The 5 Stages of Aunt/Unctivities

 "What makes [someone] an Unc?" 

This turned out to be a pretty prolific question posed to me recently by a handsome but self-repudiating Unc. After conducting a week of what I call Church Pew Research (my own spin to Pew Research), I think I have a more robust understanding of why people are adorned with the titles "Auntie" and "Unc" by their younger counterparts, and - more specifically - what constitutes Auntvities and Unctivities.

1. Denial  

Age is the most concrete determinate of the status. There's a day between the ages of 35 and 40, on average, where you begin to morph into an Auntie or Unc. It starts with small things that lead up to one conclusive realization that you refuse to admit: I'm slick old AF

• You can't eat at the same places you used to. That Wendy's 4-for-4 leaves you in the bathroom for 44 minutes now. You don't attribute it to the food at first...but it becomes more-and-more apparent that it wasn't just a one-off, even after down-sizing from a Baconator combo to the Jr. Bacon Cheesburger combo.

• Most of the new music now is trash to you. Even if it's facts, it means you're old because you actually heed the facts. You don't know who Lil Rap Alphabet is, and that is FINE.

• You don't bounce back from hang-overs like you used to. Your joints sound like rice krispies when making normal motions. What did you go into the living room for again? Making a bunch of unnecessary noises every time you shift position is a cardinal sign. You don't even realize you making the noises until someone else points it out. After they point it out, you still can't stop making the noises, so now they're necessary noises. 

2. Annoyance 

Either EVERYTHING or NOTHING gets on your nerves. There is no in-between. The Aunties trend towards everything getting on their nerves, whereas the Uncs generally take a more insouciant view on life. 

• Piss an Auntie off, she's going to talk to the manager, the manager's manager, the man that was born in a manger, and the CEO. She's going to fill out the surveys on the receipts. She's going to do the things. Karens are just white Aunties with a dysfunctional amygdala.*

• Uncs don't care enough to get pissed off forreal. It's just protein powder and vibes. They will get riled up over financials, which probably explains why a lot of Uncs are painstakingly frugal - unless sports-betting is involved. Parlays and HSAs. 

• This dynamic is why a lot of Aunties and Uncs bump heads. Aunties want to change the things they cannot accept. Uncs want to accept the things they cannot change. Neither is right nor wrong. We're just finding ways to mend the tear between reality and nostalgia.

*not an enlarged medulla oblongata, as suggested by "The Waterboy"

3. Comfortable Clothing

You slowly start to trade or expand your wardrobe to include stylish comfort or comfort alone. The only red bottoms you want are some red Crocs. Women doing a double-take at animal prints like, "Hm, that's kinda nice," is BIG Auntie energy. Men seeing women in animal print like, "Hm, that's kinda nice," is BIG Unc energy. 

The clothing also needs to be functional. A cropped jacket is cute, but it's not stopping 32-American degrees from touching your body. Jordan 1s are not supporting the arches in your feet. Sweatsuits start calling your name like the Green Goblin mask.

But best believe when it's time to put that shit on, it gets put on: clothes, scents, and aura. 

4. Hobbies

As you get older, you tend to acquire some financial flexibility. This flexibility coupled with the need to maintain sanity pushes the Auntie/Unc into taking up more hobbies - either freely or forced.

• What is a forced hobby? Going to the doctor. All the doctors. For everything. Again: It starts with little signs. 

• Health becomes paramount. You probably have more people/pets to live for (e.g. spouse, children, nieces/nephews, your favorite bartender), so you move to looking at YOLO from the vantage point of longevity vs as a war-cry prior doing some life-truncating, stupid shit.

• Discussions about bowel movements and weird body changes start popping off in the group chat.

• The dentist, the optometrist, and the primary care doc are your Big Three. You go from despising going to the dr's office to asking how are their kids. 

• Freely adopted hobbies: Grilling. Gardening. Pilates (rich auntie type-shi). Juicing. Blending. Cigar lounges (rich unc type-shi). You enjoyed traveling in your 20s and early 30s, but now you travel the RIGHT WAY. All-inclusive resorts. Airport lounges. Five-star hotels. Spa days. You've come a long, long way from the Econo Lodge.

• Of note: The shoes worn when grilling absolutely dictate where you lie on the spectrum between Unc and OG.

5. Conditional Acceptance

Life be lifing, and you can't get that old thing back. 

Some people shun the idea of aging. They are repulsed by the thought of being called "Auntie" or "Unc." But why? If you aren't living, you aren't here. Personally, if it's an overt sign of respect, I embrace it. 

How I Paid Off 6 Figure Student Loans in Less than 6 Years

I haven't blogged in forever. Forever ever. FOREVER EVER. Allow me to re-introduce myself - my name is BROKE.


So you think you want to pay off your student loans?

There are SEVERAL factors to consider before taking on such a daunting task, such as:

• How much do you owe in loans?
• What is your debt-to-income ratio? 
• Does your current salary make paying your loans off a feasible idea? (haha. of course not!)
• Do you have dependents?
• What other bills take precedent?
• Are you able to give up avocado toast for a while? 

Here’s what I did to pay off my student loans - right or wrong, you decide. I’m merely writing this in hopes that you will do better than me & still accomplish your goals. I’ve included other tips, articles, and tidbits that may be valuable to you depending where you are on your journey. This only highlights MY experiences & MY journey through undergrad & graduate school. Sorry in advance.

High School:

I’m sure your college application list goes something like:  

1. *~*~*~*~*~*DREAM COLLEGE*~*~*~*~*~*
2. All
3. the
4. other
5. stupid
6. colleges
7. I
8. dont
9. care
10. about

That’s how mine went, anyway. 

Be open. Be flexible. I had my whole entire heart set on attending the University of Southern Mississippi after high school. I was even offered a partial scholarship. Alcorn State University offered me a full scholarship......and my parents begged me to take it. 

....attending Alcorn was [easily] one of the BEST DAMN DECISIONS I EVER MADE IN MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE. 

Take home: Be open. Be flexible. Apply for as many scholarships and grants as possible. Try the Scholly app (also available here: https://myscholly.com/#scholly) or https://www.scholarships.com/

The best way to reduce debt is to avoid it as much as possible in the first place.

Undergraduate/Graduate school:

You're currently in school and you feel the Debt Monster looming over you like a storm cloud over Eeyore. Oh, bother!

Listen... FOCUS ON SCHOOL. That is the best advice I can give in this situation. Put simply, it's difficult to tackle loan debt when you do not have a steady source of income. NETWORK. Networking is essential to acquiring the job you want/need.

Make sure you are setting yourself up for a job/career path that yields an income that will cover your current AND future debt.

Sorry so short!

Currently Working:

You've finished school. You've landed the job. Your current life situation allows you the option to pay off your loans. Now what?!

PRIORITIZING, PERSEVERANCE, AND PATIENCE

PRIORITIZING

1. Define "financial freedom" for yourself.

The definition differs per person. For me, it meant being completely debt free. Since I made it my number one priority, it was easier for the rest to fall in line.



2. Evaluate your debt.

When I started paying back my loans, I looked at my "debt-to-income" ratio to gauge where I was. I used a very non-scientific approach: If my debt-to-income ratio was above 1, I would aim to pay off my loans in 5-10 years. If my debt-to-income ratio was less than 1, I would aim for less than 5 years. Because mine were over 1, I ended up in the 5-10 year mark. Narrowed my personal goal into 6 years (why??? ...no clue). I calculated my monthly loan payment based on this goal.

2a. Learn how to calculate your interest rate (or use an interest rate calculator) to orient yourself to what your monthly payment should be.



3. Start paying early, if possible.

I started paying on my loans prior to the first scheduled payment. If you play your cards right - esp. if you anticipate making more than $80,000 a year, you can deduct up to $2500 of payments on your student loan interest on your taxes during the remainder of that year that you finish school. If you make more than 80K/year, you will not be eligible for this deduction (check anyway, though!).

3a. Learn how to do your own taxes. It helps. Even if using a company, you should know how taxes work at a minimum in order to maximize deductions and minimize chance of an audit.

PERSEVERANCE

4. Check your eligibility for the Public Service Loan Forgiveness (PSLF) program.

Although I did not qualify, I encourage all students to apply for the PSLF program once starting the first job after graduation - especially if employed by the government or a non-profit. The PSLF will forgive the remaining balance of your loans after 120 payments (10 years). The form can be found here. Be warned that there is a bit of risk with this program given the government can shut it down at any moment, but hey! Who needs sex when our government is constantly screwing us anyway???



5. Don't be afraid to venture outside of your comfort zone.

My first job out of pharmacy school was in a rural area. Many health-related professions will pay more for working in a rural area versus a more metropolitan one. I used this to my advantage. Not only do the jobs pay more, but the rent/living expenses are typically substantially cheaper than living in a city. Minimizing my living expenses and maximizing my pay allowed me to optimize my outcome.

Let me be the first to say - IT'S WHACK. My social life was on life support for a while. May have even slipped into asystole at one point, but you determine the sacrifices you're willing to make. For those unwilling to make such a sacrifice - which is completely understandable - at least get a roommate or stay with family, if possible.... Whatever it takes to reduce living expenses.



6. MAKE A BUDGET

Sucks, but it works. Meal prepping helps, too. The less you eat out, the better. I think cutting my shopping habit was the hardest thing 😩


7. Use any disposable income towards your loans.

Pretty straight forward. A majority of any tax refund or bonus from work I received went towards my loan payments.



8. If NOT eligible for PSLF, consider consolidating or refinancing!

There are pros and cons to consolidating/refinancing your loans. Consolidating your loans if you have multiple will usually give you a lower interest rate. I did NOT consolidate mine, though, because I liked "seeing" my progress. It was easier to tell when I paid off a loan, which kept me more motivated.

Refinancing is a great option. You may be able to lower your interest rate by half or more if refinancing to a private lender. FIND OUT OF THERE IS A DEATH DISCHARGE BEFORE REFINANCING. Federal loans have a death discharge - meaning your family is not responsible for paying back the loan in the event of an untimely death. Make sure you and your family are aware of the loan company's policy before refinancing. This is why it's a great idea to have a LIFE INSURANCE POLICY that covers the cost of your debt plus some for your family if you choose to go this route. This article goes into more depth on what happens to your loans when you die.



9. Dave Ramsey is THE MAN.

Once I finished paying my car, I used that as an additional student loan payment. It's called the debt snowball method. (Random: I named my car Snowball because 1. it's white, and 2. I knew this was what I was going to do once I paid it off).  There are other methods where you can target the largest debt first or the debt with the highest interest rate. No matter what method you choose, make it work for YOU. 

PATIENCE!

10. Give it time!!!

This was the hardest for me. I hate waiting. We're young. We like fast. The faster and furious-er, the better (except everything after Fast 7. I am TIRED of these movies now. RIP Paul Walker).

My debt seemed like it was going nowhere quickly. In reality, however, it was!!! Be ye steadfast. Debt, too, shall pass. There are a couple of things you can do in the mean time to brighten your outlook:

• LEARN HOW TO INVEST! Whether it's real estate or stocks or whatever else you decide. Even if you aren't able to invest how you would like right now - learn the ropes so you aren't lost once you're in a position to invest more (like I am currently). 
• Let me say I don't know SH*T about investing but I'm learning! So before anyone asks, I don't have the answers you need. LoL. Sorry. But:
• Start with books like The Motley Fool Investment Guide
• Stock apps like Robinhood and Acorns are good for getting your feet wet. Invest small amounts to see how the market works!

• SAVE! I should have mentioned this under the budget. You NEED an emergency fund. You can decide how much that should be, but I think at least $1000 is necessary to have on hand before taking on your debt. The more, the better though. Don't stop saving just because you feel your emergency fund is where it should be. I mean honestly....is there a such thing as too much???

The future is going to come regardless, whether you're prepared or not. 

I know it sounds sordid, but you'll be rewarded...

Be prepared. 

I am so lame sometimes.

YOU GOT THIS!!!

Of Hubris and Humility

They say you're supposed to marry your best friend... 

My best friend is currently married to another woman.

(Story time:)

2012: I was THE shit.

Fresh out of school with my doctorate degree, my doctorate money, my new car with my new rims, and my nice spot.

I was doing THE damn thing.

This state of mind trickled into my dating life. I mean.... I was the shit, bih. I was a "catch." Or at least I thought I was.

2013: I felt LIKE shit.

My doctorate degree came with doctorate student-loan debt and so did my car. Asteroid-size potholes attacked my rims; and my nice spot was (still is) in the middle of nowhere.

One of the more important events that took place within this year was my humbling experience...

At some point during the previous year, my male best friend and I were exploring the world of what we could be and do other than what we had been and done in years prior. It worked for a while, despite the substantial distance between us. Until he stopped calling. Cut me clean off - just like Brad Pitt's character did ol' girl's arm in World War Z. Just................gone. No forewarning, no notice, no nothing. It was exactly the same: The shock. The pain. The agony. The nothingness. The knowing that leaving whatever was there would eventually lead to necrosis or some tragic outcome, but being ill-prepared to live without.

After months on end of unrequited deeper interests (and phone calls and texts), I saw a pic one day on Facebook....or Instagram....whatever. Who knows, but I found out sometime around New Year's of

2014: He was back with his ex.

He left ME for a bih that worked at the local furniture store.

Not Ashley's.
Not Haverty's.
Not The Great gotdamn American Home Store.

A fucking LOCAL FURNITURE STORE.

There I was in all of my (self-proclaimed) glory being ditched for......her? 

My ego withered into damn near non-existence. A subatomic particle, at best. I did not realize it then, but seeing that photo was probably the best thing that could have happened to me at that point in time.

2015: I realized I wasn't shit.

I wasn't shit for thinking I was ever better than anyone just because I conquered my personal goals.
I wasn't shit for being materialistic.

I wasn't shit for assuming that this man should have been with me over any other woman, period, just because I was the shit in my own little reality.

I wasn't shit.

Sometimes, it takes realizing you aren't shit to motivate you to become a better person.

I would like to believe I changed for the better that year

In addition to my personal epiphany, my best friend and I managed to reconnect and mend our friendship. He claimed that pursing a relationship with his ex was a bad decision, but fate* saw fit to assist him with the bounce back from his failed relationship to finding the woman that is currently his wife.

The day he proposed to her was the equivalent of an emotional paper cut. Any drop of hyperinflated ego I had left bled out. So much for thinking I was deeper, tighter, sweeter, higher, flyer.

2016: Nirvana.

Hubris free. Blown away, like the flame of a candle, with only my dimly lit confidence remaining after the gale.

Deliverance came in the form of an answer to a Twitter inquiry: "Do you believe in soulmates?"

I've always heard the 3 common answers: (1) No, (2) Yes - there is one person on Earth that is your soulmate, or (3) Yes - there is a group of people in the world that you could "make it work with," all being considered "soul mates" of sorts. The answer that stood out to me, however, was from  @Quintiya, a fellow Alcornite:

"I don't think your soulmate necessarily has to be anyone you're in a relationship with. It could be a best friend."

Never thought of it like that.

I mean... Maybe everything is exactly how it should be. Honestly, my best friend is more of a Kal-El than a T'Challa, anyway. (No need for a cape, Future Bae; I don't need saving.) We've established a perfect symbiotic relationship over the past 10+ years; one where we are able to constructively criticize each other and still build for the better from it. He's undoubtedly made me a better person, and I thank him for it.

2022 update: Fuck him, too, though.

*Fate be trippin

The Matrix

Take a moment to watch this video:

http://wfla.com/2016/06/08/girl-15-commits-suicide-after-friends-share-nude-snapchat-video/

I do not have children; I do have a niece and nephews....but seeing that mother give her account of events broke me internally. Unfortunately, Tovonna is not the first and will not be the last teenager that will take her life over cyberbullying. There are studies that attribute half of suicides among youth to bullying.

IN MY OPINION (had to say it in caps for the readers in the byke):

Social media has altered reality for our younger generations, particularly those born during or after 1990 and especially those born in 2000 and beyond.

My generational counterparts (I was born in '86) were pretty much the internet and social media pioneers. From chat rooms, to MySpace, BlackPlanet, HighSchoolClub, and the ground-breaking Facebook, we've been around long enough to see social media transform from an internet past-time for us into an almost necessity for our younger brothers/sisters/children/nieces/nephews/cousins.

That transformation from recreation to an activity of daily living is due to advancements in technology: going from iPods and Zunes and digital cameras and desktop computers with dial-up internet connection and the little AOL man slowly running across our full-body computer screen to our current handy-dandy iPhones and Android phones that do all of the above.

Now, with all of those multi-faceted outlets merged into one, convenient, pocket-sized (unless you have a Galaxy Note... Pretty confident you can play Twister on that thing) tool, each subsequent decade of teenagers have taken items once used to pass time and sewn it into the fabric of their lives.

Today's teenagers have the world at their fingertips. With instantaneous information at their disposal, they could be the smartest (and who am I say to say they aren't already or will not be) generation to have ever walked this Earth. HOWEVER........

They are also the most vain. They will do whatever it takes to get attention, solicit a laugh, or attain popularity from an UNSEEN INTERNET AUDIENCE. Self-esteem has given way to self perception that is dependent upon the number of likes on Instagram or retweets on Twitter; narcissism manifested by lip-syncing the hot song of the moment with a fully beat face; and feeling like a reality TV show star on Periscope or YouTube.

Not only that, they are unable to articulate themselves. All of their thoughts are noted in 140 characters or less. All of their conversations truncated into 8 second SnapChat videos.

That being said, I came across this tweet a few months ago that stemmed from an event unrelated to Tovonna's case:

It upset me because it is that deep for many of these kids now. Bullying has morphed into something totally different than it was for us growing up, but a lot of us refuse to believe it. I don't necessarily expect folks that grew up playing Duck Hunt to readily accept that....and certainly not the Pong and prior peoples.  The same way technology and media outlets have evolved, so have bullies.

A teenager seeking attention via social media + being a bully = a child willing to humiliate another child not just on the school ground, but online for the WORLD to see.

A teenager seeking attention via social media + receiving the "wrong" attention from internet bullies = a child that now feels ostracized/humiliated not only by the children around him/her, but (in his/her eyes) by the entire WORLD.

It is SO different now. Tovonna was unknowingly video taped by her "close-friend" who subsequently posted the video to SnapChat.... All to solicit a laugh, I'm sure.

These teenagers also use social media to vent their frustrations to the same unseen internet audience that they attempt to appease. It's most disturbing when the line is crossed from venting to doing the unthinkable. Recently, a French teenage woman (19) decided to broadcast her suicide live on Periscope (not due to cyberbullying, but possibly from an alleged rape). Prior to jumping in front of an on-coming train, she fielded questions from her internet audience, discussing her decision to end her life. It saddens me that she decided to take her life, but it's a scary precedent that may have been set for other teenagers (or adults) seeking to do the same.

How do we combat what has become a mainstay for these children? Denying them access to social media is arguably pointless because access is everywhere...or it will only make them go extra lengths to get on ...or generate disdain towards your refusal. Even if you keep an open line of communication with the child(ren) in your life, you can only hope it's effective.

How do we unplug millions of teenagers from this Matrix that exists?

"Happily Ever After..."

Disney fucked me up.

Well...not just Disney, but fairytales in general. They fucked up my generation.

Besides them teaching girls to look past the physical and accept a man for who he is - despite whatever he did to deserve his consequence (ex. Beauty & the Beast), and teaching boys that they will always get or deserve the pretty princess in the end, there is this matter of the "Happily Ever After..."

It's not that I believe a Happily Ever After is not achievable. What I do believe is that we have completely romanticized the idea of what it really consists of...

We have this notion that "Happily Ever After" is supposed to be our favorite meal and our favorite outfit with the love of our life and our perfect kids all living our perfect lives with Kanye's "Good Life" as the soundtrack day in and day out.

Nah, fam.

It's more like leftovers paired with these-are-the-only-clothes-I-have-that-have-been-washed plus I-guess-I'll-tolerate-this-asshole-for-a-little-while-longer with an infinite playlist of church songs or positive music playing in the background that kicks off with Hezekiah's "I Need You to Survive" or Kendrick's "It's Gone Be Alright."

Yeah.

That.

THAT is what "Happily Ever After" really is. It's being on the spectrum of alright. It does not mean that every day is perfect or happy. It means that we are in a place where we can appreciate the good things that DO occur, even if they seem to happen less often than they did at the apex of alright.

Yeah... 

That.

"Colorblind"

"I DON'T SEE COLOR" - self-proclaimed non-racist white person's proverb.

This phrase bothers me SO MUCH.
Maybe because it's an enigma. I don't understand how a person can not see color. Even the vast majority of medically colorblind people can distinguish between colors on a limited spectrum.

Although I believe most people that use the colorblind phrase say it from a "good" place - implying that they treat everyone the same - it really serves no benefit to anyone other than the on-looker to white-wash everyone. To not see color is to disregard the race/ethnicity of the people you interact with. How incredibly problematic. It translates to, "I can only respect wholly people that look like me."

Unfortunately, I only saw the world in black-and-white for a majority of my life. Growing up in rural Mississippi, I wasn't exposed to much ethnic diversity (socioeconomic, either, but another story for another day). My high school graduating class was almost exactly 50% white and 50% black, so maybe what bothers me is when I see some of the people from my hometown say this.

The kicker
We had black and white homecoming maids.
We had black and white class favorites. The ballots were divided in to white boys, white girls, black boys, black girls
Our proms were segregated.

They did not integrate prom at my high school until 2007.

No BS. This was really going on. I graduated in 2004. When I tell friends about my high school experiences, it sounds more like I graduated in 1964.

People were discussing the after effects of Jim Crow while we were still fucking living it! Amazing!

How could someone that I attended this high school with not see the clearly demarcated racial lines drawn between us?

Granted, I saw them then, but not as boldly as I do now. How could the school system allow such atrocities to take place unless they WANTED it. There were forces at work that my adolescent brain could not comprehend until now. I knew that it wasn't right, but it was our norm.

*aside: These "forces" are the reason I believe #JonathanSanders - an unarmed black man that was choked to death by a white police officer in my home county - will not recieve the justice he deserves. I encourage you to read his story*

We were being conditioned to see "Separate, But Equal" as okay. Everything back then was categorized:

"You're my best WHITE friend"

"He hoops pretty good for a WHITE boy"

"She's smart for a BLACK girl"

"BLACK guys don't dress like that"

etc.. 

Beyond thankful to get out and become slightly cultured. To this day, I still want to divide and categorize races, but now that I'm cognizant of it, I attempt to do a better job of not doing so.

The whole "I don't see color" thing makes me think of one line from the Charleston AME mass murderer's manifesto:

"Black people are racially aware almost from birth, but White people on average dont think about race in their daily lives...."

I actually agree. You're less inclined to be aware of something - in this case, race, if it does not negatively affect you or change how you approach certain situations (e.g. being pulled over by a police officer).

Do not choose to be unaware. Acknowledge that you can see race. Embrace what you see. Do not let it affect how you treat them. Maybe then, we can become a nation where people are truly judged by the content of their character and not the color of their skin.

I Only Date Superheroes! ....NOT: Mr. Good Shit

I am not a shallow person. I will at least entertain a guy that is not physically "my type."

*cue Mr. Good Shit*

Went to a bar one night during the NBA Finals to watch the game. A guy sat down next to me, ordered his drink, and asked me how the game was going.

"It's kinda fucked up." - me.

He laughed and proceeded with the "Get To Know You" questions: What's your name? Where are you from? What do you do? And so on...

He was in his early-30s (retracted several details) working towards his doctorate.

Nice.

Wasn't my type physically, but you know...don't judge a book.

We exchanged numbers before I left the bar. Went out a couple of times. Had a coffee shop discussion about the state of the world, our young black counterparts, personal histories, and such. 'Twas quite pleasant. *+1 for the ugly dudes*

The next time we went out was to celebrate an award he received in his program. Told him drinks were on me. 

Met at the restaurant. Everything was going well until he randomly interjected into the coversation, "It's been over 45 minutes, and you haven't cursed."

Me: "Oh....? You've been timing it?"

O, how pissed I was! Mostly because he should have stated that he disliked my use of profanity... Partially because when we first met, my first sentence to him included the past tense of "fuck," but he still decided to ask for my number. Out of respect, I would have made a valiant attempt to censor my language.

Whatever the case, I gave him a 5 minute grace period and then went THE. FUCK. IN.

After a few minutes of profanity laced dialogue from me, he made another snarky comment about my language. I ignored it and salvaged the remainder of time we spent together.

The check came...

Yes, I told him the drinks were on me before we went out that day. However, we had ordered food as well. So. The check sat between us for a few awkward moments... Not really certain how long it was. All I do remember is that this man did not make a move toward it at all. He did not acknowledge its presence. I don't think he even flinched.

Let it be known: I had no issues with picking up the check in its entirety. There is something unattractive, however, about a man not attempting to take the initiative to at least offer to cover his part.

I spared him, and paid the check. Closing ramblings followed, along with a departing hug, and a subsequent decline in contact after that date. Our regular conversations dissipated into highly infrequent "Hey, how are you?" texts from one party and a non-response from the other.

Then one day post a "Hey, how are you?" text, he hit me with the "Send me a pic" text. Busy at work that day, I looked down at my phone in mild confusion as to why he wanted a picture of me after all of the random bs we seemed to subject each other to (e.g. my profane language, his broke-ass tendencies). My debate on whether I should send him a picture or not was cut short by my work duties, which ultimately decided for me that this was not the appropriate time.

Two hours after I got off work, he texts me the ellipsis (...); in this case, it stood for "Whassup with that pic tho?"

I resolved to send him a pic from Facebook. We weren't FB friends. It was my profile pic, so obviously I thought I was cute in it.

This negro responds, "Keep going"

Okay... At this point I have confirmed my suspicions that he is hoping for a provocative photo. An intrepid negro, he was. I deflected and told him we could trade a pic for a pic. Seemed fair enough.

He sent me a pic.

The picture highlighted all of the things that made him physically unattractive to me. My eyes cringed.

To save face, I told him it was a nice picture (referring to the megapixels and overall picture quality), and I was sleepy and that we would have to continue another day. Here, "I'm sleepy" served as a euphemism for ".....eww." I just knew this was an acceptable cop-out. I was trying to be as cordial as possible.

BUT NO! This is the response I received:

"Stop playing. I know you got some good shit in yo phone."

*record scratch*

FIRST OF ALL^*

*universal foreward to "reading" a person; the overture to a song you do not want to be the subject of; I had to lean into the computer when I typed this because this section is dedicated to Mr. Good Shit

YOU DID NOT ACKNOWLEDGE THE FIRST PICTURE I SENT YOU. 
The picture I sent you was "good shit," and you failed to compliment or even comment on it. Matter-of-fucking-fact, if we have not had sex and/or are in a relationship, any picture I send you is a good fucking picture as far as you need to be concerned, Mr. Good Shit.
If I send you a picture in a baptismal robe, you need to tell me I look like an angel.
If I send you a picture of me in prison, you need to tell me I would make a cute inmate on OITNB.
If I send you a picture of me in the hospital with an IV in my arm, you need to tell me I look strong and that I'm going to pull through.

WAS THE PICTURE YOU SENT ME YOUR GOOD SHIT???
You shaped like a souffle.
You should be casted as Spongebob in the biopic of his life.
You look like you belong on a pottery wheel.
You look like a loaf of banana bread. Yeast face ass.
And you have the balls and the gall to tell me you know I have some good shit in my phone? Oh okay...
If that was your good shit, you didn't deserve the picture I sent you in the first place.


However, I KNOW I'm not the same venomous bitch I once was because I did not send any of that to him. I simply responded with:


Yes, I do. Good night.



Thank God for growth.
Part of me hopes he reads this blog post, though.

I Only Date Superheroes! ....NOT: The Narcissist (Entry 1)

Ran across this journal about a month ago with a picture of various male Marvel comic book characters centered between the words "I Only Date Superheroes." Being a lightweight comic book fan, I bought it. Then I had this great idea. I can use this journal to document all of the ridiculous encounters I have had with males over the years and rename my journal "I've Only Dated Superassholes!"

I won't blog all of my entries. This is a test-pilot of sorts, to see if my less than savory experiences will at least bring someone else joy.

Oh, and if I've dated you in the past....don't be shocked if you come across a story about you. On the bright side, no one knows I'm referring to you except for you! ;)

I'll spare you the prelude I wrote in my journal and delve directly into my first entry:

The Narcissist

He was tall, dark, and (by several other women's standards) handsome. I mean.....he was aight, I guess. 

His head was rather large. A physical attribute that is undoubtedly a foreshadowing for the single woman that exchanges contact information with him.

We only had one date. It wasn't really a date... More like we were just existing in a room together at the same time. If that's what you want to call a date.

He invited me to his place to watch a Lakers game. RED FLAG NUMBER ONE

Not so much that he invited me to his place for our first chance to truly exist in each other's presence. He was a freaking Lakers' fan! I knew then that this was not going to work.

Against better judgement and as an advocate of my own curiosity, I went anyway.

His house was a complete bachelor's pad. **retracted the details just in case some of yall wimmin have been invited to the house of this same foo**

He offered me Jack and Coke. Of course, I accepted. I would need liquor to get through watching a full Lakers game with a Lakers fan. Thank God and whatever secondary-deity that may or may not exist that I did. Ninety-eight point three percent of Lakers fans are obnoxious. This is a known fact. But this guy didn't piss me off by talking about how great and mighty his team Kobe was.

Ten minutes of unmemorable conversation had passed when he felt the need to show me a picture of him and his friends at an event they had the night before.

That's koo.

"Ya'll looked nice."

Then he showed me again. 

And again.

And more times.

Each subsequent time, he had cropped out one of his friends on each side until only he remained, standing in the middle of all of his glory looking exactly. the fucking. same. as he did the first time he showed me. 

I had never been so annoyed in my life.

Around "Look at this pic now," number 5, I was fiending* to watch the game.
*http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=fiending 

Yup. 

Me.

The anti-Laker. Wanted to actually watch the game without having to gaze upon a picture of this muthafucka every 37 seconds.

Oh yea...important fact. There were 10 total people in the picture, at first. And I had to look at each freshly cropped photo.

I stuck it out to the end because back then I was polite (stupid) and figured I wouldn't have to deal with it anymore after he fully gratified himself by being The Uncroppable.

Wrong.

After mutilating that group picture pixel-by-pixel, he apparently became comfortable enough to show me EVEN MORE pictures of himself. I could not take it anymore.

"If you show me one more picture of yourself, I am going to beat your ass. I told you that you looked nice the first time. And again. And again. You look exactly the same! Shit..."

Unlady-like, but effective.

We managed to transition back into more unmemorable conversation after that, and I left with no intentions of ever returning. As I look back on that night, I can only thank God that it was during the pre-selfie era.

Thank you, God.

Black Women Can't Take a Compliment

My title stems from a response to a question posed on Facebook about why it seems like white men and men of other races do not approach black women.
Mind you, all of the responses were from black people either spitting second-hand info on why these men do not approach black women or making assumptions about what these non-black men think. Soooo.....nothing was accomplished.

In a moment of clarity, I realized I hadn't known how to accept a compliment at face value until within the past year or two. And now to ineffectively segue into something completely different than what you inferred this blog would be about:

It would be more appropriate to say I didn't know how to internalize compliments rather than I didn't know how to accept them. (IMO, this is an issue common to women in general.....not solely black women) Accepting the compliment was actually the simple part:

"Thanks! :)"

Afterwards was always weird tho. I'd spend the next few minutes attempting to decipher the nature of the compliment instead of going on with my damn life.

• "Was he/she serious?"
• "What motivated him/her to say it?"
• "Does he like me because he said it?"
• "Was he/she saying it to be funny?"...and a hunnit more questions.

I've probably spent a collective year or two analyzing dumb shit. Too bad they don't award an Associate of Science in Analytical Dumb Shit.

My tendency to over-analyze sometimes attests to my insecurities.
Life experiences breed insecurities.

Growing up as super ultimate tomboy of the world, I gave nil fucks about how I looked. In high school, I started to care a little. Not enough to dress a certain way to fish for those compliments, though. I didn't require them...not as far as looks were concerned, anyway. Being the "pretty girl" wasn't a part of my social identity. I was the token tomboy/nerd at the cool table. I was mommy's future doctor - not her future model. Getting complimented on grades or some sports achievement was all I ever needed.

There are a few different instances that reiterated my role at school was not being the pretty one. I shall spare the details because it sounds a whole helluva lot more depressing saying it out loud than how I perceived it when it happened.

To transition from being thought of by others in that specific mindset to being referred to as some synonym of pretty was quite fucking weird. There would be an "Oh. Okay." moment.

I was especially taken aback when my best male friend who isn't good enough of a friend to CALL anymore labeled me as "sexy" for the first time.

• "Was he serious?"
• "What prompted him to say that?"
• "Is he being funny?"

This was brand new to me. That wasn't how I visualized myself. So hell yea, I had qualms about the statement.

If I wasn't already confused about my perception of myself as well as others perception of me (re-worded: as if I wasn't already lacking confidence), let's throw in the non-compliment of ALL compliments:

"You're cute to be dark-skinned."

Fuck you.

And my other favorite:

"I like your gap. It's cute."

That shit makes me want to make an appointment to Invisalign the fuck outta my teeth tomorrow. Even if the guy is being adamant... I still feel that way.

Though my self-growth was stunted for a while, I went on this self-discovery trip and figured out how to be confident despite my aesthetic - and internal - flaws. It was fucking awesome.

Stop digging for answers to compliments. They're not questions. It's someone acknowledging that they like what they see. 

Nothing more. Nothing less. 

(But fuck that "I like your gap" shit.)

There's nothing more therapeutic than sharing my insecurities with the world wide web. Be blessed!

The Butterfly Effect

Doing this from my phone so please excuse any grammatical errors in advance.

I've come to the conclusion that most negro males undergo a spontaneous metamorphosis from ho-nigga* to husband.
*ho-nigga: lowest form of eukaryotic organisms; an egregiously promiscuous male

There is no trigger (hence the word "spontaneous"). There is no "Aha!" moment. And I apologize, but you women that are convinced your man "changed for me" are WRONG. You may have been present DURING his evolution, but I promise you many-a-good-bitches went through the struggle before your man got to where he is today.

The ho-nigga goes along, performing his day to day ho-nigga activities. He can be found at your local bar/club - his natural habitat - or even at church. He is generally a nocturnal creature that thrives on "pulling bitches."

The more advanced ho-niggas are those that "look good on paper." He has a decent job, a vehicle, an apartment or house, a degree, good hygeine, and other things that look good on a relationship resumé. He has mastered the art of making each of his female friends feel special, to the point where they begin to develop feelings for the ho-nigga and even have thoughts that the better they treat the ho-nigga, the more likely they are to be promoted to being in a real relationship with him.

Quite the contrary! The ho-nigga uses these misconstrued feelings to his advantage. He is able to elicit different things from each of his different females - whether it be fellatio or fitted caps. On average, the ho-nigga fucks over at least 13 good, high-quality women before his metamorphosis occurs.

Then one day, the ho-nigga awakens and says, "Fuck all this shit. I'ma do right by the next female I meet."

And voilá. Magic.

Greek Daze

It's time to enlighten the wannabes on why it is NOT appropriate to proclaim the Black Greek Letter Organization they are GOING to join.

Too often for comfort, I see retweets of chaps (various ages) on Twitta that read, "I'm going to pledge (insert BGLO here)!" followed by slews of angry, verbal torch carrying members of BGLOs Chris Browning the fuck out of that poor chap's mentions.

It makes me feel some type of way.

Age plays a big part in who I think deserves blame. For those children 16 and under, I blame the adult BGLO member(s) in their lives. For those older - particularly those in college - I blame THEM. At that point, they are toofuckingold NOT to know.

Disclosure/discretion:

Believe it or not, there is a legit reason greeks become irate about people publicly saying "I am GOING to be apart of your org."

1. It's haughty to state your future entrance into something that you have to be CHOSEN and seen fit to become a member. There are (let me rephrase...SHOULD be) criteria to meet before joining. At the minimum, there is a GPA requirement, and prospects should be able to bring something to the table to uphold or better the chapter.
Looking at the quantity some of these lines.......some national boards make me wonder if they give a damn about a person's character versus his/her bank account. Fitting segue into numero dos.

2. Let's talk money. Membership is NOT cheap. Many prospects have to scrap to collect the amount necessary to cover membership fees (not to mention other miscellaneous costs, e.g. outfits, shoes). It humbles a muhfucka when they have to wait 3 years to join an organization because they did not have the finances to do it the first time around.

3. There is a PROCESS to undergo. Prospective members spend a significant amount of time learning history of the organization and participating in brother/sister hood building activities. This is time that could very well be spent doing other things. It's a sacrifice.


THE BLAME GAME:

As stated earlier, I blame old heads. Greeks with children, god-children, nieces, nephews, and so on get a kick out of the child repping their org. That's fine...to a point.

It's cute letting your baby set owt your org when they're 7, but don't be surprised when they do the shit for so long that they act like they been crossed the sands when they turn 17*. 
*Fuck yo' legacy

Same thing with auxiliary orgs. Not all, but some BGLO members over auxiliary groups have those children feeling like stepping/party-hopping is the crux of greek life, and being the best stepper in their high school group is going to grant them easy access into the organization.

HELL NO. 

Don't get me wrong. I said I was going to be apart of my org EVERY DAY from the day Spr. 05 probated until I crossed...
In the mirror...
To myself.

Simply out of respect.

But hey....that's just me.

Batman Flow - per @MFWC1981

Listen baby, I'm your man and I love you. Ever since the first time we met I realized that we were meant to be together because I felt emotions around you I’ve NEVER felt around ANY woman at ANY time before. You are the first woman who made me consider how pointless my non-committal lifestyle was, but even more, you are the first woman who made me forget all my past heartbreaks and realize that I still wanted to feel what love is. You’ll never understand how hard it is for me to not feel your lips before I go to sleep and as I wake up – that kiss is the most sensual expression of my emotions but when the sex switch is flipped:

I just HAVE to beat that pussy up.

The sex switch is flipped just after we lock lips with closed eyes and we press them together softly yet firm enough to know we both meant that shit. The switch flips in both of our minds when we realize that neither of us is gonna pull away and it’s just at that moment that our brains realize we ain’t JUST kissing tonight, and our tongues instinctively find one another and we engulf each other in passion. Once that switch is flipped, my left hand is gonna go from gently cradling the back of your neck to firmly gripping the back of your head, and my right hand is gonna glide down the middle of your back and land right on your ass. You are gonna feel me gripping it hard because that’s MY way of letting you know:

Your ass is mine tonight.

Once that sex switch is flipped though, please understand you are not my beautiful, loving woman anymore – you're the sexiest person I've ever met and I’m bout to beat the brakes off that pussy. Once I flip that switch all I want to do is make you cum – all over. I want to feel your entire body shake as you scream cuss words I never even knew you knew. I want you so wet that you soak the entire bed. I want you to grit your teeth and cuss me out:

Every time you have another multiple.

I want you sweaty and horny but more than anything I flip the switch because I want you NASTY. All day we parade around under a veil of politeness and socially correct behavior. But once I'm alone with the one I love, I don’t want to be polite and nice anymore. I want to feel free - and nothing is more free than getting butt-ass-naked and FUCKING you in ways your pussy wasn’t even prepared for. I’m gonna start slow and deep, speed it up a little as I beat it up a little:

I want us to cum together – all over each other and fall down on the bed drenched in sweat.

Then I want to roll over, look you in the eyes, turn the sex switch off and lock lips softly with you again. My woman. The one I love. But the second you look up at me with even the slightest amount of lust in your eyes:

I’m turning the switch back on and I'm coming for your ass...

Champ
Cruisin' Thru Decatur

East-Side Tales - per @MFWC1981

I want to begin by thanking Danesha (@EDIBLU for you niggas on twitta) for this opportunity. I'm too damn lazy to start my own blog so I figured I'd leech off of hers and Pooh is doing what she does right now so I've got some extra time on my hands until she gets back. Oh, I'm  also too lazy to think up titles so I'm gonna use random B.o.B songs instead until I run out. I love reppin' the homies (In my Chris Rock voice).

I guess this is the part where I need to warn people that I have no filter. 
SO READER(s) BEWARE! 

So me and a mixed group of friends were having a discussion about cheating and reconciling, and we all came to the very obvious conclusion that men have a much harder time getting back into a relationship with a woman who has cheated on them, than women getting back with men who cheated. We floated many different theories around until my boy decided to shut the conversation down with a sentence straight from real-talk.com. He said:

“Let’s keep it real people, no dude wants to take a woman back that he THINKS was fucked by a nigga BIGGER & BETTER than him.”

He continued “The thought of some dude writing his name on parts of her pussy walls that you can’t even reach to erase is demoralizing as shit. Y’all gonna be sitting around 50 years from now in some nursing home, and she still gonna have to take pills every day it rains, because some nigga collapsed her womb decades ago...

Who wants that shit?"

We all paused to let the realness wash over us and to accept how truly pathetic yet accurate that statement was. From a man’s perspective I hate to admit that our ego’s are so entangled in something as insignificant as size and sexual performance but I realized that it’s not that far of a jump. Men WILL tie their self-worth in a relationship to how satisfied they believe their partner is in the bed, so it’s NOT a monumental stretch. But are men so insecure of said performance to let it be the determining factor in taking someone back?

Yep. We are.

Let’s be honest about something else while we are at it: A woman's disgust upon hearing her man cheated is about 40% due to the physical act, but 60% is about the distrust, disrespect and total disregard for the emotional and spiritual bond they are suppose to have as a fully committed couple. And very rarely do women think about the physical act in terms of “Damn did she deep throat him when I can only get half-way, and did she squirt for him when my 'tang is usually dryer than Tracey Morgan’s bottom lip?” She usually thinks:

"I need to get my ass to the clinic because if him and this dirty little heffa gave me something, I'ma KILL this nigga!”

But because the majority of her pain is emotional and psychological, she can find herself forgiving him through time and eventually taking him back because as her emotions swing back and forth, so does the balance of their relationship. With a man, it couldn’t be any more different because we INTERTWINE our emotions with the physical act itself. There ain’t no 40 or 60% with a man, it’s just 100:

"So this bitch just gonna let this nigga run up in her like that? FUCK HER!” *Sniffles with a quivering upper lip*

This is the same reason most men can’t handle a TRUE open relationship. We love the concept as it relates to how open WE can be, but a man’s ego will NOT allow him to handle the thought of his woman getting her walls stretched outta shape by some other dude. As insecure and ridiculous as it is, It’s understandable that a guy wouldn’t want to be looked at like the Cayman Islands Earthquake after the Haiti one.

Champ
Cruisin' Thru Decatur

Every Good Man

I have several friends that come to me for relationship/end-of-relationship advice. Haven't quite figured out why, yet.

Somehow they all find me for end-of-relationship advice right around their depression stage of grief. In an effort to provide quality advice, I try to assess my friend's situation as well as his/her mindset...

These are my stories. *insert Law & Order sound clip here*

So many times, it seemed the reason the woman had trouble moving forward after a breakup (pending she is the breakup-ee) is because she saw the "potential" this man had or because this man was simply 

...a good man.

Welp ladies, 

every good man is not for every good woman 

and vice versa. It's an obvious and OVERLOOKED fact of life.

WHAT IN THE GOOD FUCK CONSTITUTES A "GOOD MAN/WOMAN" ANYWAY????

serious question. answer it.

project: ask a few female and male friends to list what makes a person look good on paper. even better, ask them to prioritize the list and then look at the drastic differences between sexes 

People say "good man/woman" as if these terms have universal definitions. 

They don't. It's based on your personal beliefs.

Even if this person you seek as a potential mate fits all of your criteria, there's the realistic chance of this person not fitting in your life.

Examples

You're celibate. Is he still considered a good man once you realize he's trying to wine & dine them draws off? (I mean seriously...what man doesn't have that as his ultimate goal?)

Aside: I've never been the type to say "niggas* ain't shit." But I'll tell anyone that most niggas' intentions aren't shit. In the nigga's defense, he typically only gets away with whatever you allow him to. 
*In this text, nigga is being used as a term for men in general...not all, just most.

You've experienced being cheated on before. Is he still considered a good man if he says he considers infidelity "the norm?"

You yearn for emotional connectedness (i.g. you're needy as hell). Is he still considered a good man if he's apathetic or is non-responsive towards your emotional needs? 

The answer is SURE! He can still be a good dude. Just not the good guy for you. 

Look at your resume of a good mate. If you're considered "good" by your own standards, then why waste time seeking the attention of one?

Don't get me wrong. I understand emotional attachments can be strong n shit. And I know what it's like to feel like options are limited as an educated, black woman. But it's just not worth it to pursue a man that doesn't complement you.

Men:
Everything stated above was as pertinent to you as it was to the women. However, I have two issues in particular with men:

Hubris
I have no idea WHY some negroes feel that they are the BEST MAN the woman they just broke up with ever had, will ever have, or can dream up.

Naw, cuh.

To pride yourself on being a good man is GREAT! - but there is a fine line between confidence and arrogance. Sit yo'ass down thinking that you are the only man with your "credentials."

If you look at my resume, I am THE SHIT as far as I'm concerned. And I'm single as an and-one free throw.

The Blame Game
Other negroes will apply sole blame to the female for the relationship's demise. It humors me when my male friends say, "Her (insert character flaw here) is why she can't keep a man," about their exes. Umm....but you're single, too, homie.
Apparently, you can't keep a woman.

I honestly think some of you believe you're LESS single than your ex.


Yall in the same damn boat...
...or am I missing sumn?




Final thoughts: Don't waste energy on a "good" ex...especially if they aren't wasting theirs on you.
Be blessed!

Baby Pre-Req: Marriage or Money?

Question
What's really more important before deciding to bring a child into the world - being married or financially stable???

Think on it before you proceed.





Still thinking?





Now, why did you choose that answer over the other?





Done yet?





Okay.....my turn.



I want to yell "FINANCIALLY STABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" from the mountain tops, buuuuuttt.....I have reasons to think marriage would be more important as well.

Honestly....I must have some Gemini in me the way I split views on everything. CANCER FOR LIFE!!!!!! 69

MARRIAGE
I certainly see myself being married before I have a child. I consider myself Christian, so per my beliefs I should be married before procreating the good old fashioned way. However, if I lived as I should per my beliefs, I'd be a completely different person. I try to walk the straight and narrow, but it's more like I'm walking on a turnpike. Anyway, enough of my spiritual struggles. I could write a book on those.

I was raised in a two-parent home with loving, married parents (loving towards us anyway....as far as each other...it just depended on the day. Haha) It's a beautiful thing to have love coming from both parents. They weren't balling at all, but my sisters and I still had all of the essentials and a little more. However, it came at a price. All of us - parents and children - had to sacrifice different things occasionally because it was best for the whole.
Not knocking having to sacrifice at all.... Lessons were learned. Humility was taught. I turned out awesome. 

I'd just rather not go through those times from the mirrored side if I don't have to. #AndThenIKanyeShrug


MONEY
All the love in the world ain't buying diapers, formula, clothes, food, rent, etc... Romanticizing that "Just-the-two-of-us" feeling into thinking that we can get through anything is sweet n'shyt, but uh...I'd rather get through without the financial problems, at least.
Gotta backtrack for a second: I'm not saying I need to be RICH before having a child. I said FINANCIALLY STABLE. And what's financially stable to one person may be questionable to the next. It's SUBJECTIVE. My loose definition of financially stable would be to have at least a 3-month rainy day fund built up, a comfortable amount in savings, and a secure job/career that is constantly feeding my checking account before I bring a life into this world. (Not to mention having a house that I'm making steady payments on along with a dependable vehicle.) And yes...I know nothing is guaranteed to be a particular way forever. Anything could occur and wipe out all of my savings....but at least I tried!


THE BS HAPPY MEDIUM I COME UP WITH AT THE END TO LET YOU KNOW YOUR OPPOSING VIEW DOESN'T COMPLETELY SUCK

I think the key words in the question are "deciding" and "stable." 

• In this day and age, half (or more) pregnancies are unplanned. It's gotta be difficult to say what's more important once you see that plus sign on the stick.

• Stability is based on personal beliefs. Some people find stability in marriage. Others find stability in money. As long as you're stable somewhere is what's really important, I suppose.

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!