no fire

So, I was walking around on the roof of a school today, realizing that the reason that I'm so short is probably b/c I am afraid of heights. Being up there wasn't the problem...the ladder propped up there was the problem. And then when I asked a janitor where the basement was, he kindly pointed me in the direction of a crawl space. I took one look at the piping and realized that in order for me to find what I was looking for, I would have to slither around on my back with this small flash light (probably in my mouth). Hell to the naw. I told buddy that he could close that accessway right on up, b/c I wasn't going in. One rat or the litter of some creature decides to crawl on top of me and this school is getting to' down! And this is when I realized...this is certainly not my calling. I don't normally play the prissy role, but I am too cute to have my head all buried in dirt...plus, I'm trying to hold on to my bun for the next 2 days before I relax my hair this weekend and I refuse to look like "who shot John" tomorrow and Friday.

I was doing this site visit with Jesse's friend, (let's call him) John. When we were having lunch, this dude kept randomly bringing him up, so I could gauge from the conversation that he didn't know that Jesse and I briefly dated. John was talking about wanting a girlfriend but his track record was a lot worse than mine. And as we were discussing the qualities that one should look for in a mate, he started talkin' 'bout how Jesse constantly goes out and meets women in bars. I immediately started to feel nauseous. He went on to describe the kind of women that Jesse dates and the whole time I'm thinking, "Can he see just how uncomfortable I am?" "These women sound nothing like me." "And since they aren't anything like me, why was he playing the stalker role at work?" (That particular story is not even worth rehashing here b/c...well, just because.) That convo really didn't help my rooftop and crawl space experience as far as assessing my passion for my job.

Change of subject...

My boy, Navy, bought our tickets for this play that we're going to see in DC. Now, this all came about b/c Mack emailed me and told me that he will be in DC up until the beginning of April. And when I found out that he was in a play, I thought that it would be a good idea to go and see him live and in person. Since my January trip to NY didn't work out, this was as good of a time as any to be reunited. But uh...why is this dude playing me like a groupie?! All he does is email me; yet, he insinuated that I could stay the night with him when I got up there. I called up Navy and told him that I am so put off by men and their expectations. I worked out my "crashing" arrangements with Navy and then emailed Mack back and told him my plans and if he wanted to hang, then he'd have to call me. This dude emails me back and says that I should hit him up backstage after the show.

God, I just don't understand. Maybe he has gotten too famous for me and actually picking up the phone to call lil ole me is beneath him. Maybe between now and January, he scored a girlfriend. Who knows? And at this point, I don't even care...not even enough to b*tch about it via email. I have really gone soft on the email arguing and lately, I have been so short on my emails with people that I don't know if they truly know where my head is at. I have no fire for foolishness...and I don't give a hot damn who you are. But I know one thing, I plan to be on my A-game that night. Navy and I may do some clubbin' with his friends after the show, since one of his boy's birthday is the day before. I may see Mack and then again, I may not...but SOMEBODY is going to wonder why my fly a$$ is walkin' around unattached.

And considering the state of my relationships with the men that are hovering over the border of my life, unattached is just fine by me.