Ms. Understood

Hello,

My name is Ms. Understood, and hence the name, I'm a very misunderstood person. My mother understands me *shout out to mommy*. My close friends sorta get me. And for that I'm very grateful. But outside of these entities, I'm often assigned a personality I do not own, intentions that are not mine. And I apparently possess an aura that I wish would stop following me everywhere I go. Well, let me not wish that. I imagine it's doing some good things that I as a mere mortal am incapable of comprehending.

When I'm not being labeled as "quiet and shy," I'm accused of being "boring" (by people who have no desire to prove themselves right or wrong) or "innocent and naive" (by people who have no desire to prove themselves right or wrong). What I really love is when I'm placed on a pedestal of purity, and if I dare step down and become "normal," am met with an astonished disappointed that can be summarized with Jennifer, you?

I would never have guessed that at my age, I would still be treated as if I were a child, incapable of understanding the cruel ways of the world; an asexual being with no desire to experience the pleasures of the flesh; a quiet mouse who only squeaks every now and again; a sweet little thing who'd never ever curse; a young woman who despite growing up in the 80s and 90s is somehow ignorant of popular culture, particularly rap music. It goes on and on.

Well you know what everybody?

I'm a woman!!!!!! A normal woman!!!!! A regular adult!! My god, may I step down off this pedestal and have an alcoholic beverage with you, I can take it you know!! May I curse without a news crew being called because it's a big deal? May I get upset or have any normal reaction to life’s ups and downs? May I squat and shake my hind part to a booty bounce song without someone fainting from the shock? Sir, yes you over there, voulez-vous couchez avec moi ce soir?

Wow, this feels really good. I’m just tired of being misunderstood. I’m just tired of shocking people by doing the most normal, mundane things. I’m tired of being told I’m too nice by men. I’m tired of being told I need to get out more, but having to do it alone. I’m tired of being taken for granted. I'm tired of not being given a chance. I'm tired of the timing always being wrong. I'm tired of all the good ones being taken. I'm tired of the leaves in my yard. I'm tired of my commute. I’m just tired.

I would like to drink a glass of Chardonnay right now. But I must do it alone. Wouldn’t want to have more than one, become merry, start to act like the real me, and shock someone who had such high hopes for me.

Oh yes, before I forget, I hope you enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday. I’ll be back with another post soon. Though November was busy, a paltry two postings is unforgivable. I’m sorry about that. Love you all. Forgive the rant. Just being normal. May I?

---Ms. Understood

Nina, take it away.

When You're Not "The One"

When you're not "the one" you seem to remember all the little things you shouldn't remember about him. When you're "the one" he remembers all those little things about you. When you're not the one, you pick yourself apart and ask yourself why. When you're the one, you have no questions at all. When you're the one, you can rest assured. When you're not the one, you're assured a restless night.

Yeh, I just freestyled that myself. I'm sitting here, sipping coffee and doing some freelance work. I decided to take a break and unload a little of what I've been feeling since I left work. I was on the train coming home when the hopeless romantic in me reared her neglected little head. She reminded me about "Tony," my last crush that went nowhere. (Why is this the story of my life?) I remembered that the year anniversary of my meeting him was coming up, November 14th to be exact. I then smiled a sad smile because I knew that he would never ever remember the date he met me.

I pulled out my cell phone and sent this text to my friend who's very familiar with how much I adored him:

Nov 14 is the day I met Tony. I still remember what he had on and how much I looked forward to seeing him again. I was so nervous 2 ask 4 his # but did anyway. I actually prayed that he'd feel the same about me. I prayed because I like him so much. Still do. Even though I'm not "the one."

Kinda deep right?

I had dinner, danced to work off the cookies I ate earlier, did some work, and then came to my blog. Where I discovered my thoughts of unrequited desire were still hanging around, demanding to be tended to. And so I'm tending to them. Through my words.

I have no shame in admitting that I rarely forget the people who've crossed my path. I remember them all. I wonder where they are; if they ever did that thing they wanted to do; if they ever bought that thing they wanted to buy; if they ever went to that place they wanted to go; if they've fared well in this roller coaster ride of life. That's just the kind of person I am. I know Tony will never read this. But here's to you anyway, Tony. Thanks for coming through, at least when it really mattered. Whenever you're ready again, and either find or reunite with "the one," I'm sure she'll feel very loved.

All the best to everyone.

About the couple up there: This beautiful scene was part of a calendar I bought over 6 years ago. The artwork was so beautiful I cut out most of the months and framed them. Gazing at their embrace puts a smile on my face; just like the smile on hers. I won't lie, there have been many nights where I wished we could trade places.


Signed,

The Hopeless Romantic on behalf of Jennifer Singleton