to his mistress

I'm not saying I can never forgive you. I just need to say this first.

I was you, five years ago. Young, desirable, creative. I had men at my doorstep and baggage in my bedroom. I took no prisoners and asked for no histories. I bumped into so many relationships and never worried about the bruises I caused. Because nobody's bruises were like mine.

I am forgiving you because I do not believe that my man was the first, nor would be the last in your life you will use to mask your own insecuruties. I am forgiving you because in your youth you tried to do the impossible; you attempted to be someone you could never be. Me, in my happy relationship.

I am hopeful that as a woman, you learn someday that disrespecting another woman is a painful, embarrassing mirror that only puts you in a position to reinvent the pains you are already feeling.

I am hopeful that as a woman you decide to put your self before your pussy, your pain, your horniness and your power over men. That is a lesson that is slow to learn but will give you instant happiness.

I know you. Not because of our many hours together. Not because of your quiet disclosures about your life and your past. Not because we now have dick in common. I know you because that scared little girl peeking out behind all that pretend sexiness has a universal name and face. She is so many women competing for the hearts, mind and money of so many broken men. She pretends to be solace to an aching penis. She hopes that her trists will one day bloom into commitment.

That girl used to be me. But one day I decided that my life would not be a series of other people's dick. I decided I needed me whole, and didn't want to give away anymore parts of me anymore.

But you haven't been hurt enough. You haven't felt enough of another woman's pain to keep your pain to yourself. You haven't taken enough risks in love that have failed miserably. You haven't hit rock bottom. So you will continue to make mistakes until you learn how to love you.

You can never be me. You can never write enough poems and articles. You could never get your makeup just right. You could never be attractive enough to my man for him to want to leave me. You can give him all your pussy, but you could never have his soul. I know what it is.

There is no replacement for real love. When you try to replace it with cheap imitations, life rejects it. I'm not perfect. Neither is he. And neither are you. But please learn to keep you imperfections to yourself until you find someone to who wants to deal with it.

If I didn't want to really forgive you, I couldn't have written all this. I am just telling you the things one of my exboy's women should have told me years ago.

feeling virginal

I made it through the wilderness
Somehow I made it through
Didnt know how lost I was
Until I found you

I was beat incomplete
Id been had, I was sad and blue
But you made me feel
Yeah, you made me feel
Shiny and new
Like A Virgin by Madonna

Believe it when I tell you. One day, you will meet a guy who will make you wish you were a virgin. He will make you wish you were inexperienced. So that every experience you have of passion, love, adoration would be with him and only him.

One day, you will met a guy that will make all of your prior sexual experiences obsolete. The good ones, the bad ones...the ones that didn't mean anything, yet still left you feeling empty inside.

One day, you will meet a man that will make you wish you weren't a freak. He will make you wish you weren't using sexual techniques that you learned from other men.

When you are alone, it's so hard to hold out and think about the future. When you are just drifting between lovers, it's thrilling to be able to make a man react with your sexual skill. It's nothing to strut around in a sexy outfit, or do something new with your tongue.

But real love lets you know that all of that means nothing, when there is no feeling behind it. It's like scoring baskets with no points.

The Vibrator Graveyard

There was the pink butterfly. The purple elephant, less than one year old. Various caps and accessories of bright and feminine colors, some melded together by heat and time. See, this lifelike plastic "skin" isn't supposed to rub together. Only on clits. Maybe they bonded in protest to what was about to happen.

I just cleaned out my box of sex toys, formerly known as the Vibrator Graveyard. Toys and trinkets I had enjoyed for the past few years, who have seen their day, needed to be thrown out. Why keep a vibrating elephant who could know longer trumpet? Why keep my butterflies who know longer flutter? And why clutter my sex toy chest with worn out toys. It was time for them to go.

What would the trashman think, unloading bags and coming across one ful of used and abused play things, some stuck together?

I made room for my new toy. It is a sleek and pink bullet, with no skin-like plastic; no pretty animals making their rounds up and down my soft spots. I must admit, it's not as pleasurable as my pretty deceased animals that i just got rid of. And it probably won't last as long, knowing how I have a 6 to 9 month shelf life with most sex toys. Once the bullet has been shot, I will be going back to a rubbery blue dolphin, or perhaps a pink hummingbird. Animals on sex toys seem to be the only ones I like!

It IS Trickin If You Got It

Rappers are running around, giving ill advice to men. Shit, they've been doing that for years. The recent damage is in a popular phrase, "it ain't trickin' if you got it," meaning that if you have a lot of money, and you spend it on a chick, it doesn't matter if she is using you because you have the money to spare. That philosphy is flawed, to say the least.

Let's look at the anatomy of a trick. A trick is a man who stupidly, yet lavishly spend money on a woman in order to secure sex or attention. From a woman's perspective, she doesn't care if you "have it" to spare or not; she just wants the money. Most tricks are men who wouldn't normally be attractive to women, if it wasn't for his money.

Tricks are usually men who:

• used to be nerds, and have turned their smarts into some kind of IT or engineering career and now have money to buy all of the pussy they were scared to smell in high school


• used to be lame before they came into a whole lot of illegal money and now brandish their doe and the fact that they are drug dealers, or rappers who work for drug dealers, by "hanging over the wall in VIP," buying all the pretty girls drinks and eventually Coach bags


• are old men who have worked 40 years, have a pension and nothing else to spend their money on besides young pussy

So in all of these cases, the tricks must compensate for the fact that they have no real swagger, with money. There is nothing wrong with trying to impress a woman you are fond of. Dinner, a couple drinks, some meaningful presents are all good, when they accompany real feelings. But if the only thing you want from the chick is sex and bragging rights, than it IS trickin', especially if you got it.

Because men with no money are way more selective of who they spend money on. If you know your budget is limited, then you won't be buying ever phat ass and her girls a drink. You will pick the one you have the best chance with, polish up your game, a purchase ONE drink. After the man knows he has more of a 50 percent chance of having sex with her...then dinner.

Tricks will buy a whole crew of girls drinks AND breakfast AND ride them around in their Hummer (or whatver the ballers are driving these days). They will brag about their degrees or all the rappers they smoked weed with. But when it's time to seal the deal, and get some sex, a lot of the times they fumble. And if they do luck up and get some, she's faking it. She's faking it because she knows she can see all parts of your wallet, in exchange for some dull sex.

So don't let T-Pain, Lil' Wayne and them tell you that just because you have money, you ain't a trick. You are the trick! You are the dude that hoes look out for in the club. The reason why any woman with any ounce of game never brings money to the club! Besides, look at T-Pain...do you really think women would love him if it wasn't for the money??

men need head

"Let me break it down so it can forever and consistently be broke." From Love Jones

It's hard being a man. Not because of the pressures of the world, and the daunting role of being a leader to households, communities and whatnot. I mean, that shit is hard, but women do it too. It's hard being a man, because they must always balance their ego/masculinity, with their sensitive side. Yes, your man wants to plow you 90 percent of the time...but sometimes he just wants to make love. Leveraging that with the emotions of a woman can drive men crazy. And of course, the stresses of being leaders of the free world...

Nothing, not good food, not movies about explosions, not rap music, not a beer...not even good ol' regular sex, can satisfy a man like good head. There is something about taking the most sensitive, rugged and important part of your man's body, then wrapping your mouth around it, that means more to him than anything in the world. He towers over you like a titan, and watches as you moisturize his member with your tongue juices. It is idol worship. It makes him feel like a god.

There are some women who don't give head. Some are intimidated. Let's face it, men's penises can be overwhelming. And no woman wants to "do it" wrong. So they never do. For those women, they just need more time to understand the power of men and why head is a neccesity.

There are some women who don't give head because they are stingy. These women are assisting with the demise of the world. I can meet a man and within seconds, figure out if they are getting head or not. They can be awkward, tense and jumpy. They are flashy, arrogant and uptight. Sometimes they are just mean and chauvinistic. Because they have no one in their life letting them know they are the shit.

No one in the world tells your man he is the gorgeous, strapping, big-dicked hunk that he is. Not TV, not his job, not his momma. No one can do that for him, except his woman. A man can always meet another chick who can give him that feeling, and then women get mad for being cheated on (see Monica Lewinsky). And most likely, that is all he is wanting. To feel like he's the shit. And the best way to do that is by giving head.

So ladies, if you haven't given your man head this week, make it a point to do it as soon as possible. Text him. Tell him, "hey babe...head when you get home?" He'll be at the door waiting, with his goods ripe and ready. And don't give him head, expecting oral in return. Just do it, let him feel satisfied. Let him take a little nap afterwards. It will give you time to talk on the phone with your friends.

For the men who aren't getting head from their women. Jeez, I just don't know what to tell you. You are either dealing with a naive or conservative chick. Or a selfish bitch. Do you really see yourself with either in the long run?

recession my ass...

There may be less money going around, but there is something that is in abundance. Love.

In the past 24 hours, I found out 3 of my friends were preggers. I currently have 5 friends who are with child.

Congrats to you all for finding something to do when the gas is high and money is tight.

Desire

On the flip side. Real desire is more than just a physical thing. It's more than what happends at night. What happends when no one is looking. When you are truly, madly desired by a man...it can be the spark that ignites your day.

My boyfriend took these photos of me, while in Cincinnati as we were about to go to one of his gigs. I can tell by the way these turned out that he really loves me. That feeling is worth more than all of the dumb and decitful stuff I've been through. I thank God for a man who finally sees me in love.

Booty

"Your booty might be bigger but I still can pull your nigga, but I don't want him..."

Booty by Erykah Badu

One thing that I've learned in my nearly 10 years in the dating world is: if things don't start on the right foot, they won't ever be right. Ever.

Not love or prayer or ignoring the problems will ever fix something that was broke to begin with.

I used to be a woman, who was predatory. Who looked for holes and gaps in other people's relationships in order to find a way in. I didn't want anything but the satisfaction of knowing I could get any man I desired.

And that bad karma followed me into most of the relationships I had. And I never understood why shit wouldn't work out for me. Because I was a good girlfriend. I cooked, cleaned, was an adventurous lover...pretty much any and everything a man wanted.

I made this personal, because I wanted to come at this topic a totally different way. It's hard to understand why women go after men who they know in their hearts they can never have. Even single men who are emotionally detached. See, we can't blame the men sometimes.

Because a lot of women want to feel validated, wanted, sexy. They want to be lusted after. They want to feel better than the other chick. I know because I was her. And was the first bitch crying about trust, and the demise of the relationship.

You can't expect things to work out for you, if you go about things in a decietful and manipulative manner. As a woman, you have to know that you possess certain powers over men. But you can't use that to fuck up other people's shit. Men are weak when it comes to women, and being a tempting seductress only messes up your own life.

You have to have respect for other women and their needs before you go and sabotauge their shit. And how could you ever trust a man who is leaving his woman for you? I'm not asking as a person who has never been on both sides of the issue. At times, I just question how lowly I once thought of my own self.

The Otherside of the Game

I know that he loves me I know hope that he's faithful. I just wish he was around more.

See, my boyfriend is in high demand. He is talented, charismatic and driven. And he loves what he does. He loves it so much, that most of the time I am home sleep after late nights in the studio or at a gig. A lot of our time together centers around his work some way or another. I love his work. He has a way of striking notes that moves people. It moves me.

But I wish that so much of our time together wasn't work related. It's great to have a talented and creative musician to sleep with every night. It also sucks to have a talented and creative musician who is always sleepy when you seen him.

And it doesn't help that I am bored all the time because I hate my job and none of my friends are fuckin with me. I'm a mover and a shaker and as of lately I've been twiddling my thumbs, bored. I'd love to spend hours a day doing something I love.

Am I jealous? A little. I don't get anywhere near the opportunities and love that my boyfriend does. People love him a lot more than they love me. I, on the other hand, am like watermelon in December; out of season. People just ain't feelin me right now. And I wish I could describe this frustration right now.

And if I were him, I'd rather spill my creative juices, then sit around listening to some whiny girl. But sometimes I wish he'd forget about the world and just sit around with this whiny girl sometimes...

Vibrate Not So Much

So my favorite toy tinkered out on me last night...so much for my handmade sensual seductions...

Vibrate Much?

In the past couple days, I've masturbated more than I have in the past six months. At least three to four times a day. I don't even know when I've had the time to do all that, between fighting with my boyfriend and my other daily weirdo responsibilities.

I've been lonely though. And I've felt like shit. And the only thing besides gateway drugs that medicates me at this point are self-inflicted orgasms. But vibrating today is way different than vibrating when I wrote about it last year.

It's different because it is much quicker and less overall sensual than the sex I am used to. I've moved from prefering sex to masturbation. I delight more in the back and forth delight of making love with another person, not just myself. Or, am I losing sight of how to pleasure myself?

Have I moved from solo-think to total couple-think? I don't know. It's not that masturbation doesn't feel great and that I feel bad. It just emphasizes my lonliness. I mean, I could be feeling this way AND making him smile too.

Nevertheless, I masturbate and though the fire gets just as hot as orgasms flame throughout my body, and I think back to the marathon sessions of the past couple months, the weirdest thing is opening my eyes, journeying out of my imagination and realizing that I'm alone.

The Chick in the Mirror

Love is a growing evolving thing that has to seep into whatever crevice that is lacking. Love has to have enough stretch and pull to fit over the most impossible holes. Love is more than just what feels right. It's being pliable enough for someone else.

Me, I'm not pliable. Because of previous cats, I've become molded and rigid. I believe that I deserve special consideration because of my past. I haven't worked hard enough on sealing those wounds.

It's like...plungering a toilet that's clogged with shit, toilet paper used to clean up the shit and whatever waste stuffed down into the pipe. It could be shit on top of shit. Or one big shit. It could be all the toilet paper you used to clean up one little shit. It could be something that doesn't even belong in the toilet, that happened to fall in. And the toilet becomes inoperable. Regardless of what is stuck in the toilet, who put it there and who's responsible...somebody's gotta unclog what's stuck and clean up the mess.

The mess, in this case, is jealousy, insecurity and codependency. My mess that has been created and patched up from years of learning about relationships. My interpretation of love has been distorted for reasons that are probably similiar to many 26 year old women. My case is neither unique nor devastating. Just mine.

So what has happened is that I have inflicted these personal, yet distorted beliefs upon another individual with his own set of personal, yet distorted beliefs. We have operated out of the best love that we know. He hasn't seeped into every crevice I needed him to. I haven't stretched far enough to cover his gaps. We've done the best we could with what we got. But it's now time to clean up our own shit.

Because it's spilling out into violence, hurtful words and other indiscretions. Pain can tower over any other emotion when left unchecked. It's as dominate as love, and can impead upon it.

I am in love the best way I can be. With the correct tools and some inadequate ones. I can't look at my partner to be the putty or the glue to hold me together though. I have to do that myself. I have to be constant regardless. Even when hurt. Neither of us are innocent, neither are evil. Both of us are trying.

A Song For You

"Donna, I hope you don't still hate me. Please give me a call one day, I want us to be friends." The email was brief, and my ex-boyfriend kind of had a point. It had been at least two years since we had last communicated. And as tumultous as our ending was, I'm not the one who holds grudges. I've forgiven a lot more for a lot worst crimes.

But there was something about this situation I could not let go. More than the other chick. More than the embarrassment of being cheated on. More than the months of being led on. it was that song. My ex wrote a song about me, and put it on his MySpace page for everyone to hear. Okay, he wasn't T-Pain, so it wasn't for everyone to hear. But it was public enough to tear even more holes into any fabric of a friendship that still existed between us.

The gist of the song? I love this girl, but I just can't stop having sex with her. And she uses sex to keep me around. In his tale, summarizing the end of our relationship, he depicted me not only as manipulative...but desperate. He said, I used my body and my head to control his heart. I forced him to betray his heart for what his dick wanted. And all of this was set to a sample of Let's Stay Together by Al Green.

On a scale from 1 to 10, my feelings for this boy were a solid 6. So though the actual situation felt pretty horrendous, the calculation behind totally embarassing me afterwards is what really hurt. It's one thing to bad mouth an ex in the heat of a conversation. It's quite another to write a song, produce a beat, buy studio time to record it and then upload it onto MySpace.

So for that discretion, I'm finding it hard to reply to emails and random text messages from him...I can't even produce fake smiles as my friends casually mention this fella. For immortalizing my pain and making me look like a needy broad, I don't know if he can ever been forgiven.

Forever, Ever??

The rose he bought me on Valentine's Day (13 days ago) that is thriving in one of my old Moscato bottles. Lush.

The most hard to believe aspect about being in a serious and committed relationship is the fact that I've actually met someone who wants to be serious and committed to me. Me? Are you sure brotha?

Not that I'm not worth it. I'm a sharp and smart woman with a lot going for her. I have independance, but not so much I want to take a man's place. And I'm not going to trip out on you every other second. I don't mind you scoping other women's booties. I'm looking too.

But I have very little experience with being open and honest. The men I've dated didn't like being questioned, and loved that I never asked. My quiet tirades and silent treatments were heaven to them. If only every girl could be so passive and willing to distance herself!

But not this guy, who wants to do the always and forever thing with me. He wants my voice. He wants my opinions and my anger. He wants to collect my tears as they fall. He wants my emotions raw from the source. My uneasiness comes from never having done this before. I'm not against sharing and openness. I'm a virgin at it.

Sometimes his transperancy is unexpected and startling. At first, I didn't want it. And at first it kind of hurt. But then I had one of those light bulb moments that Oprah is always talking about. This is just the kid of interaction to bring me out of my shell.

Though it's tough, I know the blossoming of this new communication will be beautiful. And working at this forever thing is different, considering I've never had monogamy. I've learned by not pressuring him into anything serious, he decided he wanted to do something serious. On his own. I'm fascinated by this reaction.

This thing he and I are doing...being in love...has to be heaven sent. Because I really couldn't imagine any other man trying to do this forever thing with me.

Song For Today: Heaven Sent by Donnie

You Know You Love Donna!!!

Me with about 30 more pounds of makeup and skank.

I have a strong desire to start my own dating show, ala I Love New York. I think it’s an excellent idea to explore all of my options at once. It’s kind of a turn on to have several men vying for your attention. I’ve talked to my mother about this, my sister and my close friends. They all believe me to be nuts.

Nevertheless, it is hard to kill a fantasy. So considering the men I have currently in my pool, I’ve devised a crude, yet effective means of tracking my affections for them. I’ve made up nicknames and vague descriptions of these guys, in the hopes that I can make the best dating decisions for me. I’d love to go out with each of them and then compare notes, but seeing that I’m busy as hell, that would take months. So I will go out with one of these fellows, if you tell me to, I promise.

Suave

This brother is clean and collected. He would have been a Kappa if he wasn’t such an individual. He’s career driven and hard working. A nice dresser and is always immaculate…from conversation to cologne.

Pros: Suave is stable. He’s one of those guys that you can take anywhere and knows how to handle himself in social situations. He’s sexy, but not overt. His lowkeyness is a nice compliment to my sometimes big personality.

Cons: Is this dude for real? Does he ever laugh or stumble or get drunk and loosen up? As much as I like stability, this guy’s “Courvoisier and Small Talk” attitude is kind of boring me.

Hood Figga

I met him in a club, on some ignorant shit. I could tell he was immediately enamored with me. He’s from the hood and has never touched natural hair before. He’s got the gutter passion in his eyes. He’s from Cleveland, has no kids, a steady job and a big ass dog.

Pros: He is pretty much impressed with all of my quirkiness, which I think is cool. He has sort of a hood sophistication that I think is sweet. He wants a family, has a core of responsible friends and isn’t looking for drama. That’s cool.

Cons: He’s still on BlackPlanet, and his friends call him Pooh. I’m not sure about his personal style…and though he likes the artsy, funky thing I got going on now…will he understand me in the long run? Plus, Donna’s not so sure she’s ready to move to Cleveland and live with somebody’s big ass dog.

Mr. Connecticut

The most cosmopolitan of all the men I know, this guy is heavy into music, nice things, culture and living life. He’s from the East Coast, and has this Hip Hop individuality that I really love. He’s older and more mature than me, so a lot of my mind games and shit don’t work on him. He needs a woman who wants to be a jetsetter and is looking for the finer things in life. He offers me a lot more opportunity and probably has the most appeal.

Pros: This guy is pretty hot. Not only in the looks department, but he gives me the most opportunity to get my Beyonce “Upgrade U” on. He wants a woman who can do for him what Martin did for the people. He wants to go to London on a whim. Yet he still has this regularness about him. He’s big into culture, and I love that. He says he wouldn’t mind me moving east with him, and exploring myself as an artist while he pays for everything. Ay bay bay.

Cons: This nigga is a little too cool for school. He has stood me up like three times and some of his love for me seems a little too good to be true. His expression that he needs a woman in his life sometimes seems like he wants somebody to do all the shit he doesn’t want to do. He has two kids, one who just learned how to drive. Umm, Donna and a 16 year old…I don’t think so!

Mr. Keys

The newest of the bunch. This guy is chock full of personal style and creativity. He plays the piano, and because I have a weakness for creative men, I really, really want to see him stroke those keys. He’s very passionate about everything he does. He’s a gentleman and has no kids.

Pros: This is the guy I’m the most curious about. He’s witty, yet the most mysterious. After seeing him out and about, I probably think about him the most. He always leaves me something to remember him about….especially his casual references to his sexual technique and whatnot. Yeah.

Cons: There are a couple very distinct things about this guy that makes me not want to date him. First off, he’s short. Not like, short for a chick. I mean, short, like 5’4 or something. Every time I see him in the club, I have to slither down the wall in order to get on his level. Second, I’ve slept with his friend. It wasn’t anything serious, and it wasn’t even good. But it happened…I mean, I don’t care…but I don’t know what he would think about it. Third, I don’t think he’s used to dealing with women like me. So I’d have to cut him if he ever made a big deal about sleeping with me. Fourth, this would obviously be more about sex than finding a real relationship. I don’t see me bringing this short nigga to my parents’ house.

Fantasy Boy

The threat to everyone in my dating pool. Probably the most flawed of all my prospects, but the one I have the most chemistry with. We work well together. We challenge each other. We are both weird. He’s pretty much the hottest guy I’ve ever nailed and the only one who pushes my buttons. If he were stable and committed, he’d be the one.

Pros: A perfect combination of smart, wit, personal style, creativity and introspect. He isn’t even threatened by the idea of me dating other men, and that confidence is sexy. I see myself becoming more of a zany artist under his tutelage. The only guy I’m really passionate about.

Cons: He’s unstable. He’s broke. He has baby mama drama. He has ex-girlfriend drama. He has random hoe issues. He can’t be monogamous. He’s jealous. He’s lazy. I don’t think his momma likes me and his family is loony. He can be tacky and low ball his talent. There is a fantasy life I see us living, but then again, I can see myself taking care of him, being knocked up, with Kool-Aid red weave, chasing chicks away too.

Cadillac

This is the guy that reminds me the most of my father. He is somewhat quirky, yet very stable and knows how to take care of a woman and a family. He was an ex-boyfriend from college who I told needed to change…and he did. Now, he is focused on his career and getting ready to get married. He’s old school, and kind of country. He dresses nice and is a cutie baby.

Pros: Cadillac is the guy who knows and understands me the most. He lets me be me and isn’t scared by my weirdness. He gets the thumbs up from my sister. He wants to take care of me….shit, he took me to Las Vegas and I didn’t pay for a thing! He has a cool job on the West Coast and says I can come stay with him.

Cons: Probably the least passionate of all of the guys, I know Cadillac wants me…but he isn’t charming. He only knows how to do it one way; hard and fast. He isn’t romantic in the least, and can be kind of cheap. He wants to do the same thing for the next 30 years and that’s it…I may get bored with that. He’s also jealous and very, very light skin.

So who should I go out with?

Whip Appeal

"'Cause we got a way of talking/And it's better than words/It's the strangest kind of relationship/Oh, but with us it always works"

Whip Appeal by Babyface

What more could a girl want? Actually, scratch that. Women want a lot out of relationships. They want to be fully understood. They want happiness and reciprocity. I don't need all of that out of a man. I don't need high levels of acceptance.

This doesn't mean I'm cold as ice. That's the perception I've been trying to fight since I decided I wasn't going to be as giving in relationships. Just because my love is no longer an open book, that doesn't mean I won't entertain long looks.

This is hard to explain to people. Men are a lot more emotional than they think. And older ones are looking for stability and relationships. They are looking to lock it down with a wife. The are looking to be understanding and give a woman happiness and make her feel need constantly.

That's doing too much for me.

But I want to communicate. I want to disagree and be mad without causing drama. I want to be ecstatic and excited with just cause. I want my passion to erupt and ebb and flow throughout the relationship. I just don't want a man to make a big deal about it. I want a man who understands my whip appeal.

And has whip appeal of his own.

I heard the song, Whip Appeal, made popular by Babyface, on the radio the other day. And it explained exactly the kind of relationship I am looking for. See, I do a lot of talking and explaining and schmoozing for a living. With a man, I want it to be simple.

Come home and go hard. And not just sexually. Just someone who is ready to use all their senses to experience me. And leave the drama outside the door.

In the song, Babyface says, "whip all your sweet, sad lovin on me." Even the sadness of the world. Use it and express it while loving me.

That's the kind of man I want. One with whip appeal.

Just in case you need a refresher:

The Whip Appeal video (you know you wanna click it)

Young & Hot Boys

I have this fantasy that some naive, striking, well-built young man is going to submit to my tutelage, wanting me to teach him the finer points of pleasing a woman. And because of this young boy fantasy, I have had some bad sex.

These young and hot boys don't exist. Have I not forgotten how sex with any man under the age of 25 goes. Lots of ass smacking and rough-housing. Bad choices in music and foreplay. Foreplay, if it occurs, is usually mimicing something he sees in some porn that hurts more than gets me excited. But pain and wincing gets young boys excited. Lots of shit talking and hard, meaningless thrusting with no attention to how I am feeling. No, I don't want your gold chain flapping against my ass when you are hitting it from the back. Take off your hat, and your socks. Turn off the Chingy and try some Marvin Gaye.

In spite of these bad experiences, I still have this notion that some young, impressionable beau would bask in my sexual experience, wanting to know all the finer points of climax. These boys are usually athletes, with chisled bodies and cocky mouthpieces, who promise to be ravishing between the sheets. But they aren't. So many are clumsy, fumbling, near-vigins, who can't handle 10 percent of my sexual tricks.

So I am killing my young boy fantasy today. No more sex with any man under the age of 28 (of course, over the age of 21). No longer will I believe that any man under that age is interesting in anything besides fulfilling some BET UnCut fantasy. I'd rather have an older hot boy any day.

Who Will Love Me In The Winter?

I wouldn't have a second though 'bout the Fall
But I'm wondering who will love me in the Winter

Who Will Love Me In The Winter, Van Hunt

Oh shit. It's almost winter. All of the "good enough" men are being snatched up for fireplace snuggling. Pickings are getting slim. I didn't calculate my mental, get right plan to compensate for a winter boy. But I think I kinda want one.

So I decided that I almost think it is time for me to have conversations with men again. I haven't given out a phone number in a good four months. I can admit that I've been a little lonely and attention starved. I guess that's the first step.

But since my self-evaluation period, I've developed this laundry list of qualifications that I want out of a mate. A laundry list, not a end-all list...these are the only requirements list. I'm flexible.

Here is a list of requirements for the guy I would consider seeing over the next few months...or longer.

1. He must be able to tolerate my daily, obscure quoting of Jay-Z lyrics.

2. I only require one night/day a week of full on attention. Texting and instant messaging is highly recommended in other times of communications.

3. You know, I'd like to spend the night at a guy's house every now and then. It's been ages since I've spent the night somewhere.

4. Don't be weirded out that I don't mind talking about other women's physiques and shit. I'll even go to the strip club with you! I promise, it's not a trick.

5. He has to be a music lover. Yes, I will most likely argue more about why Lupe Fiasco sucks than you talking to another chick.

6. No chain restaurants, please. I'd rather spend $10 at a low key spot than $50 at Longhorn Steakhouse.

7. As far as style, I don't like guys who dress like rappers. I don't like guys who are ALWAYS dressed up either. But if we have to dress up, please don't be whiny about it.

8. Please have a life, and ways to fill your time. I promise on a stack of Sade CDs that I don't have to see you more than once a week. I am a busy, busy girl. On top of the fact that I am a introspective girl. I spend a lot of time alone. I don't mind hanging with friends and being friendly. But we don't have to be coupled up all the time.

9. Don't be intimidated by this PR thing I do, or overly impressed. PR is a seperate animal of its own, that requires to be extremely nice and almost flirty with other people. It requires me to have intimate conversations with important and/or famous people at times. It manifests nothing but business relationships and money.

10. Sex would be nice. Real nice.

Things I don't care about: cars, incomes, exes, shoe size, your jewelry, sports

5 Minutes

I sat staring into song after song, for at least five minutes. Nevermind the coffee maker's percolating or the fax machine's buzz. My phone lit up about three time. For five minutes or so, his face, out of nowhere, floated into my life. I am a slave of his thoughts. The world continues to turn around me. But sometimes my mind gets stuck at digesting what happened last spring. In procesing our demise, everything stops.

The sequence of events make perfect sense. The syntax of the story is sound and correct. The reasons behind each action are apporpriate. The brain approved and sanctioned each and every step to end this. But the heart, oh the heart, is weak.

Everyone sees is. We are both zombies to the world. Both heartless, emotionally irresponsible and reckless. Neither can manage our feelings. We both fumble at the mention of each other's name. I wrestle with the idea that you even miss me. I wrestle and I never win.

There is no solution. There is nothing, no Botox or physical therapy that will change the way my eyes angle down when thinking of you. There is no sponge to soak up my sulk. See, you may not see it. But I know it.

Five minutes later, life snaps its fingers and once again, I am at work. Coffee machines continue to percolate. Fax machines are still buzzing. And text messages and whatnot beg to be answered. Regadless of where I claim to be stuck in my heart, life is going on.

sex.revelations

1. It is way cooler for women to be chronic masturbators than men.

2. Some sex doesn't count. If I don't shiver, it doesn't count.

3. Everyone should masturbate at work.

4. Men will do anything to seduce a woman. I swear, I'm never asking for it again.

5. Fantasizing about having sex with someone is usually better than actually having sex with someone.

6. Sometimes I watch porn and am totally disgusted.

7. Sometimes I watch porn and believe that the actors are totally into it.

8. I would never want to see a video of me having sex.

9. Why is it that men never find my spot? Are they trying to find it?

10. My sex mood can be drastically altered based on the music leading up to the sex.

11. Some men are really cute, really hot and really smart, but just not sexy.

12. Somtimes writing about sex is hotter than having sex.

13. What some people see as fuckable, I see as gay.

14. I should have sex in my office before I leave my job.

15. Women are sexier than men. There is nothing cute about a cold and limp penis. Cold and wet women are hotter.