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M Simone Boyd

Countdown To My Brother's Wedding

A Kiss

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A kiss, BMW

One day while walking down one of the busier streets in the city I was whining to God (of course, in the most respectful way that one can do that). Because I had been here for all of two months, and I hadn’t met my husband yet.

 

I mean, Gee Whiz, I says to myself. “I know that’s why You brought me here, because Juan (my ex-boyfriend) just dumped me and I know you brought me here to meet someone better. And that’ll fix Juan, God, we’ll show him won’t we? But, why are you taking SOOOO long. I mean, God, I haven’t met one single guy that loves You. Are you sure that you know what your are doing? I mean I know You know what you are doing, but could you speed it up a little?”

 

As I continued to walk down the street, I passed a beautiful two-door BMW. So, I quickly down shifted from whining to God to assessing the character of the owner of such a lavish vehicle. I mean, clearly he doesn’t manage his money well nor does he give to charity because he is a knot-head that drives a 70-thousand dollar car. The nerve.

 

And then I saw the bumper stickers. Two of them. The one on the left read: “Don’t be fooled by my car, my treasure is in heaven.” The one on the right read: “Real Men Love Jesus.”

 

I nearly passed out. God just reached down from high heaven to give me, Simone, a kiss when I needed it the most.

The Intervention

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Intervention, stop, concernLate last week my dear friend and colleague, Faye, came to my office. I could tell by the way her eye brows were furrowed that she meant business. Faye edits my work too. So, my first thought was “Lord, what have I done now?”

She sat down and began with the usual pleasantries. “How are you? What are your plans for the weekend, How is your family back home  etc. etc.” I explained (nonchalantly) that I was going to run, hang out with some friends, see a musical, that my family was doing well…the usual.

And then the boot dropped. Faye was here to stage an intervention for my dating life. “Simone, do you even want to meet a guy? I mean, have you even asked God where you can meet guys? I mean to date…not to evangelize. Seriously, he’s not going to show up on your door step wearing a t-shirt that says ‘I’m the one.’ Simone, I don’t think you are taking this stuff seriously because if you were…you would be trying to make yourself available. Its going to take two years you know. One to date and a year to be engaged. Have you thought about that? I doubt it. Because clearly, you’d be frustrated if you had.”

People, I cannot make this stuff up.

So, after an hour of “counseling.” We agreed that I would make better decisions on how I spend my time. The goal is to make myself more available to meeting guys.

As a good faith effort, I decided to go to a fireworks display on Saturday night, rather than a musical. Let’s face it there wouldn’t be any eligible bachelor’s at a musical.

However, I didn’t tell Faye that I spent Friday night…in my apartment…reading a book until 4:30 a.m. Now, that’s my idea of a good time!

My Brother & Me

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Since you know the reason I’m writing about my brother. I feel the need to tell y’all a little about our relationship. Isaac and I got off to a rough start before he was even born. You see, I had four glorious years of being an only child before Isaac made his grand entrance into the world. And when asked if I was excited about being a big sister, I informed people that I intended to throw him in the trash as soon as he was born. Awful, I know.

But, as time went on my sentiments changed and I began to love and even defend the little guy. Once, when my brother was playing in a basketball tournament and a guy from the opposing team fouled, in my opinion, a little roughly. I ran out onto the court, tackled the offender, and proceeded to inform him that if he laid another hand on my brother I would smack his face. The poor 12-year-old didn’t know what hit him. I was 16ish at the time and probably should’ve known better, but I didn’t play when it came to protecting my family. I have matured since then and no longer threaten to smack people. I am, after all, a lady.

Isaac and I are still very close, thankfully, despite my living 700 miles away. Even though he is getting married, going to school full-time, and working part-time. He still manages to check up on me. He doesn’t beat around the bush either. Generally, his first or second question is “Simone, do you have any suitors?”

And, let me tell you. He’s not the only one asking.

28 Days and counting….

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My brother, Isaac, is getting married in 28 days. I am more than excited for him. But, I am less than enthusiastic for myself. You see, Isaac is 25. I am 28. He is getting married before me, and that puts me in a tight spotcounting down . Why you might  ask? Because, I will have to face all of our family, all of our friends, and all their questions.

You know the questions I’m referring to. The one’s that come with raised eyebrows and feigned courtesy. You look great, Simone, how are you doing? Translation: You aren’t ugly, Simone, why aren’t you married? Ahhhh!

What’s a single girl to do? How do I explain that I am content? I LOVE my, family, job, apartment, friends, church, and all around life. How do I explain that when I wake up in the morning I thank God for another day that I get to live in this FANTASTIC city? Why does it have to boil down to this one future guy that I hope to meet in the near or distant future?

Yes. One day I do want to be married. Yes. I do want to have 4-6 kids. No. I am not delusional. I know that if I want to have that many kids I’ll have to start sooner rather than later. And No. I’m not one of those Sex in the City gals that thinks having a great career, wearing high heels to walk 20 blocks, and sleeping around is the life. I’m just not in a hurry. Can that be okay?