A Quarter Life Crisis

This was the first Thanksgiving since Wander’s split from The Man Wander Married. I guess I should call him my dad but that would provide a level of respect for him that I no longer hold. Such as life! Initially we were going to spend the holiday with Granny SJ but hella typical of my mom’s family that plan changed. Granny SJ decided she didn’t want everyone at her house for the holiday and opted, as normal, to spend the day with Grannie Frannie and her clan. I don’t let my grandmother’s shows of favoritism hurt my feelings. I’ve chalked it up to the way things are, at least for my family anyway. I can’t say the same for Wander. Even though she says she doesn’t care, I’m not sure I believe that.

Side note can I still use hella sort of like can I still wear my Ugg Boots…not 100% sure about this. I’d appreciate if someone shed some light. Thanks in advance.

Since Granny SJ kicked us out of her festivities I opened my home for the holiday. I didn’t invite the Spaniard, (there’s no hidden relationship angst there but as noted he is devotedly Muslim and doesn’t celebrate any other holidays and at this point does he really need invites…yeah there’s hidden relationship angst there who am I kidding) but the Little Brother invited his piece of the moment. I shouldn’t disrespect his chick but I’ve yet to meet this strumpet so I can call her all types of off color adjectives until I put face to name. Honestly I doubt that she’s a slore, my brother is out of that phase…I think. Honestly I am the least of my brother’s worries. I’m the nice sister. It’s the little one that’s a handful. She’s super protective…as am I but in a different way. I allow everyone to make his own mistakes and then say I told you so…I kid…only slightly!

Sometimes I wonder how my brother feels being trapped betwixt two crazy sisters?

Of course I was on deck to pick The Little Sister up from the train station upon her return home for the holiday. I mean why wouldn’t I, considering my position within the family as the resident chauffeur and problem solver. As a result I pushed aside plans with The Spaniard. He rode the crimson wave about this all weekend with a little bleeding into the Thanksgiving week. In casual conversation I had to listen to how my sister/friends always ruin our plans. My rebuttal to this was simple, grow up! Clearly he missed the memo disclosing that he is not the sun so my revolutions aren’t always around him.

In my defense, not that I should have to defend myself, I did make it plain that my weekend and holiday week was zip-lock tight. Maybe he should consider compromise, rip his arse off his shoulders, and partake in the holiday season especially ones that aren’t religious in nature. Technically Thanksgiving is an American holiday. He’s an American the last time I checked, dual citizenship and hashish. Although some celebrate it with Christian overtones it is not technically religious. If he embraced his American-ness a little he wouldn’t have been the odd man out for the past few weeks…I mean it makes sense to me. Hell he doesn’t hear me complain about his inability to give me a hug during Ramadan or the fact that most Fridays he’s conveniently unavailable. Of course the line is drawn in the sand at the mosque. I’d give major o_0 (stank eye) if he ever asked me to attend then I’d politely decline. My compromising extent stops there.

But anywho, Pudding Pop invited us over to her place for Thanksgiving dessert. We never showed but I did let her know it was just a maybe, nothing definite. Wander was pretty exhausted after late night practice and rising early to sing in the Philadelphia Thanksgiving Day Parade. I rode her exhaustion to the bank. I just wasn’t in the mood to cram into my cousin’s apartment and play board games. Hey I’d been running around carting people here and there on top of cooking, cleaning and stroking The Spaniard’s ego. Like any normal human, I was tired.

In any event Thanksgiving dinner was fantabulous. It was very intimate just my immediate family. The Little Brother’s floozy made other arrangements. It felt like old times in that we laughed it up all night and I was happy. I spent the following day with The Spaniard toy shopping for his niece and nephew and my Godson. Toys r Us had relatively decent sales. We joked about going broke for kids that aren’t even ours…I held back a mini panic attack under the guise of an awkward silence and kept it moving.

The infamous apartment conversation reared its ugly head again. I don’t know another way to communicate No other than No. I’m not interested in moving in with him right now! Note the time reference, I’m not saying ever, just not now. I know I’m hurting his feelings, men are so fragile, but I’m not ready for co-habitation without real commitment. And if you read real commitment as engagement ring you’d be 100% right, not that I’m close to being ready for that either. Besides the Little Brother hasn’t been feeling well lately and well he needs me. And as sad as it sounds my brother needing me is more important to me than playing house with The Spaniard. My brother has never let me down…clearly I haven’t let go of the past completely. I’m a bottler so lump it.

On Saturday I planned on spending time with The Best Friend searching for updates to my Godson’s room. Can you believe he’s six? I can’t. Anywho we scooped up some good finds, posters and other little odds and ends. Pudding Pop was still insisting on spending some time so I cut out early on my bestie and headed back to the city to play board games with the familia. Added bonus, my cousin from Tampa was here celebrating my ex-aunt’s birthday and had left her kids with Pudding Pop. This was my first time seeing her two daughters and the last time I’d seen her son he was so shy it was like not seeing him.

Y’all know I’m allergic to children under age ten except my Godson, but the kids were cute and I actually had a pretty decent time. Awkwardly holding the smallest one wasn’t horrible and she had that scumptilicious new baby smell with pudgy cheeks, that’s how they sucker folks…not I! By 10:30PM I was beyond tired and had to call it a night even though the rug rats were wide awake. I have no clue what manufacturers put in those juice packs…probably coke of the snort-snort variety. Granted I’d been up since 4:00AM carting the Little Sister to the train station; yeah an older sister’s duties are never done.

It didn’t even seem like the Little Sister was home…could be because I didn’t let her stay at my apartment. Such as life!

In other news, The Man Wander Married ended up being rushed to the hospital. It seems his lungs collapsed and they needed to remove a bubble or something like that. Sounds eerily like cancer to me. Instead of calling my mom or having someone call one of us he opted to call his sister who in-turn had her daughter send me a FB message. Yeah you read that right, a FB message. Of all the random arse backward stupid hashish!

Mind you I’ve had the same cell phone number since 1999…WTF!

I feel torn about his recent health development. I mean when I was rushed to the hospital The Man Wander Married (TMWM) wasn’t even notified and even if he was he wouldn’t have shown, of this I’m certain. My brother’s been in the hospital several times this year and TMWM was ghost. When Wander called, because I didn’t see the FB message until much later in the day which is why FB is not a reasonable way to notify someone of an emergency, I thought she wanted me to drive her to the hospital. Luckily that wasn’t the reason for her call. She was just informing me, and had taken the stance since he didn’t call her there was no reason for her to show her face. I tend to agree. Of course there is a history here that’s not baked into this blogpost, but it’s already too long. Bottom line, I have daddy issues…not of the screw older men nature but daddy issues all the same.

And as much as I wanted to be fazed by him being rushed to the hospital I wasn’t. I felt worse when my best friend told me her grandmother’s husband’s back in the hospital battling cancer again. This probably makes me a bad person. I should care that my dad is in a hospital bed with an injury that kills people. I do care, don’t get me wrong. I’ve said a prayer for him every day since finding out but I don’t feel like I need to sit at his bedside faking tears, ruining mascara pretending we have a relationship. We don’t! And we haven’t for years. But he’s still my dad and has much as I dislike him, I once gave him a birthday card that read you’ve taught me how to love a person I don’t like, there will always be a part of me that smiles for him…albeit a very small part. Hell we share DNA, and that has to count for something, right?

The Spaniard almost got karate chopped in the throat for sideways insinuating my wrongness for not visiting TMWM in the hospital. Don’t worry I give out cyber chops too…I kid a little!

Anywho, say a prayer for The Man Wander Married that he gets better so he can continue to be the a-hole that he is….yeah I know I’m wrong #dontjudgeme!

Chello bloggers and blog-ettes I’m back with a little ditty I like to call the Week in Review.

When last we spoke I was battling Hurricane Spaniard. A surly storm that arrived on my shores a few months shy of two years ago. Sad as I am to say it burdens me still. As soon as I think I’ve out maneuvered the storm it loops the corner and hails all over my parade. In this case the Summer O’ Men…causing it to end just as abruptly as it started.

I agreed to have lunch with the Spaniard. After Wander made the waterworks the other week I felt I owed him and largely myself to put whatever we have to bed. Well much like fighting a pre-pubescent boy to shower and a toddler to sleep resolving our hashish wasn’t getting done over one lunch. We met at this quaint French spot that sells the most amazing crepes on 6th and Bainbridge. I can’t remember the name but it matters not.

Over a few savory and sweet crepes we discussed the relationship. A lot of our problems revolve around communication. In addition to him thinking I know exactly what’s going on in his head he has an issue with apologizing. Stubborn much! And granted I’m probably the most arrogant, unapologetically sarcastic person one will ever meet but for folks close to my heart I push those character flaws to the side, most of the time. I recounted the late for the train station incident where I got my ass chewed out by a banshee aka Spaz Manager. And still he didn’t offer an apology. Just coughed up an excuse, he confused the times. If assault weren’t against the law I would have hit him with my glass of water. He’s an asshole, sometimes! We parted ways that day with a hug and peck on the cheek.

Side note: When this man touches me I feel electricity run through my core…this cannot be a good thing.

Since we weren’t together I didn’t expect a gift for my birthday. Actually we’ve been conveniently unattached when my birthday rolls around. In any event I spent the early part of the day with Wander, Pudding Pop and Granny SJ. In the evening Wander took me shopping and I headed home relatively early, 10ish. Around 12 I get a text message from The Spaniard asking me to come downstairs. My first mind said to go downstairs and see what he wants but my second mind said total bad idea. Of course my first mind won this battle and I took the trip down the interior stairs of my apartment and was greeted by 5 or more bouquets of flowers, mostly lilies. Sometimes he’s not an asshole!

I was proud of myself that night because despite raging hormones amongst other things I kept my resolve and sent him on his way with nothing more than a Spank You kindly and a peck on the cheek….ok the lips but you get the point. I left most of the flowers on the doorstep. What was I going to do with 5 bouquets of flowers in my apartment?

After sharing the birthday flowers story with some of my close friends they were all somewhat surprised I didn’t give in. And The Best Friend, always a Spaniard supported was her usual self and told me I was dumb for not blurring the boundaries and taking a short ride on the ho train. Of course sex does not love make, so sometimes her advice is to be taken with a grain of salt.

But I digress.

Pretty Skin faded to the land of obscurity, also known as Never-Never land. By no fault of his own, well maybe a little, but with work and my see-saw appetite for The Spaniard I didn’t have the stomach to digest anymore of PS’ references to me as a man or his otherwise lack of genuine communication skills. I’m sorry I just can’t. Believe me there was no judgment here, I thought and still think some chiquitta will be hella happy to find and refine Pretty Skin. He’s a diamond in need of a little elbow grease.

PS did surface briefly this weekend. I quipped that I hadn’t been discarded to the do not call list. And his response was no but if you think it didn’t contain a man reference you’d be wrong. Ugh! Anywho I asked out of pure curiosity what he was up to this weekend. He responded that he had his daughter Saturday but would be free later in the evening. Clearly my conversation politeness was misconstrued. I told him that I had belated birthday plans with my cousin but I hope he enjoyed his weekend.

Was that rude of me?

Mailroom Boy to my utter surprise crawled from under his you got to be kidding me rock with a happy birthday salute. And believe it or not he was only about two days late despite having a phone reminder. His words not mine. Being late to everything but work is part of his je ne sais quoi…not. I was touched, don’t remember his birthday but that’s beside the point. Once I check out I check out, not that we had anything serious…please check the $14 incident that broke the camel’s back.

Since that time he’s been texting me on the regular. He even sideways mentioned that his daughter asked about me and she never asks about his friends. Hmm, I’m still not interested but am rather impressed that he’s getting his hashish together. Last we spoke Mailroom Boy was living in his aunt’s house, carless and working in the mailroom because it was easy. Now he’s taking classes to get his degree, driving his own car and living by himself. Not too shabby if I do say so myself.

Even Jon B. jumped back on stage for a small cameo in this show I call my life. I cancelled his performance before it could even start though. After the traditional how have you been what have you been up to chatter he asked if I ‘d like to come by on Sunday to “catch up.” Is that what the kool kids call it these days? Considering we’ve only known each other for roughly three months time and about a month of it we had no real communication I’m not sure we have any catching up to do. I mean in my book catching up is reserved for friends you’ve known for years but speak to infrequently because of schedules or proximity of course I could be wrong. Clearly his Kangol is too tight. I told him it was doubtful I’d be stopping by to “catch up.”

I’m seriously considering chucking up the deuces. I think Chris Breezy may have been onto something…all the bullshits for the birds…you judge it!

My new inspiration!!

As the summer rounds the bases on fall I’m busy reflecting. Yeah I know that we technically have about 4 more weeks left however, I can smell da rain coming – in my Sofia from The Color Purple voice. It’s been fun! I accomplished the summer ‘10 goal: meet a bunch of random guys. Gone on plenty of dates and burned more daytime minutes than I care to discuss.

At the same time, I failed. Here’s the thing. I decided that I wanted the summer o’ men out of rebound-ness. Some chose to screw their way out of break-ups I chose to date, po-tey-to/po-tah-to, whichever you prefer! Dating buffet style allows you to sample without over indulging in one flavor, and as we know variety is the spice of life.

This summer I needed He Who Must Not Be Named so removed from my bloodstream that at his name antibodies attacked. It didn’t happen, my body, forever infected by this man! I haven’t built enough immunity to ward off thoughts of him, comparison of him or in general I want him back-ness and it makes me feel weak. And weak much like can’t should never exist in an adult woman’s vocabulary. But maybe its not weak maybe it’s human! How could it be that there exists one absolute feeling that with all my jujitsu defense mechanism I’m incapable of thrashing? Me, the emotion catcher can’t bottle this one man up and let him go to never be spoken/contemplated again. Really I detest the What If game I’ve begun to play.

I played the What If game a lot after Future Ex Husband. What if I never went to that last party? What if I never met Struggling Athlete? What if I was capable of compromise? What if I put my career goals aside? What if I overcame Faith? Those damn What If bandits hit below the belt, and those imps like it!

I’m positive the What Ifs keep me up at all hours of the night thinking about things that I cannot change. And I’m equally positive my thoughts of him are photographs of yesterday that I can’t have tomorrow because time moves forward not in reverse. I understand it, but I don’t have to like it. Not for nothing, the mind also plays a funny game with you, allowing you to fantabulize the past into something it wasn’t. I wasn’t 100% happy with The Spaniard. I wasn’t! Ask any of my friends. But the What Ifs play a role here too. What if 70% happy is enough, how can one be 100% happy? It’s impossible because perfection outside of chocolate doesn’t exist.

So that was a hella long stream of consciousness and randomness I will get into the deets of the week right about now!

As mentioned I’m having a serious problem with sleeping. For whatever reason, I cannot find comfort in my bed, whatever conclusions you can draw from that let me know. Tuesday I avoided plans with Jon B. In the land of ho-ness there are few opportunities. The night I semi passed out was his missed chance at freakiness. Considering his intentional and calculated move from potentially datable to only freakable leave him very few openings for Faith-time. He is feeling the burn as evidenced by his multiple text messages and phone calls dripping of teen spirit aka desperation. He is losing cool points and cuteness simultaneously…a bad look.

In between Jon B’s slide from grace I avoided calls from Zack Morris. He smells of I’m Just Not that Into You! True I like nerds but his ongoing conversations about Sonic Burger and Saved by the Bell make me wonder if he majored in Serial Killer for undergrad. I am no one’s Criminal Minds episode mmkay!

On Friday I had plans with Pretty Skin. It was nothing major just a movie date. It didn’t require actual outfit thoughts, which was good because work shattered most of my brain fabric by mid afternoon. I’m just saying reviewing functions in excel is not my forte.

I met PS at his house, yup still not ready for that know where I live thing. Unfortunately he lives in one of my least favorite neighborhoods in Philadelphia, North Filthy! My siddity came out heavy, initial thought: Is my car safe? I pocketed that thought and pulled up in front of his house with a smile that faded extra quick. Insert doorag stage left. I don’t do doorags worn as fashion…we are not 18 anymore. He eased my irkness by stating that he meant to remove it before he came outside but forgot, then flashed his 1000 watt. I melt for a man with a great smile of which Pretty Skin qualifies. He dressed way casual, but still cute. Did I mention that PS is of the handsome bred that chicks of all ages swoon for, what luck!

We went to see Inception at the Loews in Cherry Hill. That was the first time in a long time that I saw a theater packed. Typically I go to Warrington to see movies to avoid the riff raff from the city. In any event, great movie! We saw the 9:05 showing and midway through the movie the sleep monsters started attacking. The movie was so incredibly good that I fought them off but not without leaning my head on PS’s more than capable shoulders. He gave me both a hand and leg massage during the flick. It felt natural, unrushed and I didn’t move his hand, maybe I like this guy…hmm!

On the drive home we talked about past relationship baggage. This is never good date convo but I guess it had to be done. I told him about my commitment issues, maybe it was too soon! He told me about his ready to settle down stories and how he wants to enjoy all part of being in a committed relationship with one special woman. Cap up, possibly but it did sound good despite my fear of waking up next to the same man every day of the week. We parted ways with a single kiss, nice lips! No sparks though, I fear it has something to do with my earlier ramblings, you judge it.

Shortly after driving off of Pretty Skin’s block I receive a text message from Jon B. I believe these two men have some weird telepathy. Seriously every time I’m talking to one the other calls or sends a text message. And it wouldn’t be so bad if their names didn’t rhyme. I guess that’s the powers that be idea of irony or sarcasm.

Anywho, as expected he was feeling out my chilling inclination! Believe me it wasn’t there. I’d just locked lips with PS and honestly felt some type of way about potentially locking fuglies lips with someone else in little over an hour. Bottom line I wasn’t feeling it, point blank period. I proceeded to tell Jon B a half-truth, that I was too tired to make it out for any “fun.” And it was true in part, you read my randomness above but you didn’t know that I’d been up since 3:30AM staring at the patterns the moon makes on my ceiling, playing the What If game and not winning.

He texted a joke about cuddling that I found funny. Then he texted something semi vulgar that sparked my interest, I shain’t tell a lie but I just didn’t feel like entertaining it. And more importantly I don’t like folk taking the ho stroll unless I’m right there walking the plank with him. I ignored the last message, which sparked a phone call. His voice is like butter, oh my frigging God! After the initial pleasantries he asked when we were getting together again. Earlier in the week I’d learned that Saturday was a no go for him so I said Sunday might be open if he so chose. He told me something about work but possibly switching schedules. I responded that it wasn’t that deep and he should keep his schedule in tact, we ended on Tuesday.

On Saturday I spent the day with Granny SJ, Wander and Pudding Pop, a close cousin. We went to the Hibachi grill. Awesome! I’d never been but upon walking in it reminded me of the Benihana I went to in Toronto. I tasted fried ice cream for the first time, quite an experience. Next week we’re supposed to get together again and hopefully Granny Frannie will be able to go with us as well. It was cool having a three-generation brunch/lunch.

Later that evening I packed a bag and made my way to the Best Friend’s house for her impromptu sleepover. Half of the Doublemint Twins was there along with Nurse Fried. We played truth or dare Jenga for shots of our drinking buddies, Vodka and Rum followed by a rousing game of Scattergories. Between the shots and scattering of Jenga pieces we discussed our favorite topic, men! By night’s or better yet morning’s end there were no conclusions. Men are as easy as they are complicated, and that is my final answer.

The combo of Jenga and Vodka resulted in me falling asleep on the Best Friend’s couch in my clothes. Luckily I was of sound enough mind to wrap my hair in my headscarf. Faith would have been a very unhappy butterfly come morning if this didn’t happen considering I’d just gotten the do tossed on Friday before my date with PS.

By midday Sunday everyone had surfaced with stomachs rubbing their backs. We crowded into a booth at Michaels, ordered breakfast food, bussed each other’s chops and talked men for a couple of hours. This is typical behavior after late nights with the girls.

After brunch I sent a text message to Pretty Skin to see how his trip down south was going to which he responded it was going well. In between my text back to him to ask when he was coming home, a text message came in from Jon B. I told you these two are like conjoined twins or something. I finished my textversation with PS before responding to Jon.

As luck may have it or not Jon B was off early from work and had a few hours to kill. Hmm, oh how I love being someone’s afterthought. It makes me feel all warm and tingling inside. Anywho I explained to him that I was in North Wales and wouldn’t be back to the city for a little while but I’d give him a call if I made it back early. He didn’t get that call. Believe me when I made it back home not even an hour after texting him I thought about calling but bailed on the idea relatively quickly. His windows of opportunity are closing fast…we’ll see what happens Tuesday.

After returning from vacation I settled back into my life of working until 8 at night. Old habits die hard people. But before you go all ape shit on me I was able to squeeze in some me time. And by me time I mean I was a regular chatty Cathy with a bunch of the gents from the summer line up.

Jon B and I were communicating quite well. We chatted every night before I went to bed making his the last voice I heard before shuteye. As the boys go he was making quite the impression. Every night was a new discovery of things we have in common, writing, music, politics etc etc etc. The cautious Faith inside says this man is too good to be true. I must keep his red flags front and center and of course remember he is one amongst in the summer o men.

By midweek it was clear a third date/get together was oh so necessary with Jon B. We agreed since he’d missed all but the season premiere of True Blood he’d come over Sunday early afternoon to get caught up on the older episodes and stay for the new one. I was schoolgirl giddy which is a sharp contrast to my cool as the other side of the pillow demeanor.

The Best and Nurse Friend said that with him coming over I’d most definitely lose our summer bet. The summer bet, Wander earmuffs, that for every week we go without having sex we have to add five dollars to the pot. At the end of the summer, if we all make it we’ll collectively use the money toward some group fun. If there’s only one frustrated chica left standing, she wins the pot. Oh yeah Wander you can de-earmuff now!

Unfortunately after setting up our date all communication ended between Jon B and I. No responses to my two feeler text messages. True I’m knocking the rust off my dating skills but I didn’t think I was that far removed. I thought I was reading his signs very well I mean how else should one take goodnight beautiful I will talk to you tomorrow. Clearly these days that’s code for I’m just not that into you! Such as life!

My initial reach out to Pretty Skin was via text. He was surprised to hear from me. That night at Copa I didn’t give him my number. Instead I elected to take his and ponder some more if I can stomach the whole I’ve been home from jail for 6 months. Hmm….if this ain’t a red flag I don’t know what is. I’m uncomfortable with the idea of dating or co-mingling with ex-felons. Of course before we judge a man by his past actions we must first know what those past actions entail. I mean the man did say, before getting caught in his double life, that he worked at an architectural firm in the city. He has the potential to jump right back on his feet, right? I decided to schedule an official first date with him Friday you know just to get a little more of his felony story.

My Friday was looking quite packed. Before agreeing to the date with Pretty Skin I’d set up to some time with the realtor to look at some properties in the city. This is my final step into adulthood. I figure it’s time to own something or let me rephrase pretend to own something while the banks sucks the life energy from my paycheck. I assume after I sign all that paperwork the last ounce of anything kid will ooze out of my body. I’m just assuming. The condos were nice but not what I’m looking for. The Realtor got a kick out my many jokes about boys and deduced that my square footage restriction will be 1200sq feet of mostly closet space. I need somewhere to house all these shoes and clothes and what not.

Anywho I bailed on my Tuesday date with Argyle Freak. He just wasn’t my cup of tea so I sent him off the island never to be heard of again. A-freaking-mazing body and all didn’t wool my eyes from his true intentions. Curiosity has in the past made me do some not mama proud things but I’m not 19 hell I’m not even 24 anymore so I can’t blame poor life decisions on being young and dumb. I’m sure someone else will fall victim to Argyle’s abs of steel.

I had random not sure if they are going anywhere conversations with Mr. Late Nite, Jamerican, Italian Stallion and Trini Man. Yeah I know I sprung some names on y’all but they are in the background dudes that I’m not sure will make it to prime time.

We called it a night around 2ish. I ignored the bouncer’s attempts to woo and walked back to the car unscathed by his advances with my girls. We’d decided to crash at The Best Friend’s house, alls yeah an impromptu sleepover.

Clearly we, me and The Best Friend that is, were not up for the challenge of the sleepover because as soon as I had hair in scarf my eyes closed. I was down for the count. And I do mean the count since I didn’t wake up until well after 12 in the afternoon. Now that’s not something I typically do, y’all know my battle with that biotch, Insomnia.

Anywho, Nurse Friend met the Best Friend and I at our favorite diner in North Wales. Since we’d canceled our trip to Ocean City due to inclement weather we needed to replace that with some equally fun thing for Saturday night. Ended on gambling in Chester. Not exactly the best replacement but we were working with limited options. And I really wasn’t in the market for hanging out in the city again. Don’t get me wrong there’s nothing wrong with the city, I mean I hearts the city in a major way but I’d played the city ticket all week and wanted to spice it up a bit.

Harrahs in Chester was just going to have to do. We parted ways for a few hours, so I could catch up on some e-mail from work and Nurse Friend needed to meet her family for her mom’s birthday celebration. By 9ish Nurse Friend was on her way to scoop me up so we could meet the Best Friend. My bestie was on point for driving since I’d played designated the night before.

Needless to say I didn’t win any money. Well let me not tell a lie. I won about $120 dollars but I ended up giving it all back to the casino. Nurse Friend did tell me to cash out once I was up but I just didn’t listen...hindsight is 20/20. Not counting the $120 that I gave back I only really lost about thirty bucks of my hard earned cash so I’m not gonna complain. Did you know they still have penny machines? It was a bunch of blue haired ladies with ciggies (cigarettes) and drinks pulling slots anxiously watching pennies (yes I said pennies) fluctuate.

Some troll at the bar kept making impromptu eye contact and I wasn’t feeling any of that. No cuties that night, but considering the growing roster that might not be a bad thing. My thought, summer o’ men should include a man for every day of the week. Is that being greedy?

Casino security harassed us for taking pictures, ugh what janky rules. I was actually told I needed to delete any photos, me thinks not! Oh did I forget to mention the drink The Best Friend spilled on me, and she wasn’t even drunk.

During our stint in the casino I could have sworn I saw Jon B saunter by with a less than attractive chic-let, competition. I like competition. Part of me wanted to swing by him so he’d see my hotness in comparison to the dud he had on his arm…jealousy maybe. Of course it might not have been him, or was it!

Once we’d gambled away our hard earned thirty bucks apiece we made our way to the car. I switched into some flip-flops for the ride home but not before we got our Ciara on in the parking lot dancing for no one but ourselves and laughing all the way. This is what I love about my friends always up for acting 12!

Overall the weekend was great! I hadn’t decided if I was ready to deal with Pretty Skin’s issue, if I would see Argyle Freak on Tuesday or when I’d catch up with Jon B. Of course there was Mr. Late Night in the background. Clearly this is going to be a productive summer!

Side note I had a very very interesting Sunday night text, cell phone and webcam conversation with Jon B. Spank him kindly for the oh so tasty pictures. Maybe he won’t stay in the friendzone. Only time will tell!

I was feeling slightly tipsy when I left the bar, way irresponsible I know. Since I hate waking up with alcohol on the tummy I decided to stop at the Wawa on Germantown Avenue in Mt. Airy to grab something quick to coat my stomach. Believe me the Wawa is a regular meat market after last call, not my intentions for going but eye candy is nice at any time of day or night.

There were a couple of cuties I saw giving me the eye when I was ordering my food but I didn’t pay it any mind. I quickly grabbed my slip from the counter and went to pay for my items. Mr. Late Nite was in front of me in the line. He turned around, nice shoulders, and said, “Damn you smell good. What is that you have on?” Never one to disappoint a fan I responded that I was wearing Chanel Chance. He said something like he was going to add it to his personal memory because it smelled amazing! Spank him kindly.

When I went to the counter to retrieve my sandwich Mr. Late Nite was still standing there. He started asking the usual questions one ask when he wants to secure another’s phone number. I began tabulating in my mind whether he could be added to the roster of summer potentials. My decision, yes for those shoulders alone he could gain admittance on the island.

Mr. Late Nite walked me to my car so we could exchange numbers. For whatever reason I’d left my cell in the car. Once at the car, I could see Jon B was calling. Probably checking to make sure I’d made it home, so sweet. Anywho I picked up the phone because I didn’t want Jon B to think I’d careened off the side of the road. Mr. Late Nite was quiet while I chit chatted and asked Jon if I could give him a buzz once I was settled and in the house.

After I hung up, Mr. Late Nite asked who I was talking to, to which I responded, some dude. I’m not into lies people and I don’t owe either one of these gents anything. Mr. Late Nite said he liked how smooth I handled the situation and respected me for not lying. Why lie? Either way we exchanged numbers and I made my way home. By the time I got settled it was around 2:30ish. I called Jon B back, promises must be kept, and we talked until about 4. By that time my eyelids were heavy and I had to get some sleep to prepare for ladies weekend.

Friday was packed with an ish load of errands. I woke up and cleaned the kitchen and bathroom while I waited for The Little Brother to come home with my car. I finished reorganizing my room, you know de-Spaniardizing. Once The Little Brother was home I made my way to the hair salon to get my do tossed. Side note my hair is on a growth spurt and I like it. I was slightly annoyed that my stylist was overbooked and I ended up waiting for several hours, the usual but for whatever reason I was irked.

After leaving the shop I headed down to the Urban Outfitters on 36th and Chestnut to see if I could pick up something cute for the night. Originally the Best and Nurse friend decided on Cuba Libre in Olde City but to be honest I wasn’t feeling salsa all night long, papichulos yes salsa no! In any event I was able to convince the girls that a nice low-key night out was far better. We agreed to go to Copacabana on 40th & Spruce. Side not I didn’t even wear the outfit I picked up out that night instead I opted for an oldie but goodie from my closet.

At first Copa was looking dead. I almost regretted my not so subtle suggestion of forgoing Cuba Libre. Once we got to the door we realized it was in deed in rare form inside, great! The doorman was giving me the eye but I wasn’t returning the favor. Sorry friend just not my type but he was nice and he carded us so my still looking under 21 card is still in effect, fantabulous!

The music was knocking; this is slang for good, carry on. The DJ spun a good mix of oldies and new school hip-hop and r&b. The vibe in Copa was nice. I ordered my signature and my friends ordered there’s. We were partying with our best friends, Vodka and Rum. Sometimes that’s all you need. Mid way through the evening Pretty Skin (PS) asked if he could join our trio.

My initial reaction was to blow him off because this was in fact girls night out but I had to remind myself, quickly, that it is also the summer of men. I didn’t want to be a cock blocker. Not to mention the man is easy on the eyes. He’s not what I would call a charmer but he did make me laugh a bit especially when Nurse Friend refused to shake his hand. He asked her if she was protecting herself from H1N1. Y’all know I have issues with shaking as well however I was fully prepared to anti-bacterial my hands once he left.

For whatever reason Nurse Friend was being a bit of a ball buster, not typically her lane. We reserve the busting of balls especially for The Best Friend. But I guess everyone has her night. At some point during the conversation that ice wall Nurse Friend was building came tumbling down. Could it have been the Vodka, one never knows. She was most definitely feeling a little nice because when PS asked her the best part of her former relationship she said the SEX. I almost spit out my drink for laughing so hard. No shocker to me being her friend and all but I was real horriprised sort of like seeing your grandparents knocking knees that she even said something like that to him.

Eventually PS asked if he could get my number. Before he revealed his little secret I was all ready to pony up, if he was in fact interested in me. There were three of us at the table all equally attractive; I can’t be that vain chick to think every guy wants me. In my mind they do but that is beside the point.

Anywho the man’s skin was glowing. I mean his skin was so smooth and so medium chocolate-esque I considered touching his face but I thought it might be rude. The Best Friend just came out and said something like you know your skin is gorgeous. She ain’t never told a lie! In any event I took his number to mull over if I can deal with his issue before he left us to return to his friend.

My highpoint of the night was when Nurse Friend stormed back to the table from the bathroom. As it turns out some sloppy whores where screwing some dude in the ladies room. Side note they could have been doing lines but me doubts it from the way they walked out, no eye contact after The Best Friend knocked on the door po-po style. Pretty Skin offered to watch the door while Nurse Friend used the men’s room. Now wasn’t that nice of him, trying to earn brownie points!

This will be the summer of men no doubt. If you speak these things into the universe sometimes the universe will give you what you want in return. Someone up there is smiling down on me….and I likes it!

So I had a double booking on Thursday night. An early test the waters with Argyle Freak and a late night chit chat with Jon B. I was looking forward to both for different reasons. To get up to speed read the prior post.

As luck or fate may have it, Argyle was way late getting back to me about what time we should meet up so I cancelled our plans in my mind. By 9PM it was entirely too late to squeeze him in before Jon B. Jon B and I were tentatively scheduled to meet for drinks at 11PM. Around 9:40ish Argyle sent a text message about just joining him at his house…hmm late night with Shemar Moore look-a-like probably not the best first date experience. Wander didn’t raise no hussies round these parts.

Immediately texted Argyle back and let him know I made other plans because he’d gotten back to me too late in the day. Clearly he was on his period because he threw a small tantrum. Men with women’s mood swings aren’t attractive however did I tell you how a-freaking-mazing Argyle’s body is…concessions can be made. After his b*tch-fit subsided we agreed to meet up Tuesday. Side note I am strongly considering kicking this one off the island though. I mean there is but so much concession in me and well, this is the summer of men. He is one amongst.

Jon B got stuck at work later than anticipated, I truly dislike waiting for people, and we didn’t end up meeting until 12:30. Did I forget to mention that Benson (my cat) destroyed the orange sweater I was going to wear? Part of me wanted to kick the cat but I decided against it.

Anywho we met at the Tavern on the Hill in Chestnut Hill. I ordered my usual, vodka and cranberry with a splash of pineapple. It is my signature drink. Jon B ordered Absolut on the rocks no chaser, a man’s drink. Granted I hadn’t had much food, when it’s hot outside I tend to eat less food it makes me hot or something, but my damn was that drink strong. After a few sips I was feeling a little too nice. I decided to nurse it for the rest of the evening as to not sound borderline retarded while holding conversation with the man.

We conversed about a number of things in particular legalizing drugs, great date convo I know. We debated the pros and cons and came to a general consensus that if alcohol is legal, also a drug, then why not open the lid on controlled substances. One of the early benefits of legalizing drugs would be a swift decline in the crime rates, mainly because trafficking won’t be considered a punishable offense. Two, there is already a market of highly intelligent salesmen and women to continue distribution. Three, and this is the one that should have wayward politicians skeeting in their seats, we could solve a lot of the social ills with the taxes collected from the sale and distribution of said controlled substances. I’m just saying, please don’t hate me for my politics. Consider this, you can never solve a supply and demand problem by attacking the supply.

Slightly before 2ish the barkeep yelled for last call. I was still nursing that extra strong drink and Jon B was yawning something vicious, not because of me but he’d worked a 13hr shift. We parted ways with a hug and his casual we should do this again soon. Hmm I’m feeling friendzone at this point, what do y’all think?

Back when the Best Friend was preggers with my Godson to be, I secretly hoped he would be born on my birthday. It wasn’t a selfish thought it was one of those I want to be an ultra exceptional God Mommy who shares her birthday with her special little guy…OK maybe it was selfish, whatever. Anywho it was what I wanted you know because me don’t wants little bundles. Trust my vicarious motherhood through the Best Friend and Wander has helped enough to pretty much scorch out any inkling of mom gene in me…believe it folks. Of course Fate/Mother Nature/Whatever Higher Power You Subscribe To decided it wasn’t meant to be. Instead my Godson was born 10 days after my birth making him a Libra (what kinda of jacked up sh*t…and who’s a Libra anyway no offense to the Libras in the house), I mean those Powers could have hooked me up with the same sign…bastards.

Now originally the Best Friend and Dapper Dan were having a bowling party at one of my favorite hang outs, North Bowl for the Godson but it was changed to an in the house party for the tots at Dapper Dan’s house…way low key…me likes. Well me likes besides the clean up that takes place after tons of little people run through a home all hopped up on Capri Suns and Candy. Kids are sadistic little something or others when they’re coming down off a sugar high…it is at this point I find the nearest parent and run for the hills.

When the good Lord passed out the mothering gene’s I was getting an extra dose of snarky or something…I don’t know!

While setting up the Transformer Streamers and trying to stop the Godfather from molesting me in front of the few scattered children and my Godson’s Granny I started thinking about what I was doing when I was five. Yup I had a nostalgia moment. It could have been triggered by some rather depressing news I received Friday from the Male Nurse Friend or it could have been the party itself that sparked the memories but for what it’s worth here it is.

When I was five I was on top of the world, not literally but you’re sipping my kool-aid I know you are. I lived at the time in a northern Jersey suburb…a cul-de-sac nonetheless with grass as far as my eyes could see and that space was my world so it was only right to be the princess of the castle. The Little Brother was but 1 and hadn’t quite developed that bow-legged cowboy walk that was his signature for years to come. He later outgrew the bow legged stride without braces or breaking of bones suggested by those Nazis doctors. The Man Wander Married I think was on tour in Japan but I had sweet memories of him (God how time and age change things) whisking me into his arms with brown lunch bags full of shoe strings and mary janes and any type of candy you could think of.

Yup I remember those Cabbage Patch sheets with Rainbow Brite kitchen set days with a fondness. I recall them with an air of I could do anything with my lifeness and optimism that later became active cynicism. At five no one thinks about the sadness that sometimes happens in life. It’s a good thing. It’s actually a wonderful thing. I mean of course some folk have jacked up childhoods and they’re probably not as stress-free as my early adolescence. Of course what came later wasn’t all peaches and cream but I can say that those Rainbow Brite days were fantubulously great. And really it could be because without having an adult understanding of some situations makes life a little happier as a kid.

Take for instance that only about half the folk that should have showed for the party made an appearance. Do you think this fazed my Godson…not a chance he was stoked to see all his aunts, uncles, random cousins and open gifts. Now his parent’s totally different story in particular I believe Dapper Dan yelled at his sister and told her not to come since she was over 3hrs late for a party that was only slotted for 3 hours.

If you can add you realize Dapper Dan’s sister showed after the party was scheduled to end…of course she wasn’t the only offender…damn I hate colored folk time…with a serious passion.

Anywho back to the title of this here posting…to be five again would be nice and if I could go back there I would hug the Man Wander Married one last time because he was a true dad then and I would eat a brown lunch bag full of candy with reckless abandon for my teeth.

So blog friends, blog lurkers and my faithful blog readers what would you do if you were 5 again?

Don’t let the happy title fool you; just kidding let the happy title fool you. While I didn’t get into any foolery this birthday thanks in large part to Juan who’s running quite nicely I might add I did have a pretty swell birthday.

It was way low key. My initial plans before Juan sucked up all my dinero were to go to NYC stay at the Marriott in Times Square, wake early on Friday morning and drag my still drunk/hung over friends to the Today show where I would parade my sign that said Happy 25th Birthday Faith… and in small print for the third time! Of course Al Roker couldn’t resist that sign and I would get my 1.5(not to be confused with 15) minutes of fame. It would be a cool thing to blog about as well, along with the whole shenanigans that took place in the city that never sleeps. It didn’t happen…there’s always next year.

Anywho the Best Friend tried to cheer me up by inviting me for a girls’ nite in (have you noticed a theme with her lately) at her place just a few of my chick friends and our love mates Vodka, Rum and Tequila. When I responded how depressing she said something like heifer I’m trying to help you out don’t get all uppity with me. Insert Nurse Friend who agreed that while we weren’t traveling to NYC we shouldn’t stay in tu casa. Clearly the Best Friend was out voted and we ended up at Ms. Tootsies eating soul food and listening to late 90’s and early 00’s hits.

Yes I is getting up there…90’s hits are actually considered oldies…when did this happen?

Ms. Tootsies, although kinda on the small side offered an ambiance I was with that night, real chill. I didn’t want to break all the rules and dance on tables, instead I wanted to sip libations, listen to subtle innuendo music and watch fantabulous folk decked in their weekend best. I put on a party dress and some get em girl pumps (not the original ones I wanted to wear they were off with the Little Brother and Juan writing rap songs God knows where) but enough of a heel to make me feel sexylicious.

Did I forget to mention that the bartender gave me a slice of chocolate cake special since I was the birthday girl…it was scrumptious and I thank him. Not to mention the free drinks…ah I heart birthdays!

And I guess feeling sexylicous showed because some random cop blew me a kiss. It was kinda odd and sweet/funny at the same time. Mr. Motorcycle drove down Nurse Friend’s car to give me his number so I guess that party dress and get em girl shoes were definitively working overtime. Not really into motorcycles but he is a serious cutie…will this be yet another pocketed number with no follow?

Oh and I must say thanks to Wander for spending Saturday with me. It was nice to get some face time with the Mombot. She seemed happier than usual….one wonders if the man she married has turned a leaf? She handed me a card from him along with a hearsay message that if I needed some help financially following Juan’s episode he was willing…interesting but no, I’d rather be broke.

When will he learn that money isn’t a substitution for dadhood.

On Sunday Nurse Friend and I came up with some new plans for New Years which involve Dapper Dan. Not sure how the Best Friend is going to take this news considering their on again/off again but mostly off again relationship. He’s still a DJ so we have to work the angles. Oh yes New Year’s party 2.0 is coming to a Westin near you…well not really near you unless you’re a Philly resident. And I promise I won’t get fumbling drunk this year….ok that’s half a promise!

Before I forget I want to say spank you very much to everyone who sent me e-mails FB messages, text messages wishing me a happy birthday. I felt all types of hearted and even shed a tear….I kid but I did feel all types of hearted.

Side note: I added music to the blog, is it annoying? Just wanna know peoples.

Well Operation Happy Hour ended on a sour note Friday. It started out pretty decent minus the semi argument the Best Friend tried to pull me into (hanging up doesn’t make me mad it makes me laugh…are you serious I thought we were adults). Ending my conference call early made the happy birds sing and gave me time to swing past the salon to get my eyebrows arched. Believe me I was all kinds of elated because the eyebrows were all types of werewolf, scary (blame it on the frequent flyer miles)!

On my way to the salon Juan (this would be my car) started this little stutter step motion and all of a sudden the check engine light began flashing. That is never a good sign. In between semi annoying text messages from both the Little Brother and Best Friend I called the dealership to schedule the 4th appointment this year for the car. Now I know what some of you are thinking 4th this year….seems like Juan might need to be taken out to pasture. Well guess what….not gonna happen because I plan on riding Juan until he can’t put out no more. Yep I am gonna work him harder than a gold digger during all star weekend.

Sadly the dealership couldn’t take the car until Monday. I saw a wonderrific weekend go down in flames. It was very sad not to mention I totally missed out on some swanky eats from the Alfa Bar, a cozy little spot where I imagined I’d feast on a goat cheese number and sip a little white wine sangria for my mentor, Dr. Diva’s birthday celebration. Clearly Juan had other plans in mind. All of which entailed keeping the apartment company all weekend long, oh so boring and nerve wrecking at the same time.

Luckily the Best Friend agreed to drive on Friday night to the Mission Grill but she’s such an early bird not to mention our late start caused us to miss Tall & Busty tend bar during happy hour. We made it home by 10PM, not exactly my idea of a night out. A cute guy kept giving me the eye but I wasn’t in one of those close the deal moods. I brushed him off and kept it moving.

Saturday was uninspiring, spent most of the day looking at the walls, besides spending a few hours with Granny SJ and Wander. Remind me never to allow Wander to drive me anywhere ever again. Trust this woman doesn’t know cars reach speeds higher than 30mph. My night ended on the couch answering text messages from randoms.

By Sunday I was somewhat annoyed with the whole car-less-ness of it all. And really I was probably wallowing in a vat of self pity because I could’ve easily called friends to get out and about but I didn’t want to. I wanted to fester in the despair of the car fiasco plus going out equaled spending dinero better served in my wallet in order to pay for the upcoming car repair.

It got so bad I even contemplated walking to the laundry mat just to break the confines…sad I know laundry is the absolute worst!

When one of my managers called insisting I help with some last minute deliverables…although aggravated I did it because well it wasn’t like I had somewhere to go. By 9PM I ended up watching the whole MTV Video Music Award stuff and was actually mildly entertained. Kanye West (don’t worry I have a stern letter prepared for him on Wednesday) needs a friend, I mean someone played Where’s Waldo with his hair which didn’t seem to cause him any concern and he made a total a$$ out buffoon of himself stealing Taylor Swift’s 15 minutes of fame. Beyonce, always the PR queen, made up for this by snatching 15 back for dear sweet Taylor at the end. Did anyone else notice B predicted her win? During the pre-show they asked her what award of the 9 she was up for did she most want to win and without any hesitation she said video of the year…low and behold she wins video of the year, conspiracy…I think yes.

Side note: Fly Eagles Fly….E A G L E S….Eagles!!!!! You can tell I was bored can’t you?

Hopefully this whole trip to the dealership doesn’t cost an arm and a leg….

Yeah so I summed it up in the title, there ain’t much happening captain. I did no traveling this week which actually was nice. I didn’t go into the office opting to work from the comforts of my jammies besides Tuesday. In actuality I decided to work from home more because Mailroom Boy worked my nerve on Tuesday and I just didn’t feel like having to be extremely rude to him. Sometimes I spare folks the roughness that can be my ‘tude, for this he should thank me.

Since I ain’t got much I should just spill how he worked that last nerve. Alright you all heard my little rant about missing the family bbq due to client work, well it spilled into this week and Diva no they didn’t save me a plate. (I am so un-hearted) Anywhosowhatsit, I’m furiously working on a client deliverable Tuesday morning, iPoding for focus really into a rhythm and didn’t need any frivolous interruptions. Even with Mailroom Boy’s looming appearance, the man is tall, I didn’t see him coming insert iPoding and client deliverable, I felt a presence. Damn it why the frig was he towering over my desk. I waved, flashed the 10 watt, continued to rock out to the dance grooves and put my head back into my work.

Did you catch my drift? I’m sure you did, I was busy…he didn’t because I still felt this mofo standing at my desk. WTF!!! Pause…deep breathe…no flipping allowed in the workplace! Pulled out the ear buds, flash a 5 watt and give the can I help you face, you know the one when the Jehovah’s knock on your door unexpected at 7 in the morning, yeah that face. He proceeds to go full on convo mode. Exsqueeze me? After not answering a question or two or three not out of rudeness but out of sheer I need to get this done-ness without any pointless interruptions he says something like, you’re not listening to me are you? Ding ding ding, you my friend deserve the gold star for intuitiveness….not! Moral to the story…work from home to avoid workplace interruptus.

Onto brighter pastures, or at least I thought. Since my actual birthday is coming ‘round the corner I decided to treat myself to an iPhone. Yeah I could wait another week and get one through work but with all those text message and application stipulations it just made more sense to get it myself. Alrighty then I played with the touch keyboard just to make sure I could get the whole swing of the no keys and to my surprise I got her done. Down side, you know my life there’s always a down side, AT&T and that whole 1 year policy for upgrades. Looks like I have to wait until next week anyway, story of my life really.

So TGIFriday...Happy Hour at the Mission Grill with the Best Friend, oh yeah she’s over that little grow up hooker comment. Not sure what the rest of the weekend will entail but single in the city is feeling all types of good right now.

If the powers that be are out there in the cyberspace listening to me rant, work sucks (I kid I kid, because momma needs her paycheck). But really work is getting to be the bane of my existence as of late (explains the week long hiatus from blogging). Not that I don’t appreciate some of the perks, frequent flyer miles and hotel points but what I don’t like, oh man what I don’t like is the complete and total interruption of my life for all things work inspired. All of Sunday and I do mean all (16 non sleep + some early Monday hours) were devoted to work!

Additionally I think Work is contributing to my all to frequent housemate Insomnia, but I could be wrong.

Yes yes I know I am a corporate ladder striver, but I am also a red blooded American chick who likes to kick off her work heels in exchange for a pair of get em girl pumps and hit the town. OK OK in Work’s defense I did have a hella good time Friday and Saturday night (thank you Vodka you always know how to make a night right) which could explain how Work kidnapped me Sunday and ruined my plan to attend the family bbq but alas, I need a rant and this here is gonna be one whether Work likes it or not.

Dramaticals…anywho I should have saved that business trip to LA for some other time considering that Model Friend came home for the Labor Day weekend (not like I really had a choice). As a result there was no tear-less, I miss you so much hug-fess (I am not a hugger by nature it really does take a lot out of me to conjure up a good one) because I’d just seen her the prior week. Of course Male Nurse Friend showed his entire a$$, this is really to be expected it’s just the kind of hand-job (excuse the vulgarities but he pissed me off this weekend) he is sometimes, and didn’t show for any of the welcome home Model Friend festivities. Of which were very few because well her trip home was about la familia, totally understandable. As the dorks we are we decided an early night bowling match and possibly a drink to say welcome home nice to see you have fun with the ‘rents yada yada yada.

Nurse Friend tagged along since well she and Model Friend get a long pretty well and I was on the outs again with the Best Friend for reasons unknown and well Nurse Friend is fun minus and we work well as wing women for each other, nuff said. Model Friend brought along her Equally Model Sister and for some reason bowling morphed into dinner when everyone realized we all skipped trying to make the 9:30ish deadline. Dinner was better because my stomach was rubbing my back by the time everyone arrived.

We ended the night at some in the courtyard type hide-out club in Northern Liberties (hipster up & coming neighborhood in Philadelphia) called PYT (Pretty young thangs, repeat after me I said Na Na Na, Na Na Na…I'll Take You There….oops digression). What I enjoyed most about this out the basement turned through the bathroom backdoor club was the DJ. Alllls yeah he played some pretty good blended music. When I say blended I mean a mix of the hip hop oldies but goodies and new school body rockers that had me and my friends on the dance floor shaking but not breaking what our momma’s gave us.

Side note both songs are equally dumb but a fun not gonna hurt no body dance song makes me smile regardless of my mood. I loves me some muzak therapy!

In any event that night Nurse Friend and I decided to meet up Saturday for service (I am not a Seven Day Adventist I am pray fo Jesus Baptist born and bred however my church offers multiple services so everyone can attend regardless the work schedule.) I personally prefer Saturday because it doesn’t involve the tomfoolery of gotta wear your best fo da lawd tomfoolery of Sunday. The message was on point and all was is well with my soul, which happened to be the hymn and one of my personal faves.

For whatever the reason we decided after service no doubt….did I mention the scruptilciousness of the security guard as we entered the house of the Lord (someone pray for me), to get some drinks. You know nothing like praying your demons away and chasing them down with Vodka. We ended up at Mixto some little Cubano/Colombiano spot in Center City where the waiter commented on the absolute perfection of my Spanish. Ah muchas gracias guapo que la práctica de vez en cuando or many thanks handsome I practice every once and a while. He wasn’t guapo but I can be a bit of a flirt or so I’m told. In any event we left there after some tasty drinks to a watering hole near UPENN’s campus called the Marbar. In deed Nurse Friend was correct. As the night wore on despite the alcohol the prospects grew shorter and uglier. Normally under the guidance of Vodka this wouldn’t be the case but ugly is definitely to the bone.

Sunday, as we know was monopolized by tons of work that I desperately needed to complete for the client by Tuesday. No thanks to my LA manager in answering my SOS e-mails begging for an extension given the IT problems I’d been plagued with for two weeks. My requests clearly fell on deaf ears. I finished the work thankfully by 5AM Monday morning but ended up missing the family bbq, grumpy tomato I think yes. The highlight or lowlight of Sunday whatever you wanna call it being accosted in the drive thru window of my local McStrokes by a cutie. This is not a good look friend…I am mangled looking like petrified WTF because I was trapped in my bat cave all damn day why in the good Lord’s name did this cute guy want my number, conclusion he must have issues. I did the double O fake out and told him to give me his instead.

Why do I take guys’ numbers that I have absolutely no intentions on calling?

When I woke Monday afternoon yes I said afternoon I loafed around the apartment doing absolutely nothing besides watching the Golden Girls marathon. It felt good for about three hours before I became restless and felt the hunger monkeys craving a greasy slice of Lorenzo’s pizza from this place on South Street. I dodged an invite from Mailroom Boy just didn’t feel like driving to his part of town plus he mentioned something about hanging with his daughter (not my preferred cup of tea) so I ended up on South Street picking up a slice. After waving hi and bye to Mr. Bengali, he still works selling clothing at a store on that strip, and taking the mental note damn he’s still hella sexy and without a doubt one of the smartest(which is sexier) men I’ve ever dated …but sadly plagued by circumstance (a little something called citizenship).

Seeing Mr. Bengali made me think of my lucky shirt and the reasons surrounding our break-up (age difference among other things). No sense in dwelling on the past, what shall be shall be but the man is hella smart and fantabulously gorgeous….hmmm rose quartz or libido…the juries out on that one!

So I am getting back into the groove of things. There’s but so much vacation in my blood folks. Mid-way through the week I fully logged back into work. Shoot me I am work-a-holic….some days. It could also have a lot to do with the friggin horrible weather I came home to. Thanks again Mother Nature I owe you one.

During the vacation I received word that upon return I would be hopping a flight or two to LA. Now under normal circumstances this would have been quite arse nibbling but as we know one of my bestest friends in this wide world, Model Friend, moved to the left coast. This “busines trip” provided the perfecto opportunity to catch up. Even with the Facebooking and Twittering updates of it all it still feels different that she’s not here. Which reminds me, I so need to turn my FB status updates off because getting Model Friend’s messages at 3AM on a work night aren’t all that fun anymore. Not that we spent every waking minute together because we didn’t but it was nice to know if I needed a sounding board I didn’t have a 3hr time difference to calculate.

Nurse Friend says I’m not allowed to cry when I leave Model Friend to board the plane back home. Nursie-poo-poo forgets I’m as tough as nails and crying is for babies and men who win championships, of which I am neither.

Anyway before returning from South Beach Nurse Friend and I decided we were going to this Black ‘n’ White party at the Double Tree on Saturday night. With any party, doors open for new shoes or a new dress or both. In this instance I had some fresh never worn get him girl pumps lying in wait ready to pounce out the box so I decided that a new dress would suffice. A trip to Urban Outfitters proved useful as I was able to pick up a cutabulous little number on Thursday. Jumping slightly ahead for the sake of time we never made it to the party due in very large part to the tsunami like conditions afflicting Saturday night in the tri-state. Again, Mother Nature giving me her ass to kiss, she should consider this post flipping her off in blog form. We are no longer on speaking terms!

Anywho let’s backtrack a taste. On Friday night The Best Friend asked if we could meet up for yet another girl’s night in. Uh sorry NO! Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy a little men suck every once and again just like the next muchacha unfortunately my body was craving some male attention and my wallet was screaming empty. Shoot me, we’re in a recession!

Somehow or another I ended up, late night on my way to display my fantabulous amateur bowling skills to Mailroom Boy. Unfortunately by the time we made it to the lanes they weren’t setting up any more games instead we grabbed a drink at the bar. A drink that was wasted as I watched the bartender wet his hair and slick it back with his hands sans gloves. Yeah major germ-o-phobe moment as I imagined his nasty greasy wet follicles floating in my Vodka with a splash of pineapple. Heartbreaking and it was too late to complain to management.

Yes I’m that girl when it comes to personal hygiene type things.

It was too early to call it an evening so we went to a diner to grab a late night snack. I opted for a piece of butter cream cake, which was all types of scrumptilicious I don’t remember what Mailroom Boy had besides a cup of tea, he claims he was cold providing a passable excuse for resting half his lanky body under mine. He was just on the edge of uncomfortable close but I let it go. We talked for what seemed like hours and really were hours, did I ever mention that the boy can talk. By the time I got home it was 4:30AM.

Mailroom Boy sent a great night as always text and have a safe flight which I thought was very cutesy. He told me he would miss me….I hope this guy doesn’t like me too much as I don’t see this ending in a positive light. My feelings toward him are very torn.

I sense snobbish tendencies creeping back up my spine…

One thing I did learn from The Man Wander Married, you should never sh*t where you eat! His words not mine, not that he followed them but then again he also said don’t do what I do, do what I say. Words to live by….I give great advice but have a hella hard time following it.

Maybe a slight dating hiatus to clear my mind is in order…so much for the Rose Quartz.

Again work pulled me off to some obscure location Friday morning. This time it required getting up at the butt crack of dawn. Luckily that is just my time so it wasn’t all that bad. Instead of my usual 5:45AM start I pushed it up a bit to 5AM on the dot. Truly no harm no foul considering I am an early bird, Granny SJ would be oh so proud.

Thinking about it I should give Granny SJ a call. I haven’t spoken to her in awhile….wonder if she’s still riding the Deacon…

Anywho I didn’t do a week in review post last week because well nothing material actually happened last week besides De-He Who Must Not Be Name-atized my room. It wasn’t that difficult…just some random artifact from Tunisia and removal of the ceremonious washcloth, towel and toothbrush.

Guess I should mention that while working by my lonesome at the client site in Jersey my mind wandered to He Who Must Not Be Named. I guess it was the isolation that made my mind race….not sure. It wasn’t a bad thought just a random WTF moment that passed as quickly as it came. Picked up the receiver but remembered he is away in Tunisia at his cousin’s wedding celebration, laughing no doubt. Considered leaving a narsty message but I left that thought right where it started and said, “Faith grow the f*ck up, this isn’t junior high anymore. Act like a frigging adult and stop wasting mind power thinking of vengeful plots and go back to work.” I actually said that out loud to myself…profanity and all, good thing I was alone…

Moving right along, after an unimpressive/impressive day in Northern Jersey the Powers that be released me early to scurry home and attempt to beat both the Jersey and PA traffic. Obviously the Powers and Mother Nature aren’t on speaking terms because mid way (or what would have been mid way through the ride home) I was stuck in an extra hr or so of traffic not to mention the mild tsunami outside my window. I did of course travel prepared and had umbrella ready, willing and able to do its part not to become the beginning of the end of my hair. We all know how obsessive I am about the follicles.

During the monsoon, Mailroom Boy sent a text asking if I was alright, given the treacherous weather and asked if I wanted to get together. Hmmmmmm At nearly the same moment (that’s really just dramatics but very close in proximity) The Best Friend sent an SOS text crying (if you could hear a cry in text form) that she needed a girls night in. You know where my loyalties lay. I cancelled plans with Mailroom Boy, abrupt I know but he understood.

Braving the element I stopped at the Wine & Spirits (those not punished to live in Philadelphia the Wine & Spirits store is the only place you can purchase alcohol) and picked up an old friend, Vodka. I was sure that The Best Friend had her sidekick Rum handy or possibly Tequila, not really a fan of either. Rum I just don’t like and well Tequila will have me taking my panties off faster than…well never mind me and Tequila aren’t girl night in appropriate.

Girls night in turned into Bitch-fest X or IX honestly I’ve lost count at this point. In general I am not a man-hater. Even though I grew up with the most despicable, deplorable representation of man possible in the Man Wander Married I still can’t bring myself to discount men totally. Maybe I am hopelessly romantic deep down or something. Anywho, the Best Friend opened up about Dapper Dan in a way I never seen coming. Alcohol confessions are the best. The long and short of it, without spreading her business in the streets because I heart her and this is my blog to revel the cutes and uglies of Faith not dish dirt about my friends, he stole something from her.

Not literally…emotionally. In the past I was quick to point out to The Best Friend and others that Dapper Dan should be given another shot at love. Unfortunately my friend felt otherwise and now I understand it is with good reason. Yes I already knew the jacked up, asshole dude things he’d done in the past but somewhere inside the core that is me I felt he truly loves her or else he was just a glutton for punishment. In any case and I am paraphrasing here she said that she gave herself to him in a way that was unlike any way she’d ever given or thought she was able to give to anyone (yes I know this has no back story and it won’t unless she cares to blog about it) and when he did the jerk immature things guys do he stole that part of her that she had given to him and she doesn’t think she will ever give that much again.

I wanted to cry for her but I am not big on tears. Well I did a little but she didn’t know. An empathy tear slid down my face that I buried in a pillow. After the confession I did mention that if she continues this way, he wins. I don’t want to see him win for the Best Friend’s sake. A little piece of my heart for Dapper Dan slipped away that night.

Saturday I cancelled on Mailroom Boy again. I know but I felt like the comfort of friends, people who’ve known me longer and get me without explanation. We caught a flick, The Orphan…good movie it was worth the ticket. We (The Best, Nurse Friend and I) ended up at our favorite diner breaking bread and telling jokes. It felt like old times…rarely are all three of us together, sort of our own Golden Girls minus 30 years. We hashed out some more relationship ish and I floated away to a memory of Future Husband and returned (all unnoticed by my friends) to the convo without spite…that’s a first.

Growing up…maybe…taking my own advice….possibly…When I can write the post about Future Husband I know all of “it” whatever it is will be gone….

Sunday we bowled to victory yet again. We are the team to beat, booyah! Since I’d cancelled nearly three weeks in a row with Mailroom Boy this weekend would make it four so instead I stuck to my word and took in a late night flick, The Collector, also a good movie and worth the ticket. I laughed in the face of my 5:45AM alarm and spent the entire movie (minus the time when I was watching and exchanging flirty banter) thinking about why I was there and if I could see any possible future with this man. I didn’t get any answers.

We spent an additional hour or so in my car having quiet conversation (man is he a talker). He told me that he liked my dress. We talked a little about our families…mostly surface stuff with morsels of depth. I mentioned my un-comfortableness with our work situation. He smiled and said that would explain some of my behavior and how long did I think it would take for me not be uncomfortable….no answer. He could see my wheels turning and he kissed away those thoughts but by the time I got home, close to 2AM, they were ripe on my mind again…



Side Note: The could be completely incidental and maybe the person realized he/she didn’t really like my writing style but I lost a follower after the whole Obama race post….guess I can’t please everyone.