Dating is the worst. Or maybe I am just the worst at it – sometimes it’s hard to tell.  I’m sure a lot of it has to do with my hatred for small talk. Your mouth is moving about today’s weather and the traffic on the way over here and I just wanna get to the deep stuff. Like, how did you feel when you heard Camille Grammer was leaving Real Housewives? And then how did you feel when you found out she was back? I’m just really bad at the whole thing and I am nearly positive that I will die alone with nothing to show for myself except 550 Big Gulp cups and a large collection of lotions and bath salts. Because I might have some unplanned dreadlocks, but I’m still a damn lady.

The deep stuff is the best. I love hearing about the inner workings of people’s lives. My favorite show was always MTV’s Diary. Ya, T-Boz, I wanna know what kind of jammies you’re rocking to bed and how you act around your big sis. I wanna know all of that. It’s also why I loved Oprah. I’m not satisfied with a 5 minute segment on a late-night talk show. I wanna spend the whole hour with Julia Roberts. I wanna see her house. I wanna hear her talk to her agent on the phone. I wanna found out about the secret ingredient in her famous gumbo. I mean, I live for that behind the scenes mess. But no one wants to get behind the scenes with me on the first date. Get yo’ mind outta the gutter. What I mean is, people keep it all surface for too long. I’m the same way with my girlfriends. We are either best friends and ready to go on a cross-country road trip and start a business together within 5 minutes of meeting, or we are forever stuck in acquaintance territory.

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