Sick Day + Date Details

Hey blog fam.

I'd like to first thank you lovely ladies--antithesis, Experience, and QQ--for your suggestions. I just got back from Walgreens and I'm stocked with Theraflu, tea, orange juice, and vitamen C. I emailed my professor for the class that my big paper is due in, asking if I could email submit it because I wasn't feeling well enough to come to class. Instead she told me that I could just turn it in 'whenever I felt better'. I was stoked because I definitely woke up at 7 this morning to finish the paper that was due at 11. Now, I don't have to bull shit it at all, and can finish it up with a clearer head.

Yeah, I've gotten progressivly within the past 24hrs. Yesterday started off cool, but once I got off of work, the sickness returned. Not to mention the fact that I had a date to go on. I know they say the only way to really get over a cold is to get lots and lots of rest, which I never do. So, today I emailed all my professors to get excused from class so that I can spend the day sleeping and doping myself up with Theraflu. I emailed my boss too, but I'm waiting to hear back from him. Hopefully, I can get the night off because that would mean a full 24 hours of rest time. *Crosses fingers*

Now. About the date. I met this guy last Friday when my friend and I bar hopped all night. He approached me very respectfully and asked if he could by me a drink. Sidenote: I was already offered free drinks for the night by this hot bartender who coincidently turned out to be this guys room mate and friend. I'm telling yall, this bartender could've been the most beautiful male specimen I'd ever seen upclose. He looked like a biracial Brad Pitt--I'm not even lying. He had blue eyes and fair skin, but this dark, curly hair. We were making googly eyes at each other, when his room mate stole his thunder and started "buying" me drinks he had already offered me. Oh wellsies.

Huuuuuge tangent but Hottie Bartender was sex on a stick. Anyway, me and this guy had a few drinks, danced, and chatted for a while. It was fun. At the end of the night, he asked me if he could call me sometime and I gave him my number. He said, "Promise not to forget me, because I'm really gonna call you". I guess he thought I was drunk but I wasn't. He called me the following Monday asking if I'd like to get together Wednesday after work. I agreed.

Now, even though I blogged about this date Tuesday evening, why the hell did I almost totally forget the next day? I think I'm so used to guys flaking on me that I unconciously pushed the entire date out of my mind. He calls me at 6:30, telling me he got out of class early and asking if I wanted to push our dinner plans up an hour early? I'm sitting there in my PJs, eating a bowl of Ramen noodles, and typing my paper--clearly I didn't have plans on going anywhere--but I told him we could. He offered to pick me up but I'm kind of paranoid about strangers knowing where I live. He could turn out to be some crazed stalker. Y'all know how white boys can be (oh, did I forget to mention he's white?) lol j/k (not really). Instead of him picking me up, we met at the resteraunt--Flat Top Grill.

He showed up on time, smelling fresh, and looking presentable. These are probably givens, but after my disaterous date with Mr. Womp, I've come to appreciate these things. We, of course, got 'the what are yall doing together' looks. We probably did look like we weren't even from the same planet but we just ignored the stares. I won't go into the details of the date, but I have to say, I really enjoyed myself. The conversation was easy and unforced. He was a gentleman but not to the point of trying too hard. And most importantly, he footed the bill. I say this is important because, in the infamous case of Mr. Womp, he asked me on a date and I ended up paying. You'd better believe I came prepared with my debit card this time, but he made it clear from the beginning that I could get what I wanted and he'd pay the bill.

He wanted to take me salsa dancing at the bar Hottie Bartender works at (*swoon*) but I told him I needed to get back to finish my paper. He walked me back to my apartment and we called it a night. He leaned in for a good night smooch but I had to give him a good 'ole church hug instead. Sidenote: Besides the fact that I don't kiss on the first date anyway, I was literally afraid to do it. I've been kissing the same person for over a year now. I don't even know if I know how to kiss someone else. That's what happens when your ladyhood gets used to a particular manhood, if you know what I mean...I think you do.

I can't say for sure whether or not I'm attracted to this guy in "that way", but I did enjoy myself and would definitely go out with him again. He was outgoing, respectful, and courteous. The date was everything it should've been (by my standards) and I have to give him his props for bringing his A Game.

Now, I'm off to down some Theraflu. Hopefully by the time you hear from me again, I'll be back to normal.

xo,
bloggal

Game Over.

Just thought I'd warn you that this post has no order. I'm just ranting. Just saying.

Well, I think I just about bombed my Art History final today. I studied all day and all night for it yesterday. Even woke up early this morning to get a little extra studying in before the exam. And then I get there...Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

It was one of those exams where I had to basically guess what would be on it. Everything from Roman architecture to Christian iconography could appear. Obviously, I didn't to test my luck and only focus on one thing. So I did a survey of everything. Only problem was, it didn't all stick like it should've. And, as luck would have it, everything I decided to skimp on, because it seemed so unlikely to be on the test, was there. Every single question.

So much for that 3.8...

Sigh.

Yesterday I reread the post I made a couple of days ago. You know, the one about the Facebook note. I was reading my own commentary within the post and in response to some of your comments and couldn't help but say, "Oooh...that wasn't nice." I had the mind to delete it, but decided against that because I never delete posts, unless they're too personal. So I left it. But then today, I got a few email notifications from a rare/new commenter. I don't know if this was his first time coming through, but what he left in response to "What Do These B**** Want From a N****" was: Such venom in here. Too much venom.


Now, it didn't bother me that this commenter didn't particularly care for our/my venom, because I still maintain that this blog is a place of free expression. So, I'll continue to say what I want here, and I encourage you gals (and guys) to do the same. What disturbed me was the fact that he was right. There was alot of venom. But what disturbed me even more was how much of it was on my end.

I've been really angry lately. Like, really, really angry. And not just at the world in general, because we all have those moments where we hate the world and everything in it (...right? lol). I thought long and hard about what's been causing me alot of strife lately and it hit me. MEN.

I've been hearing so many stories about men being...men. Lying, cheating, mistreating, abusing, abandoning, flaking, heartbreaking...I've seen so many strong women cry. I've cried myself. And it just makes me angry.

"The good ones screw you. The bad ones screw you. And the rest don’t know how to screw you." ~Sex and the City

You expect it when bad men do bad things. But when "good" men do it too, it just leaves a sense of hopelessness. Like, wow. Are there any decent ones left in the world?

Notice I'm using the word men and not boys? "I'm done talking to boys. I'm looking for a MAN". You know what I'm starting to realize? There's really no difference. Maybe I'm being too general here, but man or boy, most don't seem to know what they want.

He's 21 and she's 20. They were together for four years. She's a very beautiful young woman. She attends one of the top two schools in the country. And she's an incredibly devoted girlfriend. She just got out of school for the semester and decided to surprise her boyfriend at his. She bought a plane ticket, flew from Chicago to Florida...and caught him with another girl.

Oh, and did I mention he was a nice guy?

Now, I'm not even about to rant about men or bash them. It's not even worth it. I will say this though: When you hurt my friends, you hurt me. And I'm just...disappointed. Very disappointed.

Honestly, I feel like quitting. I feel like I'm holding my breath for a "good" one. I feel like he doesn't exist.

I'm just ready for this school year to be over. I'm ready to be home with family and old friends. I know getting away from school won't make a difference. Bad guys will be bad guys. And nice guys will be bad guys too. But, I don't know. There's just something about being around family that makes me not care so much.

The Madonna/Whore Complex

A man with a Madonna-Whore complex is one who will sleep with and lust for a sexual and beautiful woman, but he will never respect her as "wife" material or marry her. In his eyes, she is tainted, impure, unworthy of the status of wife---yet he may possess passionate and contradictory feelings for her. He may even be in love with her but will never allow himself to be with her in any real sense. He will look for a "good girl" to marry---usually a woman who is cold sexually but, for example, is good at "wifely" domestic things: cooking, cleaning, homemaking in general, etc. A proper, pure "madonna" type woman who will bear his children. -Urban Dictionary.com

So, I know you guys are wondering: Which are you, Bloggal?

Well, this may come as a total shock (heheh) but based on this criteria, I'm definitely the "whore."

But lets, from now on, refer to this as something other than the Madonna/Whore Complex, so as not to offend any other "whores" who are sensitive to that word...Let's call it The Good Lover, Bad Mother Complex.

Brace yourselves for a little TMI. I'm not ashamed to divulge my "number" (and you shouldn't be either). I've been with four guys eversince I first became sexually active. But even before I lost my virginity, I was already very aware of my sexuality. So, when I had sex for the first time, it all came very naturally. Granted, it took me a little practice in the technique department, but I inherently knew what it would take to leave my partner satisfied. With every guy I've been with since then, I've gotten better and better at what I do.

While the guys were all appreciative of the special attention I gave them, there always seems to be a downside. The trend was usually that we dated for a while, I gave him amazing sex, and then he'd eventually dip to hook up with a more "wholesome" chick. A girl who seemed less "out there", less frank about her sexuality. A pure, virginal girl. One who made him wait a little longer. Or one whose resistance made her that much more desirable.

Now, I'm not saying that the reason most of my long/short-term relationships ended was just because the guys I was dating thought I was too much of a freak to take seriously. But there is a definite correlation there. It's a shame we live in such a close minded society where a woman who knows how to handle her business in the bedroom is thought to be impure, or unfit for mother/wifehood. That's some super prehistoric shit right there. Since when does a woman's sexuality dictate her parental and matronly abilities? I'm one of the most devotional and nurturing people you'll ever meet. But apparently that doesn't matter in a culture wracked with societal double standards.

I'm not gonna lie, I used to let it get to me. And sometimes, it still does. Sometimes I feel like, in order to be respected and taken seriously, I'd have to suppress my sexuality. Appear to be a prude who's all icky about sex, and then maybe they'd want to stick around. But then I realize that I like sex far too much for that shit. I know I have alot going from me. It should be known that, while I'm good in bed, I also make a really great girlfriend. I'm Loving. Loyal. Passionate. Supportive. But at the same time, I know how to keep things interesting. If a guy was smart, he'd stick with chick like me.

So, if being a good lover makes me a whore, I take it as a compliment.

Dating 101: The Truth About Why Men Cheat

I always see these little stories featured on Yahoo since it's been my homepage for so long. I never click on them, but this one caught my eye.

Out of 200 men surveyed:

48% of men rated emotional dissatisfaction as the primary reason they cheated.
66% of cheating men report feeling guilt during the affair.
77% of cheating men have a good friend who cheated.
40% of cheating men met the other woman at work.
Only 12% of cheating men said their mistress was more physically attractive than their wife.
Only 6% of cheating men had physical intimacy with a woman after meeting her that same day or night.

There's a full article, but I'm only posting the statistics because I found them the most interesting. Click here for the entire story.

I'm actually shocked that so many guys feel guilty (66%) during the affair. I'd like to say that I'm surprised that only 12% of the men said their mistresses were more attractive than their wives. But I'm not. Don't know what it is, but alot of times guys seem to downgrade in physical appearance when they cheat. That's what happened to me. WTF's up with that? I'd semi understand if the chick was hotter than me. But when she's got a busted face/body/attitude, I take that shit even more personally lol.