So...umm...tell me why again?

Why?

Why write a blog chronicling the non-existent love life of a late 20-something year old Black woman?

Why tell about never being in any sort of a relationship, or never having been kissed or asked on a proper date?

WHY?

Because Hollywood doesn't know we exist, and neither does the Black cinema king Tyler Perry. In both of these worlds, everyone has sex, all the time if possible.

And if you don't then you really, really want to, or are either a spinster or a man hating, fire breathing, penis envying, spiteful woman.

Right, well that's a mouthful, and mine is empty so it ain't me they're describing. And as such, I feel that my unique story needs to be told, properly.
I feel that there's something to be said about a woman who feels justified in her existence because her Father loves her unconditionally. I mean I haven't always been this way, and I shall have plenty of weaker moments in the future, but that is where the fun comes in......for you...not me, definitely no fun for me..

To begin, I am a G.R.I.T.S., born and raised in the South. Where,exactly is none of YOUR business LOL...JK...wait...no I'm not.

Anyway I love everything about my heritage, both as a Southerner and as a Black woman. Sure, there are bumps and scrapes along the way, you know like slavery and Jim Crow, but the strongest survive those times. And I fully believe I am here because I am standing on my ancestors' strong shoulders..

My parents raised me as a Judeo-Christian. In fact this same religion was considered to be a cult by the U.S. Government. Fun times :-). No really it was.

I went to church on Saturdays, ate no pork or shellfish, and kept every Old Testament Celebration described in Exodus. I was a Black Jew who believed Jesus was my Lord and Savior...I was a Black who didn't eat barbecue, ribs, fried catfish, bacon, or ham. Those were THE sad times LOL.

I was a loner throughout my Middle School years, having friends but never truly opening up enough to have true friends. Instead I use to watch the interactions of my peers from a close proximity, and observe how backstabbing and untrustworthy most kids were. Now my loner status came not by choice, but by unfortunate happenstance of going natural, by force, in a very anti-natural hair time period.

So I kept my distance and vowed to never be like everyone else, which meant when Tacky Day came around, I was wearing our school colors...and matching, and when School Color Day came around...you get the picture. I was a Grade A pain to all  who wanted to fit in.

In other words, I was used to being different by the time I got to High-School. I needed and desired no one's acceptance, while secretly wanting everyone's acceptance. But most importantly I wanted everyone's respect.

This can be seen best when in the 8th grade after moving from my Magnet Middle School to the mixed,  Magnet and Resident High-School. I played basketball on our school's 8th grade team in the Fall, and in the Spring, was invited by some friends to work with the football team as a water-girl. I did both in my own ode to being the anti-girly girl.

I threw the ball hard, and played defense hard. I rebounded hard, and basically was Dennis Rodman on the court. I even had that nickname for a long time...I just couldn't quite figure whether to be honored or disturbed by it...

Anyways with football, I had a completely different challenge. I didn't want any guy getting any screwed up ideas as to why I, this hard basketball playing, never wear a skirt, tom-boy, was helping them out with water duties of all things. So I kept my head down, spoke only when necessary, and went about my business.

I had been curious for a while as to the goings-on in the foreign world of football, but would never have been bold enough to actually watch a practice without some friends from middle school asking me to help them out that fateful day.

The thrill of being out there was immeasurable. And it had nothing to do with the well toned, muscular young men wearing tights and bending over in front of me all of the time. Nor did it have anything to do with these same muscular young guys walking around with little more than tights and cleats on when they took their water breaks.

After all not everyone looked like this....this was High School after all. Most of the guys were waiting on their growth spurts to hit them.

So my true reason for loving it out there had everything to do with the fact that for the first time in my life I felt needed, and truly wanted. I felt like my service was unique, which in fact it was, because as water girls that first year, we could be divided into three groups:

1)Those who were out there to flirt with the older boys/starters,

2)Those who wished they were bold enough to flirt with the older boys/starters

3)Those who enjoyed being needed and enjoyed drama aka knowing everyone's business

4)And me...I flirted with No ONE, and cared about No One's business

 Group1, consisted of the boldest females of the group of water-girls. And so those starters, and better looking upperclassmen got plenty of water at every water break. 

The second group consisted of those who wished for the balls ...not literally, to be in Group1, and so they mostly complained about Group1 always and only giving water to the more desired on the team. Group2  would end up aiming a bit lower to try and catch the eye of a second string guy. 

The third group mostly enjoyed stirring up mess between Group1 and Group2. Or at the very least, of testing the patience of everyone out on the field by getting into everyone's business. Those in Group3 did work when they felt like it..."Anyone up for a coffee break?"

Which left me, in a group all by myself. I liked to treat each player the same and try and get water to those players who weren't at the center of anyone's amorous attention, or at the center of drama.

I ate it up, and succeeded each day in that task....I think. In any case I succeeded so well that by the time the banquet rolled around the following year, I was one of the few girls who didn't get booed, by the team, when I got my award from the head-coach.

Where one finds success, one typically stays on. And so I did as well. I was the manager or student athletic trainer for Varsity Football, Varsity boys and girls Basketball, Track, Soccer at times, and Baseball. I always stayed after school, and I had a purpose.

Because of my purpose I was inadvertently around the popular guys(athletes) a lot.This led to my being associated with them and their girlfriends. After this came their friends and somehow, this led to my own popularity.

Trust, it was nothing I did personally, I was not pretty, nor did I dress nice or roll with the 'in' crowd. Everyone knew who I was because of my position with the teams. So much so, that years later I've had older kids swear to me that they thought I was in their class LOL...good times.

By my Senior Year, it felt like I was the Queen of my school. Well... I was in fact. 

You see, my penchant for never being in drama, treating everyone the same, and working my butt off, got me crowned as Homecoming Queen. Then I was given the Class Spirit Award, and I felt truly accepted and loved for who I was by my peers.

So my lesson learned from High School?

Having a guy's respect is so much better than having his eye. And his respect can be fostered even if I look a hot mess everyday...over time.

Problem with my lesson learned from high School?

When do we ever get the amount of time needed to earn a guy's....an awesome guy's respect now-a-days?

Further hiccups?

Regular guys just don't cut the mustard anymore for me.

After being around guys who are willing to play with broken wrists, ribs, collar-bones, and shins, I can't go back to...whatever else there is. Athletes, all of them...not poker or pool or bowling, but real athletes are addictive, they inspire with their bloody socks and uniforms. I feel honored to know guys who after rolling off the field because of cramps in both calves, limp on the field for a down if their team needs them, only to roll back off the field for further help.

Never done that, never played hurt in HS or College...we can be friends....but my heart is not in it.

And so my love for these athletic men, begins...and their love for...yeah well, the simple answer is not me (most of the time LOL),  is where all the fun, games and stories lay.

Remember I am still a virgin, so ain't none of that going on :-).