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Archive for the month “December, 2013”

You Wore Your Fake Hair Today: A Holiday Party Don’t

We recently had our company holiday party and it was nice. The company sprang for a lovely lunch and a brief cocktail hour at a local hotel ballroom.


Something that really surprised me was how casually people were dressed for this event. We are in a creative industry, and most of the people at my job aren’t in suits and heels or stockings everyday, but I assumed since we were having an offsite holiday party, folks would step it up.

The IT guys did wear ties, and some people did have a festive edge to their ensembles, wearing red, greens, golds.
I chose to get in the spirit, and I wore a great gold metallic H&M sweater with a long leather looking green skirt. I slicked my hair down and added some hair to make a simple bun. Some red lipstick and I was good to go.
I had a lot of really nice compliments until one co-worker said the unthinkable.
“Yes, doesn’t she look nice? You even have your fake hair in today.”

I couldn’t hold back. The look on my face shot daggers because I couldn’t believe this woman had the nerve to say what she said.
Another woman in the conversation, “complimented” my hair, said that it looked very nice and she really had no idea I included some extra hair. Then looking very awkward, she took a swig from her wine glass.

After giving the offensive woman, probably the side eye of certain death, she waddled away.

When desserts were being served, she wanted to remark about how great my sweater was and at that point I just wanted her to shut up.
When I wear hair pieces or wear braids, I don’t broadcast that they are extensions. Clearly they are. I don’t have a problem with it, and I usually don’t mind if people ask me questions about my hair, I’ll give them the answer I feel like giving and move on. It’s far better than them just reaching in and petting me like an animal.

What I can’t go for is what that woman said. “You even have your fake hair in today.” It wasn’t even a simple, “I like your hair, or it looks nice.”

To me, that awkward statement was akin to saying to someone, “Your fake boobs look great in that top.”

“Grandma, you’re wearing your dentures today!”

There’s no need to point out the fakeness of something to attribute how special it is. Just compliment the thing you like about it, or just leave it alone. Actually, it isn’t a compliment to point out if something is fake. And this isn’t limited to holiday parties. Just don’t do that ever.

Bonus Post: The Beyonce Conversation

I think even people living under a rock found out about Beyonce’s surprise new album that dropped this week.

The reactions to her musical colossus were all over the place. It left culture and music critics scrambling to figure out how to describe it and define it. The feminists were in a tizzy about how feminist it was or it was not. People who weren’t big fans of hers were irritated with the saturation of their social media timelines and the fans/stans/etc. their cult-like praise was in over drive.

So people have been sending me the articles either in favor of, or against Mrs. Carter, Beyzus, Yonce, Sasha Fierce, Peaches, Baddie Bey, King Bey or whatever you want to call her.

My feelings are mixed. I was accused of being a stan this week when I was reacting to Bey’s whopping 17 videos released with the album on Twitter. Because they were all pretty awesome and visually stunning. Then on the flipside, I was sent a link that was basically ripping Bey to pieces and saying she is a horrible person for black or brown women to aspire to be.

Here’s where I fall, in case yall wanted to know or care. And you may be so tired of Beyonce right now, that you don’t feel like reading yet another blog post or article about her. Here is what I wrote to the person who sent me the more negative link.

When Beyonce came out with Destiny’s Child, I didn’t like her. I was shamed into not liking her because she was always singing lead, she was the light-skinned girl and her daddy managed the group. I was shamed into not supporting her because if I did, it would affirm to others that I believed light-skinned girls were prettier and better than everyone else and they were allowed to have the spotlight regardless. As a light-skinned girl who saw the beauty in all women, I didn’t want people to think that. Folks assumed that about me anyway. Me and Bey are basically the same age. I could not openly stan for Bey. So while I enjoyed DC’s music, I publicly hated Beyonce. Made jokes about how she won’t let the other girls sing, and I gushed about Kelly and said LaTavia seemed to have the spunk of the group. Greg made fun of me about what a Bey hater I was and he even brought up the light-skinned thing. I shrugged him off, but he was right.

Some time had passed and VH1s Divas came on. Beyonce was about to break out in her solo career and she preformed “Dangerously in Love.” And.She.Nailed it. She wore a gorgeous gown and sang her face off with so much soul. You could tell she wanted to prove to everyone she was much more than the lead singer of a group and that she deserved her spot in the light. At that point, I felt like she finally “earned” my respect. I’ve seen Beyonce shows. That woman works hard and has so many people picking at everything she does. Beyonce hasn’t gotten into any major trouble, she’s been meticulous about her brand, she is a philanthropist and does a lot of work for women and children in Houston, back home. And you can tell she admires smart people. She stans for Michelle Obama because she is so educated and has used her mind to be successful. To me, that says a lot about Beyonce and the kind of woman she wants to be, and the woman people assume she is.

I think the hero-worship and fandom/standom is scary. But I actually respect Beyonce a great deal. I can respect anyone who is a hard worker and she really works at what she does and has high expectations, down to every detail. I think it’s safe to say, she pushes herself to new levels all of the time. If every fan decided to work at what they do with the same vigor, despite haters and negative talk about them, we would have a nation of very strong, capable people. If Beyonce can inspire women to be better and work harder, that’s the message that should get out there. But because people are so stupid, they take a lot of stuff at face value and they just want to be rich and beautiful and sexy. I love the fact that people of all cultures and mainstream and black magazines alike are really trying to dissect her latest album and discuss feminism and culture and how black women are looked at. There’s another article floating around that Beyonce isn’t for regular black women because she flaunts her wealth. What who and what is a regular black woman? After reading a powerful and sad article in the Washington Post about a woman waiting on her assistance on the 8th of every month and getting her children to apply for ebt cards so they can get more food for the family, that’s not me either. I’m not knocking that woman. But let’s face it. The world either wants me to be her, or Sharkeshia. They don’t even expect me to be Beyonce. That’s all we have. That’s mostly what the media wants to project us to be. I’m not even Michelle Obama, but I can still relate to her. And thank God she’s real. She’s not an actress, she’s a real person who worked hard, and achieved and landed in one of the most powerful houses in the land. But among those figures, it seems like black women don’t have much wiggle room and that bothers me. Because I know all kinds of black women. Funny, serious, silly, sexy. Hard-working. Impressive, quiet, loud, sensitive, courageous.

I appreciate the conversations Beyonce is generating.  That says a lot about her influence. You can’t be mad at that. I’m not. She had all the intellectual black women going nuts at the fact she sampled Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie‘s recent TED talk in her song “Flawless.” I went nuts too, because I recently watched that video the week before and loved everything that young woman said. I plan to purchase and read some of her books over the holiday.

That is not the move of a vapid, pop star. Something else is evolving as Beyonce matures and I’m probably going to like her music even more going forward, because even though I’m not a wealthy, beloved pop star and sex symbol, I’m a woman in my 30s, feeling more comfortable in who I am, and making firm decisions about how I define my life, and success and love. I better understand my value, my faults, what I know, what I don’t know. What makes me happy. What I need to leave alone and what I need to do to make my life fuller. That my inner voice is very real, and should have a significant vote.

I don’t like how people attack her for being proud of being a wife. Black women should want to have in tact families and be in healthy relationships where there is genuine love, respect and partnership. And even though I would have never seen it coming, she coming from a two parent upper middle class family and Jay, coming from the projects with a dad who left, their relationship should give folks hope that it can be done.

I don’t like the vitriolic hate and I don’t like the religion-like cult blind allegiance either. But that heifer works hard. She’s not Kim K. She works for everything she’s got. Period. And she continues to push herself. Bey could be lazy at this point. But nope. She was quoted saying she put this album out the way she did because she was “bored” with the traditional way it was done. She knew she had the power and the influence to just drop it. Surprise. She knows her fans, her brand and her product. Folks are scrambling. You know Katy Perry, Nicki Minaj, Rihanna, they are all taking notes. Record company execs minds are blown right now. Who’s going to try it next? When you can have confidence and power to take risks, that’s real power. That’s higher level thinking. Regular broads won’t wrap their heads around it. That is being a bawse. That’s moving up from a 2000 focus to a 2013 elantra. LOL.

I don’t think I’m a stan. Because I don’t want to be Beyonce. But I salute any woman who is on her grind, who pushes herself even when she really doesn’t have to and inspires others to do the same. Do I feel sexy when I play her music? Yes. I like dancing around in my heels and panties and pretending I’m a vixen too and then I put on my clothes and go to work. I like that she’s saying as women we really do have a choice to be those things. As a journalist, I respect anyone who creates legitimate conversation on real things. And love her or hate her, the conversations have been created and will continue.

Good Tidings, Good News!

What’s up folks?

I know. I know. It’s been ages since I’ve posted a post. Things started to get pretty nuts for me as of late. But first things first.

Did I share with you all that I was accepted into my graduate school program??

Yes, yes! Your girl did it! She got it. And I will be a student all over again, starting in March. Holla!

I’m excited. 2014 is going to be rather interesting. Very, very interesting.

In other news, after years of service and ups and downs and 174,000 + miles, and too many recent problems, I went ahead and purchased a new car this weekend.

Frieda the Ford Focus has been put to pasture, and my new car, yet to be named is a very lovely Hyundai Elantra!


I often say, cars aren’t a big deal to me, but I have to admit, driving and stepping out of that car does make me feel very confident. Like it matches who I am and what I’m about. It isn’t flashy by any means, but it’s really nice to me.  I don’t have all sorts of techie extras, but the fact that I have XM satellite, I’m impressed.

It’s no lie that when things start to happen, one, they just happen and they can happen fast. I’m glad to have a new car that I can feel safe in. I’m very grateful to my sister for being able to use a pretty sweet family discount that even the folks at the dealership were impressed by. So it’s really all good. I couldn’t have gotten a better deal. No way.

Christmas is around the corner and I’m looking forward to driving home to see my parents in a brand new car. I’ve already decided that no matter what, I’m going to pay my father back for sending me the money to help fix my old car last week. I kind of feel bad we went through all of that trouble and then I went and bought a new car anyway. But when the engine light came on a day later and I took it back and found out there was more costly work that needed to be done, I took that as a sign.

I don’t have much to report about the Wild Card. We hang out from time to time, I’m kind of sure he likes me, but it’s kind of like he does juuuust enough to show interest. I’m not sure what to take from that.

I’ve been in situations where men did a whole lot of talking about how much they liked me, how great they thought I was, but when it was really time to step up they didn’t. So, maybe this is a good thing that Wild Card hasn’t completely shown his hand. The process has been slow going, but not bad. So… we shall see.

I honestly don’t want anything for Christmas. I will accept whatever I’m given, but I feel super fortunate and I really just want to spend time with people and be happy and healthy. I’ve been given everything I need and I’m so blessed.

There are a couple of cool things that I wouldn’t mind having if I made a wish list, but I’ll really be fine.

I tried this ballerific coat on at an H&M near Times Square over Thanksgiving holiday. At first, I tried it on as a joke, but then realized it was actually hot. Big fan. http://www.hm.com/us/product/21849?article=21849-A

This is not your average candy dish. That’s why I like it even more, and I don’t really keep candy on my desk, but I would have this dish there. http://www.uncommongoods.com/product/unzipped-glass-zipper-bag

A funky company called “Pistol Whipped Cream” has this really dope “elements” necklace. People have been on a periodic elements kick due to the popularity of the show “Breaking Bad.” I like it because I’m a nerd. http://www.thepistolwhippedcream.com/collections/jewelry/products/flowers-bursting-out-of-revolvers-studs

I would also like to see Prince wherever I can this year. I’m holding out hope it will happen.

But other than that, I’m good. I’m happy. I’m blessed beyond belief.

Happy Holidays everyone! Let’s enjoy it!

The Procrastinator’s Guide to Preparing for a Booty Call

See, I had to reblog this. My girl at Choices, Voices, and Sole who surprises me and often kills me softly with her blog, and this latest post is no exception. I need her to stop peeking through my blinds. Really! Enjoy.

Choices, Voices, and Sole

Do you all remember the opening scene in Being Mary Jane where “her” dude shows up unexpectedly, and she finds herself in a mad rush to remove all the post-its from her house, take her scarf off, look like she is always a sex pot when sitting around her home, and remove any evidence of toys from plain view? If you don’t remember or just didn’t watch it — you can view that scene here. Trust me, it’s a must see ladies.

When I initially saw that scene, I knew I was going to enjoy the movie. Not because random guys show up at my house on a regular, but because I could totally relate to having to rush to prepare for my booty call (and if I could relate to that, I figured there would be more I could relate to as well). It was like someone had…

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A Person’s Definition About Success Says Soooo Much

I’m obsessed with a song called, “Happy” by Pharell. It’s off of the “Despicable Me 2” soundtrack.

I heard it and saw the video for the very first time over at my parents on Thanksgiving. I instantly fell in love with it. Like you listen, and it does make you happy. You want to dance. And Pharell sounds really good!

It’s crazy, because I’ve been in conversations with people lately about success and some people’s answers disturbed me.

One guy asked me what I thought success was. He said, “What, you want a big house in Bowie, don’t you?”


I told him, big house or small house, I want it to be a place that feels warm and feels like love and feels like home.

I’ve known people with too much house and just delinquent and deficient in love.

I’ve known people with studio apartments that were filled with joy.

When I was a kid, my little mind told me success was being rich and famous.

When I was a teenager, success was getting good grades, getting into college, passing my driver’s test and straight up independence and having my own pocket change.

I got to college, and the hill got steeper. Success was completing my degree and then gulp, actually getting a job in the field I spent the last four years studying.

After college, it was getting the job and working my way up. Where up was, it was supposed to be a large newspaper or magazine, where I became the editor, and had a nice office and being able to walk into a room and people be impressed by me.

I’m 31. I became a reporter, I became an editor. I live independently and I’ve got a list of things to complain about, but at the same time I know I’m blessed. I recognize it every day. But the biggest thing I learned this year is that dreams change, definitions of success change and that what? It’s actually ok. You didn’t abandon who you are, instead you are listening and listening more carefully.

I think there’s a big difference in people who haven’t found themselves and switch jobs every six months. You have to be grown and responsible. But if you take certain other risks, and you were a doctor for 10 years and decide you want to fly planes or build furniture, and you’d been taking lessons for a while and loved how you felt in the air, and long for that feeling when you see your patients or on weekends people admired a table you build, then why the hell not? The seeds had been planted. This may in fact, be who you are.

I’ve seen my friends and my family and other folks go through a number of life changes. Some folks got married, got divorced, had babies, lost loved ones, buy homes, launch businesses, go back to school and change ish up completely. I’ve seen people leave behind “dream jobs” to find peace of mind. I’ve seen people up and leave the country to seek themselves and new adventures.

I’ve seen friends on Facebook who I’ve gone to high school with defend being stay-at-home mothers and say it’s the best thing they’ve ever done.

I’ve seen friends on Facebook climb the ladder, gaining big promotions and going on lavish trips.

Who is the most successful of the two?

If both are happy with their lives as they are, right now, then both of them are. No contest.

We cannot define or dictate success to anyone else but ourselves.

There are a few people me and my friends joke about and sometimes say not so nice things about in terms of their life choices and where they are today. And one day, I asked a friend if the person we dogged so much was actually more free than any of us. My friend thought I was joking, but I wasn’t.

We considered him a loser for a number of reasons, and he kind of is. But if he is genuinely happy with his life, by my definition, he may very well be successful. It’s not up to me.

The older I get, the more I hate folks who aren’t genuine, and who are stuck on appearances and material things. You’ve read the blog. I love clothes and I swear before the good Lord, if I managed to increase my earnings, I would shop at high-end stores. I just would.

But at the same time, over and over, I’ve heard from friends who “seemed” to have it all complain over and over, that those bags and shoes and houses weren’t all they were cracked up to be, or they were still unhappy because they weren’t in a relationship, or they didn’t have kids, or someone they know on Facebook appears to be doing better than them.

If you are lucky, you can learn how to think for yourself. It’s not always easy. And maybe my risk-taking, bleeding heart, creative friends, and not growing up rich, but with a lot of love, makes it a bit easier to see the world this way.

Lately, I’ve had a really big desire to live my life fully, beyond the illusion, to seek beauty and wisdom and knowledge. I don’t want to be trapped in my thinking, or in my living. We have this huge gift of life and just one and the ability to love and feel and be.

There are moments I just want to be a hippie making music and art and love and to not worry about anything else. I want to sit in a cabin and drink tea and write or design tee shirts.

Then there are moments I want to be an academic, speaking and giving lectures. I want to pour over documents and find connections and be a part of some major think tank and lead thought to societal problems.

There are times I want to cook, and let the sweet smells fill my house and fill people’s bellies. I want to set beautiful tables and burn sweet smelling oils and drink from beautiful wine glasses with the people I love, well-dressed, healthy and happy.

There are times I want to be someplace beautiful on the other side of the world and be amazed by its wonder and let my mind wander. I want to be in crystal blue water, floating on my back and letting the sun warm my face and just look up at the sky.

The idealist in me is mad there is racism, and classism, and that smart, poor people may not ever get a chance to rise from their circumstances.

The older I get, and the more I think I’ve changed, the more I realize all of these things, these moments where I want to be those various things, that’s all me. It’s all of me. And I don’t have to be just one of them. And I can’t be. I’ll never be.

I told someone success is living the way you want to live with peace of mind despite outside forces. Success is understanding your power and beauty and what it is you bring to the world and having the humility to know you are such a tiny piece of the puzzle, but still essential to it.

When you know all of those things and you understand it, that’s huge.

When the stay at home mom says she has the most important job on the planet, I can’t knock it if that’s what she knows to be true in her heart. Same thing for a cop, the president, a baker, a butcher, candle stick maker, crossing guard, or teacher or grave digger or janitor or the CEO of Walmart (well that’s controversial) but still. Honestly, I want most of the people doing any job to all feel like it is important and bring pride to it.

Success is being able to sleep at night, knowing you did everything you could that day. Me and my boy talked once about what we would want people to say about us when we died. I hate the thought of dying. It scares me. It really does. But I did say this.

I want people to say that I was real, that I was genuine and that when I loved people, I meant it and I told them so and I showed them. I want people to say that I was funny and silly and gave what I could, whenever I could. I want people to say I was creative and loved creativity and being inspired by art and music and that to me nothing is greater than creative expression except God, who is the ultimate creator. He made the creative process so powerful on purpose, I believe to give us a glimpse on a micro-ist of micro levels to see what it’s like to be like Him. Watch any great singer or dancer or artist work. You can’t tell me it isn’t spiritual the place they go, the way they give themselves up. I want people to say I was appreciative and grateful, and gracious, and classy, and kind of mischevious, but I still had high expectations. I want people to say I believed in thinking and growing and learning and education and access and exposure.

Weird way to end. But that’s how I felt. Thanks for sticking till the end.

Backup Pl(M)an

Angie Stone has a great song I like, called “Backup Plan.”

She basically sings that every woman should have a backup plan/man in case your current boo isn’t acting right.

I’m in an odd situation. For all intents and purposes, I am single. So I don’t owe anyone anything. I’m not formally exclusive with anybody at the moment.

The Wild Card situation is just that.

So there’s another I’ve been just talking to on the phone. I’m really not sure what to call him. But he seems like a nice, laid-back, kind-hearted person. He has a good job, and a positive attitude. From his photos online, he seems attractive enough.

We have not gone on a date yet. He’s supposed to be cooking something up soon, but the first time he brought up actually hanging out was yesterday.

I’m willing to go on the date. I think it will be good for me.

Yes, I asked Wild Card to go see Nas all the way in March. Does this mean other dude doesn’t have a shot? Not necessarily, but since we haven’t spent any time together in person, I haven’t quite gotten a feel for his personality or how we’ll click. I do think that regardless, Wild Card and I could be friends.

A strange thing keeps happening to me with the online dating. I’ve been on about four dates where they guys have said, I was the first person they actually decided to meet in person. I’m not sure what that says about me, but I guess it’s kind of flattering. But it kind of makes me feel bad, because I’ve been on several dates! I almost feel like a professional dater.

So my question is, is it cool right now for me to have a bird in the hand/backup plan?

Gulp. Two for Nas, Please

The original post I was working on today vanished in thin air, so maybe it was God’s way of telling me it wasn’t really that good or important or useful to whomever decides to read my blog today.

So this brings me to what I’m thinking about right now. We are only a few weeks away from Christmas, and then, well 2014.

Yes, 2014! Ain’t that crazy? I mean here we are, staring down the barrel of 2014. We’ve got more hopes and dreams to take with us into the new year and probably even more stuff we want to leave behind in 2013 and let stay there.

The crazy part is the upcoming holidays didn’t make me think about 2014 and the future, but a decision to buy tickets to see rapper Nas collaborate with the National Symphony Orchestra Pops at the Kennedy Center in March, celebrating the 20th anniversary of Hip Hop classic, “Illmatic.”

It’s no secret, faithful 29tolifers know how much I love the Kennedy Center and try to make a trek there at least once, if not twice a year. And usually it’s almost always to check out the Alvin Ailey annual engagement around my birthday in February.

Welp, Nas mashing it up with an orchestra at one of my favorite venues on the planet was too good and too historic and too epic to pass up. While my attendance was a no-brainer, one thing kind of bugged me.

I wanted to bring a date.

I have no problems with attending shows alone, but I’m looking at 2014 and while I’m trying to feel my way in the dark with Wild Card, and have a first date scheduled with a nice guy I’ve been talking to here and there but never met in person… I was trying to see who I could see myself with, there at the show.

Truth be told, I wanted a man to be with me at the show. I love hip hop and I talk about hip hop mostly with men, not women. Me and my boys have spirited discussions and it’s so much fun. Plus, I wanted to be decked out to the nines with an equally decked out, good-smelling male companion to this groundbreaking, genre-shattering experience. I had to listen to the album on spotify to start preparing. My mind is spinning with how an orchestra is going to interpret this music. But Nas has always had an ear for music and musicality, and he gives nods to different kinds of music and instrumentation in his songs if you listen carefully.  So this collaboration may not be as awkward as it appears on the surface. The result is going to be insanely dope and I sincerely hope it ends up on Great Performances on PBS. I really have to give the Kennedy Center props for its programming. They push the boundaries. After all, I got introduced to bounce queen Big Freedia in all her twerking glory, prior to Miley, right there. Me and my cousin still talk about that night. But I’ve enjoyed gospel, spoken word, all sorts of events at the Kennedy Center and the folks there are doing an amazing job. That place is among my dream places to work.

But back to me.

Will anyone, especially Wild Card be around to even accompany me to this event all the way in March??

We all know time flies and March will be here before you know it, but it still feels like a long way off. I peered at the seating chart, trying to decide if I wanted to buy one or two tickets and then I sent a text to wild card. I asked him if he liked Nas, he said yes. (I knew he liked Nas).

Then I told him about the show and my dilemma. Then I asked him if he would be interested in going. He said he was. I half joked that I wasn’t sure if he’d be tired of me by March. He laughed and said he doubted it.

The response did give me a sense of relief that he could see us still hanging out in March, so there was no reason for me not to see it either.

But let us remember, I got burned just last month with the Tweet tickets. So here I am again. Buying tickets to a show, hoping the person I go with will appreciate it and me and it will lead to other great moments. Steadily building into… Something.

I made a joke with friends comparing my latest suitors to the tributes from “The Hunger Games.” Wondering if they would make it until March.

Let’s face it. My latest dating endeavors haven’t lasted beyond a couple of months. Either boredom on my part has set in, or I noticed that it wasn’t going to work, or it wasn’t going anywhere, or the guy wasn’t being consistent enough. No one could really stick. There was no one who I really wanted to stick. It was as if I wasn’t surprised that they exited on their own or were cut loose by me. Le sigh. I’ve started to wonder is it me? Is it the things I’ve been through? Is it me getting older?

And the answer is yes. Yes to all of that. So it’s just a matter of meeting someone who can deal with all of that who I actually like and can deal with all of their baggage and quirks and biases.

So, I took a gulp. Clicked on a second seat and bought two for Nas, please.

This is the closest thing I can find to what may happen. The Roots teamed up with the Dakah Hip-Hop Orchestra (an orchestra devoted to blending hip-hop, blues, world sounds and collaborating with various artists) “The love of my life”

Trying This Again

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving. I did. It was great to spend time with family and friends and eat, and take in the sights and sounds of NYC.

I checked out “After Midnight” which was an excellent and highly energetic homage to jazz with some of the most talented people you ever did see. Fantasia was stellar and her voice was pristine. A lot of people who say why go see Fantasia sing on Broadway, are the people who need to go see her on Broadway. She has crazy control over her voice and can be just as powerful singing “Stormy Weather” as she would yelling and going nuts on “Free Yourself.”

Fantasia kills jazz standards and gives them the respect the artistry deserves. She knows what time it is and for that, I was digging her more.

The musicians from the Jazz ensemble of Lincoln Center were just amazing. Fantastic!

So this weekend totally ushered in a feeling of family and holiday and I’m really looking forward to Christmas. I generally like Christmas anyway, especially giving gifts and seeing people’s reaction to them. I love the food, I love wearing sweaters and leggings and just the mood people are in and gathering with friends.

I didn’t get to see everyone this trip, which felt like a blur, but it was great to even watch a movie at my aunt and uncle’s house, and sip sweet tea and catch up.

Hanging with my bestie to see Hunger Games was also a highlight. She’s a die-hard fan of the books and to see her get surprised at the end was soooo funny. I love hanging with her and seeing her parents and talking to them.

It was great to have everyone in my family love my sweet potato pie, including my mother– who had her second slice within minutes of her first. It seemed to be a running joke that everyone was surprised at my skills.

Another highlight of my holiday was taking my mentee and her twin sister out for lunch. It’s interesting to pick the brain of 15-year-old girls, and it was a cool moment to see one try creme brulee for the first time.

Throughout my holiday, Wild Card hit me up quite a few times.

Even as I was heading back, he was checking in, wanting to know when I’d be back.

Even though I was interested in seeing him again. I just had to know if he was really genuinely interested or if he wanted me to be the call and come over girl.

So I asked him straight up. And he said that he really was interested. That the only reason he was asking me to his home at night was because we both had crazy schedules. He asked. “Did you really think I was just trying to get into your pants?”

“Well, that’s every man’s long- and short-term goal. I just wanted to be clear. I like sex, but I’m at a point where I want more. And I didn’t want to read the situation wrong. If we keep hanging out, I will want something to go down, but I really want to get to know you.”

So he said that he felt the same way.

And so at the same time we sent the following text messages:

Him: “So what’s the verdict on this evening?”

Me: “Now that we’ve cleared that up. I’d like to see you this evening.”

So here we go.

I’m trying this again.

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