I stared in awe at its beauty, not daring to power it on. I did everything except turn it on. I cleaned up, put the batteries in the remote, took pictures, texted my family. I even had a short crying session. Everything I’ve ever wanted, I’ve always had to make happen myself.
Online dating. The assumption that anyone who goes through the trouble of signing up, creating a profile, uploading pictures, and in some cases, paying a fee, said person is interested in making connections. With another person. As in, a fellow human being. And since none of us are telepathic, we need to communicate.
There should be a warning before reading profiles. Warning: scrolling through these profiles may induce eye-rolling and headshaking. There should also be a warning to manage expectations when going through photo galleries.
I’m ready to get back into the dating game. I purposely called it a game because that’s exactly what it feels like. I’ve been on and off dating apps since my twenties. These men claim they want relationships, but their behavior says otherwise. I don’t want to go back to an app, but there’s no other way for me to put myself out there. Even when we were allowed to roam about freely, I had to resort to apps. I was not meeting The One at the grocery store, subway, bookstore, movies, concerts, book signings, plays, comedy shows, Brooklyn Bridge, doctor/dentist office, work, Greyhound, Amtrak, Lyft share, JFK airport or other places.
At no point while I was cooking, packing the food, searching for an outfit, taking a shower, exfoliating, shaving my legs, drying off, moisturizing, sponging my hair, getting dressed, packing an overnight bag, or calling a Lyft did I think it was a bad idea to head over there.
I just wanted some comfort food. I had just emerged from a more-than-usual emotionally draining therapy session. I was spent, exhausted and hungry as if I had just completed a Shaun T T25 workout. I longed for a hot shower, comfy sweats and socks and my favorite fuzzy blanket to wrap around myself as I got lost in TV, or even better, a nap. The latter was not likely to happen. It’s rare that I nap on purpose. As much […]
#BlackLoveBooks Challenge Day 4: Fantasy: a fantasy-based novel with a love connection. Now I will admit that fantasy is not my thing at all. I can watch fantasy/sci-fi movies and TV shows for hours on end, (I’m looking at you Game of Thrones and Lost; not you Lord of the Rings), but reading the genre feels like a chore, or even punishment. I picked up a copy of A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L’Engle almost as soon as […]
I’ve spent the past few New Year’s Eves trying to look cute while bundling up to ring in the new year. Last year, a pink faux fur jacket was part of my ensemble. I wore it underneath a faux fur trimmed and lined (real) leather coat, yet I still froze (and sweat) my ass off while making my way to and from the subway stations. This year I thought I’d be slick and escape to Florida to usher in the […]
She was the second woman to ever break my heart. Not in a romantic way. The first was my mother when she left—my preferred terminology of her losing her battle to cancer when I was eight. Nearly twenty years later, my closest friend left. But she didn’t die. She left. Disappeared. I was the one who almost died. Not because she left. She left when I almost died. Our friendship had been unraveling for about two years anyway, but it […]