"Get the P*ssy" Playlist

One of my favorite quotes on the topic of music comes from Victor Hugo who says that "Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent."  A completely accurate deduction which I believe is completely appropriate for helping me to discuss the following:  Never underestimate the power of a Get the Pussy Playlist. 

(Not really hidden...but) Hidden on my iTunes are a few gems of playlists just waiting for me to either finish writing my book, or to finally break down and schedule a flight to see Mr. Pink before I bust through the door of a sexually frustrated nervous breakdown (on which I am currently knocking). I digress...music is undeniably powerful.  Before every game I had to listen to Pastor Troy to get ready to knock some heads (I played Rugby) and I have learned that if I want to maintain any semblance of a decent insurance premium, I have to stop listening to Young Jeezy during trips that are longer than 20 miles (I really don't know how he is so able to COMPLETELY just not ALLOW me to drive slower than 92 mph).  And so it is with the sex playlists...maaaaaannnn....these are tools we all talk about and think about when we were NEW to the sex and intimacy game...but, once people get all "grown" and don't have to worry about a roommate down the hall hearing what is going on, the sex play list quickly became a forgotten art. 

I'm not just talking that slow jam filled playlist that is supposed to make you think you're in love for a few minutes...I'm talking that...Real...Deal...Bust...It...Down...to...THE BEAT...mix of songs...those old school joints that you heard in your dreams growing up and you never realized how they got there (Yo...Pops was INFAMOUS)  but now you are in your mid to late 20s, and early 30s and yet you love Lenny Williams...and those songs you hum at work and forget its Monday because you have that goofy post -"big O" face on your mug.

I'm a Georgia Girl...and every REAL Georgia Peach has some songs that have made her want to be a stripper.  It may have only been for a few moments...maybe in her dorm room..may have been the first night she tasted tequila in a club...but at SOME point, she has heard a beat that made her imagine Onyx or Magic City (even if she's never clubbed in Atlanta) and made her wanna *pop that pussy for a real n***a...#FACT.  Now...I've been a long-time supporter of the S.C.C.F. (Strip Club College Fund) which has helped me earn my Strip Club Philanthropy Badge in the Home Girl Scouts (we don't sell cookies...but we may...nevermind)...so I know that strippers are not always that pretty...but when we have our "I'm a Stripper" fantasy...we're not thinking of those...And if you play the "Strip Club in my Mind "mix...a Peach is going to ride the HELL out that thang...

EVERYONE needs at least 3 playlists:

1) The Eat The Box Mix:  *Shout Out to my Twin*  This mix will consist of the normal love song fare...R&B...but you have to include Robin Thicke and Jon B for that added ecstasy when it comes to eating it from the back. You also gotta have the early 90s greats...Shai, Dru Hill, ALLUHDAT...and maybe a litte Usher...something with a driving beat even though its slow...so with the beat, the mood can be switched up and the rhythm of the song can motivate a few changes in tongue action along with the song. During some course of this list, have some D'Angelo...because ALL D'Angelo songs for some reason have a perfect melody for trailing up from the pelvis to the belly button for a little oooohhhhaaaahhhh time, before coming all the way up...THEN this playlist doubles as a "Lets Make Love" list. 

2) The Soundtrack to my Daydreams Mix:  You need a few of those classic songs that make the nani talk to you...there are undeniably some songs that just make the punany throb...you know what they are...so you put those on a mix.  This mix easily becomes part of the pre-game process...it's the playlist that gets played in the car on the way to the house/hotel/whatever special spot for "getting it in."  These are the songs that may possible come on the Party Shuffle one day and you have a down right aftershock from the flashback.  #GoodShit

(All Day I Dream About Sex)

3) The Strip Club in my Mind Mix:  Like I said...EVERY GA Peach has a song that has made her feel like a stripper...but EVERY woman has some songs that make her feel sexy. Those Sex Kitten songs have the power to unlock some freaky-deaky in and out of the bedroom.  My personal favorites tend to include beats that just scream making that ass "round of applause," Atlanta-based rappers, and HEAVY BASS.  These are the songs that you can put on shuffle and repeat...and let the fun begin...because when a woman feels like a sex kitten...you can sit back...relax...and you'll BOTH enjoy the *ride*.

I'll share a few from the Strip Club in MY mind:

(Future's voice gets the pussy wet....)

Ain't No Way Around It - Future
Put It Down - Ray Lavender ft. T-Pain
Walk With Way - P$C ft. Cee-Lo Green
Hello - T.I. Ft. Governor
Tear the Pussy Up - Yung Jeezy
Let's Get Away - T.I. Ft Jazze Pha
To The Moon - Future
Freaky Girl -Gucci Mane

DON'T CHEW THE CHOCHA 2: Muthaf***** Yoni Massage

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It needs to be said...

One of the earliest and most vivid of my memories of my parents together was the night my mother ran away.  I can close my eyes and see everything, though all I have left is a mental video with no sound. The milky porcelain of her skin quickly turned purple under the barrage of blows from my father's closed fists.  His eyes, wild with fury, dance above a mouth wide open, teeth gnashing...and completely silent.  I can feel my own mouth moving, and I am aware that I am screaming in Korean.  My vision has not become blurry, so I know, unlike my sister, I am not crying.  I watch as my father throws my mother into a marble and mahoghany table which served as their nightstand and see the wooden support spintering with the force.  He quickly turns to their bedroom's closet in search for the M9 Baretta we all know rests in one of his many gun boxes at the top. 

 At a few months past the age of 3, a quiet promise to myself was planted as I screamed in all the English I could muster, for my father to not kill my mother. At that point, my memory blanks. 

I was 7 the first time my father punched me because I looked like my mother.  The same face I remembered staring down at my mother's body crumpled on the floor from that rainy October night, returned during a ride to school.  In slow motion I saw his lips part to bark out "You lie like your mother" as a bitter cold radiated from my nose to chill my entire body, freezing time until the warmth of blood pouring from my nose seconds later, forced me into the reality that I did not want anyone at school to see me crying and bloody.  It was the first of a few memories, concentrated in the next 3 years, that turned a quiet promise into a vow that I would never let a man lay a non-loving hand on me.

Statistically speaking, I am 6 times more likely to accept physical abuse from a relationship partner than a woman who did not witness or experience abuse on her mother.  I am more susceptible to allowing a spouse or relationship partner to commit some form of sexual violence against me.  It is a fairly widely-known and accepted belief that women like me will probably fail to report instances of abuse.

I grew up without a mother because she refused to continue being a punching bag for a man who could find no constructive way of dealing with his own demons...many of which came from his own father's use of physical domination tactics on his wife and children.  My father never touched alcohol in the fear that it was in the liquor that my grandfather awakened his rage...but my father needed no external catalyst to unleash his own misery on others.  Domestic Violence is not only physically violent, it is emotionally, mentally, as well as financially abusive.  Whether it occurs in private, or in the public sector to be disected and analyzed by those who have never experienced it personally, there are other issue present.  I do not condone physical violence of any kind on anyone...but I do know what can cause it.  I will not allow a man to put his hands on me, I will not stay if I see the signs of an abuser, but I will also not put my hands on him.  I will not create an environment where the possible escalation is abuse.

Before you judge the life and relationships of some celebrity...check the mirror first.  I'm not saying you won't come to the same conclusion...but...maybe when you make your opinion known, you won't sound like a jackass on the outside looking in...to someone who really knows the feeling. 

Instant Family: Just Add Water

I really don't like children...as a whole...they are damp, they smell funny, and they always find some reason to try and touch you (YUCK).  I have yet to discover any desire to be maternal.  I have 'God-children' (2) and a grand-niece and nephew who are my major exposure to the younger generation.  I love them...I don't always like to be around them...but it really helps me deal with them that they have a home...that is not my house.  My entire dating history, I have determined that I would rather never date a man with kids...and even if I did...it probably wouldn't work anyway...that is until...he happened.

  

With one man...I found myself taking a second look at all of my 'dating requirements' and possibly going against them.  He's only 6'2"-ish...when my normal minimum is 6'3."  He's younger than me (by 5 months) when I prefer men who are at least 4 years older.  He's light-skinned...(I use the paper bag test in reverse for my dating preference...blacker the berry the sweeter the juice).  And...I don't 'do' kids.  And when we met...that was cool..because he didn't have any kids...and said he didn't want any either...until...that phone call from a girl from his hometown...happened...

My most recent experience with worrying about a man to whom I'm attracted has brought to mind so many discussions I've had with women who are facing a similar issue, and even the women with whom I've discussed dating who are wanting to date while being a single parent.  The topic of dating single parents shows up on my TL bi-weekly...in my DMs every few days...and seemingly in my facebook or text inbox almost daily.  It inspires some thoughts...

I understand things happen...people have children...and I've been conditioned to believe that as a woman of color at my age, dating black men especially, it would be hugely impractical to think I'm going to meet someone who doesn't have kid(S)...at least 2...and that's cool...I get it...I won't change my standards based on what OTHER people accept...and then...he shows up in my life.

My issue with dating men with children comes from my own childhood.  My father had multiple women who came into my life, and when their relationship with my dad ended, so, it seems, did their relationship with me.  That can be highly impacting on a young woman...as it definitely was for me.  It matters not that decades later I found out it was my father who prevented them from being in my life, and not a lack of desire on their part...it has still proven to add to my apprehension of having even female friends in the present.  I saw it as these women had to have just been completely disingenuous in their feelings toward me.

I vowed to never be one of those women.  I have dated men with children, but I expressed early on that I would not want to meet their family until we were both sure that the relationship was headed toward 'permanent.'  I would never allow my god-children around a man who was not "permanent" either.  I would hate to have some child expect me to be around...and have that be blocked by their parent appeasing either their mother, or another woman in his life. 

Yet here I am.  Dating is hard enough for someone like me (I travel constantly for my job, have trust and commitment issues, and I'm COMPLETELY shallow...but...my hearts in a good place) with having to figure out if I really like dude...or do I just like how absolutely beautiful his abs are (he DOESN'T HAVE TO FLEX FOR THEM TO BE ALL BEAUTIFUL AND ROCK HARD) and now on top of that I'm faced with a losing/losing/utterly losing situation.  If it 'works' I'm faced with being in the life of a man with an infant...and...a baby mother...I could be missing out on a good thing if I let this go...or...I don't even want to think about it...

Sometimes...I wish I didn't have the answers...that I could exist a little longer floating on a dream before the truth came to burst my bubble months or years later...at least I could have some fun first...*sighs*

Love Advice Lies: "Whoever cares the least..."

The statement that "whoever cares the least in the relationship has the power" is a fucking lie.  Yes...it is also a lie that I have told to other women when giving them advice...and one to which I can admit and continue to maintain that I am honest...especially with my advice and in my writing...THIS IS AN EXERCISE IN PEDAGOGY.  I know what I'm about to say is going to seem really ironic (since...I'm writing a book for this shit) but NO ONE SHOULD HAVE TO READ A BOOK OR A BLOG TO LEARN HOW TO LIVE THEIR LIFE.  I give a lot of advice on the topic of love, and dating...and I try to explain these topics in such a way that the lesson will be learned, hopefully adopted into my mentee's consistent practice, and therefore becomes a behavior versus an act...but I see that people (especially women) who obviously don't "get it" so LOVE to give the advice using banalities without having the "meat" of the message behind the cliche...and THIS...is a problem-causing issue in and of, itself. 

The real message is "IF YOU LOVE AND RESPECT YOURSELF, AND MAINTAIN YOUR OWN HAPPINESS AS A PRIORITY, YOUR PARTNER WILL RECOGNIZE THAT AND DO THE SAME, OR THEY WILL NOT BE IN YOUR LIFE," but that has no chance of fitting in 140 characters or less. 

I can't tell y'all that though...because it's not enough.  That little statement up there...is really my ENTIRE book...all 12-18 chapters...thats really all I'm saying...but...the type of people who go out and spend $14.95 on a paperback from the relationship section of Barnes and Noble don't want to just read that...they want people like me to spend 15 pages on fake orgasms, and 27 pages on how to know if he's mad and at least 50 pages on how to get over an ex...

So...here's the meat:

1. If the person in your life really doesn't care about your thoughts and your feelings...ACTING like you don't care will NOT make them care. 

2.  The pursuer in the relationship (male OR female) is starting from a place of desire...not a place of disadvantage.

3.  Courtship is the period of time which results in both parties coming to a similar, if not equal, place of desire for each other.  The best situation, and usually the most successful of relationships come from both people caring the same, even if in different ways.  

All advice must be personalized for the person who is receiving it.   The type of people I tell to try to "care the least" are the type of people who really don't spend enough time looking at the other person through the filter of "Do I really like you? Do you have the qualities I appreciate and desire in a partner? Can you handle the responsibilities of life with me?"  These are the people who get so excited about having someone like them, that they don't take a breather to see if they like the other person too. 

It takes time to really get to know someone...and trying not to care SO QUICKLY lets you see the other party through eyes that are not influenced by internally placing THEM on this pedestal.  The issue that we find from not taking the time to court THE PERSON over THE REPRESENTATIVE is found when you find that YOU taking THEIR fall from that pedestal harder than the fall was for them. 

Coming Off The Bench: Valentine’s Day Edition 1.1

So the word on the street is...the Side Bitch ain't gettin' NO LOVE on Valentine's Day. Men are even feeding into that lie...Oh, "my side bitches get NO CONTACT on VALENTINE'S DAY WHATSOEVER" and "IF I get her ANYTHING, it will be like, some flowers sent to her JOB or something" or "I'll give it to her the day before or after"...February 14th is THE PREMIER MAIN CHICK HOLIDAY in America. Oh, I saw the tweets yesterday and this morning..."Happy Side Chick Day" for February 13...and those #Youasidechick tweets. Here's the thing…I've been the Side Chick...and those tweets don't offend me...because I KNOW the REAL DEAL. When I read those messages, I don't see jabs in my direction...instead...I see a hurt female lashing out because she's feeling the not-so-pretty symptoms of Woman on the Side syndrome...only difference is if you are a primary, secondary, or tertiary sufferer.

"Hurt Bitches" out here in the social networking sphere are having difficulty accepting the truths that are being revealed by February 14th. Some are finally having to face that they do not have a Boyfriend, though they have been playing the part of The Girlfriend for the past few months. I don't understand your specific circumstances (if you want to fill me in and get some questions answered, you can hit me up at makingsexsense@gmail.com) but I have heard it's easier getting the truth from a stranger...and...if you are out in the world and don't know what’s going on? I'm certain...you don't know me...

Depending on your age bracket, you've been listening to people telling you the tell-tale signs of being the Side Chick/Jump-off/whatever you call it...but THIS day, above the other 364 (this year 365) days will really shine a light on your double lives. There is some poor heaux out there who knows that the man in her life has a main chick, but she over-estimated her value in his life. And there is DEFINITELY a Main Chick out there who was sure that he was going to be home...with her...even though they just argued last night because she just knew he was going out for Happy Side Chick Day. And there is a female out there who thought because she was having sex with a dude, that she was more than just a piece of Ass (she ain't get SHIT though).

It has always been my experience that when a man cares, and knows you care about Valentine's Day...you WAKE UP to your gifts. I understand there are men out in the world who are unable to deliver on February 14th due to time constraints, or maybe their job...but if he can get to you on the day of the holiday, HE WILL. Point... blank...PERIOD. If you got your gift the day before, and haven't heard from him since, he is not EXPECTING to give you time on VDay. He knows EXACTLY what today is...and it's not like it's a personal holiday so he can easily forget...unless you've shot him that bullshit before that you don't care about holidays (MEN LISTEN TO WHAT YOU SAY...NOT WHAT YOU MEAN...SO IF YOU'VE EVER TOLD HIM THAT LIE, YOU CAN'T BE MAD WHEN HE FOLLOWS WHAT YOU SAID).

The bottom line is this: There IS a reason a Main Chick is the main woman in a man's life...there is some commitment, some responsibility that he must respect, so it is TRUE that SHE determines how this day goes. BUT...and a BIG BUT: If the girlfriend/wife/whatever leaves ANY OPPORTUNITY for him to slide out to spend some time with the women on the side...HE IS GOING TO USE IT. The fact that a man has to determine what gift to get the chick on the side...speaks to the real truth: SHE MEANS SOMETHING TO HIM. I'm not saying that a man is going to do ANYTHING out of the way just for a chick he sticks his dick in every now and then...THAT BITCH probably is NOT getting love on Valentine's Day...but that Side Chick? TRUST AND BELIEVE...that chick is DEFINITELY getting some attention...she has a position in his life as well...and he wants to keep her. She may be AWARE of the relationship he has with the Main, but I promise you HE'S not the one keeping himself honest. If there is ANY CHANCE that he can tell her he's not with his Old Lady, or things are NOT going well at home...he's telling her. He's SHOWING her that he cares. Her gift...is probably very similar to the one the Main Chick is getting...He spent at least the morning with her...and Don't Let the Main Chick be working tonight...because he'll be back with the Side as soon as he can.

I'm not going to shoot some shit to y'all about "Signs you're the Side on Valentine's Day" because...I hope it’s obvious enough...just try to occupy his time today...and you'll get your proof. BUT...look at the bright side...Today will also let you know if it is a waste to go out and find that choice piece of beef for Steak and BJ Day (March 14th). You know ONE dude that will not have you cooking dinner for him and will not get any of YOUR MOUTH LOVE...(even though...he probably has other options for that anyway...) I'm just saying.

LOVE YOURSELF...KNOW YOURSELF...and PLEASE DON'T SEND ANY GIFTS TO YOURSELF at your job...because that is pathetic as fuck. *SMOOCHES*

Ghosts of Valentine’s Past

We spent the night in one of my favorite hotels (The Adam's Mark in Denver, Colorado), and when I finally completely opened my eyes, the first sight with which I was greeted were white tulips and yellow roses (my favorites) which sat above the bags I knew contained my gifts. Room Service had just left, and a breakfast spread had been provided with attention to the finest details of my prefered tastes, as he feigned sleep next to me. This is how I woke up on Valentine's Day (in a year I won't disclose)...with not one thought about how his woman felt waking up at their home...in bed...alone. We spent the night before with his friends in the club, and their girlfriends. Their wives were at home with the children, or at work, or to wherever else they went to never interlope on my good time or linger on my mind.

Her gift had been delivered via a courier service, coupled with a quickly hand-scribbled note that suredly included some disdain for his having to work so far from home and missing her...and how he was so lucky to have a girlfriend who was so understanding about his career...probably insinuating that one day she'd be his wife. I never put much thought into whether that warmed her heart...maybe because I never had to think past the fact that he was warming my bed.

Across America there are women waking up to a Pink Christmas in February, text messages...and quite possibly...nothing at all. This year, I woke up to kisses from a toddler and the sound of one of the most important men in my life (my godson, who just happens to be 7) getting dressed for school. This is my first Valentine's Day since my retirement...from being a Side Chick.

I've always known that I was the woman on the side. Its not hard at all...even if you don't pay much attention. Some women (and even men) just would rather not see the truth. I have never really understood how people could really not know what was going on right in front of them, and all around them...but...I just blame it on being caught up in their feelings. Truthfully, I prefer to NOT be the "Main Chick" in a man's life...that gives no room to fuck up...and...I fuck up. I was really good at playing my role...maintaining my position, and reaping the benefits of such. For me, being the "Other Woman" meant I was the one who went on trips, had fun, hung out with the homeboys, and didn't have to deal with his attitude...it was his wife/girlfriend/fiancee’s job to deal with his non-fun persona (As far as I know, I have never been with a married man). I’m the one for whom he is willing to make her sad...she just shared his house.