Every Ending is a New Beginning

“Closing time/Every new beginning comes at someone else’s ending.”

Kids – it’s been a fabulous run here at Barbie’s Dream House.  It’s been amazing!  More than three years ago I started this blog to get over Ken/Voldy.  And I have.    I’ve enjoyed every minute of sharing the ups and downs of life, love and friendship.

Over the past three years I have also grown. I’ve decided to start a new blog to focus on that growth.   The “Best. Life. Ever.” will focus on all the ways that we can all live our best lives.  From travel, to dining, to fashion, to entertainment, I’ll cover it all.  A lot of things are simple, easy and free!  Living a fabulous life is a state of mind.  It’s my state of mind and I want it to be yours as well!

So, bookmark the new blog link http://bestlifeeverblog.wordpress.com and let’s get started living our Best Lives Ever!!

Thanks for three amazing years at the Dream House!

Can’t wait to keep living the dream with you!

With Sincere Gratitude and Thanks,
Country Club Barbie

Revisiting my Eleven in ’11

I know it’s a been a minute since I’ve posted on the blog (which will actually be addressed in my “Eleven in ’11 update), so here’s what you guys have been missing.  Enjoy!

Participate in the Susan G. Koman Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk (either in Washington, DC or Philadelphia, PA)

Well, as you all know, I’ve been working and training very hard for this event.  I am so excited.  We are just over 3 weeks away (it feels like I signed up for this thing ages ago!)!!!  I am happy to say that I have reached and exceeded my fundraising goal!  Thus far I have raised over $3500 with promises of more money to come!  I have been training my arse off (literally – more on that in a few!) and it’s paying off.  I feel like I will be ready for this challenge.  Now – I just need an air mattress.  Anyone have one I can borrow?  This won’t officially be complete until October 16, but barring any major disasters I think this one is as good as done!

Save an additional $100/month for my IRA account

Every month it comes out of my account like clockwork.  And, I’ve decided that next year, I’ll up the amount to $200.  Look at me!

Only purchase one pair of shoes per month

I have been doing really, really good with this one.  I have either only purchased one pair per month, or not purchased shoes at all.  I think last I updated, June/July I purchased a fabulous pair of red satin peep toe pumps from Nine West.  This month’s purchase was a pair of 5 inch cobalt blue (with black piping) suede peep toe pumps with a ruffle design over the toe.  I know the guys don’t care, but ladies, they are FABULOUS!

Drop 20 lbs

This one is complete!  I’ve actually lost about 27 lbs since we started our Eleven in ’11 journey.  I’m still going strong.  This journey has helped me in so many ways.  Through my exercise journey I’ve been able to meet one of my very best work friends (and faithful workout buddy) and have now committed to running a 5K and participating in relay triathlons in 2012.  That will, of course, be a part of my Twelve in ’12 (because yes, I am thinking about those things).  But, I’ve experienced a lifestyle change that I really hope to stick with.

Blog twice a week

So this one, I haven’t been so good about.  It was really bothering me because I wanted to write.  I wanted to be committed to this.  I’m trying very, very hard to complete my 11 goals.  But, it’s just not in me.  But it got me thinking.  It’s not the time it takes to write that has me de-motivated.  In fact, I can usually bang out a post rather quickly – especially when it’s a rant.  I truly believe that my perspective has changed.  If you’ve been with me through this whole blogging journey, then you know I started writing the blog to get over Voldy.  Well, it’s more than three years later, and well, I’m over Voldy.  And while it is fun to write, primarily, about my dating life and relationships (with clothes, fashion, friends, etc. thrown in, I’m not sure I want them to be on display so much.  I’m tired of ranting all the time.  Actually, it’s not in me to rant as much.  At least not about men, dating, friendships, etc.  What I’ve come to realize (thanks largely to the Eleven in ’11) is that I am responsible for my happiness and making sure I’m living my very best life.  I’ve always known that, but it is something that, in the last 6-8 months, I’ve really been striving to live by.  And it’s little things.  Like taking myself to lunch.  Or going on a trip even when all my other friends bagged it.  Saying yes to a happy hour invitation when I’d normally say no.  Working out that extra 10 minutes even though I want to go home.  Spending time making people around me feel special.  You get the gist. 

So, with that being said, I think the Eleven in ’11 marks the end of Barbie’s Dream House.  But, it will mark the beginning of my new blog “Best. Life. Ever.”  The new blog will focus on all things positive that we ALL can do to make sure we’re living our best lives.  Ever.  Stay tuned for more dets!

Pray earnestly for a new person every day

Not gonna lie, some days are easier than others.

Take a baking class

This is TOTALLY my one goal I have really, really been slacking on.   It’s pretty pathetic actually.  I’m sorry guys.  I’ll do better.  I just really. hate. baking.

Pay it forward once a week

I’ve been trying my hardest to do this.  And, it’s going well.  I think somewhere, way deep down inside I’m a nicer person for it.  But you really have to search to see it, lol. 

Take two (2) vacations, at least five (5) days each, one MUST be out of the country

I have officially taken two, minimum five-day vacations.  But neither was out of the country.  However (drum roll please) – I have decided to head to Toronto to ring in the new year!  So, I will get out of the country (albeit not very far, lol) before the year is up!  I’ll let ya’ll know when the plane tix are booked and then we can consider this, done and done!

Attend a sports game for each of the professional teams in Philadelphia

OK – so I was on a roll.  Then, I think I missed the pro soccer season entirely.  Which means, I won’t be completing this goal.  But, I am in the hunt for Flyers tickets and reasonably (and by reasonable I mean like $250 or less) priced Eagles tickets.  So, I mean 5 out of 6 won’t be so bad.  Wish me luck!

Once a month, you have to turn yourself over to a person of your choosing to control a fun-filled day for you.

OK, so I kind of slacked on this one, but I’m brining it back.  I went to NY on (mostly) a whim and had a great time meandering, mani/pedi-ing, partying, and spending an unplanned weekend with one of my besties.  In fact, we had plans and totally blew them all off.  It was great!  Then, when the hurricane hit, my brother (nearly) forced me to stay in a hotel so I’d be some place with back-up generators, power and the such.  I didn’t want to go and fought tooth and nail.  But, I’m so glad I did.  It was one of the most peaceful and relaxing weekends I’d had in a very, very long time.  In October, my girls are planning some sort of celebratory something after the 3-Day is over.  I just hope that I can either a) shower before we go or b) not totally offend all the people there when we show up!  Though I haven’t completely given up control of everything I am trying.  I’m also trying to be slightly less planned in my life.  For example, the invitation to spend NYE in Canada was random.  And I totally accepted it on a random whim!

So there you have it.  And update on my Eleven in ’11 as we head into the home stretch!

Old Posts Revisited

I don’t think I’ve ever reposted one of my older/past posts on this blog.  I’d rather just not write then send people back to old content.  However, I think these two posts should be shared again. 

I had a conversation with C-Murder the other day about how uncomfortable some people’s discomfort with their own bodies makes me.  I realize, recognize and understand that we all have things we need to work on.  However, at a certain point, when a person constantly puts themselves down it makes me really, really uncomfortable.  Like really uncomfortable.  I hate when someone is always saying “I’m fat” or “I’m ugly” or whatever other thing it is that they don’t like about themselves.  If you’ve ever been around me when this has happened, you’ll notice that I usually just walk away from the conversation.  It’s rude, I know; but, I’d rather be rude then listen to someone berate and belittle themselves. 

Lately, it seems that I’m noticing this more and more from some around me.  And I just thought instead of re-ranting, I’d just direct everyone to posts I’ve written about in the past.

In My Skin discusses the exact situation I’ve mentioned above.  I touch a bit on how weird this scenario makes me feel.  And why, at a certain point, we have to learn to make ourselves feel better without depending on someone else to do it.

Loving On Myself is a promise to myself to encourage myself, take care of myself and remind myself daily how freakin’ awesome I really am.  I hope that a few people read this post and resolve to do the same.

Signed,
I Feel Good (sung in my James Brown voice) Barbie

Drizzy Drake and the Rise of the Emo Thug

“I’m more than just an option . . . whine whine whine . . . I’m just sayin’ you could do better . . . whine whine whine . . . [insert any lyric from "Karaoke"] . . . whine whine whine . . . “ – Drake on any number of his most popular songs

Men have a lot to thank Drake for (either now or later).  He single handled brought nasally rapping back into the forefront (you’re welcome Big (little) Sean; and yes, I’m aware that people say Drake bit Sean’s style, but, umm, Drake made it cool #pow), he made it cool to rock a unibrow (Joe Jonas, I’m looking at you) and he almost, almost, brought light skinned back.  Almost.  But the one thing I will never, ever be able to thank Drake for is the rise of the Emo-Thug.  Drake single-handedly made an entire career out of doing exactly what the hell most people can’t stand Kanye West for.  Bitching, pissing and moaning.  But for whatever reason the fact that he did it with smooth vocals over a catchy beat and not over Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech it made it OK.  And now, we’ve got a world full of men emoting left and right and girls dropping their panties for them because they’re showing their softer side.

Sensitive thugs they all need hugs. 

It seems that lately I’ve encountered more men then a little bit who got all into their feelings over a whole bunch of nothing.  Let’s talk about Denny, who, or as long as I’ve known him, has always been in his feelings.  He’s done everything from cut off communication because I didn’t call him on his birthday (because he told me never to talk to him again) to have a pity party because my biting sense of humor hurt his feelings.  I have cut off all communication with him and the one thing I won’t miss (among many) was his overly sensitive nature for a guy. 

We can also talk about the Rivershark, a minor league baseball player I started dating in May. Almost from the beginning our entire existence was one angst filled conversation (on his end, not mine) after another.  There was the time when I didn’t hear from him for nearly a week after our second date.  When I did hear from him it turned into a three to four hour conversation (no lie, D-Magic was there) about how he liked me so much and he was feeling me but didn’t want to hurt my feelings because he was leaving at the end of the season and blah blah blah blah blah.  Dude.  We went on two dates.  Usually the third date is the deciding factor of whether or not I want to continue to deal with you.  We aren’t there and you’re already waxing poetic about breaking my heart.  Truthfully, I should have known then that he wouldn’t last the entire baseball season.  But I tried again.  And got more of his emo crap.  This time it came when I politely (or not so politely, as it was) told him how I felt about his penchant to cancel dates just an hour or two before we had plans.  He waxed poetic for hours (via text, no less!) about how he felt like I felt that we were in a relationship and it was stressing him and blah blah blah.  Sir, if you were my friend and you kept canceling on me I would have let you have it.  It has nothing to do with being in a relationship and everything to do with respecting my time.  Needless to say, things didn’t work out and he’s finishing baseball season dateless and in a pitching slump. 

Or, let’s talk about the relentless barrage of emo tweets and facebook status’ I encounter on a daily, no hourly, basis.  Everything from grown men quoting Single Ladies (I don’t even watch that show and I know what the heck Stacy Dash told that man) to professing on a daily basis that “nobody loves them and everybody hates them.”  I’ve seen statuses run the gamut. “I’m a good dude, why does ish happen to me?” seems to be the most popular emo thug status/tweet in the last two weeks.  Side Note: For the record, most of the guys posting that are the exact opposite of good dudes and deserve every bit of shi-tay karma that is being directed their way.  And don’t even get me started about how one of the authors on one of my most favorite blogs went emo thug on us for an ENTIRE week (the week of July 25 in case you’re wondering)!

But here’s the thing.  For centuries we’ve established that women are sensitive and emotional creatures.  I mean really, it’s a fact.  Right up there with 1 + 1 = 2 and the sky being blue.  In my relationships, there is only room for one emo thug, and as a woman, by default, I get to be it.  What is we gon’ do with two of us emoting all over the place?  In my relationships I want a man to be a man.  When I come to you with a problem, I want a solution, I don’t want you over analyzing with me.  I don’t have room for your dramatics because I have enough of my own!  I’m not saying I want my guy to be all caveman and pulling me by my hair #pause.  But, if we’re watching The Lion King and he’s the one crying when Mufasa dies then Houston, we’ve got a problem!  Seriously, we’ve got men running around here acting more like a female than females do.  And it has GOT to stop!

So guys, what do you think?  Am I being to hard on Drizzy Drake and his emo thug following?  Fellas, do you want to defend your right to get all emo thug up in here? And ladies, how are you dealing with the emo thugs in your life?  Because, my response to straight ignore them.  And, maybe that’s not exactly working.

Signed,
I’m Just Sayin’ I Can Do Better Barbie (#seewhatididthere)

PS – and yes, I’m going to totally ignore the fact that I haven’t blogged in months.  You’ll get over it.  Stop being so emo.

The Battle’s Half Over

The end of June marks the half-way point for our Eleven in ’11 Challenge.  It’s been a minute since I’ve blogged (needless to say, that goal hasn’t been met) or given an update on my Eleven in ’11 to the masses.  Below you’ll find an update on how I’m doing reaching my goals and some major lessons/milestones from along the way.

Signed,
Country Club Barbie

Participate in the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer 3-Day Walk (either in Washington, DC or Philadelphia, PA)

Update: Well, we all know I’ve signed up to participate in the Philadelphia walk on October 14 – 16, 2011.  Thus far I’ve raised $815.  As I’ve said, I haven’t really tried much other than sending one e-mail asking for donations.  I’ve sent out my summer soiree invitations and I hope to raise a majority of money from donations from the attendees.  I’ve also been promised some donations I haven’t received yet.  Between this and my company match I hope to be finished with fundraising by early September.  As far as training, it’s been going well.  The training schedule has me walking anywhere from 15 – 25 miles per week right now.  I’m slowly but surely building up my endurance for the event.  At one point, walking five miles would have killed me.  Now, not so much.

Lesson/Milestone: I’m not sure if it’s a lesson exactly, but more of an observation.  Although everything about participating in something like the “Eleven in ’11″ challenge leads to life-changing decisions, I didn’t really expect my lifestyle to change.  What I mean is that I didn’t set a huge goal like “move to a different city” for this year.  I didn’t set any goals that I thought would dramatically change the way I lived my life.  Would they change the way I did things?  Sure.  Little tweaks here and there?  Absolutely.  But what I’ve found, with this goal especially, is that I’m living an entirely new way of lie.  Everything about reaching this goal has permeated into my lifestyle.  I now schedule everything around working out and training.  I’m drinking less and exercising more.  And I’ve felt a sense of determination and will that I have not felt for a very, very long time. 

Save an additional $100/month for my IRA account

Update: Not much to say other than I’ve invested an additional $600 into the funds in my IRA.

Lesson/Milestone: No real lesson.  But I have decided that each year I will increase the amount by at least 50%. 

Only purchase one pair of shoes per month

Update: I thought that the 3-Day would be my hardest goal.  But nope, this one has proved to be it.  After all, you are talking about a girl who has been known to buy 3-4 pairs of shoes in one shopping trip.  So, to limit myself to one pair per month has been TOUGH.  I’ve often compared committing myself to one pair of shoes to committing myself to one man.  And, if you’ve been following this blog for the past three years you KNOW how difficult that has been.  But, thus far, I’ve been good.  Even forgoing a shoe purchase all together some months.  With that being said – I’m hitting up my fave shoe store at lunch today. 

Lesson/Milestone: Curtailing my shoe shopping has curtailed my regular shopping all together.  I’m finding more money in my pockets these days and being much more selective in what I purchase in general.  I can’t tell you the last time I really splurged on a shopping spree. 

Drop 20 lbs

Update: ACCOMPLISHED!  I’ve successfully dropped 21.5 lbs since we started this journey – so yay!  I’m focusing on the next 20 lbs.  So, I guess only 18.5 to go, lol. 

Lesson/Milestone: Certainly training for the 3-Day has helped this goal.  But I’m taking a disciplined approach overall.  Changing not just my exercising habits, but also my eating and drinking habits.  I’m trying to make chagnes I know will stick with me.

Blog twice a week

Update: I know I’ve been slipping on this.  Sorry.  It’s the summer.  And I like to do summer things.  But, now that I have a new netbook and working wireless (yay for that!) I can blog from my bed.  So, I plan to get back on track with this.

Lesson/Milestone: None.

Pray earnestly for a new person every day

Update: I’ve been trying hard to do this. Some days and weeks are better than others.  But, I think the very cool thing is that now that people know I’m doing it, they’ve asked me to pray for people.  So when my list gets low my friends have been replenishing it.  It’s actually much tougher than I thought it would be.  Not the act of praying for other people.  But just remember to do it at all.  I try to pray each day, but let’s be honest.  Sometimes that doesn’t happen.  This has forced me to be more accountable though. 

Lesson/Milestone: Prayer changes things.  It works.  I knew that.  But it’s always good to be reminded.

Take a baking class

Update: None.  I have not signed up yet.  I’m not sure anyone understands the extent of my loathing for baking. 

Lesson/Milestone: None.  I hate baking.

Pay it forward once a week

Update: I’ve been holding steady with this one.  Trying my best to do things for people to help them out.  Whether it’s covering someone’s train fare or training a coworker.  It’s been going good.  Some weeks I forget, but for most I haven’t. 

Lesson/Milestone: You reap what you sow.  We all know that, but, this truly proves it.

Take two (2) vacations, at least five (5) days each, one MUST be out of the country

Update: Well, I’ve already taken one vacation and I’m heading to The Chi in less than two weeks (both more than five days).  So, technically it’s completed, but none of the vacations are out of the country.  I’m still holding out for the Fanny Pack Crew reunion or a New Year’s Eve get away.  Don’t count me out. 

Lesson/Milestone: Have some fun dammit!

Attend a sports game for each of the professional teams in Philadelphia

Update: 50% complete.  The Sixers (basketball), Phillies (baseball) and Soul (Arena Football) are all complete.  The Flyers (hockey) will have to be in the fall when the season starts back up.  Who knows what is going on with the Eagles (football) and the NFL.  And I need to get on those Union (soccer) tickets.  Don’t worry.  I’m getting there. 

Lesson/Milestone: Arena football was way more fun than I thought.  And there is an HU alum on the team.  That’s awesome!

Once a month, you have to turn yourself over to a person of your choosing to control a fun-filled day for you.

Update: Not gonna lie, I slipped on this one last month.  But I was going strong for quite some time.  I’ll get it back this month for sure.  I have had the best time and all of my friends have been super willing to help out with this one.  Thanks guys and girls for helping me accomplish this last goal.  Those who know me really well understand just how difficult this really is for me. 

Lesson/Milestone: I really need to let go more.  Not letting go is so unhealthy.  I always feel better when I relenquish control.  I need to bask in that feeling and give up the control more often.  Easier said than done.

Three Ring Circus

“If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it.” – Beyonce, “Single Ladies”

In the biggest single girl anthem of the 21st century, and maybe all time, Beyonce tells men everywhere that if they liked it so much then they should have put a ring on it.  And while yes, I find myself highly annoyed with the men in my life who have left only to come back and tell me how much they loved me and should have put a ring on it (and unfortch, it has happened more often than I care to share); I find myself more annoyed with there are men who liked it, put a ring on it and REFUSE to wear said ring.

As a single girl, my radar is always on.  And, I’m trained to hone in on the left ring finger almost immediately.  I check out that finger before I will even make eye contact with a guy, let alone talk to him or send out my best “it’s OK to approach me” vibes.  It’s what we do.  We look for a ring.  Or a tan line – which means you either have a ring you are supposed to wear or you used to have a ring you were supposed to wear.  Regardless, there is a commitment.  But, what is a single girl supposed to do when a man doesn’t have a ring (or tan line) on it?

Conventional wisdom tells us single gals that a wedding band means a guy is taken.  After all, it is hard enough to navigate the single man waters as it is.  There are the single guys who are actually single and looking.  The single guys who are single and aren’t looking.  The single guys who are in a committed relationship and are only single in terms of the US census or tax forms.  There are the single guys who are in relationships but are still dogs (see here).  I mean you get the point.  It is complicated enough trying to navigate the single man landscape.  And then here come these married men who don’t wear their rings to muddy the waters.  Like, when did it become OK NOT to wear a wedding band?

Look, my beef isn’t even with the fact that you aren’t exactly expressing your commitment to your wife.  That is between you and her.  My beef is with the fact that in a world where women have outnumbered men since damn near the beginning of time, all the single (black) ladies are apparently fighting over the same pool of qualified man-prospects (another post for another day), it’s hard out there for a pimp and my ovaries are a ticking time bomb about to explode in my face – YOU are out here wasting my time!  Look, I’ve got three years worth of blog posts about fools that were wasting my time.  Legitimately single fools wasting my time.  But now, I’m wasting my time with married folk as well.  This can’t be life.

For example, just a couple of weeks ago I encountered a fine specimen of man.  I mean handsome, smart, funny.  Of course, I wanted to know more about him.  And, after confirming there was indeed no ring on that finger my friends and I commenced the investigation (what?  I mean, really, that’s what it was).  Turns out, through casual conversation another friend goes “oh, he’s married with three kids, didn’t you know?”  Ummm no.  I didn’t.  Why?  Because he doesn’t wear his wedding ring!  Now I’ve wasted my time (and my friends’ time) hunting down info on a man who isn’t even on the market.  We could have been stalking  inquiring about someone else all together if we’d just known from jump he wasn’t single. 

Look.  I love love.  I love marriage.  And I respect marriage.  And I’d appreciate it if the guys out there respected it as much as I do and wore a freaking wedding ring.  I think I speak for all single girls (well, most; I know some of them enjoy the married man thing) when I implore – yes, implore – you to wear your wedding band.  Or tattoo of a ring on your finger or “I’m married” on your forehead.  Hell, I don’t care if you have a shirt that says “I’m with stupid” and an arrow pointing to your wife.  I just want to know that, hey, you have a wife.

Is that too much to ask? 

So, single girls, have you encountered this epidemic (pandemic? I don’t really know the difference)?  How do you navigate through the single/married guy with no ring waters?  When did it become OK to just not wear your ring?  You know the deal.  Leave your message at the beep.

Signed,
Hoping He’ll Put a Ring on It (One Day) Barbie

The Romance Factor

“They spoil every romance by trying to make it last forever.”  – Oscar Wilde

A while back D-Magic waxed poetic about the benefits of having a, well, friend with benefits.  She surmised (and rightfully so) that there are all sorts of benefits to that relationship.  Including getting to test drive the new, hot lingerie you purchased, getting to experiment in the bedroom (or kitchen or wherever) and upping your experience without actually upping your numbers.  All of which are benefits I should be highly lauded.  However, at the end of the post, when she discusses her own experience, she attributes the downfall of her relationship with her FWB to the fact that they started  “doing things other than [shucking oysters].”

But what is appropriate when you’re doing more than shucking oysters but not in a serious relationship?  Specifically, in my case, in the romance department.  How romantic is too romantic?  Are you allowed to be romantic with someone you aren’t exclusively dating?  How, exactly, does this work?

As you guys know, I’ve been casually (more than casually?  I’m not sure how to classify this relationship) dating someone for a few months.  I’ll let you take a wild, blind-folded, dizzy stab in the dark as to who I might be referring to.  I was chatting with D-Magic and mentioned possible upcoming date plans with him.  He and I are a bit partied out and decided we wanted to make it a date day/night in.  Something really low key and casual.  Afternoon movie and then making dinner and dessert together (and by “together” that means ”me cooking for him”) – just spending time together really.  I mentioned to her that I wanted to have an inside picnic – mostly as an excuse NOT to clean off my kitchen table which serves as my catch-all for everything.  Her reaction?  “A picnic in your home sounds really cute (and also really romantic).” 

And, while I hardly think a picnic amongst Teddy Ruxpin (yes I have one), Thomas the Tank Engine (I hope Thomas dies!) and more ABC blocks than I know what do with is romantic, she did have a valid point.  The last time I had an indoor, or outdoor, picnic was with Voldy.  And it was decidedly romantic.  And, I suppose, I wanted this evening to be equally romantic.  I am not trying to earn brownie points with the boy.  Or persuade him to wife me up.  But, if we’re dating and I like him, I think we can have a romantic evening together.  We have our fair share of fun and silly evenings.  And playful and cuddlly (which can sometimes be confusing) evenings.  We’ve taken a weekend trip together.  And I would, without a doubt, classify some of our dates as romantic.  So why am I feeling funny about the romance level of this particular date night?

When I’m casually dating someone, I should be able to be romantic, right?  I mean, just like with my FWBs (if I had any at the time) I can bone up (no pun intended) on my bedroom skills, shouldn’t I bone up on our romance skills?  What better way to get the romance factor just right than to do it with someone I like and care about?  Even if we aren’t in a committed relationship.  No, I don’t have a boyfriend; but I’d like to know when I do that I do, I’ll be able to do romantic things with and for him. 

But I have concerns too.  What if this further blurs the already very blurry lines of our relationship?  What if he leaves date night wanting more out of this relationship.  Or, much more likely, what if I do?  When does romance turn into intimacy?  Do the two ever separate?  And, haven’t he and I crossed that intimacy line already?  The bottom line is that I like him.  I like doing things both with him and for him.  Some of those things are clearly friend-like and some of those things are clearly romantic.  Regardless, I like spending time with him and laughing with him.  And having intimate and romantic evenings with him.  I just like being around him (until I don’t). 

But all of this begs the question, how romantic is too romantic for a non-committed relationship?  Should we even be romantic at all?

Weigh in below!

Signed,
Hopelessly Romantic Barbie

Words

“It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it.” – Some really smart unknown person as quoted by my Dad 

It’s no secret that my mouth has gotten me in trouble (we’ve talked about this). Sometimes, it’s what I say. Sometimes, it’s how I say it. Usually, it’s both. I have a very dry sense of humor and I am very, very sarcastic. When you add that to the fact that I, more often than not, tell the truth whether you want to hear it or not it can lead to some unpleasant exchanges. That’s how I’ve been. Since I was little (my mom can give you stories for days about the crazy stuff I said as a kid). It’s just who I am.

Well, sometimes when you mix my sarcastic mouth with a tone that can sometimes come across as condescending (not because I am, but because there is a thin line and it all but disappears over writing) things get ugly. Usually it happens when I Tweet (though, more often than not it’s intentional on Twitter – What? Well it is!). Sometimes it happens on Facebook. Rarely (twice in three years) it happens on this blog.

Something I tweet may rub a person the wrong way or someone thinks my blog post is about them (in the two times it’s happened where someone had the balls to ask me about it, one person has been way off base, the other, spot on). Side note: I find it funny that the people who read the blog and have every right to be upset with what was written (Voldy, Mr. Officer, etc.) never are. Usually we laugh and joke about it. Well, I mean I’m not laughing and joking about anything with Voldy, but you get what I’m saying. Strange’, right? But here’s the thing. If it is about you, you have to deal with it (and, I would fully do the same. Trust that some not nice things have been said/written to/about me.  And my mom always said if I could dish it I had to be able to take it).

For better or worse, these are my thoughts, my feelings and my blog posts. It is my interpretation of my life as it’s happening to me. The only point of view I have is my own. When I write on this blog, it is more cathartic than anything. Because I can get it out and leave it there. Rarely, do I choose to blog about something and not leave it right there on the page (being black enough and the why you’re single saga being two notable exceptions).

For me, this is almost like a diary that I’m choosing to let everyone else read. While I do love my friends and family for reading and providing lots of valuable insight and general tomfoolery, I don’t write for them. I write for me. Sometimes, it isn’t anything more than a cute fashion trend I’m loving and want to share. Sometimes its a funny or ridiculous dating story – OK, lots of times it’s that. And sometimes, it’s more serious. But through it all, it’s for me.

It always has been. From the very beginning I always said I started this blog to find a productive way to work through my break-up with Voldy. Well, three years later I think we’ve worn Voldy out (for the most part). But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t other places in life that leave me hurting or upset or happy. And often, those places are my friends. It’s true, some of my friends have hurt me far more than Voldy ever could (which is another blog post in and of itself). More often than not, if you go through the archives, my posts are about my friends.

And lately, the things I am facing have little to do with my dating life (mostly because I took an intentional dating hiatus) or shopping (it’s amazing how limiting myself to one pair of shoe per month has completely curtailed my ridiculous shopping habit) or work (becuase, when have I really, ever blogged about work) and more to do with those relationships to those who are closest (supposed to be?) to me. And while, during this period of examination some friendships have flourished, others have really been called into question. I’m just choosing to share it (some/most of it) with my readers.

Plain and simple.

So, I guess I’m writing this post for two reasons.

One reason is to let you know that my mouth is probably going to get me in a lot more trouble over the next few weeks (and no, I will not apologize for it). I mean, it’s been getting me in trouble for as long as I can remember, so why stop now?  As poor Mr. Officer found out – everything (like text messages and including myself) is fair game. Side note: I obvs don’t mean everything – so take that with a grain of salt. You know what I’m trying to say, right? The other reason is to let you know that I probably won’t have many ridonkulous dating stories; so, if that’s what you’re looking for check back in June when my dating hiatus is over.

Sorry. Right now, that’s where I am. It is what it is. Kanye shrug.

So (to my other bloggers mostly) have you ever gotten in trouble for a post (I think I may be the only one – I say some crazy things)? How do you handle people when they take things personally when it’s not personal? And what do you do when it is? And does anybody else feel like I’m talking about them? (Here’s a hint: There are only about 5 posts – out of 155 – where I use the word “friend” and mean someone very specific. Other than those instances, I’ll attach a nickname to the story or I use the word friend and really just mean “person I know.” So, it is more likely than not that the post isn’t about you at all).

Signed,
It Is What It Is Barbie

PS – Sorry if I seem cranky. I’m really not. Life is good. Just kind of boring right now (a dating hiatus will totally do that to you). Maybe I’ll make up some sort of controversy to have something to write about.   Anybody else’s birth certificate the public wants to see?  Are we sure Sarah Palin is a US citizen?  Hell, are we sure she’s human?

Living Single

“We are living/single/ohhhh/in a 90′s kind of world/I’m glad I got my girls!” – Queen Latifah, Theme Song for “Living Single”

A couple weeks ago Denny came over to my house to chill on a Friday night.  Well actually, after a Friday night out (for both of us).  He was around my neck of the woods and too tired (and, truthfully, too tipsy) to drive down to his house.  So he asked if he could crash on the couch and I, of course, said yes.  During his visit we hashed out old issues (which we always, inevitably do whenever we’re together) and got to talking about a mutual friend of ours.  She’s actually more than a mutual friend.  She is (was?) a dear friend of mine.   Anyway, Denny brought up the fact that she called him just a few days prior to catch-up/complain/bitch about me.  I guess she often calls him to complain/bitch about me.  Which is funny because I think the last time I actually spoke to her was on her birthday, nearly six months ago, so I’m not quite sure what she has to complain/bitch about exactly.  But whatever.  She was feeling some type of way and told Denny all about it.  

The funny thing is, she didn’t tell him how catty I can be (I can be) or how spoiled I can be (I can be) or how hard on people I am (I really can be) or how whiny I am (whatever, I own that) or any of the other things that are wrong with me.  No.  She chose to complain about the fact that I’m doing things like cooking myself gourmet meals, traveling to South Beach for my birthday, setting goals for myself (see: Eleven in ’11) and sticking to them.  She basically attacked my single girl lifestyle and the way I’m living.

But here’s the thing; it took me a long freakin’ time to be OK with my single girl lifestyle.  Yes.  I have had bouts of singleness.  But never a three-year bout of perpetual singleness.  And while I have dated some great (and not so great) guys, none of those have turned into a relationship.  Even with the guys who I was seeing for extended amounts of time.  And, I did the math.  In 2010, I spent 4 months dating The Fresh Prince and 4 months dating Mr. Nice Guy and have no relationship to show for it.  But now I’m finally OK with that.

After much contemplation, whining, bellyaching, ballyhooing (where did I even come up with that), crying and praying I am finally OK with my singleness.  I am OK with making my life what I want to make it.  I’m OK with the fact that every trip I take to an exotic or new country isn’t going to involve a man and be some romantic getaway.  I’m living with the fact that I don’t have a +1 to events.  I have truly made up in my mind that I don’t need to have a man to live the best. life. ever.  Do I want a man? Sure?  Would I love someone to cheer me on or cheer me up?  Yes.  But I have friends and family who do that just fine.  So, I’m annoyed with the fact that she’s mad I’m living a single girl with no man, with no kids and with my own ish lifestyle.

At first, I was going to go on this whole rant about how I’m sorry my life isn’t her life.  Not in a condescending way.  I just suspect that part of her rant had everything to do with the grass being greener. I was going to apologize for living a (fairly) carefree existence.  I was going to apologize that her responsibilities are not my responsibilities (i.e. a kid).  But you know what?

I’m not sorry.

Simple as that.  I. Am. Not. Sorry.

I am not sorry that I can spend my money when I want, how I want, where I want on what I want.

I am not sorry that I can decide to cook myself a gourmet dinner just for the hell of it.

I am not sorry that I can plan my 5 weeks of vacation around my own damn schedule and not around spring break, kids soccer schedules and parent/teacher conferences.

I am not sorry that I have over 100 pairs of shoes in my closet (most of which I never wear or pull out only for special events).

I am not sorry that I get my nails done nearly every week.

I am not sorry that when I go out with my girlfriends I don’t have a baby to get home to.

I am not sorry that my friends and I consistently look like we’re having the most fun out of anyone in the room.

I am not sorry that I can decide on Thursday that I want to go to NY on Friday.

I am not sorry that I can buy a fabulous dress for $400 and eat cereal for a month if I have to.

I am not sorry that I can dance around my house nekkid if I feel like it.

I. AM. NOT. SORRY.

This is the path that my life is on and it is obviously what God ordained for this part of my journey.  And so instead of whining and complaining about who and what I don’t have, I’m focusing on enjoying what and who I do have.  Plain and simple.

What I am sorry about is the fact that my (dear?) friend can’t do the same.

So what do you think?  Am I being too hard?  What do you guys love about the single life?  And what do you hate?  You know the deal.  Weigh in below.

Signed,
Living Single Barbie

You Don’t Know My Name

“You might see me in the street/But [shorty] you don’t know me/When you holla when you speak/Remember you don’t know me . . . Hey I ain’t tripping but the truth is/Really you don’t know me/If you gotta call me T.I./Then you don’t know me/You be hating and I see why/’cause you don’t know me” - TI, “You Don’t Know Me”

I’ve spoken on this blog before about the various philanthropic endeavors (how’s that for a $10 phrase in a $2 sentence?) I participate in on a regular basis.  I participate in these activities because philanthropy and giving back are something that I am very, very passionate about.  This passion is something that was instilled in me at a very young age.  I remember being in elementary or middle school and my mom gathering me and a bunch of kids up from our church to volunteer to bag groceries and help people at Wal-Mart on Black Friday (the day after Thanksgiving for those who are shopping impaired).  We didn’t get paid.  Really she didn’t even ask if I wanted to.  She told me I was doing it.  Because it was good for me to help others.  The point is, although I had a privileged upbringing (and, yes, I’ll be the first to admit it was privileged), my parents did a wonderful job of reminding my brother and I that:

1. We didn’t earn it (that’s Dre Dogg’s money)
2. We didn’t deserve it (we had no control over the fact that we were born to my parents and not to someone else)
3. It could all be taken away (very little separates us from a homeless person on the street)

While tutoring last week, I had a conversation with one of the male tutors about why the black community doesn’t support each other (which is another blog post for another day).  Somehow, the conversation turned to privileged black people (read: me) turning our back on the underprivileged (read: him).  And then, because that turn wasn’t twisted enough, it turned into a full-on conversation about how I can’t relate to the black experience because my parents have been married for nearly 34 years, I grew up in a nice neighborhood, I went to private schools and I don’t have an afro (yes – that was a real argument against my “blackness”). 

He argued that in my position – which he views as a single, black woman who is “well to do” (his words, not mine) I should be throwing money into the inner-city, black communities to help those less fortunate*.  Then, he surmised that because I didn’t grow-up in the inner-city I couldn’t relate.  And, because I couldn’t relate (to growing up in the inner-city) it meant I wasn’t black enough.  Side note: There are lots of experiences I can’t relate to.  I can’t relate to having a child – doesn’t make me any less of a woman.  So how exactly does growing up in the suburbs make me less black?

At that point, I simply got up and left the room. 

Not because I couldn’t handle the conversation – Lord knows I could have.  But because after 28 years on this earth I am tired of defending my blackness.  I’m tired of having to stand up to my own “brothers and sisters” and explain to them that the fact that I come from a two-parent household, speak proper English and grew up in the suburbs makes me no less black than they are.  It. Is. Exhausting.  I already encounter overt racism, institutionalized racism (let’s face it, racism still exists whether we want to own-up to it or not) and all around ridiculousness on a daily basis.  What I don’t feel like doing is defending myself to other black people.  While I don’t know what it is like to grow-up with a parent on drugs or a ward of the state of New York there are life experiences that I have had that he’ll never understand.  For all he knows I could have been molested as a child (I wasn’t) or adopted (I wasn’t) or whatever.  You don’t know me (MAN!). 

The point is – his circumstances (or any one elses’) don’t make his experiences any more black than mine.  I’m sorry.  They don’t. 

So, guys, what do you think?  I’ve had about a week to mull this over and I don’t think I handled the situation the best.  I should have done more than leave – if for no other reason then I’ve only reinforced the fact that he thinks he’s right.  How would you guys have handled it?  Is there anything I can do now?  And, what do I say to one of the kids who e-mailed me to ask me what is and isn’t black enough? 

And to ask me if they were black enough?

Signed,
Black Enough Barbie
* First of all, if I could write a check for $10,000, trust me, I would.  But I can’t even write a check for 10 grand to MYSELF without it bouncing.  Second of all, I can absolutely, without a doubt tie dollars and cents to the philanthropic programs I support.  I can trace tens of thousands (like $30,000+) of dollars that I helped our tutoring program get in grant money and donations back to my own, personal efforts.  Third, I AM HERE.  I am tutoring twice a week.  I sit on the board of directors.  I mentor.  I take the kids out.  I spend my money on them and my time with them.  I am there for them – all day, every day, any time of day that they need me.  Blood, sweat and tears.