Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Tim and Tina

Once apon a time, before the advent of texting and Facebook, men actually contacted women for dates via the phone. It's true. Ask your parents.

This was a good thing. A man would actually have to make the effort to approach a woman and start up a conversation. These conversations usually started with an inquiry as to the woman's name and marital status. Let me create a typical conversation for you:

A man approaches a woman. "Hi. My name is Tim. What's yours?"

The woman would bat her eyelashes and smile. "I'm Tina. How are you?"

Tim takes a step forward. "I'm doing good. You have a beautiful smile. Can I have your number? I'd love to take you out sometime."

Of course Tina says yes. They go out. They fall in love. They get married. They buy a house. They have babies. Tina gains 35 lbs of pregnancy weight. Tim begins to drink one too many beers at night. They go from having sex three times a week to three times every sex months. Tim has an affair. Tina moves in with her mother.

Couldn't be simplier.

These days that scenerio would be played out quite differently. Men no longer approach women in the supermarket, bookstore, or any other place that grown folks may go. I have had men that I barely know contact me through the almighty Facebook to ask me out. My reply: "And who are you?"

Now, let's take the above example and apply it to today's hightech world.

First, Tim is trolling online. He is on Steven's Facebook page. He sees a post from Tina and thinks she looks cute. He pokes her.

Tina pokes back.

Tim requests Tina as a friend. Tina accepts.

Hi Tina! Hope your day is going good! Tina thinks this post fromm Tim is sweet. She replies with, It's going good. How are you?

Tina and Tim exchange these type of posts for a day or two.

Finally Tim catches Tina on Facebook instant messenger.



U busy?

Nah. Sup?

Wanna go out Friday night?

Um, sure. Here's my number. Text me.

Tim texts Tina. They go to a movie and end up back at Tina's house. They spend the night together. Tina is fairly certain that Tim is the one she should settle for. Tim, on the other hand, promises to text later on that day. But, Tim gets busy and never texts her again. Tina ends up a bitter, man-hating single woman. She begins to collect cats. As Tina grows older, the neighborhood kids begin to fear her. Tim becomes an alcoholic and dies from liver failure at the age of 50.

Trust me. It's much better to accept a date the old fashion way. At least you get babies out of it.

Monday, August 9, 2010


I'm raggedy. There I said it. I'll say it again for those that didn't get it the first time.

I. Am. Raggedy.

Those who know me, know what I am talking about. Those of ya'll who don't, can only imagine. And I say, "Imagine away." You probably aren't too far off from the actual truth.

And that's all fine and dandy. I want to get to a point in my life that when people look at me, they see a good mother. They see a God fearing woman. They see a klutzy, God fearing, good mother.

When people look at me, I want them to say, "I remember when Wes used to go to the clubs every weekend. I remember when she broke so-and-so's heart. I remember her running the roads. But, look at her now. She goes to church. She's good with her kids. Shoot. If she can get her life straightened out, I know I sure can."

Being raggedy ain't too bad.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

My Nemesis

There are certain people in the world. Those who can walk through air without problems and those that can't. I am the latter.

I noticed it at an early age. I believe I was about 6 when my little friend asked me to skip with her to the sandbox. We grabbed each other's hand and proceeded to make our way. At the time, I did not know how treacherous thin air could be. I quickly learned as I tripped and went crashing to the ground. Startled, I looked around to see when had caused my fall. There was nothing.

I learned two things that day. (1)You can not trust air. (2)It helps to have a sense of humor.

Things have not gotten any better with age. I went from tripping on my way to the sandbox to falling as I cut grass. I have tried to pull off the seductive lean in a door frame stance while talking to a good looking men. However, at the last minute, the door frame moved and I fell to the floor; causing injury, not only to my body, but to my ego as well.

I blame the air for my troubles. How else can you explain landing on the floor when I was sitting in a chair? Or, better yet, how can you explain the time I went to sit in my car and hit the ground instead? I believe it was the air that moved the vehicle.

It's a terrible ordeal for me. Everyday I am conscious of the fact that the very element that sustains life, is out to end mine. While others can walk down steps or climb up stairs with no worries, I hesitate. I know the air's lurking all around me. It tries to lure me into a false sense of security as it waits patiently to strike. I can feel the grip of its evil clutches, as the air swirls around my ankles causing my to fall as I try in vain to grab on to anything for support.

It also shoves me.

The shoving is the worse. I went to hug a friend of mine the other day. Instead of hugging, I fell on him. Poor thing probably thought I was suffering from an aneurysm of some sort. I have walked along a wall, only to find myself walking into it instead of parallel to it. You can thank the air for that. It likes to shove me into the hardest thing it can find.

I am not giving up. I will defeat air. I haven't exactly figured out how I am going to get the upper hand; but I will. One day, the air will not be such a bully. It will not shove me into parked cars, throw me up against walls, or trip me as I am walking on flat surfaces. One day, I say! One day, the air will do the job it is meant to do. Not the job it wants to do.

Until then, I urge all of you to proceed with caution. The air is all around you. And it is evil....