It’s a Date!

Warning: I have never once claimed that my personal brand of crazy is rational.

Today I did something I have been avoiding for my entire adult life. I took myself to eat, alone, at Olive Garden. Now, I know that sounds silly and it’s just Olive Garden, but for some reason the idea of doing this very thing has been scary and caused my tons of anxiety just thinking about it. I’ve tried to figure out why. And the most logical thing that I can come up with is that for some reason, the idea of taking myself out to eat at a sit down restaurant, pretty much solidified my perpetual singlehood. Again. Not logical. I don’t think this for other people when I see them out to eat alone or my friends when they do it. I actually envy them. But for me, somehow, taking myself out to eat at a fancy restaurant (lol yes Olive Garden is still fancy to me) just somehow meant I had officially accepted my singleness and was the first step to many a single restaurant date. If you are judging me right now please go read the warning again.

So, I went to Olive Garden…and I didn’t die. I don’t know yet if I really enjoyed it but I’m sure I’ll do it again. As I sat there, I thought that the couple on the other side of the room would be what made me most sad but I didn’t really pay them much mind. What did make me a little nostalgic was the table full of old ladies next to me gushing over their one friend’s new hair cut. It reminded me of my friends. It reminded me of Leanna and I’s many cathartic lunch dates at Olive Garden. It made me miss my friends more than it made me yearn for a partner to go to eat with. Though that would still be great.

Prior to all of this I started thinking up a list of potential date ideas. As a single 30 year old woman, I can count of both hands and maybe require the assistance of one set of toes, the number of dates I’ve been on. If I don’t count random meetings at Walmart or parking lots, then I don’t need the toes. So needless to say I’ve had quite some time to think up some really awesome date ideas. Or at least I think they’re awesome.

So here goes:

Dinner and a movie! Duh. The classics are a must. I’m not picky at all. Feed me and take me to a movie and I’m a happy lady. A few variations… movie and then dinner!! Lol just kidding. But there are those fancy theaters uptown where you can eat real food at the movies. Or a double feature where each person picks a movie. Or show up at the movies at a random time and watch the next thing showing.

Book store date. I love reading. If you can suggest a good book you’ll have a piece of my heart. So we go to the bookstore. You pick out a book for me. I pick out one for you. Then we find a nice cozy spot somewhere around town to read. Or we get the same book and read and discuss. This I semi did once but the guy was cheap and ordered his book online and before it arrived we had stopped talking. I still read the book. It was great.

Netflix binge. This is maybe after we’ve been dating for a while. But a good Netflix binge is always nice on a rainy day. And depending on how long we’ve been dating and how serious it is it can totally be an official Netflix and Chill.

A museum. I hear Charlotte has tons of museums. I’ve only ever been to the Museum of the New South. That was once in middle school and twice in high school for prom. So those two don’t count. So let’s go see some cool museum stuff!

Trampoline park. Disclaimer. I like these places but am super out of shape so I can only bounce for like 5 minutes at a time.

Charlotte is always having some sort of festival. Let’s go! Bonus points if it’s a festival about something neither of us knows anything about (or the renaissance festival).

Anywhere but Charlotte! Again, maybe for later on after I’m certain you aren’t a serial killer. But road trips are cool. And it can totally be a random day trip just to try some fancy ice cream in a random town. Let’s just go!

One of those paint classes. Or that pottery painting place. Arts and crafts are fun even if you suck at them. The paint class doesn’t even have to be a couples one because what are we each going to do with half a painting. And if we go at night we can bring wine! Same for this pottery painting place I know of.

Clearly this is not an exhaustive list. There are a million other things that could be done. The most important part is who you’re with and the time spent together. Which has me thinking? Why am I waiting around for someone else to take me on a date and to do these things. Like I said. The most important part is who you’re with, that can be a partner, friends, family or yourself and the time spent together. As long as your having fun and getting to know whoever you are with…IT’S A DATE!!!

So, what are your favorite date ideas?!?!

Update:

I forgot

A comedy show. Doesn’t have to be Katt Williams (but if it was that would be awesome) even a local amateur night could be fun.

A concert. Someone huge or someone just up and coming. There’s always a concert going on. Fun story. A guy once stopped talking to me because I told him that if we went to the Drake concert I would be excited but wouldn’t be like screaming with my hands in the air the whole time. He said that if I wasn’t going to have fun then he wasn’t taking me. He struggled to understand everyone doesn’t show they are having fun the same way. I’ve dated some gems really.

You Can’t Have Your Cake and Eat it Too

So at first glance that statement is often confusing to me. Why not? It’s my cake! I should be able to eat it! A quick Wikipedia search though clarified it more for me and it makes sense. In essence you can’t have/retain/keep your cake but at the same time eat it because then it will be gone. You can’t do both. Either you want to look at the cake, have it in a dish for all to admire but never actually experience it. Or you want to devour it, consume it and have it be a part of you forever. An extra inch on your waist or dimple in your thigh. However, you just can’t do both.

Anyone else want cake now?

So, prior to my search for clarification, I came up with a better metaphor that fits what I want to say. And yes, this post is about relationships (or lack there of) because what else do I have to write about.

So, I fancy myself a semi-decent amateur baker. I always say whenever I get fully burnt out from counseling and quit a job in a fit of rage and decide to do something different with my life, I’ll open up a quaint little bakery called “Anything but Coffee” where I’ll just wake up every day, bake whatever I feel like it, so you could essentially get anything…but coffee because coffee is gross.

(One time I made peanut butter chocolate spread for a co-worker and the dream started)

So, while you definitely can’t have your cake and eat it too you know what else you can’t do? Expect to constantly get cake without contributing to the process! Baking is expensive! Eggs, flour, milk, good vanilla, spices, pans, electricity. That shits not cheap! And it takes time. I spent three evenings this week baking until 11 or 12 at night as a way to say thank you to my co-workers as I was leaving the job. I did it because I wanted to. And my payment back was the many thank you’s, some jokes of it not tasting good, the euphoric faces as people tasted it and apparently almost sending someone to the hospital over some double chocolate brownies. When I bake out of love there’s not enough money in the world someone can pay me to do it.

But we aren’t talking about actually baking! We’re talking about relationships.

I’ve learned a few things about myself over the last year.

1. Had I learned these things a long time ago life may have been easier in the relationship or lack there of department

2. I can’t beat myself for not learning it sooner

3. Change is hard

4. When I love, I love hard. Whole heartedly, unashamed, no questions. I’m just like a fountain over flowing with love for this other person.

Things I’ve learned about other people

1. Most people find that very overwhelming and if it’s not what they are looking for they will run for the hills every time.

Back to me:

5. I do this when I just like someone too.

I have sat around thinking for countless hours, why it is that I can go from not knowing someone to head over heels crushing on them with little to no information about them. “Oh you’re paying me some attention…awesome” and my brain automatically starts planning out insane details about the time we will spend together.

I wish I knew who or what to blame. My dads always been there for me so I can’t blame not having a male role model in my life. Sometimes I want to blame Disney movies but even those stupid princesses put up a fight. But here I am, not so patiently waiting for someone to show up and want to receive all this love I’m about to spontaneously combust from holding in.

And I don’t think it’s inherently a bad thing. Wanting to love someone unconditionally and completely is not a flaw (though people will make you feel that way and then you will make yourself feel that way). I have realized my trouble comes in that I’m just ready to give it to anyone who shows up. And without fail, they don’t want it an I end up hurt.

But more specific to that here’s what usually happens.

They show up. I get excited. I’m ready to be all in. They can sense this and back out…BUT…they don’t actually back out. They want the option. They somewhere deep down know “one day, this is what I’ll want. Not today. But one day I should and therefore let me see what I can do to keep her around until that day.”

Here is a short incomplete list of ways this typically happens:

Hey stranger text

Just checking in text

Can we still be friends

The Fuckboy Backout (see my fellow bloggers post for reference if you are unaware of what this is)

Let’s just take it day by day

And my personal favorite (insert sarcasm there): begging for a chance to make things right once I finally walk away and they realize what they’ve lost but still having no intention of doing anything different.

So basically, they want the cake, but they have absolutely zero intention of contributing to the cake making process. They appreciate that I show up with a whole damn cake ready for them to devour but have no intention of helping me make another one. Then their like “wait…that was the best cake I’ve ever had. Why isn’t there anymore… you just gonna leave and not give me anymore cake.” Yes. Yes I am because you took what I had and forgot to bring me more groceries to make another!

I can be a limitless supply of cake. And a lot of the ingredients just come naturally. But some have to be contributed. Or maybe I just need an oven to bake it in. Idk. I may need to think the metaphor through some more. But you get the point. And before you even start. Yes. I can be both the baker, the ingredients, the supplies and the oven. How do you think the new cake that the new man gets is made. Self-esteem, self-love and putting the pieces back together after the last idiot ate the cake and ran without paying the bill!

So moving forward, my goal is to not so easily offer up the cake. Pay attention to whose just eating the cake and running away and who is actually trying to invest in the cake making process. Everyone does not deserve my cake.

And if you don’t know already…ask about me…I bake a mean cake (and cookies, and cheesecake).

Harsh Truths From Gentle Friends

Tonight I am thankful for friends who say what needs to be said even when it is tough to hear.

I have been blessed beyond measure with three intelligent, amazing, beautiful, kind and ferocious female friends that make up the inner most circle of my tribe. They have laughed with me, cried with me, traveled with me, gotten drunk on nachos, margaritas and self-love with me, and when I have been completely broken and not had any idea how to put myself back together they have not tried to fix me. Instead, they have gently held my broken pieces and breathed words of life and loving reminders of why I deserve to be whole and complete in my own right. They kept my pieces safe until I was strong enough to put them back together. For this, I am eternally grateful.

But sometimes…a lot of the time…they are more than willing to say the not so nice things. The things that hurt. The things that knock a few pieces loose again and cause me to have to re-arrange and rebuild. It hurts. It sucks. But I know that it is done with the most love imaginable as they only want to see me thrive and be the best me I can be.

This happened Thursday night. So Tegan…this ones for you!

After a long day of work, a rough couple weeks (okay months) in the lack of love department and right before watching the much anticipated Black Panther premier, as I stuffed nachos in my mouth and had another discussion about why men suck, why I deleted tinder and why I refuse to settle. Tegan, my most gentle and kind friend and the last person on this planet who would purposefully hurt someone, after explaining to me what she feels is causing my frustration and patiently listening to my rebuttal uttered this statement…

“But you’re still single”

From a few tables down I legit heard the waitress say “Damn Tegan. Shots fired.” (We frequent this restaurant a lot but they know each other from high school just in case you were wondering).

Let me back up just a tiny bit to give some context to the statement. But trust me. It doesn’t make it any less harsh.

Here is a brief history of my dating life: I’m minding my business trying to live my best life. Random guy enters the picture in some random way (tinder, going out, sliding in my DM’s, someone saying hey I think you would like this guy. Normal 21st century dating stuff). I give said guy a chance. If I had a super power, it would be my ability to see the good in anyone, latch onto that, and fall in love with it. That happens. I’m amazing. Guy decides nope not what he wants. Guy exits in some usual dramatic way that involves either a very confusing argument or him explaining how amazing and wonderful I am but why he just can’t be with me because he is scared, has goals, doesn’t want to hurt me, or they try to convince me I’m crazy for having standards. I’m sad for a while (though the amount of time spent being sad is getting shorter and shorter). And I swear off all men. Until the cycle starts again. And scene.

It works like clockwork it’s almost scary. So after this happening about 13574893020193837920 times (actual number. Not an exaggeration). I guess the people closest to you get pretty sick of it and decide forget it…I’m just going to let her know it’s all her fault so she can fix the problem and finally find a man.

Just kidding. That’s not what she did. I gave her a really hard time and got really loud and dramatic and for the duration of the movie told everyone I was re-evaluating our friendship. But really I totally understood what she was saying.

So the discussion prior to the statement was that I tend to date the same type of guy. And clearly that’s not working. A lot of the discussion centered around looks and the type of guy I am attracted to and maybe that’s why it’s not working for me. Her thesis was that I need to date someone I’m not attracted to and that attraction will grow and that other things should be more important. That I need to try something different.

Let me pause right here. I’m not shallow. Of the list of qualities I am looking for in a man, drop dead gorgeous Michael B Jordan look alike is not one of them (though I wouldn’t be mad if it happened that way)

I have dated some ugly guys (sorry if you’re one of them) but according to Tegan, I even have an ugly guy type.

So her suggestion was try something different. Find a nerdy, ugly guy who I’m not attracted to who would worship the ground I walk on. Attraction will grow.

My concern is however, that to me that sounds a lot like settling. Not to say I would never date a “nerd.” I’m sure plenty of people would call me a nerd for my love of reading, knitting and all things Harry Potter related. But to me it felt like “don’t chase the spark” (explanation to come) and just find someone who is looking for a relationship and see if it works out. And my fear more than being single forever, is settling just to be with someone and waking up 20 years from now not knowing how I got there and wanting to run.

I don’t think it’s wrong to want a spark (see I told you it was coming). And not a lustful dang he’s beautiful I want to have his babies even though he is a butt hole spark. But a connection. One I’ve never been able to explain but have felt on several occasions leading me to no longer believe in the idea of a soul mate. But something that makes me interested from the beginning and wanting to spend time with them and get to know them. To endure bad days with them and be their safe space and to know each other.

and for that spark to grow into a beautiful, committed, connected relationship that is unbreakable by fight, or distance or some random thot.

But here’s the thing. Of all my friends. Tegan is the only one of us not single. Not only is she not single, she’s engaged!

So I would be stupid not to at least take a few minutes (or the remainder of dinner and the duration of Black Panther) to think about what she said.

While I watched all the amazing black women before me on the movie screen with a few glimpses of men in there too I got to thinking about what I admired most about Tegan. I know she hates being called strong but that’s exactly what it is. In particular, her ability to hear “advice” and opinions from all sorts of people, including myself, take it, process it and in the end come up and act on the decision that works best for her. It takes strength to go against almost everyone’s opinion of your relationship and say screw you, I’m sticking with it because it works for me. It might not make sense to you, but it’s my life, I see the vision, and I have faith that in the end it will all make sense for everyone else.

That’s purposefully vague because I’m not trying to put all of Tegan’s business out there but just know, that it worked out. Heck, she got the ring, but more than that she has a man she loves, who adores her and it works for them. I can’t be mad at that.

So, I said all that to say this. As I sat in a movie theater, watching one of the most amazing movies I’ve seen, with a cast full of beautiful and amazing black people, and strong and fierce black women, next to my best friend whom at the moment I was deciding wether I wanted her to remain my best friend, I came to the conclusion that maybe she’s right. She probably is right. But I also came to another conclusion…

Maybe I’m right too…

Maybe it is possible to find someone, and have that initial spark, and be attracted to them in all different areas, and for them to like me back and want to make things work. I don’t like operating from a mindset that assumes that all interesting, intriguing, goal oriented, employed, and slightly attractive men, especially black men, are ass holes. I have seen many a woman with this kind of man and it work. So I have chosen to hold out faith that it will happen for me. That I won’t have to settle. That there is someone out there who as Tegan put it “will appreciate all the awesomeness” that is me.

And maybe he’ll be gorgeous, or maybe he’ll be my kind of ugly. Maybe I’ll have to try something new and get out of my comfort zone, or actually leave the house, or maybe he’ll be at Salsa’s one night overhearing our ridiculous conversations and he’ll be intrigued. I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. I know that for now I am tired and will allow myself to rest and in the future I will try again. And maybe one day I’ll tell this story at my wedding reception, or maybe one day we will be 60 years old and still meeting for Mexican and movie night and Tegan will say

“I told you so.”

Sometimes Answered Prayers Suck!

There’s this country song that says “sometimes God’s greatest gift is unanswered prayer.” It’s a kind of lovely notion. You pray for something, it doesn’t happen but in the end something better does.

But that’s not what this is about. Oh how I would be grateful for unanswered prayers after nights like last night.

Instead, last night was a friendly reminder that sometimes God’s most painful gift is a big fat “No.”

So here’s the thing. It may be hard to tell, and that’s probably a problem, but I do believe in God. I struggle with the God presented to me in church. Somehow a loving father figure who along the lines of history has conveniently hated and condemned large groups of people based on what the highly conservative Christian church has decided is unworthy (think black people, gay people, women and anyone else middle age white men have taken issue with). I believe in a God of love and compassion…for all. He’s working on me.

Anywho…

So, as a result of my beliefs I do pray. I pray for all sorts of things, help, strength, knowledge, discernment, a man. Y’all. God is probably so sick of me praying for a man that I’m pretty sure every time it happens he just looks like this 🤦🏽‍♂️. Like dear lord make it stop…oh wait…that’s me.

But here I am. 30 years old. Single and seriously beyond tired of attempting to mingle that I’m so ready to just wrap it up and give up for ever.

Because here’s what happens. Every time. Without fail.

I’m minding my own business. Trying to live my best life. I’ve got my amazing daughter, my beautiful and loving family, and the best friends a girl could ask for. I am not bothering anyone. I’m not looking. Being single is not the biggest concern of my life. But I get bored. I get the itch. “Man. It sure would be nice to have a relationship.” So, I throw it out there. People tell me all the time “you won’t meet anyone sitting in the House knitting Ashley.” So I go out. Or I get on Tinder. Usually Tinder because I don’t go out much. Sometimes I get on. Swipe for a few days. Get annoyed and get off. If I’m lucky this is what happens. Or I go out and don’t meet anyone and life goes back to normal. But sometimes, the stars align and I go out, and so does someone else, we meet, and seem to hit it off. Or I swipe right and they do too and conversation begins. Numbers are exchanged and things seem to go well.

Fun fact: I have a deep rooted fear of being wanted only for sex and also getting into “situationships.” You know, I like you, you like me, we do all the things couples do but never commit. Yea I have spent most of my adult life in situationships so I’m not trying to do that any longer.

Fun fact: I feel it in my soul that I am meant to be someone’s rib. Someone’s support. Someone’s calm and safe place at the end of a bad day. Someone’s cheerleader and support at the end of a good day. There is no way God put all this yearning for love inside of me for it to just sit there almost to the point of explosion.

So, long story short. Without fail here is what happens. My insecurities start to kick him. Probably triggered by some sort of yellow or red flag that I’m working on getting better at reading. Something isn’t sitting right with my soul.

I then pray, what I have come to realize, is the only prayer that without fail I get almost an immediate answer too. Like I pray for stuff and sometimes I wonder if it just gets lost in the clouds somewhere. But this prayer is my direct line to Jesus. It’s like before it leaves my lips I have sent it straight via email to his throne in heaven and it bypasses any other prayers he may be working on. What is it you may ask?

“Lord. If this man is not meant for me. Please let him slip through my fingers before I start to hold on too tight.”

That’s it. Short. Simple. To the point. And without fail. Within 24-48 hours. I receive confirmation that they are not meant for me. Usually just the conversation is had. A lot of times it’s not initiated by me. Or sometimes they do or say something that I have to acknowledge as a large red flag. But it happens. Every time.

Sometimes I fight it. I beg and plead with God to not let it be true. I cry. A lot. And sometimes I stick around only to be miserable and have to walk away later.

It always sucks. It always hurts. And like last night, if there really wasn’t anything wrong and it just really could have been the right person but not the right time, I can literally feel the piece of my heart break off as it chooses to kind of stick around with the other person as I have to walk away.

There’s probably way to many men walking around this world who don’t know they are carrying small pieces of my beautiful, loving, caring, supportive heart. While I sit back night after night fearful, and hurting, and struggling, and wondering “why me” “what’s wrong with me.” And praying I don’t give it all away and one day have nothing left.

So. I’ll end here. Part of me says, never pray that prayer again because the answer is too painful. But part of me knows, especially over the last year, each time it’s answered I learn something, and I grow. I think it’s coming. I hope it’ll happen for me. I doubt it. And sometimes like now I have restless nights where I cry and beg and plead and wonder if those prayers are just getting stuck in the land of lost prayers. I consider giving up. I do for a while. But then I’ll get the itch again and it’ll all start over.

But for now… sweet dreams.

To all the women…

To all the women, like myself, who saw this meme and realized we were a “Ford F-150 extended cab 4×4 with pro Tow Package…

To all the women who are still trying to lose pregnancy weight 12 years later…

To all the women whose stomach sticks out further than their boobs or butt…

To all the women whose waist is not shaped like an hour glass…

To all the women who get super excited when they see unaltered images in your Lane Bryant emails

But even then feel self conscious because your body doesn’t even look “that good”…

To all the women who know there actually is an answer to this question…

And you fall on the wrong side of the scale…

To all the women who have made them self sick from dieting and exercising with little to no results…

To all the women who judge them selves harsher than anyone in the world ever will…

To all the women who know that very few people in the world respond this way

But you hold out hope that one day you’ll find someone who does…

For all the women who have been offered random fitness advice by people you don’t know or barely know…

To all the women who hate the gym…

To all the women who bought gym memberships in January but haven’t gone back…

To all the women who struggle to fit in airplane seats…

To all the women who crave chocolate cake during their period and afterwards…

To all the women who consistently give into cravings…

To all the women who know the pain that is “chub rub”…

To all the women who have decided they aren’t good enough based on something someone else has said or done…

Know this

And this

And we are gorgeous just the way we are.

If you’re going to shoot your shot…please actually shoot it!

Maybe I’m getting way too old for this shit.

Maybe my tolerance for bullshit has reached an all time low.

Maybe I hit 30 and just decided that life is too damn short to sit around waiting on some other person to decide I’m good enough.

I don’t know

What I do know is my attitude when it comes to potential relationships and someone not wanting me has gone from this

To this

(There was a Facebook video that had these two together but I couldn’t figure out how to get it here.)

There are two major reasons that this has taken place

First.

I have spent entirely too much time in my life upset that someone did not want me. Let’s say I’ve been interested in dating and relationships since I was about 12. That means I have spent 18 years…over half of my life…trying to figure out why “no one wants me.” This has legit been the dialogue I have been having in my head on a daily basis. Why does no one want me? Why am I so undateable? Why have I never been asked to a dance (I realized this one today as I took my daughter to buy an outfit for the dance and she talked about her and her friend going together. Shout out to best friends who go to dances with you when no one asks you to go with them!)? Why have I been asked on very few actual dates? Why do guys get mad when they ask for nudes and you say no and then they try to make you seem crazy? Why am I single? Why did I not forward that chain letter in 5th grade that clearly stated I would be single forever if I didn’t forward it? Why? Why? Why?

What’s wrong with me?

The truth is, this train wreck of a thought process had me in the shower looking just like this the other day:

But, even with this recent moment of frustration, I have realized something since then.

My bounce back ability has grown exponentially over the years. Back in the day I would spend days, if not weeks, miserable and sad because someone decided they didn’t want anything to do with me. Or I wasn’t worth it. Over these last 18 years that has changed.

That ugly shower sob lasted maybe 10 minutes. After a good night’s sleep, I’ve been pretty solid ever since. Do I still think about the situation? Yep. Have I wanted to blog about it and cuss all of the male population out? Yep. Have I considered just finding a girlfriend and telling men they lost their chance? Daily. But the miserable, constant dwelling on it, and blaming my self for it all has definitely not been as intense as it normally is. I’ve been proud of myself.

Y’all. Loving yourself is hard. Anyone who tells you different is a bold face liar.

Anywho. So yea. That’s reason number one why my attitude has changed. Growth, progress and channeling my inner Cardi B

Second, and the reason for the title of this random post.

I have zero time for people shooting half as shots then being salty later on when their shot didn’t make it in!!

So I know that’s kind of the exact opposite of my earlier negative self talk trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. Do guys attempt to talk to me? Occasionally. Do they try very hard? No. Do I usually respond when a guy does put in a moderate amount of effort? Yes. Do those guys usually end up being narcissistic ass holes ? Hell yes. Then do those other guys show up salty a few weeks later trying to tell me it’s my fault I keep getting hurt because I never gave them a chance but then again they don’t actually step up and shoot the damn shot?

I can’t count the number of times this happens. And by the same people over and over. Or by random people. Always me. And they tell me I’m still single because I’m too picky, or my standards are too high, or they hint and say “you never know. Maybe he’s right under your nose and you just keep over looking him.”

Anyways. Here’s my suggestion. If you are going to shoot your shot. SHOOT YOUR DAMN SHOT. I really wish I could make some really cool basketball references here but I can’t. But basically actually step up to the damn line, position your self accordingly and shoot the shot. Make it the best shot you have ever taken in your entire life.

And you know what. If you don’t make it, at least you know you gave it an actual try. And then you can tellme that I’m a terrible person, with standards that are too high, and a terribly misconstrued fairy tale idea of what love and life should be like. Then you can sit back and laugh the next time I’m heart broken and posting cryptic Facebook statuses about hating all people. But until then. Keep sitting on the bench and pouting. And leave me alone.

I don’t know how long this mindset will last. Next week I may be sad again. Or next month I may get swept away by another charming narcissist. Or this could very well be my new way of thinking for the next decade. We will all have to wait and see. But what I do know is I will continue to be way to old for this shit. And my tolerance for the bull shit will continue to be very very low.

And you will never have a chance if you don’t shoot your shot!

Application for Diversity

A month ago, my daughter introduced me to a new app as she routinely does. What typically happens is I notice her playing something incessantly and download it to see what it is. I then obsess over it for a few days until I reach some awful level that I can’t beat and I give up. This time, however, has been different.

Sandbox

Quite possibly the best time wasting app I have ever come across. I have yet to figure out how the name relates to the app. It’s a color by number app. That’s it. No levels. No time limits. Only constraint is you have to pay for access to more detailed pictures, which I promptly did to color in order to color this lotus flower.

It also does this awesome time lapse video after you fill it in.

So there are all sorts of pictures you can color. Flowers, cars, cartoons, people, cartoon people in cars holding flowers. Okay maybe not that one but anything is possible.

The other day, however, I noticed something when a picture popped up. I had been coloring in very detailed and beautiful pictures of white women. Pictures like this.

And this

And I just want to throw out this picture of a tiger in here, because it’s awesome

There were also some really cool cartoon white people as well

But after playing for almost a month this was the first person of color that I colored

Do you see the problem?

If you don’t. That’s another post for another time. But for those who already get it let’s proceed. If you don’t, you can still proceed and maybe you’ll catch up.

I really didn’t want to believe this person was black but as I filled her in and the complexion was completed and that awkward butt thing finished I had to acknowledge it. This was their first and only black woman or even person of color all month. Unless you count this guy

And I don’t.

This one came later, but I wasn’t sure if they were black or a seriously tanned version of Gene Simmons

Even these clearly non white characters just looked like white people in costume

This initially started me writing a post in my head about white privilege. White privilege is seeing yourself represented in apps automatically and not having to question why there are no people of color.

But then I decided to try something. I never review apps or leave comments. This time I did. I left a comment for sandbox pointing out the lack of diversity and how it would be nice to see more detailed pictures of people of color and men (white men included). Diversity is an amazing thing.

I honestly didn’t expect much. Maybe a response about how they were working on it. Or no response at all.

But y’all…the most beautiful thing happened.

Every morning I wake up to 5 or 6 new pictures to color. THE VERY NEXT MORNING this is what I saw.

DO Y’ALL SEE THAT?!? Not the astronaut or the gems or the watermelon or that angry knight in the corner. No. Right there. That beautiful, detailed, obviously BLACK woman!!!

I can not describe how full my heart was when I saw that. I immediately got to work coloring her in to see how gorgeous she was. With every shade of brown that I applied my heart grew bigger. I ran to my daughter and her friend and told them what had happened. What I had done.

Yep. I’m taking full responsibility for this one. Maybe they were already working on it. But that’s a huge coincidence. THE NEXT DAY!! I’ve had guys take longer to respond to a text message than it did for this app developer to respond to my suggestion.

And then I got to thinking. Why isn’t it always that easy. That’s all it took. Correcting the issue. They didn’t have to respond. They didn’t have to apologize. All they had to do was correct the issue. No questioning. No trying to convince me I was making things up. No defending why they hadn’t had a diverse selection of skin tones up until this point. No blaming. No finger pointing. No all coloring lives matter crap. Just correction of the problem. Why can’t it always be this easy?

Maybe one day the rest of the world will learn from the Sandbox app and quickly acknowledge and correct racism when it is pointed out. Until then I will keep admiring this beautiful lady I colored in and count this as one itty bitty teeny tiny step to equality.

Here she is!

Here’s her video

And just a few days later I got to color in this possible Cardi B image that I love too

(Or is that Miley?!?)

Ps. My daughter says that if you want some good entertainment read the other reviews to the app.