Seeking Charles Christmas 2: It Doesn't Go Down In the DMs

Let me just start off by saying that only I can turn what should have been an innocent request for pics into what could possibly lead a man to getting back with an ex. 

The same day that I blogged about Charles, I reached out to him in a Facebook message. I just told myself to do it and did it. I said hey, and told him I was thinking about a kid who died of cancer in middle school, and wondered if he knew his name since they were friends. To my shock, he replied. He told me his name. Then I asked him if he married Patty when I knew that he hadn't. He told me he didn't, but said that she used to wish him a happy birthday every year before they lost contact last year. That made me feel sad and guilty. Requesting pics from a friend's ex, what is wrong with me? I don't know why I have gotten so tacky lately. I am basically a good girl. 

I then went on to ask him about what he has been doing since the 8th grade. There was some talk about gun charges and jail time. I asked him to go into more detail, but he said that since he has done way more than what he got clipped for, he couldn't go into any more detail. Yikes! Yikes and sexxy. What woman amongst us hasn't had a thing for a street gun enthusiast in the past? However, he isn't that anymore. He has a job and a kid. 

The chat ended on a good note, minus the fact that I chickened out on the pic request. I really didn't want him to think I was skanky, which is funny, because this is my first time chatting with him in almost 20 years. What do I care if he thinks I'm a skank? Sigh. I care. It's just that he works out crazy hard, and I want to see him naked! He does those intense borderline dumb workouts at gyms where they jump off of cinder blocks and hang from the ceiling. 

Riddled with guilt, I found Patty's number and sent it to him. If she is single, maybe they will hookup again and fall back in love. Undoubtedly, I will be on the dating app having pointless conversations with a guy that I won't be talking to in a few weeks. He will most likely disappear, leaving me with nothing to hold on to, not even some pictures. 

Finding Cameron

I found my kindergarten/ 1st grade crush on Facebook! Well, I didn't really find him. He popped up as a friend suggestion. I don't know what made me pay attention to the suggestion. I usually ignore them because I NEVER know who Facebook says I should but there he was: Cameron. 

I went through his page with my stalker hat on, trying to figure out what he has been up to all these years. He isn't that consistent of a Facebook poster, but from what I could tell, he has had a good life. He graduated from an HBCU. He is a Sigma. I don't know what he does for a living, but he looks like success. The only thing annoying on his page is that he has a girlfriend and it looks like they do workouts together. Gross. 

Seeing that he had not posted anything in months, I decided to send him a friend request, not expecting him to respond. He accepted it a second later, and since then (which was Monday morning), I have been in a state of euphoria. 

Come with me on my mental spaceship to 1990, East Point, Georgia. I was obsessed with edible bracelets and glow in the dark scrunchies. I had a serious addiction to Fruit Rollups, and I was majorly crushing on the boy that sat beside me in class. His name was Cameron, and his voice was high and his laughter was loud and sounded like he was singing. His head and face were always shiny, like his mom put oil on his hair and then rubbed the rest of it over his face. I actually know that is what happened because my grandma did that to me all the time. He was mischievous, but he wasn't bad. He just liked to do little annoying things that got him sent to time out. And he had slits in his eyebrows. Child. I am into men today with eyebrow slits! 

Looking at his page, I realized that I have been into the same type of guy my whole life, which further feeds into my feeling that you are who you are when you are born and do very little evolving as you get older. The cards are dealt from the jump. Okay. I am starting to babble. The point is I recently came across the man named Cameron, smiling and being lighthearted on social media, and I can totally see why I was into him when I was a child. Just thought I would share. 

Brian and the Dawn of the Boy-Girl

I went to school with a boy named Brian that is relentlessly belly aching all over my Facebook feed. He just won't quit! Everyday he is going off about how the women in L.A. are fake and boring and opportunists; that they only want material things from a man and nothing real. I have to admit that these posts are entertaining to me seeing that, in college, he was the renowned author of a list that highlighted the "hottest" girls in school. The girls, of course, all had relaxers and light skin and HUGE butts.
I guess this is why I was so shocked that a man that was previously so artificial himself was now complaining about there being a lack of substance in the dating world. The angry Black woman in me wants to tell him that he would have found a girl of substance in school if he hadn't been humiliating them with those dumb lists. But, as a fellow person in the world out here trying to make a dollar out of fifteen cents when it comes to love, I just want to pat him on the back and welcome him to the party.
Here is something you should know about Brian: he is hot. Not super duper hot but a step above basic hot. If he was on his own list, he would be a number six out of ten. The moral of that tidbit is this: he is hot enough to get a quality girlfriend. He is literally tall, dark, and handsome! I was thinking about this the other day as I was painting my toe nails. Then it dawned on me: boys are girls too!
All this time I just assumed that men my age were just out here surfing for sex and hearts to break; looking for a good time with no strings attached. But Brian's posts clearly show that he wants strings...BAD. If he is a cookie cutter example of at least ten percent of men in their 30s than this is good news! All this time, the picture depicted led us to believe that women were looking for love while men were looking for lovin'. If Brian's latest status is any indication, men are looking for love too! We are all looking for the same thing! We should let each other know so we all aren't out here making asses of ourselves, trying to be what we thought the other wanted.
Admittedly, this may take some time. Until then, we have Brian's status updates to keep us entertained.

10 Year Fears

I didn't go to my 10-year high school reunion. I ended up going to a high school outside of my district, gay boyfriend in toe, for a fresh start. What I got instead was a fresh hell. I won't go into too many deats. Let's just say it was horrible.

On the flip side, I had the time of my life in college. It was how I had wished that high school had been! I had fun. I was social. I had friends. People knew who I was. Yet, my 10-year reunion is later on this year, and I don't think that I will be going to that one either.

Thanks to the soul-imprisoning social network that is Facebook, you no longer need a reunion to keep up with your compadres. A large amount of my time in the morning is dedicated to going through my Facebook timeline and liking advance degree announcements, manicured hand engagement pics, wedding albums, and job promotion brags. And who can forget the exotic vacation imagery? I feel in my heart that attending my reunion will just make me even more envious and depressed. I would like to see my friends, but I feel like they all have gotten more beautiful with age. Meanwhile, I have gotten fatter when I was already fat to begin with!

I can't believe that it has already been ten years. Where has the time gone?! I have to look at my resume to remember, which is another post entirely. For now, these are my feelings on that: 😒.

I want to go to my reunion, but only if I'm gorgeous and making Arab money. That may sound stupid, but I feel close enough to you to tell you how I feel. We'll see how far I have progressed for my 20-year reunion.

Check out my page on Facebook!

 

Examining the 90s Baby

Am I the only one that yearns for the good old days when the meanest thing another kid could do to you was talk about your Mama? You yell with your peer, get in a fight, get sent to the office, your Mama spanks you because she had to leave work early to come get you, and life went on.
Well, the 90s babies aren't about keepin' it simple...they are about keeping it gangsta! Beating each other to literal death and posting the videos on Youtube. Setting each other up for jail time and such. I have said it once and I will say it again: they are crazy!
But technology, technology has given them a new medium to be awful to each other. What am I talking about? Well, my sister comes home yesterday and tells me that some girl in her class took a picture of her in class and then took a picture of some other girl at another time, then took the pics home and photoshopped them so that it looked like my sister and this other girl were kissing. Then she posted this pic on her Facebook page.
WTF? Why would it even cross your mind to do something like that and furthermore, why does a 12-year-old have a Facebook page?!
I was bothered by this guys. And not just because it was weird and involved my sister, but because my sister thought that this was OK. Kids do things like this all the time apparently, and it could have been worse. The kids in her classes could have actually believed the obviously doctored pic, which would have been social suicide. This surprised me, seeing that this is the "I Kissed a Girl" generation.
I got made fun of a lot in school, and I can not imagine having to defend my sexuality as a preteen! I guess such things are commonplace for the poor misguided 90s baby.

The High School Rule

Lately, I have been getting a lot of friend requests from people on Facebook who I went to high school with. I almost always accept these requests even though high school is a time that I have tried my hardest to forget. To put it nicely, I was a social recluse with little to no friends that spent her spare time writing and playing the bass in the orchestra.
Yet even though I try to forget this time, I find myself going back there mentally, especially to the bad places, the more successful I get. And I find that those four years have played a bigger part into who I am than I would care to admit.
So recently I was telling my friend Chloe that I am trying to get over the stresses of high school because I find that just reminiscing about those dark days makes me angry. I shared with her that a way that I planned on doing is this is by forgiving some of the people who made this time particularly miserable, and she goes, "What does it matter? It's not like anything you do in high school matters."
This was shocking for me to hear, seeing that every insult, every rude remark, every joke cracked, and every finger pointed mattered to me.
I don't know. Just thought that was interesting.