January 23, 2004 :: Strike Three, You're Out!!!

Rainmayun, are you still giving those women until the third date to pay before you dump them (if she don't pay by number three, there won't be a number four)? Hey, rules are rules but can a lady at least get a warning? When you cut off the newest flavor of the month, make sure you tell her that she committed the third and final violation and she is banished from Rain World forever!

-Crystal aka UptownBrownGirl

posted by Crystal at 8:56 PM -

January 19, 2004 :: Ramblings

In the style of The Sports Guy from ESPN's Page 2, I'm just going to write about a bunch of random stuff in one post.

It's been said... you can take the boy out of the ghetto, but you can't take the ghetto out of the boy. Or, similarly, you can take the girl out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the girl. I was at a wake for my great-grandmother this past week. It was the first wake I had ever been to, and I didn't quite know what to expect. My family usually doesn't do wakes. I am 100% sure I didn't expect my stepmother to start taking pictures of the body as it lay in state in the open casket, and I definitely didn't expect my uncle to pull out his videocamera and start filming the people in the pews. I tried to crawl under the pew, pretend I didn't know these people and they weren't family... but they are. These are, ostensibly, people who have been educated beyond such foolish indiscretions. My uncle is a physician, even. But this is just further proof of the maxims above. And they are my family, I can't ditch them no matter how hard I try. Maybe I should just disappear into the jungles of Costa Rica like my other uncle.

Oh, I almost forgot... the one thing my family is consistent about is harassing me to go back to school for a Ph.D. (or to become an "internet lawyer", which is my dad's latest recommendation). I did my best to tune them out.

I'm a relatively laissez-faire guy when it comes to first dates. I don't usually have a lot of expectations, because anything can happen. Another principle that goes along with that is trying to limit the spending on such affairs, because the risk of catastrophe is so high. If you want further commentary on my dating spending habits and expectations, go talk to the uptown brown girl.. I had a couple of, um..... shall we say... interesting dating experiences this weekend.

I took one particular lady to a Rachelle Ferrell concert. We had never been on a date before, and ordinarily I wouldn't have opted for such an expensive first date, but I really didn't have anyone else I would have preferred to take, so she was the default choice. Now... I say my expectations aren't too high, but if you really enjoy yourself, and I spend - I don't even want to say how much I spent on that night - is it too much to ask for a hug in thanks as you speed away into the night? Yet it seems clear that this woman is at least interested in spending more time with me, and she doesn't seem to be all about what she can get out of me (although I admit that particular circuit might be miscalibrated). So maybe she is yet another in a string of women with an odd sense of intimacy. That same night, she launched a detailed discussion of the collection of sexual toys she's bought (while we were waiting in line for the concert, which happened to place us in front of a "toy" store). Obviously she feels some level of comfort... or maybe she has no sense of discretion. Actually, I'm leaning toward the latter. We'll see where this goes... there are other major issues looming ahead of us anyway. She's not helping me with my new year's resolution.

Then there was this other date... which was really a non-date, since it was a blind date that was set up by the girlfriend of a friend of mine in Boston with the explicit premise that it not be a date of any sort, we would just be hanging out. This woman was just visiting D.C. for a couple of days from Boston. She is thinking about relocating here, but is not terribly familiar with the town, so I agreed to show her some of the D.C. nightlife. Previously, we had spoken on the phone, and I could see she is a tough nut to crack. Not terribly expressive, although intelligent and somewhat interesting. She doesn't react much to anything conversational, and in fact it felt like I was babbling on at times, because if I didn't, she wouldn't say much. It was apparently her intent to have me tell stories all night, and she was particularly interested in bad-date tales. So I indulged her with a few, yet how does one do this all night? She only had one story to tell me, claiming that she didn't date enough to have stories to tell. It was a most bizarre evening... ordinarily, I would have chalked it up as a loss, because if a woman has nothing to say, then she's obviously not interested. Yet, with her, it was different... maybe her mode of interaction is limited to listening, maybe she just doesn't open up to people quickly, maybe she's just effin crazy, I don't know. I do know she seemed to enjoy herself, and despite the fact that she lives in Boston, she did leave the open invitation to continue communication with her. But then, she didn't return my phone call yesterday, which she should have received after returning home. Oh well.

Followup: Nickel-plated Susie is wondering when we are going to go out again. She seemed to have little appreciation for the fact that I had no time to spend with her this past four days, due to having a wake and funeral to attend, plus having 6 guests staying in my home. She frightens me....

posted by Rainmayun at 12:18 PM -

January 14, 2004 :: I voted for Al Sharpton yesterday...

and I am not ashamed! The situation here in the District of Columbia, if you weren't already aware:

1) The DC City Council decides it would be a good idea to move the DC presidential primary up on the calendar to be the first in the nation, so as to draw attention to the lack of congressional representation.

2) This pisses off a lot of people, including the Democratic National Party, for fear of pissing off Iowa and New Hampshire voters, whose God-given right to vote first was secured in the Hammurabi Code 4000 years ago.

3) The DNC strongarms the DC Democratic Party into making the primary election non-binding. Most of the major candidates aren't even on the ballot, only Dean and Sharpton, and of the two, only Sharpton actually campaigned in D.C.

4) I voted in the election on Tuesday.

5) On the following Friday, I received my D.C. Board of Elections and Ethics Official Voter's Guide.

6) On February 14th, I will crash the DC Democratic Party's caucus, in which they will select the delegates to the national convention who should have been selected as a result of the election. All you single and bitter people, watch for me being arrested on the evening news.

posted by Rainmayun at 5:49 PM -

January 12, 2004 :: For better use of civilized society

Courtesy of my hyperactive coworker...

posted by Rainmayun at 5:08 PM -

January 10, 2004 :: Nickel-plated contemplation

So I had a date with this girl last night... a first date. The whole premise was bad news... I met her in a bar last week, and we got into a "discussion" about who could drink more and who had the better tolerance. She claimed she could hold her own, so we set a date where we knew neither of us had to work the next day.

We went to an African club called Izora in Silver Spring that actually turned out to be nicer than I expected. We had 2 vodka martinis and 2 shots of tequila each, and since her friend is the owner's girlfriend, we only had to pay for half of it. I also had 5 jerk chicken wings, and water. She had one wing (the southern girl in her couldn't handle the spices! should have been a sign) and no water.

We moved on to another spot in Adams Morgan called Fasika. She was showing tipsiness, but still on her feet. We each had a shot of remy and a shot of tequila... and she started getting wobbly. Then I got a shot of tequila for myself, which she snatched and drank most of, and then when I got a replacement she drank that one too. By the end of the night, her boogie was all gone and she was done. Victory! I claimed her car keys (no lectures please). It wasn't the type of victory to savor though, as she made a call to Earl before I pulled out of the spot. I drove her behemoth Ford Expedition all the way back to her apartment in Virginia, after which time I was quite tired. She somehow managed to weave her way into pajamas and a hair wrap and plop into her bed. I was going to let myself out, but I saw I could not lock the door on my way out since there was only a deadbolt. I went back into the bedroom, and she was mildly aware, but unwilling to get up out of the bed to let me out. I decided to stay there, and got into the bed in my beater and boxers.

Alcoholic sleep is usually the most blissful, because it's devoid of memorable dreams, and nothing wakes you up. Sleeping in a strange house is sometimes a problem for me, but I was knocked out... almost. Woke up around 4am, rolled over and shoved my hands under my pillow to reposition it, and came out with a nickel-plated pistol. I said to her, "hey, there's a pistol under my pillow!" She said, "oh yeah, I forgot about that." But alcoholic sleep beckoned, and I *very* gingerly slid the pistol under the bed and went back to sleep.

Now, I've known other women who owned firearms, none who actually slept with it under the pillow. I dated a cop once, and after that experience decided I would never date a cop again, and I am wary of women with firearms, but it isn't unprecedented in my life.

The next morning, after we woke up, shared our collective misery and drank water like a Bedouin at an oasis, I asked her if she had bought the gun herself or if it had been a gift. She was reticent to discuss it, grudgingly admitting it was a gift, "sorta." Of course, I knew there was a story there. All I was able to get out of her was that she had "had a bad breakup", and felt the need to protect herself. Now, this woman travels frequently for a living, and the relationship she spoke of didn't occur anywhere near this area, yet she still has it there. That means she thinks he's going to show up one day, and she needs a pistol to deal with him.

That means I don't want to be there when (A) he does come back, and I am in the middle of a domestic dispute involving a firearm, or (B) she decides she doesn't want to deal with me anymore and uses the firearm to inform me.

Am I wrong in this assessment? I don't think so.

posted by Rainmayun at 8:26 PM -

On a related note -

Check out the latest Boondocks. No commentary needed.

posted by GeckoGirl at 5:21 PM -

January 07, 2004 :: and another thing

OK, another minor rant. What's up with black people who don't eat pork? It's like the only thing the black community as a whole absorbed from the passing fad of NOI popularity was the "don't eat flesh of the pig" thing. I can respect people who don't eat pork because they are practicing Muslims. I can respect people who don't eat pork because they are practicing vegetarians. I can respect people who don't eat pork because they don't like it. But those people who don't eat pork and who can't explain why, they really annoy me. I'm going to fry up my bacon, and I'm going to eat it, and it's going to be good. You reminding me that you don't eat pork every time I say that I am going to eat some just makes me feel pity for your loss mixed in with the annoyance.

posted by Rainmayun at 10:43 AM -