Monthly Archives: May 2014

Today’s Word is… OH


Its a couple years back, I’m at like a Macy’s with my boy, he’s going off about some chick he’s dating.  I make some joke about how latinas be keeping box cutter blades in their cleavage

“I thought it was the mouth”

We turn around, it’s two women, one white and one of Hispanic descent. 

“Where do you keep yours”

“Keep making jokes you’ll find out”

This isn’t the story about how I got sliced up in a department store rather how I met…I think I named her CC in an earlier post. (this is #210 i forget things).  So yada yada yada, I’m dating/talking to CC now…

…or so I thought.

We texted frequently, went out on dates, slept with each other, but one day I look on Facebook and she’s hugged up with another man.


Well that’s interesting.  Of course, I inquire about this guy and how he hasn’t come up in our conversations, she explains he’s someone she talks to, like me, but he ain’t her man either so keep calm and come thru later.  That night I’m on my way home from her crib (don’t judge me, judge your auntie) a bit confused about what I been doing the past few months?  You mean I was single this whole time?  Throw on that Mark Morrison, its the Return of the Mack.


Well not really, ain’t nobody want my ass.  But I did start seeing other people outside of CC; took a page out of her book, I’m single until clearly stated otherwise.  One day I was out with I think it was “Ms Wit”, I get a text from “Her”, she heard through the grapevine I was at the mall with some chick #streetsiswatching.  I tell her that her intel is correct, last I checked I was single so she needn’t fret.


Oh; that realization that in spite of all the sweet nothings and assumed loyalty, they are not yours until you explicitly state so.  The realization sets at different times, some more often than others, in my examples it was stated rather bluntly but more commonly, it comes when they are claimed by someone else while you was asleep at the wheel.  Its the dark side of tolerationships, situationships, frielationships and any other term for gray area dating.  Relationships aren’t defined by feelings, they are by expectations. I could care about you, even love you but you’re not mine and I’m not yours until we talk that talk. 

The gray area is convenient, in an era of increased technology and ways to communicate you don’t realize how many hours you’re investing in someone who isn’t and possibly never will be yours.   I’ve got hit with a few “Ohs”. Entertaining myself cordial exes and boos and when something real comes along they have no need to play pretend with me anymore.   I can charge that to the game; if I liked it then I should’ve put a ring on it (c) B.G. Carter-Knowles, and I didn’t.  Maybe I didn’t want her as much as my ego is trying to convince me I do now…


Plenty of times me and CC could’ve had a talk about what it was we were doing, neither of us was concerned.  Me and “Her” knew we reached our climax but we were equally petty so we kept sabotaging each other.  I look back on all the pseudo relationships I had and when I think about why they never took that next step, turns out I just didn’t want to.  I’ll get jealous, maybe a little hurt, but then the cognizance sets in that if I knew better, I’d do better, and I did nothing.




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Today’s Word is… PROBLEMS



How do I……

Say goodbye……

to what we haaaaaaad.

So for reasons unknown, I pulled up to my photobucket and the pictures missing.  Nothing too great (pictures salvaged from Myspace days newds, more newds, and some other newds .  Sure I hadn’t been on Photobucket in about 8-9 years but I was gon get right back.  So I reach out and ask how I get my pictures back and they gave me a 20 point plan and well, let’s just say I’ll miss those pictures.  You see, I’m lazy.  I’m a pseudo-millenial, the age where I still own floppy disks for some reason and I can share photos with “Reine” by high fiving our phones together (new castmember alert).  Like most people in this demographic, we have tech privilege, we have no idea how or why certain things work the way they do (okay I know a lil bit) but we just want things to….work.  When they don’t, we’ll vent about our first world problems to thousands or millions of strangers and they’ll respond because they get it.   I’m unapologetic about my tech privilege and my first world problems, there’s hundreds of things that annoy me that probably shouldn’t but let me be great.  I got problems yo…

1. My favorite diner is still cash only, I even explained Square to them and they still wont do it (I did convince the local ice cream parlor, I just realized Im making this random company money for free)

1b. and one of their founders keeps  taking @Tristan screenname, i hate when people have screennames I want, MY NAME IS MY NAME (c) Marlo Stanfield.

2. I hate I pay Hulu $8/month to still play ads during my shows

3. I hate when sites try to make me sign in with social media

4. I hate articles that are only in slideshow form

5. Why do I have to keep more making complex passwords, #fixitjesus

6. I used to get channels clear as day with the wire from a notebook now I got to pay for HD or my picture looks like shit

7. Why do smartphones keep improving the back camera and not the front

8. They’re going to make hoverboards when I’m too old to be on a hoverboard and Ima be pissed

9. If I’m going to lose service on the subway, can I get some WiFi then?

10. Cant turn a bad song good but when a good song gets thumbed down its gone forever

11. I cant name my Galaxy “Jarvis”

12. The Galaxy S5 has a different charger when I got so used to the micro USB

13. I caught up on a show on Netflix now I gotta watch commercials like a savage

13b. I DVRed the show so I can fast forward but now my timeline is full of spoilers

14. I’m writing this post on my phone and people keep texting me

15. I’m so overwhelmed by Spotify, I still haven’t made my own playlist

16. Illegally downloading books should be much easier than it is

17. I had to clear my cache and now I have to type out websites

18. I can still hear the world with these earbuds

19. One day I was in the bathroom while I was on the phone and the automatic toilet gave me away

20. I posted this picture during off peak hours and now its never going to get the likes it deserves

21. No Facebook, I wont download that messenger app

22. These apps had all night to update now it wants to download when I’m doing something

23. #GoogleChromeforPS4

24. My phone died when I was out so now I only have memories of the Yeezus tour or the World Series, pssh memories cant even download them

24b. Actually, i changed my mind downloading memories sounds like the premise of a bad Tom Cruise movie

24c. Tom Cruise wont stop making these bad Sci Fi movies

25. Why do cell phones die but McDonalds meat don’t

The struggle is real (inconsequential).   I feel no shame these things bother me, I mean there’s more pressing sh t going on but what affects my day to day life is Netflix buffering, shorts in phone chargers and not having WiFi access.  (I mean sure there’s racism, violence, patriarchy, bigotry but this is supposed to be a lighthearted post so allow me to feign ignorant for a day).  And right now my Bluetooth speakers won’t sync with my tablet…..HOW SWAY?


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Today’s Word is… WORKHUSBAND


I’m walking downstairs from my place, in the entry hallway, a black car I don’t recognize pulls up in front.  Music blaring, I stand on the porch to see who it is, out steps “She”, she grabs her bag, cackling a storm.  At this point I’m just standing there, I had somewhere to go but I was put off by the situation, thought she wasn’t off for another 2 hours, wait…did she know I was going to be here…..Nah she’s knows better.  She interrupts my thoughts and says hi, I take her bag and kiss her deeply then give dude a head nod, because I’m petty.  Now its been about 180 seconds you’d think she introduce me to her chauffeur, he pulls off we head upstairs.  I forget what I was doing but yeah, I got questions.

“Oh you know Phuckthisdudesname, he works in security, I got out early and he gave me a ride on break, thought you would be at the gym”

Aha see I knew she didn’t think I was home, what if he was going to be invited upstairs……Nah she knows better.

Anyway, as time wore on I would hear more and more about Phuckthisdudesname, some funny story that wasn’t really funny, alluded to his frequently on her twitter (i wasn’t snooping we actually just followed eachother, I don’t believe its a big deal). I’m not really a jealous guy and I trusted her, so I would tease her with it more than actually be concerned.  I had an inkling that he did like her, not that he had a chance (he wasn’t her type and um, she had me duh).  He definitely tried it, as most work husbands do….they sneaky like that.

I said there was a double standard between workwives and workhusbands because men ideally are the pursuers.  I’ve been the #workhusband paying all the compliments he forgot to.  I see plenty of them in play at work, standing at her desk, grinning ear to ear about to ask her out to lunch, his treat.  He has some wild dating story that conveniently places him as the good guy that is only unchose because he is just too sweet.  Just this past Valentine’s Day, I got my Valentine a dozen roses, work husband her a single one, guess who was not bout to be whisked around town with a bakers dozen of roses.  Nah, yo. 

Moral of the story, #staywoke.  Got to call the Mrs at lunch because work husband trying to take her to a 2 for $20, got to leave her a couple dollars or she’s going to be bumming cigarettes (actually, don’t date smokers, bleh). Even if the work husband doesn’t size up, he represents the large portion of men who think she’s fly and doesn’t see the annoying nag with bonnet and wifebeater.  Old work (i love/hate this term, it seems rude but it humors me) is always newness to somebody.  Appreciate your lady, or #he will…..

Hell, or even I will.



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Today’s Word is… WORKWIFE


“Do I know you”

I turned around at the query. 

It was a woman I work with, not directly but we’re in the same building. 

“Um, yeah we work together.” (I mean I thought I was pretty well known there -3 for the ego). 

Anyway we chat for a bit on the train, she goes her way I go mine.  Now she knows who I be, we see eachother more often and talk regularly.  I’ve told you about CoWorker before, she’s the homie.  We’ve had our back and forths (partially convinced no woman can like me longer than 4 months at a time) but overall we’ve developed a pleasant friendship. Nothing more, nothing less. Sure, there’s a rumor or two floating, double takes when we accidentally matched or you saw one without the other, but we ain’t listen to what people say; they ain’t know about her and me. And so we put it out our minds cause it’s jealousy, they don’t know about this here.

She was just a workwife, contrary to popular belief. This arrangement wasn’t necessarily new to me, all through college I had at least one woman to serve as incentive to go there on time (also study buddies are cheaper than buying textbooks #protip). Workwives help the time go faster, moral support, they understand the struggle because they in it with you, especially helpful when you don’t give much fux about your job. A survey says about 60% of professionals in my field have copped to having some sort of work spouse (the other 40% Ima need to see gChat/Outlook receipts). It makes sense, even the most anti social person cant show up somewhere nearly every day for 8 hours a day and not make a single interpersonal relationship.


When boundaries arent set...

I’m a firm believer that men and women can be platonic friends, maturity breeds discretion; every woman who smiles at you does not need to get that work. Of course, I can beat that drum all I like, I still have to sell that to a Mrs. (Yeah yeah I hear you woman who doesn’t get jealous, is sooo cool with her man having friends, you’re an amazing unicorn). For the non unicorns its a matter of being open and setting boundaries and sticking to them. You never want to “find out” anything about someone you’re seeing that isn’t from the source. I’ve always been iffy on this notion of “emotional cheating”, there’s a difference between telling her something I should be telling my actual s/o and my s/o just wanting to be Walmart and be the go to for any and everything. I don’t even like to discuss work outside of work, sometimes I don’t want to explain an inside joke to an outsider, sometimes an objective opinion is necessary. I think that makes sense, but you know logic and love is oil and water sometimes.

Boundaries should be straight forward, don’t do couple-y shit. There’s a difference between grabbing lunch and going on a date, IMing at work and texting all night, telling a story about a date gone wrong and venting to workwife about your real one. Just like I don’t take work home, I don’t bring home to work. She’ll always be “fine” whether that is or isn’t true. Don’t start none won’t be none.

With those parameters in place, workwives are a welcome escape from the work grind. As a work husband, I try to be the same, and keep savagery to minimum. Of course thats just how I am. (Now who’s playing unicorn?). Somewhat of a double standard, but workhusbands are not to be trusted. Why? I’ll tell you why…….next post.


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Today’s Word is…. ADDICTION

Editors Note:A fitting repost….*sigh*

They say addiction is something almost uncontrollable, a feeling that engulfs your thought process as you put a short term rush ahead of long term consequences.  Personally, I don’t believe much in “addictions”, we are in control of our own lives.  Nevertheless I have alcoholics and drug addicts in my family who would protest otherwise. Whatever. That’s not where I’m going with this one, at least not today.  As I said, I don’t believe in addictions per se, however I do believe plenty of people put that short term goal ahead of long term ones.  The short term is amazing, yet brief, you never quite have enough and that’s what keeps you calling back.  By that logic, can one be addicted to love.  Can I?

It’s weird to put myself and addiction in the same sentence seeing as I don’t smoke, will be shocked if I’m still drinking beyond 30 years old, and no matter how much of a sports expert I think I am, I hate gambling.  However, I’m quite fond of love, fond of courting, fond of infatuating (is that a word, I don’t think so, y’all get the point).  The first woman not related to me that said I love you, was lying.  She said it cause I said it, I said it because that’s what kids in high school do when they date someone for a while, Cory Matthews taught me.  It was unearned basically.  I wanted her to love me, but it was something I couldn’t control.  She loved having a boyfriend, loved ending phone calls with the line, she didn’t love me. Initially I thought it was me.  I simply wasn’t worthy of love.  And so I begun to emulate those who I felt were, namely my golden tongued father.  Now years later I find myself with a pocket full of hearts I don’t want.  How did I get here?

Well I wanted each and every one at one point, and would be damned if I didn’t get them.  Sex was an added bonus, I wanted her love.  To go from a stranger, a classmate, an acquaintance to someone she loved, THAT was the penultimate goal, the high, if you will.  I too was smitten, sometimes (4 by my count), but often I look back and see I was perhaps more into the chase, the capture, the victory.  It wasn’t that I deceived Intentionally but simply…lost the spark.  Only to have it reignited by a new possibility.  Each time hoping this time will be the last time, like Whip Whittaker cleaning out the farm (sidebar “Flight” was awesome, Denzel nailed it).  Perhaps that is what qualifies me as an “addict” but if the “high” happens to be falling in love, the greatest feeling the human body can produce, is it still an addiction or rather pursuing happiness.

Addicts don’t care about lives they ruin.  I do.  The feeling I get when I know a relationship has run it’s course is a gut punch.  Sometimes I prolong the inevitable for as long as I can, maybe I was wrong, maybe this will work, I’m not like others. Addicts put the high over whatever it takes to get it, I’d like to think I never put the idea of love over the actual person.  Making one fall in love with you for no reason is a cruel joke to play on someone, no matter how amusing MTV’s “Catfish” makes it seem.  I try not to stir up emotions I don’t intend to act on.  My feelings are genuine, even if they fade.

A quick Google search shows that “love addiction” is an actual thing.  There’s counseling and books -__-.  Like I said I don’t believe in addictions, we can control our own lives.  I can easily tell myself to leave well enough alone, or even just do what I’ve been doing and not getting wrapped up in the belief I owe someone a chance.  Love addiction is almost an oxymoron, love is beautiful and pure, it’s only an affliction depending on who you choose to give it to.  In my case, I’m falling for for the wrong ones or the wrong ones are falling for me, I’m not addicted to love, I’m just inquisitive about possibilities.  Even if I’m 0/638.





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Today’s Word is… FRUGAL

“Now how you going to talk about the way I spend my money
Everybody say it with me now: it’s my money” – Kanye Omari West

My pops is the most frugal man I know.  It’s a thin line between frugal and cheap and he’s a damn tightrope expert.  I never knew how much he made or how’d he pull off Christmas for all his kids but the man got it done.  When he said “he was broke” we always sideeyed him and whatever new outfit or jewelry he was flaunting. Now don’t get me wrong we weren’t the Huxtables but off my Pops efforts, we stayed comfortable.  As an adult, I live the same way, I’m not strug life and I’m not balling, I’m comfortable.  I’ve come to master the ball on a budge; I don’t need Madden in August, I’ll cop it at Christmas time, I’m not really a big Jordan guy, I have dozens of casual kicks, when I shop online there’s almost always another tab open to look up coupon codes.  When I do splurge it’s on holidays and relatively well planned, I mean, I kinda do that for a living after all.  Looking over my budget, just about every unexpected expense comes from family and dating.  Family is a given priority but when it comes to dating, you can’t exactly plan for it.  It’s spontaneous, you can walk outside and meet someone who is going to cost you at least $120 next weekend.  You get a new lady in your life you don’t go that extra week without that haircut, you was going to do laundry next week but you need something to wear Wednesday night, that gas in the tank for work was used going across town to get some ass.  You never really know.  

So the other day on Twitter, someone from Sigma Zeta Bodypillow Inc went on a rant about using Groupons on dates.  Jigga what?  You do know that 3 weeks ago I had no intentions of my paycheck going to feed you right?  Your homegirl did your hair for free, you bought your outfit on clearance but somehow your perceived value is based on how much I am willing to spend.  Cool.  Like I said, there’s a thin line between frugal and cheap. I have three golden rules when it comes to using Groupon or the like on dates.


1. No Surprises: It is about presentation. Now, busting out a clipped out coupon that’s expired and you don’t even have enough to pay is one thing; using a Groupon have the reservation booked and the deal honored and added to the check and she has no idea is another. (Also ladies, if you ain’t paying stop touching the damn check, the cost of your meal is “paid for” that’s all you need to know, and don’t worry how much I tipped the waitress).  If that’s that possible, then the next go to move is to just keep it 100 about the 50% you about to save on the evening.  “I got this groupon for X it’s about to expire, do you wanna….” There’s no surprises and if she’s gonna be one of those people who brings up the fact that you wouldn’t ask her out if not for the coupon, she probably read 10 dating books and follows @AskCheyB on Twitter. Run. Fast. 

2. Events > Meals: Somewhat of a theory of mine that no one notices how much activities cost as much as meals.  Restaurants, you sit, order, eat and they literally tell you how much this experience cost monetarily.  Doing activities, no one puts as much stock in.  I’ve gone to free events and I’ve used deals and the experience was all the same.

3. First Impressions Matter: The first date is probably not the best time to be using coupons.  I’ll avoid when I can but sometimes a deal is just too good to pass up so she will deal, Deal? (Triple entendre don’t eem ask me how).  





It can all be so simple. But when it comes to dating, a lot of stock is put into perceived value, how much effort is he about to put in. Will he call and ask you out or just text? Is he going to pay or go Dutch? Knock on your door or text “I’m here”. Understandably you don’t know the person so actions speak louder than words. However I never looked at how much I spend as some sort of reference to how important someone is or isn’t. I’m a traditionalist, I’m paying even if I don’t like you, whether the bill is $80 or $14 the fact I spent time with you is the true indication. This notion is if you cant break bread don’t date but what if he knew he wanted to get to know you before he knew what his check was looking like. Money values goods and services not feelings. My father sometimes spent more on me than my siblings or vice versa there wasn’t any favoritism. He did what he could every time and we never thought how much it cost but the fact that he did, well that was priceless.


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Today’s Word is… DESERVE


You know how things just fall into your lap when you’re not looking for it, well I think its just happened to me

Everything I’m looking for…
A fine blend of traditional and modern…
A brick house, one of would say…
Ready to take on all my shit…
From a nice part of town…
Plenty of potential…
Not much back there but the front is luxurious…

And comes with utilities.

You see I’m talking about the newest object of my fascination, a 2 BR loft in the city.  Well I was, got outbid by a newlywed couple, I hope their marriage fails, kidding, slightly.  Anyway, since I wrapped my mind around moving, suddenly my apartment feels….different.  Once you see what you can do, you never want to feel like you’re going backwards.  I make a decent enough wage to not deal with the ticky tack things here, I can do better, and I will.

That reminded me of another time; about 3 years ago, I applied for a promotion at my job. I went through the whole song and dance only to be turned down (for what).  Not long after I quit, in my mind I was already planning the pay bump, thinking about everything I hated about that job and how things would change for the better only to have the rug snatched from up under me.  I couldn’t do that anymore, I knew I could better and I did. (Well I quit for a worst job with better pay, got laid off until I got my current gig which is better than both, so it all worked out…eventually.)

Yet with relationships that I’m not that courageous.  I take what’s there before me and convince myself this is satisfactory (see post before last).  Its been in the back of my mind lately why I dont feel like I deserve XYZ.   I’ve gotten too comfortable being Prince Charming; I aim to be everything she is looking for but I don’t necessarily get what I want.  My income tells me I can get that loft in the city, my resume tells me I demand more than minimum wage, but what dictates what I deserve as a lover?   Looks, personality, stroke game, status?

A while back I talked about standards and I said there was nothing wrong with having standards, provided you hold yourself accountable to them.  Be the person you think you deserve deserves.  The other day on Twitter there was a woman dismissing Groupons (actually think thats Monday’s post) but look at her avatar, damaged hair, cheap jewelry…and of course people let her know about it, cuz Internet.  Now there was nothing wrong with her opinion but the man who’s too “rich” for Groupon (you say no to discount dates, Stanny J can’t) probably isn’t checking for her anyway.  Now bringing it all full circle, I think I’m a great guy, give or take (God ain’t thru with me yet) do I deserve #Her yet?  Hell,  does she deserve me?



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