Single.

The best song wasn't the single.
But you weren't either.

-->Sweet Life.<--

'She Don't Want U Cues'

So the first text exchange included this:

You hustle on the wknds too?

I thought that was really dumb. I let it slide. But I'm sayin'... if you're trying to kick it, speak regla first. Once we've established that you can have a grown folk convo (which will come in handy, I guarantee it), then you can type me what you want.  But don't try to kick it and talk to me like I'm 19 and think that askin' if I hustle on the weekends instead of just asking if I work (like a normal person) is cute.  Cuz it's not, dude.  How could you possibly expect me to respond? Like:

Yeah son, nah mean. I do what it do. Keep my thug game up and shit.

I'm pretty sure this type of response would have satisfied him - made him happy even. When I play around, YES, I do say stuff like that; YES, I do have a modicum of residual gangsta in my bones; YES, I do talk to my friends in all kinds of ways.  But homey... we ain't friends. And iono you like that.

Then the next day or so, I got this:

How you doin ma?

Do people still say that? More problematic is the fact that I responded.  I'm not mean - at least I try not to be, so I allowed the convo to proceed. At some point he asked me where I was from and then responded:

Big city boss chick huh?
*sigh* 
The thing is, I did not give him the impression that I thought this was hot and sexy, and that he should keep going.  In fact, I kept responding extra regular to emphasize that he should just be normal and stop trying to be so gangsta.  But he didn't get it. Or he refused to adhere to the cue. The fact that I have more to say about this is probably more my issue than his since I kept responding :-/. Really, I just wanted to see how long it would take before he recognized that he sounded mad dumb son.  In my defense, when I recognized he just was outright REFUSING to let his faux gangsta let up, I stopped responding. 

The unfortunate more annoying thing is that dude seems to be super book intelligent.  He does stuff I can't explain. BUT, really what that demonstrates is that common sense is the best sense of all. I don't care how many degrees you have or don't have - some of the smartest people I know, and some of the coolest dudes I've met never went to college. So don't be confused by my requirement that you 'not be an idiot.' You can graduate from Awesome USA University and still be a big ole dummy (as demonstrated here).

What this really leads to is the fact that a lot of dudes refuse to adhere to cues. I'm pretty sure a lot of chicks are guilty of the same, but I can't speak to that. 
List of 'she don't want u cues' to come...
Moral of the story:
If you text me dumb sh*t, I'll put you on blast? No... that's really not it.  I promise.

I'm Just Not That Into You.

So, in continuation of yesterday's post... I started to wonder why the assumption is always that the chick is way more into the dude, and that the dude decides whether or not to requite.  Yeah, I'm going back to chunky dude who only dates skinny girls who told me that I had a 'smart' mouth, and THAT'S why I'm single.  When I told him it was by choice, he said "yeah, they all say that." I contemplated.  Do they all say that? I know a lot of women who are always complaining about not having a man so... do they all say that? I disagreed.  Nonetheless, I questioned myself, AND why his assumption was that if I didn't have a smart mouth, I would have a man - as if having a dumb mouth would mysteriously bring Prince Charming. I mean... call me crazy, but my intuition is that having a dumb mouth would bring... a dummy. Anyhoo.

There are several or many things wrong with that logic, no? First is the assumption that the only thing stopping me from being in a relationship is my mouth. Forget everything else.  Every other issue I, or the other person involved, might be bringing to the table.  All my hangups that typically make me disgusted with most dudes three minutes after our initial conversation.  Never mind that.  It's my mouth. No fool.  My mouth is what keeps away jerks.  And by golly, the goal is definitely to eliminate those from jump.  Second is the fact that he assumed that all women want to be in a relationship.  While that may be true for many, he also assumed that all women want to be in ANY relationship.  Wrong.  I can only speak for myself, but I definitely don't want just anything.  Third, he assumed that I didn't have options.  Oh yes, people.  Little 'ole me has options. Go figure.  But don't get excited... none of them are any good.  Hence my not being excited either.  Not to toot my own horn but I have my share of interested mankind - unfortunately, they either text me in Ebonics, are unemployed, are married, are 25, or are gay.  In other words, I couldn't possibly have any interest in any of the dudes I am approached by.  In addition, there are a limited number of (colored) dudes that like brown, nappy-headed chicks, so my options are already limited. (You know it's true, dudes - don't go trying to deny your affection for light-skinned girls with long hair now...)  He didn't think about that. Didn't care to. And didn't have to.  Because his wack ass can still get cute skinny chicks who have been convinced that HE is all they should have. Fourth, is it so crazy that I have high expectations? The expectations I have for my partner are similar to the ones I have for myself. As it should be.  And don't get me to quotin' scripture, please.  Ok, ok... just right quick - dude is supposed to love his wife like Jesus loves, and for that, his wife is supposed to trust and obey him.  Don't get all hung up on the obey part - if you're doing it right, you're obeying someone who is obeying the same God you do, so quit trippin'. I say that to say that, HELLO... I can't be obeyin' an idiot or a dickhead.  I can't obey a weakling.  And I can't obey a fool.  I just can't. So idiots, dickheads, weaklings, and fools are already eliminated from my pool of prime selects.  To recap, employed, not married, not gay, not 25, not an idiot/dickhead/weakling/fool, who likes nappy headed black girls is the pool that I'm swimming in.  So that means there isn't a lot of water.  But I'm cool with that cuz I'm super hydrated! These, my friends, are some of the reasons why I'm single.  But I guarantee you it's not because of my smart mouth.  I would never be with anyone who couldn't take it... cuz that would be the least of his worries :-).

If I can't get what I need, I'm cool with playing this here good game of solitaire. Sure, it's not always amazing. But it's always better than making myself smaller to make someone else feel big. (Get your mind out the gutter. I see you.)  This was all a prelude into a story about this one dude that won't stop texting me.  I'm just really not into him at all. Never was.  Never will be.  I have google voice on my phone, and have been pretty reckless with it since it's not like a real number and I can just cut it off or change it any time.  So yeah... I just give out this number when people ask for it.  Recently via google text, I've been told that I "sound like a boss." And while that may have (and I stress may cuz I really can't even confirm that) been cute when I was young, it sounds really, really, stupid now.  Don't seriously text me things you heard in a rap song, please. I'm grown. Talk to me in grown people language. Tell you about it tomorrow.

Been A Minute. But When I Tell You...

...what's been going on over this past year, you will completely understand the need for a break.  A savasana.  A death. A rebirth.

I am in the process of being reborn.  In every kind of way.  So much has happened since we last spoke. And although some may take me as the 'keep to myself, don't share my business, non-emotional type', lol, those are only those who don't know me very well.  I love to share - especially if my experiences can help somebody else through theirs, or make someone feel less 'out there.'  This might read like a book.  A tragedy, or one of whimsy - depending on where you are in your ride.  Who knows.

I'll spare you all the details, but share this.  Last year in the center of my 'sans love' period I met this dude.  Ugh.  Ruined everything.  I was so happy by myself.  But, everybody wants love - to love; to be loved.  All that.  So when opportunity arose, I dove head first (into shallow water and cracked my skull).  No need for gory details.  Anyhow, we 'dated' and stuff.  And then I realized/found out he was crazy. And so went that.

Thing is, I was also crazy.  Two crazies together typically make one supercrazy (which is kinda like a supernova, but less stellar), and you can only imagine what a 'supercrazy' looks like... (or maybe you've partaken in a 'supercrazy' before). It's just not pretty. And neither was I.  So there it is. My whole story. Laid out.

I tell it only as a beginning to a happier story.  That of me being by myself. Happy. Again. I've been meaning to write this for months.  At first, I was gonna tell the whole story about the crazy dude, and all the things that happened, and me fleeing out of the house (lol), the shaking, the crying, the blah, blah, blah.  But the thing with time is that it heals (thank God), so now I'm over it and have no desire to tell the story.

BUT, recently, in a convo with some old dude that was chunky and told me he's only attracted to petite women because he can't do anything with anybody his own size (yeah... whahuh, boo? do a sit up), he proceeded to let me know that I was single because of my 'smart' mouth.  Yup.  My smart mouth. LOL. So the story starts here sorta... and then goes backwards, and looses time somewhere, then comes back again, and goes circular.  The same dude told the woman I was with that she needed to adjust her 'requirements' for what she wants from a man, LOL. Sidebar: the woman got a kick out of him telling me about my smart mouth (albeit, incorrectly... because she thought he said I had a big mouth, haahahahaha, with which she was soooo ready to agree - but not with him saying that she needed to adjust her standards - I tell ya... ok, rant over).  So, apparently, we were single because collectively, we were smart with high standards. Well... YEAH... HELLOOOOO?  And just what is so wrong with that?

I'm not necessarily 'regular.' I'm okay with that.  I remember one friend years ago who said "Kami, I love you! You are one of the weirdest friends I have." I just... took it in stride, and pretended it wasn't offensive.  Nonetheless, I've accepted the fact that I'm not regular.  I'm not average.  And so what does that mean? It means that I can't do anything with/for a regular, average dude.  It'll just never work.  It'll turn into a supercrazy, things will explode, and people might will get hurt.

So this 'guy' tells me that I'm single because of my smart mouth. So I thought... wow, projecting, maybe? You, sir, would prefer... a woman with a dumb mouth? Is that it? And that's fine because I would prefer a man with three lips over you... but that's neither here nor there.  So this dude wants a dumb woman.  Cool.  But... why would he think that I'd want a man that thought I was too 'smart' for him; or more specifically, that my 'mouth' was too smart? The last thing I would ever want in a 'relationship' is to have to dumb myself down for the comfort of my partner.  Noooo fool... I want a partner that is not offended by my 'smart mouth' because his is just as smart, or smarter.  Don't make me quote scripture.  This is a BLOG.  But, any man that plans to take a seat on this here throne has to be a king, boo. (<-- did you roll your neck when you said that? cuz it requires a neck roll to say it right.)  I'm super cool with peasants, but I ain't one.  So it ain't neva gonna work. And I won't become a peasant for the comfort of any man. It is what it is.  And I'm cool with that.

So then, I have these friends who are constantly asking me when I'm gonna get a man and get married. Haaaaa. I am NEVER gonna 'get' a man. Sorry. That's not in the plan.  "He that findeth a wife...", not "she that seeketh a husband...", okay? My single life is pretty awesome, and while it can certainly be enhanced by a relationship, it cannot be enhanced by ANY relationship.  And the relationship I currently have with myself is way too good to mess it up for some random ass neighba.  Anyhow, I am just setting the stage for what is bound to be a great show.  It will commence tomorrow.  Please join me. We're gonna have so much fun.

'Ta Bom.

It's been a minute. So what.  I started out this blog with the very clear words "I am not a blogger" (I think). Why? Cuz I don't do it.  I just don't blog. But I'm doing it now, and hopefully this still counts.

So yeah, I changed my ticket to come home a week early.  Rio is just too expensive, but not worth the expense and so I'm leaving.  Not that it's not worth living here if you've got something you wish to accomplish, but rather things are so expensive, but not actually worth the asking price.  Clothes, for example, are super overpriced, but of less than Forever 21 quality.  That ain't cool.  'They' (I don't remember who 'they' are) put out some list of the most expensive cities in the world, and Rio was either number 11 or 12 - right next to Sao Paolo.  New York, on the other hand, was number 32, and the first of any city in the United States (although I think Chicago give NY a run for its' money).  That oughta put it into perspective...  Not only is Rio expensive, but I'm also living in the most expensive part of this expensive city. And so I'm heading out.  Plus, it's the kind of place where either you stay for a long time, or you stay for a short time.  The in between times aren't really all that.  You don't have time to really get to know people, and you just start feeling comfortable when it's about time to leave.  Another month here and I would be fluent, and know how to get everywhere on the metrô.  However, I would also be bored out of my mind.

Sure there are plenty things to do in Rio.  There are plenty things to do in any big city.  But after you do them (and even if you don't), it gets played out.  I'm not the partier type anymore (been there, done that), so getting drunk on watery beer and caipirinhas while dancing until the wee hours of the morning isn't my idea of fun.  10 years ago, maybe! But now? No thanks.  However, it is fun for a lot of people, so if that's your thing you will absolutely love it here.  There are some pretty cool (free) cultural events throughout the city, too.  Stumbled upon an awesome Miles Davis exhibit the other day after going to this film festival, which was located next door to a Jazz Festival.  There is no lack of festivals if you pay attention to what's going on.

cont'd 8.20.11
Brooklyn.