<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456</id><updated>2026-04-08T15:32:51.106-04:00</updated><category term="dating"/><category term="relationships"/><category term="Nina Lovehall"/><category term="guest blog"/><category term="men"/><category term="online dating"/><category term="texting"/><category term="Cutie With Attitude"/><category term="Super Texter"/><category term="technology"/><category term="Handsome Honey"/><category term="holidays"/><category term="Mr. Serious"/><category term="Prince Charming"/><category term="Southern Gentleman"/><category 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term="losers"/><category term="lying"/><category term="man code"/><category term="manual labor"/><category term="meeting Mom"/><category term="meeting men"/><category term="period"/><category term="photographs"/><category term="picky dater"/><category term="public displays of affection"/><category term="red flags"/><category term="rejection"/><category term="requirements"/><category term="respect"/><category term="rest in peace"/><category term="sexual history"/><category term="sexual partners"/><category term="shopping"/><category term="shoveling"/><category term="sideline ho"/><category term="singles"/><category term="six items or less"/><category term="sleepovers"/><category term="smoking"/><category term="stalker"/><category term="stank face"/><category term="three strikes"/><category term="thrill of the chase"/><category term="toad"/><category term="warning signs"/><category term="weed smoking"/><category term="workaholic"/><category term="you can&#39;t be serious"/><title type='text'>Fabulous Femininity</title><subtitle type='html'>Being a fab, fly female has its perks, but life isn&#39;t always sweet.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>72</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-1380175682803436652</id><published>2011-12-19T12:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T12:11:22.395-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="abusive relationships"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="domestic abuse"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="domestic violence"/><title type='text'>Know the Signs of Abusive Relationships</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Twice in recent years, women close to people I know have been killed by their estranged husbands.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;I did not know either woman, so I cannot know what precipitated such violence. I cannot know whether there were warning signs that either these women or their friends or family could have heeded.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwzKvNVV3AIJJUg1BPuA1CKzKiSHu7GdZfDidbKHwWpvkzeLPgurfdlp8y_IT3Jd28ERYU2mHc5x-KcZIvOT27RdZvC-_N3aCdqXisF4uc9INuU5gDLncNSAHEz7W4QoM6P-Z1BtdaYQ/s1600/abuse.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwzKvNVV3AIJJUg1BPuA1CKzKiSHu7GdZfDidbKHwWpvkzeLPgurfdlp8y_IT3Jd28ERYU2mHc5x-KcZIvOT27RdZvC-_N3aCdqXisF4uc9INuU5gDLncNSAHEz7W4QoM6P-Z1BtdaYQ/s320/abuse.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Photo courtesy of Flickr user @Mike Knapek&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;What I do know is that this is a frightening issue. These were not just boyfriends. These were husbands who the women clearly loved and trusted enough at one point in their lives to marry. So at what point did that &quot;love&quot; turn to &quot;if I can&#39;t have you, no one can&quot;?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;As a single woman, it&#39;s a question I ponder from time to time. If you&#39;ve followed my blog, you know I try to &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/06/6-signs-guy-youre-dating-may-be-crazy.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;steer clear of crazy/deranged suitors&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;But do I really know what to look out for? I decided to do some research. Here are warning signs of domestic violence in your relationship, according to the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.thehotline.org/is-this-abuse/am-i-being-abused-2/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;National Domestic Violence Hotline&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Does the person you&#39;re dating...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Put you down or embarrass you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Make all decisions in your relationship?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Try to scare you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Attempt to control you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Keep you from seeing friends, family, or other loved ones? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Take your money, or make you ask him for money and then refuse to give it to you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Say he&#39;s going to take away or hurt your children?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Keep you from going to work or school?&lt;br /&gt;
* Blame the abuse on you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Destroy your property?&lt;br /&gt;
* Threaten to harm or kill your pets?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Use weapons to intimindate or threaten you? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Hit, slap, choke or shove you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Make you drop criminal charges against him?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Threaten suicide or threaten to kill you?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Also, the American Psychiatric Association &lt;a href=&quot;http://healthyminds.org/Main-Topic/Domestic-Violence.aspx&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;lists these less obvious warning signs&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;* Fast, whirlwind romance.&lt;br /&gt;
* Insists on being with you all of the time. Tracks what you&#39;re doing and who you are with.&lt;br /&gt;
* Jealousy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt; * Trying to isolate you, using &quot;loving&quot; language. (&quot;You don’t  need to work or go to school; we only need each other.&quot;)&lt;br /&gt;
* Hypersensitivity when he feels he has been slighted.&lt;br /&gt;
* Blames others for abuse.&lt;br /&gt;
* Insists you do things you are not comfortable with. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;Resources for those in abusive relationships:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style=&quot;font-family: inherit;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.ncadv.org/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;National Coalition Against Domestic Violence&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.thehotline.org/&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;National Domestic Violence Hotline&amp;nbsp;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://healthyminds.org/Main-Topic/Domestic-Violence.aspx&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;American Psychiatric Association: Domestic Violence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: inherit; font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/1380175682803436652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2011/12/know-signs-of-abusive-relationships.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/1380175682803436652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/1380175682803436652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2011/12/know-signs-of-abusive-relationships.html' title='Know the Signs of Abusive Relationships'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxwzKvNVV3AIJJUg1BPuA1CKzKiSHu7GdZfDidbKHwWpvkzeLPgurfdlp8y_IT3Jd28ERYU2mHc5x-KcZIvOT27RdZvC-_N3aCdqXisF4uc9INuU5gDLncNSAHEz7W4QoM6P-Z1BtdaYQ/s72-c/abuse.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-3462995443251033843</id><published>2011-11-15T20:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T20:26:26.261-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="awkward"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="competition"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fine Guy"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="New Guy"/><title type='text'>Finessing an Awkward Situation</title><content type='html'>FabFem has a knack for getting herself into uncomfortable/random/weird positions, usually not on purpose.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Fortunately, I recover quickly, or at least I try to.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: left; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWTDfxo1Wi9Bl2hnSIYPBQQidyA1qtX0F8uphVW_6KFkxXbPqyPLhp7zkOoUIYZ9xnjKCStAlLenuwQ9el42ZDPtGR3UfDa3R8WeDa05F4QCzWxsOl5nCzk6WbamrqukDc-oo7Y8x118/s1600/Elevator_040611.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWTDfxo1Wi9Bl2hnSIYPBQQidyA1qtX0F8uphVW_6KFkxXbPqyPLhp7zkOoUIYZ9xnjKCStAlLenuwQ9el42ZDPtGR3UfDa3R8WeDa05F4QCzWxsOl5nCzk6WbamrqukDc-oo7Y8x118/s200/Elevator_040611.jpg&quot; width=&quot;133&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Courtesy of Dennis Mojado/Creative Commons &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Take a recent party I went to. I was meeting someone there, so I arrived alone. I immediately ran into a guy I once went out on a date with and long swooned over (he is &lt;i&gt;fi-iinnn-eee&lt;/i&gt;). We ended up on the elevator together, and Fine Guy loudly flirts and makes a comment about my derriere on an elevator full of guys who were strangers...or so I thought. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Until I looked to my left. That&#39;s when I saw New Guy. I&#39;d met him about a month ago and was kinda feeling him. I didn&#39;t know he&#39;d be at this party.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But did he really just hear Fine Guy talking about my bootie?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The weird smirk on his face told me he did.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Awkward. &lt;/i&gt;Sigh. Only me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But New Guy took it well. He said he basically shrugged it off as a, &lt;i&gt;&quot;Damn, she got it like that?&quot;&lt;/i&gt; kind of deal.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m glad he has a sense of humor. In fact, he even seems a little more interested. &lt;i&gt;*Shrug*&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The threat of competition perhaps?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Talk back:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; Tell us about an awkward situation you encountered--and how you handled it.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/3462995443251033843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2011/11/finessing-awkward-situation.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/3462995443251033843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/3462995443251033843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2011/11/finessing-awkward-situation.html' title='Finessing an Awkward Situation'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPWTDfxo1Wi9Bl2hnSIYPBQQidyA1qtX0F8uphVW_6KFkxXbPqyPLhp7zkOoUIYZ9xnjKCStAlLenuwQ9el42ZDPtGR3UfDa3R8WeDa05F4QCzWxsOl5nCzk6WbamrqukDc-oo7Y8x118/s72-c/Elevator_040611.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-6993338081798497633</id><published>2011-11-09T12:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-09T12:19:27.914-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dealbreakers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="losers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mr. Dick Wackington"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nina Lovehall"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationships"/><title type='text'>The Ultimate Dealbreaker</title><content type='html'>I&#39;ve been accused of having a &#39;bleeding heart.&#39; I am forgiving--almost &lt;i&gt;too&lt;/i&gt; forgiving at times.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But there is one guy--we&#39;ll call him Mr. Dick Wackington, Esquire (name coined by &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/search/label/Nina%20Lovehall&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;guest blogger Nina Lovehall&lt;/a&gt;, who can&#39;t stand his @ss)--who keeps trying. But he will never ever, and I mean &lt;i&gt;ever&lt;/i&gt;, get back into my good graces.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why, you may ask? Let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Last year, I had surgery. It was fairly serious and definitely a huge disruption to my life and my freedom. It meant I couldn&#39;t drive for 2 months, and I spent some of that time on crutches.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had been seeing Mr. Wackington for a few months at the time. He promised to check in on me frequently to make sure I was OK. I figured with his help, and with that of some great friends, neighbors, cousins and my dad and brothers, I&#39;d be just fine.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was almost right.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My family, neighbors and friends were indeed fantastic. I didn&#39;t want or need for anything because they took good care of me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But Mr. Wackington? He didn&#39;t show up for four days after I had surgery. My dad, less than thrilled to see him at that point, still believed him when Mr. Wackington told my dad he&#39;d come back to check on his baby girl when my dad returned home (two hours away) a week later.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But he didn&#39;t keep his promise. Instead, Mr. Wackington told me he didn&#39;t have time to come check on me. He was going to happy hour instead. And even as I hobbled around on crutches, I told him not to bother coming by &lt;i&gt;on any day&lt;/i&gt; if happy hour was more important than making sure I was OK.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And so, Mr. Wackington disappeared for a few months, just long enough for me to recover and get back on my feet. I run into him out and about every couple of months, and every time I see him (and I do mean &lt;i&gt;every, single, flippin&#39; time&lt;/i&gt;), he tells me how &quot;beautiful&quot; he thinks I look, how he messed up, and how I should just let him make it up to me. One time, he told me I should let him buy me a drink as part of his &quot;penitence&quot; for what he did. Seriously?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve responded on more than one occasion that Mr. Wackington can kiss my @ss. Yes, I actually said that, and I&#39;ve actually said worse, depending on how hard he presses me. Like, he really gets all up in my personal space and has a difficult time taking &quot;no&quot; for an answer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But it&#39;s simple--If he didn&#39;t want to be around when I was at my worst, he definitely doesn&#39;t deserve me at my best. Most recently, he had a friend lobbying me on his behalf, telling me how very sorry Mr. Wackington is for treating me the way he did, how I could&#39;ve been The One, etc.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;Sigh. Gimme a break.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My dad says that men make mistakes, and I get that. But I can&#39;t be with someone who I can&#39;t trust to have my back when I need it most. That time period was one of the few times in my life where I felt almost totally dependent on other people. And Mr. Wackington gave me his @ss to kiss, and he was downright mean and nasty about it. Not cool.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So it doesn&#39;t matter how many times he apologizes or how &quot;beautiful&quot; he thinks I look now that I&#39;ve recovered from the surgery and lost a few pounds, to boot. It&#39;s a wrap.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
*Sings* -- &lt;i&gt;He must not know &#39;bout me...To the left, to the left.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&#39;allowfullscreen&#39; webkitallowfullscreen=&#39;webkitallowfullscreen&#39; mozallowfullscreen=&#39;mozallowfullscreen&#39; width=&#39;320&#39; height=&#39;266&#39; src=&#39;https://www.youtube.com/embed/2EwViQxSJJQ?feature=player_embedded&#39; frameborder=&#39;0&#39;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Talk back:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/i&gt;What is your ultimate dealbreaker?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Related: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/cleaning-house-cutting-stragglers-off.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Cleaning House: Cutting Stragglers Off  &amp;amp; Starting Anew&lt;/a&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/6993338081798497633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2011/11/ultimate-dealbreaker.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/6993338081798497633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/6993338081798497633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2011/11/ultimate-dealbreaker.html' title='The Ultimate Dealbreaker'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-5834301616676658375</id><published>2011-11-08T23:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-08T23:17:46.733-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="jerks"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="men"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="you can&#39;t be serious"/><title type='text'>Why I&#39;ll Start Listening to My Gut</title><content type='html'>There was something about him that I knew just wasn&#39;t right.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yet I still didn&#39;t listen to my gut, which said, don&#39;t walk, but RUN away. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe it was the fact that his very first question was, &lt;i&gt;&quot;Is that your real hair?&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Or, maybe it was that his second question was, &lt;i&gt;&quot;When are you cooking dinner for me?&quot;&lt;/i&gt; To which I responded that he shouldn&#39;t expect a woman to cook for him when he first meets her, and if he wanted to get to know me, he&#39;d have to take me out instead. Then, I walked away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table cellpadding=&quot;0&quot; cellspacing=&quot;0&quot; class=&quot;tr-caption-container&quot; style=&quot;float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;&quot;&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMos8NWtluQbgHpTRxelg9JVlNO6L9tc5FTXeZSNFbOgYqvY9gxL47wfKVOVeVlDzB5fbdhUAbbJwneYa62dXidlxEnaCDY51RlXx4x7o9mRRJI5eehatzqCc5zwAdYBDecczIYz3FxSg/s1600/5719440872_4ab2dec863_m.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;180&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMos8NWtluQbgHpTRxelg9JVlNO6L9tc5FTXeZSNFbOgYqvY9gxL47wfKVOVeVlDzB5fbdhUAbbJwneYa62dXidlxEnaCDY51RlXx4x7o9mRRJI5eehatzqCc5zwAdYBDecczIYz3FxSg/s320/5719440872_4ab2dec863_m.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class=&quot;tr-caption&quot; style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: xx-small;&quot;&gt;(Photo credit: Flickr user @Sarah_Ackerman)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;He grabbed my hand and pulled me back. Against my better judgment, I stayed and talked a while longer. We exchanged numbers, and I&#39;d come to regret that decision at 9 a.m. the next morning--a Sunday, when he sent me the first of four texts and phone calls I&#39;d receive before noon that day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Among his texts: &lt;i&gt;&quot;So why did you give me your number?&quot; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: &lt;i&gt;&quot;Because you asked for it.&quot;&lt;/i&gt; [Hey, if you ask a stupid question, you get a stupid answer.]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Him: &lt;i&gt;&quot;So you give your number to every guy who asks for it?&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: *blank stare* at my phone, deciding not to validate such foolishness with an answer. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The funny thing is he was a cutie. So, why was he so pressed?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Probably because he&#39;s an absolute jerk.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I managed not to talk to him for another day or so. Then we finally had a phone conversation. He told me he couldn&#39;t tell me his profession because it was &quot;very important&quot; but assured me he had a &quot;great job.&quot; He told me--&lt;i&gt;for the second time&lt;/i&gt; (the first being when he bragged when we met)--about the several overseas trips he has planned to various countries next year. I, probably poorly so, feigned interest, while making a mental note that he hadn&#39;t bothered to ask me a single thing about myself, but...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
...then came the killer question: &lt;i&gt;&quot;So, why are you single?&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mind you, this was after I very briefly explained that I hadn&#39;t traveled much for pleasure recently because of family obligations &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/08/rest-in-peace-mom-i-love-you.html&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;following the death of my mother&lt;/a&gt;. Why on earth would you then ask me why I&#39;m single? Is it not clear I&#39;ve been a little busy...and um, traumatized? Plus, I told him that generally, women don&#39;t like to be asked why they&#39;re single. &quot;Well, it&#39;s never been a problem for me,&quot; he informed me. &lt;i&gt;(Me: thinking to myself--probably because they just never called you again. Sigh.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The conversation continued to go downhill from there. He asked me my sign. &quot;Libra,&quot; I told him. He then told me that he&#39;s a Libra, too, and that Libras don&#39;t get along. And, by the way, he added, if I want to see him, I should let him know, but otherwise, it was no sweat off of his back.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Really? Seriously?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, he really said that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I took a deep breath and told him to have a good evening. He hasn&#39;t called since. Thank God.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And next time, I&#39;ll listen to my gut.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;Talk back:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; Have you ever ignored a gut feeling and found yourself regretting it later? Tell us about it.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/5834301616676658375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2011/11/why-ill-start-listening-to-my-gut.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/5834301616676658375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/5834301616676658375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2011/11/why-ill-start-listening-to-my-gut.html' title='Why I&#39;ll Start Listening to My Gut'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMos8NWtluQbgHpTRxelg9JVlNO6L9tc5FTXeZSNFbOgYqvY9gxL47wfKVOVeVlDzB5fbdhUAbbJwneYa62dXidlxEnaCDY51RlXx4x7o9mRRJI5eehatzqCc5zwAdYBDecczIYz3FxSg/s72-c/5719440872_4ab2dec863_m.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-6822233735894797261</id><published>2011-01-30T07:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T07:34:58.057-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="meeting men"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="singles"/><title type='text'>Where should you go to meet men?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5SxSxaiFPW3eYXfd57WqKXbzVeil8neG4UKq3xMAFIkkcfnLeV3XY8z2luFeFMsleoxwVS0xVc5K9mj0DrgoU-fjAex07EQAQxy1B-nqFcFPV0s0hnJ_NJ_PFbl4qHQWn4EuVAKfYGMk/s1600/love.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5SxSxaiFPW3eYXfd57WqKXbzVeil8neG4UKq3xMAFIkkcfnLeV3XY8z2luFeFMsleoxwVS0xVc5K9mj0DrgoU-fjAex07EQAQxy1B-nqFcFPV0s0hnJ_NJ_PFbl4qHQWn4EuVAKfYGMk/s1600/love.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I&#39;ve been having the same conversation, it seems, over and over with my friends.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Where should women go to find nice, attractive, gainfully employed, available men?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At age 30ish, most of us are over the club scene.&amp;nbsp; I love a nice lounge, but a super crowded, huge club? Not unless I have a really special reason to be in there. And I&#39;ve met men out at lounges. So have my friends. Sometimes it turns into a relationship that lasts a while, and sometimes it doesn&#39;t.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I also have a habit of meeting men in odd places. Like the guy who last week appeared, seemingly out of thin air, as I was just about to pump gas, to offer to pump it for me, and of course to ask for my phone number.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lately, I wonder if maybe you should keep an eye out in the most unlikely of places--like while you&#39;re out to eat after a night on the town with your friends. After all, good men need to eat, too. So next time you take that late night trip to Waffle House, Denny&#39;s or IHOP with your girls, don&#39;t be afraid to say hi to the cutie grabbing a bite to eat on his way home. I know of two situations where such meetings worked out well--one resulted in a marriage.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then there are the usual suspects: the grocery store, church, the gym, the local Lowe&#39;s or Home Depot. I have a good friend who met her husband while she was working at a bookstore--one of the options suggested by &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.articlesbase.com/dating-articles/five-good-places-to-meet-someone-to-date-477636.html&quot;&gt;this article&lt;/a&gt;, which also recommends children&#39;s sporting events if you have kids, and of course, the Internet (although I have to say, I&#39;ve &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/11/why-i-may-hang-up-my-eharmony-hat.html&quot;&gt;given up on online dating&lt;/a&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But is there any surefire option...if your name isn&#39;t Chilli and you can&#39;t &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.vh1.com/shows/what_chilli_wants/season_1/series.jhtml&quot;&gt;get a reality show to do the job for you&lt;/a&gt;?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;Where have you had luck meeting good, available men? Single ladies everywhere want to know.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/6822233735894797261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2011/01/where-should-you-go-to-meet-men.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/6822233735894797261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/6822233735894797261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2011/01/where-should-you-go-to-meet-men.html' title='Where should you go to meet men?'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5SxSxaiFPW3eYXfd57WqKXbzVeil8neG4UKq3xMAFIkkcfnLeV3XY8z2luFeFMsleoxwVS0xVc5K9mj0DrgoU-fjAex07EQAQxy1B-nqFcFPV0s0hnJ_NJ_PFbl4qHQWn4EuVAKfYGMk/s72-c/love.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-5357728371332721963</id><published>2010-12-27T21:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T21:20:29.489-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blogging"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="I&#39;m back"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Thanks"/><title type='text'>I&#39;m Back</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqtv3o1nE-cL51s3ASojRF3aOQSR0fPdvmnSIyMG3soMHfKeahgJQ2tOHhcdHmlNWTW-xvm-H73nzdGCUWD7w5UEvElqcHQimPdNqAILKuj-4XCJkz5r_0NF_sVYHd2ULVRAAFnkd0dwc/s1600/post_it_i_m_back.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;176&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqtv3o1nE-cL51s3ASojRF3aOQSR0fPdvmnSIyMG3soMHfKeahgJQ2tOHhcdHmlNWTW-xvm-H73nzdGCUWD7w5UEvElqcHQimPdNqAILKuj-4XCJkz5r_0NF_sVYHd2ULVRAAFnkd0dwc/s320/post_it_i_m_back.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I&#39;m sorry for leaving you all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But it wasn&#39;t personal, I promise.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The last few months have been crazy. First, &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/08/rest-in-peace-mom-i-love-you.html&quot;&gt;my mom died&lt;/a&gt; in August, then it was time to get my baby brother off to college to start his freshman year, and meanwhile, I got the sprained ankle from hell. Eventually, I found out that I needed surgery to repair that ankle...and as a result, I ended up in a leg cast and have been unable to drive for two months.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But that ordeal is almost over and I&#39;m ready to start blogging again, at least kinda regularly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve learned a lot in the past several months, and I am seeing a great guy who has helped make my recovery from surgery easier. I&#39;ve also learned how wonderfully supportive my family, friends and coworkers are. I couldn&#39;t have gotten through the last few months without them. I am blessed, and I hope you all are doing well, too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
More later...as soon as I come up with some new material to blog about. Thanks for sticking with me during my time away. Happy 2011!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/5357728371332721963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/12/im-back.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/5357728371332721963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/5357728371332721963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/12/im-back.html' title='I&#39;m Back'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqtv3o1nE-cL51s3ASojRF3aOQSR0fPdvmnSIyMG3soMHfKeahgJQ2tOHhcdHmlNWTW-xvm-H73nzdGCUWD7w5UEvElqcHQimPdNqAILKuj-4XCJkz5r_0NF_sVYHd2ULVRAAFnkd0dwc/s72-c/post_it_i_m_back.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-5978907748393221290</id><published>2010-08-30T12:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T12:34:23.250-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="death"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mom"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rest in peace"/><title type='text'>Rest In Peace, Mom. I Love You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdzkjScp3UWbtYn728t_ZqZGR6ROm4l3ILgHhTf7mnx3Jd8S0Vwv2gUZ3ajtQRk29o-vdYDbcnVpqNJfJIzXyagxWO64YtvzBhLn75WY9gRwYvYvizq-Kz6qC-I2sO2BQGomhjh4jNIA/s1600/mom.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;301&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdzkjScp3UWbtYn728t_ZqZGR6ROm4l3ILgHhTf7mnx3Jd8S0Vwv2gUZ3ajtQRk29o-vdYDbcnVpqNJfJIzXyagxWO64YtvzBhLn75WY9gRwYvYvizq-Kz6qC-I2sO2BQGomhjh4jNIA/s400/mom.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The biggest fan of this blog died nearly a month ago.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She was my mom. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She had promised to help me turn this blog into a book one day. She, more than anyone else—even me, believed it was good enough to be worthy of putting in print. She was my biggest fan, my biggest supporter, and I miss her more than words on a screen can possibly convey.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You see, it wasn’t just the fact that the blog was mine that made my mom love it. My mom liked that my friends and I took our various dating adventures and turned them into blog posts. But don’t get me wrong, my mom was anxious to marry me off to some nice man. During her last visit to see me in June, she approached a guy’s table while we were out for a drink because I said he was cute. She asked his friend if the cute guy was “taken.” He wasn’t. We went on a few dates after that, all because of my mom. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I treasure that memory…and everything else my mom taught me. She was my best friend, the person who I’d talk to every day even if I hadn’t talked to anyone else. I was her baby girl—the middle child in the midst of an older sister and two younger brothers—yet she spoiled me until the day she died. I learned the day she died that it’s true when they say that no one loves you quite the way your mom does. But that’s okay because I will carry the love we shared with me for the rest of my life. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have always had this thing where I tell my parents, my grandmom, and my brothers I love them before we hang up the phone, and they always say it back. For some reason, that’s been really comforting because I know my mom knows how much I love her. I don’t doubt that she still knows it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess what I’m trying to say is, Thanks, Mom. I won’t get to call to thank you for giving me life on my birthday anymore, so I say it here for you to read from Heaven. I love you, I miss you, and I’ll see you again one day.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/5978907748393221290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/08/rest-in-peace-mom-i-love-you.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/5978907748393221290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/5978907748393221290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/08/rest-in-peace-mom-i-love-you.html' title='Rest In Peace, Mom. I Love You'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOdzkjScp3UWbtYn728t_ZqZGR6ROm4l3ILgHhTf7mnx3Jd8S0Vwv2gUZ3ajtQRk29o-vdYDbcnVpqNJfJIzXyagxWO64YtvzBhLn75WY9gRwYvYvizq-Kz6qC-I2sO2BQGomhjh4jNIA/s72-c/mom.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-3793771934429472144</id><published>2010-07-27T19:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T19:26:12.963-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Chilli"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Flava Flav"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Omarosa"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="reality tv"/><title type='text'>Reality TV Show to Find a Man? Um, Not For Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpx398DMIR6YEj-ITScW_WG5dDezn1LPnqqVoUHwZVuZ3dcZ_WTpRXHgovvfl89cCpKsbQsb3VawaLzYt0Ls7vHSpmUboo92_Yhhcip_emEuhx8uTl4vk93pnvSI718mKtM1_V51TRRZA/s1600/reality_tv.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpx398DMIR6YEj-ITScW_WG5dDezn1LPnqqVoUHwZVuZ3dcZ_WTpRXHgovvfl89cCpKsbQsb3VawaLzYt0Ls7vHSpmUboo92_Yhhcip_emEuhx8uTl4vk93pnvSI718mKtM1_V51TRRZA/s400/reality_tv.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Would you ever go on a reality TV show to find a mate?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Omarosa did it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Bret Michaels did it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Flavor Flav did it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ray J did it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hell, even Chilli from TLC did it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, if offered the opportunity, would you give it a shot?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Recently, a good friend suggested that I need my own reality dating show. The &lt;i&gt;&#39;What FabFem Needs Because She Won&#39;t Put Up With BS&#39;&lt;/i&gt; show.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don&#39;t think I need to go that far. Sure, I&#39;ve had my fair share of dating mishaps, but I&#39;m still plugging along, although I&#39;ve given up online dating since being &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/04/is-courtship-dead.html&quot;&gt;confronted by the creepy eHarmony match&lt;/a&gt; at a lounge in DC.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And even my recent experiences haven&#39;t soured me completely. There was the cutie who took me on one nice date and then canceled on me at the last minute three times in the following week--and then wondered why I lost interest. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And there was the guy who damn near chased me down at a lounge to get my number--and then he asked me to say my number *out loud* instead of entering it directly into his cellphone. Why, you may ask? I suspected he was taken. So I said, &quot;&lt;i&gt;That&#39;s suspicious. Only men who are &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/7-ways-to-tell-if-man-is-married.html&quot;&gt;married, engaged or have girlfriends&lt;/a&gt; won&#39;t let you put your number in their phone&lt;/i&gt;.&quot; His response? &quot;&lt;i&gt;I&#39;m not engaged and I don&#39;t have a girlfriend.&lt;/i&gt;&quot; Me: &quot;&lt;i&gt;You&#39;re married?!&lt;/i&gt;&quot; -- as I walked away. He yelled after me, &quot;&lt;i&gt;Does that mean I should erase your number&lt;/i&gt;?&quot; Me: &quot;&lt;i&gt;YES!&lt;/i&gt;&quot; *shakes head ferociously*&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There is also the guy I met at the gym who doesn&#39;t seem quite sure what he does for a living. He told me he does &quot;paperwork&quot; and then, when pressed for more info, came up with a more professional sounding title. Problem is, I think he made it up. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But I digress. They can&#39;t all be bad, I figure. And I don&#39;t believe I have to go on TV to find a man. There are a couple of promising guys in the mix, but it&#39;s too early to tell how they&#39;ll pan out. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Meanwhile, I have no plans to make a reality TV debut.&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK: &lt;/b&gt;What about you? Would you consider going on a reality TV show to find a mate?&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/3793771934429472144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/07/reality-tv-show-to-find-man-um-not-for.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/3793771934429472144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/3793771934429472144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/07/reality-tv-show-to-find-man-um-not-for.html' title='Reality TV Show to Find a Man? Um, Not For Me'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpx398DMIR6YEj-ITScW_WG5dDezn1LPnqqVoUHwZVuZ3dcZ_WTpRXHgovvfl89cCpKsbQsb3VawaLzYt0Ls7vHSpmUboo92_Yhhcip_emEuhx8uTl4vk93pnvSI718mKtM1_V51TRRZA/s72-c/reality_tv.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-330490503623552927</id><published>2010-07-23T12:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-23T12:27:23.374-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="clothing diet"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guest blog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nina Lovehall"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="six items or less"/><title type='text'>Clothing &quot;Diet&quot;? I Probably Won&#39;t Try It</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLxdbTjdadiSWbNlvHd1EE29ndX2riq25tBr108yX4SjdzvGcAEl6OBI-cplsNV2KnvYD64JBVSW2ZpVq8D2nfM4qbqE2my_SpaQNA3JFcuGqaJ739HKWPPhNLExBmK2Z0OKz24dgIei8/s1600/clothes.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLxdbTjdadiSWbNlvHd1EE29ndX2riq25tBr108yX4SjdzvGcAEl6OBI-cplsNV2KnvYD64JBVSW2ZpVq8D2nfM4qbqE2my_SpaQNA3JFcuGqaJ739HKWPPhNLExBmK2Z0OKz24dgIei8/s400/clothes.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;By: Guest Blogger &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/introducing-guest-blogger-nina-lovehall_5153.html&quot;&gt;NINA    LOVEHALL&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
The New York Times has a &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/22/fashion/22SIXERS.html?pagewanted=1&amp;amp;_r=1&quot;&gt;fascinating article &lt;/a&gt;about a movement called &quot;Six Items or Less,&quot; where folks stick to just six items of clothing for one month. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As someone who loves clothes, loves online shopping, in-store shopping, and window shopping, , it&#39;s a tough concept for me to fathom. Nonetheless, I&#39;m very intrigued. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But as I think about it, it would be an awesome challenge. I&#39;d like to think that I&#39;m pretty creative working with the clothes I already have and making them feel new and fresh as I mix and match on lazy weekends or laundry days. On a quarterly basis, I go through my closet, trying on things (to see if they still fit or need to go to Goodwill) and brainstorm ways to breathe new life into my old duds (creative layering, accessories, etc). It&#39;s a lot of fun and I often surprise myself. Sometimes I manage to fall in love all over again and old (sometimes forgotten) favorites return to the rotation with a twist. The more I think about it, I may have to rethink this blog&#39;s headline. I&#39;d probably do better sticking to the &quot;Six Items or Less&quot; challenge than I would avoiding McDonald&#39;s fries or sticking to a concrete, everyday workout plan for an entire month. That&#39;s sad, and that&#39;s a whole other blog. I digress. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But as we go through these difficult financial times, doing the wardrobe purge may not a bad idea in terms of creatively saving some money. Honestly, it&#39;s a pretty cool experiment for those brave enough to participate. In fact, folks that were interviewed in the Times piece learned that in most cases, they didn&#39;t need all of the clothes they did have, and the people around them didn&#39;t even notice they were interchanging the same six items for that entire month.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK:&lt;/b&gt; So, fabulous ones, could you work the hell out of the same six items for an entire month? Or is that just fashion blasphemy? &lt;/i&gt;I have to admit it&#39;s an awesome challenge for the savviest of fashionistas.&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/330490503623552927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/07/clothing-diet-i-probably-wont-try-it.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/330490503623552927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/330490503623552927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/07/clothing-diet-i-probably-wont-try-it.html' title='Clothing &quot;Diet&quot;? I Probably Won&#39;t Try It'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLxdbTjdadiSWbNlvHd1EE29ndX2riq25tBr108yX4SjdzvGcAEl6OBI-cplsNV2KnvYD64JBVSW2ZpVq8D2nfM4qbqE2my_SpaQNA3JFcuGqaJ739HKWPPhNLExBmK2Z0OKz24dgIei8/s72-c/clothes.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-92652032373397501</id><published>2010-06-30T19:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-30T19:10:49.195-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Alicia Keys"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cheating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guest blog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="jumpoff"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nina Lovehall"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sideline ho"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Swizz Beatz"/><title type='text'>Not Every Sideline Chick Can Be Alicia Keys</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLHtN0fagnUgQxQc3fUdfe7SzRyJwVMvYhWGwCKH22fn1YtXSQj236ZMNajfme3wFadWuqFD7QDdxmLzFlF7DIu5SWPuIF0uSow90VaJnhkMSBFd10E2-zKSBdUSwC7rYu6hZIOUj7N9c/s1600/swizzalicia.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;266&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLHtN0fagnUgQxQc3fUdfe7SzRyJwVMvYhWGwCKH22fn1YtXSQj236ZMNajfme3wFadWuqFD7QDdxmLzFlF7DIu5SWPuIF0uSow90VaJnhkMSBFd10E2-zKSBdUSwC7rYu6hZIOUj7N9c/s400/swizzalicia.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;By: Guest Blogger &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/introducing-guest-blogger-nina-lovehall_5153.html&quot;&gt;NINA    LOVEHALL&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The chance that a sidepiece will actually get the guy to leave his wife/girlfriend to marry her and live happily ever after is kind of like going to a Louis Vuitton store every single day believing that one of these days, there&#39;s going to be a sale.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It just ain&#39;t gonna happen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sure, women can buy a used Louis for a substantially discounted rate on Ebay or at a consignment store (if you are lucky), but even then, the bag is used, and its authenticity is questioned. It may actually be a real Louis, but you&#39;ve robbed yourself of the joy of walking into the store and them wrapping it up ever so nicely and placing it in that box and walking out of the store with your prize nestled in that shopping bag. It&#39;s yours. It&#39;s new. It&#39;s real. It&#39;s got a guarantee. Plain and simple. That back room bargain always seems to taint the exclusivity of having such a luxury item in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s the same idea if you&#39;re actively and knowingly pursuing a man who isn&#39;t your own.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But recently, international superstar Alicia Keys has done the almost impossible. She&#39;s made it snow in the desert. She&#39;s just sold water to a well. She&#39;s done what countless sidepieces over the ages have tried to accomplish but have often failed at.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She managed to get music producer Swizz Beatz to finally divorce his wife, and she&#39;s having his baby. It&#39;s been reported that they plan to tie the knot in the fall. (The jury is still out, in my opinion, until then. For a man to leave one marriage and jump into another... I don&#39;t know, girl, good luck.) But despite being called a homewrecker and having some serious Twitter beef with Swizz Beatz&#39;s ex wife, Alicia stuck it out and &lt;a href=&quot;http://marquee.blogs.cnn.com/2010/06/22/alicia-keys-and-swizz-beatz-bless-unborn-baby/&quot;&gt;got the guy&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, I want to send a message to all the sidepieces who now consider Alicia to be their patron saint and believe that her current good fortune is a sign of things to come in their own situations: Y&#39;all are sadly mistaken and delusional. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m not passing judgment on her because I love A. Keys, too. She&#39;s an awesome musician and performer, and her humanitarian efforts really set her apart from a lot of other artists. She&#39;s beautiful, humble and has talent coming out of every pore. She&#39;s a hardworking woman, who like all of us hardworking women, deserves a real shot at love and happiness. She&#39;s certainly got that love glow going on these days.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But if you are out there creeping with someone else&#39;s man and you aren&#39;t Alicia Keys, chances are HE AIN&#39;T LEAVING and when he does commit to someone, it probably won&#39;t be you. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve seen this thing play out a million times. Monica has a great song from one of her older albums called &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4vVa9zS9fI&quot;&gt;Sideline Ho&lt;/a&gt;. She ticks off a list of things that if your &quot;man&quot; isn&#39;t doing with or for you, you are indeed the side chick, and he&#39;s not going to leave his main chick/wifey.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So sideline chicks, sidepieces, jumpoffs, breezies, shorties, or whatever you are, hold off on the tickertape parade for Alicia, and don&#39;t start up your own wedding registries just yet.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will give Swizz Beatz credit for going ahead and divorcing his ex and giving Alicia that show of faith, but it&#39;s always a worrisome thought wondering once you get that man, if he&#39;ll do the same thing to you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That&#39;s the other thing about a used bag. There is usually no return policy where you can at least get a store credit to start all over again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK: &lt;/b&gt;Have you ever knowingly gone after a man who was unavailable, hoping he would choose you? &lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/92652032373397501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/06/not-every-sideline-chick-can-be-alicia.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/92652032373397501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/92652032373397501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/06/not-every-sideline-chick-can-be-alicia.html' title='Not Every Sideline Chick Can Be Alicia Keys'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLHtN0fagnUgQxQc3fUdfe7SzRyJwVMvYhWGwCKH22fn1YtXSQj236ZMNajfme3wFadWuqFD7QDdxmLzFlF7DIu5SWPuIF0uSow90VaJnhkMSBFd10E2-zKSBdUSwC7rYu6hZIOUj7N9c/s72-c/swizzalicia.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-3914413155434028601</id><published>2010-06-18T10:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-18T10:32:48.806-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="adventure"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="change"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guest blog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nina Lovehall"/><title type='text'>Nina&#39;s Prediction: Extreme Change May Lead to Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIkdVUIf60emndA-5qN7K8iQLYoCG0WqFP_UBOZUDJHcALl-XXIo1QeiGZIjlFnMtLyUrXZCjzfqZsNsqWynKy-rjwlaWy9ZHphNU0Z5cNZR_cQbtiFztgo4TPwGr0GuFcDoMg0GRYUg/s1600/sign.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIkdVUIf60emndA-5qN7K8iQLYoCG0WqFP_UBOZUDJHcALl-XXIo1QeiGZIjlFnMtLyUrXZCjzfqZsNsqWynKy-rjwlaWy9ZHphNU0Z5cNZR_cQbtiFztgo4TPwGr0GuFcDoMg0GRYUg/s320/sign.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;By: Guest Blogger &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/introducing-guest-blogger-nina-lovehall_5153.html&quot;&gt;NINA   LOVEHALL&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A dear, dear friend of mine is taking a job overseas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m thrilled for her, a little nervous about her safety or how how she will handle really bad bouts of homesickness, but still I look at this new adventure for her with great optimism and pride.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Not only is she going to embark on something that will help her professionally, but I do believe after having a lull in the love department, that area may pick up as well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s actually a secret thought that I&#39;ve had since she announced her pending move. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let&#39;s face it. My friend is an unapologetic, outspoken, out-of-the-box kind of thinker. She&#39;ll quit a job she hates with the quickness, she&#39;ll travel when the need suits her, she&#39;ll go back to school for another degree, she&#39;ll jump out of planes for fun or she&#39;ll learn mixed martial arts.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A conventional man can&#39;t handle her. She doesn&#39;t want a conventional man. And she&#39;s not going to meet her non-conventional man in a conventional way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why do I think will she meet an awesome guy where she&#39;s going? Because that guy is probably just like her. What makes this fantasy union in my head more fabulous (aside from the fact it&#39;s international and that&#39;s always sexy) is the fact that they won&#39;t even be looking for each other when they do meet. They&#39;ll both just be looking for adventure and will stumble upon each other in the process, in probably a really competitive manner-- which both of them will find hot and irresistible.&amp;nbsp; That&#39;s how I imagine it. She will be more vulnerable than usual in this strange land and can let go to this kindred adventurous spirit more so than while being here in the states, and from there, I think love may blossom faster than you can fill a 3-ounce bottle with your favorite hair product.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The fantastic, and yet equally frustrating thing about my bud, is her ability not to settle. That&#39;s in both her personal life and professional life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It seemed that everything was stacked against her in terms of her dreams and trying to find her way. Keep in mind the dream job she finally snagged took around five years of dead ends and disappointments to finally achieve.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She had to face her parents bringing home job applications and watching her friends and even her younger sibling make great strides in their professional lives. I&#39;d cringe for her when people would (sometimes harshly) ask what she&#39;s doing with her life. Even I wanted her to take a more safe route. Sometimes I thought she was being stubborn and unrealistic. I told her, &quot;You&#39;ve got to do something even if you don&#39;t like it, boo. That&#39;s life, that&#39;s being an adult. I hate seeing you in this situation.&quot; She&#39;d take a deep breath. She&#39;d tell me that something is bound to happen and kept relentlessly courting the companies she wanted to work with overseas and staying up till the wee hours of the morning watching television shows from that country of her desire and learning the language until something came through. Finally it did. And I couldn&#39;t be happier for her.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That kind of faith, that kind of tenacity-- despite what even your closest family and friends say-- makes me quite sure that once her professional endeavors start clicking for her, love won&#39;t be too far behind. And when it comes, it&#39;s going to be just as exhilirating as her getting that offer letter and that plane taking off.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;TALK BACK:&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;i&gt; Do you think settling in life and settling in love go hand in hand?&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/3914413155434028601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/06/ninas-prediction-extreme-change-may.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/3914413155434028601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/3914413155434028601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/06/ninas-prediction-extreme-change-may.html' title='Nina&#39;s Prediction: Extreme Change May Lead to Love'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwIkdVUIf60emndA-5qN7K8iQLYoCG0WqFP_UBOZUDJHcALl-XXIo1QeiGZIjlFnMtLyUrXZCjzfqZsNsqWynKy-rjwlaWy9ZHphNU0Z5cNZR_cQbtiFztgo4TPwGr0GuFcDoMg0GRYUg/s72-c/sign.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-1788109885574117693</id><published>2010-06-17T15:06:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-17T18:37:33.675-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="neighbors"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prince Charming"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Stalker Neighbor"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stalkers"/><title type='text'>Beware of the Stalker Neighbor</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYsu7382PIkND99MGGhWX5KwOcoaCTRZKfJLIhoN6GWVtE9dJZ5FNb13OvudAygo2P8nQJNAXXZmSLTlADhzBT4DO02OIG98eeTxVsxnmxpxbnN17AaE9TiKxqW6QyQ1gyw7EW-TYr-Oo/s1600/stalking.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYsu7382PIkND99MGGhWX5KwOcoaCTRZKfJLIhoN6GWVtE9dJZ5FNb13OvudAygo2P8nQJNAXXZmSLTlADhzBT4DO02OIG98eeTxVsxnmxpxbnN17AaE9TiKxqW6QyQ1gyw7EW-TYr-Oo/s320/stalking.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I&#39;ve said a time or two before that I &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/06/6-signs-guy-youre-dating-may-be-crazy.html&quot;&gt;attract crazies&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today just solidified that I do it without even trying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I walked out to my car at about 8 a.m. to head to work. I noticed a folded up piece of paper on my windshield when I got in the car. So I reached to grab it. There I found a typewritten note that said the following (punctuation and capitalization copied exactly from the note):&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&quot;Dear FabFem,&lt;br /&gt;
I have been attracted to you from the first moment I saw you. I was walking to the grocery store on a Saturday morning to &lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_hide&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_link&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=8671904682260320456&amp;amp;postID=1788109885574117693&quot; onclick=&quot;CSS.addClass($(&amp;quot;text_expose_id_4c1a6824084c84f3c7e52&amp;quot;), &amp;quot;text_exposed&amp;quot;);&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;get milk.&lt;br /&gt;
My first chance meeting with you was the snow storm. I was helping people get out of their parking spaces...and then comes this Angel of BEAUTY!!!&lt;br /&gt;
I did my deed, and then I gathered my courage to ask you for your phone number...and you said you had a boyfriend? I don&#39;t know if that was a nice way of letting me down or if you were involved with another man.? But if things have changed or if I can be a friend?...I was hoping you could call me at XXX-XXX-XXXX or XXX-XXX-XXXX. I would like to take you out to eat and we could get to know each other better!&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m a little shy and clumsy when I try to talk to a Beautiful woman such as yourself for the first time.Which you probably noticed. That&#39;s why I decided to write what I feel!&lt;br /&gt;
Stalker Neighbor &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;[Real name omitted]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
stalkerneighbor@neighbor.net&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;The note struck me as a cross between sweet... and creepy. First of all, he approached me during the snowstorm? ... You mean the one in February? And four months later, you&#39;re still watching me and typed up a note to put on my car? Hmmm. Then I thought about if I remembered who this guy was. Turns out I do. I remember thinking he &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/02/when-neighbors-try-to-holla.html&quot;&gt;seemed creepy in person&lt;/a&gt;, so I told him I had a boyfriend (&lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/05/wtf-of-day-man-shoots-woman-for-not.html&quot;&gt;my usual line&lt;/a&gt; when I &lt;strike&gt;want a guy to go away&lt;/strike&gt; am not interested)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;Little did I know, he didn&#39;t forget that conversation, even if I had.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;Walking into work today, I decided to google his phone number. After all, he&#39;d given me his cellphone and home phone numbers AND his e-mail address. A little googling got me his full name and address. Soon, I used that info to see if he had a criminal record, something a female cop once told me to do if I ever thought a guy pursuing me was weird, just to see what I&#39;m dealing with.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;Oh boy. I didn&#39;t expect what came next. Sometimes, information is power, and other times, it can scare the hell out of you. Turns out Stalker Neighbor has been charged in the past few years with stalking, assault, false imprisonment, disorderly conduct, trespassing, possession of a deadly weapon, and a peace/restraining order had been issued against him a couple years back.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;Whoa. Mind you, he lives like a block from me, and I think I can be pretty sure he&#39;s been watching me. Sigh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;I phoned &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/search/label/Prince%20Charming&quot;&gt;Prince Charming&lt;/a&gt;, who when he isn&#39;t saving the day for me, is a police officer by profession. He wanted to go knock on dude&#39;s door.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;But I couldn&#39;t let him do that. That could turn out really, really badly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;Instead, I okayed PC calling him. PC told SN over the phone that he was my boyfriend and that while I appreciated the flattery, I wasn&#39;t interested. He said SN took it well, said he understood and respected that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;Let&#39;s hope so. Meanwhile, I think I&#39;ll go buy some pepper spray.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK: &lt;/b&gt;Have you ever had an overly aggressive neighbor who wanted to date you? How did you handle it? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/1788109885574117693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/06/beware-of-stalker-neighbor.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/1788109885574117693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/1788109885574117693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/06/beware-of-stalker-neighbor.html' title='Beware of the Stalker Neighbor'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYsu7382PIkND99MGGhWX5KwOcoaCTRZKfJLIhoN6GWVtE9dJZ5FNb13OvudAygo2P8nQJNAXXZmSLTlADhzBT4DO02OIG98eeTxVsxnmxpxbnN17AaE9TiKxqW6QyQ1gyw7EW-TYr-Oo/s72-c/stalking.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-3545315903707407046</id><published>2010-06-03T12:28:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-03T12:37:51.588-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="crazy dudes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="domestic abuse"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mr. Courtship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mr. Crazy"/><title type='text'>6 Signs the Guy You&#39;re Dating May Be Crazy Or Abusive</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyipe-TmPQ5P_cQ5D1X2P_gLCGRFFzhaY8aDjFmfF022WbahdTJic16pYxy7OGQNjYV5z9EmX5J5Txnv7v4mNhuuMmrBKLO9VfswZdFKsvt2Hs2G4uD1DKkqZzl9XHpekziDKlTrifWpU/s1600/abuse.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;214&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyipe-TmPQ5P_cQ5D1X2P_gLCGRFFzhaY8aDjFmfF022WbahdTJic16pYxy7OGQNjYV5z9EmX5J5Txnv7v4mNhuuMmrBKLO9VfswZdFKsvt2Hs2G4uD1DKkqZzl9XHpekziDKlTrifWpU/s320/abuse.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;ve tried to work on my patience over the years.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You know, not be so quick to cut guys off over small things.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I try to see the good in people but also not ignore the bad. Unfortunately, I think I failed miserably when it came to Mr. Courtship.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mr. Courtship said all the right things... at first. He took me out, we had great conversation, and he showed an interest in the people and things that matter to me most. And, perhaps the best part of all... He cooks. Very well.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But after a few weeks, I started to have some concerns about Mr. C. I realized that he was impatient, almost unreasonably so, at times. Not with me. But just over small things that it seemed unreasonable to get upset about.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And soon, his impatience did turn to me. Like one early morning when I didn&#39;t answer his phone call because I was in the shower. I called him back after I&#39;d gotten dressed when I was in the car, on my way whereever I was headed that day. Sounds reasonable, right? Not to Mr. C. This fool actually suggested that I should get in the habit of putting my cellphone on the toilet basin so that I can hear it--and answer it--even when I am in the shower. I searched for a hint he was joking. Couldn&#39;t find one. So I moved on, with that tucked into my mind as a &lt;b&gt;RED FLAG&lt;/b&gt; that I should keep an eye on.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Not long after that, I decided to cut Mr. C off, not just because of that incident, but because I caught him in a major lie and decided it was time for him to go. Unfortunately, I think he realized his time had come -- so he refused to answer the phone. I finally sent him a text message asking him not to contact me anymore. Then, four days passed -- mind you, we had talked daily since we met until then -- with no word from him, so I thought he was abiding by my wishes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But on the fourth day, he called me around 5:30 p.m. I didn&#39;t answer. He then called three more times up until 7:30 p.m., when he left me the following message:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&quot;Yo, you&#39;re gonna answer your God%amn phone. I&#39;m going to f$%k you up. You better answer your phone. Why can&#39;t I get in contact with you at 7:31? Yeah, alright. You gonna get your @ss whooped.&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, I&#39;m serious. He really did leave me that message for no reason other than I hadn&#39;t answered my cellphone for two &lt;i&gt;(TWO?!)&lt;/i&gt; hours after not hearing from him for four days. And this time, I was sure there was no hint in his voice that he was joking. He&#39;d never laid a hand on me and I never thought I had a reason to fear him...&lt;i&gt;before&lt;/i&gt; that message.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I left him a voicemail the next day advising him that if he ever threatened me again, I would call the police and that I meant it when I told him several days prior that I was done talking to him. We spoke once over the phone after that--because I believe that when it comes to crazy people, it&#39;s good to know &lt;strike&gt;they&#39;re not coming to kill you&lt;/strike&gt; where their heads are--and he told me he was over it and wouldn&#39;t bother me again. Let&#39;s hope he means that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Meanwhile, I learned some valuable lessons from my experience with Mr. C (and let&#39;s call him Mr. Crazy from now on). Here are 6 signs the dude you&#39;re dating may be crazy or potentially abusive:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. He complains constantly and/or always points out something he thinks you do wrong.&lt;br /&gt;
2. He always thinks you&#39;re wrong, even about stuff you know you&#39;re educated about.&lt;br /&gt;
3. He cuts you off mid-sentence and hangs up on you... say, once every week or two.&lt;br /&gt;
4. He gets an attitude when you don&#39;t answer your phone, even for reasonable time periods.&lt;br /&gt;
5. He complains when you go out with friends, even occasionally.&lt;br /&gt;
6. He gets mad if you speak to a friend or associate of his--and I do mean just &quot;hello&quot;--when he isn&#39;t present.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK:&lt;/b&gt; Did I miss any signs a guy may be crazy or potentially abusive? Let me know by commenting!&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/3545315903707407046/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/06/6-signs-guy-youre-dating-may-be-crazy.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/3545315903707407046'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/3545315903707407046'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/06/6-signs-guy-youre-dating-may-be-crazy.html' title='6 Signs the Guy You&#39;re Dating May Be Crazy Or Abusive'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyipe-TmPQ5P_cQ5D1X2P_gLCGRFFzhaY8aDjFmfF022WbahdTJic16pYxy7OGQNjYV5z9EmX5J5Txnv7v4mNhuuMmrBKLO9VfswZdFKsvt2Hs2G4uD1DKkqZzl9XHpekziDKlTrifWpU/s72-c/abuse.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-3936565864685894311</id><published>2010-05-03T15:25:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T15:33:14.455-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="187"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="crazy dudes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guns"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="men"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="rejection"/><title type='text'>WTF of the Day: Man Shoots Woman for Not Giving Out Her Phone Number</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiymW2RDzktxi8IWV34GQq4K_3CsCcayjEM7p5gHxBc-Ix994np12wih3-yDKlBk5ZMVGg0ms9ucRfp7SwsXyCHF3VIG9tMdLGQfM6h-cOT7lAnz8ZHABM2Yo7dUE35Ajo2-UOzkgaWXxk/s1600/dude-wtf.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;254&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiymW2RDzktxi8IWV34GQq4K_3CsCcayjEM7p5gHxBc-Ix994np12wih3-yDKlBk5ZMVGg0ms9ucRfp7SwsXyCHF3VIG9tMdLGQfM6h-cOT7lAnz8ZHABM2Yo7dUE35Ajo2-UOzkgaWXxk/s320/dude-wtf.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I have a standard line when a man approaches me and I&#39;m not interested: &lt;i&gt;&quot;I have a boyfriend.&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sure, it&#39;s not always 100 percent effective. I&#39;ve heard -- &lt;i&gt;&quot;What&#39;s your man got to do with me?&quot;&lt;/i&gt; -- more times than I can count. (&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VvYIpa1Ulvw&quot;&gt;Thanks, Postive K&lt;/a&gt;, for planting this &lt;strike&gt;lame&lt;/strike&gt; line in fellas&#39; heads.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But never... never ... never have I had a man *pull a gun* (!) on me for saying I&#39;m not interested, like &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.myfoxdc.com/dpp/news/local/college-student-shot-because-she-would-not-give-man-her-phone-number-050310&quot;&gt;what happened to this college student&lt;/a&gt;, home from school visiting her family in Washington, D.C. She says a guy asked for her phone number as she left a party this past weekend. She said no. He threatened to shoot her if she didn&#39;t give up her digits. When she still refused to do so, he did just that. He shot her in the leg.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Really?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seriously?!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Who does that?!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
WTF! &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It got me to thinking. What is the best approach for rejecting a guy so that he doesn&#39;t, &lt;i&gt;you know,&lt;/i&gt; shoot you? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I say I have a boyfriend because I figure it&#39;s a gentler way to deal with the male ego. It&#39;s my way of saying, &lt;i&gt;&#39;See, I&#39;m not rejecting you outright. But I&#39;m already taken.&#39;&lt;/i&gt; They don&#39;t know it&#39;s not true, so they go away. Problem solved.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I once gave my number to a guy out of sympathy--because I thought he seemed nice (at &lt;i&gt;FIRST&lt;/i&gt;), although I knew I&#39;d never date him. I ultimately regretted it because I realized he was a little crazy in our first phone call. Then I started ignoring his calls. That&#39;s when he started stalking me on MySpace (back before Facebook took over) and by phone, putting in &#39;187&#39; (think: &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1deWMfRy7U&quot;&gt;Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre&#39;&lt;/a&gt;) as the number to page me. I ultimately had to file a police report and change my number.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Because of that one horrible experience, I stick with my fictitious boyfriend lie to avoid stalkers. I&#39;ve thought about giving out a fake number or using a service such as &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.humorhotlines.com/&quot;&gt;the Rejection Hotline&lt;/a&gt; (never heard of it? call 202-452-7468 for a good laugh), but that&#39;s a no-go, since most guys call you on the spot before you even have a chance to walk away. So far, I guess I&#39;m doing a good job. No guns or knives have ever been pulled on me. Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK: &lt;/b&gt;How do you tell a guy &#39;no&#39; when he asks for your number and you&#39;re not interested? Does it scare you to hear the story of a young woman being shot for refusing to give out her number?&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/3936565864685894311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/05/wtf-of-day-man-shoots-woman-for-not.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/3936565864685894311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/3936565864685894311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/05/wtf-of-day-man-shoots-woman-for-not.html' title='WTF of the Day: Man Shoots Woman for Not Giving Out Her Phone Number'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiymW2RDzktxi8IWV34GQq4K_3CsCcayjEM7p5gHxBc-Ix994np12wih3-yDKlBk5ZMVGg0ms9ucRfp7SwsXyCHF3VIG9tMdLGQfM6h-cOT7lAnz8ZHABM2Yo7dUE35Ajo2-UOzkgaWXxk/s72-c/dude-wtf.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-4279061327914333442</id><published>2010-04-22T15:48:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T13:29:43.467-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cheapskie"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="courting"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="courtship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Mr. Courtship"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationships"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Weed Smoker"/><title type='text'>Is Courtship Dead?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA2UkVMTVfCYNXZwC8RR0aqr5hmNz67Ia8xR0p_68JZWN69Vc3uONxE5E9BEP6NZmGvDbEKAoJeVGFpLmN-BpbA7msvFqZAXAmNN9DMKyP_Sh0HAsV0NJ2tVWyCMD6NAu_LWHh_kmqKQw/s1600/flowers.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA2UkVMTVfCYNXZwC8RR0aqr5hmNz67Ia8xR0p_68JZWN69Vc3uONxE5E9BEP6NZmGvDbEKAoJeVGFpLmN-BpbA7msvFqZAXAmNN9DMKyP_Sh0HAsV0NJ2tVWyCMD6NAu_LWHh_kmqKQw/s320/flowers.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Courting, according to Webster&#39;s Dictionary, means &lt;i&gt;&quot;&lt;b&gt;&lt;/b&gt;to seek the affections of; &lt;i&gt;especially&lt;/i&gt;&lt;b&gt;:&lt;/b&gt; to seek to win a pledge of marriage from&quot;&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;&quot;to engage in social activities leading to engagement and marriage.&quot; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It seems simple, right? A guy who is serious about dating you will &lt;i&gt;court&lt;/i&gt; you--in effect, he&#39;s showing he&#39;s serious about you by taking you on dates *&lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/no-you-cant-come-to-my-house.html&quot;&gt;outside of the house&lt;/a&gt;,* to public places, as you get to know one another.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As Steve Harvey once said on Oprah in an interview about his book, &lt;i&gt;Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man&lt;/i&gt;, a &quot;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.oprah.com/relationships/Steve-Harveys-Dating-Advice-for-Women/3&quot;&gt;man with a plan&lt;/a&gt;&quot; &lt;i&gt;wants &lt;/i&gt;to court you. He knows from early on--maybe even your first meeting or phone conversation--what his intentions are for you. If he sees the possibility of getting serious with you, he courts you. Plain and simple.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will admit that I thought courtship was nearly dead. But I still held out a little, eensy, weensy, teeny bit of hope.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After guys trying to lay up in my house before we really know one another, &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/01/first-day-of-year-first-bad-date-of.html&quot;&gt;feeling themselves up on dinner dates&lt;/a&gt;, and acting crazy and deranged, I almost thought I&#39;d never meet a man who was (A) normal (&lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/02/weeding-out-potential-stalkers.html&quot;&gt;no stalking&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/04/three-red-flag-indicators-of-crazy.html&quot;&gt;signs of craziness&lt;/a&gt;); (B) wasn&#39;t &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/7-ways-to-tell-if-man-is-married.html&quot;&gt;married/engaged/already taken&lt;/a&gt;; and (C) actually believed in courtship...especially not after the guy from a few weeks ago, who we&#39;ll call Cheapskie, who told me that going out for&lt;i&gt; ice cream&lt;/i&gt; (yes, ice cream, people, ICE CREAM) was &quot;a luxury&quot; that he wasn&#39;t willing to spend money on me for and instead invited me to his home for ice cream from his freezer -- as a first date, mind you-- when I barely knew him. Um, how about &lt;i&gt;NO&lt;/i&gt;!? I declined.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Still, while I hadn&#39;t given up on men completely, I generally do me--work hard at my 9-5 and play hard with my girlfriends after hours, whether it&#39;s dinner or drinks after work or a night out at a nice lounge. I figured one day, maybe just maybe, I&#39;d meet someone who was more interested in getting to know &lt;i&gt;me&lt;/i&gt; and courting me than in simply laying up in my home or his.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was on one of these nights out with a girlfriend that I met Mr. Courtship. My friend and I noticed him when he came into the lounge--he&#39;s cute, tall and broad like a football player--but he didn&#39;t notice us at the time. Later, as my girlfriend chatted with a guy she&#39;d just met, I walked around the lounge by myself, checking out the scenery. That&#39;s when Mr. C approached. We exchanged numbers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That night, Mr. C called to make sure I got home safe, and the next day, he asked me out on a date. We ended up hanging out that night until 6 a.m. the next morning--dinner, drinks, a party, and then just sitting in the car talking until the sun came up. He talked about believing in courtship. I smiled.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mr. C lives about three hours away, but every day since we met, we&#39;ve talked on the phone a few times per day. The next weekend, he came back to visit me. He cooked (it was delicious!). I swooned. And he shows an interest in my life and the people and things I care most about.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Seems like that shouldn&#39;t be so hard to find in the dating world, don&#39;t you think? Um.... notsomuch. But I think maybe I&#39;ve figured it out. Mr. C, at least from what I can tell so far, is ready to be settled and is not playing any games. If I&#39;d met him five or 10 years ago, that might not have been the case, as he would&#39;ve been in a different &quot;season&quot; of his life. And maybe that&#39;s been my problem overall: Meeting men when they&#39;re still in &quot;player season&quot; rather than &quot;settle-down season.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
For a while, I thought &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/11/why-i-may-hang-up-my-eharmony-hat.html&quot;&gt;online dating&lt;/a&gt;--my site of choice was eHarmony--was the key to finding men who were serious about dating and over the games.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Unfortunately, I learned that online dating is also a good way to find socially inept weirdos...such as the guy (you know him as &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/11/adventures-in-online-dating-beware-of.html&quot;&gt;Weed Smoker&lt;/a&gt;) who approached me in &#39;real life&#39; at a lounge--on the same night I met Mr. C--and told me he met me online and that we&#39;d lost touch. &lt;i&gt;Sigh.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I quickly recalled who he was--and that &lt;i&gt;ONE&lt;/i&gt; (and only one) phone convo we had in which I realized he was crazy, I pretended not to be the person he thought I was. I don&#39;t think he bought it. I quickly got away as he started discussing how much he liked my toes &lt;i&gt;(double sigh)&lt;/i&gt; and then he followed me around for the rest of the night. &lt;i&gt;#FAIL&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK: &lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;D&lt;i&gt;o you think courtship is a lost art? Why or why not?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span id=&quot;summary7024250987429984528&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span id=&quot;summary7024250987429984528&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/4279061327914333442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/04/is-courtship-dead.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/4279061327914333442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/4279061327914333442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/04/is-courtship-dead.html' title='Is Courtship Dead?'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA2UkVMTVfCYNXZwC8RR0aqr5hmNz67Ia8xR0p_68JZWN69Vc3uONxE5E9BEP6NZmGvDbEKAoJeVGFpLmN-BpbA7msvFqZAXAmNN9DMKyP_Sh0HAsV0NJ2tVWyCMD6NAu_LWHh_kmqKQw/s72-c/flowers.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-6727749722977973184</id><published>2010-04-08T21:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T22:44:04.249-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guest blog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nina Lovehall"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="UPS Guy"/><title type='text'>A Man You Probably Haven&#39;t Considered: The UPS Guy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinzHTut2WOWcDMZPQlACjG5BhLITEmt0WMEqA4drDSQnbrZaT_NxgNrZgwEDRC1ZmacYbhbZSpJfX1oZR08T3LSLkUEv11XqHxfSGtzhs1UuUP4j5E_ugcdbHlOP7lP6QTcxEG0tYtKg4/s1600/ups.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinzHTut2WOWcDMZPQlACjG5BhLITEmt0WMEqA4drDSQnbrZaT_NxgNrZgwEDRC1ZmacYbhbZSpJfX1oZR08T3LSLkUEv11XqHxfSGtzhs1UuUP4j5E_ugcdbHlOP7lP6QTcxEG0tYtKg4/s400/ups.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;By: Guest Blogger &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/introducing-guest-blogger-nina-lovehall_5153.html&quot;&gt;NINA  LOVEHALL&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
If you are looking for a solid man--one with a stable job, who isn&#39;t lazy, who has a sense of time and duty, keeps himself nice and neat, and knows how to deal with people, I say look no further than your UPS guy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yup, I said it. And for you professional women who might feel like this brown collar man may not bring home enough bacon for you, a &lt;a href=&quot;http://finance.yahoo.com/career-work/article/109258/usps-thinks-out-of-the-box?mod=career-leadership&quot;&gt;recent article&lt;/a&gt; in the Wall Street Journal may make you think twice about shrugging him off when he compliments you while you sign for your package on that electronic clipboard thingy. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
WSJ reports that the average driver can pull in $74K a year, and with baby boomers retiring, the company is currently seeking new blood to the tune of 20,000 new drivers to fill those positions. And according to this article, with the intense training, these folks earn their living.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m not going to front. I&#39;ve seen some hot UPS guys in my day, and you can&#39;t get mad when you see one in the summer rocking those shorts with some strong calf muscles, jumping on and off that truck handling business.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
While no one wants to seriously leave matchmaking up to the HR department of UPS, you can certainly let them do the screening process for you. I&#39;m sure UPS does drug testing, and with it&#39;s grueling training sessions that include delivering packages under slippery conditions, and delivering five packages within a fake town in 19 minutes--it takes a person that has determination, who can think fast, and who won&#39;t get easily deterred from a goal, to even get the job. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Who doesn&#39;t want a man like that?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
TALK BACK:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i&gt;Have you or would you consider dating a UPS guy? &lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/6727749722977973184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/04/man-you-probably-havent-considered-ups.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/6727749722977973184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/6727749722977973184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/04/man-you-probably-havent-considered-ups.html' title='A Man You Probably Haven&#39;t Considered: The UPS Guy'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinzHTut2WOWcDMZPQlACjG5BhLITEmt0WMEqA4drDSQnbrZaT_NxgNrZgwEDRC1ZmacYbhbZSpJfX1oZR08T3LSLkUEv11XqHxfSGtzhs1UuUP4j5E_ugcdbHlOP7lP6QTcxEG0tYtKg4/s72-c/ups.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-6256523688498905104</id><published>2010-04-07T12:47:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-07T13:20:48.338-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="crazy dudes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pressurizer"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="red flags"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationships"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Samantha"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="warning signs"/><title type='text'>Three Red Flags You&#39;re Dating a Crazy, Deranged MoFo</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLb1iJZ4ydmEpxB5itXryOPfrDJ5EGBtSoWvCJYqaoM4Ulck42f1F_eI7doAanGK5Wkr1wbpsA39St0gTZjQ6Di2JJGfTb_M_ZKNJb6Q1a_tkvzDHMKdeA02xrBjvWf8ZjPgvLwuZ3Q8g/s1600/redflags.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;150&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLb1iJZ4ydmEpxB5itXryOPfrDJ5EGBtSoWvCJYqaoM4Ulck42f1F_eI7doAanGK5Wkr1wbpsA39St0gTZjQ6Di2JJGfTb_M_ZKNJb6Q1a_tkvzDHMKdeA02xrBjvWf8ZjPgvLwuZ3Q8g/s200/redflags.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Have you ever met a guy who was just a little &lt;i&gt;too into you &lt;/i&gt;just a little too fast?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Like you just met him but he&#39;s trying to move in with you already?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Or he snaps at you for not returning his calls within an hour or two, yet you just met him last week?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Or he tells you that he could see himself marrying you, yet you&#39;ve been dating just a few days?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Believe it or not, all of the above have happened to me or my friends. And all of these examples, in my eyes, are warning signs that the guy could be, as Martin said in &lt;i&gt;You So Crazy&lt;/i&gt;, a &quot;crazy, deranged motherf%&amp;amp;$er.&quot; &lt;i&gt;Run, girl, run!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Case in point: My good friend, we&#39;ll call her Samantha, called me yesterday to update me on a guy--we&#39;ll call him Pressurizer--who she met last week when we were out for after-work drinks. She&#39;d been talking to him on the phone daily for four days since they exchanged numbers. And on Day 4, he hit her with this over the phone: &lt;i&gt;&quot;So, where is this going? Are you even interested in me?&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Samantha, a bit taken aback, asked Pressurizer to elaborate, thinking he couldn&#39;t possibly be pressing her with such questions not even a week after they first met. They&#39;d talked frequently and had a date planned for this weekend, so why is he trippin? Pressurizer told her he really likes her and he laid his expectations on the line. It came down to this: It&#39;s fine if they don&#39;t see each other face to face every day for now, but if they get into a relationship, he told her, he&#39;d require they see each other daily.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, let me remind you: This conversation took place &lt;i&gt;*four days*&lt;/i&gt; after Samantha and Pressurizer met. Not four months. Not four years. And he&#39;s already having a fit about not seeing her daily--to the tune of a two-hour conversation to discuss his &quot;concerns&quot;? Where they do that at?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Samantha is now thinking she will probably cancel her weekend date with Pressurizer because he put so much pressure on her so quick. I can&#39;t say I blame her. In hindsight, Samantha says, the fact that he called her for the first time at 9:30 a.m. on a Saturday morning the day after they met probably was the first warning sign he was a little too eager. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Guys, take note: Genuine interest is good. Scary/stalkerish/overeager tendencies are bad. Very bad. Here are three red flags we women generally take note of:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. &lt;b&gt;Possessiveness.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/b&gt;I once had a guy I&#39;d just met--who had gone out of town for the weekend-- tell me that if he were in town, I wouldn&#39;t be spending time with my friends because all of my time would be spent with him. Mind you, I&#39;d known him for about one week. I cut him off immediately. While some women may find possessiveness flattering, many women find it to be scary and a warning sign to run far, far away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. &lt;b&gt;Unrealistic expectations. &lt;/b&gt;No, it is not realistic for you to expect a woman you&#39;ve just met to clear her schedule every day all day for you. And it&#39;s not realistic to expect to talk to her five to ten times a day. She had a life before she met you, and yes, she&#39;s happy to include you in it, but slow your roll, dude.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
3. &lt;b&gt;Short temper. &lt;/b&gt;Sure, we&#39;ve all had a &#39;waiting by the phone&#39; moment, hoping that that special someone would call soon. But copping an attitude with your love interest about not calling you back soon enough is a surefire way to push the person away if you just met. Big no-no.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK: &lt;/b&gt;There are many red flags that signal danger in the dating world. What do you look out for? What warning signs signal to you that a guy might be crazy or deranged? &lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/6256523688498905104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/04/three-red-flag-indicators-of-crazy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/6256523688498905104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/6256523688498905104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/04/three-red-flag-indicators-of-crazy.html' title='Three Red Flags You&#39;re Dating a Crazy, Deranged MoFo'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLb1iJZ4ydmEpxB5itXryOPfrDJ5EGBtSoWvCJYqaoM4Ulck42f1F_eI7doAanGK5Wkr1wbpsA39St0gTZjQ6Di2JJGfTb_M_ZKNJb6Q1a_tkvzDHMKdeA02xrBjvWf8ZjPgvLwuZ3Q8g/s72-c/redflags.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-1046019281486999943</id><published>2010-03-11T20:34:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T22:04:35.014-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="firing hair stylist"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hair"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hair salon"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Hair Stylist"/><title type='text'>Coming to Terms With Firing My Hair Stylist</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzG_OV5vzEnNIHAYztEkyCkCb9HwhBfSLqzECXVGWWB4KKYYE861w62z4Q8SZ0_vjH2eFlgCfgMed7HkCdua0kkpuPhZq4TwDF-L-KVo8dw5qjHXGVud6FKCNeub_ZkZj7bmFHIffkuEo/s1600-h/hair.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzG_OV5vzEnNIHAYztEkyCkCb9HwhBfSLqzECXVGWWB4KKYYE861w62z4Q8SZ0_vjH2eFlgCfgMed7HkCdua0kkpuPhZq4TwDF-L-KVo8dw5qjHXGVud6FKCNeub_ZkZj7bmFHIffkuEo/s320/hair.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It looked good, swung right, and made me smile just by glancing at it. I was ecstatic.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;*pause*&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That&#39;s right. I&#39;d found a hair stylist who could do my hair just right. After tons of research online, I settled on a style called tree braids. I&#39;d never known anyone who wore them but I thought they were cute, and always one to set my own trend, I went for it. A few hours more research later, I found a salon near my home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At that salon was a hair stylist who did the damn thing when it came to my hair. So much so that I referred countless people to that salon for the same style. It&#39;s safe to say that I&#39;m far from the only person I know wearing tree braids any more since I started rocking them last summer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Problem was, the hair stylist I loved worked for a backwards-@ssed salon owner. Want to make an appointment? Don&#39;t count on it being easy. The process went a little something like this: A week prior to the appointment I wanted to schedule, I&#39;d call the salon owner--who required that all appointments go through him, via his cellphone. He might answer, he might not. If you left a message, he might call you back&lt;strike&gt; or you might have to harass him to get a return call&lt;/strike&gt;. He also requested that you call &lt;i&gt;him &lt;/i&gt;back the day before the appointment to confirm. Then, when you make that day-before call to confirm, he informs you that he then has to call the hair stylist to see if she can make it. &lt;i&gt;[Why the h#ll didn&#39;t you do that before, fool?]&lt;/i&gt; Then, a few hours later, he eventually calls back to confirm the appointment.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sound painful? It was. And I did this every 6-8 weeks from August 2009 through January 2010. Then I got fed up. One day this month, when I called the salon owner to confirm my appointment--and he told me he&#39;d have to call me back after talking with the hair stylist--I decided to get back on my research grind to find another hair salon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Didn&#39;t take long. I&#39;d done some preliminary research already and knew who else did tree braids in my area. There&#39;s a particular way I like them done that is different from the way most places do them, so after confirming the new salon could hook me up, I made an appointment there. It was that easy. One phone call, appointment confirmed. &lt;i&gt;WHALA!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So when the owner of the first salon&lt;i&gt; finally&lt;/i&gt; called me back (over two hours later) to confirm my appointment, I told him I was canceling. And I told him why. In a nice way (I swear I was polite and cordial), I told him that his scheduling process is jacked up and (because of that and his tendency to be rude to customers when they call) had driven me and all of my referrals away from patronizing his business. He seemed to take it well... at first.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But apparently he had second thoughts. And that got me to thinking, maybe I should&#39;ve read &lt;a href=&quot;http://womenshair.about.com/od/hairfaq/a/firehairsytlist.htm&quot;&gt;this advice&lt;/a&gt; or &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.hairboutique.com/tips/tip3901.htm&quot;&gt;this advice&lt;/a&gt; about breaking up with your hair stylist before I spoke with him. Ah, hindsight.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Witness the voicemail he left me about a half hour after our phone conversation. [&lt;i&gt;Full background:&lt;/i&gt; In addition to patronizing his business and referring my sister and friends, I also started a Facebook fan page for the salon at his request. But when I asked him to answer questions via e-mail from people who asked about pricing of various styles on the fan page, he couldn&#39;t be bothered.]&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Play this in your head in the most smart-@ssed, irritated voice you can muster:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;This is Salon Owner. I wanted to call you back and let you know I fully understand your position. This is my business model. And I work and the braiders do have to go through me because I still have to run this business and they don&#39;t go there and sit. I made it convenient for them as well so they don&#39;t just go there and sit. And I know I&#39;m losing my customers to the braiders. There are not too many braiders who do tree braids. I know that I lose some of my customers to the braiders. There are not too many people in this area that do tree braids very well. When I&#39;m not there I notice that I lose customers to some of the braiders. And it&#39;s highly possible that I&#39;ve lost you and your sister to Hair Stylist and I wouldn&#39;t tell her that either. But I have nowhere else to go, nothing else to do. This is the way I run this business model. I&#39;m also very disappointed in those who would come to the shop and then move themselves into working with my braiders, and that is very disappointing as well because I work very hard to try to get customers in there. I had to go out and get a job and that&#39;s one of the reasons I haven&#39;t been responsive to facebook. I can&#39;t be responding to everything on facebook. I&#39;m disappointed and I know that you&#39;re going to Hair Stylist, and Hair Stylist has to deal with that. So that&#39;s my message to you. If you care to call back, fine.&quot;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;[*Names have been changed because I decided not to put Salon Owner on full blast, even though he &lt;strike&gt;is an @sshole&lt;/strike&gt; deserves it.]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;So in other words, dude is accusing me of stealing his stylist? The thing is, I did NOT do that, but Lawd knows I would if I could. But sadly, I don&#39;t have Hair Stylist&#39;s number. Later that evening, I got a long, rambling, unprofessional e-mail from the salon owner basically making the same points. #FAIL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;Anyhow, the new salon I went to is great. Takes a bit longer to do tree braids because they&#39;re smaller, but I&#39;ve been told they look better. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;They have lots of braiders available for walk-ins at all times, and that = Lots of business. They stay busy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;And it&#39;s much easier to make an appointment.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;text_exposed_show&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK: &lt;/b&gt;Have you ever had to fire your hair stylist? How did it go? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/1046019281486999943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/03/coming-to-terms-with-firing-my-hair.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/1046019281486999943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/1046019281486999943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/03/coming-to-terms-with-firing-my-hair.html' title='Coming to Terms With Firing My Hair Stylist'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzG_OV5vzEnNIHAYztEkyCkCb9HwhBfSLqzECXVGWWB4KKYYE861w62z4Q8SZ0_vjH2eFlgCfgMed7HkCdua0kkpuPhZq4TwDF-L-KVo8dw5qjHXGVud6FKCNeub_ZkZj7bmFHIffkuEo/s72-c/hair.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-8873302892774854070</id><published>2010-03-10T12:39:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T12:47:49.733-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="bad boys"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guest blog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nina Lovehall"/><title type='text'>You, Girl, Are the Cure for Trifling</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_EXZn6k37KyX_pgqe4ErPpu2igloEgTlSE44yjusJRMLBjyD6L3AQ8HcvfkSpPS-hRX5Nl3-cmfKQhB4_m9FVwMnoE-7RzJr-BTSZAMD176N6NzC6qG1GkoSR_2VkRa8948Ud0dYySI/s1600-h/thug.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_EXZn6k37KyX_pgqe4ErPpu2igloEgTlSE44yjusJRMLBjyD6L3AQ8HcvfkSpPS-hRX5Nl3-cmfKQhB4_m9FVwMnoE-7RzJr-BTSZAMD176N6NzC6qG1GkoSR_2VkRa8948Ud0dYySI/s400/thug.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;By: Guest Blogger &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/introducing-guest-blogger-nina-lovehall_5153.html&quot;&gt;NINA LOVEHALL&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Have the one or two weed heads, thugs (real or imagined), or aspiring music artists or producers--who managed to slip through the cracks during a bad breakup--told you, &lt;i&gt;&quot;If I had a woman like you, I&#39;d stay focused&quot;&lt;/i&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;
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Or:&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;&quot;I&#39;d get a job and keep one.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;I&#39;d stop selling and/or smoking weed.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;I&#39;d stop running these streets.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;I&#39;d move out my mama&#39;s house...and stay with you.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;I&#39;d go to/finish school.&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Admit it. You&#39;ve heard this or some variation. Don&#39;t fake. Take a minute, go back, way back, and you know there is one of these guys in your past. It may have been the guy with the killer smile who &quot;sells real estate&quot; but can&#39;t seem to explain to you what an ARM is.&lt;br /&gt;
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Tell the truth, the aspiring rapper who sold you your furniture had a great body, and since he broke you off with the discount (see FabFem &#39;s blog post about &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/03/is-free-stuff-part-of-being-woman.html&quot;&gt;perks for pretty girls&lt;/a&gt;) for that gorgeous mahogany chaise, you listened to the mix tape he also threw in for free (street value $5) and got drinks when he got off. Hell, you may have even kicked him out of your house around 3 a.m. this morning, so you could get some rest before you went to work this morning.&lt;br /&gt;
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Go ahead and laugh, because you have either slept with or endured at least a movie or an IHOP breakfast sampler with this man.&lt;br /&gt;
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We don&#39;t judge you.&lt;br /&gt;
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But I can bet that every one of these guys will tell you, &lt;i&gt;&quot;I&#39;m not perfect, but girl, If I had a woman like you, I&#39;d straighten up.&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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So there it is, even after being raised by somebody, somewhere and walking this earth as a grown man making his own bad decisions, somehow YOU will be the catalyst that&#39;s going to get him on the straight and narrow.&lt;br /&gt;
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Allow me to share with you one of the highest compliments I once received from this type of man: &lt;i&gt;&quot;Girl, you&#39;d make a good stepmom to my kids.&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Fanfrigginstastic.&lt;br /&gt;
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After hearing that, I had to start making some promises of my own, like, never to drink again, never to give out my number at gas stations or Chinese buffets, or fast food restaurants, no matter how bad the breakup or how low my self esteem at the time.&lt;br /&gt;
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Believe it or not, young men aren&#39;t even the biggest offenders. Some of these men may be well into their 30s, still talking such foolishness. Some may even be fathers themselves and are STILL talking this foolishness. &lt;br /&gt;
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Case in point: &lt;br /&gt;
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A young man I met a long time ago told me that given the opportunity, he could see himself putting an end to his thuggish ways (which included still having one foot in the drug-selling community). He&#39;d leave the game and live a good, clean life with me by his side.&lt;br /&gt;
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I had to laugh and shake my head because this guy had a small child. Wise beyond my years, I gave a response that I&#39;m proud of to this day: &lt;i&gt;&quot;If you have a child, and you love this child, it shouldn &#39;t take me, someone you barely know, to motivate you to do better. Your child--that came from you--should be motivation enough.&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Apparently he liked it, too, because after thanking me for keeping it real, he declared my brutal honesty was further proof that I was the kind of woman he needed after all.&lt;br /&gt;
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At that moment, I grabbed my purse, and I told him I wished him luck on his road to redemption, but that I couldn&#39;t join him. I gathered my safety buddy/wingwoman (who was entertaining his friend) and we left.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK: &lt;/b&gt;Has a bad boy ever said that you are what he needs to change his ways? Did you try?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Arial;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/8873302892774854070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/03/you-girl-are-cure-for-trifling.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/8873302892774854070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/8873302892774854070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/03/you-girl-are-cure-for-trifling.html' title='You, Girl, Are the Cure for Trifling'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8_EXZn6k37KyX_pgqe4ErPpu2igloEgTlSE44yjusJRMLBjyD6L3AQ8HcvfkSpPS-hRX5Nl3-cmfKQhB4_m9FVwMnoE-7RzJr-BTSZAMD176N6NzC6qG1GkoSR_2VkRa8948Ud0dYySI/s72-c/thug.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-973806013296352522</id><published>2010-03-08T13:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T13:43:31.038-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guest blog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nina Lovehall"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="period"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sex"/><title type='text'>Sex On Your Period: Yay or Nay?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoT-tWN-NAZKfc-MciOQOklxwyE3ME5Bh0av7Bvo3A4xi0AhOuA-0SqFgqdLvINT6qJovPMExKwT9D0HhVqIH85F0j-26-wO_3X_CEyUrRBWmK7B1BsT_bhVNQh929UCaED278gcuIMk/s1600-h/period.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoT-tWN-NAZKfc-MciOQOklxwyE3ME5Bh0av7Bvo3A4xi0AhOuA-0SqFgqdLvINT6qJovPMExKwT9D0HhVqIH85F0j-26-wO_3X_CEyUrRBWmK7B1BsT_bhVNQh929UCaED278gcuIMk/s200/period.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;By: Guest Blogger &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/introducing-guest-blogger-nina-lovehall_5153.html&quot;&gt;NINA LOVEHALL&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Rumor has it that neosoul crooner/sex symbol Maxwell sent female concertgoers into a frenzy last year when he declared during his sensual set, &lt;i&gt;&quot;I don&#39;t care if it&#39;s that time of the month. We can put towels down.&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Pick your collective jaws up off the ground. Even if you are against it, there was a time you probably considered it, just once: &lt;i&gt;&quot;I mean, I&#39;m real light right now anyway...&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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If I&#39;ve pulled your card, simmer down, we&#39;re all grown. You aren&#39;t a dirty freak if you do it, want to do it or considered it that one time when you were real &quot;light.&quot; As I get older, I&#39;m noticing more men and women aren&#39;t as vehemently against the idea as when we were younger. I&#39;ve been in a couple of conversations-- sober and not-- where both sexes have taken Maxwell&#39;s stance and even suggested putting down dark-colored sheets in addition to the towel to cut down on potential embarrassment.&lt;br /&gt;
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But there is still a strong contingent who say the love tunnel is temporarily shut down to all traffic during that time of the month.&lt;br /&gt;
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It&#39;s no secret that women tend to get real randy in the days before, during and after their cycle, and biology backs that up. &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.drhilda.com/&quot;&gt;Dr. Hilda Hutcherson&lt;/a&gt;, author of the book, &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.amazon.com/What-Your-Mother-Never-About/dp/0399528539&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;What Your Mother Never Told You About Sex&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, tells readers that if they feel comfortable with it, by all means let Aunt Flo join in on the fun. If you aren&#39;t completely convinced, Dr. Hutcherson explains the benefits of freakin&#39; while you&#39;re leakin&#39;, which may include easing of cramps and migraines. In addition to breaking out the towel underneath your bum, she also suggests using a diaphragm or cervical cap to &quot;decrease the amount of blood that escapes during sex.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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Hutcherson says that some positions may be uncomfortable during that time of the month, and even oral sex is fair game. And, she says, some men actually like the taste of iron in the blood. (I&#39;ve never heard this one. In fact, I&#39;ve been told that men prefer that you give them a warning and give them the option of not heading down there.) Hutcherson warns that if your man takes the dive, he should not blow air into your vagina, because that air can actually travel through your lungs and affect your heart, causing an air embolism.&lt;br /&gt;
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Never fear to my ladies who&#39;d rather sit this one out until Flo has left the building. I&#39;m not mad at you. Dr. Hutcherson says that even if you don&#39;t want to go all the way, getting close and cuddling during that time can release some healthy endorphins that will relieve pain. Everybody wins.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK: &lt;/b&gt;Do you think that having sex while on your period is nasty?&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/973806013296352522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/03/sex-on-your-period-yay-or-nay.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/973806013296352522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/973806013296352522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/03/sex-on-your-period-yay-or-nay.html' title='Sex On Your Period: Yay or Nay?'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoT-tWN-NAZKfc-MciOQOklxwyE3ME5Bh0av7Bvo3A4xi0AhOuA-0SqFgqdLvINT6qJovPMExKwT9D0HhVqIH85F0j-26-wO_3X_CEyUrRBWmK7B1BsT_bhVNQh929UCaED278gcuIMk/s72-c/period.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-461323455714475544</id><published>2010-03-02T13:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T13:39:13.218-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="free stuff"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="men"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="women"/><title type='text'>Is Free Stuff Part of Being a Woman?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeDrjjfOR5V5O0mgzpW5-MPpsf20acwHXy4MKUFPeblYwbJyItc1xNA2opCLQfCswJo8kx_jLqNHEptqgaIUQK7if4NT78UN69Pe0F-xdku6Z2c0G4KLGGuTcI096Kg9Lsql6lzKVje_4/s1600-h/free-stuff.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;178&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeDrjjfOR5V5O0mgzpW5-MPpsf20acwHXy4MKUFPeblYwbJyItc1xNA2opCLQfCswJo8kx_jLqNHEptqgaIUQK7if4NT78UN69Pe0F-xdku6Z2c0G4KLGGuTcI096Kg9Lsql6lzKVje_4/s200/free-stuff.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Call it the gift and the curse of being a woman. You smile, look pretty, and men give you free stuff. The downside: They flirt--and may even ask for a date.&lt;br /&gt;
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Case in point: I go to two restaurants where I rarely pay for my food. In both cases, men who work there give me my food for free. In one case, the manager has been comping my food for about eight years. In the other case, a bartender has been giving me free stuff for roughly a year or two.&lt;br /&gt;
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I didn&#39;t ask either of these men to do this. In fact, both have rebuffed me when I pull out cash to pay. &quot;Your money is no good here,&quot; they say, or, &quot;Don&#39;t worry. I got you.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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Whatever, I say to myself, no need to fight them to pay money I don&#39;t have to.&lt;br /&gt;
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But that doesn&#39;t mean there isn&#39;t a price. In one case, the manager who comps my food is way older--I&#39;d guess in his 60s--and he blatantly flirts with me. I am pretty certain he knows I&#39;m not interested because it never goes further than his saying slick stuff to me when I&#39;m in the restaurant. Last weekend, he told me he was glad I came to the restaurant alone and not with a date--because he doesn&#39;t like to see me with dates. &quot;I don&#39;t like those guys,&quot; he told me. &lt;i&gt;[Note to self: I knew one day I&#39;d be glad&amp;nbsp; I took my exes who were 6&#39;10 and 6&#39;4, respectively, into said restaurant to pick up food. Obviously, they left an impression. :-)]&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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WTF. Speechless, I just took my free food and rolled out.&lt;br /&gt;
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But this man also bought me a dozen pink roses when I graduated from college several years ago. He said they were from the restaurant staff. My daddy--probably just a few years older than him--was none too happy. &lt;br /&gt;
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Besides free food, off the top of my head, I&#39;ve gotten free car maintenance, cable service, home repair, and party admission from guys I barely know (or don&#39;t know at all), just by showing up and smiling sweetly. The common thread? I never ask for free stuff. Guys just offer. The whole damsel in distress idea, maybe?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;: Have you ever gotten free stuff just because you&#39;re a woman? Tell us about it.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/461323455714475544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/03/is-free-stuff-part-of-being-woman.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/461323455714475544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/461323455714475544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/03/is-free-stuff-part-of-being-woman.html' title='Is Free Stuff Part of Being a Woman?'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeDrjjfOR5V5O0mgzpW5-MPpsf20acwHXy4MKUFPeblYwbJyItc1xNA2opCLQfCswJo8kx_jLqNHEptqgaIUQK7if4NT78UN69Pe0F-xdku6Z2c0G4KLGGuTcI096Kg9Lsql6lzKVje_4/s72-c/free-stuff.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-2898668552628072179</id><published>2010-02-24T13:55:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T16:32:31.575-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guest blog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nina Lovehall"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="relationships"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sexual history"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sexual partners"/><title type='text'>Number of Sexual Partners: Do Tell or TMI?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHR7oSv4J6gZwU247zD9VQ1u06V_Lz9oiQeAsQYmkh58HCS3yFrDZqu-kEtuT3Qyfno3i9zLzqx_SWDGR54A785yXfzL89C3C4lzvhGAZcG-fSkPOpHeO52HPP1aOX9anqj9g8u9-jV_c/s1600-h/partners.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHR7oSv4J6gZwU247zD9VQ1u06V_Lz9oiQeAsQYmkh58HCS3yFrDZqu-kEtuT3Qyfno3i9zLzqx_SWDGR54A785yXfzL89C3C4lzvhGAZcG-fSkPOpHeO52HPP1aOX9anqj9g8u9-jV_c/s320/partners.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;By: Guest Blogger &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/introducing-guest-blogger-nina-lovehall_5153.html&quot;&gt;NINA LOVEHALL&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Is sharing your sexual &quot;number&quot;--how many partners you&#39;ve truly been with, no fudging or lapses in memory--simply TMI? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some people believe you should tell the real number and get it out there and be honest with every person you encounter intimately.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Other folks feel like it&#39;s worth telling only those you are serious with.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then others, like me, generally believe it&#39;s just a bad idea, and no matter your number, you are going to still look less than pure-- especially to the man of your dreams if you&#39;ve manged to find him. If the number is higher than zero, I think sometimes for a lot of men (the ones who are interested in something real), it&#39;s just too hard a pill to swallow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Let&#39;s face it. I&#39;ve had male friends admit that, especially for women they think highly of or want to be &quot;the one,&quot; although deep down they know someone has probably put down footprints on her path... they really don&#39;t want to know if there was an eight-lane highway built there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What I do believe can and should be discussed with any potential partner is sexual health history...recent tests taken, status, etc. Vox Magazine &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.voxmagazine.com/stories/2007/04/26/how-talk-about-your-sexual-past&quot;&gt;offers good advice&lt;/a&gt; on how to broach the topic. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But actual number of partners? Ehhhh.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Nope.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yeah, yeah, I&#39;m all about women&#39;s liberation. We make more money, we&#39;re more independent and educated and we have the right to sleep with however many people we want as long as we are responsible and no one should trip, right? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wrong.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All things being equal, sure that makes sense. But in the real world, if you&#39;re a woman and have bedded &quot;too many&quot; men, both women and men will agree that you, my dear, are still considered a hoe.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So how many is too many? Well that&#39;s for each individual person to decide. But I did get put on to an interesting theory about &quot;the number&quot; from a man.&lt;br /&gt;
I like to call it the &quot;casual encounters to relationship to age of sexual debut ratio&quot; (patent pending on the name). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Based on some scenarios my male friend offered up, I&#39;ve created a game for y&#39;all. It&#39;s called: &quot;WHO&#39;S THE HOE HERE?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A 26-year-old who started having sex at 18, has had three long-term relationships lasting an average of two years each has a total number of five sexual partners.&lt;br /&gt;
If she was faithful during the relationships, the 2 partners who weren&#39;t considered boyfriends probably punched her freedom card in those periods between committed relationships, or she may have gotten one casual in before her first relationship.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Of the eight total years of her getting her swerve on, six of those years were in a faithful situation.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SURVEY SAYS: NOT A HOE.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was told in that scenario, that number was not bad at all and that most men could probably take that on the chin and move on happily with that woman.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But, I was also told, if you are 18, started having sex at 18 and you have 5 partners before your 19th birthday.... yes, at this rate you are on par to have Tiger-like numbers by the time you hit 26. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SURVEY SAYS: &quot;HEY DIRTY, BABY I GOT YOUR MONEY.&quot; YOU ARE A HOE.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, things happen. And I was told there may be an asterisk by your number in certain situations depending on your faithfulness, too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My male friend put this doosey on me. I needed a calculator with sine and cosine functions to figure this one out... so help me out.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Say you are 24, you started doing the freaky deek at 18, and you&#39;ve been in a relationship for five years with one person and you&#39;ve managed to have *8 partners.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh boy. According to the math, you either: A. picked up your numbers early on in that one year you were single before that relationship; B. went buck wild post-relationship; or C. you were doing dirt during that relationship. SURVEY SAYS: ???????? If you answered B, I&#39;m willing to give you some leniency. But if your answers are A. and C, &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nPfmcGP1kLs&quot;&gt;click here&lt;/a&gt; to reclaim your prize.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
DISCLAIMER: &lt;i&gt;IF YOU&#39;VE FALLEN INTO ANY OF THESE SITUATIONS WHERE THE SURVEY SAID THOSE ACTIONS WERE HOE-WORTHY, FABULOUSFEMININITY.BLOGSPOT.COM IS NOT JUDGING YOU.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK: &lt;/b&gt;Do you share the number of sexual partners you&#39;ve previously had with a new partner--and do you want him to tell you his &quot;number&quot;?&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/2898668552628072179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/02/number-of-sexual-partners-do-tell-or.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/2898668552628072179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/2898668552628072179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/02/number-of-sexual-partners-do-tell-or.html' title='Number of Sexual Partners: Do Tell or TMI?'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHR7oSv4J6gZwU247zD9VQ1u06V_Lz9oiQeAsQYmkh58HCS3yFrDZqu-kEtuT3Qyfno3i9zLzqx_SWDGR54A785yXfzL89C3C4lzvhGAZcG-fSkPOpHeO52HPP1aOX9anqj9g8u9-jV_c/s72-c/partners.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-2816055800777093781</id><published>2010-02-22T15:20:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T20:14:34.243-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cougars"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dating"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Young Buck"/><title type='text'>Am I Entering Cougar Territory?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhET-LdY7WfIuTa_oiOzxrHkWotULrjR94VkkHhjrgFWBHWp7Y3RZ1jzw2B1fYBISIngChP31BBa0PTiQ4XyCEghgY31gIpNAb2Wv6PNYTRNGegmnEtXE4ZghqqzI1fLyf33fS0R_gsBIw/s1600-h/cougar.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhET-LdY7WfIuTa_oiOzxrHkWotULrjR94VkkHhjrgFWBHWp7Y3RZ1jzw2B1fYBISIngChP31BBa0PTiQ4XyCEghgY31gIpNAb2Wv6PNYTRNGegmnEtXE4ZghqqzI1fLyf33fS0R_gsBIw/s200/cougar.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
I think I&#39;m too young to be &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=cougar&quot;&gt;a cougar&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m 29 years old, approaching my 30th birthday in about seven months. I usually date older guys, up to 10 years older than me, but typically in their early-mid 30s. So I was a little taken aback this weekend when I met a guy--who we&#39;ll call Young Buck (YB for short)--who looked like he was about the right age... until he hit me with this: He&#39;s 23 (!). &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Insert look of &lt;i&gt;*shock*&lt;/i&gt; here. I couldn&#39;t even hide it. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He obviously sensed my surprise at how young he was. He asked if his age was a problem.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, I told him. He asked why.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, besides the fact that I&#39;m not a cougar, I told him that I&#39;m at the point in my life where I am looking to get married and have kids in the next several years, and I&#39;m not convinced that a 23 year old would be ready for all of that before, say, age 30 or so. At least I know I wasn&#39;t ready at age 25ish for all that. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He said he is ready for all of that when he meets the right person.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was skeptical, to say the least. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
One friend pointed out that it should be OK for me to date a guy who is six years younger than me if it&#39;s acceptable for me to date men the same number of years older than me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My friend has a point. And besides, what do I have to lose? &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Still, the honest truth is that I&#39;ve met very few men in their early 20s who are mature enough to handle dating a grown woman who is over the petty BS of the early 20s. Like, over it, finito, finished, in a don&#39;t-go-there-with-me kinda way. It really is a maturity issue.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyhow, after YB told me his age, I gradually distanced myself from him at the lounge we were at. That is, until he followed me to the bathroom to give me his business card. He asked me to please give him a chance to show he&#39;s mature enough to handle dating me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hmmmm. He gets points for persistence, I guess. And he has a great job as a network administrator for a large company, so I guess that shows he&#39;s serious about life. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But...one big caveat: I Googled him, and someone with his real name--and it&#39;s a pretty unique name--has a Twitter account on which this person calls himself the king of jumpoffs. WTF?!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, you know FabFem will be asking him about that. (Remember the last guy &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/google-yourself.html&quot;&gt;Google helped me weed out&lt;/a&gt;?)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I took my friend&#39;s advice and e-mailed YB a few minutes ago. He just replied. We&#39;ll see if he&#39;s as mature as he claims to be, and if that Twitter page belongs to him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Does it help that his 24th birthday is just one month away? :-)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK:&lt;/b&gt; Do you date younger men? Why or why not?&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/2816055800777093781/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/02/am-i-entering-cougar-territory.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/2816055800777093781'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/2816055800777093781'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/02/am-i-entering-cougar-territory.html' title='Am I Entering Cougar Territory?'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhET-LdY7WfIuTa_oiOzxrHkWotULrjR94VkkHhjrgFWBHWp7Y3RZ1jzw2B1fYBISIngChP31BBa0PTiQ4XyCEghgY31gIpNAb2Wv6PNYTRNGegmnEtXE4ZghqqzI1fLyf33fS0R_gsBIw/s72-c/cougar.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-2387206618974630885</id><published>2010-02-22T14:13:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-22T14:24:44.706-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="doctor"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guest blog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gynecologist"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nina Lovehall"/><title type='text'>The End of a Very Intimate Relationship</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: left;&quot;&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ57xpEpZrVGoQhfYftIaoHaOZHXl8-Jx3xYLLe2gLt7RSfcgNimuXLwq_mUo3o46RiPOjCjQz6jXrOQUS__oamAcUk0bJsviz5eIm93_lyxns0LHKNLG8j0v2nsq32qdaqLmMattM6Co/s1600-h/blackfemaledoc.png&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ57xpEpZrVGoQhfYftIaoHaOZHXl8-Jx3xYLLe2gLt7RSfcgNimuXLwq_mUo3o46RiPOjCjQz6jXrOQUS__oamAcUk0bJsviz5eIm93_lyxns0LHKNLG8j0v2nsq32qdaqLmMattM6Co/s200/blackfemaledoc.png&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;By: Guest Blogger &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/10/introducing-guest-blogger-nina-lovehall_5153.html&quot;&gt;NINA LOVEHALL&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The worst breakups are the ones you don&#39;t see coming.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You thought you found the right one. And after a long, hard search, it was like a dream when you finally found her. She was good looking, charming, funny. And she made you feel oh so comfortable, especially when you felt self conscious and exposed. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She knew you intimately. No question was a stupid question. No topic out of bounds.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You actually told her how many sexual partners you&#39;ve had in your lifetime...the real number. She offered good advice and couldn&#39;t wait to share the moment when you finally had your first child.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That&#39;s right.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m pissed and hurt right now. &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My gynecologist up and left the practice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She didn&#39;t say a word. Didn&#39;t leave a note or a text...She didn&#39;t even have an office minion email me the devastating news. She&#39;s just gone.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I would have never known, save for a call I made to refill my prescription because my drug insurance company all but put a gun to my head to participate in their drugs by mail program.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Receptionist: &lt;i&gt;&quot;Dr. Wonderful -- Oh I&#39;m sorry, she&#39;s not with us anymore. She left in November. Ohhhh, I guess she didn&#39;t tell all of her patients. But we have nine other doctors in the practice and we&#39;d love to continue to have you as a patient.&quot;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So now, dejected, I guess I&#39;m back to square one. It really is a lovely practice, but the others... they just aren&#39;t like her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She was like if Claire Huxtable was a gynecologist. It seemed like she had it all (including the super handsome husband and brace-faced, yet still gorgeous daughter prominently displayed in herfung-sui styled office). It&#39;s almost embarrassing to say, but I felt like a high school girl who wanted her to be my mentor. She just seemed really fierce. Shewasn&#39;t condescending. She didn&#39;t make assumptions.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
She also understood the value of the good, healthy choices I&#39;ve made in my life and being another woman of color, she celebrated the fact that I had it together and genuinely wanted me to continue to keep it that way. She made what is usually those 10 uncomfortable minutes bemoaned by all women bearable, just chatting away as if we were girlfriends. It just won&#39;t be the same. So back into the wilderness to find the right person to, well, probe my wilderness.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wish me luck. I&#39;ve decided to wear black panties for a week in mourning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK:&lt;/b&gt; Have you ever had to say goodbye to a great gynecologist? Did you ever find one you liked just as much? Or did you have to settle?&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/2387206618974630885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/02/end-of-very-intimate-relationship.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/2387206618974630885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/2387206618974630885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/02/end-of-very-intimate-relationship.html' title='The End of a Very Intimate Relationship'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ57xpEpZrVGoQhfYftIaoHaOZHXl8-Jx3xYLLe2gLt7RSfcgNimuXLwq_mUo3o46RiPOjCjQz6jXrOQUS__oamAcUk0bJsviz5eIm93_lyxns0LHKNLG8j0v2nsq32qdaqLmMattM6Co/s72-c/blackfemaledoc.png" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8671904682260320456.post-7893191982246702062</id><published>2010-02-17T11:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-17T15:35:42.812-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blizzard"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="neighbors"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="snow"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Snow Angel"/><title type='text'>When Neighbors Try to Holla</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxr3hZX4uQKYmU2WZ7YnCsDSPfsgeNeiBMsodmHbKX119yiFbEQrb5oIKwEzeQuMCn5ZQuvfus5ORjRFGjS8dmMTORecObmIyjM2KYt4_sbSYeYMDdFEum86iFc9dW2JeGsUXesPDR030/s1600-h/neighbor.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;141&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxr3hZX4uQKYmU2WZ7YnCsDSPfsgeNeiBMsodmHbKX119yiFbEQrb5oIKwEzeQuMCn5ZQuvfus5ORjRFGjS8dmMTORecObmIyjM2KYt4_sbSYeYMDdFEum86iFc9dW2JeGsUXesPDR030/s200/neighbor.jpg&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Dating a neighbor can be convenient or disastrous, depending on how you look at it. I know people for whom it&#39;s worked out just fine. But after one bad experience dating a past neighbor who&#39;d miraculously appear outside when I&#39;d go to my car and would leave me messages saying he knew I was home because my bedroom or bathroom lights were on&lt;strike&gt; and he was a stalker&lt;/strike&gt; (#FAIL), I&#39;m not eager to try it again. Still, that doesn&#39;t keep the fellas from trying.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Enter the two back-to-back blizzards the DC area had in one week this month, which meant lots of time digging out outside--and seeing neighbors I&#39;ve never seen before.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
First up was Snow Angel, the guy who &lt;a href=&quot;http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-dc-snowpocolyse-survival-story.html&quot;&gt;always cleans off my car &lt;/a&gt;when it snows. He asked me out to dinner last week. I declined. He&#39;s cool and nice but I&#39;m not really attracted to him, plus he lives too damn close for comfort. The second guy who tried to talk to me last week lives nearby but not in my building, but I wasn&#39;t interested in him, either. He was a little creepy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And the third guy--well, he just really, really, really seemed to like &lt;i&gt;himself&lt;/i&gt;, and that was a turnoff. He started the conversation by telling me all about his job (I didn&#39;t ask about it, he just told me and didn&#39;t ask me about my own career). He has a high-profile government job, according to him, in addition to his night gig throwing parties with friends. He travels all over the world, he said. He made it seem as though he has it all together. But soon I realized that, at thirtysomething, he lives in a small two-bedroom condo with his mom and brother, which made me wonder if he&#39;s just frontin&#39;. I&#39;m always suspicious of people who brag anyway -- They&#39;re usually hiding something.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The final nail in this guy&#39;s coffin was when I asked him to walk me down the street to my car (where I&#39;d moved it while our parking lot was plowed) because it was getting dark and I didn&#39;t want to walk alone. His response? &quot;No, I&#39;m not walking down there.&quot; Needless to say, that was the end of our conversation. Snow Angel ended up walking me to my car instead, which was the gentlemanly thing to do, after all.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, I had to laugh at how forward my neighbors got with all of the snow on the ground. All three admitted they&#39;ve seen me coming and going before, but none ever approached me in the past--and I don&#39;t recall seeing or meeting any of them before this winter. Why did they all of the sudden get comfortable enough to ask me out, just because I was outside with a shovel in my hands?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;TALK BACK: &lt;/b&gt;Would you date a neighbor? Why or why not?&lt;/i&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/feeds/7893191982246702062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/02/when-neighbors-try-to-holla.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/7893191982246702062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8671904682260320456/posts/default/7893191982246702062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fabulousfemininity.blogspot.com/2010/02/when-neighbors-try-to-holla.html' title='When Neighbors Try to Holla'/><author><name>Fabulous Femininity</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08833722474080925995</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='19' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dN9xnb9vfG0/Tr1GOwU6dOI/AAAAAAAAB7Y/UE7Z8HQwQ-s/s220/FabFem1.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxr3hZX4uQKYmU2WZ7YnCsDSPfsgeNeiBMsodmHbKX119yiFbEQrb5oIKwEzeQuMCn5ZQuvfus5ORjRFGjS8dmMTORecObmIyjM2KYt4_sbSYeYMDdFEum86iFc9dW2JeGsUXesPDR030/s72-c/neighbor.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>