Ho’ Improvement

When you’re po’, you need cheap ways to amuse yourself, so I decided to dye my hair dark and also paint my jewelry armoire. The armoire was silver with gold accents, but as I recently practically burned the thing down with candles, I had some serious scorch marks to disguise. So I bought some black craft paint and painted the top, front and sides, but I left a good bit of silver within view. Then I stenciled stars and crescent moons with a metallic silver pen. It turned out really well, but my stencils are kinda screwy because the pen kept drying up and I ended up doing a lot of them by freehand so that I could better tell when the ink was flowing. I left most of the stars as just outlines, but the ones I screwed up pretty badly, I filled in. It’s kinda artsy, so I am most happy with my work.

IKEA Boy, Bryan, Paul and I went punkin-pickin’ today. We drove out to Leesburg to find a farm that supposedly exists, but the hour-long trip turned into three hours. That’s okay … we totally bonded during our car ride. I love those guys. At any rate, we did find what I call Pumpkin Ghetto, because they had loads of punkins, a petting zoo and unlimited cider, apples and cheesy-cute activities that were perfect on a fall day. Fun, fun.

We drove past signs for Manassas and for Leisure World, where one of the shootings occurred. It was sobering to realize how CLOSE to home that the beltway sniper is hitting, but luckily, he seems to take weekends off, so we weren’t too paranoid. But tomorrow starts another day of waiting and wondering and hoping we will live another day.

Mohammed has called my cell phone no fewer than seven times and has also text-messaged me. I ignored it every time. I regret giving him my number, because if calling seven times in 24 hours is his style, I would absoutely hate dating him. He seems desperate. I should just call back and tell him my girlfriend doesn’t appreciate his insistence! lol.

I remember getting really mad at CTL, who totally put me down by saying that the reason I didn’t want to date him (after months of his asking) was because he was of a different nationality. I thought I proved that untrue (I mean, I fucked him, didn’t I? Albeit regrettably.) In his case, the reason I could never be interested in him was because I was in love with our mutual friend, but I was hurt that he thought I was racist. But during the past few days, I realized that I really DO want to end up with a Caucasian. I don’t think this makes me a bad person, nor a racist.

I don’t have too many standards, but if I feel most attracted to Caucasians, it is my right to limit my dating pool to those who get a sunburn, right? Granted, in my area, finding a white boy is damn near impossible, but I really don’t want to compromise what is one of my few personal standards. I mean, I just want somebody with some amount of higher education, someone who brings in a steady income and someone with whom I would be overjoyed to spend a significant portion of my life. That’s not to say that I won’t fall madly in love with someone outside of those boundaries, but right now, I don’t think I would be a good match for someone who doesn’t meet my basic criteria. I don’t even care, at this point, if it’s a man or a woman, just as long as they look something like me.

I keep hitting the snooze button on the biological clock, so I know that the people I meet now might just be in my life for keeps or at least for a few months/years. I still believe in love at first sight, and if I don’t feel it right away, I can’t guarantee that I will ever feel it. Not to say that I can’t grow to love someone, but there has to be a certain level of physical attraction initially, and just because Mohammed used a good pickup line (“May I have a light … and your phone number?”), I need to not date just to date. I’ve dated/slept with more people just to do it, rather than because I wanted to invest the time in them. Unfortunately, the handful that I viewed as special obviously didn’t reciprocate the passion, and that’s okay. If both people aren’t feeling it, then it isn’t meant to be. And with Mohammed, I hate to say it, but I ain’t feeling it. Am I missing out on someone special? Perhaps. But would I be wasting his time while I tried to act interested? Absolutely.

Attention men, ages 25-37, Caucasian or something close to it, who have attended a college class or more, who are making a fairly decent living and who can be cerebral as well as outright impulsive and wild, E-MAIL ME!!! PLEASE!!! (I’m 28, employed, enjoy my work, dark auburn hair/green eyes, etc. Not desperate, just tired of meeting the wrong men.) Give a despondent gal some hope. I promise you won’t be disappointed!

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