Archive for the ‘relationships’ Category

Resolutions: Pointless yet expected

Last year I posted my resolutions. I even went as far as making a page on here about them. I can pretty much say if sticking to resolutions were a class I probably made a C- or maybe a D? You can read them all here. But I’m going to recap.

1. Never watch Beaches again. Reminds me too much of a friend I miss dearly. (Check. And that friend and I are in the same zip code now.)

2. Stop yelling every time something doesn’t go my way. (I did pretty well with this one…)

3. Here’s the most common of all: Lose a total of 30 pounds by next year. (Well this didn’t happen. But you can read why here. All I have to say is I have an Oprah excuse.)

4. Keep up calorie-counting. (Um yeah…that got old.)

5. Get over the things I can’t change. That’s a big one. (Bombed.)

6. Make myself more available when it comes to sparking new relationships. It’s time I’ve found grown up events and places (i.e. not bars) to frequent to nab me a man…(First part. Yes. Second part…um yea.)

7. MAKE MORE MONEY. (This did happen. And my photography helped a little as well.)

8. Travel. No excuses of money, time or if I can get people to join me.  (My three-month stint at “love” took me to Vegas.)

9. Get my dream lens…at all costs. A new camera won’t hurt either.  (Check and check. But now I have another dream lens I want.)

10. Complain less. That’s a hard one so I have one caveat: Complain less to people in person and get it all out on my blog.  (I did pretty damn good with this one, considering where I had to start. Only I wish that I blogged more.)

So I’m ready to get going on this year’s set of resolutions that I am going to work like hell to actually complete. This is a new year that I have been waiting for all last year. Last year was a real challenge.

Read my 2009 list after the jump…
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Realizations that travel through Gmail

I’m not really a YouTube watcher. When I get a link or hear about the latest YouTube craze, I look. And then of course there are all of the other videos that pop up on the right side of the screen that taunt you to keep clicking. But I got an email from a great friend that had a link that I took a lot of notice of because it hit home.

I am probably behind in the music scene, I’m a classic rock fan anyway, but the link she sent was this Gnarls Barkley video. The song is called “Who’s Gonna Save My Soul?” It’s enough to actually get me to buy the CD. And I don’t really buy CDs. Who does anymore?

Anyway, here it is.

I feel weird that a music video has made me reflect. I hoped you watched it because here is my tirade:

Why does it work this way? I didn’t really give it much thought. But now that I have on this dark Hurricane Ike day, I can think of one guy who ruined my heart and another who walked away with it. That’s at least the simplisitic version. And both happened at least half a decade ago. Since then I think I don’t really look at men the same. Not that I compare anyone I’ve dated to them, but maybe knowing that I have already gone down that route means that once I try to travel it again, I’m already damaged goods. Yep. I said it. Damaged. Most men will say, “Ah! Told you. Women hold a grudge!” But I’m not bitter. I’m just more aware of what is at stake EVERYTIME I decide to date again. I know how temporary it all is and I’ve yet to be proved wrong. Or feel the need to feel bad about it. It just is.

I’ve grown so much since that first real relationsship. And I’m growing even still, even in this past year. What does it all mean in the end? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s like I said. It just is. Am I supposed to dissect it?

Up the pooper, down the hatch

So the colonoscopy and upper scope are over. They have diagnosed me with hemorrhagic gastritis and reflux esophagitis. They found a polyp in my stomach which is being tested as we speak. And through all this, I didn’t even get ONE CALL from my supposed boyfriend. Doped up on anesthesia, I sent a text:

I had my procedure today. You didn’t even call to see how I was. OK. I get the hint. I’ve let you go. I hope all your dreams come true. I wish you had said goodbye when I asked you to…

I’m still in a dopey fog, and I don’t want to go into that “goodbye” reference. Point is, he didn’t even respond. I was worth THAT much?! After he took me to Vegas, had me meet his family and wanted a committed relationship, I wasn’t even worth the call. What is funny is that everyone else did. Even an old friend I had become kind of estranged with and hadn’t talked to in almost a year. She has been wonderful and checks up on me.

The irony is I would have never got everything checked out like this if I hadn’t got so sick while I was in Vegas. It’s not my fault I haven’t been as fun anymore — I am a shell of my former boozing good time self.

Maybe all this was/is a blessing in disguise. Everything happens for a reason (and other crappy cliches). Or maybe life just sucks.

 

Third date comedy…

For all the yuck in the world (especially life’s wonderful ways to constantly go in the direction you didn’t want), sometimes karma rewards you with something good…(but never without complications).

My latest video of my Eligible Editor series features the guy I’m currently seeing and since it is kind of a silver bullet to a relationship to get into too much detail on a blog, this video is as personal I will get from now on unless something really crazy funny comes up during this interesting courtship. Then that’s another story…

Video: Your lowercase “t” is showing…

Since I’ve been in the doldrums of political madness this week, I’m going to post a slice of funny. Well. I hope it’s funny anyway. Here is a video we shot for work that shows me, the “Eligible Editor” (blah) and her friend getting their handwriting analyzed.

Here’s what I can tell you that wasn’t kid-friendly or good for tape:

1. My “y’s” show that I have a high sex drive. Hum.

2. My “t’s” show that I have a slight self-esteem problem. Really?! I didn’t think I did but maybe that’s just something you don’t really know but just get told to you?

3. Apparently I don’t really have high standards when it comes to men. I don’t know about now but that sure does explain my past flubs!!

Click the pic and enjoy…

http://www.neighborsgo.com/video/618

 

Black women: they don’t want you.

Warning: This is written as stream of consciousness, you find your own clarity. And I’m sure, your own disagreements with me.

Before leaving my home around 10 p.m. last night, I checked the mirror. I didn’t feel that my hair looked it’s best but overall I felt pretty. Makeup was at a minimum. I dabbed on a little scented oil and dashed out the door. The place I was going was unfamiliar to me but I knew what the crowd would be like — artists, poets, talented people who probably have boring day jobs.

Upon reaching my destination, I felt very alone already. The street was quiet. Just a couple walked passed me, hand in hand. Surveying the street before entering, I walked into a quaint bistro — pretty much ready for a glass of wine, beer, some grub. Before deciding on something ridiculously priced, I realized I was right. Artist types. A few wearing those Hunter S. Thompson  stances, a few looking over their notes before approaching the mic, several looking authentic in afros, dreadlocks — no one really taking notice of me but that was fine. A cute couple approached in line after I placed my order. He full of dreads and a nice, dark physic; she with alabaster skin and flowing brown hair. Nice-looking pair I thought and I took my seat.

Then I noticed something. Every black female, including myself, was either alone or with a group of other black females who were alone. For all I know, they had men at home but part of me, cynical me, doubted it. I looked around. Including the couple mention previously, there were two more black male/white female pairings. That usually doesn’t bother me…

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He’s back in your life…now what?

I have been recently contacted by a guy I was seeing. We didn’t end on bad terms, exactly. He just had a lot going on and dropped out of view while I just figured he was a jerk or something (even though he was always a nice guy.) However he has since asked for another shot. Now I’m one to can forgive. But after you have burned me twice, I’ve moved on. Well. I’m giving things another shot. Shot number 2. However I’m very gun-shy about it. How do you let yourself get involved again without all the fear? Do you trust it?

In this case, he said all the right things. Said he made a mistake. Said he wanted another chance and promised no strings attached while he tries to gain my trust I guess. The way my life is right now, I’ve really been focusing on me. But maybe I shouldn’t let that get in the way? I’m such a skeptic. And I don’t expect romance anymore. I just want something stable but at the same time I have finally accepted single life so if it doesn’t work out, going back to the usual won’t be a shock. Many of you, in a round about way, have stated that whole “life is too short” thing in some of my other posts. It is. While it is short, I don’t want a roller-coaster–but I guess that bumpy ride can be fun. Hum. As I twiddle my thumbs, he’s calling shortly. As I twiddle my thumbs I wonder when will I be comfortable with dating again…If I ever really was.

STD free is the life for me…

casual-sex-day.JPGThat may sound like a cheesy PSA or after-school special. But damn it’s so true. Being a single chick in this day and age of crazy STD stats is a tough sport. You kind of feel like saying, “It’s hard out here for a pimp…

Because man, even though I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the things your mama says you shouldn’t, I’m not really feeling like risking things. I get tested every year. And every year feels like, *coughs* dodging a bullet, even when you know you stayed safe. Do I really have to discuss the reliability, or lack there of, when it comes to protection? I hate the word abstinence but I like my life. So if I’m not catching my share of worth-a-crap fish, I’m not going to risk my health on a quick swim. What’s a girl to do when she has a healthy appetite? Good thing I don’t live in Alabama.

Some may say that the stats big bad government gives us are exaggerated. However I highly doubt it. Mainly because it seems like two out of every five people I’ve ever met in my life have or had an STD. I don’t need to Google or go to the library for reinforcements here. That alone is enough. Why is sex so appealing? What a dumb question.

What I should really be asking is why does sex have to be so damn cursed? If you believe in Genesis, then maybe Eve can be our theory. Eve messed up royally grabbing that apple. 280px-shemaylookcleanbut.jpgWas that the beginning of crabs? Did she and Adam get an itchy rash after sharing the bittersweet fruit? I’m not aiming at being blasphemous. I’m really asking. There has to be traceable origin of the first STD which I’m guessing was syphilis. Any STD scholars out there? The ladies over at The Blog of Knowledge have some fun and usable sex-filled advice. Maybe I should ask them… 

But I’ve really digressed. I just want to state the obvious: I have embraced and ranted about being a single gal but we all have needs — even defiant bitches like me. Some folks will tell you to get a FB. I’m not big into the FB stuff. It never ends well and someone always ends up wanting more…OR when the other gets a girlfriend or boyfriend, there went your easy access to booty.

Do I really have to get in a serious relationship to feel safe? And even when you do, man…don’t get me started on cheating. Gee after writing about it, sex seems like too much trouble…

 Here’s a victory dance…

 

Hi, my name is J. and I’m a serial renter…

Is it a disease?

I’ve been renting apartments for nearly ten years now. When does it stop? Geez, my credit isn’t anywhere near the problem I’ve recently discovered. The problem is that I can’t commit. However I don’t think that is the case everywhere in my life. I commit to my work, my drive and my goals. But I just can’t take hold of the idea of settling into a permanent home. I end up saying stuff like, “What if I one day land a job in New York?” Or, “What if I get ballsy enough to drop everything and take up residence in London?” Silly thoughts, actually.

For me the result of serial renting has amounted to collecting and then evaluating. I’ve got crap for just about every room of a real home — all crammed into a measly multi-family establishment. By the time I’ve jumped on to the next place I sit around evaluating what to throw out again. That’s most of the battle. Stuff I got from people I don’t even talk to anymore are the first things I want to get rid of but then I get all sentimental and say maybe I should keep it. Then end up deciding against it because it’s super sad to hold on to things. Constant moving seems to be an exercise of therapy, that’s for sure.

And in fact my serial renting may have something to be said for my idea of relationships. I think I’ve always liked the idea of a relationship but when it comes down to it, I don’t think I could commit fully. I don’t mean cheating. I mean making sacrifices. Married people always say that stuff about marriage being a sacrifice. Fact remains, I like concentrating on just me. Is this vicious, vain circle?

The pros of both settling into a home and settling into a relationship are there. Having a home means no longer having to constantly move. Being your own boss of where you dwell. Having a completely committed relationship means your compromises can bring you closer to your mate.

Both have cons as well, however. Having a home means when there is something broken in the home, you have to hire someone to fix it. Having a completely committed relationship means when something is broken, it’s completely up to you to fix it. Then hire someone if you can’t!

Ok. I’ve confessed. Where are the refreshments? I was told I would get coffee and cookies at this meeting.

I’m single. So what?

I can’t believe I am actually going to say this but I think I’ve finally come to grips with being single. Mark my words I guess but it finally dawned on me that being comfy in my own skin was a bit more important than having to have someone else’s right next to me to make me feel whole. But my newfound comfort level pretty much got shaken at lunch last week. Over sandwiches and cheesecake of all things. And a tall glass of sweet tea. Crammed in a leather booth with five other work mates.A married coworker said something I JUST HATE TO HEAR.

“You need a man,” she said. I nearly spit out my rich, cakey goodness as I slowly removed the fork from my mouth.

It was abrupt in a pure New York accent. I think maybe she meant well. Who the hell knows. In front of the whole damn table she said this. And I just laughed it off. Everyone at the table was either married or practically married. There was only one other single chick at the table who is younger than me. Her eyes nearly feel out of her head. And because I’m just so damn lovable (yea, right) I just let it go.

I get asked a lot why I’m not married. More than I feel I need to.

“You have so much going for yourself, I would think any man would want to snatch you up!” or “I go to church with such and such guy you should meet.” That last one always gets me going and I try my best to be polite about it. I usually just want to say why are you assuming I take communion? Or what makes you think I’m not an atheist.

And then I get this whole bit like, “Oh with how busy you are, I bet you don’t even have the time.” Why does my singlehood have to be justified like that?

I’m convinced that single is the new relationship. I have said this before but only embraced it seriously today. Mainly because sorting out your life into cardboard boxes at midnight kind of makes you reflect on life for some reason. I’ve made a huge improvement in my attitude toward life and have finally come to a great happy place with the world of just me. Even after that little lunch. But I will admit hearing such remarks sickens me about the same way hearing something bigoted would rile me up.

I don’t feel the need to justify why I’m single. I just am. So why can’t people leave it alone? I’m single. So what?

Awww. Poor single kitty.

Hahaha. Check out the latest cat from the lol generator. She even looks a little like me.