Author Archives: Danielle Clark

About Me, Where to?

Chapter Two

I heard a rumor. Not sure how true it is based on the source. A former neighbor. Introductions at the package lockers. Used to meet at the tucked away pool and just vibe. He would sit with his legs in the pool and make flirty comments. I would float. My legs wrapped around his legs. Yellow noodle, waterproof phone case and Apple Music. Renaissance playing on the Bluetooth speaker.

Looked for a photo of me in my apartment pool. Found picture of me from a cruise stop instead. You get the vibe though:)

The rumor is I’m no longer able to renew my lease. When it expires, I’ll have to move. Either to a renovated unit in my same complex of the last five years OR out of the complex completely. WTF.

I live in a 2 bedroom, 1 bath, 900 square feet apartment in Dallas, TX. One block from West Plano. If that means anything to you. White appliances, carpet, laminate countertops, and basic wood like cabinets. My rent averages $1350 – $1365 per month including those stupid fees. If I choose to move in the same complex, to an identical floor plan with the new upgrades and amenities, then my rent would be approximately $1800!

Well damn.

Here’s the thing. I thought my lease expired December 2023. However, I called to confirm. Bruh! My lease expires March 2023. Da Fuk?! I’ve only got 4 months to move.

“What’s the plan, Phil?”

Do I sell everything (except my newly upholstered show stopping ottoman), pack my compact SUV, and see where the wind blows?

I’ve spent the last 17 years worried about school districts, basketball courts and commutes. My life has changed. An empty nest. 100% remote benefits. Praise God. A chapter two. My “must have” list has officially changed. . .

But, to what? Hmmm. 🤔

I used to dream of living in a right sized place like Carrie Bradshaw’s Manhattan apartment. Do you remember her apartment? Books from the floors to the ceiling to the left of the front entrance. A tiny living room only big enough for a handmade accent chair from the finest wood. Oh Aidan. An unused oven whose only purpose would be to store sweaters. Or in my case the occasional chocolate muffin shaped brownies. Each with just one perfectly positioned Oreo in the middle. Several pints of cookies and cream in the freezer. A closet that I could access directly from the bathroom. I want to be able to get out of the shower, lotion up on a cozy chaise lounge all while looking directly at my daily options. A capsule wardrobe hanging perfectly colored code… that I never wear. Matching ath-leisure sets from Target in a pile on the floor.

Well. That’s it. Closet door accessible from shower. My new “must have.”

XOXO

Lesson: DDC is on the move.

Question: What are your “must haves?”

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Humor, Multiple Sclerosis

Gummy Thoughts

My gummy thoughts are hilariously brilliant. In my opinion.

What’s your opinion? Which ones?

Am I hungry?

I AM hungry (“Am” is emphasized)!

I haven’t had Raising Canes in forever.

Do I turn left here?

If I turned left here, then could I get to the parking lot of Raising Cane’s?

Get in left turning lane.

Wait.

Wait.

This isn’t working.

I should just eat my leftovers from lunch.

Yep. That’s what I’ll do.

Gets out of turning lane.

I spend money.

I always spend money.

I’ll just go home.

Turns left.

Two sauces please.

My ottoman is gorgeous.

Black and white is my love language.

My Mom is Superwoman.

Does my Mom know that I eat gummies?

I never told her directly about my blog.

Wait. Did we talk about it?

We did.

She didn’t understand it.

Yep. That’s it.

I remember.

I remember?

I remember!

Bruh.

This blog is 🔥.

This specific one.

This post.

The whole blog.

I love these fries.

There’s a text.

I’m so funny.

I’m pretty.

Text.

Does it matter if I get sauce on this shirt?

Shouldn’t I wash every time that I wear it?

Wait.

Should I wash it every time I wear it?

EVERY time? Emphasis.

Do cold Raising Cane’s fries taste good?

I taste salt.

I like salt.

I wish I didn’t like salt.

That second sauce was genius.

The gummy taste good.

Tastes?

Tasted?

Whatever.

This is THE best toast. Emphasis.

I am so fucking funny.

I’m going to floss when I finish eating.

Am I? AM. Emphasis.

Was that valet trash?

I should put the trash out.

I’ve got time.

Should I put this chicken in the microwave?

The word “microwave” was an option.

This phone is watching me.

It sees me.

I don’t need this second sauce.

I spend money.

I wonder how many fries did I just put in my mouth?

Seven?

Text.

😂🤣😂.

Brilliant.

Me.

I am brilliant.

Brilliant with my millions.

Imma Be.

Lyrics.

Should I add the lyrics?

To this post?

Is my door open.

I want a two car garage.

My mother bought me six cans of Blue Runners.

Blue Runners.

My purse is so cute.

Why is the lotion on the kitchen counter.

Tupperware.

How do you spell Tupperware?

Hmmm.

Do I love emojis?

Should I drink the Raising Cane’s sauce?

Sauce.

My ottoman.

The T14s are still in the living room.

Does my head itch.

I want to stretch.

Scratch.

Does CFNA have an app?

Email.

Tray.

Laughter.

My nose is oily.

My knee.

Backpack.

Funny.

Text.

I am sitting on the cord.

Chair.

Flip flops.

Sharecker.

Orange.

Sharecker.

Why orange?

Color.

Flip flops.

Coral.

Crack

Krack.

Cord.

Roll.

Living Single.

Living single.

Cord.

Oily.

Cord.

Work.

Email.

EOD.

Lemonade.

Beyoncé.

Text.

I want to stretch.

Drip.

This is 40.

41.

November.

Sentences.

Do I think in words?

Do I think in sentences.

?.

It feels good to roll my neck.

So good.

Cracks ankle.

Right.

Do the gummies make me want to stretch?

Is that a thing.

Question mark.

Is my forehead oily.

Work.

When is the end of the day when you work at home.

The goss is tight on my elbow.

I have MS.

Multiple Sclerosis.

I had an infusion today.

I have MS.

Sometimes I don’t think about it.

Today I am thinking about it.

Fuck.

Should I respond to this person.

I have veneers.

I feel like working.

Where is the remote.

Am I going to do this all night?

No.

XOXO

Lesson: A gummy a day will keep the tears away

Question: What keeps your tears away?

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About Me, Mental Health, Therapy

Blah, Blah, Blah!!

I feel blah. I can’t quite put my finger on the cause. I have been feeling this way for going on two weeks now. I don’t think it is as severe as actual depression, but there are definite similarities. I don’t have a desire to do much of anything. Getting out of the bed takes an act of congress. I went to do my favorite thing in the world, karaoke, and barely sang at all. I just sat in the corner quietly. I hadn’t had any ideas of things to write about in this blog that I love until now.

I have a couple guesses of possible reasons:

  1. My money is hilarious. I have been spending a whole lot and saving very little. I have literally been robbing my future self. I have made too much this year and have nothing to show for it. Well, I do have a winning smile. Best money ever spent!!
  2. I have a friend who is going through several traumatic life events. I am unable to find the right words (or any words for that matter) to console in this situation and it hurts me dearly to see them suffering. Luckily, I do not believe my role in the friendship has ever been “advice giver” or even “voice of reason.” I am the friend who is there to listen and interject with humor from time to time.
  3. I love the company that I work for more than anything. The culture is supportive and collaborative. The benefits are remarkable. The people are genuine. However, I am no longer in love with my role. I have been in the recruiting space for so long that the thrill is gone. I wonder if I have been blah when it comes to my work for so long that I no longer find the joy. I am making steps to do a career transition to project management.
  4. It could possibly be the MS thing. I had an expensive surgery to combat my overactive bladder on September 26 and I have yet to see clear results. The doctor did say it will take at least two weeks.
  5. I am concerned about my diminishing cognitive reasoning skills. I had a mild panic attack after listening to a webinar discussing a new work related process a couple weeks ago. I could not comprehend anything the speaker said. She sounded like Charlie Brown’s mom. Wah wah wah. I immediately thought MS had fucked my brain. I think of myself as a relatively smart individual, but that day I felt dumb. Afterwards, I spoke to several other people (without MS) and they also were thoroughly confused by the presentation. I confided my feelings to my old manager. Turns out she felt the exact same way. She also said that she hoped none of her subordinates asked her to explain the process because she couldn’t.

I love personal development. In an effort to get out of this funk. I have been watching a lot of YouTube videos talking about “what to do when you are feeling blah,” “how to change your life in 6 months,” and “how to find motivation when you don’t feel like it.” YouTube is gold. I swear you can learn everything one tutorial at a time. I got my degree in makeup application from YouTube University a few years back. Summa Cum Laude.

The last one I watched had a very good suggestion:

“Find gratitude in every little thing. Get specific about all the things in life that you are grateful for. Open up your journal or a Word doc and start writing a list of sentences that begin with, “I am grateful…” or “I am blessed…”

– Lavendaire

Here it goes:

  • I am blessed to have an incredible human as a son. Mason Riley is a living prayer. He is extremely thoughtful. He inherited my sense of humor and can keep me laughing. He knows immediately when I just need a hug and a laugh.
  • I am blessed to have a mother who is a real life superwoman. She is a rock for everyone in her life. She is giving. She is able to complete any task she sets her mind to from reupholstering an entire living room to sewing every dress for an entire wedding party. I aspire to half the woman that she is.
  • I am blessed that my parents are alive, thriving and still married after nearly 50 years. I get to see what for better or worse looks like from the inside.
  • I am blessed that my bills are paid (except my phone bill. It will get paid when it gets paid) and I lack nothing.
  • I am blessed to finally work for an organization that genuinely makes me smile to think about. I am blessed to be 100% remote and not have to go into an office unless I choose to.
  • I am blessed my father is out of the hospital and doing remarkably well. He is so encouraging about everything that I do. I could say just about anything and then my dad will respond with pure delight. I could say “Daddy, I crossed the street today.” He would respond, “That’s so nice Badness. I knew you could do it!”
  • I am blessed to have a group of solid friends who are able to comfort with scripture and not gossip. Who show up for me whether I ask them to fly to Atlanta for my birthday very close to a holiday or when I need a ride to the emergency room because I cannot walk.
  • I am blessed to have a BFF who is by my side every step of the way. We’ve been friends for so long (30+ years) that I truly believe she knows me better than I know myself.
  • I am blessed to have come to the realization that I need to make big changes with my money management before a major financial emergency occurred.
  • I am blessed to have a soul mate. No, it isn’t a love interest. It’s a best friend who cherishes me, looks out for my best interest at all times, and is usually the first to notice when I am feeling blah.
  • I am blessed to have Hope, my counselor. She makes me think about things in new and insightful ways. She holds me accountable. I am able to tell her the dirty details of my life without judgement and receive wisdom in return. Plus, she laughs at my witty banter. I really love that.
  • I am blessed to have this blog as a means to journal my feelings. A place to be vulnerable. Readers have been tremendously supportive and engaged. Hope read my blog before our session yesterday and had very kind words (she also mentioned spelling and grammatical errors).

Writing this list was an excellent suggestion. I feel better. Energized. Not quite ready for world domination, but close.

XOXO

Lesson: “It’s a funny thing about life, once you begin to take note of the things you are grateful for, you begin to lose sight of the things that you lack.” – Germany Kent

Question: Do you ever feel blah? What is your routine for fighting feelings of blah? Any suggestions for me going forward?

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About Me

Daddy Issues

I have suffered with depression my entire life. I guess I was born with it. A chemical imbalance. I remember being 18 years old getting the shuttle to the Counseling Center just off the campus of the University of New Orleans. The shuttle was actually a courtesy police offer. Picture it, being dropped off to a therapist in a cop car. It is funny to think about now, however, it was my norm at that time. I don’t remember the counselor’s name. What I do remember is the way that she made me feel. Heard. She listened and genuinely cared about my mental health. I appreciate that.

Since then, counseling has been a constant in my life. I have gone months in between sessions. I always find my way back. My current counselor, Hope, is a staple to my life. I need her.

We met in 2017. I found her through my employer’s Employee Assistance Program (EAP). My search criteria was Black, female, and not old looking or acting. I won with Hope. Plus, I was able to get 6 sessions for free at a time. Every 6 sessions I would call my EAP with a new life issue and they would renew my sessions. Through my different job changes I have always checked to see if she was a part of the EAP program and she would be. More free sessions. Unfortunately, she is not a part of my current company’s EAP so now after all of these years I finally have to actually pay. It’s $25 per session. I have great insurance. It is always nice to get Hope’s input on my life. She gives me little assignments from time to time. My “The Shoulds” post was directly inspired by her. In our last session, I was able to come to a revelation. Eyes are now wide open.

I’ve been intensely angry with my daddy. It has been some time. Maybe two years. I have treated him differently. For the last 39 years of my life I played the role of best friend to my dad. He had his faults for sure, but I gave him grace. He basically could do no wrong in my eyes. We would talk almost daily and there would be a lot of laughs. He’s an unintentionally hilarious person. I would hear both sides of the arguments between him and my mom and always take my dad’s side. He did no wrong.

One day it all changed. I started noticing his faults. Not new faults, the same ones that he had all along that I steadily gave grace to. One day I no longer was on his side. One day I started remembering the times in my life that he failed as a my daddy. I started to see him as a man. A flawed man. A flawed husband. My daddy hadn’t changed. My daddy did not do anything to me that would justify how I treated him. But I did. I exiled him from my life. I stopped calling to check in on him. I no longer took his side. My daddy was no longer the example of manhood that I had created in my mind for 39 years. But let’s be 100% clear. He has never done anything to me that made the way I treated him fair or even okay. Every two weeks I would tell Hope some silly thing he did 30 years ago. Something that I nearly forgot. Something that did not matter to me at the time. Something basically insignificant. To give an example, I played softball when I was a kid. Every summer my mom would sign me up for the YMCA’s softball league. I have never been an athlete, or athletic or skilled at any sport. My dad would bring me to my weekly softball games and he would sit in his car in the parking lot while I played the game (or sat the bench). I would get my snack once the game was over and then head back to the car and we would go home. We would talk about the game. I’d eat my snack. Just as content as I could be.

Now, 30+ years later I am sitting on the virtual couch telling Hope that my dad would sit in the car instead of watching my game as if it is now an excuse for the way I have completely exiled him. It is not an excuse. It did not bother me then. Why does it now?

My mom and I have gotten extremely close these last few years. My mom is great. She is literally Super Woman able to accomplish all tasks put in her to-do bucket. She sews entire weddings, she reupholsters sofas in her spare time, she has retired twice from two different careers, she takes care of my daddy in every capacity and she is the rock of her siblings and her immediate family. The older I am I can see now that my mom takes care of everything and everyone….. but herself. She doesn’t have an outlet and no friends to confide in when her husband (my dad) does something stupid or selfish. Because of that, she confides in me. I am her friend. She involves me in her side of the marriage in a way you would include your counselor. I am not my mom’s counselor. I am her youngest daughter.

I have been added in as the third wheel of their marriage. I embraced my mom’s disappointment, frustration, and disgust of my dad as if it is my own. He ain’t my husband. He is my father. I shouldn’t know these things. I shouldn’t hold the things that he does to her against him. He is not my husband. She chose to marry him, not me. She said, “I do,” 49 years ago and she chooses to stay with him everyday. As my father he has done everything in his power to be the dad that he did not have for me. Honestly, he contributed to me being a spoiled brat at the age of 40. He has his flaws as a husband, not a daddy.

Hope opened my eyes to that fact. I feel like a weight has been lifted. I cannot be mad at him. I think I am going to call him right now and laugh about something. I need a laugh after this revelation.

XOXO

Lesson: Stop fighting my mom’s battles.

Question: What have you learned in counseling?

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About Me, Chapter 2, Mental Health, Multiple Sclerosis

Botox

I had surgery this morning. Onabotulinumtoxin Injection. I had Botox injected into my bladder to help with my overactive bladder. This is the second time that I have it so I knew what to expect. It is an outpatient procedure.

How do I feel? Physically, like a regular day. No side effects or down time needed. Mentally, I am sad. I have an incurable disease that has created the need to wear incontinence underwear. It is far from sexy. I feel the opposite of sexy wearing them. But unfortunately, I wear them consistently. Therefore, I had Botox injected into my bladder. I had the surgery with the hope that I could stop wearing incontinence underwear for six months.

Occasionally when things are quiet on the MS front, I almost forget that I have it. Well, “forget” is a strong word. I do not think about the fact that I have it. Today is not one of those days.

XOXO

Lesson: Stop buying the higher priced incontinence underwear that look like underwear. No one is seeing them either way.

Question: What do you do when you are feeling sad?

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Love Life

John Carl Williams

I met my original work friend at The Common Table for their Hip Hop Brunch one Sunday. I was hella cute with a black and white striped dress and some leopard wedges. I was ready to catch somebody’s son.

Legs. Legs. Legs.

My friend and I sat at the bar like single ladies should. My seat was next to a guy who was by himself. I smiled. We had some witty banter. He had a vibe. He wasn’t conventionally attractive. His personality made him attractive. His name is going to be John Carl Williams (JCW). I have a thing for saying full names. I can’t explain why because I really don’t know.

JCW was suave, witty and had a sense of humor. An excellent sense of humor. I’m smiling just thinking about him. His personality was cool enough to where all three of us were able to have a conversation. Lots of laughs. JCW and I exchanged numbers. Mission accomplished. I caught somebody’s son.

He was gazing at me and not the camera. Butterflies.

Our first date was to RA Sushi for all day happy hour. This was when I was heavy into fitness and healthy eating choices. My body looked so good. I wore these high waisted black leggings that made my legs look luscious and my belly look nonexistent. It turned out that RA didn’t have the happy hour so we ended up at Pluckers. I smile when I recall our first date. Our interaction was as if we had known each other for years. Easy conversation. We laughed. We drank. We took shots with his friends on FaceTime. It was a complete vibe. I immediately felt like he was my one. My one in a million.

Easy Conversation – Jill Scott

I realize now it is completely outrageous for me to think he was my anything after a couple hours. I fall hard. I fall deep. And I fall quick. If there is a vibe and he shows a little bit of interest, then I get butterflies in my stomach and start fantasizing about the future. For the record, this is something that I am currently working on with Hope. I get so wrapped up in the fantasy. Instantaneously. I say things like, “love of my life,” and “this is the one” before I know their last name.

Red is my favorite color.

JCW and I met for drinks one Sunday evening at the Red Crab. They make crawfish that is almost as good as it is at home. Louisiana. I wore a black dress that fit as if it was made for my body. We sat at the bar, had friendly banter with the bartenders. He was outgoing like me. I had a 1942 tequila shot for the first and only time. I loved JCW’s presence. He was extremely witty with a touch of sarcasm. Like me. He consistently wore Air Max. I believe he had every color of the ‘97. The same ones that I have a few pairs of. A common interest. In my freshman year of college I would only date guys who wore Air Max. That shoe does something for me. His shoes made me think we had a magical connection. He drove a red Dodge Challenger. He wore a red sweatshirt when we met. My favorite color. Irrelevant common interests that meant something special to me. It was meant to be. I imagined telling our grandchildren we met by chance and were immediately inseparable. My happily ever after. Complete delusion.

He asked about my day. That afternoon I went to brunch at Kona Grill with a friend. He asked, “was it a date?” It wasn’t. I’d went to brunch with the same female friend I was with when we originally met. She and I have monthly brunches.

I responded by acting coy. Flustered. Like I didn’t want to say that I was with a guy earlier the same day. I excused myself and went to the restroom. Dramatic. It gave the impression that I had had a date with a man. I didn’t out right lie. But, I did at the same time.

What was I thinking?!? I felt he would be more interested. If I was seeing other people, then I’d look attractive. He would then stake his claim on me, say he didn’t want me to see other people, and we would become exclusive. If you read my first blog, then you’d know this is not the first time I made this stupid decision. I hadn’t learned the lesson.

As you can imagine he didn’t respond as I thought he would. He became cold towards me. Calls became infrequent. I did eventually tell him the truth. By that time, his opinion of me had already changed. I was an immature liar. Our interactions were no longer good vibes. Dates became nonexistent. Texts became one word responses. There was no happily ever after.

This was more than a year ago now. I feel sad when thinking about him, my stupid response and how he acted afterwards. Regretful and immature. To be honest, I think about him a lot. Still. The fantasy of our happily ever after. I want to call him. I really do. Thankfully, I deleted his information months ago. I knew I’d want to call. And I knew he wouldn’t answer if I did.

XOXO

Lesson: Saying that you are seeing other people does not make you irresistible.

Question: I have two levels, complete delusion or complete disinterest. Will I find my in between?

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Multiple Sclerosis

Grace

A multiple sclerosis (MS) diagnosis is considered a disability. I have a whole disability. Wow. Intellectually, I know that I have MS. However, I still forget that I need accommodations in certain instances because of my disability. I cannot do everything I used to do. I have limitations. Sad face.

My major limitation is that I have an intense bladder control issue. I accommodate for it 90% of the time. I have accepted it. I have had an issue controlling my bladder for 20+ years. It’s a part of my story. I pee. Often. In odd locations. I once pulled into the U-turn lane on highway 114. Opened my door and squatted right there!!! The urge comes immediately and at that minute everything stops until I am able to void. I know this. The people in my life all know this.

I’m currently on a plane headed back home to DFW reflecting on the events of the wellness weekend in Arizona to celebrate my dear friend’s milestone birthday. There were six absolutely dynamic women. Of the 6, I knew only one very well. The birthday girl. The vibe was relaxation, wellness and laughter. I truly loved every aspect of my trip. It was the perfect time getaway from all responsibility. Everything was planned perfectly. I didn’t have to think about anything. Ultimate bliss.

Strike a pose.

I only mentioned my condition in passing on the trip. Every single lady extended me grace to my limitations. We went on a two hour road trip to Sedona. I, of course, had to stop several times for restroom breaks. Not one person complained. Nobody said, “AGAIN?!?” They even would check with me to see if I needed to stop before I even had to think about. The Arizona heat was close to the temperature of hell. It was hot. MS tends to flare in the heat. They would tell me to get out of the direct sun. “Try sitting in this shaded area,” “stay out of the deep end (I am not a strong swimmer),” and “let me hold your hand as you get out of the van.” There was genuine concern for my well-being. I felt it. It felt like love. I greatly appreciate it. I felt welcomed just as I am, bladder and all. Grace is love.

The devil started talking to me. He said, “you are handicapped.” He laughed and said, “you cannot do everything that used to.” For a moment, I listened. That damn devil is here to steal, kill and destroy. I’d like to also add that he is here to isolate. For a moment, I put my head down. I felt the sadness rising in my gut. I needed a minute. Relax. Relate. Release.

But then I heard another voice. It was calm, comforting and reassuring. God is here. He said, “don’t focus on the few things that you cannot do. Instead, focus on all the other capabilities that I continue to give you.” Jesus.

I am a child of the Most High. He is my keeper, my confidant, my husband and my all. He chose me before parents knew I was coming. Praise Him! Hallelujah!! Thank you Lord. I feel so blessed right now that I could shout on this plane.

XOXO

Lesson: Jehovah Jireh. God provides.

Question: Has God talked you through a valley?

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Love Life

Stanley

My BFF and I were driving down 183 passing his exit. I asked if she was in a rush or not. No. We headed to Stanley’s.

Stanley

I knew Stanley for a while. I’d been to his place a few times and remembered the directions perfectly. Stanley and I had been situationshipping, but he hadn’t been responding to my calls lately. Which was extra weird considering that I was calling the phone that I gave him. Gosh, I was stupid. I am stupid. I used to be stupid. I won’t be stupid anymore.

BFF and I drove around the maze of the parking lot and parked Action Adventure* in the spot directly in front of his apartment. We were in her car. I figured he wouldn’t know the car. Smart, right?

I sat in the passenger seat of my BFF’s car and called Stanley thirty five times. In a row. Back to back. Why? To this day I have no Earthly idea what was my intention. What could dialing this man’s phone number, back to back, 35 times in a row accomplish? Did I think that these actions would end in a positive result? I couldn’t. Could I? Did I?

He answered.

I gasped. Shocked.

He said, “are you in front of my place?” I gasped, “huh?”

I’m sure you could imagine how that conversation went. What the hell was I thinking? What was the point? Why? Just why?!?!?! This has been 10+ years ago and I still do not know the answer.

Fast forward. I had a Black male colleague on my team for the first time in a long time and we became friends. One day we were talking about our friends and some way some how I figured out that my colleague’s best friend since youth was Stanley. You have got to be kidding me!?! Nope. Best friends! I confessed to my 35 calls from the parking lot to my colleague. We laughed. We moved on.

My team from work went to The Hideaway for happy hour on pay day and guess who wanted to come? Yep. Stanley. By this time I had told the whole team about 35. I should probably be ashamed, but it is too funny for me to hide. So when Stanley walks up everyone had a good laugh at my story again.

Stanley and I reconnected. Laughed about 35. Exchanged information and have been in touch again. For a few years. We connect every now and then. Have a few laughs and then go our separate ways.

We laughed recently. It was fun. I wondered if I’d been missing out by not taking him seriously. Could I actually be with Stanley after all of this time?

Fuck no! Stanley is still Stanleying and I do not have the energy for his level of foolishness.

We can laugh. But I’ll never cry for him again.

XOXO

Lesson: Once ‘ain’t no good’. Always ‘ain’t no good.’

Question: Why do I still entertain Stanley knowing that he ‘ain’t no good?’

*Action Adventure is when you back into a parking spot just in case you have to leave expeditiously.

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Love Life

Part 2: Who pays?

Let me catch you up on Kramer.

We met online last Friday. We agreed to have a meet and greet at City Works in the Star for dessert that night. I arrived before him and ordered a Green Tea Shot to take the edge off. I also ordered an Angry Orchard. Kramer arrived. Cool. I ordered the Peanut Butter Snickers Pie. He ordered a water and no dessert. He already ate and doesn’t drink alcohol anymore. He showed me some pictures he just took of himself at the Star across the street before coming to City Works. Cool. I finished my very delicious dessert. The check came. Bartender placed the bill in the middle of us. Kramer immediately picked it up and looks at the bill and says, “wow, you’re expensive.” Hmmm. He paid. We went across the street to the Star and I took some post worthy pictures. Fun. We walked into the hotel lobby at the Star and sat in some cute chairs. We had more conversation. We talked about work, the struggle of the Black man, empty nests, and church homes. He said some things that were strange to me. He said he is a “leg guy” and how much he loved my legs. Repeatedly. He showed me pictures that he took of my legs while I wasn’t paying attention. Stalker. The way he went on about my legs was creepy. Yes, I have long and luscious legs. I know this. But he was borderline obsessed. It was extra creepy. I said that I had something to do and we parted ways. Kramer is a weird dude. Therefore, I am just not that into him.

A couple days went by and he asked me to go for drinks or to come over “chill” or play in the pool. I made excuses why I did not want to go a few times. He asked me if I was interested in him and I replied, “I have reservations.” He sent a few more texts and then a couple days later is when I he sent this essay…

He asked me to Cash App him the money that he spent at City Works. He thinks that I intentionally used him for the $27 bill.

First, I am not the kind of person who is looking for a sponsor. I have a career. I make money. I pay my own way. Second, if he could not afford the bill, then he should have let me know. He shouldn’t have asked to meet. He shouldn’t be dating at all for that matter.

His opinion of me should not matter to me. Unfortunately, it does anyway. I don’t want to be known as some dessert digging woman. I am considering sending him the money. Not the entire bill, just the money for the shot and cider. The original plan was dessert only, not drinks and dessert.

XOXO

Lesson: Find a man who uses autocorrect properly.

Question: Who should pay?

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Love Life

Do you block?

Block This Caller

Today I’m talking to the single people specifically!!

You meet a guy. You hit it off. You give him your phone number. He screws up. You no longer want to communicate with him. Do you use the Block feature? Or do you just stop calling and/or answering? That is the question!

I use Block for telemarketers. No hesitation. However, in my dating life I haven’t used it.

When I cut someone from the roster I just stop calling. Majority of the time when I’ve made the “do not call” decision I guess the dudes have made the same decision because I rarely have received any follow up communication.

In special circumstances, I will delete contact information and the text conversation from my phone. He no longer exists to me. This is when I know that in an inebriated state I would have a strong desire to contact him and if I have the access to their contact information then I would definitely use it. My guess is he probably wouldn’t answer. I would get sad that he didn’t answer and mad that I called in the first place. This set of events would then cause me to eat something sweet. I’d order an Oreo Madness AND a Cinnabon Caramel Pecan Cheesecake from TGIFridays through Door Dash. Yes. I am referring to actual events that have occurred. His name is. . . John Carl Williams. The name has been changed to protect me. In the past, I would refer to him by his full government name.

I’m currently considering blocking Kramer. He keeps texting paragraphs. I’m pretty sure that he wants to ask me to give him the money he spent on me since I do not like him. He wants to talk today after work. I’m curious to hear what he has to say. I definitely will not be sending him any money. I’ll block him afterwards. I am sure this chat will be great content.

XOXO

Lesson: Just block him.

Question: Who’s the last person that you blocked?

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