Don't get it, never will..Simple Suggestions On How Not To Date..

It wasn't until I was 26 that I found myself single.  Seven years behind bars had left me a little out of practice--well without any real practice.  I had to re-learn how to talk to men, study the most recent rules of dating, and flex my dating muscles (so to speak).  I went to bars with friends to pass the time away and fend off pangs of loneliness.  One night, sitting at the Triple L, in walks #42.  He was dirty and layered in heavy clothes with rough hands.  Construction, not bad.  He smiled at me--perfect white teeth.  Even better.  We talked and exchanged numbers quickly.  We talked some more--we had a lot in common.  He was recently single as well.  He was cute, a little too short, but a big buy nonetheless.  I figured my first time back in the game, I didn't need to be picky about whose team I was on.  Rebounds in the dating game are temporary, ,but still a necessary game winning statistic.  Paus...

In light of recent events, discoveries, and realizations, I had to make this special post.  I have zero tolerance for homie hoppers!  Let's start with a definition. A homie hopper is a male (or female) who sleeps with more than one person in your crew or clique.  (A clique is defined as the people of the same sex that you hang out with on a regular basis.) Now that we are on the same page, let's talk about how despicable this act is.  I hang out with the same people on a weekly basis.  We all have our own friends and friends of friends, but we still get together on a regular to have some drinks and cause trouble out here in the world.  It's common knowledge who these people are and how close we are affiliated.  If you're sleeping with me, you can't be trying to sleep with one of the clique too!  And if you've slept with one of the crew members, the rest of the crew is off limits. Pause:  There are extenuating circumstances, well cir...

You ever date a guy and realize that he has a vagina? This is a story about #75 and how he lost to #76. I like two things out here in the world: poetry and poets.  The poetry circle in this city is VERY small.  Two or three different poetry events and you pretty much have run into everyone worth seeing in the city.  I actually met #75 on the Book (Facebook) after some poetry event in the city.  He seemed nice enough, but niceness really wasn't what I was interested in at the time.  He was an erotic poet.  Jackpot right?  I was looking for something a little freaky and thought that he was living through his poetry.  Pause:  For anyone else who dates poets, it's is important to find from where the motivation for their poetry comes.  Mine for instance comes mostly from real life situations, but i try to put a vague spin to give a double meaning.   #75's motivation comes from his damn imag...

In the true essence of Cuffin Season, one is supposed to find one person, ONE, with whom they intend on spending the season.  That was my intention as well......until I realized that I'm not about that life, plus I have a blog to write. So instead, I have assembled a team (basketball season is upon us after all).  I would like to introduce The Starting Five.  Pause:  These gentlemen are introduced in no particular order.  Just like on a basketball team, they all play a certain position with individual roles and responsibilities.  It may sound cocky--in a sense, it is.  It's meant to sound slightly conceited, and to make sure that everyone on the team is on their A-game.  I have no problem making a trade.  I'm not ugly; why not exercise my options?  Every single and dating person exercises their options; if they don't, they're not truly single.  #84.  Newly drafted, putting up good numbers and making his presence known o...

(The title of this one should be how I failed at being a cougar). This is a story about #16. I worked at Meijer for about 7 years.  I was a service coordinator which basically meant that I got to stand in the front of the store and look cute.  Perfect job for me.  In a way, I was the boss.  #16 started out as a "bagger," a teenager outside pushing carts.  I was well into my 20's--mid to late 20's.  I quit that job and some time passed.  I went into the store and there, behind the meat counter, was #16, still looking adorable and boyish.  Let me do the math really quick in my head.  He had to be about 18 or 19 now.  We flirted--we always had.  I asked him for his digits, I may have even actually said digits.  Cougar move "A" was successful.  We started going out--breakfast here and there.  We would chill at my place or do something mundane.  I laid out some charm (I can be charming if I try).  He was ...

I like to think of myself as an equal opportunity employer actively accepting applications for an unfilled position.  All can apply, even the white boys.  This makes 75% of my black friends crazy. Pause:  Crazy with curiosity, I think.  They always ask if it's really pink, like on the pornos.  Yes, yes it is. They turn their faces upside down and ask me how I could possibly be attracted to a white dude.  My response, "Well I really think it's the same except the white dudes worship the ground I walk on, respect me, pay for everything, have better jobs, better credit, and give great head." (I like to throw that last part in for shits and giggles.  I have, however, found it to be mostly true in my experience.  Some of them have numbers too--don't worry, I'm getting there). I went to a predominantly white high school (there were about 500 in my graduating class--8 of us were black).  I love white people--I'm used to them.  ...

Special post (in light of recent events).  I despise giving out current information about myself.  The last thing that I need is a reader taking something off of the "Janel cheat sheet" and using it against me.  It can be dangerous for all parties involved.  For some topics, however, I will make an exception.  Let's get dangerous (in my Dark Wing Duck voice).  I do not like "cookie cutter" sex, vanilla sex if you will.  Pause:  I'm not a freak, at least I won't claim it.  But I do like sex to be exciting, I have a lot of energy to burn.  Let's go over some basic requirements: Hair:  I expect it to be pulled!  Ok, so it sound a little freaky, but a little pain and pleasure go hand in hand.  Some girls like to be whipped, flogged, choked, and some enjoy a little smacking, and I am down for all of that too.  The hair must be pulled though.  Head:  It's 2012, and people still aren't giving head out t...

People should stick to what they do best, especially in relationships.  If you cook the best, do it so you don't have to eat your partner's nasty ass food.  If you clean the best, do it.  You're going to have to do it anyways.  So on and so forth.  I was dating a guy (I said that like it's new information), #76.   He was great at dates.  I like to go places with him so much so that I wanted to be his "go-to" automatic date.  His response was, "Sometimes, I like to go places by myself, ya know, single guy out there in the world."  Well silly me, you asshole.  Pause:  That answer was totally unacceptable to me. I pondered it though, and I decided he might be on to something.  Really, I said to myself, "Two can play that game you bastard!" Going out single as an attractive female is different than going out as a single male.  Women expect the man to approach them, and the men get to choose who...

In light of my recent dating extravaganza and the up and coming close of the Cuffin Season opener, I would like to share some advice with the gentlemen out there (I hope that there are gentlemen that read my blog).  This advice is geared toward the younger men, but it applies to all.  I can tolerate a lot--except stupidity I like to talk, well most women like to talk.  I like to talk more than the average individual (if #76 is reading, he just rolled his eyes), about nothing and everything all at the same time.  Intelligent conversation with a certain amount of passion.  But I will no longer hold conversation with anyone about weed and hip hop.  I WILL talk about sports, but I expect a man a to know about sports of some sort.  So you mean to tell me that you spent at least 12 years in school, and you didn't like any part of it?  The weather?  Politics?  Religion?  I don't care if we talk about the graphics and controls of 2K13...

I usually write my blogs days ahead of time.  In honor of the special time of the season is this special post. This post is especially for my married white friends who have no idea what I'm talking about most of the time. It's October and officially cuffin season.  Oh, you don't know what cuffin season is?  Well let me enlighten you.  Cuffin season refers to the colder months of the year when its more convenient to have a steady "adult relationship" instead of being single.  Cuffin someone is like having a relationship lite.  It's the relationship purgatory that happens around this time of the year.  I mean think about it; who wants to be out when it's cold trying to talk to someone in the parking lot.  No walks or long conversations outside in the sun--some are at a disadvantage.  Most people want to hibernate (I know I do) in the winter, and the goal is to find someone whom you trust enough to spend the season. It's tradition. It's log...

I have had several men tell me that they love me.  My common response is, "Thanks!" This is a story about #33 I met #33 in about 2004.  He was forgettable.  I was in a relationship with #29 at the time.  He struck me as kind of a kid, barely a teenager.  He was tall and skinny--I wasn't impressed.  He was eager though (I like them a little eager). I met him again at Chipotle in 2009.  Still tall, still skinny, still eager.  I flirted, then he got my phone number.  We dated for about 4 months before he dropped the bomb (bomb #1), "I think I'm falling in love with you." Oh really? Well let me help you out there Bro--I'm gone.  Can't fall in love with a figment of your imagination.  Pause:  I'm not insensitive guys.  No, really, contrary to popular belief.  It's just that  I didn't believe him.  He worshipped me, ALL parts of me.  He was sweet.  He thought I was beautiful--he had a "type...

What the hell does that mean anyways? Are the ugly more plausibly single? I hear this all the time.  I hear it from the old people at work, especially the ladies trying to hook me up with their sons or grandsons.  Do you know how many nephews and great nephews, etc. I have been introduced to?  What is wrong with these people?  I can't possibly look good in scrubs, they're not flattering.  I hear it from the men that hit on me (this is a common line used to test the waters).  "You have got to be taken."  Really?  Why is that?  Because I'm cute? Pause:   I feel like I need to prove myself to those who may not know me personally.  I am not ugly!  Solid 8 on a 10 scale, maybe a 9 on a good day.  Well don't just take my word for it.        I wouldn't lie to you.    This whole "too pretty to be single" thing drives me crazy.  People often look at me dumbfounded when ...

I told y'all that I don't discriminate, right? This is a story about #58. The around the way guy, the local weed man.  Don't look at me funny.  I don't have to go into details.  He was gorgeous.  Tall, lean, tone, and black as tar.  He looked like a sexy male model, not really my type, but very, very do-able.  We knew each other for a while, maybe 2 or 3 years before it ever dawned on me that he was attracted to me.  I honestly believe that it had just dawned on him that he was attracted to me.  He struck me a sort of a "fat ass" man; I don't fit the description.  Anyways, after 2 or 3 years of popping up, stopping by, and eating my damn food, he started to tug at my pants when I would walk by or play in my hair when he sat next to me.  Oh, he wanted it. I stopped and evaluated the situation.  I had to admit that I didn't know much about him, wasn't even sure I knew his real name.  I didn't know where he live...

This is the story about #4. Those who know me best know that I fell in love for the first time when I was about 14.  I didn't know anything about myself yet, so I fell in love based on appearance and "gut feelings." His cousin (nice body), #3, was the one who actually got my number.  What?! Closed mouths don't get fed.  It ended pretty quickly (you ever notice how most relationships end before pivotal days like birthdays or Valentine's Day?  Men are assholes, strategic assholes).  So I spent the next 13 years of my life being head over heels in love with this man.  I always appreciated the fact that he never took advantage of my weakness for him.  It was pure, innocent and real.  As I got older and in relationships and those relationships became more complex, I thought I was holding on to a pleasant memory skewed by time.  Until I saw him again.  In fact, every time I see him, my stomach drops and my mouth goes dry.  He...

This is your chance to show your creativity gentlemen; don't blow it! This is one of my favorite topics! As ladies, we dismiss these lines as mere whimsy.  Roll our eyes at the corny one-liners.  I, however, admire the recent surge of creativity.  I gag a little when I hear the usual ones: "Hey Ma, where your man at?" Annoying and grammatically incorrect.  Moving on. "Hey Boo, I'm going home with you tonight."  Umm no you're not.  "Damn, Slim! You sexy!"  You barely formed a sentence.  Boy bye.  I like it when they call me Slim, but WHERE'S THE ORIGINALITY?! I once had an older guy ask me if I was a gospel singer--GENIUS!  Think about it.  It's absurd enough to make me laugh (I get them with my killer smile), and inquisitive enough for me to actually answer.  Conversation starter.  Men, you really can't go wrong if you call her beautiful.  Even if she's not interested, she'll at least smile.  So...

I got into this heated discussion about this very important topic with #29 about 6 months ago.  My side of the argument: Single adults need to have relationships with other adult individuals, preferably also single.  Not necessarily a romantic relationship, just a companion.  Someone with which to spend some time and talk.   Someone to share some part of your world or a common interest.  The definition of these relationships will be defined by the individual.  For some, this will be a sexual relationship defined by kinky meeting and pretty underwear.  For others, this will be a regular meeting place written in pen in the date book, a weekly matinee, a new restaurant every time.  For others still, it's an exchange of emails and an occasional drink when busy lives cross (I should have been a lawyer, this is an excellent opening argument).  I continued: This is the best way to stay out of complicated relat...

Let's throw some numbers around.  I would like to start with #24.   Not because he was particularly memorable or etched his name on a corner of my heart.  He, in fact, failed at most attempts to gain my affection or attention.  I want to talk about #24 because he's safe like a gay guy.  Because he's still around.  Because he's my friend and still offers me some comedic relief.  I have been laughing at #24 for years. I met him on the internet.  Pause:  Before everyone starts turning their face upside down, let me set the record straight.  Meeting someone on the internet just sort of happens sometimes.  Groups, blogs, facebook, twitter, etc. lead to common interests, leads to the exchange of phone numbers, leads to dates.  That's how it happens for everyone, right? #24 and I started conversing about music first.  He had some equipment and some editing software on his computer.  He had me right there-...

I feel like I should give you some background information, (Shout out in my next blog to the person that can remember the teacher in 8th grade at Frank Ohl Middle School who wouldn't let you say "like" or "um" in his class) there's a reason that I am the way that I am today.  There's a reason for everything.  For as long as I can remember, until recently, I haven't really been single.  I don't like being single!! It's stressful!! I have to look good ALL the time, because that one time I leave the house in sweat pants and an extra large t-shirt (probably originally belonging to a guy), the man of my dreams will pass me by because I look like a tattered, brown gremlin.  I have to smile a lot.  I have to be friendly.  I have to be charming.  It's all an act guys--I'm an asshole.  No, really.......ask my friends.  Many of my relationships end if they really believe that I'm always nice and pretty everywhere I go.  Ugh no... B...

No really, how the hell do I begin to tell people that I know how much of a failure that I am?  Just traditionally, you know, in the eyes of society.  I feel like I'm in a constant state of winning, but I have to admit that I am baffled by the opposite sex. I feel like I should stop and give you a couple of disclaimers.  Those who know me best, know that I am the sweetest, nicest, goofiest and most laid back person that has ever lived, in a way.  I am very sarcastic.  I am a little abrupt.  My filter doesn't always work like it's supposed to.  I am a realist, extremely optimistic, and a tad wistful.  I curse.  I am pretty racist--not in a discriminatory way. (Lord knows I don't discriminate!)  But, I am well aware of differences.  I laugh inappropriately.  These are some of my best qualities guys.  Ok, so dilemna..... I can't get a man.  Don't scoff, I'm not a gremlin--not a supermodel. (I like to think mor...