Saturday, February 27, 2010
in today's news: Toyoda Finally Bends Over for US Congress
oh, and before i forget,
I MET SOMEONE.
ok calm down. i kindasorta met someone. or maybe i didn't 'meet', meet someone yet. okay here's the deal.
why is it that men are so brittle? when they get sick, it's as if the whole world has to come to an end. colds, headaches, whatever. they fall the fck out like they're gonna just die. just DIE, i say. meanwhile, we soldier through all kinds of illnesses. and pains. and emotional fluxes. and knife stabs.
and that doesn't count the non-menstrual-period-related shyt.
why do they get to be so brittle, and we don't? alright alright, i'll get over the spilled milk soon but right now, hatdemmit i wanna whine. SUE ME.
so anyway, this guy is bruised. he was in a relationship with someone whom (i suspect) didn't really want to be in a relationship, but thought it would be a good idea to be in a relationship with a guy who is actually REALLY ready to settle down. so she screwed him over. which meant that by the time i met him, he was like a wounded animal. not quite snarly but scared of everything.
i could certainly relate to this. i haven't dated seriously in a long time. i'm not ugly. i'm scared. so i understand scared. but THIS dude right here pushed my limits of understanding.
he did things like ask me where i work.... then ask me again, an hour later. not because he forgot, more to see if i would answer the same way twice.
are you fcking JOKING??
LESSON: men, i need you to understand this and let it help you for the rest of your live-long days: WOMEN ARE SMARTER THAN MEN. period. no, really. you know how men usually get to tell us earth-shattering truth like 'men really are visually driven' or 'men really are dogs' and we usually need a minute or two to accept the truth?
your minute begins right....
okay u can resume breathing now, before that temple on your forehead explodes. back to the lesson. we're smarter than you. we are better liars than you. we just (usually) choose not to. but not because we can't. i don't know why we are so good at it. anymore than i know why men make such wonderful protectors, regardless of physical build. it just is what it is. so - and most women will NOT tell you this - trying to catch us in a verbal lie will usually be pointless. no.... seriously. 8 times out of 10, you will not catch a verbal lie. there are other ways to catch us but i'm not trying to have my women's membership card revoked so i'd better stop talking right now.
so by this time i'm already irritated. fckr if i'm gonna do you grimy, me lying about my job is the LAST thing you need to worry about. so i ask him a little about what happened with ex-girl.
i mean, she was grimy. my opinion is, she had someone on the side and needed an excuse to cut my dude off. but she had to make it seem like it was his fault. (yes, we do that sometimes.) but quite frankly, i just wound up rolling my eyes at the whole thing. i get it. this is a man who usually has his pick of women. so to have a woman treat him badly was literally unfathomable to him. it shook him to his core.
boo mthrfckin hoo.
but... is this our fault? have we women so coddled men to the point that they are emotionally weakened? no, let's think about this.
we pride ourselves on our ability to bear all kinds of heartache and pain and childbirth and maternal duties and wifely duties and boardroom duties and bedroom embarassment and blahblahblah... and we've accepted men's expectation of drama-free women.
LESSON: all women come with drama. all MEN come with drama. all kids, goats, dogs come with drama. life IS drama. so if your partner isn't sharing the drama with you, then either s/he is internalizing it, or sharing it with someone else.
here's another minute.
so in our bid to present ourselves as drama-free, sugar-n-spice visions of bliss, we have set unrealistic expectations for our men. and perhaps, we have unrealistic expectations of them, too. which is why men don't deal well with non-physical confr...oh... by the way...
LESSON: ladies, men hate hate hatehatehatehatehatehateHATE confrontation with us. why? they can't just smack us and be done with it. and we're daaaaamn good with words. (did i mention women are smarter than m... oh ok, u read that part.) so we will argue a matter until it's dead, buried, decayed, gone to judgment, argued its case, lost, appealed, and haunting your daily life. that is how we roll. men haaaaaate that shyt. so we have progressively turned them into creatures who either cower, run, or misdirect their feelings when confronted by mammary adversaries.
so what would it take to be completely naked with each other, as sexes? is that even possible? how would that work? could there ever be a space where men can be sensitive and women show our emotions?
perhaps on planet Utopia. and on that planet, Utopians would have figured out how to eat all you want and never get fat, fck all you want and never contract a disease or break a heart, and do whatever you want with no negative consequences.
meanwhile, back at the ranch (known also as planet Earth), we find it easier and safer to keep all urges in check. cuz let's face it: i like my men, manly. slightly macho. i'm kind of a traditionalist. i believe in taking my husband's last name and being the primary (not sole) caretaker of the home. i believe in genteel behavior, however that's translated from culture to culture. so in the end, we'll continue to capitulate to each other's needs. because that's how we keep the planet spinning on its axis. that's how we roll.
we bend over, and then say 'thank you.'
*exhale* okay i'm tired of whining over spilled milk now.
oh, as for Dude... *shrug*
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
On Saturday night, I was hanging out on the couch with my homegirls. My girl McLovin tells me and MyKimmy about her date with a guy she's been seeing for a couple of weeks now. McLovin casually told us that the guy kissed her and, of course, we squealed like little pot-bellied pigs. Even as grown women, we become school girls when it comes to dating and boys.
So I proceeded to ask how was "the kiss"? McLovin responds, "Not good at all". MyKimmy responds, "Uhh....get rid of him". McLovin signified this same sentiment.
"Now wait a minute. You're going to just throw the baby out with the bathwater because of a bad first kiss?" I questioned.
"Yes!" They both responded in unison.
What was it that I was missing here?
The topic had me perplexed a little bit. Obviously, I needed to think things over a bit, and what better way than with a tip of the box.
The power of the kiss means more than maybe I had ever given it credit for. According to my homegirls and many other women out there, kissing tells you almost everything you need to know about a guy.
Yeah, yeah, yeah....you still have to have a conversation and spend time with a guy to know his personality and the type of person he is, but the kiss... The kiss seems to provide a woman with information on the chemistry between the two of them, how comfortable a man is with himself and with you, and also acts as a precursor to the type of loving a woman can expect from a guy. Wow! All of that from just one kiss?
This required another glass of wine to comprehend.
Very few guys take stock into learning how to appropriately kiss. Oftentimes, kissing is taken for granted in lieu of other physical activities. The kiss can be just that little spark that sends the love rollercoaster in motion.
So how do you tell the difference between a bad kiss and a good kiss?
That's a pretty subjective thing for each person, but from my own experience there are certain things that goes without saying. Such as:
- Tight lip kisses are such a turn off. It feels like you are trying to cement my lips shut. Not to mention, if his lips are that tight, no telling what else on him is uptight.
- The tongue probing kiss is equivalent to a plumber cranking a snake down a drain to unclog a toilet. It feel like your tongue is checking my dental work...its just awkward. Tongue has its place in a kiss, but it should never distract away from the lips.
- Hesitant kisses - I HATE these for the simple fact that somewhere there is a secret being withheld and their lips are the physical ramifications of it. I have had three of these in my lifetime. They all had the potential of being awe-inspiring kisses, but something felt like it was only a half kiss. I eventually found out what the hesitancy was: 2/3 were with other people and the 1/3 was in the closet. 'Nuff said!
- Succubi kisses - these are the kisses that try to steal your life force from you. The suction on the mouth is like a vacuum. When you get these kisses, it feels like the person doesn't even care if you need air or that your lips are now hanging on the floor.
- St. Bernard kisses - Just like the dogs, they are overly wet and downright sloppy. These are the type of kisses that my cousin would threaten us with as kids. There is nothing sexy about bathing in a whirlpool of spit.
So what's a good kiss?
Lips, lips, lips are EVERYTHING. Nice lips. Soft lips. Chapstick moist lips. Lips so appealing that every time the person talks I feel compelled to stare at them when I'm not trying to put my own on them. WHEW! we're cooking with grease now.
But its more than just kissing on the lips. Its the mental foreplay that goes with a kiss. A kiss on the forehead, on the neck, even on the tip of your nose. All of these show a sort of desire or passion that the person has for you. When you touch the spot where your beloved kissed you, it sends you into a 3-minute chocolate high.
Is there any slack for men who aren't good kissers?
According to MyKimmy, "If you are over the age of 30, you should have enough experience by now to know what to do. You should just know!"
So get your kiss and lip game up, fellas! Otherwise, many of you will be left to the judgment of the Girlfriend Gauntlet...and apparently, there is no mercy for the weak and ill-prepared!
'Til Next Time (with lip gloss poppin')
Monday, February 22, 2010
You make me feel. You make me feel like
So this sister writes me about her "man" that she's been seriously dating for two years. They are now engaged and her issue...she doesn't know if he loves her. How the hell are you confused about that?? She goes on to tell me that in the two years, he's never said he loves her. Hmm...I asked how does he show it? Her response: He's stuck with me for two years. WTF? Are you that godawful that "sticking with you" is such a heinous activity that you must pledge the rest of your existence to him as a thank you?? Didn't you also stick with his arse for the same amount of time?? Fair exchange is no robbery sis.
She seemed confused.
Me: "you do argue at times, right? When you are upset, need comfort or support in spite of a differing opinion...what does loverboy do?"
Her: "well, he can get a bit cruel. Usually we just need a few days away from each other."
As we continue talking she further reveals there are times when he's laughed when she cried. When she says she needs something he responds by telling her she shouldn't be so needy. That's often followed by she shouldn't be so angry or so this or so that because after all it wouldn't get to him that way.
Ah sisters, with all the extra assholes the Lord saw fit to provide you'd think we wouldn't be so stunned when we end up caught up in a bunch of shit. Let's be reall, the whole idea of "too needy" was created by men. It's their buzz word. They figured out, long ago, that if they say "too needy" we automatically feel a.) inadequate and b.) responsible. It's the ability to manipulate the conversation by convincing you his role is to validate who you are and how you feel. They hope, and often are granted, you forget that power is yours to give AND take back as you see fit. I say, next time challenge him on it. When he says "you shouldn't be so needy" tell him to point it out in the manual. I'm dying to hear what answer he gives that justifies his egotistical desire to control how another person feels.
When you are at your worst and vulnerable to being hurt how does he make you feel? It's easy to feel on cloud nine when everything is good. It's easy to convince yourself, whether he says it or not, that he loves you when the most horrible thing he's done is leave his socks on the floor. When you two have completely different opinions on a subject you feel strongly about and you are shouting at the top of your lungs. When you're so frustrated you can't do anything but cry. When you are being unreasonable and he's being undesirable. How does he make you feel? If it's intentionally less than the woman you walked into the situation with...leave him. What have you really lost? Love isn't pretty but it is often strong. It's what shows up when everything else shows out.
You make me feel. You make me feel like...
A Non-Existent Piece of the Puzzle:
Sister do yourself the same favor I had to do myself. Stop wondering if he loves you. Start worrying about if you love you.
Don't get married, don't get a pet, don't get a new pair of shoes until you figure that out. All that energy you keep investing in making sure his world is ok, take it, and start building one that's all about you. Make sure it's full of beautiful, pampering things. Treat yourself so well, invest in your own well being so much that by the time you are ready to date or get married that man won't have the luxury of topping the last man's achievements because you've already gone far and above that for yourself. The standard he will have to top is based on how you treat you. And even with that dude, if he doesn't make you feel valued and respected...if he doesn't make you proud of who you two are as a couple...if he doesn't make you feel like a needed piece of the puzzle you two are putting together for your relationship...if he doesn't make you feel blessed and joyful in your femininity. Appreciated in what you bring to the table. EVERY day....leave him. He's not only supposed to say he loves you...I mean if that brother doesn't make you feel it...Fully, Completely, Naturally....EVERY day - leave him.
I know she won't. She's already committed. I know it was one of those moments when God was just tapping me on my shoulder and saying "look how far you've come." So, I'm once again going back to the mode of wish 'em well and keep walking the path to my destiny. To the one who will one day have me sincerely wondering
ooh, baby what ya done to me? You made me feel so good inside. And I just want to be close to you. You make me feel so alive. You make me feel...you make me feel...you make me feel like a Natural Woman
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
In the hallows of Valentine's Days past, I would make resolutions and solemn vows to have a valentine love by the following holiday. But sadly, the results have remained the same. Nevertheless, another year will bring about the promise of a different outcome.
During the 13 days leading up to the holiday, I listen to the brevy of men who feel compelled to say, "I do stuff all year long, why do I need this holiday to justify what I've been doing all along?" Accompanied with their admissions, are the all-to-familiar responses of their female counterparts chanting their mantras, "Valentine's Day is an overrated holiday!" Or my favorite, "we don't really celebrate it".
To these couples, I say, "GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE WITH THAT CRAP!!"
You know what? Go stand in the corner and be boring as hell and let me show you how to enjoy Valentine's Day. YES DAMMIT!! I like Valentine's Day....I finally said it. After all those years of Anti-Valentine's episodes, I can no longer hold it in anymore.
YES! I want the cheesy Russell-Stover chocolate turtles and the cliche' roses. Red ones.
YES! I want the crappy little cartoon card with the sappy line and I want to check one of the yes, no or maybe boxes.
YES! I want the unoriginal date night including a dinner and a movie, followed by an even more trite excuse to have Valentine's Day sex.
YES!! I freakin' want it all. More importantly, I want my right to be unenthused by the prospect of the lover's holiday. Let me decide for myself the uneventfulness of the day, without the dream deferred rhetoric of stale couples. Its like they forget that at one time they, too, enjoyed these displays of affection.
Sometimes, partnered people use those uninterested lines projecting their own unhappiness about the spunk, or rather lack thereof, in their relationships. As if these words will somehow save the single person from the uninteresting nature your relationship has taken.
I know that it ain't hot in the streets to love Valentine's Day if you're single, but why the hell not? To admit to liking the day, is like admitting to being on the DL. The scoffs are enough to send any covert romantic, like myself, back into hibernation.
Furthermore, with my Valentine's birthright, I want the hope of having a partner who will make strides and leaps at creativity in planning Valentine's gifts for me.
Sometimes, I let my imagination run wild (which normally includes a few glasses of wine from the box). I dream about waking up to an early morning phone call of my beloved telling me how he will come over and share his box of cereal if I would share some milk. Together, we lay curled up watching Saturday morning cartoons, wasting the day away.
Even better, he has a romantic dinner of Popeye's chicken and biscuits with sticky honey packets waiting and we sit through an evening of Queen Latifah movies. As a treat, I get my feet massaged. Shea butter all up and through them toes.
This might seem crazy to you, but that's what I like. That's what makes me happy.
And happily is how I plan to spend my Valentine's Days from here on out. (And I dare anyone to tell me that I can't have it!)
'Til Next Time!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
To the sisters:
This day & every day:
- may we find love, home and peace right where we are.
- Treat yourself & love yourself better than any man can so you can properly set the standard
- Please enjoy the video (click the link)
Thank you brothers:
To powerful minds, deep voices, & strong hands.*
- Michael, Big Mike, Malcolm X, Solomon, Samson, Wes, Sean
To committed hearts, fierce fighters, & passionate lovers.*
- Donta, Brandon, Randy, Buffalo Soldiers, Jon, Ed, the men in Haiti still looking 4 their wives
To men who bow their heads, read their books, raise their fists, handle their business, & NEVER abandon their families.*
- Brandon, Sean, Mr. D, Drake, Lincoln, Billy P., Shai's Grandfather,Uncle B., Jon Jon, Keith B., Wes
To beautiful men who still have the glow of God in their eyes.*
- Billy P., Sean, Jon Jon, Donta, Shai's Grandfather, Malik, Keith B., Wes, Brandon
To every brother worldwide, who ever had a meaningful conversation with us
- Mr. D, Mr. S, Tash, Wes, Rocky, Donta, Brandon
To every brother who ever taught me a lesson or shared a perspective that I did not consider*
- Mr. D, Mr. S, Dad, Grandfather, Keith B., Donta, Wes, Pastor
To all the brothers who show me both love & respect
- Wes, Sean, Jasper, Jon Jon, Rocky, Donta Mark, Maurice, Brandon, Rashodd
To every brother who ever considered my words, thoughts, & feelings and used them to make a positive change in their own lives*
- Sean, Mo, Justice, Tash, Greyson, Donta
To every brother who ever stood by my side, back and front in death & difficult times.
- Sean, Jon Jon, Dewight, Lark, Bronson, Donta
The ones who did not run & hide when my voice hit the target, my words seared the soul, or my truth made things too damn clear*
- Bronson, Lark, Mr. D, Sean, Reggie, Rashodd
To the brothers who prove to be the best lovers. Not because we ever had anything physical. We didn't. Because you loved my spirit, my anger, my strength, my mind...even when I thought it was stank.
- Sean, Tash, Wes, Reggie, Bronson, Samson, Donta
To the brothers who taught/remind me not every lesson has to be a painful. Some men come to restore.
- Jon Jon, Grandfather, Dewight, Mark, Bronson, Donta
To the brothers who made me feel beautiful, protected & valued
- Sean, Rocky, Craig H., Bronson, Donta
To the brothers who are like the blood brothers I never had but always wanted
- Jon Jon, Ambrose, Will S., Will L., Delano, Donta
To the brothers who love, desire and honor black women exclusively
- Sean, Leon T., Bronson, Lamar, Will L., Mr. D, J, Michael, Big Mike, Amir, Jason, Mark H., Tyler
Dedications phrases marked with an * are from a passage written by Sistah Souljah. Poetry by Amir Sulaiman
Friday, February 12, 2010
Top Story: Former President Clinton
rushed... evac'd... whisked.. walks out of his office on his own two feet and is admitted to hospital for heart transplantstent implant, following complaint of chest pains...
In Other News: Metro Red Line
explodes... falls off above-ground tracks... derailed; hundreds maimed... injured... perfectly okay, only 3 fatalities... serious.... minor injuries.
i'm so glad Pres. Clinton is doing far better than was initially reported. i can't STAND over-hype!
in fact, i was discussing this with my cousin. ok she's not really my cousin, but might as well be. she enjoys hype, thinks it just adds spice to life. "girl please," she chided, "you LOVE hype! like your boy, Bo." her remark was followed by that warm, familiar cackle.
i've known Bo for what... 5, 6 years now? there's always been a weird sexual tension between us. a weird, strong sexual tension. but when i met him he was on the last leg of his marriage. i don't sleep with married men.
so i spent that time playing marriage counselor, and referring him and his soon-to-be-ex-wife to other counselors. i would later find out that all my 'help' actually wore on hislast nerve. and here i thought he actually wanted to save his marriage. things aren't always as they appear.
don't believe the hype. (cue Public Enemy bassline)
so anyway we lost touch for a while. by the time we re-connected (facebook is tha DEVIL), he was happily divorced and fully back on the market. i, of course, was single. (CSI Miami "Yeeeeahhhhh!!!") so we get to talkin, talkin, talkin... and then it hit me like a ton of bricks: he's damaged goods.
everyone carries baggage with them. fck what the self-help, ultra progressive mouthpieces say. we ALL have baggage. the trick might be to not get too comfortable with it. i believe life comes with all kinds of packages and some of them, gaddemit, you NEED to carry around with you, otherwise, you will lose the gift inside. not all baggage is bad. perhaps all baggage is just that - baggage. neither good nor bad. perhaps it's all about what you do with it.
but Bo, he doesn't just carry baggage. he delights in it. he enjoys the cruelty of the weight. he carries his baggage with an unhealthy possessiveness. he is happier than a pig in mud. and while i believe we all have the right to revel in our own mud, it doesn't, however, mean i'm about to revel in that shit with you.
bottomline, Bo isn't ready for another relationship. he can't bring himself to say it. because he and i share a weird, strong tension. and it isn't just sexual, to be honest. we think alike. i love, love, LOVE the sheer capacity of his mind. God help me, it's sexy. the way he thinks, his hunger for knowledge, and not just for knowledge's sake. not just to become a self-touting encyclopedia. he has a genuine love and curiosity for data. aww man, i think that's so sexy.
a genuine nerd. like me.
but Bo is damaged goods. i know this because whenever our interactions start to get emotionally intimate, he runs. like, that fckr literally disappears, and i won't hear from him for days on end. the longest stint, he was gone for months. that's when i knew that not only is he damaged, it's become a chasm that i simply don't have the emotional bandwidth to bridge. 10 years ago, i would have been strong enough for both of us...or at least i would have told myself i was. 5 years ago, i would have stretched out my hand and told him, if you'll just take my hand, baby, we can fight this thing together. but right now, the woman i am today? i simply haven't the capacity for all of that anymore. a man like that will love you, propose to you, and leave your ass standing at the altar. this last time, when he ran, i let him go. and i shut the door behind him.
he re-emerged and i opened a window. we've been in that mode ever since. i didn't ask him why he ran. not initially. i didn't tell him how much it hurt me to my heart. but i could hear the regret in his voice. i could sense the longing to walk back through the door. he knows something has changed. we both know it. but he's kept trying to get back in. in fairness to him, i'm not the cuss-you-out type. once i assess your position in my life, i don't feel the need to confront you with it. i don't need that kind of "closure". so it's easy to assume that i'm blind and stupid.
don't believe the hype.
eventually, i guess he figured it was time. time to have Le Talk.
"SugarBee, I want to make love to you. Let me make love to you."
5 1/2 years, on and off... and there it was: Let Me Make Love To You.
the longing was unmistakeable. the yearning in his plea had a familiar urgency to it. that unerring focus on the one and only thing on a man's mind at that.particular.moment. and i knew... i knew the sex was going to be off...the...chain.
"Bo... I'm sorry. No."
i could almost hear the glass shattering in his brain as i turned him down. firmly, gently, unyieldingly. because what didn't need to be said was,
MFCKR, ARE YOU NUTS?! do you reeeeally think i've been abstinent for years just so i can settle for your now-you-see-it-now-you-don't, self-centered, immature, emotionally sadomasochistic ASS???! you got the wrong... mudderfackin... ONE.
that was last week. i haven't really heard from him since. because just like that zero-in moment that men all share when they want the goods, he also has a fragile ego. men hate to be turned down. HATE it.
why did i turn him down? not just because he was unreliable. but... he asked to make love to me.
he never offered to love me.
i was surprised by that. i expected this man to know better. to do better. to want better.... for me.
so in spite of my cool, balanced assessment of this man i've known for half a decade... in spite of the clarity of mind with which i shut that door and never re-opened it... it turns out that even i can love a man who clearly wants to fck me, not love me. even i could fall for the hype.
"Until next time... I'm Sugar Brown."
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
I'm feeling really reflective right now, but my thoughts are disjointed. There are no rhyme or reason to what I'm feeling or thinking. I can't seem to connect any links between them. I feel a little sad right now. I couldn't correct a sentence that I used in my post, so I scraped the whole frickin' thing. Damn, I didn't save it....there was a funny line I used and now I can't remember it.
I wonder what ever happened to that Smurf record player I had as a kid. Why did my mom give it away? She always throws away my stuff without asking me. That was pretty random right there. Maybe I have cabin fever...but I don't feel like putting on any clothes right now.
I should work on my taxes right now. Crap! I still don't have my W-2s yet. I hope they have Hip Hop class at the gym on Thursday. I still can't remember the moves from yesterday. Oh...I have a hair appointment on Saturday...I think its at 2pm.
My underwear drawer is a mess. I need to get rid of some of these, especially these canary yellow ones. They're not even cute. Ohhh...I should do a to-do list today, but I'd really like to see the Book of Eli. Okay, I don't know how I got a movie from a to-do list...that's definitely random.
I refuse to check my work e-mail on a snow day. Valentine's Day is coming up. My favorite Valentine's Day was in college. A few of the girls got together and threw an Anti-Valentine's Day party. They had signs and streamers up. I never danced and laughed so hard. Wait...aww shyt, Pandora's playing one of my favorite songs, Heartache Heartbreak by Patrice Rushen. I really like her soft voice. This songs speaks to my current love life sooooo well.
Alright, I need to get my mind together. What's going on with me today? Nothing is making sense. My mood is all over the place. I feel irrational right now. Hold up...let me check the calendar. "Aunt Flo" is due in town in about 2 days.
DAMN!! Makes perfect sense...
Monday, February 8, 2010
If you knew how lonely my life has been. and how I've felt so alone. and if you knew how I wanted someone to come along and change my life the way you've done.
I know a ton of women who are married. Don't know (save Grand) one chick who has a husband. So while they are busy asking me why aren't I married, I'm busy wondering why the hell are they? Usually I clean all that up by simply responding "I never had an example of marriage that was appealing enough to make it something I aggressively aspire to". Usually it's two desperate people running from the fear of loneliness. Married to someone they hate, or who hates them, because of the kids. The same kids who, by the way, hate both of them because of all the nonsense they are forced to witness. Getting married because of "all these years" I've put into this. When all you have is "all these years", with not one positive emotion to show for it in the present time, charge it to the game. Or because...it sounded like a good idea, that's what you are supposed to do, u needed validation that someone wanted you, etc, etc! And I get it. Not knocking it. As long as you are both in that boat together we won't rock it. But don't question why the rest of us aren't in a mad dash to sink with you.
It feels like home to me. It feels like home to me. It feels like I'm all the way back where I come from. It feels like home to me. It feels like home to me It feels like I'm all the way back where I belong.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Top Story: Mid-Atlantic Corridor Slammed by Blizzard! VA Governor declares state of emergency...
that's right, people, the east coast is snowed in. so of course, i didn't go to work. instead i stayed home and cooked. and drank. and watched tv. bad, bad tv. (everybody gets a reality show these days, wtf?) and cleaned. and cooked some more.
after wearing my ass out, i finally sat down on the couch, and just as i felt myself dozing off, the phone rang. it was The Call.
you know that call. it's the call that you reserve for special occasions. well, not so much because it's "special" in the romantic sense. more like "break glass in case of emergency" type of special.
24" of snow and climbing. temps at negative hell. i'm out of things to cook and movies to watch. and i'm alone.
this is a mudderfackin emergency.
"hey baby, haven't heard from you in a wh.. huh? yeah i was just thinking maybe you should come ov...."
i had no sooner said "...ver" than he was at my door, grinning like a cheshire cat. whatever, he brought liquor. so in he came. i'd forgotten how sexy he is. 6'4, chocolate with a low fade. gotdayumn. but you know what i found more sexy than his idris elba smile? his hands. oh he has THEE most beautiful, manly hands.
*i'd better calm down.*
we talked. we ate. we drank. we laughed. we drank. we talked. we drank. and before you knew it, we'd forgotten all about the arctic diarrhea outside. all that remained was us. and the liquor. but mostly us. and after the 3rd go-round, as we lay on my 600-ct sheets, i found myself struggling to remember why i'd never gotten serious with allen. he was single, never married. straight as the crow's flight. sexy as all get-out. he doesn't have a college degree but he works with his hands. there's gotta be a catch somewhere.
wait, did i mention his hands? heaven give me strength. *swoon*
he started off as a contractor, then became foreman, then started his own contracting business. now he flips properties for a living, and still does some contractor work. i still make more than he does (i think), but money isn't the end-all for me. this man is motivated. and when he touches me... when he kisses me... when he smiles at me... my world is his oyster. there must be a catch. there was a time when i and my family would balk at the idea of me marrying an unlettered man. a man without a diploma had no future, was the consensus. but not allen. he had made his own destiny. defined his own future. so why didn't i get ser...
"you gon' think i invented sex..." a ringtone. loud. in the middle of my afterglow. whatinTHEEhayle?! suddenly, the flames on my vanilla scented yankee candles flickered more wildly. like an ominous spirit was blowing through. why is my perfect moment being interrupted right now? and why won't he turn off that damn ringer? "Allen! YOUR PHONE!"
he's reaching for his clothes.
the candlelight is dancing wildly now.
i think i'm gonna be sick.
that damn trey songz is blaring again.
wait, didn't he just answ...
i open my eyes to find myself on the couch. my house smells like fried catfish, not yankee candles. all the lights are off, except for the tv. i hate that damn trey songz video. howz a fuggin baby like him gonna claim he invented anything, let alone sex. getdafckouttahere. i remember why i stopped watching BET.
but then i find myself smiling. it was a nice fantasy. and it was good to see allen again. yeah, it was a dream, but allen is actually a real man. and he really is sexy as i described. and now i remember why i never got serious with him: allen will never be serious with any woman. including his current wife.
there's always a catch.
"i'm sugar brown; stay warm, and good night."
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
But today...I got some shiggety that's on my mind and I need to get it off my chest. Now, these things ain't about you per se, but if you fit the profile, then maybe you need to KEEP IT 100 right now.
Ladies, Its 2010 now. In the dawn of the Biggest Loser, why the hell are you wearing pants that your fat ass can't fit in...with a belt? I see more plumber cracks walking down the street then I care to EVER see. Which leads to the next question...Why are you all not wearing underwear with your pants? Furthermore, y'all have the nerve to wear lil' bubble coats that don't fit over your stomachs. Either hit the gym so you can wear the tight clothes or buy stuff that fits.
Ladies, why y'all fronting for your girlfriends? You complain about how this girl or that girl is always running behind a man and how that ain't gonna be you. But as soon as you're all boo-loved up, nobody can find your ass. JUST STOP IT!! Asserting your independence on everyone doesn't prove anything, it only proves that you will fall the hardest. I have friends who were some of the harshest critics about other women and how they act in their relationships. When their husbands and kids came about, they turned into the same icky, kissy-faced women that they shunned. There is nothing wrong with being in love, even if you haven't found it. And getting mad when people remind you of your hypocritical, hate-mungering proclamations you made earlier ain't cool. Stop frontin'...
KEEP IT 100!!
You know something...now that I got that all off my chest, I'm feeling pretty good right now. And since I'm keepin' it 100, tonight, I think I'm going to pass on the wine. Wait...let's keep it 200 on this one, I'm tilting the box as we speak.
'Til next time,
Monday, February 1, 2010
In the midst of cleaning out cobwebs, dust and tangible nothings, getting ready to pull out yet another suitcase for yet another trip, I literally stumbled on his photograph. It must have fallen out of a keepsake box. I didn't notice the slippery slope shaped like a polaroid tumbling to the ground. I yanked, with all my might, the suitcase out of it's assigned cubby, stepped back and slipped to the floor. You can imagine my surprise as I lifted my behind to see what I could possibly have slipped on. Imagine the irony...his face.
I hadn't thought of him in a long time. Except for when he called a few weeks ago to tell me of his new relationship. He was concerned I might know her. I might. Not so concerned that he didn't make it plain, in that very same conversation, that if I was willing...so was he. After confirming for the 3rd time that I wasn't willing, he told me the relationship had been going on for months. Funny, last month weren't you telling me you and a different chick were...same dude, different day. I'll pray for them. All of them. I've been in their shoes. They've never been in mine. So regardless of whatever forever words & whispers of "I still want to have children with you" he made to me that day - I'll pray he can create a better 2morrow for the one(s) he's with. I pray that he will settle down and get married. Be happy (even if not productive) and live better with the best he has to offer. But that's not what made me laugh. Naw. Truth - I even 4got about that conversation 5 minutes after saying "I gotta go". I was laughing at me.
I look at a pic of him and see the naivete' of who I used to be. The wishes I used to have. Probably the same ones his girl has now. Yep, I'll pray for her. I remember, when it was 1st revealed who he was, my inner battle between wishing I had never found out and realizing I had always known. I remember feeling like another human being had the power to take pieces of me. Now, I'm just happy (no matter what he took) he isn't here. LOL. I think back on the lesson and wonder why it took so long to leave in the 1st place. All the fighting and unrequited love & pain only boiled down to one soft spoken lesson.
If you are ready to leave and that man is not ready to let you go - there is no good way to leave him.
But when you love the idea of someone...listen to what I said...the idea of someone, you want everything (even the leaving) to be a reflection of that love. When I left him, I thought it was with that. My best wishes and hopes for him. I didn't realize if you were a good woman, he will always look for a door back in. If I had, I would have gone running for the hills and to hell with whether I left with a beautiful memory. But I was naive then. Didn't know me then. But you couldn't tell me that - then.
Nope, in my mind I was the self assured, strong in my convictions kinda girl. Even as far back as high school, when a male looked my way my first intinct was to be on guard. If he wanted to get at me, he had to convince me he was worth the energy it took to listen. Afterall, Grand always told me
there are three men you need to avoid at all times: The police, The politicians & the hustlers. All of 'em either want you dead or only let you live under assurances that can only benefit them.
To me, every male was at least a hustler if not a combo of all three. So I took great care in telling a man to go to hell. That was me. Or so I thought. Though I was long out of highschool when he and I met, the chick he met & mated was shaped by past lessons. Hmm...I wonder who my husband will meet when he and I finally breathe each other's air. But I digress...
Fast forward to now. Those days of coming into womanhood and discovering male energy seem like yesterday. Maybe, in truth, it was. But be it yesterday or yesteryear time has passed. And one thing's for sure about time, no matter how little of it passes, it changes things. Those experiences from then - to the chick the photograph reminds me of - to now, changed things. Just with that one male, I've been through cancer, heartache, disappointment, creating life and losing life. And God knows it didn't just change the way I saw him. It changed the way I honor me. As I looked at that pic I silently thanked God for all my exes because they kept me on the edge of self discovery, if nothing else.
Now, I'm quicker to say to a male interest "I don't know where you've been", "I don't trust what you're about" or ask "What is that about" when I see something twisted. Their defense tactic is to cquestion if I'm insecure. No. I'm very confident in & about me. Rest assured, it's you & your abilities I don't have any confidence in...
Now, I'm quicker to look at a situation and say "you're not for me" or "I'm not for you" and walk away with peace in the situation.
Now, when I do let a guy go and sister-friends ask "what happened?" I always say "enough". You see, I no longer have to wait for the shoe to drop or for something unchangeable to happen. Only enough! Enough for me to know that this right here isn't for me. I made the mistake with photograph of being unhappy for years and sticking around anyway because I had convinced myself if I love him than he has to do something drastic for me to leave. I ended up leaving anyway and finding out about the big stuff afterwards during reconciliation talks! LOL. I no longer find comfort in the state of "farther than I meant to go or longer than I meant to stay". I no longer look for validation for my reasons in staying or going. I don't need to breathe life into extremely damaged details for friend's too ooh and ahh over. They will surely here snatches on the street (no matter the twist on it) and convince themselves they know the situation to their satisfaction anyway.
There's so many ways the woman I am today, learned to honor me, from the men I knew yesterday. The photograph reminded me of that. Not of him. I quickly resumed packing but not before I threw the pic of him in the trash (hell, I always liked the idea of him rather than the reality of him anyway) and secured the keepsake box. Not before I realized, why hadn't I put a picture of myself in there? After all, it's a keepsake box. Why would I use it to keep someone else's image sacred?? LOLOL Then peered closer and realized, it was a box he'd given me and therefore may have more memoirs of him in there. That made me smile too. It was a beautiful box. Just needed the contents to be upgraded. Easy enough. Much like people over time. The framework is fine...it's the inside that needs to upgrade every few. So I dumped the contents of the box without even looking at it. Replaced the contents with pics of me. Safe, secure. New contents in a beautiful & strong structure with a weather proof foundation.
I stumbled on this photograph. It kind of made me laugh. Now I'm fading fast. Back down memory lane. I see the happiness. I see the pain.
...what I didn't see (despite the photos best intentions) was him. All I saw was the beauty of growth in me. And I loved her.
Song Lyrics are from Memory Lane by Minnie Ripperton