I saw this girl I know the other day. I've known her for a long time and I see her often. But this time she looked different. I know it was her but she didn't look familiar. She said some things and I said some things. Then I went on my way - hoping to see her again. But not in the unfamiliar way I had just seen her. I want to see her in the old familiar way I've gotten used to seeing her.
I miss seeing her when she was younger and she idolized me. Now, she's older and she's trying to find herself. She's trying to transform herself from the little girl who idolized me and turn herself into a young woman who can stand on her own - not in need of idols. Many years ago I read that she would eventually need to literally cut herself away from me so that she can be her own woman - and then she'll come back. As I read that I remember thinking, "Is all of that necessary? Will the cutting hurt? How will I survive that?" But over the years I forgot about the cutting way. I was lulled into the comfortable distractions of giving birth to her, teaching her to walk and talk, attending her school and church plays, clothing her, scheduling her tutoring sessions, laughing hysterically with her, chastising her, listening to her, attending her graduations, feeding her, encouraging her, and hugging and kissing her. I forgot about the cutting away.
Though the cutting time is upon me I have answers to the questions I asked so long ago.It is necessary. It does hurt. I will survive by the grace of God. Having those answers does not change the ache in the pit of my stomach or carry me through the feelings of despair and sadness.
The only thing keeping me afloat is the hope and belief that she will come back.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
I just got one bad habit only one bad habit.....
I do this thing that I know I shouldn't do, however, I am unable to stop. I guess it's just the way I'm made up. Here's the thing I do - I believe that people are generally good. That they are usually telling the truth and that they will not do to me what I would not do to them. I have been proven wrong God knows how many times, yet I continue to think this way. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not stupid. I just expect the best of others. Now, when I find out they are not what I thought I have no problem dealing with the facts. But - I just hate that I go into situations giving people the benefit of the doubt. It seems that people who are suspicious and jaded have it a lot easier. See, even now instead of thinking of those people as reasonable and level headed, I think of them as suspicious and jaded. I need to get to a middle ground. Glean from both sides if you will. I'd like to not take people at their word so easily. This does not only relate to relationships with the opposite sex. I wish I could read other blogs and think *some of that shit ain't true, he is exaggerating or she ain't that damn hard - it's easy to type it, walk it - not so easy* See what I write, say and live is just me. I don't clean it up. I don't exaggerate it or water it down, so I think others are doing the same. This leads to a great deal of disappointment.
I've been thinking about this for a few days and I just needed to put it out there.
I've been thinking about this for a few days and I just needed to put it out there.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Serial Dating 5 - No thanks, Mr. Limpy!
It's so nasty here. Not just snow, there's slush, ice, and black ice. Like most things black, the black ice is treacherous - and caused me to slide face forward into the hood of my car. I'm over the snow and cold. I loved it when I first moved here, now, not so much. I can't wait for Spring. However in my quest to find a winter match to warm my toesies, I date on.
This match was a product of The Ghetto Dating Site. Which equals bad. But as usual it started out okay. He showed interest, we chatted and then talked on the phone. I wasn't too interested because he isn't as thick as I like, but he is tall, so I thought I'd hear him out, give him a shot. So we go through the usual, what do you do, what do you like, how's dating going, blah, blah, blah, blah....... When we got to what he does for a living he recited some long drawn out story about having worked at a bunch of places, etc., etc. So now monkeys are dancing in my head and I'm thinking about my homework, the fact that I want some potato chips, and that I'm sleepy, now humming the song "Sista" from the color purple, and I hear it....."that's when I shattered my knee ankle and I'm on Social Security"....... What the?! Social Security? Why the hell? So I tell myself, "lets recover as quickly as possible and shut this joker down." As if he could hear my thoughts, he quickly said, "but I have a litigation lawsuit on them, so I'm getting ready to get a big settlement." (A "litigation lawsuit", I swear that's what he called it.) The background noises at the "place he resides", sounded like some damn homeless shelter. There was cursing and yelling.......gimme my cigarette mufucka........fuc you nigga.........ass......shit....damn.......bitch.
Then Mr. Crushed Ankle had the nerve to say he's looking for a Proverbs 31 woman, and asked if I could identify with that. I told him I know what the scripture says, I comprehend it, but I'm not that chick. Mind you, I think I possess the spirit of what the Proverbs 31 woman embodies, but I was so pissed that this gimpy, unemployed, probably shelter livin' ignorant bastard felt he was in a position to question me - I decided to be the opposite of whatever the hell he wanted. I excused myself from his attempt to teach me Bible 101 and bid him good night and good life.
I am exhausted people. It shouldn't be this hard. I've discovered there are two types of men on dating sites. The first group are not eligible and sometimes not fun to look at. The are not interested in having a serious relationship, they are only interested in the physical, and the site is a good way to get some ass. The second group are eligible and often handsome. When they joined the dating site their intent was to find someone to have a serious relationship with. However, after they too saw the bevy of available ass there is on line, they changed their minds. They decided to emulate the first group and just get the ass. After all it's easier.
Guys, I'm exhausted. Uncle! I've had enough. I like men much less than when I started this serial dating thing. And it's not worth it.
Finis
This match was a product of The Ghetto Dating Site. Which equals bad. But as usual it started out okay. He showed interest, we chatted and then talked on the phone. I wasn't too interested because he isn't as thick as I like, but he is tall, so I thought I'd hear him out, give him a shot. So we go through the usual, what do you do, what do you like, how's dating going, blah, blah, blah, blah....... When we got to what he does for a living he recited some long drawn out story about having worked at a bunch of places, etc., etc. So now monkeys are dancing in my head and I'm thinking about my homework, the fact that I want some potato chips, and that I'm sleepy, now humming the song "Sista" from the color purple, and I hear it....."that's when I shattered my knee ankle and I'm on Social Security"....... What the?! Social Security? Why the hell? So I tell myself, "lets recover as quickly as possible and shut this joker down." As if he could hear my thoughts, he quickly said, "but I have a litigation lawsuit on them, so I'm getting ready to get a big settlement." (A "litigation lawsuit", I swear that's what he called it.) The background noises at the "place he resides", sounded like some damn homeless shelter. There was cursing and yelling.......gimme my cigarette mufucka........fuc you nigga.........ass......shit....damn.......bitch.
Then Mr. Crushed Ankle had the nerve to say he's looking for a Proverbs 31 woman, and asked if I could identify with that. I told him I know what the scripture says, I comprehend it, but I'm not that chick. Mind you, I think I possess the spirit of what the Proverbs 31 woman embodies, but I was so pissed that this gimpy, unemployed, probably shelter livin' ignorant bastard felt he was in a position to question me - I decided to be the opposite of whatever the hell he wanted. I excused myself from his attempt to teach me Bible 101 and bid him good night and good life.
I am exhausted people. It shouldn't be this hard. I've discovered there are two types of men on dating sites. The first group are not eligible and sometimes not fun to look at. The are not interested in having a serious relationship, they are only interested in the physical, and the site is a good way to get some ass. The second group are eligible and often handsome. When they joined the dating site their intent was to find someone to have a serious relationship with. However, after they too saw the bevy of available ass there is on line, they changed their minds. They decided to emulate the first group and just get the ass. After all it's easier.
Guys, I'm exhausted. Uncle! I've had enough. I like men much less than when I started this serial dating thing. And it's not worth it.
Finis
Monday, February 19, 2007
What Men Really Want...........
If you follow my directions to a "T", you are guaranteed to acquire the man your heart desires. I have done extensive research and these results are tried and true. I have spoken with both sexes, taken polls (not poles : ) ), and I've compiled the facts for your edification.
Ready? Here goes.
Men want you to lie to them. That's right boys and girls they do not want you tell the truth. Don't even whisper it! They don't want you to;
ask what you want of them. They'd rather you play games, trick and connive to get what you want from them. Ask for hundreds of dollars for pretend pregnancy terminations when you want to go shopping, or need to pay a bill. You can use this over and over. That way they can call you a "trick, or gold digger".
ask them for what you want in bed. They'd rather you fake an orgasm or just shut the hell up. God forbid you tell them what you like, unless it's the exact same shit that they like, their feelings will be hurt. You will have stepped on their manhood. Either wait until you are alone and handle your business or get "some help". I'll let you figure that one out.
tell them what you really think about their, boys, mother, or wardrobe. This one is self explanatory.
be sensible and talk a situation out. They want you to cut up and act a fool. They want you to show up at the club, break a beer bottle on the bar and hold it underneath their neck while you curse and threaten them. Now he can call you crazy. They love crazy. They keep crazy women around for ever!
NO telling the truth. Try it. Let me know how well it works for you.
Ready? Here goes.
Men want you to lie to them. That's right boys and girls they do not want you tell the truth. Don't even whisper it! They don't want you to;
ask what you want of them. They'd rather you play games, trick and connive to get what you want from them. Ask for hundreds of dollars for pretend pregnancy terminations when you want to go shopping, or need to pay a bill. You can use this over and over. That way they can call you a "trick, or gold digger".
ask them for what you want in bed. They'd rather you fake an orgasm or just shut the hell up. God forbid you tell them what you like, unless it's the exact same shit that they like, their feelings will be hurt. You will have stepped on their manhood. Either wait until you are alone and handle your business or get "some help". I'll let you figure that one out.
tell them what you really think about their, boys, mother, or wardrobe. This one is self explanatory.
be sensible and talk a situation out. They want you to cut up and act a fool. They want you to show up at the club, break a beer bottle on the bar and hold it underneath their neck while you curse and threaten them. Now he can call you crazy. They love crazy. They keep crazy women around for ever!
NO telling the truth. Try it. Let me know how well it works for you.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Wishing
I'm floundering in un-productivness today. I'm at my desk at work listening to Kem. Thinking. Wondering. Wanting. Kem brings that out in me, or maybe I listen to Kem when it's already out in me.
Since I intend to do absolutely no work assigned to me by "the oppressor" today, I went back and read some of my older posts. I was caught off guard by how much one of the posts described how I'm feeling now.
On, July 30, 2006, I said,
"Here's why this is a bitch. I don't think I should be poor. I fancy myself a resourceful strong woman. A woman for all seasons. One of my friends referred to me as a 'renaissance woman" the other day, and I think she is right. I can cook my ass off, I can sew, crochet, garden, and bake. I love a good Riesling and a good cigar. You can find an eclectic mix of music on rotation in my CD player, from jazz to hip hop. I like to travel and I'm open to a host of new experiences. I'm a Christian single mother who works full time and attends college. Goddamn it, I am not supposed to be poor!
I'm supposed to be living in a house in the country with a fruit and vegetable garden in the back yard. I'm supposed to drink lemonade under my favorite shade tree and contemplate world affairs. I should be journaling at my favorite coffee shop before going home to cook dinner for my husband. I should be taking guitar lessons and planning trips abroad. I'm supposed to be planning seasonal dinner parties for eight. I should be shopping, and smiling. I should be going for long walks donning a big straw hat and sunglasses."
I've wanted this kind of life since I can remember - but it's so illusive. Is it illusive or is it an illusion? I remain baffled. I wonder why I can't/don't have it? I mean really wonder, like when you wonder where you left your keys. You think real hard, hoping the answer will come to you. You try to back track to help you remember where you left them. I concentrate on this illusive life I want with that type of concentration. I backtrack, try to find different paths to it, coupons for it, short-cuts to it, maps to it, GPS it, etc........ I look at people who have it, and wonder where they were when they got it, maybe I can go there and hope lightning will strike in the same place twice.
I hate that I'm this way. I wish I didn't think the shit I think. I wish I wasn't so sensitive. I wish I didn't want the things I want. Life would be so much easier if I could get these two fish to swim in the same direction. That way I could be either sensible or ethereal, but not both. I wish I could revel in my everyday accomplishments with out thinking of the goals I haven't yet attained. I wish I didn't want love at first sight with a knight in shining armor. I wish I didn't want to be swept off my feet.
I wish I could stop wishing.
Since I intend to do absolutely no work assigned to me by "the oppressor" today, I went back and read some of my older posts. I was caught off guard by how much one of the posts described how I'm feeling now.
On, July 30, 2006, I said,
"Here's why this is a bitch. I don't think I should be poor. I fancy myself a resourceful strong woman. A woman for all seasons. One of my friends referred to me as a 'renaissance woman" the other day, and I think she is right. I can cook my ass off, I can sew, crochet, garden, and bake. I love a good Riesling and a good cigar. You can find an eclectic mix of music on rotation in my CD player, from jazz to hip hop. I like to travel and I'm open to a host of new experiences. I'm a Christian single mother who works full time and attends college. Goddamn it, I am not supposed to be poor!
I'm supposed to be living in a house in the country with a fruit and vegetable garden in the back yard. I'm supposed to drink lemonade under my favorite shade tree and contemplate world affairs. I should be journaling at my favorite coffee shop before going home to cook dinner for my husband. I should be taking guitar lessons and planning trips abroad. I'm supposed to be planning seasonal dinner parties for eight. I should be shopping, and smiling. I should be going for long walks donning a big straw hat and sunglasses."
I've wanted this kind of life since I can remember - but it's so illusive. Is it illusive or is it an illusion? I remain baffled. I wonder why I can't/don't have it? I mean really wonder, like when you wonder where you left your keys. You think real hard, hoping the answer will come to you. You try to back track to help you remember where you left them. I concentrate on this illusive life I want with that type of concentration. I backtrack, try to find different paths to it, coupons for it, short-cuts to it, maps to it, GPS it, etc........ I look at people who have it, and wonder where they were when they got it, maybe I can go there and hope lightning will strike in the same place twice.
I hate that I'm this way. I wish I didn't think the shit I think. I wish I wasn't so sensitive. I wish I didn't want the things I want. Life would be so much easier if I could get these two fish to swim in the same direction. That way I could be either sensible or ethereal, but not both. I wish I could revel in my everyday accomplishments with out thinking of the goals I haven't yet attained. I wish I didn't want love at first sight with a knight in shining armor. I wish I didn't want to be swept off my feet.
I wish I could stop wishing.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
You can't drink alcohol, you're nursing!
Tipsy has had the baby! A beautiful baby girl. I tell you she is gorgeous! Just perfect. I went home to see her and Tipsy a couple of weekends ago. Yeah, uh - Tipsy was not handling this baby thing very well. See Tipsy and her new hubby are accustomed to gettin' it done on their own schedule and a baby shuts that shit down. You have to sleep when the baby sleeps, pee when the baby allows you to, and eat with the baby on your lap, and change diapers every 37 seconds. Well, these lessons were kicking Tipsy's ass big time. And since, she waited until we are about to turn 40 to pull this baby shit - I thought I would find a lot more humor in it. I couldn't wait to say, "Aha, aha, that's what your old ass gits! Havin' a damn baby on me!" But, I don't feel that way at all.
When I visited I tried to help out. I literally pushed her and hubby out the door, to have an afternoon alone. I gave some advice and was looked at with the evil side eye. Tipsy is very resourceful, and smart. She likes to do everything for herself, and she can usually figure things out. But this is different, no book or manual can prepare you for bi-hourly feedings, no sleep, and post-partum lunacy. Like I said I tried to help out. In the end, the answer was to get the hell out of Dodge and let her figure it out for herself. And she has.
She called me yesterday, sounding almost like her old self. She was out and about doing errands and breathing fresh baby-less air. Just what she needed. However, Now she wants to know if it will hurt the baby if she has a little something to drink.
Tipsy's back! Yippee!
When I visited I tried to help out. I literally pushed her and hubby out the door, to have an afternoon alone. I gave some advice and was looked at with the evil side eye. Tipsy is very resourceful, and smart. She likes to do everything for herself, and she can usually figure things out. But this is different, no book or manual can prepare you for bi-hourly feedings, no sleep, and post-partum lunacy. Like I said I tried to help out. In the end, the answer was to get the hell out of Dodge and let her figure it out for herself. And she has.
She called me yesterday, sounding almost like her old self. She was out and about doing errands and breathing fresh baby-less air. Just what she needed. However, Now she wants to know if it will hurt the baby if she has a little something to drink.
Tipsy's back! Yippee!
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Serial Dating 4 - So how long were you in jail?
After I licked my wounds, and sulked for a while - I took your advice and got back on the horse, so to speak. Back to serial dating. Mind you, I have a lot of balls in the air, so I haven't been on it like before, but here goes.
Let's call this guy "Fuzzy Pimp Coat", (he had a fuzzy pimp coat on in one of his profile pictures). I'm from Louisiana, so any man wearing a coat with fur around the collar looks uhhm.... what we call "pimpish". I like a little swagger, but a pimp coat? C'mon! Anyhow, the guy kept sending me messages and finally I responded. We chat and exchange numbers. Yep, that's how it always starts. They sound so normal at first.
The long and short of it is he was released in 2004 after a 15 year prison stint (d.r.u.g.s. !!!!!), and he has an 8 MONTH old and a 9 MONTH old. He says he wants a wife. I effen kid you not!
WHY?!?
Why is he trying to find another woman? Why do these people always like me? Why did he think I would date him with the super size luxury bags of drama he has? No thank you Mr. Fuzzy Pimp Coat.
The African is starting to look pretty good at this point. : (
Let's call this guy "Fuzzy Pimp Coat", (he had a fuzzy pimp coat on in one of his profile pictures). I'm from Louisiana, so any man wearing a coat with fur around the collar looks uhhm.... what we call "pimpish". I like a little swagger, but a pimp coat? C'mon! Anyhow, the guy kept sending me messages and finally I responded. We chat and exchange numbers. Yep, that's how it always starts. They sound so normal at first.
The long and short of it is he was released in 2004 after a 15 year prison stint (d.r.u.g.s. !!!!!), and he has an 8 MONTH old and a 9 MONTH old. He says he wants a wife. I effen kid you not!
WHY?!?
Why is he trying to find another woman? Why do these people always like me? Why did he think I would date him with the super size luxury bags of drama he has? No thank you Mr. Fuzzy Pimp Coat.
The African is starting to look pretty good at this point. : (
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)