My Worst Date

Today we are supposed to talk about our worst date.

However, I've never had a bad date. 

I know, I know. Lucky Tee. 

I mean, what can I say? I'm amazing and everyone that I've ever been on a date with makes sure that our activities reflect my awesomeness. 

There's also an outside chance that I warned people of possible suplexes and throat chops if they presented me with some low budget Dixie Dozen/Waffle House combo. 

I have standards people. I'll make sure they are met. By any means necessary. 

So anyway, there have been no bad dates. But I have had some really odd outings with men who were not my man. These usually occurred when I was out with girlfriends. Also, they were back in the days before I went straightedge, so keep that in mind when you judge me. 

Picture it. Louisville. 1997. The Elk's Lodge.

I was home from school for the weekend and my friend, Mahogany suggested that we go to the Elk's for some fun. Now I was all about this because whenever we went epic fuckery always ensued. How was I to know that on that night, I would be feeling the brunt of it all?

So we get dressed. I'm wearing a halter top and a long black skirt with splits on both sides. It was 1997. That was the hotness, try not to judge.

I'm on the dance floor amaretto sour in one hand, other hand caressing my Halle Berry cut like I'm super fine, and getting my life to this little ditty.

Now, I don't know if you know this about me or not, but I don't like folks in my personal space. There were two people next to me and I knew them both. Imagine my surprise when a large shadow covers us all and I feel the flesh of a stranger on my shoulders. It was covered by clothing...but still.

I froze. 

I'm talking mid-move. You would have thought we were playing Simon Says in that bitch.

I look to my right and Mahogany is looking up. And not just regular up. She's a tall girl and her neck was bent back 90 degrees.

That's when I knew that I was about to be accosted by Goliath. I went into fight or flight mode. Really, just flight because I ran off that floor so damn fast you would have thought that my ass was on fire.

Never dropped that drink though.

I found a seat at a table and finished off my drink. After a few minutes my homegirls walked up to the table laughing.

"He wants to meet you," they said.
"Who wants to meet me?" I ask with disdain.
"Him..."

And there was the shadow again. This time it covered two tables and scared a white lady into not liking black guys anymore.

I said the Lord's Prayer and looked up.

Wanna know what I saw?

Yep. That guy.

His name is Mark Henry. He's a wrestler. I didn't know that. I thought he was a University of Louisville football player, or at the very least a giant murderer. I was about 98.658% certain that he wanted to take me home, lock me in the basement, and boil me in a pot of Le Petite Black Girl Stew.

I didn't say a word. I got up and walked away.

He followed.

I'm certain this is what we looked like to everyone.

I couldn't get rid of him. 

After a while, I talked to him. We had what might go down in history as the shadiest conversation I've ever had with another human being.

Him: I'm Mark Henry.
Me: That's nice. 
Him: What's your name, beautiful?
Me: That will do.
Him: What? Beautiful?
Me: Yep.
Him: So Beautiful, what are you drinking on?
Me: Water from this point on.
Him: Gotta keep that body right huh?
Me: Some of us care about that kind of thing.
*He rubs his belly.*
Him: You don't like it?
Me: No sir. I don't.
Him: Can I take you out?
Me: Why?
Him: I like you. I can tell we would have a good time.

At this point I'm afraid. Why? Because I'm certain he's a serial killer and he wants to use my skin for an arm brace.

Mahogany comes and saves me. We leave.

As we are walking across the parking lot. He shows up. If you didn't know, Mark Henry moves like a damn ninja. Never seen a big be so damn stealthy.

He asks for my number and a date again.

Mahogany turns around and yells "NO! Shit!"

And then we went home and saw on the television that he had recently signed a contract with the WWF for like $20 million dollars. 

The moral of this story? Never go to the Elk's Lodge. 

Swear this is what he looked like once that Yack took hold of 'em

Next time I'll tell you about a crush who went all Hulk smash when another man (a friend) touched my arm in a way that he deemed unacceptable. If ole boy was trying to get my attention, he got it. Dude was fine as frog hair too. Too bad he was a lunatic.

Moral of that story? Never go to the Elk's Lodge. 

Serenity. Courage. Wisdom - Part 2

I got another tattoo yesterday. Three words on my left wrist: serenity, courage, wisdom. A while ago I wrote about why these three words mean so much to me. 

I'd been going back and forth about getting a new tattoo for several months now. So why yesterday instead of 3 months ago? Well, yesterday a friend of mine and I were talking about it so I decided to do it. But that conversation (which was EPIC by the way) is not the only reason why I pulled the trigger.

My anxiety came back. 

For months I've been good. So good that I even stopped carrying my meds around in my purse. I didn't need my 911 pack anymore because I hadn't been dealing with any symptoms. No panic attacks. No insane heart palpitations. No tears.  

But some stuff I thought I got rid of came back and combined itself with some new stress and... BOOM. That elephant was sitting on my chest again. 

I had to remind myself that I cannot change the behaviors of others. I can only change how I react to their behavior. I had to remember that everything is not worth getting riled up and angry about. Some things just aren't worth the fight. 

My peace of mind is far more important than trying to right someones wrongs.

That's what this tattoo means to me. It's a constant reminder that I am more important than whatever the struggle I am going through at the time. I may not be able to control what other people do, but I can control how I react to them.

Serenity. Courage. Wisdom. 

No a tattoo didn't give me those things. It didn't miraculously make my anxiety go away either. I certainly wasn't expecting that. But in some ways I do feel better. 

It's like I have a permanent security blanket. And constant comfort is kind of what I need right now. 

Random Thoughts of an Insomniac

No sleep tonight. I've been laying in the dark and playing Candy Crush Saga for hours.  Even those delightful little candies couldn't keep my thoughts at bay...

• I've started like 6 different entries since my last post. I just can't figure out a way to finish them.  I get an idea and start writing, I just can't close the way I want to.  This must be what it feels like to need a little blue pill...

• I'm only "funny" when I'm sad or super stressed.  The worse I feel the better the one-liners, pot shots, and zingers I give.   

• I'm certain I have the worst case of Mean Girl Syndrome ever recorded in history. 

• EVERYONE is an unsub. Trust no one.  Keep 911 on speed dial and your mace locked and loaded. Stranger danger is real. 

• Prince's afro makes him look like a little Vietnamese lady who trying to be down with the movement.

• Beyonce's ass bet not be pregnant.  Heffa had me jumping through hoops and learning new languages for these damn tickets.  I want to see her stop, drop, roll, pop, lock, Wop, tick, tut, freeze, flip, and flop.  I won't get that if she has a gut full of Carter. 

• I bet the person that won the Powerball is 87 year old retiree with an oxygen tank and 13 cats. 

• I wonder if I can get dual-citizenship in Colorado? 

• Why are all of the houses I want so damn expensive? Ya girl has Ace of Spade dreams on a PBR budget.

• I didn't twist my hair. Gonna be living that Arnold Drummond life today...

• Why are chin hairs so sneaky?

• No news for me for the next few days... my heart can't take it.

• Classical music makes my heart smile.

• So does A$AP Rocky.

Okay that's enough... I'm going to try to lay down for a little while. 

Holiday Blessings

I know it's been a few weeks since I posted anything. I've been a little busy lately, so please forgive me. All these distractions have been good for me. This season hasn't taken a toll on me emotionally like it usually does. That's a very good thing. 

A few months ago I started a little side hustle. I've been editing and proofreading manuscripts for independent authors. I haven't really had time to post anything over here because I've been busy helping people bring their dreams of being a published author to fruition. That's pretty damn dope. 

There are lots of folks out there that are writing. I've met some pretty talented and interesting people. It's all pretty cool for a book nerd like me. I'm actually making a little money doing something that I enjoy. 

In addition to that, I've been given the opportunity to write a weekly column/blog for a new website called I Won't Settle. The site is dedicated to committing yourself to wait on (or engage in) a healthy relationship, instead of settling for whatever comes your way. My column will be called "Truth Be Told..." You may see some entries that I've posted on here, likely my faves that I felt needed to shared. Mostly, it's going to be my insights on love, marriage, and relationships in general. I'll be as honest as possible and share my experiences and hopefully help some folks out. I'll have to keep my cussing to a minimum over there, but I made a resolution about a decade ago to slow that down anyway. ;-)

So yeah, I've been having a pretty good Winter. No time to dwell on hurt and ghosts from the past, when my present is so full of blessings! 

Happy dance time....

Insomniac Thoughts

See that face? That's how I feel...but cuter. 

It's currently 4:42 in the am and I've been up since 12. This may not be a big deal for some, but this is pretty major for me.  You see, I NEED the 8 hours of good sleep that has been constitutionally (see the 34th Amendment where REM is discussed) allotted to me. NEED.

If I don't get my full 8 hours I'm not nice.  Ask anybody that knows me.  Lack of sleep brings the bitch out of me in the most major way.  I won't even pretend that I like you if I'm sleepy.  I'll chop you down and keep walking without a single fuck being given.

I NEED my 8 hours.  In case you didn't catch it before.

I'm usually in bed by 8:30.  Except on Sundays, Wednesdays and Thursdays.  On these days I stay up past my curfew so that I can enjoy Once Upon a Time, Criminal Minds, and Scandal.  I make sure to take a nap on those days though, so my body will still be rested.  I know you are judging me right now because I keep elementary student hours and engage in Kindergarten practices, but check this out: I don't care.  You can call me what you want, but make sure you call me refreshed.

This is why I'm so vexed about not being able to sleep:  it's making my face look like I'm one of you normal people.  We can't have that.  I take pride in being wrinkle, crack, facial hair, and bag free.  This sleep thing is trying to end me and I have no idea what to do about it.

I mentioned earlier that lack of sleep makes me mean.  Well, it also makes my mind wander to the strangest places.  For instance, about 15 minutes ago, I looked at my Twitter profile picture and legit said the following words (out loud mind you): "I got a neck like Kimora Lee Simmons!" Really? Only a sleep-deprived deviant would say such things about themselves.  But I couldn't stop myself.  And now, I'm sitting here wondering why it took me 34 years to notice these neck rolls I have and contemplating ways to destroy them.  Chin ups? Neck flexes? Neck-o-suction?

I'm pretty sure you're curious about the other weird shit I think about on nights like this? OK, I'll tell you:

• My babies with Willie Geist would be AMAZING. UH-MAZE-ING!
• I wonder if Usher knows he's a gnome?
• Ellen would so be my BFF if she just got to know me!
• Why didn't God grant me my second growth spurt? 
• The next person to touch my hair is going to get choke slammed.
• Hold up...I think that's premeditated assault or something...never mind...

And that's just the past 15 minutes or so.  Imagine having to deal with that for extra hours of awake time! I'm driving myself bonkers!

I'm not sure what's causing this insomnia, but I wish it would go the hell away.  I can't be my usual perky, chipper, up with the people self because of this.  I'm getting complaints from management and employees (read my husband and my son) about my behavior being more odd than normal.

I have to figure something out to fix this.  No drugs though.  My last experience with Ambien was like a Jimi Hendrix trip to Woodstock.  No bueno.  Also, I've heard about people doing foolish shit like sleep eating  and sleep driving on that stuff.  I'm trying not to be a fat girl with inexplicable parking tickets! 

Ugh.