Dear Universe

Okay Universe… you’re being real cute right now and I don’t appreciate it. I also feel like we’ve had this conversation before. It’s not cute.

Let’s talk about money. It’s been a relatively simple ask: let me have some money. I’m willing to work for it, but it would be more fun to have it fall into my lap. Either way, I want money. Cash. Windfall. Long lost relative who leaves me something in their will. A REAL prince via email.


You send me exes. You sent me the ex from TEN years ago to creep my profile on LinkedIn (why?). You sent my ex from nearly two years ago to work down the street from where I live and work…right smack in the middle of my dog’s favourite walking route.



Not cute.

One of my friends suggests that the universe is TRYING to tell me to recognize the signs and acknowledge that it’s trying to send me a man…

Okay. Let’s roll with this. It wasn’t what I was asking for – because I don’t think I’m ready – but sure. Why the hell not?

So. Universe? I’m guessing I have to be specific. Because if you’re going to send me a man so attractive that I momentarily forget how to use words, CAN YOU MAKE SURE HE’S 100% SINGLE?!


This guy. Well. This guy seems sweet and funny, and smart, and OH HE COOKS… but is “sorta” seeing someone.


Is this the kind of “sorta” where he means that he’s just started to date someone and things are great, but like any great romantic comedy moment, our meet cute causes him to rethink that relationship with the harridan* of a girlfriend, and pursue me…or is he a typical Toronto dude, in which case “sorta” actually means that he’s been with the same chick for over a year, they live together, and just got a dog…but y’know, he’s not looking to “define what they are.


*(Yes. She’s probably a wonderful woman…but for my fantasy, she’s a harridan and an obstacle to overcome, okay? In my head, she is a MINOR TECHNICALITY.) 

Please dear Universe: send me the dude who is tatted, bald, with strong features, nice eyes, nice smile, wonderful voice, professional, close to my age, with a sense of purpose and a sense of style. Make him easy to talk to, a little bit flirty, loves to cook, and make him 100% AVAILABLE.

If that’s too much to ask, I’m willing to settle for cash.




Dream Analysis – HALP!

My subconscious is trying to tell me something. Again.

Two strange dreams. Both during the same sleep cycle.

Dream #1

There’s a dude I’ve known for almost 20 years.

About 10 years ago, he admitted that he had a thing for me waaaaaaay back when. But I curved him.

Uhm. NO I didn’t. I didn’t realize he was expressing interest. Because, clueless. Carrying on. 

About 6 years ago, he made an overt move. Initially I said no…but then I said yes, thinking, “what have I got to lose”. Well. The moment I said “yes”, he disappeared faster than David Blaine and David Copperfield combined.

It was beyond being stood up. Dude basically had me standing around looking more alone than Tom Cruise in Time Square.

Meh. Bygones.

But I had a dream that he made another play and I was accepting of it. I’m not in contact with this guy and honestly? Haven’t given him much thought since the Great Curving of 2010. Why him? Of all people? I would think that if I were going to give someone a chance, it wouldn’t be him.


Dream #2

My ex boss offered to take my blog and produce a series out of it. Strange because a) he doesn’t know THIS blog exists (he was familiar with HLBB) and b) WE don’t keep in touch.

Funny part: that whole dream was from my POV, looking down at my phone as the offer/subsequent conversation took place via text message).


So here we have it kids: two people from my past, that I don’t keep in contact with/think about, have offered to “improve” my personal and professional lives.

What gives?

Michelle LaVaughn Robinson…

When that room stood up and gave an ovation at just the mention of your name…

I fear you are too modest to realize what this means to see this as a Black woman.

Knowing that we don’t get ovations. We don’t get the praise. We don’t get the tributes. That we haven’t had the opportunity to bask in that praise.

Not yet.

(But yes we can…)

Don’t be mad at the guy who stayed seated. He’s obviously Secret Service. 

With grace and with grit and with style.



He said he’ll never keep diaries 2 learn from his mistakes
Instead he’ll just repeat all the good things that he’s done



Don’t know how to feel about this song. ABC had a listening party for Prince fans and…

While part of me is thinking “YES! New Prince MUSIC!!”, there is another part of me that feels like he wouldn’t want this. One of the reasons I’m such a huge fan of Prince is that he is (sigh…was) such a perfectionist. This is a man who trashed an entire album because he felt that his spirit wasn’t right when he recorded it.

One superfan even said, “this sounds like a bootleg…it sounds like a demo…it sounds like a Revolution track”

For me, I hear pieces of The Beautiful Ones in here…which makes sense since this track was reportedly recorded in 1982, and The Beautiful Ones in 1983. I can imagine how Prince might’ve taken elements of the musical arrangement and then used them for the song he considered to be the better version.

Ultimately, I’ll be selfish and listen/buy Moonbeam Levels. Or, I’ll put The Beautiful Ones on repeat.


May U Live 2 See The Dawn



Dinner For One…


I get it.

What I’m happy about is that I “got it” a lot quicker than the last time.

I wanted a date. You wanted to fuck.

Now. These things aren’t mutually exclusive. Just because I wanted a date (first), it didn’t mean that you weren’t going to get fucked. But I can see how you might think that. But to forget that you had made plans for a date? While still remembering that you wanted to fuck me?


We didn’t even get started, so I can’t even be mad…

(or even bitter) 

I AM annoyed. I wasn’t sure why at first. So I slept on it.

But I woke up. Annoyed. Thought about it some more.

Then it hit me.

It was the, “I have a lot on my plate” line.


Cue up Sunshine Anderson, because I’ve heard that all before…

I get having a lot on one’s plate. I do. I really do.

But I’m not parsley, luv.

I’m the fucking steak.

The main course that you can’t wait to dive into. The one you make reservations for. The one you wait to be cooked to perfection. The one you’ll stand in line for when you can’t make a reservation.

I’m not drive thru.

So. Just like that (poof), you are gone.

Nope. I’m not interested in seeing the dessert menu.

I’mma just order some takeout.



Office. Crush(ed).

I’m working this contract gig (yawn), and most of my days are filled with contracts, reports, and contractors. Disappointing because not a single contractor is hot.

I thought this was the point of contractors. That they be hot. What the hell?!!?

I’ve had a tendency to work in environments that are predominately women, which is great for keeping track of your period, not so great if you want to have a little eye candy (and you’re straight). The men I have worked with have either been married (no go zone) or just not attractive.

Realizing this a while back, I had complained to my BFF that I’ve never really had a proper work crush because I’ve always worked with unattractive schlubs or married men. Never have I been able to flirt or gaze admiringly at a man I’ve worked with.


Then. He walked in. The new guy.


Everything. EVERYTHING about this man? The face, the smile. The horn rimmed glasses. The impeccable taste in clothing. The cologne. Then he spoke. You would think that he had David Beckham Syndrome, but no. Even his name was heavenly. I was ready. I was so ready.

I have this one problem though – I always  forget to look for the ring. Not that I’m out there looking to be homewrecker #1…I just don’t. But chances are that if I find you attractive, you’re more than likely married. Married means you (hopefully) have your shit together and own at least one suit. So I was ready to give up before I started.

Then my Office Auntie came over.

“Did you see the new guy? He’s very attractive. Do you find him attractive? Is he single? I’ll find out for you…”

(Did I mention that my Office Aunties want to see me married by the time I’m 40? Which is in 6 months? Erm…)

I sent out text messages to friends

“THEY HIRED A BLACK GUY! AND HE’S HOT!! (insert heart eyes emojis here…all of them) 

Both me and my Office Auntie tried to spot a ring on his hand. But the future father of my children is a very diligent worker. No chit chat. Buried in his work space. One day three, he had a question about his computer and the person he asked didn’t know. I passed by and our coworker said “I betcha RR knows… she’s a whiz with Macs”


Fix the issue. Takes 30 seconds. My boss walks by to see me at Hot Guy’s desk. As I head back to my office he asks what that was about. I explain that new guy had a quick question and I was helping him (seriously, I was at his desk for about a minute and that includes being asked the question, fixing the issue and walking away).

“He’s NOT the priority. He can figure it out on his own.”

Boom. All my blessings. Blocked.


Still. The Office Auntie tries to persevere on my behalf. But Hot New Guy doesn’t do the chit chat. Takes lunch on his own or with one of the (few) men in the office.

Yesterday, I finally get a chance to talk with Hot New Guy. I try to insert a little bit of flirt…then I remembered that my flirting usually makes me seem like a serial killer trying to get you into my white van. So, I regroup and try to keep it casual and professional…and that’s when he said it.

“…one time, my girlfriend and I went to…”



The rest of the conversation? Dunno. He sounded like a Charlie Brown adult after that.
He lives a nice part of downtown, which means he and his girlfriend are definitely living together; which means (in my mind) married.


Girl. Friend.


My ONE chance at an office crush. A work bae. A chance at a private meeting in my office…

Girl. Friend.

He goes back to his desk and I cue up YouTube to play some music (and to muffle the sounds of me muttering “fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking girlfriend”) “The Boy is Mine” came up…

The suggested by YouTube songs after that?
“He Wasn’t Man Enough for Me” – Toni Braxton
“Try Again” – Aaliyah
“Heartbreaker” – Mariah and Jay Z
I see what you did there universe. cute.
I told the Office Auntie that he mentioned a girlfriend.
“But that’s not married. Otherwise he would’ve said ‘partner’. She’s just a girlfriend…”
(yes. She’s ruthless)


The One That Got Away (?)

While complaining about my whack-a-mole exes…I was asked, “do you think there’s one that got away?”

My response for the past few days:


One. That. Got. Away.


What are the odds you can date for 25 years and not have met the one? Is it possible?

I’m trying to figure it out.

Erm. Wait. The first 10 years of that, I was a serial monogamist; so that can’t really count. Let’s narrow it down to 15 years. In 15 years, is it possible that I have met “THE ONE?” Have I met that one person? The soulmate? The person who completes me?

I typed all that and immediately had a giggle fit. Also, typing THE ONE made me think of The Matrix. Lemme try this again…

Have I met that perfect someone who hits all the checkmarks on my list? MORE IMPORTANTLY, did this guy meet me, and think I checked everything off on HIS list? Only to have us break up because I treat commitment the way most people treat a swarm of locusts?

My response to myself:


I’m leaning towards no. Here’s why…

Sidebar: I’m only counting the guys I have dated in some way or (heh) another. Guys I’ve been friends with or are friends with now are friends… I don’t believe in that friendzone bullshit. I believe in aliens, the freemasons, and that my dog understands everything I’m saying…but I don’t believe in the friendzone.

In a past post, I said that there is one ex that I miss(ed), but I don’t even think that he’s the one who got away, and this is why…

Because if they were great and/or perfect…we’d still be together, non?

Now…let’s factor in what I call “missed opportunities”? Do missed opportunities count? Meaning, you met someone great but they were with someone…or you were with someone and now that you’re not with someone…blah blah blah? That’s what I call a missed opportunity. Because if you’re soul mates, if you’re fated to be…then a little technicality like “married to someone else” wouldn’t matter right?

(so says all the people rationalizing why they’re sliding into someone’s DMs right now…)

So, I sat wondering. Did I miss out on HIM?

Still thinking no.

One getting away also implies regret. I don’t regret my exes. Nope. Not even the abusive one…the passive aggressive asshole…or the stalker

(those are three separate dudes by the way…)

…because they all taught me something. All the lessons learned from my exes have prepared me for whatever comes next. If what’s next means that he’s perfect(ish), then I won’t let him get away. If I won’t let a perfect pair of shoes get away…then I definitely wouldn’t let a perfect man get away. Trust.

For shits and giggles, let’s factor in the shots I didn’t take. You miss 100% of the shots you didn’t take, yes? I don’t take a lot of shots, because I’m shy (SHUT UP. I AM)…so, would the one that got away be one that I never cast a line for?

Great. Lemme go think some more.

What do you say?