tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84115102100592511462024-03-06T01:25:10.651-08:00Rant: The musings of MelissaClearing throat. Tapping mic...
Is this thing on? Mic check...one,two…
Okay. Here we go. Taking large step on faith.
This introvert is taking her act out on the road. People with different perspectives are welcome. We can respectfully disagree when differing opinions happen. I've trolled (is that the right word?) lots of virtual spaces and cringed at the thoughtless bullying behavior by those who safely hide behind the anonymity that social sites allow. Hopefully, this will not be THAT place.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-59482431969927360482018-03-18T08:37:00.002-07:002018-03-18T08:37:24.436-07:00Waiting to be foundEleven years ago, I left my husband. I left for a lot of reasons, all of them were to better myself and my children. My biggest fear then was being alone. But I realized then that I was lonely while living with a man who clearly didn't love me. And what kind of life is that? I'd rather be alone. And so, I have been.<br />
And while I've been alone, I've been working on me. Working on figuring out who I am I after all of these years of adjusting myself to fit whatever I thought some man wanted.... And never fitting. Working on figuring out what I want out of life, out of love... What is love even ... for me?<br />
But let me tell you, relationships after 45 are not easy. I knew it was going to be tough when I closed the door eleven years ago, I just didn't know that once I raised my standards, I'd find so few who would even attempt to cross the bar. I never would have guessed in my mid thirties that in my late forties, men would be expecting to simply fuck me. Even though I choose to cover. Yeah, I wear a headwrap daily. That, at this stage in my life, with my intelligence, my passion, my conversation... No man, in person approaches me with any interest in getting to know me. None approach in person. Some still slide in the DM with suggestive pics of what they'd like to do... Sigh...<br />
So, 49 and waiting...<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-32193748192143485352015-02-22T07:13:00.001-08:002015-02-22T09:08:06.315-08:00What happened on HTGAWM? So... I'll start...<br />
That last episode of <i>How To Get Away With Murder</i>. Amazing on so many levels. They managed to layer, in one scene, so many complex issues that my mind was almost blown. And to top it off, my girl Cicely Tyson helped to bring it all home.<br />
<br />
<b>Rape </b>- There is that issue that so many consider a women's lib issue. No, folks. That is a societal ill. We all know by now, that rape is not about sex; it's about violence and control. In one heated moment, the mother yells, I I told you! Men take things! They've been taking things from women since the beginning of
time." A man is a sick individual who has to take from a woman in order to
feel powerful, and it is a sick society (nationally and globally) that
continues to allow this violence to happen with little to no consequence for the
perpetrators.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Hey World, step up your game.<br />
<span style="-webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<b>Incest </b>- Ooooooo, no they didn't. But oh, yes! They did. We will not be taking THIS to the grave! We will talk about IT ... RIGHT... NOW! So, black people, hold on to your slips, your panty hose, your girdles and all those other things you use to "keep it together." We are going to let it all hang out. Incest does happen in black families. Uncle did touch Daughter like that. Daddy did touch Son like that. Sister did touch Cousin like that. Now, whatcha gonna DO about that? Now, in our fictional world of <i>HTGAWM</i>, mother burned uncle alive. There; justice is served. That low down, incestual pervert got what he deserved...but what about the little girl/boy who will struggle to develop into a whole adult? Yes, Take-It-To-Gravers, black people need to talk to therapists, too.<br />
<br />
<b>Mother/Daughter Relationships</b> - (*Disclaimer* I'm a daughter. And I have a mother. So understand, I've got my share of issues.) Can we say "misunderstanding"? Maaaan, how old is this story that never gets old? Can we communicate? Why didn't mama say something in allllllll of those years? From the moment Annalise's mother walks in the front door, it's clear that she is NOT shy about using her words. That "VIP" line ... Whaaaaat?! So how is it that this lady could not find her words to assure a girl child?<br />
<br />
<b>Naps</b> - I'm sorry kinks. No? How about curly? No? Okay, let's try Type 4A? Ya'll, I'm messing with you. I'm a black woman and I've got nappy hair. Wait... Hold on...bear with me. I understand the historical connotation of the word "nappy". Believe me, as a little girl, I bore the shame of my naps. <i>Wouldn't it have been better if my father was Puerto Rican? Then, I could have that pretty, long, and wavy hair like that girl who sat two seats in front of me. You know, the one whose hair was so pretty all the boys liked to touch it...</i> Anyway, this is the hair I have, and over the years, I've learned to not only accept it for what is, I also LOVE it and all of its kinks. And I've come to feel bad for people who have this marvelously textured hair but still fear/feel that it does measure up to any standard of beauty.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #660000;"><b style="background-color: #f3f3f3;">And Scene - </b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<ul>
<li><b style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #660000;">Enter: Annalise and her mother ...and a large toothed comb (Yep, in this instance, the comb is a character in its own right.). </b></li>
<li><b style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #660000;">Mother sits with daughter seated on floor, between mother's legs. </b></li>
<li><b style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #660000;">Mother begins combing through daughter's thick and nappy/kinky/tightly curled/4A hair. </b></li>
<li><b style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #660000;">Audience hears the snapping of tangles being loosened. </b></li>
<li><b style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #660000;">Audience sees mother pause to release some of the hair from the comb. </b></li>
<li><b style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #660000;">Mother begins to use comb to scratch daughter's scalp...and bonding begins... </b></li>
<ul>
<li><b style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #660000;">End scene.</b></li>
</ul>
</ul>
<br />
<br />
Watch the episode preview: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UarhW6svZjA<br />
<br />
The Huffington Post did a great job of capturing most of the moments I talked about: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/02/19/how-to-get-away-with-murd_2_n_6720164.html<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-9451140198234205592014-09-16T17:55:00.001-07:002015-02-22T05:23:11.552-08:00Hello to me!So... I took a really good picture of myself today. Not just any selfie, but the selfie of selfies. I'm really grateful to have seen myself that way. I really think I look beautiful in the picture. The sun hits my face just right. My eye brows are arched just right. My eyes shine in the sunlight just right. My lips are shadowed just right. My hair wrap is done up just right. I felt beautiful. I reflected beautiful.<br />
<br />
Before today, I was flip flopping on whether to continue with Mr. Acts-Like-A-Horny-Teen or not. I like the attention he sometimes shows me, but I don't like the way he assumes my kisses, the way he kisses, his inability to express himself without "you know what I'm sayin' " being thrown in after every five or so words. I really don't like his kisses. I don't want to settle ever again. I've been alone. I am alone, but I'm not lonely.<br />
<br />
I'm good until what He promised comes to me.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-45347683680779132982014-02-20T05:35:00.001-08:002014-02-20T05:35:15.058-08:00Ooops! The results from the biopsy ...Non-cancerous!<br />
I was so happy with the good news and ready to move on with my life, that I forgot to slow down and share. I do not have cancer. I, as long as it's in the plan, am still going to live.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-61727237177085309862014-01-17T19:13:00.001-08:002014-02-20T05:42:03.422-08:00What's Not to Love? So lately, I'm thinking, "What's Not to Love? " I'm attractive. I'm smart. I make a decent living. Why is there no one interested in me? I'm just saying.<br />
<br />
I went for a walk with my kid yesterday around our hood. Without exaggeration, I noticed that many men were staring at me. At one point, there were about 4 men looking all at once. So ... why don't I have anybody (besides that one guy) knocking down my door? My 12 year old said, "I don't want to sound creepy or anything, but these guys are staring at you because you're really good looking." That brought a smile. But he's my kid. He thinks I'm beautiful at 150 pounds or 272 pounds. And I love him for that.<br />
<br />
Now, if the right one (who isn't my son) can check me out.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-73031727705625243222013-12-25T21:50:00.000-08:002013-12-25T21:50:12.607-08:00Waiting to ExhaleFound a lump in my neck over the summer. Finally went to see the doctor a couple of weeks ago, and he ordered me to take blood test and an ultrasound. After the ultrasound and blood test result came back, my doctor felt that a biopsy was in order. I had the biopsy performed last Friday.<br />
<br />
After the the specialist explained to me how the testing goes, he, his second second doctor, and the technician began the procedure. It was supposed to be cut and dry. Very little wait time. It was supposed to go like this:<br />
1. use the needles to withdraw samples from the nodule four times.<br />
2. take the samples out to the lab in the hall and look at them<br />
3. after a few minutes, results would be known<br />
4. they would share the results with me<br />
<br />
It didn't go exactly like that. Steps 1-2 went as planned. Step three...<br />
<br />
They took the samples out to the hall. I waited a few minutes. Then, I waited a little more. Finally, a different man came into the room to explain that he is the head of the lab department, and my test results might not be back until after Christmas. All the way through Monday, I continued to hope that I would receive a call about my results so that I could go into the week without the results on my mind. During the lab guy's spiel, the specialist, the second doctor, and the tech entered the room. And I was told "after Christmas for the last time, this weekend.<br />
<br />
Now, here I sit on Christmas evening, and my thoughts keep going back to my test results. It's getting to me.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-57798493956543041702013-09-01T18:57:00.001-07:002013-09-01T18:57:36.257-07:00What's next? <p dir=ltr>Working under the premise that I am responsible for finding my own fun, I need to find something fun for me to do. It can't be more than once a week because my first responsibility is to be a parent to my boys. <br>
The question then is what will I do? <br>
- dance class? <br>
- book club? <br>
- take myself to dinner and a movie? <br>
I will definitely need to put some thought into that. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-25595661448149601962013-08-24T21:37:00.001-07:002013-08-24T21:37:49.886-07:00Just need to say...<p dir=ltr>Maybe my biggest problem is that I can't imagine why anyone would not be interested in a relationship with me. So, there was a set back. Does that mean that you just throw me out? <br>
Still in shock about this. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-41358825158284565262013-08-17T17:56:00.001-07:002013-08-17T17:56:05.979-07:00Easier said than done<p dir=ltr>So. ...I have to tell myself all day every day to snap out of it. I do realize that I'm not mooning over what was. I'm actually mourning over what I wish we'd built together. </p>
<p dir=ltr>I also recognize that I was the only one in that "relationship" that wanted more even though things were far from perfect. I was willing to try to work on the things that weren't great because he had enough of the things that were good. The Almighty knew this wasn't right. Things worked out as they should have in the end. </p>
<p dir=ltr>It doesn't make being alone AGAIN any easier. But now I can be honest with myself. I wasn't the "hit it and quit it" type before, and I'm still not. I am the relationship kind of chick. I don't want to grow old alone. I want a partner who will be my best friend. He will love my saggy titties (or pay for new ones). He will enjoy eating my cat. He will know exactly what the hell he's doing, and he will be patient as he teaches me how to do the same for him. He will want to work out WITH me. He will want to spend time talking to me. He will want to lighten my load if he can, and he will accept my help where I can. He will initiate a friendship with my boys. He will NOT run away when things get hard, but he will work through it WITH me.</p>
<p dir=ltr>I have to hold on to the faith that She has the perfect man in mind for me, and that She has been preparing him at the same time that She has been preparing me. I need a man in my life, but not just any man. I need The man that She has intended for me. </p>
<p dir=ltr>God grant me the ability to see him when he arrives. And give me the right words when I see him. And, if it's not asking too much, please let him come soon. </p>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-51703681010916980392013-08-12T18:16:00.000-07:002013-08-12T18:16:46.317-07:00So.... it's overSo, after I did what I did, Mr.P has not called at all. He stopped by and showed Noah how to work the mower he brought by. And then he left without a word to me. Today, through text messages he said he was going through some things and that he's always my friend. What the hell is that? I'll tell you what it is. I was looking for more in the relationship than he was. Too old to be playing this game with him or any other man. I want someone to grow old with, not a "hanging" partner.<br />
So... letting go in 5, 4, 3...2... and 1.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-12643598277649068752013-08-07T16:54:00.000-07:002013-08-07T16:54:17.975-07:00Humble PieTonight, I'm letting Beringer's Moscato keep me company.<br />
<br />
I did something terrible. Something that a 44 year old woman should know better than to do. I shared something about my relationship with a friend instead of talking about it with Mr.P. I know how he feels about that, and for at least that reason, I should have not done that.<br />
<br />
I tried to apologize for that, but I don't think he's at all interested in my apology or anything else. I can't help but to think that he's not interested in building a relationship with me. If one mistake can send him away like this, I think it's pretty clear that he's not as invested as I need him to be.<br />
<br />
So... long story made short: letting go in 5...4...3...2... go...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-79673770551638396612013-06-28T17:54:00.001-07:002013-06-28T17:54:31.571-07:00Feeling a certain type of way this evening...It has to do with feeling stuck in place here. Feeling all alone here. <br />
<br />
Took my kids and their cousin to the movies. Took them out to eat afterward. Ugh!! Just kidding. I enjoyed the movie. I saw <i>World War Z</i> with Nigel and Noah and Macy saw <i>Monsters, Inc</i>. That <i>World War Z</i> movie was intense!<br />
<br />
Now, at 8:49 PM on a Friday night, I am sitting at home and feeling rather lonely again. Now that the school year is over, and the class reunion is done, I need to find something else to do with myself. Hmmmm.... join a club? Maybe some sort of singles' club for people over 40... That sounds like something to look into.<br />
<br />
At least I was offered a summer school position, and I will have something to do during the day. Gotta work on this evening thing. Mr. P is nice and all, but it would be silly to hang my wish upon his star. Word. The fact that I'm sitting here and feeling lonely says a lot.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-20505714326761573332013-06-23T15:50:00.001-07:002013-06-23T15:50:27.058-07:00Um hummm... :DThat's it. Nothing else to say, except that it didn't end with a bang; more like a fizzle.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-21830813318987276602013-06-10T17:14:00.002-07:002013-06-10T17:26:46.104-07:00Added to the wish list...I have discovered one more thing to add to my wish list:<br />
He must be able to live within the quiet spaces of my life.<br />
<br />
One of the things I prayed about when I was pregnant with my first child was that my child be able to understand I DO love him even when I'm quiet. I also prayed that He, in His infinite wisdom, would show me the times when words were necessary and to give me those words.<br />
<br />
I'm going to hand this one over to Him as well.<br />
<br />
I'm not so sure that my current friend is comfortable in my silence.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, we went for a walk through the park. It was okay. There were moments of silence. He would usually fill the void. The time before this one, he accused me of not talking much. Mostly, this is true.<br />
<br />
Sometimes, if I have something worth saying, I'll say it.<br />
<br />
I will work on communicating my thoughts more often. I admit that I don't like it when the person I'm with appears closed off. Maybe I can let my body talk for me when I don't fill like "chattering". Perhaps, I can put my arm through his, or I can wrap my arms around him. Something that says, "Hey. I'm here with you, and I'm enjoying your company."<br />
<br />
Wow, what an epiphany!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-39667454882756044072013-05-25T16:27:00.002-07:002013-05-25T16:27:18.972-07:00Here comes the down side of behaving like a teen-ager again...It occurs to me that he can hurt me at any time.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-83298636261927722132013-05-19T19:23:00.001-07:002013-06-24T11:59:23.871-07:00Today's gathering...I ended up at a gathering for Mr. P's friend's mother's 70th birthday party. We walked into the shelter, he started talking about the air conditioning, and then walked away with his friend...I was standing in a room full of strangers. I grabbed a seat at the nearest table, feeling a bit stupid for being left in this place...<br />
The wife of his friend came to rescue me. At least, I think she was there to rescue me. She brought me over to their table and introduced me to her friend. Things were pretty awkward for a while.<br />
<br />
I don't know what to make of this slight by Mr. P. It could be, that even at 50 years old, he is absolutely clueless. Could be. Or it could be that he didn't give a flying leap if he left me to fend for myself without even an introduction. Hmmm....<br />
<br />
Whatever the reason(s) that I ended up in that predicament, eventually, the women at the table included me in their conversation. What was the conversation about? Marriage. Or, more specifically, the woman's role in a good marriage.<br />
<br />
God knows I am NOT trying to be someone else's wife. I am, however, trying to be someone else's good friend. I want to be the right man's best friend. I want to be there for him, and for him to be there for me. Will that be Mr. P? Who but God knows? I do know that I'm leaving it open to Him. He knows what He has in store, and it His plan that I'm waiting for.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-39957921507685568382013-05-15T15:21:00.002-07:002013-05-15T15:21:11.773-07:00I'm a Little Shy<br />
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
You like my status?</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
You like my taste?</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
Wondering what it’d be like with us?</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
Come on, boy, say it</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
to my face.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
Not gonna bite…unless that’s what you like.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
Not gonna tease you…unless that’s what you like.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
In that case nibble, nibble, tickle, tickle.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
Whatever you like.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
I noticed your vibe, your rhythm, your flow</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
Feelin’ your intentions</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
Sharin’ your vision</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
Wantin’ to see what else you know.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
I think I’m in love</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
Well…</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
at least in-like.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
Yeah, you like my status.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">
I like yours, too.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-59606959763965694312013-05-13T16:46:00.000-07:002013-05-15T15:29:47.377-07:00Misguided......enough said. Learn to keep your mouth shut!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-53385537096376452282013-02-18T16:02:00.001-08:002013-02-19T18:39:18.489-08:00I had lunch with the perfect guy today...if he wasn't already someone else's husband.<br />
<br />
It was nice. Conversation flowed without any awkward prompting from either of us, and during moments of natural pauses in the conversation, it was okay, not rushed, not panicked, just okay. I remember thinking, man, why can't it be like this with someone else? Where is the man I can feel this way about but who isn't attached to someone else? (very sad emoticon)<br />
<br />
<strike>I suppose that's all I feel like saying about that</strike>.<br />
<br />
Scratch that...there's more to be said.<br />
<br />
I'm grateful to have had the opportunity to put my finger on that thing...that reminder of what I'm looking for. I want a friend. I want a friend who I am fiercely attracted to and who is just as attracted to me, and who knows how to talk to me ... makes me feel like he really sees me and hears me, and is genuinely interested in what I have to say. Who makes me hang on to his every word... <br />
<br />
Yeah. I'm holding out for that. Nothing else will do.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-43951104866262399252013-01-29T15:11:00.000-08:002013-04-26T17:51:59.361-07:00What gives?So... I spent last evening sending messages back and forth with a fellow on blackpeople. Then we figured out that we work for the same school district. <br />
<br />
My first response - uh oh. I've come to learn that black men are a hot commodity. Black professional men who work in a school building are hot tamales! Not only do all of the single black women want him, but many of the single (or otherwise) white women, Hispanic women, etc. want to (ahem) spend time with him.<br />
<br />
But my second response - maybe. Don't close a door until you know. So I admit to him that I'm curious. I suggest coffee or tea. I also give him an out: "unless [working in the same district] is a deal breaker for you." He responded, "<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><span style="background-color: #f0f0f0; color: #660000;">we can do a coffee date</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #660000;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f0f0f0; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<br />
<b>So we make plans:</b><br />
<br />
...I Said:<br />
...Subject: Re: LETS TALK 10:03 PM on 1/28/2013<br />
<span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #660000;">...Any place you prefer?</span><br />
<br />
He Said:<br />
Subject: Re: LETS TALK 10:09 PM on 1/28/2013<br />
<span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: #660000;">lets do the coffee spot</span><br />
<br />
...I Said:<br />
...Subject: Re: LETS TALK 10:32 PM on 1/28/2013<br />
<span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="color: #660000;">...Okay. The spot it is. I'll check in with you tomorrow. Good night</span></span>.<br />
<br />
The next day...<br />
...I Said:<br />
...Subject: Re: LETS TALK 10:15 AM on 1/29/2013<br />
<span style="background-color: #f3f3f3;"><span style="color: #660000;">...When would you like to meet?</span></span><br />
<br />
See the problem? My last communication with him was at 10:15 this morning. After thinking that we were planning to meet after work <b>today</b>, and after spending quite a bit of time making sure I was wearing a "first impression" outfit. After spending all day looking at my phone expectantly for his response to come through.........waiting.......waiting........<br />
<br />
Did I assume too much? Did I have the wrong impression? I thought we were interested in meeting EACH OTHER. After all, he suggested that we meet yesterday evening. But, maybe I was pushing on something that wasn't there. I'm too damn old for these games. Does he? Doesn't he? I would much rather be up front.<br />
<br />
Something like:<br />
Hello guys out there.<br />
Looking for a single, mature man who is educated (self or university). Looking for a man who is cool with who I am, and is comfortable with who he is. Looking for a man who appreciates my sense of humor and comes with one of his own. A man who thinks I'm drop dead gorgeous and can't wait to get his hands on my body. Every nook and cranny of my body. A man who understands that as we age the body changes (most likely because his body has changed as well). A man who wants to be my friend and THEN my lover. <br />
<br />
Damn.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-29701816886362875412013-01-22T18:21:00.000-08:002013-01-22T18:21:06.537-08:00Getting restlessSo....what to do....<br />
<br />
I am visiting blackpeoplemeet and match on a regular basis. Everyday, in fact. There have been a few nibbles on blackpeoplemeet, but nothing I feel is worth taking ashore. There's been absolutely nothing happening on match. There was Mr. F150 one year ago, and that was it.<br />
<br />
I'm feeling better about myself. Feeling sexy...feeling me...you know. So, why isn't anyone else? <br />
<br />
Getting tired of waiting. Don't misunderstand, still not going to just throw away this well preserved cookie, but ... Wazzuuuuuuup????<br />
<br />
Anyway, making a date with myself to meet at the gym tomorrow. So Girlie, be there or be ...flabby? ;)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-85490938468950024312013-01-02T15:47:00.002-08:002013-01-27T14:59:10.432-08:00I'm 100 Today!!<br />
The following posts have been copied and pasted from my Obesityhelp blog. I'm excited, so I want to tell everyone, but I'm lazy, so I only want to write it once. The news is still the same: I AM ONE HUNDRED POUNDS LESS TODAY!!!!<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy6SECIuq6LlyyZ-NVLjRdP2z8eVLCzEsIQQaKl1hs0MGu_o5AXtHUxw-eATFWweIRcsa-Hl2pV9ZYMp0dVg2gowgys2G4320mN5RMkTW5J2IIrLRkSG6n7_qokDW_PUXSt1u4Q_sjRi0/s1600/100+POUNDS+OFF.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy6SECIuq6LlyyZ-NVLjRdP2z8eVLCzEsIQQaKl1hs0MGu_o5AXtHUxw-eATFWweIRcsa-Hl2pV9ZYMp0dVg2gowgys2G4320mN5RMkTW5J2IIrLRkSG6n7_qokDW_PUXSt1u4Q_sjRi0/s320/100+POUNDS+OFF.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">100 Today!</td></tr>
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<br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;" />
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;"><span class="title large" style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 17px;"><a href="http://www.obesityhelp.com/member/mcpoet/blog/2013/01/02/i-m-100-today--/" style="font-size: 18px; text-decoration: initial;">I'm 100 Today!!</a></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="title medium" style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;"><a href="http://www.obesityhelp.com/myoh/blog/action,controlPanelWrite/?pkid=447149&key=cb06119867aac3898d7b84f845fbe0df" style="text-decoration: initial;">[Edit Post]</a></span></span><br />
<span class="date" style="background-color: #999999; color: purple; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;">11 minutes ago</span><br />
<b style="background-color: #999999; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;"><span style="color: purple;">Published</span></b><br />
<div class="body_text" style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;">I decided to get on the scale this morning, and low and behold.... I am exactly 100 pounds lighter than I was when I was rolled into the operating room!!!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;">Woo-hoo!!!!!!!!!!!!!<img alt="" height="18" src="http://www.obesityhelp.com/shared/images/smiley/msn/dancing.gif" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" title="" width="26" /> Happy re-birthday to me.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;">And...happy early BIRTHDAY <img alt="" height="19" src="http://www.obesityhelp.com/shared/images/smiley/msn/cake.gif" style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" title="" width="19" /> to me for my actual birthday is on Saturday, and I am physically almost half the person I was on my last birthday. I just read a post where a member asked when is the honeymoon over. I'm here to tell you that my honeymoon is just beginning. Feeling good!</span></div>
<span style="color: purple;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: purple;"><br style="background-color: white; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;"><span class="title large" style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 17px;"><a href="http://www.obesityhelp.com/member/mcpoet/blog/2012/11/17/-was-it-worth-it--/" style="font-size: 18px; text-decoration: initial;">"Was it worth it?"</a></span><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;"> </span><span class="title medium" style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;"><a href="http://www.obesityhelp.com/myoh/blog/action,controlPanelWrite/?pkid=444778&key=b6db0cd9bc9d6b934b0eef390fd7816a" style="text-decoration: initial;">[Edit Post]</a></span></span><br />
<span class="date" style="background-color: #999999; color: purple; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;">on November 17, 2012 9:31 am</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;"><b style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;">Published</b><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;"></span></span><br />
<div class="body_text" style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17px;">
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;">So. I'm in the hair loss stage. Great weight loss, but I have found that the stories I've read all over the place are holding true for me as well. I'm losing a lot of hair. Because I have dread locks, it is sooooo obvious. My mother, who had hair loss from way back, looks at me with pity. My 6 foot tall, teen-age son stares down at my baldness. Last night, while looking at me from across the room, he asked me, "So, was it worth it?"</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;">"Worth what?" I ask, because I had just been watching television. Minding my own business.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;">"Worth losing your hair."</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;">Hair.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;">Hair.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;">Hair.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;">Yes, it echoed in my head. Just like that.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;">I suppose it was. I'm healthier. I can walk 10 feet without sweating. I can climb stairs without huffing and puffing. I am beginning to look GREAT in my jeans. The list goes on and the pros FAR outweigh the cons. Yes, I think I'd do it again.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #999999; color: purple;">I suppose this may be God's way of keeping me humbled. Great body. No hair.</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-60932491469669813882012-12-28T17:54:00.000-08:002012-12-28T17:54:15.574-08:00ExMan, my oldest son threw something at me today.<br />
<br />
The boys and I were driving home after spending a day of shopping, dinner and a movie. From the passenger seat of the car, he said, "He's supposed to be coming up here for a visit." I nodded my head. I had heard this information twice before. Once from my ex and once from my younger son. It seems both sons are (at least kind of) looking forward to this visit. I try not to think of it at all. Men say things. Not all things are true. Get me?<br />
<br />
Anyway, upon my oldest son's announcement in the car, I simply nodded my head. What was there to say? He went on, "Do you think you'll hook up with him when he's here?" <br />
<i>What?! Hook up?? What the...?</i> My response, "He's still mad at me."<br />
"Maybe not," the man-child continued, "he wished you a Merry Christmas." He did indeed.<br />
<br />
So, let me back up. My first response to my teenager's inquiry was: <i>he's still mad at me</i>. Not: <i>Get the heck out of here!</i> Not: <i>I'm not interested in going there!</i> Not even. just plain: <i>no</i>. What was that about? And while we're at it, why did I find myself fighting back tears as I continued to drive on in silence? What was THAT about?<br />
<br />
Yes, I find myself thinking about him often. Yes, I wonder if I were better at being a wife, would he have learned to be a better husband, and would my family still be together. I did leave. I put him out of our home twice and then I left the city. I know why I did it. I still loved him, but he was not doing the things I needed him to do. I did communicate my needs to him. Well, to be honest, I didn't communicate all of my needs to him. I did not take him into my confidence. It was stupid of me to think that he would figure that out on his own. So stupid. And then, there is the other reason. Insecurity? Maybe that is what I should call it. Being honest, right? I know why he married me. Our son. <br />
<br />
But why did he stay married to me? Shelter? Security? Love? Me? He never said. Never said. And I needed to know. I figured that if I gave him the space, he would fly away, or he would move Heaven and Earth to get me and the boys back. But he didn't move heaven or earth. He stayed. He stayed and an anger festered in him. He learned to hate me. He moved to Atlanta, with his mother, and still he felt nothing but anger.<br />
<br />
In the meantime, I was learning to communicate. And I began to see where I went wrong in this relationship. I began to try to communicate with him, but he was too angry to try with me. I let more time go by, and I would try again. Still angry. More and more time would pass, until I stopped trying and began admitting that it was lost. It was over, and it was time to move on. This could not be the plan God had in store for me anyway. What God has in store for me would feel good to my whole self. Holding on to some hope that my husband would love me the way I want to be loved and the way I wanted to give love was fruitless. As a matter of fact, holding on to my hopes with him must be blocking God's plan. <i>Let it go. Let it go. Let it go, girl</i>.<br />
<br />
I spent the last two years letting it go. How is it that one suggestion of a "hook up" could chip away at my wall so easily?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-23025029787279218162012-12-27T16:42:00.001-08:002012-12-27T18:13:35.919-08:00About 94 pounds and counting...So...some changes have come over me since the weight has been coming off. I have the desire to break off a little cookie.<br />
Yeah, I said it. Let's marinate on that for a moment....<br />
<br />
Okay, the real problem is there is no one to give the cookie to. No prospects at all. For years, I barely registered men in my surroundings. They were simply assholes walking around. All after one thing - but not <b>my </b>thing, so why bother with them? I just walked around like a defensive lineman. <i>Don't bother to look at me 'cause I ain't thinking about you!</i><br />
<br />
Then I started losing weight. I have more energy. I can bound up the stairs at work. I'm looking good in my clothes, and I <b><u>know </u></b>it. <i>And now, I'm looking at you. Yeah, and you too.</i> All of a sudden, I feel as though someone has lifted my hood, and for the first time in years, I see men all around me.<br />
<br />
Don't misunderstand me. Just because I notice them, does not mean I'm ready to share THIS cookie with just any man I see. After 4 and 1/2 years of keeping it on lock, I recognize the value in my cookie, and I will not be handing it out willy-nilly. The man I decide to share it with will have to be WORTHY. Ahhh...there's the rub.<br />
<br />
Where does a mature woman like myself, with renewed body, mind, and spirit, find a worthy man?<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Blackpeoplemeet.com where "black people meet"? Oh, no.</li>
<ul>
<li>The men I've communicated with are ghetto, or get straight to asking for MY COOKIE. What nerve!</li>
</ul>
<li>Match.com where more matches are made? Absolutely not.</li>
<ul>
<li>So far, I've met one man who picked me up in a giant F150, did NOT help me climb up into the monster truck, took me to watch him eat dinner, and then, even though I made a point of telling him how I DO NOT LIKE going to clubs, took me to a club. Oh yeah, when I slipped on the icy bar trying to climb back into the truck after <i>his </i>dinner, the joker did not even get out to see if I was okay. That was my one and only <i>match</i>.</li>
</ul>
<li>In my living room, in front of the TV? Nope.</li>
<ul>
<li>Enough said there.</li>
</ul>
<li>At Walmart? Unh-unh.</li>
<ul>
<li>Plenty of men there, but they are usually following behind another woman like a puppy on a leash, waiting for her to pay for everything. No thank you. Been there, done that.</li>
</ul>
<li>At the movie matinee with my sons? Nothing happening.</li>
<ul>
<li>Besides, my sons block like its the final quarter in Lakers game (during the late 80's when the Lakers were my <i>ish</i>!)</li>
</ul>
</ul>
<br />
So what's a girl to do? I'm going to have to do something different.<br />
Okay, okay. The next opportunity I have to go somewhere where grown-ups congregate, I will jump on it.<br />
<br />
Before the cookie crumbles...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxAiAsKAa-KlisN0btnCpkryYecZ9G_OuKFSBvuQ4rghkWNcTvEdZxjzfhZK5jpjlYdKSpzoJIXNScdhv0DkopJhcblvqi1pg5wLaUrvWDLJfucgZGrPHZuvkPBNtfDYxyYtBTPUDkxA0/s1600/Me+12-1-2012.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxAiAsKAa-KlisN0btnCpkryYecZ9G_OuKFSBvuQ4rghkWNcTvEdZxjzfhZK5jpjlYdKSpzoJIXNScdhv0DkopJhcblvqi1pg5wLaUrvWDLJfucgZGrPHZuvkPBNtfDYxyYtBTPUDkxA0/s1600/Me+12-1-2012.jpeg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ready to attend a family members birthday party.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8411510210059251146.post-81352125750003513222012-10-14T08:44:00.001-07:002012-10-14T08:44:21.876-07:00Best info for hair loss after surgery<div><p><a href="http://bariatrictimes.com/2008/09/19/the-latest-on-nutrition-and-hair-loss-in-the-bariatric-patient/">The Latest on Nutrition and Hair Loss in the Bariatric Patient | Bariatric Times</a><br>
</p>
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0