A few weeks ago, let's just say six, I got an e-mail from an acquaintance (we'll call him Potential Suitor for now) that I met while matriculating at university. The message basically said that PS would be in town in the next week and that it would be his diststinct pleasure to escort me on a tour of the city. I thought this idea a fabulous one! I love good conversation and I knew that an outing with PS would provide a pleasant reprieve from my usual social scene. We spent nearly a week speaking to each other's voice mails before we made plans, and I spent the entire seven days fretting about something I like to call the "love polygon." If you have ever been in a love triangle (a dreadful assignment that usually ends in disaster), you can probably imagine how terrible a love polygon might be! My little situation involves more than 3 people. In fact, it involves a number more and expands each day. (For purposes of clarification, I am not describing any untoward activity. A lady such as myself would never participate in such behavior.)
Imagine, you meet a great guy in the supermarket, you exchange numbers and make plans to have a date. You are exuberantly discussing with your best girlfriend the impending meeting when she says: "What's his name, again?" "John Doe?" "They call him JD, and he attended University X? He's in fraternity A?" You close your eyes, brace yourself, and reluctantly, you answer her questions in the affirmative. You dread the unspoken words that you can already hear. She knows something about him; namely, her mock trial partner is his ex and they were practically engaged and the poor tart happens to still be in love with him. Although the ensemble you had put together for the evening is stunning, you put that dress back in the closet and take off the heels in which you had been prancing around because you know that you cannot under any circumstances go out with JD. Or can you?
I have been privy to similar scenarios at least 5 times in the past two months. Mind you, I have been a near side to quite a few love polygons myself. So, what does one do in such a situation? My mommy's well-heeded advice was to avoid spending too much time or attention on someone who is part of "such a mess." I personally dislike being placed in awkward situations, and therefore, I will likely go to great lengths to avoid this altogether in the future. However, I would be a silly girl to miss out on a romantic prospect while trying to politely avoid stepping on another girl's toes with my Christian Louboutins. Especially someone to whom I have no real ties. Believe me, I am not advocating that you date your sister's love interest or the father of your best friend's daughter. However, if the relationship between you and the other female arc in that many-angled shape is superficial... put on that demure-with-just-a-hint-of-sexy dress and your peep-toe heels, dab a bit of Vera Wang at your nape and have a fabulous time with the intersecting gentleman!
Monday, October 30, 2006
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Being called the N-word to your face?
I detest alarm clocks. I especially detest the loud, annoying sounds that alarm clocks make when they awaken me from a night of beauty rest. Therefore, I set my alarm to play the radio instead of making the beeping sound. And as I am preparing for the day, I leave the radio on, specifically on a station that has a nationally syndicated morning show that provides me with comic relief, celebrity gossip, crazy callers, news and most importantly (hey, at least I'm honest), music to which I can dance around the house naked!
On one particularly good morning, the guest on said show was Dave Chappelle. He was asked about his prolific use of the n-word on his infamouns Comedy Central television show and how he has now come to hate the use of the term. He gave the typical, "it's our word, we can use it, others can't" spiel, with which I don't necessarily disagree (I am still coming to terms with this mentality). However, he made an additional statement which caused me to take pause. According to the brilliant, if not a little nutty Chappelle, being called a "minority" in a country that was founded on the principle that the majority wins is like being called the n-word TO YOUR FACE!! Oh, Dear!!
I thought about this statement for a spell, and I came to the conclusion that being called a minority is akin to being given a backhanded compliment. And no one likes to be complimented in that manner. For example, what if that girl who just cannot come to terms with your celestial beauty and grace saunters up and says, "Girl, those shoes you are wearing were just fabulous last year?" At first glance, the comment appears to be complimentary. But, my mommy did not raise a fool; the way in which the sentence was phrased suggests that the Manolo Timbs in which you are still flitting around are no longer fashionable. Now, a true southern belle would be gracious enough to smile warmly and reply, "thank you, your shoes are cute, too." But, I digress...
Being called a "minority" is tantamount to being pegged a "loser" in America since every redblooded flag-carrying Westerner knows that the majority rules. Being designated a "minority" is like being told you will lose EVERY TIME because your race will NEVER outnumber the "majority." But, what happens when that's no longer the case?
It has been estimated that in the future, supposed "minorities" will outnumber our Caucasian counterparts. And since all we "minorities" do is procreate and leach off our noble government, this probably rings true for most. I do not have the slightest fear that rich white men will miraculously turn loose their stronghold on this country anytime soon, and therefore, quite frankly, we will someday live in apartheid conditions. If I were a less honorable woman, I would bet that at that point in time no one will be calling Mr. and Mrs. Smith "minorities." And for the record, I'm not talking about Will and Jada.
On one particularly good morning, the guest on said show was Dave Chappelle. He was asked about his prolific use of the n-word on his infamouns Comedy Central television show and how he has now come to hate the use of the term. He gave the typical, "it's our word, we can use it, others can't" spiel, with which I don't necessarily disagree (I am still coming to terms with this mentality). However, he made an additional statement which caused me to take pause. According to the brilliant, if not a little nutty Chappelle, being called a "minority" in a country that was founded on the principle that the majority wins is like being called the n-word TO YOUR FACE!! Oh, Dear!!
I thought about this statement for a spell, and I came to the conclusion that being called a minority is akin to being given a backhanded compliment. And no one likes to be complimented in that manner. For example, what if that girl who just cannot come to terms with your celestial beauty and grace saunters up and says, "Girl, those shoes you are wearing were just fabulous last year?" At first glance, the comment appears to be complimentary. But, my mommy did not raise a fool; the way in which the sentence was phrased suggests that the Manolo Timbs in which you are still flitting around are no longer fashionable. Now, a true southern belle would be gracious enough to smile warmly and reply, "thank you, your shoes are cute, too." But, I digress...
Being called a "minority" is tantamount to being pegged a "loser" in America since every redblooded flag-carrying Westerner knows that the majority rules. Being designated a "minority" is like being told you will lose EVERY TIME because your race will NEVER outnumber the "majority." But, what happens when that's no longer the case?
It has been estimated that in the future, supposed "minorities" will outnumber our Caucasian counterparts. And since all we "minorities" do is procreate and leach off our noble government, this probably rings true for most. I do not have the slightest fear that rich white men will miraculously turn loose their stronghold on this country anytime soon, and therefore, quite frankly, we will someday live in apartheid conditions. If I were a less honorable woman, I would bet that at that point in time no one will be calling Mr. and Mrs. Smith "minorities." And for the record, I'm not talking about Will and Jada.
Monday, October 16, 2006
Overture
Okay, so I started this blog out of curiosity. I don't know how it may evolve, but I'm thinking I'll have some fun and maybe learn a little bit more about myself along the way.
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