Category: feedback

According to 66%, if you had to choose between either never getting married or never having children, the next step is definitely the baby. It seems that procreating is way more important than forming a “perfect union.” Interesting. Deep in my heart, I’ve always believed that true single parents (you know, the ones where there is no co-parent to be found AT ALL) are like the repo man in the hood, some of the most courageous people on the planet.

I on the other hand, like the not so courageous 33%, am gonna choose marriage sans babies.

And no, I did not choose this because I enjoy the luxury of walking around my crib in nothing more than a pair of cotton drawers on a sunny Saturday… I just think that at the end of the day, I’m not built for the whole single parent thing. I need help… A LOT of damn help. Like, therapist, nanny, housekeeper AND dutiful husband type of help. All that crying and dirty diapers and running amuck in the name of childhood- just thinking about it is enough to drive me to drink. Uh-uh, if it’s gonna go down, I need the person that helped created the situation to bear his share of burden (read: a shoulder to tap in the middle of the night when the baby wakes up crying like a wild banshee. ‘Cause you know Mommy needs her beauty sleep). Lord knows, I can barely get my life together, let alone raise a kid solo. No sir, we don’t want that at all.

I have a very delicate sense of smell. It’s sensitive to the point where I tear up and act out over what might be considered to most as a barely perceptible odor. I am admittedly the chick sneaking sniffs of my own arm pits on a regular basis just because… And you know what, I’m okay with that.

Over the years, I’ve come to believe that my low tolerance is a result of being vertically challenged (read: short). Living life at arm pit level with the majority of folks makes me privy to a whole lotta stink that the average person at 5’7″ might miss. ESPECIALLY when it’s time to be upclose and personal, if you know what I mean. Needless to say, it’s really interesting to me that 58% of you would prefer a partner who’s entire body stinks versus the 41% who voted for a partner with a yuck mouth.

Perhaps it’s because you plan keep them stocked with prescription strength Mitchum deodorant and clean shirts/ underwear…. True, I hear ya. But let me ask you this right quick- What happens at the end of the day, when they lay down on your 600 thread count sheets and get to snuggling up next to you??? EEEEWWWWAAAAA. And you know it’s inevitable that you’ll become guilty by association. Because how can a passing stranger tell that it’s only him/ her that smells like sour milk when you’re both sitting together? So what, you’ll just pretend to ignore the folks when who move away from the two of you? Uh-uh, no thank you.

I think I’ll just figure it out with the Mr. Yuck Mouth. Sure my purse will forever stay filled to the brim with packs of the dark blue brand of Extra gum (you know, the one that will burn a freakin’ hole in your nose?) and peppermint candies. My life reduced to be scheduling trips to the dentist and internist every other week while wielding a tongue brush like a saber sword. I will even sacrifice the days of deep toe-curling kisses and instead learn to hold my breath as long as it takes to place the perfunctory pecks on the cheek while always, always sleep facing away. And even though I will also probably have to pretend that I don’t see our mutual friends’ eyes tearing up from the offensive stentch when my beloved one leans in to say hello; at least he will be allowed to sit near the rest of us.

In an ideal world, no one would have to choose between love and a dream career. But as we’ve all learned from watching TMZ- ain’t no such thing as a perfect world. No matter who you are…

With that said, I’m happy to report that romance is far from dead. A whopping 76% would choose finding the love of their lives over a dream career. Wow, I am very impressed. I guess my friend Melissa probably summed it up best when she said that she couldn’t imagine a job fulfilling her as much as being with her soulmate. And you know, like my very happily married homegirl who left her own fabulous life in the big city to move to a distant CT suburb so patiently explained to me when I balked at her drastic lifestyle change, “I thought I had everything until I met him. And then nothing mattered as much.” Feel free to insert the ooh, ahh and sigh. Don’t you just heart love?

But I gotta tell ya when it’s all said and done, I’m betting on Mitzi. Like the remaining 23%, I choose the career of my dreams all day every day. And it has nothing to do with believing that being wealthy will make me happy. Simply put, I’m not willing to depend on any so-called soulmate to “complete me.” Uh-uh, my nerves are too bad for that. Besides, by now shouldn’t we all understand the basic science of maintaining a happy home??? “When mama’s happy, everybody’s happy but when mama’s ain’t happy…”
I wholeheartedly believe that if I’m pursuing my true passion, I can love and be more than satisfied with whomever I’m with (as long as we’re err-um physically compatible). Call me a control freak but the idea of waiting for the perfect person to experience the height of happiness is crazy. I’m all about making that happen now. Whenever Mr. Right shows up, he can join the party in progress (a.k.a get in where you fit in).
Disclaimer: This time around, I’m probably a bit bias because I really do LOVE my career (note: not a job)- annoying editors, stressful deadlines, check chasing and all. If I never ever, ever, ever get to be a nuevo black housewife with my nanny, maid and therapist dream team, I’ll be sad but certainly still wake up every day happy to do me.

How exhausting is this statement? “Girls from down South are nicer than girls from up north.” Feel free to insert a deep sigh. But as a favor to my boy Jelani, I posed it to you guys after we spent a good hour on the IM debating whether he-who believes that Southern women are “softer” than Northern women- is in the majority.

Turns out he is not alone.
Only 30% of you think that region doesn’t make a difference in how women treat a partner, etc.

69% believe women have distinctly different dating behaviors depending on where they grew up. Now whether or not “niceness” or “the ability to take care of their man” is one of them, I’m not so sure.

For the record, I’ve met quite a few mean ass, raggedy chicks from down south during my days at FAMU. And every last one of them claims to be a true Southern belle. And I’m willing to bet the house that any of the guys dating my girlfriends from up north have ZERO complaints about their ability to handle the business.

Well from the looks of it, appearance (and health, I hope) seem to be the priority for the majority of folks. A strong 64% said that you would rather date someone who could potentially never surprise you with a romantic weekend getaway, live in a cold, dark house because it saves a whopping $20 a month, have you cutting coupons for toilet paper or even worse ask you to go dutch at your very own bday dinner IN FRONT of family & friends; than be with someone who is noticeably overweight. True. If you can’t get past jiggly man-breasts and moist backfat, then you just can’t.

How-some-ever, once again I’m rolling with the minority on this one. Like the 36%, I cannot stand cheap people. Worse if it’s a man that I’m romantically involved with. My motto is: life is for the living. There’s a big difference between frugal and cheap. We ain’t gotta ball outta control every single day but good grief you can’t take it with. All that saving every last penny… no sir, mama needs pretty things to keep a happy house. Even if I have to go grocery shopping once a week and replace the mattress every three years because he’s breaking the springs… I’ll be damned if I we go out as a couple with a single girlfriend and homeboy doesn’t inherently understand that he’s expected to pick up the tab for her and I. As my girl Takara so eloquently explained, “one good bout of the flu or food poisoning… and you’ve got the skinny boy of your dreams.” Ha! I know, we ain’t about nothing…

Well, its definitely encouraging to learn that 66% of you have figured out a way to be friends with your exs. Cause I can def remember a time when the phrase, “I hope we can always be friends” was just the polite way to get off the phone. You know, after the whole- “Um no we can’t keep sleeping together anymore” part of the convo. And right before you’d call your closest friend and talk more mess than a little bit about how the entire relationship was nothing short of the biggest mistake of your life and not one of your friends were ever, ever, ever allowed to speak to him/ her again.

As for the 33% of you still cutting folks off at the knees, I wish you good luck. It takes great discipline to spend the rest of my life pretending not to know someone that I used to be get my sexy on with… especially if we live in the same city. With my kinda luck, I’m the one, bumping into them on every corner and opening of a soup can. And I swear, there is nothing more uncomfortable faking small talk with someone you’re not cool with. You know those horrid conversations held entirely in that high pitch, fake excited tone of voice-“Oh my god, hi!! It’s so good to see you!” When the whole time you’re wishing you just stayed home and drank a V-8? Mmm-hmm…

WOWOW, so the majority of you guys are not okay with your partner regularly logging on to internet porn, huh? Very interesting.

I gotta be honest, like the paltry 36%, I could care less if my partner watches while he’s working or surfing. As long as you’re not crying about how you can’t afford to take me out cause you’re broke, still putting it down in our bedroom, cleaning up after yourself at the desk and not asking me to help you pick a new position for the bootylicious freak who doesn’t know you from the next serial number that just logged off before you… The way I see it is, if you like it, I love it.

But I guess the 63% do have some valid points… Yes, all those virus and cookies downloaded to the computer will eventually cost money to remove. No, it’s probably not so easy for the average self esteem to accept that their partner fantasizes about another person (even if we know we do it too). Yes, certain stains and smells can be very challenging to remove when in a rush. And no, there’s nothing quite as comforting as the old school bootleg DVD that can be broken in half and tossed in the trash if I get mad enough.

I know, I know, this poll question seemed like a no-win situation. Because realistically, for the majority of us bad credit and crazy co-parents are as my girl Nikki put it, “the equal deal breakers.”
But sometimes in life, we gotta make the hard choices… And don’t act like you haven’t run up on the cutie that made you want to change your religion until he/she explained that they can’t even purchase a new cell phone without a freaking $1500 security deposit or that the real reason they have 7 bolt locks on the door is b/c the ex keeps kicking it in. Mmm-hmmm…

Ultimately, it seems that if absolutely forced to make a choice, 54% of you considered crappy credit to be the worse of the two evils. Clearly current economic concerns are making us say “no thank you” to more than that new pair of Manolos, huh? Well, like that old R&B song said- ‘ain’t nothing going on without the rent.’ And quietly, nowadays you won’t even qualify to view let alone rent that exclusive Riverside Drive duplex penthouse suite, without stellar credit. Shoot, we can always lock up your ex but I ain’t got 10 years to wait on you to get your car out of your auntie’s name.

For the 46% willing to hire a fantastic financial advisor and hold your boo down till that money gets right, kudos. I definitely understand why you put your foot down on the crazy co-parent. Don’t nobody need the phone ringing all times of the night or want folks jumping out of bushes kamakazi style. Sometimes there’s just not enough room or group therapy in the world for three adults in one relationship. Unlike the terrorists who consider suicide bombing a ticket to heaven… everybody ain’t able.

When it comes to making the magic happen, it seems I’m not the only who thinks the second time had better be the charm. According to the first poll of the week, 44% of you were more than okay with cutting a partner off if the sex was still wack after an initial botched performance.

Interestingly, 33% admitted that you’d hang in between 3 to 9 attempts… Hmm, I wonder whether you’re the “talk it through-teach him/her what I like” kinds? And if so, how’s that really going for ya?

And God bless, the 16% of you who don’t think sex is important enough to end a good relationship over. Either you got a mean hand/toy game or your nerves are way better than the mine…

But hands down, three snaps in a circle for the 5% of you who were over it after the initial encounter. And my friends think I have little patience for mediocrity. You yes, are my heroes.

Well at least I know that I’m not the only who has given up trying to sustain the sexy 24/7… Like myself, 42% of you guys feel comfortable enough to break out the comfy cotton from the very beginning of the relationship; $70 La Perla nylon lace thongs be damned.
And while I respect the gangsta of the 14% of you still figuring out ways to stay in a thong or even the silk panties for the duration (or at least until you get that proposal and crossover to the other side), it seems everybody ain’t able.
And just to clarify for the nonbelievers, comfy does not mean grandma. My low rise cotton bikini drawers are SUPER cute… even if they’re not always an exact, exact match with the bra. Oh and trust, when the outfit or mood calls for it the kid is the first one logging on to (can I get an amen?)
However, for the most part my butt just wants to be held… and supported properly. And like momma always says-to own box be true (but nothing keeps the GYN away like a pair of breathable cotton undies).

Don’t forget to log on and vote in the next poll!!!



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