In the past I've made blog posts of the comments I've made on my favorite message board. The last one I posted was in July, about a professional woman whose ex-con boyfriend murdered her. I was very sympathetic to the victim because I knew this guy wasn't her first choice, and that perhaps, she had inadvertently made it very difficult for herself to find a mate because she 1) she desired a mate of the same race; 2) was over 30; 3) didn't look like a model; 4) had a college degree or two; and 5) had a good career and, more than likely owned her own home. While initially, these traits scream "ideal woman," for so many women (myself included) they can render you damaged goods because you aren't damaged goods.
As you can see, when I'm passionate about something I tend to go on and on. So back to the point of this post. I decided to make another post to show that while I'm very sympathetic to some women who, because of societal circumstance, decide to date down and settle, I also become quite enraged at others who settle for seemingly no good reason at all. Of course, I realize that I'm bias, and that I don't know these people I make assumptions about. Honestly, I just get a vibe about what's going on.
The reply below came from a thread about a woman who decided to live with a man she'd known less than six months (I don't know whether she moved in with him, or he with her, but I assume the latter because this is a typical female thing to do). Anyway, this woman didn't know where her live-in worked. That's right. He has not told her. Yet she continues to live under the same roof and live each day in ignorant bliss as though she isn't a straight up and down fool. Here's what I had to say:
This is so ridiculous that I'm angered. They actually moved in together and she doesn't know where he works. Does she call him at work? Nothing in her is curious enough about this man she sleeps with and has opened her life up to insist he tell her where his money comes from? I want to say mean things about her and her upbringing because I'm so mad. This is so foolish.
The only thing that would make this acceptable is if he has told her and it's so classified and dangerous that she can't tell anyone else. But then again, she'd just say I can't talk about it. This woman actually doesn't know. I can't believe that men complain they can't find a woman. Look at all these stupid foolish women walking around that will accept anything, anything at all and actually love you for it. I see why it's so hard for men to not take advantage of the stupidity that persists in women. So yes, while I'm often sympathetic to the plight of women in this cruel dating world, there are others who make me deeply ashamed that other men may look at me and assume that I too am an absent-minded, desperate idiot like the hoards of others who look like me. *sigh* Unfortunately, proving them wrong has been to my detriment. For I stand among only a few women who look like me who stubbornly cling to the belief that accepting BS is a job best suited for the plains on which said bull roams.
So I tuned in to watch the Cavaliers-Heats game tonight. Not because I'm a die hard b-ball fan, but to witness for myself the childish, hateful antics I heard some of the Cavaliers fans would perform. And they didn't disappoint. Boos, vulgar taunts, chants, holding up signs with nasty messages on them, giving the middle finger, just about anything they could legally do to make Lebron James feel as much hurt as they felt following "the breakup." It amazed me that some of these people had no clue how petty they looked, how unstable. Or perhaps they didn't care that the rest of us found their attachment to this man—a basketball player—and continued anger over his leaving something that required a hug, and for some, counseling.
Looking and listening to their reactions over the past few months made me think about the power of rejection. Most people associate rejection with romantic interests, and are usually quick to tell the rejectee to "get over it" or "it's not that serious" or "don't sweat it." However, when that rejection comes in other forms, let's say a basketball player leaving your city, prolonged angry feelings are encouraged.
No one likes to be rejected, no matter the situation. The stuff hurts, and if you've experienced it, you know it's a feeling that calls you to question whether you'll ever know the happy feeling of acceptance. But if the poor, rejected lonely hearts are told to toughen up and get over it, shouldn't other rejectees, who may not have had their romantic feelings rejected, but their sense of entitlement to, let's say, a basketball player, yanked away?
I looked at the forlorn faces in the stands of the Quicken Loans Arena and couldn't help but make the comparison between them and the millions of hopeless romantics who wait for returned phone calls, texts, and emails that will never be, only to have to force themselves to process through their grief very quickly and finally come to the realization: he (or she) just isn't into you. Move on. Your "soul mate" certainly has.
My heart goes out to those Cavs fans who feel anything close to "real" rejection. That's a hurt I wouldn't wish on anyone. Everyone should know they have someone who will never leave.
Peace to all.
Check out my creativity at work with my teddy bears who graciously volunteered to illustrate how much rejection sucks. Observe the great acting, look at both the happiness and pain on their faces. Look at the talent I have around me. Thank you bear-y much guys.
I felt great today, imagine that. Based on yesterday's post you'd think I was just about through. But nope, I survived. And I had a great day at work today. I was so productive and it felt good. For days now I've let some negative thoughts consume me. But I've moved through my stages of grief, let some things go in my mind, and finally allowed myself to believe that it's not my fault.
Ahh yes, the mind and imagination can bring such joy, yet such sadness. It's all about having balance. Life is like a roller coaster. When you begin to learn your cycle of events and occurrences, you tend to enjoy every drop of the good times because you know that a down time may come. And when it does, you were expecting it (because it's a part of life), welcome it, process it, and send it packing. For some good times are on the way and you need to make room.
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?
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
Here she is, the most realistic humanoid I've ever seen. When I saw her dressed like a librarian it made me realize how they can be walking amongst us now. Technology has advanced so much, it's amazing. I would sit next to her on the bus or train and not even look twice. She blinks, uses a variety of facial expressions, and has an eerily calm demeanor.
I know these humanoids will one day play a major role in our lives. I'm curious though, will they demand the same rights and freedoms as humans? Will there be advocacy groups working to prevent their exploitation? Will they take away the jobs of "real" humans? Think about it, no sick leave, no maternity leave, no need to enjoy an outside life.
One month ago, I wrote that on October 1st I would post a review of The Outsider by Richard Wright. Well after reading the 400+ page book I became intimidated and unsure of my ability to give it justice. I was so impressed with Wright's writing style, the book's theme, and the protagonist Cross Damon, that I kept putting off the review while I thought of the best way to proceed. And now as October nears an end, I still haven't done it. This is my confession. I still believe in my writing ability, but honestly, I just think my review will suck. But I suppose I should let others be the judge of that, right?
I'm creative. I can string together a sequence of words to create an interesting read. I've done it before, and I've had my share of compliments. Don't give up on me, gentle readers. Perhaps it will help me to not give up on myself.
Oh yes, about the tree:
It's a tree in my backyard that is going through "the change" in anticipation of winter. I was inspired by it. Without fail, the leaves come and they go. So much of that mirrors human life. We gain and we lose all the time. Our defining moments are how we choose to act on what is happening. I've lost some leaves myself, leaves that may never return. But my hope is that in their place will erupt new and wondrous buds to restore me to what I used to be.
Continue to look out for that review. It's coming. I promise.
These are the words that came from the mouth of a woman I rode with on the bus this morning. She had been talking to another woman about kids, music, and what their plans were for the weekend. As most people on public transportation, their voices were elevated so that everyone around them was forced to be a part of the conversation. As we approached a Starbucks and its "Coming Soon!" sign, the woman began expressing her view that a Starbucks wouldn't do well in the neighborhood. My new neighborhood. I was very offended, but not for me. I was offended on behalf of the neighborhood's residents who are very grateful that a Starbucks has come. In the midst of budget furniture stores, fast food restaurants, nail shops, and an auto parts store, I'm sure the residents are pleased that a Starbucks, something different, has come.
I got the impression she meant the residents of the largely minority neighborhood would not frequent a Starbucks, and it struck a nerve. Why wouldn't we? I wanted to reply to her "So, would a liquor store and payday loan establishment be more acceptable for the neighborhood? Because the people here would rather spend their money on a wing special than a iced latte, right?" What her view of herself and the people around her must be, I pondered.
I found myself feeling grateful that she wasn't a city planner, or the person responsible for approving building permits or granting contracts to investors and companies seeking to gentrify an economically distressed neighborhood.
But then I realized that I had no idea what she did for a living. She appeared to be on her way to work just like me. The likelihood of her either working for the local DC government or the federal government was strong. How were her perceptions of "certain" kinds of people and places influencing her decision making. What did she mean? The residents were too poor to afford a Starbucks beverage or food item? Or did she mean the residents didn't have sophisticated enough palates to appreciate Starbucks products? Why was she so certain that the business would fail because "this isn't the neighborhood for that"?
Lady, what is the right neighborhood for that? And if your neighborhood is not good enough for a Starbucks, why do you live in such a place?
I certainly hope she's wrong. I'll visit this Starbucks when it opens. And I hope I'm joined by other residents who want to show "upscale" establishments like Starbucks that we do spend our money on products other than fast food and other products of the poor and unenlightened. I know I'm kind of rambling here. This isn't meant to be a perfect post with proper sentence structure, topic sentences, cohesiveness, and cadence. It's just a rant in reply to an ignorant statement I heard on the bus.
Should I be embarrassed to admit that I'm in the mood for this right now? Should I be even more ashamed to admit that I'm rather famished from lack of this emotional food? Well, I'm not. Mental stimulation at the mind of another person is crucial for human development, creativity, happiness, and fulfillment. It's such a shame that not enough of us realize its importance.
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