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Unknown-1 I’m struggling with whether or not to buy Nicki Minaj’s next album….

I didn’t even know the name of the album until I googled it to write this post, but after hearing a number of singles (for free) from any number of radio stations, websites, and songbirds over the last month, I’m feeling like I just might make a purchase. Oh, but there’s so much to consider.

I buy maybe 3 albums every year. Let’s not discuss how I have such an extensive music collection, but rather let’s talk about why I don’t bother to buy albums.

1) I usually only like 5 songs off of any EP.

2) With so many free ways to get music, making a purchase feels like a political statement I should really think long and hard about.

And 3) Apple already runs my life. Buying one more damn thing from itunes feels like I’m giving in to THE MAN!

What does all this have to do with Nicki Minaj? Not much, except #2. I’m a Barnard woman and I’m not supposed to want to buy music with a song cover that’s this purely hyper sexualized, with no pithy or sarcastic elements to mask it. And she’s got her own misogynist tendencies, which my $40,000 per year education tells me I’m not supposed to appreciate. If I put my money where my mouth is (or ears are), I’m supposed to stand by these feminist principles I paid so dearly for. Lord knows I don’t want my underage daughter or anyone’s for that matter listening to Nicki talk about ass shots, but… I am not my daughter, now am I? I am an adult woman who can appreciate a variety of content, even when packaged in a way that I would normally detest. Herein lies the rub…

Those Jordans are hot. She probably spent a whole $500 on that cover, sneakers included, which shows a business acumen I can appreciate. If it’s her natural butt or not really doesn’t matter to me. And I have a tendency not to like people – men or women – so I can relate to her words. Last, but not least, anyone who openly says they have NOT had sex with Lil’ Wayne is a woman I can believe in. (It seems like all the women he sleeps with have his progeny to prove it.)

Let’s put this all into context. The last albums I purchased were back in February 2014 when I bought three albums in one week. Majestic Casual pt 1, Blurred Lines by Robin Thicke and Rebellious Soul by K. Michelle. The latter 2 were purchased because I got cheap tickets to see them in concert and I couldn’t be the only one in the nose bleeds not knowing the words. And the first one is probably my favorite album of the year! It gets listened to wayyyy more than anything else I currently own. Revisit above reference to my approx. 3 album/ year quota. It’s been met. But, 2015 is just around the corner.

Do I want to start my year off like this?

When she wore a lot of pink and was on that whole Harajaku negress tip, she was so lame to me I had no words to describe how little interest I had in anything she did, said or produced. Now, she’s a human again. She’s got a much needed make under, though she still sounds like an updated/remixed Lil’ Kim from Queens, and I kinda like her. I feel ashamed for even admitting that I want to hear more from “the Minaj,” (as Mama Dee would probably call her) but she shut down Iggy Azalea publicly and it got me to thinking… maybe she stands for something more than a butt squat in really nice customs. Shouldn’t I give her the benefit of the doubt?

I’m an almost 30 year old woman, with more degrees than a thermometer, and I’m trying to figure out what my inclination to spend my first $15 of the new year on tunes of “the Nick” (the other name that Mama Dee might call her) really says about me?

Am I ratchet?

“I don’t want to do any of the crap that means convincing someone that they should want to take me out on a date. I just want to show up at a date.” – Me

So, when I fall out of the loop for a while there are necessary measures I must take to rehearse normalcy. Bull in a china shop comes to mind, or giant in a world full of small people… I could go on, but I won’t. Let’s just say that normal interactions with men have been at all too infrequent intervals since my arrival here on the Indian subcontinent. And unlike in other moments in the not too distant past, I have actually been ok with this reality. (So, un-normal.) That is until the prospect of travel to Madrid, Paris, NYC, NJ, DC and Amsterdam arose. And then, out of nowhere, I felt the overwhelming need to pretend to be the coquettish 20 something I’d pretended to be before I arrived in India.

I was intent to go on a date. But, when you’re the girl who watches Fox Crime and free iTunes TV show pilots on Saturdays, and works on Sundays, you don’t exactly scream “Desirable” #weirdsideeyeandwigglylips. So, I didn’t bother to kid myself. After all, I had a small window of opportunity and my pride is steel plated. There was the idea to finally let some poor sap I’d previously denied have the pleasure of my company, but this year has made me even worse at sitting through other people spewing words I don’t care about. Ixne on the old dude eh.

There was the idea that I should sign up for a match making website, but then reality set in. I can’t do online dating. Indian sites are actually marriage sites and U.S. sites are for people who actually intend to be in the same country long enough to date. Ixne on the web dude eh.

What better way to get a fresh new face to break bread with me without having to actually earn it, or pretend I liked him, or get carpel tunnel syndrome – than to go speed dating? Chaching!

Pure and utter brilliance is this phenomenon – let me tell you. From my (one) experience, I can say that if I were home, I’d do this more. Probably a lot more. Oh man, you know how much more hours of sleep I’d get if I could condense all my bar hopping ‘to meet a nice guy’ into 2 hours on a Wednesday night once every three months? How many fewer covers I’d pay? The reduced percentage of my friends who would have to see me make my eyes pop out of my head as the universal female symbol for ‘save me from this fool, NOW!’? It is so much easier to impress someone when you only talk with him for 4 minutes. And it is so much easier to have a ‘date’ pass by without incident when you know it is only 4 minutes. Let’s just say that I feel revolutionized by this newly discovered tool in my dating artillery.

Did I meet anybody? No, not really. But, that’s not the point! I broke down a bunch of barriers with this first entrée into dating avec speed.

1- No, there were no Black guys at the ‘Globetrotters’ themed session. But, I was one of 4 Black women fishing for a mate (I felt like a stereotype). So I went on about 10 official interracial dates – 3 with Indian guys who all looked at me like “You live in India? Ew. Why?” I think I have a mini crush on an Asian guy from Atlanta who asked me if I had fresh, hot naan in my pocket. I’m not kidding.

2- It was my first double date, though technically the friend who came with me has a boyfriend and told all her dates she was an art dealer (she’s really a doctor).

3- It was my first date at a restaurant where I actually didn’t eat. It was at an Indian restaurant (just my luck!) and the naan actually looked like mini hot pockets. #khannanobueno

See how much speed dating has done for me, personally? I felt so much more normal after being in that, most unconventional, arrangement. I hope that hearing my testimony will motivate you (if you’re like me) to give this process a shot. I can now say that I went on a date with a 40 year old S.W.M. who is a writer for 30 Rock. And what better travel memory can supersede that bundle of joy? I’m just sayin.’ For 30 bucks why not cut to the chase and date 10 guys at once, and not feel bad if they don’t buy you a drink or feel guilty that you don’t want to talk to them after they do?

I smell a revolution brewing. Anybody with me?