Death is busier than you may think

I went to visit two old friends today. One I grew up with but haven't seen in about 10 years, the other's son and my son went to preschool together and I hadn't seen her for about 7 years. Turns out, they've known each other almost as long as I've known them individually. It is truly a small world. We connected via good ol' Facebook and decided to get together and catch up over lunch today.

So we ask each other the typical stuff - how's your mom, kids, granny, dog, cat, etc.

And during our conversation at friend #1's house she mentions that her little cousin, we'll call her Keisha, had a baby by a guy I used to date. We'll call him Troy.

Of course, I'm shocked. I didn't even know Troy was still around. But them having a baby together wasn't nearly the most shocking part. Troy gave Keisha HIV...and their 6 year old son has it too.

My friend proceeded to divulge all the sordid details as she drove us to Red Robbin for lunch. Keisha has tried to commit suicide twice that they know of. The first time she sat in garbage before trying to hang herself, saying that she was nothing but trash and was going to die anyway. My friend was at the apartment that she shares with Troy, trying to talk her out of it. Meanwhile, he was ironing his clothes for a date. That time, Keisha only ended up with bruises around her neck from her makeshift noose. The 2nd time she almost succeeded by drinking a bunch of cough syrup and taking a bottle of sleeping pills. When they took her to the hospital they discovered that her rectum was ripped from having rough anal sex with him. She won't leave him because she doesn't think anyone else will want her. But he's out there actively dating!

Back when he tried to get with me I went on one date with him and knew immediately that I didn't want to continue seeing him. He's not an unattractive man but his ego is humongous and he's not that bright, among other things. He made it really easy for me to lose his number. Then, I remember running into him at a liquor store on Crenshaw and Florence with a couple of my then girlfriends, and one of them was swooning big time over him and his Acura Legend. She told me that I was a fool for not pursuing a relationship with him. smh

According to my girlfriend, he maintains a relationship with the mother of his two oldest kids who happens to be a prostitute, and that's where they think he may have contracted the disease.

After Keisha's second attempt at suicide they committed her to a mental institution for a spell but she's out now and back with him and her son. He recently beat her up because her cousin, my friends' brother, posted on his Facebook page that he had AIDS.

All of this fucked me up, naturally. I was damn near crying listening to her. It's just too surreal. At the same time it made me glad that I've been listening to my first mind all these years and not second-guessing myself or listening to others and settling for what they think is good enough. I feel so fortunate for my drama-free, slow-paced, single lifestyle.

After lunch I also learned that a very popular guy that we knew died in a motorcycle accident and another one has been crowned king of the strippers at a very popular strip club. This guy was like my little brother in high school and now he's a buffed up, gyrating stripper king. Amazing. Another friend of ours hired him to perform at a naughty girl novelty party that she's throwing this month. I wonder if he'll remember me. This should be funny.

Central Avenue and Beyond/RIP Mayme Clayton

During the 1920s and 30s, the Harlem Renaissance saw a flourishing of African American literature, art, music, and social commentary. Scores of gifted black composers, artists, and writers, including many who had fled the racism of the South, moved to Harlem and other cities across the nation. And even, especially, to Paris (i.e., Josephine Baker). In Los Angeles, a vibrant scene of jazz clubs, literary societies, and concert venues sprung up around Central Aveneu, a main artery that run's through the heart of South LA (think Devil in a Blue Dress starring Denzel Washington).

The late Mayme Clayton spent much of her life collecting pieces of this black history... and storing it away in a tiny garage behind her house (http://articles.latimes.com/2006/oct/21/local/me-clayton21). Her extensive collection is believed to be the largest personal collection of black history ever, and is now being displayed in a museum named in her honor. The Huntington Museum in Pasadena borrowed a handful of items that had never before been publicly displayed and I got to see them before the Clayton Museum opened its doors (I think they're open now. It's in Culver City, CA) I didn't want to leave the museum that day :)

I wasn't supposed to take pictures of this exhibit so I didn't get many but check it out (Edit: I have to fix these pics because for some reason the links are working. Sorry):

Back from the date!

Just put on my pajama's as a matter of fact, lol. I'm typing this entry now, while it's still fresh in my head. Okay, so, after a little convincing from my mom and cousin, I decided to wear my trusty pink dress. Now this dress knocks em DEAD, no lie. It gives me curves I didn't even know I had and every single time I wear it, I get loads of compliments and stares.

Anyway, so I rushed home from work and into the house to shower and get ready, when my cell phone rings. It's only 4:45. Our date is at 7. Why is he calling me? To make sure I'm still coming I tell him that I am and that I'll see him at 7. Then I asked him if he'd made a reservation. Doh! he hadn't and he sounded embarrassed about it. But I had, anticipating such a mishap. No worries. I hung up and finished getting dolled up.

I got there early so that I could see him walk in, check out his gear and ass and all that. Long story short, he was late but eventually found the place. And after talking my ear off last night on the phone, he was remarkably silent at the table.

When he arrived, I stood up to greet him and he looked me up and down, smiling like a cheshire cat (that pink dress is KILLER). I hugged him and then sat back down.

So then the ghetto came out. Ugh. He's lacking on class and kept the little waiters running around. allegedly to earn their tip :/
Okay, so then my moment came - it was time to order. He kept hinting about the Dragon Rice with scallops but nah, son. I did not drive all the way to Beverly Hills for no rice and baby scallops. I'd asked him if he'd been there before and he said no, but that he'd looked up the menu online. Okay, bet! that let me know that HE knew that place wasn't cheap, and that anything on the menu was okay, right? nothing off limits.
Wrong. He was playing games but I wasn't, lol. I ordered the lobster, which was the same price as the Dungeness crab - $45. I guess he was hoping I would order something cheaper. He shouldn't have chosen that restaurant then. There was no way I was ordering some old run of the mill scallops at a place like that. Sorry. When our food came, I asked him if he wanted to try mines and he did. But I got the sneaking suspicion that he was a little salty over me ordering that, lmao. He commented twice, on some "I hope you enjoyed that lobster," or "they aint playing with that lobster, are they?"

Nope! I ate it with a smile. Dude, you're 45, surely you've been on a few dates and know how this shit works by now. It's not like I didn't give him an out with the other restaurant suggestions.

ANYWHOOO, during the course of our conversation I learned that he didn't know what euthanized meant and he didn't know how to pay a dinner bill.
"Do we get up and go pay it up front or what?"
Um, no. You sit your ass there, ask the waiter for the bill, slip your card in the little slot at the top, and add the tip when they bring you the receipt. I really had to show him where to put his credit card. And he included his ID. Now maybe it's just me, but I thought that was strange. I have never included my ID. But whatever.

Oh, and when he was lost trying to find the restaurant he called me asking me how to get there so I had one of the waiters attempt to give him directions. Well, when the sweet latino waiter gave me the phone back my date goes "Don't worry about it. I'll find it. Dude can't even TALK English so he can't help me." Is this too much? Am I being a snob? I smiled all night tho and i tried to make small talk but his eyes were either fixated on my cleavage, or trying hard not to be. I could tell, lol. It was so obvious. But I was easy like Sunday morning at that point because I'd begun eating my delicious lobster (I shoulda got the crab tho).

Dude is alright in my book. He loved The Dress and I know he was checking out my ass every time I walked ahead of him. No prob. That's why I wore that mug. Check it oooout! So then we left, he walked me to my car, I hugged him and kissed his cheek and then I warmed up my car while he left to his, which was across the street. I had parked on a dental office lot down the alley a little ways so I couldn't see him on the street. That is, until 10 minutes later when I pulled out of the alley. he should've been LONG gone but he was sitting there, lit up like a Christmas tree in that Mercedes. Headlights on, light on inside the car so I could see him, engine running. Yeah, alright. So I went home with my doggy bag of viddles feeling like a million bucks. The Verdict: he is definitely not The One, but he'll do for now. He didn't come remotely close to sweeping me off my feet with his lack of conversation and rude demeanor towards the wait staff. Plus, he could've at least played it cool when I ordered the lobster. What the hell was he expecting? I told him we could go to Red Lobster. haha.

Roasted Dungeness Crab...yuuuuummmmm

So I gave new guy 3 restaurant suggestions - 1.) the most expensive joint, 2.) the semi expensive joint, and 3) the expensive joint 20 minutes away from him. And then, as a last resort- if-all-else-fails option, I threw in that we could always just find a Red Lobster nearby. This was via text message during working hours.

And he chose suggestion #1, the most expensive joint! Then he tried to test me, lol. He texted back "The (insert name of most expensive joint here) sounds good. But isn't that a little far from you?"

To which your girl replied: "Not really. It's about 25 minutes from my job. But so is expensive joint #3. Semi-expensive joint is 15 minutes away. But I'm okay with any of them. My goal is to see you."

And he replied: "Good answer! I'm liking you more and more."

:) Looks like my game is coming back... and it seems to be on full tilt at the moment. HA! But I like dude. Like I said before, he IS a breath of fresh air, especially after all the shit I've seen and met since being single.

However, last night while talking to him I realized that he is a tad cocky and tells ALL of his business, which is cool because it'll keep my heart from melting and I'll remain on track with what matters most in my life. Us women tend to lose focus when we're twitterpated (if you haven't seen Bambi you won't get this reference. Sorry).

I'm looking forward to our date and getting to know him better. He seems like just what I need for the moment and I think he feels the exact same way. We both seem to be on the same page and that's really cool.

Oh, and I was all amped to give him brownie points for the restaurant selection until he alluded to how much he makes. He's not hurting at all, so this meal won't even be a smudge on his wallet. But it still counts though! hahaha! No really, he didn't have to take me to this particular restaurant so I'm going with the assumption that he thinks I'm worth the expense and is really digging me. (this place is like $45/plate) And who would be mad at that? :)

So I met this guy

He’s 9 years older than me but he is an absolute breath of fresh air. He’s so sweet, he keeps me smiling and swooning. BUT…he’s not that attractive to me. Two of my friends think he’s fine and I’m bugging. And maybe I am just a little bit, but I know that his looks are going to have to grow on me. He’s not irredeemably ugly, otherwise I wouldn’t have given him my number. It’s just that he’s not my type and I didn’t even think I had a type but I guess I do. We all do, I think. Granted I have several types, it’s unfortunate that he’s not really fitting any of them. But he’s built like a God, that’s definitely my type J he’s sweet, he’s smart, he’s attentive and he gives me my space, he’s generous, and he’s also slightly goofy in that charming “I really like you so I’m tripping over my own feet” way. Why can’t I find this model in my own age range?

Anyway, we’re meeting for dinner this week and since he’s somewhat new to the area (he moved up from Temecula for a job promotion that he’s super excited about) he’s letting me pick the restaurant. So I asked him what kind of restaurant he’d like me to look for, and he said “seafood.” Expensive taste J, which aint a bad thing, lol. But I don’t want to take this man to the cleaners. I’m kind of reluctant to give him my suggestions because they’re all pricey as hell. But I can’t find another nice restaurant in between us! The whole reason we’re meeting each other at the restaurant is because we live a little more than 30 minutes apart WITHOUT rush hour traffic. So on a weekday, trying to get to either side of town after 5pm/work will be murder on the soul and more like an hour + commute. Which is why I offered to meet him halfway rather than have him go through all that just to come and take me out to eat.

He just texted me wishing me a good day today J Man, beginnings are always so nice. I’m on a gotdamn cloud right now! I wonder when I’ll come crashing down…

T.G.I.F.

I'm in a great mood. Partly because it's Friday (yay!), but mostly because everything about my life is great right now :) This is what being is your 30s is all about! Finally! I have so much hope for the future. I still want my "Essence Atkins wedding" and a couple more kids, and a picket fence, and a dog, and more barbecue's in the backyard (by a pool, preferably), and romantic travel with just me and my boo (when I figure out who he is), and to check off all the things on my Bucket List before I kick The Bucket. I can feel change in the air. Things are looking up!

Happy Friday!!

My kitchen does not inspire culinary creativity

It's much too small, and despite the whimsical diner themed wallpaper I put up and my other decorating attempts to elicit a desire in me to make good food, I do not enjoy cooking in there. I don't even want to spend 20 minutes in there. There is no counter space and it's too cramped. I bet Julia Child never had this problem. What's worse is, I'm always hungry. haha. I simply adore food. Last night a good friend and her friend (with weird false eyelashes, but I'll get to that later...maybe) and I went out to dinner at this Benihanas-like Japanese spot in Monrovia. Complete with koi pond, zen garden, and white paper screens, the ambiance and food was divine. And cooked up right there in front of us - at our table, in fact - on a big flaming grill. I want to cook and eat like that every night. But I can't afford to eat at quirky Japanese restaurants every night. So I must do something about my uninspiring little kitchen. Maybe I need to see it with new eyes. Maybe I should paint my cabinets red. Size isn't important, right? It doesn't matter, right? I wish that were true. I'll have to make the best of it though, because I won't be moving anytime soon, nor will I be hiring contractors to expand my 1920s kitchen further into the backyard. The heart of my home may be small but it has loads of character. That counts for something, doesn't it? Sure it does. I'll get to work on it first thing tomorrow.

So now about the chick with the busted eyelashes. As we waited for our mutual friend to get ready so we could go, she talked to me while looking off in another direction. A whole sordid tale about her troubles with Tmobile and she's staring into the kitchen, only making eye contact with me twice, probably just to make sure I wasn't looking off elsewhere, lol. And her eyelashes were a hot ass mess. They partially covered her eyelid, leaving space on each side of her eye. So she had short lashes on the sides and big, butterfly lashes in the center. Considering they were uneven, I figured this wasn't done purposely. I guess she'd lost some lashes over time and never bothered to remove the rest. It was like having artificial nails on 3 fingers and the index finger and thumb were broken. Poor thing, all night she talked about her celebrity connection with Ellen Degeneres and one of the chicks from the 90s group, Jade. Then she had to nerve to say that her fake Fendi bag cost $2500. I was sure it was fake because I'd seen the exact bag at the Roadium swapmeet last weekend with the horrid stitching. Someone like that must live in so much misery. Part of me wanted to hug her and the other part wanted to snatch those damn eyelashes off of her eyes.

Objects of My Affection

I'd rather be home cleaning my house

I wish we had snow days here. It'd be nice if they gave us the day off for rain and mudslides, but noooo. So I'm forced to work on mindless crap until the late afternoon today, when I could be home cleaning my house and regaining my peace of mind.

The frog contacted me last Thursday. I resuscitated him momentarily. He has some showing and proving to do and I aim to allow him to do it. Were it not for his sex appeal I'd have pissed on his grave and not skipped a beat. (what an awful image, lol)

Anyway, at least I'm no longer as smitten as I was. I think I have a better handle on the situation now. We'll see!

My house is a wreck. I need to clean it and meditate or something, regroup. Feng Shui the hell out of it.

Sobering Mood

Well, I kicked ass in volleyball Tuesday night. I was the tallest player in a gym full of Asians and one white girl. They were aggressive as hell, though but I still managed to do okay. Better than okay :) That was the bright spot in my week. Now about the bullshit...

Men *spits. I'm so tired of kissing frogs I could just croak! The last great relationship I had began with me not liking him. I treated him prettttty badly, yet he loved me. Loved my dirty drawls, even. Everyone was badgering me like "You're tripping. You should get with *****" and I was like "Right. Whatever. Uh-huh." But then I got to thinking, what if I gave him a try? So I did one day and he was Happppppy. Man, was he geeked. So I was geeked, and started to treat him like a human being for once, all nice and sweet and accommodating. Until one day he sat me down and told me he'd rather I go back to the way I was before (read: bitch). Puzzled, and a little bit miffed, I did as he requested...sort of. Anyway, fast forward to our break up years later and this fucker has the nerve to say to me "Man! I shouldn't have EVER told you to stop being nice to me. What was I thinking!?"

W.T.F? MEN! *hocks loogey.

So the latest frog has been M.I.A. for 3 days now. Just *POOF! I thought things were going great. Last correspondence was cutesy and flirty and sweet and all up in my business. Now? Nothing, nada, zip, zilch. I checked the morgue, checked the jails, checked the hospitals, checked Twitter...and voila, there he was, tweeting as if I never existed :( I have no idea what happened. I sent him a "hey, you still alive?" email and he has yet to confirm. And they say women are fickle. psht! I want to stab him in the hand w/ an unfolded paperclip but...this too shall pass.

If I don't hear a peep by Monday, he's dead to me.

UPDATE:

He's dead to me.

I don't know why i do this to myself/the baby

I get all excited, anticipating something from someone else, chucking all of my eggs into one big basket...and then they let me down. I hate relying on people. Hate, hate, hate it. And I always tell myself that I won't ever do it again, but then I start slipping because I'm not entirely jaded yet and then they disappoint me. So now I'm disappointed and my focus is all off track. This sucks.

Last night I had a dream that I performed oral sex on John Legend. At the Roots Grammy Jam he had on a pair of jeans that made him look stacked in the front and, well, since I was right at the front of the stage almost directly beneath him, that's what I had to look up at before moving on to his face. But I got quite the eyeful, which probably explains the dream, which was a great dream :)

I almost forgot to post pictures of the bambina. Her name is Rhyann and she looks just like both of her parents. I'm so afraid that I'll love her too much and get my heart trampled on. Blame my niece for that. Anyway, here she is.

I'm irritable/volleyball tonight

And I'm not entirely sure why. I want to blame it on pms but I'm not so sure and I hate the idea that I can't control my moods. However, there is no denying that much has bothered me today. It could also be that I just need to get filet'd ;) slap it up, flip it, rub it down! oh nooooo!

Yeah, I'm grouchy.

Tonight I will get my old ass out on the court to play volleyball with a bunch of short Asian girls, and I'm kind of scared, very nervous. It's been soooo long since I've set, served, hit, spiked a ball. I hope I don't embarrass myself :( Wish me luck.