Type Casting No More

I used to have a type.  Tall, skinny, and (usually) yella/red.  But in the 2000s, I don’t think I’ve dated ONE dude that has been tall and skinny.  I talked to one dude that was skinny and tall-ish when I was 27, in 2000, but that is just ONE in almost twelve years.  WTH has happened to me? 

I’ve not only branched UP (up to 6’5”)¸ I’ve branched OUT (up to 280 lbs…at 6’5”, not 5’5…let’s not get crazy).  To give perspective – in college my boyfriend was 5’9”, 145 pounds.  He was bigger than I was so…. I guess the bigger I get the bigger my men need to get.  I’ve dated a couple of “combinations”:

·        5’9”, 175 lb

·        6’4”, 255 lb

·        5’8”, 220 lb

It’s funny how the one that I lusted after the most is the one most people would question me the most about.  He’s short and 5 months pregnant (LOL) but he curls my toes just thinking about him. 

I talked about in “2 Up 2 Down” how beauty has been redefined but it wasn’t until recently – when I got called out/questioned – that I realized just how much.  It almost makes me laugh.  At least it doesn’t disturb me as much as I thought it would.  Back in the day this would NOT have happened but it’s been fun.  We’ll see where it leads me.  I’m trying to get out the game in 2012 so I gotta stay open.

People I Want to Punch in the Throat

I found this blog that you need to read, People I Want to Punch in the Throat (www.peopleiwanttopunchinthethroat.blogspot.com) and now I’m addicted.  This broad is hilarious and talks about random things…and I have not disagreed with her yet.  And I, too, want to punch these people in the throat.  I know this blog is supposed to be about the single life of a single lady, but you know, as Single Lady, and as my “real self”, I come across people I really want to punch in the throat.  This is in no particular order.

1.      People who ask me why I’m single.  Now, this is not always an inappropriate question.  It just depends on the context.  There are in fact many reasons – some of them good - I am single but, to be honest, I don’t feel like I have to explain them to everybody who asks.  What I want to say is “mind your fucking business” or ask equally offensive questions like “how did you get a man/woman?” or “will you loan me a thousand dollars?” 

2.      People who want to introduce me to people they wouldn’t date themselves.  I am single, not desperate.  I do not want a man who is 3’8”.  I do not want a man who looks like he can open a Coke can with his teeth or that he chews on rocks. I do not want a man who does not have a good grasp on the English language.  And NEITHER DO YOU!  I want to settle down but I’ll be damned if I settle after waiting this damn long.

3.      People who assume I don’t want children because I don’t have them.  Get off of my ovaries.  You don’t know what is going on in there.  Hell, neither do I.  I don’t know if my shit works…I’ve never tested it out.  And won’t you feel like shit if you’ve talked all this yang and my shit doesn’t work?  I’m not receiving that…I’m going to have a mini-me one day.  Hopefully two.  And to all who are so concerned about my uterus: can I put you down for babysitting duties?

4.      People who count my money.  This is the quickest way to get cussed out.  Don’t tell me what I can afford.  Don’t tell me I’m cheap.  You don’t know what I’m doing with my money.  You don’t know what I have planned for my money.  Matter of fact – shut the fuck up.  If you’re not giving me any money, mind your fucking business.

5.      People who tell me what I “need to do” do when I didn’t ask for an outside opinion.  I am very open…obviously.  I often ask for advice.  Very often actually.  And when I do, I analyze it, decide whether it works for me, and either take it as a whole, in part, or totally discard it.  What I don’t like is when people say “what you NEED TO DO is…” when I didn’t ask.  (I recognize that I am being a hypocrite because I often give unsolicited advice even though I try not to.)  Don’t like it at all.  I really don’t like when folks give me unsolicited advice and then get mad when I don’t take it.  I try to be patient because, like I said, I do it too, but CLAWD I don’t respond well do funky attitudes.  You might be right but if you come at me sideways I might not do it out of meanness.  (Yes, I’m 12 years old.)  Or better (or worse) yet, I might just tell you to kiss my ass.

6.      People who take my kindness for weakness.  My daddy’s side of the family is, as my cousin says, kind but not nice.  Do anything for you…but will cuss you if need be.  Folks see so much of my mama in me that they forget that I’m a Harrison.  Bad idea.  I can set it off like the rest of them.  Difference is I’ll feel a little remorse after the fact.  A little.

I’m sure there are other folks who need to be punched in the throat but these are the ones I came up with off the top of my head.  I hope you don’t think less of me.  HAHAHA!  You probably don’t because you’re nodding your head in agreement and have already come up with #7-#10 of who else needs to be on your “need to be punched in the throat” list.

Free Food Ain't Free

A coworker/buddy of mine told me something really ignorant yesterday.  Per an article her 53-year-old single sister sent her, ladies in New York are using online dating sites, like match.com, not to look for love exactly, but to supplement their food budget.  In other words, meet men and get free meals.  What the what?  Is it that crucial?  Are folks THAT broke that they would date random dudes just to get free food?

Even in college I was not into “free food”.  Now, to be fair, I was not the hot chick in college so I didn’t have lots of opportunities to decide yes or no.  Let’s just say I got better with age.  (Ignore the flashback to my Spelman days snatch-back ponytail that I am sporting today.  I will be getting my hair done tomorrow.)  I’m called Single Lady for an obvious reason but you know what I’m saying.  But I digress… I say I was not into “free food” because free food isn’t really “free”.  Sure, it may not cost you money but it is not free.  You may get to choose a place you cannot afford on your own but it’s not free.  You may get to eat an entrée that you wouldn’t select if you had to pull out your own wallet but that meal is not really free.

You pay with your time.  You pay with your energy.  You pay with your attention.  And if you don’t like the dude, the price just might be higher than the cost of the “free” food.

Well, that is what I think anyway.  Maybe I’m just not nice…or just not nice enough to spend time with somebody I don’t like and smile about it.  I can’t sit there with a dude, wishing I was somewhere – ANYWHERE – else, thinking “well, at least it’s free food”.  Before I even get to that point, I can’t get to the point where I accept a date with a dude I am not attracted to just because I can get “free food”.  (I’m still not the baddest b* out but I attract my fair share of ragamuffins.)

Am I neurotic?  Is it just not that serious?  Am I just mean and intolerant?  Probably all of that, but dammit, I go to work everyday and I will eat microwave oatmeal, cheddar cheese rice cakes, granola bars, and KFC everyday just to avoid the not-really-free-food shenanigans. 

Hermie D. Clown [Done Messed] Around...But What Does That Mean To You?

Herman Cain may have lost his seat with the big boys and girls because of women other than his wife.  Now, if the sexual harassment claims are true…well, fry his ass because that is a crime and nobody should get away with that kind of shit.  But this new broad, this “friend” that his wife didn’t know about, the one claiming the on/off affair for over a decade might just be the one to mess him up.  But should an affair –excuse me, an alleged affair – really sink a man’s professional aspirations?

Some would say yes, especially when one’s aspiration includes becoming the President of the United States, for the office of the President should evoke a sense of trustworthiness.  If a man’s wife can’t trust him, can the people in his country?  If his judgment is so clouded that he believes an affair will either 1) not be discovered or 2) not disturb his life’s status quo, can we trust his judgment in all the roles and responsibilities held by the President?  Will he do right by the country if he can’t do right by his wife?

Now, folks let JFK and Marilyn Monroe slide – have an affair that even those of us who were not even born then know about – but is that because infidelity was more the norm then?  Or is it because it wasn’t news, wasn’t reported on every news outlet every 36 minutes of every day like Herman Cain’s allegations?  JFK damn sure wasn’t on YouTube and wasn’t discussed daily on FaceBook but I can find everything I ever wanted to know about old Hermie on either.  Maybe Herman Cain needs to switch teams and go Democrat because Black folks sure got over Messy Jackson’s side piece and illegitimate kid and Bill Clinton’s cigar pretty quickly.  Me? I figured if Mrs. Jackson and Mrs. Clinton liked it, I might as well love it; I wasn’t in danger of catching anything from those dudes.  Also, Messy Jackson couldn’t lose any more respect from me...I had very little before that came out.  But that is neither here nor there.

On FaceBook a friend suggested that we’d do well in this country if we would adopt a “who cares what happens in other folks’ bedroom” attitude that other cultures seem to have.  I kind of agreed but had to counter that it would be more of at “who cares what happens in MEN’S bedrooms” because women are still not afforded the same sexual freedom as men around the globe.  Maybe if we stopped focusing on who was sleeping with whom – and how, and when, and why, and where – we could focus on a person’s talent, skills, and other offerings.  Maybe a person CAN compartmentalize…have a messy personal life and still be qualified to lead a community, corporation, or even a country.  Maybe a person CAN have two or more character profiles, that he or she can successfully transform themselves to fit whatever situation they are in.

But isn’t that what we are most afraid of?  That we are only seeing a part of what a person is.  That we will never really know who a person really is.  That we only know what a person wants us to know, see what a person wants us to see.  That we are missing some information that we need.  That we might be doing the same thing in our relationships.

I am afraid I can skillfully compartmentalize when I am not being careful and vigilant.  That I can present what I want a person to see, especially if I am ashamed of a part of myself…at least until I have been given permission, per se, to freely share without fear of judgment or retribution.  But I work hard – HARD, I say – at it.  I make myself uncomfortable sometimes to be open and honest.  Even writing THIS is sometimes painful to me but I promised myself and YOU that I’d be transparent.  Sometimes I may fail even when I am clear on what I think and what I feel.  But I promise to keep working. 

And working.

And working.

Need a Daddy

I like to say that I’m spoiled – and lots of folks will agree – but the truth is, I’m really just well-loved.  Sure I got most of what I asked for but what most people don’t realize is that I didn’t ask for most of what I wanted.  Even as a child I understood the concept of “needs vs. wants” and I knew not to take advantage.  But like I said – few people would know that…until now, since I’m putting it out there for everyone to read and know.

My father is the guilty party in all of this, if you have any question.  I don’t know if it’s because I look like him with a wig or if it’s because he just loves his first born or if that’s just how daddies are with their girls – and I don’t care WHY – but he very seldom told me no.  Excuse me, very seldom TELLS me no.  I’ve grown very accustomed to having my needs met by my father when they are presented to him.  The difference now, though, is that those needs are emotional, not financial or material and, as before, it takes a lot for me to even present my needs to him.  And the only WANT I even present is his presence.  Even grown women want to spend one-on-one time with their daddies…even if we’re silent.  Sometimes, like TODAY, I just want to be where he is for no other reason than because he is there.

You know I’m struggling with the “should I/shouldn’t I” with respect to having a baby.  (Side note: This is all assuming the option I have right now stays viable.  If it disappears this conversation becomes moot.)  Of course I’m afraid of being alone but I’m even more afraid of my child not having a father like mine…or not having a father at all.  (Again – this would be HIS decision, not mine, because my “option” is one that I want around forever…once we work some things out.)

I have so many ideas of what a father is and does. I’m sure one man might not have it ALL but don’t mess with my fantasy, okay.

·        Sincerely offers to rub my swollen feet…and I might break my “don’t touch my feet” rule if they hurt bad enough

·        Tells me “It’s okay, you already have a mini-me” when the baby doesn’t look like me (which just better NOT happen)

·        Takes us to church

·        Is there clapping and holding his arms out (or holding the video camera) with the baby takes his or her first unsteady steps

·        Is there when the baby has a bad dream

·        Helps with the poo diapers (how about takes ALL the poo diapers…no? Damn.)

·        Tells me that it will be all right when I get nervous every third day (because I will)

·        Teaches our son and daughter to hit the baseball.  (I can teach the throw and catch…but not the hitting…ask Daddy.)

·        Sits through our daughter’s dance class (…reading the paper if he has to, that’s allowed)

·        Reads bedtime stories

·        Listens to prayers

·        Tells the baby that big girls and big boys sleep in their own beds so they will get out of our room

·        Takes our daughter on her first date

·        Teaches our son how to open doors and pull out chairs for ladies

·        Is the first man to tell our daughter that she is beautiful

·        Teaches our son a firm handshake

·        Makes sure our daughter knows what Pookie and Ray-Ray REALLY have on their minds!!!!

·        Teaches them how to drive (have you seen me drive?)

·        Sits with me at the piano, violin, dance, trumpet, tuba, band, etc. recital and clap loudly even if it is terrible

·        Teaches our son to tie a tie (especially a bow tie)

·        Tells our son to suck it up when he gets hazed for the frat (I mean, gets words of encouragement from the frat…Because Deltas don’t haze I won’t have to do this for my daughter. /straight face/)

·        Says “rub some dirt on it and get back in the game” when the kids get hurt (not bad) playing sports (while I’m having the panic attack…forgetting that I also used to get hurt and lived through it)

·        Can and will do everything I can and will do in the rearing of our children

I don’t know if Daddy did all this stuff but I know he did enough of it for me to know how much he loved me and that he was a REAL father.  I cannot deprive my child of this kind of love, security, and influence.  Not if I can help it.

Two Up, Two Down - I Think It's Some Bullshit

Note:  My last piece, Waiting to Exhale, was kind of deep and caught one of my faithful readers off guard.  So I decided to lighten it up again to give yall a break from the angst.  That piece was hard to write, though.  I felt every word when I wrote it and I feel them every time I re-read them…and they hurt.  This one, though, tickles me so hopefully you will get a few laughs.

Have you heard of the “two up, two down” rule for who you are eligible to date?  That means you can date people who are two up or two down from whatever hotness “rating” you are.  For example, if you are an 8 your range is 6 to 10.  Sounds pretty good, except… what if you don’t want to go down?

I’m a solid 7.  I’m cute on the regular day but I can go from scruffy to stunner when I “clean up”.  I have a nice smile and fantastic legs.  I’ve even been called mesmerizing.  (Lame line but I blushed…a sister loves a compliment!) So yeah, I can confidently rate myself as a 7.  But I don’t want a brother that’s a 5.  Why should I have to settle for one just because someone came up with this stupid rule?

I mean, I can understand the rule.  It keeps people grounded in reality and SHOULD keep folks from getting their feelings hurt.  A 3 should not be trying to holler at a dime, expecting a favorable result. (Why is it always the dude hollering at the girl that is out his league and not the other way around?  Maybe it’s because girls don’t tell about when they get shot down.  We have more discretion…and pride.)  I understand the concept of “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”.  Some folks might not rate me as high as I do.  Hell, I’m just learning to value my-damn-self.  I’ve undervalued myself for so long it’s been a struggle to see myself for who and what I really am.  (That’s for another day.)  But if I think a dude is a 5 – and that’s bad because I am generally very generous – he doesn’t have a shot.  YOU might think my man is a 5 but I don’t care.  As long as I think he’s at least a 5.5 (smile) he’s in there.   I want a dude that I WANT…you know what I’m saying without me having to say it?  I mean, I want to think about his smile and smile.  I want to think about his eyes and remember how it feels when he looks at me.  I want to think about his arms and feel his hugs even when he’s not there.  I want the mere thought of his hands to conjure up memories of his caresses on my face.  I want to think about his ass sometimes, too, and think how nicely it fits into my hands…kind of like a double cheeseburger.  I do NOT want to think “he is all right…I just have to move his stomach over to get to it.”  #ijustthrewupinmymouth.  Again, beauty is in the eye of the beholder but dammit, I want to behold the kind of beauty that is beautiful to ME.  (I used to have a type but I haven’t dated a tall and skinny man in the 2000s so clearly beauty has been redefined.)

Am I shallow?  Maybe but so are you.  Quit playing…you don’t want a knuckle dragger either.  Hell, I know that some dudes might not be mesmerized by me so they pass me by.  Their loss.  I’m a good woman.  Go ahead and say it:  An average dude might be a good dude.   Yes, I might be missing out.  I think every single, solitary one of us has missed out on somebody that could have made us happy.  I think if we are honest, there is somebody we think about from the past.  But trust and believe, I don’t long for the 5.

(While I’m sitting her bullshitting, I need to be sending an email to the one who makes me smile when I think of his smile…you didn’t think I just came up with that, do you?  I had somebody in mind!  HE needs to quit tripping before I’M the one that got away….)

Waiting to Exhale

“I thought if I gave him what he needed, he’d give me what I needed.” (Bernadine)

I remember that line so clearly from the movie Waiting to Exhale.  It resonated with me.  Just now I felt it in my spirit…and it hurt.  Why?  Because I have thought that if I gave him what he needed, he’d give me what I needed.

I’m sure I’m not the only one but I’m just going to tell you about me.

When I think of all the stupid situations I’ve dealt with, only one fills me with the kind of regret that chokes me from the inside.  The kind that takes my breath away and causes my heart to beat funny, but not in the good way.  Because I thought if I gave him what he needed, he’d give me what I needed.

The problems with that are plentiful:

·        I didn’t ask him what he needed. I just thought I knew.

·        I didn’t ask him if he wanted ME to give him what I thought he needed.

·        I never told him what I needed.

·        He never agreed to give me what I needed.

The key is that he never agreed to give me what I needed.  I just assumed that if I Loved him hard enough he’d Love me back and want to give me what I needed.  Until that point I’d Love enough for both of us.

Wrong.  Nobody has enough love to love for two people.  Ever.  But you couldn’t have told me that.

(Inhaling.)

He is now married to someone else and I don’t really wish him well.  Sorry, I’m not that evolved.  (My chest hurts right now.)  He represents every bit of stupidity that I have done and allowed all wrapped up in a black lace bow.  He represents some of the most pain I have ever felt, even if I never said so.  He represents the biggest feeling of desperation I have ever felt; I actually wanted to call it off but didn’t because I had invested so much and it had to work out…right?

(Holding my breath.)

Years later, after self-reflection, I realize that I must not have Loved him because I don’t have any warm feelings for him left at all.  I never want to see him again.  I never want to hear from him again.  I don’t want any reminders of him.  I don’t wish him physical harm but that is about it.

I guess pain turns to bitterness – ANGER – sometimes, doesn’t it?  This anger is at myself…him too…but mostly me.  Thank God I know better now.  Let’s hope I put it in practice.

(Exhaling.)