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Monday, April 18, 2011
Dating and Mating / Don't Quote Me Training your man is like training your dog
Posted By Brittney Cason on Mon, Apr 18, 2011 at 1:55 PM
Men are like dogs.
No, no, I'm not saying men are dogs — just like them in the sense that they have to be trained. He's not like a puppy you have to house break because he knows how to hold his dick. And I'm sure he's not looking for a pissing contest (so don't give him one). But you do have to train him as to how he can treat you.
Just like a dog owner will train his puppy not to piss all over the carpet, you have to train a man not to piss all over you. Because if you let him treat you like you're a dog, he will.
Cesar Millan wrote in his dog training bibles that "there are no bad dogs, just bad owners." Just like there aren't bad children, just bad parents. Well, perhaps there aren't bad boyfriends, just bad girlfriends. Because why are you his girlfriend if he's bad? Men are even far more expendable than dogs.
Let's say for example, if he's used to living alone, he may be a little particular about you being around all the time. You don't want to piss all over his place to mark your territory. But you need to lay down your ground rules of what you will and will not accept in terms of how he welcomes you in his life.
Why is he a straying dog burying bones in someone else's yard? I hate to say it, but it could be because you let him get away with it. Granted, some men are just dogs. But most of them aren't, and they're looking for a loving home. Men need to be nurtured, like a puppy ... and fed like one, too.
Just like some dogs are difficult to tame, you can train a wild one to settle down. But you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Some guys just have bad role models for how to treat a woman ... it's not your fault, unless you put up with it.
Just like it's not my adult dog's fault he yanked his leash out of my grip and charged at another dog, only to end up getting bitten. It's my fault for letting him get away with everything when he was a puppy. He wasn't a bad dog, I was a bad owner. And I have comes to terms with the fact that my cheating ex-boyfriend wasn't the only bad one in our relationship. I let him get away with everything, leaving me with nothing ... except a big vet bill from my dog's surgery.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Dating and Mating / Shit Brittney Says In guy years, 22 is really 15
Posted By Brittney Cason on Fri, Apr 15, 2011 at 10:15 AM
The following exchange took place between me and a strapping young lad one night at Red Rocks in Birkdale. Emphasis on the word "young."
Dude: "You should let me take you out to eat."
This which he says, not asks, as I'm in the process of eating at a table full of my girlfriends.
His cock-blocking friend: "He's only 22!" (shouted from across the bar)
Me: "crunch. crunch. crunch." (I finish chewing my food to at least be polite enough to not talk with my mouth full.) "As much as I enjoy eating, I'm sorry, I can't go out with you. You're only 22. That's like ... 15 in guy years. And that's illegal."
One of my girlfriends burst out laughing and proceeded to spit her drink out all over the table (and my plate). I should have taken him up on that meal, right then and there. Meanwhile, another girlfriend tweeted my quote with the hashtag #sh!tbrittneysays.
... What? At least I'm not saying men are like dogs by making them age up. Women just mature faster than men, and therefore age faster as well. Sucks for us.
I really would feel kind of like a pedophile to date a guy barely legal to hang out with me. I didn't even go to frat parties when I was in college, let alone now.
Or maybe it was just the way the guy handled himself like a rookie — interrupting a girls' dinner to tell me he'd like to take me to do what I was in the process of doing while he interrupted me. Even last year's Panthers' offense had better game. I'm pretty sure his boys just double-dog dared him to come talk to the cougar. I am cougar, hear me roar!
But the best part of this whole story is Michael Waltrip's tweet in response to it ...
(Re-Tweeting) @mw55 Does that make me low 30s ish?..RT @BrittneyCason: I can't go out with you, you're only 22. That's like..15 in guy years. And that's illegal!
... I guess it does. Lucky dog.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Sex and the Queen City Change of outlook, change of view
Posted By Brittney Cason on Thu, Apr 14, 2011 at 12:57 PM
I use to live Uptown on the corner of Speed Street and Taste of Charlotte. I would lay in my bed, kept awake by the alternating blinking lights on the Martini building, combined with the sounds of stage crews building some set in the parking lot under my balcony.
Now, the sound and lighting effects in my life merely include a quiet breeze and sunset over Lake Norman.
While my outlook on life went from party girl to domestic diva in training, my view went from a city skyline to a star filled sky reflecting off calm water. From the bustling urbania to the slow suburbs I go, and from girl to woman I grow.
I guess when your outlook on life changes, you have to change your view to match. With a change of pace comes a change of place ... or maybe I'm just getting old and crotchety and need more sleep. Either way, I am loving my new view, and new outlook.
But I can tell you the lake boys are no different from the Uptown ones.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Happy Hump Day Attack of the killer Jamaican tampons
Posted By Brittney Cason on Wed, Apr 13, 2011 at 12:56 PM
As mentioned in a previous blog post, I recently went to Jamaica for a documentary on Bob Marley's family and Marley Coffee.
Being a frequent flyer, I have my packing down to a science. To avoid extra fees and the loss of control over my belongings, I only take two carry-ons: a rollerbag and an expandable book bag. I guess I just don't like to carry a lot of baggage in any aspect of life.
I had to fly to Jamiaca by way of Indianapolis, following a fundraising event for Shane Hmiel. So I fit two weeks of luggage, for dramatically different climates, into a carry-on. I always knew that playing Tetris for hours on end as a child would pay off.
However, somewhere on my layover in Miami, in the time that I handed my rollerbag to the flight attendant in the breezeway of the airplane to the time we landed in Kingston, my bag went MIA. American Airlines lost my carry-on bag. My CARRY-ON, that was already on the plane! That takes effort — they had to physically take it off the plane and misplace it in order to lose it.
"Soon come," everyone told me in Jamaica. "No worries, your bag soon come."
Day 2 of not having my bags, I'm still wearing the clothes I'd worn in Indy where it was snowing (it was 100 degrees in Jamaica), a sweat-soaked bra, and hand-washed thongs. I had to go to the Catch-A-Fire boutique at the Marley Museum and buy a dress ... a dress with a picture of Bob Marley smoking a joint on the front of it. As I was changing, I noticed that while my bags never came, my period still did. And all my tampons were stashed away in my missing carry-on bag.
I had to get a native to take me through Kingston in search of tampons. We went to a little local store and all they had were foreign brand tampons.
With only two other options: shoving TP into my dirty panties, or ruining the only clothes I had to wear, I bought the Jamaican brand of tampons that were one size fits all ... super.
I screamed when I inserted it. A loud scream of physical pain, worse than losing my virginity. That thing made the American super tampon look like a drinking straw. It was massive, and I'm pretty sure I ripped something. Let's just say that when my bags did finally came, three days after I got to Jamaica, I was the happiest to get the normal sized tampons.
I of all people in particular enjoy sampling cultures; I think I get off on culture shock even. But ladies, tampons are an exception to this rule. Always pack some when traveling internationally. Always. Take my word for it, I feel like I got raped by cotton. I mean, how big are the guys in Jamaica that the women need tampons that big?
In the meantime check out my girl Christina with Wealth TV.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Dating and Mating The Tiffany&Co. cheating boyfriend refund policy
Posted By Brittney Cason on Mon, Apr 11, 2011 at 4:12 PM
Recently, I was voted into the top 5 Stylish for Charlotte Style Magazine. The only thing I can think of is that they like my main accessory — the giant freckle of a birthmark under my left arm, shown here on the cover.
Don't tell them, but my style secrets include shopping at Target, making sure I don't have any visible boogers, and smiling a lot. Therefore, it took an army to get me ready for the Charlotte Style Week kick-off event at Mercedes Benz Saturday night: Larry at Salon Vivace, Adrian Howe of Beauty Sophisticate Make-up Artistry, who painted my face on like it was her canvas, Effie at Lotus (who just re-opened her store in Metropolitan), and my intern Jordan, who helped me perform my booger check.
The next morning was another Style Week event: Breakfast at Tiffany's. A literal, actual breakfast at Tiffany's ...
Orange You Glad Catering offered shrimp and grits, and having a shellfish allergy I always feel discriminated against at parties. But I ate enough little spinach bites to fill me and Popeye up. And this cake by Silver's Sweets Bakery.
When I looked at the offerings of engagement rings inside the glass display cases ... I still felt nothing. Not even a tingle. Perhaps my biological clock is out of order.
I started shooting the shit with one of the clerks and told her I had a jewelry box full of Tiffany's jewelry hidden under all my costume crap. I told her I wanted to get rid of it because my cheating ex gave it to me, but I didn't want to return it and give him the advantage of it going back on his credit card.
She said if jewelry is returned under a certain time period, they'll give you store credit for it. So we can go trade in our souvenirs from our failed relationships for new bling.
Thank you Tiffany's, for the cheating boyfriend refund policy.
For a full list of Charlotte Style Week events go to.... this link.
(Photography by Erin Hubbs)
Friday, April 8, 2011
Dating and Mating Is dating going out of business?
Posted By Brittney Cason on Fri, Apr 8, 2011 at 3:14 PM
This makes me sad ...
Seriously.
Not only does this closing Borders in Hollywood represent my business going out of business, but it's taking away a place to meet quality people. As if dating isn't hard enough, now I'm losing the place I go to meet men. The economy is bad for dating, too!
I wandered in to search for cultured, well-read dorks on the clearance shelf. And all I met were a bunch of aspiring actors loitering in the audio book and Self Help sections.
When they say "everything must go," do they mean the written word as well? It's such a fleeting art. Last Thursday on NBC's 30 Rock, a little girl pointed at her mom and asked what a newspaper stand was, in which a homeless guy responded, "It's a toilet."
I felt inspired to yell with Tina Fey's character, "The written word is not dead!"
I didn't meet a guy in the bookstore, but I did get the new Tina Fey book, Bossypants ... one step closer to crazy cat lady. Too bad I hate cats.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Dating and Mating The portrait of a perfect date ...
Posted By Brittney Cason on Thu, Apr 7, 2011 at 12:06 PM
See exhibit A: a picture from my last date. I was feeling enchantment on Enchanted Rock.
Might I suggest taking a date hiking at the White Water Center, or for a boat ride on Lake Norman? Because a date day is even better than a date night.
As for the person on the other end of those hairy legs (the male's, that is) — that's a guy I actually met on tour with Tucker Max while visiting Walter Reed Army Medical Center. He was a patient, and now he's hiking. Miracles do happen — such as him recovering and me having a date.
And regarding those tennis shoes that resemble nurse shoes ... all I have to say is, don't go hiking in Reebox Easy Tones, unless you have a membership to Massage Envy — or in Charlotte, know Jen at Drift Spa. Or better yet, have a wounded soldier to heal your wounds. :wink:
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Happy Hump Day 'It make you have baby'
Posted By Brittney Cason on Wed, Apr 6, 2011 at 3:01 PM
Last week I joined Wealth TV to Jamaica to shoot a documentary on Bob Marley. While at the Bob Marley Museum in Kingston, we visited "The Juice Man." He was Bob's personal holistic healer (or Jamaican witch doctor, if you will) that has some sort of magical potion to cure just about every ailment.
His most popular medicinal concoction: Sperminata.
"It make you have baby!" he exclaimed.
"I'm good thanks, think I'll stick to this Kambucha drink you made for my kidneys," I replied.
"Men shouldn't drink this without a lady queen around," he added.
It's like the holistic form of Viagra. The juice man's concoction of aloe, ginger, roots and spices I can't pronounce, and a secret ingredient will literally increase your sperm count and libido. No wonder Bob had so many children!
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Shit Brittney Says A dream wedding
Posted By Brittney Cason on Tue, Apr 5, 2011 at 12:14 PM
Most young girls dreams of their wedding day. And right now they're all dreaming of Kate Middleton's, for the fairytale royal wedding is coming up April 29. "What will the future princess wear?" is the big pressing question, and vendors are capitalizing on royal wedding "collectibles" from stamps to dolls — there's even a royal wedding refrigerator ... why?!
I hope they run the commercials for these products during episodes of Hoarders, because I can't think of any other market for such collectible crap.
Call me crazy (which you have every right to do) but I never had those childhood fantasies of my wedding day. Here's what I imagine my wedding day to be:
ME: "Hey baby what do you want to do today, since we both have the day off."
HIM: "Wanna go to courthouse and get married?"
ME: "Sure, can we go to Chick-Fil-A after?"
... and they lived happily ever after
Monday, April 4, 2011
Sex and the Queen City / Random.com / Free Shit The hottest girls in the NBA are in Charlotte
Posted By Brittney Cason on Mon, Apr 4, 2011 at 9:51 AM
Last year, the Lady Cats were officially named the hottest dance team in the NBA ... 'cause they're from Charlotte, duh. Well, we need to keep them winning, as it's time for the 2011 NBA dance team bracket competition. Let's support our hometown hotties and cheer on our cheerleaders.
VOTE HERE between 2 p.m. on Monday through 2 p.m. Tuesday ... or here.
If you vote, you can see the Lady Cats special burlesque video via Bobcats.com. And if you send me your voting confirmation to brittney.cason@creativeloafing.com, I will put you in the drawing for lower level tickets to the April 6 Bobcats vs. Orlando Magic game, in the 100 section ... which is pretty much the first row.
The Charlotte girls are using their talents against South Beach, to defeat the Heat. But they need your help. So vote, damn it! We only have 24 hours.
Meanwhile, you can get tickets to the Orlando game via Charlotte's MS Society. Just go to this site and enter the code BOBCATS and $5 from every ticket goes to the Multiple Sclerosis Society!
