Mama Say Mammasa Mama Cusa

Scientists say watermelon has ingredients that deliver Viagra-like effects to the body’s blood vessels and may even increase libido.

Despite an extensive search, nothing on the Internet could tell me what the hell “Mama Say Mammasa Mama Cusa”means. My brother threw it out there as a phrase to summarize the collective happenings in our personal lives right now, and whatever it means, it felt exactly right. Especially with the world-weary intonation he used to dole that out. Now you’re going to be chanting it in the back of your head for the rest of the day.

The truth is, I don’t know if I wanna be startin’ somethin’. I feel like it makes more sense to concentrate on working off my travels, and setting up my home, but the universe keeps throwing me curve balls. The attractive, interesting kind, and in true Schnooie fashion, I feel remiss to resist. I could take the proffered phone number or email address, and politely explain that I’m taking a hiatus from dating, but where the hell is the fun in that? And how would that work anyway? When I decide that I’m fierce enough again to handle the perils of male/female relations, I dust off the business cards or slips of paper and make a “Hey, do you remember me” phone call?

How does one know when the time is right to get out in the dating world again? A friend of mine stoically opined “You’ll just know. It will just happen.”
Despite her Yoda-like wisdom, I was still left confused.
She also said “There are more important things to focus on than relationships.”

Really? There are? I’m the most ridiculous romantic that I know. I’m hard-pressed to think up what those other things might be. I mean, I have a clear focus on maintaining my friendships, and I’ve managed to gain back my work focus. Maybe she means the creation of art. That one could use a little work, for sure.

Perhaps rather than going out on dates, I will lock myself up in this garret and write and dream and create some sort of masterpiece. I’m not without inspiration, that’s for sure. I could pour myself into an idea I’ve had for some time, and see what it turns into. Or I could write the next great piece of Chick Lit. Hmm….maybe I should use my dating misadventures to write the next great piece (I think this is an oxymoron) of Chick Lit.

Listen, I think I just heard my business card being torn up.

You’re A Vegetable, You’re A Vegetable
Still They Hate You, You’re A Vegetable
You’re Just A Buffet, You’re A Vegetable
They Eat Off Of You, You’re A Vegetable

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