Episode 30- Swagger like Us. You're Not Famous...

...so why the hell do you need an entourage?

I'm just asking. But this is not why I wrote--although it plays a part in the story.

I hate this word, I do, but it recently came to my attention that I have no "swagger." I pretty much never gave a f!%#, but whatever... that's the consensus.

Why do I need 'swagger'...seems everyone these days has it and some are overdosing on it. I saw the swagger overdose first hand last night...

I decided to be bold and hit up this lounge I've been trying to go to for awhile. They do a mix and mingle event there once a month. I had invited a friend, but a last minute plan change had me going solo. Let me say upfront, I had a nice time. I chatted up a couple of people over drinks, watched bits and pieces of the NCAA tourney on the big screen, danced a little and then decided to hang back and do my usual m.o.--which is to watch and observe.

Here's where the plot thickens--turns out, the DJ at this place is someone I flirted with awhile back on an online dating site. The world is small and flat. Anyway, keep in mind I was Hans Solo last night so I couldn't do the casual "let me dance within your field of vision move" and hope for the recognition factor to kick in...and besides DJ xxx (as referenced from here on out) had a bunch of hard looking, mean muggin', "pretty boy" groupies/entourage members standing up against the DJ booth cock blocking as it were...or at least throwing a major kink in the game plan.

Meanwhile, as our heroine (that would be me) stands by the bar and contemplates this conundrum, I get the feeling that someone is watching me, casually getting closer and closer to my fortress of solitude. I wanted to say...if you want to talk to me I like to think I am approachable--but alas no. I casually sipped on my vodka cranberry while playing the cat, mouse, cat game all night. DJ xxx never came out of the damn booth. The "we love DJ xxx" fan club in their ever swaggerific gear never moved out of the way...and ol creepy starey, just kept well...staring, but never ended up talking to me.

Now, I relayed this story to a couple of friends this morning and I proceeded to say something that I find to be true...I do not believe that people see me as "approachable" and you know why???

Swagger. There's THAT word again.

No, but seriously...I have noticed that when I walk in a room just looking cute and really make an effort to look like someone who is nice and friendly and approachable (which is what i did last night)...nothing. But lemme walk in like f' you and everything you stand, kneel and lay down for, oh it's on and poppin. It's like I will reek of eau du "get the hell away from me" and it becomes an instant aphrodisiac. Go figure!

But see the thing with me is...I can't be like that all the time. It's just not me. And if you don't have it in you to come to me when you're interested then that's your loss. I'm all for meeting new people whether it turns into something or not. If I don't have enough 'swagger' I will still continue to do me.

No one on the corner has swagger like us, swagger like us, swagger swagger like us...

Episode 29- Read My Lip(s)

Open letter to the dumb girl who really wanted to get the lip tattoo.

Dear Becky,

I like to think I was saving you from making the biggest mistake of your life. Wasn't trying to call you out, but you seem to be of reasonable intelligence, what with your ambition to apply to Harvard and all.

However, getting the word "Jew" tattooed on the inside of your lip, when you are clearly not Jewish and have no logical explaination for your choice, seems a tad bit foolish and irrational...just a TAD. Many people have gotten tats which they've later come to regret. I would hate to see you added among that list. To offer sage advice--courtesy of my 4 year daughter--"some people just don't make good choices"

Although I applaude your courage (noted with an over abundance of sarcasm), I'm going to need you to get a grip and rethink your life choices.

Signed,
Common Sense

UPDATE:

So Becky changed her mind about the word, but um... well... see for yourself...



I weep on the inside.

Episode 28- Comprehension Skills and Chicken and Waffles

Ok...

I had pretty much kept quiet about S since the breakup. But TODAY I was sufficiently pushed over the edge over to feel COMPELLED to write commentary. This is not a good thing...

Apparently S has what I like to refer to as Chicken and Waffles Syndrome. Lemme 'splain...

Have you ever walked into a restaurant and not known what you want to eat? you don't know whether you have a taste for something salty or something sweet, your palatte is having conflict of interest issues...the cure for this is chicken and waffles. Seriously! For some reason the combination of those two things eaten at any time of the day will immediately cure whatever craving you had, stop you from fence straddling, increase your decision making and comprehension skills as well as cure your hunger...even better if it is followed by an Arnold Palmer (that's half sweet tea, half lemonade).

I would love to force feed S an entire bucket of fried chicken and about 50 waffles cause right now I feel like there are some serious issues with indecision going on over here.



When we broke up, I was crystal clear about what I wanted and where we stood. The only thing I could've done to be clearer about it was skywrite it. I said I wanted us to be friends and the response I got was no.

If someone tells me we can't be friends then I have no need to call you, IM you, have idle chit chat or rehash any parts of our relationship.

So imagine my surprise when I get a call weeks later from S complaining about how I made no effort to call or speak.

Ooooooooooooooooooook?

Whatever.

Yesterday, S calls me, apologizes, tells me that we should attempt to be friends. I'm thinking wow, ok...this is mature. Glad we can handle this like adults. But I start seeing where this might be headed when we spoke last night...the conversation kept steering in the direction of talking about the relationship. RED FLAG.

This brings me to today...we are on IM this morning. S starts joking about seeing someone new. Truth be told I don't care. Yeah it kinda hurts, but who am I to stop you at this point. I'm the one who walked in the first place so, do you. When I asked about it, S does what S always does to get a reaction out of me which is avoid my question by asking about my daughter.

Pump your brakes got damn it!!!

I'm not going for it and I said so. So, S calls me at WORK with an attitude no less and then pulls a 180 and says we need to get back together.

Say what?

Ok...lemme get this straight... first you tell me you can't handle being friends and then suddenly you can, then you turn around and start this bs about you want us back together.

Eat some chicken and waffles and make up your got damn mind!!!

My decision has BEEN made. I'm full and I have the itis. *BURP* Check, please!

What Don't You Fv%$@!G Understand?

This is officially my new theme song...



The Bale Out courtesy of The Run Down igottherundown.blogspot.com

Woooo lawd! LMBAO

Adventures in Dating-Redux

So I suppose I'm back to being officially single. S and I haven't spoken in about 2 weeks now (although I know that there is a continued lurking presence on my blog *I always feel like, somebody's watching me* LOL.) That being said I choose not to blog about my feelings concerning the moment formerly known as my relationship. I'll save that for a later day perhaps.

In any case the point of this is...I had a long conversation with my daily pool buddy (this is what I do on my downtime at work) HTP and we got in this long discussion about we're both currently in the same boat. Of course for his part, he is a certified gigolo by every standard definition.

gig·o·lo n. pl. gig·o·los

A man who has a continuing sexual relationship with and receives financial support from a woman.

and he may hate that I said that, but shoot I call 'em like I see 'em. LOL. Actually to be fair he's not that bad...aside from being an arrogant prick--but I am the only one who can fully get away with calling him that.

I joke, but the truth of the matter is we're both kinda stuck. As he so eloquently put it

"...there are days when we jus chill the fuck out. i know this chick that never chills out. i jus went the fuck off on her. its like s****. u cant get a break. an then u snap then they say ur crazy. and u forgive and forgive cause u know heck i can be a smart ass. so imma brush that off. but they keep on, till u jus say u know wha fuck it. then they want to say sorry."

Shoot, that's the story of my life when it comes to dealing with relationships. Folks like making things waaaaaaaaay more difficult than need be.

I'll be honest, there are times when I really like being single, but this isnt one of those times. At the same time though I'm not the person to jump back into something, just for the sake of being with someone--that reeks of eau du desperation--not my style. I wish things would've worked out with S, I do, but now that I'm back flying solo, I guess I'll just have to deal until I get another shot...

Yo HTP... 8 ball corner pocket.

Episode-26 Keep Your Little D**k in Your Pants

So, a nice bombshell has been dropped this weekend.

My 13 year old God son has started getting his little rocks off.

Yep! He's having sex.

At 13!!!

This should not surprise me, but somehow it does. The girl in question is apparently also 13 and from what I was told this is NOT her first sexual partner

I'm quietly seething and resisting the urge to knock the black off these kids

Now, I'm in the predicament of not quite knowing what to say on this. For all intents and purposes he and his dad had the "sex talk" re: STDs, condoms etc., etc., etc. I'm just not ready to see my God son on Maury arguing with some dumb little girl over whether or not he is or is not her baby daddy.

At the risk of sounding like a bonafide adult...I am not understanding why kids think it is cute to have sex and/or think that teenage pregnancy is just the way to go.

I'm not about to give a lecture or a sermon. But I can honestly speak from the perspective of someone who had sex a little too early. I love my daughter dearly, but I consider it a blessing that I had her at 27 and not 17. That I was smart enough to finish both high school and college before getting myself caught up in some baby daddy drama--and to be honest I don't have that now.

That being said I think it is completely unrealistic to teach kids that abstinence is the only way... AHEM! Sarah Palin-- that route obviously did NOT work for your family...however, knowing the potential risks and consequences, I don't want to condone teenage sexual activity either.

Ah so, we enter the parental quandary...

It's not my place to tell folks how to raise their kids--although in this case I think I'm gonna have my godson talk to my friend Sarina who is a social worker and former counselor who worked with young people who are newly diagnosed with HIV/AIDS. All I'm saying is we have to be mindful. Shoot, I want to have my speech (and my shotgun) well prepared from when my daughter gets close to that age.

Barbie has gone from MILF to GILF...Happy Birthday Bitch!

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