Bitch Re-certification.

If you were living under a rock between summer 07 and graduation c/o 08 from NCSU, then that's the only reason I can fathom as to why you wouldn't know this book. At one point or another my girls and I have all been cornered by the other and told to "think like a BITCH!" In moments of dummy weakness when it comes to playing the game. My biggest fault is that I speak bitch (better than I speak English, to be honest) in every situation except for in relationships. (Also, let's remember, I don't date.)

The last 2-3 weeks have made for an eerie junior highschool-esque experience for me and a certain new male friend who I'd love to name or nick name but won't.....yet.

The days of sluttin and trickin are left on Genwood ave., PB's & EV's porches. Its time in my life, I'm 24 for chrissake, to try this crazy thing people call dating. So... I'm revisiting the original, gold standard "Why Men Marry Bitches" and will keep y'all posted on what I'm learning. Knowledge is Power, y'all...


Thanks, SM for demanding that I re-read this, instead of acting like a dickhead.



33M4ZV4AAHEZ

It's Time to Talk About the Banker.

I'm going to try to divulge a little more here now in 2010. I get e-mails from yall asking questions about things I've posted and I wonder to myself, "why didn't I just explain that shit in the post"

Because of the aforementioned trend, I figured it's time to address the whole deal with the Banker. I can't really give a play by play because I'd be exhausted and you'd be annoyed... but the condensed version:

The banker is a great guy, with a couple carry-on sized bags of luggage. Me? I'm a dope chick.... I'm carrying a couple trunks. Oh well, that's life blah blah. Add in a sprinkle of bad timing, a dash of self-sabatoge, a pinch of too-many-outside-opinions, all mixed up in a Cool Hand Luke- sized "failure to communicate" and you pretty much can paint the picture.

All of that happened in 2009, and you know, eff that year, it's 2010 bitches! So I figure instead of going backwards, why not start with a little disclosure on the current state of affairs:

A lesson from boss bitch 101-- keep it movin.
If it's done it's done, when you're resolved, you're resolved. My old self (pre- New York) was cold-blooded in how I played the game.... I mean like, No phone-number-storing, ignore-you-all-night, never-respond-to-your-text, kick-you-out-cuz-this-bitch-don't-cuddle, forget-your-face-I-swear-I- will, type of stuff. So when I cut things off with the Banker right before finals because in Old Self's mind I was gonna go home for break, get over him in 10 days, then come back here, newly iceboxed and ready to continue in my don't love them, please leave them way of life. Well, let me just say. I have dug down real deep. I mean... real deep. And I can barely find even a hint of the Bad Bitch that used to live inside. Where is she? I don't know. But instead of taking a minute to evaluate the situation, I just figured If I can feign Boss mindset, the soon it will come back.

I could maintain the boss attitude for a little while. Like, I'd be spouting off to my girls, detailing how I'm "icing this muhfugga out all week" or how I'm "on to the next one" or how "I deleted ALLLLLL his shit." you know.... standard boss talk.....But what would I ALSO do?? creep on the down low. text, calls, emails, still all "boo's & babe"..... Pretty much fail.

I can't exactly quit. I just cannot walk away with my middle finger in the air. And I (was) completely baffled.

I mean, when it comes down to it, what I really think is that something is very different with my banker-friend and I. The big thing is that I true life care about the kid. And to be honest, that's a lot harder than not giving a fuck. Unfortunately "Sorry, I actually like you" isn't really an appropriate or coherent way to break things off with someone. Idk if y'all knew that or not....

This leads me to my 2nd 2010 resolution: Try a little.

Seems a bit vague, but I know what it means. for one-- it would be cool to take a risk or two, you know, with the feelings. Try and at least find a door for which someone could enter, if I can't completely lower the guard.... right? Really, the bankers best friend called me a couple nights ago and pretty much staged a one man intervention. Very intense, but it was sort of a good thing.

I was talking to a fellow Boss, Bateman. We often commiserate in the rediculousness of how a year ago thoughts/feelings/behaviors would have never even crossed our minds. This past week we swapped advice on everything from date outfits, to how to be less aloof. The best, by far was when we both admitted to trying on our respective man-friend's last names (hyphenated, of course). I mean, whatever, no biggie in real life.... but a biggie for a Boss.

Boss Bitch mentality? As K.Beau would say "great idea in theory, bad idea in practice." I don't want to be an Icebox anymore. but I don't want to be a stupid girl either. What I do know is that maybe I'll have to evolve, and evolution takes a lot of time. And a lot of the fittest just figuring out how to survive....

baby steps, y'all.

Venus vs Mars: on Communication.

I mentioned that in my brief time away, I would randomly think of things I wanted to write on my blog, I'd start the post, then just save it as a draft. Well, all of those stories/snippets/I'm sorry for partying/life lessons, have turned in to a lil somethin' somethin' I'm going to call "Venus vs Mars." Why? a) When Jay-z's Blueprint 3 came out, banker and I heard that song, resolved it was written about is and geeked out about it for about 2 weeks. b) over the weeks, I have had numerous "oh, word??" moments with the Banker. You know what I'm talking about.... like, something happens that is good for the gander (read: NOT good for the goose) and ALL I can think is "Oh, wooorrrddd????" Like, this is so not gonna work. For like... me. At all.

As these little situations have come and gone, I have had time to reflect on them, on me, on girls in general. You know, all that "self-awareness" that I am learning at school (see how applicable it all is??) Figured I would share them because really as far as you know, all I do in New York is stand around taking pictures of myself in clothes/whine about being busy/listen to songs with awkward love undertones. Not (completely) true. I just hit my 100th post the other day, and figure anyone who still reads should be privy to a little more inside information. Lets see how many of you are left when I get to the 200th post.... so, here goes:

In the inaugural post of this nature, I'll hit you with the most recent.

Venus vs Mars--- Communication.


Allow me to set up the scene:

[End of September]

Me: Banker, my schedule in November is totally erratic. I'm going home the first weekend for a wedding, my mom's gonna come up for like a week, You know, I'll leave for Thanksgiving....
Banker: How do you fill up your whole November when it's September?
Me: I don't know... but we're like, never gonna see each other.
Banker: It will be fine, I usually go on Vacation in November, this year I'm thinking Barbados, maybe Cabo.
Me: What.
Banker: I'm not going to forget about you because I'm going on vacation.

Whats wrong here?? In theory, nothing at all. In fact, I'll give the boy snaps for picking up on the mini freak out I had when he mentioned "Cabo" (in my defense, I think it was a reflex! Seriously, though...who the eff is like, "hey, boy-I-wanna-date, please, run as fast as you can to Sodom and Gamorrah-- no worries here." Please.) In the conversation above, indeed: Whats Good for the Goose, is Good for the Gander.

Lets come back to this little scenario: [last week]
sidebar: This is about day 12 of mess. Schedules are all over the place, he's doing ~60hrs a week, I'm waking at 5:00am and going to bed at 1:00am. It's an all around sucky crap-tastic time.

Me: Banker, I'm gonna be up for another couple of hours, you wanna call me here now in a few so I can take a break. (a text, obviously)
Banker: Can we talk tomorrow?? I'm half way to being asleep..... I'm sorry, Goodnight babe.

[here is the 10 minute window of angry silence that translates as "no text back"]

Banker: ?? hello?
Me: well, you know I'm going home on Thursday, and when I get back my mom is here for the week. I have no clue when we're gonna hang out, what, in December? [this is the blog-better version of my text back. the REAL one was full brat mode. but, for self-preservation, I've edited it. At least I admitted it though....]
Banker: I'm going to Barbados next week.

And: I promptly call SM, which is crazy because I don't like talking on the phone. Mid-SOS phone call the Banker Beeps in.

We talked, we mended. All is well. But let me break it down:

*Boys and Girls are different. Very different. Not the same at all. And sometimes, no matter how wonderful everything else is, the fundamentals can get a little messy. Take communication: Banker figured I remembered he took vacation in November. Yea, I remember him saying it, but I had no clue in real life. Me, I wanna know things like "Hey, I'm thinking of going on holiday, ________ week" or "I just got tickets for vacation!" Little update are nice. Being in the loop is GOOD FOR THE GOOSE. If the Goose is happy, the Gander is happy! Isn't this a basic concept?


The only way this is even remotely tolerable, aside from my ride-or-die girls, is the Banker himself. I am fortunate to have a nice boy like the banker. The little (and not so little) hiccups are made that much easier because he isn't a jackass. In fact, most of the time when these Venus vs. Mars differences occur, I am ready to peace out. I'm a quitter sometimes, I'll confess. My friends (who are all "team Banker" as they so readily remind me) are quick to give me some perspective: Good guys are few and far between. Banker is no angel-- but he always tries. I means, lets be honest, I'm not Sandra Dee. I'm more of a Rizzo. And that can be a lot of fun, until it's not fun anymore more, I'm sure. Basically, the only way to fight is to fight fair, and, a lot of the time, all a girl needs to here is "I'm sorry." It seriously wins 1/2 the battle. So, take that little pearl (little brother of mine, I know you're reading...)

I share this story specifically because I know how to do a lot of things, and the things I can't do, I can fake it til I make it. Except for dating. I don't do it. It's like, pointless and annoying and I can't stay still long enough to bother with it all. So I've just played the game my own way for the past 4 years or so. I'm Boss Bitch at being single, complete 5th grader at dating. I remember before I moved, good ole Grace told me that as soon as I met a guy that was worth it I'd give in a little. And, as my friend Kells would say "You're little ice box is more of a slushie now." I think about one of the final scenes in The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, and how his heart great 3x bigger after hearing the people of Who-ville sing. Not comparing myself to the Grinch, obviously I'm not out dicking people over, left and right.... I guess I wanna find the happy medium between Boss Bitch and Stupid Girls, and I suppose now is a good time to figure it out.