Years ago a single woman past twenty-five was surely on her way to spinsterhood. By thirty what upstanding man would have anything to do with her? These days women have worked to loosen those pressures but to what avail? We can work and take care of ourselves easily without the support of a man. But if the natural instinct to cuddle up with someone kicks in the obstacle of finding a decent loyal guy to snuggle up beside you is like mission impossible.
In the past six months I’ve had The Fade pulled on me and not by some three or four month fling. I’ve known the guy over a decade and we’d been hanging out seven months before The Fade move. And it wasn’t even a fade. It was more of a “not speaking to me anymore type thing” with no explanation. No argument. No conversation. Just cut off.
Hurt, I meditated and fasted to get over my pain and availed to keep my head up. I met a new guy who seemed super interested and took my time to get to know him. One month in though I came to realize he was looking for someone to pay his bills. I’m not an ATM. [...]
In a recent conversation with friends we got to talking about men and women here in New York City. I freely admitted that many New York women are aggressive and hostile. From those low calorie diets and long hours in the office coupled with the need to control everything in their lives, including their men, New York women can be quite off putting if not downright offensive sometimes.
The worse of it all is these women take this aggressiveness as a badge of honor of what it means to be a New York woman. Sorry, I’ll pass. Witty, smart, fire cracker, beautiful, alluring, sexy and independent does not mean grabbing every guy by the balls and twisting them off his body. [...]
I’m sitting on the M2 express bus this afternoon as the driver expertly dips in and out of rush hour traffic on Madison Avenue. The air conditioning blows throughout the bus full throttle creating a moving refrigerator. So cold in fact one needs a sweater, but no one complains as the alternative is the hot and muggy temps outside.
I got on the bus early so I got a window seat far enough back that I wouldn’t have to worry about giving my seat up to the elderly, handicap or pregnant. Not that I mind but hey if I can keep my seat without guilt, I prefer that option. With my IPod crooning old school Usher into my ears and the bus too packed to back seat drive I look out of the window. Block after block I see men and women leaving work and rushing down the street. At first I didn’t notice it but then after a few blocks it was impossible not to see how much everyone looked the same. The men were all wearing dark or khaki colored pants with blue, white or light pink button down oxford shirts. [...]
I’m pissed off and feeling desperate all at the same time. It’s a horrible feeling. In the past four months I’ve been kicked off of unemployment twice because I ran out time to collect my allocated benefits. If they’ll only release one check a week how the hell do I run out of time to collect them? I’m ready to go kick someone’s ass down at somebody’s state office somewhere here in the city. Oh, wait. Damn! I have no money on my metro card. Well, when I get my next check I’ll be down there!
In the meantime I’ve been looking for cash only gigs to help me illegally supplement my unemployment benefits while I look for a job and finish draft two of my novel. After an in-depth perusal on craigslist I realize that my business degree and corporate experience, global or not, has really left me at a disadvantage. [...]
Remember the days of imaginary friends? In my early years I freely talked to myself and at times freaked my mother out to think there was someone else in our house, only to find me in deep conversation with no one but me. An only child until five years old it was a great way to keep myself company.
Fast forward a couple of decades and talking to an imaginary person out loud is not so cute. Sure we mumble things aloud at times as our mind races continuously without pause, but the full blown imaginary friend conversation days are over. So, if that’s the case and imaginary conversations are no longer acceptable in adult society why are there so many people accusing each other of imaginary shit. [...]
You’re standing on the edge of a cliff. The sun is quickly setting off in the horizon and night will be upon you before you know it. If you don’t jump now you won’t have the benefit of daylight and instead you’ll be jumping off into a black abyss. It’s now or never.
You’ve made this jump before, countless times. Yet, each time you stand there as anxiety and fear grips at your chest and clogs your throat. Your stomach churns into a knot and you’re frozen with fright as self-sabotaging thoughts race through your mind. What if you don’t jump far enough only to land on top the jagged rocks below? What if you jump too far and miss the soft waters of the lake all together? [...]
Living in New York City can be hectic. Cars, people, kids, horns, the never-ending stream of construction projects, ice-cream trucks, fireman, police cars, delivery guys, irritable New Yorkers, the metro, the list can go on for days (feel free to insert your own list here). The busy chaos only increases with the lure of warm weather and sunshine.
So when a friend suggested I embark on a six-day silent meditation retreat with her I immediately said yes and then worried about the reality of the ordeal later. The main question on my mind was, “what will I do all day?” It’s not just a silent retreat but a meditation retreat. Will I sit crossed-legged like the Buddha meditating ALL DAY? [...]
I’m not interested in finding a husband, having a couple of whiny kids fighting in the background, waking at the crack of dawn to get the husband and kids out the door for work and school along with myself to then come home cook, clean and deal with the husband and whiny kids again before falling exhausted into bed each night. Then step and repeat day after day until the kids leave the nest, the husband leaves me for a younger woman or I die. Maybe I’m being too hard on the institution of marriage. Perhaps, I’m not seeing its beauty. [...]
I woke up today with a pounding headache. My body aches and I feel as if I might be coming down with a fever. At first I figured it must be super early in the morning, like seven o’clock, for me to be feeling this way. When I looked at my mobile phone’s digital clock (the only clock I own) the actual time was twelve thirty in the afternoon. Frick! I’ll never make it to my writing group on time. It starts at two o’clock and it takes me an hour to get anywhere on the east side of Manhattan below the 80′s, although I live on the east side myself. Go figure. [...]
June actually brought warm weather this year and this summer I have it all. No stressful office politics to contend with or feelings of suicide over my current workload. Instead I have air conditionings during the hot days, views of Central Park, late mornings of sleeping in and free time to do as I please. Just yesterday I spent an hour mapping out things to do this summer in the city for free, oh lucky moi.
Shakespeare in the Park, Museum Mile festival, Summer Stage, free readings, the Harlem Book Fair, the African Arts Festival, Pride, museums and cheap eats with all those restaurant.com gift certificates I cash in with unused frequent flier miles that I’ll never use with United. The list is endless. [...]