For last weekend to now, my life has been … shall we say, interesting. Like an episode of Sex in the City if it was a low-budget sitcom on the CW. In other words, so random it’s funny. I’m a traditional gal and not ashamed of it. I want my door opened. I want guys to walk on the curb side! Dutch? I don’t speak it. Now before you dog a sista out, let’s get a few things clear. I also believe my ability to throw down in the kitchen is one of my greatest attributes. And leave the house looking busted? Never. So see, I give and I expect to receive.
But brakes have been put on what I was taught as a girl growing up in rural Nelson County, VA, since moving to the big city. My mother took pride in penmanship. PENMANSHIP! Do you know how many teachers took me aside from first to twelfth grade to compliment me on my mama’s handwriting? A lot.
Then there is cooking. I can cook. I mean, why would I want to eat out all of the time? But whereas my grandfather and father appreciated the time and effort that goes into making sweet potato pie and pound cake, I don’t know if it has the same impact on the males of my generation. I mean, who needs my baked goods when they have their mama’s at their fingertips?
These are all things I contemplate. And then yesterday, I was chastised by a friend for not replying to texts. Yeah, yeah, I’m bad about it. BUT, if someone could just grow to appreciate my penmanship the texting faux pas would cease to exist I’m sure. But I digress, my response, I’ve been busy. I was then told that it’s like I’m running a marathon.
Wait! Hold up! BOOM!
Running a marathon? Barely. Let’s keep it 100. Usually when I’m not home on a weeknight, I’m at church. And then Friday and Saturday it’s often nada for me. What world is this person living in? In my world most marathons are held during the weekend. But the comment did make me think. I spend a lot of my time free volunteering and working with kids. Am I missing out on opportunities for … what? Haphazardly planned non-dates? After analyzing the situation, I’ve decided if that’s what I’m missing out on, I’ll carry on as I am.
Believe me, I’m the queen of the awkward encounter, whether it is in-person or via Facebook from some lonely soul who I haven’t seen since we were 16. Come on son. I wasn’t even around for them and I long for the days of yesteryear. When real dates existed and people matured at a normal rate. How did we digress from Clair and Cliff Huxtable to this? That’s the real question.