Theme Song for 2012…..

This song has become my new theme for the up and coming New Year. It’s been my motivation. I wake up every morning jamming this joint…..Loving it!

Imma keep my head up, hold it high
Really did my best i know you tried
Even though it hurts i will survive
I’ll wipe my eyes, i’ll stay alive
Take a deep breath and count to 10
Today’s a new day i’ll start again,
Even though it hurts deep within
Imma survivor i will win


Imma be ok
I’ll survive, i’ll be fine, i wont cry no way
Dont you talk, i’ll move on, baby walk away

I hope ya’ll enjoy the video as much as I do!


I’m just saying…

So I check my e-mail, and this is what I read:


I know that you have entitled yourself the go to girl on living single over 30.  I am a writer just like you, and have started my own blog.  I must admit your ranting and rants have inspired many of my post.  Well my latest post is one that I felt you would Amen too.  Please read and respond.  I would love to hear your thoughts.

Not sure if you heard, but there is a recession creeping across America and aside from the middle Americans who have foreclosed on their homes, that single mother who lost her job and can’t feed her kids or the college kid who is no longer getting financial aid, single women are suffering. If you are unwed, unattached and out on the dating scene, like myself, you may have noticed something is amiss. Walk past any nice restaurant between the hours of 6-10pm and you’ll find empty seats. You’re out to dinner with your girls and you notice that there are several tables filled with girls just like yourselves, laughing, sharing plates, or mixed pairs but mostly parties of 3 or more. No, your mind isn’t playing tricks on you. The dinner date is dead!
I began noticing the extinction of dinner as a early stage date option mid-summer. I kept hearing the words “Coffee Date” or “Lets meet for coffee”. For one, I do not drink coffee; have never felt tempted to drink coffee nor do I find the inside of a Starbuck’s charming. In fact they all have faint aroma of homelessness and laptop dust. Still, my friends and I wondered what is this about. I asked the men and the explanation was…well it was…
“It’s a recession and I need to know that you have real potential before I come up off $75, $100 for dinner.” 
Looky here, if you think you can take two hours of my time to ask me all types of personal questions while I sip on some hot shit I don’t want while my stomach is doing cartwheels cause I hotfooted it over here on my lunch break for coffee, you have another thing coming.
1 cup of coffee/tea/fancy fruity shit = $4.79
Time spent in coffee shop, talking = 2 hours
Cost of travel to and from coffee date = $4.00 (on public transportation in NYC)
$4.79 / 2 hours + $4.00 – the chances of you seeing me again = You’re a cheap bastard
I can understand being on a budget but you mean to tell me that somewhere between paying $4.79 for a vente Kujichagulia and $40 per person for dinner, you can’t find a nice eatery that will cost you $30 for the whole shabang? Chinese? Thai? BBQ (not BBQ’s the hood chain spot with the steroid chicken wings)? These types of food don’t cost $75 for two. Be inventive and find places with charm and good food. Understand that good doesn’t have to mean gourmet.
Dinner isn’t the end all be all and you not offering it to us as option no. 1 on the “Let’s Hang Out” list isn’t a deal breaker (for most). It does, however, hinder the process. Dinner shows a woman that you are prepared to provide for her. You can work and bring home the (turkey) bacon.
Taking a woman out to dinner is the modern day version of a caveman bringing home a kill: “Look sweetie, look what I slayed for you today in the wilderness. Are you proud of me? Did I make you happy? Are you impressed?”
Taking a woman out for coffee says: “I’d fuck you.”
I’m all for making sure you know a person and if you really want to pursue them. But to place a woman’s value on whether she is worth a meal after 6pm is insulting. Not to mention with women having the balls to approach you dudes you shouldn’t be surprised if when you offer dinner at the end of the meal she picks up the tab.
People, I’m just merely suggesting that men stop thinking with their ego’s and realize that we women know that there is a recession. You can look at our nails and see we’ve been skipping on our manicure appointments (ladies, no matter how bad it gets…never skip the feet. I’ll eat ramen noodles for a week in order to pay for a pedicure, oh and my eyebrows too!) Gentlemen, we ladies promise not to lock up the coochie, or think less of you if you want to take us to Chili’s or Red Lobster for the “All You Can Eat Shrimp” special.
A real woman will ride with you during these hard fiscal times.
– Says the Single Girl
Okay Cammies – Normally I don’t respond to e-mails, and especially not thru my blog, but I had to respond to this.  I just can’t let ignorance persist.  So I respond. 
It reads:
Dear Single Girl:
I understand why you’re single.
I think you’re misconstruing a man’s intent when he asks you for coffee and spends two hours yapping it up. The only thing men are funnier about spending than their money is their time. To sit for two hours talking about what you want to talk about (cause um, men don’t really just chat like that) is an investment in you. He’s actually getting to know you and if he sat there for two hours, he more than likely likes you (or needed to stay in the city to waste time for whatever took place after you.) If he wanted to “fuck” as you say, he’d have offered a meal at his apartment. Best believe that would soothe your hunger pains. 
Frankly, I don’t want a meal that cost $30 for two. That’s like a one bedroom in Manhattan for under $1000. Sure you could eat/live there, but with all the roaches do you want to? To hell with convenience and my grumbling stomach, I’ll take a clean Starbucks over whatever filthy or fast food establishment serves 2 for $30 any day. Quality coffee tops intolerable food (And um, Red Lobster and Chili’s are not an option, but oddly enough I’ll go to BBQs just for the Texas-size mango/banana margarita. Have you had that? Sorry, I’m getting off topic.)
In this economy where having a job tomorrow is anybody’s guess, it’s plain dumb to drop $75 on what could be a one-shot deal. The men you are encountering are making sensible decisions with their money and will likely be able to provide someday as you wish because they are saving, or at least not spending frivolously. Now the dude you want to encounter? Babe, he’s bad with his money. He’ll provide the second-biggest piece of chicken tonight, but with his money-management skills, ya’ll will be eating that Ramen your top-chefing (cause no one eats them just plain or with only the seasoning packet that come with) now together in five years. You know why? “Cause ol’ boy doesn’t know how to prioritize his funds.
The good thing for you is that the spending men you’re looking for exist in abundance– even in a recession. There’s always some no-personality dude who will trick on a chick to make up for his lack of one. Seek harder and ye shall find I promise. And when you do, hold on to him. Most sensible men wouldn’t waste $4.79 on a second date with a woman with an entitled attitude.
Happy dating,

Crashing and Burning Again and Again……

So I am making the decision to stop writing about my personal, recent experiences with dating, relationships and sex. And here’s why: when The John Fiasco happened.. Eh, I fell apart for a second. And well, there are people reading who I didn’t want to know my inner most thoughts on the matter, John included.

It’s been a few weeks now since it all fell down (long story. I’ll tell it someday) Kewon was in my bedroom last night listening to me rant all around about how much I didn’t care about Jay. He paused me mid-sentence when he asked “so why then are you so angry that he won’t talk to you?” I rattled off some generic reasons and he stopped me again. He knows me too well. “No. Tell me why you’re mad.”

You ever look at someone and see the possibilities? Like I saw something in Jay that I could get behind, a cause I could rally for, maybe play the Michelle to his Barack someday, the Lady to his MacBeth. I dunno exactly why. I just saw the could-be. Didn’t want to change him, wanted to enhance him. Looked at his flaws and saw easy ways to positively channel his negative shit. His ish was familiar. I could deal with it. That doesn’t happen often. Last time was BIG.

So it didn’t work out. And because Jay is Jay and I am me, we had to have a long conversation about it. In fact, we had many long conversations about it. And the truth of the matter? He wasn’t ready to create a revolution with me. I’ve heard that before. And from other great guys. No matter how many times you hear it, it stings no less. And I get tired of hearing it too. When does someone great ever say “yah, it’s me and you against the world.” and really mean it. I thought Jay meant it. I believed with every fiber in me that he did; but he fooled me. It’s amazing how a man can just make up their mind over night, that you’re not worth the cause.

After he explained his thoughts, I thought maybe I’ve got this whole dating thing wrong. Maybe the purpose isn’t to meet great people and have great times and eventually pair off. Maybe its just great people and great times until it fizzles out and you just move on. There’s no commitment, no promised tomorrows or even hours later. Just the time you spend together and when you’re apart, you are just that.

I’m not okay with the latter, but I thought I could be. There was a second, just one, where I thought, well, maybe that’s better than nothing? And then I snapped out of it. I don’t know where that came from or what I deserve in life, but I know what I want is more than to share a man, or to have a man who doesn’t want to fight for me.

So I bowed out, gracefully, I think. And yes, it hurt, shit it still hurts.. And in the moment, I thought about Mr. BIG. And I remembered how bad walking away from that hurt. And I remembered that I can get over anything if I can get over that. (Cue Kanye’s “Stronger” or Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” now.) This might hurt, but nothing will ever hurt like that.

After I argued with Jay for the third time that night; I decided to go out on the town. All day, I’d planned on staying in after the horrid day I was having (flurries of emails seems to be the standard M.O. in his world), but suddenly I didn’t want to be alone. Kewon was going to a Founder’s Day party (then another club) with my friends even if I didn’t go.

I dressed in my best and we hit the party, then a club. At the second spot, I run into an old friend, the guy from Queens who said the equivalent of “Cam, I adore you. I only want to be your friend.” We’re cool now though. We dance, we laugh. At some point later in the evening and in the middle of the club at 2AM, I ask him to tell me why we didn’t work.

“You want to talk about that now?” He looks confused.

“Yes,” I declare. “Now.”

He takes a moment to formulate his thoughts. “Cam, I think you’re great,” he begins. “But..”

I burst into tears. You know how you can usually feel them coming? Can take a moment to steady yourself or at least prepare for the onslaught? No time.

I cover my mouth, fully aware of the recklessness I am displaying in public, but I can’t stop. While sobbing, I try to tell Kewon that I am going home, that he should stay and enjoy the party, but he’ll hear none of it, of course. He tells the crew that we are leaving and DonQ tells him, frankly, he’s surprised that I lasted this long. They all knew how bad off I was over this blow up and saw the downward spiral I was destined to take when I ran into Queens. Evidently, I was the only one who expected me to make it through the night without an emotional outburst.

Kewon is holding my purse as he’s walking with me to the car. I’ve got one hand over my mouth trying to hold back sobs and hide my tears, and the other over my face, trying not to die of shame. I’m a real pathetic sight.

DonQ exits the club to check on us and immediately commandeers the situation, by telling me that everything isn’t for everyone. Through tears, I apologize to Kewon the whole way back for ruining his night, which he shrugs off.

“You’re a girl, you get emotional.”

My inner feminist is too upset to correct his sterotype. “But I don’t cry,” I remind him as I wipe away more tears with the sleeve of my dress.

He pulls me onto his shoulder. “Yes, I ‘know.”