"Life is a fact" - Breakfast at Tiffany's

After an exciting seafood dinner at The Boiling Crab, I brought in the new year watching Breakfast at Tiffany's.  The first and only other time I'd watched it I didn't give it a chance but now I see why it is a cult favorite.  I never realized until now that Fred/Paul was a prostitute who had published one book years prior to meeting Holly Golightly, and hadn't found his muse until they met.  If you haven't seen it, check it out. I hear it's a classic.
So The Boiling Crab was an interesting mess.  Literally.  We ordered a dozen raw oysters, two pounds of snow crab legs, gumbo, and a pound of shrimp, all swimming in separate bags of messy, greasy sauce & seasoning - garlic flavored, lemon pepper flavored, and "The Whole Shebang" flavored.  My hands were an absolute mess when I finished, but I managed to keep my clothes out of it, thankfully.

I was very comfortable and content when 2012 finally arrived, in pajama's fresh from the dryer, clean sheets and pillow cases on my bed, fluffy pillows, and a chilled bottle of apple cider on my nite stand.  Oh, and a few Ghirardelli peppermint chocolate squares to go with it.  It was the perfect way to say goodbye to the year and begin anew.  

Not-so-great Gatsby’s

So another eager candidate joined The Dating Game. We’ll call him ‘Lanky guy’. He’s 39, 6’4, slim, an educator of special needs children, lives about 10 minutes away from me in the hood section of my city, is into holistic medicine, went to school in DC (he keeps mentioning that), no children, weird sense of humor, likes camping and hiking, collects records, calls himself a DJ but he doesn’t do any dj’ing and I’m not sure he ever did, he says he only likes rap music, and that’s all I knew as of Monday night. After our initial conversation in which he did the majority of the talking about everything under the moon, before I hung up he said he’d be thinking about me. That made me pause. He asked me to call him when I could. I said I’d call him after work the following day. He asked what time I got off. I told him that I should be home by 5pm. When the clock struck 7pm, and I hadn’t called him, he called me. This is after sending me two emails and a text message earlier in the day. Anxious, huh? Now, as per usual, I was slightly optimistic yet still cautious, wondering what was wrong with him. As it turns out, his issues are: he’s 39, which isn’t really an issue except he’s never been in a relationship that lasted longer than 1 year. He’s still single, no children, no prospects, has done practically nothing with his life, has lots of debt, is terribly indecisive, has “man baggage” (his ex-girlfriend wouldn’t commit after 5 years of booty calls and he couldn’t understand why) he’s lonely, sad, and is looking to be saved by marriage. Oh, and he seemed to freak out when I told him that I was once in a long-term relationship that produced a now 17 year old, college-bound son. I have no idea why that last tidbit seems to turn older men off. Do they feel threatened? Do they think it ruins their chances of procreating with me, as if I’m tarnished goods, as if their boys can still swim and are still healthy? I don’t get it and find it quite delusional and presumptuous. My nest will be empty in less than a year and will remain that way because my uterus has been placed in retirement. Now, whenever I tell them that little whammy, for some reason they’re not entirely turned off. They behave as if I’m joking and that they have the power to force my girl out of retirement. Silly birds, haven’t they heard of birth control? And the nerve of them assuming that I’d even let them anywhere near her. Men and their enormous egos are the bane of the entire world. So never mind who I am and what I dream about, he can’t see me for admiring himself. Forget what I’ve done and what I’m working on, it’s inconsequential to what I look like and what he imagines me being to him. The morning after our very first conversation where, remember, he did most of the talking about himself, he seemed giddy with excitement over the prospect of developing a relationship with me, someone he knew absolutely nothing about aside from what I looked and sounded like and the way I interacted with him on the telephone. (Kind of reminded me of the crazy 'Marry me' guy who asked me to marry him three times in one month after meeting.) He said “I’ll be thinking about you” with a giggle and a smile in his voice, before I promised him that I’d call him after work. But from the moment that I told him about my long term relationship, which I’ve now been out of for many years, and my teenage son, I could hear the enthusiasm draining from his voice. I could tell by his conversation that his excitement had waned, lol. Funny how that happens. I think he’s the third guy I’ve dated so far to do this. The other two were ‘African guy’ and ‘Skeevy Club guy,’ who happened to have two young children of his own. So if it’s not one thing, it’s a few others. Thankfully, I’ve weeded through them rather quickly and didn’t waste a lot of precious time. What I do waste time doing, however, is longing. Part of me wants to harden my heart and no longer care so that I can get on with other things without distraction, but I know that to live without romantic love is not living a full life. It is almost tortuous wondering and waiting and wanting. I throw myself into projects and for a while I am sufficiently distracted, but never for long. Maybe one of these days I will get better at distracting myself and forget what it feels like to be in a relationship. I don’t know whether that’d be good or awful. One thing I can say is that I do thoroughly enjoy living alone and having the freedom to do whatever I please. I don’t want to change that. When Lanky guy wanted me to call him back, it felt like a nagging chore. I knew I’d promised to call him but I really didn’t feel like it. There were at least 5 other things I wanted to do instead of talk to him. That should have been my cue that I wasn’t that into him and would be wasting my time trying to make something out of nothing. Maybe if I keep that in mind for next time, I’ll weed through guys quicker. Welp, the good thing is I’m learning a lot about myself. This is growth :)

Love; I miss it.  I dream about it all the time, day and night. Last night I dreamt that the artist guy was dating a friend of mines. I really have to stay off Facebook before going to bed. In the dream, he was dating her but it wasn’t clear that he actually liked her. It seemed more like an arrangement of some sort and she paid for everything while he seemed indifferent about the whole affair. Towards the end of the dream I was racing to the salon for my hair appointment with the hope that me having a fancy new hairdo might get his attention and turn him back my way. As if he ever really was digging me in the first place. Dreams are so silly.  Well, mine are at least.  Anyway, I miss romance and intimacy and, honestly, I miss the idea of sex more than I do the actual act. Where sex is concerned, it’s been my experience that my fantasies are often much better than my realities.  I’d say my sex life over the past 20 years has been 45% wow.  But my fantasies? WOW! I have one hell of an imagination!  It’s the intimacy of sex that makes it great, not so much the physical act, in my opinion.  

So yeah, I'm missing love again.  This poem by one of my favorite authors sums it up perfectly:

“Love entered in my heart one day 
A sad, unwelcome guest. 
But when it begged that it might stay 
I let it stay and rest 

It broke my nights with sorrowing 
It filled my heart with fears 
And, when my soul was prone to sing, 
It filled my eyes with tears. 

But...now that it has gone its way, 
I miss the dear ole pain. 
And, sometimes, in the night I pray 
That Love might come again.” 
― J. California Cooper

When I pulled into my driveway last night, I saw a baby possum run into my backyard. since that crazy windstorm about a week ago, I haven't had the time or energy to really clean my yard the way I should, and so now it seems I have some unwanted neighbors - a family of possums. Yuck. There are leaves, tree branches and other debris all over the neighborhood, still, and I'm worried that if the city doesn't come and pick it all up soon, even more rodents will move in. I cringe at the thought. Time, I wish I could buy it. I wish I could manage it better. It's more valuable than money. If I had more time I would be in much better physical shape, which would presumably give me more energy to do all of my chores as well as the things I want to do for recreation, and I'd complain less about not being able to fit everything in. I'd be less stressed and there wouldn't be a family of possums in my backyard.

The meaning of Christmas

Every year around this time I hear the belly aching, the complaints, the bah-humbugs about Christmas and how commercialized it has become, and I wonder why so many otherwise smart people allow others to dictate what this holiday means to them. (Not too long ago, I had a case of the bah-humbugs myself) Christmas means different things to different people, obviously. As for me and mine, gifts have never outshined our love for one another. Every year we watch the decorations go up around town, put up some of our own at home, revel in the warm spirits all around, and get excited about coming together as a family to celebrate our love for one another and the blessings the year has bestowed upon us. Not many make it to the end of the year, or feel they have much to celebrate. But if you have breath in your lungs, it is my humble opinion that you, too, have something worth celebrating - the hope for better days, the chance to live the life you’ve always dreamed of, or one even better than you’ve imagined, for starters. Yes, family and love and life should be celebrated all year long, theoretically, but how many of us in this day and age regularly take the time out of our hustle and bustle lifestyles to stop and celebrate our families and friends and the love we share? How often do we stop and spend an entire day together, and sometimes an entire month, giving thanks for our blessings, safety, and fortunes? And where’s the harm in doing it in December? It’s a huge celebration of life and love. For some it’s the celebration of the life and love of Christ, but for many, whether they know it or not, it is the celebration of our own lives and loved ones. And if you’re at all religious you’ve likely heard that Christ loved us so much he died for us to live. And even if you aren’t religious at all, you’d have to have a pretty cold heart not to feel the joy and hope in the hearts of your fellow man, woman, and child during Christmastime. It’s infectious, love is. So resist the urge to be an Ebenezer Scrooge and give in to love, and give a little shout about your life and hope, and the lives and well-being of others. It bodes no one well to focus on negativity when positivity moves you forward, lifts you up, and benefits us all. Christmas is the one time of year when everyone has an excuse to be good and giving ;) And if you don’t have a family in the traditional sense to spend it with, create your own. Serve in a soup kitchen, give to the less fortunate, volunteer, invite friends over or invite yourself to a friends’ house. If you know me, meaning we’ve at least spoken at length before, consider this your invitation to spend Christmas with me and my family. I promise, there will be no shortage of entertainment and love, lol.

One of the best Christmases of my life was spent in Hawaii with my son in 2009.  It was just the two of us, no tree, no gifts, just us and it was absolutely great. Then we flew home and ended up spending Christmas day at my ex’s sisters house with all of his siblings, nieces, and nephew's, both of his parents, and a handful of cousins.  Still no gifts, just good food, laughter and love.

What’s wrong with him?

It’s sad that these days the first question that enters my mind when I’m attracted to a man is “what’s wrong with him?” There’s always something but will it be something I can live with or that I have to live without? The last three guys I was attracted to all had problems I couldn’t bring myself to ignore. One smokes weed, can’t spell, is passionately Christian, yet doesn’t attend church (how the… hell? Lol), still lives with his mother, thinks he has haters, and believes that the US is being run by the UK, among other things. Another one is a patsy for his older brother, thinks way too highly of himself because he went to FAMU, said he’d never listen to another MJ song or support the Jackson family again because Conrad Murray was “wrongfully” charged with his death, claims that there are black people and “n*ggas” and that he is the former, said JLo is “officially” putting her career before a man because she performed at the last awards show (huh?), and is basically an idiot who doesn’t know he’s an idiot. A third one is a highly judgmental, issue-laden, passive-aggressive, stalker asshole (hi! :)). Island boy is a homophobe, doesn’t go down, said vagina reminds him of the predator unmasked, doesn’t see anything wrong with having lots of children that a) he is not in a position to take care of financially, b) all have different mothers, and c) he does not live with or see regularly. He is also cheap, and a huge liar. I could go on but it doesn’t get any better. All signs are pointing towards me being single and sexless for a long time. One of my good friends has been single and sexless for over 28 years. She just recently landed her first boyfriend ever and is ecstatic. Talk about patience and holding strong to your convictions! She inspires me and I’m thrilled for her but the pessimist in me is still leery. She knows I love her though so I’ll gladly be the one of us that worries while she basks in the joy of couple-dom. Meanwhile, I’m sewing, attending classes, working on my house, traveling, paying for Netflix and Direct TV, and hanging out with platonic friends and family, hoping that someday soon I can live with somebody’s imperfections. And honestly, I’d settle for two out of the four above losers as non-live-in boyfriends :( Which two? Does it really even matter? Le sigh.