Courtship 2010, part 2 – Who pays?

Talk about drama. This issue is so touchy and it should absolutely not be.

FELLAS – I don’t care if it isn’t 1964. I wouldn’t care if it was 3022. No matter what year it is, you should always be paying for the first three dates. No discussion. Now where some of you go wrong is you take these females to five star steakhouses on the first date and then complain that she is too high maintenance. Don’t set ya self up for failure because she is going to, as she should, expect that level of treatment from there on out. McDonalds isn’t acceptable but a decent mid-range restaurant is the way to go. And oh, if you are dating a chick like me – don’t assume because I may have mentioned staying in shape that I’m going to order the soup and salad. I like to eat. I like to eat a lot. So if you are thinking steak, I’m probably thinking lobster with a bite of your steak on the side. If you are digging this chick and after the first three dates with absolutely no question about you paying for the first three, homegirl should at least be offering to get the drinks or tip. If she doesn’t keep it gentlemen like, pay the bill. After that you have options. And just because you were buying, doesn’t mean she needs to be paying (don’t act like you don’t know what I mean). No meal is going to impress me into rewarding you with the goods.

LADIES – When the check comes, don’t get timid. Remain calm and let him reach for his wallet. Now, if he just looks at you and doesn’t pick up the bill– then reach for your purse and say it was real and then dip. Don’t ever consider talking to a dude who isn’t paying for the first date. But also please don’t walk around singing I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T if you aren’t open to the idea of paying for a night out with the guy you like after the first three dates. A real independent woman always comes prepared and offers. Some say a true gentleman should never accept the offer, but I think that depends on the level of your courtship. And don’t feed him that BS about your time being valuable because his is too. There is always another hungry female waiting for her opp and you might have just lost out because of your Vivica Fox having attitude.


Men paying for the first three dates is considered a basic to me that doesn’t go away with time. Here are some other basics that baby boys of the 80s seem to forget:

Open the door and let her walk thru first

Open the car door (If everything weren’t so high tech I’d remind ladies of the “Bronx Tale” rule on this one)

Let her order her food/drink first (This really really irritates me)

You walk on the outside of the curb (Go find a daddy and ask him if you don’t know what I’m talking about)

If she is driving and you stop for gas…you are expected to pump it (not pay it)

Don’t pull off before she gets in the house

If she is leaving your crib at a walk of shame hour – see her to her car

August 29, 2010 - Will she be back?

What young girl was changed by Lauryn Hill's first solo album?

The Miseducation was probably the first album I really LISTENED to. My virgoness kicked in back in '98 and I became obsessed. I wanted her hair, her lipstick, her swag. I wanted to be her.

The obsession eventually tinkered down to an admiration for what I saw as a young and wise black woman who represented what it meant to stay true to yourself.

I've seen L. Boogie live twice, and every opp I get, I'll see her again.

So I was elated when Rock the Bells announced she would be on the tour and in DC on August 29th.

I could have cared less about Whitney's comeback, but this, this right here, I'm on pins and needles waiting for a new album.

Listen to her interview on NPR's All Things Considered here... http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=128149135

Courting in 2010, part 1

Boy and girl meet. Boy and girl go on first date. All goes well. Boy and girl talk on phone. Boy and girl go on multiple dates. Girl probably thinks they are dating. Boy thinks nothing.

Forget age, race, or even gender…what clarifies each stage of courtship? Dating, Talking, Relationship. No one knows apparently.

As a single woman, it has become quite apparent that everyone has a different definition of dating. So I’ve set out on this journey to inform others that we are all sending/getting mixed signals because we are all reading a different version of Webster.

I’ve been asking around and here are some responses I’ve gotten:

“Talking and dating are same thing. Talking to several people. Neither establishes a commitment. Just like a pre approval” –male

“After a guy and girl go on a few dates that is dating, but girls often assume that means exclusive dating.” – female

“Talking is more serious than dating” – male

“We aren’t dating unless I’m getting it in” – male

“Men don’t date unless they are having sex” – male

“Talking seems to be more serious than dating, dating is more casual” - female

"Hookups are the difference between talking and dating" -female

"Dating is non exclusive - getting to know each other stage. You can date with or without sex being a factor" - female

Why BET?

Now, I only saw the middle of the BET Awards last night, but really BET, why are your productions STILL so low budget?

I'm not into watching videos and I really don't know who sings the songs I like unless my XM radio tells me who they are, but I tuned in last night for the hell of it.

These were my observations:

1. Did TI not see "Set it Off," I was really irritated that he kept calling Queen Latifiah "Chloe" and "Cleo" during their skit.

2. I'm glad Kiki Palmer has parents. I was very pleased to see her dressed like a teenager. Lil girl has a banging body - glad she is keeping it age-appropriate.

3. Diddy Dumb Moveover - Will someone please escort him to the retirement lane. Yes, he is still producing hits and whatever else he does, but other than Ciroc - I need Diddy Dum Dum to fall back.

4. Oh Johnny boy, I have mad love for your music and your generous heart, but I have no love for your barber. Boo, what was going on with the hairline? As a part of the contract you have worked out with your Beard (the gorgeous woman on his arm), she should have told you to get that fixed.

5. Mr. Anderson, you are neither light skinned nor rocking the wavy so please don't put yourself in the same category as El Debarge. And speaking of, who was expecting that comeback? As I said last night, Whitney should have been on that cheap ish like the Debarge's because homeboy looked good and sounded more than decent.

6. Debra Lee you need a new speech writer and stylist. #thatsall

7. Shame on BET for the commemoration of Gary Coleman and Lena Horne.

8. Tyrese - please sing again. You did Teddy P. good last night although I was mad that the no names in the front were too stank to stand up.

9. Alicia, Alicia, Alicia - hair dyed, stripper shoes, non-maternity attire. NO NO and NO.

10. First time i've ever seen Nicki Minaj's face - no comment.



10. STANDING EFFING OVATION for my Puma crush (i'm not old enough to be a cougar). Chris Brown deserved to be on the stage last year and every other stage that paid tribute to the greatest. Most people know I never stopped supporting Chris because my sentiment is (WARNING: I DO NOT SUPPORT DOMESTIC VIOLENCE AT ALL, BUT) sometimes a B*^$# just needs to be beat. It's such a long story on why I feel that way, but this isn't about that. This is about a very young man who made a mistake, a really big mistake, but a young man who deserves to still be recognized for the God-given talent he possesses. I wanted to cry with him and for him as he tried to get the words out to "Man in the mirror" - it was so heartfelt and I couldn't help but feel proud of him. Yes, I'm team breezy all the way unlike you fair weather fans who decided to jump back on ship after last night. His skill, talent, and entertainment value never left - what left was the world's understanding that we build these child stars up only to break them down.

I didn't catch the Prince tribute, but I did kinda watch Drake um, not sure what to call it because he is so not a performer, but that, yeah, I saw that.

Remembering Michael

June 25, 2009

I left work early to finish some last minute errands. I still needed a black clutch and some eyelash glue, haha. Bet, there was a Dots right next to the beauty supply store. (yes, to my surprise Dots is still in business.) That statement alone should let you know that I was living in the heart of Detroit at this time.

I got home with a few minutes to spare before I needed to take off for the airport. Vegas was awaiting my arrival.

It had only been two weeks since my surgery so I still wasn't moving that fast. I threw the final items in my luggage and started checking Twitter. And there they were...

My tweeps were saying that Michael Jackson was in the hospital. The KING OF POP was in critical condition. I immediately sat on my bed and turned on the TV - it couldn't be true.

My parents generation remember John F. Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X. Well, I remember exactly where I was when I heard the tragedies of Tupac, Aaliyah and Michael Jackson.

Everything was still speculation as my father drove me to the airport. I couldn't even think about what was to come with my first trip to Vegas because all I wanted to know was - was he alive.

Twitter was saying yes...but I was holding out until CNN confirmed. I refused to believe my beloved micro-blogging haven.

But by the time I passed thru security and walked toward my gate, it was all too apparent. Every TV in the airport was covering THE DEATH OF MICHAEL JACKSON.

I distinctly remember one janitor, who looked like he had just lost his brother, he was overwhelmed with sadness and looked at me and sad, "sis, I can't believe it."

Arriving in Vegas was a bitter sweet moment. Impersonators were out and MJ music was blaring. It was very nostalgic.

How about you, do you remember the time?

Few and Far Between

WARNING...this is a long one.




This is a photo from June 5, 2009 that ran in Grand Rapids newspaper about Kentwood's Hamilton Elementary school closing. The lady in the white shirt is the principal, but back in 19XX she was my fifth grade teacher.

We meet thousands if not millions of people throughout our lifetime, but very few leave a profound impression. Cindy Charles did that for me.

My mom and I had relocated from SE Michigan to Grand Rapids, MI and I started the fifth grade at Hamilton. It was a nightmare from day 1. I was an opinionated, smart, kinda dorky, SUBURBAN girl plopped down in a majority black school. ***CULTURE SHOCK***

As usual, the boys liked me and the girls hated me. I had one female friend...Cashmere (yes, that was really her name...I wonder what happened to her. FB search taking place now). I was teased for not talking black enough, for getting good grades, and for having above average size boobs at age 10.

I was completely miserable, but Mrs. Charles was my saving grace. I'll never forget the talks she had with me and the confidence she ensued in me. She cared. She taught me. She taught me life lessons and school lessons. I will forever be grateful to her for her kind words and compassionate heart. She was the only reason I was sad to leave GR the next year.

I don't know why, but I started thinking about her this week. I found the photo at the top when I Googled her name to see what she was up to these days. (The last contact I had with her was when I graduated high school).

I think I'll send her a card...just to say Thank You!

I don't know what's going on with my heart, but my head is mos def thinking about those that have gotten me to where I am today (not literally, we don't want to think about those who got me to this cubicle - temping at a marketing firm).

Up next...a couple of Topics

Andy and Amy Topic (and Jack)

Andy (I only called him Topic) was my high school journalism teacher and Amy, well Amy was the assistant principal's secretary and assistant track coach, but probably better described as one of my best friends.

Given Topic's title, it's obvious where our connection was...writing/newspaper. He was a nerd who wore the most ol' school glasses and tried to be a stern teacher (It just wasn't happenin'). So when I found out he was crushing on the new secretary...I was all over the gossip. He was always tight lipped, but Amy spilled everything. And I mean EVERYTHING.

I spent most days sitting in the corner behind her desk, crying, laughing, ditching class, and dreaming about my future after Andover High School.

The two got married, bought a fixer-upper in Royal Oak and soon after she was knocked up. If I wasn't bugging Topic about which J-school to apply for, I was def bugging Amy about my infatuation with Ryan (HS bf). They were my homies. Homies that I thought would be around for my college graduation, my wedding and when I had lil ones.

To my surprise, I was awakened one morning while in my dorm at Mizzou to my bff Rasha crying hysterically. Topic was dead. At 30 years old, he died in his sleep from a heart attack after a night of playing his fave sport...baseball.

I was distraught and a 10 hour drive away from home. But it didn't matter. I packed up my Jetta the next morning and drove back to the OC. I needed to see Amy.

It was one of hardest losses I've ever experienced.

Fast forward 10 months. Rasha and I are babysitting baby Jack (3 years old now) while Amy prepares the house for her bday party. We tuck him in and tell her we'll talk later.

The next morning Rasha calls me hysterical. Amy was dead. The night before her party she ate Thai food and because of her peanut allegery her throat closed.

Rasha and I were the last ones to see her alive.

I still can't believe both of them are gone and that lil Jack and Amy's other 2 children would grow up without them. They were fun-loving, amazing people.

People that I will never forget.

effing FMA

This is how I feel right now, but it has nothing to do with a man.

My fibromyalgia is killing me today. I really just wish I could fade away from this cubicle and go curl up somewhere. I should have known today would be rough considering I didn't sleep at all last night.

In case you don't know anyone with FMA....it blows especially now that I'm a contractor paid hourly. I need a damn sick day right NOW.

5pm - I need you.

Mom never rewarded me for getting A's

Father's Day was this past Sunday and as I posted on FB, it's going to take me a minute to consider that a holiday. While this year I made sure to buy a card and make that phone call even though my dad was in Aruba - it's just not something I'm use to.

I called Aubrella last week when I was in the greeting card section and of course she asked "why" because for most of our lives (and still hers) it's just another day.

Don't get me wrong, my father and I have come along way with our relationship in the last three years, and I think I have his evil wife to thank for most of it. Still trying to figure out why he is married to her, but that is a different entry. But it is because of him that I was able to get my new apartment so I figured, ok, he has actually been a father this past year; I'll recognize this holiday for 2010.

But reading Leonard Pitts Jr's article in the Detroit Free Press today made me rethink, well hell ... isn't he suppose to be there in my times of need.

I can best relate this situation to my years in school. My classmates would always discuss how much money that got for their report cards and I was always standing around like, uh, no my mom doesn't do that. And not because she was low on funds, but because she always said, "I'm not rewarding you for getting good grades because that is what is expected."

So on Sunday, I really wanted to post "Happy Sperm Donor Day" because that's all that a ton of men have done. They haven't made any other prolific contributions to the lives of their children.

Check out the Detroit Free Press article here, but think of this concept in terms of the big picture. Don't have high expectations for recognition or rewards for doing something that should come naturally.

http://www.freep.com/article/20100622/OPINION05/6220322/1320/Expectations-for-dads-not-what-they-used-to-be

Well worth it

I've been known to do some things or buy some things that make people say hmmmmm. Well, splurging on a fantastic ticket to see Maxwell & Jill Scott is something I did recently. But the crazy part isn't that i'm kinda-sorta-unemployed and I paid lots for the ticket. The insane part is that I went alone.

Let me restate that, I, as in Victoria Lynn Holmes aka Tori aka VH1 aka Cheeks, went ALONE. This is mos def a DC Tori thing because back in the D/WB - I barely go to CVS alone.

Best part was that when I got to the Verizon Center and got my Double Goose Gimlet - I could care less:) I was doing me.

The concert was amazing. Not on some let's get hype, white boy wasted type of high, but on a real talk, grown, sexy, emotional, speak to my soul kind of high.

I left the concert that night with these thoughts:

1. Jill is NO JOKE. Beyonce who? This songstress exudes beauty that can't be bought. Her voice almost had me in tears and her words are so sincere. She catapulted herself up there with my all-time fave Lauryn Hill.

2. Say what you want. Maxwell can be gay. He can be the Jolly Green Giant for all I care. What I know is that I didn't even need to see him perform. I closed my eyes and listened to him sing REAL MUSIC - the kind that sent a chill down my spine. He can get it anyday...

One Woman and a Car

Nevermind Two Men and a Truck... I'm one woman with a car.

I'm a Holmes' and if you don't know about us Holmes' women, you should learn. We are a breed of women who get ish done.

So yes, I packed up Blair (my 2009 Saturn Aura) and moved into my new apartment in the District. Now because I'm out here trying to stay afloat - I only had help for about three hours on Saturday, which meant it was up to me and Blair to get the rest of my warehouse of clothes, shoes, and random a$$ stuff into this tiny, but character-filled English basement (True definition: A closet that DC Realtors has tricked folks into thinking it is an actual apartment).

I've been doing this moving thing wayy to much and too often with little help. Side note: I do it because it needs to be done and I can do it, but WTH? I get a little rinky tink (a Burpism)with the male species when it's time for me to move and they all go ghost.

It might not be so bad if I didn't have enough to fill a four bedroom home. When I tell you that I have no clue how I've accumulated so much stuff, you probably wouldn't believe me. Burpis thinks I should be on that A&E show "Hoarders," but it's not that. My best explanation...I'm a Virgo.

Virgos go hard at everything. So when I like something - It's damn near an obsession.

Shoes, Clothes, Purses, Scarves, Books, Trinkets, you name it and I have too much of it. Every time I cleared an inch of space - I realized had more boxes or bags to bring in.

But, I did good, and Blair is excited to be clean and empty again. Looking forward to not moving again until I have one all of the above: a graduate degree, a rock on my finger, and home that I own.

Highway Hood

I'm a Detroit native and a roadie so I've seen my fair share of pimped out cars and customized license plates. But what I saw yesterday when I was driving on I-395 headed to VA takes the cake. Wait, not only did it take the cake, but it SMASHED the cake.

This fool, who was actually kind of cute (but that went out the window), not only customized his license plate (Shake4) but instead of his truck saying Escalade - it read Shakescalade. Now, I have a journalism degree, I'm pursuing a graduate degree in communications, and I simply love words, but for the life of me I CANNOT figure out how to pronounce Shakescalade.

And besides that, WTF? Complete flag on the play for this man who decided that was a smart move. Some people are just too proud of their hoodness for my liking.

What else comes in 3's?

All my close luvs know how hard this transition to DC has been for me. In addition to the overwhelming feeling off rip from just being in a new city - I dealt with one of the most prestigious and challenging graduate schools in our country. But most difficult has been not being able to find permanent employment. (and the loss of Mikko and Maddox)

Just as "they say" death comes in three's - I'm hoping good news does as well.

This week alone faith, prayer, and persistence has paid off for me.

1. After 3 months of living in a frat house and endless housing searches, i've found an apartment in the district. The deal almost fell thru on Tuesday and I thought I was going to break, but in the end - I'm moving this Saturday!!! holla

2. I've been banking on transferring to Georgetown since about my third day at JHU, but they made me reapply. Today, I got an email saying...If you didn't know you've been accepted, wait for it..your letter is in the mail.

3. Still waiting on #3

After quitting my gig in Detroit, I moved out here on a (strategic) limb - only to submit myself back to the life of a part-time retail worker. That was tragic. An interview here and there, but still no offers after four months. So, I took a step back and accepted a fellowship - long story. Now i'm temping as a marketing contractor until that next star twinkles and my phone rings with the most fantabulous offer from one of the 18 million jobs I've applied for.

So tonight I will crack open my new bottle of Malbec (Argentinian wine) and cheers to #s 1,2, and 3 because I know 3 is coming soon.

DC Excuses

I'm suppose to overlook a grown man not having a car just because he lives in the DMV (DC-Maryland-Virginia) area. Well, brothas and Peters, if that is the case then here are my DC excuses:


I don't have to have pretty feet because I do so much damn walking in DC

I don't have to have long straight silky hair every day because it's too hott and humid for all that

I don't have to carry the cute, dainty little clutches because I need to take my life with me on the metro. So, yes I'm carrying a damn suitcase. You never know how long you will be waiting underground.

I don't have to be domesticated because there is a restaurant for you to take me to every night of the year

Anything I missed ladies???

Go Green! Go White!

Staying true to my Spartan blood - I'm all about green and white tonight.

LA fans were super quiet come Sunday evening complaining about the refs and the show the PP and Jesus put on, but let's see what kind of trickery the ladies in gold and purple can pull off tonight.

It's should be quiet the show from flop artist Artest (who by no means whose knocked over by that lil push by Rondo in last game).

I'm expecting a little more from Mr. Kardashian as I'm sure his pimps (Khloe & Kris) will be all in that ear.

As for Crybaby Bryant - all I can say is - I respect his game, but I can't respect the man. And by no means am I just a Kobe hater --- I own a customized necklace that says Kobe. I was scarily OBSESSED with this dude when I was high school, but he's proven to be a disappointment as a man off the court. Quite frankly...I think he is a punk. And nothing about a whining man is attractive.

If you can't catch the game tonight, let's just hope Twitter is up and running properly.

It's war. LET's GO BOSTON!!!!

Alicia said it best

Today is one of these days...

Groupies go bye bye

Groupie (n.) - person (female and sadly, men too) who strategically align their social calendars to always be in the area of certain people (athletes, rappers, politicians, etc.)

If you are impressed by a Mercedes or when someone says they live in a mansion - then you need to go bye bye.

Ladies and gents, put your cameraphones away and close your mouth. These men are nothing special. They know you are groupies and that is exactly how they will treat you.

I inadvertently attended a NFL pool party this weekend and guess what??? I wasn't phased. It was soo not my scene. It was your standard party at a nice home with liq flowing, men drooling and a$$ and boobies everywhere. DJ was on point and the pool was nice, but as I tweeted, "mama didn't raise no groupie." Just as I don't know who these NFL and NBA fourth string (or hell, starters) are ...they don't know who I am. No arrogance in that statement, just fact. Yeah, it was interesting to see a Jay- Z video happening LIVE, but do I ever need to attend another one? NOPE.

I'm using this party as an example, but I'm talking about you Capitol Hill groupies as well. Just because you do your stuntin' on Independence Ave. in a business suit and a glass of Perrier in your hand - don't think you are better than the video girls.

Growing up in Oakland County has afforded me the right to have this attitude. So, when you say mansion to me or drop names or strategically show your keys ... um, yeah, ok. Don't expect me to jump for joy or drop (you know what).

My rule of thumb, enter every room like you are the celebrity. Carrying yourself a certain way says more than you think. That's a note for you young ones like the 19-year-olds who walked me around this party to find my friend - I understand they were excited, but I wanted to take them to the car and school them.

I will say that it could have been a completely different (funnier) experience if my DC girls weren't on some BS that day and AJ would stop playing and just move here, but either way it was cool people watching. Few hours later I got up, got my ish and said bye bye - let them ask why you are leaving...don't be the last one left.

Febreeze isn't that strong

Going on three months of apartment hunting and now that it's summertime even more peeps are posting only for FURNISHED apartments.

NEWS FLASH NEWS FLASH NEWS FLASH

I don't want to sleep on your 10 year-old mattress or even sit on your 2 year-old sofa. That ish is disgusting. No mattress pad and a little Febreeze will stop the bed bugs that i'm sure have been transferred from the interns and college students that you have been renting to for the last umpteenth years.

Ok, maybe I can understand you are going home for the summer, but hell - sell it!

So....Craigslist posters - please note that if you want me or other people who prefer to sleep on their own beds and socialize with their own furnishings to sign a year and even sometimes two year leases...take your ish to a storage unit or put it on the corner.

If not, i'm bleaching everything - so say bye bye to whatever color/finish it was before.

Any progress is good progress

Fibromyalgia, which has also been referred to as fibromyalgia syndrome, fibromyositis and fibrositis, is characterized by chronic widespread pain, multiple tender points, abnormal pain processing, sleep disturbances, fatigue and often psychological distress. (via http://www.fmaware.org/)

I was diagnosed with FM when I was 13 years old after seeing numerous doctors. I still face the challenge of doctors who do not believe this condition to be real. So postings such as the link below give me hope that bigger and better things are yet to come for myself and the millions of others dealing with this daily.


WebMD - A New Way of Diagnosing Fibromyalgia