circle, one of which was Lesbian Roommate. By sheer coincidence, Renee and Lesbian Roommate were friends. So, Renee started hanging out with us at our place on 40th and Paulsen. I was girlfriend-less at the time for the first time in 3 years, and Renee was looking good to me. Even better than that, I loved the way her mind worked. It was often put on display during some of our all night hangout sessions. Those were crazy. My friends and I would light incense and candles, sit on the floor and talk about anything and everything for hours on end. Most nights, Lesbian Roommate and I would have people crashing at the spot, just because they fell asleep while talking about infinity or something faux deep like that. And for the most part, we weren't high or drunk. Just stimulating, intellectual conversations with friends. My favorite sessions were the ones that included Renee.

One night after all the rest of the crew had long since fallen asleep, Renee and I remained awake talking the night away. As she got up to leave, something, perhaps the candlelight, perhaps the Maxwell playing in the background, came over us. We kissed for the first time that night. You already read about that. Now I should tell you what happened next.

"You aren't ready for me, Rashan."

I remember that phrase like it was yesterday. I knew what she meant since we had talked about it during one of our marathon conversations. Truth be told, it had only been a few months since me and Lisa broke up, and I wasn't ready to jump into another relationship. And Renee was not the type that you give less than 100% to. She wasn't rebound girl, she was wifey material and she knew it. I was taken aback that she cut it off before it really even got started. I still remember the dimple on her left cheek as she smiled and kissed me goodbye that night. I thought if only this happened a little later, everything would be cool. Renee and I could be together if only the timing was right.

I know you are wondering when the stalking is gonna start and here it comes. This confession isn't easy to make, ya know! The rest of the week, my only thoughts were those of Renee. I laid awake at night daydreaming about her soft lips upon mine, the sweet smell at the nape of her neck, her baby smooth skin. I ain't gonna front, I had it bad. Any bad cliche you can think of, I was doing it. Staring at the picture that we took together at my Memorial Day BBQ - check. Listening to her voice on my answering machine - check. Writing horrendous poetry - check. I thought of strategies to win her over, to make her forget that I was just getting out of a relationship, to show her that I was ready to make her mine. I thought of ways to see her without making it seem creepy. But the manifestation of these desires was just that: creepy.

On several occasions, I went to see her at the mall where she worked part time under the guise that I was buying CDs. I would conveniently stop by when I knew she was working. She always greeted me kindly and had conversation with me, but there is no way that she didn't know that I was only there to see her. Ain't that much good music in the world. One afternoon, I actually sat in the parking lot until I saw her pull up and then walked up on her like it was a coincidence. I know, that's some stalker stuff right there. I also just happened to be riding through campus at the time when I knew she would be walking from the library to the student center. As a graduate, I had no business being on campus, but just the chance of seeing Renee was enough for me. At the time, I knew what I was doing, but somehow didn't realize that she could (probably) see right through me. To her credit, she never called me out on my stalkerish behavior, but she had to know. This went on for about 3 weeks.

One day it all hit the fan. I went to visit my grandmother, whose house I grew up in around the corner from Renee. As I was driving past Renee's house, I found myself looking in the driveway for her familiar car. Tres stalkeresque!!! All of a sudden it hit me. Rashan, you are losing your cool. You are on the verge of being a full out stalker. You hated when your stalker did that to you. What are you doing? Are you really gonna be one of those sucka-for-love-ass-tricks that you make fun of all the time? Get a grip, homey!

So, I did. It was like an epiphany. I turned off the creepy and got back to being Rashan. I found my rebound girl and although she turned out to be even creepier and stalkerish than I ever could conceive of, I realized that Renee was right. I wasn't ready for her. I needed time to not be serious. I needed to keep it light for awhile before I was ready to dive back into a relationship. Hell, I needed a damn intervention for all the crazy stuff I was doing.

I saw Renee again a couple of years ago. Like most refugees from Savannah, she's living in the Atlanta area. As we conversed at dinner I thought about the crazy things I did back then and said a silent prayer of thanks that I got my mind right. Renee is still the type of woman I'd like to end up with one day, but I'm glad that I know no matter how stimulating the conversation, or how attracted I am, there is no excuse for crazy stalkerish behavior. This was just my time to slip up, I guess.

And that my friends is the story of how the stalkee became the stalker. These are my confessions...

If Niggaz All Dogs, Then What You Call Broads???

I need a day off from the Making The Blog series. I'll get back to it...whenever I get back to it. I can't promise anything. I've actually been sleeping regularly for the last week. I don't know how or why, but I'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth. (Can someone please explain just what that means?) Anyway, since I've rediscovered the beauty of sleep, I haven't been up all night reading and writing, but I'll work on part 5 at work tomorrow. I wanted to talk about something else today.

Can anyone tell me what song the title comes from? The first person to correctly guess wins a $10 Itunes Gift Card not a damn thing!

You know how some females say that all men are dogs? That we are the ones that are always cheating and doing people wrong? Well, there are a lot of women that are the same exact way. And it seems that most of them are attracted to me. I must give off a vibe that says "I'll mess with you even if you have a boyfriend." Like I'm LL Cool J or something. (It just occurred to me that you may not understand that reference, so let me explain. LL is always making songs about taking someone's girl like this one or this one or this one.) Let me tell you about the latest incident.

I was off work Monday, since I had to work Saturday. I was bored, so I actually decided to listen to some of the messages that have been on my phone for the last couple of weeks. I've gotten better at answering my phone, but not so good at listening to messages. Anyway, there was a message from a girl I used to work with, lets call her Roxanne. I've mentioned her with a different name back in the day, but for the purposes of this story, I'll keep her anonymity. We used to hang out and drink back in the day, but since I left the last company and moved across town, I haven't exactly kept in touch. I think I've seen once or twice and probably only talked to her a couple of more times. I called her, albeit two weeks after she left the message, and we caught up. She told me that her and her friend were going out to eat, and I should come through. Cool, sounded like fun, so I got dressed and rode out.

Let's digress a minute and talk about Roxanne's friend. Keeping the old school theme going, Roxanne's friend is gonna be Shante. Get it, Roxanne Shante? LOL. I crack myself up with the littlest things. Shante is for lack of a better, more respectful phrase, a bad chick. I don't really have a specific type anymore, but she fits the mold of my old type, short, dark and got a big booty a real cute face. And them lips... I'm a sucker for some big juicy lips. We had hung out a couple of times before, but Roxanne would always make sure we didn't connect because of a couple of drunken interactions that we had. To quote: "Me and Shante don't share. That's gross." Whatever, I wasn't really ever trying to spit game, (since I have none) but Shante was good to talk to and look at .

Okay, back to today. I met them at Pappadeux for dinner. Being a Monday, it wasn't crowded at all. I had the Catfish Opelousas, Roxanne had.. wait, this isn't Jameil's blog. You don't care what they ate. We cracked lots of jokes, and drank a few drinks. While Roxanne flirted with this guy at the bar, Shante and I talked. We talked about a whole bunch, the most interesting being a debate about whether the Democrats have destroyed their chances of getting the White House with this long protracted primary season. It was cool. Definitely better than sitting around the crib doing nothing all day. Eventually, Roxanne got tired of the clown at the bar and came back and ate. A couple more drinks and it was time to go.

Here's where the story turns. I gave them both hugs and was about to be on my way. Shante stopped me to give me her number and said we should hang out. Word?!? I was cool with that. I drove back to the eastside. Before I got halfway there, Roxanne called me. I'll give you the transcript of the call.

Rashan: Ay yo!
Roxanne: You better not call Shante.
Rashan: Huh?
Roxanne: She told me she gave you her number. You better not call her.
Rashan: Ooookay... Why not?
Roxanne: You know she has a boyfriend, right?
Rashan: Nah, I didn't know that. But she probably meant we should hang out as friends.
Roxanne: You know she didn't mean that. Stop acting slow. Remember I know you...and her.
Rashan: Yeah, I hear you. Aiight, thanks for letting me know.

I'm sure I woulda found out eventually and Shante woulda told me that same old story about the relationship being stale, or he doesn't treat her right, or they don't even talk anymore. I'm just not trying to hear all that. I've done my share of interfering in other people's relationships and I'm done. I must have a Scarlet A on my Sean John shirt. This always happens to me. Where are the single loose hot chicks women these days? The popular assertion is that men are the ones doing dirt, but if niggaz all dogs, what you call broads?

Let's Keep It Real...What's Wrong With You?

Note: Spell check is not working for some reason, so if you notice more errors than usual, I apologize.

"Let's keep it real...What's wrong with you?"



Now, I know that sounds like something I would say, but for once the smartassedness was coming from someone else. Blind Date (I really need to think of a cool blog name for her) asked me that tonight, a little after I posted that sorry excuse for a post yesterday. I talked to her during my lunch trying to get a feel for her. Imagine my surprise when she skipped all the small talk and went for the jugular. I know what's wrong with me, but I don't know if its such a good idea to let her know yet. Lemme at least see her first before I start in on my own personal therapy session. No need for getting all pyromaniac with the bridges before I even meet her.



Let me correct what I just said. I think I know what's wrong with me, but there could be a whole lot more that I don't see. Because I usually remain on good terms with my exes, I've been able to find out some things that I did wrong in the past, so I can correct them in the future. Here are some of the mistakes I've learned about in the course of my relationship postmortems.



I don't give compliments: I've come to realize that this one is true and tried to rectify it One girlfriend told me that every woman likes to hear that they are beautiful. Yep, my bad. As I think back on my past relationships, I can see that I had been neglectful in this area. On the bright side, now that I know, I make a conscious effort to be complimentary.



I'm not affectionate: This is old news. The old Rashan wasn't one for PDA. I was retiscent of being one of those lovey dovey types that make everybody sick. I didn't realize that I could just hold her hand and accomplish the affection goal. I dont have to be extra with it. Now I take the cue from the woman. If she is into it, then I'm down. If she is one of those private types, I'm all for that.



I don't respond well to ultimatums: True again. I don't respond well to ultimatums. I feel that is the single most ridiculous thing that women do. Either I do ____ or you will do ____. You can't force someone to do what you want them to do. They should either do it because they want to, or because they realize that it will make you happy. Either way, the decision must be theirs, or to be more accurate, mine. Ultimatums will often backfire with me. I'll usually choose to do the opposite of what is requested of me. It's not done intentionally, but it's done nonetheless. I can't be forced into anything. I know all about compromise, and I can do that in a relationship, but it needs to be my choice to compromise, otherwise it cant truly be considered to be a compromise, rather bowing down to threats.



I am too nonchalant: I've been told that I don't show enough emotions. That I sometimes seem like I don't care. That I can turn my emotions on and off on cue. I don't know how to fix this one. I have an icebox where my heart used to be. I'm guarded. I'm defensive. I refuse to get hurt anymore. So, maybe that does make me nonchalant. If I do care, for the most part, I'm not gonna show it until its shown to me. That dreaded L word shall nary cross my lips again, until I'm sure that its mutual. No putting me in a submissive position. But given my history, I know when the right one comes around, I'll go at it full blast in hopeless romantic mode again.



I don't remember the little things: I got this one covered. I used to be the guy that would only give flowers on birthdays, or cards on Valentines day. I got the message loud and clear from one of my exes. She told me that it doesn't have to be anything extravagant, just let me know that you are thinking of me, every now and again. I'm all good with this one now, but I guess it's easy to say it when I don't have to put it to practice now, what with the perpetual singleness and all, but I figured out that this is a necessary tool for keeping women happy.



I don't let people in: I vehemently disagree with this one. Anytime I'm in a relationship, the woman knows everything there is to know about me. In fact I sometimes feel self conscious about sharing so much. I can listen to you all day long, but when it comes to talking about me, I am uncomfortable. I don't know what I think she is gonna do with the information, but the vulnerability factor perplexes me. That being said, I still think I let people in, but if in fact I dont, that would be the reason.



I don't make decisions: I guess I have in the past not stepped up and made decisions in the relationship. There's that compromise thing again. Put me anywhere and I'm gonna be good. I have deferred to the woman in many cases, just because I'm not that particular, and they are. Apparently, I should put my foot down every now and then. But I just want to keep the peace. For example, if we are going out to eat, and she asks where I wanna go, I'll come up with something. But if she doesn't want to go there, it wont be a pleasant experience. So why not just skip the part where she pretends to go along with me, while complaining about every aspect of the dinner. Let's just go where you want to go. I'll be fine either way. I can get a steak or some pasta anywhere. Why should we even go through the charade? To me this is a catch 22 situation. Either be decisive and risk having a terrible time or do what she wants and risk being considered a pushover.



I'm just a smart ass: If you've read the blog more than once you know that is never going to change. I just have to find someone who isn't so sensitive. I will not change this, as its an integral part of who I am. If you like Rashan, you have to be prepared for a smart comment now and again. I'm not trying to be mean. It's just a joke, baby! Calm down! Matter fact, fire a joke back at me. That's sexy as hell to me. I woman who can shrug off my smart mouth and then throw it back at me? Sign me up for one of those!



I have too many female friends: Yeah, so what? I like women, they like me. Just because we are friends doesn't mean anything else is popping off. "No reason to be insecure/or immature/baby girl see the world is yours" - "Big Girl" - Nas- 1999. I do have female friends, but they always know who comes first. My girl will always come before my friends. There's no debate about that. In fact whenever I start dating/talking to someone new, I'm gonna go MIA for a minute. I've told my friends as much. Don't expect to see me for a while. I'll get at you when the honeymoon phase wears off. The female friends will not be a problem for me...anymore.



I keep things inside: I don't think so. I just have a Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy. I'm not one for just complaining about things that I can't change. Therefore, I keep little problems to myself. It's not intentionally keeping things from the woman, it just doesn't seem worth the effort of telling her every time someone gets on my nerves at work, or every time some new girl tries to holla at me. What does it accomplish for you to know all that? She'll end up stressing worse than me, which by proxy makes me stress about something that I wasn't really stressing in the first place. Nah mean? I promise anything major in my life, she will know about it. But the little things are not worth the hassle. I'm not being secretive, I'm just not sweating the smal stuff.



Those are some of the things that are or were wrong with me. I think I've learned a great deal, and will do things differently if/when given a chance. I may have a lot of other things wrong with me that my exes didn't identify. Who knows, but I thank them that they gave me some things to work on. I didn't return the favor though. Don't ask, Don't tell: that's my policy! Remember? If they don't ask me what they could do better, I'm sure not gonna volunteer it. As far as Blind Date is concerned, my answer was a little elusive, a little mysterious, but 100% Rashan.



"Wouldn't it be more fun for to discover that yourself?"