The year I officially stopped dating

It's no mystery to people who love me that it is my heart's desire to meet a wonderful man whose crazy ying works perfectly with my crazy yang and the two of us can build a life together and have babies that we could try our hardest not to mess up or at least make sure they aren't as messed up as us.

I know I am not perfect. I know I have my issues and problems and I know I am not the most beautiful girl in the world. In the room yes. In the world, probably not. Whatever the case, I would have never thought in a million years that finding a quality man would be such a difficult task.

The year 2009 has by far been the craziest dating story year ever.

It started in January with the journalist that a few hours before our first date, he sent me a text message breaking up with me saying, "Toya I think we should move on and see other people. It's not you its me." Funny because since it was just our first day, I was under the impression that we were already seeing other people. He was absolutely right. It wasn't me, it was definitely him.

Then there was the classmate with the white shoes who seemed quite awe struck by my beauty. We flirted for weeks and then one evening he proclaimed is affection towards me. I found it adorable and quite flattering. We chatted, exchanged emails and even shared a romantic kiss or two. Although he never confirmed it, his silences to my accusation of him being married (because of his unavailability), confirmed it. We never spoke again.

Next came Wing Man. We had met a few years earlier but never went out. When we met up again he approached me as a friend and offered to go out with me as my "wing man" to help me get out and meet other men. He would always call and ask me out, pick me up, and pick up the tab when we hung out. He did the things a man would do when he is dating a woman. A week later he professed that he wanted to "date" me. He said he had felt that he was given a second chance with me and did not want to mess it up. After I agreed to "date" he suddenly got busy and unavailable. Several months later he explained that he got the impression that I was looking for something serious and did not want anyone to get hurt. When I expressed that an adult conversation would have been more appropriate he sheepishly agreed.

My next experience was so wonderfully bad that it deserved a blog of its own.

Then came the last week of November and the first week of December. I had 3, yes 3 dates cancel on me in two weekends. The hot guy with the hot body, the one I really liked, canceled because of work. He asked if we could reschedule for later in the week. I suggested he call me to work out the details and we've never spoken since.

The African, canceled because he was too tired after a day of Black Friday shopping. Instead of rescheduling, he popped up on IM a couple of times to basically share how busy he was taking care of his 14 year old son. He has since been blocked

The there was the Stupid Sheriff. Excuse me the Stupid Deputy Sheriff. We agreed that we would meet on Saturday and he was to call me Thursday for details. I never heard from him until the following Tuesday and instead of explaining his flakiness he simply texted me a Tiger Woods joke. He followed up his dumb text with two other texts reading, "Hey!!!! How are you?" When I didn't reply he texted again asking if he had scared me off. I took this opportunity to share with him why I was no longer interested. He proceeded to use the family matters card, apologized and told me I deserve better. He is absolutely right. I most certainly do.

So here we are less than three weeks away from a New Year 2010. Every year I find myself wondering what will this year bring. Will this be the year I meet my partner, my mate. I can honestly say 2009 has cured me. I am done. Over and out!

In the Twilight Zone

Very rarely does a movie come along that is soooooo bad that I find myself obsessed with its flaws. Even more rarely does said movie make a bizillion dollars opening weekend. New Mood is that movie. A movie that is so bad, I was inspired to share my thoughts, insights and takeaways.

Belle and her age obsession - seriously what is the message we are sending here? An 18 year obsessed with the fact that she is getting old. And what makes her feel this way? The fact that her 100 plus year old boyfriend stopped aging at 17 because he is DEAD. Belle stresses over the fact that she will get old and aged and pasty boy will always look 17. Can we find a more pressing relationship issue to obsess about? How about the fact the you will never have children with this man? How about the fact that you and your boyfriend can't take a romantic trip together to Hawaii because, he will sparkle in the sun. How about the fact that anytime you cut yourself you have to worry that he or his family might want to drain you. I'm sorry Belle, your 18 years of youth pale (no pun intended) in comparison to your bigger problems.


My big take away message from this movie was women have to choose between dogs or bloodsuckers. Which is the lesser of two evils? When faced with a dilemma like that, I say go with the one with the best abs.

Speaking of best abs, why in God's name did the writer/director/producer, whoever decide to have Edward take off his shirt and show off his scrawny pasty body? Especially after Jacob's shirt was not only off but it was off for most of the movie. Note: if you are going to show the wack chest, show it BEFORE you show the hot one. You have to build. The chests should get better, not worse.


Speaking of hot chest, the scene when its raining and Belle goes to Jacob's house and Jacob walks by shirtless bulging muscles and ripped abs. And its raining and its all hot and sexy. What does Belle say? "You cut your hair?" What?? Is that the first thing you noticed? I was thinking more, "F#@% ME NOW!!!" But that's just me.




So to recap, Jacob hot, Edward not, Belle annoying, New Mood, stupid.

The more things change the more they stay the same

1972 - I was 3 going on 4. My family went to Kentucky for a few weeks. I was in my uncles living room all alone playing the record player. I started listening to ABC by the Jackson Five. The part of the song came when Michael says, "sit down girl, I think I love you, no get up girl show me what you can do." Following directions, I sit and then I get up. Then Michael says, "shake it shake it baby" I got up and start shaking it. I was in my own world. Pure joy. I was so entranced I didn't realize my entire family was standing behind me watching. I stopped out of embarrassment. Every time I hear that song, I remember that moment and the pure joy I felt.

1988- I came home for Christmas break from San Francisco. My oldest nephew AJ, now 25, he was 4 at the time. He stood in front of the TV watching Michael Jackson's Smooth Criminal video. He was in his own world. Dancing, trying to recreate Michael's moves and singing at the top of his lungs, "Are you walking, are you walking, are you walking Annie?" We all stood around watching in tears cracking up. It was the sweetest and purest moment to see a child completely loving a song. He didn't know anything about Jackson nose job, cleft chin or any of the tabloid stories. He just knew how great the song was and the joy it brought him.

2009 - I played Smooth Criminal and Bad on my iPhone and recorded my 2 and 5 year old nephews dance their hearts out. Here in course of almost 40 years many things have changed. Technology, clothing, communication but one thing has remained the same. The power of amazing music and the joy it brings to children. At least the children in my family.

Thank you Michael Jackson





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Best Worst Date Ever

I have had many bad dates in my years of dating but the date I had Saturday night will forever hold the place as the worst date in history.

Let's start at the beginning. It began on Thursday night when he tricked me into giving him my phone number. He asked for my cell phone and I thought he was just putting his number into my phone. Well no, he called his phone from my phone, thus recording my number into his caller ID. I found it amusing and harmless.

So on Saturday night we actually talked on the phone. I had no plans that evening and since I figured I needed dating practice, I agreed to meet him for dinner.

What did I learn from him during dinner? First, I still am not sure what he does for employment. Claiming to be a casting agent, he had great difficulty explaining his job to me. He did explain that before the housing crisis he made lots and lots of money as a loan officer. However, he no longer had such money. I am assuming it was lost in what he later described as his bad gambling addiction. Yes, he shared that he use to go to Vegas a few times a month with an ex-girlfriend and run thru thousands of dollars at blackjack.

He later went on to share that his goal wasn't to save money but to make hundreds of thousands of dollars at one time. He said that the first step to this Road to Riches was to first visualize himself with luxury items. He said he was doing this by calling expensive hotels and car dealerships and pretending to be in the market for such items, requesting price information. He even said he called a private jet company once for a price quote to fly him and a few friends to the Caribbean for the weekend.

I sat at dinner listening to this conversation and found it very difficult to keep straight face.

Then the bill came. It sat on the table far longer than it should have. Then he picked it up, looked at it for a few minutes, went through his wallet and asked, "Do you have ten dollars?" To which I in my best black woman attitude voice told him "no." He paid with his credit card and made up some excuse about how he didn't want to use his credit card. Whatever!

The waiter bought his card back for him to sign the receipt and he stepped away to go to the bathroom. His leaving concerned me, as it would most people at this point, so I proceeded to look at the credit card to see what name was on it. Well the card said, "H&R Block Client." My girlfriend later told me that this was likely his tax refund.

He returns from the bathroom and asks if I would like to go somewhere for a drink and to shoot a few games of pool. I had enough at this point so I politely declined the invitation.

As if the date couldn't get any worse, as he walked me to my car, I asked him where his car was parked to which he proudly proclaimed, "I don't have a car. I was dropped off."

Thank you loser guy!!! You were so kind to not only buy me dinner, but you also provided me something far more valuable. A story that I will be telling for the rest of my life.

No Shopping, No Peace

Have you noticed lately that since we've been in this crazy economic crisis that shopping isn't the zen experience it use to be?

I am the type of person who likes to do what I call, Window Shopping with the Option to Buy. I simply like to walk around looking with no real plan in mind and if something tickles my fancy at the right price, I'll buy it.

This is my way of relaxing. This has always been a very peaceful and serene way to spend a lazy day.

Well not anymore. With the economy being what it is, no one is really buying anything therefore the salespeople are out in full force. Today I walked into Eddie Bauer just to check to see if they had long jeans. I don't think I was in that store for more than five minutes when I was approached by about six salespeople.

The first lady was innocent enough, she simply greeted me. Next was the guy trying to make himself busy folding shirts, he greets me and ask if I was finding everything I was looking for. I had only been there a minute so I really hadn't had a chance to look. I said yes and continued looking.

Then it seemed that I was the only customer in the store because every other person in the store came up to me in machine gun formation saying hello in a cult-like way and asking "have you found everything you're looking for?" At one point I was still in the middle of telling one lady that I was fine when another women seemingly interrupted my sentence to ask the question of the day, "have you found everything you're looking for?"

Enough! My peaceful shopping experience was destroyed. Too much. I felt like I was in one of those tourist trap swap meets or street markets where all the vendors are overly aggressive and calling to you that it's free to look.

Let's get this economy back on track so I can go on to being ignored in the stores like the good ole days.

Two Things That Have Changed My Life

1) Strapless bra from Nordstroms
2) Ross Dress for Less

I'm a super hero

I never realized it until this evening, but I am a super hero because I have a super power. It's called 20/15 vision. Most people are lucky to have 20/20 but through modern medicine ie, Lasiks surgery, I have gone from close to needing a cane and guide dog to 20/15 vision.

I didn't realize that this was a super power until this evening. I was at a night club dancing and there was a small sign on the table. The average person probably couldn't read this sign unless they picked it up. I know that even when I wore glasses I would have had to get super close to the sign to read it. But not tonight, I simply focused my eyes, there were bionic sounds and voila, I read it.

I find myself using my super power alot. Driving down the street, walking in the mall,etc. Many people will request me to use my super power. They ask, "what does that say?" I go into focus and BAM!!! I read it to them.

I must say, its a pretty cool power to have, considering I spent my entire adolescences and most of my adulthood blind as a bat.

Yes, I'd prefer to be able to stop time or even fly, but 20/15 vision, ain't so bad.

It's all about the music

I initially started writing this blog sharing different situations in my life that included a Michael Jackson song. After my first draft I realize how unoriginal it was as well as kinda boring. So I decided to take a different spin on things.

Like most the world, I've spent the last two days listening to Jackson classics and watching some of the most amazing videos every made.

I have always liked these songs but now with MJs death I find myself really dissecting the songs lyrically and musically. Many of them are simply perfection. They are inspired.

Listening to these songs has made me hungry to hear great music so I've proceeded to listen to classics by Stevie Wonder, Earth Wind and Fire and even a modern day God-sent Jill Scott.

I find myself asking, what happened to good music and why are we constantly bombarded by such garbage on a daily basis. R&B use to be an amazing art form, now it's complete and utter trash.

How can people call themselves artist and put out such noise. And why is there an audience for madness?

Michael Jackson's music will live on long after his passing. And so will the songs of Motown, Earth Wind and Fire, Jill Scott and a few other amazing performers. Yet the masses and the radio airwaves will continue to bombard us with Blame in on the Alcohol and Soulja Boy.

Twenty, thirty, forty years from now we will not be celebrating Bootylicious but Dancing Machine, ABC and Man in the Mirror will live on.

Shut up and ___________!

I am a phone person. I love talking on the phone. Always have. I remember when I was in elementary school how we were the first people of my friends to get call waiting and 3 way calling. I remember being on the phone for hours and hours with my friends talking about absolutely nothing.

I still enjoy talking on the phone playing catch up with friends, gossiping and laughing about my dating life.

What I don't understand is why people feel the need to have long extended conversations out in public. Today at the gym, the girl next to me on the elliptical machine got a phone call and proceeded to have this ridiculously long and loud conversation. I was standing next to her and had my iPod paying but I still managed to hear about how much weight she has gained and how her friend didn't notice it at her birthday party because she was wearing a big dress. TMI, I don't care about this girl. Why must I be subjected to her personal conversations? I always thought that if you are really getting a good workout, you should be able to talk but you really don't want to. To this lady I say, "shut up and workout"

But it's just not while working out. It's in the locker room, at the grocery store, in line at Starbucks, walking around CVS, eating at a restaurant, at the movies. EVERYWHERE!! Are these conversations so important that people can't wait until they are in private? Why must the rest of the world suffer through your dumb conversations? And why must you talk extra loud? Shut up all ready! Hang up the damn phone you loser!

Suck Fest 2009

So by now everyone knows I fractured two toes. I have been forced to tell what happened pretty much every day since it happened. First it was the friends and family I called immediately after it happened and then its the trickling of co-workers as they notice me hobbling around campus.

I love how most people just assume that I was doing something fun and athletic like hiking or running. I hate breaking the news to them that I was simply walking to fast and bumped into the door.

What most people don't completely grasp is how horribly devastating this is for me. Just three weeks ago I got a kick in the butt from my scale and was back strong working out and eating well. I was running and doing yoga 2 days a week, lifting weight and really watching my food. I made a trip to the farmers market and bought a bunch of fresh fruits and vegetables and couldn't wait to eat them. I was so excited one night I planned to have squash, asparagus and spinach for dinner. I am quite positive that I lost a good 3 lbs in that kick start period.

So Sunday morning in the ER I lay in the hospital bed waiting for the doctor to tell me my x-ray results. Trying to be positive I told myself, "its only dislocated, I'll be better in a few days and back to my routine." Then when the doctor came in and broke the news to me, my demeanor completely changed. I began plotting what my next fattening meal would be. Why should I even try losing weight, I can't workout for a month. My plan was to go to McDonald's once I left the hospital and get a sausage biscuit and hash browns. Cooler heads prevailed and I instead did my regular Sunday morning Trader Joe's run and came home and had a sensible breakfast.

I was proud of me. I inspired myself. I was the shit! I could do this, broken toe or not!! I'm fucking hot and 40 damnnit!!

So I emailed my trainer to find out what I could do. I figured I could ride the bike, do upper body weights and eat super super healthy. I had this whole thing figured out. I began to fantasize about how hot I was gonna be in the next weeks. How I would get a gold star at my Weight Watchers meeting when I shared how I was determined to stay on track regardless of my current disability. I was unstoppable!

Monday I was a super star. Stayed within my daily points. Only ate really healthy food. Tuesday was the same but Tuesday I was excited. I didn't have class so now I could go to the gym. I went to the gym ready to go, visualizing the hot molten me that would emerge. I sat on the stationary bike and my heart dropped.

It literally dropped. I couldn't get my heart rate up to save my life. When I regularly work out, my heart rate is anywhere between 145 and 150. Anything below that I know I need to kick it up. I took that stupid bike to level 15. My legs were burning. I was going about 95 to 100 RPE and my heart rate would not get above 120. I was so hurt. Where was my endorphin rush? My joy diminished. I officially hated that gym.

Here we are on Friday and I haven't been back. Instead I drank and ate like a damn fool while watching the Laker game last night. I really have to get this together because I have 4 to 6 weeks of this and I can't afford to have my scale curse me out again.

10 Random Things I will Never Understand

1. Why do people say, "to make a long story short" and then the story seems to get longer and longer?
2. Why do people allow their nail polish to get so ridiculously chipped? Just remove it already.
3. Why do grown ass men walk around in public with pigtails and house shoes?
4. What is the purpose of a belt if your pants are below your ass?
5. If you are wearing sandals, shouldn't you invest in a bottle of lotion for your heels?
6. Why is R. Kelly not in jail?
7. Is fifteen minutes of fame really worth kissing Flavor Flav?
8. Kanye West?
9. Why do men hold on to your phone number for years and years after they blew the relationship.
10. Why do people always say, "you didn't gain weight over night so don't expect to lose it over night," when in reality, you can gain 5 lbs over a binge weekend and it will take you a good month to get rid of it.

Breed wisely

Everyone woman has a knucklehead in her past that she thanks her lucky stars that she never got pregnant. The thought of having to deal with a fool for 18 plus years is pretty horrific. As we say, a bullet was dodged.

Unfortunately, there are far too many women (and men) who aren't so lucky. Some only get hit by the bullet, while others pretty much load the chamber, put the gun up to their chest and pulled the trigger.

I am always amazed when I see and hear about folks who have children with crazy people. The subject is near and dear to my heart because I work with children that would be far better human beings if they had different parents (mother/father or both).

So this morning I was reading the news online and listening to NPR when I both read and heard that Mel Gibson has confirmed that his 28 year-old girlfriend is indeed pregnant. Ewww. Do you really want alcoholic, anti-semetic, divorced, bitter, angry, crazy, 8-times baby daddy to be YOUR baby daddy? I think Mel would qualify as a bad breeding choice.

Even without the the above mention flaws, let's look at Mel. Eww. He is so not Mad Max or even Riggs at this point. Let's face it. He is old, crusty and gross. He is just plain too old for this shit!

LA Marathon

So every year the City of Los Angeles puts its residence on house arrest for a couple of hours on a Sunday. It's called the LA Marathon. After spending one Sunday a few years ago driving in circles trying to find a way to just get across the street, I decided that for future marathons, I would prepare to stay at home and do nothing that day.

This was all fine and dandy when the Marathon happened on a random Sunday in March. However this year it was moved to Memorial Day. So now I would be held hostage in my home on a holiday Monday when I would rather be outside, hiking, having brunch, or just enjoying a day away from work. Needless to say, when I discovered that my Monday was shot, I became very bitter and have done nothing but complain.

This morning over breakfast, I decided to turn on the marathon, since I was trapped in the house, just to check it out. For the first time, I was actually mesmerized. Part of it has to do with the fact that in the last year I have attempted to join the ranks of runners. I have ran/walked two 5Ks in the last six months. I have gotten my pace to about a 13 min mile doing intervals of running and walking. My goal is to get to a straight running 10 minute mile.

So you have to imagine how completely impressed I was watching the pack of women Elite runners in what appeared to be sprinting. A few blocks away from my house marked mile 13. These women were at mile 13 in less than an hour into the race. Crazy. Not to mention, the runners looked as if this speedy pace was no big deal. Like it was easy breezy.

During my first 5K in January, pictures were taken. You can see the sheer agony and stress on my face. I was only running 3 miles and my pace was about 14min/mile. I was dying. It was all over my face. But these athletes astounded me.

So I think its safe to say that I won't be as bitter about next year's marathon. Who knows, I may even show up to whatever mile marker is near my house and cheer the runners on.

Stuck in my head

This morning I woke up with a song in my head. It was a song composed in my subconscious whilst I slept. The lyrics were, "Oh cucumber, oh cucumber. I'll never find another like you." Not sure what or who that's about.

One man's junk is another man's are you frickin kidding me?

I was on my way to get my eyebrows waxed at about 10:30 this morning, and hadn't gotten even a 1/2 mile from the house when I had passed not one, not two but 4 yard sales. Or Junk Sales as they appeared to me from my car.

It reminded me of a comment a former acquaintance once made saying, "when you drive by yard sales in your neighborhood, you realize those people have the same junk you have." Well in the case of this morning, my junk is better than their junk. WAY better.

There was one place where they had vacuum cleaners, carpet cleaners, mattresses and my all time favorite item: a pair of PINK men's dress shoes. Was this a going out of business Pimp Sale?

As I returned home later around 1:30pm the other yard sales in the area had wrapped it up for the day, but the Pimp Sale was going strong. And much to my surprise, the pink shoes had not moved.

Strapped to the wagon

I am one of those obsessive people who weighs myself everyday. Every single day. It doesn't make me feel bad, it doesn't necessarily make me feel good. It just keeps me focused and in check.

Well in the last couple of weeks I have completely blown off the idea of weight loss. Although I've talked the talk, there has been no walking what so ever. It started off with a slight cold, which prevented me from working out since I couldn't breathe. Then came a bout with sadness that drove me to stuffing my face with everything in sight. The more fried and chocolatety the better. Then as if it couldn't get any worse, it was "that" time of the month, which only gave me more license to stuff my face. Nothing like a salt and chocolate mixture. I do recall pouring my Nestle Crunch Bunches over my popcorn while watching Star Trek and being in PMS heaven.

The days started off nice and healthy. I made a healthy lunch, ate a healthy breakfast and was ready to go. But by 3pm, I had indulged in too much of everything else.

So obsessively, I continued to get on the scale and saw the number creep up. I said to myself, that's ok, I'll be back on track tomorrow. The ritual went on for about two weeks. The scale was pretty steady so my stress level was low.

Then came this past weekend. I skipped yoga on Friday, skipped hiking on Saturday morning, ate and drank Saturday nite and Sunday nite. So I have avoided the scale for the last few days. Until this morning.

Has your scale ever spoken to you? Well mine did this morning. It said, "you fat ass heifer, stop eating and get your ass to the gym" Have you ever stepped on the scale and were so shocked and flabbergasted by what you saw that you immediately jumped off? Kinda like turning your head and closing your eyes when someone is about to crash or fall? That was my response to my scale this morning. YIKES.

So here were are at 4:30 pm. Not only have I eaten healthy and within reason today, I went for a walk/run after work and will be leaving the house in a minute to do a yoga class.

Sometimes we need our scales to be mean to us in order to get us back on track. It's unfortunate that it has to come to such name calling, but hey, what can you do. You can always tell the scale to kiss your fat ass and keep on going, but I don't know if that will solve the real problem.

My first blog

I have been told by friends that I should start blogging. Clearly someone wants to hear what I have to say. So tonite at another attempt to avoid school work, I signed up and here I am blogging. So what the heck am I suppose to blog about?