I don't wanna be your 'baby mama' - a rant.

We haven’t talked about boys in a while. Maybe because I always swear that this blog has nothing to do with such, and therefore I won’t write about them. Then I do. So, I will again tonight. Don’t worry, the names will be excluded to protect the less-than-innocent (in some cases). I believe we’ve established in earlier entries that I’ve been on a bit of a ‘relationship vacation’ for a few years now and am not actively pursuing any sort of dating relationships at the moment. So this entry is not to highlight where my love life is headed – it’s to share with you the bizarre recent occurrences in my life.

Can I just say that I attract the strangest variety of men? No really. I get that I am not your average girl – love of football, nerdy things, and cars included. So as a result I supposed I should expect to attract a few random assortments. That being said, what is with the come-on lines about being their baby momma? No really, not attractive. I’ve heard this term (mostly in a jest) a few times before but in the grocery store or out to dinner with friends is really not the time to spring your baby mama lines on me, gents. The use of that term (in connection to me) literally makes my skin crawl. First off, I don’t want children. If I did, they would not be illegitimate children with men from the grocery store isle. Wouldn’t one assume that guys could find a more appropriate way to express interest? This is however the perfect time to drop the ‘I’m waiting until I’m MARRIED to have SEX’ line. That sometimes does the trick. But honestly, does this work on some women? Because if so, I am scared for them. Clearly these men are getting some kind of positive reaction on occasion or they wouldn’t continue to use it, right? Ack.

I’ve recently been attracting homeless men as well. Not in the sense that they want a few bucks, which I would understand (although I usually just give them food or a fresh water bottle) – but like literally attracting them. In fact, my appeal has grown so much (amongst the homeless) that I actually had to force a man to stop caressing my CAR in a shopping mall parking lot and allow me to leave. What in the world? I do not wish to be anyone’s ‘suga momma’ anymore than I wish to be there ‘baby mama’. Help!

I’ve stopped giving out my phone number. Like at all. There’s nothing worse than having to change someone in your phone book to ‘do not answer – crazy’ to remind yourself not to take their calls. No, not setting myself up for any more of those. When people ask for my number now, I give them one of my e-mail addresses. NOT the one that includes my full name. That way if they turn out to be creepers, you can always just block their e-mail address and be done with it. If they don’t know your full name, they usually (some people are especially internet-stalker-savvy) can’t even find you on facebook. And if they do you can always ignore. This is my safe way to find out if new people are friend-worthy before I give them access to my life in ways that are hard to retract. I’m imparting this knowledge to you all – use it well.

Ok enough boy talk, it gets old fast.

Love,
B