After a small (ok extended with little stops in between but no major dating since Mr. Bengali) hiatus from the scene I am jumping back in the saddle. That's right people the FF (fierce flirt) is back in action. OK OK I actually feel edged, pushed damn near thrown into the saddle kicking and screaming. Reason being, I'm tired of Little Brother's sneaky little thoughts of lesbianism and Wander imagining lonely nights surrounded by eight or nine felines. Honestly she knows I would prefer canines, kitties are so sneaky but I digress.
In all actuality it comes at a time when I normally dump the phone of old, used up never gonna call them again numbers and re-up on fresh entries. Every new year the resolutuon remains the same, New Year New Dudes. Insert-Mailroom Boy, yes I think I will give him a chance, if he shows face at the holiday soiree. Yup folks that's personal growth in a little less than a month I've swallowed the big girl pill and come to terms with my issues see
this posting. The Best Friend would be so proud. Oh to be honest maybe I took half the big girl pill because I also had some all up in his business conversations to confirm he's more than the surface.
And he likes icecream, that's always a treat right?
Preparation for the date tonight with Jersey Boy is needed. Side note should I take this Noreaster-ish weather as a sign that I should remain in my self induced non dating status?
Hmmm, I wonder!!!In any event, I must brush up on the Faith do's and don'ts of first dates.
Do's:
- Choose a comfortable place (semi familiar to both parties so no one gets lost)
- Be on time (this is not a job interview but it's rude when people arrive late especially with no warning text or phone call)
- Remember to smile and give eye contact (no one wants to feel like he/she is out with a serial murderer or some mad scientist-unless you're into that and if so whatever floats your boat row)
- Ask semi in-depth questions that spark conversation (respond when someone talks and listen to the other person's answers-uncomfortable silences are reserved for relationships not get to know meetings)
- Always set a time limit beforehand so there's no oddness or weird moments at what appears to be the close of the date (but don't double book (double bookings are reserved for already established relationships) in case it's going really well and you might want a night cap)
Don'ts:
- Don't wear your freakum dress (yes skanks that means you put the ta tas away for one night and be a lady-it won't kill you)
- Don't answer your cell phone or respond to text messages all night (yeah this is real rude and makes it look like you're dis-interested in the date which could be true but there's no need to show your ass)
- This is a major don't-whatever you do don't monopolize the conversation (no one likes an arrogant know it all)
- Don't forget your wallet (this goes for men and women, while in the years of dutch dating everyone should bring reinforcement-although men chivarly goes a long way don't expect the girl to pick up the tip just because you took on dinner and girls don't expect dinner to be forked up by the gent ah equality it burns)
- DON'T GET DANCE ON THE TABLE DRUNK!!! (I don't think this needs any further explanation and I stole this from Nurse Friend's Handbook not that I don't agree)
This is the short list and I have the non freakum dress outfit picked out and ready to go for tonight if I brave the weather. Wish me luck folks for getting back on this stead and riding him into the stable.
Oh come on people not literally-ha!
Yeah yeah yeah so yesterday was Wander's birthday. No she didn't get a surprise party, why because it's too close to Christmas and she's been working insane hours lately. I did get a her a little something something because hey I've listened to the stories of being slighted given the proximity of her birthday to Christmas. Besides Wander is a cool Mom as mothers go and she deserves that special birthday girl feeling.
And that brings me to the question of the day, as you get older do birthdays matter more or less? Considering my quarter life crisis I tend to sweep birthdays under the carpet because they exist as a constant never ending reminder that I'm aging. Case in point, my 25th birthday for the second time. Come now people three times' a charm and bottom line I'm refusing anything above a quarter century. Doesn't that sound old enough? I never used to be this way, of course I was younger so it didn't matter.
By the time I turn 40 I don't want people saying anything about September 18th. Hint hint. It should blow by like any other day on the calendar as to not draw attention to that ever reaching number called my age. People keep screaming you're only as old as you feel. Well dammit some days I feel old as hell so that's not doing me much good. Especially when radio personalities announce that they're about to put on an oldie but goodie and
this comes on. In my mind Boombastic came out yesterday but the little voice in my head screams yeah if yesterday was 1995. WTH that was 13 years ago, like half my damn life where does the time go?
It feels like just yesterday I was duct tapping my boobs into my prom dress. For the life of me I can't total recall 9 years of memories from then. It's just one mish-mosh of events that while I know yesterday I worked from home on some files reviews also feels like I was the editor-in-chief of the year book. Yes I was a super dork get the laughs out now. And really it's totally beside the point. All swans were once ducklings.
And you know what else gets under my skin and makes it feel saggy like an old hag my sister doesn't even know what a rotary phone is or looks like. Oh and to even drill the point home, my Godson probably thinks the B side of the tape is some type of double stick adhesive. Tell me you remember the B side of the tap.
Oh dammit to hell I thought I was talking about Wander's birthday!
Going through this quarter life crisis doesn't help when family and friends add to the mayhem and foolishness of it all. At a minimum of two times a week my brother, Jamil (not be confused with Jamal), and I steal dinner from Wander's kitchen. Bottom line here folks I loathe grocery shopping and am not the least bit interested in cooking. Not that I can't cook, because I make a mean baked ham and my fried chicken is to die for. Oh yeah I can throw down when I have to which I reserve for holidays and the like. No reason to flex the cooking muscles when they're not needed. But anyway I could care less about cooking and I am not my brother's girlfriend so I am not responsible for his stomach. Oh God I just had the worst incestuous thought which I am going to blame on Wander because she hurt my feelings the other day. And now we've come back full circle haven't we.
Anywho while thieving yet another well cooked meal from my mother she randomly mentioned that I should consider letting one of my friend's boyfriend hook me up with one of his friends. Shocked and a bit winded by the comment I proceeded to ask plainly if she was saying I needed to find a man. Jamil in the background chirped that's what he heard. Siblings are such instigators. And see I say this was randomly because we weren't talking about me and my lack of a steady boyfriend. Before I jump all over Wander's case in her defense she never sees any of the guys I, how shall I put this so when she reads this she doesn't yell, "date." I tend to keep my private life just that, private. There's really no good reason for my mother to meet people who are for lack of a better word tools. No sense in getting her cultivated locks in a knot over some dude I intend to give walking papers. Oddly in my head that last line had quite the ring to it, now it just sounds really really cocky, such as life.
Ok so I will let you in on a little secret, since getting my new job (back in April) I just haven't felt like dating. OMG I'm committing a mortal sin saying that out loud as a living breathing 27(cringing) yr old woman. I told my brother that the other day and he asked me if I was gay. And see this is why I don't share! How rindonkulous is that? Just because I'm putting men on the back burner I'm now all of a sudden a lipstick lesbian (you know cause I'm out of that tomboy phase I can't go all buzz cut and slacks lesbo). Rest assured family and friends I am not into woman, that's not my twist. All my lesbian readers that isn't to say that there's something inherently wrong with you I just don't flow that way, you know the only kitties I enjoy are my pets, Benson & Stabler!
Just when I thought I was getting the quarter life crisis ninjas off my back they somersault right back in with a stinging comment from my mother. I'm sure Wander had good intentions, she doesn't want me to be alone or some nonsense like that. Of course I do have two cats but I am in no way picking up a knitting habit, at least not yet and I don't even have a craft box like someone who will remain nameless. I mean I could see if I was depressed and crying on her shoulder like mommy am I ugly no one wants me. That is so un-Faith like. Maybe I can hire a date to meet my mom so she feels better...oh shit I forgot she reads this, now she won't believe me when I do introduce her. No worries it ain't that important anyway.
Am I going to end up with ten cats and a knitting habit, damn that quarter life crisis rearing it's ugly head.
In true helpful daughter fashion after a grueling day in the office creating org charts (this is a whole other story) I swung by my mother's house to take her to Tar-jay. As I pulled up yelling the usual Wander (her name is Wanda but we have this running joke to call her Wander like my Grandmother) why don't you answer you're phone, she was already in rare form. The culprits: her neighbors to the left (and now that I think if it, they could be considered her neighbors to the right it just depends on how you're standing on the porch). But I digress.
"See this is what I'm talking about.." Basically whenever someone in my family starts a sentence this way I know there's gonna be something really serious or really funny coming. In this case it was a combo of the two, my mom found to be very serious and I found it to be very funny. I hopped out of Juan Carlo(my car) to see the rig-a-ma-role. From the porch I looked down as my mother angrily turned off the faucet in the front lawn. Between the mumbles I was able to make out that this was in fact the third time in the matter of a few wks she'd come home and discovered water slowly covering the front patio-ish area. Granted it wasn't forcefully spitting out of the hose (in all honesty I probably would have missed it if she hadn't pointed it out) however, to her point God only knows how long the water's been running.
Since I am naturally a smart ass, I calmly said to her that if she didn't want the neighbors using her water hose any longer maybe she should take it from out of the front yard all together. This was said in the truest sense of a joke, however, Wander thought this a great idea and proceeded to unscrew the hose from it's home all the while mumbling something like, that's right you won't steal my water no more. Barely containing my laughter, as my mom attempted to tuck the green tubing underneath her arm I barrelled into the house with my laptop bag, her laptop bag and her pocketbook.
Inside the rantings continued. My sister who was sitting on the couch watching TV perked up to listen. I attempted to explain to her that obviously the neighbors had used the hose again before my mother went into banshee woman fury yelling, "The last time she used my damn porch she left her dirty ass grill out there for wks which left grease all over the place. Do you think she even bothered to clean it up.....huh....hell no she didn't but you know what she did do, she moved her grill to her grass. Like that makes a difference. Grease is still on my porch and now it won't come out. Did I complain? No I didn't say anything, you know trying to be neighborly. And you know what....I know it was her. I know it was her. And you know why I know it was her....huh...because Marcus(across the street neighbor) told me it was her. That's right the other day Marcus said that he was trying to figure out why Billy (culprit neighbor's son) was in my damn yard. Now I know. But you know what, I knew it was them anyway. Ain't no body have to tell me it was them, cause I knew. See I would be wrong if I just...you know what..." Then she stormed up the steps to talk to my rehabbing father (out on workers comp so ironic I know and yes another story that I will have to tell). I guess our silence made her even madder, go figure. I was too busy quelling the laugh in my gut to speak.
From downstairs I could hear the inflection of her voice but not the words. My sister and I looked at each other and began laughing with the you know you're mom is crazy look on our faces. It only took a few minutes before she came charging down the steps. This time she picked up the phone and began dialing my grandmother. Honestly I don't think she said hello and the conversation went much like the rant from earlier. Of course this time my sister and I were free to chuckle as she told it because she wasn't officially talking to us. Once finished thoroughly blowing up my grandmother's eardrums she hung up the phone with a thud.
"Oh you know what..." she said as she charged out the front door. Again my sister and I gave each other the look and began laughing hysterically. Popping off the couch, my sister ran to the window to get a better view. I could vividly see her pounding on the neighbors door and violently pushing the bell in my head, which my sister confirmed through snickers. About 2-3 minutes later, after tiring of the knocking and the ringing of it all, my mom burst back into the house still in rare form.
"Yeah see they gonna play that game, like I don't know they home. OK, I got something for that," she said as she ripped a piece of computer paper from the printer and began furiously writing a note. By now it was too hard to stop the laughter and I asked if I could see it before she planted it on the neighbor's doorstep. She flung the letter at me and I read as she nicely wrote something like please stop using my water. I came home three times and the faucet was still running. Thanks Wanda. Cracking a smile at this point, I asked if she felt it was necessary. The look on her face proved it obviously was and why would I even question her.
After my quick read she barrelled back out the door and placed the letter in the mail slot for the neighbors. Oddly when she returned she had a sense of calm on her face. I guess the letter leaving made her exhale or something. She proceeded to ask me, " So do you think I was wrong?"
Insert laughter here
