Memoirs Of A Dater

I caught herpes from my boyfriend of 3 years. I told one of my friends and she keeps pestering me to leave him but I feel like no one else is going to want to date me with this thing anyway, so it doesn't matter. Should I leave or give him another chance? - Anonymous question via Formspring

Erm, is that a trick question? I think the bigger issue is your self-esteem versus your STD, since I can't understand why you'd want to stay in a relationship with a guy who's obviously cheating on you and also putting your life at risk. You've been given a second chance (it could've been worse), please don't waste it on him.


Self esteem aside, I had a similar question a few years ago from a guy who'd found out that the girl he was dating had herpes. From his email, he sounded like he really was considering staying with her, so you shouldn't let the fear of "no one else wanting you" to be the reason you stay with this dude.

You may not be able to completely cure your herpes, but you can at least get rid of this one, nasty blister.

I like to go out, have dinner, have a cocktail (or two or three), and dance my ass off. The boyfriend? Eh, not so much. He doesn't drink alcohol and he eats only when he's hungry; trendy new restaurants are lost on him. And there have been quite a few occasions where we've been out to the club and he's passed out sleeping in some corner. Yeah, I know. MY boyfriend. Almost couldn't show my face in this town after that.

But somehow we manage to make it work. I started just leaving him at home, which he seemed to be perfectly fine with. Yet I've been careful not to push the boundaries too much...til recently when I attempted the true test of our relationship: going to a hardcore reggae party without him.

I love my people, but Jamaican men in a party can be very grabby. And the fact that I have locks means that every bongo dread in a 50-mile radius thinks that I'm "down" and wants to lock onto me all night. (I never get the cool, funky looking dreads even though I'm a cool, funky dread myself. *pops collar* It's always the old ones, usually missing a couple teeth and heavy weed smokers that love me.)

I should've learned my lesson from my solo trip to the Bahamas. But apparently I'm a glutton for punishment. So I went back on another vacation...by myself.

The first night, I got into the elevator with a Jamaican man and his daughter. His significant other was in the lobby; I guess she had left something in their room. The minute the elevator door closed, he went at it. First a compliment, which I accepted. Then another, which I accepted.

Then, "Mi woulda like fi get fi know yuh, enuh." I dismissed him, thankful that we had reached his floor. Instead of leaving f the elevator, dude had the nerve, the unmitigated gall even, to ask if he could come up. Erm, up where? We know each other?! I couldn't get out the word "No" fast enough. And each "no" kept getting louder and louder (I think I was on the verge of hysterics) until he finally left, embarassed. Did I mention he was with his kid?! And his woman was a few floors below us?!

But that, my dear friends, was only the tip of the iceberg. The following evening, I sat by the bar making conversation with a tourist who was also by himself. We chatted about current events, about the government taxing alcohol, Dudus, tourist harassment and few other odds 'n ends.

I guess my knowledge on Jamaican current events and my accent made him think I was living in Jamaica. And apparently young, beautiful women who live in Jamaica don't go to stay in hotels by themselves, because the questions took a different turn:

"Are you staying in the hotel or nearby?" (It's an all-inclusive; they don't even let visitors come to the main property. Why wouldn't I be staying at the hotel?)
"Are you here for business or pleasure?" (My response--"Even business is pleasure when you're doing it in Jamaica."--probably didn't help matters.)
"Did you just come for the tourist season?"
"How do I reach you?"

I confess, even after the first three questions, I was TOTALLY clueless. It was the fourth question coupled with a simultaneous mumbling from the bartender under his breath in patois ("Ah some'n him a look, man! Him tink a work yuh a work!") that made me realize I wasn't having an easy conversation with a stranger at the bar. To say I left the bar quickly would've been an understatement. Even Usain wouldn't have been able to catch me that evening.

Should I stop talking to strangers or just stop going on vacations to the Caribbean alone?

My boyfriend and I are planning a beach getaway over the winter. His best friend wants to come because he's never been to that island before. My BF doesn't see anything wrong, but I'm PISSED. Am I overreacting?
-Anonymous question via my Formspring page

I don't think you should be pissed; you should be WORRIED. I'm assuming that your boyfriend's best friend is not bringing a companion and in my opinion, that's a red flag. Any redblooded straight male who has the prospect of a romantic (read: lots of sex) vacation with his lady would not jeopardize it to hang out with his boy, unless:
a) He's planning on getting some from his boy too, or
b) He's planning on making it a threesome.

Either way, you should be worried (unless you're totally down with the threesome). It's not normal for dudes to bring along friends on their romantic vacations...actually, this is an equal opportunity dilemma; it's not normal for women to do it either. Three is never company. It didn't even work on Three's Company (Janet was always the red-headed stepchild.)

So what to do? Tell your boyfriend that his best friend will have to go on his own and explain that you just want it to be the both of you so you can rock his world. (Make sure you specify that you plan to "rock his world.") That should get rid of the best friend pretty quickly.

If he still insists on bringing his friend, then you have to decide if you wanna continue dating a gay dude.

ag·o·ny [ag-uh-nee] –noun: 1. extreme and generally prolonged pain; intense physical or mental suffering. 2. a term used by some Jamaican men to describe their sexual prowess.

I was recently in Jamaica and saw a television ad for condoms. Rough Riders, to be exact. The slogan was "Ride Rough, Ride Safe" and it was obviously targeted at men (something about the bootylicious women in the ad I just don't think would attract a female audience).

I've always been baffled by some Jamaican men's approach to sex. In songs, they proudly talk about how they make women "bawl", "rail an' kick" and "wince under the agony." Some even have the prowess to use their penises so powerfully that women regurgitate their meals ("horse tonic fi mek she vomit")! Mmm, sexy.

Yet on the other hand, I've never heard a woman say, "Oh yes, I like him to pound me like pimento in a mortar and pestle." or "I don't mind not being able to walk the next day." So where are these men getting the idea that delivering "agony" is what women really want? If men just thought about it logically, which woman do you know who wants her vagina ravaged and tossed about like a zinc roof in a hurricane? Not me.

If you ask me, the true agony for Jamaican women is a dude who will brutalize her vagina won't kiss it.

What say you?

First Love was a pair of stilettos: they look good on the outside with all their buckles and studs; they make you think of hot passionate sex (or is that only me?); they make you just wanna be BAD; you feel fabulous when you're wearing them, like your legs are a million miles long...but deep down inside you know you'll be paying for it later. You know that this feeling of fabulosity is only temporary, and after a while you'll be in excruciating pain, wondering why you didn't just wear your "go-to" shoes...

New Beau is like a pair of "go-to' shoes: they're probably a little rough around the edges because they've been around the block a few times, but they're comfortable. So what if your legs don't look like they're finely-toned stilts of perfection? You know you can dance in them all night and still feel amazing. No ice packs, no peppermint foot soaks, no hobbling into work the next day...even if you don't feel like quite so much of a bad-ass when you're wearing 'em.

Being the girl that I am, I want both: the excitement of the stiletto wrapped in a comfortable shoe that won't cause me pain later.

Is there any such thing as a comfortable stiletto?

You have undoubtedly heard of the phenomenon known as cameltoe, an unfortunate bundling of one's privates on one side of the divider line of the pants.

When it occurs, it's an unfortunate and uncomfortable situation for both parties: if you have the cameltoe, you can't very well just lift and separate in public, and if you are the viewer of the cameltoe, you can't very well just point it out like a dirty spot on a tee-shirt. So when cameltoe's involved everyone just sits and waits for it to resolve itself...well, except TMZ who seems to make a habit out of showcasing Sophie Monk's cameltoe.

But here's something you may not know: cameltoe affects men too. And when it's a dude, it's even more disturbing and awkward. There's nothing worse than seeing a dude with his balls all separated and pronounced in his pants. So men, if you put on a pair of pants and your balls aren't touching each other, consider another pair.

That is all. Thank me later.

1. We will date you if you're struggling, but you're ambitious and trying to make things happen. We will date you if we make more money than you. Some of us don't mind that you didn't go to college. And we'll accept some things that aren't on our "list". But if you're a liar or a cheat, all bets are off.

The last time I dared to share my own opinions about SATC on my own blog, I was given a sound talking to by an "anonymous" reader who just happened to be "bored and browsing the web" when she "stumbled upon my blog." *side eye*

I admit, I entertained the banter for so long because I really thought it was my cousin in LA messing with me...until I got one of "Anonymous'" responses while I was on the phone with said cousin. LOL. Nevertheless, I've come to realize that SATC fans are no joke and they'll shank you in a minute for talking about their girls.

So I've decided to have a nice cup of STFU and refrain from saying anything about SATC2.

If you need me, I'll be over here waiting for SATC3: Naked in the Nursing Home.

This will make more sense if you read Part I first.

Dear Simple Enigma,

I find myself in a complex situation and I need some advice from a seasoned dating expert such as yourself. My friends' advice has been really good, but now that there is a new development, I'm beginning to feel like the girl who cried wolf and so would appreciate some objective input.

I started dating a guy last October. Everything felt right for the first time in a long time. Things were starting to get serious. But suddenly he started getting weird and distant and then he started vanishing only to pop up every month or so and agree that we needed to talk and tell me he'd been going thru some stuff only to vanish again without the conversation taking place. I was upset and then I was angry. Why was he wasting my time and why did he think he could just do this? After 3 months of this vanishing/reappearing act, he called again. When I spoke to him it was pretty clear from my tone that I was annoyed and angry. I just had a birthday and I've been dating some different guys online (who haven't really been what I'm looking for). I also started a new stressful job and have been exhausted and tired all the time.

I was actually quite rude and abrupt. At the end of a week of very stressful work I realized that I didn't feel good about our last conversation and I needed some resolution one way or the other. I also wanted some of my stuff back. So I called him and met with him.

We sat and talked. He apologized profusely for the vanishing, but explained that he'd been dealing with something that even he didn't know how to deal with, and then didn't know how to tell me when we started dating cos he didn't want to ruin things or it wasn't the right time and then he was just stuck because he didn't know what to say or what to do about it.

The situation is this...

...aaaaand scene. Part 2 will come shortly, but leave your comments on Part 1. (Mine are below.)

Dear Chances,
I had to break this up into two parts. For one, your email was really, really long. Secondly, I don't want to taint the reader's responses by providing the whole story all at once.

It's interesting that we haven't yet gotten to "the situation" cos in my opinion, a dude does the vanishing/reappearing act with me for more than 2 weeks and it's a situation. Only a death in the family (parent, sibling or child) or surgery could excuse him from waffling for three months. What excuse (save death or surgery) could he possibly have? And even if it were one of those, why wouldn't he call to tell you if he were really interested in continuing to see you? My instinct says that he has to have a side piece. There is no other explanation if he appears to be fine and well. And then you called him back after you told him about himself to meet up? I guess some of us are more forgiving than others...

What say you, readers?

There are some people who think they can say anything to you as long as they compliment your face. Most women are used to it; every woman has that one friend who's a backhanded complimenter. Y'know, the chick who'll say, "You're so lucky you could wear those pants. If I wore 'em, they'd make my hips look huge!" or "Oh, you guys are still together after all these years?!" or "Oh this dress?! It's a little big for me, but it'd look great on you!" LOL. Yeah. That chick.

Call it a double standard, but it doesn't really bother me when women do it. I kinda expect it. But when a dude does it, it's a red flag. A huge one.

I recently hung out with a couple (an acquaintance and her new boyfriend) and he kept giving her these compliments-that-weren't-really-compliments. Little subtle jabs here and there that went completely unnoticed by her, like, "This girl is definitely not into salads. She could probably out-eat a few of my guy friends." Did I mention that my acquaintance is a bit chubby? It reminded me of a dude I used to date who was a Backhanded Complimenter.

He'd say stuff like, "My ex had a dress like that, but you fill it out a lot more." Not a bad thing to say, right? But he'd say something like that 10 minutes after I'd commented that I was feeling fat or bloated.

Or when he said, "No your ass is fine. I don't even like big butts, and I'm not really a tit man either!" What, pray tell, is left? Granted, I had been complaining about my lack of ass (a traumatic experience for a Black woman), but I hadn't said a thing about my breasts. Not one word. And which Black man doesn't like big butts?

The kicker was when he said, "I've dated the hot, gorgeous celebrity with the great body. I'm over that. I'm looking for a simple, average woman." Um, thanks? Needless to say, since I was neither simple or average, I decided that I wasn't the chick for him.

What's the worst backhanded compliment you've ever gotten?

There are some names that no matter how goodlooking the person on the other end of it, you just cannot imagine a passionate love scene with them. I once went on a date on a date with a dude name Horace. Except he didn't pronounce it Horaaace like we do in the islands. No, that would've been too easy. His pronunciation was Horis, said harsh and quickly like you were hacking up phlegm. Once I got the phlegm image in my mind, the date was all downhill from there. By the time he told me he was "violently opposed" to adoption, I had already checked out, convinced that his anti-adoption drivel was somehow connected to his wack-ass name.

Sounds superficial? Maybe. But can you picture yourself locked in a hot embrace with a thirty-something Mortimer or Ethel? Probably not. And it's not just old names either. Tell me you don't think of Rocky every time you hear the name Adriene; or Emmanuel Lewis when you hear Webster (how can you still have sex after Webster's angelic face pops into your head?) or Terry McMillan and her gay husband when you hear Stella (personally, I think of Taye Diggs and that horrid accent, but that may just be me).

The worst is the name Oliver. The first image that comes to mind for me is a pale-faced Oliver (Twist) holding out his bowl and saying, "Please sir, may I have some more?" and the overweight man getting red in the face and bellowing, "More?! More?!" And boxing poor Oliver's ears. The second image is the Jamaican Oliver (Samuel) and his, er, flamboyant ways. I don't know which is more disturbing, but neither gets me in the mood.

One of my guy friends dated a woman with his mother's name for about two years. Akward? A little. Creepy? Most definitely. I felt sure that if they'd gotten married, there'd have been a therapist and a couch in their future. I couldn't date a dude with the same name as my dad. But I have dated a dude with my last name when I lived in JA, a far more ballsy move, considering my dad's, er, charm.

The last guy I dated seriously before the current BF (whom I call by his last name because the first name is not so wonderful) actually lied about his name. I didn't find out until 4 months in, and then only by accident.

I hate a horrid name, but I hate a liar even more. At least you can change a bad name...

There are three things you should never make negative comments to a man about:

1. His mother
2. His kids
3. His penis size

Learn it, love it, live it.

So the other day I was watching the Tyra show (please don't judge me) and the show was about women with two vaginas. Apparently it's more common than we think.

At first I thought of all the great things I could do with two vaginas. I could use one and keep the other inactive so I'd always be a virgin; I could alternate them so my boyfriend would feel like he was having sex with a different woman each time; or I could stimulate both g-spots at the same time and have an earth-shattering orgasm. On second thought, that last one would probably kill me, so maybe not.

Then the women really delved into what having two vaginas actually meant and I wasn't so thrilled. Each of them only had one g-spot. Most of them got two periods (one woman even got periods at different times so she was on the rag 3 weeks out of every month!). One woman who had two uteruses got pregnant in both at the same time, and another had double the pain when she was having sex. Egads.

Seems like the only person who'd benefit from a woman having two vaginas is her man or the porn industry. Shocker.

I wonder if there are any dudes with two penises out there...hmmm...

Question from an M.O.D. reader:

SE,
I've been dating online for a couple months. I recently connected with a guy and we exchanged a few emails. He called to arrange an in person meeting and without realizing it was Valentine's Day, I suggested this Sunday. He kind of hesitated before agreeing, and I didn't realize until after I got off the phone. He texted me yesterday to see if we were still on, but I haven't answered yet. Should I come up with an excuse and postpone until another day?

Absolutely NOT. If you weren't already familiar with my thoughts on Valentine's Day, then let me share them again: I think it's a stupid holiday. I thought so when I was single, and I think so now that I have a BF. It's another day of the year, and it shouldn't dictate whether you go out on a date with this guy. Matter of fact, if you cancel now, it'd look way more suspicious...kinda like you got a better offer. If I were him, I probably wouldn't want to go out with you after that.

If you're feeling awkward about a first date on Valentine's, call him (instead of responding via text) and say, "Look, when I suggested Sunday, I didn't realize it was Valentine's Day. I don't really celebrate the day, so if you'd prefer to meet up another day that's totally fine with me." If he says he wants to meet another day, lose his number. That means HE has a better offer. LOL. Just kidding. If he wants to reschedule grab one of your single guy friends (single gals hanging around on V-Day is just too cliche) or a mixed group and go out and have fun. If he keeps the date, go out and have fun. The goal is to have fun.

While I'm on the topic of Valentine's Day, here are some dos and don'ts if you happen to celebrate the day:

Used to be that people became famous because they actually had a modicum of talent, or did something newsworthy. Nowadays, all you have to do is have your sex tape "accidentally" leaked, and BAM, you're the next big thing. Matter of fact, I hear some quasi-celebrities are now even shopping their sex tapes to the highest bidder. Geez.

I blame Paris. She started this whole I-have-no-talent-so-I-have-to-fall-back-on-my-sexuality trend. No one knew who she was until that tape was made public. I watched that tape, and frankly, I don't think it was sufficient to turn on a lightbulb with the switch already in the on position, much less a normal, red-blooded man. But it sold millions and catapulted this unknown into stardom. Egads.

You may be wondering why I'm bringing this up now. Well, Superbowl 44 got me thinking: Now that Reggie Bush has his ring, he's gonna put a ring on the finger of a woman who's crotch has been seen all throughout the land. Yes, in case you forgot, the future wife of the Superbowl champ also had her own sex tape scandal a few years ago. She's capitalized on it, and so has Ray J (a real shit stain on the underpants of humanity) with that God-awful show.

I'm not hating on Kim (I actually think she's a smart woman with an acute business sense) but if I was a guy, I don't know that I'd want every dude in the locker room to know what my woman's lady parts look like...even if the tape was staged and over-produced. But she's pretty and has an amazing body so I guess that makes up for it.

Alas, this doesn't quite fly in the Caribbean. LOL. Our people are terrible when it comes to scandal. Recently, when a former Caribbean beauty queen's tape was allegedly discovered on her computer and sent throughout the Caribbean community as viral video, it wasn't glitz and glamor and offers pouring in from Hollywood. Nah, dread. My people?! I don't think anyone has seen her since...and even 5 years from now, people will still be talking. And even though many dudes admired her, erm, performance on tape, I couldn't find one who said he'd wife her.

All I could think about when I first heard the scandal was, "Oh God. Her poor parents!"

My father has a saying, "Mad man nuh shame, but 'im parents shame."

Ah, if only it were true in America...

Attention gentlemen:

There is nothing wrong with a little lean to the side. Most women won't care.

But when your tower is bent or too curved, women really begin to evaluate whether the sex is worth it.

There is nothing worse than giving a Curver the benefit of the doubt, only to end up having bad sex. No woman wants to stretch her lady parts out for bad sex.

Just a memo...

Oh, BTW, now you can

On occasion, I go back and read some of my entries from years ago. This one is kinda scary...everything in my TCOEB has come to pass.

So a friend of mine asked me why I don't answer questions any more on my blog.

(For those of you who are late followers, I used to answer questions from readers. Some of my favorite are at the end of this entry.)

I'd like to be able to give you some great reason that showcases my evolution and maturity, but alas I have none. The reason is that I had a separate email account for questions and forgot the password after a prolonged period of not checking it, and that was the end of that. Matter of fact, there could be tons of unanswered questions in that inbox right now, which may have caused the demise of some relationships. LOL.

Yeah, but I'm always happy to answer questions. As long as you don't take it too seriously. Here are some of my favorite reader's questions:

The Tramp Stamp
S.T.F.U.
Shh, Don't Say Nuthin: Part 1 and Part 2

Well, if you have a question, feel free to ask me!

Labels: Reader's Questions

So I had a gathering with the gals recently and a few of them were thinking of trying online dating (that's soooo 2001) and speed-dating (that's soooo 2006). LOL.

We were discussing the pros and cons of meeting someone online vs. in a bar vs. in the supermarket vs. on the street vs. church vs. in a sex toy shop...well, you get the idea.

Having tried most of those venues, save church and the sex toy shop (both of those make me feel like I'm doing something wrong), I don't really think there's a good place to meet a significant other. There are some grade A arseholes in church (I've heard no one knows how to get down like a church girl) as well as in the club. Matter of fact, it's usually the same arseholes from the club you'll meet in church the next day. LOL.

Despite my horrid experiences, I like online dating. That's where I met First Love, that's where I met my best friend (although we weren't tryna date each other) and frankly, at least I know that they can read.

The club thing is just not my scene. It's easy to holla at me when I'm dressed up and lookin' fine. If you holla at me when I'm looking like a bum (i.e. current BF), then I know you're really interested.

Don't talk to me while I'm at the gym. Period. Well, unless you look like Dreamy Dread.

The supermarket's ok too, I think. It's a good way to scope out dude's consumer habits (like if he's buying tampons, it's probably a red flag).

The weirdest place I've ever been holla'd at is at an OB/GYN doctor's office. Yup, you read right. Dude apparently chose a GYN as his primary care physician, so he was waiting for his "annual physical." That's creepy on so many levels that I can't even begin to explain.

What say you? Where's the best place to meet someone, and where's the weirdest place someone's ever tried to holla at you?

Picture this: you meet an amazing guy. Your first date flows like something out of a wildly successful movie. You're two great looking people who are both on the same wavelength: similar sense of humor, you're both well-versed on a variety of different topics, you both have a love for art and travel, and (good lawd! Hallelujah! Amen!) he has his own place, no kids and he's straight!

This is seriously one of the best dates you've been on in a long time, maybe ever. The date lasts into the night. He invites you back to his place, and although you've never gone back to a dude's place on the first date, you're open to the possibility of what the night may bring. You don't know if you're gonna sleep with him, but you definitely know you don't want the night to end.

So you go back to his place, a well-kept building in a young professional neigborhood. His kitchen is clean, his living room is a typical bachelor set up. He proceeds to give you the tour, saving the bedroom for last. When you finally enter the bedroom, there, to your thirty-something horror, is a twin bed in the middle of the room. (And not a brand new one either...one that looks like it was purchased in the 70s, which, by your calculation would make it his childhood bed.)

Baffled, you await the explanation. Y'know, something like, "I just moved in and I'm waiting for my bed to arrive" or "My bed broke and it's being fixed" or something to indicate that this grown-ass man isn't still sleeping on his childhood bed 20+ years later and is ok with it.

Nothing.

Your attraction to this man is oddly dissipating as you stand there staring at the bed. You try to rationalize the situation to yourself: Snap out of it! This is the best date you've been on in a long time. Why should a little thing like this change everything?!

But you know deep down inside that things have changed. Why, oh why couldn't he have a futon? you wonder. Or an air mattress? Or even the pull-out couch? Why?

Is there any rationale explanation for a grown man with his own place to still have his childhood bed?

https://www.toondoo.com/cartoon/1154724

So I was back before. Then I left. Now I'm back again. Here's what I learned on my summer vacation:

1) I have a lot of cyber stalkers. I'd really like to believe that it's my wit and charm and funny perspectives on relationships that keeps yawl coming back. But there's 1% of you who I believe genuinely don't have lives. LOL.

2) If your (female) friend's boyfriend/husband is gay, don't tell her.

3) Some women say that they don't want to get married...until someone proposes. I genuinely mean it...and I have 1.5 proposals under my belt to prove it.

4) Some things are better left..., erm....Anonymous.

5) Most Jamaican men who say they don't give oral are lying. They may suck at it (no pun intended), but they do it.

6) Married couples can be annoying. They tell each other everything...including your business.

7) There are a lot of gorgeous men in New York with breath that smells like sweaty gym socks.

8) Women who are willing to work a long day, come home tired and worn out, and still put a pot on the fire to feed a man who has two functioning hands (AND was home before her) do exist...they are in their 70s.

9) Men with smaller, erm, organs work harder at oral. They have more to prove.

10) Once a turtle, always a turtle...one cannot modify their genetic predispositions...

What did you learn this summer?

So I met a boy on Match. At first glance he wasn't really my type physically, but he's funny and we get along so great together. I've literally been walking around with a huge smile on my face for the past couple of months (and it may be a teeensy part of the reason I've been missing. LOL).

We'll call the man that's been making my day Top Chef. No, that's not what he does for a living, but the reason will become apparent as time goes on.

My first date with Top Chef was amazing. I instantly liked him. I can't remember feeling that way about anyone since First Love. I'm not even sure what it was, but I just really connected with him. Before our second date, he'd already met some of my friends. By our second date, I'd met his best friend. Within 2 weeks of knowing each other, we were already planning our summer.

Everyone noticed the change in me. "You're smiling more," said one person. "You're glowing!" observed another. After a month, I was completely into this dude.

One day early in our courtship, we were having a conversation about cooking. "Nah, I don't cook." I joked. "I'm used to dating people who cook for me."

"That's gonna be a problem," he said, laughing. Unfortunately for me, I thought he was joking too. I should have remembered the good old Caribbean adage, "every skin teet' a no laugh" (just because a person's teeth are showing doesn't mean they're laughing).

A Digression: The Cooking Thing
I grew up with my dad and a "helper" (the equivalent of a nanny/housekeeper). No one ever taught me to cook. The helper always did it, and when we stopped having helpers, my dad did it. As a result, I didn't learn to cook until I was living on my own and it became a necessity. I'm a self-taught cook. That said, I'm a fabulous cook. I can't make a lot of things, but the meals I can make, people have called them the best [meal type] they've ever had.

In relationships, I usually date guys who are the chefs. Not because I demand it, but because that's how it turns out. I'm a foodie, so I really wouldn't mind eating out all the time. But when I cook for a dude, it's because I really like him. It's my way of showing him that I want to make the effort to make him happy. And if I'm involved with dude, then I love to make my man happy.

Back to the story...
So I invited Top Chef over for dinner one night. I decided to make my infamous brown stew salmon marinated in butter, tamarind sauce and spices. It was a home run. If our courtship could have gotten any better at that point, it would have.

Alas, Top Chef thought from that point on, dinner was going to be a regular occurrence. And he kept asking, and asking, and making references to me cooking, and making jokes about me not cooking. It got to the point where we couldn't have a conversation without the topic coming up, which is annoying to me on so many levels. I like to do things for people because I want to, not because it's expected of me or because that's my role.

I asked him to chill on the jokes, to no avail. The cute text messages and "Hey baby!" phone calls got fewer and farther between. Our conversations became strained, since we couldn't have one without him mentioning how bothersome my not cooking was. Then one day he let me know that cooking was his dealbreaker.

I was seriously distraught. Our amazing connection ruined over something that would have happened naturally if he'd just allowed it to blossom at its own pace.

To be continued...

So last year in September I had a Date Day with two random guys I met on a dating site. I really liked one of the guys; we hung out for about 6 hours. Then I went to Brazil, came back, tried to reconnect and never heard from him again.

In April, (yes you read right, April!) seven months after we'd had our one and only date, I get an email from dude: "Sorry I haven't been in touch, but I hurt my leg and I've been laid up for a while." WTF?!? I don't know what's funnier that he thought he could send me an email nearly a year later and I'd just be like, "Ok, sure! Let's go on another date!", or that he used such a lame excuse.

I mean, really...what does hurting your leg have to do with typing an email, or dialing a phone number? LOL.

I met Dude #2 on Match.com in February/early March. He was a good looking guy, but lived in another state and hadn't ever been out of the country. (Major turnoff...I understand if you live in a small country, where opportunities to travel aren't that many, but to live in America and not own a passport?!? Don't make no damn sense!) So anyway, we took it offline, started chatting on the phone every night. To be honest, I didn't get a romantic feel from our conversations; we kinda clashed a bit, and he reminded me a little of Mr. Right. Then the calls started getting less frequent; he said he was really busy at work and was working late nights (he's a school teacher; how late could your nights really be?). I just figured he met someone more interesting (I had). After a couple of unreturned calls, I let it go.

Early May (a couple months after we last spoke), I get an email (that's how you know someone's really bullshitting: when they send you an email instead of calling....remember me and the Awkward Kisser?): "Hey SE, I'm not sure what happened, but somehow we kinda lost track of each other. I'd love to speak to you again. Send me an email some time."

Again, WTF?!? We didn't lose track of each other, you stopped returning my calls, buddy. That's what happened. LOL.

Needless to say I didn't bother responding to either email. I mean, if you're gonna give me an excuse for not calling, tell me you were out of the country for a few months.

At least that's what I always say...LOL.

Hello my lovelies!
How are we doing? I'm back from my blog vacation (sometimes you need a break to rejuvenate and get started again...which is technically what "rejuvenate" means, so I'm being redundant right now). Didjya miss me?

There is so much to tell. I've broken up with Awkward Kisser; started seeing another dude, fell madly in like with him while simultaneously dating a second dude (with whom I had no chemistry) to keep the balance; broken up with the dude I was madly in like with because his views are from the 1920s; still dating the dude I started dating for balance who treats me like a kept woman; heard from two dudes who had flaked on me in the past...one over 6 months ago (seriously, WHY are you calling?!); had an AMAZING date with Dreamy Dread (yeah, I read my last post, dammit...) who thankfully is not 23 like I originally thought he was; have seen neither hair nor hide of The Rainmaker; tallied up my, erm, "number" for the first time in years; and back on Match.com.

Those stories will obviously take a little time to craft, so stay tuned...you'll get at least one of them this week.

Yup, I'm still single...

So after my the fiasco with Date #1, you'd think he'd be completely off the radar, right? Erm, not so much. LOL.

I felt truly bad about our first date. I decided that he was SUCH a nice guy, he deserved a second chance. I mean, he was really sweet.

So I agreed to go on a second date. It happened that I had plans afterwards, so I had an exit strategy in the event that things got to be unbearable. Just to be sure, I called a friend and told her I was stopping by her house afterwards, to get a buffer between us and so he wouldn't have to drop me home. (Wasn't ready for him to know where I lived yet).

The date went ok. I was sure that we had no chemistry and was planned to send him an email saying the same. (These unpleasantries are best handled electronically, IMO).

So we pull up to my friend's house. I call her to come open the door. No answer. (I should point out that I'd JUST spoken to her not even 5 minutes before).

I try her again. Still no answer.

"It's ok," I said. "You don't have to wait. I'm sure she's just in the bathroom or something."

"I'm not gonna drive off and leave you on some deserted corner!" was his response.

I tried her a third time. Still no answer.

We're waiting in his car. Then before I had time to formulate a reaction he leans over and kisses me. I recovered just in time to make sure there was no tongue.

I make some random comment about the neighborhood to diffuse the situation, frantically glancing at my phone to see if I'd missed the text from my friend telling me how she'd left me up the creek without a paddle.

Alas, looking away was a bad move on my part; he came in again and pressed his lips to mine. I kept my mouth closed and avoided the tongue.

I had to get out of there. I stealthily pressed the volume button on my phone to turn up the ringer and fake answered it, praying she wouldn't call at that very moment.

"She's on her way down!" I said. "Thanks for a great evening, and we'll talk soon!"

I don't think I've ever exited a car so quickly...not even when, in college, my friend Colin farted and rolled up the windows while I was in the back of a 2-door car and I had to crawl out through the driver's side.

I watched him drive off and wondered how I was going to tell him I wasn't interested after two kisses...

This will make more sense if you read Part 1 first.

Date #1 was a teacher by day, musician by night. The perfect blend of art and intellect (this isn't to suggest that one excludes the other). He was tall and handsome enough. And you know how I feel about teachers, so of course I was sold.

It didn't matter that he was a white guy from the midwest and we had nothing in common. Opposites attract, right? Besides, he was a teacher!

He met up one evening. He was pleasant and complimentary. He was on time. He was as tall as he'd claimed online. He laughed at all my jokes (big belly laughs that made ME even believe I was funnier than I knew I actually was). He got my sarcasm and was able to hold his own. And he bored me to tears.

I first noticed my mind wandering after the entree was served, and by the time the check came, I was already making a mental list of errands I wanted to run the next day.

When he suggested we go for coffee, I really wanted to refuse. But he was a REALLY nice guy, and we'd only been together for a little over an hour, so I felt obliged to accept.

I dozed off during drinks. Just for a quick second...it could have been classified as a long blink, even. Thankfully he didn't notice. An hour later (during which time I shamefully admit recalling a passionate session with First Love just to keep my mind alert), our date came to a close. Even though he was such a sweet guy, I was relieved. I felt drained and ready for bed.

Is it completely wrong that I went out and partied until daylight?

There are millions of guys in the world and a couple mil in New York; I don't have the same tastes as any of my friends; I created the whole dibs system.

Yet for some inexplicable reason, I always have a friend who ends up dating (or interested in) a dude I'm into.

I know what you're thinking: "She can't be your friend if she's trying to move in on your guy." Arguably true, but the dudes are never my guy, and I prefer to choose my friends based on more solid qualities (have they been there when I needed them, do they listen to me, can I depend on them in the fell clutch of circumstance, etc.). If they pass those criteria, then we're good to go...I try not to let one flaw determine an entire relationship...at least where friendships are concerned.

Just to give you some background, this has happened a lot. My first "boyfriend" (cause when you're that young, you don't really have boyfriends) ended up dating my good friend MR. She also went out with, and ended up marrying my second boyfriend.

Then in college, I was really feelin' this guy BR. We fondled each other a couple times (he was the first guy I ever did anything with in college), and I thought he was really nice. My good friend MP (who I told how much I really liked him) slept with him...oh, did I mention she had a fiance? Yup. Trifling. I ended up cutting her off, her ability to lie to her fiance and still get married to him made me realize she wasn't the sort of person I wanted in my life.

Throughout my adulthood, I've had several more situations where a friend ended up dating a dude I was interested in -- at least 5. In 3 instances, the dude had actually approached me first and chatted me up, only to later do the same to my friend. I never addressed it, partly because I just can't deal with the drama and partly because I don't want to be a cockblocker (even though the same courtesy was never extended to me).

I'd like to introduce you to The Shark. I'd met the shark one day, and he and I flirted for quite a while. I'm not quite sure how it happened, but The Shark shifted his interests to a friend of mine. As usual I let it go, and I'm not sure what happened after that between the two of them. So The Shark recently sent me an email to ask for my number. I was baffled, but provided it anyway (although I wondered why he couldn't just ask my friend). He calls:

Shark: "Hey SE, it's The Shark."
Me: "Oh, hey. How's it going?"
Shark: "Good. I was just calling to see how you've been."
Me: "I've been good. Not much happening....so what's up?"
Shark: "Nothin' man. Just wanted to see if you wanted to grab a bite sometime and talk."

A bite? Dude, you left our perfectly good chemistry to pursue my friend and you want to grab a mutha-effin bite?! Erm, negative.

Me: "Sounds good, but my schedule is really busy."
Shark: "I'll work around you."
Me: "Ok, I'll let you know."
Shark: "Yeah, let me know. I'd really love to take you out to dinner."

Now you know I have NO intention of calling this dude back, right? LOL.

There are plenty of fish in the sea. Some people prefer to take a few from someone else's net than venture out on their own...but I'm not one of those people. I'll catch my own fish, thankyouverymuch....

For my 30th birthday, a friend of mine got me a 3-month subscription to M atch.com. I'm not quite sure how to take this, since I'd asked all my friends to donate to a charity in lieu of buying me a birthday gift.

Maybe she was killing two birds with one stone? Or maybe my previous online dating experiences so thoroughly entertained her that she was willing to pay for more? I dunno, but needless to say I wasn't very thrilled at receiving the gift. However, they say you should never look a gift horse in the mouth, and I didn't want to be ungrateful, so I decided that I'd give it a proper try so her $70+ dollars wouldn't be wasted. Besides, one of my closest friends met her husband through the site, so it can work, if you're open.

I deactivated my 1FootOffTheLedge username (shockingly, I hadn't gotten any emails) and decided to start anew. I completed my profile in great detail, taking care to discuss my likes, dislikes, who I was looking for, etc. I made sure I was specific.

Not surprisingly, the first person who contacted me was crazy. His first email: "Do you date interracially?" Nothing else, just the one question. Aside from the fact that I'd indicated that my racial preference was "open" on my profile, this question annoyed me for a couple of reasons:
1) I'm sure there were at least three interesting things on my profile that a dude could've asked me about to strike up a conversation.
2) It shows that he hasn't bothered to read my profile, which makes me wonder if he can read at all (a suspicion that was further confirmed after reading his profile. It was riddled with misspellings and grammatical errors, and you know how I feel about that)
3) Anyone who is so focused on race from the start is not someone I'm interested in dating. He'll be dating me for all the wrong reasons.

So I responded pleasantly: "I'm not so much interested in race," I wrote, "It's really more important for there to be chemistry. Race is such a non-issue in my life right now."

Email #2: "Ok, cool. I really liked your profile. We should chat and get to know each other better."

Email #3 (20 minutes after Email #2): "We should chat off the site. My email address is _________"

Email #4 (10 minutes after Email #3): "Let's talk. My number is _______"

Now keep in mind that he's sent me THREE emails in the space of a half hour, and since I logged off after responding, I'm only getting email alerts to my cell phone that someone has sent me an email on the site.

The next day, I log on and he's sent me another email...that's FOUR in a 24-hour period, in case you lost count. I realize this dude is crazy and I need to nip it in the bud.

"Dear ______," I wrote, "Thank you so much for the compliments and your interest in me. It's very flattering and I appreciate it very much. After looking at your profile, I don't think we are romantically compatible, but I wish you all the best in your search."

He responds almost immediately, which makes me realize that he's purchased one of those memberships where he's always logged on. That just solidifies his crazy status in my mind. His response: "How can you say we are not romantically compatible when we haven't even spoken? What does that mean?"

I decide to ignore the email and not respond. Ten minutes later, "SE, I need a response. Please explain to me how you can say we are not romantically compatible when you haven't spoken to me. I need an explanation. What kind of games are you playing?"

I immediately logged into the site and utilized the handy "Block" feature. Thank God, I hadn't exchanged any personal information with dude, 'cos he definitely has some issues.

And that was just the first person that contacted me! To think, I have 3 glorious months of this...