LEFT: A Mystery

Two weeks ago, a friend of mine, Moesha*, hit me up on Facebook about going out to "Taco Tuesday" at Lake Chalet near downtown Oakland. She hadn't been before and she'd heard me talking about the cheap tacos and delicious and potent margaritas for half price. She wanted to celebrate getting her new apartment, and decided that would be the spot. I ran into her at church on Sunday afternoon, where we solidified the details and she promised to call me on Monday to remind me.

She never called, but I remembered...because not a Tuesday goes by when I forget about those $4 margaritas. Moesha emailed me and hit my FB inbox, saying that she had lost her phone but would still meet me at the restaurant. I told her that I'd be inviting a few more people and I'd make sure to wait for her outside since she had no way to call when she arrived.

I end up inviting, my homie B, who brought along his friend, Brian. I also invited my girl, Gina*. We couldn't find a seat outside on the pier, so we ended up sitting inside, which made the tacos and margaritas a "self serve" type of deal. While B and Brian go to get our second helping, Moesha decides to share how she lost her phone.

So, Nakia, remember the guy I told you about on Sunday? The one I went out with on Saturday night and told you we had a great time together? Well, we've been dating for a little over a month now. He was a great guy, perfect gentleman, very sweet and attentive, always ready to take me out, introduced me to a lot of new restaurants. We were really clicking. He was great. In fact, he was so great that I was starting to think that this was too good to be true, since I usually don't deal with guys this nice. He'd even offered to help me move into my new place in a few weeks. He took me to church with him and I've been to his house. The guy has a nice job and car. Everything seemed to be falling into place.


So you know I said that on Saturday, I had left my umbrella in his car. I didn't really want to seem like I was eager to see him since we'd just been out on Saturday, so I told him I would just swoop by and pick up my umbrella after church. When I called, he insisted that we spend time together on Sunday, too. That went really well. 

On Monday, he called and said that we should go out to dinner that evening. I agreed. He lives in a city 20 minutes away from me, even longer when there is traffic. While exiting the freeway, he let me know his phone was dying and said he was almost at my house. Before he could hang up, his phone died. When he arrived, I came outside, jumped in his car and we took off for dinner. He asked if he could borrow my phone to make a call since his phone had died. As I'm giving him my phone, we pull into a gas station because he was on "E". When he parks, I decide to hop out the car to buy some gum from the store. I get my gum, head back to the car, and see that the guy is GONE.

*insert a huge GASP from both me and Gina*

Yes, girl! He was gone. I stood there for awhile, thinking that maybe he had driven around the corner or was playing a trick on me or something. But no! He was gone. I went to the station attendant and described the car to him. He said he remembered the car and that the guy had pulled up like he was going to get gas, he sat there for a minute, and then he drove off. I couldn't believe it! It's dark outside, I'm too far from my house to walk home and I dont have my phone. Thank God I didnt leave my purse in his car. Some other guy pulled into the gas station and let me use his phone to call home so someone could pick me up. I was devastated, though. The station attendant also said he'd driven down the street when he pulled out of the parking lot, and not toward the freeway entrance which is just a few feet from the gas station, so he obviously wasnt going home when he left me. 


I keep wondering if something bad happened. Something happened during that phone call when I let him borrow my phone. It had to be something bad. I mean, why would someone do that to me? When I got home, I called my cell phone thinking he would pick up, but it just rang. The next day at work, I called his phone and my cell phone from my work number. No answer. I checked the mailbox just in case he would have dropped it off. Nothing. 

Someone said that maybe he didn't want to be with me anymore. Then, why go through the trouble of driving that far to leave me at the gas station? He could have just stopped calling. Why'd he invite me out? And even if he was tired of me, he could have easily made up a lie about cutting our date short, and took me back home. I just don't understand.

I was totally stunned and couldn't believe a guy would do something like that, especially if none of it was provoked, and no argument had transpired. To leave a woman at the gas station, when it's dark outside, with no phone? What kind of emergency would make a man do that?

"He's on dope!", was Gina's reply. Moesha and I burst out laughing.

"Girl, what are you talking about?"

"He gotta be on dope! The same thing happened to a friend of mine. They rolled up to 7-11, she got out to get something and came back and dude was GONE! And it was the same scenario: he was the perfect guy, too good to be true...until he left her ass at 7-11, WITH HER PHONE IN HIS CAR. And then 3 months, he called her from rehab, apologized and said he was getting his life together. Said when she was in 7-11, he got a call from the dope man and he had to make that run."

"Are you serious?" I'm in disbelief. Gina is so funny with her storytelling, its just hard to believe.

"Yes. I'm serious. Moesha, dude is on dope. Dont be surprised if you get a call from rehab in two months."

Moesha has a different theory, though. "I dont think he's on drugs. I really think something could have happened on that  phone call. That has to be it. I was just worried that something happened to him."

The guys come back with our food and "drank" and I suggest that Moesha share her experience with them so we can see what they feel about what happened. They're men. They may have a better understanding or a theory other than, "He's on dope!"

She explains the story and Brian IMEEJIATELY says the guy is probably bi-polar and girls need to stop messing with these crazy men. Moesha explains that nothing about the guy alluded to him being crazy. "You act like he had a sign on his head that said 'I'm crazy. Pick me to go out with!'. If I knew he was crazy, I would have never talked to the guy."

"Well, any man who leaves a girl at the gas station is either hella crazy, or he got a call for some azz, and since you weren't giving it up, he had to make a quick decision. And you weren't it."

I interject, "But, if that were the case, he still could have taken her home first. Leaving a girl at the gas station over some azz? I could understand if it was the first  or second date, but a girl you've been dating for a month? A girl you took to church with you? A girl who knows where you live? Come on! Thats crazy".

"Well, I already said the guy was crazy, bi-polar, schizophrenic. So there's your answer." He turns to Moesha. "But, why are you here with us? You know where he lives? We should be at his house RIGHT NOW!"

I'd said the same thing earlier. Had it been me, I'd be staked out in front of his apartment, 24 hour surveillance. I also offered to go with her to his church and during the "Welcome" for the visitors, stand up and let everybody know I'm looking for the guy who goes MIA on women and leaves them at the gas station at night.

Brian continued, "Aint nothin happened to that man! Dont worry about the phone call he made on your cell phone. I wish a girl would leave me at the gas station at night with no phone. I wouldn't give a damn what the reason was. She better hope she never sees me in the streets, cuz she's gonna get a big "F**K YOU!!!!' from me!"

We all laugh but I notice something in the difference of reaction.

"You guys notice how something like this will happen to a woman and us ladies automatically go the route of 'Something bad could have happened to him' with our thinking. We're so compassionate, worrying over a man, talking about, 'He could have been in a car accident' or 'Maybe his mom died', when he's probably having a grand 'ol time, messing around with some other heffa, and not giving a damn about us. You see how Brian reacted? That's what we need to start doing. Handing out "F**K YOU's" and moving on. So what if he was in a car accident or his mama died? You can't be leaving a girl at the gas station with no explanation. That just aint right!"

Gina and Moesha agreed. I turned to B, to see if he had anything to say about the situation, but he was still so shocked by what the guy did, all he could offer was, "Man...thats crazy", shrug and exhale

"Girl, you better check your phone bill. And...I still think he's on dope," Gina says for the 12th time.

I remember that Moesha said there were other people who had driven into the gas station while she was in the store.

"The only thing I can think of, is if his girlfriend or a girl he is dating drove into the gas station and he couldn't be seen with you. And your phone just happened to be a casualty of that. I dont think he stole your phone on purpose. He already had a phone, right? So yeah, there was probably another woman and he almost got caught up, and what man is going to call and explain that scenario later, unless he thinks he can get away with it or get away with a lie? Either that, or maybe some guys he's beefing with drove into the gas station. You know how it is out here. He could have driven away out of fear or needing to protect himself, and in that case, he probably isn't going to call and explain that, either. That's all I can think of."

We continue to talk about the situation, which of course leads to a convo about about how men are crazy and women are ridiculous. Two hours of men and women relationship talk with margaritas in the mix = complete hilarity.

In speaking with Moesha yesterday to get permission to blog about her ordeal, she explained that she still hadn't heard from the guy. Even though we were able to laugh about it that night, she was kind of devastated and slightly traumatized by the incident. I know I would be, too. She spoke to her mom about it, who explained that quite possibly, the guy driving off was God removing her from a very bad situation. After that talk, she said she felt alot better.

But after such a shocking experience, Moesha said she's definitely taking a break from men, so it looks like we have another student who will be enrolling in the Vivica A. Fox Institute of Old Maidenhood, where I am currently the Dean of Curriculum, Admissions, and Extra Curriculur Activities.

Oh, and her insurance replaced her phone this past weekend.

The incident still remains a mystery.  What do you think about this situation? Have you ever heard of something like this happening?

*Names have been changed.

What Do I Think About "Good Hair"?

I'm super late on this topic. So sue me. I wasn't even going to write about this, mainly because I've seen a million and 42 blogs (I counted) about this topic. I also know that people are really sensitive and can get easily offended on both sides of this issue.  I figured I'd keep my mouth shut, but after I posted a status message about "Good Hair", a few people on Facebook and Twitter asked me to blog it out. So here ya go...

I saw "Good Hair" three weekends ago. I was already apprehensive about the film because of the promotion done by Chris Rock on numerous talk shows. I'd heard reviews that lamented on Rock only giving a surface explanation of our hair pathology, and plenty of people were disappointed about him not presenting enough point of views or alternatives to relaxers.  On the day that Rock was to show up on "The View", there was a debate between Whoopi Goldburg and Barbara Walters that resulted in Barbara declaring that Black women obviously want to look like white women. There was a comment/joke made by Rock on the Oprah Show, where he called Oprah a slave when she showed a childhood picture with her hair plaited. There was an article in the San Jose Mercury News, that focused on the tons of money, time, and harmful products we use on our hair. The slant of the article hinted at Black women being dysfunctional in our beauty decisions. It REALLY bothered me that those outside of our community, now had something else to examine, pick apart, and paint as negative when referring to Black people, women in particular.

But I figured I'd be a good little African American and pass judgment AFTER I saw the movie. I thought I would be upset at Chris Rock poking fun at the choices that Black women make in regards to their hair, but I wasn't. Not at all. I was moreso saddened by a lot of the truth displayed in the film. Babies, 3 and 6 yr old babies, getting relaxers, speaking on how much they hate the burning of their scalp, but reasoning that "you're supposed to get a relaxer!". That bothered me to no end. Seeing young high school girls tell another girl with natural hair that they would never hire her if they worked at a law firm or for a big corporation because even though her style looked cute, she couldnt possibly make a good impression with her hair all over the place. Seeing a grown Black woman employee in a beauty supply store nearly curse Chris Rock out when he tried to sell coarse African American hair to the Asian owner (which I thought was a dumb move by Chris Rock, but the woman still could have handled it differently). None of it sat right with me at all.

But all of it was reality. I can't be mad at Rock for that.

However, I do wish Rock would have showed a few more perspectives because contrary to popular belief, not every Black woman spends $1000s of dollars a month on her hair, forsaking her rent money and food for her children, for the newest hairstyle. Not every Black man has to worry about shelling out money for his girlfriend/baby mama/wife to get her "hurr did". I really feel like this stereotype was pushed a little too much in the documentary.

I'm all for women making whatever hair choices they want to make. Hell, I went from this

to this

 to this

to this

and back over the coarse of a few weeks. It just saddens me when people are frightened of their hair, or when women refuse to acknowledge where the disdain for kinks and coils is rooted.

And that is definitely what I was waiting for Rock to present to the audience: where did the fascination of "good hair" or relaxed, pressed, weaved hair come from? Why is it that most Black women prefer to run away from the texture of their natural hair? He never delved into where the want for straight hair came from, nor did he even explain what most people are refering to when they say "good hair".

I've been wearing my natural hair out alot more lately, mainly because I now know what to do with it (and because I am getting ready to loc it in January and I want to enjoy it as much as possible before I start that process). Before, I was very clueless and the few people I asked for tips were really stingy with advice, so I just kept my hair in braids. But thank the LAWD for the innanets because now, there is a wealth of information in blogs and on youtube on how to transition, style, and maintain natural hair.

It bothers me though, when Black women compliment me on my natural hair, but at the same time, separate themselves from it. "You have the face for natural hair" or "My hair would never work like that". Do you really think God cursed the majority of Black women with hair that doesn't work for their faces? Unless you have alopecia, you're wrong, boo.

The pics to the right are of me prior to 2001 before I said "Bye bye!" to relaxers. You see that silkiness there? Now do you really think I thought I had the face for natural hair while addicted to that creamy crack? Do you really think I thought I would look right with my kinks and coils free to do whatever they wanted? Hell and NO. lol

I totally understand when women tell me that having a relaxer makes their hair easier to maintain. It's true: if you want your hair to do something that it was never designed to do, like be straight, then of course natural hair maintenance is going to be difficult. I don't believe that most women who have relaxers are striving to be white, but I do know that relaxers and other tools designed with the purpose to straighten Black hair, were created to duplicate the hairstyles that white women wore. So our fore-mothers were striving to get away from their natural hair and blend into the mainstream, and passed that on to their daughters and their daughters daughter, and so forth and so on.  The result:  many of our hair choices stem from race and beauty issues that have been clouded by "whats in style".

I don't really care if people want to relax their hair. Hell, I dont wear my hair natural everyday of the week because I'm super lazy (just the thought of picking up a comb make me tired), which is why I am longing for the day when I begin the loc'ing process. But what I do care about is people who act like there is no alternative and that natural hair is ugly. That type of thinking is on the same level as those who do not embrace their chocolate skin. Self imposed dysfunctional beauty standards irritate me to no end.

It's all a process though. Its hard to break through everything we've been taught about how our hair is supposed to look.  I love her to death and in my eyes, she could do no wrong, but my grandma used to give me the side eye of DOOM when I'd walk in her house with an afro. Aint no telling what she would do if she saw me looking like this lol

My opinion rests here: Good hair is HEALTHY HAIR. The most beautiful hair you could have, is the hair that grows out of your own head. :)

Where I've Been, Where I'm Going, Update on "Crazy 24 Text Msgs" Guy, RIP Black Magic, Music, and Love (Or the Lack Thereof)

That is a long azz title because there is a lot going on in this blog. Bear with me.

Hola, readers! How ya been?

On my last blog, I promised that I would share with you what has been going on in my life. I guess I'll do a lil list since it's been a loooong time since I gossiped about my shenanigans on this here blog.

1. First things first, I must confess: I have been cheating on blogspot with twitter. I'm sorry but it's so much easier to rant or rave through that particular channel of online interaction. When I blog, I TAKE FOREVER. Like seriously, I don't even know what I be doin because I write pretty fast, but it never fails: the shortest amount of time it takes me to post a blog is maybe two hours. And that's only if I'm not distracted by a phone call, an online convo, or tv. Compare that to me taking 30 seconds to send a tweet through Tweed on my Pre. So yeah, that's where I've been. Sorry *sad puppy dog eyes*

2. Never fear though. I feel a Twitter break coming on. No particular reason, other than I'm turning into a crackhead because of it. So...you'll probably see more of me here.

3. Like I explained in my posts about the ending of me and TLOML, I am no longer the Date Master. I have now taken on the role of the Lonely Old Maid, or LOM for short. Life as the LOM is extremely exciting. I get to do things like spend Saturday nights watching movies that I've rented from Netflix, cuddle up with my Snuggie (don't hate), catch up on my blog reading, think about adopting a kitten or two, and I'm going to learn how to knit or sew while slowly rocking in a rocking chair near the window. I know all of that sounds too good to be true, so don't be jealous lol In addition, I usually go out for a drink or 3 or 7 once a week, and hang out with friends. I'm quite content with it. It's much better than having drama with a cute idiot every two weeks. A few people (on Twitter) have even discussed partnering with me in opening The Vivica A. Fox Institure of Old Maidenhood, where we share tips and advice on being a single woman FOREVER! lol

4. I moved three weeks ago. It was a tough decision, but...I moved back home with my mama. I got tired of it taking so long to pay off my debt. I figure, if I have no rent to pay, I shall be debt free by March. This move broke my heart in more ways then one: I LOVED MY APARTMENT. The building, my neighborhood, my short commute to work, my close proximity to downtown Oakland's night life. *sigh* I also HELLA LOVE OAKLAND. but my mama doesn't live there. *pout* Add to that, the fact that even though I am an only child, my mom and I aren't exactly best friends. She hasn't really grasped the idea of me being grown yet, so I imagine her waking me up at 9a on a Saturday, making me do chores and setting a curfew for me. She promised she wouldn't act like that, but I've know this woman ALL my life, so my side eye has been enabled just in case. So far, so good...but it's only been three weeks.

5. My car, the former "Black Magic", most recently christened "Black Miracle", has been laid to rest. Three weeks ago, in the midst of transporting some of my things to storage during my move, I was hit head on while sitting at a stop sign. The woman who hit me was in a pickup truck and made a left turn right into me. She must have been daydreaming and then panicked and hit the GAS instead of the brake, resulting in her pushing my car a few feet away. Luckily no one was hurt (even though the woman jumped out her car, all dramatic talmbout "my chest, my shoulder, I cant breeeeve", like Ezell from Friday; when I told her I would call the ambulance, she suddenly calmed the hell down. Both me and my little 8 yr old cousin rolled our eyes at that one). Black Miracles's entire front drivers side was smashed and the drivers side door was messed up to the point that it could no longer open.

7. My prayers were answered. My new home happens to be a very long and nerve wracking commute away from my job. I'd already decided that I would have to sell my car and buy a new one because it definitely wouldn't last long in the traffic (my commute used to be 13 minutes, but now its close to an hour each way *pout*) and I was ready for a new car anyway. BUT...I knew I'd have to put some money into it in order to sell it. There were a few times that I'd whispered to Jesus, "Lawd, please let somebody hit this raggedy car WHILE I'M NOT IN IT". Well, I got half of my prayers answered. My car was totaled out and I'm getting 2x the amount for it than I would have sold it for. I can't wait to get something new in RED.

8. The only time I sit around wishing I had a man is when it comes to dealing with cars. I'm not a girly girl...unless you bring up car specifics. Then I morph into Anna Nicole Smith. I am CLUELESS. And its one of those aspects of life that I refuse to learn more about on my own. I NEED SOMEBODY TO TEACH ME! Preferably, someone chocolate with dimples and defined arms. Everything else, I don't mind researching on my own, but car facts give me the heebie jeebies. I'm allergic to anything dealing with science, math, and cars, so if there is a man who wants to find the best car for me and my commute, and in addition, wants to go to the dealership and negotiate the best price for me, I will gladly give him the big piece of chicken.

8. The guy with the 24 tweets struck again. If you dont know what I'm talking about, click on this link--> LINK.

So two weeks after the initial 24 text messages incident, I'm chillin at church, minding my business trying to praise the Lawd, when my phone begins to vibrate. It's kind of hard for me to ignore my phone, so I check it. And guess who it is?

Answer your phone!

Since my phone hasn't rang, I assume that he has sent me the text on accident, so I respond:

Erase my #

I figure, there is no reason why my number should be in his phone and to prevent such an accident from ever happening again, deleting my number is the best way to go.

My mistake I accidently sent that text to U. I happen to know more than one Nakia but do erase your Colonized Mindset! I'm not your ENEMY! U R! (here we go again *sigh)

LMAO Thats why I said erase it so you dont accidentally text me. Seems like you have more than 1 Nakia who doesn't want to hear from you since you have to yell at her to answer her phone when you call. Peace.

Not exactly because we're on my home phone at this very moment and we've been friends since the 2nd grade. Do the math, and dont assume if you dont know (well he told me, didn't he?)

Lmao boy bye. Stop texting me . What part of that don't you understand? YOU do the math.

I'm no one's boy, SLAVE! U need mental reconditioning, find your way back to Essence.

At this point, this fool has me cracking up in church. He ain't nothing but the DEVIL!

You dont take rejection well, do you? Calling people names just because they don't want to talk to you. You sound like a little kid. ERASE MY NUMBER ERASE MY NUMBER ERASE MY NUMBER ERASE MY NUMBER ERASE MY NUMBER ERASE MY NUMBER ERASE MY NUMBER ERASE MY NUMBER ERASE MY NUMBER ERASE MY NUMBER

That last text finally did the trick. No word from "Cookoo for Cocoa Puffs" since then. All is good in the land of suga and honey.

9. I have become a make up addict. I dont know where this came from but playing in make up is so much fun. To be honest, I really want to take some classes so I can learn how to do it professionally. In the meantime, if you drop your kids off at my house, do not act surprised if they look like Tammy Faye Baker when you pick them up. I mean, I gotta practice on somebody...

10. As our second selection, my book club is reading PUSH by Sapphire. I just started it yesterday and my sad face is already on a hundred thousand trillion. I hope we can all get through the book, though. Only three people, including myself, read the first book selection, which was "Pleasure" by Eric Jerome Dickey. I'm not a fan of erotica and I only like EJD every now and then, but our discussion was off the hook(with about three mimosas in my system, anything is liable to be "off the hook", though). Very interesting. We shall see how our book discussion on PUSH and our subsequent trip to the movies turns out. I'm just so happy that I am part of a local book club, that I don't know what to do with myself. HAPPY, HAPPY, JOY, JOY!

11. I recently read On Beauty by Zadie Smith on my own. This is the only book that I have read by her, even though she is the author of the very successful novel, White Teeth. I saw On Beauty on sale at the bookstore one day, bought it on a whim, and started reading it on the plane coming from Miami back in August. The beginning is very slow, and had I not been bored on a plane, I would have put it down and never picked it up again. After the first few chapters, though, I began to LOVE it. Zadie is brilliant in my eyes, and I'll just leave it at that.

12. Music in HEAVY rotation:

Ledisi's, Changes: it has been a heart healer

Trey Songz', Ready: no, I am not a teeny bopper and yes I LOVE HIS ALBUM, especially "One Love", "Ready to Make Love", "Jupiter Love", "Black Roses", "Love Lost", "Holla If You Need Me", and "Yo' Side of the Bed"

Eric Roberson's, Music Fan First: "A Tale of Two", "Dealing" and "Break It Down" are my favs

And when I'm feeling like a bad girl, I'll throw on Electrik Red's, How To Be A Lady, Pt. 1. Don't judge me!

I feel like adding Wale to my list of future baby daddies, so I'mma need his album to fall into my lap real soon.

11. I thought I loved him, but I have discovered it that it was something much smaller and sadder than that particular emotion. I have decided that claiming that it was love is disrespectful to the real thing. So I will say that it was...blankety blank. Yeah, thats it. Blankety Blank. :)

So...what ya'll been up to?

I Know, I Know...

I need to win an award for "Most Inconsistent Blogger." Can they make that a category for the Black weblog awards next year?

Funny because I get on a roll and start blogging out the ying yang and then *BAM*

Nothing.

I'd even gotten so caught up in blogging that I started planning a blog makeover in my head. I was ready to start taking it to a new, higher level, with ads (to make money of course) and a set schedule, blogging 4 times a week. I even consulted a good friend of mine for a new blog design and then *BAM*

Nothing.

My  bad.

Alot has happened since our last chit chat. I shall explain it all in another blog.

First off, I must give a shout out to my cousin/brother up in heaven, Aquaylis Adonis Chavis. He would have been 30 today. I'd planned to celebrate with a never ending bottle of grey goose (since he seemed to keep a bottle on his person at all times lol), but I did too much with the margaritas at Taco Tuesdays (shout out to Lake Chalet), so I think a need a 24 hour break from alcohol.

Last year, our first year without him, it was easy to celebrate. We ushered in our first Black President, so it was quite enjoyable. This year, who knows? Maybe I'll just grab a handful of butterfingers from the leftover Halloween candy and celebrate by gaining 5 lbs.

I've finally come to grips with how my cousin was taken from me. Still haven't come to grips with how he was taken from his daughter, though, but time heals. I do have alot of guilt, though. ALOT. Suddenly, I feel like there had to be something, anything that I could have done to prevent what happened, something that could have led him to an alternate lifestyle.

Two Sundays ago, my church had their Annual Men's Empowerment Day. At the end of service, there were a few young men, hard exterior on display, who came to the altar for prayer. It was extremely humbling to see young men who would probably otherwise roll their eyes at a preacher, come before the altar, ask for prayer, with tears streaming down their face. For some reason, Aquaylis came to mind suddenly, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop my own tears from coming up and spilling over. Why couldn't he be here for this? To see men just like him, let all that bravado go just for a minute to ask for love, help, forgiveness, understanding? It was heartbreaking. And that's when I started blaming myself for never talking to him about his actions, never being a shoulder for him to let off steam in a more positive way, never encouraging him to look for answers in places other than the streets.

There were plenty of times that I could have invited him to church with me, but I didnt. There were plenty of times when I could have called him to see if he'd been working on those changes he'd always tell me about, but I wouldnt. And I started to feel really bad, right then and there because I remember all the times that he would get in trouble or mess up really bad, and I would just sigh and say "That's Aquaylis" as if him living his life any other way wasnt even an option. I'd gotten used to it. I went from having compassion, to being mad at him (refusing to visit him in jail or write to him), to becoming seriously indifferent. "Well, if thats how you want to live your life, than so be it" became my motto.

We were on two different paths, living completely opposite lives. He constantly did things that I'd never understand, so I let it go.

But when we have people in our lives like this, isn't it our job to help them?

I think back to a time when I was a freshman in college on winter break. My mom and I had gotten into it something terrible and I was pissed off enough to call myself halfway moving in with my grandmother until my second semester started. I hadnt talked to my mom in a few days and I planned on keeping it that way for a while. One day, while walking up to my grandmother's house, Aquaylis happened to be hanging outside. He stopped me before I went in.

"Why haven't you talked to Neicy (my mom)?"

*rolls eyes* Because I dont want to talk to her.

Man, Nakia. You're better than that. You can't be acting like that.

Whatever.

I tried to move forward to get into my grandmother's house, but he blocked my path.

I'm just saying, whatever it is, it aint that serious.

I dont feel like talking about this now.

Well regardless, I'm telling you, you're better than that. You know you're mom loves you. And you're too much of a goody two shoes to be falling out with your mom, so stop acting stubborn.

Me? Acting stubborn? Thats her. I havent done anything wrong.

This time, he rolled his eyes at me.

Nakia, stop acting like that. You are not like that and you  know it. Just stop acting like that and talk to your mom. You're busy trying to stay out all night and party and stuff. You're mom just worries cuz she loves you. So stop acting like that!

Boy dont be tryna yell at me!

He chuckled.

I'm just saying, Nakia. You're better than that.

This conversation was very weird to me. My cousin and I always had this hate/hate relationship, where we'd fight and argue and be smart asses toward each other. There was never too much of showing how we cared about one another, other than thru birthday gifts and what not. It kinda made me smile. A few of the things he said to me during that conversation made me think that he thought highly of me, even though I was "the little cousin". So even though my grandmother and a few friends had previously told me to stop trying to be a rebel, it wasnt until 'Quay pulled me aside, that I really thought about my actions and decided to straighten things out with my mom.

This brings me to wonder: why didnt I ever pull him aside in his times of trouble, and say "Hey! Stop it!" I'd hear my grandmother, mom and uncle and other family members try to convince him to fly right, but I'd never chime in. Maybe it was because I was "the little cousin" and thought that he wouldn't listen to lil old me. Maybe it was because I felt like he us living inside two different worlds, made me clueless, so why waste my breath? Maybe it was because that was just him. so why ask him to change?

I really dont know why I never sat down to talk to him about his issues and problems. I might have been too self absorbed, felt too young, been too busy...or thought he was invincible. But now, I wish I'd talked to him, nagged him to death about staying out of Oakland, written him letters and sent him books when he was locked up, introduced him to a better life someway, some how, if only for the sake of his daughter.

But whats done is done. And all that I can really do now is learn from his life and try not to duplicate it with my own future sons. I can keep his memory alive in my heart and mind, and laugh and smile at our stories growing up together as our mothers' only children and our grandmother's closest grands.  I can talk to his daughter non stop about her crazy daddy and the things we'd get in trouble for, and how he would tap me on my nose repeatedly to piss me off.  I can embrace the good things that I got from our cousin/sibling relationship (if it weren't for him beating me up everyday, I would have never learned how to protect myself lmao).  I can talk about him now without getting sad, speak on him as if he's still on the block over near Apgar, 37th, MLK, West Street and wherever else he used to be. I run into guys all the time who swear they know me and after playing the "Do you know such and such?" game, it usually boils down to me being the quiet girl who was Aquaylis' cousin. And I really don't mind that, especially when they say things like, "I used to ask about you, but he wasn't having that!"

Ha, my cousin, always The Protector. If he had his way, I'd be a lonely old maid for life.

HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY, COUSIN!

I promise to update you before the end of the week, about my crazy life. ALOT HAS CHANGED. Stay tuned *wink*

The End of TLOML: What Had Happened Was... Pt III

Blogger's Note: This post is the third, and last, installment in a series explaining my most recent break up with a man most commonly referred to as The Love of My Life or TLOML, but who will go down in history as Jerky McJerkface. If you are late, the first two installments can be found here and here.

I was so hurt. Even though I was devastated by Jerky McJerkface's confession, I actually contemplated getting over the hurt that he'd caused to work it out with him...and then he does THIS?! Suddenly, I'm told that I don't deserve an apology, and that I'm hurt because I'm choosing to be hurt because, according to him, he's done nothing wrong. Talk about an emotional roller coaster!!

We ended up talking on the phone about the situation. In the midst of the conversation, he said some hurtful things...just because. Not because I deserved them or because I'd cursed him or done anything to provoke him. Nope. He just felt like hurting me even more because he had the power to do so. And at this point, I realized that the man that I'd spent this past year with, has never, ever, ever cared about me. All of those "I love you's" were just something to say. In the midst of our conversation, I reminded him of how less than 24 hours prior, he'd said I was the best GF he's ever had, couldn't live with out me, the perfect woman. Right then and there, he took it all back.

Suddenly, I was the one who was in the wrong. *smh*

I guess I was just entertainment, someone to pass the time with when he got bored. And it hurt like hell to come to that realization, but sometimes it has to hurt like hell before you can walk away and NOT turn back.

We'd had such a tumultuous history, one that consisted of me walking away, but always coming back. Four years of me coming back. I do believe that this last incident was God's way of making sure I wouldn't go back, couldn't go back. suga definitely doesn't do verbal abuse (or any other kind of abuse) and he was teetering and leaning heavily toward the edge with what he was nonchalantly allowing to fall out of his mouth. After this incident/confession, I'd have to be mentally ill to think that God would want me with a man like Jerky McJerkface.

Alot of other stuff happened between then and now. He eventually half azzed apologized two weeks later, AFTER I came back from NY. He made a very sorry attempt to right his wrongs, but it was just plain to see that we weren't meant to be. And like @Vandalyzm shared on twitter yesterday, "I love me enough to know [that] you don't love me enough."

In conclusion, this was THEE dumbest relationship I have ever been in in my life. Dumb, dumb, dee dumb dumb!! And didn't I write about how dumb in love I was a few months back? I was being sarcastic with that post, but this proves that there is always truth in every joke.

But, like I said in that blog, this was my one chance to be stupid in love. Never happened before, and now that The Date Master is dead and has been replaced by The Lonely Old Maid, it will surely never happen again. But even if the Date Master were to be resurrected, I'd gravitate to good guys like I always have. I guess Jerky McJerkface was my one time to test the waters with one of Satan's stepchildren.

Jerky McJerkface proved himself to be the most selfish man on earth, but I don't blame him solely for what we've been through. If I was silly enough to fall in love with the most selfish man on earth, then I share half of the blame for this dumb azz love affair.

But it's over now.

I have my days when I miss him.

I have my days when I want to set his car on fire with him in it.

I have my days when I ask God, "Why would you even allow me to meet a man like that? What did I do to deserve that? Huh, God? Huh?! Do ya hear me?! I said, 'What did I do to deserve to cross paths with such an evil man?!'"

I have my days when I feel like the heaviest burden has been lifted from my shoulders, and I want to shout "I'se free!! I'se free!!" and do the butterfly at the playground down the street.

I have my days when I daydream about one day being super fly and sexy, running into him, and him saying to himself, "What the eff was I smoking to mess that up? I am such a dumb azz", regretting the sadness he put me though (I know this will never happen, because you can't regret losing what you never really wanted, but a girl can day dream, can't she?)

I have my days... wait no... I had 10 minutes when I shed four tears..and thats it. Cuz I'm a G.

I have my days when I'm slightly grateful that I was involved with him because he definitely taught me how to be a good girlfriend and love someone with no expectation...since I basically got nothing in return* from his selfish behind.

I must say, the next man will be a lucky one. I've grown a lot, learned how to compromise. Surprisingly, being with someone who is selfish, taught me how NOT to be selfish in a relationship. That only child syndrome had me doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and if you didn't like it, then you were welcome to leave. But being with someone who shared the same sentiment showed me how dysfunctional, destructive, and hurtful that kind of mindset can be in relationships. So in essence, being with Jerky McJerkface, taught me how to really LOVE.

Yay for learning a lesson through a broken relationship and not feeling like it was a waste of time, even though sometimes I do believe it was a waste of time!

"Most of us love from our need to love, not because we find someone deserving."

Someone posted this Nikki Giovanni quote on Twitter a few months back. I think this sums up why the fourth time around, I fell in love with Jerky McJerkface. I was ready to love and NEEDED to love someone, and he was familiar enough for that to happen. This is why I am not as sad as I think I should be. I needed to love someone. Too bad the person on the receiving end didnt want it or deserve it.

Let's just hope the next man actually does deserve it, though. Let's hope he knows the definition of reciprocity. And lets hope, that if he doesn't, it won't take me a year ending with a bombshell, to come to my senses.

If there is a next man...









*Ok, I did get some things in return from Jerky McJerkface: Fun dates. We had some special times together. He made me laugh, spent money out the wazoo, acted like a gentleman, and all that jazz. Funny how my girl's mom asked about us just a few weeks ago because she thought we were the cutest couple. Everybody who spent time around us thought we were great together. So, I can't sit here now that it's over and pretend like it was the most horrible relationship ever. But I also can't pretend like the fun dates and special times were worth the hurt he put me through these last two months. Instead of fun dates and special times, I could have been busy watching my DVR, as full as it is. I could have been reading a book or two. I could have been writing a book...or two. I'm just saying, I've never been one of those women who HAS to have a man. I know how to entertain myself. I am an only child, after all. And if a year of fun dates and special times, ends in knowing that the man I love doesn't give a *$%& about my life, then I'm not too sure it was worth it. So, that's why I'm saying I got nothing in return. ~Kanye shrug~

The End of TLOML: What Had Happened Was... Pt II

Blogger's Note: This post is the second installment in a series explaining my most recent break up with a man most commonly referred to as The Love of My Life or TLOML, but who will go down in history as Jerky McJerkface. If you are late, the first installment can be found here.





We go back to my house, talk about it more. I tell him that I still don't know what to do, but he needs to be prepared for me to go off on him something crazy once his news is fully processed. He says he knows the time will come and he deserves it, and he'd actually expected my reaction to be alot worse when he initially told me, but my silence had scared him even more. Hmph!

He falls asleep and I stay up ALL night, well at least til 4a, thinking, thinking, thinking. What the hell am I gonna do? This is the most major eff up a man could do to a woman he loves. I'm totally not a forgiving person, but something in me kept telling me to work it out, be a good little girlfriend and have his back. And another something kept telling me, "Don't be stupid. Move on!"

In the morning, he is still in his lovey dovey mode. We sit up half of the morning, talking, talking, talking, avoiding the obvious, pretending like everything is fine. He has errands to run so eventually he has to leave. Right before he walks out, I remind him of something he said he would do to show how apologetic he was for this "secret", a gesture to really show me that he wants this to work, something he'd promised to do. Suddenly, he says he's changed his mind and doesn't want to do it anymore.

Huh?

He says he'll do something else. I ask what it will be. He flippantly pulls an idea out of his azz, and gets mad when I say that I'd rather him do what he initially promised he'd do. My response infuriates him and suddenly he tells me that he owes me nothing and he never did anything wrong in the first place.

Que?

He goes into a tirade about how he could have kept this devastating news to himself and I should be happy that he told me and I shouldn't expect him to make anything up to me for lying...because he never actually lied.

I am standing in my living room in utter disbelief. Less than 24 hours ago, this man pleaded with me to stand by his side, even though he'd hit me where it HURT, told me he'd do WHATEVER he needed to do to make us work, but suddenly, he never did anything wrong. And then he bursts out with, "Yeah, maybe this isn't going to work. I'm better off single".

Oh...now you're better off single because I'm asking you to do what you promised to do in the first place? I'm suddenly in the wrong now?

I just simply walked to my door and told him to get out. No yelling, arguing, screaming...nothing. Just walked to my door, opened it, and said "Leave."

And then in dramatic fashion, after closing the door, I ran to my room, flung myself onto my bed and cried a thousand tears (yes, I counted) into my pillows and comforter.

~TO BE CONTINUED~

The End of TLOML: What Had Happened Was...

The thought occurred to me that I've been slightly unfair to my readers. In August, I announced that TLOML and I officially split...and that was that. At the time, I was extremely busy with my offline life, vacationing, being lazy, and I kinda didn't feel like talking about what happened between us.

You guys have listened and read my blogs about him, given support and laughed with me, while sharing your own issues in relationships. So it hit me: how could I share so much about our relationship, and then just abruptly tell ya'll that it's over with no explanation?

Well, thats an easy question. It's my blog and I'll do what I want. lol

Plus, I hadn't told ANYBODY what happened. That story was going with me to my grave. But then I told my mama. And my IBF. And one of my girls. And as I shared my story, it made letting go a little bit easier. So the other day, I figured, what the heck! Let ya blog family know!

At the end of August, completely out of the blue, TLOML let me know he wanted a break..through a text message. Eventually, we talked about it, and he tried to convince me that the break had nothing to do with me. I'd done nothing wrong, I was perfect, blah blah blah. It sounded fishy as hell to me. We'd had a blast for my birthday, and had a blast the following weekend. What was this about?

If you follow me on Twitter, around this time, I'd been tweeting about writing him a "Dear John" letter because he'd been getting on my nerves lately with his antics. But then came my birthday and he went ALL out for me. So I figured, hmmm...maybe I should stick around. But then he hit me with the, "I need a break" line, right before I left for Miami. So we eventually agreed to meet up once I got back from Miami, to discuss where ever the hell the pulled this "I need a break" crap from.

Right before I left for Miami, I posted the blog about us being over, because thats what I expected. We were over. I'm too old to be taking breaks from relationships for no reason. It sounded stupid, juvenile and extremely dysfunctional. I was so tired our dysfunctional relationship. I had a lot of time to think on the beach, so I'd decided that no matter what happened at our supposed meeting, no matter how much I loved him, we'd both leave single.

When I got back to California, we talked and he mentioned missing me. *side eye* This was totally unexpected, mainly because he had a serious attitude before I left and seemed totally unconcerned about "us". Now you miss me? Hmmm...

So we meet up. And he falls right back into our usual relationship-ey stuff..and my silly butt falls right on in to it, too. But my side eye is still on alert. We go out to eat and he's being extra lovey dovey, which is totally unlike him. After we order our food, I tell him to cut the crap, lets delve into why we were meeting. He was very hesitant, wanted to wait until the food arrived, kept changing the subject...so I just sat there silent while he asked me questions about Miami, about my job, my friends. All answered with silence.

Finally, he decided to explain why he felt we needed a break. It took him forever. He dilly dallied ALL over the place, giving me a long drawn out background story that had nothing to do with anything. What is he so scared about, I wondered.

Then, he dropped a BOMBSHELL. The hugest bombshell a man can drop on a woman, short of saying he's married or anything health related. Something he'd been keeping from me the ENTIRE year we'd been dating. I won't delve into the bombshell due to it's personal nature*, but just think of one of the worst things the man you love could tell you, and pretend like thats what TLOML dropped on me.

I honestly didnt speak for 20 minutes. I let him speak. Our food came. He spoke some more. He asked if I wanted to leave. I couldn't move. I think I stared at my hands in my lap for 10 minutes, and then at the baseball game that was on tv. I was devastated. I wanted to cry so bad, but G's don't cry in public so I just took in a few huge gulps of air until the feeling went away.

And then he turned around and told me that because he'd been keeping this secret from me, he hadn't been able to give me all of him, or be a good boyfriend. In the beginning he wanted to tell me, but he figured there was no point since we would usually just date for one or two months and he would do something to piss me off and I would leave him. So why ruin it with this ridiculous news? And when he saw that I wasn't going anywhere and we got in too deep, he figured telling me would ruin our entire relationship, and he didnt want me mad at him, we had such good times together. Why ruin it (selfish bastard!)?

So, the prior week when he'd told me he wanted a break, he was supposedly trying to piss me off so I would break it off with him because he realized that I would have to know this "secret" eventually, but he didnt want to tell me. He felt it would be best that he did something to make ME end it. What kinda juvenile game is this?!? His little plan almost worked too...until I went on vacation and suddenly he realized that he couldn't live without me, I'm the best woman he's ever had by his side and because he's never had such a good thing, he didnt know how to act when he got what he'd always wanted from a woman blah blah blah.

"I dont want to live without you. So I figured I'd roll the dice, tell you whats been going on, and hopefully, we can work on us, be fully committed, me and you. I love you too much to let you walk away from me."

*silence*

I have to be honest and say that even though I was deeply hurt by what he'd just told me, I was deeply moved by his plea to keep me around. TLOML has never really been vocal about his feelings, so even though I wanted to stab him in his nose, something in the back of my head was saying, "Don't do anything crazy. Think about EVERYTHING he just said before you get to stabbing."

So, I finally spoke. I explained that I didnt know how to deal with his news, didnt know how to deal with his desire to be seriously committed to me, I didnt know what to do at all. I mean, I knew that I needed to walk away from his ass with the quickness, but for some reason, my heart was like "Um, you sure you want to walk away from this man? Did you just hear him say your the perfect woman for him and he cant live without you?!?!"

The heart can get you in a world of trouble, though. My brain was saying, "Girl, slap him and walk out the restuarant...NOW! If he did this, ain't no telling what he will do next. He doesn't deserve to be with 'the perfect woman', especially if that woman is you!"

I should have listened to my brain. I should have told him to leave, that this was over. "We had a good run but I will never be able to trust you again, and this confession further proves that you're heartless and evil. Siyonara!"

But I didn't. And of course, in less than 24 hours, I ended up regretting giving him the benefit of the doubt.

TO BE CONTINUED....

*I'm sorry but I really can't share what he confessed to doing. It is very personal. I also don't want him to suddenly start reading my blog (he tends to do that when we break up) and be mad about his business being on the innanets. I'm not worried about his feelings...it's just less drama for me to deal with. So you can go ahead and try to guess, but I'm not budging on that one. Like I said, just imagine it being one of the worst things a man can do to a woman (or vise versa), minus anything health related, or dealing with marriage/relationships with other women (or men!).

"Can't When for Loosing"

I have decided that The Date Master must die.

Yes, having such a role does provide for free meals, movies, new friends, and good times. But there is also a bad side to it. And I'm sick of the bad side.

Last week, I quickly penned a blog about not being able to date men who don't have a sense of humor. I'm silly, and laughter makes up 64% of my life. As I explained in the blog, I wouldn't be able to lead a happy life with someone who cant handle sarcasm and doesn't like to laugh.

There was a particular reason why I penned this blog. Last Monday, I had the day off from work for some unfamiliar holiday. I decided to wash clothes at the wash house a few blocks away from my house, since I have a disdain for the laundry facilities in my building.

While loading my clothes into the dryer, I notice that a young man keeps glancing my way. He is ka-yoooooot. He doesn't speak though, so I leave to run a few errands while my clothes dry.

When I come back, as I'm unloading the dryer, he sparks up a convo. We find out that we attended the same high school (I was a freshman the year after he graduated). We end up talking for nearly an hour while I fold my clothes. During the conversation, I notice that he talks ALOT...about stuff that isn't too interesting, but he's cute. I chalked it up to nervousness. Plus, cute guys get a pass every now and then, right? So when he asks me for my number, I hand it over.

Once I get home, I think about our hour long exchange, and come to the conclusion that there was no spark whatsoever. NONE! "But he was cute, suga", I tell myself. "Give him a chance."

Two days later, he calls. And we embark on THE MOST BORING CONVERSATION IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD. To be honest, I can't even tell you what we talked about because I kept zoning out or tweeting about how slitting my wrists felt like complete bliss compared to what was going on on my phone.

The bad thing about it was the fact that I didn't know how to end the conversation. He kept droning on and on and on and on. There were 3 or 4 times when I tried to crack a joke to add some spice to the conversation, but he either didnt get it or tried to delve deep into the joke to better understand it. MAJOR FAIL.

There was a point when I tried to change whatever subject he was on, and asked what he did for a living. He flat out refused to answer, saying that he doesn't believe in the American conventional way of getting to know the opposite sex. "No interviews!", he said. I told him that I was an American (and I thought he was, too), and I'm not familiar with the processes in other nations, so he'd have to compromise. He eventually told me he was unemployed and does "artistic stuff".

I have to be honest and say that I also don't like the typical interviews one must deal with after exchanging numbers with a new guy, but he was just sooooooooo boring, I needed to jump into the conversation and change the flow of things some kind of way.

I finally tell him that I'm headed to bed. Mind you, it was around 9:15p. And I'm a night owl. I was probably in middle school the last time I fell asleep before midnight. He then drags out the good bye another 15 minutes. Good Lord.

Right then and there, I made the decision that this wasn't going to work. And since we'd only had one conversation, I figured it wouldn't be a big deal.

I did wonder how I would have to end it, though. I mean, how does one NICELY tell another person, "Don't ever call me again", followed by "Because nothing about you interests me, other than the fact that you're cute, but that wore off the second you opened your mouth."

To be honest, I usually just ignore dudes once they irk me to the point of no return. But suga is getting older and I try to stick by the motto of treating others how I would like to be treated. If a guy doesn't want me calling him anymore, I'd prefer that he tell me, instead of leaving me to figure it out on my own. So, I told myself, "Self, the next time you talk to him, let him know that you should go your separate ways".

Well, suga aint as brave as she thought she was. He sent me a couple hundred texts and I just ignored them. Then he called a few times...and I just sent him to voice mail. I felt so bad, mainly because he's a nice guy, cool, seemed genuinely interested in me (other than the fact that he barely let me talk while on the phone). I'm not really used to turning the nice guy down. Curse me out or stand me up and I'll tell ya to ya face to drop dead, but a guy whose done nothing but be a cool person who just talks too much? Thats a hard one.

Finally, this past Friday, while headed out for a drink at a local lounge, he calls. I missed the call, not on purpose this time, but because I was driving. As I'm parking my car, I see that he has sent me a text:

Did I say something to you to not want to accept my calls.

Well, once he asked that, I figured it was as good a time as any to let him know how I felt.

I'm sorry. I just don't think we're compatible.

There was no response, so I figured that was the end of that, and I headed on into the lounge with a few friends. Boy, was I mistaken. This boy ended up sending me the longest textual response in history, totaling 24 messages. TWENTY FOUR!

They started about 15 minutes into my nightly social activities (aka vodka consumption). The spaces between lines indicate a new message:

Wow! Just like that. And thats your concept of how to communicate your feelings to me? Is that growth or maturity? (huh?) Whats your basis for your conclusion?

I was trying to build and get to know u and vice versa and that is resistance in general but you grow from that to understanding its always been a meeting

of the minds. U can't expect me to fully grasp the concept of u from one encounter unless your typical which I am not.

I really believe your viewing my personality from the wrong perspective because I'm not your enemy. (How is me saying "we arent compatible", translated to "You are my enemy"? What is his thinking process?) What is the problem with us, African Americans,

is it that much self hate? What standard or criteria are u comparing our compatibilities to? (Um...it's I know what I like, and it aint you!) But with all that said, u may be right judging from your choice

of how to communicate that decision to me. So I overstand and respect u as a black woman and remember knowledge of self is key then worldly.

Take care and be safe! :)

? (Why the question mark? lol)

Oh, so I elaborate too much? Ok your opinion (so he figured out he talks to much? lol but yet he doesn't shut up) but I was trying to create some dialog to further overstand you. Get to the root cause, I never mentioned us

being uncompatible (there is something about people making up words during a rant that makes their argument lose ALL credibility lol) because I felt totally the opposite. Forgive me for being diplomatic, I put forth this effort because my interest in u is genuine other

wise why would I bother to contest beautiful, have patients (<---major fail), give us some time if you will, get to know me! I guess one can't when for loosing. (<--fail again)

By this time, he is messing with my tipsyness..and suga don't play that.

I'm not interested. Sorry. No need for more texts. Thanks.

Of course, that didn't help.

Ok typical educated black woman who wasnt even mature enough to speak to me like an adult or woman, using juvenile tactics, I will never be typical

or easily pliable for anyone! My principles! Get some! (Well he told me, didnt he? lol) Maybe u should try dating American mentalized (<-- he done made up another word again) guy's or the Tyra Banks type because I'm about elevation,

a non typical concept.

Can you please stop texting me. It is not that serious.

Self hate is very serious, especially since u judged, condemned, and executed me (<---talk about being dramatic!!!) with it without even giving me a chance

just like some aspects of society ask Dr. John Henrik Clarke (I guess because I told him I was a Black studies major, he thought throwing out that name would impress me? Uh...no) and a few others. I know you like to read :) No intentional disrespect with the text,

I still love you as a person and admire your existence (you met me 5 days ago. Really?), I dont think with emotions (Are ya sure? Because this tirade is far from logical) I think with wisdom, respect my mind and I shall respect yours.

Your shallow. Don't gas yourself.

Live your life out of corny fantasy idealistic pop culture books, Tyra! Your not even your "type" and thats a limitation. Fake superficial "black

girl lost". (How did he come up with this conclusion?) U can never go too far with the truth or righteousness. Read books that help u interact with your people more efficiently. Not the typical

"American Made Male" and or guy. (And or? I thought males WERE guys. Silly me) I'm sure you want a spineless male you can control so attract what u are. But you gave your number to a man you dont like.

Yes, it sounded like you were questioning me from a script thats why I said no interviews with your fake mainstream concept.

What in the frickin frackin world was this man smoking when I told him that I was no longer interested? Geez Louise! Now granted, maybe I should have just told him over the phone that I wanted to cease contact, but I still dont think answering his question through a text message warranted alla that. I feel like I was doing him a favor. He didnt get used for a few free meals and movies until I got tired of him, did he? I nipped that in the bud, saved him time and money, and this is the thanks I get? Being disturbed while trying to enjoy this deliciousness?!!?!



His conclusion of me being superficial and fake really bothered me, mainly because we didnt talk enough for him to get that vibe for me. Like I said above, he barely let me talk. The only thing he knew about me was the fact that we attended the same high school and that I lived near the laundry mat. I'm not saying all men do this, but I tend to run across men in blogs and offline, who automatically assume because a woman doesn't want him, she must want a thug or a baller, she's superficial blah blah blah, when usually the case is just that you aren't her type. Nothing more, nothing less.

After this incident, and another that went down with an ex boo that same night in the midst of the boring guys' tirade (I may blog about such incident. I may not. Who knows?), I have decided that the Date Master is no longer for me. I'm tired of weirdos, unreliables, crazies and 'tards. And since thats who seems to be attracted to me, its time I put on my Lonely Old Maid crown, adopt 2 kittens, and learn how to knit and make quilts.

*sigh*