On Being A Lions Fan.

Shit's frustrating.

The end.

On Online Dating

Surprise!

I was not swept out to sea by Sandy, nor was I committed to the looney bin due to constant exposure to political commercials (#MyPresidentIsSTILLBlackAndNotALiarAndNotAJerkAndComesByHisTannedSkinNaturally). Nope, I've just been lazy working and didn't have shit to write about felt my time would be better spent trying not to get fired. Which I've succeeded at so far, so yay me!

But that's not why we're here today. Nay, we are here to discuss *drum roll pleeeeeeeeease* ONLINE DATING. I now have pointed observations on the subject due to my extensive (read: not quite one full month) foray into the area.

Yes, you read that correctly. Me. Online dating. Correct.

Here's the thing: I spend a lot of time bemoaning my love life. Which is kinda annoying. And sad. But mostly annoying. So I figure, I really can't justify complaining if I'm not actually doing anything to change the situation. And yes, I know all many of you have gently suggested variations of the same for many moons, but I really must reiterate the fact that at my core I'm a 643 pound woman who hasn't left her bed in 6 months and is on first name basis with every pizza/chinese/mexican/italian delivery boy in a thirty mile radius. What I'm saying is, girlfriend is lazy. So taking the time to make affirmative moves required way more effort than I was willing to expend. But I did, and it was good.

Kinda.

Good in that it's definitely making me put some effort into moisturizing my situation (!!!), but bad because oh good Lord. Without further ado, things important notes from my experience online dating:

1. Spelling and grammar are important. Indeed, they are paramount. When the first impression someone has of you are the words you write, it would probably be best if your opening sentence did not in any way resemble the following- "hi. Im a reel kool guy, jus loking four a nice yung ladie who under stands me. Ands a freeek!!"
2. You should probably not make your interest in sex the main highlight of your profile- "I love sex, and I'm real good at it. I'm real freaky so I hope you are too. As long as it's not the 3rd Saturday of the month, I'll have your ass bouncing off the walls (I've got my kids that day).
3. (Black) People really have kids hardcore by my age. I thought that might have been an urban myth, but I'm pretty sure online dating just burst me out the middle-class, college-educated bubble. Oops.
4. If you have 5 pictures, and all 5 of the pictures have other people in them, you're trying to hide your ugly. No exceptions.
5. Pictures all from the waist up? You're short. All from the chest up? You're fat. All camera phone selfies? Friendless. Undisputed. 
6. Job: "I'll tell you later" = unemployed; Education: "I'll tell you later" = high school dropout; Children: "I'll tell you later" = 4 kids, all aged 3.

I hope the preceding was useful. Now, excuse me while I go pay to do the type of internet flirting I could do for free on Black Twitter.

S.

Truth Time

I've gained back approximately 20 of the pounds I lost in 2011 since I started work.

I'm having skin issues for the first time in my life and my face looks like crap.

Lonely.

Tired of hearing myself say I'm lonely, tired of typing it out here, tired of worrying about it.

I live vicariously through romance novels.

I don't have a fair pair of jeans.

I don't have any outfit I can put on that makes me feel gorgeous.

I sit at home most weekend nights.

My mother is my most constant companion.

I feel like everyone is progressing in their lives except for me.

I miss DC.

I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up.

I hate that no matter how much I work out, if I don't eat perfectly I gain weight.

I hate that I already know I'll have to work out and eat blandly for the rest of my life or else I'll blow up like a balloon.

I wish I were funnier.

I do not know how to flirt.

I am sick of hearing myself whine.

I'm always surprised when my superiors tell em they think I'm good at my job.

I'm still waiting to go on a great adventure.

My mother unexpectedly cleaned my bedroom for me and she found absolutely nothing dirty, awkward, naughty, or scandalous. I don't know whether to be proud or ashamed.

My crazy is crazier than ever.

S.

Things I've Learned

1. Law school does not teach you how to be a lawyer. Maybe it teaches you how to think like a lawyer, but I could have went to paralegal school for that and saved $200,000. So, thanks for that, Georgetown. Much appreciated.

2. Law firms like to give you lots and lots of free alcohol and free (bad for you) food.

3. Lots of free alcohol + lots of free (bad for you) food = Lots of non-free shopping because you've gained too much weight to fit into your formerly "skinny" clothes. Damn it.

4. Do. Not. Piss. Off. The. Secretaries.

5. Running 3.1 miles is doable!

6. Running 3.1 miles with a blister is less doable.

7. Blister gel/cream preventer stuff does not work.

8. There are exactly 16 Black people in my firm. Total.

9. It's so easy to spend money when you've got money.

10. Don't ever take a job where you have to bill hours. Trust me on this.

11. It is totally appropriate to wear flat jeweled sandals to the club in June, and don't let anyone tell you differently.

12. Rooftop parties are fun.

13. Walking through an alley that smells like a schizophrenic homeless woman's underwear to get to said rooftop party is not fun.

14. The attractive, Black, cool, male lawyer is not totally an urban legend. If only I could remember his name...

15. As long as you look busy and type furiously, no one will bother you while you're on your computer at work. Even if you're blogging.

Happy Friday!

S.

P.S.- 16. Three day weekends should be mandatory.

Eff It.

You may not have noticed this, but I haven't written in a while.

It's not because I didn't want to write, because I did. I REALLY wanted to write. Desperately, actually. But the thing is, I wanted to write about my job. Which is bad, because blogging about your job could get fired. And seeing as how I'm not at all inclined to be poor again, I just didn't write. I made the executive decision that plugging my creative outlet was better than mistakenly writing something I shouldn't and getting called into HR.

Except, it's not. Not even a little bit.

So now I'm saying eff it. I'm going to write. I'm going to talk about my life, and my days, and what it feels like to be a real life full-fledged attorney. Cause I am. Like, legitimately.

I'm a rebel with a cause, I tell ya. Which is exactly why I just painted my nails the brightest neon pink known to man. Take that, stuffy old judicial system! I've got to be me, and I'm starting right now.

Back with a vengeance,

S.