Home Improvement

Some claim that it is the first kiss that determines whether or not you will be spending the rest of your life with that person. Clearly, those people never considered doing a proper background check.

The home: A place in which one’s domestic domains are centered. In other words, a place where in less than five minutes you find out everything you need to know about that individual. 

I was introduced to a guy by the name of Scorpio through a good friend of mine. Clearly the name should have been a dead give away that he was not the one. However, Scorpio or Spider or some insect was attractive, able to carry on an intelligent conversation, and in all honesty was a complete gentleman. After a handful of successful dates, it was time to take the next step: A home viewing. It is safe to say that ignorance truly is bliss because after this experience, we never spoke again.

As he opened the front door, I found myself holding my breath as I stepped through dated pink carpet stained with unidentifiable liquids. The walls displaying tasteless art were covered with cobwebs that draped all throughout the house. The kitchen was of the 1960’s fail in interior décor. As he served me tea out of a Pokémon cup, seriously, I found myself on the edge of a stained sofa with duck tape masking its dumpster tales. He informed me that he lived with two roommates, a bike rider which explained the five bikes and a self proclaimed artist, which explained the tasteless art. As I took a deep sigh of relief, I realized that one cannot always control the common living area; after all, we all make sacrifices when living in a big city.

Before we continued the grand tour, he requested I cover my eyes. Either I was about to be raped or left breathless by a romantic gesture left for the bedroom. After what I saw, rape almost sounded more appetizing. Just Kidding. Ladies and gentleman, with one step through a door nearly off its hinges, I entered the twilight zone. I entered a room where the ceiling was filled with glow in the dark stars, hundreds of them. A romantic attempt to say the least. He proudly pointed out the disco ball that gleamed red, blue, and yellow throughout the room reminding me of a Motel 6 where murders take place. After stumbling over countless objects as he directed me through the bedroom, I began to notice piles and piles of toys. It was time that I got back to reality and requested for the lights to be turned on. I found myself surrounded by a multitude of toy robots, Pokémon memorabilia, and than some. He proceeded to spend the next two hours showing me how it all worked and the history of his collection. I am going to be honest; he had names for these robots. We didn't work out.

Now this may be an extreme example but I must emphasize its importance. Whether you are male or female, it is imperative to take the necessary steps into adulthood and have it be reflected in your apartment. There will be no more beds without frames, windows without blinds, or walls without paint.

 Ladies, you are just as guilty. I beg you, do not leave stained underwear hanging in the shower knowing you have a guest coming over. Do not leave your least flattering or most padded bra on display either, always choose the lace. Always check your bathroom trash because a trash full of used feminine hygiene products only reminds our male counterparts how foreign we are. Moreover, I beg that when you have a boyfriend, you do not cover your walls with his memorabilia or surround yourself with his images. It’s truly creepy. In addition, let me remind you that as much as you love pink, do it in moderation. No man wants to spend the night in a room where he wakes up questioning how he fell asleep in a pre-pubescent girl's bedroom. And last but not least, get it right, keep it tight, and clean your home. No further explanation needed.

As you embrace your adult identity, it is imperative that one’s apartment reflects your new found expectations in the dating scene. I beg that you take your home décor one step further and incorporate style and creativity. After all, no date of yours should leave your home frantically deleting your contact info.

A Master's in Bourgeois

Welcome to LA, a town where the women enter a room with a clear “Who the fuck are you?” stamped across their forehead and men stand in VIP in a well thought out pose. Although tragic, this attitude is almost necessary in order to survive in a town where individuals thrive on insecurities and are determined to make you the next headline story. However, there comes a point when acting bourgeois is counterproductive and this is where I come in.

Bourgeois: An individual, often upper-middle class, who has mastered the ability to walk into any room and act like a complete bitch without consequence.

A close friend of mine brought this issue to my intention when discussing my next topic for Swag Etiquette. He revealed to me how it is no longer the LA women who you find standing on top of tables, gum smacking, an oversized Louis in one hand, and champagne in the other. Rather, LA males have become just as guilty if not more so of this act. As he brought this to my intention, I found myself in disbelief and made it my goal this weekend to take part in Swag Etiquette research. A new topic was found.

Fellas, what in the world are you doing on top of that table that is not even yours? You look absolutely ridiculous. Even more ridiculous when you decided to lift your shirt with one hand and grab a bottle of Ace with the other. That ain’t even your bottle. What in the world were you thinking when you threw those napkins up in the air to 2 Chainz? First of all, that is incredibly wasteful. More so, you now have proved that you haven’t got as much cash as you claimed to have as you lip-sync Rick Ross “I’m a Boss.” You didn’t even pay for those napkins! 

Everywhere I turned the men just stood there, posed, bottle in hand, scanning the scene. Thursday night I was the bearer of bad news when I informed a man his friend was wasting his time trying to talk to my girl, she was never going to call him. He proceeded to lecture me on his financial successes, his attire, and how I knew nothing about “what it was to be a boss.” I can guarantee I will find him in my office seeking social services two years down the line.

My Sunday night consisted of the new aged “head nudge” where one grasps your attention and signals you over without saying a single word. This act in poor communication continued throughout the night because as expected, this individual refused to leave his post as a result of him perfecting his swag like pose. How we got from men whisking you away on a white horse, to “Ay, let me get your number,” to the silent “head nudge” I will never understand.

My favorite are individuals who have perfected the wrist grab. Apparently they missed the lesson in how to properly approach a woman all together and jumped straight into domestic violence territory. Damn, and to think, he didn’t even wait for the honeymoon phase to begin.

Lesson: Fellas, I understand that you are under an immense amount of pressure to prove that you can hold your own as a young man in this society. However, throwing napkins acting like you a boss is asking for a good Facebook status at your expense. Gloating about your finances is only tempting me to disregard any of your positive qualities and contemplate asking you to pay my graduate school tuition. Standing in a VIP booth signaling for me to come over without a proper introduction is only going to remind me to pass up your invitation. It’s a damn shame, you looked real good too. The bourgeois act is understandable to an extent, after all, it sure does grab one’s attention. But when your act comes at the expense of actually socializing with other individuals because you have become so preoccupied by representing your falsified status, it’s time to ask yourself why you are the one heading home alone tonight.

Unfaithful Tragedies

A guy I was talking to began to cancel on me a number of times, of course, using every excuse that seemed to leave no room for error. That is until Facebook told otherwise. One of my favorites is the accidental text message. I love the fact that you thought of me, texted me, and told me you missed me. I only wish that that text was actually for me. The most fatal unfaithful tragedy is one that will never be forgotten. A week before our four year anniversary, my boyfriend at the time cheated on me. With my friend. In our bed. While I was still in it. Than denied it.

Fellas, pay attention and listen closely. I hear you loud and clear in that you are unable to be devoted unless you lie, after all, that’s the game isn’t it? You take pride in a phone filled with numbers, half of which you slept with, only 3 of which you called back. You anxiously send over a text, pet names included, only to send that same message to four other females. I am thoroughly impressed with your enthusiasm in playing the game but the real tragedy is the inability to play by the number one rule. Don’t get caught.

Forget everything you know about playing the game. Let me introduce you to how it is really done: 

Swag Etiquette Rules: How to Be a "Player"

1.     Always separate the individuals in which you wish to be involved with. It is too easy for your name to get passed around among the crew.

2.     If in fact you decided to indulge in crew love, when the members are in the same room, it is imperative you show both attention, respectfully. By being too affectionate or too distant, you just made it way too obvious.  

3.     Since you still failed to follow Rule #1, never arrive, leave, or drive one of these girls home unless it is your main chick. You just became a headline story with that mistake.

4.     Please, double check who you are sending text message to.

5.     Your lady knows your schedule fairly well at this point, an altered schedule leaves room for questioning and therefore room for error.

6.     Naturally, when seeing someone new, we find ourselves more attentive to our appearance. We will notice a sudden change in style, especially if that change is not being done with us.

7.     Iphone users: Go to settings > Messages > Show Subject Field > Off.

8.     When cancelling on dates, it is understandable to give reasoning but remain reasonable. A simple, “I apologize for cancelling on you” will suffice.

9.     Don’t text another chick in front of me. You just made this too easy.

10. Block all tagged photos on Facebook or require approval under Privacy Settings.

11. When you are playing two women at one time, you are at risk of being “checked in” on Facebook. It is imperative that you block “check-in” requests unless you have high hopes of an “accidental” run in. 

12.  Stay consistent. Seriously, you wanted to play the game, play it well.

13. My rule #13 is simple, you can’t deny what we see. Spend your efforts in working on a damn good apology. We just may give you another chance.

14. My Golden Rule: When exclusive with someone, the names of your friends are well known so it is suspicious when a text message with misleading content from a new number arrives. Now you wish you listened to Rule #6. Apply Rule #6 to your cell phone right now. Now change the name of your sideline chick to a male name. You can thank me later.

Lesson:  In the beginning, we gave you the benefit of the doubt. When we caught on, we let you indulge. But when you made it too easy, you lost all swag credibility. Fellas, if this is your game, play by the rules. Don't get caught.

“The real master, I have to say, is me. Three husbands, countless boyfriends, I haven’t been caught yet” –He’s Just Not That Into You

Angry Single Women: The Text Delete

Ladies, Ladies, Ladies, I think it is safe to say that we should not be allowed to own cell phones when single. No, seriously. You thought it was a great idea to get unlimited texting for your smart phone because it was the practical thing to do, right? Wrong. You have just granted yourself a cost efficient opportunity to master “The Text Delete.” With this, you have mastered how to be a convenient sideline chick with a bitch complex. And this is where the trouble begins:

You are past the beginning stages of getting to know each other. Whether you have physically met or not, you have now entered the point where you have begun to invest feelings with a contact name found in your cell phone. The conversations are seemingly ideal, emoticons included. Unfortunately, the text exchanges are short lived and you no longer hear from him. Because both sexes have failed to master proper communication skills, you find yourself obsessing reasons for the drop without any leads. To your surprise, you receive his text, two weeks later. You reply within two seconds. You just mastered how to be a sideline chick. Within no time, you have no new messages.

This is where the bitch side of you comes in. After going through the history of your text exchanges between you and him multiple times, thank you iphone for that feature, you embrace your so-called swag and erase the memory of an ideal exchange of words. After three days pass, you scroll through your contact list and decide to hit him up. Now this is done effortlessly of course despite rereading the message you have carefully prepared multiple times. Message Sent. Did you just receive a one worded response? Infuriated, you decide to put him in check. Contact deleted. Damn, if only you erased that text history again. Now every time you go through your messages you see a visible unidentified set of numbers with “K” attached. Like the Bitch you are you are unphased and fail to remove it. Two weeks later you receive a text from a number you clearly recognize. The text session is now revived with enthusiasm, plans, and an “I miss you” attached from him. Naturally, faith is restored and you add this not-so-strange number back into your contact list, contact photo attached. He never texted you after that, did he? Contact deleted. Text history remains. You know, just incase.

Now my example may be a bit extreme but many of us Angry Single Women have been there. We find deleting his text history liberating. We find deleting his contact name a final step in moving on. However, the instant his number reappears we fail to understand his intentions because we’re preoccupied in reentering the contact info out of restored faith. I once sent my best friend the number of a guy I was talking to since I was deleting it out of my phone. I had her promise not to send it to me unless it was necessary. I asked for it two days later. There was nothing necessary about it. True story.

Lesson: Ladies, stop deleting his contact info multiple times than searching for it in your call history when deemed “necessary.” Stop reading over and over his text exchanges in your history. With all the time you spend editing his contact info in your cell phone, you could be spending the time letting him go a more realistic way. After all, he isn’t receiving a text informing him he has just been removed. But Facebook sure will.