I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW!!

There is someone in my life, or rather on the outskirts of my life, who I would like to forget. I want him to disappear, not literally, just figuratively. He can live a long and healthy life, but I want said life away from me. We have a history together. It is a toxic one that seems to make me either cringe or giggle. There was a time when I thought I loved him. Then I grew up. He is one of those individuals who pops up when you least expect it. His motive and purpose is unclear. What is clear is that he brings out my polar opposite extremes. I either feel totally comfortable in his presence, thinking this could be it. Or, my temples hurt from thinking about how much I cannot stand him.

He irks me in a special way that only a few have done previously. It is said that love and hate are virtually the same thing. That the phenomena of hate is that deep down there is love. Whatever the case, this week alone, I counted about three times where I had visions of kicking him in the face. Yes, me, the girl who does not fight, wants to judo-chop him into the fetus position. Why? Well I'm not sure. Maybe it's because when I'm perfecting minding my business, here he comes around the corner trying to stop my inevitable progress. Saying things like 'you're my soulmate', 'you never give me a chance' or my favorite, 'you hurt me when you said that'. Or could it be how we literally go around and around? Our 'relationship' is cyclical and oh, so predictable. It goes something like this: a call from nowhere, 'I was just thinking about my baby'. Then the 'let's grab something to eat, I know how much my baby likes to eat.' From there, we usually meet up for food (you know phat girls got to eat!). During the meal, when my senses are down, here comes the 'let's do it, let's just do it'. And then the, 'I miss you'. After that the, 'I know I've hurt you and I understand that, I'm sorry'. I can't forget the, 'I miss yo crazy ass! You're the only person that makes me laugh, you're so silly. MJ, I love you.' By then I'm all full and feeling the euphoria of a free meal, next thing I know, I'm actually considering it! Maybe if I can control my eating habits, this shit wouldn't happen!...something to consider. In the car, sitting outside of my building is where I get confronted with the awkward kiss attempt. If you could see my face right now...

Anyway, all of this brings me to last night. He had IM'd me on Facebook, 'hi'. I responded with attitude, 'yes?'. Then he logged off. I then commenced to writing him this long, irate and hostile, quite harsh Facebook message. After typing and proofreading it (there is never an excuse for bad grammar, spelling or punctuation), I deleted his name as the recipient and sent it to Antoine instead. His response, 'all I can say is you sound crazy. The first few lines are harsh. Delete it, don't send it.' My mind did not think it was that bad, but of course she's the one who wrote it. But something in my heart told me I could do better. I guess that's why before clicking send, I sent it to Antoine, not my intended target. I am well aware that at times my tongue and pen can be like a heat-seeking missile. I cannot remember the message verbatim, but I do know I accused him of being a psychopath, even providing a full definition in case he was unaware of what the word meant. I also dropped some well placed 'F-bombs' to emphasize my point. Plus, asking him how an 'asshole such as yourself would get rid of you?' Making the point that I wanted him to get ghost and leave me alone. The message started with 'what is your purpose?'

Anyway, I am glad I have the wisdom to get things off of my chest with a third party as opposed to saying what I really feel. Twenty-year-old MJ would have, at 30, well it just does not seem as important to put everybody that annoys the shit out of me in their place. In fact, I have become more creative in my need to rid myself of undesirables.

I will send this someone a text, letting him know about this post. He once said he wanted me to write something about him. Being the masochist that he is, I'm sure he knew it would be negative. I think that's part of the joy he gets in even contacting me. He knows we're not right for one another. He even finally verbally admitted it, as I have said before, I can do better and he is not good enough for me. But that just titillates and tickles his fancy even more.

So if YOU ARE reading this, welcome to my most inner thoughts. Sit down, have a seat, make yourself comfortable. Because this is the last time I will allow you to infiltrate my emotions, irk the hell out of me and overall lounge up in my head. Get real comfy. Wrap yourself up in a smurf-blue snuggie if you have to; this is your day. This is your moment. After this day. At the end of this last keystroke, you will cease to exist to me. Now go lunch on that!

A Little Milk For Your Coffee?

Last night, I finally did it. I finally signed up for Match.com. When I tell you I was nervous, while being excited at the same time, I am not even lying. I started with eHarmony, where I had previously completed a profile, but chickened out and did not pay for the service. When I went back to the site last night and completed the survey and profile questionnaire, I discovered that the fee for love was a bit too steep for my tastes. So I sauntered over to Match. It was there, that for a lot less, I created a profile.

I was so nervous. The picture alone had me second-guessing myself. What picture do I post? My hair is natural and I normally wear a nappy-funky 'fro. If not, twists. Do men like that? I may straighten it from time to time, if they like my hair natural, maybe they won't like it straight. What picture most accurately shows what I look like? I don't want to falsely advertise myself. I wanted to post a picture from Cancun that shows me from a distance kicking my leg; it was fun, flirty, but not overtly sexual. The Match system rejected it. I learned your profile picture has to be a facial close-up. Okay, I can respect that. The system instead chose a better picture from the few I had uploaded.

So, the picture is picked and I have completed my questionnaire. Now it's time for the 'matches' to start rolling in, right? I mean, I only have a month. Let's get this thing started! Match comes up with about twelve potential 'matches' soon after my profile was complete. When I saw who was chosen, the men that at least twice completely matched me, I almost screamed! With the exception of a few, they were all white! If Match is correct, my 'perfect match' is white, Jewish and/or Christian Catholic men between the ages of 29-42. What the hell!!?? The few brothas that were 'mutual matches' were all from Naperville and looked like the type who only date anything but Black women.

On the flip side, the men who's requirements I matched, most of them were brothas. But they were only 70% matches! What does that say about what I want in a man? I'm perfect for brothas, but not so much the other way around? Here I am always seeking brothas, but could the man that meets my needs be a nice Jewish boy from Lincoln Park? Have I been blocking my own blessings, because I can only imagine being with a certain package?

This comes on the heels of at least three friends suggesting I expand my 'search' and open myself up to men of other ethnic groups. Antoine, my best friend, has flat out said, he feels that's who I will most likely end up settling down with. It's hard to believe considering I feel like I'm so, fist in the air, afro-wearing soul sista with a '70s Blaxploitation edge. But I guess that's not what everyone else sees.

So I've had a couple of 'winks' and even chatted with a guy who's opening chat line was: 'are you into older white guys?' Ummm...now that you mention it...no. I will not respond to nonsense, and in an effort to ease my ego's concerns my initial reaction was to change my search requirements. Lighten up about the 'a few extra pounds' option. No, because my experience is, a few extra pounds starts to lean towards fat. I don't want that right now. The more I think about it, I'm not going to change at all. I will not lower my standards so that I can be Match.com popular. Or 'popular' even in 'real life.' I will be specific with my 'can't stands' or 'must haves'.

I'll keep you posted. But for now, I'm giving myself the option and permission to add a little cream in my coffee.