On my mama. On my hood. I look fly. I look good. Touch my swag. Wish you could! Walking every day is great. When that afternoon lull hits, walking gives me just enough of an energy boost to plow through the rest of my day. Rather than wasting away in front of the television or computer after work, I am productive. Some afternoons I’ll take a nap at lunch time, which gives me my second wind for the second half of my work day. And then when I get home I’ll go for a brisk evening walk with my ipod jamming and return home totally pumped up. I sleep better at night, I feel better during the day, and my life is much more organized, meaningful, and constructive. Oh, and my figure isn’t looking too shabby either. Last night I tried on three of my four bikini’s and felt confident enough to wear them to the pool next weekend while I’m in Vegas. I confess that I’m hoping to run into Daniel, though I doubt that I will. Yes, yes, I told him that I wasn’t interested in a casual relationship, which is true, but I am still interested in him. He was the perfect mixture of intelligence and… hood (for lack of a better word). He was also the perfect height and weight, and his face was beautiful. Charming and fine, such a winning combination. So why did I leave him a voicemail message telling him that it was fun and wishing him well? Because I knew I’d end up sad and hurt. He doesn’t live nearby and we weren’t talking like I thought we should. Two weeks ago he called me twice within a 2 minute time span and I didn’t pick up my phone. Then the following morning he called again at 9am saying that he was worried that I was done with him. He figured I was done because prior to those three back-to-back calls he hadn’t called me in a week and one day. He left me hanging one Thursday after a brief chat, saying “I’ll call you back.” And I waited and wondered just when he would, which is a horrible feeling – to wait and wonder. And then when we finally did speak again he said he’d call me back ten minutes into that conversation. There was no stability with him at all. He didn’t like to make promises, he said, because if he couldn’t keep them everyone would be disappointed. That was the first red flag – an inability to commit to anything, wishy-washy. Here I go talking about him again. Ugh. Weeks after I let him go, I’m still holding on and he doesn’t even know it. Anyway, he knows that I’m coming to town the 2^nd week of May but I didn’t give him exact dates so he’s probably assuming I’ll be there Friday and Saturday (if he still cares), which are typical Vegas-vacation dates. But I won’t be there Friday or Saturday. I’m coming in on Sunday. I won’t attempt to call him but I will be paying close attention to my cellphone, I’ll admit, hoping that he calls me. I’ll go on about my trip as planned and let kismet do the rest. What’s meant to happen will happen. And if he does just so happen to call me, I’ll ask to see him. I think I need to in order to get him out of my system.