Lately...

Okay, so I know my blog isn't as popular as some others. It's not my goal to be the most popular blogger on the internet. However, I do find it surprising so many people read my blog, but don't comment. It's like tasting the food, and NOT complimenting or complaining to the chef. Sigh.

So, I've always been the person that people around me have gone to for relationship advice. Maybe it's because my own relationship history has been colored with different types of people from different backgrounds, or that I can relate to people all across the board. It baffles me that I can give advice to others but cannot take it myself. So, I complained to the one person that I know 'gets' me...my mom. She, in turn, told me the one thing that I needed to hear. "Before you make the journey to finding someone, you need to make sure that you have found yourself. Have you done that?" I had to come to the realization that I hadn't. Not in the sense that I was going for what I wanted, but more so what people wanted me to want. I went after guys who looked like, acted like and seemed to be the kinds of men that made me look good, that my friends could desire for themselves (not my guy specifically, but a guy LIKE mine), but not what I wanted. However, that is no longer the case.

I'm going to take my own advice and look outside my box. Forget the previous 'standards' and find someone who takes my breath away. Truly, madly and deeply. Meanwhile, I'll keep posting my tips on dating, sex and relationships. Someone should be able to use them! LOL...

Much love

(GO OBAMA!)

It's Been a Long Time

Hello-

I haven't posted in a while, and thats kind of my bad. I had a serious nightmare with Apple Tech Support, also known as "AppleCare". I took it to the Apple Store on Michigan Avenue because the lid was seriously warped. I didn't take a picture of it like some people have, but I did not ever drop, knock or even scratch up this thing. After being told that the service was my fault due to some "damage on my part", I was told the repair would cost 646.89 to fix, and that I'd lost my AppleCare Extended Service Plan. So...I take my "defective" computer and go home. After calling AppleCare on the phone, they tell me that they are going to send me a box, and I'd send my computer to them in it, and they'd fix it...no problem, since this defect has been an issue. I get the box, wait for my semester to end, and I send them my lovely MacBook Pro. Somehow, they lost my laptop, TWICE, and after me cussing them out, and getting nowhere, I finally was able to find my computer...and it was in TEXAS. Now, I'm not shocked it was in Texas, even though it was supposed to be in Cleveland...but I am shocked with they start telling me the same mess that I was told at the Apple Store, that I am going to have to pay for the repair. I yell some more, and presto, I get my laptop fixed, for free. I was thanking my parents for their DNA...

My dad's also doing better. He just got on a new medication called Aricept, designed to slow down if not eradicate his symptoms so that he's more himself. If you didn't know, my father is suffering from Alzheimer's disease. The Aricept seems to allow him to have more 'good' days than bad, and he seems to be able to recall more information...even if it takes him a minute. I'm not hoping for a miracle cure, I know that Aricept does not stop the disease, but since he is in the beginning stages, I hope that it can at least lengthen the time it takes for the disease to totally dominate him. He also managed to become klutzy, this time tripping on the front steps and banging up his knee. My daddy was always a graceful man in his youth, it seems that his age is finally catching up to him. 

My grades came in, and I was surprised that I'd been able to stay the course, finishing out with a 3.0, doing the damn thing, and this next semester will be even better. Anyway, its late...gotta roll onto the Land of Nod.

Deuces!

Knock the Bullish Out

Hey

So, I got sick. Yeah, ordinarily, it's not a big deal, but I find myself sick and bored out of my mind. I'm not only stuck in the house, I've got nothing but old books, older movies and my silly ol' cat to keep me company. As a result, I have had a fair amount of time to think about things going on in my life. And I've decided I don't like the path of which most of the stuff is going...so that means, in simple words, it's time to Knock Out the Bullshit.

What does that mean exactly? Every year, usually around the first of the year, many people all over the world begin to put their lame-as "resolutions" into effect. Yours truly always resolves to cut the fat, eliminate people and relationships that are not good for me, because they simply suck in terms of my mental, physical and spiritual growth and health. However, I, like many people, suffer from a thing called "having good intentions but no real follow through". Simply speaking, I cannot actually take the steps required in order to make this plan a reality. Well, not this year. Why is this year different...you ask? Well, let's rehash.

In 2007, I had a record year of lows. I was broke (and I mean broke...like digging in the couch cushions for loose change to only remember you'd done that a few days before), fired for the first time, found out my dad had Alzheimer's and dementia, celebrated 15 years of losing someone very close to me, almost died twice, found out one of my best friends bout with cancer was eventually going to kill him, lost an uncle, a great-aunt, along with being dumped, rejected and brokenhearted. It was a rough year. In many ways, though, its full circle because I started last year off not feeling so well, and I start this year off sick. I hope this is not going to be a tradition, because it is a SUCKY one. ha.

So, I am more determined than ever to "knock the bullshit" out of my life and far far away from me. Things are going to be on my terms, I'm not going to try to please anyone but myself. The goal is to do well in school, study for the GMAT and LSAT, and maybe, just MAYBE find some sense of happiness. I'd settle for being content though, because happiness is overrated and short-lived. So, if you hear from me, hold your breath, because I may be telling you it is the last time we will talk. If you don't, well, you get the message.

Romancing the Sex

Hey all,

I'm not sure where I've been the last few days, weeks, months, years...but I was suddenly introduced to the idea of sex being a huge deal. I guess I always knew of people who believed it to be a massive thing, some sort of entity that they carry around with them, this idea of "massive sex". However, I do not share that philosophy. Not that I'm some random whore of a woman who sleeps with anyone I come into contact with, I just do not feel that sex can be held up to that high of an ideal. Because, like most ideal concepts, if they are held too high, they eventually shatter. Herein develops the theory of "real bad sex". I have had enough experience in the world to know that the longer you feign for something, desire it, dream of it, when 'it' happens...well, 'it' may not live up to the expectations you had. Like a good slice of New York pizza or chocolate ice cream when thought of too long, sex can become uninteresting, unimaginative and distasteful. 

So, imagine my surprise when I happened to come across an individual who feels sex is a pretty big deal. This individual, of more than average intellect, physical characteristics and wit, was able to tell me that each time they had sex it meant something to them, and it was indeed some sort of peak in a relationship. However, when I presented my idea that maybe sex is routine for some, and should not be the reason why so many women end up on "Snapped", why so many people go missing, why so many spouses end up dead or divorced...they were unable to explain why they felt this way, other than to say it was what they were taught as a child. Hmm...really?

Let's be honest. In ancient times, when sex was required in order to create more members in a society, it was not some special thing. Most men, who were deemed desirable in their physical traits in those days were told to have sex as often as possible in order to create desirable heirs to their name.  Only with the overpopulation of humans, the concept of love as well as marriage between two people lasting forever, did the idea of the physical representation of a union (sex) grow the emotional and "big deal" ideology that stands today. Also, with the addition of unwanted pregnancy, disease and feelings of lust disguised as love that can come as the result of an orgasm (male or female), sex has become more a "mental game" than a simple physical activity designed to create children, which, by the way, happens to feel good to both partners. I've thought about this while trying to build thoughts to discuss sex on the radio show, and I'm sure that not everyone will agree. However, I ask that they take the disease, the possible resulting children and even love out of the equation. The act of sex is not the "head game", but the dealing with the partner. Therefore, "Romancing the Sex" shouldn't happen. Leave the romance for later.

A.

Somethin' For Nothin'

So, I'm making my plans for the New Year. Everyone says that it's resolutions, that every new year allows us a chance to clean our slates and start anew..and while I'm no big believer in fresh starts, mainly because fresh starts don't exist, I'm owning up to my mistakes, and planning to make the best decisions in my life. Also, fresh starts don't really exist..especially in relationships. I say this because things never seem to want to be left alone. Sadly, we live in an insecure society. People feel that they must be judge against as well as judge other people. Were they better looking, better in bed, funnier, smarter, more interesting, charming, giving than I am? I'm sure at some point everyone has asked these questions, especially when dealing with matters of the heart and matters of intimacy. It's the questions that drive us. Well, my philosophy is to let sleeping dogs lie. Otherwise, leave the past alone. If it isn't affect you, what you currently do or plan to do, then it shouldn't matter. Sadly, I have yet to meet someone, especially a male that I'm attracted to. I thought that these issues would kind of be resolved, but, I just cant seem to find the combination of sexiness, maturity, sensuality, kindness, trust and devotion in a man. I keep looking though, and that brings me to my New Years 'resolution', to devote myself to myself...to find self-love first, and then find it in someone else. I wish I could relieve certain moments in the past over again, behave differently, but since it's not an option, I will be shaking the past moments, assumptions and bad advice off of my feet and going for what is best for me. Not the concept that is given four stars by Good Housekeeping magazine.

A.

Randomly Random Holiday Thoughts

I was up at the god-awful hour of 530am the night before New Years Eve, and I found out that Vanilla Ice aka Rob Van Winkle starred in a movie called "Cool as Ice" in 1991. The movie is like when you are driving down a highway and see a bad car accident, ambulances and all, and want to look away, but you can't. Eventually traffic slows down to a slow crawl because everyone is staring. Maybe it was the combination of just seeing the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Part III, since I was in a 90's movie mood, but  it was pretty bad. The movie is about a guy, named Johnny, who is played by Vanilla Ice, who rides cross-country with his band. And yes, in a strange coincidence, he is a rapper. The movie even opens with Ice rapping in his usual flamboyant style...and the song's chorus (or hook) is sung by none other than the cell-phone tossing Naomi Campell, who appears in the opening. Johnny gets the bright idea to travel across country with his band mates, and along the way, meets Kathy (Kat) played by Kristin Minter, an honor student. She catches his eye, and he decides to stay in town long enough to get her attention. Meanwhile, the town is so supportive of Kathy excelling in school that a local news crew comes to interview her. In the interview, they talk to her father, who makes a lame attempt to cover his face. It is revealed later that her father was put into the Witness Protection Program and is found by the crooked cops looking for him, who just so happen to be watching the interview. At this point, Im laughing so hard that I can barely understand anything going on. Not only is this movie poorly acted, its storyline is predictable (Johnny must help Kat save her dad from the crooked cops who want to harm him while still managing to be cool and wear the flashiest pants ever designed), and the dialogue is terrible. An example:

Johnny goes to Kathy's house to see if she's home and possibly talk to her...instead of seeing her, he finds Kathy's mother, Ms. Winslow.

Johnny: Hey-yo, wasup ma'am? Ms. Winslow: Can I help you? Johnny: Yeah, I'm looking for Kat. Ms. Winslow: We don't have a cat. Johnny: Kathy, your daughter.

It's so bad, its good...well no actually, it sucks. I see movies like this and wonder, what Hollywood exec said, "Hey, let's greenlight a "hip-hop" remake of Rebel Without a Cause, and let's do it with Vanilla Ice! It'll bring in MILLIONS!" I hope it wasn't because V. Ice, his "down" nickname, said he was like the "James Dean of rap", and Rebel was Dean's most well-known movie. Cool as Ice was received so badly by critics that the director, David Kellogg, didn't work again for EIGHT years after this movie came out. He is now known for directing 1999's Inspector Gadget. Many reviewers said, and I agree, that the whole budget for the film must have been spent on V. Ice's wardrobe, since everyone else looks like they just kind of fell out of the second-hand clothes shop. Almost 20 years later, in Indiana, I bet James Dean is STILL rolling in his grave.

A.

Whomever Said "Love is Easy", They Are Lying to Themselves or Celibate Part II

Okay, so even though the first part of this blog was months and months ago, I felt it necessary to conclude it sometime before 2007 ended. Yes, no one really reads this, but I do not publicize this blog enough. That's my mistake. Oh well, that's gonna change. As I mentioned in part I, months ago I read Lies at the Altar: The Truth About Great Marriages that my mom gave me after discussing my relationship. At that time, it was current, but now, its not so current. I guessed then what her message was, but the many months long gap between entries gave me the foresight to say that now I know what her meaning was...it was that she saw the potential of longevity between us because there was love there. She just wanted me to make the best decision for me....I already explained that I feel there are five types of significant others in relationships. Two of the five I named "The Distracter" and "The Con-Artist". "The Distracter" is pretty much a person who keeps you in awe, who you fall heads over heels for, and overwhelms you with charisma. In dealing with them, you lose yourself and become distracted from doing whatever it is that you originally planned, and you become overwhelmed in theirs. Whereas "The Con-Artist"creates an illusion in your mind that you will be safe, no matter what with them, that you will not face rejection, that their love is yours forever, and with them you will have a happy ending. However, it is simply that, an illusion, and when you realize that it is all false, you will crash and burn. Next, we have "The Pacifier", "The Smotherer" and "The Diffuser-Abuser".

The Pacifier:I also had my first interaction with the Pacifier in college. The Pacifier is the type of person who for whatever reason, leaves you unable to express yourself and conforms your needs and desires in a relationship to theirs. As such, you grow to resent the precedent that they have set with you, whether it be accidental or not, and even though you may love this person more than you could ever love someone....you will never be happy with them because they don't know the 'real' you. While Pacifier exist, the other position of this type is "The Pacifist" which means that you are the one that inadvertently suppresses your mate's feelings and desires. In my case, I was a cooking, cleaning, washing and folding fool. Then later, in another relationship, I was "The Pacifist" and I had this guy bending over backward to do what I wanted, and I didn't realize it. Being a serial pacifist or pacifier just means that you tend to dominate or be dominated in relationships.Lesson Learned: You have to take time to know what you are and what you want in a relationship and cannot let yourself be convinced of otherwise. However, you also have to learn to compromise with that person so that both of your needs are met. If it is not an equal balance of communication and honesty, the relationship will not thrive and your heart will wind up broken.

The Smotherer: The Smotherer is simply that...someone who smothers you, so that you become "The Smothered". Like "The Pacifier", you can lose what I call your "relationship identity" (not just the role you have, but the things you want and need within that relationship) to the other person. However, where the Smotherer and the Pacifier differ is that the Smotherer may not just conform to your needs in a relationship, but your life as well. A Smotherer will want you to spend your time with them, and may expect you to do so that you end up sacrificing relationships with other friends, and if you bring it up, it may cause friction between you. Conversely, if you are smothering someone, they will become somewhat distant and may begin to lie to you about their whereabouts and schedule just to get some solo time. I found myself pretending to take more classes than I actually did, just so that I knew from 9am to 1pm on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, my Smothering boyfriend would not call me. I can happily admit, I've never been a Smotherer. Lesson Learned: Even if you feel the euphoria of a new relationship, do not feel the need to draw a calendar of your exact schedule. Even if you do, don't always feel compelled to answer the phone. Sometimes it is nice to just be unavailable.

Lastly...
The Diffuser-Abuser: This one is always hard to label because things always seem great in the beginning. It usually starts with the "Diffuser-Abuser" expressing some extreme emotion, whether its unsupported jealousy, rage, anger over something trivial or endless questioning. They eventually find things to argue about, and will begin to distrust you. No matter what you say or do, you cannot and will not convince them you are faithful to the relationship. The abuse you receive is not physical but emotional. However, because their mistrust comes from their own insecurities, it will be something that will inevitably break up the relationship. Sad fact, but true.Lesson Learned: No matter how much time or energy you spend reassuring the Diffuser-Abuser that you are faithful, (and with this type, you have to be, since they more than likely are a Smotherer also) they will not believe you. It is better to let them go find a similar type to harass and stay away. It will be hard because sex with Diffuser-Abusers tends to be some of the best, if not the best you have or ever will have in life.

Now granted, there are sub-divisions...those will be explained later.

Hope this helps you identify your mate,
A.

Whomever Said "Love is Easy", They Are Lying to Themselves or Celibate Part I

I never realized how much give and take goes into a relationship. I just finished reading a book called Lies at the Altar: The Truth About Great Marriages that my mother handed to me one morning after I'd sat on her bed discussing my current relationship. What her exact message was, I cannot guess, mainly because she is an expert at double meanings. Written by Dr. Robin L. Smith, best known as being the psychologist that is often featured on Oprah's show anytime there are people with relationship issues, the book discusses healthy techniques to solidify an existing marriage, to prepare for an upcoming marriage, as well as things to demand in a healthy relationship. While readingI thought about my current relationship, but more so about how my past relationships had affected my outlook on love and how I'd changed. I realized in doing so that I am different, not in a bad or good way, but different. I've broken down the men in my life, not by name, but by type and the relationship, as well as its outcome and what I've learned and can pass on to those. (These can apply to men and women, so if this sounds like your partner, but just a "he" instead of "she", know the pronouns are interchangeable.)

The Distracter: I met him when I was in high school, and was immediately taken aback by his looks. He was pretty much the guy you dream of and can easily find yourself going out of your way to see. I pretty much was infatuated with him, loving the moments when I was in his company and hating the moments when I was not. He was interested in me, if not for my naviete (because in those days, I truly was, especially when it came to the opposite sex), but for my attempts at humor, my ability to hang on his every word and syllable. Whatever he told me, I took it as the truth, hook, line and sinker. However, he was also a charismatic handsome man, and that is a lethal combination. So his lies became my truth, and his world became what I lived for...he diverted me from my own goals and inexplicably created new ones for me, and in becoming a part of his world, his goals and his fantasy, I lost myself. When I began to realize this, as others around me did also, I started to pull away, and even though his good looks kept my heart aflutter, my brain knew better. Eventually, we went our seperate ways, not because of a conflict that came to a boil but something much more simple....Mr. Distracter needed a present audience, and if he traveled off to school, I was unable to follow. Lesson Learned: You have to be secure in who you are and love that person, from your morals to your clothes, before you can even think to love someone else. You have to know yourself before you can know someone else.

The Con-Artist: My first interaction with the Con-Artist was in college. Now, don't get me wrong, he never stole a dime from me. When I call him the Con-Artist, I mean that he was able to build himself in my mind, heart and spirit as the end-all answer to my problems. The actual con was that it took me a while to discover that it was an illusion, and instead of stealing my money, he stole my belief that men were trustworthy. The sadder thing was that Mr. Con-Artist did not realize he was creating this illusion, and if he did, in his eyes it was the best he could give me. Initially, I took his feelings and expressions of love as enough, but I needed more..to know his feelings were unconditional, as mine were for him. That was the illusion, because at the first true test, all his dissatisfaction towards me and things I could not change altered his 'love' for me and our fractured relationship. Because the illusion was so elaborate and well-maintained through time, the men that came after him had to deal with the damage he'd created on my psyche, restore my faith in men, and though some were good men, great men even, the work proved to be too much. As a result, I ended up losing out on a guy who could have been my relationship partner for a long time...maybe not forever, but a while. Lesson Learned: Each relationship is its own entity, and just because the last person broke your heart, it does not mean that the next person will. You have to find ways to repair yourself so that the next person that comes along does not have to deal with the remnants of a Con-Artist.

Coming in Part II:The Pacifier, The Smotherer and The Diffuser-Abuser

Ashley Robin

"Look Mommy, There's a Volkswagen Sittin on the Side of the Road at 1am"..."Ooh, Let's Keep Drivin!"

Last night had to be the suckiest night ever. Seriously. I felt like goin to see my cousin in the suburbs and drowning my sorrows (more about those later) in a sickeningly-sweet alcoholic beverage. I got there, had a good time, probably a little too much to drink and spent an hour sobering up over ridiculously hot buffalo wings and blue cheese, leaving out only because my stomach was doing more flips than Mary Lou Retton on speed. Driving on the way home, I was thinking about my current situation, trying to get as much mental process done and started feeling a little tired. Lucky for me and all the other drivers on the highway, I had a can of Red Bull in my backseat. So, not realizing my gas tank is damn near empty, I pull over to get it out of my pseudo overnight bag. Unfortunately, the bag was in the trunk. I remembered reading somewhere that people were getting out of their cars while leaving the keys in the ignition and wound up locked out of their own car, so I cut the car off and hopped out, using them to get the trunk open and my taurine-flavored energy drink. I stood there for a minute, gulping down the can's contents in what my mother calls "Bumblefu*k" (i.e. Nowheresville, USA population: YOU) and watch the cars whizzing past me. I can't help but feel that Bumblefu*k doesn't seem like such a bad place to take residence..at least temporarily. Anyway, I got a little chilly and decided to get back in the car and on the road, because the cool air had given me some additional energy. I get in the car, turn the ignition and whoops....car's not starting. I keep trying, my three inch heel boot covered foot pushing the gas pedal damn near to the floor over and over when a voice in my subconscious says to me. "Hey dummy, you forgot gas before you left her house and got on the highway...you decided to wait because it was cheaper out here...now the car's pretty much on empty and won't start!" I feel even more sucky. I look at myself in the mirror as if to say "Stupid, Stupid, Stupid..." but suddenly feel the buffalo wings coming up....(you don't wanna hear about the next part, but let's just say I have a reason to not eat buffalo wings that are that hot again). After that, I find my cell phone that is damn near dead and call my boyfriend. He doesn't answer. I would call my mom, but she's knocked out on demerol for a painful tooth, and my dad's in New York, so all he's gonna do is try to call my mom. As I'm thinking about who would be up at 1-something-am on a Monday morning, and out of those, who would be willing to drive out to Bumblefu*k to rescue a half-awake, mostly sober with a stomach churning more acid than the vial that created the Joker, Red Bull chugging, buffalo wing and mojito breath having 5 foot 2 and 1/2 nitwit who forgot to put gas in her tank because she's too preoccupied with other issues, the phone dies. Hahaha...now the joke's on me. Sadly, I ain't laughing. As I walk to the nearest exit, which was a little bit of a ways, but luckily I have a flashlight and an umbrella in the car. (The flashlight so I don't get lost in the dark and the umbrella for thwacking whom or whatever may feel the presence of mind to pounce on me..), I reflect, "How did I get here?" "What was I thinking?" and more importantly, "What would Lois Lane do?" (Superman was on earlier, and my thoughts late at night are almost always completely random). Finally, after staggering up the side of the off-ramp without being hit, feet aching and somewhat irritated at myself and my own silliness, I spot the best thing I've seen all night, a BP Amoco, which logo strangely reminds me of the LimeWire file sharing application. Debit card in hand, ready to borrow gas can from the station, I am sure that unlike dear Lois, I can save myself and will not require the assistance of a red-caped, blue-tight adorned gentleman.
Fate or circumstance, whichever you believe in, was not through with making my evening worse, however. I'm all ready to take said gas can to said stranded vehicle with about five or six dollars of gas in said can when the attendant, a weird fellow named Sherman, informs me my debit card isn't being read by his lovely machines. Many lovely profane words later, I am standing outside staring at a pay phone. I have to call someone to help me out of this mess, and I am slightly pissed. Saving myself would have been so much more interesting. Luckily, a buddy of mine who suffers from insomnia, along with his need to rescue people is known for being up and going on crazy missions in the middle of the night has a similar phone number to my own. (You must realize that my own memory at this point of the night is crap, and my cell phone is worthless.) I call, and luckily, he answers, saying he is on the way. Bless insomniacs when you need them. A strange conversation and a courtesy cup of hot chocolate later, I am accompanied with gas in a gas can back to my car. Also, I have been given 10 dollars to put into my tank so that I can indeed arrive home. I walk in the door sometime around 2, not sure when, send an slightly irritated text to aforementioned sleepy boyfriend and pile in the bed.

Ashley Robin