Twanna A. Hines @ FUNKYBROWNCHICK.com | sex. dating. relationships.

It’s Just Dating. It’s Not Like It’s Life or Death, Right?

When it comes to dating, I always feel like I turn right back into that insecure little junior high girl who worries what the cool guy thinks about her. Take the Scandinavian dude, Sven, for example. We’ve been out on four or five dates now. And, I like him. He’s kind, funny, charming, nice, sweet, and a bunch of other really drippy, saccharine things. (And, let us not forget, he’s a cutie pie.) Everything is going well. Very smoothly. No complaints. So, you’d think I’d be all cool, calm, and collected about the whole thing right? Wrong.

If you talk to anyone who has heard me talk about Sven lately, they’d probably tell you that I sound like someone doped up on Crazy Pills. “Okay, so, after kissing me at the end one of our dates he said ‘I love this’. What does that mean?! Does that mean he loves the location? Kissing? Hanging out with me? What?!?!!?” Also, I read too much into things that are probably completely meaningless. For example, during our last date — after I slip and accidentally call him “sweetie” — he stops, looks at me, and then the discussion continues. Me? What do I do? I instantly have an internal freak out. “Wait. What the fuck was that??? He just stopped and stared at me for, like, 3 whole seconds. What does that mean?!?! Does it bother him that I called him sweetie?!”

Obviously, I’m a nut. Why can’t I just relax about dating? … Um … wait … I guess I don’t mean “dating” because … you know … it’s not like Sven and I are “dating”, we just “go out on dates” a lot … And, you know, I like him but we’re not exclusive or anything. I mean, I don’t think we are … We haven’t talked about that. It’s too early, you know? … But, it’s not like I’d mind. … you know … being exclusive and all. But, I’m not even sleeping with him. Yet. I mean … I definitely want to but I don’t think that we should unless we’ve decided to be exclusive … because, you know, I think there’s like relationship potential here. Kind of. Maybe. I hope there is. You know what I mean? Dammit!!!! What the fuck is wrong with me?!?!? Is anyone else out there this neurotic when it comes to dating? And, by the way, Bro says women are more neurotic about this stuff than men are; is she right???

July 31st, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [20] folks got down with the Funky Brown

The World’s Worst Pickup Lines

So, a couple of you emailed to ask what’s up with Sven Johånn Låårssøn. Smooth sailing. Since our first date last week, we’ve gone out together 2 or 3 more times. And, we’ve tentatively made plans to go out again sometime this weekend. So far, so good. We’ll see what, if anything, develops. Maybe he’ll still be around this time next month. Maybe he won’t. It’s still too early to really know anything one way or the other. Right now, all I know is that I really like spending time with him. He’s one of the most laid back people that I’ve ever met. And, he gets bonus points because he’s unbelievably adorable, has a great sense of humor, and is an interesting person who is very well-travelled. And, he’s a cutie pie. And, he’s a good kisser.

But, of course, not every guy that has ever crossed my path has been a catch. Like most of us who live in the Dating World, I’ve met more than my fair share of heinous little trolls. If you haven’t already read Darwin’s post about her loser from the bar, definitely read it. That post inspired me to write this one. Okay, so, here we go … a few of the worst pick up lines that I’ve ever heard:

• “Would you like to come in for tea?” Believe it or not, I actually used to fall for this cheesy stuff. Rewind many many years ago. His name is Geoff. He’s a friend. He’s cute. He’s British. He has a nice accent. He invites me in for “tea.” We have sex.
• “Give it to me bitch.” Okay, this line was actually said to a friend of a friend and not me. But, it is so ridiculous that I simply had to include it in this list. Okay, so, my friend Jen’s friend is out on a first date with this guy. When it comes time for the goodnight kiss, he steps up to the plate and whispers “give it to me bitch” into her ear. Such a charmer.
• “I Ain’t Got No Underwear On.” Where do I start with this guy??? We’re at dinner. It’s the third date. He takes my hand, pulls it across the table, sticks it near his crotch, and says, “Check this out … I ain’t got no underwear on.” Needless to say, I didn’t see much more of that guy after that.

So, tell me: what’s the worst pick up line that you’ve ever heard and/or used?

July 28th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [23] folks got down with the Funky Brown

I’m the FBC, And I’m Running for President

If this is Wednesday, then I must be running for President. A few days ago, the topic of discussion that my friends and I share over wine, chili dawgs, and dessert is: “If you were to run for public office, what would your platform be?” Hmmm, I think to myself, let me think about that one for a moment. And, so, after a couple of days of deep thought about the subject, I’ve come up with a platform of sorts because, well, I clearly have waaaay to much free time on my hands. So, in case you’re interested, here’s my “For the People, By the People” platform.

#1. A “Boy” for the People. I appoint Paul Walker “The National Boy”. How cool is that?! World leaders introduce themselves to him as “Prime Minister”, “King”, “Queen” or “High Grand Pumba” of whatever. And, when they ask Paulie what his job is, the conversation goes something like this:

King of Spain: So, who the fuck are you?
Paul Walker [sticks left index finger into right ear to release trapped ocean water]: What?
King of Spain: Who the fuck are you???
Paul Walker: Um … I think I’m just … you know … [sticks hands in air and makes “air quotes” with fingers] … ‘The Boy’.
King of Spain: What does a “Boy” do?
Paul Walker: [giggles, smiles.]

#2. Wellbeing for the People. Universal healthcare. For all.

#3. Beauty for the People. People like to look at beauty. Beautiful buildings. Beautiful people. Beautiful places, things, objects, and concepts. Therefore, I would make *ALL* major policy decisions (and political appointees) based solely on one question: would this make the world around us more beautiful?

#4. Bling, Bling for the People. Higher Taxes. Yep. You read that right. I’d raise taxes and spend the money on infrastructure. Reinforce the levees in Mississippi, Louisiana, and other vulnerable states. Upgrade the public utilities system so that blackouts are less common. Etc. Etc. Etc. Hell, I’d even run a few PSAs to show off all the wonderful developments that I have in the works. Each PSA would end with the camera zooming in on my smiley, happy face saying: “Yeah, cuz that’s what ya motherfuckin’ taxes are supposed to pay for, bitches! Woot! Woot!”

So, what do you say? Do I have your vote? And, tell me: if you were to run for public office, what would your platform be?”

July 26th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [13] folks got down with the Funky Brown

Stay With Me. I Guess I Have A Point.

I used to hate Sheryl Crow with a passion that I typically reserve for snot-nosed, overpaid, pasty child-stars like Dakota Fanning. But, with time, Sheryl Crow kind of grows on me for three reasons. First, I think her voice is getting better. Next, her personal life clearly shows that she’s one tough chick; I like that in a woman. And, finally, now that I’ve just discovered that she does a cover of Leonard Cohen’s song “Hallelujah”, I like her a little bit more. Do you know this song? It’s filled with ambiguous religious and sexual overtones; you’d be hard pressed to find a more powerfully, gut-wrenchingly sad song. Really, I mean it. Its one of my favorites, and I love it. Now, granted, songs mean different things to different people. But, for me, “Hallelujah” is a song about loneliness.

It’s not some cheery Christian song about “hallelujah, life is good.” Life is, at times, very difficult. And, shit happens—even to the best of us. So, the words to “hallelujah” are actually very sad. There are 15 verses (Sheryl only sings five) and they’re about sex, passion, love lost, fanaticism, etc. Cohen uses words like “cold”, “lonely” and “very broken” to describe “Hallelujah.” It’s just one of those songs. You know—the kind that people rarely sing without true, gritty, raw emotion. And, Sheryl Crow’s cover is no exception. I think I read somewhere that she’s pretty open about her bouts of depression. Supposedly, the first one came after her first engagement ended. Then, again, after tabloids gave the play-by-play of her breakups with Eric Clapton, Kid Rock, and Owen Wilson. And, of course, again after her second engagement (you know, the one with Lance Armstrong) ended just before she was diagnosed with breast cancer.

When Sheryl Crow sings the words to “Hallelujah”, it sounds like she really means it. (Especially that part at the end where she takes an extended pause after, “Now maybe there’s a God above; but, all I’ve ever learned from love is how to shoot at somebody who outdrew you”.) She sounds so sad. And, I don’t know why, but that kind of touches me. So, I thought I’d share the audio* and lyrics with you.

LYRICS – HALLELUJAH – Leonard Cohen
Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
It goes like this the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew her
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Baby, I’ve been here before.
I know this room, I’ve walked this floor.
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch,
But love is not some kind of victory march,
No it’s a cold and very broken Hallelujah.
There was a time you let me know
What’s really going on below,
but now you never show it to me, do you?
I remember when I moved in you,
And the holy dove was moving too,
and every breath we drew was Hallelujah. Maybe there’s a God above,
But all I ever learned from love
Is how to shoot somebody who outdrew you.
It’s not a cry that you hear at night
It’s not somebody who has seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah.

July 25th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [20] folks got down with the Funky Brown

PDAs: “Hell Yeah” or “Fuck No”?

Okay. I’m back. Suddenly, New York just got cooler. Wait, that came out wrong. It’s not cooler because I’m back … you know, I mean, literally, New York got cooler — the temperature dropped. The heat was unbearable earlier this week. I’m surprised that we all survived it. But, then again, we’re New Yorkers. We’re tough. If the crime, pollution, politics, rats, bed bugs, MTA, stress and other things can’t kill us, surely the heat isn’t going to do the job either.

By the way, sorry about my brief absence the other day. I went on another date with Mr. Scandinavian: Sven Johånn Låårssøn. I’ll preface everything by saying: I wouldn’t usually get shitfaced with a guy on a second date. But, I couldn’t help myself — hanging out with Sven is so much fun. It’s like he’s the male version of me, a Male Stolie; so, when we hang out, we can just be goofy together. We grab dinner. We kick back a few beers. We just hang out and talk. No pretension. No games. Just fun. Pure fun. It’s like I’ve met a new friend. A new friend who just happens to be an excellent kisser. And, speaking of kissing … hmmm …. New topic: public displays of affection—the notorious “PDAs”. I discovered this blog post the other day, and I laughed out loud for a good 10 minutes or so. It’s a post about two 30-somethings openly getting it on at a cafe on the Upper East Side. Read the post, and then come back here so we can talk about PDAs. I wanna know what your vote is. In general, how do you feel about PDAs: “hell yeah” or “fuck no”?

—————-
Gratulerer med dagen! (“Happy Birthday” in Norwegian.) Woot! Woot! Guess who joins Club 30 today?!?! All the people of the world sing, “Happy Birthday to AmyD …” Okay, okay, that’s enough attention for AmyD. Back to moi. Focus, people, focus. :-)

July 21st, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [30] folks got down with the Funky Brown

It’s Gettin’ Hot In Herre

Hot town, blogging in the City. Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty. All around me, people looking half dead—walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match heeaaadd!!!! … I can’t take it!!! It’s too hot. Gawd, help us all!!!! It was 100 F ( 38 C) in New York City yesterday. And, today it’s supposed to by worse. Now, I’ve been known to exaggerate but I’m going to be completely honest with you guys right now … I almost melted yesterday. I’m not kidding. I did! It was soooo hot that I thought that I was going to die.

I don’t have an air conditioner. It’s so hawt in my apartment!!!! If I wanted to, I could turn on my oven and go sit in it and it would be cooler than it is on my couch. Denzel (my laptop … you know … smooth, black …) overheated and turned off. He’s angry. He’s hawt, too. I shit you not, every time I turn Denzel on, I have to prop him up on books and then stick one of my icepacks under him to stop him from overheating. I can’t take it!!! Is it this hot where you are, too?

July 18th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [33] folks got down with the Funky Brown

Guess What I Did Yesterday

Welcome to Monday. I hope that you all had a good weekend and that the week is starting off nicely for you. My weekend went really well. Friday and Saturday, I went out with friends and I also hung out at Central Park. On Sunday, I spent the day out and about in the city and … drum roll please … Actually, wait. To shake things up a bit, why don’t you guess what the last bit is? I’ll give you three hints: (1) it doesn’t involve soccer or sex; (2) it does involve a Viking; and (3) if you click the “play this audio post” button that appears below, you’ll have the answer. Ready, set …

  

  

Running time: 1 minute, 27 seconds.

 

 

July 17th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [18] folks got down with the Funky Brown

5 Ways To Survive Post-Cup Depression

WTF?!?! For the first time in almost a month, there will be no World Cup soccer (football) games this weekend. I’m not quite sure what to do with myself. Now that the games are over, I feel a little blue. A little down. I think I’m suffering from Post-World Cup Depression. It hasn’t been properly diagnosed yet, but the signs are everywhere. I wake up and wonder, “who’s playing today?!” I open my dresser drawers and my hand instinctively wanders over to my collection of soccer jerseys. I walk down the streets of New York humming “football’s coming home”. And, perhaps most telling, I have a strong desire to get drunk with boisterous expats at 9 o’clock in the morning. But, there’s hope. In case any of you are going through PWCD too, I thought I’d share a few of the coping mechanism that I’ve adopted to help me get through the next 3 years and 10 months:

#1. Keep the Momentum Going. The time to get ready for 2010 FIFA World Cup South Africa is now! See this movie. Sign up with FIFA’s listserv. Talk to South Africans in your city. Buy your favorite team members’ jerseys. Be strategic. Plan ahead. And, don’t forget: this will be the first time that the games will be held on the African continent. Learn more about the region’s history and politics.

#2. Keep Drinking and Partying Internationally. Hey, the games might be over, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t still get drunk with the international community on a regular basis. Party with the Dutch (NL Borrels), Germans (Goethe), Scandivanians (NordicNights, Scandinavia House), Spanish (Instituto Cervantes), South Africans (Consulate has info) and others year round.

#3. Masturbate. Okay, I won’t go into any details on this one. For now, suffice it to say that the games may have ended, but the images of Zinedine Zidane, Luca Toni, David Beckham, and Thierry Henry live on. And on. And on. And on … Oooooh, Luca baby!

#4. Support Soccer Locally. Believe it or not, all the fellas of the World Cup all play each other in friendly (and other) matches throughout the year. For example, MLS has announced that the US all-star team will play Chelsea on August 5 in the burbs of Chicago. (Names you’ll recognize from Chelsea include: Terry, Cole, Lampard and Ballack.) I’ll admit it, even for me, this is new territory. I’ve always been a Cup Soccer kind of girl. EuroCup. World Cup. But, you know what? People change. And, besides, you get better seats at the local matches. Up close and personal “Soccer Hottie Sightings”.

#5. Commiserate with Fellow PWCD Sufferers. Anyone who has ever been through a traumatic life experience will tell you that it’s best to seek the help and support of others who are familiar with your situation. Find comfort in the arms of friends who love the games as much as you do. Trust me, little campers. We’ll all get through this together.

July 15th, 2006 | Print This Post | link | Email This Post | [1] comment so far