Shutting it down down down - Pt II

See this woman?

This woman went out on a date on Sunday evening. Her male companion said she went to her car and never came back. He called the police when he realised she was missing. After hours and hours of questioning and I suspect physical persuasion aka a good beating, he confessed to killing her and gave the cops the info which led them to find her body today. She was 40 years old. Mother of 4 children.Her 17 year old daughter had to identify her body today.

People think I am too cynical when it comes to love and dating, and trying new things aka online dating. I make jokes about the psychos out there and about how I imagine I would meet some dude and he would rape me or kidnap me or kill me. And I get "Oh Tamale, you are so negative."

This woman met a man online and after chatting with him for an undisclosed period of time, she went out with him on Sunday evening. She picked him up and they headed to the beach. This was their first date in person. He killed her that same evening. Beautiful woman with a job and kids. What was missing? Companionship. So she probably was too busy with 4 kids to go out and meet men and turned to the internet, where she met her end.

A distraught Daniella Boysie, 17, yesterday pleaded for the public’s help in locating her missing mother. “I want my mummy to come home. I want her home alive and well. I am writing exams and still have Geography and Biology to do next week. This has affected my studies,” the teen cried. Boysie is a sixth form student of Fyzabad Anglican Secondary School.

This could have been me, minus the kids. So no more Tamale being idle on these nutty sites with men in blue speedos professing their loneliness and desire to show me their sugar stick. Shutting it down. These fucking men make being single look like Utopia! Real life men. Cyber men. Men - they seem more and more like a lost cause in my life. The bitterness grows. I just need me a good loyal fluffy dog it seems.

Tamale

Spinster chronicles - May 2009

I could barely drive myself home cause I was so tired but I am on the internet. I mean, Tamale...seriously!

But a dude sent me an email that may send my week into the sphere of joy so I needed to check it.

No, it was not an offer of sex. I wish. I did make an offer this week though and it was accepted but apparently God has other plans for me cause the penis-toter could not get a flight to come service my needs. Again, a tip for the spinster in you

Tip of the Day - If you are single, not willing to settle for crap, but still require some boinking to keep normalcy intact, please ensure that your fuck buddy is at least local and just a car ride away, as opposed to scouring airline websites to procure a seat so you can get some ass.

It's funny how men can have casual sex but a woman who does it is some kinda ho. I am not a wild, panty waving spinster, wrestling every man I meet, but I do have needs and when it becomes unbearable I heed my inner voice and get on the phone or on the email and arrange some therapy. Unfortunately my man pool is suddenly rather shallow and I now need to advertise and contract new FBs.

In other news, am I only desirable to construction workers, the dudes who operate the truck/machine that sucks up the shit from the sewer and other such hard-working, albeit smelly and crass creatures? I mean, I was looking like a hot piece of heaven yesterday and there was a crew of the shit-suckers on the pavement, having lunch and oh God...the appreciative and lusty cries were raised in unison in the middle of Port of Spain. I mean, seriously! This is not the way to win a girl - by cackling like a pack of hyenas in the jungle and causing every other head to turn to look at the poor unwitting girl who was at the centre of the Neanderthal greeting - the victim!

Am I not desirable to men who simply walk up to you and say hi? Or to guys who smile at you from across the table, hoping you would smile back before they come over to ask you out for a coffee?

Or maybe such creatures just no longer exist! And I am condemned to sporadic imported weekend sex to keep my sanity!

Taking the dick away without explanation

I just got raped. By the medical profession. The medical mafia. Where one doctor sees you, refers you to a specialist even though he knows there is nothing wrong with you, but the specialist is also from some little child-rearing village in India. You see said specialist at the break of day on your fucking weeekend, only for doctor #2 to tell you in less than 5 seconds that there is nothing wrong with you, but still rapes your pocket of $400!

I feel totally violated! Just to clear something up though - the specialist was not the fertility doctor, but rather an orthopaedic doctor. I apparently just have a normal, stress-ridden, I-need-a-vacation spine! $400 I could have spent on some shoes or a new outfit. Steups.

So that episode of Oprah I mentioned was really powerful for me cause it highlighted that

1) there are millions of dumb women out there

2) men like these dumb women cause they can do as they will with them, thus leaving the not so dumb women like myself, manless, sexless and snuggle-less

3) I think more like a man than even men themselves know

Oprah was talking to Steve Harvey about his book Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man, a book I think I am going to buy to share with my girlfriends cause they do some dumb shit.

And Lermie is screaming out loud - What is Steve Harvey doing? Why is he revealing the secrets???

As they discussed some of the points in the book, some of what I will call gospels, I sat there and nodded and mmm-hmmed and almost "amen'ed" cause the shit he was saying was just so true and I thought, why don't women get this? The woman who asked about being obligated to have sex with a man cause he bought dinner was just one of the women out there who don't get it. I got it. I have been getting it for years. When Steve said women should not lower their standards just cause they got older, I wanted to tape that shit and blast it across the airwaves to all the women who have told me I have too high standards. I nodded when he said not to go overboard with the standards thing - I am not anal about shit like height, putting the toilet down etc. There was a group of women who had LISTS...long, long lists outlining this so-called perfect man. I am not like THAT. But there are just some basic shit I require - respect, honesty, drive, all his hair (lol...not going beneath that bar again...tried it, and it sucked) and good decent values. Is that too much to ask, for crying out loud??

Don't get me wrong. I do dumb things too but not too many. One thing I will in fact admit to doing and being part of the dumb sisterhood for is the whole closure thing.

Women want closure. Women love closure. When a woman has been "he's not into you'ed" by a man, she wants to know more - why aren't you into me, what did I do, who did you meet, when did you realise, how did I mess up, where did it go wrong?

I am totally guilty of wanting closure. Lock me up and throw away the key. I don't get men just thinking they can walk into your life, stick their dick in you, and then without warning, or explanation, leave. That gets me. That sends my blood boiling.

But as Steve said, men don't do closure and women need to get this. Men pay for that dinner and write it off as a loss and move on. Cause there is another woman around the corner who may give up the pussy for some chicken dinner, or who may just be what they'e looking for, as opposed to you, the dumpee, the no-closure heifer.

And I listened to Steve and I said, "okay, I understand that men just move on...that's cool." Do I agree with it? Hell no. I find it a bit hard to just move on. In fact I get damn vex cause I think I am da shit. lol. And I wanna know why, what, when, how etc. To this day, Baldie has not contacted me to say, "well, I just did not feel you" and that annoys me. It annoys my ego that this not-so-great fucker did not think, I, Tamale, was fantastic. lol. It is an ego thing for me. I make no apologies for this and will take my criticism for it. But I tell a dude when I am not feeling him. I tell him what he did not have to make me want to be with him. It's not hard. And they always wanted to know, so why is it wrong for me to want to know? I know there are other sordid sardine in the ocean but that does not help my closure issues.

But I promise to work on it. Everything else though - I might as well have a 10-inch penis cause I think like a man and I get the rest and wish women would get the rest. Like why do men cheat? Cause there will always be a woman out there willing to be the other woman, without regret or remorse. That's so simple. Why do we pull our hair out over it? We are our own worst enemy and one day we hopefully will figure that shit out.

Oh...I am getting too passionate about this. I have a date with my cookbook. Let me keep it.

Not worth more than a chicken leg???

When you look at tv, you can learn so much. You can learn about what's happening around the planet. You can learn how to make a small bedroom seem larger through use of colour, mirrors etc. You can also learn how no matter where technology takes us, there are always going to be people with no damn sense.

Oprah. Oh no, not that Oprah does not have sense. Her guests. I am watching Oprah the other day and the episode which I think requires its own spinster-loving entry features one woman Skyping in from somewhere. And her question goes something like this

- How do you not feel oblgated to sleep with a man after he has bought you dinner?

I was aghast! Is this where women have evolved to, that we think because a man buys us a pasta dish and a slice of cheesecake, we are obligatated to spreadeagle in humble appreciation?

What was even more alarming was the fact that this was not a 20-something year old woman, who I would give a little leeway - not much, but a little. This woman was 50-frickin-3 years old and asking how to get around sleeping with a man after he paid for dinner. This was the most ridiculous thing I had ever heard, seen etc. I was truly sad for this woman and wondered if she was still single at age 53 or whether she had been married and was out of the dating game for a while or something - some reason why she asked such a dumb question.

I would hope that when a man asks me out and when he pays for my pork ribs or my ravioli, he would not be paying for my...excuse the bluntness...but not paying for my pussy. I mean, this is even worse than prostitution. At least a prostitrute gets some money to pay bills, buy shoes, food, travel etc. The dinner date just gets, if she's lucky, a nice meal and if not, heartburn and diarrhea. The food ends up in the toilet bowl a few hours later, while a cheque can be invested.

If these are the men out there in the world, then I am burning my thong and applauding my spinsterdom cause I am worth more than a plate of chicken!

Dating tips

I won't deny it - I love "reality" television. Why? I love watching dumb Americans making idiots of themselves. It is really very entertaining. Trinis have tried to do "reality" tv but they try too hard to make it American, and it does not come off funny or entertaining. It just comes off as highly annoying.

My latest reality fix, and because I am a single gal myself, is Tough Love on VH1. It is not the typical skank-infested, Flavor Flav type mess though. It's about women working with a matchmaker to get a man. Hmmm...sounds like my kinda show - desperate women willing to try anything. lol.

But there was some good advice from the past couple episodes

- Sometimes you have to make exceptions for exceptional men. So yeah, sometimes we may think we don't want a divorcee, or a dude with kids, but he may be THAT dude. I think it's great advice, though I still think I am young enough and not desperate enough to subscribe to it. I still hold to my personal preference of not wanting a dude with all that baggage. I know it narrows the man pool significantly, but I just see a Flavor Flav, ghetto type baby mama in my dreams when I think of going down that particular road. But I will keep an open mind.

- Don't be a hypocrite. If you won't date a younger man, then you cannot expect an older man to want to date you either. This hit home cause I love the geezers, but not a big big fan of the little boys. Again, depends on the man cause he has to have that something but I get the point.

-Leave the past in the past. I am proud to say I am good at this. Initially after BT I was so bitter that I would go on a rampage but noone wants to hear about him. So we don't speak about him or any of the other assholes back there.

- Don't do reality tv - ever! No matter how sad or desperate your life is, having the entire world watch your hapless dating efforts cannot possible help your social life.

Breakfast babbling

It has been a while since I made myself breakfast. I love croissants and bought a dozen of these mini-croissants in the supermarket. Add some eggs, cheddar, tomatoes and a mochaccino and you have a great start to a Sunday morning.

I tend to eat breakfast on the run cause I am always busy doing random shit. Yesterday morning I had to take the car in for servicing, so I had to be up early and took an apple on the run. Lucky car. I could use some servicing. So I always know this is going to be an ordeal cause all the macho men bring their machines in earlier than I do and when I got there at 7am, thinking I was hot, early shit, there were already 6 man machines in line before me.

Anyway, using my seductive smile and charm, I managed to sneak my lady in and as I stood in the garage overseeing the action, I spotted a red machine sneaking up to the curb. As I saw it, and saw the wrinkled old white woman behind the wheel, I realised this was BT's mum. Do I need to remind new fans who BT is? The nympho, lying ex. I knew old granny could not be puttering around in a strange country with all these big, bad black people by herself and knew that SkinnyFabulous would be nearby and sure enough, there he was across the street. To this day, I see him and get repulsed and ask myself, "Girl, what were you thinking?" I don't think he saw me which was a shame cause even at 7 in the morning I am hot stuff!

After that, I headed to the mall and I always say shopping is the surest way to get back on a diet. My God! I am almost scared to think that none of my work clothes are going to fit me this week when I head back out into the rat race. Today is the last day - I promise. I won't lie though - I have been EATING! So there is no whining or crying. I know what I have been up to and aim to address it.

My friend, Rose - dunno if I mentioned that she finally...FINALLY left the cuntastic Larry late last year, left the island, and can you believe she already has a new guy in her life? She sent me a photo and he is hot shit. I mean, is it just me left at the gate leading to sex, back rubs, Sunday morning breakfasts and happiness? My cousin told me based on her visit thus far, she understands though why I am single and urges me to either order a man from overseas or move. But I still doubt that Mr Tamale even exists. Not even this online dating thing works for me cause I am too cynical and too cheap to pay subscriptions (lol), and then this leaves me at the mercy of the men out there - and so far, instead of the hot dudes you see in the commercials, I have been getting Billy Bobs, with thick facial hair, lots and lots of torn calendars in their past (aka old fuckers), standing in front of barns or pickups. Or meatballs named Gino, with the hamburger meat all out there, and I am lucky if they have a high school education. lol. Or a dude whose handle, I kid you not, was pusslicker.

All this over breakfast.

Riding out the weekend

For those who may not know, this is NOT Tamale.
But this is what you can typically expect to see in a Trini Carnival fete.
Oh, the wonderful slackness!

Not a bad Sunday so far. It's Carnival Sunday here in Trini-land and I am eagerly awaiting the end of Carnival. It sounds blasphemous for a Trini to say such a thing but I am so over it. I had a good run the past couple nights - with friends dragging me out of the house, out of sadness, out of my sundress and into man-cometh outfits as I finally hit a couple of the parties, but I am looking forward to things calming down again. The good thing about these parties, besides the all-you can-eat food and all-you-can-drink premium drinks and cocktails, is that one runs into so many people you have not seen in forever, though last night I managed to run into too many former co-workers. This in itself did not bother me but as my friend, who insisted I had been in the house long enough and bought me an expensive ticket and provided transportation as well, indicated - by Wednesday, when they head back to work, we would somehow go from being friends to a couple.

Is it just that people are naturally salacious that they cannot fathom a man and a woman just being friends? He called me up, knew I was a bit blue and offered to cheer me up. No desire to have sex with me or feel me up even. I mean, he was there to check out the chicks and I was there to check out the guys. I gave him his space so that any prospectives, would not be scared to approach. The opposite could be said where I was concerned cause men don't need an excuse not to approach a woman. The dude next to me was grinding on a very pretty long haired girl, I assumed was his S.O based on the kisses she kept stealing and the territorial way she was gripping his ass. Did this stop him from staring at me all night and mouthing to me, and using his Blackberry to indicate that he wanted my number? No. Did it matter that I was there with someone? Nope. Men are strange creatures. Still, he was really hot, so I took the hunk-induced flattery and my rum-induced buzz home with me in the wee hours of this morning.

In any event, the rain is so indecisive this weekend. It held up mercifully last night, saving me from ruined hair and makeup, but I foresee a lot of the teeny weeny bikini costumes disintegrating in the downpour come Tuesday. I know some of you guys would love to be here for that!

Pins in the voodoo doll

The relatives are here from the US for Carnival and everyone is going out to a party today. Where will I be? In bed. With a book. God...I am pathetic. I should have bought a ticket and gone too. But at $700 a ticket, and with no psychic knowledge that I would have a job, I passed. But then, on a regular day, $700 a ticket is still ridiculous.

Yesterday I really wanted to tell someone, other than my parents, about my new job. Someone other than GB, who apparently had known days ago anyway (the consequences of living on a small island). Someone other than my gal pals. Steups. It was then I started to get real pissed with you-know-who. Mr “He’s Just Not That Into You”. I mean, how can you NOT be into me? Lol. I’m great!

I was really bummed cause for a while he was a good chunk of my life, and we talked all the time, and then he just-not- that-into-you’ed me. How gross. I wanted to email him and let him know anyway but refrained, cause I am the girl whose girlfriends quake in their high heeled pumps at the thought of coming to me with their man troubles cause I am the do-or-die queen. A usual Tamale response, after the requisite hugging and consoling, to some teary-eyed, snotty-nosed confession may go like this -

What? Girl, pick yourself off the floor and stop bawling. Does he think you’re begging? Is he the last chunk of man flesh on the planet? Don’t get lost in that love bullshit. That’s not love. That is BULL….SHIT! Why are you still with him?

Yeah. That sounds about right. And my friends are so predictable – they avoid me and get so silent when they are tolerating some shit they know perfectly well is bullshit – no calls, no texts, no emails, no drive-bys. And especially after the infamous BT, my horrendous ex with the sex addiction and issues with honesty, I sometimes seem to border on rabid, froth-at-the-mouth, red-eyed, snarling man-hater. Of course I am not, cause I truly am a soft marshmallow type - all sweet and gooey inside, but you get the picture. So I was not going to go against the Tamale grain and email this fucker who clearly does not know a good thing when he sees it. I mean, there is being busy and there is just ignoring a girl and this is ignoring. It cannot be preoccupation with work. It cannot be the constant travelling. That never stopped him before. That’s why he has a Blackberry. I stopped initiating contact, hoping to have him prove me wrong, but he has not contacted me at all. Am I going to sit and wonder if I did anything wrong? No. Why waste that kinda time? I am so done with men and their failure to communicate. I don't see why if you're not that into me, you just cannot tell me. I am a big girl. I can take it. Unless he's dead, I don't understand this behaviour.

So I sat with my “got the job” news in my empty study, watching my silent phone, my empty inbox, and cussed him in my mind. Pins in the voodoo doll.

Supermarket Chronicles

Hundreds of people around the world are doing it - blogging about this day in history and about Obama and change coming to America. Don't be too disappointed, but I am not. I think everyone else has said it. What else is there to say about Barack and Michelle and Malia and Sasha? What I will in fact say though, is "hurray Obama" - cause everyone either stayed at home or late at the office to watch the coverage and there was zero traffic and I was home by 4pm! Isn't that fantastic? I will also say Michelle was rockin' that green outfit and I am excited to see if she becomes the first First Lady in a while to rock the inauguration ball in something stylish. The girls looked nice too. They are a very handsome family.

Anyway, back to life in the developing world. So last Saturday I sat down with some truffles and watched one of my favourite movies, Ladder 49. Now the scene which sprung to mind this afternoon was the supermarket scene, where Joaquin Phoenix's character and Jacinda Barrett's meet in the produce aisle (it's always the produce aisle, ain't it?). Meeting a man or woman always seems to happen in a supermarket and here I was, with my little basket with my Cheerios, low fat cheese and some other essentials IN THE SUPERMARKET. A-ha! Would it happen for me?

Well...

Fresh off a weight loss compliment...

Uncle: You slimming?

Tamale: You find so?

Uncle: Yeah man...you look good.

Tamale: And I have been eating non-stop the past 2 weeks.

Uncle: Does not look so

Tamale: Wow. Maybe this is the answer - to eat like a pig.

...and with that swagger, I moseyed on over to the frozen section to get some french fries. As I walked towards the egg section, I spotted not one, but two awesome looking specimens and the first thought was "Oh God. Are they gay?" cause they were shopping together. Nevertheless, I pulled my frame up, pushed the chest out, no need to push the ass out - it is made that way, and worked those heels and those hips. Ay ay...nutten. Not even a glance. WTF! I saw them again at the ice cream freezer, and again...nothing. And one last time at the cashier. This time I got a smile but that was it. And I know I was looking ON today. I was on the phone with a friend and told her of the crisis and realised, this was yet another one of those important life lessons.

So the lessons learnt today -

1. It HAS to be the produce aisle with tomatoes and other breast-like objects or else don't bother

2. Follow your gut instinct always
3. Two men shopping together are clearly gay

4. The movies are all lies!
5. Always buy whole wheat/grain pita pockets in bulk when you see them cause they go quickly

6. Maybe a hardware might be the next attempt.

About the recession - the MAN recession

I had a meeting this morning and afterwards, as we sat on the terrace eating hors d'oeuvres, we started chatting. Us girls that is. And Karla tells me her resolution for 2009 is to quite simply - GET A MAN!

...to which 2 other girls chimed in - YEAH GIRL. mmmmhmmm.

So okay, I need reminding sometimes that I am not actually the last spinster on earth, as much as I may want to believe that I am. I mean, I am not telling random women that my year's mission is to get a man, while eating kebabs. However, I am part of an apparently sizeable group of women - independent, attractive, successful women - who cannot get some regular ass and lovin' and affection.

So what do we do about this?

These days, nothing. I am not so obsessively caught up in this "find a man" adventure. Finding a job to pay the bills and regaining some motivation to lose weight and not eat everything in sight are real priorities for me right now. I mean, we can go on and on about the job bit, but until I actually get a job, it is pretty banal stuff - me talking about my frustrations and anxiety. And in any event, let's remember - Tamale is leaving the job to Jesus!

The eating bit seems to be a bit of a crisis though and I am not sure what prompted it. I have been eating A LOT and it is a tad bit worrying. Maybe I am thinking, "wide hips are the least of my problems when I am penniless and jobless" or maybe I am thinking "well, with the recession when I cannot afford to buy food, it will drop right off so I might as well eat while I can now". Whatever it is, my eating is bordering on fucking ridiculous. I'm hungry now actually and want chips. No chips. The recession has already started affecting my snack haul.

So as we wind our way back to the point at hand, the man recession. Yep. I was saying I am too preoccupied with other things to let this man thing become a Top 5 issue. I got some sex the other day - was not GREAT sex - but it sort of quelled a hunger. Sort of. So I am okay. I also decided that this year, I am going to learn to swim. Yes. I live on an island and cannot swim. But I have plans to apply for that job to laze around on an island all day and blog about it and I need to learn to swim. lol. Plus, it's good exercise though I am a tad bit concerned about the ravaging effects of chlorine on my already ravaged hair. Not to mention my fat ass in a swimsuit in a full pool of young teenagers with pancake flat abs. I also need to save, learn to Latin dance a la Dancing with the Stars and brush up on my French.

So again, you clearly can see the thoughts that proliferate my mind these days - the reason I am not obsessed over the man crisis that everyone else seems to be hot and scattered about.

But sometimes I think, it would be nice to get one of my own.

I challenge you to help my love life

I sent a friend an email yesterday, asking him about his recent holiday in Jamaica and jokingly asked whether he had hooked up with any of the ladies there. His response, this morning - "yep...I did."

I mean, is this some kinda personal crisis that everyone and their mama can meet someone and I cannot? Maybe I am not putting myself in the right places to meet the right people - like maybe Hawaii was a poor man-picker-upper choice of vacation/birthday spot cause there was nothing worth my time - or maybe I am still just too selective. People make selective seem like such a bad thing. Okay, tell me...let's look at my current man basket and you tell me if I am being selective.

Tamale's Man Basket - I am looking at the main players, and not the passersby. I have indicated how we met and a bit about the man.

Bomb - Met through work. 40-something, not young nor hard bodied, handsome though, separated from the missus, too busy for the average Tamale, too rakish and flirtatious for the average Tamale. Very Rhett Butler-esque. Has a bit of a bad boy quality to him - though he is more like a bad child who likes mischief. Non-committal, especially dealing with newfound freedom from a bad marriage. With a wife in the past and kids, the man has some baggage.

Adonis - Met on vacation. 30-something. BO-DEE for days. He has some awesome awesome specs - great ass, great abs, great pecs, great arms, great legs, great piggy. He is a specimen of physical perfection. Handsome too. Very smitten and adores the Tamale very very much. Very kind and loving. Great sex. Typical male issues like cannot properly communicate his emotions. Lives miles and miles away in London. Single but has 3 kids. 3 Kids = a farm. Farm = baggage. lol.

The newcomers - former colleagues we will call Burt (lol) and buddy we will call Ace.

Burt - Met through work. 40-something. No hard body unless you mean the hard pot belly. Great happy hour buddy. Great limer. No attraction to him though - not in that physical sense. Not the sexy kinda ole man I like. Some men are old but sexy, like bomb, even with a full head of greying hair, even if the body eh all there, but there is an aura. Burt has an aura I am sure, but his aura does not attract me. Kid somewhere out there in the world. Kid out there = baby mama somewhere.

Ace - Met online. Yes...you read it right. Online. lol. 30-something. Again, the body is just not there. Hairy beyond belief, except where it matters most. On his head. I must admit, I am a McDreamy kinda hair girl. I love a man with some hair. When you're doing naughty things, you wanna run your fingers through some hair. Or just play with some hair while watching tv. You don't want to apply sun tan lotion to the spot where there used to be hair. lol. Very laid back, very sweet, kind, thoughtful, affectionate. Husband material I think. No kids. Never been married so no family type baggage. The sex - well...there's a deal breaker right there. This is something that may need to be explored again in the future - to make sure. But a lifetime of bad sex is not something I am willing to accept to beat loneliness.

So friends, what do you think? Overly picky? Only Burt actually lives here but I am willing to relocate for my man, but are any of these men worth it? So far...not too sure.