Anti- Broke N****s

        I'm tough to deal with. I live in some sort of fairytale that turns most people away. & the fairytale I dream of every night opens with a hallway full of mirrors and chandeliers. My dreams, though, turn to nightmares soon as I wake: Ceiling bare and walls too close for my taste. Not enough windows. Not enough air. Not enough space. I'm happier when I'm asleep. & in this terrifying nightmare of a reality, my dream home belongs to someone else. That should be mine, I think upon waking. And from there I go. From there it happens. All of my thoughts are punctuated with dollar signs. I construct mental blueprints. Plots. The possibilities change. There are deviations. I brainstorm. But the end goal is always the same. I want the money. Cold. Hard. Cash. Fuck what you heard.

She Got it Made: The Gangsta's Wife.

Hold a Goodfella down; "Karen Hill" bitches. -Fabolous, Bitches.

  

        "So what are your plans? What do you want to do? I mean... do you just want to get married, have kids and have a man take care of you?" my roommate asked. "I mean... Eventually," I responded. I figure... its okay for me to want kids, right? For me to want to get married, right? So why can't I also want to be taken care of?  It'd be nice. I think everyone --male or female--would like to be taken care of if the situation allows. To not have to work anymore. It's the Hollywood dream, I think. 

        I love Goodfellas. For a multitude of reasons. Everytime I watch this movie, I watch it from a different point of view. First, there's Henry's story. But if you pay attention, for a big portion of the time, Karen Hill is also narrating. I mean... the story is as much hers as it is his. When I heard Fabolous's lyric above, I had to throw in the DVD and watch the movie again. I mean, it's true. Through it all, Karen stayed by Henry's side. Through the lying, cheating... and his prison sentence, which meant her poverty. We only get a half-view of what Karen went through. 

      You see, Karen was a good girl from the suburbs. Raised by protective mother with strong religious values. But not matter how "good" she was, when Henry Hill tried to stand her up, she drove right over to where he was and put her in her place. She was submissive yet firm all at the same time -- a balance I'm sure is difficult to achieve. You see, Karen tripped about Janice Rossi sleeping with her husband: She hit the intercom buttons for all the apartment's in Janice's building and yelled "You have a whore living in 2R. Rossi. Janice Rossi. He's MY husband. Get Your own God-damed man!" Karen really didn't play.

   She didn't leave him though. "Why should I give him up? Why should she win?" she narrates before the scene change where she's aiming a gun at Henry while he's still asleep. You see, Karen was a good woman... but Henry was a good man. There's a scene where they're both getting dressed. Unfortunately  this video only show's Henry's closet, but if you watch the movie, you can see that her's is just as stacked. [Beading & fur, baby... Beading & fur.] Then he drops her [*This much*] for the day so she can go shopping. If I had a man who could do that for me, I'd be on my Karen Hill game ASAP. 

      Problem is, most men out there want a woman who can stand by their side, when they have nothing to offer. Any woman with a brain wouldn't stand by that. I'm not saying a woman needs the world... but a little piece of it would be nice. A little property. Something. Men can't expect women to be on their Karen hill if they not on their Henry, forreal. It simply makes no sense. Same goes for Mia in Pulp Fiction who could have any man she wants. Yet, she doesn't jeaopordize that on her night out with Vincent because her man, Marsellus Wallace, gives her everything she could possibly want. You can't get everything you want if you don't give everything your partner wants. Like Miss Keri, baby, says "was looking for a man to hold me down. How I end up with you?" 

       Money matters. I'm just not sure neither Henry nor Marsellus would have landed the women they had without a couple of $$ to their names. & I don't think that Mia nor Karen are wrong for this. Sometimes, behind the scenes, a woman is the best asset a man has. I'm talking real life. Like Beckham with Victoria. I'm not sure how much she was making without him, but he allowed her the opportunity to start up the VB line which is sure to expand and make [sorry for the ghetto but] maddddd money in the future & she plans to hand the company down to her son Romeo. That's how you play it. You can't just "live off" a man... you have to take the opportunities that come through him and make it on your own. Truth be told, if I got me a rich boo ready to hand me some money... I'd pay these student loans off. First order of business. lol. 

      It's a new day, though. & Men aren't making enough money for two. But I still have hope. lol... I just think that today [in my circles] men and women are more equal than anything else. But someone has to be willing to sacrifice somewhere. "You gotta have a certain amount of money to do certain shit.," told my roommate. Like... when you have Kobe money... you're allowed to cheat. I'm just saying. A broke man has no say in this world. He has no privileges and deems no sympathy. I think this is because a man with money gets more attention than he actually deserves. So if your man has money... there are women out there who will be attracted to him just because of that. So.. he can deserves a bit of sympathy. In Goodfellas, we see the girlfriends Henry has, and really... we don't hold it against him. Except for Janice Rossi... cuz she just wanted the money. 

     If you get old and boring, you also have to allow more sympathy. Henry's girlfriend, Sandy, on the other hand, was... hot. She did Henry where he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted. Wives don't typically do that... So if you're not going to give a man everything he needs, you gotta expect him to fail you, too. [See? I'm all about equality.] 

     So yup. Karen Hill had it made. But Henry Hill was makin it. 

        

If I Were a Golddigger...

    I ain't saying she a golddigger. But she ain't messing with no broke/broke... 

- Kanye West, "Golddigger"

  Look. Say what you want about me. I've judged myself enough to know the persona I've put forth. For a while now, I've walked the thin line between high-maintance and unaffordable from time to time stumbling into one or another. But I will say it once more incase you don't believe me: I'm not a golddigger. 

     Today is the first day I even believe that. There's this man (I say "man" because dude is... mature) who lives in my sister's building. Now to live in in my sister's building, you must own. There are no renters here. The 1-bedrooms start at a cool $315,000. Then there's maintenance fees. With that said (throwing in the fact that he's single) this could make him a possibly very beneficial asset in my phone.  

     Here's the kicker: He's ugly. Like... not Quasimoto ugly... but he looks his age. He's got to be... late 30s. And he's not fly. So unfly even, that he was walking in front of me (I didn't know it was him)  I had thought to myself, I hate guys who wear long jackets when they're not tall enough. Just so happened it was this man. Today, I happened to get on an earlier shuttle, and his missed his earlier one. Low & behold, I turned around, and there he was. On the PATH. Standing beside me. For the past couple of weeks, I've been dodging all the brothas in my sister's building afraid that it might be him. Today, I let my guard down and he came in for the attack. 

      He had asked my sister about me a while ago. Mentioning that he had met met, he asked if I had mentioned him at all. "Why the fuck would she talk about you?" my sister mocked him, as she told me about their encounter. "He's old," I said --cringing like the little girl I am. "He looks like he has money," my sister told me. Apparently dude works in finance for some company on 50th. Unfortunately only 10 blocks from me leading him to suggest that we get lunch sometime. WTF was I supposed to do? So I abided the tip I gave you all in "The Staring Game": Just give the guy your number. No one said you HAVE to pick up his calls. Ok. So now I have time to think about what I want to do. I usually walk from 34th to 40th, but since I got my Unlimited MTA yesterday (whoop whoopp!) I decided to join him for the N-Q-R commute to 42nd. 

      As I walked beside him, I thought to myself, What the fuck am I doing?  I'm not interested in this guy but with the lack of entertainment I have at the moment, I figured I'd... see? We had okay conversation on the PATH. Talked about... books. So I know that he's an educated man. He slipped in details of his travels (Spain & Mexico) which shows me that he's a man who's lived life (like I said I wanted in "Generation Disney") so why am I so hesitant to pursue something with him. Am I that shallow? Can I not see past his exterior and am I judging him based solely on the outside --something which shouldn't weigh so heavily?

    Thing is, I've made exceptions before and I can't do that again.  No matter how much money this man has... his money isn't going to make me fall in love with him. It's not going to buy my faith, my trust, or my heart. It might though, buy my time. I mean... time = money right? I have plenty time & I'll make a fair exchange. But I'm not sure I can bring myself to do it. Today I tried to look him in the face and continue conversation but 'm really just not attracted to him. My glances away might have come off to him as my being shy but in reality... he doesn't know. He's become quite the joke in my household, and as I talked to my mom about him it came down to this revelation: He doesn't know, Mami, I explained. Que yo lo abuso. I'll abuse him. Thing is... he looks like a jewelry man. I mean he has the money for it. Christmas is coming up. & if he gets me anything, I know that me, my mom & my sister will have the time of our lives laughing it up. 

     I get the vibe from him that, knowing that I'm young, he might think I'm impressed by him. That I might be lured in. That I can be bought. But he's got me confused. & this only makes me want to abuse him. Additionally, allowing him to "court" me would be something different than what I'm used to. Just now I got a Facebook Instant Message that reads "PUNK". I'm so tired of it. Tired of this little boys with disrespectful game that I'm supposed to be attracted to. What woman likes to be called "punk"? 

     I talk a lot about wanting to be treated like a woman, yet I keep falling for these boys. Maybe I should start dating men... but they look soooo oooollldd :(  Maybe this guy is what I need for now. Not for love, but for entertainment. Like... in a Holly Golightly, Breakfast at Tiffany's,  type of way. You know...  $50 for the powder room? Any real gentleman would ;) I mean, it'd be perfect. He'd take me out. He'd pay. & He wouldn't be able to ask for a thing in return. Whole time, I can play the shy young girl role and just... sit pretty. Sounds like a plan to me. At least until I meet my own Paul Varjak :) Until then... I'll go home to my pretty clothes and my cat (or a dog, more likely), put in my ear plugs and lock my phone in a suitcase so that no one can interrupt the perfection of my world --except for a pretty boy with a kind heart. 

      Come to think of it... maybe I'm like... a freelance Golddigger. I mean, I don't do it full-time or nothin. lol.

You Gotta Pay to Play.

 Standing on my monopoly board. That means I'm on top of my game. Eminem, "No Love"

       "You only think this food is good because it's expensive," he said from across the table. He was half upset that I picked this place out for our Valentine's day dinner. I'd made it a point to get a good dinner out of him since he was so bent on being cheap. When I was with him I pretty much had to "save up" my points and prove I deserved to be taken out to dinner. Special occasions and holidays. He was more like a stingy parent than a boyfriend.

       So I decided that if he was going to act like a parent, I was going to treat him like one. You know how you buy the affordable stuff for yourself, but you ask your parents for the things you can't afford? Especially while you're in college. Normal college kids don't go out to eat or eat a full, nutritional meal until your parents come to visit for Parent's Day Weekend. If you're not familiar with Parent's Day Weekend, it's like Thanksgiving in college --food and family-- except you don't have to go home. If you're a female, you have a second source for meals: Men. I made us reservations at Mama's on the Half Shell. They don't have a website, but if you click that link, you'll see that this place is top rated. I mean, top 10 at times because the food is that good.  It's really not that expensive though. I mean... my meal always is because I'm the type of girl who orders a steak, medium well with lobster tail on top. Plus an appetizer. And a drink. And a juice. And a desert. And the place isn't fancy. There's a hardcore bar with flat screens that play nothing but  ESPN  and art littering the wall. No need to dress up for this place.  But the food really is good. They have these potatoes skins with lump crab and cheese on top. If you can have these on the regular, you don't need sex. Honestly.

         In New York City, price matters more than anything else. You really do get what you pay for even if the prices are outrageous. IT's just that, here, "cheap" has a different definition than it does anywhere else. The first way you learn this fact about The Big Apple is when you take on the task of looking for places. Simply put, THE RENT IS TOO DAMNED HIGH. You have to be blessed to find a studio in the city for under $1000. Those who know me, know I'm fond of the word "thousand", but I'm not quite prepared to pay that in rent. For $1180 a month (heat, hot water & electric included) I can get this view:

       Now isn't that worth it? It's not the greatest angle... and that's not my real apartment so, feel free to judge. But I'm not from here. They say flashing lights ain't for everybody... but they're for somebody. I'm not going to lie, I'm just excited to be here. In this city. Where I can listing to Hot 97 at any given moment and the subway (as dirty as it might be) will take me anywhere my heart desires. Sometimes, it feels like I'm bragging about it but... it's only because already feel like "Mama, I made it." I'm not going to get a head of my self, and believe me, this place isn't anything fancy and I'm certainly not a baller. It's in Harlem. 145th & Lenox. Not the greatest area. But there's something about moving to New York that seems like the beginning of a really good movie (I wonder which one...wink wink!).

      Thing is, where I'm from, nobody leaves. I remember I was in the 8th grade and had just been accepted to Moses Brown School --the best worst thing that ever happened to me. I was sitting in Geography/History class (you know a school system is broken when you have to combine courses) when this lady (she was an aid for the handicapped kid in our class) asked me why I was going to Moses Brown instead of Central Falls High School. "I went there," she said. All one really needs to do it click those links to see why I'd chose a leading private school over a failing public school to see why. When she asked me why though all that went through my mind was, "I don't want to be like you." Let me just say there are some Central Falls High graduates who are doing/will do much better than I am. But there are a small selection. My own sister is one of those people. But it takes a certain type of personal and relentless vigor to push yourself through a system like that and I'm sure the select few will agree with that. I didn't have that in me. I couldn't push the school. I needed my school to push me.

      My education has made me more valuable. Technically, I've been paying college tuition for the past 8 years.  I've cost $27,000 a year from 2002-2006 and $38,000 (plus $9,600 room & board) from 2006-2010.  I mean, I'm worth $298,400 at least. I just had lunch with my cousin and as I replayed all the things I was saying to myself... I sound like a pure bred gold-digger. But are Louis Vuitton pumps golddiggers? I mean, this LV wedge boot won't quit staring at me and saying $1,230. I don't do that. Or do I? Well I don't huff and puff at the price tags on certain things because I know that the quality of the product will be better. The better a product is made, the more the company has to charge you in order to cover costs. The more they charge you, the better the product because, now, the customer has a right to complain. Listen, I'll be god-damned the leather starts to peel on some LV pumps & don't let them hurt my little toe.  

      I'm worth the expense, too. There's been a lot of time and money put into this product (Ahem! ME!). For all the work I've been into myself, companies will get a solid worker with experience and capability. Likewise a man will at least get a highly educated woman who is doing well for herself. At least he won't have to take care of me (unless he wants to). But the same way you need to get your shoes shined and you purse cleaned everyone once in a while. Or how a car needs a tune up and a wax job. I'm also in need of maintenance. I at least need my hair and nails did. I think man should be willing to do that. I tried to get my ex (same dude mentioned above) to kick in for the hair expenses. "If you look like this, I'll pay for you to get your hair done every month," he said with fingers in my hair. I had just gotten my hair blow out by (the very rare) Dominicans in Baltimore. I won't front, he kicked in to get my hair done after that... ONCE. What happens when you stop getting your oil changed? When you stop shining those shoes? When you don't rotate the tires? When you keep your purse on the floor? You ruin the product. You didn't maintain. Your car blows up. Your purse falls apart. Your girl leaves you. 

      "You gotta just do you," my cousin said to me today. "Man, I'm trying marry me a Giants player," I responded. I alway pick the local team to make my gold-diggeing seem a little more feasible. In Baltimore I wanted a Raven, while in Rhode Island I just wanted to leave the state because we have real no team of our own.) But I'm not focused on men. I assured my cousin of that as I tried to assure myself. I'll admit, I get lonely in this big city. And I really just want someone to take me out to see the flashing lights. Have you ever watched fireworks alone? I have. There's nothing more solitary in the world. There's not a single action that can make you realize how alone you are more than to watch explosions in the sky when your heart is barely beating. 

      You might all read these posts and think I'm cold hearted. Part of me is. Like I said today, I have no remorse. I will spend ALL of a man's money if he lets me. Because his heart and his money shouldn't be the same thing. The this is with "Him" is that he allows me to play with his money but somehow doesn't let me play him. I like that. Because money is nothing and everything all in the same breath. If a man won't share his money, will he share his heart? And how much of his heart is on the table if he can't even put up the starting bid? 

      I'm looking for high-rollers, baby. Men who understand the stakes and know that bets at this table are approaching commas. No one holding a winning hand should be afraid to go all in. I don't barter with bluffers. That's why I've raised the stakes and uped the ante. He's got to either call or raise. But I always raise. Either a man has enough chips to bet. Or he doesn't. There is no in between.  If a man is unwilling to put up and invest, you might want to rethink being his partner. He might have a losing  hand. 

We all play games. My game is just better. 

    

Celibate and the City

      Bitches give up the ass. Sistas give up the ass. Sistas do it slow. Bitches do it fast. Jay-Z - Bitches & Sisters

    
       


        He doesn't want to hold me back, he says. I should live my life. & since I'm moving to a new place, there's no doubt I'll meet more people. I'll want to go out with friends.

I don't have friends. 
You'll meet someone else. 
But I met you. 
You know... there ain't many guys like me. 
You saying you're what I need?
I mean, yea... If not now.. then eventually.

      There's a difference between a man who likes you and a man who wants you. This fool thought he was gamin' me. I'm not gonna lie though. I like the way he talks. But what he hasn't quite grasped yet is that the ball is in my court. In all honesty, the ball is always in a woman's possession. You have to play the game as you would any other. Planned out, careful and with technique. He's in for it. 

Ladies. Take notes. I'll give you a second to get your pencils out. 

      The most important technique is Pacing. Pace the relationship. There was an exchange I wrote about in my last post, "Sex Craved Nice Guy," where this guy told me he only spoils 'girlfriends'. In turn, I told him that I only sleep with my 'boyfriends'.  He kept making dirty jokes and telling me what he could do... and then I asked, "Do you think you're getting this?" He responded by saying, "Nah, I know you ain't doing nothing for another 6-7months." Nice. I'm officially on 'Good Girl' pacing. He thinks he has to prove to me that he deserves it (which he does) when in reality... I'm not saving it for marriage. I'm saving it for carriage. I'm tryina see how far he will go. How much he will spend. But.. you already know, most guys say "Zip-Zero" and try to be stingy with dinero. But... if you work it right... he might light your wrist. Don't stop at this. He might wife you and buy you nice whips. All this just to find out  if you ride nice....  So take it slow. This way you earn his respect by making him earn whatever it is he gets.

        Manage your time with holidays as milestones. I don't really like.... like like this guy... but he likes me. & I have nothing better to do. On top of that, it's almost Christmas. I only see him once a week. I count there are about 8 weeks till Christmas. Which means, I should see him at most 8 times. Then there can be one week when "I really can't make it" and he won't want to act all needy, so I'm down to 7 times. I just have to force myself to bear for 7 weeks. If this seven weeks goes easily... I might be able to bear for another 7 weeks (Valentine's day) and maybe even another (My Birthday)! 

      Technique #2: Fake left; go right. Give them a taste, but not too much. I want him to spend, so I spend a little. I paid for our coffee at Starbucks... he's paying for everything else. He offered to pay for my Chloe perfume (and everyday, I regret saying no) but since then I've been window shopping at the stores we usually pass by. Because when I meet him on Friday, I'll say "OMG, I so want these!!" and they'll probably be cheaper than the perfume was so he should be willing to cough it up. (I'll let y'all know how that goes!) Needless to say, the next time he offers to swipe his card --the one in his wallet he pointed to and said "this one is just for you," --he will be signing the receipt. If you want a man to spend on you, let him know that you spend money on yourself. There's nothing worse to a man than a woman who wants to live off of him. The term "golddigger" to men is like "boogie-monster" to 3 year olds. And so, let him know that you don't need him... but if he wants you.. he needs to spend some change. 

        For a man to wait on pleasure has to feel like he's only one step away from hittin' it. For example, the other night, after a nice dinner, he took me to a part of Jersey City where you can see the New York skyline across the water/river/whatever.... it was gorgeous. I had had a Patron margarita and a glass of Riesling and was super relaxed.. but not drunk -- a Lady never gets drunk at dinner, but does take advantage of not having to drive. I guess, he felt that I was a little... done-zo as I started asking him questions about the last time he had a girl spend the night. Now I'm going to be honest with you all, I don't know if I wanted to go home with him. In reality... I just wanted to be held. When you leave a relationship... the hardest part to adjust to is sleeping by yourself. I would have used him for the body heat. But I'm adult enough to keep my clothes on (the first night I spend with a guy, I tend to keep ALL my clothes on.. like... my street clothes. lol) He said it wasn't a good idea (I applauded him for being a gentlemen) so I pushed the idea even more. I pushed because I knew he already said no. And if he changed his mind to 'yes' I would have changed my mind to 'no'. 

     Yes, I was playing games but... I had carefully laid it all out. We were in Jersey. It would have taken him 45 minute to get to his house, and he would have had to drop me off the next day. Not even I wouldn't have wanted to drop me off the next day. If I did spend the night, I would have woken up at 6:30am and took my ass to the subway before he woke up. I love to leave before a man wakes up. It makes him feel used :)  & they don't get to see you as the Morning mess you are. I knew there was a slim chance of me spending the night with him... but since I asked, he feels like there is at least a slim chance. He thinks the ball is in his court. I won't be asking to stay the night again. He'll feel like it was a missed opportunity that he'll continuously try harder to get to again.

    This is the way things go: I try to get him to spend money on me, he tries to get me to sleep with him. We're both working towards something. Call me what you want... but I don't need sexual pleasure the way he does. My love for shoes is much stronger than my love for penetration. Shoes make me feel better for longer anyways. 

       My advice? Don't give it up so easily. If this guy really is as great as he professes, I'll find out after the  6-7 month trial... or longer. You should never feel forced to sleep with man because he has imposed a time-frame. My body is not for sale. It has no price. But if you're going to put a price tag on it,  it won't be a clearance sticker. Have more respect for yourself. I don't know about you, ladies. But Ella's "yea" cost more than an order of Applebee's wings and potato skins. I'm just sayin. If/When he does me wrong, at least he can't say he had that part of me.... but I can at least get some shoes out of him :) 

       My time of "self-imposed celibacy" as Elizabeth Gilbert calls hers in Eat, Pray, Love has to do with more than just men. Sometimes, we give our bodies up so easily and quickly, we lose focus of ourselves and our worth. I'm not just playing this one guy. It has nothing to do with him.... because I'm not sleeping with anyone. So if I'm even going to consider making that move with him... or if he'd like to take on this challenge... he has to put up some serious change on the table. I'm only playing with high-rollers. Chump change won't cut it anymore. Because all men are the same. If I'm going to be controlled, lied to and cheated on... at least let me get something out the deal. If you've never been with a broke man... try it out and see how fed up you'll be. Then you'll understand where my head is at. I've followed my heart way too many times. 

Now, it's time for me and my wardrobe to upgrade. 

Sorry, Suckers.