Short, Dark and Handsome.

"So, there's this guy that wont stop talking about you!" my homegirl said the other day. "Smart, rich, sexy..." "Is he tall?" I interrupted. I wanted to know. Because after years of, giving men that are complete lames, a chance, I've owned up to being picky lover. If he's over 5'7'', he better have one hell of a pe- I mean, "personality". Or better yet, a fine ass short friend.

Sure, I know it's kind of shallow to judge a man by what his height is, but I can't help it. I'm only 5'5'', and I'm attracted to men who are close to my height. I don't think there is anything wrong with it. There are all kinds of equally superficial reasons people are turned on and off by people. My friend Jess will only date a man if he has a full head of hair. My other homegirl Gab insists he atleast have a six pack. Measuring a man's attractiveness in vertical inches may be superficial, but at least it's a feature that lasts a lifetime.

I've always wondered about women who want their men to be ball player height, at least 6'2''. Maybe they dont feel uncomfortable looking their guy in the eye? Do they feel too big and want to feel smaller? Maybe it's some kind of daddy fixation. Or maybe they are just like, fuck it, the dude doesn't listen anyway, so why not just talk to his chest?

Perhaps some women can't handle the male physique. They are only capable of dealing with one body part at a time. Personally, I like to have everything within easy reach. Kissing is a lot more fun when you're not getting a cramp in your neck. And for a the ultimate sexual experience, you just can't beat having lips, nips and hips all match up at once. There's a special intimacy that comes with being the same height as your lover. Visually, your perspective is the same. You truly see each other eye to eye. And with lips so close to ears, you can easily whisper sweet nothings to him, even in public places.

There's a sense of exhibitionism that comes into play, too. You and your boo are always so perfectly aligned, so perfectly matched up, so its easy access. Clothes are all that keep your bodies from touching in all the right places.

There is a special youthfulness about short men. Most retain their boyish looks well beyond boyhood. The aging back problems that plague their taller brothers aren't as common among short men. Gravity is kinder to them. And, of course, sex just fits better. Being the same height makes it possible to do complicated positions without being super flexible. Standing sex is easier when your legs are the same length.

Depending on which study you believe, the average penis size is somewhere between 5 and 6 inches. But the difference in average penis size for a 5'4'' man and a 6'4 ''one is only half an inch!

Perception makes all the difference. Does he pull out six inches or is he packing some 9 inch heat? Is size predictable? Not really. At least I don't think it is. Sure you can look at feet and fingers. Big thick fingers will almost guarantee that you'll get something big and thick. Short, tall, fat or thin doesn't seem to make a reliable difference in predicting penis size. Tight pants make for nice packaging visual, but make most men look kinda gay(Ie:Kanye West).

With the family jewels, like fine jewels, the setting is key. A man's body is sort of a background display for his dick. And it works like an optical illusion. Big body + average penis =Ehh..Okay. Average body + average penis = average. Really short guy + average penis = Hot Damn! This is the guy who looks like he's got a third leg.

You can't stereotype penis size. Personality size, however, is something else. There is some truth to short guys being loud, obnoxious and more aggressive. Since childhood, they've had to speak up to be noticed. What they lack in height, they make up for in might and wit. Little boys who are small for their age are usually the biggest troublemakers and smartasses. They may not beat up on other kids, but they're the ones they stay instigating shit. The smart ones become champions at verbal ether. Some even manipulate the larger boys into causing trouble.

As short boys grow (hopefully not too much), they can use those people skills to get ahead in the world. Some will appear taller as they develop a bigger bank account.

I've always believed that all men can be masculine. But short men have their masculinity in a stronger, more concentrated form. Yes, they can sometimes be extra explosive -- it's a matter of contents under pressure. Napoleon is a perfect example. Short dude with a high-testosterone, full-of-fight personality. And he had a reputation for being one very horny mofo. That picture of him standing with his hand tucked into his coat? My guess:he was actually grabbing his dick. It reached all the way up there.

My friend, who wanted to hook me up with dude, finally admitted that the man was 6'2''. He had seen me at a party a while back. I, not looking in his direction (up), hadn't even noticed him. "But he sure noticed you," she said. "He's been going on and on about your how gorgeous you are. He told me he dreams of taking you out and sweeping you off your feet. Stop being a bitch, Please, he's been begging and begging me to introduce you."

Begging? I thought. Oh, fuck it. All men are short when they're on their knees.

Too blind to see? Maybe..

Recently, I was on the phone complaining to my old lover after another disastrous date.

Okay, wait, maybe I’m being a little dramatic.

He’s not my old lover AT ALL and the date wasn’t that bad. Old Lover is an "old friend" and the date? Turns out Mr.Perfect has three kids and he hadn't seen them in three years even though they live one borough away. Can you say DEADBEAT? SMDH.

So old lover asks if this is the same guy who I met at my friends b-day party(Second Date Syndrome dude). It’s not. SDS fell by the wayside too. Good dude, but he was only appealing to me with a few drinks in my system and since I'm trying to cut down on the alcohol, it just wouldn't have worked.

I get asked about other people I’ve mentioned to the old lover in passing since we became "just" friends late last year. The lovely specimen who had worse grammar than my 6 yr old cousin, the white boy, the industry guy who... Hold up. Actually, there’s nothing wrong with him… except the fact that he’s in the industry.

Old lover listens intently, pointing out more flaws that I seem to have forgotten about these dudes. Then he goes into how he still has my ring and my watch and I need to come through to his new spot to get them.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m outside his new apartment. The first thing he says when I walk in: "My baby's home."

I roll my eyes at him and take off my blazer and hold it in my arm, still holding my bag around my shoulder. I'm not staying long.

"You know I don’t like when you be going out with these other lames." He had this smirk on his face when he said it, so I couldn’t tell if he was serious or joking.

He’s acting real wierd. I roll my eyes again.

I watch him as he sits down the couch and starts flipping through channels.

"Can I get my jewelry?"

He just looks at me. "Sit down for a sec. You want some iced tea or something? "

"Err-So you think I'm staying?"

"You shouldn’t have left in the first place."

I sit down on the couch and snatch the remote from him, and start flicking through the channels.

"Babes, why aren’t we together?" He asks like it's a question I should have been expecting.

I stop flipping channels for a second, but still don't look him in the face. "What?"

"You heard what I said. I know I didn't stutter."

"Umm..'Cause your the homie." HBO, MTV, Oxygen...

He snickers. "Stop lying to yourself."

Um? "So what the hell do you think we are then?"

"When you need something, who do you call?"

Yay! Family Guy re-runs on TBS. "Not always, it depends on what I need."

"Stop being like that."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Then he takes the remote and turns off the TV. Oh lawd! I give in and finally look at him, giving him the undivided attention he clearly wants.

"When you need something, you call me. When someone else f*cks up, you call me to fix it."

I quickly grab a magazine from the side table. Oooh Michael Jordan on SLAM! "What do you want me to say?"

"No, just listen to me." He snatches the magazine out of my hand and puts it back on the table. And once again I give him my full attention.

"You need someone to talk to? You always call me. You feel lonely? I’m here. You got a problem? I always get it fixed, you hear me?"

I nod in agreement. "I hear you but,where are you going with this?"

"If I’m the one you always run to, why did you even break up with me? Now I live 20 minutes away from you, you can't make that "inconvenience" BS excuse either."

I thought, What the hell?! but I didn’t mean to blurt it out.

"Think about it. It makes so much sense." Damn, now this mofo is staring at the table like it's going to talk back to him. "We chill, we talk, we make eachother smile, we never argue. I have really intense feelings for you. And you can front, but I know you're feeling me too."

"You think I'm feeling you huh?" I ask jokingly, trying to pretend like it wasn't a serious conversation.

"Would you be here if you didn’t?" He is not playing.

POW! IN MY FU%*IN FACE!

Touche.

"So what do you think?" He takes my hand and I look at our fingers intertwined, then look up at him. For the first time in a long time, I think about us. He makes valid points. He’s dependable, convenient, sweet, sexy. I’m definitely attracted to him. We don’t really argue like we used to and he is pretty damn sexy. (My bad, Did I already tell you that?)

"Yea, I don't know. You just come at me out of the blue with that sh%t."

"Out of the blue?" He nods, presses his lips together and does the LL. "So I just want you to think about it? I’m so serious."

He reaches for the remote, leans back and puts on a movie. The opening scene to 'A Bronx Tale' comes on.

"A Bronx Tale, Word?" I looked up at him and smiled.

"Don't you love this movie?"

"I never told you that."

He laughs. "You told me your dvd was scratched and to look for it that time I was at best buy, so I just figured it was."

He signals for me to lean on his shoulder. I get us some iced tea, cut the light and then I snuggle into him. Why the hell haven't I thought of dating him before? It makes a lot of sense. But real talk, it never even crossed my mind since we agreed to be nothing more than just friends from the get go.

Could I date him though? How is it any different than what we already have?

I couldn't stop smiling for some reason, I turned to him and, look up at his face.

He looks down at me, kisses my forehead. "Keep thinking about it. No rush."

Opposites Don't Attract.

Somewhere in my weekly evaluations of my life , I had an epiphany about my asshole ex and every other Mr. Wrong I dated and mated.

On some level, I was dating who I was at the time.

It is kinda hard to imagine that, given the parade of losers that have made pit stops in and out of my life.Sad, but true.When I met my ex aka “Jerk”, I was a mess. I was a broken, irresponsible, lost person who would seek comfort not from my friends, but from liquor. I was also pretty damn selfish not giving a shit what anyone thought or how I made them feel. And the only real difference between me and “Jerk” was the degree to which we were both drinking, broken, irresponsible, lost and selfish.

I looked better. I smelled better. I had a degree. But on a certain level, “Jerk” and I had a lot in common: We were both selfish alcoholics who didn’t give a shit about anything anymore, tarnished from past relationships and betrayal from friends, scorning the world without any real good reason.

Opposites don't attract. The head on the coin and the tail on the coin look different on the surface, but they're made out of the same material and they're hiding out in the same wallet.Are you dating a lame? Someone who you know isn’t good for you? Someone who seems to be your complete opposite? Someone you keep asking yourself why you ever even started dating?

Chances are, you're probably dating your own insecurities, your own disappointments, your own unsettled issues. And the longer you stay in the relationship, the more deeper your problems and insecurities will be.

Make the switch. Cut him off. ASAP.

I did.

Since we are already on the topic...

Here is some insight on the topic from my buddy 'ol pal Deshair. And of course, as always, I co-sign with everything he has to say in this piece. Definitely a good read. Let me know what you think.

The Socialite: The “M” Words

Written by Deshair Foskey

The other day, I was talking to a colleague of mine about the “M” word; yes, marriage. She opened up to me on her feelings about it and how she had it all planned out from when she’d like for it to happen, where it will happen, and how many people will attend. The only problem was that she doesn’t have a special someone in place to fulfill her master plan. Once our trip into her world of gumdrops, candy canes and ponies was over, she needed a male’s perspective.

Natalie: So Deshair, do you ever think about getting married and having children one day?

Deshair: I thought about it on a few occasions. I never flood my mind with it though. I don’t look at it as some type of mission to accomplish.

Natalie: What do you mean?

Deshair: The story that you just laid on me about your dreams of marriage is more fantasy and more of a dream than actual reality. You want to be married by the age of 29, purchase a nice home with white picket fences, and have your second child by age 31, blah, blah, blah. Sounds more like you’re lining up your strategies for war than anything else.

Natalie: C’mon, there’s nothing wrong with having it all planned out. A girl can dream can’t she?

Deshair: Well yea, as long as your reality isn’t blurred by it. You’re 27 and don’t even have a steady boyfriend. Yet you already have the life of your next boyfriend planned out. Honestly, I don’t like that sh*t. I don’t want to have my life planned out for me before a first date even happens.

Natalie: I hear you.

Deshair: Look, whether you realize it or not, that dream of yours will cause you to think outside of what’s in front of you. What will happen if you’re 28 and you don’t have a man in your life? You’ll be so up in arms to find you a husband that you’ll take just about anything that comes your way.

Natalie: It ain’t even like that Deshair.

Deshair: Really? So if you’re not married by 29, you won’t be disappointed, even a little bit.

Natalie: Well, yes, I would be, but…

Deshair: Then it is like that. Natalie, marriage should not under any circumstances be a mission to accomplish. If it happens when you’re 32, let it happen then. There are certain things in life that you shouldn’t plan all the way out. And the day of your marriage, without being a fiancée in the first place, is one of them.

Once that conversation ended, I began to analyze similar conversations I’ve had in regards to marriage, or at least the pitfalls that comes with it. The Jagged Edge hit ‘Let’s Get Married’ ran across my mind as to where people may have subliminally caught the wrong message. Lyrics like, “Meet me at the alter, in your white dress / We ain’t getting no younger, we mind-as-well do it.” I understand what they are saying, but I wouldn’t suggest making this song your nuptial manual.

Statisticians wonder why the rate of divorce is at an all-time high. I’ll give you a not so obvious reason why. Some couples look at marriage as the 100 meter dash to the alter. The yellow tape at the end of the race which symbolizes victory when broken is the wedding day. Once the honeymoon is over, the mentality becomes, “Now that I have him/her, I can kick back, relax and slack off.” Sounds like a good reason for a marriage to fall apart to me.

A love that can last forever isn’t a 100 meter dash; it is a marathon that you train for everyday up until the time of the race. Marriage begins the moment that the gun goes off, signifying the beginning of the race. And if you have trained hard enough, 26 miles later, you’ll cross the finish line of, “til’ death do us part.”

So ladies, lets get back to the “Marriage on the Brain” segment. Ever wondered why you ran a guy off early? Bringing up marriage too early, even in the hypothetical form can do just that. You see, it’s not like men are completed throwed by commitment. Men just don’t want to have their entire life planned out for them; living up to expectations that are built for a storybook. Commitment is built on a free flowing line of energy, not upon deadlines and/or ultimatums.

Everybody heard the story of the woman who waited forever for her man to propose to her. “We’ve been together for ten years, and we’re still not engaged,” she says. Well if she took the time out to really match up their similarities, their goals and aspirations or lack there-of, she may have realized in year two that marriage wouldn’t be the culmination of the relationship that she was in.

There are women who live by this story. They don’t want to be that female that has waited for so long. But that doesn’t mean that you should force your relationship beyond its limitations at the time out of fear of time lost. When you take a chance on anything, you’re taking a risk. Finding your forever love doesn’t come without taking risks. And the last thing that you want to do is push away someone special in your life because you fear ending up like this woman you’ve heard about.

Let’s work on eliminating some of the stress that we’re creating upon our own situations. Let’s get to know one another. Let’s communicate and come to realizations. I am not in any way saying to have a “Whatever happens, happens” attitude. I am saying that you should open up your mind to the truth in front of you.

Tips from the Socialite

-Whatever you’ve done to make someone happy, you must maintain it to keep them happy.

-There’s nothing wrong with having expectations. Just be sure that you’re expectations are realistic to your current connection.

-Try your best not to show the “M” on your forehead. The actual race comes a distant second to the preparation for it.

Why Do Women Feel They Need To Be Married?

I understand the legal reasons and benefits of being married, but I cant figure out what happens to a couple after marriage to make so many people go through with it. Does it make you feel more fulfilled? Are your reasons because of some type of religious belief, and if so I gotta ask weren't you fucking, sucking and all the other stuff before you got married, so where was your religion then? ? Is the thought of being called Mrs. somebody that important to you?

I understand, back in the day, as a result of lack of education women were expected to marry in order to find someone to support them. Especially since they did not have the knowledge to do many jobs. This leads us into the social and financial pressures that resulted in women getting married. This certainly is not the case today.

I bet you if I asked 5 guys the 7 most important things they plan to do in life, marriage wont even break the top 10 list for majority of them, but ask 5 women, who aren't bitter, the same question, and its on their to do list for of life somewhere before or after having a kid. Not saying there is anything wrong with this, but I'm just curious.

Personally, heres what I think. Biologically, the older you are, the less likely you are to have children. So naturally an older woman looks less appealing to a man who is looking to have a child. And a woman who is single is seen as undesirable because something must be wrong with her for someone to not be with her. You throw in the fact that America is based on protestant beliefs of which the laws are built (i.e. marriage being seen as more valid than just relationships), and you have your answer...BECAUSE SOCIETY SAYS SO.

You arent good if you dont have kids by a certain age, you arent good if you are alone, and you arent good if you arent valid in the eyes of the law. So many women feel the pressure and dont feel they are worthy until they are married. They feel like others see them as undesirable or they may see themselves as undesirable.

What are your thoughts?

Hangover+Extra Dose Of Regret=Not a Good Look

Most people who know me refer to me as the "lush" of the bunch. I always know all the good drinks at whatever bar/restaurant we are at. I love a good cocktail. However, I DO NOT love to get so sloppy drunk that I have to be carried out of the bar by people. That is just not cute.

When we are tipsy, thoughts are all over the place in our brains, slip out of our mouths, and we tend to lose control of what we say or do. In a world that values self control, its nice to have that pass to act up and do what we normally wouldn't do. We've all been known to act a little crazy and smile a little harder when we are drunk. Almost like our alter ego comes out after a couple of drinks.

I can't sit here and preach to you and ruin your good time. But I want to make it clear, that messing round with random men when you're drunk can be a dangerous game. When we are drunk, we are more likely to sleep with people we would never even think about sleeping with; we risk doing dumb shit like confessing our undying love for our boss or not using protection. Hormones tend to do the walking for us. And next morning, we may wake up with massive hangovers, feeling regret and shame about our actions the night before.

The tipsy hookup can be fun when executed right. You may feel a little more relaxed and uninhibited after two shots. Take 5 shots, though, and your setting yourself up for a nice bowl of next-day regret. After one drink, most females embrace their inner pornstar but after 5, we might get a little sloppy which is definitely not cute. Studies have shown that sexual performance, along with other motor coordination skills, declines at a blood alcohol content of .06 to .10. You'll be less sensitive to stimuli and less coordinated at providing stimuli. If you're male, you may be less able to maintain an erection and achieve an orgasm.

And you're obviously not at your peak decision-making capability after more than a few drinks. That same dude who you seen beginning of the night looking a hot mess, might just be looking like tyreses' fine ass after a few drinks. You might regret your choice of partner, the fact that you forgot about your boyfriend or the fact that you did it in the bathroom stall at some club.

Nothing goes worse with a hangover than an extra dose of regret.

A Woman's Relationship With Food

A Woman’s relationship with food can be even more complicated than her relationship with her mother, or for the married woman, more complicated than her relationship with her mother-in-law. Strange as it may seem, many of us feel like we need permission to eat. Just listen to a group of girls at a restaurant and you will see what I mean. More often than not, one of four strange rituals will occur: the justification, the confession, self flagellation or peer pressure.

With justification, a woman will actually present a whole freakin court case for why she is ordering french fries. Take my friend Gabby: " Well, I skipped breakfast today, then I walked to work, and all I had was a granola bar and a Diet Coke for lunch, and I’m getting a salad with low-fat dressing, so i guess I can order the fries, right?" Yea, sure, go ahead,

With confession, ordering french fries is some sorta sin of unrealistic proportions, it requires penance before even eating the fries. My friend Vanessa: "Damn. I am being so bad. I know I really shouldn’t be doing this. I mean, french fries are like the worst thing for you. Ugh! And I was so good all week. Okay, after this, ladies, I’m gonna do two whole hours on the stairmaster. And I’m walking home from the train instead of taking the bus."

Self-flagellation is more direct since it makes the direct link between ordering fries and a fundamental character flaw. "I am so freakin huge, I am just, like, craving french fries," says my girl Sara, "What can I say? I am a total fatass."

Peer Pressure can actually work one of two ways.

In the first scenario, a bunch of women will egg eachother on to order the french fries-even while some opt for salads and mineral water. " Get the frnech fries! Whats the big deal?" we’ll laugh, eager, and falsely dismissive, knowing damn well that the person we are trying to convince to break her diet is really a sacrificial lamb. If she orders the fries, she’ll enable the rest of us to feel superior for not giving in to our cravings, and of course so we can snatch fries off her plate- or live vicariously by watching her eat them.

In the second scenario, we agree mutually to absolve eachother of responsibility and guilt by ordering french fries as a coalition:

"Should we order some fries?"

"Sure, lets get french fries!"

"Why not? Let’s go all out! After all, its Friday!"

Complicated? Yezzir. The way we carry on about dumb shit like french fries, you’d think we were Hamlet. You’d think we were contemplating euthanasia. You’d think it was a career move. Military operations have been launched with less consideration than we give a menu.

Shit, think about it. If we spend this much time comtemplating over a menu, just imagine how much we comtemplate over men/relationships. If that much time is spent thinking about nonsensical stuff, when will we have time to actually enjoy it? Food for thought, right? PUN INTENDED.