you always remember your first

Today is the first anniversary of when I got my first tattoo. 

Always wanting one and trying not to alienate anyone in my life by getting one, I finally decided that it's my life, so why not, if not, fuck it to the world and I went ahead and got one. I sat and waited for about 2 hours for a 30 minute session of 5 ladybugs that hurt like shit. As soon as it was done, I knew it. I knew that I may get another one. And after the second one, I was definitely hooked. It was so liberating. 

I was trying to describe the feeling to someone who asked me why I feel the need to get so many since I have an office job and I'm supposed to be this ambitious demure lady. I couldn't quite put it into words. It's like this:

I feel like a superhero looking all professional at work and then having a completely different persona outside the office. It helps me cope with working in an office and being cooped up in a cubicle all day where I wear boring clothes and cover up my arms and legs, and pull my hair back. It's like it's my alter ego and then when I am in my personal life I let my freak flag fly. I feel like its my little secret.

I often used to do this, maybe wear a blonde wig or an afro wig over the weekend, to be this other persona who lets loose and doesn't live by the rules. This is my way of rebelling in a subtle artistic way. To those that judge, they really don't understand and no matter how many words I say I may never make them understand. But this is me now…so deal with it. 

Havana - Bavana

Friday night. Went to the new Havana Club in Atlanta with one of my meetup groups. 

This is a little different than my other single quests because I was not alone per se. There were supposed to be about 70 of us, but I think in the end, there were roughly about 30 women of all ages, not necessarily single, some married with kids, some hopelessly single like myself but we all came to dance our blues away with other women. You hardly get women want to go out with each other, we are always hunting for that man or waiting for that man to take us there when we should be just as happy as the men when they kick it with each other. 

I almost did not go. For one, Friday night outings are hard for me. Between the hours of 7 - 9pm, I battled with exhaustion, from waking up early to go to work, dealing with the work day. I was just tired - what can I say I'm getting too old for this shish. But I was able to pull it together pick one nice outfit I could squeeze myself into and just scurry out of the house. 

It was a fun evening marred only by the deplorable state of their valet car service. Whatever you do when you go there, DO NOT VALET. Waiting outside for 35 minutes in 30 degree weather dressed in barely nothing waiting for the incompetent valet to pull my car around just ruined the evening for me. I would have been better off parking at home and walking. 

However back to the evening. It was generally fun. There was good music from this band called "The Ruckus" who played Top 40 covers, very lively and energetic band, quite unexpected. People usually have a DJ at nightclubs not a band, so this was different. 

I don't know if it was good different because it didn't give us a chance to have that normal bump and grind that you loathe but inevitably crave from a nightclub. Everyone just sort of stood around (everyone being the single men) looking affected, drink in hand just listening to the music. Interaction was at an all time low. When I noticed that the band was not an opener for the evening but the actual act, I wrapped things up earlier than I normally would. 

Will I ever go back there again. Not likely. The average age was rather young and with the lack of interaction, it would have been sad without the ladies of the meetup group. So it's a no on that one. 

Step away from the emails

Found this on one of my favorite websites - Single Edition. It was under the section, "How to get over someone." Since February is "the National Break Up" month, they thought it would help those that have recently broken up, get over their recent exes.

The paragraph below was particularly poignant to me considering how many long winded emails I've written and posted on here to the same "asshole." I just wish someone had shown me this paragraph before I ventured to pour my heart out and you know how hard that is for me. But now I know and...I won't make that same mistake again. People that get love nine times out of ten don't deserve it or know what to do with it. And if the tables were turned as in if it were a man that wrote a heartfelt email to a woman she would eventually falter. But men have that impermeable heart, like rock solid that refuses to thaw. It's insane.

Anyway, for any reader who is going through a breakup, here you go, the rest of the article is pretty good too:

  

Remember, There’s No Convincing: Once someone makes the decision to move on, there’s no selling them on a relationship that they don’t think is right for them. Those long winded emails or late night (house) calls may make you feel better but they will not bring your ex back into your arms for longer than a night. So step away from the computer, do away with the cell phone and don’t try to get inside that person’s heart, head or bed thinking you can persuade them into being with you. If they want to come back to you, you trying to overtly force the issue can be counterproductive. Handle yourself with poise and if a reconnection is there, it will happen.

Professional reviews

The review was ok, just ok. It was not great but it was not as bad as I had dreamt that it would be. Sometimes reviews help make up your mind that maybe it's time you made some life changes. If after a tough year they cannot seem to be great just good, then nothing's ever going to be great, so maybe it's just not for you. I don't want to be one of those people who toils away at a job for years and wonders where their life went and watches their dreams just pass them by. I already feel that way, 3 years later and it's still a "good" review after busting my chops, good review. I want to make an effort and I promise not to have this conversation with this woman next year. Things will only change if you make an effort to change them, no will them to happen.

An afternoon at the theater

What's the best way to kick off your week? Why, a trip to the theatre of course. An afternoon at the theater is one of my all-time favourite things to do. An expensive treat but still a delightful nonetheless. What's evene better, when you don't expect to spend an afternoon at the theater but it just presents itself to you, like it did to me.

Sunday morning, after spending Saturday night indoors, I got a call from a friend of mine. She was upset and distraught over the passing of a friend and would not be able to use her theater tickets for that afternoon, she asked if I'd be interested. Well, of course I'd be interested. I didn't really have any plans that did not involve food, Champagne and loads of movies (a summary of my Sundays in that order). And you know how I love spontaneity in my life - it's one of the advantages of being single. It means I am free to do anything at any time because I do not have any immediate commitments. 

So with less than 2 hours to shower, I had to get to the theater to take in Alvin Ailey's American Dance Theater in their final performance for the season at the Fox Theater.

I was elated. I was to join a group of ladies who had planned to do this and then end the afternoon with a nice dinner downtown. How delightful? Can you hear me squee for joy?

I raced to the theater and got there just in time. This was one of those shows where you are not allowed to stroll in late. 3pm was the cutoff time and a moment after the doors would be shut and no admission until the intermission. So I raced to the doorway and made it. In all fairness, they actually started a little after 3pm but I'm not mad at them.

The show itself. It did not wow me. It left me wanting more and so much more. I kept comparing it to the brutal criticism I witness of the near perfect dancers on So You Think You Can Dance, and thinking these fell a little short. The dancing was not as in sync, the lines were not as straight and the choreography was not as poetic (or enthralling) as some of the Mia Michaels routines on SYTYCD. It just felt a little short to me. I loved some of the narration that occurred with the routines but as one of the guests commented during intermission, she would have preferred the dance to narrate the theme, to tell her the story instead of having it be slapped in her face.

After the show we all convened at Sweet Auburn Bistro and compared notes on the show. I had breakfast and a few drinks at 7:30 and drove home with a smile on my face. Dinner and a show with the ladies, you can't beat that. 

The Monday after Valentine's...Not So Bad

Please join us in celebrating Dining Out Magazine's 5th Issue Release! 

Menu Tasting By Parks Edge

Wine By Antinori

Vodka Cocktails By Karlsson's Gold

Live Music

Gift Bags for the first 50 By Almanac

I had the honor of attending this here event on February 15th. A friend had forwarded me the invite, and apparently everyone on Facebook had heard about it. Hmmm...

It was a little different for me. Park's Edge is this wee bit cute, if I can use that word, romantic restaurant. It's perfect night is Saturday night when they have this acoustic band serenade you in the bar area, right by the fireplace, it creates the perfect, most cosy setting ever. Not great on your own because you can't get to share that "romance" with anyone but still a serene evening nonetheless. You end the Saturday evening on a high. 

However, on the day of this event there were many people, quite a lot of people crammed into this perfect, teeny tiny cute little space I had made my own little "Saturday evening" secret. It felt invasive almost. However, I did not despair. There was free wine and hors d'oeuvres that met their unfortunate end very quickly out of the kitchen as everyone was indeed very hungry, and lots of people. Everywhere I turned there were people. The wine which they doled out was not the good kind. I've had wine here and it's top tier wine, on this day they gave us subpar wine. I went from white to red to the vodka and it was still bad. When vodka is bad you know it's serious. The food, so little of it and yet so many of us so quickly devoured. What were they thinking?

Most importantly, I want to go ahead and apologize to the lady that I was talking to before I bumped into a very old friend of mine. When you go for a lot of these things you bump into the same people and you very quickly start to make friends with them. One of them from my outings last year which I haven't seen since the premiere of "He's Not That Into You" was there and clearly we had a lot to catch up on since it's been an entire year. However, there was this sweet lady I had chatted up as I saw her standing by herself looking morose, possibly overwhelmed with the crowd squished into this tiny place. I always reach out to fellow soloists like myself when I go out. I feel like we should stick together. Men do, you can hardly tell a man is by himself at an event. But women we just alienate ourselves.

But on this day I was bad. I had started off talking to her when my eyes went to my friend and from there on we just alienated her. I couldn't remember her name to introduce her to my friend, I needed to talk to my friend alone but she was still there, so we talked around her. Bad Anita, bad. So I want to officially apologize to her now, even though I know she will never read this, but good karma, good. And I'm sorry. As the evening wore on, I saw her talking to some guy that she seemed to hit it off with, they even took pictures together. And because I was with my friend, the photographer approached us and asked to take a picture of us. You know (as reported on here) they don't take pictures of people by themselves. 

I actually enjoyed talking to my friend who unbeknownst to me is a fellow soloist. She vacations abroad by herself and recently returned from a trip to Thailand. Now, that is even beyond me. I might get her to be our co-blogger on here, blog about her solo travel adventures. Plus, she made the same observations I had about the pluses of going it alone. It was a good call to talk to her.   

So halfway in, tired of the cheap wine, she invited me to her Monday dinner group with a group of friends. Every Monday, a group of friends get together to break bread at a different restaurant in town, sample a different type of cuisine. She asked me to come along and how could I refuse, you know how I love to eat and after all that cheap wine I could use some good food. So I went and had a blast at this hole in the wall Vietnamese restaurant eating the freshest, tastiest Vietnamese food and laughing with her friends- who were so cool by the way for letting me crash their spot. 

I loved it. I loved everything about that evening. I loved the chance meeting. I loved that life presented something I was not expecting, I loved that I got a chance to meet some new people and make new friends. Most of all, I loved that I got to eat, drink and laugh, out loud. What could be better? 

So you see when you open yourself to adventures on your own, life will take you on a sweet ride. 

A toast to interracial dating

PLAYBOY: Do black women throw themselves at you?



MAYER: I don’t think I open myself to it. My dick is sort of like a white supremacist. I’ve got a Benetton heart and a fuckin’ David Duke cock. I’m going to start dating separately from my dick.

Ever since John Mayer made this infamous quote and declared himself (and his world traveled dick) secretly prejudicial, I've been thinking a lot of about this. Honestly, really do not blame him, I don't hate him, I just think he was expressing his inner most thoughts. And I be so bold I would say that he speaks for about 80% of the white men in America. 60% of these men don't even has as much as a Benetton heart and the overall 80% even though they do, don't care as much to even look at a black female. I know this because living in the south I have kind of noticed that there's a preponderance of white males that don't care for black females which is sad because our black men jump at the white females the first chance they get, it's not even an issue with them. So what would you call them a Benetton heart and dick and those that don't have a Black Panther dick. It's just upsetting that we live in a society where the colors don't mix, they may get to hang out together (if at all) but they don't mix romantically in anyway. Or they over think it if they want to. I've talked about it so much on here I am beginning to feel like maybe I have a problem because I am African where we are all one color and even if we weren't we are not coated with such blatant prejudices. We have other things to think about.

It's just like in school when you have these anal kids that always have a knack for arranging their crayons in order, the black and grey color pencils on one side and then the oranges and yellow pencils all nicely and neatly arranged on the other. And if you dare, pull one out and put it back in out of order, they would scream to high heavens. That's just the way we live now. We are all nicely and neatly arranged in our social lives and it would be an anomaly for a white male to really ever really fancy a black female. Then, the black female should not really expect to be picked up by the white male because that rarely ever happens, why, because of his David Duke like cock. Sad, isn't it.

Sometime last year, I know I mentioned it on here, a not so Traditional Matchmaker had rejected me because she didn't have any black male clients who would be interested. What she failed to say all so subtle was, that means her white male clients are not really interested in dating outside their race so she would really have no luck for me in her dating pool. See that, silently echoing John Mayer.

One of my girlfriends, the one who's been trying to convince me to sign onto eHarmony, sent me a note yesterday. Mind you, she claims she is not prejudicial and she loves every color, blah, blah, etc. However, she always has a knack for introducing me to every black guy she meets. It's like here is a black man and I know a black lady so they should get together, like arranging the color pencils in her head. It doesn't work that way. There are other qualities which 2 people should have to be attracted to each other but they really don't matter to them, as long as the two people in question are the same race they should quite frankly get along. Yesterday, she compounded the fact by telling me eHarmony has a Black Enterprise section, thus turning herself into the evil matchmaker lady I had encountered last year. At this point, I don't know if I really should continue my friendship with her because clearly she has latent prejudices she is yet to confront. Or maybe I am reading too much to it. The funny thing is if the roles were reversed and she happened to be single I wouldn't introduce her to the first white male I meet. I would ask her her type and connect her based on that. And they always seem to shriek whenever you state that you have a Brad Pitt crush, like he can only be loved by white women. You see...the frustration here.

The sad part is our brothers don't even think twice about dating them, I actually know some that prefer them to us, saying we have too much drama. Why won't we when we have to face these prejudices every day, even from our so-called friends.

So that's it. I think everyone, every white male and female should ask themselves, is there a part of me that agrees with John Mayer?

naughty girl thoughts all the time

I've been thinking about sex a lot.

I mean, like all the time. In the morning when I wake up, during my drive to work, at work, during my meetings ay work, I mean literally all the time. Ever since that debacle last month I have been consumed with sexual thoughts. I read somewhere that in your 30's you are at your sexual peak, like sexual 30's or whatever they called it, and that explains a lot because I was not this consumed with sex or sexual thoughts in my 20's and I had plenty of it then. Being highly sexed now would not be so bad if there was someone around to exert my energies on. Nope, nada not a peep, no willing participant. I thought men jumped at stuff like this apparently not in America. Not even after my heartfelt email below to one guy I shall quite frankly term now, "asshole attorney guy." If this was the movies and I had sent that letter to some guy, he would come knocking on my door as soon as he was done reading it. And then we would embrace and give each other "punishing kisses". I shit you not that's what they call those type of hungry kisses - punishing kisses. But this is not the movies, this is my life and it sucks and in it you are allowed to be a horny beautiful woman with no one to exert your horny desires on.

I saw a "Rune" reader sometime last week to read my fortune. I've often wondered about that, about how it goes, what will they say. She didn't say anything dynamic. You are exceptionally independent, literally and figuratively and I see you by yourself. Well, you don't say. That is the order of the day, isn't it? You see me by myself but will I continue to be? Will it end at some point? She didn't see love. She saw financial independence and education but no love. She saw hope but not in the love department. I always wonder if they're supposed to tell you good stuff, can they tell you the bad stuff as well?

Anyway, needless to say I am still horny and thinking of sex 24-7. I wonder if they have prayer circles for things like this. How do I banish such thoughts because clearly they are leading me nowhere except to hell. Am I addicted to sex now? But that would assume I am having it and wanting lots of it, like alcohol addiction. But this is the reverse, I am addicted to wanting something I don't currently have.

So that's it, that's my update. A ho-hum Valentine's spent being hopeful for a miracle and thinking (more like pondering) sordid sexual thoughts. Wish you were me?!

Valentine's Weekend (part 2) 2010

Survived yet another Valentine's day in the city as a single gal. *high fives*

I survived and didn't jump off a roof, barf repeatedly or drink myself to stupor, even though that last one seemed plausible by Saturday. So, I survived it and I am waiting for it next year. With each year I surprise myself, it either gets better or worse, or I am just numb and don't even remember it exists. Surviving it as a woman is so much harder than it is on the men. Men fall into the numb category. I went to this bar last night and these two guys were just smoking and drinking away getting all pissy because the bartender switched the channels on the TV from the Nascar race. I just thought, okay, someone obviously doesn't have a Valentine's. Instead of getting mad about it instead he's rather pissed because he can't watch the race. This is a totally different perspective.

Saturday afternoon I scrapped all the plans I had which were not many and had to rewrite my plans. For one, it snowed on Friday so I couldn't do the Valentine's dance at Tongue and Groove as originally scheduled. I knew people just might show up but it had snowed all day, I didn't want to risk being the only one there. So Saturday after being cooked up at home all Friday I decided to try something a little different.

One of my meetups was scheduled to see a band play at Star Community Bar over at Little Five Points Corner Tavern. It was either that or some dance party over at the Perimeter. I chose to see the live band even though I had never heard of them.

But here's the thing...in going out, it's all about choices. When you have a choice between this place or that, it's crucial that you choose one that works. No, after this one I might touch base at this other one. It doesn't always work because they might be located in 2 different ends of the city or you might be too exhausted to scurry over to the second one. It's all about making that choice and sticking to it and hoping that's the one that works. I never seem to make the right choice. I always hope the choice I am making is the right one but inevitably after a sour evening I realize it might not have been.

So here we are, back to Saturday. The band was this heavy metal loud grungey band. No musical talent whatsoever. Not really my thing. But I thought, live music is live music, after a couple of drinks it will all start to make sense. The meetup group was to meet at Little Five Corner Tavern before the show for a few drinks. After meeting the group, which was a very good group by the way (fun loving beer drinking cheery group of guys) I didn't feel like I needed to be at the show. There was a lot of smoking involved everywhere, at the bar where we had drinks and more to come at the show (so I was told). I just wanted to take myself away from that and kick myself for not going to the dance party over at the Perimeter (which I know did not involve dive bars and cigarettes). So you see bad choice made!

I ended the evening at P'Cheen over at the Highlands. I had been here before to meet with a group of friends and support a local DJ friend of mine. I was familiar with the crowd and the fact that the bar also permits smoking after 10pm. But after surviving Little Five Points, I thought it wouldn't hurt to engage in some more smoking, in this one at least there's a DJ and some very good beer to support me.

The music was awesome. It was a mix of old school hip-hop and rap. He dug up Brand New Heavies, Q-Tip, Naughty by Nature and shit. He was awesome. The crowd very lively and alternative was so into each other. This is never a good thing anywhere. But the DJ made up for it. It always surprises me how you can be in a place with a lot of people and still manage to be invisible to everyone except the bartender. I can never understand that. I may never understand it. I promised myself I would stay till midnight and then leave so as not to be (technically) alone on Valentine's. But in this place I might as well have been.

Valentine's Weekend (part 1) 2010

Went for a couple of events last night.

Both of them duds.

I don't know why I even bothered. According to the bartender at the second place, "this is the slow season" it picks up right after February. Okay, I will take your word for it. It took everything in me to go out too. One because I was broke and I said I would try to save up for my vacation and two, because it was freaking cold and the snow was coming. Valentine's Day weekend is never a good time to go out. 3 years of going out on this weekend, I should compile the statistics by now.

The first place was at Palomar Hotel (which I have heard so much about by the way) for the Queen of Hearts Social Club Cocktail party. We were met by Blane Bachelor, which I had never heard about, apparently she's the local Atlanta columnist, sort of our own version of Carrie Bradshaw and then, a palm reader psychic who will tell you your fortune. They promised to have drink specials, along with my personal favorite, food samples from Pacci restaurant. By the time I decided what to wear I was an hour late, which shouldn't make a difference except that this was supposed to be a 2 hour event. There was a drawing of fabulous prizes for some. I didn't win anything in the raffle draw but I got my palm read to me, something along the lines of stating the obvious. It was a dud. There were people to talk to except they didn't want to be bothered, they didn't even look up to say hi. Some pregnant lady felt the need to always cut in front of me without saying excuse me or Hi. And there were some other singletons a-browsing but they were not in the mood to socialize. On my way out, as I stopped to take in the supposedly marvelous Palomar Hotel I bumped into another Singleton and a soloist who provided me with the same update that I had so painfully observed.

Her words:

It was filled with people chatting with their friends and couples who came along to win prizes (and they did!) She couldn't break into the groups of people chatting because that would be rude and they didn't seem to want to stop their conversation to make a new friend.

She echoed my thoughts exactly as if she read my mind. We exchanged numbers and I promised to call her next time I need someone to accompany me to one of these things.

The second place (you would think I would have learnt my lesson by now and called it an evening) was an even bigger dud. It was Aja's restaurant's Chinese New Year celebration, culled by the event promoter as "one of the biggest traditions of the year". You don't say?! It was empty and it stayed empty. I saw the event promoter pacing frantically in frustration. I bet he was frustrated, so am I? I don't even think the staff knew what was going on. I ordered dinner and went home by 11.

Why can't we go it alone?

We live in such a coupled up world, we are naturally drawn to attending life's events with someone, anyone; as if to show up alone would be unbecoming. I see that all the time. People arrive to parties in pairs, sometimes three's and then they spend the entire evening talking to their companion(s). What's the point of showing up hoping to meet someone, make new friends if you'd rather spend the entire evening talking to your friend?

I don't get it. I have never gotten it. Maybe that's why I am drawn to going it alone. I vacation alone, travel alone, party alone and dine alone. And in my self time, I realize that you are more open to starting the rarest of conversations with all sorts of strangers. With that other lone person. You are open to communicating in the barest form, you have selfless conversations, you hear yourself smile at the slightest comments from that total stranger and you savor that moment as if partaking of a piece of life's fervors. I love it! I think everyone should get to around to it to love it, embrace it, try it, even if it's just that once.

Will talking about it change the way people act towards it, maybe not. But who knows...

Anita is Upset!

Anita is upset!

I've been upset all weekend. In some ways I don't know what is upsetting me or what can make me feel better. In some ways I do. I am upset because of a lot of things. I am upset because it's Valentine's week. I am upset because I even care that it is Valentine's week. There was a time when I didn't. At all. I am upset because I am in situations that I cannot change. I am upset because I need to make some difficult decisions and I don't know how to make them. I am upset because I know the outcome of the difficult decisions and I don't know how to determine if they are the right decisions. I am upset because there seems to be some lack of direction in my year so far. I am upset because this is not uncommon.

There is no summary for how I feel except to say simply: I am upset. This is a different kind of feeling from what I've felt before. I had gotten used to feeling numb and pretending that the world around me is a work of fiction that I could manipulate and shut down when needed. Right now, I do care, I am lending my ear to listen to my life pass me by and it's caring too much that is getting me upset.

There is no better way to say it.

Alas, it is February

Astonishingly as I read on, I felt not jealousy but a grown detachment from that which had previously absorbed me. A small Martian in a shiny helmet and kneepads streaked along the path, followed by a puffing adult. I followed their progress, feeling that in this subject I could breathe more easily, and I seemed to have been granted a respite from professional rivalry. It was not that I did not care, but I did not care so very much anymore.

Excerpt from Revenge of the Middle-Aged Woman by Elizabeth Buchan.

I had one of those hectic weekends that left me with a lot of time to think and a lot of time to not think. I don't know if that makes any sense. In my thinking I resolved not to think; that the thinking part of me should really belong to another Anita, the busy part should take over (and eventually did because I had so much to do) and reign supreme, leaving little or no time for brooding. And in my thinking or not thinking, I came up with the feeling described in the text above. It's not that I do not care, it's that I do not care so very much anymore. I shall, most of all, trust in God, who oversees all sidetracks in my life, and strive to take my own advice and do nothing, be still, listen. Most of all, do not worry about it.

That being said, you (meaning me) can't help thinking: what if I had done this differently, or that differently, or what do I need to change, or how can I change this or that, what life plans do I need to make? Pffft...mere thoughts that race through my mind in a 30 second vacuum. But I can only love the best way I can and hope that the right person appreciates it. Granted there are some things that need to change like my lack of cooking skills. However, this is me and me is in this for the long bumpy ride.