2.31. Random Guy Message #402

2/11 –

Guy: Hey I’m B****

Guy: I would really like to talk and see what happens 🙂

Me: If we don’t talk, that should tell you exactly what’s going to happen

Guy: Ouch. Thanks for the honesty! (He doesn’t mean that).

2/17 –

Guy: You always this mean?

2/18 –

Me: When did honesty equate to being mean?

Guy: When its not said in a sweet way 🙂

Guy: You want to talk or not?

Me: I’ll write that down.

Me: Didn’t my previous message make it clear I didn’t?

Guy: Nope (I think he’s slow)

Me: Wow, you don’t follow along well, do you? Nope, not remotely interested.

Guy: Right on

2/27 –

Guy: Change your mind yet? 🙂

Me: No, and this is getting pretty old. I guess you like blocks, huh

Guy: I don’t know….never taken a black girl out.

Guy: Would like to though

Me: Do you actually read profiles? I’m not black. I’m Puerto Rican.

Guy: I saw that. You asked

Me: That doesn’t answer my question. If you saw that then that means you can read and if you can read then you would know I’m not black. So wanting to take a black girl out…you’re barking up the wrong tree.

Guy: Okay let me rephrase that. I have never taken any girl that wasn’t caucasian, but I would like to

Me: And that’s just great. It’s just not going to happen with me.

Guy: What do you have to loose by talking to me?

Me: My time, which is precious to me.
Listen, you’re probably a real gem. A catch. Prince Charming to some chick. You’re just not what I want. Not only am I not physically attracted to you but the extent of this conversation tells me that I would annihilate you. It’s nothing personal. I just know what I want and what I don’t want. I’m not here to fill your curiosity for what it’s like to take out a non-white girl. Good luck in finding that.

Me: Now I see why you are single. Later

OMG! Thank you sooooo much. I just got schooled as to why I’m not in a relationship. Because I won’t talk to fuglies who have brown girl fetishes/can’t read/and are thirsty as a motherfucker.

Guess I’ll be single forever. Gladly.

2.28 – Digital Dating Diary (Entry1)

Real messages from real people showing really sad attempts…

“Your son is very handsome , your not so bad yourself, im a single dad, business owner, and looking for someone to hang with in the little free time I have, so if your interested in rich Italian guys message me back”

“-May your wings lift you to the top of the world”

“Yet, a true happiness calls through the shadows of my loneliness stirring my heart to take again another chance risking pain once again….oh how I must find pleasure in the pain.”

“Priceless, you’re priceless!! No dollar amount can buy the joy & happiness you bring. You are the first lady worthy of a king, my queen. The moment I set eyes on you, I knew I would fall. You make it better! lets chat sweetheart, i would love to get to know U”

“Damn Lil momma any way u dig white boys”

“I wanna know you”

“Hello how are you doing and what movies do you like seeing and things like to do for fun maybe bowling; dancing; mini golf; playing pool; darts or anything fun like that just asking………………..”

“Hey I’m Brandon. I read your profile and you cought my eye. What is the first thing you look for in a guy? How’s was your weekend?”

“Hi i probably have no chance but i thought id balls up and message u and tell u wow”

“Wuz up. How u doin? Thought mayb we can chat n talk a lil get to know eachother hit me up.dnt b a stranger get at me”

 

I might be a bitch for how critical I am. But I’m not hoping for some random guy. I’m not hoping for some fair weather connection, intimate encounter, or sugar daddy. I want to fall head over heels in love. And so I wait…and laugh in the meantime.

2.19. What NOT To Say

The world of dating can be many things: intense, problematic, interesting, frustrating, exciting. It can also be humorous. Very, very humorous. One percent of the time, I’m shocked by the audacity of people and their one liners, egos, and use of poor grammar. The other ninety nine percent of the time…I’m laughing. It’s just that ridiculous. Without further ado, I present to you what NOT to say.

U iz gorgeous babe Love the use of “iz” in this one. 

U a model This one is SUPER original. 

…btw, i’m good in bed…  – I can’t make this shit up. 

But the most impressive of all has to be this one, left just as is for your laughing pleasure. 

u TRUELY are gorgeous.. jm going to ger straight to the point… im from Kansas City, but im in the military livinv in Ga. im getting ready to deploy to afghanistan in 5 weeks.. im only lookin for a wife potiential. u dont due friends though if the person is honestly going to live up to the true meaning of a friend… id accept.. but i want a wife…

He wants a wife…who knows how to spell since he is obviously incapable of doing so. And he’s going to Afghanistan…no wonder other countries think Americans are absolute morons. Please, dear sir, if you ever happen to read this and recognize your own words…don’t procreate. Seriously…don’t.

1.150 – The Case of The Missing Keys

My son is pretty damned awesome. He also makes me have frantic moments of mommy brain. If you’ve ever had a child, you know what this is. You forget where everything is, you’re always late, you can’t keep track of anything AT ALL. My life is like a Where’s Waldo puzzle except I don’t even know what the hell I’m looking for half the time.

Today was definitely one of those days.

So, I’m getting ready for work and I’ve got the little guy all set and ready to go. Except for the fact that I can’t find the keys. I need the keys to lock my door and to start my car…they are kinda crucial to my day beginning.

Mind you, I’m in the middle of moving so the majority of my stuff is on the floor or in boxes. I recall my son holding the keys last night before we went over to the new apartment but he didn’t take them with us. So that negates the possibility of them being in the new spot.

So I call my boss and tell her “my son hid my keys, I will be there as soon as I find them.” I’m thinking, this is going to take me…at most…10 more minutes. I was SERIOUSLY wrong. After 30 minutes, I have scoured the living room, dining room, kitchen, bedrooms, and bathrooms. After an hour, I have checked the new apartment, the car, the refrigerator, the dishwasher, the sinks, even the toilets.

I’m in full blown panic mode. I call my boss back. I want her to know that I’m seriously trying here. I didn’t plan on being late, damn it, I can’t lose hours at work, I’m seriously stressed out, dear God why is this happening to me? My son walks up while I’m on the phone and I look at him and tell him he is a bad child. I know he’s not but in that moment, I’m convinced he might just be out to get me. Hell, the boys peed in my eye…He’s holding a grudge about something.

I keep looking, texting my sister as if this will somehow solve my problems. She tells me to check the couch. Did that. Finally, I’m getting down to my sons level, asking in a shaky voice “dear child, where did you put the keys? Show mommy where the keys are, okay? Can you do that for mommy?”

“Keys,” he says.

YES!

He runs into the next room and I follow. Yes! He’s going to show me where he hid them. He stops, turns toward me and puts his hands up. “I don’t know.” I am full blown crying. I’m imagining losing my job, being poorer than I already am, having a nervous breakdown and drowning myself in a pool of WTF. All the while, my precious child wants to know if we can play with cars. NO, NO WE CANNOT PLAY WITH CARS. What we can do is find the keys so mommy can drive the real car so you can go to daycare and I can go make money to buy a damn key locator!!!!!!!

My sister texts me: Did you check the trash?

I’m already on the first bag. I call my sons father to see if he has a spare Jeep key. Not that it will do me any good today but hell, I’m trying to figure out how I’m going to get to work on Friday now. Because today is looking like a lost cause. I hang up with him and go back to trash picking.

Yesterdays food, something I cannot identify, soiled diapers, is that oil, wtf is that on my hand? I would never have made it as a trash collector. I can wipe my sons ass, I can clean up blood and vomit. I cannot pick trash.

I’ve about lost all hope until the bottom of the third bag. EEYORE! That’s my Eeyore key chain. HOLY FUCKNUGGETS! MY KEYS! MY KEYS! PRAISE BABY JESUS IN A PINK FRILLY TUTU!!! THOSE ARE MY FUCKING KEYS!

And then I start crying again. I call my boss and try to hold it together as I tell her I found my keys BUT I have to take a shower because now I smell like shit.

I was two hours late to work.

In hindsight, it was funny. In the moment, it sucked donkey balls. I know it’s my fault for leaving the keys in range of my curious two year old. He’s not a bad kid. I’m just a dim-witted mom trying to move. I still think I need to buy a key locator thingymabob.

And the next time this happens, because of course it will, I’m checking the trash FIRST.

1.121 – 10 Days

For ten days, the muse flowed through me. For ten days, I saw the muse in every face, every situation, every structure. In every towering building, in the bottom of a frothy cappuccino, in the legs of a crisp wine, in the delicacy of fine cuisine, in the melody of a subway musician, in the warm embrace of an old friend, in the halls of the old concrete that once haunted me, in the faces of childhood friends, in the packed subways, in waxed figures, in soothing massages, in a game of pool, in the giggles of a walking down the street, on a strangers front steps, in a hot shower, on the faces of children playing, in the silence of the night and the chaos of the morning.

I saw the muse in family, friends, strangers. I felt the muse surge through me and break all boundaries. In tears and smiles, moments of uncertainty and moments of clarity…I felt it. And for someone who travels through this life with a fear of being numb…I don’t regret a single moment of that feeling. The beauty of the city hypnotizes me, welcomes me, warms me, enlightens me, changes me. And I am certain, it is my home.

1.116 – Never Grow Up

He will be a mess

playing with his food

pretending it’s a volcano of peas and carrots

He will thrust himself to the floor

because not getting a toy

really IS the end of the world

in his eyes.

He will say no

and mean it

despite your inability

to realize he has

an opinion.

He will yank off his clothes

and profess his undying love

for nudity.

He will ask for the coolest

most expensive clothes/shoes/technology/toys/fill in the blank here

and hate me

when I say no.

He will laugh at inappropriate times

and touch EVERYTHING in sight

because his palms have eyeballs

that only he can see.

He will be the ruler of a far off kingdom no one knows about

the slayer of dragons and a makeup artist

trying on my makeup and shoes without any thought

of orientation and those labels of gender the world

is obsessed with.

He will have an imaginary friend

that knows all of his secrets

his hopes and dreams

that which I will struggle to keep up with

through the years.

He will wiggle and jiggle and roll and tumble

climb and crawl and run and dance

and sing when silence and stillness is in order.

He will color on the walls

and call it art

break the most expensive thing in the house

and blame the dog

we dont have.

He will fib

because he’s scared of diappointment

make up stories

and call it truth.

He will stay up way too late

wake up way too early

take up way too much of the bed

and piss it twenty minutes before the alarm is supposed to go off.

He is accident prone

needy

hyper

confusing

grumpy

and all sorts of exhausting.

He is lovable

brilliant

pure

imaginative

expressive

perfection.

He is the magnificence of childhood.

1.112 – My Loves Contract

In order to be myself…I am willing to be by myself

I will not claim perfection but relish in the beauty that is my chaotic mind, heart, and soul.

I will not stifle my words, emotions, thoughts for the sake of fitting in.

I will not tread lightly to fit any gender roles.

I will grow towards the sun.

I will rest beside the moon.

I will not give of myself physically for the sole sake of pleasing another.

I will not fake a smile, a tear, an orgasm, a laugh for the sake of anyone’s ego.

I will not be fooled to believe that every love story is a long story.

I will not settle for a punchline.

I will love with my whole heart when it is deserved.

I will not let everyone behind my walls.

I will not hold anyone captive within the walls.

I will not say what needs to be said just to “play the game.”

I will not treat anyone like a predator.

I will not be anyone’s prey.

I will not pretend to care when I don’t.

I will not pretend to not care when I do.

I will indulge in a kiss like it’s the first time.

I will not waste away my years trying to fill anyone’s voids.

I will not be a walking tomb.

I will never replace/become “her.”

I will allow vulnerability to overshadow my fears.

I will be honest about my insecurities.

I will not let them haunt me.

I will be myself.

I will be alone.

I will be okay.

I will sign on the dotted line.

X…………………………

1.100 – One Hundred Kisses

Following my muse has worked out pretty well so far. I can’t see any reason to change the formula now.
Chris Van Allsburg
I have always believed that good conversation was a chess game, good sex was like a dance and everything in this life is a muse. To kiss the muse is to embrace the good, the bad, and the ugly as divine inspiration. To celebrate 100 posts, I happily share with you a list created from the contributions of a very diverse group of people. 100 faces, 100 souls, 100 lives worth living. 100 reasons, 100 muses, 100 kisses. You will never decipher which is the single mom, the accomplished writer, the veteran, the big wig, the straight, the gay, the poor, the rich, the lone wolves. The muse touches all walks of life, with a delicate brush of pure lips to the heart – setting ideas and thoughts aflame. Seedlings growing from nothing into that which forces our world to move.
…There was a hiccup. Only 18 of the almost 125 people I messaged for input responded. I could be discouraged and say…I can’t complete the 100 kisses without help…but it’s the new year and a new mentality – nothing is going to stop me.
Without further ado, 100 kisses.
From me to you.
  1. The first time
  2. A beautiful woman
  3. Volunteering and selfless donations
  4. Music inspires me to be present in a community of sounds all speaking a piece of a whole truth.
  5. Learning from my past and not repeating the same mistakes and always trying my best in any situation.
  6. The fact that I’m a sinner, but was saved by grace. I’m constantly humbled by that fact.
  7. The strength i did not know i had. the struggles have taught me to survive when i didnt think i could and have pushed me to do better for myself. my strength allows me to be strong for myself and for others.
  8. My biggest inspiration and motivator is a fear of death. That once I’m gone nothing will be left of me but my words/ thoughts.
  9. The desire to take that idea in my head that I know will entertain.. and to give birth to it on the page. It’s as natural a desire, to me, as food or sex.
  10. Fear of being a failure. making sure i leave a legacy behind
  11. The only thing that inspires me to do better is my boys. If I couldn’t have a baby I think I would have fallen off the wagon.
  12. I’m inspired by two things, the only things I feel we need: Friends and Family
  13. Life inspires me. There is so much to learn, to experience, to see, to live, and so little time.
  14. the fear of failure, and the possibility of failure. That i wont achieve what i know i can and i will come up short of the person i want to be. I fear failure and what i will never have if i dont achieve.
  15. A warm summer day in the back yard. Drinking a can of Dr. Pepper and thinking about the projects I plan to tackle today.
  16. Someone who is so passionate about what they believe that they will die for it, understands why they believe it, and lives like they are on fire for it. That’s the kind of person I want to be.
  17. The way music can connect people in a way that words and emotions can’t. Ethereal chords that echo through one’s soul filling it with immense peace. Harmonies shared between people that say, “Your heart understands mine.”
  18. When I go to the park and swing I imagine my whole life ok stable an free
  19. Laying on someones chest while they hold me, while listening to their heartbeat. For some reason hearing that makes me forget the bad, at least for that moment. Makes me appreciate the little things more.
  20. Sex
  21. Power
  22. Fame
  23. Money
  24. Italy
  25. Fine Cuisine
  26. Down Home Cooking
  27. Bare feet
  28. A cool spring evening
  29. A rainy afternoon
  30. A snowy day, curled in a blanket
  31. The moon
  32. The sun
  33. The stars
  34. Books
  35. Writers
  36. Painters
  37. Dancers
  38. Musicians
  39. Actors/Actresses
  40. Cinema
  41. Theatre
  42. Falling in love
  43. Breaking up
  44. Tears
  45. Broken glass
  46. Thunder
  47. Lightening
  48. A crack in the pavement
  49. History
  50. Pain
  51. Tragedy
  52. Butterflies
  53. The ocean
  54. The mountains
  55. A field of flowers
  56. Rainbows
  57. Animals
  58. Children
  59. Fire
  60. Life itself
  61. Death…in its entirety
  62. Sunrises
  63. Sunsets
  64. Philosophy
  65. Theology
  66. Silence
  67. A blank journal
  68. Beating drums
  69. Culture
  70. Spirituality
  71. Sexuality
  72. Tomorrow
  73. Laughter
  74. Sunflowers
  75. The number 13
  76. A scream
  77. Crayola Crayons
  78. Yesterday
  79. Bright lights
  80. Sirens
  81. Crashing waves
  82. Crumpled paper
  83. Clean white sheets
  84. The scent of a loved one on an old shirt
  85. A bodily scar
  86. An emotional one
  87. Rose petals
  88. Fireflies
  89. Memories
  90. Waterfalls
  91. A wrapped present
  92. An empty box
  93. Liquid courage
  94. Temptation
  95. A deep sigh
  96. Words unspoken
  97. Dreams
  98. A smile
  99. A frown
  100. The last time…

Cover me in kisses, cover me in inspiration 

one and the same. Here’s to 100 more. 

~Sklylah

1.99 – Do You Have FAFS?

FAFS, also known as Fake Ass Friend Syndrome, is a debilitating condition, which can wreak havoc in every aspect of your life. However, this condition is treatable. In order to solve your problem, you must first identify your symptoms.

You have Fake Ass Friend Syndrome if:

  • You always says “I’m going to call you back,” and never do because you’re watching television, playing online games, filing your nails, watching Youtube videos, updating your Facebook status.
  • You drop off the face of the earth when your friend has a major illness, new birth, death in the family, major accomplishment.
  • You repeatedly schedule times to schedule a time to meet up with your friend but never successfully schedule a scheduled time.
  • You don’t show up to a friends baby shower/birthday/major event but post updates from a bar via Facebook or Twitter.
  • You apologize for your lack of friendship – only to repeat your asshole behavior.
  • You use other friends as an excuse as to why you’re a bad friend.
  • You bring up the length of time you’ve known  a person when confronted with your FAFS symptoms.
  • You only call your friends when you need money.
  • You only call your friends when things are bad.
  • You ask strangers “will you be my friend?”
  • You show new friends your bank statements.
  • You distance yourself from your friend when you’re around a potentially cooler crowd.
  • You continuously degrade one mutual ex-friend so you never look as bad.
  • You consider the friendship over every single time your friend doesn’t agree with you.
  • You refer to your friend as your fat friend, the skinny bitch, the dark one, the pasty chick.
  • You put forth zero effort but expect to be BFF’s.

If you or someone you know is suffering from FAFS, please get help. If it’s you – lock yourself in a room and throw away the key. Don’t ever come out – because you suck balls. Big hairy, saggy balls. This will help everyone you’ve annoyed. You cant be annoying if you’re out of sight – out of mind.  If it’s a friend – run! RUN FOR THE HILLS. You might think this is abandonment. It’s not. Those who suffer from FAFS must hit rock bottom in order to realize just how crappy they are acting. The only way to really do that is to sit in a room and have that moment when they realize…I’m alone.

FAFS sucks. Period.