ok ok ok

So, as I sit in my on campus apartment watching the National Championship game, I realized that since its already past 11pm, I won't be going back to studying since I am trying to watch the game. Then I am still debating should I make my way over to Franklin Street for the excessive and hyperactive celebrations that will be going on after the game. Naw prolly not, I really am allergic to large crowds and the ignorance that can erupt at any moment. Its amazing how I did not lose my cool whatsoever while I was at the inauguration in January. I think if it wasn't for the fact that I was with my good friends, soror sisters, and honorary member, I would have been ready to go self-implode. So I said all that to say, I had a thought for my next blog topic, but my eyelids would not permit me to write it. So here goes tonight latest personal a-la-personal tat. I have never had a preference for guys, well any kind of explicit preference. This has been the case with the type of guys I have liked or fooled around with over the years. I don't know if it makes a difference whether there are certain defined qualities one would look for in a mate. I figure with some of my acquaintances, they would go for certain looks, certain lifestyle, or certain monetary attachments. But that never has been me. I think that my eclectic taste in men would have something to do with why I have issues with men as it is. I mean in general I go for black men and sometimes hispanic men(well just mainly Dominican, Puerto Rican from time to time, some others from time to time). I really don't have a height requirement, I realized that damn near any guy I meet over 95% of the time is going to be taller than me (I'm only 5'3). I seem to be a sucker for guys that wears glasses, I guess it just flashes intelligence to me (even though I know that's always the case). I also seem to like physics majors, ha go figure. I also have a tendency to be attracted to younger guys at this point or guys no older than 5 years than I am. So its like my cutoff period is 21-29 (maybe an exception for a 20 or a 30 year old). I remember this 34 year old man was trying to holla at me, the age thing bothered me from the get go but his stalker like tendencies even freaked me out even more. I also tend to gravitate to light skinned brothers, seems to be my Achilles heel at times (but don't think all the time), but even that doesn't trip me out too much. I do wonder why I seem to have a particular inkling for younger guys. Is it some kind of time warp I am stuck in, is it I really didn't realize the guy age, I was too busy oogling, or do my eyes really be playing tricks on me and people aren't quite as they seem? I blame that on the foods we eat with that last question about people not seeming to be quite who you thought they would be. But I will save that for another day. Well, the game is almost over, time for me to decide to go out and wonder about or just chill...

The Coming out of Left Field Story for Today:

So for today I got some disturbing news, one of my relatives was getting divorced. Why significant? Because ever since I had been living on my own, meeking out an existence, I used to spend my holidays by myself on campus a lot. I told my relative, she couldn’t believe it that I had been doing it for that long, and insisted I come to stay with them for the holidays. This was around 2006 I think, give or take. But anyways, it took me a while to adjust their abode because they were like a family, you know, with the kids and 2 parents with careers that were actually together. See when I was growing up, on my mom’s side of the family (which raised me more or less), most of my aunts and uncles had already divorced at least once, with usually my cousins paying the prices for their sometimes irresponsible decisions (that they still pay for till this day). So when I would spend time my relatives that was married, it was like wow, you don’t’ see that happening everyday. And little by little, as I spent my holiday breaks and summer breaks and interludes between school at their house, I felt myself become attached, as if they were in a way, the parents I never had. Even though there were certain things I couldn’t’ feel myself belonging to in their family, overall I was relatively happy. Now of course I was not naïve and I knew they had their fair share of arguments and disagreements and what have you, but you know I figure hey that’s all apart of being married. Then there was this news today. When I was told this morning, I felt a bit of wind sail from me because last time my relative called last semester near my finals, he was telling me news that one of my cousins had been killed. So needless to say, I did not see this coming. I felt a bit sad (thanks to the wonderfully dreary weather of dark clouds and coldness that had been prevalent around here all day today) about it, as if they were my parents getting divorced and this was affecting me personally. I just wonder how their kids are going to handle it. Well they were reassuring me that I could still come home and stay but I don’t know, it just didn’t feel the same right off the bat, and I wasn’t going to go “home” till middle of May after my finals to get a touch up of good ole Houston.
But it made me realize, I think they were the last of maternal relatives that I knew of that had been a relatively stable marriage that was over 40. Well so much for that. And its amazing that out of my childhood friends I had, I never knew who my father was and he was deceased, a sister and brother father was deceased, one of the half-brothers father really didn’t come around to see his son and the other brother father was in the prison. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was considered the norm in the neighborhood, and the fact that we were being raised still relatively and recently good was a rarity.
Lately I had been questioning whether I would ever get married, given my current track rate of how my “dating” life and “relationship” life had been going. I sort of always had a bit of an apprehension of marriage, but it certainly did not mean I advocate shacking up with an implied common-law marriage. But regardless, its just one of those things to chalk up that marriage might be overrated, overstated or even understated in today’s world. At least I am friends with one young married couple I went to middle school with that’s starting out and they seem to be going really well. For the older crowd per se, I guess I have to lean on my close homegirls and homeboy whose folks I have met, almost met, and personally know to lean on to understand and witness what a good marriage still means in today’s world.

Valentine’s Day-the 09 story (part 3)

So someone asked me not too long ago, did I have someone special in my life. I told them, you know it’s the same ole same ole. At times, my heart feels empty; I do think from time to time that I be incapable of loving a man. I used to believe in the fairy tale stories of living happily ever after and the romance stories on the level of Casablanca (wait, Casablanca is not exactly the world’s greatest happily ever after story either, crap!). But the main reason for all these all over the place synopsis of my dating life was to explain why I don’t think I am going to find the right kind of man. When I take a look at myself, I guess you can say I have a pretty good package-brains, sense of humor, witty, personality, that independent streak, great smile, decent teeth (as straight they could be growing up poor and notorious for crashing into stuff and breaking teeth), the spunk, the determination, the pure drive, the somewhat sexy fashion sense I can exude when put into the right clothes and my scorpion tendencies (yo yo yo it pays to be a Scorpio let me tell you). So I meet or come across or talk to quite a few guys, and my perception has been either all the goods I have met are all taken, or they still in the mindset that the girl they have to get has to be the type one views on various media mediums. Despite all those adjectives I just described of myself, one thing that is unique to me is that I am a size 18. I have been told numerous times that when people looked up at me they didn’t think I was that size. You would be amazed what clothes don’t fit you when your chest size is in the F range and you have a big butt. And ladies and gents, that is what I based my generalization on. I really think that if I looked like some of my homegirls, my phone would not stop blowing up. But its cool because I have always struggled with my weight. I realized a little too late the errors of my ways of lifting weights like crazy in high school and then letting my half laziness slip in and not staying in shape. But in 2009, I have made my valiant return to the gym-not because I want to get a man, but because I want to finally get heart healthy again and get in good physical conditioning. I know that I am never going to be a size 10, but its cool because I rather have a healthy heart, very normal blood pressure and low cholesterol than anything else. I realized that I am definitely not getting any younger and given the health problems in the half of the family tree I actually know about, I do not want to start taking pills to control things prematurely (especially since I detest to the exponential raised to the infinite power swallowing pills). So if it happens that I manage to get my body toned, then so be it in 09, I think that would be way more successful than trying to find love on dating services and the likes.
And p.s. how I am spending valentine’s day you ask? Well hitting the library in the morning, buying small amount of groceries and cleaning supplies, getting the eyebrows done up, catching a free movie at the student union hopefully, contemplate how ridiculous my workload is going to be next week, work out for damn near 3 hours, if motivated, spit a letter or two to form this complex of words to post in my next blog. That’s the life I live now (life’s a real “joy” being a graduate student) and trying to “fix” my DVD player. After 5 years, it wants to start acting up on your girl. Grrrrrrrr…

Valentine’s Day-the 09 story (part 1)

So its technically early Saturday morning out here on the east coast, and I am sipping on my favorite alcoholic drink (cranberry juice and vodka), listening to the The Brothers Johnson and Strawberry Letter 23 (they don’t make music like this anymore, sadly). And of course today is Valentine’s Day; with my given track record when it comes to relationships, its easy to see why I think Valentine’s Day is just plain evil. But enough of that, I came to the realization when I went home for Christmas break that I have no game whatsoever, which I guess is somewhat normal for a female not to have a game whatsoever. But it got me thinking why have been so habitually single? Now don’t get me wrong, for the most part, (I say 85% of the time) I enjoy the freedom I have to roam wherever I like, whenever I like and however I like. There is never any need for me to commit to another human being, (i.e. a Man) because I have gotten so use to be single. But there are times where I have these thoughts that creep up slowly behind me and question my extended single status. To get all technical and stuff, I have never had a real boyfriend. Never have been in a real relationship nor engage in all the warm cuddly relationship type stuff. Perhaps my philosophy when it comes to the opposite sex is different than most: I rather become good friends with a guy, he gets to know me and all my quirks and eccentrics and I get to know him for who he really is (which I found most guys don’t do for some reason). This is one of the reasons why I have so many guy friends in the most place. I grew up as a tomboy, never had a motherly type figure in my life for the longest, so I didn’t get the memo of how to talk to boys, that you was suppose to start shaving your legs at a certain point, and that wearing flannel shirts just wasn’t fashionable. But needless to say, I grew up being me and me only.
Where am I going with this? Hell if I know. But I do know that I used to get rejected all the time from guys. After awhile I began to think there was something was wrong with me. I was never skinny, I wore glasses, I am pretty much a nerd, I had 0 fashion sense and everything else. Then sophomore year, this guy had to put in some real serious work before I agreed to be his girlfriend. Only reason I agreed because he was the first guy in high school to ever show me any kind of attention. But we were only an “item” for a week. I guess when you worked that hard to get the girl she’s just another conquest. And since then, no guy has showed me that kind of attention or to ever make me feel special. So for the longest, I would wear this brave face (or mask) that never let on how much I wanted to get in on the trials and tribulations of romance, first love and teenage-dum. And after awhile, I began to learn how to accept that perhaps there was no such thing as love at first sight and finding a guy who likes me for me. And now that I am approaching 25 this year, I feel now that yeah I wish I had a boyfriend, or even a boy toy from time to time, that I should really begin to accept that it wasn’t meant for me to fall or to ever be in love. Oh well. I guess I just need to focus on making the world a better place somehow.