Uhm, WHY Won’t You Go Away?

She’s just not that into you.Yes, that exists. Men don’t hold the patent for it. I admit, people often do not know how I feel about them. They get confused because I’m a flirt, I’m cordial and I’m rude in such a tactful manner that they think I’m actually being nice. Men do, however, know when I’m attracted to them; so at least there’s that. Yea…they may think that there’s an ulterior motive behind it but hey, I tried.

But don’t we all know when someone just does not like us or doesn’t want to be bothered with us? When I stop taking your calls or returning your messages, at what point does that translate into, “Hey, maybe she wants to hear from me?” Well guess what genius? I don’t! If I wanted you around or in touch, I would have kept in touch. I didn’t lose your number, I erased it. As a matter of fact, I didn’t erase it, I added it to calls blocker. Too bad this doesn’t cover text messages!

I hate that annoying moment when I get a text from a number that is no longer in my phone. Several months ago I had to do a whole Blackberry overhaul because there’s an issue with syncing my BB contacts with my Gmail account. After a sync I would end up with double and triple the amount of contacts. People’s information was being merged together. For example, I have my Mom as contact. After a sync, she would turn into Mom Johns and have the number to the pizza spot in her profile. A complete mess. So I had to use an old backup to restore contacts to my phone and so I lost some people. I also had BBM issues so I ended up building that contact list from scratch, and in the midst of all of this, I also got a new phone. This was my chance! I could finally get rid of people and have a valid excuse other than, “I’m not feeling you.” But then the new phone broke and I had to use my old phone as a back up. Popping my SIM card back into that old phone opened up a can of worms because people who I didn’t inform about my phone switch and new PIN were hitting me up. My dropping back off the face of the earth was easy though because when my replacement phone came, it was over.

My mistake was giving out my phone number. (The things I do when I drink.) So, no matter how much BBM contact list reconfiguration I do or phone changes I make, you can still reach me at 347-***-****. It’s like shooting myself in the foot. What is going on in people’s lives that they feel the need to dig back into the recesses of their contact list to reach out to me? You are not my ex, we weren’t even intimate! I’m minding my business and then boom, I hear from somebody left over from last year? WHO does that? I haven’t seen you in like 305 days and you’re hitting me up for what? Go that-away——->

I think I’m changing my number.

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Exception to the Rule? (Pretty for a Darkskinned Girl)

Some people love being the exception. I am not one of them. I know that issues of color and shade have been discussed a million times over and that the dead horse has been beaten, cremated and buried; but it doesn’t stop some things from being annoying. So here I am, annoyed.

In my mind there’s light and dark. There are for surely varying degrees of lightness and darkness, but I’m a darkskinned girl, period. Pretty for a darkskinned girl. That statement slaps me in the face as probably the worst backhanded compliment I’ve ever received. In just one sentence I’m lifted up and trashed. It is in that moment that I am livid.

That is NOT a compliment! What it says to me is that darkskinned sisters are usually, and expected to be, ugly. I am special and that is why this person is talking to me because I, in their little mind, am the exception to the rule. At that point they’ve lost all credibility and potential consideration. They’ve offended me and I’ll let it be known. This is a divisive act and causes further issues with color complexes within our community.

The oppressed often aspire to take on the image of the oppressor. It is extremely sad how through the years Black people have ostracized one another just to ensure a certain level of exclusivity or as an attempt to assimilate with that majority group. Throughout the world dark skin is the least favored. People go as far as trying to bleach their skin, reaching a sickly shade of pink, just so they will not be dark brown. I’m ambivalent toward this practice because I am able to see both angles of it. How much different is lightening one’s skin than it is to receive cosmetic surgery such as breast augmentation or rhinoplasty?

Everyday, people make permanent changes to their bodies and there are risks associated with all of it. For me, conflict arises because there isn’t a mass exodus of all women to get larger breasts because breasts are ok. Around the world, people are ok with them. They are not embarrasing, they don’t have to be a certain size and they are all over television and magazines. There are women who even get their breasts reduced. But what about dark skin? I don’t see anyone trying to make themselves permanently darker, so trying to lighten one’s skin, in my opinion, is evidence of a deeper rooted problem. When people are even trying to lighten babies you know it’s a very serious issue.

We may not have a widespread bleaching practice here in the U.S. but what if the younger generation catches on to it because this instilled shame is passed on to them? The pride people have about mixing with people from different cultures for the purpose of making fair skinned children with “good” hair unsettles my stomach. What if one kid comes out that way and the other doesn’t? Will they be treated any differently? Many of us do have preferences in terms of color and shade but I would like to believe that it’s just a matter of attraction and not that one is better than the other.

I was outside of a club once and a guy told me that the club owners were racists because a “regular” black girl wouldn’t be admitted in the club. I said wow, so I would be turned away? He said, “No, not you. You look exotic.” Coming from two Brooklyn-bred parents, I was taken aback. Well what’s regular then? I remembered the days of being awkward and overlooked but I always had people in my life who helped to shape my personal image of myself into a positive one. Sounds regular to me.

We need to support one another. I shouldn’t be on the high-side of my 20’s going out to a club to hear a famous DJ announce that one shade of women are prettier than the other. After that happened it seemed like all of the women paused and put on the stank face; because we were out and we were drunk. We were fly in a multitude of shades and people like him should check their complexes at the door.

#melanated

 

Swung the Ball and Made a Touchdown

I HATE sports*. The more I expand my social media circle the more I’ve been convinced that sports never go away. Baseball is like all year round, I just know it. If it’s not football it’s basketball. If it’s not NBA basketball it’s NCAA basketball. Forbid it high school basketball starts being televised.

Men who normally talk crap about others being emotional and who take stabs at men who don’t act masculine at all times, look very terry cloth during sporting events. They’re whining, getting their blood pressure up, arguing, threatening people, and even giving the silent treatment. Sounds like a menstrual cycle to me. O_o What I don’t get is, these athletes don’t pay y’all bills but you steadily stan for them and allow them to control your feelings. But women are too emotional. Oh ok.

In my last two relationships the men didn’t care for sports. It just wasn’t interesting to them so I never fully grasped the level of intensity associated with these sporting events. Now that I’m in the loop about the impact of sports on the lives of many men I’ve been hearing that women should learn about sports as a means to get a man. I call BS. I haven’t so far been using sports as a method to get a man, so why would I have to start now?

Now, before the boxer briefs get all in a bunch, I’ll support my stance. I did say I hated sports, this is true. Do not try to teach, tell or show me anything because it will not register. You know how most of you blank out when it’s time to go shopping? Yes, that’s what I’m talking about. I will NOT watch the game with you and will probably never understand the frustration, anger or slander which ensues as a result of losses. However, I can compromise. I vow to not interfere with the sports obsession of my future boo. I’ll make sandwiches, wings, and I’ll serve chips, dip and beer. I’ll be quiet and shop with his credit card tinker on the computer when the game is on. I’ll sit and sip my drinks while he hoots and hollers with his boys over the game at the bar and I’ll even get tissues to wipe up blood after the fistfights too.

Deal?
 
 
 
*Except figure skating & gymnastics. (lol)