The city in which I live boasts two parks with lovely, well-populated walking trails that afford perambulators the opportunity to complete their regular constitutionals without fear of being run over by careless drivers, attacked by unleashed dogs or accosted by ill-intentioned perpetrators. The city in which I live has also decided that said parks require some major improvements and, in their infinite wisdom, scheduled the renovations of both parks at precisely the same time. Meaning that both have been fenced off and closed to the public until further notice.
Since the city planners apparently have no regard for my health or safety, I’ve been forced out onto the mean streets to get my daily exercise. Fortunately, it’s not a place known for great crime waves, and in the early morning hours, I figure I’m out at low-tide anyway. So, keeping an eye out for drivers to whom I’m invisible and dogs who might decide to play a game of Chase The Walker (running is seriously not a part of my repertoire at this point … I would lose. Badly.), I’ve begun exploring the city.
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At what point does being single go from a temporary state to a lifestyle to a life? If you’re a rebounder, you may never have extended periods of downtime, bouncing out of one relationship and right into the next one. Or you could be a person who prefers to take a bit of time after the demise of one coupling to regroup before you’re ready to take up with anyone new.
That regrouping time would make singlehood a temporary condition. Just a little lull in the romantical area while you reassess what went wrong in your previous relationship and strategize to not to let it happen again. This is also the time where you likely listen to a lot of sad songs, have imaginary conversations with your Ex about what you should have said during that final argument and fantasize about running into him/her/them with your new, hotter partner while they’re looking particularly lonely and desperate or hooked up with some skank. It’s not a good time to be dating.
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My phone tweedled at me the other day. It attempts to communicate with me pretty regularly, using a variety of vocalizations; but I’ve yet to decipher its many chirps, pings and boops. For all I know, it could be rutting season and the phone is trying to attract a mate.
I didn’t recognize the little bing-bong as one of the regular sounds that mean nothing to me, and when I looked at the phone’s screen it simply read “22.” I thought it was either a default system message or something I’d added under the assumption that, unlike every password and PIN I set, I wouldn’t immediately forget what “22” signified. Continue reading →
It’s pretty safe to say that anyone who’s currently single, or has been in the recent past, has tried or considered online dating. What used to be the punchline of jokes about desperate singles, has become the go-to method for meeting people — and the punchline for jokes about stalkers and catfish.
Some sites are geared toward a broad audience. They have millions of members, most of whom are who they claim to be on their profile and not predatory, psychopathic serial-killers (probably). They operate on the theory that of you throw enough rocks into a crowd, you’re bound to hit someone. Others are niche sights aimed at certain segments of the population, although not always accurately. I regularly get e-mails inviting me to join Black People Meet and Asian People Meet, despite being neither Black nor Asian.
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With the days getting longer, the weather getting warmer and flowers bursting forth from the earth in a Ta-Dah! of color and fragrance, Spring has not been shy about announcing its arrival this year. And I’ve welcomed the season just as enthusiastically, spending as much time as I can out on the veranda enjoying the beauty and sweet perfume of season’s first blooms.
As is typical, Spring not only coaxes new life from the ground, it also invites the children of the village to come out and play. The sound of their laughter and excited voices as they run and play, indicating it’s an invitation they eagerly accepted. Continue reading →
The Writing Challenge of Indeterminate Duration – Day 24
Cringe-worthy 7th Grade Prose
Anyone who considers him or herself a writer of any kind, has likely heard some version of the advice “write what you know.” Simple advice, and good advice, in my opinion. But when I was in junior high, no one had yet passed that little bit of wisdom along to me; or someone had, but I’d decided, as kids will, that it didn’t apply to me. Continue reading →
The Writing Challenge of Indeterminate Duration – Day 23
What could have happened to you in high school that would have altered the course of your life?
I skipped over this writing prompt a few times. But after discovering all my old notebooks and diaries, I thought I’d have a better perspective on what I was like and which paths I might have taken. Mostly what I discovered, however, was what a colossal dork I was. I found myself so mortified at times that I couldn’t finish reading certain passages. Continue reading →
The Writing Challenge of Indeterminate Duration – Day 16
I’m going bookless today!
I’d selected a writing prompt last night … I think I’ve mentioned that sometimes I like to let my brain work on a post while I sleep. But before I could noodle it around very much, it occurred to me that aside from a casual remark or two, it’s been a while since I blogged about my adventures in Lesbiland. Continue reading →
The Writing Challenge of Indeterminate Duration – Day 7
Ten years from now, you meet up with an old friend you haven’t seen in a decade. Write the conversation you have.
Are you as surprised as I am? This is my seventh post in as many days – who’d-a-thunk? With my recent track record, I was prepared to have blown it sometime around day three. And not to be all sweet and sticky, because I don’t care for that stuff, but all the support I got when I knocked the dust of my blog last week, is what kept me going. So thank you, it means a lot and it helped enormously. Continue reading →
As a lesbian who hasn’t been in a relationship with a man since the late 80s, I can’t speak with the same authority on their fun-bits as I can about a woman’s. However, unlike hairspray usage and shoulder-pad size, it’s probably safe to say not much has evolved in certain areas since I last swung Continue reading →