L is for the way you look at me
O is for the only one I see
V is very, very, extraordinary
E is even more than anyone that you adore can
When was the last time someone told you they loved you?
I'm not talking about your family or friends.
I'm talking about a romantic partner, someone you were
seriously dating, someone you were intimate with for a
length of time.
So think about it, when was the last time someone told you they loved you?
Now think about this: How did it feel?
I remember the last time. He got on his knees and said, "Lottie I love you." I recognized that it must have taken a lot for him to do that, but I didn't feel he was sincere. In fact the relationship ended shortly after he confessed his "love."
I also remember hearing those words from someone I knew really meant them. And I tell you, it was the absolute best feeling.
I believe that everyone wants to be loved - unconditionally (in fact I think love is a human need). I believe everyone wants to know that they matter to someone. I believe each of us wants someone in our lives who cares about us deeply.
What do you think?
(see this is what I get for watching The Notebook last night...)
Monday, May 30, 2011
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Life or Death
I know you guys think I'm just man-hungry — Poor Lottie, desperate for a man. But being in a committed, monogamous relationship, having a caring and loving partner is more than just wanting to have a companion or someone to share my life with. It's also about what we all need in this life: SEX !
Huh? What? Yep, I said it.
According to Dr. Mehmet Oz, "studies have shown that having sex once or twice a week increases immune function, reduces stress, improves mood, lowers blood pressure, and burns calories." In fact, in the January issue of O Magazine the doc included SEX as one of the 8 New Year's Resolutions to Make this Year.
Wow. I would like to lose a few pounds. I am pretty stressed-out these days. And I don't want to get sick. His recommendation sounds better than counting calories, meditating or popping pills.
Dr. Oz repeated the importance of a healthy sex life on a recent episode of The Wendy Williams Show. He said that if you have sex at least twice a week you will live three years longer. And during a taping of Oprah's All Stars earlier this year, Dr.Oz said having sex 3 times a week would be even better. He noted that if you have more than 200 orgasms a year, you can reduce your physiologic age by six years.
I mean, I want to live longer, don't you?
So for me it's more than just wanting a mate. This is a serious matter — a life or death situation.
Thoughts?
Huh? What? Yep, I said it.
According to Dr. Mehmet Oz, "studies have shown that having sex once or twice a week increases immune function, reduces stress, improves mood, lowers blood pressure, and burns calories." In fact, in the January issue of O Magazine the doc included SEX as one of the 8 New Year's Resolutions to Make this Year.
Wow. I would like to lose a few pounds. I am pretty stressed-out these days. And I don't want to get sick. His recommendation sounds better than counting calories, meditating or popping pills.
Dr. Oz repeated the importance of a healthy sex life on a recent episode of The Wendy Williams Show. He said that if you have sex at least twice a week you will live three years longer. And during a taping of Oprah's All Stars earlier this year, Dr.Oz said having sex 3 times a week would be even better. He noted that if you have more than 200 orgasms a year, you can reduce your physiologic age by six years.
I mean, I want to live longer, don't you?
So for me it's more than just wanting a mate. This is a serious matter — a life or death situation.
Thoughts?
Monday, May 16, 2011
Twilight Zone
I decided to ride the train this morning; you know, to try to save a lil money on gas. Plus it was a gorgeous day, a good opportunity to get some exercise in.
I sat on a platform bench, opened my book and waited for the train. A man with a bike approached me:
"Excuse me, can I talk to you for a minute."
I looked up. The man had on sneakers, dirty jeans with blue gloves in his back pocket and a stained white shirt. He had a long beard, with two small black rubber bands holding it together. Oh, and he had a white t-shirt over his head. I assumed the shirt was covering locs. In fact, the shirt on his head was cleaner than the shirt on his body. Dark shades covered his eyes.
"wassup," I asked.
"Well, I think you're a very nice-looking person and I just wanted to know if I could take you out some time."
Was he serious?
"I have a boyfriend," I said.
"Well, you know, everything don't last forever. Nothing's 110%."
geez...
"So, what's your name?"
"You on your way to work?" I asked.
Yeah, he said.
"What do you do?"
"I do a bunch of this and that, you know," he said. "I do some home maintenance. I do car detailing, that's where I'm going now."
Oh, okay.
"Have you ever heard of steel pan drums?"
Huh?
"You know, the steel drums?"
yeah.
"Well, I have a band, a steel pan drum band and we play at the Caribbean Festival every year on Georgia Ave. You been?"
Yeah, I've been. Years ago.
"Well, my band is always out there. We practice a lot - on Wednesday nights, sometimes on weekends."
You live around here? I asked him.
"Right now, I'm staying with my sister," he said. "But I plan to move one day."
How old are you?
"31. Anything wrong with that?" he said, taking off his shades.
No.
"I been talkin' to you all this time and you never told me your name."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"My friends call me Pete."
"Is that your name?"
"My birth name is Ali, but people call me Pete."
I heard the train and got up.
Pete handed me a card of a smiling man with long locs: "If you ever need someone to talk to you can give me a call."
I got on the train, but got off several stops away to transfer downtown. I was standing on the platform when I was approached again by a guy with dirty jeans and a white t-shirt. (Is this a new style I hadn't heard about?)
"Hey beautiful."
I mumbled a hello. He tried to engage me in conversation, but I hurried away. Not again.
What was this? Am I in the Twilight Zone?
Why am I attracting these guys? Why do they think I would be interested in them? I mean I don't think I'm dressed provocatively (I have on black slacks, a blouse and some white sneakers).
But most importantly why am I not attracting the type of guy I want?
Thoughts?
I sat on a platform bench, opened my book and waited for the train. A man with a bike approached me:
"Excuse me, can I talk to you for a minute."
I looked up. The man had on sneakers, dirty jeans with blue gloves in his back pocket and a stained white shirt. He had a long beard, with two small black rubber bands holding it together. Oh, and he had a white t-shirt over his head. I assumed the shirt was covering locs. In fact, the shirt on his head was cleaner than the shirt on his body. Dark shades covered his eyes.
"wassup," I asked.
"Well, I think you're a very nice-looking person and I just wanted to know if I could take you out some time."
Was he serious?
"I have a boyfriend," I said.
"Well, you know, everything don't last forever. Nothing's 110%."
geez...
"So, what's your name?"
"You on your way to work?" I asked.
Yeah, he said.
"What do you do?"
"I do a bunch of this and that, you know," he said. "I do some home maintenance. I do car detailing, that's where I'm going now."
Oh, okay.
"Have you ever heard of steel pan drums?"
Huh?
"You know, the steel drums?"
yeah.
"Well, I have a band, a steel pan drum band and we play at the Caribbean Festival every year on Georgia Ave. You been?"
Yeah, I've been. Years ago.
"Well, my band is always out there. We practice a lot - on Wednesday nights, sometimes on weekends."
You live around here? I asked him.
"Right now, I'm staying with my sister," he said. "But I plan to move one day."
How old are you?
"31. Anything wrong with that?" he said, taking off his shades.
No.
"I been talkin' to you all this time and you never told me your name."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"My friends call me Pete."
"Is that your name?"
"My birth name is Ali, but people call me Pete."
I heard the train and got up.
Pete handed me a card of a smiling man with long locs: "If you ever need someone to talk to you can give me a call."
I got on the train, but got off several stops away to transfer downtown. I was standing on the platform when I was approached again by a guy with dirty jeans and a white t-shirt. (Is this a new style I hadn't heard about?)
"Hey beautiful."
I mumbled a hello. He tried to engage me in conversation, but I hurried away. Not again.
What was this? Am I in the Twilight Zone?
Why am I attracting these guys? Why do they think I would be interested in them? I mean I don't think I'm dressed provocatively (I have on black slacks, a blouse and some white sneakers).
But most importantly why am I not attracting the type of guy I want?
Thoughts?
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Observation
Monday I was on the metro escalator and there was a man in front of me putting on his belt. His pants was so low I could see his underwear.
Now, notice I said, "man." This was not a little boy. This was not a teenager. This was a grown man, an adult.
I'm thinking: "You know you too old to be wearing your pants sagging so low." And then people wonder why they can't get a job? Who's gonna hire this guy? Seriously.
Anyway, at age what do you think young men should stop wearing sagging pants - 18? 21? 25?
Now, notice I said, "man." This was not a little boy. This was not a teenager. This was a grown man, an adult.
I'm thinking: "You know you too old to be wearing your pants sagging so low." And then people wonder why they can't get a job? Who's gonna hire this guy? Seriously.
Anyway, at age what do you think young men should stop wearing sagging pants - 18? 21? 25?
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The Proposal
Last night on the VH1 reality show, Love and Hip Hop, Jim Jones' longtime love Chrissy proposed to the New York rapper. Chrissy had confided in her friend, singer Olivia that she and Jim had been together six years and she was ready for marriage and children.
As Chrissy picked out Jim's ring, she asked the jeweler about her decision: Do you think I'm a nut job for doing this?
"Sometimes we need a little push," the jeweler reasoned. "If we don't get a push, we can't get it done."
But Chrissy was still a little hesitant: He hasn't asked you, she told herself, maybe cause he's not ready.
Nevertheless, she cleaned out her "cookie jar" of savings and bought Jim's ring (and even looked at one for herself) saying defiantly, "He's worth it."
So in front of his family and friends, she did the damn thing:
"It's taken me a long time to figure out exactly what I wanted to do with my life. I want to spend it with you," Chrissy said through tears as she presented Jim with a ring. "Will you Marry me?"
Check out Chrissy's proposal below:
I love Chrissy's spirit. She's sassy. She's tough. And she goes for what she wants.
But I don't know if I would propose to a guy.
So a few questions:
1) What about you? Would you propose to a guy?
2) What if he was a GREAT catch and you didn't want to lose him?
3) What if you had been dating a long time (more than 5 years) and really wanted to get married? Would you take the initiative and give him that "little push"?
4) Just because a guy hasn't proposed, does it mean he doesn't want to marry you?
Let me know your thoughts.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Edward - Part II
My phone rang yesterday afternoon.
“Hello,” I said.
“Why haven’t I heard from you,” the caller demanded.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“This Edward. You took my number out your phone?”
As you recall, I met Edward last Monday at Au Bon Pain. I didn't save his number in my phone, which is why I didn't recognize it.
“So, what’s up? Why haven’t I heard from you?” he asked again.
“Girls, don’t call boys,” I explained.
“First of all, I’m a man,” Edward said. “And baby you need to get off that theory."
“Well, a MAN is suppose to court a woman,” I explained patiently.
“I don’t chase, baby,” he said.
“Chase?” I said. (Did I say chase?)
Then he went into his spiel:
“It’s 10 to 1 out here, so why would I chase any woman?
For everyone I lose, I gain 4.
“You need to get out of that pride thing and get with the program baby.
Men sitting at home chilling; women working all day and paying the bills.”
I interrupted him: “That’s not me.”
But he continued:
“You got an official dude right here and don’t know what to do with him.
I’m official like a referee whistle. I ain’t one of these clowns.
I handle my business. I’ll take you, spoil you, show you love. But I got to feel the love. I got to know you interested.
Edward wasn’t finished:
“I turn down women everyday. I mess with who I want to mess with.
I don’t play games. I see something. I go get it. I keep it 100.
“I know you probably got a lot of dudes chasing you. I can expect that.
All I care about is how you treat me.”
Then he got me upset:
“A lot of dudes, man sometimes I don’t know who’s wearing the pants and who wearing the skirts.
We suppose to be kings out here, but some dudes acting like princesses.
There ain’t never been a woman at the White House and it ain’t never gone be one either.”
I had had enough.
“I gotta go,” I said.
“When can I see you?” Edward asked.
“Call me Sunday.”
LOL – I know it sounds crazy. I know Edward is a chauvinistic little thug, but he amuses me.
Plus, he’s great fodder for my blog.
Any thoughts on what Edward said?
“Hello,” I said.
“Why haven’t I heard from you,” the caller demanded.
“Who is this?” I asked.
“This Edward. You took my number out your phone?”
As you recall, I met Edward last Monday at Au Bon Pain. I didn't save his number in my phone, which is why I didn't recognize it.
“So, what’s up? Why haven’t I heard from you?” he asked again.
“Girls, don’t call boys,” I explained.
“First of all, I’m a man,” Edward said. “And baby you need to get off that theory."
“Well, a MAN is suppose to court a woman,” I explained patiently.
“I don’t chase, baby,” he said.
“Chase?” I said. (Did I say chase?)
Then he went into his spiel:
“It’s 10 to 1 out here, so why would I chase any woman?
For everyone I lose, I gain 4.
“You need to get out of that pride thing and get with the program baby.
Men sitting at home chilling; women working all day and paying the bills.”
I interrupted him: “That’s not me.”
But he continued:
“You got an official dude right here and don’t know what to do with him.
I’m official like a referee whistle. I ain’t one of these clowns.
I handle my business. I’ll take you, spoil you, show you love. But I got to feel the love. I got to know you interested.
Edward wasn’t finished:
“I turn down women everyday. I mess with who I want to mess with.
I don’t play games. I see something. I go get it. I keep it 100.
“I know you probably got a lot of dudes chasing you. I can expect that.
All I care about is how you treat me.”
Then he got me upset:
“A lot of dudes, man sometimes I don’t know who’s wearing the pants and who wearing the skirts.
We suppose to be kings out here, but some dudes acting like princesses.
There ain’t never been a woman at the White House and it ain’t never gone be one either.”
I had had enough.
“I gotta go,” I said.
“When can I see you?” Edward asked.
“Call me Sunday.”
LOL – I know it sounds crazy. I know Edward is a chauvinistic little thug, but he amuses me.
Plus, he’s great fodder for my blog.
Any thoughts on what Edward said?
Friday, April 15, 2011
Love Story
I knew a man had to be involved.
I mean, when a woman decides to just up and leave - selling everything she owns including the clothes off her back - well, it must be love.
Or so she thinks.
Anyway, I attended a going away party last night for a friend who is moving to Ghana. She lost her job with the federal government in January, went to Ghana for a much-needed vacation and met a man.
Ahh, yes.
If there's one thing that can turn our lives around and upside down, it's a man- "a FINE man," she told me. (lol)
Well, after three months of what must have been a whirlwind romance, she's ditching D.C. and heading to Africa. She plans to live with her new love temporarily until she gets her business set up and moves into her own place.
I stared at her long and hard last night. She beamed as she greeted each guest and danced until nearly everyone had left. She looked so HAPPY- absolutely radiant! And why shouldn't she? She's living the life she wants - my kinda hero.
I know this sounds like some kind of Terry McMillan novel or even one of those tearjerker love stories. But I Love the fact that she's writing her own story.
I wish her well. I wish her luck. I wish her LOVE.
Tell me: Would you move across the world to be with a man you had only known for three months?
What are your thoughts?
I mean, when a woman decides to just up and leave - selling everything she owns including the clothes off her back - well, it must be love.
Or so she thinks.
Anyway, I attended a going away party last night for a friend who is moving to Ghana. She lost her job with the federal government in January, went to Ghana for a much-needed vacation and met a man.
Ahh, yes.
If there's one thing that can turn our lives around and upside down, it's a man- "a FINE man," she told me. (lol)
Well, after three months of what must have been a whirlwind romance, she's ditching D.C. and heading to Africa. She plans to live with her new love temporarily until she gets her business set up and moves into her own place.
I stared at her long and hard last night. She beamed as she greeted each guest and danced until nearly everyone had left. She looked so HAPPY- absolutely radiant! And why shouldn't she? She's living the life she wants - my kinda hero.
I know this sounds like some kind of Terry McMillan novel or even one of those tearjerker love stories. But I Love the fact that she's writing her own story.
I wish her well. I wish her luck. I wish her LOVE.
Tell me: Would you move across the world to be with a man you had only known for three months?
What are your thoughts?
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