You know the kind of hot that makes you mad? That’s Miami hot. All you wanna do is slap somebody it’s so damn skippy hot! I mean, dang, can a sista not broil in her car? Oh, yeah, my A/C ain’t working secondary to lack of sufficient funds tohandle that. Yup, don’t ever move somewhere that doesn’t promise to pay you half your first paycheck UP FRONT ya heard? One of my Aunties used to say, "When the weather gets hot, people get stupid". I tend to agree with her.
Whomever designed this city was maaad–DSM-IV AGA (my initials) kind of mad. *Shaking my head*. There are no gutters in this place! You drive down flat land with stagnant pools of water on each side of the road so you end up driving in the merging/turning lanes. Dude, come on now! What? Civ Es get paid maaad money to handle this…so handle it!
In other news, it’s hot. ROTFLOL. Did I mention that stifling tropical heat like God purposely set the temperature to Africa setting? Dang-yo! Sigh. Hawt mess! Hawt mess.
In romantic news I was asked what "difficulties" I have that have led me to be single. *Eyebrow raised* As if being a highly educationed; BLACK; professional; PHYSICIAN; whose lexicon includes words such as lexicon; not-trying to show the world all my goods; highly Christian and somewhat eccentric; but somehow exuding power, passion, compassion and self-confidence weren’t enough to make most American men (especially them white bruthas) HEAD FOR THE HILLS!!! Come on now! You’ve got to be kidding me! Then again the person asking me was a 6ft, anorexic-looking, blond psychiatrist with blue-eyes who had serious issues with my weight (sigh, a story for another less rational time) and who informed me that it was good I wasn’t "limiting myself" to black men given my current location in Miami (land of a thousand tongues and all of them Spanish).
I’m gonna have to import men from Europe ’cause they’re the only ones who seem to be able to look beyond their own fears and weaknesses to see the needs and desires in successful women (black or otherwise). Last time I checked we liked to be wined and dined, flirted with, joked around and smiled at. And then again maybe my standards are too high–which in and of itself informs me that most guys I come across aren’t take-homeable–but I like to think that all the loving I’ve got to give, you betta be darn skippy that he’s gonna stick around for the semi-implosions. Yes, semi-implosions.
Men like to think that someone like me doesn’t have need of them. Why? Always and forever why? Yes, I get paid mad dolo (or at least I will). Yes, I’m confident (in some things more than others, I mean dude, do you want a woman with no self-esteem at all?). Yes, I’m black (I don’t do the rosy cheeks). Yes, I’m well educated (you do want to have a decent conversation with me). Yes, I’m a Christian (no negotiation on that one). Yes, I’m big (in all the right places heehee). So what’s really good? Sigh, make a sista just wanna disappear sometimes yall men out there.
Contrary to popular belief, I DO NOT ROLL MY EYES, COCK MY HEAD AND SWISH MY HIPS in order to make a point. But how many American men are going to believe me? Probably one or two. Ah well. And with all the "mamis" here with their "papis", what’s an out-of-towner such as myself going to do? PRAY!! Yup, it’s serious praying time. I would like to go out on a date. It would be nice if someone whom I found attractive found me attractive as well.
Oh crap–might as well get it out in the open. I’m lonely. My friends are scattered, the work is hard, administrative issues suck, I’m church mouse broke and gas costs a pint of blood. I see all the residents around me with their honeys and their kids and I think to myself: wouldn’t that be nice? Especially now that my sisterhood of strong, single black females is no longer within walking/61C distance. Oh, yeah, I’ve been missing my ex-unrequited love. It’s bad when I start missing him. I dreamt that we spoke on the phone and he enthusiastically agreed to go with me somewhere but then he never called back. Typical….
Patience is something I gotta learn.
I feel like my life has paused for years while I followed this dream. Now when I’m ready to partaaay, everyone is changing diapers! WHAT????!!! DANG!
Residency is hilarious. Patients are hilarious. I’m tired though. 6AM is kinda early to be up and about in this flipping Miami-make-you-wanna-slap-the-first-policeman-you-see (only b/c you have an intense dislike of them). Dang yall, I need to go out dancing!
Yup, I can partaaay all I want in Miami but please recall that this sista’s money is funny and my change is strange. Till that works out…I’ma hafta ‘CALL TYROOOOOONE’……
DANG, it’s hot!