I just ended a stint as a substitute teacher at a daycare. It was fun, sitting and playing legos all day with 2-year-olds. One of the teachers in the class was this statuesque 24-year-old babe that just graduated from college. I noticed that she kept her phone close to her, chronically checking it for something. Oh, how I remember the chronic cellphone check.
"I think she is excited, waiting on a guy to text her," I told Bells over a nice Mexican dinner. She was in town visiting her sister.
"Oh, I remember that," Bells said, nostalgically.
Watching Babe Teacher hold on to her phone for dear life, I realized that it has been a long time since I have been excited about a guy. There was that crush I had on that guy in my writing group, but that fuzzed out. I do believe that I have finally run out of excited-about-a-guy juice. I go on and on about how much I would love a man hug, but truth be told, I am not looking for anyone and I am sure that no one is looking for me.
But it is nice to be excited about a guy, waiting on his text, thinking of witty responses to whatever it is that he is going to say. When I am looking at my phone these days, it is just to check what time it is.
Right now, I'm more excited about the day that I finally get up the energy to defer my student loans and work on my credit. At 34, I can see 40 clear from here, and if I don't get my coin in order, I will be living in a cardboard box under the freeway. My good friends will come visit me every Sunday to bring me canned goods and baby wipes.
One day, I do hope to get excited about a man again, but for now, I have to find joy in writing disputes to TransUnion over what is on my credit karma report. Yay!
Tuesday, May 28, 2019
Monday, May 6, 2019
Who Let The Dogs Out?
Did I miss something? When did Black people become dog people?
I have to be honest: I am not a big dog person. I grew up in an area of Atlanta where many households had pit bulls or rottweilers. They would keep them tied up outside, ready to attack you when you walked by their houses, or bark at you while you waited on the bus. But let's be clear: those dogs were kept out.side.
Recently, I was feeling down, so my friend invited me to her sister's house for a dinner party. I was excited to go and get out of my own head. I was eager to meet some new people and of course, eat. Once we arrived at my friend's sister's house, I was speechless. The house was so beautifully decorated, I felt like I was in a fancy interiors Instagram page. I was looking at some of her awesome pictures and nicknacks when I caught a glimpse of a small Black dog out of the corner of my eye.
My body got tight and I froze in place as I listened to the rest of the family greet the dog in the living room. This was a dinner party. Surely they were going to throw the dog outside or lock her in a bathroom. NOT!
I tried to ignore the dog as it freely sashayed around the house like it owned the place. It was hard for me to really engage with people, mentally dipping in and out of the conversation to keep tabs on where the dog was at and what it was doing.
The party moved into the living room for dessert and I calmed down just a little. The dog got comfy on the floor and looked as if it was going to go to sleep. That was until two guests came late with their slightly bigger more aggressive dog instep. Everyone greeted him like he was part of the family with the same hands they were holding their drinks with.
"This is an animal, gross," I thought to myself as they continued their unhygienic hellos.
Then the dogs saw each other and about an hour of barking and fighting ensued.
How do you let a host know that you are uncomfortable with their animals when invited to their home? I ask because me screaming out loud and shielding my dessert and face with my arms didn't do the trick.
Other than those ferocious beasts hovering around, the dinner was lovely. I told my friends this story and they say I am overreacting. Apparently, dog lovers consider dogs people. Not I. Gross.
I have to be honest: I am not a big dog person. I grew up in an area of Atlanta where many households had pit bulls or rottweilers. They would keep them tied up outside, ready to attack you when you walked by their houses, or bark at you while you waited on the bus. But let's be clear: those dogs were kept out.side.
Recently, I was feeling down, so my friend invited me to her sister's house for a dinner party. I was excited to go and get out of my own head. I was eager to meet some new people and of course, eat. Once we arrived at my friend's sister's house, I was speechless. The house was so beautifully decorated, I felt like I was in a fancy interiors Instagram page. I was looking at some of her awesome pictures and nicknacks when I caught a glimpse of a small Black dog out of the corner of my eye.
My body got tight and I froze in place as I listened to the rest of the family greet the dog in the living room. This was a dinner party. Surely they were going to throw the dog outside or lock her in a bathroom. NOT!
I tried to ignore the dog as it freely sashayed around the house like it owned the place. It was hard for me to really engage with people, mentally dipping in and out of the conversation to keep tabs on where the dog was at and what it was doing.
The party moved into the living room for dessert and I calmed down just a little. The dog got comfy on the floor and looked as if it was going to go to sleep. That was until two guests came late with their slightly bigger more aggressive dog instep. Everyone greeted him like he was part of the family with the same hands they were holding their drinks with.
"This is an animal, gross," I thought to myself as they continued their unhygienic hellos.
Then the dogs saw each other and about an hour of barking and fighting ensued.
How do you let a host know that you are uncomfortable with their animals when invited to their home? I ask because me screaming out loud and shielding my dessert and face with my arms didn't do the trick.
Other than those ferocious beasts hovering around, the dinner was lovely. I told my friends this story and they say I am overreacting. Apparently, dog lovers consider dogs people. Not I. Gross.
Tuesday, April 9, 2019
The Artist
The night of the Christian Mix and Mingle, I met an artist. He walked up on me while I was bending over a table to rest my back. It was killing me, having just walked down the street in cheap shoes behind a very fast moving Kyndra.
"Are you here for the thing?" he asked, pointing at the crowd of people who were gathered at this location. And you know where it was. I was at one of those repurposed Atlanta spaces that was once a factory or something. Visible pipes. Lots of steps. Now it is a jumble of galleries and lofts for events and photo shoots.
"No, I am here for a dating thing," I said, still not standing up straight. I'm sure my butt was directly in his face, but my lower back was screaming!
"Oh."
I looked over my shoulder and butt to see a very fine chocolate man wearing overalls that were covered in paint. This caused me to sit up and at least pretend like I was comfortable.
After a brief conversation, I found out that I was talking to a man named Fritz that owned a small gallery filled with his own work on the bottom floor. I was so interested in hearing about his work and looking at his face that I didn't notice that Kyndra had left me. Apparently, we were in the wrong building. He gave me one of his cards and I went on to find Kyndra.
"I think I am going to call that artist and see if I can make him my Spring beau," I told Kyndra the next day on the way to church. She was not on board. She and the church clique are all about a man finding a woman and all of that. I don't know if that applies to me. I'm a plus size woman with a big afro in a red dress. If a man was going to find me, wouldn't he have found me by now?
That night, I looked up his website. He draws and sculpts people that kind of look like The Simpsons, and apparently, when he is not showcasing his art, he is leasing out his space for yoga classes and seminars. He was just as fine online as he was in person, minus that paint-spattered clothes.
I stared at his email for about ten minutes before logging out of my computer for the night. All I could hear is Tony Gaskins, the Instagram relationship coach, talking about how men enjoy a hunt and that women looking for men is a no-no. I don't know. I guess a part of me does like the idea of an old-school romance where a man puts forth the effort. So I followed him on Instagram but I didn't email him. I told him my name when we met. If he's interested, he can find me.
Thursday, April 4, 2019
Mingle No Mix
Kyndra invited me to a Christian Singles Mix and Mingle and I jumped at the chance to go. I never miss an opportunity to dress nice and possibly meet cute men. As to be expected, there were WAY more women there than men, and out of the men, there were more White men than Black ones.
"Have you found the love of your life?" I asked a woman who sat down beside me, a plate of appetizers in hand.
"Girl no," she said, crossing her legs. "There are hardly any brothas here."
"But there are White guys," I pointed out, nodding to a group of casually dressed White men dancing off-beat to a rap song.
"Girl stop," she said chuckling, nibbling on a meatball.
A long time ago, Jamaica told me that the reason why a lot of Black women were alone is because they refuse to date out of their race. I didn't want to believe it, but this may be true. I do have close Black female friends that are married to Black men, but I have so many single Black homegirls that are lonely and giving up. I wonder if they would be happy and in relationships if they weren't waiting around for Black men that may not come.
"You go talk to one," the same lady dared me. My stomach started to ache. Even back when my Black peers alleged that I wanted to be a White girl, I didn't see myself with a White man. Looking at the White men in the room, as nice as they seemed, made me think of the White athletes from high school that acted like they owned the place with their arrogance and poor attitudes.
"Naw," I said, "I'm just here to have fun."
For the rest of the evening, I watched a really cute Asian girl dancing with a group of White guys, smiling from ear to ear. Meanwhile, my wallflower section of Black women sitting against the wall was growing with every song played. I realized then that Jamaica might have been right: if Black women no longer wished to be single, they were going to have to be willing to mix and mingle with men that are not Black. That is a tough pill to swallow but a reality. This reality, however, doesn't keep me from fantasizing about marrying a Black man. Call me a dreamer.
"Have you found the love of your life?" I asked a woman who sat down beside me, a plate of appetizers in hand.
"Girl no," she said, crossing her legs. "There are hardly any brothas here."
"But there are White guys," I pointed out, nodding to a group of casually dressed White men dancing off-beat to a rap song.
"Girl stop," she said chuckling, nibbling on a meatball.
A long time ago, Jamaica told me that the reason why a lot of Black women were alone is because they refuse to date out of their race. I didn't want to believe it, but this may be true. I do have close Black female friends that are married to Black men, but I have so many single Black homegirls that are lonely and giving up. I wonder if they would be happy and in relationships if they weren't waiting around for Black men that may not come.
"You go talk to one," the same lady dared me. My stomach started to ache. Even back when my Black peers alleged that I wanted to be a White girl, I didn't see myself with a White man. Looking at the White men in the room, as nice as they seemed, made me think of the White athletes from high school that acted like they owned the place with their arrogance and poor attitudes.
"Naw," I said, "I'm just here to have fun."
For the rest of the evening, I watched a really cute Asian girl dancing with a group of White guys, smiling from ear to ear. Meanwhile, my wallflower section of Black women sitting against the wall was growing with every song played. I realized then that Jamaica might have been right: if Black women no longer wished to be single, they were going to have to be willing to mix and mingle with men that are not Black. That is a tough pill to swallow but a reality. This reality, however, doesn't keep me from fantasizing about marrying a Black man. Call me a dreamer.
Wednesday, March 20, 2019
The Last Dating Mohicans
There are a lot of obstacles when it comes to dating in your 30s, obstacles that I would have never imagined as a woman in my 20s. There are men dealing with divorce, men in relationships that think they are single, men still living with their exes to save money, men with side pieces, men with secret children, men with whole secret families, men who only want to date barely legal women, men who want to be Peter Pan. I mean the laundry list of issues goes on and on and on. But I am finding that the biggest obstacle facing single 30-something women is fighting that sometimes all-consuming urge to settle.
Here is something that I think that they should tell children in elementary school not to discourage them but to prepare them: loneliness is a BI$#H! It will make you do some stupid things that you would not normally do. For my single homegirls inching towards 35, it can cause them to do things like entertain losers that they are completely too good for. They say that if a woman is single over 30, there must be something wrong with her. But I am here to say, if there is a man over 30 that is single, watch.out. I find the single 30-something man to be both crazy and bold; pulling laughable foolishness out of their hats at the drop of a dime.
BFF1 just ended a relationship with a guy who has moved his ex in with him to save money. BFF2 was basically told by her on again off again beau that he's still interested in her, a little. Whether or not they get back together depends on where he gets into grad school. BFF3 just broke things off with a man that didn't understand why she was upset that he had a plethora of other girlfriends. She was over 30 after all. She should be happy to be with a man at all. NOT!
My friends knew that these guys were losers, but they chose to settle because they were tired of being lonely and I get it. But I believe that you should settle because, while you are settling, you are presenting yourself as in a relationship to the potential love of your life.
Cuffing season has come to an end. Valentine's Day has passed. If you are single, the urge to entertain that late night text pall that wants to come over and watch a movie at midnight may be very strong. But I encourage you to resist this urge and stand firm. Mr. Right is on the way. We have to believe this ladies. There is no shame in being the last of the dating Mohicans if the loves of our lives are right around the corner.
Here is something that I think that they should tell children in elementary school not to discourage them but to prepare them: loneliness is a BI$#H! It will make you do some stupid things that you would not normally do. For my single homegirls inching towards 35, it can cause them to do things like entertain losers that they are completely too good for. They say that if a woman is single over 30, there must be something wrong with her. But I am here to say, if there is a man over 30 that is single, watch.out. I find the single 30-something man to be both crazy and bold; pulling laughable foolishness out of their hats at the drop of a dime.
BFF1 just ended a relationship with a guy who has moved his ex in with him to save money. BFF2 was basically told by her on again off again beau that he's still interested in her, a little. Whether or not they get back together depends on where he gets into grad school. BFF3 just broke things off with a man that didn't understand why she was upset that he had a plethora of other girlfriends. She was over 30 after all. She should be happy to be with a man at all. NOT!
My friends knew that these guys were losers, but they chose to settle because they were tired of being lonely and I get it. But I believe that you should settle because, while you are settling, you are presenting yourself as in a relationship to the potential love of your life.
Cuffing season has come to an end. Valentine's Day has passed. If you are single, the urge to entertain that late night text pall that wants to come over and watch a movie at midnight may be very strong. But I encourage you to resist this urge and stand firm. Mr. Right is on the way. We have to believe this ladies. There is no shame in being the last of the dating Mohicans if the loves of our lives are right around the corner.
Monday, February 25, 2019
20
I had to go to the doctor recently. I HATE going to the doctor. But I didn't have a choice! I needed more blood pressure medicine and, sadly, you can't buy it off the street.
I don't like going to the doctor for all of the usual, expected reasons. Fear of bad news. Cold doctor fingers. Fear of bad news.
Well, during my checkup I was informed of something unexpected and yes, even unbelievable. I have lost 20 pounds!
"What?" I asked the nurse, confused.
"You have lost 20 pounds since the last time you were here."
"Oh...What?" I asked again, not sure I understood what she was saying.
"You have lost weight," she said slowly.
"Oh." I still didn't get it.
It wasn't until the Lyft ride home that I understood the magnitude of what she had said. I. Me. I had lost weight! This is a big deal because I have never lost weight in my life! I have consistently been getting fatter since birth! I had actually begun to believe that I could not lose weight. I mean, I have joined gyms and drank smoothies. As a teen, I even flirted with anorexia and managed to gain weight! What would happen if I went 20 by 20 and began to lose hundreds of pounds?
Don't worry. I am still going to be your friend even though I am now skinny. I wish I could tell you that I lost 20 pounds with diet and exercise but sadly, it had more to do with stress and loneliness. Regardless, it is my 20 pounds and I am taking it like I can get it! How stressed and lonely do you guys think I would have to get to lose 200?
I don't like going to the doctor for all of the usual, expected reasons. Fear of bad news. Cold doctor fingers. Fear of bad news.
Well, during my checkup I was informed of something unexpected and yes, even unbelievable. I have lost 20 pounds!
"What?" I asked the nurse, confused.
"You have lost 20 pounds since the last time you were here."
"Oh...What?" I asked again, not sure I understood what she was saying.
"You have lost weight," she said slowly.
"Oh." I still didn't get it.
It wasn't until the Lyft ride home that I understood the magnitude of what she had said. I. Me. I had lost weight! This is a big deal because I have never lost weight in my life! I have consistently been getting fatter since birth! I had actually begun to believe that I could not lose weight. I mean, I have joined gyms and drank smoothies. As a teen, I even flirted with anorexia and managed to gain weight! What would happen if I went 20 by 20 and began to lose hundreds of pounds?
Don't worry. I am still going to be your friend even though I am now skinny. I wish I could tell you that I lost 20 pounds with diet and exercise but sadly, it had more to do with stress and loneliness. Regardless, it is my 20 pounds and I am taking it like I can get it! How stressed and lonely do you guys think I would have to get to lose 200?
Monday, February 11, 2019
The Last Single VDay
Yet another Valentine's Day is coming up and I don't have a valentine. In all honesty, I haven't had a good V-Day since I was 19. At 19, I don't know what I would have said if someone would have told me that that would be my first and last Valentine's Day ever. How pathetic! This is truly the stuff that depressing romantic comedies are made of.
I guess the good news is that I am not alone this year. Even some of my smart, gorgeous, professional girlfriends will be spending February 14 with Mr. Netflix. And they are all saying that it's alright, that they are actually looking forward to a good, quiet evening alone. I'd believe them if they weren't saying this through clenched teeth and tears. Even my aunt asked me if she should send herself flowers to her job. I told her that that was a stern no, but I may take it back. Someone should get roses on the most romantic day of the year, even if said person has to mail them to herself.
You would have laughed at me if you would have seen me this weekend going to my writer's group. I was dressed as if I had a Valentine's Day date that very afternoon with Idris Elba! I mean, I looked gorgeous! But I wasn't being hot just to be hot: I was trying to get Ryan's attention. I got there too late to sit next to him, so I was literally trying to mentally and spiritually connect with him during the meeting. The prayers went over his head. He did, like everyone else, comment on how cute I looked. That made me smile for a second until I realized that his compliments did nothing to change my state of valentinelessness.
Why is this so hard? I'm not looking for love, just a free meal and a cheek kiss! For some reason, I want to blame social media.
Next year I will be 35 and I will have a V-Day date even if it kills me. If the past years are a prediction of the future, I better get my final affairs in order.
I guess the good news is that I am not alone this year. Even some of my smart, gorgeous, professional girlfriends will be spending February 14 with Mr. Netflix. And they are all saying that it's alright, that they are actually looking forward to a good, quiet evening alone. I'd believe them if they weren't saying this through clenched teeth and tears. Even my aunt asked me if she should send herself flowers to her job. I told her that that was a stern no, but I may take it back. Someone should get roses on the most romantic day of the year, even if said person has to mail them to herself.
You would have laughed at me if you would have seen me this weekend going to my writer's group. I was dressed as if I had a Valentine's Day date that very afternoon with Idris Elba! I mean, I looked gorgeous! But I wasn't being hot just to be hot: I was trying to get Ryan's attention. I got there too late to sit next to him, so I was literally trying to mentally and spiritually connect with him during the meeting. The prayers went over his head. He did, like everyone else, comment on how cute I looked. That made me smile for a second until I realized that his compliments did nothing to change my state of valentinelessness.
Why is this so hard? I'm not looking for love, just a free meal and a cheek kiss! For some reason, I want to blame social media.
Next year I will be 35 and I will have a V-Day date even if it kills me. If the past years are a prediction of the future, I better get my final affairs in order.
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