Shop BEFORE you Hop!

It never ceases to amaze me how many young women and men, looking for love, end up with a total LOSER... including myself. I have, in fact, ended up with several losers, to my infinite embarrassment, and occasional bouts of torment.

I think I’m a nice person –hell, we all do. Unfortunately, it is a truth as yet not universally acknowledged that, in one’s lifetime:

1. 25% of the people you meet will Love You Unconditionally. No matter what you do. No matter what you say, or how you say it. No matter how you look or smell or act. Everything you do will be “cool” to them –just because YOU are doing it.

2. 25% of the people you meet will Hate You Unconditionally. On sight. Everything you do, say, decide, opine... will rub them up the wrong way. Everything you wear will be passé or ugly or uncool –even if, and especially if you’re wearing the exact same outfit! Just because, YOU are doing it.

3. 25% of the people you meet will begin by disliking you, and end up one of your die-hard fans.

4. 25% of the people you meet will begin by adoring you... and eventually go off you like three-day old milk.

In relationships, whilst dating, we’re shopping for numbers 1 and 3. So before we come back from our first meeting or date with what we believe is ‘The One’, stop the twinkle in your eye and contain the squeals of excitement in your throat. Likelihood is, the person you’ve met is a 4.

Chemistry is a funny thing –in fact, designed by Nature to trick us into mating. It needs only a certain mood, smell or state of mind in order to flourish... why do you think so many people believe that the person they met at that bar or club last night was ‘perfect’? Of COURSE you clicked! You were with friends, feeling good, a little (or a lot) tipsy, there was the music you liked –you SUFFUSED with feel-good factors, for Pete’s sake. ON PURPOSE –THAT’s how the club makes money! Meeting Chris or Christina in a completely different setting (say, stone cold sober on a bad, rainy day on the bus on the way from a short lunch) would have yielded completely different results!

Which is why it’s so VITAL, when you meet someone you like the look of... to DATE. Remember what that was? DATING? A euphemism for SHOPPINGFORAMATE?

In the days when this word was used properly, men asked women to join them for a drink, a meal, or an evening’s entertainment, in order to suss out the person beneath the veneer of the exquisite, interesting outside personality we all wear. After this, they went home –separately. If they were intrigued, or more than satisfied with the way the evening had gone, the man would ask the woman out again. If she felt the same, she would accept. A series of these “window shopping” sessions would eventually lead to a solid position in the table above, and a solid liaison, destined for long-term commitment, and bliss. A couple of dates or three might leave one of them dissatisfied and or miffed –but a couple of dates never broke anyone’s heart, and quickly enough, there would be another “window shopping” excursion on the horizon.

Dating is what is missing from the Dating Scene these days. Trying on the glove, as it were and seeing how it fits, before going for anything more. Whilst in England, thank the Lord, a man asking a girl out is tantamount to asking her into a relationship (nice and clear-cut) after a couple of meetings, and a few outings in groups with mutual friends –in America and Africa, all is chaos. A man asking a girl on a date may already be married... AND/or dating five others –and won’t even deign to inform her, even, perhaps, should she ask. FURTHERMORE, the ‘Stud’ is intent on sleeping with all the girls he is dating... who, in turn, have began ‘playing the game’ and sleeping with whatever guy they date whom they take a (temporary) liking to. The result, in the 1980s, was the massive spread of HIV/AIDS. The result, in the 2000s, has been an sharp increase in the use of contraceptives, and an even more pointed lowering of society’s morals, as women become wise to men’s games, and begin to ‘own’ them. TOTAL, UTTER, CHAOS.

I thank God for Steve Harvey, the famous comedian, and his book, “Act Like a Woman, Think Like a Man.” Amongst many other treasures, he introduces another truth that should be universally acknowledged –the 90-day Rule of Sex. When you’ve met what you think is ‘The One’, take 90 days to DATE, and then, if all mutual criteria are met satisfactorily, you may have intimate relations. During the 90 days, take the time to:

· Be with each other –simply, genuinely and soberly

· Discuss important things with each other (standards, present and future plans, finances, religion, dreams, holidays, Bucket Lists, children, marriage, divorce, feelings, moods, movies, food, likes, dislikes, Obama, the Apocalypse... WHATEVER!)

· Laugh with each other

· Rag each other

· Argue with each other

· Kiss and hug and cuddle each other

· Introduce each other to your crews / family, in an informal setting

· More!

Just DON’T. GO. THERE. To the bedroom... or even the kitchen table! No matter HOW MUCH you want to. You KNOW how easy it is –therefore, wisely avoid tempting situations. TAKE the 90 days, and avoid what we in Kenya call ATM –Another Terrible Mistake. Shop for the qualities you want, and leave yourself the space to commit with a peaceful heart –and sound mind.

“Painus Exus” –Meet the Species

In December, my ex suddenly came out of the woodwork. At first it was an inquiry as to how I was. I hung up. Next, there was a text inquiring as to how to get a bag of shoes to me, which I had left in his custody. As I so keenly wanted to text back that he should shove it up... and I do try to be a lady, I promptly gave my phone to the friend I happened to be with for safekeeping. Never deterred, when he wants something, my ex promptly contrived to stalk and “run into” me a few days later... with the bag of shoes... which I promptly took, without a word, before continuing on my errands. He was wise enough not to follow, but he did send me another text, immediately, saying that it had been “good to see you.”

This was quickly followed by a phone call that night, which I took, simply in order to repeat what I had told him when we separated: that I wanted nothing more to do with him, that he should lose my number and never call me, nor mail, nor even send either snail-mail nor smoke signals my way. When I am ‘done’, you see, I am ‘done.’ No kidding. He answered genially that he understood... and promptly began a series of phone calls and texts, which prompted me, last week, to type out what I had said on the phone in a text, in capital letters.

I have spent this time expecting a personal visit, and doing some kickboxing, in preparation for it.

Honestly, what is it about the Painus Exus species? The simple answer: they want what they don’t have. They don’t like it that you’ve moved along. They can’t bear to think that you might be able to function, let alone be happy, without them in your life.

In my case, I can quite understand why he might be feeling this way: I spent an entire year compromising all that I was for this man. I actually allowed everything to go his way... because that’s the way he wanted it. I allowed myself to come second, and spoiled him in the process... I am still trying to figure out what I was thinking. Our version of compromise was his way, and if he didn’t get his way, if I so much as hinted that I thought or wanted differently... he would sulk. Naturally, the day my brain began functioning again, and I realised that my Life is actually my own, the relationship was over.

Yes. I. An intelligent, educated woman. Was going to marry that. And that’s not all. I was going to marry that, despite the fact that no one, not family nor friends, approved of him. Therefore, I am reaping the consequences –and what a bitter pill to swallow.

The Painus Exus affects us in many ways, ranging from mildly annoying to gravely dangerous. If your ex begins to stalk you, you must let someone know. If he bugs you via phone, you may have to change your number. The one thing you don’t do –is go back to them. No matter how tempting it might be. Life flows forwards, and not backwards. It may take a while to find him or her, but the right person will come along. If you are able to stay friends with your Painus Exi, all the better, as you may become uncommonly good friends. God Bless You Today!

The Truth Universally Acknowledged about the “Jane Austen” Type

It is a truth universally un-acknowledged that women that I fondly call the 'Jane Austen type', such as I, never find their man. Oh, we might come close (I have) but on the whole we are too... assertive, too independent –we have an opinion about everything, and we aren't shy in expressing ourselves, which, besides, we do with brutal honesty, cloaked only in the warming breath of humour.

I wonder whether in Women Studies (the horror of the name!) there have been studies conducted to determine what type of woman a man will actually go after and marry. And I don't mean the modern, "I take you until such time as we shall divorce", but the literal, traditional "...'til death do us part."


If men want to marry their mothers, as some declare is the case, then BOY did I hit the Motherload (pardon the pun) when I got engaged to my last fiancé! When we were dating, he fondly referred to his mother as a long-suffering, loving woman who doted on her children, had practically no life for herself outside of them (she had 8, so that's not tooo incomprehensible) and doted also, and remained married to a charming man who loves (to this day) to party -often with other women.


I should have known then –but girls in love? Go figure. Intelligence is ejected outside of the brain, and some other base consciousness, slow to move and even slower to understand, sets in. This is the consciousness that makes women react to a polite hint that her man might be cheating with utter hysteria, and blind rage against -the messenger, instead of the man. This is the consciousness that convinces others that he's NOT violent. He just gets worked up and whacks me a few times when I ask him pertinent questions –I’m sure I deserve it.

I have been a very bad dater, all my life. You name it. I have intimacy issues, trust issues, insecurity issues... issues with the physical (Sex, yes, but beyond that... Forgive me, for this is very cruel, though honest: If a man is ugly, no matter how wonderful a person he might be... why oh WHY would I do my future children the disservice of passing on his genes to them? I just don’t believe that I’m THAT beautiful, my side will compensate!) And I always thought that with or without a man, I would be fine. Who needs them, really? Sure, they’re great company –but they’re cads, and we know it. Why bother?


And yet here I am, 30 and 5 months old, and actively husband hunting... online. I figure that a man who can write so as to impress me (me being a writer) should just about do the trick.


I’m ready for a real man... to make me feel like a real woman. I’m ready to get rid of my issues , learn how to trust, and settle down. I want to make plans and budgets and create investment portfolios with a man whom I look up to. I want to discuss kindergartens and college funds. I want to go on holiday with a man, as his wife. I want to take care of him, and I’d like to be taken care of too.


Curious about my criteria? Here’s the Top Ten!


1. He MUST NOT be a black man –I’ve given up on their issues.


2. He MUST be 6 feet tall, or above (yes, it is the matter of my children’s genes.)


3. He MUST have at least a first degree, and preferably a Masters


4. He MUST have plans for his life which he is actively pursuing –no pie-in-the-skies, please.


5. He MUST be universally acknowledged by his friends as being “The Responsible One” –I want the designated driver; not the bouncer’s focus for the night.


6. He MUST have a sense of humour –the crazier the better. Witty, dry, goofy, whatever –as long as it works for everyone. I don’t think a person that laughs at their own jokes is sexy. At all. I add that I’d hope he knew how to laugh at himself and at Life sometimes.


7. He MUST know how to have a good time, and be willing to set work aside for a good while, once in a while –just to kick it!


8. He MUST be affectionate –and I do mean, the grope your ass, bite your neck, lift you up kind of affectionate. No ineffective, sweaty-palmed pawing, please.


9. He MUST be caring towards family and friends


10. He MUST be HIMSELF –I’m not interested in anyone who doesn’t know who they are to such an extent as they must ‘front’.


If you see any flaws in my PERFECT plan, I’d love to hear from you. If you have advice, so much the better!



God Bless You Today!