Happily Single After: Turkey Day Edition

"If the only prayer you said in your whole life was "thank you", that would suffice." ~Unknown 


I remember holidays past when my ex and I would plot out how we'd spend the holidays. Would we go down to Georgia to his immediate family or my extended family? Would we take a drive down the turnpike to spend the day with my parents and my sisters? Would we stay local and visit his family?  This was the dilemma we were faced with every year. Wherever we ended up, our holidays were always filled with that warm, fuzzy feeling of being in love and being around the people that loved us most. Sometimes it was as simple as our eyes meeting from opposite sides of the room or simply sitting close and sharing a quiet joke about some family member who had had too much to drink that made me look forward to what the holidays meant to us.

This year, as with a few before it, I'm going through the holiday season solo. As most can imagine, in the past this has not been my favorite time of the year. Don't get me wrong, I love my family. We're the craziest, funniest, most honest, and the most loving people I know (I say that with not an ounce of bias. LOL), but I always cringe at the idea that somewhere along the way the question of ,"Pumpkin, what are you waiting on?" will come up and become the topic of conversation while everyone talks about me like I'm not in the room. I'm pretty certain I'm being a bit dramatic, but the thought of being the single cousin, sister, friend, or auntie while the majority of the women I know are well on their way at times made me feel like I'd been thrown into the outcast role like Quasimodo from the Hunchback of Notre Dame, (Cinderella would have been a more fitting reference). The weird thing is that I generally don't feel this way during the other ten months of the year. Although I miss  the intimacy of having that one on one bond with someone from time to time, that sense would only become heightened during the last two months of the calendar year.

So as the clock approaches 3:30am on Thanksgiving morning and most of my female peers are in their kitchens prepping their turkeys and finishing up on their side dishes and deserts, I'm lying in bed typing and looking forward to what my Thanksgiving day will be. First, I'm excited about the idea of volunteering in a soup kitchen tomorrow! I've donated money, food, and clothing to different causes in the past. I'm even a Big Sister of America. There's something about a person though, that takes the time out on what most people consider to be the most intimate days of the year, to help someone you don't know. I admire that. I decided that this year as a single woman I wanted to start my own tradition and that regardless of whether or not I'm with someone going forward that it's a tradition I'd like to continue for at least one of the holidays on a yearly basis. I have so much to be thankful for, and although it may not seem like much, I get no greater feeling than knowing that I've been a blessing to someone without the expectation of anything in return.

I also intend to cook. PAUSE. I'm dieting now and refraining from most of the foods I love, (GOD give me strength in these next few hours). I also have a dress that I bought a size too small that I need to be able to fit into in a few days. BUT, I decided that I need to take the initiative in hosting holiday events. I'm the queen of planning soirees and I've decided that for Christmas I'm going to plan a shindig for my close family and friends just to prove, to them but more to myself, that we single girls can do it too! I rock in the kitchen and I love entertaining so why not?!?! Food, family, friends, football (wait, there are no NFL games on Christmas), and fun sounds like the perfect day! Besides, I'm getting rusty and I need the practice!

I also intend to spend a part of my long weekend working on this blog!!! I have this vision of what I want it to be! I've been doing work behind the scenes and making connections so it's time to make those things come to fruition. I'm excited about the contacts I've been making and I relish in the positive things that people say after reading my posts. It makes me proud because I'm sharing a piece of me with you and I love that there are people out there who not only enjoy it, but that also relate to it and can take pieces of me where they go. I also love that so many guys have been willing to be featured in the "Bonjour Monsieur" section of the blog as a guy of the week. Not only growing my readership, but also assisting in my thoughts that maybe, quite possibly I might just assist in a love connection or a strong like connection at the least! It's also great to see so many people heading their own businesses and looking forward to partnering with me to have their businesses posted on the "Dash of Sass" portion of the blog! I love it!

Outside of my job as a GM with a hotel chain, I'm engaged in two other businesses. There's a not for profit that I'm a co-founder of and another for profit venture that I've just begun that I'm extremely excited about. I've been spreading myself thin for the past few weeks and the idea that I have four days to concentrate on all things getting me to an early retirement has me jumping for joy!

So as the yawns start coming more frequently and I prepare to get a few hours of shut eye before either my dog or my alarm wakes me up, I'm reflecting on all the things I'm thankful for. I have a great base of family and friends who walk with me every step of the way ensuring that I'm never alone. I have a job that exceeds all of my needs and enough passion and a plan to make things happen. I have my health and after burning a few pounds I'll make some man wanna slap his momma when I shimmy into that too small dress. Most of all, I have my faith in GOD and the wherewithal to know that it's bigger than me. I may be single but it's a state and not a curse and I can't think of one reason that I should feel any less blessed and thankful than the next...  Later on today I intend to serve a few people, who if not for the efforts of some organizations, wouldn't have any options for a Thanksgiving meal. Afterwards I intend to share stories, catch up on current events, talk about that family member that works my last nerve, ask a million questions during the football game, and laugh so much it hurts with my family and friends. If time permits, I may even schedule a date or two for this weekend. Whatever the case, I intend to spend my weekend and more of my time being thankful and happily single after...

GOD Bless you, your family, and your friends. Happy Thanksgiving!

Phenomenal Woman, That's Me...

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them
They think I'm telling lies
I say
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips
The stride of my step
The curl of my lips
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me...-Maya Angelou



If I'd been able to have a conversation with GOD prior to being born and He'd asked me what I'd wanted to come into this world as, I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. I love being a woman. There's an unspoken strength in all that we are. Mother, wife, sister, aunt, friend are some of the titles we hold but there's something about that word woman that makes me hold my head a little higher... I love every ounce of it. I love who I am and what I'm becoming even more...

I had a great childhood and upbringing but I was a little slow with discovering and fine tuning the team of me. I got off to a pretty rocky start. I grew up the oldest of six girls and let me say it took me a while to find my rhythm. I was what most would call a late bloomer. I remember being twelve years old and standing at about five feet eight inches. At that point most of my girlfriends had graduated from training bras and were making the smooth transition into A and B cup bras. Aunt Dot had long since visited them and they were fighting to keep the boys away. Not for me though, puberty apparently had called out sick on the day that she was supposed to stop by my house and had made up the hours by giving my dose of feminity to one of my friends. I was pretty certain of this because a few of them definitely had been given too generous a dosage and all I wanted was for Miss Puberty to own up to her mistake and give me what was rightfully mine.

And boys... forget about it! My first "relationship" started in the fourth grade. I'll omit his name but I think I won him over because he was painfully shy and couldn't build up the nerve to talk to any of the other girls and because I was at least three or four inches inches taller than him and and at least twenty pounds bigger.We were absolutely smitten with each other. He played in a baseball league at the recreation park across the street from my childhood home. I vividly remember my girlfriends and I going over to the park in the late afternoons after school to watch his games. In that park is where I had my very first kiss. Well maybe the second but this was the first that didn't stem out of the simple curiosity of kissing a boy or didn't result in a spanking from my mom after one of my male cousins decided to tell her what he'd witnessed. I remember me bending down and going in for the kiss. Our lips briefly met, he smiled, and I turned around and ran home without ever uttering a word. My friends teased me about that day in the park and how I'd fled for a while but I was on cloud nine. I had been lagging behind and I'd fnally crossed over into the "I kissed a boy territory". I was official. We spent the rest of the school year in bliss and spent the summer talking on the phone and writing letters even though he lived less than a mile away. It was summer and with no school and no baseball summer league, we didn't have much of an opportunity to see one another. When fifth grade rolled around one of the more aggressive girls sank her teeth into my beau and he happily obliged and went her way. I always hoped that he'd come back but eventually his dad decided to move the family to the next town over and he and what we'd shared became a fleeting memory.

I spent the next few years in my books. There was a reading program that most schools had begun implementng called Book-It that encouraged children to read by giving them a free coupon for a personal pan pizza for every three books they read. It was a marriage of my two favorite pastimes, reading and eating. My parents and I made many trips to the local Pizza Hut to get my free pizza. No one thought much of it, most kids had to be forced to read. I did it because I loved reading and because I knew there was a cheesy pizza that I could eat in front of my sisters that I'd be able to taunt them with by saying that it was mine and mine alone. Around this period is when I first noticed the guy that would take up most of my thoughts towards the opposite sex through my sophomore year of high school. He was the most handsome boy I'd ever seen... We'll call him "Quincy" because I'd be doing the adoration I had for him no justice if I didn't give him a name. He was tall, thin as a rail, of caramel complexion, and had the most beautiful head of hair that I'd ever seen on a man. He was older than I was and was a cousin of my close friends, (who were mostly all related), so we incidently ran in similar circles. He hung out with their older brothers and it just so happened that my next door neighbor was his best friend. Even after he and his parents moved down the street to the next town I always had an opportunity to see him. I spent many a day from the age of ten years old until I was fifteen pining for "Quincy's" attention. Nothing ever worked. He knew I liked him, after awhile there wasn't anyone that didn't know it. Although, he sometimes flirted with the idea I simply wasn't his type. At that age boys weren't really concerned about what was below the surface. A pretty face and a slim figure was KING and my three book a week pizza habit hadn't done much to help.

In my freshman year of high school, a year before my parents packed the family up and moved us out of the town I'd done the majority of my growing up in, they made the decision to take me out of the public high school I was attending to transfer me to a regional all girls Catholic school. I had become somewhat of a nuisance. My need to fit in had caused me to become a disrupton in most of my classes even though I still performed really well in most of my subjects. The straw that broke the camel's back for my mom was the makings of what the police later labeled a riot that I ended up inciting, (all the police's words), on the way home from school.It occurred right near city hall, might I add, in October of my freshman year. The situation ended with me being given a free ride to the local police department and a week spent picking up trash in the city park. My parents had had enough  of my shenanigans and felt that a change in my environment as well as a "you're grounded until your dead punishment" would work for me. To this day I say  that decision was the best decision that my parents ever made for me. I spent only a year in my Catholic school because like I'd said before, my family moved to south Jersey in search of our first home, but it was the year that turned everything around. I began to discover who the real Rolanda was. Up until that point, I'd never realized that she'd been hidden. The pressures of how I looked, boys, and trying to figure out where I fit in were now obsolete. These people didn't know me and my school wasn't coed. I could decide who I wanted to be there and that's exactly what I went about to doing...

Fast forward seventeen years to present day and I'm still learning about myself on a daily basis. I have my moments but I can say that even before I knew who I was I knew what I wanted to become. Two more high schools followed after my family's move and through the transitions I discovered my self confidence, sense of humor and my outspokeness. I never waited for an opportunity to present itself. Attending four different high schools taught me that. You have to be able to seize the moment and in some cases create opportunities. It was the easiest way to make friends and to excel in whatever challenges I faced. When Miss Puberty finally realized her error she made up for it by being generous with me too. My body trimmed down in certain areas and grew in others and the boys finally started to notice,(in my adult life "Quincy" noticed too but we'll save that story for another time). My three book a week habit began to pay off as well having caused my brain to become like a sponge always absorbing information and being able to dissimenate it at a moment's notice. To this day I still sometimes wish for the pizza delivery guy to show up at my door after I've read a few books.

As I get older my senses become keener. I become more in touch with myself as a woman. I find myself seeing past my physical flaws and being in awe of the color and smoothness of my skin or the roundness of my hips or simply how after a shower when I'm in my most natural state I feel my sexiest and most powerful. I love that regardless of what I've experienced my ability to love has never been jaded. I'm so optimistic about what I'll one day be to someone and what he'll one day be to me and the life that we'll one day build. I'm setting professional, philanthropic, and financial goals for my life and I see myself drawing closer to them every day. My faith continuously grows stronger and I pray daily, among other things,  for wisdom, patience, discernment, and peace. I'm creating my legacy and that excites me more than anything. I'm sometimes mystified by myself and the capacity in which my brain operates. I do my best to be a great daughter, sister, aunt, niece, cousin, and friend. More important than anything else, I'm focused on being an extraordinary woman and I don't want to limit myself to the confines of what society and/or anyone expects of me. I dream and think so big sometimes that I overwhelm myself and there are days when I feel like there isn't enough time to get it all done. I want to be strong enough in who I am to be able to successfully fulfill all the other roles I'm destined to play in my lifetime.This blog is just another part of my journey. I encourage everyone reading this to take the time to first find out who you really are outside of all the roles you play in people's lives. Find out who you are to you! That's probably the most important role one can ever play. You can't sufficiently be anything to anyone else until you know who you are to yourself. So day by day, piece by piece, I'm building me and what an extraordinary me and woman I will be... Take note.

Mirror, Mirror On The Wall...

“A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.” - Unknown

Sunday was a funky day for me. I'd returned home after being away for five days and the silence that greeted me in my apartment seemed deafening. I'd needed to drown out the thoughts in my head and the solace of my apartment only reminded me of why I'd left with just my dog Titus and the clothing on my back a few days prior in the first place. I didn't want to think. I wanted to laugh with the people I love, listen to my favorite music, watch every rerun of RHOA, eat an unlimited supply of ice cream sandwiches, and simply drown out all the thoughts that were swirling through my head. I've never been into astrology but someone recently told me that I'm a typical virgo and I'm finding this to be somewhat true. I think too damn much! But I digress...

I just got out of a "situation"... Yeah, that's what we'll call it because I don't know that anything else would suit it. I'm still debating how I feel... Sitting in the quiet of my bedroom only brings the thoughts that I'd spent five days suppressing right back to the forefront of my brain... Did I push too hard? Was he willing to give too little? Whatever the case, I'm here and I don't want to deal with it... I ask GOD to throw me a life vest to save me from the sea that is my thoughts... And then I remember the missed call I'd received the day before. The one from the number I didn't know. Something tells me it's my sisterfriend Rachele. I haven't spoken to her since May and I'm pretty certain that she's trying to get in touch with me. Over the years we've gotten busy with life but when we talk or are together, it's like we never missed a beat. I call her because something tells me that she'll be able to talk me thru my mess...

We exchange the normal pleasantries. She catches me up on the events of her life as a wife and a mother. I tell her about my new nieces. We share the commonality that we both feel unfulfilled, unhappy, and unraveled in our professional lives and that we know GOD is simply waiting for us to take the steps necessary to fulfill the purposes for our lives. She's further along than I am and she encourages me. Eventually we get to the part about my latest "situation". I don't go into details. There really isn't a need for it. He wasn't perfect, but I know what it is about me that caused the "situation" to go left. She knows too.

She proceeds to hold the mirror up in front of me. The mirror that only the people closest to you can hold. She tells me the truth. I'm an idealist. In almost every aspect of my life. Now there's nothing wrong with that if we possess an even balance. But I allow my idealistic beliefs to override what's real sometimes. In my head there is a script that details the way things should go. If there's any deviation from that script I panic. I expect that things will just effortlessly fall ito place. She tells me to throw that script away!!! She reminds me that life isn't a fairy tale. She makes light of things. Says that I'm the only girl she knows that will walk into a store, see a dress I love, and buy one that fits now and another two sizes too small that will fit later. She laughs. I laugh even harder because I know it's true! My closet is bursting at the seams for this very reason. She tells me that's the idealism in me. She's right. I don't know what my "situation" could've ever been. I do know that all my poking, prodding,and complaining didn't help. I know that I have to learn to take things as they come and that I have to learn to accept people, specifically men, for who they are or simply learn to walk away. I know that I have to learn to let go and go with the flow and that not every moment can be planned. Oh! How life would be so simple if we could Mr. Potato Head the men we encounter. But we can't... I ask her where the hell she was months ago when I was still in my "situation! I breathe a little easier. This is why after having only spent a year in my third high school, I was able to make a lifelong friend. She gets me. We laugh some more and promise to do better at keeping in touch. I hang up and though the thoughts have slowed down the sting hasn't completely subsided. I remember that life isn't a fairy tale and that no amount of pixie dust will instantly quell the way I feel. I know that albeit at the expense of my feelings, I've learned a valuable lesson.

I pull my laundry basket from my closet, readying myself to sort a few loads. I've got a job that I don't love but that pays the bills to return to tomorrow. I'm thankful for my mirror experience. Something tells me I'm gonna be just fine. It's the idealist in me...

Eenie Meenie Miney Moe..

"I've been on so many blind dates, I should get a free dog." -Whitney M. Young Jr.

Dating has always been a difficult notion for me. The concept of having a black book full of men that I can call at a moment's notice has never been an idea that my brain has easily been able to wrap itself around. In my mind, I've always hoped that I'd meet a man, he wouldn't be able to get his fill of me, and we'd seamlessly make the transition from easy friends to easy lovers. Recently, it became obvious that I was the last person to get the memo that this is not really the way it happens. Don't judge me. I've just always been the kind of girl that envisions pouring all my love, giving all my support, and being the softest place on earth for one man. What I hadn't quite worked out in my head is all the steps that come before that.

So imagine the epiphany I had as I was perusing my news feed on Facebook a few days ago and ran across this status from popular radio host Michael Baisden:

What can women learn from men? Dating is a process of elimination, so date more often and keep it moving. Don’t get too emotionally involved. Don’t try to get everything out of one person. And most important of all, keep your options open!

Now I'm not really a dramatic person, but that stopped me in my tracks. Could it be that I, like too many women, had it all wrong? How many times had I been quick to give one of my male friends the side eye or label him some philandering title because he kept an iPhone full of women. Could Steve Harvey have been right when he said "act like a lady, think like a man"?

I think it's safe to say that for too long a lot of we women have viewed dating as a one way street to a serious relationship, while most men have viewed it as a freeway with numerous exits, entrances, rest stops, toll booths, and your occasional sleazy motel along the way. I'm guilty of it. I meet a man who I'm somewhat interested in and I get tunnel vision. Somewhere along the way, things don't quite go the way I hoped and I'm left realizing that the fine man that I'd previously met in the produce aisle at the grocery store or the one I'd met on one of my nightly excursions to the 24hour drug store have long since moved on because they got tired of planning dates I would break or making calls that I wouldn't return. And I call myself a multitasker...

We have to view dating for exactly what it is, and I hate to say it but I think that our male counterparts have it somewhat right. Dating is an opportunity to meet, evaluate, learn from, and be entertained by different people. We don't go to a department store and buy the very first dress we try on. Why make this critical mistake when dealing with men? I was prepping for a night out with the girls recently and bought five dresses. I pondered over over which dress to wear for the entire week and finally made my decision on the day of the event. After careful consideration, I took four of them back. I'd never actually thought to do this when it came to men. Putting all our eggs in one basket, too often, ends up being a risk not worth taking. We don't take the time to enjoy the company of different men. We put too much stock into the first one that makes us feel right and never give ourselves the opportunity to quite compare the differences in the men in our lives to determine what we really want and need. It really is a process of elimination. A healthy dating life should consists of a few suitors, (never anywhere did I say you should be sleeping with these men. TAKE HEED). We should be going out on numerous dates and determining what qualities we want and desire in the man we hope to end up with. This also ensures that we don't get too attached to any one man. One man may teach you a great lesson or expose you to some new exciting experience and simply be ready to move on. In the words of a guy I recently dated, "that's life". Everyone we meet is not destined to be in our lives forever.

At the ripe old age of 31, (sarcasm), I make it a point to let men know that I am not interested in playing any games. Going forward I'll be telling them that I'm not interested in rushing into anything too quickly. I'd like to be able to spend some time smelling the roses and I may decide that I'd like to go from bush to bush while doing so, (there'll be no drawing of honey, of course). Who knows, in the end, I may meet a great guy and if I'm lucky, I'll have enjoyed a lot of free meals along the way.

We Are Living... SINGLE!!

As a single woman I'm learning that my happily ever after doesn't have to begin when I meet him. It begins when I let go of all of my preconceived notions and allow it to begin... -Me


I suppose this is as good a place as any to begin. I never quite imagined I'd find myself here: Thirty-one, single, no children, and not a suitor I'd care to mention in sight. Nope, not exactly what I'd envisioned. As little girls we're groomed to believe that when we grow up our knight in shining armor will find us, sweep us off our feet, and gladly give us his last name. In more cases than one, my knight in shining armor turned out to be some fool in tin foil, he was only willing to sweep me off my feet to place me in his bed, and in one case I met the woman and children who already carried his last name!

Now don't get me wrong, I've definitely learned some valuable lessons about myself and my choices along the way. I'd only be fooling myself if I didn't take some of the blame. There was the "bad boy" phase, and the "unattainable man" phase (I don't care to elaborate), and the "I can fix him" phase. Most recently it's been the "I met him online" phase (the jury is still out on this one). Either way, I have to say that I've played an intricate role in my current state of singledom.

Then there was "The List". He had to be tall, at least 6'3, after all, I'm 5'11 and love wearing heels (I refuse to bend on this). He had to have a career, preferably no children, be of caramel complexion, have a decent FICO score, have nice teeth, have a nice wardrobe that didn't consist of just sneakers and shirts with pictures and/or obscene logos,, he had to be a great lover, he had to be in shape, he had to be well groomed with regular haircuts and facial hair, he had to be funny, he had to have a checking and a savings account, he had to have a love for GOD (I won't bend on this either), have his own place at his own address, he had to love his momma, and he couldn't be younger than twenty-nine or older than thirty-five. As I've matured and stepped out a bit I realize that I've definitely passed up on some good opportunities because of my list. My mom and sisters have more than once admonished me for the disappearance of a nice guy who they'd decided could possibly be "the one" but that I'd decided hadn't met enough of the requirements on my lists. I'd simply find some way to explain that we were better off as friends and end up right back at square numero uno. My belief has pretty much been that just because he's nice doesn't mean that he's nice for me and that if I didn't feel butterflies, more than likely, that meant that the chemistry was simply not there. The more I think about it and the more men I meet, I realize that being nice is a start. No, it doesn't mean that he's the guy for me, but it's a great place to build from. I've also learned not to trust those butterflies. They always seem to flutter most with the guys that I should have steered clear of and I'm starting to believe that they can be better attributed to some form of gas or warning sign that my body is sending to advise me to drop everything as quickly as I can and to run in the opposite direction.

There's no excuse really. I grew up in a two parent home with parents, who like any other had their issues, but remained together and provided a sense of stability for my sisters and I. Since my mom remarried when I was young, I'd say I was blessed to end up with two fathers in my life who have been great examples of what a man should be. I guess it's simply been the way I've played my hand. I'm not complaining by any means. Where most of my married girlfriends have a fund for the kids' extracurricular activities, I have a shoe fund, a vacation fund, and a "I work hard and I deserve it" fund. Still, questions like, "Do I want to buy my first home on my own?" or "What's the expiration date on my eggs?" plague me from time to time.

So, in the meantime, I try to busy myself with me. I'm returning to school to finish my bachelor's in the spring. My sister, my girlfriend (she's single too), and I are starting a not for profit networking/educational organization called Sassy Sisters Inc., and I've taken up to writing this blog. I guess my hope is to kind of give people a peek into what the life of a single woman is really like. I get the questions all the time,Why are you single?" or , "You're too cute to be by your lonesome,why hasn't some man snatched you up?!" or my favorite, "What are you waiting on to have some babies, girl?!" I'm hoping that as I allow you in, I'll better understand some things about myself that will prepare me for what hopefully lies ahead. For now, I'm doing my best to savor the moments and enjoy the adventures and misadventures of a sassy, smart, sexy, 30something singlista.