Full Disclosure

He called.
We text(ed).

I was liking him a little more. He has the qualities I like in my man - driven, ambitious and focused. He's not the best grammatically (where homonyms are concerned). He flirted well - a little too much innuendo for my taste but you know what, Nina, give him a break...I said. He seemed tot be a stand-up guy and I was planning on taking my time anyway.

Mike: Why are you single?
Me: Hmmm...I guess you could say I was focusing on my business. You?
Mike:Well me. I've been threw a lot of stuff in my life so I learn never to rush for a relationship and focus on my goals
Me: Amen!

He added me on Facebook.

And that's where he made the mistake.

He went through all of my pictures. I've been on FB since '03. I haven't cleaned out my pics in a while - a while being since my trip to Miami in '05. He proceeded to comment on my pics verbally while on the phone with me.

"Oh, you don't mind being in a swimsuit? It looks good."

"Who's this girl with all the tattoos you're in a lot of pics with?"

- Ummmm....he was referring to pics from 2 summers ago with a tattooed lesbian model friend.

"Why?"
"It looks like you like girls."
"From that one pic?"
"You guys seem very comfy."
"Well, I'm not a lesbian. She's a model. I'm a makeup artist. Thanks." (Fuck off)
"Don't get offended. I like girls who like girls." (*rolls eyes*)

(Why is this coming up so much lately?) Annnnnndddd...he then proceeded to ask me more questions about people I was pictured with. I deflected and finally shut it down with a swift, "Are we really going through each picture you find interesting?"

*red flag* *red flag* *red flag*

It didn't sit well with me. Also, besides those questions, he just talked. About himself, his business - all about his business, his room mate, his upcoming trip to Miami (I think).

I slept on it. A lightbulb went off. History has shown me that if a man is so focused on who you're with it usually means he has some skeletons to hide. I didn't once ask him or even think twice about the girls on his FB. (He has a clothing line and various women modeling. He's pictured with only one.)

I looked - none of the girls were tagged. I looked at a comment he made on someone's photo "she looks good...my wife would be jealous"

Errrr?

I clicked on it. It took me to a photo of a friend's car. Ohhh....maybe he has a car. I clicked on another picture of said friend's. A different name was tagged in that picture and that person looked just like Mike.

It sure was him but the profile pic was of the girl he was pictured with on his other profile. Same location. Same birthday. Status: Married.

Errrr? Come again? Married. I was furious. How dare you question me! You had your chance to say that your situation is whatever it is.

I text:
Hey. How you doin?
M: I'm good. Omw to work
Me: Cool. Let me ask, how long have you been married?
*long pause*
M: On and off 3 years. But its a personal matter which I will explain to u not wit textin though
Me: Ok
M: You must've looked through my friends list
Me: No. I saw your *other* FB page. It was interesting
M: Well like I said. its complicated to explain over textin

I needed a wise word. I sought Trish.

She told me she'd been in my shoes before and basically...it wouldn't go anywhere. After careful consideration for like - 20 seconds - I realized, she was right.
At the end of the day...his status is MARRIED. Its stupid to try and get with someone who's in the process of a divorce/separation, whatever he's going to tell me it is. I went out with a divorced guy - he was divorced less than a year. That ended up in tears (on his pasrt.) It is also uber shady that dude has 2 pages. I've been trying to ask myself if I expected him to tell me in our 1st conversation. The answer is no. But, what he said was misleading. He could've said something along the lines of I'm separated. Its complicated. I'll explain later. Don't make it out like this big secret.

I've had my share of dudes who are creative with the truth. I've also had my fill with entrepreneurs. I think I'm good with just a regular working stiff.
Hopefully, a guy who knows the difference between through and threw and I don't where clothes.

I told Trish...its crazy. Women are expected to go through whatever. Deal with whatever and still have faith in men. I still have faith. I'd much rather not play games.
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Part 3: Messages to the Universe

She introduced us under the neon lights as videos of Soul Train played on the jumbo screen behind us.

"Nina, Mike...Mike, Nina." We shook hands as he stepped in closer under the booming old school sounds the DJ was spinning.

"Its really nice to meet you. I was a bit apprehensive to approach you because you seem so aggressive...like if a brotha says the wrong thing you're gonna punch him in the face."

I gasped. I was smiling the entire evening, doing my two-step with whomever was close to me.

"I'm offended. I thought I was giving off good vibes," I pouted.

"You're a gorgeous girl. I'm a nice guy. Sometimes, I guess I don't know what to say." His friend tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to another friend who'd just walked in. "Stay right here. Best believe, I'm coming back for you."

I stayed put swinging my hips and my head back in forth, amusing myself with Don Cornelius' super afro. My feet aching and the clock ticking past 1am with me knowing that I had to get up for dance at church in the morning had me wondering whether I should leave it alone or stay and see where it goes. VM, the girl who introduced us leaned over and said, "Mike's a nice guy. Give him a chance." Does she have ESP?

He came back as Prince's "Kiss" came on. We dirty danced as he took my hand in his. "This is the perfect song right now," I said as our hips were grinding on each other. Stevie Wonder's "Do I Do" played next as I turned my back to him, dancing the two-step. We switched positions as I pressed in closer to him. I really can't keep my hands to myself with men. It doesn't matter - gay or straight; if you're hot, I'm touching you. Thick-bodied, he is really my type - not to tall (maybe 5'8), he has nice arms, a defined back, pecks and his abs aren't the Usher 6-pack but not a beer belly. His friend leaned over and said, "Go easy on him."

I laughed. He just stared at me. "I like that. You make little faces. They're all beautiful." All I could say was thank you.

We talked or rather - he talked more about his business and showed me a picture of his tattoo which takes up the majority of his back and goes down one arm. I told him about my spine tatt. We talked about our signs.

"When's your birthday?"
"February 4th"
"Oh you're an Aquarius."
"Yep."
"Oh, I gotta watch you now. Ya'll are very sneaky and when you want it, you'll take it. You'll wake a brotha up in the middle of the night if you have to."

I couldn't help but laugh because...its true and I've done it before. But, that was a different life - one that wasn't so...celibate.

I told him I was leaving at 1:30. He kept checking his watch for me, keeping me abreast of the time. I have to admit. It felt nice: his arms draped across my waist, my hand in his, leaning in close but my feet were really hurting and I needed them for dance in 7 hours.

It was time for me to go. He kissed me on the cheek and gave me a hug.

"You better call me."
"I will. Most definitely."

He better. :)
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Part Two: Wrongdoings

Wynsters always tells me that if anyone wanted to find out my identity, its really not that difficult. I've toed the line of anon and public. I won't put my face on the sidebar because it really is hard to bare my soul and really SAY all the things I want to say if you're staring me in the "proverbial" face.

Even after I've met a lot of my blog friends in real life and some others I know have stumbled on to this blog, I have struggled with saying what I'm going through...long absences, anyone?

I had a thought the other day - what if BFF stumbled upon the blog? I don't talk about anyone more than I talk about her. Its not fair. Its not right to put her business out there.

And then I think about WHY I've done it...

1. Frustration
Her situation is ridiculous. I tell her. She agrees it is and stays. I've been venting here.

2. Shoulder Boulders
I was talking to a friend on gchat a while ago. He asked me how I was doing. I gave him maybe 5 lines about myself and said, "But enough about me, how are you?" He said..."Enough about you? We've spent 30 seconds on you. You're still the same. You need to work on being more selfish. We talked about this."

I take on everyone's burdens upon my shoulders as if its my job. Oddly enough, BFF kind of voiced it herself. Throughout her pregnancy, I've been doting. More doting than Punjabi...buuuut whatever. She said, "Ni, chill...you ain't bust that nut. You don't have to do everything for me." (She's a poet, lol)

True but I feel like I have to be there.

Anyways....I've been wrong in putting BFF's business on front street. You guys shouldn't know all the nuances of her relationship. I am going to work on focusing more on what this blog should be about...me.
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Rugby + Talking to the Universe + Sexuality + Wrongdoings (Part One)

This was my first week back at Rugby and I'd really like the smug satisfaction of saying..."They call me The Bulldozer. I'm the baddest on the field." Really, Wednesday after practice, I could hardly walk. My quads (outer thigh muscles) hurt so bad that going to sit, walking up stairs and even just trying to walk Rocky was excruciating. Still, I came back for more. Thursday, someone actually tackled me. When playing in college, it was really hard to take me down. I was fast and strong. Also, somehow, I got punched in the face. But, I'm sure it was an accident and while it was a shock...it didn't hurt (that much).

My rugby girls are so much fun. And...apparently, they're all lesbians. The first person who approached me (as a new girl not really in any other way) was a tall slim black lady. I was really concerned about being the only chocolate chip in the cookie...but there are 5 of us on a 40 member team...and 2 of the 5 are confirmed gay.

Anywhosies, she asked me what I did and I told her I work with plus size women and she proceeded to tell me that her partner is pleasantly plump and oh, she just loves the thickness while eyeing me up and down. I laughed it off. At the end of practice, a short brown girl with a really cute asymmetrical afro chatted me up. She was on her way to BK and gave me a ride. On our way, she told me the taller one called her a baby dyke and proceeded to tell me how hard it is for younger lesbians. I was floored. I knew she was prodding me. Tryna see where I was on the line but I did my nervous laugh and left it alone. Although, I did make some comments where she kinda understood I don't roll "that way."

Other teammates talk about their lesbianism openly and with mirth while I just don't go "there." To me, it feels rude to be like..."I'm straight" when no one asks me directly.

Talking to BFF, she's like "No, you need to put it down like...I'm strictly dickly. F--k outta here with that gay s---t. The only vagina I like is my own." I really don't feel the need to defend what hasn't been attacked. It might be because I have a lot of gay male friends and I see how straight men act towards them - that somehow their gayness will by way of osmosis infect them or that by default, the gay dudes like them. Its simply untrue. Everyone has a type. You might not be it.

The most important part of this experience is the game. I'm playing with some of the best girls in the country. Most of them are Ivy-league educated. They are biologists, teachers, lawyers and they can kick my ass. I'm on the #1 non-collegiate rugby team in the nation. Physically, I'm half as strong as I was 7 years ago when I played. A chick half my size tackled me so hard on Thursday, it was slightly embarrassing. She's all muscle though - its almost scary. I've learned so much. I'm eager to learn more.

If all else fails, my thighs are going to look freaking awesome by the time May comes around.
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Conversation with Myself

*stretch*
Inner Child: I want french toast
Me: Ok, let's order. By the time you get up and walk the dog, it'll be here.
Inner Child: Yayyyyyy!
Me: But wait...the breakfast place always messes up your order and their french toast kinda sucks
Inner Child: I want french toast! I want french toast! I want french toast!
Me: Even if it sucks?
Inner Child: Yes! I want french toast!
Me: I heard you the first time...psycho....

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gin + grease

Before I went to bed, I told myself “No church tomorrow!” and I meant it. I woke up at 10:30 am today craving white wine mimosas and pancakes. I called Editor and requested brunch. She told me she had an interview at 12 and that she could meet me at 2. I told her to tell herself she was meeting me at 1:30. We both laughed.

After we hung up, BFF called me. Punjabi’s live-in gf was blowing up her phone from Punjabi’s phone and from her own phone, leaving angry voicemails and texts – really upsetting her. She was convinced the girl was going to come over to her house with a gun and blow her away- Joey Buttafuco style. I calmed her down as Editor called me to tell me she was getting on the train. (Logistics: It was 1:30 at the time of the call. It takes 25 minutes to get from where she is to where we were going. It takes me 40 minutes to get there. I was still in undies when she called.) I told her I was running (quote unquote) a few minutes late. She said it was fine.

Cute outfit secured complete with sky high lace-up wedge heels that make me feel bad ass and I’m sitting at the bar looking stupid waiting. By the grace of The Almighty, I was there at 2:15. I waited 15 minutes and started calling and leaving messages.
It was 2:45 when she called.

“We are at the train”
(in my head) Who is we?

I foolishly thought she meant she was at the train station at the place where we were meeting. I was wrong. She was still in HARLEM. Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat the eff?
At 3:30, she’s strolling with the magazine’s videographer. I thought I would be able to brush it off and seriously, those pancakes and mimosas were calling my name. As soon as I saw her, my cheeks flushed. I was LIVID.

Where were you? Why are you so late? I’ve been waiting for an hour and 15 minutes for you!

I didn’t know what time you were going to be here. I didn’t think it was such a big deal.

I told you I was going to be a few minutes late. Instead of 2pm, I was here at 2:15. What the fuck?

I’m sorry.

Videographer : Blame me. Its my fault.

(I don’t even look at him) Y’know, Editor, every time we’re supposed to meet up, you’re at least an hour late. Is that fair to me and my time?

She has the look of a deer caught in headlights.

I’m leaving. I really don’t want to scream at you in the street.

You’re what?! I came down here just for you.

I’m leaving. I can’t even look at you.

I really wanted to add a well-placed “Fuck off” – its my curse-phrase of choice…instead me and my sky-high wedges walked off in a huff. I thanked God for keeping my balance in those things because I’m very clumsy and I fall. That would’ve been horrible timing – falling in the midst of your huff walk.

I was so pissed I was shaking. I’m so done with situations like that. Seriously, I should’ve stayed true to my 15 minute rule…but honestly, I paid the money to get on the train. I didn’t want it to be in vain. By giving Editor the courtesy of letting her know I was running late, I opened the door for her inconsideration. I’m so done. I could’ve hit her.

I took the train to be with BFF. By the time I got there, Punjabi’s live-in called numerous times. BFF answered.

BASICALLY…Punjabi told her he wanted to have fun – that was his reason for WANTING to break up. They’re not broken up. Live-in was upset that Punjabi had never mentioned her and she had no inclination that he was cheating steadily for 2 years. She also wanted to know where/how they meet up because he’s home in the bed with her every night. She said “Oh, he only goes to your house and meets you in his car. Nowhere public?” BFF felt like a whore. She didn’t tell Live-in about the baby on the way.

Lawd.

BFF fixed me and Toni Childs (her other bff) some gin and orange juice. We laughed. We almost cried about it. We invoked the name of Jesus to try and smack some sense into the girl.

No dice.

I asked… “What happens in 15 years if you choose to stay with him and you’re the one calling some 25 year old girl about your man?”

Scary stuff.

We ordered a pizza and watched Eat.Pray.Love and felt all warm and fuzzy inside. On my way home, I rubbed my eyes. I wore minimal makeup..just some mascara and lipstick. I smudged my mascara so bad that it looked like someone punched me in the eye. Also, a stray cat stalked me at the bus stop. I was standing there and it was standing there looking up at me. I moved, it followed. I moved again. It followed.

Creepy.

by the light of the moon

written on Saturday night.
The moon is so amazing tonight. It makes me think of the phrase “by the light of the moon” and it all makes sense. Its beauty is astounding. I cuddled with Rocky as we sat on the concrete bench outside my house just gazing at it holding each other. I thought of you. Your arms around me as we sit watching. I thought of the perfect scenario of us, a blanket covering our shoulders with warm mugs of hot chocolate in our hands – happy and in love. I thought about being on my college campus in the middle of the grass knowing the moon would appear as if it hovered over my face. I thought of being in Paris or Spain or Berlin at some fancy café while watching with some handsome stranger. Most of all, I wanted to be with you. Whomever you may be.

No lie! Pics of the moon last night.

******************in other news*************

i got my learner's permit today!! yay!
AND as i wats taking the test, i thought i would be surrounded by geeky 16 year olds...NOPE. in fact, there was a very sexy man waiting to take the test after me. i gave him a good luck smile.

mmm hmmm... cuz i'm nice like that.

i plan on having my license no later than the end of may. i don't care who i have to threaten to take me driving.

yup.

oh, can i add that the test cost $77.50. GEEZ LOUISE!

mice

like every other warm-blooded woman, i hate mice.
this kind of goes deeper than the run of the mill- they carry diseases and poop and pee microscopically everywhere type of disgust.

my grandmother's house smelled so bad growing up that as soon as you walked into her apartment building, you could smell her place. she had huge roaches and mice that were so bold, they didn't run away from you even if you approached them with a broom or some deadly device.

i hated going over to her house and would itch while was there and hours after we left. gross.

it was the smell of dirty carpet that a dog had peed or pooped and it had never been cleaned, dirty clothes, body odor and just funk that fell down on you like a thick fog.

at home, we had mice but it was nothing our cat, cindy couldn't deal with adequately. i had a self-esteem problem which turned into a binge-eating problem and would hide evidence of said problem under my mattress and behind my bed which attracted the mice to my room.

my skin still crawls at the sound of a mouse chewing through paper or burrowing through walls and such. instead of my mother explaining to me that keeping food or remnants of food in my room attracts mice, she called me nasty. she said i would end up like my grandmother. she said i was the reason we had mice... talk about scared frickin straight!

when i moved away for college and subsequently after i came home and moved in the upstairs apartment, it was my mission to make sure you could eat off my floors ESPECIALLY when i had a boyfriend. dishes were never left in the sink. food was always neatly stored away and my house was pristine. i was always fueled by the words my mom always said to me: "no man wants a nasty woman." that was always her warning.

btw, i hate the word "nasty."

ffwd to this week.
i haven't done laundry in about 2 months.
dishes were piled in the sink.
rocky peed on something and for the life of me i couldn't figure out WHAT it was. all i knew was that it was driving me crazy. (it was actually what he was supposed to pee on - his wee wee pad that i had thrown in the garbage but hadn't taken the garbage out...old urine is a disgusting smell.)

and then i heard it...the crinkle of little teeth biting through my garbage in the middle of the night.

i'm a fair sleeper. not deep enough to where i could sleep through a fire but not light enough that random noises wake me but i swear (!!) that sound woke me up out of my sleep.
my blood went cold.

i spent a marathon tonight cleaning from top to bottom and i'm not done. i saw the offender. it scurried out of the radiator that connects my apartment to the one next door. of course, rocky didn't do anything. BOOOO!

i spoke to essequibo a while ago. he said i have to plug all the holes with brillo and set traps and voila! if i plug all the holes...the mice have no where to go but on the traps (in theory) but that means i have to get rid of the traps...SCARY.

jesusbeanexterminator.

funny thing is...i know there are probably one or 2 mice scurrying around my apartment...my mom complains to me all the time that she catches at least 3 or 4 a week.
they're not coming from me!

this fish

oh...i thought i was away from the blog for longer. it certainly feels like it.

i feel so unmotivated.
laundry is piled high. dishes have been in the sink since forever. i can't remember the last time i went grocery shopping. cleaning the house is a project. looking for jobs feels like i'm looking for gold. i don't think i'm depressed. i'm just blah.

the only real things that keep me going are rugby and rocky.
if i am not up to get his morning walk in, he poops on my carpet. that's great motivation, yes?! yes.

if i take an extended nap in the middle of the day and miss play time or his afternoon walk, he whimpers at the foot of my bed and doesn't really stop until i either get up or fall deep enough to sleep i don't hear him anymore. luckily, he pees on a wee wee pad in the far corner of the living room all on his own! YES!!!! it is an ideal spot because no one can see yellow-stained pads on my floor.

rugby starts next thursday. i am SO not ready.
it was awesome to play in college. the only other sport i liked was soccer. this game has the weird rules of a soccer game but i can release the beast - the stress and aggression i feel almost all the time. i've been running with rocky every day. right now, i can't run more than half a mile but baby steps.

why is it so hard to get motivated???????

rugby rules in case you have no clue what it is.


bff is really upset over punjabi. he's not being the nurturing father to be at all. it is really sad. she's asked him every day for a back rub. he either says he will do it and doesn't or changes the subject. last week, his live-in girlfriend moved out. he still didn't tell her why. so, she moved back in the next day. she said she wants another fertility procedure with him and if he doesn't concede, she's not leaving. a week later, she said she would move out to be with her sister. maybe said sister talked some sense into her. bff is slowly realizing that she's been an idiot to be with this dude. she said to me, "i'm going through all of this ridicule from my family who knows the situation. my friends - ya'll love me so you're not being too harsh but i know ya'll are looking ar me sideways. i'm going through all these emotional changes. constant headaches, nausea, a roller coaster of emotions and for nothing..to give this man a baby." heavy stuff. anyways...the live-in gf doesn't want a house. she wants a family with him. live-in and bff are crazy. why would you want a family with someone who is morally corrupt?

i went to see an erotic poetry show on sunday. the lawd's day!
wow.
it was amazing. there were men and women, gay and straight. funny, sensual, freaky and open.
it was a great show. i thought i would leave and have to hump something immediately but it kind of reinforced my celibacy. all of the things people were talking about were things i want to do...BUT not with some loser i can't even look back on the experience and smile about. Jesus, send me my husband!

i am very attracted to this transman (transexual male. used to be a woman but is now a man) and i was confused. whyyyyyy? he's freaking sexy. i posted his pic before. he has really smooth chocolate skin with a goatee. his arms, chest, back, abs are all on point. he hits the gym everyday. he's really smart, funny and flirty. but then, i started thinking...about him naked. he still has a vagina. which kind of ruins the sexual aspect. but, he has everything else. part of the allure of having sex to me is making that person feel good. to get personal...(haha) i do kegel exercises and stuff like that to make sure when a man penetrates, it feels damn good. i want him to feel me and i want to feel him. no matter HOW realistic a dildo is...that just won't do. i will continue to flirt and stuff. he knows the deal. after our last talk, he looked deep in my eyes and said.."too bad you're straight." yes. yes....too bad indeed.

this was also at a dinner where i kissed a gay guy. my friend db is so freakin sexy...another smooth-skinned chocolate brother. i've loved him since 2004! we were all at dinner...i was the only straight girl at a table of 10 gays..our friend died last week (gay man) and we had just left his funeral...drinks were flowing. we were reminiscing over him...and then talk came to what do you want to do before you die? db without hesitation kissed me on the lips. i was stunned but i liked it.do you know this boy was tryna make out with me at the dinner table with our friends...TOO MUCH! he wants to make a date to make out...he said he's never made out with a girl before.

it is so easy to cross the line and become out of control.

what else is going on????????
some other stuff...will share later.

p.s. title of this post comes from the blog: "this fish needs a bicycle"...love that blog and the title. it's from a quote that says "a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle." to which the blog author says...this fish needs a bike. clever.

the blame game

I don't need to have male friends because I have a crush on damn near all of them! How dare they all be so cute, funny, smart, witty and intuitive! Also, how dare they be like my brothers and it feels so damn incestuous to even think of them as being so amazing! *sigh* (These statements will make sense in a minute)

BFF is 4 months preggo and her little belly is all sticking out now...I felt it and it was hard and round like ummm...a pregnant person's. So surreal. She calls me today like...Punjabi broke up with his girlfriend. She packed all of her stuff and left. He still didn't tell her WHY he doesn't want to be with her and that tomorrow, he will tell his mother about BFF. Punjabi feels bad and wants to buy the chick a house. BFF feels bad and wants to have a sit-down conversation with her. I told her straight up. Why feel bad NOW? Why not feel bad in January 2009 when you found out about the girl? Why not feel bad and STOP effing him in June 2009 when ya'll got back together? How come he didn't feel bad when he pursued you aggressively, dated you and had sex with you countless times without protection? Why not feel bad and break up after the first abortion? Why do you want to talk to her now? What are you going to say? I'm sorry. Please! Sorry doesn't undo 2 years of you willingly effing her man. Punjabi wants to buy her a house...she does want the house. She's always wanted a house but WITH him. Buying her a damn house does not fix that he carried on a double life. You want to apologize for busting up an 11-year relationship to make yourself feel better. Saying sorry does nothing for her.

I HAD TO SAY IT! C'mon son!

Then, I go on BBM and my boyy BP is like.."Yea, I know Aquarians...ya'll will flip on you and then hug you in the same sentence." It was eerie. lol

I said...you know...its the truth. It needs to be said but it doesn't mean I don't love you.
Am I wrong though?

Oy!

I'm going to try and blog more...for sure!

For the past 15 minutes, I've been fantasizing about sitting on a beach in JC's arms on my birthday next year. I've played the scenario out on Shelly Bay in Bermuda...on a rocky beach in Bermy and in South Beach Miami. In each scenario, we are alone. The nearest person is far away in the middle of the day. We aren't speaking. We are just looking at the waves crashing against the shore. It is beautiful.

My crush on JC started out so innocently as a little scratch and now it is a full-on itch. The more I tell myself not to like him, the more my mind works to make beach scenarios where we're snuggling.
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