Contemplating … Krazy Kat “Advantures”

What the H***! Krazy Kat Advantures?!? Yes, you read that right … No need to adjust your screen or wipe the dust from your spectacles.  I am contemplating living life minimally and off-grid in a metal box with wheels.  Allow me to rephrase that … my southern ethnic ass is really thinking about living full-time in a pimped out cargo van. You can thank my friend, a military veteran, for the idea. Several months ago, she sent me a stream of youtube videos (see a few below) with a text (and, I honestly read it in her voice) … “girl, you need to watch this.” Ever since that day, I’ve been hooked on #vanlife. Negative Nancy will no longer haunt me … Nomad Nathaniel saves me while flying around in a cape crafted with baby wipes and treading about in thigh high hiking boots. Haha!

But, why live in a van? You may ask. Why not? I’ve had my share of living and partially owning (you’re the lender’s biotch for 15 or 30 years) beautiful homes in the suburbs and renting apartments in the city. When I shared my idea with others, you wouldn’t believe the looks and feedback that I received. At this point in my life and at this age (41 in less than 1.5 weeks), I can only show the naysayers what they only wish or dream they could do. I’m like this, you can continue to sit up in your sticks, bricks, and/or vinyl like a prisoner not eligible for parole and I’ll travel the country in my rose gold metal/plastic box with wheels. All, with a little less stress and more dinero in my bank account. I have goals to become debt free, have at least $1,000,000 in savings, and live without limitations. Anything is possible, right? In order to bring that into fruition, I must let go of those things that truly never made me happy. One being my former husband … oh, my bad, veered off the road there for a minute. Anywho, I’m a firm believer in DREAMING BIG, THINKING BIG, and DOING BIG THINGS.

I finally want to be free and as cliche as this may sound, spread my wings and fly. Well, in this case, put the pedal to the floor and explore the unknown one mile at a time. I am so flipping excited. I can’t seem to contain my excitement. I get to shower in the wild, shit in a bucket, and wake up with a view only seen in travel mags magazines.

Stay tuned family for more … Vroom Vroom!

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WTF?!? Dating Sucks! 

Yeah, I know I said I wouldn’t use “juvenilistic” acronyms or short hand text. But, “f” it, it will be used only (can’t guarantee at this point) during this vent. What the f@&k (oops, sorry, slip of the tongue) is wrong with the world of dating? It doesn’t seem to exist anymore. Some men (and women, I might add) are only looking to hook up … “F” and go. It’s like you’re at a drive thru … you order a large penis (without the bun as you’re watching your carb intake) or a juicy fat vajayjay with a side of no emotions. What happened to dating? What happened to courting? What happened to learning, loving, and eventually gaining a life mate?

Metaphorically speaking, I’ve traveled through dungeons, caves, wild animal traps, and swung from tree to tree with Tarzan … Ha! Hell, even thought I was a part of a lost scene in Game of Thrones (Khaleesi’s aka “mother of dragons” half sister on her Father’s side). Anywho, back to my vent … I don’t even think the men I’ve encountered (on dating sites, dating apps, in real world scenarios, etc.) are from this planet … they were probably rejects from Mars. I honestly think some meteorite crashed on planet Earth and its kryptonite sucked the life out of (some) men (and women) leaving them with toddler brains. It’s so disheartening when a guy asks for nudes and/or sends you an unwarranted photo of his junk with lint balls. Wait, I must add a little more iodized salt to the womb …. I once had a guy tell me he wears lipstick and nail polish (see screenshot below). I can’t make this shit up even if I wanted to. This and a hell of a lot more usually occurs after an introductory text as phone calls are nonexistent; at least in today’s world of reckless dating. 

You know what, I’m going to sell all of my shit leaving nothing but a pair of spiked combat boots and several pair of (a female’s monthly favorites) granny panties (the ones with the holes and discoloration). This woman is heading to the nearest nunnery. 

Sigh … WTF! Dating Sucks! 

Xoxo, 

Karma Loves 

A Letter to My Suicidal Self

Dear My Darkness,

I don’t even know where to start or even know where to begin … I just don’t want you to feel that it’s your end.

I’ve heard your cries, I’ve felt the tears run down your face as they seeped through the fabric of your existence. I’ve inhaled your anger, your pain, and your exhaustion. I’ve tasted every tear (poignant in nature as it pierced through my tongue) that fell on the palate … the plate of your frame. I heard every word you screamed (until the ringing in my ears was a constant echo) the other night  … eerie and sacrilegious … “I f@@king hate you!” “I don’t want to be you anymore!”

As you stood in front of that elongated mirror the other day, you didn’t recognize your beauty, your strength, your wisdom, your hope, your freedom … But, I did. You felt as if you had lost your femininity. You felt as if your womanhood was stripped until you were unidentifiable … Until your gender was unclassified. In your eyes you were lost … You escaped from the prison of utter disappointment, the prison of a failed marriage and disintegrated relationships, the prison of jaded religions, the prison of financial ruin, the prison of another’s disorientation. And, some days you felt like a prisoner (on death row) trapped in your own body. You felt you had no where to go … Had no one to turn to .. Even felt God tuned His back on you. I traveled though the darkness with you; Even as I tried to lead you into my guiding light.

I too crave the love you one day hope for … the love that you one day inhale and undoubtedly exhale … the love that will be shared with your soul man. You yearn for the love that’ll Illuminate your heart. The heart that has lost its spark … The heart that has lost its beat … The heart that is enslaved by anger, bitterness, resentment, jealousy, despair, and even deceit.

Yes, this world is a shit storm … Loose, hard, and vile shit flying in all directions. We will not lay dormant in a pool of foul fecal matter. We will not fear the fearful … We will not surrender to the hateful … We will not incarcerate ourselves until we “dry rot.” We will not be prisoners of our own war.

We made it 38.5 years together .. let’s continue this crossing of life together … This journey of resilience and discernment. I’ll hold your hand, I’ll walk with you … I’ll wade through the river of Jordan with you.

Life is a beautiful canvas … Colorful and  limpid. We must use the brush of life and continuously paint with strokes to the left and paint with strokes to the right … there will be as many ups as there are downs. We must seek the light of a better day before darkness casts its grueling spell.

I love you … You’re my inspiration … You’re  my protector as I am yours. You’re my soul sister … You’re my spirit animal. You are a survivor … You are me as I am you.

This is our new beginning my sister … You are the love of my life.

 

*If you know someone who has lost the map of life, please reach out to them, walk with them, talk to them (not at them), lend a helping hand. I hope to reach the masses  with my letter of truth. It’s evident that in many communities, certain life elements are frowned upon and/or not discussed. We all must realize suicide is a disease (depression is the culprit). We must find a cure. Please share this letter as it could be one’s ticket to freedom.

 

Xoxo,

Your Light

Why?!? Oh, Why?!?

 

Why must I release myself from the bed of life (just added a 3 inch mattress topper to my queen size bed… enroute to cloud nine)? Why must I dig through my closet of 100 pairs of shoes (and counting) and rummage through my suitcases (don’t judge me, I foresee a trip in the near future … my passport is still a virgin and she’s more than ready to get her cherry popped) for a “meet him while out or be alone with 5 dogs in heat, 2 alley cats, 3  ‘always talking shit’ parrots, and a pet fish named Smokie” ensemble just for a dateless night out? I don’t want to go … I don’t want to be disappointed all over again. Dating (well, attempting to date) while heavily engrossed in video games (Xbox 360 is bae) and YouTube (couple/family vlogs) sucks major cow balls. I guess you can say, a sista is stuck in her ways.

They (by the way, who the hell is they?) say you won’t meet a man if you’re locked up in your room wearing oversized sweats and a crooked black girl bonnet. Why not? Prepares to reenact a random 2 year old temper tantrum on her birthday … In 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 (slowly falls to fall).

Dating has become nothing more than a race to a soiled motel room or a stranger’s sofa. This sista refuses to be a “Dine with me, F’me then Free Me type of woman.” You know, I miss those days where guys and gals “worked” hard for the first date … Remember the first time you saw his/her face and actually got butterflies before uttering the first hello, the first touch of his/her hand when he/she handed you the “digits,” and the first phone convo that lasted nearly 5 hours, but felt more like eternity. Sigh with a head shake … Why?!?Oh, Why?!? What happened? One guess … The emergence of social media and the ability to “like,” “comment,” or “DM (Direct Message)” someone anonymously. I’ve heard of men sending soft and uncircumcised penis pics and women sending dirty butt pics. Really? Like for real … I can’t deal … 

The Internet traffic is congested and it’s not going to taper off anytime soon. Travel light and be prepared/aware of potential road blocks. It’s going to be one hell of a ride, but well worth the journey … never an end always a new beginning. 

Never giving up on this thing we all call … LOVE. 

Xoxo, 

Karma Loves ❤️💋

Saturday Night Date with Netflix 

Sigh … Laying across my queen size bed wrapped in my dad’s seasoned army blanket (“dookie” green and 85% wool, scratch that, 110% wool with a few sprinkles of itching powder) watching syndicated episodes of “The Game” on Netflix. You know, I could be out at a bar watching college basketball or at a jazz club listening to smooth sounds from a cluster of instruments. I mean, the saxophone is one sensual piece of brass. Mmmm … Kenny G. comes to mind. 

Sigh … Netflix is my second best choice for self dating ideas. My first choice would be gathering up my girlfriends and having a karaoke onesie party. Cookie Monster onesie on deck! 

Hell, Netflix brings the laughter, the tears of joy or concern for humanity, and the abrupt thoughts of naughtiness once a half naked stud muffin walks across the screen (wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist accentuating those pelvic indentions … Damn). 

Sigh … Well folks, I’m being quite rude on this Saturday night date with Netflix. 

Live your life like you’ve just been discovered on the streets of Hollywood. 

XOXO,

Karma Loves 

  

  

I know when that iPhone Ring (or Bling)

Am I the only single (non-desperado by the way) woman that wishes, hopes, or dreams of waking up to her iPhone “blinging?” or hell can the shit just ring. The only humans that tend to call my phone are those loco telemarketers or some evil prankster. Oh, but wait, let me not forget the loud and obnoxious voice recordings … you know the ones that screech at a deafening 95+ decibels … “You have just won 1 million dollars” or “You have been selected to win a 10 day all inclusive cruise around the world.” 10 days around the world, really?!? Fudge you!

Thanks Drake for making my single life even more of a bad joke … goes to dial my phone number (on a land line) just to hear my iPhone ring or bling.

Ode to those hotline blingers (inserts another middle finger emoji) … haha!

Someone Somewhere …

Someone Somewhere …

If he’s out there … somewhere … he’s walking along the crowded streets of New York City inhaling the scent of “last night’s” winter storm or gazing at the streams of adverts in Time Square … or waiting to be discovered along the “Boulevard of Stars” in Cali-forn-ni-a. Maybe, just maybe, he’s stylishly exploring the sand dunes of the Dubai desert while riding a fatigued camel. Wherever, Whoever, However, Whenever … He’s somewhere … I suppose.

As I take my first steps into the year of 2016, I begin to ponder on my stagnant status … single, celibate, learning, developing … impatiently waiting and hoping for a miracle; more like a change of my own heart … I suppose.

I look up and ask God, Why not me? I look around to ask the universe, Where is he? Wherever, However, Whenever … He’s somewhere … I suppose.

I AM …

Still Fearless in LOVE  … Still Romantically Inclined … Still Waiting

 

XOXO,

Karma Loves