Should have been 42 years...

If my father were still alive today it would be my parents 42nd wedding anniversary. That is such a wonderful thing to me and precious at the same time. I wonder if I will make it to that point and I know part of that is my fault. I am just so darn particular when it comes to men. They always say a woman always looks for a man like her dad and I say in my case that is impossible. There could be no one else like my Dad. I was cleaning my room Monday night, I took the things off of my dresser, cleaned them and put them back. I looked at the small glass vase that is now empty and I wonder if there will ever be a flower in it again. On Valentine's day, my Dad used to put a single rose in that vase. One year, I think I was in 10th grade he started giving me silk roses. I never needed the real thing, they just shriveled up and died anyway. My father was always practical he hated giving things you couldn't use more than once.

Every June when there is an epidemic of weddings I do two thing; I gag at all the cheesy weddings I have to attend or I put the cart before the horse. I think about what kind of wedding I want but I can't find a guy that I would even think about marrying. The wedding is easy to think about because its fun and it appeals to every girly sense I have. The man however is not easy. When I think of him, I think of a man that is like me. Since I am rapidly approaching 27 I know that is not possible. Another reason why I've been thinking about my wedding is my Mother. Now I love her with my entire being but she is driving me a little nutty. We are hosting a baby shower for my aunt and uncle and we are arguing very petty things. If we can't get through a shower without argument how would we get through planning a wedding? A few weeks ago, as I was returning home from a wedding in Syracuse I was on the phone with Shauna describing the wedding, bride bride bride blah blah blah.... The woman sitting next to me started telling me about her family and how she was returning home because her mother just passed away. I listened and I sympathized since I do know that feeling of losing a parent. Then she changes subjects on me and tells me I need to sit down and write down all the qualities I want in a man. At this point the train pulled into Penn Station she says goodbye and, "Congratulations on your engagement." I'm like I'm not getting married. She smiled and then walked away.

Now I'm thinking to myself what kind of happy pill is she on and do they sell it over the counter?

I keep hearing write the type of man you want and that is something I've never done. So I will give a list. I cannot write down the qualities of the man I want to marry because I'm not ready to get married yet. The man in my life right now does not have to be perfect because I certainly am not and I know I will never be. But the man I want in my life has to be working towards something. Okay now this is not a complete list. I'm only listing the things that immediately come to mind because those should be the most important. The other things are just extra.

1. Intelligent
2. Loyal
3. Spiritual but not overly religious and Catholic
4. Independent
5. Believes in Family

Now for my list those things are very important. I can't be in a relationship with a man that I cannot talk to. What do we have if there is no loyalty if you are not on my side. Catholicism is very important to me. No I don't go to Church every Sunday but I do love the Lord. God has brought me through many difficult situations. I need a man that is independent the man in my life has to at least know how to take care of himself. In 2006, when I'm cutting the lawn and let's say I have a problem with the mower I can't go to any man my age for help. You don't have to cut the lawn but at least know how it works and make an attempt to fix it. This has nothing to do with some jobs mans work and some jobs being womans work. I don't cut the lawn because I want to but because I have to. You have to want a family. I feel as a mother I would have a lot to give. If the Lord does not bless me with my own children I will find a child somewhere that needs a home.

Is that too much to ask? I guess if it is then I shall be single for life.

Ahhh....

Last few weeks I've had so much on my mind. Hell I still do. Some things don't belong out in the world wide web. It was nice to just write.

You can find me in the club, bottle full of bub

Saturday night I went to a party. What is so strange about that you may ask yourself? This was no ordinary party, it was at a club and it was 18 to party 21 to drink. I can’t remember the last time I went to a party that allowed 18 year olds. Wait no that is a lie it was in Albany. Friday nights at this one particular (the name escapes me now) Albany hotspot was 21 and over. Jessica (my old roommate) and I loved it. The place was never overcrowded, no nasty looks from 18 year old girls (oh she must think she fly cause she got good hair – no lie I’ve heard that before) and no young boys coppin a feel while they danced with you. I remember the night that party turned 18 and over very well, because it was the last I went to a party that was 18 and up. If the flyer said that I wasn’t going

How you know a club that allows 18 year olds

• The line is long as hell.
• The cover is usually more than $10
• You give the bouncer your id and who looks at you like "What you don’t have friends your age to hang out with?"
• When you walk into the club a man not only says excuse but feels the need to put his arms on your waist to physically move you
• The club is so crowded that you have no chance of "meeting up" with friends who either arrived early or are running late
• You leave the club dripping in your own sweat.
• You get a special bracelet that alerts the bartenders that you are over 21 and able to drink
• You have at least one underage person during the course of the night beg you to buy them a drink.

If I can think of more I will edit this blog to reflect them. If you can think of more please don’t hesitate to reply and I will add them. Back to my last night in the club story Jess and I went it was everything I knew it to be. I can say I was about 23 years old at the time. The final straw was when Jess and I were sitting (yes we were two of the lucky ones to find a seat) and a strange white man came up to us asked to see our id. We produced our ids for the strange white man and then I said to him now let me see your id. After giving me the nastiest look he showed me his police badge. I’m thinking how dare you give me a nasty look, N*&#a I don’t know you but now you know my name and where I live. That was it from that point on I haven’t been to an 18 and up party. I figured I’m way too old for this shit. The older I became the less patience I began to have with clubs in general. I thought my club days were over and I was just turning into my parents. But even though I am getting older I am not the old fuddy duddy I made myself out to be. (I realize use of the phrase "fuddy duddy" does make me out to be an old person?"

This past Saturday everything happened as I thought it would. I attended the party because it was #1 for charity and #2 it was going to give me an opportunity to connect with some friends from school (Stony Brook). I avoided the long line because the 20 year olds I was traveling with were afraid of traffic and other numerous things that 20 year olds think about. (I’m not mad though I was 20 once myself). We arrived at the spot around 11:45 pm, paid our $12 advanced cover fee, went inside and it was pretty dead. (I’ve been to Prince Hall Mason parties that were more crowded than that) Oh of course at the door the bouncer was nice enough to write a huge W on my hand with a sharpie to inform the bartenders that I am of drinking age I immediately get on the phone and order Dariel (Johnny Gill in the New Edition tribute band) to go to his computer and find a restaurant downtown that was still open at midnight and cheap. After about 15 minutes of trying to yell over the music I told Dariel stay by the phone I will call him back. At this time more people started to arrive, ran into some more friends from Stony Brook and my friends and I breathed a sigh of relief.

The good thing about arriving to the club early when you are too old to be there is seating. My friends and I were able to secure a seat early and it gave us a decent view of the dance floor. I fully expected to go in and be out of the touch with the music but I highly underestimated how much. The first hour of music play the only song I recognized was "Shake that Laffy Taffy". Of course all of the music played sounded very similar to that song. I still can’t identify some of the shit they called music. About an hour into the party the gods threw me a bone and the dj said, "Let’s take it back to the old school!" I heard the familiar bass beat of Bell Biv DeVoe’s Poison and was elated. Of course I head to the dance floor and I ran into Mercella who at 23 was just as excited to hear BBD as I. 23 is a good age for being at the club, you are starting to appreciate old music but you’re still up to date with what is current. After that they played Slick Rick then they went into Biggie Smalls. Why did one of my 20 year old friends call Biggie Small’s Get Money whack? It was shock! Major disbelief! I wanted to hold my chest like Fred Sanford and yell "I’m coming to meet you Elizabeth!!!" "This is the big one!!!" Who would disrespect one the greatest rappers ever? Someone that was not in high school from 1994 – 1996 would not understand the importance of the Notorious B.I.G.

After the very short old school set they went into some reggae that I enjoyed and then back to the hip hop I couldn’t understand. At this point my friends wanted to leave and I was grateful. I swear I lost pigmentation from sweating so much. I would love to know who coined the term sweat the black off because I did that night. I mean I did when I came home that night the handle for my white purse was a shade of brown very close to my own.

I have made this entry long enough. I will address two other issues: underage drinking (which I never participate in or encourage) and meeting men in the club at a late time. There are more pressing things going on now. BET awards of course.