I’m going to keep this one short and fairly simple. If you think that you are attractive, shut up about it. If others find you attractive, I’m sure that they’ll inform you. The fact that you feel this way is fantastic, but constantly broadcasting that you feel this way about yourself will cause your head to swell, therefore making all your self-proclamations null and void. I don’t believe in low self-esteem, but I also do not endorse high self-esteem. Too much of a good thing is bad. Also, stop with the “1,000 photos of yourself in the bathroom, bedroom, club, or the backseat of a car that you don’t own” albums on Facebook. If I had that much free time, I might indulge in that past time, but I’m too busy working and trying to save the world, one blog post at a time.
Friendship was so simple in elementary school. You walked up to the person who intimidated you the least, and before asking her what her name was, you popped the question - “do you wanna be my friend?” From then on, you had each others’ back, saved each other seats at lunch, gave each other $0.50 when the other didn’t have enough money on Ice Cream Day, told each other EVERYTHING. Simple. That was real friendship. Always being there for your best friend. Then, things change…
Now, your “friends” keep tabs on everything you do. If you’re in a bind and need a couple bucks for gas to get to her house for dinner next Thursday, she reminds you that you really have to pay her back in a timely fashion. Or, you really want to tell her about the gorgeous man you met last night at the club, but last time you told her about a potential love interest, she rolled her eyes and told you how classless it is to meet men at a disco. After she threw that crap at you, you promptly reminded her that it is 2010 and no one goes to the “disco” anymore (insert eye roll here).
Friendships have become so high maintenance. You can’t just go over to your so-called BFF’s apartment unannounced and borrow her Loubies without asking anymore. She never had a problem with you borrowing her Polly Pocket hair brush to use on your puppy back in 2nd grade. You can’t tell your friend that you were involved with a certain someone without her crinkling up her nose in disgust and judging you for believing in free love. She’s the one that told you cooties didn’t exist when y’all were 10! (She lied by the way. Cooties do exist. They are called STDs).
This is why I’ve kept the same BFFs since grade school. Granted we aren’t as “tight” as we may have been back then because I escaped from Rhode Island, and people just grow up into the people they were or weren’t meant to be, but that doesn’t mean that we won’t be there for each other when needed. Life does not have to get in the way. You may not be the same exact people you were back in KinderCare, but the rules of friendship, especially the best kind, should never have to change. Even if you find your true best friends as an adult, the same rules you abode by on the playground at recess still need to be in play.
Therefoe, my fellow adults, let’s go back to the good old days and recall the “Declaration of Friendship”:
1) Listen and do not judge.
2) Have an open heart & wardrobe (there’s a party Friday night and I j’adore your black pumps - I’m jocc’n ‘em)
3) Give from your heart, soul, and wallet.
4) Above all, love your BFF unconditionally and remember that though it’s a privilege for him or her to be your friend, you are also privileged to be in their life.
I’m in that Humma jeep wit your gyel, and she wan tosh me (4x)
Ok, Drop am for the floor make that yansh shake. Chai, you for make the ground move, that’s an yansh quake I don build compound top your yansh das a yansh state Roll my puff puff on it that’s a yansh tray Chinwe, Chinwe, dont we…
My musical soul mate Bro J. and I have had many a Blackberry Messenger conversation about relationships and why women are sucky people. During one of these conversations, I presented him with one of my many dating theories entitled “The Bench”. This theory enables both men and women to date as much or as little as they wish without ever getting bored. Below, I present to you my bench theory…
Think of your relationship as a basketball team. Say you have 11 players total on your team. There are only five on the court at a time, but remember, the FIRST 5 on the court are your starters. The remaining 6 are on the bench.
"The Starters" -
The Point Guard: This is the MVP of your dating life. This could be your boyfriend or your main squeeze. This is the person you dedicate most of your free time to. The Point Guard gets the HOURS long convos, the gifts on holidays, the immediate return of phone calls, texts, BBMs, e-mails, etc., the dates, and the goodies (if you’re choosing to give them up; I don’t judge you, I don’t know your life). This is the one you have to be faithful to. Just because there are other players on your team, does not mean you can decide to have more than one player hold the same exact position simultaneously. The Point Guard is the player you are exclusive with, after all, he was your #1 draft pick and he didn’t come cheap, so you want to make sure he doesn’t decide to become a free agent and leave your behind yearning for a championship “ring on it.”
The Power Forward: Now, this player could potentially become the Point Guard one day, if said Point Guard gets to acting all Hollywood and starts thinking he’s “irreplaceable”. (Yes, I quote Beyonce because she is my role model. Say something.) Your Power Forward is the person that you probably would’ve pursued if you hadn’t already signed your star. Even though he is a VERY close 2nd, you never ever treat him like he’s the MVP. Someone already has that job, and this “game”, for lack of a better metaphor, is all about R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Though you aren’t allowed to go on dates or deliver “goodies” to your P.F., you can’t neglect him, so, text him weekly, just to say “hello & goodbye” quickly. You can call him, but keep the conversations to a max of 20-25 minutes. If you find this to be a problem, then talk Monday-Friday before 9pm, cut the chitchat short and blame it on not having many more anytime minutes. Remember, keep your P.F. close enough that he and his neighbors know your name, but far enough that his neighbors don’t know your license plate number.
The Other Guard and Forward: They’re no MVP Point Guard, but you’ve considered getting with them a time or two, not at the same time of course. Oh, you knew that? Good. Heck, does it really hurt to have a Plan C and/or D? No! Hell. No. These players are like your “safety” schools or “Justins”. You applied to them “Justin” case you didn’t get into Cornell with your 3.99 GPA, or Northeastern rejected you and that little school in Kentucky welcomed you with open arms, a full ride and free housing. You know you’ll probably never have to look at the Kentucky school’s brochure, but you save their unread e-mails in your inbox “Justin” case. These players don’t really get texts from you, though you reply to theirs when you feel like it. They do, however, get a “Happy Birthday” wall post on Facebook.
Center: Typically in real basketball, the Center is the tallest player on the court who gets all the REBOUNDS (you see it already, I’m positive that you do). This is also the case in “The Bench Theory.” He doesn’t literally have to be the tallest player on your team, but he should be the most visible apart from your P.G. He’s a good friend that your P.G. knows, but you never have “potential relationship” talk with him because it’s not like that. I mean, maybe, if you were really under the influence of passion, and you were BOTH SINGLE, then perchance sparks might flash for a second and could POSSIBLY lead to something, but this is something that is thought by both of you, never spoken. Why? Because he’s just there to look at; just in case your P.G. dips and your P.F. has been signed as the P.G. on another coach’s team, he would be the PERFECT rebound. Note here: DO NOT use the other Guard or Forward as rebounds because they are 3rd and 4th in line to becoming your P.G. in the future if need be. The center probably can’t ever be your P.G. because he’s too tall and the other teams will look at y’all crazy.
"The Bench" -
Now, THESE Negroes are all from that community college with the commercials on TV. They can be ex’s you dated way back when, former co-workers or classmates, a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend. You need to make sure that the dudes on the bench are guys you don’t come across in your day-to-day life. The only time you communicate with each other is when YOU want to or fate decides to link y’all. They will never be starters, and quite frankly, you can swap them out whenever you feel fit, because you’re probably on their bench as well. The only reason you have them around is because, hey - injuries happen.
Now, a lot of people will read this and think, “Well gosh darn, E. This is some player type philosophy right here.” To that I say, don’t hate the players, hate the coach’s former team. The only reason I have this theory is because I’ve been BURNED before when it comes to relationships. It is a way to protect myself. Nowhere in this theory do I advocate deceit, disrespect, or infidelity. If you are a great coach, you’ll play the right players without disrespecting, embarrassing, or hurting anyone, including yourself. One day, when I meet that man who puts me second (I’m after God, Amen!), and makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world who matters to him, I’ll abandon my basketball metaphor and adopt my tennis themed law. Until then, sign up for the draft. I’m taking dudes right out of college… Division I, of course.
…and then there was E, and He saw that she was good. No, excellent. Since I’m making this up, let’s upgrade me.
Let me begin by informing you that I am never in my right mind, nor am I in my left. I accepted my insanity a long time ago and I don’t want help. Life is more fun this way.
I’m blogging for one reason only - money. I figure that if I put my mind to it, like really hard, someone might pay me to write a whole bunch of rubbish on the internet. Smart, right? I know. I’ve already patted myself on the back, so don’t worry yourself. Thanks for offering though.
So what’s the 411? Ask Mary J. Blige. I can only tell you about myself. I’m a Nigerian that was born in Rhode Island. I’m fluent in 2 languages: English & silence. I’m a reformed serial dater. I’m a right-wing conservative and a left-wing liberal; I’m not a centrist. People who consider themselves “somewhere in between” are indecisive. Get some bass in your voice, allow your balls to descend, and pick a side. Geez.
That’s pretty much all I’m willing to share with you right now because I can feel you getting nosey. However, since I’m doing this blogging thing now, you can get your E fix whenever I feel like giving it to you. When I do decide to give it to you, I’ll most likely write about fashion, my ex-boyfriend(s?), my sexy ass current boyfriend, current events, and what it’s like to grow up in a low-income Samoan community- I’ll have to interview someone for that particular post (making mental note).