Monthly Archives: September 2011

Getting my GroupOn


I am a lactard. Too much milk will eventually make me feel like there are two squirrels on crack playing an intense game of volleyball in my stomach. The problem is that I love ice cream.

LOVE it.

Almost as much as I love cake. And I LOOOOOVE cake.

Cake is a gift from the gods and should be treated with the utmost respect. (Carrot and Fruit cake are abominations)

So, how do I get around my ice cream dilemma? Frozen yogurt a la Golden Spoon.

Something about the frozen yogurt keeps those pesky squirrels at bay and makes me happy so it’s a win-win.

I was staying away from Living Social and GroupOn, I just didn’t get it, until I was in the bathroom at work and felt like I was in a Groupon commercial.

“Maria, there really hasn’t been anything good on Living Social lately, has there?”
“No, but did you see that one Groupon?”

This conversation cracked me up, so when a buddy of mine shared that my beloved Golden Spoon had a Groupon available, I jumped on the bandwagon. And since I was getting my groupon, I decided to go ahead and give Living Social a try, too.

Now that I have all this extra time on my hands, I’ve started thinking about things I’ve never done and would like to try. I’ve had a bucket list for years, but the stuff I’m thinking about never crossed my mind before.

Before a certain party gave me the Cut to Black, he told me stories of when he used to own horses.

I have always been terrified of horses, but hearing him talk about them (combined with a couple other factors) inspired me to think about taking riding lessons. It was just an idea I was kicking around in my head. I assumed it would be a crazy expensive venture and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it other than I knew it was something I wanted to do.

Groupon to the rescue!

No sooner had I made the mental decision of “Yes! I WILL learn to ride a horse!” and had then wondered, “But HOW?” that Groupon made a happy little sound on my phone and the deal of the day? HORSEBACK RIDING LESSONS!

I did not have to think about it.

I went for it.

My first lesson is next Saturday.

Bright Yellow.


I am so happy to have friends like him.

I was already looking forward to a great Saturday night, alone.
I knew exactly what I was getting into and I was happy about it.

And then he walked in, wearing yellow of all colors.
Bright yellow.

Yellow is almost as cool as orange. I mean, it’s in the “colors that make Kikita happy” group after orange and red.

He’s my friend, so I think nothing of dancing with him. It’s safe and comfortable. It’s familiar and fun.
And, suddenly, it’s hot… and getting hotter.
And we’re going to bachata now, too?

The last song I remember dancing with him before he disappeared for the night (which, he’ll later admit, was because he had to go home and take a cold shower) will forever remind me of him and his bright yellow shirt.

The next night, I find out that a close friend of mine has a serious crush on him.
And that song is one of her all-time favorites.

What are the odds?

I guess I should consider myself lucky to have had that dance with him… But, really, I consider him the lucky one because he got to do a cha cha with ME.

What’s Next


It’s been a few weeks now.

Of course I still miss him.
I miss him every time I make café. And I make it every morning.

So, I need a game plan. Because I’m not going back to that.
“If I look back, I am lost.”

My motto is this:
Ni pa’ coger impulso!

Watch closely, because I’m about to change everything.

For starters, I’m not going to actively pursue any relationship until next year. March maybe.

(If someone chooses to actively pursue me, however, I’m going to be open to seeing what happens.)


Thank you, but No


Two proposals in one weekend.

That’s a little much.
ESPECIALLY when there isn’t any basis for them. No, I’m sorry, “Love at First Sight” is not a good reason to ask me to spend the rest of my life committed to you and NO, I am not prepared to have a child with you, especially if you expect it to be a son. How about we do this instead: You never call me again, ok? Good luck finding someone else. I’m sure you will. I really hope you do.

And he was a babalao, a Santeria priest. To say I was creeped out would be to put it mildly. Yes, God is bigger, but that doesn’t mean those other “gods” aren’t big. And I am not sure why they keep wanting to mess with me, but I’m not into it.

On Sunday, another babalao offered to be my sugar daddy. I  could live in his home where there would be constant parties and dancing and my job description would be: Arm Candy.

Gentlemen, you do not treat Kikita that way. She has way too much life in her to agree to be a “kept woman.”

When I wasn’t having it, he tried to pimp me out to his younger friend. (Oh, did I forget to mention this fool was probably in his 50s?)

The other proposal came from a long time friend who needed a favor. Unfortunately for him, when we stopped dating and crossed into the friend one, there would be no going back. All politics aside, I just could’t do it.

There was another guy who asked me to be his girlfriend and I gave him the same answer, “Thank you, but no.”


(Sometimes it really is difficult being so damned amazing.)

The Roxbury Twins


When one is suffering from “Freshly Single Stupidity,” there will inevitably be consequences.

Some are worse than others.

If you feel a case of FSS coming on the best thing you can do is: STEP AWAY FROM THE ALCOHOL.

Trust me, you can do stupid all by yourself.

For example, if you are out at a concert and still bummed that you’re not there with a certain special someone who is no longer so special, you may be tempted to just give your number out to … just about anyone. This is not jumping back in with both feet; this is a belly flop into an empty pool.

Now that a new stranger with the most intense eyebrows you’ve ever seen has your number, don’t you wish you remembered his name? Good thing he’s the “text first” type, because the “who is this” stuff is harder to pull off on the phone. I’m sure you really were just excited to find new people to dance with, but next time try dancing with them before you give them your number.

The good news is that you can just ignore phone calls, right? Of course, right.

The better news is that you were so happy to have new dance friends that you told them where you would be dancing a few days later and will most likely run into them.

So you suck it up and are polite. And might realize he’s not such a bad guy, this Eyebrow Man. In fact, he’s kind of funny… Perhaps a little on the short yet gangly side, but funny. And his taller, and rounder, friend is very sweet. Eyebrow Man is a better person sober. You know this because you were sober the night you met him (having learned the FSS + ALCOHOL = BAD lesson early on in life so you didn’t need to repeat that one) and he was very much not sober.

You might notice that you don’t have anyone else to hang out with and have many more hours to wait before the band you came to see is going to start. But, hey! You’ve got new dance friends and might actually enjoy their company! Now you just need to get the to dance… except, they’re eating. No problem! you’ll find other people to dance with in the meantime. You ARE quite the social butterfly, after all.

As far as your dancing goes, you’re having a magical night. One of those nights where people can’t take their eyes off of you. you are in The Zone and having too much fun to care about anything but the music.

Finally, the band starts and Laurel and Hardy (aka Eyebrow Man and friend) found me. It was crowded so it was nearly impossible to do anything but step side to side and move my hips, shoulders, whatever. It was “standing dancing” not dancing with the stars dancing. The kind of dancing that happens when you’ve chosen to be close to the stage. And that’s when I felt it.

The Bump.


And then again. *BUMP*

Like I was in a crowded store and everyone was looking for the same thing. Maybe Bump isn’t even the right word… perhaps Jostle is better.

And it happened again.

And again.

And it almost knocked me over.

To say it “threw off my groove” would be incorrect. This Bump did not throw my groove off, it launched me.

It was not with mild irritation that I turned to see who the Bumpers were. They smiled like little kids. They were so happy. They had no idea how ridiculous they looked.

In that moment, I was so sad to be there by myself. I NEEDED someone to witness this moment.
I had just been transported to the Roxbury and I was being danced with by the Roxbury Twins.

I narrowly escaped.

If I ever run into them again, I just hope there are people with me to share the Roxbury experience with.

“Not Bored” got Boring


I finally asked him if he was bored.

He wasn’t. He said that if anyone should be bored, it was me.

I asked what had happened before when he had gone radio silent. He couldn’t give me an answer.

Too bad, too. Because now, a month later, I’m having deja vu.

Saturday night: Honey, I am not going to make it tonight.

A few hours later: Hey hun, I feel like hell and have an early day tomorrow so you should probably just go home after the thing.

That was a week ago.

I’ve grown bored wondering the why behind it. So, I’m going to a concert tonight and I’m officially available again, though I have no intention of advertising that. I’m going to dance.

(And I’m going to miss him.)