It's the new year, and I am bringing no drama from the last into the new. But there are some things about men that will follow me into subsequent years because I still, at my supposedly wiser age, don't understand.
My boy has offered to hip me to some "knowledge" that I apparently don't know yet. Mkay...I'll take him up on his offer.
Scene::
I met this dude the Monday before Xmas. It was a business situation and I was NOT thinking about any shenanigans, let alone meeting anyone. I was trying to take care of business that day. So, dude, who is head of some department, comes over to offer some assistance. The assistance proves to be helpful, so okay. Somewhere in the interaction, it becomes slightly flirtatious, but not overly so. Friendly flirting, kinda.
My ride has to leave and he assures my driver that I'll get home safely if "...[he] has to drive me home or come get me to take me home..." It was raining torrents that day and I was far from home.
At the end of it all, he continues going the extra mile in this whole deal and gives me his business card. Prior to putting me in my car, he tells me to give him a call to let him know I made it safe. I told him my phone number was also on the form he had, as well. Smiles...at this point, we're both flirting outright.
It takes me 2 hours to get close to home...and I call him. We talk briefly...he asks what's a good time to call me later. I tell him...he calls. We talk that night for almost 4 hours. Nice.
We talk every night after that; every day, too, at least once during daylight hours. Night conversations are much longer than day conversations, but there are at least "...Good morning... have a good day..." day time greetings.
He lives about 50 miles from me. He works 15 minutes from where he lives. Hurdle. Not a big one, but big enough for making meeting up during the week very difficult, since he has live-in kids and so do I. He says he's coming into the area for Xmas, and maybe we could meet up, say hi again, in person. Okay...we'll see.
We talk up until that day...we talk Xmas morning, too. I call him Xmas evening when I leave my mom's house. We talk; he's got to work out logistics for the visit, but he'll call me back. I don't hear from him.
He calls me the next morning on the way to his second job. We don't talk that evening due to the nature of that job. He calls me the next morning. We talk later that evening, too.
The week before he'd brought up wanting to get together on NYE. That's high pressure, high "expectation". I didn't put any real credence into it. So now, we're talking about getting together prior to Friday just to refresh each other on one another.
I tell him that I have Wednesday free..let's do it.
So Wednesday, I don't hear from him until it's a bit late to make plans and execute.
Next morning ...we talk again. He says he's going to call me later that afternoon so we can plan something.
Nothing.
After I get off work and get settled, I give a jingle: no answer. 'k.
NYE morning, I give a jingle just to say... no answer. 'right.
I text him (we had texted but usually talked since his phone has certain texting methods blocked) and say, "I guess we had a "phone breakup". Happy New Year!"
Nothing.
So what's that about? That's the new "how you do it"??
If that's the new math, I refuse.
Happy new year to me.
Saturday, January 01, 2011
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Old-fashioned courting in the 2010?
I had a date last night. Dates? Nothing new. The guy? Not new either. The whole date itself? Interesting as hell.
The background is that I "knew" him through my friend. He was actually my friend's friend's boyfriend when we all met. He/they came to a couple of sets at my house. They're cool, he's cool; all groovy.
Earlier this year, they apparently broke up (for the last time) and it's officially over. I guess another indicator of something being officially over is when one person buys a house and moves out of the joint apartment they shared. She invited me and my friend to the housewarming, and he was there, too. I didn't know at that time that they'd broken up. And they weren't really my friends, so why would I? That is...until he begins to inbox me occasionally.
So, inboxing, texting, a completely out of the blue phone call one night, and threats of "we need to get together..." He asks me to lunch a few months ago and we set it up. At the last minute, I had to cancel, so we reset, tentatively. Time passed, didn't do it...cut to finally getting together.
This weekend was the dinner plan. Then it rained. They say it doesn't rain here, but it's hella raining now, so we decided to stay in. I cooked.
I like to cook when I have people I know are going to eat and enjoy the meal. Lately, I've been more inspired to cook, getting recipes from other people and branching out...like I said, if somebody's gonna eat. My male friends know I cook my ass off: men can always be counted on to eat a home cooked meal.
So I decide on the menu: braised sirloin with mushroom and shallot wine reduction, garlic butter spinach, baked whole baby yams, tomato and blackberry salad and crusted garlic baguette.
Bomb-eats.com. No doubt.
We said 4 p.m. He gets here at 3:30 p.m. I have an issue with time. If I say 4, count on 4...maybe a few minutes after. I'm trying hard to be very punctual, to get punctual...but early? not so much. I'd gone to the store for some additional fixings, got home, music on, getting ready and *ding dong*
I let him in, get him settled, kinda, 'cause I was unsettled...went to get myself presentable.
We sit, we wine, we hummus and pita, and light conversation. I cook and we sip - I like a man who buys NICE wine; 2 bottles. And because he's Haitian, he brought some Haitian Rhum.
The plate was so pretty, I should have taken a picture of it. Just beauti-gorge.
We ate. He ate everything. And he should have.
After dinner, more wine. Movie. Then egg nog and rhum. and movie. And we just chilled on the couch, talking, chilling. No contact sports. Not even a hug. Oh he hugged me, tightly, when he first got here; kisses on the cheeks; hug again. But while we were maxin' on the sofa, after wine and rhum, NO action.
The thing is, normally, that would be a code 10, man down situation. But....I saw the *thing* that was telling me to let it play. And he's an older cat, ugh!, so a bit more paced with all the goings on. His ex just turned 32, so I'm going to let the age thing slide for a sec and see how it plays.
We chill, it rains, I lean my head on his arm, we movie it up, he says something about an event in the movie where the person gets lusty, "Need more willpower," and looks at me.
Mkay...gotcha. But I'm horny and tipsy. I couldn't fuck him on a first date though. Well, I could have, but I couldn't.
It's late, it's raining, we've had massive amounts of alcohol, he lives in the valley, so he says he'll spend the night. And he does...in my currently unoccupied other bedroom. No contact sports. But I knew that when he said he would "stay over and go to sleep" in his French accent. Ha.
I was so amped up, I put on some soft core porn on cable and rubbed out a good.one. Good. I will say that it was refreshing that he didn't come to my door 'cause I came hella loud...and I didn't mean to, but pressure is a muthafucka.
So he left this morning after it got light and the rain lessened. Again, BIG hugs, cheek kisses, grabby hug, another kiss on the cheek and leave.
He texted me when he got home...with a remark that "...once a year isn't enough..." because the last time he was at my home was just shy of a year when they came to the party here. I told him he could say the word when he wants to do it again. He said he would because he likes me.
Is this how a person is courted? I wouldn't know 'cause I'm not old-fashioned.
The background is that I "knew" him through my friend. He was actually my friend's friend's boyfriend when we all met. He/they came to a couple of sets at my house. They're cool, he's cool; all groovy.
Earlier this year, they apparently broke up (for the last time) and it's officially over. I guess another indicator of something being officially over is when one person buys a house and moves out of the joint apartment they shared. She invited me and my friend to the housewarming, and he was there, too. I didn't know at that time that they'd broken up. And they weren't really my friends, so why would I? That is...until he begins to inbox me occasionally.
So, inboxing, texting, a completely out of the blue phone call one night, and threats of "we need to get together..." He asks me to lunch a few months ago and we set it up. At the last minute, I had to cancel, so we reset, tentatively. Time passed, didn't do it...cut to finally getting together.
This weekend was the dinner plan. Then it rained. They say it doesn't rain here, but it's hella raining now, so we decided to stay in. I cooked.
I like to cook when I have people I know are going to eat and enjoy the meal. Lately, I've been more inspired to cook, getting recipes from other people and branching out...like I said, if somebody's gonna eat. My male friends know I cook my ass off: men can always be counted on to eat a home cooked meal.
So I decide on the menu: braised sirloin with mushroom and shallot wine reduction, garlic butter spinach, baked whole baby yams, tomato and blackberry salad and crusted garlic baguette.
Bomb-eats.com. No doubt.
We said 4 p.m. He gets here at 3:30 p.m. I have an issue with time. If I say 4, count on 4...maybe a few minutes after. I'm trying hard to be very punctual, to get punctual...but early? not so much. I'd gone to the store for some additional fixings, got home, music on, getting ready and *ding dong*
I let him in, get him settled, kinda, 'cause I was unsettled...went to get myself presentable.
We sit, we wine, we hummus and pita, and light conversation. I cook and we sip - I like a man who buys NICE wine; 2 bottles. And because he's Haitian, he brought some Haitian Rhum.
The plate was so pretty, I should have taken a picture of it. Just beauti-gorge.
We ate. He ate everything. And he should have.
After dinner, more wine. Movie. Then egg nog and rhum. and movie. And we just chilled on the couch, talking, chilling. No contact sports. Not even a hug. Oh he hugged me, tightly, when he first got here; kisses on the cheeks; hug again. But while we were maxin' on the sofa, after wine and rhum, NO action.
The thing is, normally, that would be a code 10, man down situation. But....I saw the *thing* that was telling me to let it play. And he's an older cat, ugh!, so a bit more paced with all the goings on. His ex just turned 32, so I'm going to let the age thing slide for a sec and see how it plays.
We chill, it rains, I lean my head on his arm, we movie it up, he says something about an event in the movie where the person gets lusty, "Need more willpower," and looks at me.
Mkay...gotcha. But I'm horny and tipsy. I couldn't fuck him on a first date though. Well, I could have, but I couldn't.
It's late, it's raining, we've had massive amounts of alcohol, he lives in the valley, so he says he'll spend the night. And he does...in my currently unoccupied other bedroom. No contact sports. But I knew that when he said he would "stay over and go to sleep" in his French accent. Ha.
I was so amped up, I put on some soft core porn on cable and rubbed out a good.one. Good. I will say that it was refreshing that he didn't come to my door 'cause I came hella loud...and I didn't mean to, but pressure is a muthafucka.
So he left this morning after it got light and the rain lessened. Again, BIG hugs, cheek kisses, grabby hug, another kiss on the cheek and leave.
He texted me when he got home...with a remark that "...once a year isn't enough..." because the last time he was at my home was just shy of a year when they came to the party here. I told him he could say the word when he wants to do it again. He said he would because he likes me.
Is this how a person is courted? I wouldn't know 'cause I'm not old-fashioned.
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
Solo
I went to the funeral home to do my sister's makeup today. She wasn't a woman who wore a lot of makeup, but...when you're dead, sometimes you need a little color. Yeah, I know...that was morbid, but I've been like that dealing with this.
My sisters picked out a blue and black blouse for her, so I coordinated her eye makeup with a blended out dark blue with a natural, neutral, slight brown and a natural highlight. I put a light yellowy pink on her cheeks just enough to make her look "alive", but you couldn't really tell it was there. It just looked like she would if her face still had vascular activity. I put a reddish-brown gloss on her lips, and it settled in nicely, considering...
My niece brought a half wig from the Bay from a place that they always bought my sister's hair. My niece was wanting me to fix my sister's hair like she would do it, but I blends wigs and weaves and leave no demarcation...my sister, well, she didn't have a good blend hand. So, since I was doing this, I took my marcel irons and curled her hair to cascade around her face and blend with the wig.
I think she looked beautiful and alive, like she was napping, when we left.
I feel weird about the whole thing. Picked up a blouse today so we can all be color coordinated for the service.
I feel like I don't have my bookend mate: she was the oldest, and I am the youngest (of my father's children). Bookends. Odd-ends: she had her issues regarding the family, and I had mine. She was my BigSister and I was BabySis, *[XX]* (always said with emphasis).
What does one do with one bookend? One odd-end?
My sisters picked out a blue and black blouse for her, so I coordinated her eye makeup with a blended out dark blue with a natural, neutral, slight brown and a natural highlight. I put a light yellowy pink on her cheeks just enough to make her look "alive", but you couldn't really tell it was there. It just looked like she would if her face still had vascular activity. I put a reddish-brown gloss on her lips, and it settled in nicely, considering...
My niece brought a half wig from the Bay from a place that they always bought my sister's hair. My niece was wanting me to fix my sister's hair like she would do it, but I blends wigs and weaves and leave no demarcation...my sister, well, she didn't have a good blend hand. So, since I was doing this, I took my marcel irons and curled her hair to cascade around her face and blend with the wig.
I think she looked beautiful and alive, like she was napping, when we left.
I feel weird about the whole thing. Picked up a blouse today so we can all be color coordinated for the service.
I feel like I don't have my bookend mate: she was the oldest, and I am the youngest (of my father's children). Bookends. Odd-ends: she had her issues regarding the family, and I had mine. She was my BigSister and I was BabySis, *[XX]* (always said with emphasis).
What does one do with one bookend? One odd-end?
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Get on it...
So... everyone needs a routine. They are predictable for the follower, give the adherent something to work with should they get off track and set a precedent for future action.
The same parameters apply with relationships. And not just "relationship" relationships, but all relationships and interpersonal relations.
There have even been songs made about some folks' programs. Back in the 80's, the late Gwen Guthrie made a song about her program, "Nothin' Going On but the Rent".
I'm putting everyone I deal with in an intimate manner on my program. If you don't know how to "handle" me, I can't deal with you. They'll be given notice and after that, if you can't adhere, then buh-bye.
The same parameters apply with relationships. And not just "relationship" relationships, but all relationships and interpersonal relations.
There have even been songs made about some folks' programs. Back in the 80's, the late Gwen Guthrie made a song about her program, "Nothin' Going On but the Rent".
I'm putting everyone I deal with in an intimate manner on my program. If you don't know how to "handle" me, I can't deal with you. They'll be given notice and after that, if you can't adhere, then buh-bye.
Friday, October 01, 2010
The Competition
Funny is...the urge that we all have to compare ourselves with others, especially as it relates to relationships and break ups. We wonder what was it the other person had, has, does, is, can/will/has done to lure or catch our exes.
Usually, the answer is simple and clear. Not a gatdamn thing.
I had an occasion to view my "competition" last night. She's the chick that my ex got with after we broke up. She's actually also a former "sorta friend" from currently and a friend from back in high school days. When exactly she took up with him, in terms of communication and whatnot, is unclear. What is clear is that they took things a lot further than rebound 4 months after we broke up, when they got married. Married.
They don't live together (still, yet), but they got married. Okay.
That shit hurt then. It was also very incredible. Now...it's still incredible, but only that.
But...since I have common friends with them/her, I'd been hearing things about her. Her appearance specifically.
Now I will say that she was not ugly back then, but she was not cute. After high school, with some exposure to life and such, she matured and became a bit more attractive. That era is apparently over. WAY over.
My competition...isn't.
I'm a chunky chic. Chunky, but shapely. I want to lose a few pounds, tone up, but I've got a shape if I never do that. It's not all about the aesthetic...but sometimes it IS. In this case, it is! Especially when mutual friends are describing her in less than flattering terms; not just women but men. I could think that they were doing that only for my benefit...and I tend to give folks the benefit of the doubt because every one's taste isn't the same.
Um...there is no benefit to be given. I really wish that overweight chicks would stop using the term "curvy". Yes, I'm overweight, yes I'm shapely...I'm truly curvy. That broad is LUMPY and not to mention FRUMPY.
I asked my boy to pull up her Facebook page yesterday because I had to see for myself. WoW! She's gained weight since the last time I saw her -less than a year ago- and she carries it very poorly. She dresses it even worse.
When I saw her, she was in sweats and a jacket. It was late fall/early winter...me giving the bennies of doubt, right.
Yeah, well, not anymore. I saw the pics last night and thought, "Ewwww, for real? You go from me to her? Yeah, playa, you need to keep that."
She has Monique's (old, bigger Monique) old chin and gut tucked up under hers and had on some body's Grandma's old sweater on over it. And these weren't candid, not expecting the picture shots, but she was apparently dressed to be 'out'.
Yeah, no...aesthetics are not everything, but looking put together doesn't hurt. And for her to call herself curvy?? More like blocky as a cinder block wall.
I can't say why, but it gave me even more peace to know that he didn't upgrade but rather downgraded. My girl friend, who was a very close friend of his, told me long ago that he wasn't able to handle my 'glow'. She didn't say that to gas me up, but she was evaluating what she knew of him. It jibed completely with what I'd come to know about him. From what I'm seeing he went to...yeah, he chose a pile of wax rather than the illuminated, long burning, fragrant, elegant tapered candle that he had in me. And that's completely fine because I have need for someone whose spirit is lit by LED and isn't threatened by a bit of extra light in the room.
Usually, the answer is simple and clear. Not a gatdamn thing.
I had an occasion to view my "competition" last night. She's the chick that my ex got with after we broke up. She's actually also a former "sorta friend" from currently and a friend from back in high school days. When exactly she took up with him, in terms of communication and whatnot, is unclear. What is clear is that they took things a lot further than rebound 4 months after we broke up, when they got married. Married.
They don't live together (still, yet), but they got married. Okay.
That shit hurt then. It was also very incredible. Now...it's still incredible, but only that.
But...since I have common friends with them/her, I'd been hearing things about her. Her appearance specifically.
Now I will say that she was not ugly back then, but she was not cute. After high school, with some exposure to life and such, she matured and became a bit more attractive. That era is apparently over. WAY over.
My competition...isn't.
I'm a chunky chic. Chunky, but shapely. I want to lose a few pounds, tone up, but I've got a shape if I never do that. It's not all about the aesthetic...but sometimes it IS. In this case, it is! Especially when mutual friends are describing her in less than flattering terms; not just women but men. I could think that they were doing that only for my benefit...and I tend to give folks the benefit of the doubt because every one's taste isn't the same.
Um...there is no benefit to be given. I really wish that overweight chicks would stop using the term "curvy". Yes, I'm overweight, yes I'm shapely...I'm truly curvy. That broad is LUMPY and not to mention FRUMPY.
I asked my boy to pull up her Facebook page yesterday because I had to see for myself. WoW! She's gained weight since the last time I saw her -less than a year ago- and she carries it very poorly. She dresses it even worse.
When I saw her, she was in sweats and a jacket. It was late fall/early winter...me giving the bennies of doubt, right.
Yeah, well, not anymore. I saw the pics last night and thought, "Ewwww, for real? You go from me to her? Yeah, playa, you need to keep that."
She has Monique's (old, bigger Monique) old chin and gut tucked up under hers and had on some body's Grandma's old sweater on over it. And these weren't candid, not expecting the picture shots, but she was apparently dressed to be 'out'.
Yeah, no...aesthetics are not everything, but looking put together doesn't hurt. And for her to call herself curvy?? More like blocky as a cinder block wall.
I can't say why, but it gave me even more peace to know that he didn't upgrade but rather downgraded. My girl friend, who was a very close friend of his, told me long ago that he wasn't able to handle my 'glow'. She didn't say that to gas me up, but she was evaluating what she knew of him. It jibed completely with what I'd come to know about him. From what I'm seeing he went to...yeah, he chose a pile of wax rather than the illuminated, long burning, fragrant, elegant tapered candle that he had in me. And that's completely fine because I have need for someone whose spirit is lit by LED and isn't threatened by a bit of extra light in the room.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
You down with OPB?? Yeah you know me!!
I have been busy doing everything and nothing. I don't know if this is even read by anyone or has been read lately...
but I have been busy reading Other Peoples Blogs, OPB. It even has its own tune, sung to the familiar tune of Naughty by Nature's song OPP, 'cause...yeah.
I think I'll go back to blogging. I might even get bold and post it so that other folks can see it.
There's a LOT to write about...much more to be learned from fleshing it all out.
but I have been busy reading Other Peoples Blogs, OPB. It even has its own tune, sung to the familiar tune of Naughty by Nature's song OPP, 'cause...yeah.
I think I'll go back to blogging. I might even get bold and post it so that other folks can see it.
There's a LOT to write about...much more to be learned from fleshing it all out.
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
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