Estrogen, Insecurity, and Facebook

Estrogen: Women are innate investigators. We seek. We analyze. We find. Not sure of the statistics of men vs women investigators/detectives, but I'd put money on women being pretty damn good at closing cases.

Insecurity: Uncontrolled by a single hormone, both males and females are subjected to being insecure...overwhelmed by it, consumed even.

And what better to enable an insecure, investigative woman than Facebook.

Times have changed. Intuitions of infidelity are no longer left to the imagination. Thanks to technology, those intuitions are manifested into reality (or a pseudo-reality) via text messages, wall posts, subtweets, and the like.

We live in a time where it isn't enough to profess your like/love to the person you're with. Now days - for many females - a relationship isn't "official" until it's on Facebook.

How fucking absurd.

....and yet, I vaguely understand the logic.

(If created into a mathematical proof, this would make me vaguely fucking absurd, right?)

Dear Insecure-ass Woman:

If a man is going to cheat, he's going to cheat regardless of a social-network status. Women, too, for that matter. Even if this man broadcasts your relationship status to the world and collates pictures of you and him together from Day 1 of the relationship to the present and puts it in a public album, guess what...that makes him no less likely to step-out on you, boo.

Some guys will go to the extent of making the relationship status only visible to you and your friends. (That's what I call dedication, albeit a waste of valuable time.) Soooo....you're in your world of bliss because all 98 of the "Me & My Bae" pictures you've tagged him in are there for the world to see when in reality...can't nobody see that shit but you.

Tagging this man in all of your excessive amounts pictures/posts/etc is the equivalent to a dog marking his territory. In the words of @The_Madd_1, "If she gone do all that, she might as well just piss on me." Good point.

And hey....maybe this guy just isn't the same social-network butterfly you are. Let him live. If he's treating you right and doing the things to make you happy (with the exception of the Facebook thing), then BE HAPPY!!! I think that's a ridiculously simple compromise.


Why it makes (some) sense:

If this guy is social-network savvy, posts statuses n such on a regular basis, and is reluctant to accept a simple "In a relationship" status change on something he's on everyday then yeah... It would piss me off, too, I suppose.

I think it's especially funny when men claim to be so nonchalant about what goes on Facebook/Twitter, but will delete a post in a heartbeat.

IF YOU DON'T CARE, THEN WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO DELETE POSTS? (That was for you. Yes.....you, sir.)

True enough, a lot of women are insecure; but, somethings are just intuitive. In my opinion, deleting posts is like deleting evidence. But hey...that's just me. And that's also a whole different discussion.


But back to the point at hand:

If your man isn't cheating on you...your insecurity is probably going to drive him to do so...or leave.

Be blessed!

I Don't Need A Man

I fucking hate when a woman says "I don't need a man."

My follow-up response is always two questions:

1. Do you ever want to get married?
2a. If she doesn't have kids: Do you ever want to have children?
or
2b. If she has kids: Do you want someone to be a father to your child(ren)?

A "yes" response to either of these questions means that YOU NEED A MAN (Lesbians can make it with a no on the first one, but still need a man for number two.)

Smart-ass females like to say something about how they can be artificially inseminated. Unless evolution has stepped its game up without my knowledge and females have started asexually reproducing, then YOU STILL NEED A MAN to be inSEMENated (and yea, I know how it's spelled). Right?

Then there are the females that emphatically answer no to both questions. To the ones that say they can marry themselves, I affectionately say "Bitch, bye." By all means, have fun with your miserable ass life. I couldn't imagine being an unmarried 60 year-old woman with no kids, sitting at home, living vicariously through Lynn while watching old episodes of Girlfriends.

There isn't enough botox in the world to lift up a spirit that lonely.

*sigh*

It's one thing to "not need a man" to take care of materialistic things for you. To say you don't need one altogether, however, is a lie.

And let's be honest, just because you don't "need" one does NOT mean you don't WANT one.
Keep it 100.

Hoes Love Jesus, Too

Ask a woman about the things she looks for in her potential mate. Most women have this exhaustive (unrealistic) check-list of positive traits that no one man could ever hit "Select All" on. The list usually go something like:

Attractive

Honest

Intelligent

Faithful

Conversationalist

Romantic

Likes to cuddle

Blah
Blah
Blah

And if she's a Christian woman (or any woman of faith, for that matter), throw something in there about him being of the same faith with some arbitrary level of spirituality. Christian women tend to base a man's level of spiritually off how often he goes to church. If he goes every Sunday then voilà ---> Mr. Got Damn Right!

Unfortuantely ladies (and gents).......HOES LOVE JESUS, TOO.

I've debated for the longest how to get this point across...

Defining "hoe"
To adequately define that would take another blog and a significant amount of time. After several conversations with make-shift focus groups, the point is clear: "hoe" is a HIGHLY subjective term.

Asking random people to define hoe is actually an EXCELLENT conversation starter. Try it one day.

The best I've been able to forge thus far is:

hoe \ hō \ (noun): a male or female with some societally unacceptable level of promiscuity

I also like how @BluuDemize put it. Something to the effect of

"Women can't define hoe. They just know they ain't one."

....although HE never gave a definition either. Side eye.

It may also be used as an adjective or an adverb, but....that's for another time.


Hoes love God, and God loves hoes
Throughout the Bible, there were prostitutes (Biblical hoes). Some of them were winning.

Hosea 1:2: When the Lord began to speak through Hosea, the Lord said to him, “Go, marry a promiscuous woman and have children with her..."

Judeges 11:1:  Jephthah the Gileadite was a mighty warrior. His father was Gilead; his mother was a prostitute.

1 Kings 14:24: There were even male shrine prostitutes in the land...

Joshua 2:1: Then Joshua son of Nun secretly sent two spies from Shittim. “Go, look over the land,” he said, “especially Jericho. ” So they went and entered the house of a prostitute named Rahab and stayed there. Then in Joshua 2:14 they told her: "If you don’t tell what we are doing, we will treat you kindly and faithfully when the Lord gives us the land.”

More prostitutes in the Bible: http://noreligionblog.wordpress.com/2010/03/31/top-thirteen-prostitutes-of-the-bible/  It's amazing how much one can learn from atheists about the Bible. I dig it.

Then of course, there's Mary Magdalene. But nothing in the Bible ever said she was a prostitute. Just that 7 demons were eradicated from her. Be it as it may, Mary loved Jesus and Jesus loved her back.


Anyway, the  Whole Point of this Blog:
The amount of time a person spends in church is not directly proportional to

• how close his or her walk is with God,
• the likelihood he or she will not cheat on you, nor
• how good he or she will treat you.

Per bullet two, hoes can love Jesus/God/the Holy Spirit, too. And yes, they can even get married and give birth to strong warriors...

...however, it saddens me when women get their hopes up over a man just because he goes to church every Sunday. There's that slight possibility that he's there every Sunday because he's praying that he didn't become a daddy Saturday night. (BTW, I have no clue if men have this notion that women that go to church every Sunday are better than those that do not. Feel free to fill me in.)

Be blessed!

My Journey to Employment (Chapter 1)

Let me preface this by saying that this is far from a cry for sympathy. I am not sad. Frustrated as hell, maybe. But sad.....no. I don't want sympathy. Just empathize with me.

The other night at church, the preacher said, "Rejection is God's way of blessing you." Allow me to share my blessings with you.

The whole job search really started with my initial pursuit of a residency. Frantically compiling things together from September to January, interviews in February, and on March 21st, everything I worked the past 7 months ended with:

"We regret to inform you that you did not match to a position."

Many of my recent blessings have began with "We regret to inform you..."

After a few days of recuperation sponsored by Jose and Jack, I began my present job hunt. From April 1st until now, I've applied to roughly 60-70 jobs. Again, I have been immeasurably blessed with several "We regret to inform you" letters, several "We will have positions open in October (or later)," and several unreturned phone calls/emails from job recruiters.

I fault myself for most of my job woes. Had I started applying to retail positions first, I'm sure I could have landed a job by now. Instead, I wanted to stay in the hospital (for several reasons that I shall not dwell into now). 

Yes, I'm sure one is coming soon. I hear it over, and over, and over. And I agree with it. If nothing else, I know there will be positions open in October. I just get tired of hearing it from everybody...over and over. And yes, I know other people have it worse than I do. That does not make me feel any better either. It makes me sad for them... I could honestly do without most of these depressing pick-me-ups that people have shared with me the past few months.

I'm writing this out of pure frustration. I've done everything "by the book." I've always known what was next. Graduated high school, knew I was going to Alcorn. Graduated Alcorn, knew I was going to UT. Graduated with my damned doctorate, and now I feel like I'm in a chasm.

On the bright side, I've only been officially unemployed for 6 days if you count from graduation. :) And I truly do appreciate everyone who has tried to help. Especially my sister. She calls me every hour on the hour with somewhere new to apply.

If nothing else, I've figured out that faith (or lack thereof) is most conspicuous when God's time does not align with your own time.

Residual Bitches

Supposed to be applying for jobs in which the rest of my future depend on, but sidetracked again... Damn you, right-brain.

I recently tweeted about how I believe many men (AND women) adamantly attempt to be faithful but get caught up letting the "residual bitch(es)" go. The purpose of this blog is to explain exactly what I meant by the term "residual bitch."

Defining residual bitch (RB) (will be given in terms of a female since it is the more often associated with the gender): A residual bitch can be thought of as either the remnant of or understudy to a side chick. Side chicks only exist when there is a main chick; RBs, however, can exist without regard to relationship status. Here, I have provided a Venn-diagram for your reference:

Figure 1
* The middle area denotes the promotion/demotion area.
* Relationshiper - the relationship employer; the person engaging the relationship



Exploring the role of the residual bitch:
1. The RB is conveniently at the relationshiper's disposal whenever the relationshiper needs his/her ego stroked. The ambitions of moving up the ladder into a main or side role drives the RB to to say things that he/she believes will get him/her there. So those times when the bf/gf isn't acting right, and the relationshiper is in need of a little attention, the RB is only one "Hey Boo" text away from giving the relationshiper all the attention wanted.

2. Fresh off a break up, the RB may escalate to the rebound, especially when there are no side pieces to fill the role immediately. The RB is the IRA of bitches = taking a Plan B even after using a condom and birth control correctly = the back up plan for the back up plan. 

It's low-rate bitch insurance.


The relationshiper will feed the RB just enough crumbs to keep the RB's stomach from growling. I'm reminded of  @KardinalRule's tweet about how hoes will give up the sex for "But YO...a GM text, 3 mentions, and a subtweet." In the case of the RB, these "crumbs" are all it takes to keep them holding on....amaranthine hopes of being sexed into a side position. Unfortunately, this is also what makes complete eradication of the RB difficult. To give up this low-rate insurance plan for a person that it may or MAY NOT work out with leads to an unnerving sense of finality. Starting from square one if a relationship doesn't work out is a headache. Going back through the process of establishing new side chicks/residual bitches gets old.

3. Ego-stroking and rebounding are really the only two roles of the RB. The RB may be utilized when arbitrary time needs to be passed (e.g. sitting in the waiting room at auto shop while getting an alignment).


But alas, I shall end it here. Love is not cursed by monogamy... However, I do believe that being faithful in a relationship and eventually falling in love can be halted by thoughts of the confinement (finality) associated with monogamy - induced secondary to letting go of the residual bitch(es).