One for the ITOFTS files - First date fail, WDDDA?!

*ITOFTS = I'm too old for this shiggity
*WDDDA = Where Dey Do Dat At?

Met a guy in the Wine & Imported Beer section of Central Market about a week ago. We chatted about Chardonnay, preened over Pinot, grinned over Gew├╝rztraminer, murmured over Moscato. You get the idea. Everything is witty repartee when you're perusing bottles of fermented beverage. As I moved towards the seafood counter, he asked for my name and phone number. I gave him my first name and my Google Voice number and went on with my shopping. Let's say his name was Sam.

Sam called today and asked if I wanted to come out and watch football with him. I said sure, where would he like to meet? He gave me the name of a place I hadn't heard of. I questioned, "Where is that, I don't think I'm familiar with it?" He told me where it was and I frowned. The street he named is a notorious red light district. To the best of my knowledge, nothing was on that side of the highway but strips clubs, shady pay-by-the-hour no-tell motels, liquor stores, gas stations, gun stores and a huge Sam's Warehouse. (Quite the combination of retail, don't you think?)

Jokingly I said, "You aren't inviting me to a strip club for a first date, are you?" Silence. Epic silence. And the all the crickets stopped chirping in dismay. I spoke again, "Sam? Is this a strip club?"

"It's an upscale gentlemen's club, not a sleazy titty bar, what's wrong with that? They have great game day specials. I always have fun there." No doubt.

I was literally struck speechless. Like my mouth moved but no words were forming or falling out of it.

He jumped in. "Oh, you're one of those. You're repressed, you need to ease into this. Let me meet you for coffee first."

I stayed speechless. How do you come out of the gate with strip club and then try to fall back to Starbuck's to work back up to the strip club? I finally found my voice. "You know, I think I'll pass. But have a great time."

"What do you mean you'll pass? You don't want to go out today or at all?" Sam sound confused.

That made two of us. I was confused too. The guy who knew more about wine point scales than I ever would and could pontificate about soil in California vs. Argentina producing merlot vs. malbec thought the booty bar was fine entertainment on a first date? It wasn't just the wine conversation, brother gave good grocery store gab. It did not compute. I wasn't in the mood for a mystery. "At all." I answered shortly.

"Wow. You're really narrow-minded. You need to-"

"Sam, I'm going to stop you right there. Before you waste both of our time running game that works on a confused twenty-two year old. Enjoy your day." Click. Pull up Google Voice option. Automatically block number. And done.

People, is it me? Is the strip-club-as-first-date invitation what's hot in the streetz? I'm unable. I don't have anything against "gentlemen's clubs" if people want to pay women to shake their hindparts, I say do you. I have nothing against Cristal and nem getting rained on at the House of Cheeks. It's not my thing. It's most assuredly not my thing on a first date with someone I'm trying to find out more about. To quote the movie Bad Boys, "How do you concentrate with all the scattered ass everywhere?" I don't know. But I will say this... I'm too old for this.

Fellas, would you take a first date to a strip club? Ladies, would you go on a first date? Am I missing something? Please respond...

'Tis the season for Tomfoolery...

I received a FedEx package today. I was very excited because BougieOlderBro got me the new Kindle and it's been lost in UPS hell since last Thursday. (No, I didn't think it through. Just grabbed the box). I ripped it open and lacy lingerie fell out. Cheeky boyshorts in a rainbow array of colors to be exact. Oh. Clearly not a Kindle. Obviously not from my brother.

I take a second to read the front of the package. It's from an ex. I dig out a note - hope to see you soon. Hmm. Really tho? I look at the items a little closer. They are a size two/XS. Say what? Yes, I've lost weight but not in my adult life have I or will I fit into a size 2/Extra Small anything. Ever. (Did I say ever? Yep.) As I'm contemplating what to think or what to do with aforementioned drawers, I receive a text from this ex. "Hope you like the scarf." 

**crickets** followed by **blinkety blinkety blink**

So wait a minute now. Either someone sent the wrong gift to the wrong person or someone is playing games. Either way, I chose not play. I wrote a note "Pretty sure these aren't meant for me" and resealed the box. Caught FedEx guy before he left the apartment complex. These undies are going to return to sender.

People. I CAN NOT. What would you do in this situation?

Girlfriend of mine called. She's been dating a guy for about two years now. Over Thanksgiving they went ring shopping so you know what she was expecting for Christmas. Christmas Day she gets up and he's sprawled out under the Christmas tree buck-assed naked with a bow wrapped around his "candy cane"... he announced that he was the only present she needed that year. She played it off but was crushed all day. More so the next day when she found out he bought himself a new Lexus and all she got was a bow around something she'd had before... I'm just saying. BougieLand - what say you? Cute, corny or c'mon son?

Anyone get gifts they absolutely loved (I got a sparkly dress for Inauguration Weekend - so excited!), gifts they just didn't understand (see six 2 drawers story above) or any disappointments (Amazon, please free my new Kindle)? Do share.

Yes, I know the season is about more than gifts. Please don't preach in my comments section today...

I guess "Thank You" is the appropriate response?

With a glance at the calendar, I sucked it up and headed out to do Christmas shopping this past weekend. It wasn't until I was at the mall amongst the teeming masses that I remembered why I generally opt to go cyber for the holidays.

This year, for some odd reason, I ventured out to the megamall. I had already been once with BougieMom and I just needed to grab one or two last items. It's always when you push your luck that bad things happen to otherwise good people.

To add to the drama, I've quit shopping at some stores because of their politics and treatment of workers. No Wal-Mart, no Sam's, no Macy's, no Home Depot. Which stores do you think are closest to me? Yep. 

Anywho, it was on my targeted blitz through Nordstrom when disaster struck. I was sandwiched between two clearance racks of sleepwear when a familiar voice called out, "Michele? Is that you?" Why do people say that? You see me, you know who I am, just say hello already. Just saying.

I look up and it's my ex from the wayback, Bill (of crying in the shower and TapBack fame) with his lovely wife. 

"Hey." I say super halfheartedly still recalling the uber-whacktasticness of Bill's tapback call.

"You look great! Jonelle, this is Michele. Remember, I told you about her? Michele, my wife Jonelle."

He told her what about me? Exactly? Anyway, she rushed forward and gave me a big hug. "It's so great to meet you, I have so many questions for you."

For. Real. Tho? No ma'am. "Oh well, I'm meeting someone for a late lunch in a few minutes but it's great to meet you. How are the kids?"

"They are great!" They launched into detail about the two children and I nodded at the appropriate moments.

"Sounds great. I hate to run but..."

Jonelle said, "Before you go, I just want to say that I appreciate how you whipped Bill into shape and then let him go to be with the woman he was supposed to be with."


She continued. "The things that he learned from you well, it was great meeting an emotional grown-up that I didn't have to train, you know?"

By now I'm looking at Bill like - is this how ya'll get down? Your wife is just going to talk about you like a science experiment and you're cool with that? Ooookay. And I'm assuming he never mentioned calling me asking for belated break-up sex? Alrighty then. They were both looking at me expecting an answer so sliding towards the escalator, I smiled. "I guess 'Thank You' is the appropriate response? I'm glad you're happy. Merry Christmas!" I fled.

BougieLand - WDDDA? And what are you supposed to say when someone thanks you for "training" her husband? Anybody had a similar experience? How's your holiday shopping going this year? Oh and hey there, Happy Holidays!

Do share...

Valentine #WDDDA, an Ask a Bougie Chick special

Normally, I turn the sound off on my phone and Kindle Fire when I plug them in for the night. If it's that big of an emergency and you don't have my home number? I'll holla at ya in the morning. But for some reason (mayhaps the 3/4s a bottle of sparkling shiraz I swigged?) last night, I forgot. So at 2:13am when both the Kindle and the Android started beeping and buzzing in sync every ten minutes, I knew something was up. I glanced at the cell and saw it was a series of emails coming in from a BougieLand reader and friend. After verifying that the person wasn't dead, dying or incarcerated, I fell back to sleep. 

I present this story to you edited and reduced for blog size:
You will never, ever believe the shiggity I went through this evening. I told you about the new guy I've been seeing? Well, this was our first Valentine's Day of course and despite you warning about not making it into a big deal, I kinda made it a big deal. He sent flowers and brought a cookie bouquet. Tonight we went out to Pappadeaux. 
We ordered drinks and appetizers and then he said he was going to step outside for a second to call his mom. He's really close to his mother so I thought it was sweet that he was calling his Mom on Valentine's Day. Anyway, it took him a while to come back and he said she was having a bad night. I asked him if he wanted to leave but he said no, he would just check on her a few more times. 
The third time he left the table to call her, the waitress asked me if I had any idea what was going on. Confused, I looked at her and said no. She said, "Your man double-booked you on Valentine's Day." I was like, huh? She said every time he left the table, he ran across the parking lot to the P.F.Chang's. She was like, "Either he's really hungry or he's trying to run two dates at once... on Valentine's Day." She set my Mahi Alexander down in front of me and walked off shaking her head. 
You once said in situations like these there's a class move, a ratchet move and what you wish you had done.  So I sat there thinking WWCD (What Would Chele Do) and then I called the waitress back. I paid for the meal and had her wrap it up to go. I walked across the parking lot, into P.F.Changs and found his table. The look on his face when he saw me walking up - priceless! I slid into the booth next to the other girl and told her. "You know he's out on a date with both of us right now?" I held up the bag. "I was over at Pappadeaux waiting for him to finish talking to his mother." 
"He told me he was talking to his mom too!" She said. We both looked at this fool. He's looking at us like trying to figure out how he's going to get out of this. I said, "I rode with him so I assume you met him here?" She said yes and I asked her for a ride home. We bounced while he begged her and then me and then her to give him a minute to explain. On the way to my house we figured out he's been dating both of us "exclusively" for over four months. I invited her in and we sat and ate the Pappadeaux food like we were best friends. 
Best part of the night - Dude starts texting us not knowing that we are together. He's sending her a line, "Baby you're the only one for me, this is all a misunderstanding." And then sending the same exact thing to me. We weren't replying. He escalated sending e-cards (to both of us) and a Dwele song (to both of us) before going completely ratchet and sending the obligatory "You're going to miss this" peen pic (to BOTH of us). THEN he shows up on my doorstep an hour later (she and I were watching Waiting to Exhale) and starts banging on my door. But he's calling out her name. I swung up the door. "Do you even know which of us is which?"  He stumbled and mumbled upon seeing both of us there before he turned and walked away.
Oh, turns out he got us the exact same flowers and cookies too. What was there a 2-for-1 discount at Scumbag Valentine's R Us? 
I don't need any advice, I'm so done. Lost a man but gained a friend. She and I are going to hang out next weekend. My question to you and BougieLand is: WDDDA?
~A Bougie Friend 
Well Bougie Friend - 
Wow. Just. Wow. Okay maybe he didn't realize both of you thought your relationships were exclusive? No, I can't even pull that one together. I write fiction and I couldn't script that. uberRatchet. By the way, I'm not sure I would have done all that. I might have called a friend to come get me and rolled out. Then again, I might have done exactly this. Depending on my drink situation, I might have caused a minor scene. Then again, I know exactly where that Pappadeaux/PF Changs restaurant grouping is and I frequent them often so... Well played.

BougieLand, what part of the game.... People still try and double book? On a night like Valentine's Day? What would you have done if you were her or the other her or him even? Do share...

Rude Awakening

It was about 3:00am when the sound of raised voices yanked me from what was some truly extraordinary slumber. Grumpily I sat up to figure out where the noise was coming from. It took no time at all to ascertain that a man and a woman were in the middle of the cul-de-sac screaming at each other in the street... at decibels that were uncalled for in that time and place. Really, any time and place but let's move on...

With a sigh, I got up and peeked out of the window and sure enough, there were Dude and Dudette in the street in pajamas howling at one and other. I didn't recognize them as neighbors. As I looked on with disgust and confusion, Dudette picked up her foot and landed a roundhouse kick squarely in Dude's abdomen. Before I could blink, he bopped her upside the head. Oh. Hells. No. 

I dialed 911 and was informed that six calls had already come in and Dallas' finest were already on the way. The words "the way" were still floating into my ear when the first patrol car pulled up. Dude and Dudette were full scale MMA boxing in the street. I went downstairs so I could stop the officers from ringing the doorbell and waking BougieMom (who didn't even twitch an eyelid). 

These two were visiting friends, got into a fight and not wanting to disturb their hosts... decided to step outside. Really tho? She announced, "We always rough house a little bit, it doesn't mean anything."

No. In fact, hell no. The one time I thought about fighting some dude was way back right after college. Not the brightest idea since he was Mr. Law Enforcement and all buffed up. I don't even remember what the fight was about but I got up in his face, he told me to back up, I did not and he gave me a little shove backwards. Again for those who don't know, I'm top heavy with tiny ankles and gravity hates me. I tumbled onto my ass landing painfully on the tile floor. I jumped up and swung my loaded purse at his head. He ducked. And laughed. I remember growling and landing one solid kick to his thigh before his best friend grabbed me around the waist and pulled me into the kitchen. Where he held me hostage until I calmed down. Ever since then I don't do physical confrontation. Ever.

One, I'd never win. Two, razor sharp words wound deeper and have longer lasting impact. Three, no one goes to jail for launching verbal missiles. And four, fighting in the streets is S.No.B! So I put the question to you - WDDDA? And WTH? Is there EVER a good reason to get into a physical confrontation with your s.o.? Would it ever occur to you to fight in the street in the middle of the night? Someone help me understand... The floor is yours.

The Holiday Party - WDDDA?

This was a Christmas party but we could call it a lesson in WDDDA (Where Dey Do Dat At)?

Last Thursday night, John held his first annual holiday bash. It was a combination of his friends, family and coworkers. We have met a few of his coworkers before - side-eye worthy to say the least. Let me give you some highlights from the party:

1. Who brings his mother along to the office holiday bash? Who DOES that? Especially your inappropriate loose-lipped Russian mother? WDDDA? One of John's peers brought his Mama along. Mama Evangeline was... special. Walked in the door, looked around and asked, "A black man lives here? Owns this? Really?" Ma'am. 

Once she got over that, she availed herself of the open bar... freely. She mixed peppermint schnapps and vanilla vodka... as shots. She began to relive her disco days as the night wore on. When she started dry-humping Wes and saying, "Don't you want to boogie with me?" - her son took her home. Too little. Too late.

2. Someone always says one thing too many. John proposed to Annette. She said (and I quote) "Hell yes!" Her family was there and she has that one cousin who is uh - outspoken. Interrupted the joyous celebration by shouting, "Girl, we'd thought you'd never find nobody good." WDDDA? They are planning an early fall wedding. Woo-hoo, another BnB nuptial.

3. Some chicks just won't disappear. The night of "the world is too damn small" continued as another of John's coworkers showed up with the old HnQ chick: David's one night stand and Jay's one time date. Man she gets around. Are there only 7 viable black women in the Allen-Frisco suburb of North Dallas? Apparently. At any rate, for whatever reason she completely ignored David and waltzed straight over to Jay with much attitude. Guess he never called her. And we all know how she feels about that. There was a moment where I was fairly positive that Joy was going to take off her earrings and ask old girl to meet her out back.

4. Finally and Amen. Let's lift a cocktail to Trey. His flu turned into a nasty case of bronchitis and laid him low for a little while. On the up side, when a girl he used to work with found out he was sick - she gave him a call and came by with food. The quickest way to Trey is through fine dining. He brought her to the party and guess what? She's sane! Cute. And brainy. We were stunned. We're holding our collective breath.

5. You ain't got to go home but uh... As the party was winding down, we walked around to make sure no one had left behind coats, purses, whatever. In the downstairs guest room, one of the coworkers had climbed into bed and gone to sleep. I mean taken off shoes, watch, cell phone and slid up underneath the covers. WDDDA? How does one avail themselves of sleeping quarters without invitation? Who raised these people?!

Tomorrow... What NOT to do at an office holiday party. Thoughts, comments, insights? The floor is yours...

Enough is enough - I've decided to #OccupySprint

Twelve years I have been a Sprint customer. Every eighteen months like clockwork, I bought a new phone and signed up for another twenty-four month contract. From Dallas to Cali to 80% travel and back to Dallas, me and Sprint have been through thick and thin. But things have gotten real darn thin.

It started six months ago, when I changed to the BlackBerry flip phone. All of a sudden, my data plan was no longer available. In fact, I needed to add a special BlackBerry data plan to what I already had. Okay fine. So what if the BlackBerry apps sucked and caused me drama. I had that BBM and that made everything else worth it. Until everybody I knew moved to Android or iPhone. Oh well. That wasn't Sprint's fault so I carried on.

Then there was the glitch of adding the work email to my phone. It required a subscription to BlackBerry Enterprise Solutions and there were strict security protocols from my company automatically installed on my phone. It made me crazy. So I took it off but... the security measures would not go away and my personal email settings were all jumbled. Into the Sprint Store I went. Five times. No one could seem to fix it. Not even when they wiped my phone and lost all my apps and data... three times. These things sometimes happen, right? Strike One.

Then there was the Jamaica trip. I was assured that I could add on an International Voice and Data Plan for a month that would cover calls and data from Jamaica with a flat rate for voice and .02 cents per data whatever. Thus, I felt confident to take hour long conference calls from the beach and to tweet from oceanfront. Until the bill came - $378.00. I called Sprint and was told that I misunderstood how the plan worked but they would credit me $14.99. Strike Two.

Running around to book signings and needing to access websites for payment, I decided to get a USB Mobile Internet device from Sprint. It worked twice. Both times inside Sprint stores. For three months, I wandered about slapping the USB into the side of my laptop hoping against hope. Nope. Finally I told Sprint to take it back and cancel the service. Sure, they said they would do it but would have to charge me an early termination fee. Wait... for a service that never worked? And I'm a long time "Premier" customer? For real though? Yeah, they weren't joking. $200 and they wanted it now. Strike effin' three.

I recently gave Time Warner and DirecTV the boot as well. #NoCountryForOverPricedServices. I switched phone, internet and cable to AT&T Uverse. I've worked at AT&T three times in my life so even though they aren't perfect, I knew what I was getting and who to call if any drama pops off. When my Mom complained that her Senior Plan on Sprint had gone from $27.99 to $50 - that was it. I snapped. We were going all in with AT&T. When AT&T sent over the info that her phone number and mine were moving, Sprint politely deducted $275  from her account and from mine. Uh, she wasn't on a contract and we don't have AutoPay. It was a high tech gank. Sprint apologized and promised to reverse the charges. Uh-huh, let me hold my breath.

AT&T sent us an email today to say our phones are on the way, don't you know Sprint has already cut my service? This will be the first weekend in over 13 years with no cell phone. No mobile tweeting, no foursquare, no "I'm on my way" texting? Whatever shall I do? Oh, I know... start a movement and #OccupySprint. :-[

BougieLand, who do you have cell service with? Are you happy, unhappy? Why? Anyone want to march with me?

A minor rant: Black Men - I got your new hu$tle right here

Brothers, bro-hams, ninjas & bruhs... pull up a chair. Economy keeping you down? Not getting any love from The Man? Need a brand new hustle to take you to higher ground? I got it right here, fellas. This is the truth. Guar-an-teed to have you rolling, big pimpin', ballerific in no time flat.

[cue the music - Here comes the brand new flava in ya ear...] You ready? Want to hear it... let's start with the prerequisites:

First and foremost, you don't need any damn credentials. Nan one. All you have to be is black & male. Degree? What? Naw, son. That's just paper. This hustle right here is beyond that old school nonsense. 

Secondly, you don't have to look like much. Or anything. We can get you a tight fade, a shiny suit and a half-decent smile - you'll be alright. 

Thirdly, your ideas don't have to be based in fact. You can make this ish up as you go. Even flip flop it later if that's the way the money flow. You don't have to be consistent or anything. 

Alas, you do have to be a hustler. If you ain't about stepping over others; trampling folks, facts and feelings as you head up - this may not be for you.

Did you pass those four? Still in possession of a penis? Yes? Than you are ready to get it in. Yessir, with what you have learned thus far... you too can be...

A Relationship Expert!!! [cue the music - All I do is win, win, win no matter what...]

Here's what you do next -
1. Get you a Twitter account. Come up with a snappy name like @AllBoutDaLadeez or @GirlGetAMan - you will have 10,000 followers in no time. I mean by tomorrow, son! 
2. Decide what you want in a woman. Doesn't matter if it makes sense. Six foot two, 108 pounds, can look Brazilian with right lighting, only wears BeBe and Steve Madden, cooks authentic Mandarin cuisine from scratch - whatever, that's perfect! Just write up a list on a napkin or a paper plate you borrowed from Big Momma. That's fine. Memorize your list though, you'll need to repeat these often. Call it something clever like "The Man-Catching Manifesto" - the title has got to sizzle. 
3. Now this is important. You need to publish your Manifesto. Website, hardcopy, e-book, FaceBook, all of that. Hold seminars where you charge 26x what is reasonable. See if Nightline will have you on. Maybe BET or VH1 will give you a reality show! 
4. Now tweet the revolution, baby! You are roll-ing! Stand up, tell women how they can get them a good man just. like. you. Be sure to emphasize every thing they are doing wrong as a gender and a race collectively. This is not about individuals. No. Groupthink is what we need here. And if you can find a way to throw in some accusatory shame & blame? Even better. "Girl, you too educated to get a man." "Girl, you need to loose 30 pounds and smile more to get a man". See where I'm going with that?
5. Believe in yo' product. This shiggity will sell! I'm telling you. As long as you present this with some authority and speak on it like you mean it, you are about to Get. Paid. Son! I'm talking Steve Harvey dollar$ here, man!
Now get on out there and talk to women like they are thirsty desert-wanderers and your words are the only oasis in 300 miles. You can do it, I know you can. Oh, can I get a cut of the proceeds? I'm a single black woman, I need every dime I can get. :-/

BougieLand, who has had it UP TO HERE with all these New Jack Relationship Experts? I know I have.

Do you have any idea of how (un)attractive you are?

Sitting outside of Starbuck's Saturday, I was inadvertently sucked into some random dude's delusions. Now I've matured enough to the point where I don't judge a book by its cover. Attractiveness is great but let's be real. Looks come and go, can be bought or sold. If a person has some basics to work with I assume they can be made to look more attractive by numerous ways and means.

That being said, this gentleman was not very attractive. It wasn't just that his features didn't mesh together well, dude was unkempt. He was of medium height, light-skinned, and very thin but literally looked like he had spent the night in a dumpster and was not on well-versed with some basic rules of hygiene. For a man with a $3000 laptop in front of him and BMW keys clutched in his hand, he needed to be on better speaking terms with lotion. And toenail clippers. And a dentist, dermatologist and nutritionist. Just saying. Dude was busted.

Nonetheless, I wasn't judging Monsieur Crusty until... he sat down with a group of friends loudly proclaiming how he only dated "model quality" women. He went on to talk about how some girl approached him at a party the night before and he "shut her down swiftly" because she wasn't "Beyonce beautiful." He went on to say he "couldn't play around with pennies and nickels" only entertained "dimes and quarters."

My mouth dropped open and I had to keep from falling out of my chair. Dude, what? So now not only was he unattractive in outer appearance, the interior wasn't coming out so pretty either. As I listened to him go on and on, I realized he had drunk the entire gallon of "I'm a wealthy single black man, I'm a commodity, and women will fall at my feet" Kool-aid.

Luckily, I didn't need to march over and set dude straight. Two of the girls in his crew went ALL the way in on him. One of them went so far as to ask him what he saw when he looked in the mirror. Le Ouch. This began a debate over personal attractiveness - what comprises it, do people really have a good sense of how they look and sound to others and what cancels all of that out. 

For instance, two of the women and one guy at the table said they would date someone less attractive if the chemistry, personality, etc was there. One woman said (predictably) she would date a less attractive man for a little while if he was wealthy enough. (Shocker) Then the conversation devolved into whether a woman with a great body but an okay face would "rate higher" than a woman with a gorgeous face and bad body. I had to go at that point. They were starting to dissect people into body parts. No thank you. 

So this got me thinking about you, BougieLand. Where do you rank yourself on the attractiveness scale (no, I won't use numbers) and how important are looks when rating someone's overall attractiveness? Let's hear your thoughts, comments, insights and just for fun, here's a poll or two...

Letting go of the past

Life is not perfect but I have very few complaints. I am in a happy place. Got three people hired last week. I started working on a new book, I wrote four articles for an online magazine. I went to an amazing concert (Jill Scott/Mint Condition). I went to an author & artist festival. I read two new good reviews on Sweet Little Lies on Amazon. It was a good week. Except...

I caught up with two friends of mine. The conversations both went the same way. How have you been, well and you. Catch up, catch up, so what's new. And then at a certain point in both conversations, they each brought up the ex-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and asked if I'd spoken with him. When the first friend asked, I just frowned and said "No." and moved on.

When the second friend asked, I got a little ticked off. I said I hadn't spoken with him and had no plans to. And then I stewed over the whole thing for a minute (or fifteen). I haven't dated that guy in over two years. I've dated since him, I've fallen in and out of (and back in) love since him, I'm in a relationship right now. A freaking good one at that. So what's with the bringing up of ex-dude as if we were together yesterday?

I called both of them back and they both gave me bullshiggity versions of  "always thought you two would get back together some day"- really? I was forced to give a little speech. Something along the lines of - I don't mind a little reminiscing but I'm living in the here and now. Either join me or fall back.

BougieLand, do you have people who still bring up your exes from years ago? Still ask you about things you were interested in years ago? Why is is so hard for others to let go of your past when you've moved on? Thoughts, comments, insights?