and now, the nighttime.

and now ladies and gentlemen, for your reading pleasure... a rant.

this is directed to all the guys that have misjudged and underestimated me to be typical, predictable, or naive. throughout my college career i have had many offers of courtship and beyond. most of which i have turned down with a certain amount of disappointment. no one comes correct any more! ive been told my standards are too high but i refuse to believe that. with fair amount of work and training and patience, almost any guy can become a guy worth fighting for. as of today, december 1, 2005, i have not found him.

at any rate, if i am not attracted to you now, i will not suddenly become so if you

~get letters and a really cool jacket and a call to shout out to let everybody kno who you are. i.e. if u cross. incidentally, beneath the brand new shiny exterior, you are the same guy that didnt particularly intrigue me in the first place and im pretty sure that several weeks of pain and torture didnt magically turn your personality pleasant. plus, most days i dont even like frat guys.

~have lots and lots of money(through your parents, of course) or drive a ridiculously expensive car. although ive been known to sell out for some things, wealth is not one of them. now, i like to be spoiled and caked as much as the next girl, but if every other sentence out your mouth is about the large, inordinate amount of cash that youre sitting on, then we've got a problem. i guess i just dont have that golddigger mentality that seems to come standardly equipped in most models my age. and hey, im not complaining about the loss. toss around money in front of me and i am not amused. in fact, i spit on you. call me crazy, but i was raised in a frugal (tho i use frugal rather loosely here) family and can appreciate the value of a dollar. but not so much so that i act like a hog at the feeding trough when a guy pulls out his money clip. just not me. its cool if we go to mickey d's every now and then and have stay at home dates instead of goin out every night. however, if it becomes a trend then your ass is noncreative and then i have a whole different set of problems with you.

~are the prince of an african nation. (yeh, its happened.) and again, no amount of princely robes will diminish the fact that you have the personality of a rock. or donkey.

~memorize everything about me/show up in my hangout spots/join the band/basically appear incessamment in my life. just not cool, man. i would go so far as to call this stalker tendencies. further, just because you're friends with or know all my friends does not grant carte blanche access to, well, anything. i will not be obligated to go out with you just because you and john were roommates freshman year. get your own creditentials and stop riding on the coattails of knowing who i kno.

(this one's a biggie, so pay up)
~HAVE THE ENDORSEMENT OF MY PARENTS. i dont trust my parents to pick out cds for me, much less a life partner. i dont care how close you and my dad are. dont care how often you volunteer at my mom's day care. hell, you can be invited to our house for dinner every night, babysit the munchkins and take my grandmother to the doctor. none of this will change the fact that your conversation skills are limited to small talk/your definition of creative is a hallmark card with a signature/good reading for you is the reader's digest. let me clarify that you will be dating me not my parents. if they love you so much, they should consider adoption. then we can have many fun days as siblings. but thats about all i foresee in your near future with me in it.

also, it seems to be the common misconception that just because i am a spelmanite that i am going through a rebellious phase and am automatically attracted to "nontraditional boyfriends" i.e. dropouts and street businessmen. no, no, no, and a thousand times NO! my days of obsession with the underdogs and ENDANGEREDBLACKMEN are over! i will not explain away a man's lack of productivity with sociological injustice, childhood trauma, or other basic hard-luck stories.

AND IF I HAVE THIS CONVO ONE MORE TIME, IM GONNA SCREAM:
boy: "well, what does your boyfriend do when you do that?" (or any other unwarranted comment about my boyfriend)
me: "uh, i dont have a boyfriend."
boy: "what?!?!! why not? pretty thing like you?"
me: "havent met the right one yet."
boy: "*steups* your standards are too high" or "i could be the right one baby, *wink*" or "thats what they all say"

in closing, let me say this: i love men. no, i love black men. with a passion. as the poem goes, "theres nothing like a black man." i just get tired of the merry-go-round that is courtship sometimes.