TRIALS, ERRORS, AND TRIBULATIONS

I’m Making A List by Shel Silverstein

I’m making a list of the things I must say for politeness,

And goodness and kindness and gentleness, sweetness and rightness:

Hello

Pardon me

How are you

Excuse me

Bless you

May I?

Thank you

Goodbye

If you know some that I forgot,

Please stick them into your eye!

I loooove lists. If I’m not doing anything and I want to fake like I’m organizing my life, I will structure a list in a heartbeat like a list of things I need to do this weekend, a grocery list, a list of people I need to remember to email, a budget list…it goes on.   And I’m clearly not the only one with an affinity for “structure”, as of late, at least on twitter, everyone has been talking about their bucket list. Oh yes, the “inexhaustible” bucket list….

You know we all have one…either on paper, on some sticky notes, or in our minds.  We all have a running tally of the things we want to do before we leave this thing called earth.  And although the ideal seems semi silly to me, (I say semi because the chances we will plow through this “wish list” is slim to none) I have an informal list as well.  I mean, most people like to make lists because it makes them feel good about their faux goals, as opposed to deciding to experience something and just well…..doing it. Novel idea eh?  But this isn’t to knock your lists, really it isn’t, I have "travel to Australia and Seychelles" on mine too…you…my …friend…are…not…alone.  But unlike some of you, I don’t put that much weight into my bucket list and will probably travel to Seychelles tonight in my dreams. Hey man, whatever works right?

To me bigger than a bucket list, are real live experiences in the current moment.  Deciding to do something and just doing it. Now, those who know me know I’m not the biggest “try something new” person. I will do new things, however I’m a creature of habit. I blame my allergies.  No really, that’s a valid blame. When you grow up allergic to EVERYTHING (amongst other ailments) you tend to be a “vanilla ice cream” safe player if you know what I mean LOL.  Simple is better was my motto as a kid…hell as an adult…we won’t discuss that time I ate a kumquat in college and the allergy breakdown/fallout from that…smh…

But I digress, back to my original focus, not that I really remember…oh yeah, bucket list…well, not really.  The point is, Fuuuuuug the bucket list…its waaaack…its sooooo yesterday….like…soooo soooo….done.  This list I’m creating now is the “Things I’ve tried, but will never try again" list.

Whaaaaa? You say. Well, current lists are the new black. Trust me on this; however who cares if you tried something and loved it. Rock on rock star!  It’s really about what you tried that was just bad news bears.  That, my friends, is the story...the real meat of experiences LOLOL.  Yeah, I’m totally working with two glasses today…one half empty and the other have full (of Ruuuuuuuuuuum *hi- fives*)

Okay so, The “Things I’ve tried and will NEVER try again” list:

1)      Pork Belly Sliders:   Yo, I went to this restaurant last weekend, and there on the menu were pork belly sliders.  Now, I love pork. I’ve had pork sliders, I’ve had a pork chop, and I’ve even had pig feet and things of that discarded nature.  And despite all of that, I will admit the term “belly” threw me for an “eeeeh I’m not so sure” loop <<<I should have embraced that.  But instead my craving for a pork chop sandwich drove me down this slider lane.  Folks listen, this slider, was all smoke and mirrors…like half pork chop substance, half fat (I’ll assume that was the…belly *gag * part). And the damage it did to The Notorious T.U.M.M.Y. (my nickname for my eff’d up digestive system)….ri-damn-diculous. I will NEVER try one again.  A pork chop sandwich it was not. Trust me. *turns my nose up as snooty as a pork chop sandwich eater can* hmmph.

2)      Gin:  This is obvious and doesn’t need much of explanation, but let’s just say this, my disdain for gin goes deep…like 1995 deep.  I didn’t just try it...I tried it,  it tried me, it had its way, and I’m done…..FOREVER. End of story.

3)      Chinese Food and Hard liquor:  Okay let’s agree on one thing. Chinese food, like Americanized Chinese food that is, is made of air and fortune cookie wishes.  Yes?   No really, why doesn’t it stick? I mean there’s rice (starch) chicken or beef or shrimp (meat) soy sauce (I don’t know what that is aside from sodium but in my heart it binds the two) So why in like an hour or so, you’re hungry as all hells (yes plural, THAT’S how hungry you are)  Now with that said, combine that with some serious hard liquor and you have an ugly, ugly, ugly situation on your hand, trust me I know and kind of remember heard .

4)      Take the Amtrak train anywhere outside of the Northeast Region:  Okay people, I know “Love Jones” made taking the train from Chicago to New York look sexy and appealing but 1) that’s like 27 hours long and 2) more expensive than a plane ticket. I’m just sayin.  I’ve done it, not from Chicago to New York but from New York to Cleveland and it’s like riding the Greyhound. NO LIE.   As a matter of fact the Greyhound would have been faster (womp womp).  I think the big sell is you can walk around, get wine and use the bathroom.  Let me tell you however, when that train is moving, what you can’t do...can...not... do….is use THAT bathroom in motion…and I leave it that.

5)      (While we’re on mode of transportation) Take the Greyhound to Philly: Why to Philly? Why was this even something I tried? Or wanted to try? LOL it was more of a default experience.  I was going to Philly, Greyhound had a special, and I took it. Instant experience (gone wrong) I mean I’ve taken the Greyhound many, many times (Hey I grew up in a cheap divorced family) but this was different, it was beyond awwwwful! The ticket was $5 one way. Deal of a lifetime right? WRONG! Even a homeless person can muscle up 5 bucks.  And that my friends sum up my trip. THEE longest 2 hours of my life!

6)      A hip hop dance class:  I mean listen, what girl or guy that grew up in the 80’s/90’s didn’t want to be a pop-n-locker or think they had a little b-girl/b-boy living inside of them?  Of couuuuurse you did. And you totes believed with a little coaching the Turbo in you would come out body rockin’ the night away. Well I’m here to tell you, that-would-be-a-negative.  It’s quite amazing how little coordination one has, and nothing…NO THING calls embarrassing attention to this disorder like an organized dance class.  I took it; I was ready with my swish-swish pants….and I’m trying to tell you,  I don’t think I even got off of 1 in the 1 and 2.  Listen…I’m not a dancer…I’m a lover. (don’t question it, it works in my head)

Siggghhh I have more things to list, maybe I’ll add to them later…it can go on for a while.  Don’t you side eye me.  Yeah sure, I’m certain there’s a fake non-pork eater (because I like to believe that I live in a world where everyone sees pork for the deliciousness that it is) judging me in this post. But the point is, it’s not the pork that I ate, the hangover I had, the homeless people that I shielded from that this post is about…it’s about trying things…eeeeeven if it’s to never try again.

Get on my level.

"Experience is the best teacher, but the tuition is high." Anonymous

 

THE BRONX BOMBER (based on a true story)…

"I've been dating since I was fifteen! I'm exhausted! Where is he?" Charlotte from Sex and the City

I was hanging out with some friends last night and we were talking relationships, more specifically dating and actively dating in New York City.  Now I have my theories on why dating completely SUCKS in this city. And in my 11 years of being here…give or take a year or two, MY theories for ME have proven true.   I won’t go into the specificities of my theories, because I don’t want us to get lost in technicalities, we’ll save that for a different post.  The point is, I’ve been here for a while and I’ve had only a handful of dates. I could take it personal, and sometimes I have, but in the end, it really has nothing to do with me and everything to do with New York.  (Don’t even argue this point with me, I won’t even listen to you lol).  So, I have taken to simply say, rather than explaining my stance and conspiracy theories, that my personality doesn’t necessarily translate well in this city.  Eh? Less offensive right? *side-eye*

Now to be fair, it was really one bad date when I first moved here that made me pull back and almost stop dating altogether in this city.  Partially because 1) this date was soooo bad that I started to question my judgment, but 2) it left a bad taste in my mouth and I needed to reevaluate all things dating related. 

So in the midst of talking about love, life, dating woes, and overall tossing daggers at the place we call home (y’all know I have a love/ hate relationship with this city), I promised them I would blog about this date with what my close friends and I have tagged “the Bronx bomber”.

Up front disclaimer: To be fair TO ME I met this guy at a friend’s birthday party and I thought he knew her.  Little did I know, that was not the case….AT ALL. Hey man, it happens sometimes, what’s a girl to do? *Nika shrug*

I met this guy and we talked on the phone a few times. He was cool and all, slightly aggressive in his vocal cadence ala DMX (sans the barking ‘cause chile…no) but you know typical New York type aggression, kind of like they’re fighting the words and thoughts as they come out of their mouth.  It’s a weird thing but y’all know what I’m talking about.  LOL it’s more prevalent in the Bronx, where this dude was from.   The South Bronx to be exact, a fact that meant nothing to me then, but it meant EVERYTHING to me after. Hang on, you’ll see. 

So in the course of our conversation, we decided I would meet him in the city for dinner.  I lived in Jersey at the time and in general I had a rule, that until I was comfortable with the person, I would not allow them to pick me up from my house or know where I live. A little safety measure I put in place after the  robber dude. Listen don’t judge me, it’s hard out there for a single woman…you can’t judge them right all the time…or even half the time if you’re me. I mean shit happens, yo.  So, we met in the city and he pulled up and the first thing that stood out to me was that he was driving a minivan.  Not to poo-poo on you minivan drivers, but I was 24 and he was the same age, so what man is driving a minivan at that age unless it’s 1) his mother’s or 2) has a gang of kids (and no it wasn’t tricked out, it was minivan-ed proper!)  So I made a comment. (Who didn’t see that coming?) Heeeeeey, it was a harmless comment, something like “Minivan eh?”  His response and please believe this is a direct quote “What?! I told you have kids!!!!”  Ummm, sir? Actually, no he didn’t *a strong side eye* but I continued on.  As we started he asked if I minded going with him to his boy’s fight party.  Apparently he promised he’s swing by and that afterward we could continue to dinner.  Of course I’m like sure, I mean I liked to watch fights so why not.  And off we were, up the Westside highway.

But to my dismay he was headed to the Bronx, now I don’t know why I was surprised I mean did I expect lil’ DMX to live in Chelsea?  Okay that’s not fair; he could have (not).  So I was hella nervous, I was not familiar with the Bronx and quite honestly no one had ever said anything flattering about that area.  And it wasn’t just the Bronx, it was the SOUTH BRONX, like the pj’s next to the stadium, South Bronx, South Bronx.  Now, y'all know I’m not familiar with that project life. I’m going to keep it cute but wading through trash filled, piss soaked elevators wasn’t really my cup o’tea (and still is not).  And that’s no shade to anyone who’s life that duplicates.  Really.  Lol.

Listen this date went bad and bad fast! I had on this lace see-through shirt with this black demi bra underneath. It was hot and would have been hella sexy across the table at dinner. However, he failed to mention his friend was a girl and yeah well…need I say the rest?  But she wasn’t a problem as much as he was, once he saw my shirt, much to my surprise; he gripped me under my arm and threatened me not to talk to ANY one in the apartment. It was quite menacing.

** Now, at this point I was like you should leave, but on the way up there I didn’t see a subway station AND I didn’t see any cabs. (obvs I had no clue about gypsy cabs) **

Right, so I was stuck and damn near hyperventilating.  You know how it goes, what can go wrong WILL go wrong:

·         First issue: Dude disappeared. What do I mean disappear?  I mean like gone, ghost, vamoose, like olly olly oxen free? Yea, disappeared.

·         Next:  all of the girls, and I mean every last one of them stared at me like I wanted their man. Now to be fair, my demi bra may have given that impression but shit…who knew? Actually I remember a girl sucking her teeth and saying “no, she didn’t “and another saying “yes, that bitch did” << sigggghhhhh….

·         The dude showed up briefly to ask me if I wanted something to eat.  Eat what you ask? Ya, there was a menu tapped to the cabinet selling plates. Umm hmm, you heard me SELLING PLATES!

·         But because I couldn’t see the menu with my tricky eye sight, I looked at the guy’s plate sitting next to me (yes I was going to get a plate because a “bitch” was hungry (Hey, when In Rome…)). That wondering eye was met with a swift “What the fuck are you looking at” <<<direct quote. *more hyperventilating*

·         Dude disappeared again.

·         Dude showed back up….SMASHED! Like higher than I’d ever seen anybody in my life….Drunk as a skunk. Chewed…Fried…and any other descriptive I could come up with. HE WAS THAT, AND THAT WAS HE!

You think that was enough? No, we got in the car, and dude turned to me and said “look, I can’t take you home, but you can stay at my mama’s house, she won’t mind”! HAHAHAHAHA you know you have to laugh right there. Like word? Your mama? She won’t mind? Ummm dude I MIND! And so this led to a sting of accusations and him driving and swerving me back to 34^th street.  Listen….this dude…that date…was everything I was afraid of getting. Yes, worst than the robber.

Did I see him again? Hell no? Did I fear my life? Absolutely!  Was there anything to gain? Nope.   Only my extremely long dating hiatus, fear of blind dates, and alas my fear of the Bronx.

Listen folks, come to your own conclusion here there are many, many, many, many morals hidden in this gem of the story, so take what you can and apply it.  For me, my lesson was simple; the Bronx is and will forever be off limits.  And for NYC weeeeeeell, let’s just see how long I last here ;-)

THROW BACK THURSDAY: WHEN CRAZY COMES UNTUCKED PART II

“Part of being sane is being a little bit crazy” Janet Long

Have you ever felt like you were going crazy? I mean like that “you need a V8” crazy?  Y’all remember that commercial, the one where everyone is walking sideways until they get a V8 and they straighten up?  Like that’s not crazy crazy…it’s just an “ummm something’s slightly off” type of crazy.  Perhaps you cry in the morning, laugh by noon, on the ledge by 3, and having the best time of your life by 8. You feel me? Like THAT type of crazy…where things are just array…you know just a wee bit off.  Yeah. So that’s how I’ve been feeling these days. Uh huh, your girl is looking uber-unstable. But what are you to do? I like to say it’s what gives me my mystique…you know a certain je ne sais quoi….heavy emphasis on the quoi hahaha.  Hey man, don’t hate on my specialness!

But these days my emotions have been on a grand EMO roller coaster.  I don’t know if it has anything to do with me getting older and my hormones are out of wack? But I gather not.  Secretly, or not so secretly I have always been an emotional person.  I take most things personal.  And I will cry about it in a heartbeat.  But there are some plus sides to being hella, stupid dumb EMO….yes, being overly emotional has benefits LOL… You always know where I stand, because I will always tell you.  And usually because I’m so quick to release, I’m usually able to release and move on.  But the downside still remains, I’m emotional, and can often look hella hella crazy from it.  Once I get in my emotions. Good God and Good luck! Like really….God speed. 

Now, when I get like this it can be a special time that can create many, many stories , because I don’t operate like this ALLLLL the time.   Okay lies, the tears, well, they’re here to stay. That will never change. The “off balance part” well, that comes and goes as the spirit calls on it. Hahahaha.  Now, when I get like this, you know all in my emotions…it can affect my sleep like nobody’s business.  I can start tossing and turning, weird dreams, not sleep,  the list goes on.  And actually, the other night I had the craaaaaaziest dream. Like one of those that when you wake up, for like 15 minutes you think it happened?  Ya, that’s how crazy of a dream I had. There were people…conversation…they were kind of in the apartment with me, but not really.  A true mind fuck.   But as I was trying to piece together the pieces, (you know how you do after a dream was extra, you’ll spend the next 5 minutes trying to put it all together-totes impossible, it never makes as much sense as you did while you’re sleep, when you’re awake) it made me remember this time when I was living in Tennessee, when I went….ummmm how can I say this…temporarily crazy? Ok like not committable...I mean no one came out sooooo *looks around*…..hahahahaha

Now bear with me because I swore I wasn’t going to tell this story…I mean at least not on a bloooooog…hahaha, but this one is a classic.

**First a little back story, I used to live and work in Tennessee, one of my many states, in a small town called Johnson City. Now, where I actually resided was in an even SMALLER town called Grey, Tn.  Yeah, it was like a little country township.**

Anywho, one night I was sleep and in the middle of my sleep I heard a man under my bed (no that isn’t a typo). The man was like “yeeeeaaaaah” deep…like Barry White deep.  I jumped up out of my bed , down the stairs, and out the front door.  Yes, you read that right. I jumped out of the bed, ran down the stairs and right out the front door.  I mean, shit, there was a man UNDER my bed, understand? No time to play…get your isht and run. I told y’all a while back I have cat like reflexes. I’ll never wait around to get slaughtered, you hear me?

So back to the story, I’m on the porch. And I’m like WHAT THEE HELL is he doing under my bed? Like was he waiting to rape me? And like” yeah”? Word? What does that even mean?  So again, I’m on the porch, like what to do? I can go to my neighbors, but they don’t like black people so I don’t think that’s an option.  (Okay, I’m not sure they didn’t like black people, but they all had confederate flags waving so either they were trying to signal the lost soldiers oooorrrrrr….yeah…see?) So going to my neighbors wasn’t an option.  I had just gotten in from out of town, so my bag was downstairs, so I ran in quickly grabbed a robe and my cordless and back to the porch.  And I’m pacing,  I’m like I should call the police. But what will I say? There’s a man….under…..my….bed? Right, back to that…I was still confused how he got under there.  When I ran out the door, I unlocked and unhooked the chain? Sooooo did he just materialize there? 

Now I was out there for a while, maybe 15 minutes trying to make a decision. In the meantime,  I ran back in, grabbed a butcher knife and back to the porch. Because hey, I….need…a…weapon…right?  Now several minutes had passed, and I decided (you know with the flags blowing in the wind) I was probably safer inside than outside so I decided to go back in and look under said bed.  And low and behold…need I say it? Yeah… no man.  Kind of anti-climatic huh? LOL but here’s the kicker….I realized that the man I heard…you know “yeeeaaaaaaah”…the skinny Barry?  Was me! I was snoring and talking in my sleep so loud and deep that it startled me out of my sleep hahahahahahahaha!

I know you’re wondering where I’m going with this story like a conclusion right?  And the answer is….nowhere.

In the words of my dear friend, “sometimes there are no conclusions”.  THE END.

Happy Throwback Thursday…..

BONUS POST: THE SORROWS OF SAPPY SENTIMENTALISM

Words have meaning and names have power.  ~Author Unknown

Sigh…I hate to go here, but you know sometimes you have to broach uncomfortable topics.  And well…I’ll nominate myself.  I just want to talk to you…woman to woman…woman to man….hell, friend to friend.  Perhaps converse a bit about terms of endearments shall we? Let's see....how can I say this delicately….some of yoooooou….quite possibly… take this....umm.... shit too far….TOO far. 

Yes, you the one that calls your boo-ski…”Boo Boo Bear”…. “Smooches”…. “Snuckums”….hmmph, the other day I was on the train and I heard someone call her dude “Snuffleupagus”. I promise I AM not making that up! Yes, he was a big guy and perhaps cuddly. And really it wasn’t the name that made my skin crawl; it was HOW she said it….it made me feel ….feel…dirty. Like it was something she might purr or yell out in the throes of passion.  For a second it felt like I had invaded her bedroom, and yet all the while I’m sitting on the #3 train. 

Now no matter how much that irked me, Nothing, NO THING…makes my skin crawl like hearing a woman call her man…..wait for it…..Daddy.  ARGH! I mean listen,  I’ve dropped many of  “babes” “ huns” or “sweeties” in my day and a handful of those are passable...we don’t have to even be in a relationship of sorts for me to use them.  Well, except for babe.  Babe can be tricky….I don’t use it THAT lightly and I love a good babe, trust.  (Something so sweet yet non-committal about it that just grabs my heart…kind of like a harmless word LOL) But this isn't about me, this is about YOU.  Yes, you. Soooooo, do you actually like some of those names? You know, let the record show, not all terms are created equal, and let’s be honest  terms like Poppa and Daddy….uhhh yeah no…I cannot. Those…terms…are deplorable…forbidden...dreadful...cast out...!!!!!! <<<Get the point?

Let’s just speak frankly. What is even sexy about calling a man….Daddy? Is there a turn-on there? It’s just way creepy…way way waaaaay creepy. Actually *gags*…it makes my stomach turn to even think about a woman calling their man “daddy”…even typing it makes me a tad faint….woozy if you will.

Why, you ask? The. shit. is. incestuous.  Period.  I don’t need to go into details and if I do….*side eye to you* Because really, there’s no reason why the thought of daddy should ever make it into my bedroom or loving relationship. *gags*

Now, before you think I’m throwing shade, Pah, pa-lease, I’m a lovey dovey person too, okaaaay.  Well, perhaps not lovey dovey per se, but I can be…..in my heart….you know, sometimes.  Okay so, maybe I’m not totally like a cuddly lovey, kissy person (on the outside) but on the inside I totally am!  And I believe someone said it’s the inside the counts? Yes? Yes.

But check it; I love a good nickname too.  NOT necessarily terms of endearments (sans my beloved Babe) but a good nickname will always tickle my fancy.  Perhaps it’s because I have so many of them but nicknames for me show a certain type of closeness.  It’s like a kinship in the fact that you’re comfortable in calling me something against the norm and/or a little deeper than the government name.  Now I’m an unusual case.  I have had nicknames my entire life, so many different variations and forms it’s unbelievable. From Nene, to Yana, to Ya Ya, to Aye, to Nika and the list goes on.  I love them all.  Some my family gave me, some others gave me and they're great! Love 'em!  And in all actuality, I suppose that’s what terms of endearments are, names that show the closeness you have with your loved one.  And that I can get, I really can. 

Yo, I’m not asking you to totally give it up.  I get it, everyone wants to feel loved and those words help you feel that warm some thing with your loved one.  I guess in the end what I’m saying is, I can really (sort of kind of) live with the sweeties, honeys, sunshines of the world. However…let’s be clear… the Big Boys, Punisher’s, Lover boys, Stud muffins, Mama’s big torturers, and Big Daddies can die a slow…….slooooooooooooooow….death.  Did I say die?

I mean because really is your endearment based on THOSE terms…if so then………

CAKE, CAKE, CAKE, CAKE…..

“A gift consists not in what is done or given, but in the intention of the giver or doer.” Seneca

Listen I posted a list of the things I wanted for Christmas, and not only did just a handful of you read it, you didn’t even comply.  Like who does that???? Some of you need to ask yourselves, what…would…Jesus….do?  Its borderline disrespectful ON Jesus’s birthday to NOT give…unto others.  But I’m not even going to go there.  It happened; I will forgive because,  Hey….that’s what Jesus WOULD do.  However, I learned my lessons…fool me once, shame on you…fool me twice…well……hmmph.  So yes it’s March, but it’s the beginning of spring, and you know that means….it’s like my birthday is ALMOST here.  Ya, ya, ya, I know….not until August. But CLEARLY you people…yes YOU PEOPLE need more notice for proper gifts so *ahem* allow me to introduce you to my list of things I would like for like my birthday or Easter (why not start a new tradition of Easter giving? Eh? He died and rose, that prob deserves a bit of celebration right?)

Govern yourselves accordingly:

A surprise party: Yeah I said it, and yes I know if I ask for it, it’s not really a surprise anymore.  Try.  Ain’t nothing wrong with trying a little bit. K?  I have alwaaaaaays wanted a surprise birthday party.  Do you realize how much effort goes into surprising someone for their birthday?  A lot.  And if you plan it, it will show you care about me…….A LOT!  If you don’t, well the opposite applies.  Yes, guilt trips are not beneath me…period.  You should start working on it now….not to organize YOU in planning FOR me but…..well you get the point. Hahahaha

The Muppets box set- My friend just got it for her birthday. And well, I’m jealous.  Not much to say there.

A brand new set of pots and pans- Do I really want this for my birthday? Hell yes I do.  I will be 36 years old, and I’m still using my grandmother’s mix and match set from college.  And although I think I’d like to blame it on nostalgia, we all know that’s not true.  Its prob one part lazy, one part broke, one part lazy? (See what I did there?  Lol) the point is, the non-stick isn’t so “non” anymore, and well…a 36 year old should do better right?

While we’re at it what about some new towels/wash clothes and sheets.  Listen, I don’t want people to think I’m trife, I just want you to understand that most people get these “new” things when they get married and so well….if it makes you feel better I can fill out a registry? Ooooor you can just get me some nice thread count sheets? Amen?

Frou-Frou appliances like…a juicer (oh that’s not frou-frou)…casserole pot? No not that either?  Omelet pan? Crock pot? No and No? Ok, well clearly I’m in need. I mean, who likes to see the ones they love live off of the bare necessities when they’re living high off the hog? Hey, I’m not judging you, I’m just saying “each one teach one”….

I am T-pain auto tune microphone- I still really want this. And I don’t know which one of you doesn’t want me to operate at my optimal greatness, but what IS clear is, someone won’t let me be great.  THIS microphone would let me belt out songs in my full greatness. I would use it. I promise I would. I KNOW I would. Now, will you let me be great?

Birthday sex- okay this is slightly inappropriate I know…okay okaaaaay highly inappropriate but heck I need the 5 months to figure this out…sooo let’s just consider this an… umm….well….note to self lololol yeah that’s it, note to self!

Okay so look we have….what 5 months? I let you slide by my half birthday (Oh hell yes I celebrate that too!!!! Pow!) but we have more than ample time to make it this go down in August.  Yes?  No one likes someone with excuses, so don’t offer any okay? And If you’re not keen on this list, then check out the Christmas one:  Bonus-post-red-ryder-carbine-action…that’ still pending as well…because I just know you’re saving your penny’s to get me that awesome EWF box set or my chia pet.  It’s okay…I totes get it. 

In the words of my old neighborhood subway crack head “I don’t beg….I sings fo mines” ….and I can sing for you with my new microphone.  You know you want it…

NIK’S RIDER BILL OF RIGHTS...

"Some people are settling down, some people are settling and some people refuse to settle for anything less than butterflies." - Sex in the City

Maaaan listen, I know I said I’m ready to date. But really I think I’m ready for a relationship, quite frankly if it wasn’t for the “ol’ getting to know you to see if we fit” thing, I could totes skip dating.  It’s so cumbersome ESPECIALLY for a girl who tends to attract crazies, weirdo’s, posers, and overall any castaway from relationship island.  It’s not that I look for them; it’s that I think maybe… they look for me.  I think I’m so casual about my dating life that if you are unavailable, have a hang up and or issue, I think my posture might scream “hey you over there…pick me!”

Whatever the case may be, I can’t avoid it-Want a relationship, gotta date.  Unnnnless I get an arranged marriage…..it’s a thought…..nah, check in with me in a couple years…if I can’t make it happen…arrange away lol.  Put that on e’ry thing I love! E’ry thing!!!

But I digress.  Now where were we….oh  yes….this confusing road called Single and Ready.  It’s a mess isn’t it??  The crazy thing is you always think you know what you want, what you’re ready for and then once you start on the path you’re like wait a minute … “hol up, hol up, hol up…” no so much right?

So check it, I may not know much of what I want, and those who know me outside of this blog/twitter/facebook and any other social media site I’m pimpin’ my name on….knows that I’m all over the place.  I’m a Leo, and I’m hella emotional, hella indecisive.  I shoot from the hip and as soon as the bullet is gone I will always, always want it back…but not without asking 3 people first if wanting it back is a good idea…hahahaha ! Yes, so the point is, I change my mind all the time.  ALL the time.  So as I’m embarking on dating….excuse me…trying to date…ahem…really…trying to figure out who I am in this dating world, I realize that there are many things that I’ve said I’ve wanted, thought I’ve wanted, prayed to have that I’m not so certain about anymore.  The hard core reality is I don’t really know what I want.  I’ve had glimpses of what I think I want, but I can’t quite be certain. And, as of late I’m becoming more and more sure of what it is I DON’T want.  Have to start somewhere right? 

Hey listen, I’m not a picky person. Really, I’m not. I have 2 maybe 3 (okay 4) requirements. 

1) Fun: We have to have fun together.  Yes, relationships take work, but dude I don’t want to feel like I’m going to work!!! LOL it should not drain you. 

2) I have to like you:  Like want to be around you, like you as a friend, and feel comfortable being my “me” around you.  This is important. In a society that’s constantly feeding woman the “what you need to do to keep/get/ kidnap “a man stories, it creates an environment where women are second guessing themselves.  One article says men like make up and heels…women with sensitive skin and flat feet are out buying out the back inventory of Sephora and stocking up on Red Bottoms….an article says men like women who are flirty and frail…chicks are out working on their light giggle and eating wafers and water.  Listen, nothing is wrong with presenting your best self IF it’s your true self but damn it…I’m not going to create a new me, just to snag you.  So in the end you just simply have to like me and I have to be comfortable giving you my me. (Which by the way is some kind of awesome if you’ve ever experienced it lol) 

3) I have to be physically attracted to you.  Yes people, I going to need to want to have sex with you.  Pow. Yup, I said it.  I can love you all day long when the day is done if I don’t have to urge to WANT to jump your bones, well then….party’s over.  You can’t fake that type of attraction…

4)I want you to be in to me.  Not just like me as a friend, not just think I’m hella cool. But in to me.  Miss me when I’m gone.  Miss me when you don’t talk to me. Feel like there’s no one like me period. And if we don’t talk, no one can fill that void. Into me in to me.

5) I need to be comfortable letting down my guard. I don’t do it often with everybody. And I know folks think I do, but what I share is different from being vulnerable.  And it takes a few awkward encounters (because yes I can be hella awkward) for me to get to the point of being vulnerable but once I am, you have me forever.  <<<it sucks when you do it before the forever part comes LOL hard to reel back vulnerability. TRUST!

6) Laugh. I love love love love to laugh…it goes hand in hand with fun.  If you haven’t heard a full gut belly laugh from me.  We. Are. Not. Friends….and I don’t feel comfortable around you…and we won’t make it. Hahahahaha

Wait I said only 4 right?  Ha… so that’s 1) fun 2) comfortable giving you my me 3) sex 4) In to me 5) vulnerable 6) Laughter

Okay simple list right?   Well I went on a date recently and this is when I realized my list had flaws.  The shit is too vague. Simply put,  success lies in the details people. D-E-T-A-I-L-S!  Yo this date was so bad that it forced me to come up with an “I don’t know what I want but this is what I don’t want “ list.  Très importante (Yes I just Señor Bloomberg’d yall lol)

Listen, I’m ready…I’m out hailing cabs…and I’m looking for cabs that have their cab light on…ready, available, to swoop a passenger like me up.  But listen..I know my cab rider’s bill of rights. And you’re not just going to force any ol’ thing on me ok-kay kay?

 I’ll only list a few because shit…who likes a complainer and in the end I totally went on a date…even if he was a moaning, clingy, love professing mess…

The “umm yeah…no” list:

1)      One sided love affair: It’s important to say, that Yes, I want him to be in to me BUT….wait for it…….I would need to be…...in to him too.  Aha! Bingo! Missing factor, I need to be equally into him as he is into me.  So what I don’t want is someone who is so eager sooooo into me that it doesn’t give me the space to ascertain whether I’m into them as well.

2)      Liars: flattery goes a long way, but obsession makes you run.  I, like the next woman, love a good compliment. I am a Leo remember (hear me roar).  So yes, compliment me…within reason.   Don’t say I don’t need to work out or tell me I have a beautiful singing voice when we know that isn’t the truth.  That isn’t flattery…it’s well….lying. LOL

3)      A sappy love professing mess:  So yeah….I’m just not that chick. Period.

4)      Liars:  Yea I know it was 2 but damn it if it didn’t make 4 as well. Dude, I can’t be the one for you after one date and 4 phone conversations. In the words of my beloved, “I don’t believe you…you need more people”

5)      Drama: Okay this next one is a wee wee little picky…but if you moan when you kiss me…..night night homie.  We. Are. Done. Here.

6)      Suffocation: This might be some girl’s thing, but it certainly isn’t mine. I don’t need a step by step blow by blow of what you’re doing.  I don’t need to hold hands in the car, hold hands walking down the street, I don’t need a body guard, I don’t think you need to look for my cars as I cross the street, sip my drink for Ruffies, protect my wine from spillage hahaha okay I’m taking it there but you get the point. Yeah if someone runs up on us be on your A game, but I’m 35…I think…I know how to cross the street without holding hands.

7)      Synchronized walking: Speaking of holding hands…which I think I’m able to manage a bit…but that walking with the arm around each other…sir, no sir.  Try it and I will duff you right there…like about face…holla at me later home skillet!  Why, you ask? There is nothing. NOTHING. NO THING more awkward than walking with someone’s arm around you. The…shit…is…like...physics! He has to be a certain height…your pace has to be together…legs…coordinated…hips…syncopated…man…eff that…miss me aaaaalllll the way with that. K?

I’ll stop there…I have more…I just don’t want to scare any potential suitors in one blog, nah mean? Lol But the question is what do I want? Like reaaaaaally want. And the answer is:  I don’t know, but I know I’ll know, when I know it.  Ya dig?  Because there really is a fine line between finding THE one, and finding ANY one….I think….hell, I don’t know.  Taxi anyone?

Yes, it’s been a long time but yes I’m back, and if you love me like I think you do….You’ll just read and never…never ever…ever ever… bring this hiatus up again. K?