…the way forward…

I had a conversation, a mini-argument, with a guy that struck up a conversation with me at the bar. He noticed me wearing my ring, a dainty little thing with tiny diamonds, on my right hand. He asked if I were married. I told him no. He then asked why I would wear a ring on that hand; I responded with, “I bought it, I’ll wear it where I please.” I thought that would end the conversation, but he insisted on talking more.

He asked where I was from, I explained my multi-cultural background. I found it amusing how he was trying to place me in a category but he just couldn’t find one. He mentioned that he was from Trinidad. Nice, I thought, a Caribbean boy, “mama would be proud.”

He asks if I have a boyfriend, I tell him yes. In fact, I’ve dated him for almost three years (I think, I’ve really stopped counting) and I’m content. He asks me if I cook for him. (Why men insist on bringing the “c” word into the picture, I do not understand.) I tell him no. He asks how I intend on keeping a man if I don’t cook. What I am going to do to make my man happy. I just stare at him with that ’seriously?’ look on my face. I explain that it’s not because I don’t know how to cook, it’s just that I choose not to. His jaw seriously hit the floor and then he said what I think was supposed to be an insult, “you are so American.”

I just laughed. He tried to tell me that it was a woman’s job to cook, clean and raise the family. He claimed that it was gospel and that only American girls thought this way. I tried to explain to him that it wasn’t my job (especially if I wasn’t bringing in 6 figures to do any of the above). I tried to explain to him that I do those things because I want to, because I care, because I love the person, not because I’m expected to or because the man feels that he’s entitled to have these things done for him.

I tried to explain to him that it was all about appreciation. That my boyfriend knows that I care if I decide to cook dinner one night especially when he’s had a hard day at work (or playing poker on vacation), that I’ll pick up the “house” (whereever we may be staying) if he doesn’t have time — ok part of this is probably because I’m a neat freak, but anytime I do these things, he says thank you…he doesn’t just expect me to do them.

Maybe I’m a little childlike in thought and this could be why I’m not married yet, though I’ll admit that Mr. Man is a far better cook that I am any day. And I’m quite okay with that.

Every once in awhile you run into a fashion victim. Ok, maybe she’s not a fashion victim, her outfit was cute, but she apparently was a victim of the wrong size. Maybe she didn’t know what size she really was, or maybe she just wanted to pretend that just because the material had “stretch” in it, that meant she could wear two sizes smaller. But it reminded me of my committment to myself that I would not freak out if I had to go a size (or three) bigger in a particular brand of clothing and I would not unnecessarily rejoice when I could wear two sizes smaller because of the “generous fit” of some labels.

I have no clue what size I wear. It’s anywhere between a size 8 to a 14 judging by what’s in my closet but I think that’s because I’ve been given an ample dose of hips and booty and I don’t mind at all. But what I do know is that when you buy stuff that’s too tight, it overemphasizes the things that are not so great about your body.  Like this woman’s concave butt…

I know, I’m slightly wrong for taking an unsuspecting picture of her, but then again, she was wrong when she looked at herself in the mirror and thought it was appropriate to walk out of the house like that.

It’s Thursday, and I have the day off work. I went to the dentist and had the dental hygenist from h*ll. Needless to say, it’s evening time and I have yet to figure out how to eat solid foods. It’s soup and/or slim fast for me for the next few days.

Anyway, though it is a few days late, I have decided what I am “giving up” for lent. I thought about giving up sex since I’m not expected to see Mr. Man for the next 40 days anyway. But when you do things like that, people tend to come out of the woodwork trying to get in your pants. I thought about giving up alcohol but figured that didn’t count anyways as I gave that up at the beginning of the year. So, I’m giving up stupid people. Just one of them really. Believe me, this is more of a sacrifice than it seems.

It’s this guy that I thought was absolutely wonderful. We had an amazing connection and we could sit up and talk all night, sometimes about nothing at all. It just seems he lacks good judgement when it comes to time. More specifically, my time. Tonight for instance, I was supposed to take him out to dinner for his birthday. It’s 7 and I have yet to hear from him…so I’m assuming (and I believe rightfully so) that we’re just not going. And that’s okay with me, I can definitely save the money that I would’ve spent on him for dinner.

And this isn’t the first time that he’s done this. We make plans. He cancels without notification and I just overlook it because he’s young. Now, I’m assessing that he’s stupid. Youth and immaturity have little, if anything at all, to do with it.

In all reality though, for Lent, I’m giving foul language. It’s going to be a long 40 days.

I sing! I rejoice! I shout it at the top of my lungs! Good riddance to cupid and this stupid holiday.

Nope…I’m not bitter, I just don’t get the day.

Well, one of my best friend’s in the world got into the spirit with her boyfriend, Oz (obviously not his real name but that’s what I’ve always called him), and they went to White Castle.

Don’t believe me?

Check out the story here on the CBS News in Chicago…there’s a video clip. You must WATCH THE VIDEO!

Only a few more weeks until I’m out of here. I took a few days off towards the end of February just so I could relax, ease my mind…and not hate anyone.

I had originally anticipated on going to Chicago but I want to go someplace warm. (Is that too much to ask?) These negative temperatures are getting to me.

Anyway, since I don’t have much to say, or rather, I have a lot to say but that’s an introspective blog for another day. I thought I’d post a picture of the two most beautiful women in the world. Me and my little sister of course…

And yes, you can say that I’m vain, but if I don’t think I’m beautiful, who else will?