Monday, February 14, 2011

My Big Fat Valentine


This is the abbreviated version of my quest to get find my first valentine. It is about time someone declares for me or at least stand there while I declare for myself.


November 2010


I realize that I am turning 27 in the following year and somehow, due to a multitude of different circumstances, I have never had a valentine. I am single at the moment and for the first time in a long time, have declared myself open to the possibility of a relationship—not with the same end goals like marriage as with most of my female colleagues but for companionship and an opportunity to share my life with someone while enjoying theirs as well—and so I decide to get proactive.
I purchase two tickets for Valentine’s Day 2011 to see the amazing Chris Botti in concert at the Kennedy Hall. If you don’t know who that is, poor you. Google will hook you up with information. Note: He is mine!!!!
In any case, tickets are bought. I begin to strategise how to find and maintain my “special male friend” . My theory: I have about two months to build at least a friendship and the possibility that he would be willing to attend the event. If he possibly plans an early or late dinner, I have the experience part covered with the jazz show. So you know, we both have fun. And Chris Botti.

I go contemplate the gym. Not liking the way my figure looks. Want to fit into a nice dress on V-day. Start investing in my hair. And with the price of weaves, putting them in, keeping them okay, extensions for braiding, it is indeed an investment.
I declare full out war on my acne.
Buy an instruction book on how to apply eye shadow so it does not look like something is growing on my eyelids.
I get to work

December 2010
I have a confusing social network. I am either a minority (by age, race and even gender), or not interested in anyone within one group or the other, have no clue about the socializing rules within the context, come across a bit weird or too strong.
Due to personal choices, opportunities to mix and mingle are limited.
Still, I am optimistic. I have one whole month.
I even start working out…like I mean, “start”. Like, I pop in the Brazilian Butt Lift Workout and watch it like a movie. You should. The trainer is a trip.
A friend suggests speed dating. I look at her like she is unstable.
Then I think about it.
No.
Maybe….
No.
I still have a month, dude.
Meet a guy. Super excited. He’s nice, funny, has travelled, reads, a lot, listens to music I have never heard of, eats almost anything and does not put on an ounce, very hot, makes me wish I had taken the butt lift system serious, makes me consider just how nice my current selection of underwear is, loves movies…
And smokes.
So he is off my list.
I am bummed.
I go see a movie.
I am the only one there by myself. This is not new.
But suddenly, I am aware.
However, the movie is amazing. I love it!!!!
I get home.
I read. Polish off a script.
Go through my calendar for the next couple of weeks and realize that I cannot make it to any of the new year’s parties because I am going to be at the Eck Center helping out with a children’s play. There: no one in my age group to talk to, talk less of a potential date. But we are giving service and doing God’s work.
No worries, I have a month.

January 2011
Lord have mercy.


Week one: packing up the office and moving to another location after 20 years in one place.


Week Two: International conference, dealing with attendees from all over the developed and developed world.


  • “Did we mistakenly book you on a flight to New Zealand Sir, instead of DC? Yes? Our Bad…how’s the weather, while we try to find a plane coming in this direction”

  • “Je m’excuse, madame. Je ne parle pas Francais. Eh…argent? What does that mean? Yes, I am African…No, I don’t speak French…Yesss, I come from one of the places the British got to. Thank you for your commiserations. How did the French do with you guys? No better? Awesome. Would you like some tea? Yeah, I am freezing too.”

  • “No habla espanole”

  • “No habla Portuguese…hun? That’s not Portuguese? Oh, you don’t even speak Portuguese? What were you speaking then? Italian? Wow? No hand movements and everything. Got me confused. Yes, I will go stand in the corner.

  • “Girl, I think I have killed my little toe. What’s that? The little protruding flesh on your foot that if all went well, should have a nail attached to it.

  • “Thank you sir for coming. We loved having you here. See you in six months.”

  • “Please send these boxes to this building. We are out”

  • “Put off the lights"

  • “Oh my God, Sir, you just arrived from New Zealand? The conference is over…Please accept these complimentary tickets to go see Black Swann…”

  • “Is it just me or did he seem a bit upset to you? …… I like his leather messenger bag. Who turns down tickets to Black Swann. Maybe we should have given him tickets to “For Colored Girls”

Week Three: Errr, where’s my office?
·



  • “Excuse me Manager, I was at the conference all of last week. When I got to my allotted space, err, it’s a wall”.

  • “Can I at least have a chair if I am going to be…u know what, is anyone staying in the closet? I can make it work. I have an undergraduate degree in architecture, I can construct…oops, I lied, No thanks…”

  • “Thank you manager, I found my office. It’s on another floor."

  • “Excuse me Manager, my phone does not work.”

  • “Excuse me Manager, my computer is only accepting commands in French…how come I am just finding out now? I went on the new office tour…"

  • "Excuse me Manager, my office door won’t open from the inside. Had to hold my pee for an hour till someone walked by…I might not have made it…but for the potted plant in my office.

  • I need a vacay.

Week Four:



  • Conference report and reviews

  • Balancing checkbooks

  • Planning for the rest of fiscal year.

  • Meetings

  • “Wait, what is today’s date?”

February 2011



  • “Girl, it’s me….yeah, happy to call you too. Have an issue. Err, I have two weeks to find a date to go see Chris Botti…Chris Botti…B…Oh…Tee…Tee…Eye. Jazz artist. Jay A. A. Anyways…what? No, I don’t want to go with him. Cos he is always telling me that my hips tell him, I can breed well….do something.”

  • “Hey Girl, long time, so…uhm, about that Speed dating thing…”

  • “Me, I work for an environmental agency. You? You collect guns? Awesome…where do I live? In Paris. I am only in DC for the speed dating event.”

  • “Yes, I do go to bars to order watered down orange juice. The bartender does not like me. Why does he not like you? You brought me here? Oh.”

  • “How is it that I am looking for one freaking date in this city and you have four men revolving around you like misplaced planets and you get engaged a month and a half after meeting someone? What are you into, Voodoo? Oh, did I say that loud? I looooove you.”

  • “What’s today again? Feb 11th? You’ve got to be kidding me.


February 14, 2011
In any case, I am off to see my future hubby at the Kennedy Center tonight. Yes, I know, I am seated to the side, possibly in the shadows. Don’t worry, he will know I am there.
And that is all that matters.
Oh, I brought a friend.

5 comments:

QuTh said...

At least it wasn't wasted.. Much better than some of us could say....

Natural Nigerian said...

Best laid plans....Happy Valentine's day all the same.

~B~ said...

lol, love the picture painting. hope you at least had fun at the concert!!

LucidLilith said...

lol...by far the most entertaining post I have read in quite a while!

Good luck on all these changes...and for heaven's sake stop watching fitness videos like movies. Get up and move!

Kold_Kadavr_flatliner said...

Grrr. Git some followers, girl --- Here's what I want in Heaven. Ever wonder if sex is allowed in Heaven? I don't wish. I know. Love make'n for the length and breadth of eternity? Soft, slow, and smoooth, interspersed with deliciousNnutritious Pi? The big O for days, or weeks, screeem'n, sighing, sobbing... is definitely allowed. God would NOT create the glory of Heaven without joy. No, you don't gotta with me, you don't gotta with anyone, only an option for those who wanna make love a part of their eternity; yet, just imagine: twenty-one? a hundred? ten thousand one? handsome, tall, gentle, muscular guys + you alone + seventeen years + nude swimming in the shallow ocean + flying + nude floating + erotic, bedtime stories at dusk + whatever your precious and precocious heart comes-up with ... Owch. But, yet, ya must git-up thar first; must be humble enough to see the need for repentance in this finite existence (I go every month). Why not? Why wouldn't Almighty God allow that super-freek'n-dooper, glorious high for a month or seventy-seven-weeks?? See? Heaven ain't as boring or tasteless as you might think, doll; God loves you and God wants to provide the best for you. I want Heaven to be with you, too, to serve you, honor you, love you, nekk witchoo, cherish you for all eternity. For those few who actually achieve the Great Beyond, girly? God sez, 'They had to put-up with total crap on earth? No mo, brudda. Everything's theirs in Heaven'. We cannot stay here: all of U.S. must croak someday. So, decide if this whorizontal, lifelong demise is worth the slowly unraveling, unending joy of Heaven. God Bless You, girl --- Meet me Upstairs. We'll have a blast and a half. Lots of those. +sexponential.blogspot.com+