Shellybird's First Time...

NOOOOO...Not THAT first time. I'm referring to the first time in my life I ever felt anger towards my parents for not getting married, which would have made an honest baby out of me, instead of the resulting fatherless daughter who's grown into a middle aged woman with SERIOUS daddy issues. The anger surfaced on April 26, 2013. If you've been following this blog, then you know I have a sorta-kinda-almost boyfriend. (If you haven't been following, here's the link so you can catch up: http://shellybirdsnest.blogspot.com/2013/04/aw-lawd-jesus-why-aint-i-got-no-man.html I'm not typing all of that again.) Anyways, "Daniel", my almost boyfriend, and I have made plans to meet in person in the midway point of the 200+ miles that separate us. We've been "talking"--do people still say that?--for over a month. Mind you, I am a hoarder of chats, voice mails, and text messages. (Let's see A&E make a show about THAT.) I can give you a day-by-day itemized account of when things were euphoric and new between us to now, when it seems like it's going South...and I do mean cotton pickin' South.The daily texts that would start during his morning commute into the city have become sporadic mid morning,  lunchtime, or late afternoon texts. On the date in question, if I didn't finally break down and text him at 5:30, we probably wouldn't have communicated at all. Here's the convo:

Me: I missed talking to you today.
Daniel: Me too let's talk tomorrow

What in THE hell?!?!?!?!?!!!!!! I felt so...blown off.
Needless to say, I cried.My face stung like he'd slapped me and called me a bitch. I admit that I'm horrified of losing this thing we have, that has given me my raison d'etre over the past 6 weeks. He made me feel special, and I've never had that before. I've mentioned that he approached me FIRST via my Facebook in box. The conversations that we had, whether it was chat or text, were rapid fire with a lot of "Hey, baby" (or beautiful, or sexy). There were random texts in the middle of the day telling me he missed me. As I type this, I haven't heard from him ALL DAY. My good old reasonable mommy keeps telling me that I "never know what may be going on in his life." Of course, she's right. He's divorced and co-parenting a 7-year-old, he's also a busy professional.  Last week was hell week for him on his job. Be that as it MAY,  Shellybird has been officially SPOILED by the attention I've received from him over the past several weeks. I did not tell him to shower me with sweet talk.  I did not tell him to miss me or say he did. That was all on him. I am a woman who was never anyone's princess, never a "Daddy's girl." Now, all of a sudden, my hard won princess rug has been snatched from under my feet?!

Welp, no tears today. I am gradually forming the (good) habit of not picking up my cell every 10 minutes to see if he sent me a text that I may have missed. Who knows? Maybe tomorrow things will be back to "normal," whatever that is. Wait, who am I kidding? I know what normal is for me: SHELLYBIRD SPOILAGE, and I want some NOW.*


*I know I'm being unreasonable...I KNOW. That's why I'm ranting in my blog instead of calling Daniel and giving him the business.

Shellybird Shortpost: JESUS QUARTER!!!!

My mommy is old school. What choice does she have? She'll be 74 in a few months. Anyways, she saves coins, like most folks do--craptastic economic times, you know. However she gives those fancy coin rolling machines and the Coinstar the bypass and rolls her change by hand. Then she has her only (surviving) child write her name and address on the ROLLS for her when she's done--never on the wrapper while it's still flat. O_o

Anyways, last week she was going through her change and found a quarter with "JESUS" imprinted on it, like someone at the mint did it. She said, "Oh Shellybird, look!" We ruminated for a while on how it could have gotten there, discussed the religious significance of it and then she reluctantly added it to the roll. She looked so sad, and I told her she should hang on to it because it was special. Unless, of course, I find out it's worth millions of dollars, or even only a few hundred thousand.  If THAT'S the case, she can kiss the JESUS quarter goodbye.  We're supposed to have Him in my our hearts anyway.

Oh, and I'm just going to gloss over the fact that Mommy found a JESUS quarter out of the blue, and I've been looking for his likeness in breakfast toast for years.

Aw Lawd Jesus, why ain't I got no man?!?!?! Wait, I kinda do...

I did not plan to do one of those "Aw Lawd Jesus, why ain't I got no man?!" posts. However, since this blog is primarily about Shellybird--and that's ME, REMEMBER?!--and the desire for a husband and children (IN THAT ORDER) is so very deep in my heart, I will give this topic a little time.

When I was a teen, I had my life mapped out: After a successful career as a supermodel,  I would slow down, if not retire, get married and have 5 babies...yep, have it all in the can by age 30 *boom*. Fast forward 20-some odd years later. I didn't become a supermodel, although I still have aspirations.* I've had 2 or 3 boyfriends. I was even engaged once, but if I'd married that dude, our story would have been a Lifetime movie with Gabrielle Union playing me. (SILENCE! You don't know what I look like!) So, here I am, new-30 years old, with no wedding ring, and nooooo babbies.

During my yearly um...feminine exam in January, my GYN asked me what was I planning to do in regards to having children. (I guess he could hear the ticking of my clock; I know I can.) I told him I was holding out for Mr. Right because I DO NOT want to have children out of wedlock. Granted, that's how I got here, so I certainly don't look down my nose, but my even my mom doesn't want that for her grandchildren-to-be. Anyways, Doc suggested sperm banks as my reproductive time winds down, or if I was REALLY on my ear to go the traditional route, try meeting men online, via dating sites or Facebook. Welp, oooookay...

I'm a black woman who does the interracial dating thing. I've always been the type of person who loves to be around people of all races and cultures, even when it comes to my romantic life. In college, my friends called me "The International Lover," because I had a relationship with a Kenyan who was my first true love/heartbreak--after it ended, it took me years to be able to think about him without crying...years. There were mini-relationships with a white guy, a Mexican, and a Lebanese. (Mini-relationships=relationships that didn't get past kissing with no declaration of love or indication of exclusivity.) Back in October, I started joining AMBW (Asian Men/Black Women) groups on FB because in my small town, I don't encounter many Asian men and I wanted to explore that. That's how I met my "friend."** I found a message in my "other messages" box on Facebook that he sent me back in January. I'd never checked other messages before, didn't even know they existed. I sent him a message apologizing for not responding sooner, and the rest is history. He approached me first, and that's important to me because I hate feeling like I chased a man down. We've been talking for a few weeks and plan to meet up soon--in a safe location of course, cause a sistah ain't got time to wind up dead in nobody's crawlspace. Now, I know the 3 of you reading this are thinking, "Just cause y'all been texting for a few weeks don't make him your man!" Whatevs. There's definitely a connection, and nothing beats the euphoria of feeling relevant, feeling like someone other than your mama gives a damn if you live or die. When he's commuting to work, he sends me a good morning text, "Hey, beautiful," or something like that, not to mention all the texts throughout the day. He makes me smile; I make him smile. It's all gravy. A relationship's gotta start somewhere, right? RIGHT?!

So there you have it--not that you asked for it--my one and only "Aw Lawd Jesus, why ain't I got no man?!" post...I hope.

*My dream of being a model will be taken up in another post.

** In many AMBW groups, the administrators let you know from the jump that their group isn't a dating site and shouldn't be used as such, but I suppose this is what happens when you get a bunch of random humans together...