Not a participator.

I haven’t dated since arriving in NYC in June 2005. Unfortunately, I’ve had my many moments of drunkenness were I’ve spit in a few fellas mouths (that’s my affectionate term for kissing). But no one-on-one dates were I sit across from one person participating in the game. Some believe that I’m not a participator because “I can’t get a date.” Psh, I’m of the firm belief that anyone can get a date and any idiot can have a boyfriend/girlfriend. Now, I can’t guarantee that boyfriend/girlfriend is quality merchandise, but partnering with someone is quite easy.

Dating someone or going on dates to me, truly isn’t appealing anymore. I feel like an older person and I’ve been there and done that. I’ve had my fun, I’ve had my horrendous break-ups, I’ve had my “please God, I hope he isn’t proposing…oh crap, he is” moment. I’m content to be a cat lady. And if I truly need some partnering time, I just live vicariously through others and their sordid dating lives or just spit in someone’s mouth.

However, last night I was at an estrogen heavy holiday party. It was estrogen heavy, because it was my alma maters (a woman’s college) local club holiday party. And since I’m rarely in the presence of women, were the discussion doesn’t lead to dating and/or significant others, I braced myself for the boredom/disgust that I knew would come when the dating topic was broached. Shockingly, I wasn’t bored/disgusted when the topic came up. Normally, I loathed these conversations, because I often feel like the quest to partner up is viewed as the end all, to be all, in life. But I realized the reason why I wasn’t seething, was no one chastised or questioned my reasons, on why I’m not dating. The fact that I made the choice to be content without a partner and focus on exploring better and truer friendships was accepted and rejoiced.

Last night, I felt like I was in the “Twilight Zone,” it was this world, were ones choice to step aside from the norm was appreciated and accepted. I rarely am able to say that I haven’t been on a date in some time, nor do I want to date and not get the pity look. Or receive the third degree, were my answers are never sufficient enough for the questioner. I was elated to be able to give my two cents here and there on meeting people and the art of flirting and be taken seriously. Oh, it was a great feeling and I hope to have more of them in the future, on the many other areas in my life that I don’t follow status quo.

What a year it has been?

Exactly a year ago, I walked out of my neurologist office with no new news about why my body was failing me, why my hair was falling out, why I always felt like crap and walked into the nearest hair salon and requested the stylist to cut/shave off my hair. I figured it would be a simple request, but it wasn’t. There I stood being pestered by the stylist and patrons in regards to cutting “my long beautiful hair, my lovely dreadlocks.” I was internally furious, I just needed this simple act to be done, but they were so insensitive. They needed to know why this woman, this black woman wanted her hair gone. They didn’t understand that I needed to be free of it, instead of watching it fall out little by little. I didn’t like waking up and seeing bits and pieces of my hair on my pillow, I didn’t like taking a shower and running my hands through my hair and seeing one dread after another come out.

Having ones hair fall out and ones body fail you is disheartening. For me, more so, because no one can provide me with an answer, to why I was going through all this drama. It was beyond belief frustrating and the last thing I needed was to explain to someone, why I wanted my hair gone. I should have just walked out of the salon and found another place. But once I got it in my mind, to accept that I was going to be fully free from hair; I just needed it done as quickly as possible. I didn’t want to have to find another salon or barbershop, since it already took me 15 minutes to find that wretched one. So after 5 minutes (which felt like hours) of questioning and me giving the same response, “I just need my hair cut off,” the stylist finally got down to business.

There I was sitting in the chair and the dreads were being cut free from my head. An odd thing occurred, I began to cry. It was so foreign to see and feel tears streak down my face. I’m a weird mix, when it comes to emotions - I have the ability to be emotional, but I rarely am, and rarely do I cry. And more so, I despise crying in public. To see me cry openly and by openly, I mean not huddle up and apologizing profusely to anyone in hearing distance for actually having a human moment is unusual. However, there I sat for the first time and cried openly – truly open, no apologies, no hiding my face, just open. This was no feat, because as I’m having my atypical human moment, I could hear the supposed whisperings of reasons for me getting my hair cut from the others in the salon. They ranged from the serious, of me having cancer, to the absurd (to me anyway), that my boyfriend left me and I needed a change. But, I did it, I cried openly as the last dread was cut off. I cried openly as the clippers made their first cut, I cried openly until the stylist was done and cleaning me up.

However, what I should have cried about is the hawt mess the stylist left me in. This fool made matters worse; he did cut off my hair, but left me with an uneven mess of short hair upon my head. I wanted to be bald (didn’t he understand the words coming out of my mouth), because that was where my journey of hair loss was apparently taking me, but I guess he couldn’t bring that upon himself or maybe he didn’t know how to make this happen. But I was emotionally spent and I needed to get out of that horrid space. So I paid and hailed the first taxi I saw and made my way home. I trekked up the two flights of stairs and once I hit the hallway of my apartment, I began to undress, leaving my clothing and shoes all over the place and made my way to the shower. I got the water as hot as possible and began to try to purge via a loofah and Cetaphil my anger, frustrations, and sadness away. But as with many struggles in life, one simple moment can’t erase the turmoil that you are experiencing.

After collecting myself as much as humanly possible after the day I had, I made my way out my apartment and into my neighborhood in search, of a place that could finish the process of the horror that the stylist left me with. I found a barbershop about 20 minutes later and proceeded to get my head shaved. This process was no delight either, because the entire place was trifling and the barber was an ass, but it got me what I wanted, a bald head.

In the end being bald hasn’t been so bad – I get weird looks at times and folks question me about why I’m bald. Some folks even have this insane need to run their hands over my head, like they are rubbing Buddha’s belly. But for the most part, I get a lot of compliments ranging from that suits you, to you’re so brave, to their stating, they wish they could pull off this look. Those moments help with the sting of not having hair and the pain of still being a hot mess of medical drama. But I've pushed through and here I am a year later, gloriously bald and celebrating this weekend like I wasn’t sick and enjoying every minute of it.

Why Blog?

I began Part 2 of Chronicles... because I wanted to find another space to use as a vehicle to rant and rave about the things in my world and the world that surrounds me. However, I spend so much time enjoying other bloggers thoughts that when I come back to my space to write I feel like all has been said.

So why blog?

I don't know but I'm going to take a moment and try to discover the answer for myself again.

FanFic makes me happy so I give back.

Some of my favorite fanfic authors are giving back by rallying together to get folks to donate to Alex's Lemonade Stand Foundation (ALSF). I'm a huge fan and supporter of ALSF. If you want to donate as well, go here.

Why me?

Why is it that 60% of the time I get food poisoning it is my own fault? First off, I'm not suppose to eat eggs but I was hella hungry so I broke and made some eggs. I totally forgot to do the floating egg test before making me some scrambled eggs and applesauce. So there I go, eating up bad eggs smothered in applesauce so I didn't notice until about an hour later when I'm blessing the porcelain god with my appalling offerings.

Note to self - never cook for yourself again.

Furious miss t.j. due to the lovely Joan Jett.

I'm walking down Broadway, running errands and in my lovely Bose headphones blaring clearing is Joan Jett and The Blackhearts "Fetish." Now I love Ms. Jett and I adore everything that she does but this song always gets me antsy - its the same with NIN's "Closer." I'm far from a prude but the songs are filled with angst, tension, and sex. It just gets to me. So I'm on edge as it is from the song and out of now where, this man the size of a mountain steps on the back of foot. My lovely Vans shoe comes flying off and I trip. My heart on automatic, begins to beat triple time and I can imagine myself hitting the pavement face first. However, by some miracle I didn't - I caught myself and trust, that is a miracle because I'm super clumsy. I couldn't believe I didn't fall but even in my surprise, I had the right of mind to look to my right and make eye contact with the mountain of the man. He looked at me and smirked with a bit of dismay at my inability to face plant on the sidewalk. And out of nowhere I growled at him - I mean, I really growled. A bit of my braced teeth showed and I was furious you could feel the angry roll off of me. Because, that motherfucker tried to trip me on purpose. I guess he felt I was too dorky to respond to his meanness and normally I would be. But in the end I came out ahead - he was so shocked by the growling, that he walked into pole.

So, I was the one who ended our Broadway tete-a-tete with a lovely smirk on my face sans the dismay.

Surely these aren't my accomplishments?

Life appears to be passing me by. The only thing I'm accomplishing these days are headaches, stomachaches, and a growing knowledge of all things Twilight Saga related. The first two things that are being accomplished are solely due to my incessant need to consume diary and gluten products. I'm willingly killing myself to please my cravings and my very unpolished palate.

I really need to get on the ball and start to make some serious life changes, but honestly, I'm lazy and cheap. Going diary and gluten free is expensive and time consuming. I'll need to really start reading labels and actually cook. However, when do I have time to cook when I'm reading countless blogs about Twilight, Robsten, Nonsten, I don't give a crapsten (my group), Taycob, funny letters to Twilight and Rob, and spending hours upon hours watching television. I guess I should also say I'm strapped for time because I'm studying all the time too, but that would be a VERY big lie. If I put as much energy that I do, into my Twilight obsession into taking care of myself and studying, I would be uber healthy and a friggin' genius.

So starting today, let's be real sometime in November, ugh, okay December, because New Moon comes out on the 11/20, I will make some serious life changes and direct my Twilight attention to taking care of myself and studying. Wait, if I hold off studying until December I'm going to flunk out - oh, what am I going to do? I don't think I can tear myself away from Twilight - I'm a huge FAIL!

Boring life and headaches.

It's not that I'm busy to blog, I'm just lazy and considerate. I have such a boring life that is filled with headaches that I didn't want to push my negative thoughts out there for 1 person out there to read about. Also, after a day of reading blog after blog devoted to "Twilight" and a smidgen of news I'm just too lazy to type about how lame my life is. I save those ramblings for my twitter account.

However, I'm making an effort to stop being a boring, lazy, unfocused individual and may just may have to some things to boast and rant about soon.

Hot man alert!!!

Oh, my goodness! Rarely do I find a man so hot that I become completely flustered. I'm leaving the caf and I nearly faint when I spy this tall, chocolate, wonderfully beautiful man. Perfect teeth, arms, legs, and face. I was so enamoured with this man that I tripped over my friend. Oh, please Lord let this man go to my school so I can drool over him so more!

How "New Moon" is always around.

After spending Friday night in Staten Island chugging Corona and Coors Light, stuffing my face with Denino's pizza and Ralph's ices I ventured back to the city bright and early on Saturday to stroll Central Park. Now in all of my time in NYC I've never just went to CP just to chill. I know it is so sad. Every time I've gone I've been on a mission - Shakes in the park, show the Bethesda fountain to friends, or cut through to get from the West side to the East.

But besides from getting super ill afterwards it was a blast. I had great company, made a lot of jokes, laughed a lot, learned that my attention span is getting worse every day I continue to exist, and ran across a young woman whose sole purpose at being at the Alice in Wonderland statue was Robert Pattinson had been there. I kid you not, she was wearing a New Moon shirt and stated to her father, "it's clear that I'm only here is because Robert Pattinson was here once." Then I saw her making out with the bench he put his foot on while fliming "Remember Me." I'm kidding - sort of.

Good times.

Doppelgänger

So I ran into my doppelgänger on the bus this morning. I hop on at Lex. and see a guy reading the book I'm reading currently (no biggie, it happens), then I realize we are wearing the same color scheme (no worries its NYC, we wear black & grey in the summer), then I see he is wearing the same messager bag as myself (getting weirder but there are other folks who own a CHROME camo mini.metro), but I started wigging out a little when I noticed him with the same noise canceling headphones. That is just one too many of the sames, but I'm hopping off the bus and I'll never have to see him again. Death is not knocking on my door today.

Wait, he gets off the bus with me and we are now heading in the same direction Uptown. Argh, I'll get rid of my doppelgänger and take the express train to dodge him - nope, when I finally get back on the local we are now standing across from one another. And to tempt fate a little more my doppelgänger gets off the same subway stop as myself and heads in the same direction. I'm not sure if we went to the same place because I refused to look around.

Death isn't coming I haven't made out with Will Demps yet!

Oh my, NKOTB, tears, and no Jesse

I'm still shaking from seeing New Kids on the Block at the Pearl in Vegas on July 11th. It was a small venue but the boys ahem, men really put on a show. There was all kinds of zexy being put on display and I loved it! And they are all super funny which makes me like them more.

Before the show we did the 5 Star VIP package put on by "ILoveAllAccess" - I mean if I wasn't meeting NKOTB for a brief moment I would be pissed off completely. ILoveAllAccess is an assbackwards organization. They are so poorly organized and mean which puts a damper on the festivities prior to meet and greet. However, having Donnie tell me, "I like your glasses" in that perfectly smooth and sexy voice follwed by a quick kiss on the cheek from him was well worth the craziness. It wasn't bad to also have perfectly tan with amazing skin Jon asked me my name and where I'm from. It is the simple things in life that can make me super happy.

Because the meet and greets are fast there is always DRAMA present. The ladies are a bit territorial and scary - I'm in the bathroom taking care of my lady business and these girls are going off on one another which lead to tears because this one didn't get to stand next to this New Kid - it was all too much. Then as we waited in the lobby to go into the venue girls are talking trash about one another. Now this wasn't my first meet and greet with the guys but I guess it was more noticable because the venue was so small and we were clusstered together like cattle so you couldn't really escape it.

However, I did meet some nice people and have some new folks to follow on Twitter - so now I have other venues to get info on the New Kids and a bit more Twilight news. The only sad portion of the evening was Jesse McCartney didn't perform which produced a small pout from these 30+ lips, but someone promised to send me vids of him performing elsewhere so I think all will work out in the end.

Twilight kiddies galore

One of the drawbacks benefits of working and going to school in an higher educational institution whose mission is to educate the world is I get to see kiddies all the time. But today I realized I have a little too much in common with the youth of today. That is a slight obsession with "Twilight" - the movies, the books, and the actors. Here I am shuffling to work dodging all kinds of young things left and right (they seem to own the world and don't particularly pay to much attention to where they are walking) and what am I spying here and there through the crowds: "Twilight" totes, buttons, and books. Yes, I know there are all kinds of adults addicted to "Twilight" but at that moment in the midst of a mini Twicon on Uptown Streets of NYC I felt really dumb silly. I rattled off all the things I own that are "Twilight" related: mini Bella and Edward, magnets, magazines, books, DVD, iPhone protectors (Team Edward & Team Jacob b/c I can't decide), and buttons. I guess I feel really silly because I can't explain why I like "Twilight" so much. I don't know if I'll ever be able to explain why I adore it so, but I'm going to see when I take a break soon and see if that mini Twicon is still going on and maybe just maybe be able to eavesdrop on a possible "Twilight" related conversation.

Black Card/Street Cred Challenged

Not only did I have the weekend from hell because my body must really hate being alive and/or my mind really likes lusting after not so bright (common sense wise) medical professionals but I had my black card/street cred challenged. Challenged by an individual who I honestly don't think has the right to do so, but what can I say he knew Aubrey Graham as the mix-tape master "Drake" when I still knew him as "Jimmy" from "Degrassi: The Next Generation." But back to point - my black card was suspended many moons ago in college when I was rockin' to NKOTB like they just dropped an album but I got it back and held onto it with dear life but now my black card/street cred has been challenged.

Why?

Here are facts, I wear something from Urban Outfitters, Alloy, Torrid, and/or Delias daily. I rock RayBan Wayfarer sunglasses as glasses. I own an insane amount of DC shoes which has replaced my daily MBT shoe wearing craze and more importantly I'm not a skater, nor will be or knows anyone who rides. I sport a Patagonia cadet cap daily. I use the terms "rock and sport." My bookbag has Hello Kitty buttons on it (maybe I need to check my age as well, because that can't be normal for 32 year olds). But the MAJOR offense is that I'm lusting after Robert Pattinson and I'm NOT ashamed of it. I'm not stalking him publicly or dry humping him like others - I keep my obession strictly Internet. My lust for RPattz dared him to write, "could you pelase lust after any other white fella? Black card, street cred challenged."

Now I wouldn't mind so much if the former facts were the major offenses for the challenge because there is some validity to it. But my like/lust for RPattz - seriously? It's not like I told him that I thought Jesse McCartney was dreamy and his album has been on repeat for 2 weeks on my iPhone - which by the way is true. Hee Hee!

The Victims

So finally for the first time I truly have the summer off - no school, no second job, just a plain 9-5 then loads of free time. So I hit up "Taco Night" to celebrate the 29th bday of my baby brother from another mother (and father), lusted a bit after a boy that is just to pretty for his own good, then slipped out around 10 PM to the Bowery Electric. Now I'm following the coolest folks I know which is always best for the dorky, clueless, and clumsy. It's for the best because I would've still been chugging Coors Light instead of catching a show of "The Victims." It was so cool to just hang with folks you love and then get to see legends perform. And perform they did - I am so jealous of the bassist skills and his electric blue chucks.

Old blog meet my new blog...

Many moons ago I had a blog on Earthlink titled "chronicles of a fat girl named miss t.j." - when I set up this new blog on blogger I titled it "confessions of a fat girl named miss t.j." because I was certain that was the name of my old blog. Well I was wrong which happens often. So old blog - http://home.earthlink.net/~connect2tjb/2005.07.01_arch.html meet my new home. New blog hopefully I'll treat you a little better than I did my old blog. Remember old blog it wasn't you it was me - I'm just not that great of a blogger and you are better off without me.