It's been a long while since I blogged--- about 4 months actually. And I could easily contribute my hiatus to being busy or the holidays getting me caught up, yada, yada, yada... But if I were to be completely upfront and honest, my little intermission was essentially due to not having one single upbeat and flirty idea to talk about. In reality, my 30, flirty so fabulous single life had hit an all time low.
I usually have some funny and heartening story to share to bring in the much anticipated weekends... But instead of my usual SP's-single-girl-playbook-strategies and the optimistic pledges-to-say -"I do"-to-singlehood commentaries, I was coming up with titles like "How to Stay Sober When You Know Your Life Sucks" or "Misery in the "A"... The "A" can kick rocks!" (The way I'm feeling, these titles may still make the rotation, LOL.)
It's really been a sad state of affairs. First, "bad" started when I had a string of uninspiring dates. "Worse" happened when I realized that I hadn't had sex in several months and guess what everybody??? --- I really didn't care (seriously, has anyone seen my mojo?). Then my single fabulous self took a nose dive when my gyne looked panicked-stricken when I told him I was 30 (plus some) and hadn't had a baby and there's no one in my life to GET me pregnant. My gyne looked at me as if I was a dating underachiever and quickly prescribed me some "relations" for the new year (Yes, he actually said "relations"). The final call was when I caught myself telling an ex-beau a half-truth that I was seeing someone fabulous, when all I was seeing was my future single self drowning in a sea of tragic statistics-- 1.8 million more black women than men; Elimiate the gay, the married, the already dated, the non-commital types, this leaves me with about 2, that's right 2 men that are preferrable to date.
Not like I haven't had a period of single life ho-hums, but for some reason this time I was lost. I wasn't so sure if I had the kind of bounce back of my 20's where you can shake off the bad dates, break open your "case of emergency, shag in the glass", leave the heartbreaks behind, and pull out the freak 'em dress on a Thursday night to catch a few new boos. When you turn the 30 curve, 90% of dates are bad, shag in a glass is married (although still calling... WTH???), heartbreaks hurt worse, and freak 'em dresses look desperate and frankly, you gotta get up for the a.m. work roll call--on time-- because your bills are real... I couldn't bear to myself that my feisty single idealisms of my 20s had converted into peevish cynicism in my 30s.
But during this trek, I have come to understand this whole single thing... Sometimes the ride is amazing, great friends, a sense of freedom, and anticipation of what is to come. But sometimes it sucks. Freedom feels like I'm without direction, there is nothing in the foreseeable future to anticipate, and in truth it just gets lonely sometimes where a girlfriend won't do. But, with each new day brings... who am I kidding? No happy wrap up here. When you come to a certain age, it just takes too much energy to make the bullisht up and truthfully... it's my blog and I can stay cynically peevish if I want to. :) --SP
Nine
7 years ago
