“Yeah, it does.  It heals.  It just heals kind of funny.  You know, you more or less walk . . . with a limp.” – “The Upside of Anger” [on a broken heart]

Side note: Sorry I haven’t been blogging.  I don’t like not blogging.  But, life has just gotten a tad bit crucial lately.  And, I think I caught SARS from one of my piano students.  But Barbie is back (until I’m gone again).

So, the other night D-Magic reprimanded me for ranting a lot on my blog lately.  Well, it wasn’t quite a reprimand; just an observation that still feels like a reprimand because the person is right. I haven’t been meaning to rant a lot.  They’ve just kind of been coming out, like word vomit.  And, I was all prepared to go on another rant about how I want a boyfriend (because, well the weather is cold and I’m sick and I want someone to snuggle me and bring me soup and sh*t). And it was going to be a good rant.  Because I’m wonderful and fabulous and all these things, but I still keep finding losers or crazies.  And, I’m too scared to say anything to the guys who could be really good for me.

But then D-Magic goes all “gee, all of your posts have been rants lately” on me and so now, I can’t rant. Because, then I’ll be seen as the girl who rants and probably is fabulous and deserves a fabulous man except she rants a lot.  Which leads me to where I am today.  The upside of anger.  Except, I’m not really angry.  And, in our case, anger means single (I really just like the movie and wanted to use the title).  And really, there is an upside to being single (and sometimes anger too).

So anyway, that was a really roundabout way of getting to the upside of being single. Because, as I think about all my cuddleless nights (which, really, thanks to Mr. Sunday aren’t quite so cuddleless) and my sick days (seriously, bring me some soup!) and how I want someone to go see Christmas lights with and have Thanksgiving with and make babies with in the far, far, far future (because my brother is making enough babies for all of us these days!) I realize that there really is an upside to being single.

If I really wanted to be taken that  badly I could.  After all, anybody can be married if they lower their standards enough.  But you know me, I’m a high standards kind of girl, so I’ve got to find the upside of being single.  So, in the spirit of not ranting and working on being content in my singleness (cuddles or no cuddles) I present the “Upside of Being Single!”

• Nobody cares if I watch “Project Runway” marathons instead of Sunday Football.  Also, nobody gets mad because I root for the team with the cutest players.
• When (and please pray it’s a when) I get a bonus I can make a guilt-free trip to the Coach store to buy myself a little treat for being such a hard worker.
• One less birthday I have to remember.
• I can flirt notoriously with whomever I want and NEVER feel guilty about it.
• If I want to wear my head scarf to the store, nobody looks at me funny.
• It doesn’t matter if I haven’t had a pedicure since June – who’s looking at my feet?
• There’s nobody around to be offended by morning breath.
• I know how to change a light bulb, reset the TV, power wash my windows and change the air filter in my house.  However, my brother still takes my trash out.
• I can take as long I want to get ready – this usually involves changing 4 times and doing my hair twice.
• There is a self-assurance and a self-confidence that I’ve grown in myself that no man can add to or take away.  That can only be learned through single-dom.

So – what are the upsides of being single in your opinion?  And, don’t come here with the upside of being coupled up. When I’m coupled up, I’ll post about it.  But right now, we don’t want none!

Signed,
All Positive and Sh*t Barbie

“B*&ch I’m me, I’m me, I’m me, I’m me. Baby I’m me, so who you? You’re not me, you’re not me. And I know that ain’t fair, but I don’t care.” – Weezy F. Baby, “I’m Me”

So, I wasn’t planning on posting today.  Calling my life hectic these days is the understatement of the century. And, there are other things that I should be doing right now.  But, I have to take a minute.

Lately, I’ve been surrounded by people who are cuh-razy body conscious. Now – I’m body conscious – there are things I need to work on.  And I go to the gym because it makes me feel good, I actually enjoy working out (usually) and it helps me lose and/or maintain my weight loss.  But, make no mistake about it, I know I’m thick.  And I’m OK with that.  Like actually, really OK with it [Insert inside joke here D-Magic].

In fact, flaws and all, I think pretty highly of myself.  I am well aware of the fabulosity that makes me who I am. And, I’m pretty sure at least somebody out there things I’m fabulous because I have been told that I’m pretty, beautiful and have great legs (just last Thursday!).  Side note: I work my legs out really hard at the gym.  I’m proud of the fact that I can leg press more than a lot of guys. OK, we’re back.  Anyway, the fact of the matter is that I think I’m pretty darn cute.

But lately, I feel like I’ve been surrounded by people who don’t think quite so much of themselves.  And, it’s annoying. Not because I am conceited or anything (at least, I try really, really hard not to be).  But, it’s still annoying.  First, you are cute/adorable/smart/slim or whatever other compliment you are fishing for.  I’m only going to tell you once.  It’s not my job to convince you that you are fabulous. I have to remind myself everyday how wonderful I am.  It’s like in Christianity – at a certain point you have to learn how to encourage yourself/pray for yourself/speak things into your life.  You have to mature.  You can’t always rely on everyone else’s prayer/encouragement to get you through a trial/tribulation/tough time.  The same principle applies.  At a certain point you have to accept that you are what you are and tell yourself how great all of that is.

I don’t mean that you shouldn’t change or improve.  Not at all.  I try really hard to do that.  But it has to be for the right reason.  And let’s face it, to find a boyfriend, make your man happy, pick up chicks, or buy designer clothes ain’t it. Now I don’t know what the right reason for you is.  But, I’m pretty sure that if you’re doing it to find somebody else, keep somebody else or fit into some really expensive clothing that you’ll still be unhappy once you’ve done those things.

At what point to we grow up and accept ourselves, flaws and all? Nobody is perfect – so when do we start accepting that we aren’t perfect and love ourselves just the way we are?  So what that my tooth is a little crooked?  It doesn’t stop every guy I’ve ever dated from telling me that my smile is one of my best (and usually their favorite) feature.  So why spend the time harping on my crooked tooth?  That is energy that can be directed elsewhere in a much more positive manner. What is it that you’re wasting your time harping on?

I don’t mean to rant but I’m just sayin . . . I spend a lot of time working on me, making sure I’m happy and content and comfortable in my own skin.  And frankly, I’m a little tired of listening to others gripe because they aren’t comfortable in their own skin. I’m not ranting, just sayin . . . (OK, I am ranting).

So do us all a favor and stop focusing on the flaws. Stop complaining because you hate your curly hair.  Focus on how great your eyes are, how wide and welcoming your smile is and how cute your butt is.  If you worked and worked and worked and can’t get rid of that little tummy pooch, figure out how to hide it (try a wide belt cinched at your natural waist). And, if you don’t like the way you look – get up and do something about it.  I’m looking for a jogging partner.  And, if you are doing something about it then STOP WHINING! The change will come eventually.  If you’re doing what you’re supposed to do, it’ll come.

I’m comfortable in my own skin so please stop making me uncomfortable around yours.

Signed,
There are Bigger Fish to Fry Barbie

. . . Because It’s Broken

“Sometimes love comes around / It knocks you down / Just get back up when it knocks you down.” – Keri Hilson, “Knocks You Down”

Per usual, I was engaged in a gabfest with one of my girlfriends.  The conversation always, inevitably, turns to men.  It always does.  We can’t help it.  Hmph.

Anyway, this particular conversation was about how long it takes to get over someone after you’ve broken up. I have a friend who has been broken up with one particular ex for years.  We’re talking five plus here.  Long enough – in my opinion – to be over someone.  Except, she seems to be the exact opposite of over him.  I never hear anything nice about the time they spent together.  I never hear her refer to their courtship in a positive way.  In fact, I’m pretty sure she wishes he were dead. I know the guy.  He was nice then.  He’s nice now.  In fact, he reads my blog.  So, if you’re reading this – yeah, I’m talking about you.  And you’re fine by me.

Now, my issue is not with being upset over a break-up.  Hell.  I started an entire blog from my break-up with Voldy. I get it.  We all break-up.  But that’s just it.  We all break-up.

I’ll say it again.  We.  All.  Break.  Up.

Even the homie over on Honey Blog agrees. And, since we all break-up at a certain point you have got to get over it. I don’t agree with everything the homie at Honey Blog says.  But, I do agree that most of our relationships end in failure.  It’s not any fault of ours.  We didn’t (for the most part) do anything wrong.  It’s just the way the cards fall.  The odds are stacked against us.  The house always wins.  That’s the way love goes.

Think about it.  Your relationships end until you meet the person you are going to spend the rest of your life with.  I won’t say that you’re a failure – because you’re not.  None of us are.  But, in the game of love, none of us will bat 1000. Our free throw percentage will never be 90%.  We’ll always have a losing record (unless you marry the first person you were ever in a relationship with – but really, how many of us will that happen to?).

I assert that if you can accept that and move on from the break-up it’ll make you much more resilient in the game of love. I’m not saying (like the Honey Blog homie) that you should go into a relationship expecting failure.  But, what I am saying is that you shouldn’t keep beating yourself (or the breaker-upper) up over a break-up. And you shouldn’t continue to hate your ex two, three, four or five years later.  Aside from the fact that it’s not healthy, it just hinders you in love.

I’m not saying that break-ups don’t completely suck. I’m not saying they don’t hurt.  And I’m not saying that it doesn’t take time to get over them. Trust me – I KNOW.  But, what I am saying is that the next time you go on a date, meet an incredible guy on the metro (before you realize he’s a psycho stalker) or find yourself fantasizing that your co-worker could be the one (I’m talking to you CCB, er me), cut yourself a little slack.  Let things fall as they may.

As Denny used to say, “just fall back.”  It’s a much less stressful approach to dating and love.

Let’s face it, break-ups suck. But they’re not the end all, be all.  If break-ups felt good they’d be called something fun – like sex! And, despite how bad a break-up feels, we are not designed to dwell on that pain forever.  We just aren’t.  I don’t think what ever higher power you choose to believe in would want it that way.  So, buck up my friends.  Acknowledge the pain and the hurt.  And then move on from it.  Grow from it.  And open yourself up to someone new.  And, hey, he (or she) just might be your home run.

But, if they aren’t . . . don’t beat yourself up about it.  Break-ups happen.

So, what do you guys think?  Am I’m being too hard on my friend?  Am I too nonchalant in my theory on break-ups? Is this just a way for me to mask the deeply rooted pain from my break-up with Voldy?  Or do you agree that we should accept relationships and break-ups for what they are and keep it moving?

Weigh in below.

Signed,
It Might be Broken but I’m Not Barbie

Yes, it’s Chris Brown. Yes, we know what he did. Yes, his bow tie was kunty.

None of that matters.

It’s hot.

“True love is giving someone the power to destroy you, but trusting them not to.”

Wow . . . . . . .

“I love kids, especially the kind I can return to their rightful owner.” – Country Club Barbie

Sistergirlfriend welcomed her little bundle of joy into the world on Monday September 14.  My godson is so precious. He’s got the bushiest eyebrows you’ve ever seen on a baby.  And a head full of hair.  And I’m completely obsessed and in love with his tiny little hands and tiny little feet.  And amazed at his survival instinct.  And he only rivals my nephew, Trey, in the cuteness factor.  Trey Day has indeed come.

In the midst of the joyous occasion, a relative-in-law to sistergirlfriend said something that just really rubbed me the wrong way.  We’ll get to that in a second.  But let’s just back up for a minute.

Anybody who knows even a smidge about me knows that I do not want kids right now. It’s not that I never want kids.  But right now, I don’t want them.  I love children. I love every minute I spend with my nephew, little cousins, godchildren and piano students.  But right now, I don’t want them.  I want two or three when I’m ready.  But I ain’t ready.  And the best thing I could do for any of my future offspring, is not to offsprung until I’m ready (yeah, I said it).

And I don’t mean ready in the sense that I can’t take care of a kid.  I’m perfectly capable of caring for a child. I could love them and nurture them and support them. But, right now, I’m in a selfish place in my life.  I enjoy the fact that I can travel and spend my money on me.  And do the things I want to do.  And go the places I want to go.  It suits me at this time. And, I would never bring another human being into the world without being past that stage.  At least, that’s my plan.

Plus, I’d like a husband first.  A boyfriend.  Hell, at this point, I’d take someone I want to date for more than five minutes.

Which brings us to the hospital when Sistergirlfriend’s relative-in-law declared in front of a waiting room full of people that I only have “four good years left” to have a baby. When did 30 become doomsday for reproduction?  My own mother didn’t have me until she was 30 – and I’m the oldest!  I know plenty of women who didn’t have kids until they were in their thirties.  I even know some who had them in their forties – without any help from the doctor.  It happens.  A lot.

So, I bring this question to you.  Is there some kind of ticking clock that I didn’t know about? Did I do things completely wrong by focusing on my career and establishing myself?

My gut says no, but, hey, I’ve been wrong before.

Are there really only four good years left?

Signed,
I’ve still got time (I think) Barbie

The grind shouldn’t come between us . . . I’ll be back soon!

“Sometimes, all we can do is not quit, play the hand we’ve been dealt and accessorize the outfit we’ve got.” – Carrie Bradshaw

Lately, I’ve been doing a lot of self-reflection.  Lots of introspectiveness (is that even a word?) going on at the Dream House.  I’ve been evaluating everything.  Friendships.  Relationships.  My career.  My goals.  My finances.  No area of my life was safe. Not one.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had an idea of what my life should be by now – what I should have accomplished, how I should be living and what I should be doing.  And what I’ve found is that I’ve spent most of my reflection reconciling where I thought I should be with where I actually am. But, more importantly, I’ve spent some time recognizing that it’s OK to be exactly where I am at this point in time.  Because, all things considered, for twenty-six, I’m not doing half bad.

The biggest thing I’m OK with is being single.  Now, I realize that to a lot of people it’s not a big deal. But, we have to put it into context for a minute.  If you would have asked me in September of 2007 what I’d be doing in September of 2009 I would have said planning a move and a wedding.  That was always the plan.  My plan.  His plan.  Our plan.  For as long as we were together that was the plan. It’s a tough thing to deal with when your plan is no longer the plan.  Especially when it falls apart quick, fast and in a hurry without warning.  Add that to the fact that my younger brother just tied the knot in June and I’m asked constantly by my piano students why I’m a grown-up but not married and it’s easy to see how I could so NOT be OK with being single.  But the reality is, I’m OK. I’m having fun and working on me.  I’m confident that the right person is out there.  And I’m pretty sure that God is molding him just like he’s molding me.  Which only means one thing.  When we do get together you better watch out . . . because the world will never be the same.

Here are a few other things I’m OK with . . .

. . . the fact that I don’t make $150K a year. Let’s face it, even when financial services was the Land of Milk and Honey – and Bonuses – I wasn’t making $150K a year.  And, while I am well aware that there are plenty of 20-year-olds out there who do make that kind of moolah, I’m OK with not being one of them.  I’ve got a decent salary plus a well-paying side hustle plus a side, side hustle.  I think I’m good.

. . . being a celebrity in my own head. I wouldn’t actually want the paps following me around all the time or my business the stuff that front page news is sometimes made of. But I can still play celebrity on sites like Twitter and Facebook where my adoring fans follow me and comment on my always witty and insightful status updates.  Plus, I have an excuse for refusing to wear sweats to run errands – I never know who will see me and want to take a picture!

. . . being obsessive compulsive competitive (OCC). Whatever . . . I’ll be that.  I’m not ashamed of my competitive nature.  It’s that inherent nature that drives me to be successful and the best.  It’s the reason I won’t let a piano student play a piece poorly in a piano recital – because I’m not putting my name on that.  It’s the reason I always obsessively review a project before submitting it to my boss.  It’s what makes me a hard-worker, a good colleague and NOT lazy.  In fact, I know a couple people who could stand to have a little OCC disorder themselves.

. . . caring what other people think. I was once told by a guy I was seeing (OK, it was Forrester) that I care too much about what other people think.  Sir, it is OK to care what people think about you with regards to things that matter.  Like, say, your character, work ethic and moral compass.  So yes, I care that people like me.  I care that they think that I’m dependable, committed, trustworthy and loyal.  And, I kind of care if they like my outfit too. Shut up. So do you.

. . . outgrowing some of my friends. Recently, I’ve found myself more annoyed than usual with some people and gravitating towards others whom I may not have in the past.  What I’ve realized is that it’s a natural progression.  Sometimes, you just can’t be as close to someone as you once were.  It happens.  It’s life.  And we move on from it.  But, what I’ve found is that the new people I’m becoming close to are amazing.  And I’m thankful for the opportunity to build a relationship with them.

. . . white after Labor Day. I’m just saying, if it’s still hot, wear it!

And three things I’m not OK with . . .

. . . people who have, like, 5000 friends on facebook.  Hate to break it to you, but they’re only friends in your head.

. . . those who talk a big game but can’t back it up. Don’t talk about it, be about it.

. . . people who don’t wash their hands after using the restroom. Ummm ewww.

So, guys, what are the things about yourselves that you’ve come to know and love?  And what things (about others, of course) can’t you stand?  Can’t wait to hear!

Signed,
This is the only time it’s OK to be OK Barbie

I recently read a fellow blogger’s post about her Top 10 Fashion Don’ts.  And while some things are just plain inexcusable (#9 Wearing logos on your butt or #2 Crocs) there are some Don’ts that I think are Dos.

#10 Overdosing on Accessories
Why she says it’s a don’t: “Rings, a necklace, a bracelet, and earrings are overkill.”

Why I say it’s a do: Sometimes over accessorizing is intentional and looks really cool. Aside from the fact that it’s all the rage right now (hello layered necklaces, bangles up the wazoo, and stackable rings) it looks fantastic when done properly.  There is nothing wrong with wearing rings, a necklace, bracelets and earrings.  You just have to do it right.

Here’s how I do it:

Start with necklaces.  Everything else will have to balance off them.  One of my favorite things to do is pair different length pearl necklaces with a couple of cross necklaces of varying length.  Cool but still funky.  Because I have a lot of necklaces on, I usually go for a pearl stud earring.  Diamond or silver studs work – but nothing bigger than a small hoop as it’ll be too much going on from the bust-line up.  Next, pick out a couple rings.  If you wear a chunky ring on one hand (my fave with this combo is a pearl and rhinestone ring) then wear a sleek sliver ring or stackable rings on the other hand.  Finally add some bracelets.  I usually opt for a mixture of pearl and rhinestone bracelets.  It sounds like a lot but it works.  Check out the society pages for proof, when I did this very thing at the White Linen Affair.

#5 Showing Too Much Skin
Why she says it’s a don’t: “If you want to wear a mini dress and show off your great legs, then don’t wear a low cut or back baring top. Pick one thing to showcase.”

Why I say it’s a do: Generally, I agree that you should bear too much skin.  A low cut top baring your stomach is a bit much.  But, if done properly, I think it can work. One of my favorite examples is from a red carpet event.  Here’s how you can make the look your own.  Start with a pair of shorts.  They shouldn’t be too long, but don’t wear booty shorts either.  Mid-thigh should work perfectly.  Pair and cute (but slightly revealing or low cute) camisole with them.  Something with lace always looks good peeking through.  Then, grab a blazer and button it.  The blazer should come to your waist – so opt for shorter, not longer.  And, when you button it, you should have some of your cleavage showing but not look like a complete whore.  You are exposing two parts of your body – your breasts and your legs – and lots of skin but still keeping it classy.

#1 Wearing Clothes that you are not Comfortable In
Why she says it’s a don’t: “If you are not comfortable, everyone will notice.”

Why I say it’s a do: If you don’t try something that is out of your comfort zone, how can you ever expect to know if you look completely FAB in the latest trend or style?  I don’t condone wearing something that is too, tight or too revealing if you’re going to be tugging, covering and wiggling all day long.  What I do condone is wearing something that you normally wouldn’t pick out. For example, for a long time, I wouldn’t wear sleeveless clothing.  I’m not a fan of my arms.  But one day, I bit the bullet and just went for it.  And got compliments on my top.  I wasn’t comfortable with it at first, but eventually, it grew on me. Now, my wardrobe is equally arm bearing and arm covering.  As you can see above, I like to rock a completely sleeveless look from time to time, too!  The same goes for girls who aren’t fans of their legs.  Try a skirt – something easy, knee length or tea length.  I bet if you pair it with a fab pair of shoes, the compliments will come pouring in.  Sometimes you have to step out of your fashion comfort zone to come up with something truly fabulous!

So, readers, what is your favorite fashion don’t that’s really a do?  And what will always be a don’t in your book? Weigh in Below!

Signed,
Always a “Do” Barbie!

I recently had a conversation with a friend about guilty pleasures and weird little quirks that make us, well, us.  We have a lot. Some of them are pretty standard – like finding every opportunity to quote Real Housewives of Atlanta (me, you trashy hooker!), spending time reading the status updates on facebook of people you aren’t all that interested in (him), or staying up until the wee hours of the morning watching “Golden Girls” reruns (both of us).  And some, so he says, are just plain weird.

Now I know that this seems to come completely from left field.  But I argue that you can tell a lot about your potential compatibility with a mate based on some of your guilty pleasures.  I venture to say that, if a guy can’t put up with some of your guilty pleasures (and vice versa) you two will never be a match. Everybody has their quirks – and I’m on a quest to find the person whose combination of quirks I can deal with . . . and who can deal with mine.

So, I’m bringing my guilty pleasures to you guys and some dating lessons that I’ve learned through sharing them (intentionally and unintentionally) with the loves of my lives and the guys that I’ve dated.  Am I guilty as charged?  You guys be the judge.

Guilty Pleasure #1: “Of Loves”
You got it . . . “Flavor of Love,” “I Love New York,” “Real Chance of Love.”  I can’t help it.  I realize that it’s coonery and foolishness at its very finest, and that they set black people back like a hundred thousand trillion years.  But it’s just so entertaining.  New York spitting in ole’ girl’s face!  Co-Me-Dy!  Buddha’s daily beat down and verbal assault on Tailor Made.  Priceless.  I know, I know.  Some of you guys are really disappointed with me.  You can’t believe I watch that trash.  I’m sorry.  That’s why it’s called a guilty pleasure.  Emphasis on guilty.  With a capital “g.”

Dating Lesson Learned: You can’t take life so seriously all the time.  Yes I’m on my grizzly and KNOW how to make things happen.  But I like to have fun.  If you can’t see the foolishness for what it is, you aren’t the guy for me.

Guilty Pleasure #2: Frat Boys
I don’t mean frat boys who are members of historically black fraternities (hey Esquire!).  I love them too – don’t get me wrong – my friends are well aware that I’m a sucker for a man of a certain fraternity.  But in this case I’m talking about beer pong playing, flip cup champion, keg stand doing frat boys. Can’t help it.  I love them.  I love meeting them, spending time with them, drinking with them (how do you think I perfected my Irish Car Bomb technique) and actually getting to know them.  They are seriously fascinating.  And I don’t mean because they can drink beer upside-down.  I mean because they are smart, funny, well-read, well-traveled and generally good people.

Dating Lesson Learned: I have a variety and diversity of friends.  As my man you should be able to, at a minimum, be cordial with most of them, no matter how different your life experiences may be.  As your girl, I would do nothing less.

Guilty Pleasure #3: Loving my parents a little bit more when they’re 5 hours away
OK, don’t get me wrong.  I lurve, lurve, lurve my parents. With all of my heart.  And all of my soul.  I do.  You can ask anybody.  I think they’re amazing.  But you know when I think they’re more amazing?  When I have to make a phone call in order to reach them and they have to make a plan to come visit me.  Here’s why.  I’ve been living away from home for almost nine years and have owned my own place for more than three years.  So it’s tough to have a parent come stay and crash for an extended amount of time.  I have my own routine and schedule and visitors who stay for more than a few days can really mess that up. Now of course, as my parents, they’re always welcome.  But, I’m used to doing me – however I damn well please. There is a reason that we live 5 hours apart.

Dating Lesson Learned: I don’t live with Momma and Daddy and neither should you.

Guilty Pleasure #4: Lil Bow Wow
Granted, there may not be a dating lesson in here, but I’ll try.  I just like Lil Bow Wow . . . well, I guess Bow Wow now, lol.  I can’t help but smile when “Jump Off (Hey Baby)” or “You Can Get it All” makes its way into my iTunes rotation. And, yes, I still do the Harlem Shake whenever I hear the words “Lil Bow Wow, you just don’t know / the way you move so fast across the floor.”

Dating Lesson Learned: None. I’m just silly.  Sometimes I like to be silly.  And sometimes I like to dance it out.  So, be silly with me and dance it out.  Or shut the door and let me handle my business. OK.  I suppose there was a dating lesson in there.

Guilty Pleasure #5: Bcc’ing and Forwarding / Posting Snarky Facebook and Twitter Statuses
Petty, I know. If you’ve ever been on the receiving end of one of my snark infused e-mails or facebook messages, there is a strong possibility that the e-mail was BCC’d or the Facebook message was forwarded to my other snarkalicious friends.  Don’t believe me?  Check the post about Stoopid Boys. That message made its way to the interweb.  Do you really want to test me? Usually I just send the message to my friends because I’m proud of the way that I combined sheer wit, genius and snark into one biting e-mail.  And normally, aside from the fact that it might make the receiver feel a little silly (ok, dumb), it’s harmless.  It just gives us a good giggle.  But there is a rare occasion where somebody has show their behind and I felt the urge to pass it along to my friends with a note that says “can you believe this fool?” And then, that’s when hell breaks loose. And it’s not very pleasant at all.  It definitely happens (ask Forrester).  And I let my friends in on the action.  It’s more fun for everyone to see you get cussed out.

Dating Lesson Learned: Don’t dish it if you can’t take it. Period. Dot.  I can dish it.  So I need a man who can take it and dish it right back.  So if you have a slick mouth but get your feelings hurt easily you need not apply.  Or, I can just fire you (ask Forrester).  And for the record – I’ve got thick skin, so I can take it.

So – my dear readers – what do you think?  Are my guilty pleasures all that bad? Should I maybe give up one or two if I find a man who can deal with the other 3?  I should probably stop bcc’ing my snarky messages, huh? I could totally get busted.  And what are your guilty pleasures? I know you have some.  Share below.  I won’t tell.

Signed,
Guilty Until Proven Innocent Barbie