See, It’s complicated…

Today, I am in a place that I have not been in a very long time. Confused Confusion. Basically, confused beyond my regular normal level of confusion.

There are people that tell me I am a natural flirt. I believe I am friendly. It can be confused as interest, when I am merely being nice or cordial. Don’t get me wrong I do flirt, and most recently by text and email. I exchanged information last week with a guy that was so super tight he made me blush for our entire conversation. My cheeks were HOT to the touch when he walked away. We talk on the phone, but the flirting goes down over text and email every day. Today I dropped by the post office to mail off a package and ran into a childhood buddy while addressing the label. After the hellos and howdoyoudos, she introduced me to the woman with her. Her friend greeted me warmly. Then my friend turns to me, “I believe you met her husband at the event last Thursday.”

“Oh really,” and I turn to her friend, “what’s his name?”

“John*, John Williams*.” Oh. I thought to myself that’s a distinct name and the one and only John Williams that I met at the event last Thursday.

“Ah, yes. I did indeed meet your husband.” I smiled, but I was thinking John Williams* is this woman’s husband? I have been flirting with and talking to this woman’s husband? I stood there while the two previous sentences processed in my head. Not once with all our communication did he mention her. I am certain he told me was not married. I am supposed to have dinner with her husband this evening. Hmmm.

I am adding facebook to it’s the devil status. Although today I should view facebook as a saint. I learned a guy I have gone out with on four separate occasions is in a relationship. At least that is what it indicates on his facebook page. So I chose to confront him with the information.

“Your facebook page says you are in a relationship with [Insert Girl Name].“



“The relationship status on your facebook page says you have a girlfriend.”


“But I didn’t friend you?!?”

“Irrelevant Detail. I am looking at your page right now.”

“What??? Are you stalking me now?”

I cover my hand with my mouth to hold back an astonished gasp. “Your dream would be for me to stalk you. Good Bye.”

My cell immediately rings and guess who it is? Him. I reject his call. He calls again. This time I just let it ring. He leaves a voicemail. Then I get a text message from guess who? Him. Asking me to call him. Then he calls me again. Is there anything more to say after you have accused someone of stalking? I don’t think so. You wouldn’t want to give the stalker any ammunition to continue the stalking, right?

I received a call from an old acquaintance in town on business that wants to get together. I know that I should have told him I was busy and just caught up with him over the phone, but I enjoy his company. I also no longer have dinner plans. I agree to meet him for drinks and dinner. We are enjoying ourselves when a young woman walks over to our table. “Hi Dixon*, funny running into you like this. [Insert Girl Name], remember her, your girlfriend, she wants to talk to you.” And she holds her cell out in front of him. Now, I am sitting on his lap. He gives her a look that says “Really? You are doing this, why?” I understand girl. She is protecting her friend and feels the need to let him know that she KNOWS and she SEES him looking very suspect when he is supposed to be her girl’s man. Oh and not only does she know and see him, but she has passed the information on to her girl. Who is now waiting on the other end of her cell. I do believe she should have handled it differently. I have no problem with her telling her friend or making her presence known by coming over to the table so that he knows he needs to tell his girl he was out with another girl before she does. However, rolling over to the table and basically demanding that he talk to his girlfriend is a bit much. We are not in highschool. I remind myself that I am sitting on his lap and that probably sent her over the edge. Then she eyes me like I knew he was taken and I am doing something wrong. I want to say something, but I decide to remain silent especially since I am sitting on his lap and anything I say will be sent over the waves and heard by the girlfriend waiting at the other end of the line. I want to spare her further embarrassment. No woman wants to get a call from her friend that goes along the lines of “Gurl you will never believe who I see all boo’ed up with some gurl that ain’t you.” Although there is nothing going on between us and we are merely old acquaintance, if he has a girl our meeting IS inappropriate. He takes the cell, “Hello [Insert Girl Name], I will call you later.” Click. He hands the cell back to girl who looks astonished that he has the audacity not to explain himself to her and his girlfriend. He reaches into his pocket and drops bills on the table, stands up and places me on the ground next to him, then tells me we need to go and grabs my hand. I look back, girl’s mouth is a big O. I feel his hand pulling me and guiding me out of the restaurant. I leave the place like I am on the back of a pick-up truck, going forward backwards.

All three events happened today. What’s up universe?

John Williams* is a fictitious name made up to protect the innocent.

Dixon* is a fictitious name made up to protect the innocent.

Taylor Swift v. Kanye West or Open letter to Kanye West

WTH Kanye! What were you thinking or NOT thinking last night? Kanye I’m going to need you to get a grip and be the mature, level-headed and gracious gentleman I know your mother raised you to be. You do not always have to share your opinion and be on the PR campaign to get your name in the press. Kanye sometimes bad press IS bad press.

I feel sorry for Taylor Swift. It was HER moment. It was not Beyonce’s, not yours, it was Taylor’s moment. Kanye she looked so pretty and beautiful in her gown ready to accept her award for Best Female Video. She always looks polished and classy, yet fashionable (a skill some grown women in your industry can’t achieve). It was very clear in the stunned expression on her face when they called her name that she didn’t think she was going to win. I mean we both know she sings country music and MTV likes rap, hip-hop and a lil’ pop. I know you heard her Kanye. She was all “OMG I sing country music, but you still picked me you’re the BEST mtv” when you, Kanye “Bush don’t like Black people” West, had to jump your outburst prone self on stage and show your behind. While sometimes your un-thought out diatribes are funny yesterday they were reckless and mean and targeted at someone who didn’t deserve such an ugly smack in the face. Did you look at her face when you handed the mike back to her? After you told her she didn’t deserve to win did you notice the shocked and disturbed look on her face? You might not have thought it through, you might have done it to be funny, but it was cruel and you crushed her moment.

Kanye DO NOT take someone’s moment no matter how badly you believe you should. My bishop says you will ruin your life if you can’t hold your tongue* or keep yourself in your seat. I too believe the world is entitled to my opinion, but sometimes you must be mature and keep it to yourself, or at least confine it to your blog or twitter it to your followers. This time your rant was extremely rude and a sign of poor sportsmanship. So you are on team Beyonce, but someone from another team wins. It’s ok Kanye. Plus unless she’s performing Beyonce’s awkward, boring and oh my that flat voice, good thing she is pretty. No one will ever question Beyonce’s supreme divaness, but Kanye she can’t win everything because that would make for a boring awards show. However, it is possible that some other people thought Taylor’s video was even better than Beyonce’s. Oh my the tragedy, but Kanye if you had just been patient Beyonce won the most important award of the night so was it even necessary for you to jump on stage?

I have decided that I can no longer just stand by and turn a blind eye to your repeated attention grabbing antics. What’s wild is that you are cool, or should I say a refreshingly different edition to the hip-hop world, just like Taylor swift was to the vma awards, but you reduce your coolness quotient with each outburst.  Oh and Kanye’s good friends, I need you all to pool your resources to get him a collar, that comes equipped with a clicker that his body guard can push anytime he gets that twitch in his eye before he’s about to say or do something unnecessary. Kanye sometimes you have to turn yourself over to others who have your best interest in mind when you can no longer make wise choices for yourself. Kanye you need to be collared and gagged by your friends. I know this seems harsh, but it’s for the best. I mean really Kanye if you are going to interrupt anyone say something profound and meaningful. Throughout history we have needed people to voice controversial opinions to right wrongs and end oppression, but Kanye your rants aren’t ending world hunger, bringing peace in the middle east or ending jim crow laws. Your rants are artistic opinions for which the beauty is truly in the eye and ear of the beholder. Although some may like to see Beyonce gyrate and skip around in a leotard, maybe more people enjoyed Taylor’s cute little video about teenage unrequited love. Kanye that is okay, have some respect for your fellow artist’s artistic expressions. Cause please understand everybody doesn’t like your music or videos and certainly aren’t pleased that you have won awards for it, but people aren’t jumping on the stage when you win because they respect your artistic expression. They also understand that as adults there are decency rules of engagement that govern how grown ladies and gentlemen interact. It might be different if you said clever, original, profound statements that helped improve our world, but you don’t so keep your mouth shut and count your teeth Kanye.



P.S. I am praying for you.

*Proverbs 13:3 NIV version: He who guards his lips guards his life, but he who speaks rashly will come to ruin.

All my single ladies put your hands up…

I love to see happy, well functioning couples that love each other. I’m not one of those sappy love the idea of being in love ladies, but I’m all for people finding a companion. I have reached the coupling-age and an increasing number of my friends are making co-habitation plans or getting hitched. This leads me to today’s post. And it is possible that I have written about this before, but to engaged and married women please don’t forget the single lady struggle. I’m not saying dwell on it everyday, but don’t mistreat your single girlfriends now that you are all married, fianced and boo’ed up. I’m going to give you examples of some actions you may want to avoid so you don’t piss off your single girlfriends. 

Don’t try to tell me….
This is by far the most annoying thing that ladies who are married or almost married love to do, tell you what you are doing wrong in your relationship or search for a man. I do seek and heed advice. I try to avoid unnecessary chaos and grief in my life if I can help it. If listening to your cautionary tale or advice can help me avoid misery I will take it. However, that should not be confused with being given unsolicited advice on why I don’t have a man or a ring. Especially if that advice is given while you appear to be looking down your nose at me, and I remember last week before you had that engagement rock, you were asking if I could come with you to ride by his house or help you come up with names of super heroes cause you were trying to figure out the pass code for his gmail account. You have been successful in finding a mate and you get a gold star, but that doesn’t make you an expert on finding a man. You simply found the right one for you.

Don’t deny me my plus one…

I understand that weddings are expensive. Most of the expense is the dress and providing food and beverages at the reception. If you have invited me to your wedding and you allowed me a plus one on the invitation, you can’t take it back because your budget and guest list keeps growing. Contrary to popular belief there is a shortage of single eligible bachelors at weddings. Generally all the bachelors are either ring bearers (they may be adorbale and cuddly but they are under-age) or old uncles that recently had hip replacement surgery or fall asleep as soon as they sit down. I want a date at a wedding if I can help it. You also can’t deny me my plus one because you have never met the guy and don’t consider him to be someone of importance worthy enough to attend your wedding. It doesn’t matter if I have only known him for 24 hours prior to your wedding. If he has made me happy in those 24 hours you should be happy for me. You got a man so stop hating.

Don’t go all bridezilla on me…

I’m sure everyone has seen the show bridezilla or you may have your very own bridezilla story of how your sweet, soon to be married girlfriend flipped out on you, hit you, cursed you, screamed on you, demanded unreasonableness out of you, caught some unnecessary attitude with you and expected you to just take it like a man (completely forgetting you are a woman and have feelings). I don’t think any more explanation or details are necessary for this example. Just remember your wedding day is only about 6 maybe 8 hours long and the ugliness you dish out may not be forgotten in that amount of time.

Don’t have me looking suspect…

I think brides-to-be really need to think through and analyze the sizes, shapes and shades of their wedding party before picking wedding colors and dresses. I know it’s your day and you want to be the belle of the ball, but I don’t have to look ridiculous so you can shine. Ugly dresses used to fold nicely and neatly into closets and pictures used to sit in boxes, photo albums or in cameras, but now there’s this evil thing called facebook. That means that ugly orange dress you said was coral, that gave me birthing baby hips, will be viewed by people who weren’t even at the wedding. You can stop that from happening by being a good friend and picking a universally flattering dress shape, in a flattering color.   

I think the above tips should keep the love flowing between the have man and the have man nots and save friendships.

Perpetrating a Fraud…

National Blog Posting Month is here. I am going to participate  and attempt to post every day for the month of July. What Fun. Ha! My random thoughts everyday for a month. This is going to get interesting. Well let’s get cracking and I mean literally because I am flexing my intertwined fingers out in front of me now. What will I talk about today?

Ah! I know…

I am so late on this, but I have to speak on it anyway. Plus, I am late for obvious reasons the death of the King has me unconcerned about reality tv stars. However, while watching Chelsea Lately and dozing off to sleep, I saw a commercial for E! News. The commercial promised pictures of Kendra’s wedding at the Playboy Mansion. WTH?!?!?

I woke up and pulled the spectacles from my bedside dressing table onto my nose. I was certain I had heard the wrong thing. Chelsea comes back on and I am hoping that she is about to shake hands with the audience so we can get to the news. This is the first time that I’ve ever wished I had internet access in my room. Why am I concerned about Kendra? Of all the causes to support, problems to resolve and subjects to research why would I pick one so shallow, misguided and without any redeeming value? Because I have a strange fascination with the Girls Next Door and their cohabitation experiment. It was the first reality show that I made sure I was home to watch. I was actually sad when it went off since all the ladies left the house to go explore the wider world. The story was as advertised, Kendra was indeed married at the playboy mansion and the proof was in the pictures. I know Kendra is all parties and booty shake, but even she had to know you don’t get married at your Ex’s house. I mean doesn’t she know this? Shame on Mama Kendra if she did not.   

The pictures left me with two thoughts…

First Thought…

Is Kendra Crazy? What kind of woman gets married at her Ex’s house where God only knows what happened and they cohabitated? And what kind of man stands for it? Even if Kendra had a wonderful relationship with Hugh and the break up wasn’t bad it is still not appropriate to marry your NEW man at your OLD man’s house. I don’t care how much you care about him it’s disrespectful to your NEW man. There should be a clear divider between relationships and conducting your nuptials at your Ex’s place certainly blurs the lines. Closure is not saying I do on OLD man’s lawn. Hmmm….always thought Kendra’s airy-ness was merely exaggerated to portray her as a carefree, young spirit, but maybe she is a little off.

The second thought…

Wait! Ohhhh NoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo! It can’t be true, but it has to be? The Girl’s next door was a SHAM! Oh the tragedy of it. I put my hand to my forehead and fainted into my fluffy pillows. I was outraged! I was deceived, hood-winked, duped, 52 faked out, bamboozled and swindled out of my precious time. The playboy mansion was merely an apartment building for blondes. Holly claiming that Hugh didn’t need viagra cause she snuck up on him a few times just fabrications to prop up his swinger lifestyle. It was a marketing ploy to make Playboy relevant again and accessible to younger generations. A cheap, simple, savvy way to revitalize the brand. No wonder those ladies didn’t have any cat fights (I witnessed a few side glances), they were NOT sharing a man. They merely shared the same residence. I was convinced of this last night lying in my bed. I suspected it, but Kendra’s playboy mansion wedding pictures made it perfectly clear that their show was a fraud. I spent Sundays watching this scripted, fictitious, soap-opera farce passed off as a reality show. I will admit I was entertained, but reality tv does not require willing suspension of disbelief of it’s viewers because it’s supposed to be real. I mean I know there is “light” scripting and some editing, but the whole premise of the show was not real. The audacity of them all. I was merely a pawn in their ploy to gain tv ratings and publicity. Fooled me once, but it’s shame on you Hugh. What I was watching was a sham and you know it! I want an apology and some sort of consolation prize for playing along.

You gotta draw the line somewhere…

I’m prissy, I’m delicate and I don’t like to get my hands dirty unless I’m making cupcakes. I’m not the quintessential girl next door who can hang with the boys, but I do have some qualities that I’ve been told make me endearing. I love to eat and don’t hide it when I’m out on a date. I love action movies. I like big explosions, unbelievable fight sequences and macho men. I like sweaty men. I like hairy men. I like going to home depot, just love the way that place smells. I don’t scream or flinch at the site of bugs or blood, kill em or plug it. I’m not into sports, but will watch (and be quiet or call you afterwards) because I understand it’s like reality tv for guys. I really thought I was open minded. I thought I was progressive. Until today. Today I realized to hell with trying to be accommodating, dudes are straight trippin with this sports stuff and they need to be called out on it. Well one dude in particular.

I was invited to watch Extreme Fighting with a guy that I’ve gone out with a few times. Saying that I was invited implies that I showed up on my own, but that’s not accurate. We had planned on dinner and a movie, but the movie was sold out. We were trying to decide our next move when his face lit up and he announced that he knew exactly where we could go. A friend of his was having a fight party. I agreed to go despite not being able to think of a single boxing match that was coming on that evening. I thought well maybe he knows something I don’t know. Plus I actually smiled to myself because I had mentioned very briefly during our dinner conversation that I watched the Manny Pacquiao documentary on HBO. Yes! He was listening. So I believe this prompted his eureka moment of “I’ll take this lady to the fight party, yeah that’s just what I’ll do.”

When we arrived, the fight had already started. The host offered us food and drinks, but since I had just eaten I asked for a glass of wine. I could hear the fight, but I couldn’t see the screen. It was very crowded and people were standing all around, but they were all very enthusiastic. Yelling and carrying on like this was a title fight in the Tyson era (those were the days). My friend asked if I wanted to sit down and of course I said yes, so he took my hand and led me up some stairs to a little nook overlooking the den. Perfect. I could people watch and watch the fight.

We sat down, looked at artwork on the walls of the little nook (which made me want to start really paying attention to art and collecting) and then the host came up to make fun of us for separating ourselves from the crowd. We giggled, chit chatted the host then he called everyone’s attention down below to our secret hide-away. After being put on the spot I said that I was here to watch the fight and I was being distracted so “Shoooooooo!”

When I actually looked at the tv I was confused. The dudes on the screen were rolling around on the ground and punching one another. I sat my glass of wine down and peered at the screen. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The guys were in a drag out, “organized”, street fight. The only thing that separated them from say a street brawl were their little multi-logo emblazoned shorts, a ref and a cage. WTH?!? A CAGE? A CAGE! Actually a metal fence, to contain all the scrapping that was going on. What was worse is that when they weren’t rolling around on the ground entangled in one another’s crotch and legs, they were punching the stuffing out of one another bare fisted. I’ve never been in a fight, but I’ve seen enough fights to know that bare fisted punching is brutal. Plus they were both bloody, lumpy and in need of a trainer to treat their wounds and squirt some water in their mouths.

After about two minutes I couldn’t watch it anymore. I walked to the other side of the nook and looked at the art. First, I thought why would he bring me here does he think this is what I find entertaining? Second, what made him think that I would enjoy watching men savagely beat up one another? Third, was I the only one in the house completely repulsed by this? It reminded me of mortal combat they just didn’t pull a heart out of a rib cage while I was watching, but I bet they would if they could.  As I thought through what I might have said besides the Pac-Man doc, I started to consider that he might actually really be into this Extreme Combat Fighting.

About a minute passed before he came over to me, but he arrived at the exact moment that I was becoming alarmed about the possibility that he might really be into this. The alarm of my realization must have shown on my face because he immediately asked if I was okay. I started shaking my head no. I didn’t know what to say, but I knew I wasn’t going to last too long. Watching those two minutes had actually made me sick to my stomach. He asked if I needed to sit down, I must have been ashen faced too. I nodded yes. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions that he was Extreme Fighting’s biggest fan, so I told myself he just wanted to see his boys and it was close.

I didn’t know what to say to him so we just sat there for a few minutes listening to the cheers and the sound of flesh being pummeled to a pulp. Then there was a collective “Ooooh” from the crowd downstairs and he jumped up to go see. I thought oh he likes this. So I said “Do you like this extreme fighting?”

“Yes, it’s like fight club.”

“Do you watch it often?”

“Yeah, I’ve even been to a couple of matches.”

Yikes wrong answers. I was trying to think what excuse I was going to come up with for having to leave. I know guys like sports and sports are a way to release the bottled up aggression that many of them carry around. However, I have to draw the line at modern day gladiators who look like they are literally trying to maim and kill each other. I also draw the line on men who are into this sport. Dude should have kept this underwraps like whatever porn he had at the crib. I can’t with a clear conscious watch one man try to kill another man and cheer. I don’t find it entertaining at all. I can’t even humor someone and watch a little bit. Even if he was the perfect guy for me the fact that he enjoyed this took him out the running. I know guys like guts and gore, but geeze this was on a level that I was not able to tolerate. I believe boxing and football are about as extreme as I can go. So I texted a friend and ten minutes later I told him that I had to go. I was tired and repulsed by the extreme fighting. Good Night and Good Bye. No further explanation.

You’re MEAN…take that

I’ve been going to church a lot more lately, at least more so than I have since I lived under my mother’s roof. I need divine direction right now and I find going to church helps me sort through my thoughts and re-energizes me for the coming week. I always get a warm and fuzzy feeling inside when I’m there and I need that.

I never get to church on time, so I always end up in the rafters. I don’t mind it much because there are screens to see the pastor. Plus, I get to see way more people than I would if I sat closer to the pulpit. When I arrived in the sanctuary, an usher directed me to a new section and I decided to sit in the middle of the empty section about five rows up from the first row. I was all by myself and I liked it. I was surprised when another straggler came up and instead of sitting in one of the first rows chose to come to my row. All the free seats around and he decides to sit right next to me. Hmmmm? He greeted me with a “Goodmorning Sister,” and sat down. I nodded my head and turned my attention back to the last song before the sermon.

Through out the service my new pew buddy was pretty vocal, commenting on the pastor’s one liners, repeating what the pastor directed us to say to our neighbor and sharing his bible. He even went so far as to place the bible in my lap. Once the service was over I pulled out my cell phone to locate my mother. My new pew buddy asked if I was texting my man. I chuckled sighed and replied “No.”

“Do you have a man?” He said with raised eyebrows, as if I might lie and just say yes even if I didn’t have one.

I stared some what blankly at him and then I said “Yes, Jesus.”

He laughed. “Cute, If I was your man I would come to church with you. Please, I wouldn’t let you out my site.”

At this I nodded again and proceeded to get up.

“Where are you going?” I was a little alarmed by his tone which sounded more like “Woman where the hell are you going I’m talking to you?” I guess when some body shares a bible with someone they feel they have a right to know where and what the sharee is doing. I pretended not to hear him and continued making my way towards the stairs.

“Hey wait up!”

I sped up a bit after I heard this, but he was fast and nearly knocked me down to get to the stairs first. He did offer his hand as I stepped off the last step, but I ignored it and used the banister.

“Where are you rushing off to?” He said very nonchalantly like he hadn’t just pushed me over to block my way.

“I need to find my Mother.” I thought this might get him to back off, but it did not.

“Would you like to go to brunch? That’s if you aren’t busy.”

I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. I thought he was kind of cute, he had on a nice suit, smelled good and had nice manicured hands, but he was so obvious when he came and sat next to me on my lonesome pew. “Thank you, but I have plans.”

“Ok, I’ll take a rain check on brunch. Why don’t you give me a call and we can get together later this week.” He then fumbled around in the breast pocket of his jacket and pulled out a wallet. “Here’s my card, my cell’s on the back.”

I took his card and put it in my program.

“You aren’t going to call me are you?”

I am not sure what my face looked like, but he backed up a bit, so I imagine I looked startled and my lip may have been curled a bit. At first I started to say yes, but I was in church and that’s the last place I need to lie. “No, I’m not going to call you.”

“Why not? I’m a nice guy.”

“We’re in church, actually in the sanctuary and you are trying to pick me up. I’m not sure that’s appropriate.”

“Nothing wrong with finding someone attractive in church.”

“Maybe so, but you seem a little anxious.”

“No, I just know what I like when I see it and go after it.”

“You’re just a little bit overwhelming, and you come off a little pushy. I’m sure you’re nice, but I’m all set and don’t need to make any new friends. Hope you have a wonderful rest of the day. Be blessed. ”

He looked at me with disgust and snarled back “You think it’s easy for a guy to just approach a woman? It’s not! You complain about not being able to find a man and when a great one comes right up and wants to take you out you just can’t wait to say no. I hope the rest of your day is hell!”

I stepped back and put my hand on my chest. To say that I was shocked was an understatement. He was a little loud so we caught the attention of other worshippers leaving the sanctuary and had attracted an audience. Before I could even shush him or say anything he retorted with

“I think church is an excellent place to meet someone and I thought you might enjoy my company, but you’re mean!!!” He said the word mean like we were in kindergarten and I had the only green crayon and didn’t let him use it to color the grass green.


“You heard me.” And with that he turned and hurriedly walked off in a huff.

People were looking at me and I can just imagine what they were thinking. I just looked over them and rushed towards the exit. I couldn’t believe him. The nerve of him to call me mean. I didn’t really know how to feel about him calling me mean. I’ve been hearing that a lot recently and not just from men who have been spurned by me, but by men who I’m genuinely interested it. What I get is mean and cold to be exact. In the church episode, he was a complete stranger so I could care less. That’s not true. I do care because I don’t want to be rude to people. I just thought he was tacky and too obvious. I’m trying to give reverence to the Lord and he was just waiting til the service was over to get my digits. I also didn’t appreciate his assumption that I’ve been complaining about the lack of good men. I am not saying that I have not complained, but he doesn’t know that and it doesn’t mean that I have to give every man a chance.

I just don’t know why if you don’t want to be hit on or do not respond positively to declarations of love you are suddenly mean. If I don’t think we click, I don’t find you attractive, or know that in the future you will get on my nerves or I on yours shouldn’t you be thanking me for not wasting your time. In real life you only get unlimited minutes on cell phones. With a finite number of minutes you should use them sparingly on people or tasks of no consequence that you have determined are not adding any value to your life or know right from the start you don’t want them to even try to add value. As I get older I don’t waste time with people or things that are not making me into a better person or hurt me. If I don’t like the way you talk to me, how you treat me or even how you smell I will cut you off and walk away. It can be something big or something small, but it will certainly dictate what type of access you are granted. Time keeps on ticking and you don’t have a moment to waste. When you think back over your life wouldn’t you want to know that you spent more time doing meaningful things then passing the time on meaningless tasks or with meaningless people? I don’t want to have regrets so I pass on the mediocre and mundane. I am past the phase of socializing with men simply for entertainment purposes. Plus I have real friends and associates that I like to spend time with. I will admit that I still have place holders, but those are a necessity and they have proven themselves to be value adders. Simply put time is my most valuable resource and I don’t have time to squander it away.

I don’t think anything I said was inappropriate and I was polite. Plus I don’t think church is the pick up spot. I’m not going to respond positively when I’m trying to praise the Lord and you’re trying to push up.  At least let me get to the lobby before you roll up on me.

What is the protocol…

Today while surfing the waves on the world wide web I stumbled across some interesting, but d@mning information. I heart facebook, but on today I think it’s the devil. Well maybe in a good way, but the devil none the less.


I reconnected with an old childhood friend via facebook. He sent a friend request and I was happy to confirm him. He sent me the customary what’s up and how you doing note. We sent notes back and forth for a few weeks catching up and reminiscing. One day while I was online he im’ed me and asked me to dinner. I said sure just let me know when. He inquired what I was doing that evening, but I was busy so we settled on going out the following Tuesday. We met at 6 and didn’t leave til 11:30 when the restaurant kicked us out because they were closing.


Since our dinner, we’ve had lunches, brunch, more dinners, went to the bookstore, went to mood music, to target and hallmark to pick out birthday cards, basically “kicked it”. There have been no discussions about anything serious and I’m totally fine with this. He’s a cool friend, different from a girlfriend because occasionally he puts his arm on my shoulder or I hold his arm. There are no titles. It’s light and free. I don’t even know what title I would give him or that he deserves anything more than buddy.


Last night he came over. We talked, played boggle, watched Toddlers and Tiaras and the Real Housewives of New York. When he left we did our customary hug and kiss. The kiss can be described as a three second peck on the mouth or forehead. We aren’t tongueing each other down, but he doesn’t kiss me on my cheek like his grandma. Last night he kissed me on the mouth.


I like to click on my friends then scroll through the status updates. His caught my attention so I went to his page. I’ve only been on his page maybe two other times. I’m scrolling down the page when I see something very interesting. His relationship status has changed. It says in a relationship. Hmmm? When I initially checked out his page and on my other visits his status was single. Hmmm? Are we together? Not likely.


I dig deeper into the page for clues. Most of his comments are from guys and the one’s from girls we know mutually and aren’t available. His last two status updates have brought a large number of comments, but nothing in relation to what I’m looking for. He’s been tagged in some photos so I decide to peruse. The first set of pics are from a conference he attended. Boring. The second set of pictures are from a house party. Just lots of people posing. Nothing. I look at the page again. Hmmm? I scroll back down to the bottom of the screen and click to see additional comments. The first thing on the page are more tagged photos. I click the set that look like they are from a birthday party. Aah and the plot quickly thickens! He is in what I like to call a couple photo with a girl, no one but them smiling, heads tilted together and looking happy. What’s more is that people have commented on the pic. The first comment says “Awww what a cute couple!!! Invite me to the wedding.” The last comment says “You guys are so cute together, but you make me want to gag.” Hmmm.  


I do long for the good old days! Before you had to wait for the grapevine to get back to you on details of a relationship or a man to be honest, but what do I do with this instaneous information regarding his relationship status?


My first question is when did his status change? Did his status change this morning to in a relationship? The pictures are from this past Saturday, so even if he declared his love this morning, the pictures paint a ‘he was booed up over the weekend’ scenario. Hmmm. That is a bad question because when it occurred doesn’t matter. What was his in a relationship self doing at my house last night. I’m upset, not so much about our situation, but why he would be laid up on my couch with his head on my hip if he has a girl? Our involvement is very innocent, but I do think kissing me on the mouth and lounging on me are inappropriate if he has a lady. My second question is why didn’t he tell me? We have had discussions about the perfect lady and what he wanted, so why didn’t he tell me he met her? And decided to be with her?


I want to leave a comment about our evening, but that seems so childish. I’m grown and whatever is to be said, I should say directly to him. Plus I’m not good at the sly innuendo nor at being coquettish in written short form. However, I feel bad. Am I home wrecker, mistress? I know the answer is No, but this situation is ridiculous. How old are we? Really, Is he serious? I have some words for him, but then I am not sure exactly what words those should be. We aren’t together so those words shouldn’t start with “how could you” or “Harpo, who dis woman?” Do I say something? Hmmm. Should I just let it go and let the silence be my I am not participating in foolishness, now go live happily ever after response? Is whatever explanation he has going to be sufficient or make me feel better? Probably not.


Still I don’t know what to do in this situation. What is the protocol when you discover information via facebook?


Facebook is the devil!

The Escalator…

There is definitely an automatic reflex for self preservation. You will do whatever you have to do to protect yourself from harm and danger.  I’m quite clumsy so I’m always relieved when my little angels have protected me once again from myself. I am happy to be alive and healthy, but have you ever almost fell, slipped, or been hit and thought “I should have let it happen”??? I hope not, but this is a story of a naughty, ungrateful little girl who did…

I went to the mall today. I wanted to get a little shopping done, pick out a way to go prize for a friend who just bought a house and some mascara. Lancome has this vibrating wand that I wanted to inspect, not necessarily try. I don’t wear contacts simply because I don’t like too much action in that area, so I could just imagine the trauma caused my a vibrating stick millimeters from my eyeball. I also need some more Dior Show and word on the street is they have a blacker version called black out. It is supposed to find  and define every single eye lash so I need to try it. Mascara and Lip gloss can make such a difference and are all you need to wow the crowds. Anyway to the point. I found a cute little house warming card/gift, but decided to take a detour through the dresses before I made my way to the cosmetic counters. 

After I looked at the dresses, I got on the escalator to go down. I stepped on the escalator and looked down at my cuticles on my left hand, I was so engrossed in my cuticles that I didn’t hold the hand rail.  My cell buzzed and I went to open my phone, at that very moment the escalator stopped abruptly.  I was on the right side of the escalator, so I reached out for the rail with my right hand which was also holding my cell phone, but my cell kept me from getting a good grip. Although the escalator had stopped, the momentum of going forward hadn’t left me.  I felt myself falling forward. There were two sets of older, gray-haired ladies in front of me, so I  desparately wanted to keep from tumbling down the escalator. I couldn’t help but think I would be alright, but if they broke something eh’ who knew. I grabbed at the left rail and luckily I was able to keep myself from tumbling down the rest of the way. My heart was beating out of it’s cavity and the adrenalin was still pumping. I hate when that happens I always have heart burn afterwards. 

Everyone was fine, a little shaken up, but just fine. I walked the rest of the way down, and the whole way down I’m thinking thank you Lord.  When my feet touched the ground and I was safe, my tune immediately changed. I was thinking wait a minute. Why didn’t I just fall? I’m in a major department store in an upscale mall and the escalator just stopped. I didn’t ignore a sign, walk through some orange cones or unintentionally run into something. I could have just fallen down the escalator and been paid. I know so wrong, because I could have also done irrepairable damage, but hey I’m sharing how I felt. I’m being honest.

Is that you God? It’s me UK…

I’m sitting on my couch in the dark. I can’t believe it, but it’s snowing outside.  Looks just like a snow globe. Beautiful. This abnormal weather has affected my electricity. My power always seems to go out during storms and I guess this fluffy snow qualifies as a storm. It’s been about two hours since my lights flickered on and off and then everything went out. I know Ga.P is working on it. Whenever anything happens in my neighborhood the clean up and repair happens quickly. However, they aren’t working fast enough for me.

I have some where to be in about an hour and a half and it doesn’t seem like my power wants to cooperate. I’m going to a sporting event and I would like to be presentable, not unironed and disheveled looking. The ideal is to be freshly showered, powedered, rouged, perfumed and perfectly primped. I have one option that is convenient. It’s close proximity will allow me exactly enough time to get over there and get ready with time to spare. It is a bad option, but it is an option and I think today is the day to exercise it.

My option stays right up the street from me, about four minutes away. I’m quite positive his power is on. The question: Is he home? The second question: Will he let me use his home to get ready? I know that I shouldn’t reach out to him, but my mind immediately went to him about midtext to my girl that I would  be late to the game. I stopped, I thought wait I can go right up the street. That in itself is a problem because I truly despise myself whenever I talk to him and for very good reason. He’s a whore and he is selfish, need I say more. 

I haven’t thought of him since the day after christmas, when he texted me a belated Merry Christmas. Anybody’s birthday you can easily forget, but baby Jesus? Who forgets that? He is such an @$$ #@!%, but those are the one’s I generally find the most endearing simply because they keep things interesting and entertaining. Plus he is so conveneint, I could walk to his house if necessary.

I got up to put my clothes and toiletries in my travel bag. Pretty presumptuous, I know. I know he will let me come come over. I picked up my cell phone to call him, a text would not do in this situation. I flipped my phone open and toggled to his name. Before I could press the call button, the lights flickered back on, as well as the heat and tv. I put the phone down. A sign from God? I am going with Yes. Most Definitely. He saved me from no electricity dialing. Thank you! Good looking out.

Bah Humbug or Cupid is Stupid…

The holidays are over, but it’s the best time of year so why not bring them back up. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday…but Christmas comes in a very close second. What’s not to love about those two? Everyone wants to get together for fun, food and fellowship. People want to give you stuff and it’s not even your birthday. Ah and the food is fantastic! It is strange that there are many foods that I only get to have once a year, but I LUV them like Honey baked ham, sweet potato soufflé, egg nog, Russian tea, coconut cake and fried turkey. It’s probably for the best because no one is concerned about fat content or caloric count of anything they are cooking which makes everything tastier. I think the most significant thing that happens around the holidays is that practically everyone, including myself, is more jolly and nice during this time of year. Then I was faced with my own holiday kindness test.


Get to the point….I’m getting there…


It’s a fact, if you are a good woman you can’t get rid of men. They might not behave like you want them to or even call when you want them to, but they will always comeback. It’s on their own timetable based upon how bad they think they messed up the last go round or if they left to go chase a NO-good woman. Once they calculate the screw-up and the time necessary to cool off they will call to check-up on you, and see what’s going on. They are just trying to collect information, see if you are still mad, if you still care and to determine the competition. I am oh to familiar with this pattern. I get a few calls every month. Some calls I ignore, some calls cause me to fall out laughing, but other calls I answer. I received a check-up call the day before Christmas eve. I hadn’t heard from him since my birthday, but it’s the holidays and people get all sentimental and long for the comfort of familiar people, places and things. Plus I was in a most festive mood.



“Ursala, Ursala, Ursala!” Said with that I got a plan for you while rubbing hands together. This tone creeps me out.

“Who is this”? I have caller ID, I know the identity of most every call I answer, but I can’t help but be myself.

“It’s Sebastian.” Of course I’ve changed names to protect those who are NOT innocent.


“What’s good, how have you been?”


“That’s great. You have been on my mind. I lost my cell and I had to hunt your number down. I even called you at work. Did you leave your job?”



“It was time to go.”

“So what have you been up to?”

“A little of this, a little of that.”

“You aren’t going to make this easy are you?”

“Nope.” I wanted to say why should I, but decided to keep that to myself.

“Ursala, be nice. Isn’t this your favorite time of year.” Such a blasphemous devil, using my emotional connection to Christmas for his demented plans.

“What do you want?” I like to see what direction someone is going in before I make a move.

“Get to the point. Okay. I want to see you. I miss your pretty smile. A friend of mine is having a dinner tomorrow and I wanted you to come with me.”

“You want ME to go to a dinner party with YOU on Christmas Eve?”

“Yes!” He chuckled like a little boy who stumbled upon his dad’s collection of playboys.



I understand calling around major holidays and or a birthday. It presents a perfect excuse to call, wish someone a happy holiday and then strike up a conversation. I can go along with that and even be quite cordial. Holidays put me in a warm, fuzzy mood and I’m pretty open to anything. At least I thought so until I received his phone call.  It is one thing to call on say October 5th and invite someone to a dinner party the following day. However, it is something very different to request someone who you are border line on non-speaking terms with to accompany you to a holiday soiree. Holidays are supposed to be happy times even if you have to fake it, but it is only fair and appropriate to fake it for those I love and care about. What if he ticked me off? I have no incentive to act nice or be mature. I could end up spoiling his holiday as well as mine. I think that Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are only for family, special friends or an agreed upon significant other. Definitely not some silly little man I dated ages ago who is bored or rethinking his poor decision making. The audacity to cross such a line is bold, too bold for me. I can’t trust somebody like that or accompany them to a dinner party.


Fast forward to today…

I am minding my own business when my cell rings and I see an unidentified number. There’s a lot going in my life right now so it’s necessary to answer all calls if I am available.


“Good Afternoon, this is Ursala.”

“I like when you answer your phone all professional. You sound so sexy. What are you wearing?”

“Hello?!?” My voice went up a couple of octaves with a tinge of attitude.

“Ursala, calm down, it’s me Sebastian. I’ve missed you. Do you miss me?”

“Can’t say that I do.” A lie, but he doesn’t respect sincerity.

“I know you do, that’s why you answered the phone.” Ughhh I hate this man, he is so arrogant. I like a very cocky, confident man, borderline arrogant, but he is too extra.

“I’m having a great day please don’t spoil it for me.”

“What happened to the sweet girl I once knew?”
“She grew into a lady that doesn’t deal with @ssholes.”

“Stop it with the language. You are to pretty to use words like that.”

“I’m busy and you are using up my daytime minutes.”

“I know that deep down you love me and I care about you. I want us to spend Valentine’s day together. I want to take you out. What do you say?”



What is dude’s deal? I haven’t heard from him since December 23, 2008 and now he is on my phone asking me to spend what is supposed to be the most romantic day of the year. A day that is reserved for lovers or sweet crushes and acts of sincere love or infatuation. I am already feeling a little strange since I haven’t had a REAL valentine since 2006. I mean I’m not going to be depressed or sad on valentine’s day, nothing close to that. However, I don’t think Valentine’s day is easy for single ladies and it is wrong to play to that emotion to get a date. I think it’s just plan selfish and rude. Or is it kindness and I’m evil?

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