Jacked Up Wisdom


Long story here, short story now.

Lower left hand (not lower stage left. As in, lower left hand like the hand I don’t use to write) wisdom tooth has been coming in super slow for years. Decides one steamy July eve to begin what I can only call “bumpin”. As in aches, throbs, irritations, and the kind of you-know-what that makes me want to rip it out myself. It’s just one, not all four. The one on the right has been cutting too, but the left one has been the cutter with mild teething irritation for years in my late 20s.

So yeah, pain upgrades and I go see a dentist. Not my first, but the one who says “all four come out” vs “let’s see how it goes”. At the time of “Let’s see”, I was 28 and it wasn’t bothering me. I am 30, have an appointment on the 8th for gas and removal, and I’ve been taking two 650 mg pain killers every 5-7 hours since two weeks ago. I’m trading that in for soft food, upright sleep, and PLEASE PLEASE SOMETHING ABOVE 650 MG. Vicodin, yes?

None are infected or impacted, so that’s good.

I was already broke, but now I’m going to be even more broke, and called myself posting a fundraiser to help with the cost of my limited food regimen and medical apparatus I need, but people are better at signal boosting than…helping. Which is better than no boosts at all, and none of them owe me, but I’m seriously about to be out of 1 to 2k of bucks of money I already don’t have. Scared ain’t the half of it.

…From a Boomer to a Millennial, About Marriage

So while my body has been jolting me awake at 4AM to rinse and repeat the song and dance of food and pill, my brain has been mulling over this super sexist idea my dad came up with/believes about women who are unmarried at a certain age. I’m 30, past my 20s, and probably looking into my crazy cat lady and poetry life as we speak, so it GOT to me. I’m also a liberated womanist, so it DOUBLY got to me, because my “All-American Raised” dad has this idea that any woman over 40 who isn’t married/has never been married has something wrong with her.


I get it. He was born in 1953 like a day after Lucille Ball’s son. So this whole idea of motherhood, wifehood, home maker-hood, and any other hood you can throw has been hard-wired into his head. For crap’s sake, digital media and digital apparatus have been singed into mine since the late 80’s, and Nintendo and Sony could wipe me clean if selling organs got me games. I get it. All generations have their….thing.


I get into this (respectable) debate with him about it all the time. I’M not married. With my luck with men and women, I might not even have a life partner. So what is he saying about MY potential future as a single woman? Some people don’t want to get married. Some people just…never do. There’s nothing wrong with them. A lot of people also have attitude problems that carry over, no matter WHAT kind of relationship they’re in. But the human experience shouldn’t be dwindled down and demeaned into this…thing where not being married–and this is usually geared at women–is a huge red flag.

He always refers to my cousin and her friend, his ex. And yes they are both the most flashy cops you’ll ever meet in Chicago, but they are also on their own terms sexually and relationship wise. My cousin’s friend wasn’t a match for dad because she likes to spend more than she makes. Which is…her problem, not his. My cousin is on an adjacent boat, but her “problem” is that she doesn’t keep a man “or know how to”, and I’m like….


What if she doesn’t want to? What if she has seen what marriage is like/can be, and decided that having fun is better than the risk?

What I hate is that dad is all “do you want to die alone”, and of course nobody does. But if marriage isn’t a part of my future, would you rather I force it? I could still be married and end up alone. I really don’t think there is anything wrong with being unmarried or just having a partner. And that’s not necessarily a “Millennial thing”. I’m tired of THAT, too. Everything free and liberal has to be “our thing” because we don’t follow the rules, like the Gex X folks followed all of them.

I guess it makes me mad/upset because it makes me feel like yeah, there is something wrong with me if I never get married. That all the things people like about me don’t mean anything, and that there is, again, this force that won’t allow closeness of any kind. I would be the exception in my dad’s eyes because I’m young (ish), and his kid. Yet facing all my old school friends and internet friends who ARE with someone, the idea of “something is wrong” is already there. Hearing it from a figure I admire just….makes it worse.

But then again he could be internally worried. He’s a Capricorn. Having him admit anything means it really bothers him or it’s a midnight hour deal. Considering how he feels about wanting grandkids and acting super weird when I tell him about the dating pool and relationships in this age, he’s probably beyond worried.

I guess I’m not worried enough?

The crippling embarrassment, moist poetry, and sadness usually cover it well.


…About the Internet

Rule of  thumb, feed ye not the trolls.


Another rule: Feed ye not the snooty asshole in the comment section of BuzzFeed’s video about whitewashing, because he’s a picky, irritating, smart ass purist. They’re everywhere and they know everything. Spare yourself the….everything. Mute notifications despite the maddening urge and the shaky hands.

Rinse and repeat, try not to get into a flame war at the age of 30. It’s bad. It’s on your Internet permanent record. You are NOT going to get published. You’d think after years and years of pushy boys on the adult swim forums, the cheezeburger political section, and YouTube in its early days, I would learn? Yeah.

Deepest sighs.


No Love, Marriage, or Baby.

Parents and family have this way of looking at you that the world does not. I wonder if they realize this? They’ve known me for 30 years–all of them. So they know the good stuff, the even better stuff, and the embarrassing tidbits best thrown in the fire. They know it all as they see it, but not the world. The world sees me differently. You know, I learned this at an early age. I keep learning about it, despite all these messages about everyone being beautiful in their own way on top of it. To make matters slightly worse, I’ve got a dad who wants grandkids, a paternal aunt who wonders why none of us Millennial-generation intermediate fam have any, and both of them “wondering why I haven’t found someone yet”, as if it’s so easy.

When my dad said to me “you should flirt more”, I said to myself “to whom, and how?!”

Yesterday he said this. I’m on the floor, holding my cell to my ear, playing with my Chinese Zodiac carved figurine just thinking to myself how that would go. I am a pear-shaped, bear-sized woman with poofy hair and a wide-set baby face. Romantic prospects come and go. Crushes crash and burn faster than I can redial to tell them how I feel. Attention is short-lived, and to be honest–sometimes people just would much rather have an ego boost/second mother than an actual partner.

I almost want to tell both of these nutty boomers that this is not the 70’s. Finding a partner these days is so complicated. Not because of hookups or anything like that–we all know that’s a part of any scene at any time–but it’s hard to find a compatible person to be satisfied with. I don’t want a perfect person. I don’t need that. But for me, personally– I can’t relate to all these other people who are cute enough to date and get laid. People just…drop me.

Or forget me.

Or go back to their exes.

Or come through whenever the people higher on their list/SIM Card won’t pay attention.

Or lowkey like me, but can’t highkey adore me for whatever reason.

When they need a mothering loser, who are they coming for? Veronica Rochelle.

I have had people say they love me and they’re coming for me. I have had people say they want to get to know me on a metaphysical level. In a naughtier space, I have been told they were fans, but actions make it seem so…untrue? I have heard a lot, and seen so little.

So let me be honest here–the man I wanted to be with didn’t want to be with me. The man I wanted a life with is probably very happy, very married/taken, and has forgotten about the young asshole I used to be, and never got the chance to meet the older…sorta okayish person I turned out to be. HE was what I wanted, but it just wasn’t meant to be. So, okay I can accept that. Time to move on.

I’ve….been ready to for years. And I can feel it when people avoid me. You know? That sounds like such an odd thing to say. But it almost feels like all the parts of my life that I want to happen tend to reach out to other people I know. And who knows how they met that person? I go places and nothing really comes of it. I probably doomed myself by moving to this town full of married, young, or old people–despite claims that “big girls get lots of love here.”



And that’s also another problem. Granted a certain leg of my work tends to deal with big girl admiration and appreciation, I would like to have a life outside of that where I can be found beautiful not for my size, but because somebody sees something they would like to become a part of–not for simple one sided pleasure alone–but the kind of healthy partnership where love can flourish, and a life can progress.

Maybe that’s asking for the moon.

Yet I can feel the creeping sadness inside of me because of my family. I wasn’t put on this earth just to perpetuate the bloodline, but I almost feel like when they say “it would be nice”, that it’s almost my only purpose, SECOND to finally graduating college. And on top of that, I might have fertility issues that could make it impossible to have kids. I just find all of this to be so much, and rather painful.

Do these folks think I’m satisfied being alone? Do they think that I don’t hear what they say about women who’ve never been married? Then I reveal these fears, and you know what they say? “You’re just in your early 30s.”

But at the same time, the clock is ticking, right?

Can we make up our minds about this? Can we realize that the so called catch they see could just be unattractive trash to the rest of this world? The cheese has been standing alone for a while now, dipping in and out of relationships, Internet monstrosities, fwb that just fall off quietly, and a host of other short-term messes that make things seem impossible. These people–my family–have these expectations that seem pressure-free, but really make me feel like something is wrong with me.

Okay, you want grand kids. You want a great-niece or nephew. Where am I getting this baby from? Who do I have to get with to make this happen? Who’s paying for these expensive children? There are people who “love” the concept of Roni, but don’t “love” the concept of her. Even with this ol’ vulnerable bear heart, there are no open hands waiting to care for it. I may be used to being alone, untouched by lack of social activity, but it doesn’t mean I like any part of it.

Where do I even go to find someone who isn’t just trying to stick something in me before remembering my name, anyway? Dating sites have just become this cesspool of lust, and I dance between wanting the lust and a real connection. As I get older, I feel like I am leaning closer to the connection. I am tired of disconnection. I am tired of nervous handshakes saying “nice to meet you”, when in fact it’s really not.

They say that some people are meant to be alone, and I think I put up a good front of acting like I’m okay with that, sometimes. Just to stop myself from having any hopes about love. People say stop looking and it will come to you. That’s how I met…you know. And I talk about him a lot but I guess that’s because he was as close as I really got to getting what I wanted. Navigating the waters after him just….resulted in the boat sinking.

I was never good at meeting people, you know? My teen years weren’t full of dates either. I have never been cute or approachable. Ever. It’s also weird because I do identify as Bisexual, but most women (save for like..this one really adorable young lady) don’t want me either lol. This is a unisex and non-gender binary event. It’s other people, it’s me, and this hopeless fiasco of just trying to find somebody really nice.

Parents make this seems so easy, and look at you like you’re crazy when you give them the breakdown of why it’s not so hard. Nice people who could be in mutual liking and attraction with are not falling from the sky. They are not just walking up to your door with flowers, candy, and tickets to that thing you like. Parents, for some reason, just can’t understand that we are not children nervously walking into the box social for the first time. This is not the ice cream social, and little Billy Stevenson isn’t trying to share his pineapple sundae with Miss Veronica Rochelle.


I wish I could show both of these people the heartache and sadness about all this dating and romance stuff. How hard it is to see people gushing about dates and great sex and engagements and new babies….

And you’re like….

Just living.

I do not know when my turn will be. I thought I would know, and 24 is long gone, and the timeline has been shot to you-know-what since that time.

Somebody–two somebodies say “he is coming”.

And I don’t want to be that girl who sits at the front door staring and staring–but there is  a section of me that just wishes he were here already. That we could go for walks already. That we could have weekend plans already. That we could eat really bad food together, laugh about our pasts together, and connect.

When I connect with human beings, I feel rays of energy and the touch of warm skin. I feel like we are hooked together, and that tender moments don’t have to mean anything…or could mean the entire world. I have felt this way about lots of my friends online. Like, nothing sexual just human contact is nice. A hug, a friendly kiss on the forehead. But you can’t tell people you want to hold them or hold their hands without it getting weird. I don’t want to weird people out–just give affection.

That’s all I ever want to do.

Not be in empty relationships.

We can never avoid heartbreak, but I just miss connecting with someone.

In a world where none of us are sure, social pressure is on our backs, debt is an ugly thing, and the fear to let go is very here and now…I guess there are a lot of us who aren’t with someone. Or seeing someone. Or…humping someone. If it were as easy as these elders think it is/was/should be, I’d have 10 kids and that cat I want by now.

I dunno.

I repel people quite often, so….