Why Being a Mistress is a Dumb !#%$ Idea

1. Because it is!

Ladies and reforming women of ill-repute, there may come a time in your life, especially as  a young woman where you meet a man who seems handsome, charming, wealthy and exciting because he is completely into you. He brazenly displays his interest in you and only you, and his selectiveness and intensity sets your heart aflutter.  Finally, Prince Charming has arrived in all of his splendor on his white horse. And he's so perfect that he glistens in the sun... glints of light reflect off of him and he sparkles like a diamond.

No mami. That is a diamond... IN his wedding band. The son of a bitch is married and has the gall to be all over you like he's ready to take you home to meet his mother! He's whispering sweet nothings and yet your stomach begins to turn like his breathe actually smells like the shit he's talking.

He's as slick as a used car salesman ... he's selling you, on why this "arrangement" is no different from anything else. Maybe he travels for work and can be available to you five days a week and most weekends because he rarely goes home, or things are sooooo bad (or good) at home that he can do whatever he wants right under her nose  and it won't interfere with this sweet, tender love you will have going on.  He's talking so much bullshit, you wait, expecting his teeth to rot and fall out.

Don't let Olivia Pope fool you, stolen moments are exactly that. Stolen. Not from her, but from you.  You're stealing moments that you could be having with someone who really likes you enough to make you the One. Are you tuning me out? you don't want to hear the moral crap? Well, if you aren't here for a sermon, and could care less about morality and sentimental things like weddings and declarations of love before the sight of God and man, then allow me to break it down from an economical purview.

Even if he buys you a Louis Vutiton purse, he's bought her the walk in closet to keep the purse in.  If he's bought you a Rolex, he's given her the effect of time on his investments, retirement and pension, and even if he leaves her, she'll never have to work another day. SHE IS SET FOR LIFE. If he's taken you on a vacation,  then he's bought her a timeshare or vacation home on an island that she'll always have to enjoy. If he's bought you a car, he's given her an attached 3 car garage to keep the car he bought her in.  If he gives you gifts for your kid, he pays for all three of her kids to attend college. No matter how you slice it, you're stealing from yourself! Spending time with him instead of the sap who will do all of this for you.

Now, if he's not gotten any of this for you, you really need to redo your cost-analysis and figure out why the hell you've even wasted your time. The only thing you're getting is D and bubblegum, without the Doublemint! And if he's bought you a home with the 3 car garage, vacation home, and you have access to his pension, or he's invested in your company and you're now a 7 figure chic, please send me an email, because I'd like to interview you for my next article called, "Side Chicks Be Winning."

So ladies, the next time a married man comes up to you and tries to sell you a dream, tell him to show you the money like Jerry Maguire. And if he can't, fuck him and the My Little Pony he rode in on.

Living in DC

There's something quite peculiar about this town. Is it because this is the birthplace of our incredible experiment called democracy? No, perhaps it is the dazzling marble sculptures of great men that line the Potomac River like tinsel on a Christmas tree? Maybe its the imposing robust columns made of limestone that stretch to heaven like sequoia trees and the majestic staircases that roll down the front of entrances like waterfalls. The buildings are exhibitions of inspiration, with intricacy so gifted that only God himself could have inspired it.

The awesomeness of the DC scenery is simply beautiful... cold, hard, white and beautiful...

But mostly cold.

I have much in common with the columns, and sculptures and staircases... Each day... I feel my insides become colder.... harder.... recalcitrant... my smiles, that once used to bubble forth from my heart and dance over my lips.... becomes stiffer.... my soul, once joyously dancing throughout life, has began to slink along ... becoming tired....

Where has my cheerfulness gone? Why do I feel so heavy...

Why has the song in my heart and stride in my step been replaced with a lump in my throat...

I feel as if I'm growing older each day that I live in DC...

Chicago was fun.... honestly, too much fun. I LIVED in the moment without cares or concerns. I Loved and received love in return. I PARTIED until the wee hours of the morning night after night. I had passionate SEX that embedded my lover's name in the crevices of my heart. I experienced heartbreak that stained strands of my hair like the best Mary Jane.  I was spoiled, and adored... I was a girl, enjoying the best of life...

Now, I sit in the back of an office in the supplies closet, just as lifeless as the copier that I sit next to. I dash out the door at 5:00 p.m. on the dot and run home to sleep and escape the boredom of being awake. The pretentious people and their elite parties bore me. The sohpmoric boys who hide unattractive faces behind big titles and government salaries bore me.

My ride on the train to work where I stand body to body, and cheek to cheek next to the overworked, underpaid peon next to me... We are all in a hurry to get to our 8, 9, 10,11, 12- hour slow death sentence... we frantically run at the sight of the next train, we must be on time....borrowed time... time we trade for money like prostitutes... Bumping into each other like sedated animals being herded onto the ramp ...we are just a bunch of sheep on our way to being slaughtered...

It's 65 degrees but I'm cold.

Much like the marble stairs, the statues and the columns, I've turned to stone.

I'm alive in DC, but this is far from my definition of LIVING.