For as long as I can remember, I have been a matchmaker. Sadly, I can not say that I have been the best one or had the greatest results, but it is something that I enjoy doing.
With that being said, I have decided to try and hook-up Taji and Connie. Connie, of course, is the roomie, but I am not sure if I have mentioned Taji before. He is my buddy from high school, one of the few boys in my life that I can tolerate. Muslim. Divorced. Has a kid. Hella smart and really, really light skinned? Not ringing a bell? Anyway, he is cool.
The first stage is over. They have approved of each other's Facebook pictures. I have invited Taji over for dinner sometime next week, and I have to say, I am excited about it.
Why would Connie and Taji make a cute couple? Well, they are both cute. They are both short. They are both cool, and they are both REALLY into sex, to say the least. I smell love in the air:) I shall keep you posted. I have a gut feeling that this is going to work out. However, knowing my life, it could also be a complete and total disaster.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Yesterday ended up not being a complete and total garbage dump of a day after all. My roomie Connie and I went to Atlantic Station. She wanted to get a jump start on her fall shopping. Luckily, I didn't have any dough because I saw TONS of stuff that I wanted at H&M. It was Black Gay Pride, so we sat on a bench and watched all the fab gay men walk up and down the strip in adorable summer outfits, some equipped with makeup and a handbag. We split some queso and chips from Moe's, then headed home when it started to get hot. Yes, it was an awesome day. SO glad that I got out of the house!
Labels:
Atlanta Black Gay Pride,
Atlantic Station,
Connie,
diary,
roommate
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Bad Morning
I can already tell that today is going to be a bad day because my morning is NOT getting off to a good start.
I woke up to discover that since I deposited my check yesterday, I won't be able to have access to my funds until Tuesday morning, after the holiday. Thus, I can not pay my rent...or my phone bill...or buy food! So on this Sunday, which I had previously planned to be AWESOME, I will just be sitting here in my room broke and hungry and come tomorrow, without phone service.
I called my bank and found out the bank has signed me up for overdraft protection, which I told them I didn't want. I know the game- find a way to charge me outrageous fees. The telephone banker tried to convince me that I could make purchases, even though I don't have any cash. Sounded weird to me. I felt like I was getting played, which also ruined my mood.
It isn't even 8:30AM and my mood has already gone south. To try to cheer myself up, I am watching Alfred Hitchcock Presents on Hulu, but I have to say, I don't see this morning turning around, not unless I open the door to find a stack of hundreds.
I woke up to discover that since I deposited my check yesterday, I won't be able to have access to my funds until Tuesday morning, after the holiday. Thus, I can not pay my rent...or my phone bill...or buy food! So on this Sunday, which I had previously planned to be AWESOME, I will just be sitting here in my room broke and hungry and come tomorrow, without phone service.
I called my bank and found out the bank has signed me up for overdraft protection, which I told them I didn't want. I know the game- find a way to charge me outrageous fees. The telephone banker tried to convince me that I could make purchases, even though I don't have any cash. Sounded weird to me. I felt like I was getting played, which also ruined my mood.
It isn't even 8:30AM and my mood has already gone south. To try to cheer myself up, I am watching Alfred Hitchcock Presents on Hulu, but I have to say, I don't see this morning turning around, not unless I open the door to find a stack of hundreds.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Allergic to Negros
Last night I took the train home after going to this event for my job where I was laughed at by two high school girls for no reason. No. Reason.
I said nothing. Not just because I didn't know them and because they were kids, but because I was tired and didn't have the energy or the attire to whoop their asses adequately.
As I have shared with you, I have moved back to East Point, GA where I grew up from Douglasville, GA, a rural area. And I have found that my defenses are now down, you know, the ones I had built to be able to deal with the ignorance I consistently encountered growing up there.
While in college, I became very conscious and Afro-Centric. From freshman year on I have been essentially masterminding how to save the Black community. But yesterday, as I watched these two girls LAUGHING at me TO MY FACE I thought, What am I doing? I don't even like these people! And then, to the soundtrack of their cackling, I felt ashamed of myself. Embarrassed. Saying that I don't like them is like saying that I don't like myself. No matter what I do for a living, no matter where I live, or where I went to college, they are the stock from which I derived. I am the McDonald's worker with the bad hair weave and she, minus the manners, is me. Not sure if this is a good thing. Not sure if I like it. Just the truth.
I said nothing. Not just because I didn't know them and because they were kids, but because I was tired and didn't have the energy or the attire to whoop their asses adequately.
As I have shared with you, I have moved back to East Point, GA where I grew up from Douglasville, GA, a rural area. And I have found that my defenses are now down, you know, the ones I had built to be able to deal with the ignorance I consistently encountered growing up there.
While in college, I became very conscious and Afro-Centric. From freshman year on I have been essentially masterminding how to save the Black community. But yesterday, as I watched these two girls LAUGHING at me TO MY FACE I thought, What am I doing? I don't even like these people! And then, to the soundtrack of their cackling, I felt ashamed of myself. Embarrassed. Saying that I don't like them is like saying that I don't like myself. No matter what I do for a living, no matter where I live, or where I went to college, they are the stock from which I derived. I am the McDonald's worker with the bad hair weave and she, minus the manners, is me. Not sure if this is a good thing. Not sure if I like it. Just the truth.
Sensitive
Last night I called my friend and she told me that she won't be able to talk to me much longer on the phone because she is in medical school now. This hurt my feelings more than it should have and when we got off the phone from a stiff ten-minute convo I felt like I was going to cry. I know, sensitive.
Friends in Low Places
I grew up with a girl named Charnae. For a large portion of my life, I considered her my best friend. But I lost contact with her. She was always changing her number, and sadly, the last time I saw her was at my 22 birthday celebration debacle where she showed up late, came with me and my buds to the Apache Cafe, and was picked up by a guy that was CLEARLY a drug dealer.
The update? Well, roomie said that she heard through the very short ATL grapevine that Charnae is now a prostitute. Sigh. That she hangs out with a girl that I also used to hang with in middle school who is now a mother and a CONFIRMED prostitute. Double sigh.
I wish I could call her. She told me once that she would never lose touch with me because she knew my grandmother's number by heart. But as you know, Granny no longer has a number. She now lives in a nursing home.
I find it so weird how you can start at point A with people and end up in COMPLETELY different directions. There was a time that I wanted to be like Charnae. I wanted to be stylish and have boyfriends and a cute haircut and a bangin' body. Now what? Although I have found it impossible to pray for myself lately I will pray for my old buddy Nay-Nay. It's the least and all I can do.
The update? Well, roomie said that she heard through the very short ATL grapevine that Charnae is now a prostitute. Sigh. That she hangs out with a girl that I also used to hang with in middle school who is now a mother and a CONFIRMED prostitute. Double sigh.
I wish I could call her. She told me once that she would never lose touch with me because she knew my grandmother's number by heart. But as you know, Granny no longer has a number. She now lives in a nursing home.
I find it so weird how you can start at point A with people and end up in COMPLETELY different directions. There was a time that I wanted to be like Charnae. I wanted to be stylish and have boyfriends and a cute haircut and a bangin' body. Now what? Although I have found it impossible to pray for myself lately I will pray for my old buddy Nay-Nay. It's the least and all I can do.
Today I tried to pray for myself. I bowed my head, but I didn't think anything. I didn't hear anything, and I didn't feel like anyone was listening. There was nothing to say. I feel like everything is...obvious. I feel like the connection with God that I have tried to strengthen over the past year is shattering as everything becomes increasingly more shitty. I don't know what to do. I don't know if I want to do anything. Overall, I just don't know, and that is just going to have to do for right now I guess.
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