SoulSurvivor

Thankful

2006-11-24T14:16:00.000-05:00

So around this time every year, I ponder what I'm thankful for. I'm thankful for the usual blessings...my family, my friends, my job, my shelter.

But as I look back over the course of the past year, I have to say that the toughest thing for me was making decisions. The whole year was filled with heavy decision making...and I'm still standing. So I think what I am most thankful for is the gift of free will. All my "bad" decisions I have learned from, and I'm reaping the benefits of the good ones. Either way, it's a winner. Anything to ease the process of life, I'm thankful for.

I'm thankful for all of my blessings. But for a sound mind and the gift of free will, I give humble thanks as I conquer another year.

5 Years

2006-10-09T03:46:00.000-04:00

How different were you 5 years ago?

September 2001

How old were you? 21

Where did you go to school? University of Cincinnati

Where did you work? Siddall Hall Front Desk and Cincinnati Playhouse

Where did you live? Cincinnati, OH

Where did you hang out? my apartment, mostly - it was kind of a hub

How was your hair? permed and just past my shoulders

Did you wear glasses? nope

Who was your best friend? Kelly and Nikki

Who was your regular-person crush? Ronnie

How many tattoos did you have? none

How many piercings did you have? none

What car did you drive? 96 Geo Prism named Miracle

What was your worst fear? not doing well in the showcase and moving to NYC

Had you smoked a cigarette yet? nope

Had you been arrested? nope

Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: Taken

**LETS SEE WHAT YOU ARE NOW !!!!!**

September 2006:

How old are you? 26

Where do you work? PS 54 Elementary School in Brooklyn

same town? nope, Brooklyn, NY now.

Where do you hang out? my living room

Do you wear glasses? nope

What is your hairstyle? proudly rockin' a curly natural

Who are your best friends? Kelly and Nikki

Still talk to any of your old friends? yep

How many piercings do you have? 2

How many tattoos? one

What kind of car do you have? 2006 MTA (ha ha)

What is your biggest fear? not making the right decisions

Have you been arrested since if so how many times total? no

Has your heart been broken? yes

Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: Taken

Spring Summer Feeling...

2006-10-08T03:59:00.000-04:00

Feeling the way I do
It's hard to keep focus
One mintue staring at the moon
Next into your eyes
And it's no surprise
that my knees weaken
At the lovely words you're speakin'

so now I know why I needed to reconcile the Ones from my Past. To prepare for my Future.

oh...and my new teaching job is pretty awesome too. ;o)

They Always Come Back...

2006-09-15T00:14:00.000-04:00

I haven't decided yet wether or not this is a bad thing...but lately, people (men) from my past keep popping back into my life. Just recently. It is strange to me. Some I haven't heard from in months, and some I haven't heard from in years.

I may be reading too much into this, but in my mind, this could mean one of two things:

- that something big is about to happen, it will change my life, and I need resolve any issues I have with my past.
- that I am really sucky at resolving things, and it is all coming back to bite me in my behind or force me to resolve it.

It all comes back to resolution. I am realizing that I am horrible at closure. It's funny; if I am on the other end, I damn near demand it. I need closure in my life. But on my terms. I guess we all have a selfish side...

But looking back, I know that I did not resolve things properly with any of these people...and some deliberately so. I simply checked out. No discussion, no parting gifts or consolation prizes. I passed go, grabbed my $200, and bounced.

Why? I'm finding that as an adult, it is so easy for me to cut off contact if I simply don't want to deal. Now I'm not recognizing phone numbers anymore and getting caught up. What the heck do I say now?

I don't meant to sound dramatic, but I have a feeling that some shit is about to hit the fan...maybe in a good way; maybe in a bad way.

I just hope I'm ready.

It's About Time....

2006-08-22T15:51:00.000-04:00

...beat you to it. I had to take a summer to gather my thoughts, and they still aren't all together yet. Here are a few things I learned this summer:

1. I can be really lazy.

2. I can work harder than I ever thought I could.

3. I am ____sick. Figure it out (hint: it ain't home!)

4. With the decisions I have had to make as of late, I should never complain about not knowing what I'm gonna wear.

5. I have a HUGE support system that I am so grateful for!

6. people actually read my blog, LOL.

7. In a quest for life-long happiness, it's easy to miss or overlook the moments of it.

8. I can no longer eat whatever I want.

9. Money isn't everything; just mostly everything.

10. I consider myself to be a Renaissance Woman, and screw anyone who doesn't agree.

That's enough for now. Blog vacation over. Let's get to it. :)

Who You Wit?

2006-06-06T18:01:00.000-04:00

God determines who walks into your life....it's up to you to decide who you let walk away, who you let stay,and who you refuse to let go."- Anonymous

I saw this quote somewhere else today, and it really made me think. I often think about how people are placed in my life for a reason...

but I never think about me being placed in anyone's life for a reason. Sounds simple enough...but alas and alack...it is not.

How do you know? Sometimes I look at people around me, at how I treat them, how they treat me, how they behave...and I look heaven-ward and ask...really Lord? WHY?? If nothing else, it is my desire to fulfill God's purpose in life for me...so if this person is supposed to be here...so be it.

But what is my purpose in other people's life? Am I supposed to be teaching lessons? Setting examples? Being a friend, being a shoulder...and most importantly...

what happens if I fail?

It's one thing to muck up my life...it's something else to not do right by someone else's. Lord knows I've let some people stay when they should have been exiled from my life, and let some people go that maybe deserved a second (or third...or fourth) chance.

God's greatest gift to us is Free Will...and patience is a virtue...and guidance is divine.

The Double F

2006-05-25T18:31:00.000-04:00

forbidden fruit
Function: noun
Etymology: from the forbidden fruit of the Garden of Eden in Gen 3:2-19: an immoral or illegal pleasure

hmmm...DramaQueen, thy name is Eve. That's enough for now.

What a Trip...

2006-05-03T01:17:00.000-04:00

In all of my self-wallowing, I completely forgot to tell you about my trip to Texas a few weeks ago. I had such a great time - it was a great escape. It's the farthest West I've ever been. The weather was warm and beautiful, the food was to die for, and the people (for the most part) were very friendly.

The show went well - we got great feedback, and I am completely ready to take this show to the next level. I am nervous...not because I'm afraid it won't do well, but because I'm afraid that it will. When you think you have done your best, and you are forced to do better, where do you start? Creativity must be born...

I met up with one of my SS's, and she showed me a wonderful time - sisterhood is a beautiful thing! And it's always nice to meet new people.

You can check my cooking blog for all of the Tex-Mex knock-offs I plan to create!

It seemed to me that folks don't worry about too much in Austin. Even the nighttime was clear, balmy, and warm. In April. *sigh*

I am happy to add Austin, TX to my list of Places I've Been. Paris can't be too far off now...

Christmas in May

2006-04-27T17:54:00.000-04:00

Hmmm...I know I haven't written in a while. Maybe that is because everything from the last post still pertains. I haven't been feeling very inspired these days...*sigh*

I feel a transition coming into my life like Christmas...only it is May! Bring it on already! I am restless and antsy....

Lately I've been feeling the need to get out and meet people...step outside of my comfort zone...escape the "routine" (for lack of a better word) that I am in.

I have to be cautious about starting new relationsips of any kind, be them friendly or more than friendly, male or female because, I get way ahead of myself. I have a sense of who can enter my psyche from the moment I meet them...and they don't always feel the same way....at least, not right away. I'm not saying I'm psychic or anything, but I just know when someone is supposed to be in my life, be it for a reason a season or a lifetime (and that's the part that is not always so clear).

I'm in that phase in my life where I am starting to go over my current relations with a fine-tooth comb...why are you in my life? Why am I in yours?

Ok, enough with the vague revelations.

I'm a little lonely... more than a little horny... and supremely agitated at everything from my diet and lack of sleep, to the fact that I know I am wrong for asking the Lord to please bless me with ability to just go shopping and not care about how much I spend.

And as a general note to self - I gotta do better. In a lot of things.

I really do love my life...kind of like I love my period. I love the fact that it makes me all woman, but for about four or five days out of a month, it can really suck a fat one.

Boiling Point

2006-04-10T18:20:00.000-04:00

The flames are high. I am definitely at boiling point.

I am a worrier. I worry about everything, to the level of physical illness. Which is bad, cuz I hate doctors and hospitals.

I don't have room in my brain for everything that wants to reside in there, be it temporarily or forever and a day, or anything in between.

I have frazzled myself into an eerie sense of calm. It is unbelievable. Have I tricked myself into thinking that my faith is that strong or steadfast? Maybe it's not a trick, and I am finally able to achieve this euphoria that spirit-filled people refer to as Faith.

I don't even inhale and exhale anymore. All I ever do these days is gasp and sigh. Sometimes I'm not even sure what day of the week it is. But as promised, I have gotten better with age. Because now, in the midst of all this stress and uncertainty, I see a light at the end of the tunnel. Even if I don't want to believe that I actually see that light, I force myself. Because I will bubble over with anxiety if I don't.

I purge in small amounts when I get opportunities, such as this one. Because Anxiety is a Sleep Thief. It is a Control Thief. I cannnot and will not let it get the best of me.

Tommorrow is a new day.

*SIGH*

There I go again.

Contents of my Character

2006-03-19T17:30:00.000-05:00

I just read another fellow blogger's post (TD) and I felt strangely connected to it. I'll let you go to it and read it in detail, but basically she was talking about different aspects of her personality and how it has changed.

Like TD, people used to tell me (and sometimes still do) that I reminded them of Synclaire from Living Single and Freddie from A Different World. To be honest, I went through a range of emotions about this over the past years. Sometimes I didn't mind, sometimes it pissed me off, and sometimes I took it as a compliment. It depended on who said it and in what context. For the most part, it was true. I always had on slightly rose-colored glasses, and had that dreamy, glass-is-half-full outlook on life. Plus I was goofy and silly at best (some things haven't changed that much).

Since I began coming into my womanhood (and changing environments), I haven't changed much, but a few characters have been added to my cast. Now I've got some Miranda from Sex in the City (my sense of sarcasm and wit gets sharper and dryer by the day), a little Claire Huxtable (I can work my mouthpiece in way that I don't have to straight be cussin' folks out but I get my point across), and even a little Khadijah from Living Single (I'm much better at being straight-forward and honest).

Much like my girl TD, it's much more balanced. People can't help but to love the Freddie/Synclaire in me, they won't mess with the Claire, the Miranda will shut them up, and the Khadijah will give it to 'em straight, no chaser.

I'm sure it'll change a little more as I get older. And I can't wait. So far, I have the perfect cast of characters. And the best part is, they always know their cue.

Oxymoron

2006-03-14T17:54:00.000-05:00

you know...it's so hot, it's cool? It's so good, it's bad? It's so nice, it's sick or ill? I never understood the concept behind oxymorons. I always thought they were stupid. I guess that means either I'm too brilliant to get it, or too dumb to understand it. I dunno.

I had a dream the other night about The Guy. As a matter of fact, let's just call him Guy from now on. (Sorry, this won't be the last you'll hear about him! At least untill he comes to his senses...)

Anyway, we were at a party. We kept trying to find each other, but kept missing each other. It was a like a crazy maze in a huge house. We finally caught up with one another, and he puts both of his hands on my shoulders - you know how people do when they want to brace you for what they are about to say. He says:

"DQ, I am afraid to be happy. I have never been happy before, and I am just scared. I wouldn't know what to do with this kind of happiness. I know I could be happy with you, but I am afraid. I don't know this kind of happiness..."

Besides being completely weirded out by how many times and ways he used the word "happy", I didn't know what to think of this dream. There was another dream after that, but we didn't communicate in that one, he was just present.

If I may be deep for a minute, is it possible for a human being to not desire happiness? Like, do people really say that? And mean it? I haven't talked to Guy since my return, and my thoughts are racing. I thought I wouldn't care, because my plan was to go there, put things out on the table, and leave. If he responded to my liking, we get things on and poppin'. If not, out of sight, out of mind, right? Wrong. I haven't seen or talked to him, and this man is living rent-free in my mind. And I cannot afford it.

So I have been preparing myself for the conclusion of the Nice Blow-Off. How traumatic and incredibly oxy-moronic, I know. But that's all I could come up with, since I'm being forced to assume. I have felt at times a "You're too good for me" vibe from him, but I ignored it, because it's ridiculous. I am so confused and irritated...irritated because I'm confusing myself. What I really want to do is demand some answers. Better yet, demand communication. Even if it's to tell me to fuck off, I'd rather hear it than assume it. Sometimes I think that men think that if they can't tell us what we want to hear, that we are going to steal into their room in the middle of the night and stab them in their sleep. But I digress...

So maybe this dream means nothing. Maybe he is crafting a really Nice Blow-Off. Maybe he is rejecting me to make me happy. Maybe to be happy with me is so intimidating that it will actually not be a good thing. Maybe he is taking time to think and not using that as an excuse to stall in telling me how he really feels.

I hate oxymorons. They are bad. And I don't mean good.

Jazz In The Key of Life

2006-03-11T03:06:00.000-05:00

I am a jazz fanatic. Mostly the older stuff, but I can appreciate some of the new stuff too. I love to hear it behind a rap track, or under slammin' vocals, or alone in it's own complexity.

I finally figured out why I love jazz so much. Of course the obvious - it's a complex form of music. You can almost hear the notes conflicting with themselves, but that's not all.

Jazz is like clay - your mind can mold it into whatever mood you want it to be in. Jazz can be sad, happy, mellow, upbeat, erotic, scholastic, spiritual...the list goes on. Someone told me recently that they didn't like jazz (GASP) - that they just couldn't get into it.

Impossible, I said. Jazz is forgiving. Jazz is easily influenced. It can be what you make it. I'm listening to it right now as I type, wondering how music can move your soul in such a way. It's a soundtrack to your thoughts. No matter what's on my mind, it fits. I LOVE that.

I don't really know why I felt compelled to blog about Jazz, but it's hard to put into words where this music takes me. It rescues me. Without asking questions. Or imprinting anything on my mind besides music notes....*sigh*...

Random Thoughts - I can't believe people didn't know I had a tattoo! I swear, as soon as I got it, I showed it to anyone who would look.

Is there a way to put emoticons on blogs?

Is it possible to feel like you're being used and to feel useless at the same time?

Always pondering...

Random

2006-03-06T02:39:00.000-05:00

I had a fun-filled weekend. It full, as usual, with activity, but at least it was fun stuff. I have been having some random thoughts, so I'll share:

I really need a new hairstyle.

I am probably one of the few women in the world that does not have a shoe fetish. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I basically have three pairs of shoes that I wear with everything. Everyone has their vice, I guess. You know, the one thing you splurge on. My vices are food, cookbooks, toiletries (from hair products to perfume), and yarn.

Is there a such thing as having too many goals?

I tried Moroccan food for the first time today, and I loved it! It was messy (you have to eat with your hands) but it was quite tasty.

Am I a horrible person because I take forever to return phone calls? Or worse for not calling people back because I know they will go off on me for not calling sooner?

I think I want another tattoo...but where?

That's all for now. Holla!

Back in the swing of things or The Interruption of Everything

2006-03-01T02:15:00.000-05:00

I'm baaaccckkk! My vacation was great! I had a great time chillin with Millz and Kellz and my other peoples in Ohio. I kicked it hard, laughed about 10 lbs off, and visited some of my favorite spots. I almost didn't want to come back...

But I did. And instead of posting a ridiculously long recap of The Talk, I'll just give you an excerpt:

The first part was basically just me babbling and hemming and hawing, trying to get out the words that would express what was on my heart. Imagine some really great quotes, some nonsense sprinkled here and there, and a few things I'm still not sure I should have said. And cut to...
Me: ...so, basically, I think you're a great guy.
Him: (sheepish smile) I appreciate that.
Me: You do? (more of a comment than a question)
Him: yeah. (awkward silence)
Me: ok...that's it?
Him: (nervous laughter) For now...I mean, it's not everyday a beautiful woman sits me down and tells me how she feels about me...give me a minute to process! (involuntary smile from me) You've had time to think about this, but you just now tellin' me...
Me: ok, ok. That's fair.

*insert some reiterating of what was already said to make sure he understood me. Then how he felt about me since before we even knew each other, up to that point. A few more compliments about my physical appearance (COOL POINTS like a mug!) and then, out of nowhere...

Him: So what don't you like about me?
Me: Huh?
* he repeats.
Me: Why would you ask me something like that?
Him: Just answer me.
* I told him he took a long time to explain things, and I would "get it" about five mintues before he finally stops talking. Then I asked him the same question, and he says (brace yourself) that I was...dramatic. Me? Dramatic? ;o) He told me when I talked that I reminded him of The Matrix (he proceeds to do his arms in that waving motion that Keanu Reeves does). I laugh, not because it's funny, but because he looks ridiculous doing that arm thing to describe the way I talk. The nerve!

Basically, I got it off my chest. He needs time to think. We had a few laughs, and now I'm waiting...

I feel:
relieved
a bit confused( and a little like once again, I am being placed in a position to mind-read).
anxious
aroused (I know, the strangest things trigger that..)
excited

I think that's it. I left out a lot of details, mainly because it was kind of surreal to me. I did everything my mother told me never to do - make the first move, tell him how you feel before you know he feels, and a wealth of other things.

But we all know that the only thing constant in the world is change, so Mother Dear, send a prayer up for your baby girl who is all grown up and ready to make some Major Changes.

I'll keep you posted on my destiny.

Snow Day has a new meaning...

2006-02-14T19:40:00.000-05:00

Happy V-Day everyone! I went out today for the first time in three days, and I am trying not to be annoyed by this:

What in the heezy?!?! Maybe I could make a nice life back down in Georgia...here is a phone conversation between my mother and I this morning:

Mom: Hey! I heard ya'll got all that snow up there.
Me: Yep, about 27 inches.
Mom: Daaannnggg, you better get you some snow boots. I couldn't tell you where to get them, cuz we don't have those down here.
Me: I know, I'm gonna get some.
Mom: Shoo, we almost got hit down here. I woke up this morning, and there was snow on the car. I had to get Rob (my Dad) to brush it off before I could go anywhere this morning. And it's cold.
Me: When I stepped outside, the snow came up to my knees, Ma.
Mom: Oh...well, up in North GA they got a few inches, so really, we got some snow.
Me: ok, Ma...**cut to subject change**

I guess the grass is always greener, huh? I'd give anything to just have enough snow to dust the car windows, and it probably all melted by lunchtime. Freakin' Southerners. ;o)

A Valentine's message to a special someone: I'll be your wind, and take you wherever you want to go, as long as you remember to throw caution to it.

Do something special tonight; you have an excuse (not that you need one).

Funny Thoughts and a New Meme...

2006-02-09T00:56:00.000-05:00

I discovered this on Queue's blog and thought it was hilarious. I also discovered on her blog...a new meme! You guys know how much I LOVE doing these things. If you're tagged, you gotta do it! No grumbling...I can hear you...:o)

10 THOUGHTS TO PONDER in 2006

Number 10 - Life is sexually transmitted.

Number 9 - Good health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one dies.

Number 8 - Men have two emotions: Hungry and Horny. If you see him without an erection, make him a sandwich.

Number 7 - Give a person a fish and you feed them for a day; teach a person to use the Internet and they won't bother you for weeks.

Number 6 - Some people are like a Slinky.....not really good for anything, but you still can't help but smile when you see one tumble down the stairs.

Number 5 - Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in hospitals dying of nothing.

Number 4 - All of us could take a lesson from the weather. It pays no attention to criticism .

Number 3 - Why does a slight tax increase cost you two hundred dollars and a substantial tax cut saves you thirty cents?

Number 2 - In the 60's, people took acid to make the world weird. Now the world is weird and people take Prozac to make it normal.

AND THE NUMBER 1 THOUGHT FOR 2006:We know exactly where one cow with 'mad cow disease' is located among the millions of cows in America but we haven't got a clue as where thousands of illegal immigrants and terrorists are located.Maybe we should put the Department of Agriculture in charge of immigration.

MEME

Three 3 screen names I have: I'll keep that to myself...what happens in Blog World, stays in Blog World.

3 physical things I like about myself: my hair (although at this moment, it is getting on my last nerve), my eyes, and my shoulders.

3 physical things I don't like about myself: my hands, my feet, and the bags under my eyes

3 parts of my heritage: African, Blackfoot Indian ( I think) and Caucasian

3 of my everyday essentials: internet, television, and cell phone

3 of my favorite musicians: Stevie Wonder, Jill Scott, Lizz Wright

3 of my favorite songs (at the moment): Wanna Love You by Thicke and Pharell, Unpredictable by Jaime Foxx, and Beautiful Surprise by India.Arie

3 things I want in a relationship: peace, trust, and love

3 common lies you tell: I'm fine - I don't mind - I don't really feel sick

3 of my hobbies right now: knitting, making soap, and cooking

3 things I want to do really badly now: have sex - eat red velvet cake - talk to a certain person.

3 careers I've considered: teaching - being an author - personal trainer (try not to laugh too hard)

3 places I would like to go on vacation to: Paris - Greece - Africa

3 kid's names I like: girls - Isabella, Brooklyn, and Anaya boys - Quinn, David, and Marlon

3 ways that I'm a stereotypical dude/lady: I always keep my nails done, no matter how broke I am - I do not any kind of yard or lawn work - I love flowy, romantic clothing.

3 people I would like to see take this quiz: oh, it's gonna be more than that! Kelly, Fuego, divineladi, Bnice, Max, and TheChosenOne, consider yourselves tagged!

An Update

2006-02-08T16:52:00.000-05:00

Just in case you didn't know, there are two major hobbies in my life at the moment that are taking up most of my time. They are cooking and knitting/crocheting. They have consumed me so much that I have dedicated a blog to each of them. In case you want to check them out, here are the web addresses:

neoknitster.blogspot.com

foodiecall.blogspot.com

Feel free to let me know what you think! Holla!

I Need The Wiz...

2006-02-03T18:05:00.000-05:00

...to give me some Courage. I am about to make a bold move. I know this guy...we've been friends for about five years. He has always had my back, even though we live far away from each other. Our friendship has remained in tact. After my last visit, I felt something for him that I never felt before. It was a simple feeling - that we should be together. I pushed it aside for a while, because I live here, he lives there, and I felt like there was no way it could work. Plus, he once had those feelings for me, and they were unrequited on my end. For the last four months, he has been heavy on my mind. I'm gonna visit some friends who live in the same city as him in a few weeks.

And I have decided to tell him how I feel.

I have convinced myself that I am prepared for whatever his response may be. For the first time in a long, long time...I am nervous. I mean damn near scared. The last time I dredged up enough whatever to tell a man how I feel about him, he was mine for a year and some change after that. Do I get two lucky breaks? We're both at points in our lives where we can be flexible about where we live, so...

I've gone over the script in my head a million times. I know where each inflection will go, how I will turn my head just so when I say that part...you know how it goes.

Now...will this read to him as bold, courageous love of my life, or overly-aggressive 'one-of-those' sistahs? I know him well, but brothas never cease to continue surprising me, you know what I'm sayin'?

If he's not the one, he's not the one. I'm sure the embarassment will be minimal. At least I have somewhere to escape to. But my heart says, nothing ventured, nothing gained and you gotta take risks, and every other appropriate cliche' for this situation.

I'm puttin' myself out there, ya'll. And no matter what the end result, I know deep down in my heart that I'm doing the right thing.

This is for Aggressive Sistahs everywhere! Wish me luck...16 days and counting...

Pre-Valentine's Day Declaration

2006-01-24T04:00:00.000-05:00

As Valentine's Day is fast approaching and I find myself (once again) without a date, much less someone really special in my life, I decided that my reflection would be a little different this year. Instead of moping and wallowing in my own self-pity about being alone, I'm gonna celebrate a few things.

1. I am blessed to have been in love once before; it was a wonderful experience. Even though it ended sadly, I wouldn't take it back for anything. At the risk of sounding cliche', it is definitely better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.

2. I might celebrate Valentine's Day with the person I should love the most - MYSELF. Might sound cheesy, but it's true. No one can love me better than me. And how will anyone ever know how to love you if you don't know what it feels like to love you? Feel me? I can say that since last year, I've gotten better at it.

3. I am proud of myself for putting up with only a minimal amount of bullshit. I'd rather be alone than to settle for some of the men that have crossed my path. At a time when it was easy for me to fall into the need for validation from some a-hole, I did not. Man, that feels good, and that feeling can kick Loneliness' ass.

4. I was brave and took risks this year. Even though I have been burned before, I didn't let that keep me from getting out there and seeing what was up. Sometimes, there is just no chemistry, and there is nothing you can do about that. But I would never walk into a store and a buy a dress before I see every dress that store has to offer me. Dating sucks, but alas, is unavoidable for one who has love to give.

5. I can look at couples around me, and be happy that they have love in their lives. I have a lot of friends getting married or have gotten married recently, and I can honestly say, I have a healthy admiration of what they have. They really give me hope that all is not lost.

6. I know the difference between being alone and solitude. Everyone needs solitude. It allows me to date myself. You can't love someone you don't know, and what better way to get to know someone than to spend some time with them. So I learn to enjoy spending time with me, and getting to know me better. Plus, I'm a cheap date. ;o)

7. I can rely on other relationships in my life and realize that there is a great deal of love there as well. Thank goodness there is more than one kind of love!

I am still human; I am still trying to find that perfect medium between A Woman Scorned and Woman With Heart On Her Sleeve. Until I get there, I'll continue to celebrate and proclaim every epiphany that comes to my mind, so everyone can see how much I have grown.

Back In The Day...

2006-01-17T00:02:00.000-05:00

The other night, I was talking to a dear friend of mine about what it would be like if we had grown up together. Then we started telling tales of our lives in high school and elementary, and I was overcome with a feeling of warm nostalgia. Oh, the phases I have gone through! I thought it would be fun to take a little trip back. I won't make it a tag, but I would love to read something like this from my fellow Bloggers!

Kindergarten - 1985
I was five years old, and had been given the official title of Mouth of the South. I was a Chatty Cathy! I loved school. I had an imaginary friend named Dudabug, and I wrote a song about her that I would sing to my mother everyday when she picked me up from daycare. For show-and-tell, I would memorize commercials and say (or sing) them word for word in front of my class. Sometimes I would do tv theme songs from my favorite shows! I still had a slight lisp and my c's sounded like t's, and my l's sounded y's. My speech has come a long way since then!

5th grade - 1990
It was my first year at the performing arts school. I loved it! I also had my first boyfriend - we went together for all of Math class, and then I broke up with him because he gave me a gold bracelet, then told me I had to give it back before the end of the day because it was his sister's. My friends and I founded the Car Club - I was Pretty Corvette, and my best friend was Pretty Porsche. We had matching folders with pictures of our car and our car names on them. My neighbor and I also had a club called The Dead Bug's Society, where we would find dead bugs and give them proper funerals. If business was slow, we would just kill one, and then give it a beautiful funeral.

10th grade - 1995
I was a sophomore in high school. I was never caught in public without make-up and my signature Fuschia lipstick on. I was pretty popular - plays, show choir, student council, peer mediators, Model UN - I even did the morning announcements. I had a lot of friends, and we had so much fun. We sang during lunch, just like the kids in Fame. For fun, my friends and I would get a ride to the mall, go to the movies, or have slumber parties. We would go to my house and have karaoke contests and make up code names for our crushes. My friend TJ and I would tell each other romance stories that would give Harlequin a run for their money! I had the lead in one of the school plays, and I had my first real high school boyfriend. He would let me wear his jacket and meet me by my locker to kiss, and he was a horrible kisser! I'm sure he's better now. I was also dieting every week, counting calories, and at 5"9 and 115 lbs, thought I was a cow. I always wore flowy dresses, tights and Blossom hats. And even though my boyfriend couldn't kiss for shit, he was the first boy to make me feel pretty.

To Be Continued...

I've Been Tagged!

2006-01-13T13:02:00.000-05:00

I actually have already done this, but I'll repost some of my answers in case there are new readers. Here is how it goes:

The first player of the game starts with the topic, "5 weird habits about yourself". People who get tagged need to write an entry about their five weird habits, as well as state this rule clearly. In the end you need to choose the next 5 people to be tagged, and link to their web-journals. Don't forget to leave a comment in their blog/journal that says "you have been tagged" and tell them to read yours.

- I love inappropriate music. The nastier the lyrics, the better. I am one of those people that supports the artists' original vision, no matter how raunchy. I can do without the corny blank spaces and bleeps and such. I'm grown, and I can handle it.

- I talk to myself...a lot. I sometimes have to catch myself on the train so people won't think I'm crazy. Also, so I won't attract other crazies. I was once told that talking to yourself is a sign of intelligence...

- When I was little, I used to eat butter! And mayonnaise, and icing, and anything that is not supposed to be eaten without the support of other food. I still can be found with my finger in a tub of icing, cookie dough, and caramel sauce.

- I have a wide knowledge of television theme songs. I mean, I can sing every lyric too, not just hum the tune. I used to do them for show and tell at school; a different one every Friday. And when I got tired of that, I memorized commercials and recited them word for word.

- I have OCD when it comes to my bed covers. I cannot STAND messy bedcovers, I don't care what went down. I have serious issues when folks tangle themselves up in sheets and comforters. Drives me nuts.

Alrighty, kel, DivineLadi, JMama, TheChosenOne, and Fuego...you've been tagged! Don't worry, if you don't get to this post, I'll remind you. Can't to read it!

My New Year's No-Solutions

2006-01-06T02:43:00.000-05:00

Ok, at first I was gonna make a list of New Year's resolutions on this post. I decided against it, because I remembered - I never follow them. So this year I came up with No-solutions. These are things that I would like to change, but may have no control over or they have to resolve themselves.

And I'm keeping them to myself. I found that when you tell people things you plan to do, you are immediately responsible for the plans. Even though I believe in reserving the right to change your mind, some people don't, and I don't feel like justifying anything, and quite frankly, don't feel like hearing their mouth.

This is the year of taking it all in stride. I have worked and driven towards certain goals, and have been busy preparing myself for what lies ahead. So now, I sit back, take care of me, and wait. No more "solutions" to too many problems that I can't and shouldn't try to fix, be them mine or anyone elses.

Patience is a virtue. And in 2006, I will practice it dilligently. That is my New Year's No-Solution.

Happy New Year

2006-01-03T01:04:00.000-05:00

Well...it's finally 2006. I'll be signing important documents 2005 untill at least mid-February. But I am so excited for what this new year has to offer.

I rang in the New Year at a very crowded party. I was aggravated untill about 11:45, and then I rang in the new year with a good friend of mine. Had a few drinks, and danced the night away. It was tough getting in; I thought maybe Biggie had come back to kick it for 2006! Security was tight, and I was getting manhandled left and right. Just when I was ready to start throwing some bows ATL style, I got the VIP nod (after about a thousand people with regular tickets had already gotten in) and hustled my way in. The DJ was great, so he saved the night.

This year, I haven't decided whether or not to come up with resolutions. I usually never keep up with them, and I make new ones through the summer. So this year, I would like to thank God for my health and well-being. I'm alive, well, not starving, and of pretty sound mind considering the year I've had. But no stepping into the new year focusing on the old and negative. I say bring it on, 2006. I'm ready. I've had a whole year to prepare and I'm ready.

Since living in New York, I've heard people say that most New Yorkers, at any given time, are always searching for at least one of three things: a place to live, a job, and a significant other. I'm claiming all three for 2006, but I'll take two out of three. (Obviously, the job and apartment take precedence - sp?) But we shall see...it's a new year folks...

Home for the Holidays

2005-12-27T01:42:00.000-05:00

A quick recap of my holiday vacation extravaganza:

I did most of my gifting the homemade and internet route, so not too much last minute shopping. Yay. I did pick out my mom's gift from my dad, and much to all of our surprise, she actually liked it and for the first time in years, won't be taking it back. Double Yay.

I've only been here for a week and have already been to IHOP twice. Next week will be Waffle House, and first week back in NY - Chez Diet.

My gifts were spectacular to say the least, and this year, they will all fit into my luggage!

Went down to my grandmother's farm for the Annual Family Gathering. Always a blast. Shitload of food. And no one looking at you funny when you get seconds or thirds - in fact; it's damn near a requirement. For out little Christmas program, my little cousins only played us half of their Christmas concert material with their little instruments, and as a bonus encore, my quiet little cousin blew out an instrumental version of (my favorite Southern anthem at the moment) "Laffy Taffy" on her flute. It was f-ing classic. Then my littlest cousin, after singing the usual boring Christmas carols, sang us a chorus of "My Name Is Charlie" from Charlie Wilson. Imagine a six-year-old singing about getting that number so he can take you out sometime. And I have it on video! On top of that, he gave me a beautiful picture of Spongebob Squarepants to put on my fridge.

My mother did not find some way to embarass like she normally does. And my family has FINALLY realized that I am too old to stand up in front of them and sing on demand.

No fights over where folks were gonna sleep, and there is a new generation of young 'uns for clean-up duty. And, no lie, my granny bought me a teddy for Christmas. Not a bear, but actual lingerie. I kid you not.

Woke up to a good old-fashioned country breakfast, which included a bowl of butter with a few grits sprinkled in, pan-fried pork sausage, eggs made in the same skillet as the sausage, and fresh coffee brewed on the stove, because my grandmother has never operated a coffee-maker in her life. God bless her.

Went outside and took a few pictures with the cows and the beautiful backdrop that is my granny's backyard. Went to go see my 90-year-old great-grandmother (Big Momma is what we call her) and had a conversation with her. She is still as sharp as a tack. My other grandmother did not have nearly as many ailments as she usually has (Somtimes I'm tempted to ask her what's right instead of what's wrong - shorter list.) Spent some time with my biological father and actually didn't want to roll my eyes and walk away from him once. He actually gave me a present this year. It was used, but it's a start.

And now I'm chillin'. Spending time with the family. Getting in touch with old friends.

Just like Beyonce', Queen Latifah and dem on the Wal-Mart commercials, I love being home for the holidays.

Reflecting...

2005-12-12T04:43:00.000-05:00

As the holiday season sets in and the year is coming to end (and as I've had a lot of time on my hands lately), I've been reflecting over some things. One of the things is friendship. I value my friends almost as much as I value my family.

A year is a long time. Long enough to strengthen friendships, and long enough for some friendships to be put to the test. It is also long enough for some friends' season to be up, and their reason to be validated, and another year tacked onto their lifetime committment. I have learned to take all of these in stride.

For a sensitive gal like myself, anytime I evaluate my relationships, and things change (for better or worse) I get a tug at my heart strings. It's as natural as breathing to me.

So I want to take this opportunity to say to all of my friends - Thank You. Thank you for allowing me to be your friend, and thank you for allowing me to be a friend to you (because we all know that sometimes the gift is the giving). Thank you for having my back in the blog world and beyond. Thanks for your tolerance. ;o) I won't list names; you know who you are. If you aren't sure, try not to guage it by how much we see each other, how much we call each other, what we've done for each other, whether or not we borrow each other's clothes, and other miscellaneous stuff like that. Here are some things I think about when I think about my friends:

How well you really know me and vice versa.
how much I talk about you in your absence.
How many times we have finished each other's sentences.
how well we get along, even if the zodiac says we shouldn't.
if my mother knows who I'm talking about when I say your name in conversation.
laughter we have shared, cuz you know I love to laugh!
whether or not a day goes by when you don't cross my mind at least once.
If I smile when someone says your name out of the blue.
you've seen me and loved me at my worst.
you've seen me and loved me at my best.
and so on so forth...

You can probably fill in a hundred more things. I can think a half dozen catch phrases. Boyfriends come and go, but friends last forever. Make new friends, but keep the old - one is silver and the other gold.

Take a second to fully enjoy this sappy moment...

So yeah...just like the Golden Girls...

**Thank you for being a friend.**

2005-12-09T04:46:00.000-05:00

Ok, so after about twenty blogs complaining about the guys I meet, I finally met a ncie one.

And I'm not interested.

I know, I know. Never satisfied. But let me tell you how it went down.

I was in the nail salon, and he was next to me getting a manicure. (don't worry, he got them buffed, no polish - I checked.) We started up a conversation, and I enjoyed talking to him. No sparks or fireworks, just good conversation. He asked for my number, I gave it to him, blah blah blah, fast-forward to the date.

He shows up at my door with a bottle of wine (not too cheap, not too expensive), which was a very nice gesture. As we walked to our destination, he made sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk, held my arm as I stepped over a pothole, etc. This guy pulled out all the stops.

We sat down to dinner, and the next thing I know, a couple of hours had passed, and I was still the only one talking. I started getting a bit paranoid about being self-absorbed.

ME: Am I talking too much?

HIM: No, no! I like hearing you talk. Please continue.

So I did. Then I got tired of hearing myself talk. He didn't. Then it hit me: sheer and utter boredom. This guy was so nice, bless his heart, but he was boring me to tears. I knew enough about him, it's not like he didn't talk at all, but the conversation was just...eh. He didn't make me laugh, he didn't make me react at all. We were just talking. I could talk to some random stranger in line at the grocery store and feel the same way I felt talking to him.

So now I'm torn between the He Deserves A Chance Second Date, and Complete Avoidance. There was nothing wrong with him, so why not go for the second date, right? Maybe he gets funnier and more charismatic over time. But I keep thinking of other things I have to do in order to get out of it. So basically, subconsciously, I don't want to go on a second date.

If I were to ask a question right now, I probably have already answered it. See, I'm getting better about that.

So I guess I'm just not that into him. Not his fault. Not my fault. It is just not gonna happen. Now for the fun part.

Letting him know I'm not interested. And for bonus points, not apologizing for it. *sigh*

To be continued...

Left-Brainer's Lament

2005-12-07T02:24:00.000-05:00

Hello, my name is DramaQueen, and I am left-brained. Well, mostly left-brained. Experts say that there are people that mostly think with the left side of their brains, and some the right. The right side is supposedly the logical side, and the left side is the emotional side.

I have found myself to be mostly a left-brained thinker. It's a gift and a curse.

It's a gift because I easily feel compassion and empathy, and I am always aware of how I feel. I can rarely accurately put my thoughts into words, but the times I am able to do so, I am most likely explaining the way I feel about something. It's a curse because to people who don't know me, it makes me appear naive, dumb, overly-emotional, and it makes people take my kindness for weakness.

The left side of my brain kept me away from my beloved blog for about a month. I am fully aware that people have the right to post their views and opinions in Blog World - it's a free space, and you can't get in trouble for thinking a certain way. But the comments left on my recent blog before this one left me...well, offended. I felt personally attacked and my feelings were hurt. I had to pause.

It took me a month to realize that, if this person can write whatever they feel like writing in this free space, then so can I. One person's opinion should not send me running away from Blog World, with my precious thoughts packed up in my briefcase. I knew that those accusations weren't even true. If I had been thinking with the right side of my brain, I would have known earlier that the logical thing to do would be to acknowledge the person's opinion, disagree, and keep it moving.

So consider this post the beginning of me waking up the right side of my brain and keeping it moving.

But just because the right side of my brain is alert and motivated doesn't mean that the left side of my brain is being put to sleep. Balance is essential. Look out, Blog World.

Speaking from my therapists' couch...directly to my over-protective friends...

DramaQueen is back. How ya like that? ;o)

Unanswered Booty Call

2005-11-10T02:04:00.000-05:00

I never post twice in one day, but I am about to spit BB's I'm so pissed.

Here is a little back story for you: There was a guy. We'll call him Nick. I met him in a bar. We talked; the brotha seemed intense. I was immediately attracted. He called me a few times, I called him a few times - we were having a hard time connecting. So he stopped connecting. Every now and then we would run into each other at the mutual hangout; I would get a late-night phone call, just to talk. Then it stopped. Whatever, I wasn't disappointed or anything. I figured he just wasn't feeling me. Months go by. A cordial hello when I see him. a few phone calls. Then no phone calls. Cut to about a half an hour ago:

1:30 AM

Me: hello?
Him: Hey, what's up?
Me: Hi. How are you?
Him: Chillin', chillin'. What are you up to?
Me: the same. Just watching television. A little late for a week night, isn't it?
Him: I ain't got shit to do tommorrow.
Me: Oh, I see. So...what's up?
Him: Nothin. What's been up with you lately?
Me: Yeah, it has been a while...
Him: Same ole?
Me: yeah, pretty much.
Him: So, I was hoping I could see you.
Me: Ok...wait, tonight?
Him: Yeah, like now.
Me: Oh, I'm in for the night. I'm in my pj's.
Him: I just wanted to swing through, you know, see you for a minute.
Me: You wanna come over here tonight?
Him: Yeah...I'll sleep on the couch, so it's nothing like that...
Me: Naw, I don't think so.
Him: I can't come see you?
Me: Nick, are you really calling me at 1:30 in the morning trying to come over here?
Him: I just got back in town tonight. I just got back into Brooklyn just a little while ago.
Me: I just saw you last weekend.
Him: I went out of town. Look, I'm not trying to come over and start nothing, I just wanted to chill.
Me: I'm not saying that..it's just...
Him: (cutting me off) So...no? Alright, cool. Alright. I understand. (sarcasm here)
Me: I didn't mean to be accusatory.
Him: It sounds like it.
Me: Well, I didn't mean to be.
Him: Well, get some sleep. I'll holla atcha later.
Me: Goodnight.
Him: yeah.

You know, I forgot I had that sign on my forehead the last time I saw him...you know, the one that reads "Stuck On Stupid" across the front. Seriously? Men never cease to amaze me. We haven't gone on so much as one date, I have never even seen what you look like in daylight and you are going to call me at 1:30 in the morning to come over here and chill?!?!?!?!

Wow. I haven't heard from this brotha in over a month. And when you decide you want to hang out with me, it's during booty call hours. NO ONE has good intentions at 1:30 in the morning, I should know. That really pissed me off. Not that he tried to come over here, but that he actually thought I would think he wasn't going to try anything. I am so much better than being somebody's 1:30 am company.

I sweated this guy, too. I thought he was so nice, and I really wanted to get to know him. And he evaporated from my life; his choice. Then had the nerve to give me attitude when he couldn't come over and crash on my couch a month later. Which, by the way, we all know he had no intentions of doing.

Ladies (and gentlemen if it applies), please speak on this if you think I overreacted. Am I just being an ABW (Angry Black Woman)? I really liked this guy at one point. We always called each other to see if we can connect and hang out, and now when he tries to, I say no.

Enough of Devil's Advocate, fuck that.

Sprint should offer a special Booty Call Block; I'd pay extra for that. Even my voicemail would have rejected that bullshit.

I'm No Carrie Bradshaw

2005-11-09T17:02:00.000-05:00

I was watching Sex in the City reruns last night, and I realized just how opposite my life is from the girls on that show. I am single, and I live in New York City, but wouldn't you know, it is not the same.

Carrie once said that she feels like New York is her one true love. Like she was in a relationship with her beloved city.

Well, New York and I have an abusive relationship. NYC consistently kicks my ass every chance he gets.

Let's make some comparisons, shall we? All of the girls have great jobs that they love. In my small group of friends here in the city, I would say 90% of us hate our jobs. I would love to blog for a deadline once a week, and spend the rest of the time dating, drinking martinis, and going to Central Park. Alas, I have bills to pay.

None of them ever take public transportation. Must be nice not to have to bump elbows during rush hour with a man whose last shower was probably before I moved here . And he's the one who wants to hang on to the overhead bar instead of the one you just reach out and hold.

I'm positive that all of my friends put together don't have the shoe collection that Carrie has, and I'm sure my friends make more money than she does. She has about $8,000 worth of shoes. Do you know what I could with $8,000? Be a happy New Yorker, that's what. Or at least a New Yorker with a little less debt.

*For the avid watchers - when myself or my friends find a great guy like Aidan, we don't fuck it up by sleeping with the asscrack who broke our hearts...we marry them. (shout out to Max and D!)

Samantha probably has more sex than all of us put together. I don't know this for sure, but most conversations with my friends consists of bouts of irregularity and period cramps as opposed to who got great head or the best orgasm the night before. I could be wrong, but I doubt we are getting it like those girls.

The SITC girls always meet stockbrokers and bankers and men with great and interesting jobs. I meet men who still live with their mothers and are in the process of starting an "internet business" as soon as they get some money or some equally dumb shit like that.

And I guess the weather in HBO's New York is slightly different; I never see them trudging through five feet of snow to meet for brunch. Hell, I have never seen them in appropriate outer wear for New York weather!

Maybe my experience with New York is different because I'm not from here; I'm an implant. I have little to no loyalty. I am only happy here when I have a good gig, enough money to dispose of, not have to ride the subway to get to where I'm going, and I am convinced that my husband lives down South somewhere, giving his momma flowers or something.

But I can say this; I wouldn't have been able to make it this far without the support of my Mirandas, my Charlottes, and my Samanthas. You know who you are ladies. Whether we are talking about poop, periods, or food...you make this city bearable. Even without the Sex!

Little Known Things About Me

2005-11-07T03:03:00.000-05:00

Ok, here goes. No gasping out loud!

- I love inappropriate music. The nastier the lyrics, the better. I am one of those people that supports the artists' original vision, no matter how raunchy. I can do without the corny blank spaces and bleeps and such. I'm grown, and I can handle it.

- I talk to myself...a lot. I sometimes have to catch myself on the train so people won't think I'm crazy. Also, so I won't attract other crazies. I was once told that talking to yourself is a sign of intelligence...

- When I was little, I used to eat butter! And mayonnaise, and icing, and anything that is not supposed to be eaten without the support of other food. I still can be found with my finger in a tub of icing, cookie dough, and caramel sauce.

- I love Disney cartoon movies. I can sit and watch The Little Mermaid from start to finish for the 30th time. Can't help it.

- I own porn. That's right, I do. Deal with it. I'm grown.

- I love Brazilian music. There is something about people singing in Portugeuese that is pleasing to my ears. I have a pretty extensive collection of Latin jazz.

- I have a wide knowledge of television theme songs. I mean, I can sing every lyric too, not just hum the tune. I used to do them for show and tell at school; a different one every Friday. And when I got tired of that, I memorized commercials and recited them word for word.

- I have OCD when it comes to my bed covers. I cannot STAND messy bedcovers, I don't care what went down. I have serious issues when folks tangle themselves up in sheets and comforters. Drives me nuts.

Ok, that's enough humiliation for now.

Something's Gotta Give

2005-11-02T14:41:00.000-05:00

So we're back to relationships. I tried to stay away from the topic for fear of my blog becoming "The Relationship Blog". But one of my biggest fears is growing old alone. I know I'm young, but I'm too old to change. And after so many let-downs, one begins to say to herself, maybe it's me...

But it's not. I am an ideal candidate...kind of. I am smart, affectionate, open-minded, sexual, cute, funny, and lovable. I also have a tendency to move chasing my career, which seems to be having trouble taking off, I have a very untraditional daily routine, I don't take to kindly to being told what to do, and surprisingly enough, I tend to intimidate men...go figure!

It doesn't have to happen like it does in the movies, I just don't want to find myself being the cool older lady on the block. The one who always has some cookies or treats for the kids, and the grown folks come over on the weekends to play cards. And everyody in the neighborhood talks about her behind her back: She's so cool...wonder why she never married? Such a shame...

If it is my destiny to grow old alone, I wish I knew now so I could really let go and have some fun.

I blame my mother for my impatience. She was married at 19 and had her first baby at 22. Seems young, right? But now, my mother is 47, bursting with youth, and is more fun now than she was growing up, and believe me, she was loads of fun while she was raising me. She still kisses her husband in the kitchen, and even though she denies, I know they still get it on. I want that. I want to know that I am capable of that. When I was in high-school, I wanted to be done having my kids at 27. You can laugh here if you want.

I am scared to death of committing to one person, but I swear to myself that if I ever got the chance with the right one, I wouldn't fuck it all up.

Ah, the game of chance. For every five guys I give my number to, one of them may call. And turn out to be an ass-crack. And the one I actually am interested in...we won't even go there. That blog to come in the near future.

Sick and Tired of having the same compaints, sick and tired of being lonely, sick and tired of trying to figure shit out, sick and tired of wondering if it's me, and sick and tired of blogging about why I don't have anyone. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired.

When does 'when I least expect it' happen?? I always don't expect it, so there goes that. I have adopted the 'Just Give Them A Chance' doctrine, and that is always a miserable flop. So now I just wait, alone and lonely, waiting for this wonderful man to just pop up on my doorstep.

Something's Gotta Give.

My Googlism

2005-11-01T02:24:00.000-05:00

Ok, I got this from Max and thought it was cute. You go to the website www.googlism.com and type in your name. It then pulls up every sentence that starts with [your name here] is...

Here is what came up for me (I also starred my favorites):

torie is the ghost of the total package
torie is the ghost of perfection*
torie is a hand blown cased glass pendant or wall sconce that prov ides d own light and diffused light*
torie is as real
torie is my favorite type of heroine*
torie is now 3½ months old nearly 4
torie is one of the original members of nomad squadron and one of only 2 character's that i know of*
torie is the snowman of the total package
torie is a strong character*
torie is invited to playdates and birthday parties along with everyone else in her class*
torie is one of the few mini schnauzers with both a championship and an obedience title
torie is about a year old and a darling little girl
torie is my name
torie is the daughter of a copacabana singer who was discovered by milton berle*
torie is currently paying $1
torie is available at the students' union welfare office if you would like to have an informal chat about your financial situation*
torie is exceptionally independent and stubborn*
torie is qwerty's partner for the boys in blue
torie is the little sister of absentminded*
torie is sponsored by the newkirk business club
torie is a great character whose struggles with her professional and personal lives*
torie is my oldest nephew
torie is divorced
torie is one of at least four sufferers of the disease with ties to the local navy junior reserve officer training corps
torie is in middle school and 13 in the 8th grade
torie is the most common
torie is at the focal point of a family feud
torie is 2 1/2 years old and would be a big help on your cleaning days
torie is a very sweet person
torie is nuts about him
torie is now doing volunteer work for courage center in golden valley
torie is also way too precocious*
torie is very opinionated*
torie is having a bit of a spasm
torie is the 1994 spelling bee champ
torie is having it a bit rough right now
torie is summoned by clarissa for the reading of her will
torie is having such a blast
torie is majoring in biology
torie is currently majoring in visual and public arts
torie is right*
torie is currently executive director of the liberty hill foundation
torie is our utility player of the year
torie is lousy company when they are gone
torie is asked to research the life a jazz singer popular in the 30?s
torie is getting a chance to pull the otoliths from the fish herself and working on juvenile otoliths
torie is also ill
torie is a tax manager and is responsible for coordinating tax reporting and consulting engagements for closely
torie is very smart and out
torie is a pathetic loser
torie is a brit with great taste
torie is found standing over clarissa's body holding a pillow*
torie is tired*
torie is involved through her job at usc with the film industry and michael is retired from it
torie is staying busy with film and news crews going through her office when they want to film on the university of southern california
torie is over the worst of it*
torie is not careful*
torie is a cheerleader for anyone who's coming out*
torie is sitting here with me and we are crying together over all the beautiful angels in the heavenly playground*
torie is very cool

Weird huh?

All In The Fullness of Time...

2005-10-27T03:10:00.000-04:00

...this is a quote from one of my favorite books. And it just recently started making sense to me. At the time, I thought, gee, this character is unrealistically patient. But that was a few years ago, and now I think I am grasping the concept.

If you think about it, time is full. It is hard for us to wrap our brains around time. The beginning, the middle, and the end. It is all abstract. And people are always saying things like "in due time" or "it's only a matter of time"..."only time will tell"..."time heals all wounds".

How many days is 'due time'? How much time is in a 'matter'? What exactly is time going to say when it tells? And what healing properties does time have? A little out there, I know, but if you think about it, none of it makes sense.

So this guy in this book is dealing with a love interest, who is being a little impatient. He looks at her says, "all in the fullness of time". And it shut her up. If you can think about time being full, you won't worry about how much time...it doesn't have a task or a responsibility. There is no due or matter attatched to it, and it doesn't have to heal or tell anything. It is just full, so deal with it. All it's asking of you is to wait. You feel me?

So this thought process took me back to when I first broke up with my one true love. I took the break-up pretty hard. I thought I would never get over it. And people kept telling me all the time sayings - don't worry, you'll get over it in due time. Time heals all wounds, he'll talk to you eventually. It's only a matter of time before you won't even think about him anymore. And yet when I least expected it, I realized...that chapter of my autobiography is finished. Closed. Done. The door is closed on that experience, and is finally ready to open for a new one.

And it didn't happen in due time, or in a matter of time.

It, along with everything every nano-second of the day...happened in the fullness of time.

I really like the sound of that. And since my life can be full of time, I can be free.

What Do You Look Forward To?

2005-10-21T13:57:00.000-04:00

I have been assessing my happiness lately. You know, trying to figure out what little things in my life make me happy. I thank God for my family, and friends, and waking up, and living one more day and all that. But I was trying to figure out what could make me happy on a day-to-day basis. Here are some things that can happen in a day that can make me happy:

I get to see someone I've got a crush on. (Am I too old for crushes yet??)

I get to buy something without the decision pending on whether or not I can pay the rent that month.

If there is a fresh-baked dessert in my kitchen.

If I have a job in my desired field.

If I'm getting my hair done, nails, facial, massage, anything-to-pamper-myself done.

I'm wearing a new scent.

If I have new clothes to wear.

If I get to see my friends that I don't see everyday.

If someone is visiting me from out of town.

If I'm dating someone, and we are going out that night...(one thing could lead to another...)

If I get a chance to work on a knitting/crocheting project.

If I get to read some of a book I was reading.

If I can call home with good news.

The list goes on...what are some of your daily pleasures?

Untitled

2005-10-20T02:17:00.000-04:00

I couldn't think of anything clever to name this entry. So here is basically what it is about.

I ran into my ex this past weekend. It was horrible.

This wasn't just an ex; this was the ex. The one whose name comes after just about every sentence I start with "my first". The one who introduced me to a type a man that, three years later, I still haven't seen or met again. The one who completely changed me - take that as you will.

So I was visiting my college for our Alumni weekend. I was high from seeing everyone that shaped my college experience - my girls, my fellas...just being back in that environment made me nostalgic and full of happy memories. I knew in my gut that I would see him, and I thought I was ready. I prepared myself. He's married now, and I'm over it.

I'm sitting with my two girlfriends at a table, drink in my hand. First one of the night. I look especially fierce this evening, I must say. He walks in. The minute he enters the room, my eyes go straight to the door. They lock with his. He acts like he doesn't see me. He makes his way over to my table, greets my two friends, and completely ignores me and heads for the restroom. My mouth, and my friends' mouths drop open. I'll admit, I look a little different, and I haven't seen him in about three years. But not that different, and why wouldn't he acknowledge someone else sitting at the table? I remember him to be a lot of things, but rude wasn't one of them. Anyway...

On his way back out, I grab his arm and ask him coyly, "You're not gonna speak to me?" He looks at me as if he has seen a ghost. Literally. I roll my eyes, and cover it up quickly with a smile. He makes small talk, all while watching the door. I crane my neck to make my eyes meet his and say slowly, "What are you looking at?". He makes some excuse about waiting for someone to come in and cracks a stupid (albeit typical) joke. I give him a courtesy laugh. After an awkward pause, I close the "conversation" and sit back down. We soon discover that there is a more happening club down the street. I silently sing the hallelujah chorus, and agree to club hop anywhere else but there.

Walk into the next club, which I don't remember how it was, because I was still in the cloud of what had just happened. And of course, in he walks, deliberately avoiding me by being everywhere that I was and always having to walk right past me no matter where I was.

Later that night, I tried to assess how I felt. I had no words. I didn't feel hurt or angry, although from the minute I saw him untill I got home, I was fighting tears. This is the best way to describe how I felt: I felt like since the last time I saw him, someone slashed me in the face with a blade, and when I saw him again, I looked the same, only with a huge scar on my face. Still haven't made sense of that metaphor, but I have no choice; it's how I felt. If there was a word that meant more over than over, that is how over this is between us. He couldn't even look me in the face. I wonder if I need closure, but I have it. He wanted it to end, so it ended.

Never mind the fact that he was my forbidden fruit. Before him, I was an innocent, wholesome girl, looking for love in all the wrong places, but never giving up hope. Now I'm just a woman, who can sometimes be a lady if I have to be, but I'm not looking for shit, cuz I know exactly where to find what I want when I want it. Now I'm just a girl with a big ass scar on her face.

Thank goodness scars heal...at least on the outside.

What Are You?

2005-10-12T01:54:00.000-04:00

So, I was working tonight at the bar and I had group of older guys sit down. They started talking, and of course, flirting. I was smiling and being witty (translation: shucking and jiving for tips) as usual, when one of them asked me what I was:

Him: What are you?
Me: Excuse me?
Him: You know, what's your background? Are you Brazilian?
Me: I'm Black.
Him: And what else?
Me: Just Black.
Him: You're not part Mexican or Spanish or anything?
Me: Nope, just Black.
Him: Wow, you look like you're mixed with something. You're so pretty.

This bothered me tremendously. No offense to anyone who is comprised of multiple ethnicities, but why do people think it is such a compliment to be multi-ethnic? And I'll go here too: why was the "pretty" comment followed by "I thought you were mixed"?

We have a problem here.

For as long as I can remember, people have asked me these types of questions. My friends in high school would actually tell me to tell people that I had "Indian in my family" so that guys would think I was exotic or something, which basically meant prettier than the other girls. Now I am sure that there was some race-mingling a ways back in my family, but I identify myself as a Black woman. Plain and simple. It saddens me, however, that being just plain old Black isn't as appealing as being "mixed". The guy in the aforementioned example was not Black, but Black men are just as guilty. How many songs have I heard with Black artists giving shout-outs to all the Black/Asian beauties, or the Black/Cuban chicks, or the light-skinned honey with light eyes. Have your preference, but geez, don't influence all the brothas!

As a people, we have always had color complex problems - if it ain't light, it ain't right. But I refuse, in 2005, to claim four different ethnicities just to make some guy think he has found the hidden treasure of all women.

Maybe that's it. The more ethnicities you have, the more unique you are.

Right.

I have actually gone through great pains to find out all about my heritage. And to be honest, there were a few nice and naughty slave owners that thought no one would notice if the newest slave baby came out a little light. That's it.

I am a Black woman. And I'm beautiful. But not because I'm Black, but because when my Black parents' genes came together and had a meeting on how I should look, they came up with some pretty good ideas.

It's that simple: there it is, in black and white.

What About Your Friends?

2005-10-03T14:06:00.000-04:00

TLC were a bunch of young girls themselves when this song came out.

My mind rushes back to high school, when in my opinion, things were a lot simpler. By the second year there, you had your group of girlfriends; your clique, if you will. You knew who your best friends were because they were the ones that you had to talk to on the phone every night before you went to bed, and you had to spend every weekend together whether it was their house or yours, and they were the first ones you called when your crush said hi to you for the first time. You arranged your class schedule so that if you couldn't have at least one class with them, you could all have lunch together.

And when things went wrong, it was because he said that she said that Monifa said that Jackie said that your friend was talking about you behind your back (gasp)! When there was trouble in the clique, the whole school knew about it, and people immediately start taking sides. Your classes with that friend are uncomfortable, and lunchtime is unbearable. But after about a week or so, that one friend that couldn't pick sides decides to mediate. You forgot what you were fighting about, and by the time the bus comes, all is well. You're already making plans for the weekend.

Then you become an adult.

You can only get together for an occasional after-work happy hour, and that rare weekend when you all have nothing else planned with the significant other or the family. Your friends are good for so much more than just good cafeteria gossip; they are there for you, and better know how to communicate....

So what do you do when there is trouble in the Grown-Up Clique?

You don't see your friends every day, so there are no funny stares across the lunchroom. You can only wonder what is happening in other lines of communication that don't include you, and that one friend that can't choose sides is tired of hearing both of them. You feel yourself slipping away from friends you thought you would have for life...what do you do?

How do you know if the friendship is worth the heartache? On one hand, a good friendship should have enough of a foundation to where you should be able to talk things through and get to the root of the problem. On the other hand, you are a grown-ass woman and have little time to be going back and forth and racking your brain over a friend that may have only been meant to be in your life for a reason or a season instead of a lifetime.

You have a million things to worry about; the bills gotta be paid whether you have friends or not.

So what about your friends? At a certain age, you should know who your real friends are, right? Should the question be 'what are you doing wrong' if you don't?

The saying goes that some people are meant to be in your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime...and it sucks when you don't know if your "friend's" reason has been processed or their season has come and gone.

A Recovering Yes Girl

2005-09-27T04:20:00.000-04:00

Hello...my name is DramaQueen...and I'm a Recovering Yes Girl.

Yes was my favorite word. It it always associated with positivity. Yes; affirmative. No; negative. What a crock of doody.

Hey DQ, can you meet me here? Can you do this for me? Can I talk to you about this? Do you have a minute, I just need you to...BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH.

And my answer was always some form of yes: sure; no problem; ok; yeah; of course...and so on and so forth. Before I knew it, I was giving people all of me, and saving none for myself. All my time, all my energy, everything. All because I was afraid to say no.

Now when I use the term afraid, I don't mean literally scared something bad would happen to me. I was scared that people wouldn't need me for anything. If I say no, that means that I can't be depended on. That I am not a reliable person. And, oh God forbid, what if no one likes me???

So I felt in order to be liked and respected, I had to always be available. Never mind that I needed some of that time for myself; I had to be there for everybody else. Never mind that I was tired and burnt out; I had to muster up some energy to do something for someone else.

Thank God I have recovered.

My head starts to hurt as I think of all the things I said yes to and didn't want to: agreeing to a job that I know no one else wanted to do because it was so tedious and inconvenient, letting him proceed condomless "in the heat of the moment", countless long-term houseguests, too many five minute bar conversations that went on five minutes too long...the list is endless.

I read an article once by one of my favorite authors on this very subject. She too was a recovering yes woman. She said she took many steps to recover, and part of it was asking herself a few questions before saying yes:

What am I being asked to do?
Who is making the request?
Who will benefit from this activity?
What do I want to do?
What will happen if I say no?
What will happen if I say yes?

I can tell you which was, and sometimes still is the hardest one for me: What do I want to do? The answer is often so clouded by people-pleasing influences; old habits are hard to break. I guess learning to say no is truly a process. I am recovering, but I slide from time to time. But I think one cannot truly be happy unless they do what they want to do, not what other people want them to.

Now I can better understand why it is so hard for teenagers to Just Say No - although for me, it seemed to be a whole lot easier then than it is now.

When I am gone, what will they say?

2005-09-20T03:21:00.000-04:00

Those are lyrics to a song that I sang at my great-grandmother's funeral. I also sang it at my friend and sorority sister's wake. Here is the complete chorus:

When I am gone, what will they say, when I am gone
Will I leave behind a witness that will carry on
Will all the works and deeds that I have done quickly fade into the past
Lord, let your fire burn steadfast
When I am gone

I was thinking about this the other day; how will people react when I am gone? Or rather, what people think of me? Will they remember how big my heart was, or will they remember how overly sensitive I was? Will they wonder why I died single, or wonder just how significant my other was?

I don't know why, but I think of this often. I am no stranger to death - I have had someone close to me (not including family) die every other year of my life, starting when I was only four years old and my little best friend died of complications from sickle cell, to my junior year in college when I had finally decided to give this brotha some play only to see his face all over the news because the Cincinnati police had choked him to death.

Every other year like clockwork. I almost came to expect death, unlike most people who secretly think that they and their surrounding association are immortal.

I remember thinking the most random things about them. How my great-grandmother was always so happy to see me, but never even knew my name when I visited her in the nursing home.

Or how when I was in high school, the one girl who hated me the most had finally decided that it was more worth it to be my friend. She loved to play in my hair, and one day she put a beautiful French braid in it. I was still wearing that braid later that night when I saw on the news that she had been caught in a crossfire and shot to death. I didn't take that braid out for days. I never remembered her for how smart she was, only how she never really had a reason to hate me in the first place.

What I remember most about my friend Tim is how we were Pictionary champions for an entire summer - 20 to 0; we were undefeated. I would draw a stick figure with a fist in the air, and he would yell out "Nelson Mandela!" and we would win the game.

I don't remember the great things that people did. So will people remember random, quirky things about me? Will my one drama professor remember how much we used to butt heads? Will my ex remember how much I cried when he dumped me?

You can do al the great things in the world, but I have resolved to believe that the one thing you wil be remembered for, in every situation, is being you. Whatever you were at that moment in time in your life, THAT is what you'll remembered for. At least that's what I think.

When I am gone, what will they say...

Shopping for God

2005-09-19T13:21:00.000-04:00

Since I've moved, I have been shopping for a new church home. I haven't had one since I moved from Atlanta, so since then, I've been popping in here and there to holla at God in His house. I've gone to a few churches, and have always found a reason not to go back, wether it was too boring, too far, the service was too long, etc.

The last one I visited was close to home, and the service had to have been on a silent timer, it was so short...but long enough to get the message, you know? The music was ok, and there were projector screens for those in the balcony that couldn't see the stage, complete with descriptions at the bottom of the screen of exactly what part of the program they were at.

All of this was well and good until we got closer to the end of the service. The sermon was on preparing yourself to receive help from the Lord. He then asked if anyone in the congregation would like to open themselves up to "receive their help". I was moved by the message in the afore mentioned sermon, and this sounded like a routine altar call for prayer, so I decided to go down; prayer is powerful in numbers, you know. I went down front, and the congregation started applauding. A woman took me by the arm, and gently led me to a room in the back of the church. I was a little puzzled, but then figured that maybe they like to pray with the person individually with more privacy. So I willingly followed her.

We went into a little room, where other people were being prayed in various spots in the room. The lady sat down across from me and asked what I would like to pray about. I gave her a vague description of some things I was going through, and she began to pray over me. After the prayer was over, she grabbed a clipboard with about four forms on it and a pen and handed it to me. She started talking about New Member classes and things like that. I stopped her in mid-sentence:

Me: I'm sorry, I think there has been a little misunderstanding. This is my first time visiting this church, I'm not ready to join.
Her: Did you not know why you were coming down to the altar?
Me: well, I thought I was just coming down for prayer...
Her: okaaayyy...well, I appreciate your honesty. However, in the future, just know that we usually do individua prayer requests at the end of the service so as not to hold everyone else up.
Me: Ok...I'm really sorry...I just wanted prayer, and it was unclear to me that this was a cal for membership...
Her: yeah...it's alright...when you go back into the sanctuary, be sure to go along the side wall instead of back through the aisle.

As I walking back to my seat, I felt so...I don't know, irritated, confused, and a little put off. She wasn't outwardly rude, but she was curt. And to me, people shouldn't be acting like that in church! So I made a mistake, what was the big deal? I should have paid closer attention to the fact that only two other people went down for prayer. Then, at the end of the service, the pastor was informing the congregation about one of the members passing away. He said that the church would be "funeralizing" him on the following Wednesday. Funeralizing???? I have never heard of it put that way before, and it just did not sound right to me.

So that was my church experience. I may or not give it a second chance, I haven't decided yet. I'm not even sure of what I'm looking for in a church home. I'll just have to have faith that I will be led to the right place of worship.

This is one time that I don't mind paying full price for good quality. Time to max out my spiritual credit cards! Praise God!

It's Meme Time!

2005-09-14T02:34:00.000-04:00

Ok, so this meme got passed on to me by my best friend, and she knows I love these.

By the way, how do you pronounce 'meme'?

Anyway, here it is:

Ten years ago: It was 1995; probably the best year of my high school life. I had my first boyfriend, and he treated me like a queen. We didn't go out much, cuz he was always grounded! That was also the year my mother finally allowed me to wear acrylic tips on my nails, and I got them airbrushed! I was in three shows, and leads in all of them. However, my self-esteem was at it's lowest, so it is only now that I am able to see what a great time I had.

Five years ago: It was 2000 and I was in my sophomore year in college. I had my first apartment that year, and I loved it. My circle of friends had been established. I wrote my first one-woman show this year and performed it in a small classroom. It was packed!

One year ago: I had just started doing voice-overs, and was bartending. Next month, a year ago, I was on All My Children.

Five snacks:
-Golden Oreos (they are addictive)
-tortilla chips and salsa (I keep some in my house at all times; you never know when you'll have company!)
-brownies (Don't even have to be homemade)
-Reese Cup's FASTBREAK candy bars (ditto, Kell, these are the BEST)
-cookie dough (slightly melted in the microwave - mmmmm...)

Five songs I know all the words to:
- "Ice, Ice Baby" by Vanilla Ice
- "Bonita Applebum" by Tribe Called Quest
- "A Long Walk" by Jill Scott
- "Tell Me" by Groove Theory
- just about every television theme song between the 80's and the early 90's

Five things I would do with $100 million:
- pay off all of my debt - HALLELUJAH!!!
- give money to my family and some of my friends.
- travel and take a real vacation
- buy a brownstone and trick it out.
- buy a lot of gadgets, music, books, clothes, and shoes.

Five places to run away to:
-My bedroom
- my house in ATL
- my Grandma's farm
- a terrace overlooking something nice (just not water)
- Cincinnati (that is where all my friends are, and it was my home for 4 years)

Five things I would never wear:
-biking shorts
-anything yellow
-a bikini
-rollers in public (pet peeve)
-a fur coat

Five favorite TV Shows:
-A Different World
-Living Single
-Big Brother 6
-The Cosby Show
-Thirty-minute meals with Rachel Ray

Five biggest joys:
-feedback on my blog!
-cooking while listening to my music on blast
-a great love story
-being pampered
-SEX (last but certainly not least)

Five favorite toys:
-my blender (for cooking, folks)
-my iPod
-my laptop
-my DVR box
-my ((ahem)) toys that are NOT for cooking. ;o)

Five people to pass this on to:
Fuego
Max
B-Nice
Ex-Factor
JMama

Ok, you've been tagged people! Let's get to it!

Link This

2005-09-13T03:31:00.000-04:00

Ok, ths is a stupid blog, but I don't care. I finally learned how to link other people's blog on my blog page! It took me weeks to do this, and finally someone explained it so that I had pictures to look at in instructions I can follow (good looking, Max!) yay!

Sorry, that's it. I'm hella tired, and no one interesting came into my bar tonight. :o(

Feel free to drop some topics on me - I have a slight case of writer's block.

I always reserve the right to completely ignore your suggestion, but send them anyway! What's on your mind that I could possibly (and humbly) shed some light on for you??

Holla.

My White in Shining Armor (SE2)

2005-09-09T03:05:00.000-04:00

So I was at work the other night (I'm a bartender) and this guy came in by himself. As you know, it is not unusual for a guy to come into a bar by himself. But this guy had dinner and everything. Something was up.

Being the great bartender that I am, I started to make conversation with him. He was a nice enough guy: about late thirties-early forties, still had all of his hair, moderately dressed, carrying a bookbag (it just looked weird for someone his age to be toting a bookbag) and he was white. He was just an average guy, no attraction from my side. Just painting a picture.

So, he started telling me about his job (he was a jeweler, like, a real one) and showed me some his stuff (hence the bookbag). Eventually, he began talking about this chick he was dating and this chick he was still in love with. In case you didn't know, I am a self-proclaimed Relationship Specialist (for anyone except myself) and offered my humble advice. He was eating it up; we talked for a couple of hours. For every half hour, there were at least three glasses of wine consumed by this guy. Keep that in mind. Needless to say, the conversation took a drastic turn, and before I could pour his seventh glass of wine, he started hitting on me. But it wasn't the usual hitting on me. It kind of went something like this:

Him: You know, there is something about you...
Me: Mmmm-hmmmm...
Him: No really...you are a special person...
Me: Thank you.
Him: You have a way about you.
Me: Okayyyy...
Him: You are very sexy...do you know what it is about you that is so sexy?
Me: Do you want a list or something?
Him: (ignoring my sarcasm with a pensive look on his face) I can't put my finger on it, but I am so attracted to you...I just feel that...that...you are an amazing person.
Me: Um, thanks.
Him: Do you want to go out with me on Sunday?
Me: Not especially...I don't think that is a good idea.
Him: I know I don't know you, but I just think that any man would be lucky to spend time with you.
Me: **speechless**

Now, I left out some things, but that was pretty much how the conversation went. I ommittted the drunken redundancy, but I still felt...flattered. Even though I knew this man was drunk, I still entertained his come-ons. I have never been hit on like that. Yes, I was sexy to him (God, please don't let that comment have come from him wearing drunk goggles!) but he also told me that I was special and amazing. He told me, after I rejected him (repeatedly) that any man would be lucky to spend time with me. Wow. I should have been disgusted and put-off, but I have to say, I was actually flattered.

Did I miss something? Whatever happened to the usual "you look good" and "ooh, you have the sexiest lips" and shit like that? This guy was repeatedly telling me things that I always longed to hear from a man, and it actually was not making me uncomfortable. Now, I can count on one hand how many times I have been approached by a man of the Caucasian Persuasion, so that could have been the difference; I really don't know.

Am I a fool for being so easily wooed or have I finally, finally learned how to take a compliment?

During the whole conversation, for the first time in a long time, I didn't doubt the validity of what he was saying about me. I never wondered what his true motives where, or whether or not he was lying to me when he was saying all of those wonderful things.

All I know is, the next time he comes into my bar, Dirtbag or not, his first drink is on me.

Matchmaker - SEI 102

2005-09-08T03:33:00.000-04:00

I went to church this past Sunday and got wind that the Reverend of the church was young, handsome, and single. Immediately my mind went, which one of my friends could I tell about him? Who needs a nice preacher man?

I was at an audition this week, and ran into this guy that I see all the time at my auditions. He is adorable, with a great, charismatic personality. He ended up leaving before I did, and I sat there thinking how nice he was and how great he must be with his girlfriend. Then I thought, maybe he doesn't have a girlfriend - my friend So and So would probably hit it off with him wonderfully.

Why is it that everytime I meet a great man, I alwyas want to hook him up with my friends?

A friend and mentor of mine brought this up to me one day, and it really made me think. I never really think of myself as an option unless he overtly hits on me. Why??? I love my friends and want nothing for them but happiness, but why not look out for my own first?

**turning on analytical mind**

Maybe deep down, I, for some odd reason, don't think I am worthy of anything less than a complete dirtbag who doesn't respect me. But I am confident, and I think I'm fly, remember?

Just not fly enough for an equally fly man. Hmph. And I thought I was making progress.

I know the rules of Life, or one of them anyway: once you become aware of the problem, you are from that point forward held accountable for it. That is why I called this entry Matchmaker - Self Image Issues 102 (the last entry was the Intro class). The next time I see a fly man with great qualities, even if I don't actually do anything, I will not, I repeat, WILL NOT rule myself out as a possibility.

I mean, I don't have to worry about some chick taking my man; I'm giving them away by the dozens!

Not anymore. Today is the day that I proclaim that the phrase "out of my league" is out of my league...you feel me?

Class dismissed.

Not Worth The Weight

2005-09-02T04:37:00.000-04:00

I just recently moved, and of course as I was packing up all of my things, I came across some of my old journals from my teenage years. I took a break from packing and sat down to read a few passages. Some of them were hilarious; I couldn't hold in a chuckle reading about how my life was over because Billy NoGood didn't look at me in the lunchroom that day. And I could write for pages on how he looked in one class alone!

As I continued to read, however, I got very sad. I noticed how every time someone didn't like me, that I immediately started to blame myself. I would read pages on how I should start wearing make-up so So and So would notice me. I really hated the stuff, but that was probably what he wanted from a girl - he clearly didn't want me the way I was. I read about how I would start a new diet and start counting calories, because I was getting way too fat (mind you, I was about fourteen years old at the time this particular journal was written, and about twenty pounds lighter than I am now) and I would go into detail about how my thighs were so jiggly and my butt too big and my stomach stuck out and my hair was never right and my face was so ugly and so on and so forth. There were pages dedicated to helping me stick to my "diet" (which was basically just eat salad all the time) and they read something like this:

Look at your hips! Look at your thighs! Do you want guys to like you? Guys don't like fat girls! You must stay on your diet! Don't you want to look good in your clothes? Then you have to stay on your diet! No exceptions Fatty!

Every page after that read similar to this passage. I would write about the day, and then write myself another reminder of horrible I was and why no one wanted me. As I turned each page, I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and threatening to fall. I desperately needed to finish packing, but I needed to take a moment and mourn the death of my fourteen year old self. At fourteen, I was smart, and beautiful and talented. Yet none of these things ever made it to my journal. Because I had no clue; I had no self-worth. I hated taking pictures, I hated wearing clothes that weren't baggy and too big. My mother would tell me things like, Honey, God gave you those legs, now show them! I thought I was nothing, and treated myself that way. I sat on my bed, losing the struggle to a voracious flow of tears. I couldn't believe my self-esteem had ever been that low. Why in the world should a fourteen year old girl be counting calories?? I should have been eating pizza with my friends and worrying about the consequences later, years later.

After my crying had subsided a bit, I threw the journals in the nearest box. I was able to breathe a sigh of relief. At least I didn't carry it into my adult years. I can honestly say that although I am not completely happy with my body, I'm content enough not to obsess over it the way I did then. For a minute, I thought, well, every girl must go through that and when they become an adult, they realize how important confidence is in your everyday life.

The shocking truth - not everyone realizes this as an adult.

I see adults treating themselves the same way I did when I was a girl, but it is worse, because it's coming from an adult. I was reading a friend of a friend's blog the other day, and she was worried that after losing weight, she wouldn't look good in a dress she had recently bought herself. She did have the courage to post a picture, and she looked fabulous. Not because she was a size 2, but because in the picture, if there was any doubt in her mind that she didn't look good in that dress, I couldn't tell. She looked fierce! Her smile said, look at me, I'm beautiful and to hell with you if you don't agree! So when she shared in her blog about her inner struggle, I was shocked. I don't know her very well, but I always thought she was so confident and sure of herself. I never would have thought that she would ever think like that! She has a great job, a wonderful fiance who loves her more than anything, and now a svelte figure to boot. But it truly breaks my heart to know that women, years after the Teen years, are still struggling with their self-esteem.

I will admit, I am not perfect. I have my days when I'm feeling like I'm not in the best shape. But I will never, can NEVER go back to that fourteen year old girl who barely enjoyed her high school experience because her self-esteem was basically in Hell. I want to give my friend of a friend a great big virtual hug, and tell her go on with your bad self, Diva! And I want to encourage all women, especially the ones around me because I have no ugly friends ;o), to big up yourself today! Do it in your blog! Say it aloud! Compliment yourself! Post a picture of you in your flyest dress so that other people can big up you too, because they will recognize the flyness. You deserve it! Do not look back on this time in your life and wonder why you did not think you were fly back then, because you were!

Thank you, TD, for sharing your story and for your inspiration. You are fly to me.

By the way, I really am fly.

If you've never seen me, you can imagine that I'm fly, cuz I am.

Can You Feel It?

2005-09-02T04:17:00.000-04:00

First of all, before I get deep, moving is a bitch. Just had to say that. I hope I don't have to do it again until I am rich enough to have people do it all for me; the packing and everything. I am trying to just show up at the house, you know what I'm saying?

Back to the topic at hand. I had a friend text message me today. She told me that she had been getting a weird vibe concerning me and felt that all was not right with me. I immediately thought of all the things going wrong in my life at the present time, and was wowed by her intuition. This a pretty good friend of mine, but by no means are we really close. I mean, I haven't heard from her in about six months, and then she comes with this!

I think I was momentarily blinded by what I like to call Horoscope Syndrome. Whether you believe in that stuff or not, tell me you have never read your horoscope and found a way to make it come true for you. What is that about? If it says that today you will make a big decision concerning your finances, you immediately start thinking...well, I was going to get a hot dog for lunch, but said forget that, I'm having steak and salad! You get me???

Why, when I received that message, didn't I think, well, actually, I have clothes on my back, food in my fridge, and a rof over my head, so hey, I am alright. Sure, I have some things weighing heavy on my mind, but seriously...when have I not?? If my mind were my body, it would be extremely tired and achy by now, probably swollen in most places from over-exertion.

Then my mind began to wander (surprise, surprise) to how I feel about people and how they feel about me. I often make myself believe that the people that are in my life are there because there was something about their spirit that attracted me to them. I believe I can feel people's spirit, which explains why sometimes, no matter how "nice" you are, I still ain't feelin' you. No explanation needed. Do people feel that way about me? Was this friend of mine so intuned with our estranged relationship that she still, from time to time, feels my spirit and when I need to be reached out to? My mother is a pro at it, but of course, she has had years of practice.

Are there people in your life with a presence so strong that you can just feel them?

I can honestly say that all of the people in my life that I am close to (not neccessarily close to me) have something about their spirit that I can speak on if I have to, it is that apparent. After this text message, I wonder if this was true for me to, or was this a classic case of running down the phone numbers in your cell phone and coming across someone you just ain't heard from in a grip. Or worse, that I am just the worse victim of Horoscope Syndrome (even when my horoscope says it is time for Spring Cleaning, I convince myself that something has been telling me to clean my dirty room...) and have once again allowed my feelings and intuition to spiral out of control.

Some people use this logic to explain why they fall in love in three days or have a best friend after five hours of you do what? Me too, girl!!!

At this stage in my life, I want my feelings and intuition to start sharpening and start to filter out some of the bullshit people in my life.

They say people can come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.

Now how do you feel about that?

I feel like scrolling through my phonebook and seeing how everybody is doing.

I Should Have Worn Fishnets...

2005-09-01T05:07:00.000-04:00

Ok, so I haven't blogged in a while. To those of you who actually read my blog, I am sorry!
I got a major run in my pantyhose of life. Lucky for me, a run in your pantyhose ain't the end of the world. Hair spray doesn't work, clear nail polish doesn't work, and my run is starting to look more like a highway.

But it's ok. Pretty soon, I'll be able to buy a new pair - nylon ones. More durable. You get me?

I really like to write in metaphors, in case you haven't noticed. ;o)

Seriously, when you hit a snag in life, you may try all kinds of quick fix-ups to cover the snag for the moment. But until you can make a major, valuable change, you won't improve the quality of your life. I learned that the hard way.

Correction - I'm learning that the hard way.

Because when you fix a run in pantyhose, you're not really fixing it, you're just stopping it from "running" some more. So how do you fix the run that is already there?

Turn your pantyhose around, walk forward, and don't worry about what people behind you are saying. Now that is good advice!

**Please say a quick prayer for the people in New Orleans. I can complain on my blog all I want, but it could always be worse.

I've got some great things to discuss, and I've had plenty of time to present them cleverly, so stay tuned...

Mahogany's Theme

2005-08-24T03:26:00.000-04:00

Do you know where you're going to?

I thought I did.

Ever since I could speak, I was performing. I loved to be the center of attention, but not by acting out or throwing temper tantrums. I loved to make people laugh and to see people applaud for me after I have single-handedly entertained them. My life plan was made. I got accepted into a prestigious performing arts elementary school, got accepted into a prestigious performing arts college/training conservatory, and as soon as I graduated, I was off to New York to make it big.

Everything was going according to plan. I had mastered the art of being the best at whatever I did. I got all the leads I wanted in high school, and stayed ahead of the game in college. I even managed to go above and beyond a few times. Everyone knew I was on my way to stardom. Within minutes of meeting me, people would say, "you must be an actress or something."

or something was more like it.

There was a time when I knew that there was nothing else in this world that I wanted to do. I knew it would be hard to do, but since that was my only option, that made it easier. Now, as an adult hustling every day to pay bills and still not a household name, I can think of a million other things that I could be doing. I could teach, I could write, I could consult, I could coach, I could go back to school, I could...do a lot of things. I am intelligent and I have a lot of skills.

Confused after all these years of only wanting one thing? Could it be that as an adult, I have finally faced the reality of having to get a real job in order to survive? Or could it be my fear that I'll be a 40 year-old starving artist? One can only "starve" for so long without dying a slow and hungry death...

Something's gotta give, I mutter to myself on my way to another unfulfilling job. I didn't go to school for this, I did not spend my entire early life preparing for this...

They say that once you have a job that you love, you'l never have to work day in your life.

Patience is a virtue. My patience is wearing thin. Hard work pays off. Well, I'm tired. If at first you don't succeed, try and try again...so when do you say enough is enough?

I could do a lot of things...I could teach, I could write, I could "keep at it" and possibly bartend for the rest of my life...

or I could accept the fate of Mahogany's theme that haunts me every single day:

Do you know where you're going to?

YES...no...I don't know. Does that answer your question?

The Name Game

2005-08-18T13:20:00.000-04:00

Men dominate hip-hop; this is no surprise. I always find it interesting, however, how women are represented in some of today's hip-hop hits. The names says it all. It says a lot about how men in the hip-hop industry look at us in correlation to real life.

Now it is also no surprise that artists have made it a habit to degrade women in their songs, with such lovely pet names as bitch and ho. ( My mind automatically goes to that Ludacris song, "Pimping All Over The World" where he says "sing it, Hoes" and they keep crooning) And they all have their own little meanings: My Bitch = she'll do whatever I want her to. My Ho = she'll do whatever I want her to do sexually. My Trick = she'll do whatever I want her to do sexually, and bring me the money when she is done.

But they have gone a step further from degradation, and are now downright condescending. For instance, if in the lyrics the artist is speaking of a woman representative of some type of love interest, he refers to her as shorty, baby girl, or something equally as bad. I will bet any amount of money that the first guy to refer to a girl as shorty was looking down at her at that very moment. Anything to reaffirm that he is physically (and perhaps mentally) bigger than her. Even the word pussy; a slang term for our genital area, but also a condescending slang name, (very prominent in hip-hop music, I might add) for a punk who can't handle business or step up to the plate.

Or they will go to the oppostite side of the spectrum and call us Ma or Mami. If he is not looking for his own Mama, I guess any "mami" will do, huh? Very few refer to us their girl or lady anymore. Too much like right I guess. What makes you think I want to be a grown man's Mama?!?! I mean, seriously, you don't hear women out there referring to their men as their "sons", now do you?

In the age of the Almighty Independent Black Woman, it is a little hard to believe that even in a neo-culture such as hip-hop, we are still being forced to be "kept in our place". Hip-hop is no longer just music; it's a way of life. So the leading by example that is being portrayed is kind of scary. Is this men are going to see us so long as hip-hop is at the fore-front of American culture.

I remember back when we actually had names in songs...Roxanne...Iesha...Kisha, Angela, Pamela, Renee...all a guy wanted was a girl...an around the way girl, a candy girl, a Liberian girl...just a girl.

Man, I remember that.

True Romance

2005-08-16T13:43:00.000-04:00

I was reading someone else's blog on this topic, and realized that I not only wanted to respond to her, but to everyone who responded to her blog entry.

Romance is a funny thing.

romance - 2 : something (as an extravagant story or account) that lacks basis in fact
3 : an emotional attraction or aura belonging to an especially heroic era, adventure, or activity

What compelled me to write on this subject were how the responses varied. Some women love romance; some could take it or leave it. I would like to challenge this theory; I think all women love, and can appreciate romance. If I'm wrong, I'm wrong, but hear me out before jumping up to defend your unromantic virtue.

Webster had quite a few definitions for the word romance. I chose the two that were most appropriate to what most people view romance as. Number 2 has a negative connotation; Number 1 a positive one.

Every woman can appreciate romance; this is why the majority of us can watch a romantic comedy, or a romantic movie, or even romantic ventures of other people. For example, even if you supposedly don't care for romance, if someone you know tells you a romantic story, you can't help but to appreciate it. But some women see this as a fantasy - it couldn't possibly be a reality for them. Deep down, they feel like they are not worthy of romance. They think of definition #2 - that this notion is exaggerated and not based on fact.

Now another kind of woman knows that she too is worthy of movie-like, fantastical romance. She is secure enough in herself to feel capable of "an emotional attraction" that belongs to a special activity. Not only can you experience it, but girls, you deserve it! It's not like it's hard work. Hell, it's not even expensive. A few words here, a note there, a few flowers, a great and phenomenal night every once in a while...

Why is it that every woman involved in a long-term relationship is mourning the death of Romance? Why is it that women who have conquered one of the ultimate obstacles in life (finding a man that is willing to stick around and be loyal) have to do so with the notion that romance is now uneccessary, or even worse, an exaggerated form of expression?

The two definitions I found for romance are almost completely opposite! Does this mean that they cancel each other out? Is there no middle ground, no gray area, no in-the-middle of unrealistic extravagance and activity involving emotional attraction and adventure?

You're damn right there ain't no middle ground. Relationships cannot survive on middle ground; marriage cannot survive in a gray area. If he stops trying to romance (the latter definition) you, then he will stop trying in other areas as well. And if he does give you romance, appreciate it and allow yourself to give in emotionally. Don't think of it as an exaggeration of his love; it's real, and you deserve at least that much, if he loves you. Don't fool yourself into thinking you can take it or leave it, because you'll be leaving it for the rest of your life.

And that's the truth; no romance (the former definition).

Comfort Food

2005-08-15T12:55:00.000-04:00

I have recently discovered that more than anything in this world, nothing can make me feel more comforted than...food. I eat when I'm upset, bored, happy, sad, sick, etc. Food is so versatile.

When I'm pissed, I eat something sweet to neutralize my anger. The taste of sugar makes me smile automatically. Something quick and sweet normally does the trick.

When I'm bored, I'll eat something fun that takes a little bit of concentration, like Oreos with milk (you dunk them too long they will be too soggy, but if you don't dunk them long enough, it doesn't taste right and is just messy), or something that makes you anticipate, like a Blow-Pop or an ice cream cone (two treats in one - brilliant), or food that forces you to multi-task, like Lucky Charms (do you always want marshmallows and horseshoes in one spoonful?) or Alpha-Bits (I always only end up spelling like three words per bowl). Boredom can also bring on food challenges, can I endure the heat of a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos? or can I wrap my mind around the complexity of an odd combo, like tuna salad with Tostitos.

When I'm happy, I'll eat something that feels good in my mouth and is tasy (translation: SWEET). The physical formation of my mouth eases into a smile when custard-style yogurt folds onto my tongue. Or the excitement of pushing my tongue through creamy ice cream to identify, taste and swallow whatever was hiding throughout the ice cream. The burst of the sweet and tangy from plums and raspberries is good too, in case I want to attempt to be healthy (which is rare). Dove or Lindt chocholate is always silky smooth, like each bite is kissing me back, and the crackling rice covered in chocholate of Nestle Crunch always makes me excited.

When I'm sad, I will eat as much and as horribly as I possibly can. It's like I wrap myself in a blanket of cake icing and cry into a bowl full of raw cookie dough, each chocolate chip representing a tear. Then I take a large wooden spoon, cover it with peanut butter, and dunk out my frustrations into a pound bag of plain M&M's.

And when I am not feeling well, the grainy texture of moistened and swallowed saltine crackers followed by the jetstream of club soda always eases and relaxes my tight and upset stomach.

For some odd reason, when I eat green, crispy sour apples, it makes me feel like my teeth are clean. Go figure.

I know people say it is bad to turn to food for comfort, but I will say this. Food has the ability to make you feel warm, full, calm, and good all over, whatever your vice. It will hardly ever disappoint you, especially if you know exactly what it is you want. There always seems to be a way, with food, that you can have your cake and eat it too.

Kind of brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "comfort food", doesn't it?

The Reality of a Cancer

2005-08-12T10:16:00.000-04:00

I was talking to a friend of mine whose zodiac sign is Cancer, just like mine. I asked her what qualities she thought were true about herself that zodiac experts say are typical of Cancers. She said everything that everyone says about Cancers: emotional, sensitive, moody, caring, nurturing, etc. I thought, ok, I'm not all that moody (I have to be provoked), but the rest got a nod of agreement. Then she said something that piqued my interest:

"Cancers have a way of creating their own reality sometimes."

Hmmmm....my mind immediately raced around searching for instances where I just made up my own reality. And there were so many to choose from. My reality changes from moment to moment.

When I am in my house alone, I pretend that I am completely someone else. It is amazing what you can make yourself into when no one is there to judge you. Sometimes, I am a strong woman, who could care less about whether or not a man is in her life...I can just sit there and wait to reap the benefits of life when you live it courageously....

And I use test subjects to try out new ideas and theories that I want to have. I have recently been working in an environment where the people don't know me very well. I have decided that, realistically, I can be a little less honeysuckles and sunflowers in my demeanor and psyche - especially in the way that I feel about men.

I decided that, for me, marriage is overrated. I have been so disheartened as every hope and dream I have ever had for the male species is consistently dashed and shot down. So when the subject of men and relationships came up, I said to myself, it is all or nothing. So I started spouting off about how I didn't care for relationships, all I wanted was a companion to hang out with and more than occasionally have sex with, and I don't really want to get married because marriage today isn't what is used to be, blah blah blah.

Then came the questions and comment portion of the program. Why do feel that way? Is it because you're in New York? You know, the dating scene in New York is basically non-existent. You just have to wait, the right man will come. He will show up when you are not even looking - if he knows you are looking, you'll scare him away.

And that is what took the cake for me. Maybe it's just me, but I am confused. Why do people spend so much time trying to give me hope and boost my self-esteem to get that man of my dreams, only to follow it with "but don't look for him, cuz if he knows you are looking, you'll scare him off." Am I dating or deer-hunting?

So I have to be sure to add to the Manual instructions on how to Stop Looking...that is, when I find out how to do it myself. This is where my test theory comes in. If I convince myself that I don't want it, then I won't look for it. Sounds easy enough.

Of course the girls that I was conversing with both have had their boyfriends for like the past eight years, and are just a couple of his paychecks away from getting a ring...and that is great for them, and I mean that. Marriage is wonderful for people who have properly rehearsed how to cohabitate and communicate with another person like that. I haven't, and I am scared.

**a confession**

I am scared of all possible outcomes. I am scared that I won't ever meet anyone I want to marry. I am scared I will meet someone I want to marry, and eventually, he will disappoint me so much, that I will be emotionally scarred. I am scared that I will meet this wonderful man, and even with all of his great attributes, discover that I am still a little "too much" for him. And I don't want people to tell me that one day I will find that special someone, because some people have found that special someone that found someone more special than them a few years (or months...or weeks) later. And to be quite frank, I don't want to wait and see. Whimsy in the female Cancer is a common myth; I need absolutes. I wanna know now, no surprises, no gray, no just going about my day to day, and then, BOOM getting smacked in the head with Love, being captured by it, only to be released when the thrill of the chase is over, and it's time to conquer some new unsuspecting hopeless creature...

I digress.

I consider myself to be a brave and courageuous person. But that is a risk that truly scares me. I can dance like nobody is watching, but I don't think I'll ever have the ability to love like it's never gonna hurt.

I want my reality to be that I can live my life and just not give a fuck about what people think, how scared I am of what he might want, or how scared he is of what I might want. For just a moment, I want to put on the costume of the Don't Give a Fuck character, give a wonderfully believable performance, and stand there and receive as the audience applauds and gives me a standing ovation.

"And the Oscar for Best Actress in a Realistic World goes to....."

And the crowd goes wild.

Estrogen Sucks

2005-08-11T14:09:00.000-04:00

I am in so much pain right now.

I did not injure myself, I'm not ill, I'm not even on my Moon Cycle...(that is my nice way of saying that Aunt Flo has come and gone, thank God)...

I hate being a woman today. Today, I have experienced a fresh kind of hell.

I got my eyebrows threaded.

Why, oh why did society make it unacceptable for women to walk around with a full beard and mustache? Why does everything we do in order to stay beautiful hurt? We even hurt naturally!

Period = cramps
Pregnancy = unexplainable pain (or so I've heard)
Menopause = hot flashes and various aches.

This what was done to me today - A petite Indian lady wound up some thread, put it in her mouth to steady it and keep the string taut, and proceeded to rip out the hair by winding the thread around each hair. All of this was done faster than the speed of light.

This is what it felt like - She took a pair of rusty pliers and plucked the hair in my eyebrows from my actual hair follicle. I would be surprised if it ever grew back, because I swear it felt like she ripped the entire root out with a single piece of thread. After that, she took a cotton ball soaked in alcohol and swiped it across the tender, hair-free skin, then proceeded to set fire to the area with a blow torch.

And you would assume that the waxing of the upper lip would have been better, right? Wrong. She applied the wax on my upper lip with a wax roller, and smeared wax on my upper lip the way a child would smear glue on construction paper with a glue stick. While I was trying to determine whether or not I actually felt wax in my mouth, she, without warning, applied the muslin strip and ripped untill every hair was gone. All I could think of was my poor little mustache hairs clinging for dear life to this mass of icky goo and then ripped from it's foundation. My upper lip now looks like somebody punched me with brass knuckles.

I shared this story with a male co-worker of mine, and he said, "Yeah, I can see how that would be a little uncomfortable."

a little uncomfortable??

A maxi pad that is shifting in my underwear is a little uncomfortable.

a thong is a little uncomfortable.

Having something either ripped off of you, leaking from you, pushed out of you kicking and screaming, shoved inside of you repeatedly**, or having products crammed inside the pores of your skin at least three times a day is slightly more than a little uncomfortable.

**Clearly, I'm referring to tampons. There are some things about being a woman that ain't so bad. ;o)

The Object of my Affection

2005-08-08T11:55:00.000-04:00

Has anyone noticed the similarities between Black women and gay men?

Maybe it's just me, but it seems as if a lot of gay men (no matter their race or ethnicity) have a lot in common with Black women. Now I have always been a bit of a Fag Hag, but I am starting to notice a correlation.

Most Black women have at least one good, gay male friend. I realize that this all sounds stereotypical, but I am speaking from my personal experiences. I cannot tell you how many times I have looked over at my outrageously handsome and outrageously gay male friend, and wished to God that he was straight. And he has often said the same about me.

Here are the qualities I see in my gay male friend. He's almost perfect - he's everything you could possibly want in a guy. All of the sensitivity and empathy a man can possibly have, a great sense of style, and a touch (or more) of pure masculinity. He cares about what I think of everything, from my outfit to my career. It is nice how he is not threatened by my friendships with other men. That is my ideal mate...Without the gay part, of course.

Now here is what I see in gay men that I also see in Black women; a strong sense of self. A confidence unparalleled by any other walking this earth. A fuck you, I don't give a fuck what you think of me, this is who I am, who I will always be so deal with it attitude. When one is forced into an under-priveledged position, I believe one must adopt this attitude to survive.

See the similarities now?

I wonder what relationships are like for him; he seems to have the same problems I have most of the time. I wonder if he thinks I am as perfect for him as I think he would be for me...You know, if the whole gay thing weren't an issue.

I see myself walking down the street, hand in hand with my (gay) boyfriend...And for a moment I pretend he is mine...impeccably dressed and incredibly handsome...he is so sweet, so openly affectionate...so understanding of me and what I go through and who I am as a person, not just as a woman or his woman...then some cute guy walks by and we both turn to look; my reverie is broken, and I snap back into reality. I wonder what he is thinking as we walk...

That I would be perfect for him, if only I were a gay man? We promised each other two children if neither of us were attached by the age of 40...

I've decided, that's it. Just like Jennifer Anniston in that movie Object Of My Affection. We are perfect for each other.

Except for the fact that he doesn't possess the one quality I can count on every straight man in the world to have, if nothing else - the desire to want to jump my bones. Perhaps sex is overrated...

yeah, right.

*sigh*

Ghetto

2005-08-05T14:41:00.000-04:00

ghet·to (noun) 1 : a quarter of a city in which Jews were formerly required to live

2 : a quarter of a city in which members of a minority group live especially because of social, legal, or economic pressure

3 a : an isolated group b : a situation that resembles a ghetto especially in conferring inferior status or limiting opportunity

It makes me cringe to hear people use the term ghetto in 2005. Above is Mirriam-Webster's definition of the word. It's as if we have taken it upon ourselves to change the meaning. Here is DQ's definition based on how I have been hearing it used lately:

ghetto (adj.) 1: a term that is used to describe anything that is not "up to par"; something that is no longer functioning at it's full potential; something of lesser value than it's counterparts; a make-shift or homemade object of little to no value.

2: a term used to describe one's behavior and style, particularly someone that grew up in a particular neighborhood that is considered to be of inferior status or limiting opportunities.

Notice a difference? And strangely enough, I am not hearing this term misused so much out of the mouths of African-Americanss...

I was watching a tv show last night, and I heard it used so many times I was actually shocked. I am an avid fan of Big Brother 6, in case anyone is following along, and Ivette is always talking about her "ghetto slide" (a make-shift Slip N' Slide that she made out of garbage bags) and her "ghetto birdfeeder" (a birdfeeder made out of an old water bottle) and so on and so forth. When I was in college, there used to be a grocery store in walking distance of campus. It wasn't the nicest grocery store in the neighborhood, and students were constantly referring to it as the "ghetto" grocery store. Or if something doesn't work right anymore, it's "ghetto".

The people that are using this term in this manner have probably never even been to a real ghetto. And can you compare a raggedy little make-shift water slide made for your enjoyment to people using their resources to make the best out of what they have? Because that is how it goes down in the ghetto.

And oh how I wish that was all.

Ghetto is now used to describe a style; now someone has the ability to look "ghetto", and immediately is judged by it. And the worst is when it becomes a proclamation. Some little triumphant White girl who just so happens to be able to sing the hook of the lastest rap song is now deemed "ghetto". Or by wearing the right style of clothes, or watching an hour of BET gets some non-Black person their Honorary Negro Card.

Most people that actually live in the ghetto spend a good deal of time trying to get away from it. Away from that lifestyle that has been created out of neccessity, and is now being capitalized on by cross-over groupies who think they "know" cuz 50 Cent told them all about it in his one song...and the girls in his video are all light, bright, and damn near white anyway...I digress.

There are so many other words we can use for our purpose. Ivette could have made a bootleg slide. Or a janky birdfeeder.

One day I'm gonna be looking at someone's outfit and say "that looks so Hamptons". Or if I make something that works exceptionally well, I will say "Look, I made mine Martha's Vineyard "...whatcha think?

On second thought...nah, never mind. That would just be really ______ .

Note To Self...

2005-08-04T10:02:00.000-04:00

- never eat Mexican food before going to a dance rehearsal.

- never forget to put on deodorant.

- never stare at someone for too long on the subway.

- if you fart on the elevator, be the second person to smell it, then ignore it.

- never call a guy more than twice before he calls you back.

- always wear nice underwear.

- burps smell too.

- get a Master's degree.

- sing in the shower.

- add "me time" to my To-Do List.

- call my family more.

- shake those haters off.

- tell the people care about that you care about them.

- get back in touch with old friends.

- read The Boondocks.

- it could ALWAYS be worse.

- stop biting my fingernails.

- avoid the craving for cheeseburgers; a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.

- then again, I only live once; have that cheeseburger.

Temp-orary Insanity

2005-08-02T10:14:00.000-04:00

Do you know what it feels like to be temporary?

I am currently working at a job as a temp, and let me tell you, it sucks. This is the only place where they can expect me to know everything and treat me like a dummy at the same time. It is completely nervewracking. I'm working in a Corporate Textiles Detp. of a major apparel company. Now I am woman of many talents; fabric and clothing and stuff is not one of them. So half the time my "colleagues" are speaking textile gibberish to me, and they might as well be speaking French because I have no clue what they are talking about, and the other half of the time they are treating my like I have come here to learn how to read. ("This is a copy machine. Do you know how to use it?" **said in a kindergarten teacher-esque voice)

I am grateful to even have a job, don't get me wrong. But it's funny how life works out sometimes. I have a degree in Drama, which is the equivalent to a degree Cake Decorating. But nonetheless, I have a degree. So why am I stuck in this hopeless job?? I have an interview this Wednesday for a job I think I will like. Please keep your fingers crossed!

You know how I love lists, so here are a couple I thought were appropriate.

Times when it is good to be Temporary:

-when you get pissed at something, and then realize, hey, I'm leaving soon, F*** this!

-when you are sick

-when you are angry

-when you really mess something up at your job.

-when your desk is piled up with work and your last day is tommorrow...I repeat, F*** this!

-no one in the office cares if you forget their name.

Times it is not so good to be Temporary:

-when you are someone's girl/boyfriend (I guess this depends on how one looks at it...)

-when you do not get a full-time paycheck for doing full-time work.

-when you get used to something only to be uprooted as soon as you adjust.

-no sick or vacation days; you don't work, you don't get paid.

-when you are being used.

-when you go to work on your birthday and there is no cake or balloons, cuz no one knew it was your birthday. :o(

So now that we are schooled on the pros and cons of being temporary, I must say, I am spent. I have been temporary for much too long. But I have a feeling that I am being prepped for bigger and better things. While I understand that I am in training, I am still tired. Being temporary is exhausting work. I would love a resting period.

Consider me Temporarily Out of Service

The Great Escape

2005-08-01T11:42:00.000-04:00

To all you future male plotters of The Great Escape...

The Great Escape: n. also known as The Disappearing Act; generally carried out by T.A.N.'s**; an act that is conistently carried out by the aforementioned man; usually after a child has entered the picture, but not neccessarily; particularly when specific responsiblities arise that may inconvenience him in any way. This could be days, weeks, months, or years in effect.

The Great Escape is an unfortunate event. It never affects the escapee, but almost always hurts the people that immediately surround him.

I have decided to include a few excerpts for the upcoming book The Manual:

If you were smart enough to know what to do to make a baby, then you should be smart enough to know how to help take care of it. There actually is a such things as a paternal instinct, whether you choose to ignore it or not.

Just because it didn't come out of you, doesn't mean you don't have anything to do with it.

Questioning whether or not it is really yours will only buy you a little time, and piss the Mommy off. After the tests are back and your time up, guess what. Mommy's still pissed. But don't worry. She will most likely attack your wallet and not you. You can run, but your bank account cannot. The courts will see to that.

You may not think it matters to a child whether or not you are present in his or her life, but it does. Once a child is introduced to it's parents, even if it is just a picture, it never forgets. Even when you try to forget about them, they will never forget about you.

Even if your baby's momma is Oprah, do your part. It is the thought that counts.

A child is not a Playstation; you cannot only play with it when it is new, and then forget about it when the novelty wears off.

Know and understand that after the conception, you will never, ever have done as much work as Mommy has, so don't take that for granted.

To quote India.Arie..."nothing in this world exists without it's opposite; there has to be a sun and a moon; a man and a woman; and that's just the way it is." You don't see the sun and moon fighting about when to shine; they split the 24 hours equally. Something to think about...

**Triflin' Ass Negroes

A Nintendo Life

2005-07-29T09:49:00.000-04:00

Remember on Super Mario Bros. when Mario or Luigi would eat (or retrieve, the graphics weren't good back then, so I couldn't tell what he was doing with it) that glowing flower, and for like ten seconds. they would become invincible? Well, that is what happens to celebrities. They get a little bit of fame and they think they are fu*king invincible.

Only instead of it lasting for ten seconds, it lasts until no one knows who they are anymore.

I just read in the paper today that O.J. Simpson got fined for stealing cable. Really OJ? If my broke a$$ can afford cable, he should be able to. WTF?!?!?

Wesley Snipes got arrested for using a fake passport. Cuz I guess it was too much trouble for him to, between all of his movies, go and get one of his own. And if he was unable to get one for whatever reason, I'm sure it was because he was doing something he had no business doing. Why do stars think their actions are non-punishable?

Winona Ryder stealing...because it was a sickness. Is that a sickness that only filthy rich white people get? Cuz I have never seen a young black girl get arrested for stealing and try to say she couldn't help it; it was a sickness. Right.

And Christian Slater thinks it is ok to grope strangers in corner stores. Cuz ANY woman should feel priveleged to be violated by Christian Slater. I mean, he is famous, for God's sake.

And do celebrities spend all their money on drugs because they can, or is fame just too stressful? (This comment can be taken as sarcastic or true, both connotations apply)

I don't get it. Maybe you have nothing better to do when you are rich, or mo money mo problems as the saying goes. I don't know. But will someone please tell them that their ten seconds is up! If Mario's invincibility didn't have a time limit, the game would have been over in about twenty minutes.

You figure it out, because they sure haven't.

O.J. stealing cable...**shaking my head**

I've Been Hit

2005-07-27T10:21:00.000-04:00

....by the Book Tag! Thank you, fuego, for forcing me to think about the stuff I have read over the years! And others who will be named at the bottom of this entry, beware, cuz you are next!

Total # of books I own:
If I knew the number, would that mean that I didn't own enough? I have no idea. I have an overflowing bookshelf here, and a couple of boxes full back home. Not to mention the eighty that I lent out and never got back! Wait, that might balance out if you include the eighty I borrowed and never returned; I still have library books from college! *hanging my head in shame*

Last book I bought:
A cookbook from The Food Network. I'm obsessed with The Food Network.

Last book I read:
Some Soul To Keep by J. California Cooper. I love the way she can tell a story. She is proof that often times simplicity says it best.

Book I am currently reading:
Confessions of a Video Vixen by Karrine Steffans. I know, I know...now you know my hidden shame. I needed a juicy, gossipy, guilty-pleasure book for the summer, and this is hitting the spot. Plus, I always like to read the life stories of people. And she uses real names!

First memory of a book:
My first memory of a book was Dr. Seuss. I loved the rhyming. I used to memorize it when it was told to me, by page and everything, so I could go and tell someone that I could read (I was four) and I would read the whole book out loud; I even knew when to turn the pages! But that was the only book I could read, because I wasn't really reading. after I got busted, my sister started reading to me, but she would make me sit next to her. She would guide her finger underneath each word as she said it, and I watched. That's how I learned to read. Sorry, I digress...

Five books that mean a lot to me: This was a toughie.

Black Feminist Thought by Patricia Hill Collins - every Black woman in the world should own a copy of this book. I am biased; she was my professor in college. But she has most of it figured out, it is kind of amazing.

Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel - One of my all-time favorite love stories. and it has recipes in it that actually coincide with the story!

Sula by Toni Morrison - for some reason, I can relate to this story a lot; with the title character in particular. Can't explain unless you've read it.

Oh, The Places You'll Go! by Dr. Seuss - Someone gave me that book as a graduation present, and the story is still one I keep in my head as I travel through, especially with the path I have chosen.

The Bible - I don't read it as much as I should, but it has some great stories in it from a literary perspective. My favorite book is Song of Solomon; if you ever wondered how God felt about love and sex, you should check it out. It is very poetic.

Books I'm looking forward to being consumed:

The Babylon Sisters by Pearl Cleage - I've always been a big fan of her writing.

Memoirs of a Geisha - someone has convinced me to give it another chance; the first time I attempted to read it, I was so bored by page 25. If there is one thing I can give a second chance, it is a book.

Books that are underrated:

Waiting in Vain by Colin Channer - this man's writing style is better than Calgon at taking you away. And his storytelling abilities are fierce. He can make you love who you are supposed to hate, and hate who you are supposed to love.

Sula by Toni Morrison - I love this book. All of Toni Morrison's novels are so celebrated, but in my opinion, this the best one and it is highly underrated.

Books that are overrated:

He's Just Not That Into You - Ok, I am a lot easier on this book since I have actually read it, and it good for those of us that need blatant objectivity to tell us (or remind us) of things we already know. But the whole Oprah-esque craze of it all just ended up making women look stupid and men look like smart, sly foxes they are **wink**. Just my opinion.

Anything from Oprah's book club - to quote a good friend of mine 'I will not run and read a book just because Oprah says it's good - I am a reader, and was before her book club. I can choose my own literature!' Enough said.

Any poetry book written by a non-poet musician - this excludes Jill Scott, because she was a poet first. Ashanti, T-Boz and even Alicia: please, stick to singing. Actually, Ashanti, find a new hustle altogether.

Ok...Thank you Fuego, that was exhausting! ;o) So...jmama, Max, lala...tag, you're it! And I'll be checking your blogs to see if you have done it, so get to it!

The Manual: A Quick Reference Guide

2005-07-25T12:24:00.000-04:00

Most guys I know love to put stuff together. It makes them feel manly and useful, I guess. But instead of reading the entire manual to make sure everything is done correctly, most guys eyeball the Table of Contents for the Quick Reference Guide. So I thought it would be useful to put together a Quick Reference Guide to dealing with women.

When approaching any type of relationship with a female, think of her as a bank. When you deposit, you may withdraw. You must deposit at least the minimal amount; no ATM will just give you a dollar cuz that's all you put in. You try to just deposit $1, and we, like the atm, will give you nothing until at least $20 is in.

If you put into savings, not only will you always have it ,but it will that amount plus interest. If you're willing to be patient and wait, you will certainly reap the benefits.

You overdraw, and we will hit you hard with what you cost us plus an extra fee. After too many "bounces", we will close the account.

The more you invest, you more you get in return. But most of these investments are long term; at least the ones with the most to gain from are.

Be wary of the bank you choose; some are just out to take your money and run!

Hope that helps, fellas. Stay tuned for the publication of the Manual!

Forward March...Past My Inbox, Please

2005-07-22T12:00:00.000-04:00

I HATE FORWARDS.

I really do. I would say that out of the 500 I get a day, maybe two of them are worth reading. I hate when I get them from people I talk to everyday, because I feel like it's one of those things that should just come up in conversation. "Hey, I got the funniest e-mail the other day..." If it sounds interesting, I'll request that you forward it to me.

And I should limit people to one forward a day. Sometimes I get four forwards from the same person. I just want to ask them, really? Are you serious? You read all four of these and thought to yourself, man, she would really benefit from reading ALL of these...

And if I haven't talked to you (and when I say talk, I am including personal e-mails with real messages written by YOU) in a while, do not send me forwards. If I don't want my friends to send them that I talk to regularly, you definitely have not earned the right to send junk to my mailbox!! Can I get a hi, or how are you before you send me what somewhat else sent you, that someone else sent her, that someone else sent him? Sorry, but forwards do not count as keeping in touch. If I do not recognize the address of the originator; null and viod. You're still distant.

Here are some tips and things to remember for those of you that are victims of FF (Frequent Forwarding):

if you see more than one FW's in the subject line , delete it.

God will not hate you if you don't send a Seven Minute Prayer to 80 of your friends. Jesus, Mary and Joseph never used a computer to pray, so you don't have to either.

Chain letters through e-mail are a load of bull dookey. I got one that said it had been passed on since the 1800's - because, you know, everyone checked their e-mails in between duels and croquet matches. WTF?!?!?!

You will not die a horrible and untimely death for not forwarding an e-mail to 97 of your friends.

You will not be a spinster for the rest of your life for not forwarding an e-mail.

You will not get pricked by an HIV-infected needle from a movie theatre seat or by sticking your finger in a coin-return slot of a payphone.

They are not recalling your deodorant or hair products because they cause cancer. "Hey, instead of spreading this important news through CNN or some other news-worthy outlet, let's just send it to some random person and ask them to forward it!"

You will not receive a gift certificate to your favorite restaurant by simply forwarding e-mails about it. That's just common sense, people.

Bill Gates is not ever, ever, EVER going to give you any of his money for forwarding e-mails about Microsoft.

If you receive an e-mail with "This really works!" in the subect line; guess what. It doesn't.

Beware of e-mails with things like this in the title:
" I'm a Brownie"
"I'm Carrie Bradshaw"
"I'm a cat"
"My score was 56"
It's a dumb ass test that will tell you absolutely nothing about yourself. And to top it all off, if you don't send it 43 people within 2 minutes of reading it, you will have bad luck for the next 50 years.

And last but not least, if you are victimized by an FF, please do us all a favor, and let the cycle stop with you. I'm still alive, and if I had let those deleted chain letters decide my fate, I should be have been involved in some traumatic accident like being stomped to death by a goat, not have had sex for the last twenty-five years, and had God banish me to eternal damnation for not spreading his word (complete with a powerpoint presentation) to at least 98 of my internet buddies.

So the next time you feel the need to include my e-mail addresss on your all-inclusive trip to the Land of the Forward list, do me a favor: don't.

Now forward this blog to at least 1,256 of your friends.

When Thugs Cry

2005-07-19T11:45:00.000-04:00

"You said you want a thug, don't be scared now..."
-Young Buck

So I've heard that all the good girls want bad boys. Thugs get mad play - they always have a girl! I am a good girl. And I am ashamed to say that I am attracted to thugs.

Not just any thug, though. There are a certain kind that I find myself lusting after. There is a certain type of thug that, if you get the chance to look deep into his eyes, you can see just the tiniest spark of sensitivity. Add to that a I-had-nothing-to-do-in-prison-but-work-out-all-day-every-day body, and I'm gone. It drives me wild.

Why, you ask? Why are good girls attracted to bad boys? I'll break it down for you so that it can forever and consistently be broke. (Guess that movie!)

Most women have a natural sense of sensitivity and caring - however small this instinct is, I do believe we all have it. In the same manner a man feels that every woman that makes him hard is a conquest, some women feel that a thug is the Ultimate Challenge. When women see a thug showing any signs of sensitivity, she instantly goes into conquest mode. She will see him and think to herself, I wonder if I can tame him. I wonder if I can be the one to make him feel things. I wonder if I can break that hard exterior. I don't care what anyone says, most women would feel triumphant in having been the one that made Mr. Hard Ass turn soft and fall in love. With her. Why do you think women love to see men cry?

Of course, once she has him, the problems begin. And you try to ignore them, because even though he consistently proves to you that he is, indeed, still a thug, you resist this notion because, hey, he fell in love with you. Your grilfriends are telling you that you need to get rid of his triflin ass, and that you are stupid to be putting up with his shit. You ignore them. He may not have been serious about those other hoes, but you are the one that took his heart.

To be fair, that may be true. He might like you; might even love you. But here is a newsflash: Men can change. But it is null and void unless they do it on their own. Women think it is their job to mold and change these men, but guess what? If you see a damaged shirt on the rack for full price, are you going to buy it anyway because you think you can repair it? Even if it is half-off, if you end up not being able to fix it, you have still wasted your money! And don't you think you can hold out untill pay day to buy a brand new shirt?

It seems ridiculous and doggish when it is explained to us that men love the thrill of the chase when it comes to dating, and once they have "conquered" you, they lose interest.

The same thing happens when you try to turn a thug into the man of your dreams. Only difference is, he is still the one losing interest. Trust and believe that while you were conquering him, he was conquering you too. Add to this equation all of his thuggish baggage that will inevitably become yours too.

Seems like a little too much work for one girl, doesn't it?

So everytime I see a thug in a video, all muscle-y, with his top lip curled up and a single tear rolling down his face like he's trying SO hard not to cry, and I feel my panties getting wet...I just change the channel.

I'm a good girl, you see, and I want...need...deserve a good guy. With real sensitivity. And I won't settle for damaged goods.

Ahead of Time

2005-07-18T12:52:00.000-04:00

Arrested Development...Tribe Called Quest...Digable Planets...

Musically speaking, these people, in my book, were not as successful as they could have been because they were ahead of their time. Their sound and style is being emulated by tons of artists today. But back then, people just weren't ready for them.

Lately, I have been feeling frustrated and stressed out over decisions that I am being forced to make - about my life, my career, etc. Most people tell me I'm young, I have plenty of time so there is nothing to be stressed about.

Of course this goes in one ear and out the other. My response: they have no idea what's going on in my head. The thoughts that are swimming, often racing, through my mind about 70 different topics per minute, each with it's own worry attatched to it. It's given me a two-year headache.

I was sharing these woes with a friend and mentor of mine, and she said something turned a light on in my dim and foggy mind. She said that the reason I was so frustrated was because I was ahead of my time, and before I know it, I will catch up with myself and everything will be fine.

Hmmmm......

This makes so much sense to me. I'm not sure they realize this, but people will tell me that I am SO mature for my age, and in the same breath tell me to quit worrying and stressing out about my life; I'm young and I have PLENTY of time.

My mature mind doesn't see all of this time, as most physically mature minds don't.

I have an old soul; my grandmother used to tease me and say I was 5 going on 35, or seven going 37.

And I feel like I'm 25 going on...???

The problem is, my soul and being has a mature spirit, but my mind still often processes things as a 25 year old - I feel older, and cannot properly portray that in my life as a whole, because I am not, in fact, older. Enter the frustration.

People see me as a 25 year old and feel me as much older...and often don't know what to do with it. This is especially inhibiting in my career as well as relationships. Enter the stress.

And I am running, running, running, even faster now, to try and catch up with myself. I feel like a female version of Maniac Magee.

And I am tired.

One day my soul and my being will catch up with myself, and I will be at peace.

That is, if 'myself' ever stops running.

If not, then I will forever be in Arrested Development, searching for Digable Planets. Maybe I'll join a Tribe called Faith, throw caution to he wind, and just Be.

Hot Fries and Capri Suns

2005-07-14T14:03:00.000-04:00

The other day I found myself thinking about how I perceived life when I was in high school. I remember having so much fun! I had, like, four best friends (the girls who you actually saw and/or spoke to on the weekend, your parents knew them, and they knew all of your good gossip FIRST), about eight friends (you hang with them every once in a while outside of school, your parents know their faces but may not remember their names, and they get the watered down version of the good gossip, after it has been properly filtered by the BF's), and a gang of associates (the girls that you spoke to if you passed them in the hallway, and most likely was connected to you by association - i.e. an associate could possibly be one of your friend's friends. Make sense?) At the time, this was simply logical. If you had these numbers down to a science, you could easily be considered (dare I say it) popular. The bus ride to from school was when all the action happened. People laughing loud, gossiping, singing to Walkmans, and undoubtedly, someone had set up concessions in the back right out of their bookbag. And you always were in the middle of the excitement, complete with a bag of Hot Fries and a Pacific Cooler Capri Sun.

And then there were the boys.

High school was the last time I remember myself and every one of my friends having pretty much the same taste in guys. Not to the extent of us all liking the same guy (there was an unspoken code about that) , but we knew if we unveiled a crush, none of our friends would say "ugh, you think he's cute??"

I wish I had the ability to just have a "crush" on a man now, and then plan (with my girlfriends help, of course) how it would all work out. We had a system. You develop a crush, and immediately, a code name must be assigned to him (by you and one of you BF's) so that you may discuss him at anytime without random people knowing who you like. Then, you felt it out, and put your friends on the case:

Me: When I answered that question in class, was he looking at me?
He left the cafeteria right as I was walking in; do you think he was avoiding me?
He brushed my shoulder when he walked pass me and said excuse me, so he must like me too, right?
Alicia's best friend's cousin knows his best friend, and she said that he said that he liked girls with big butts - my butt is big enough, right?

BF:Girl, I could've sworn I saw him staring at you on the bus this morning!
Remember when you dropped your pencil, and you both picked up the pencil at the same time? His finger lingered on yours for a long time!

This went on for several weeks. It seems childish, but not for nothing, it gave me a reason to get up in the morning. I was happy all the time because I saw him often, and when I didn't see him, I was thinking about seeing him. I was perfectly happy with him just saying hello and smiling at me; it could be weeks before he said one word to me! I wanted to always look my best if there was a slight chance I would see him. And if it didn't work out, all of your friends (all three classifications) were there to wipe your tears and find you a new crush.

I miss that.

In Adulthood, if you see somebody that sparks your interest, almost immediately you say or do something or he says or does something to get the conversation going. No mystery or time to daydream about what he would say if he were to talk to you. From there, everything is fast-forward untill the crash. Now all of a sudden, you have to alone with this man at some point, and your friends might not be right around the corner. You don't know anything about him, because there is no friend of a friend of a cousin or anything like that to get his bio from - for all you know, he could be a murderer. Then the Sex stuff takes over the entire intro, which you rarely had to worry about then because you weren't "fast" and eeewww, you swore you would never put your mouth on that!

So the new game begins.

Why hasn't he called me? You find yourself asking four days after the first date. You have forgotten what his face really looks like. In high school, by the time you got to the date part, he already knew a lot about you, especially if you had class together. You could easily find out from one of your many connections how he really felt about you.

Now you have added to your worries (thank you, Society) the notion that you probably "gave it up" too quickly and now he doesn't respect you, so he can't be your boyfriend now, but maybe he could still be useful, because it really wasn't half-bad...it's better than nothing...

And to think, there was a time you thought he would act shady if you didn't give him an end-of-the-night kiss.

So then you heard from your best friend's friend's cousin that he said he was going to dump you (Keep in mind, in high school, you didn't actually have to be together for you or him to get dumped). Life, as you knew it, was OVER! You were all the D's - depressed, devastated, down and out, and done with boys. Down drops the big mirror from the sky to show you everything about yourself that he must have hated, because why else would he have done this to you? You call an emergency BF&F Meeting and pull out all the stops. A slumber party, complete with popcorn, ice cream, a yearbook and a Sharpie (for mustaching his picture), lots of candy and a two-liter soda, music videos to sing along to (you automatically get dibs on the sad songs), and tissue for when you remember why you called the meeting in the first place. By the next day, you have already decided that he is a total A-hole, and you are now convinced (with the help of the BF&F Club) that you are too good for him - on to the next!

Somewhere between Then and Now, the logic has gotten lost. You're not nearly as excited to get up and go to work as you were to go to school. Instead of trying to look your best, you put on whatever you think won't make you look fat. You see, the good thing about a crush was that when you realized it was over, you only looked far enough into the future to see what would happen when you saw him in class on Monday. When it's over now, you look far into the future with pessimism and fear, because when you're grown, it ain't so easy to be 'on to the next'. Cuz you don't know when the next is...or if there will even be a next. There is no hallway to peruse for good men and hardly ever any best friend's cousin to get to scoop on him from. You are out there on your own.

What I would give to be back in high school. I reminisce about good times on the bus and in the hallway by the lockers. I find myself smiling as I write this.

And I'm craving a bag of Hot Fries and a Capri Sun.

Remote Control

2005-07-12T16:51:00.000-04:00

I have decided that lately I have been watching entirely too much television.

It is almost a borderline addiction. Soon after getting the "good" cable (800 channels complete with On Demand features), my best friend used to tease me when I would try to slyly get out of a phone call.

"Oh, you're going to chill with your new best friend, Cable. I see how it is!"

It was like that. I was hooked. I messed around and got a DVR box to record everything I wanted to watch while I was away from the tv (or the channel, in some instances), because believe it or not, everything wasn't available On Demand. I'm not sure of the exact moment I became addicted. I hardly ever watched tv in college. Now I spend at least four to six hours a day in front of the television. I find myself silencing my phone when I'm watching a good program, and deciding to just "stay in" when my friends call to invite me out.

I had to get to the bottom of this.

So I decided, on a Sunday afternoon, that I would try to go a full day without watching television.

I was miserable.

I tried to read a book, but my mind kept wandering...from what I was going to wear the next day to what I was doing with my life...then it would race to which bills I had paid... to which bills I had not paid... to who had called last, me or him... to do I need anything from the store?... to wishing I had some ice cream... to wishing all of this bullshit with my father would blow over...to wondering when was the last time I called my sister...to what the fu*# happened in London?... to what is my purpose on this earth????

And I couldn't even change the channel when I didn't like what was on in my brain.

Too much reality for a Sunday afternoon.

So I went back to my Escape. click. Other Reality. click. Someone Else's Reality. click. False Reality. click. Anything But My Reality. click. RealityTV?....click.

I realized why I watch so much television. Mindless entertainment totally transports me out of my world and into one where the problems aren't mine, if there are any.

If I don't like them, I have the Remote Control.

Any phone call or silent moment would be like a little suction tunnel, swiftly sucking me back into my real life.

It's not so bad, really. When I have other things to focus on, such as work and actually being with friends, it's not that bad. But at the end of the day, I always have to watch a little television, even if it is right before I go to bed. I keep it on while I sleep.

So I can dream about someone else's life and not be plagued in my sleep about my own.

Things I've Learned at 25

2005-07-11T11:59:00.000-04:00

So my birthday just passed (Friday, July 8th) and I am now 25 years old - YAY! (I guess.) I was reflecting yesterday and came up with a list in my head of all the important things I have learned up to this point in my life. I have learned that:

Keeping strong faith is an effort.

All adults are not neccessarily mature.

Most 25 year olds are not as mature as me. ;o)

Watching too much television may not rot your brain, but it can give you an affected view of life.

I express myself better when I write.

I hate talking on the phone for longer than ten minutes.

Silence forces you to think; pay attention to people who always have to have noise around them.
I am one of the afore mentioned people!

My mother and I can learn a lot from one another.

The same things that made me happy as a child still make me happy now.

I now know who my real friends are.

you don't have to be just like your friends; celebrating differences isn't just cultural.

everyone doesn't have to like me in order for me to succeed.

to observe behavior rather than to take one's word for it. ("I'm such a a nice person, I don't understand...")

To watch and observe love in action; it makes you feel optimistic. (any love; mother-daughter, brother-sister, friend-friend, etc.)

you must always say what you mean and mean what you say.

Every word that comes from your mouth, you are the first hear.

Reading not only makes you smarter, but it fuels the imagination.

Laughter is like internal jogging; it is good for the soul and it burns calories!

About ME

2005-07-06T11:32:00.000-04:00

This post was inspired by a dear friend who once said..."Happily Ever After is too easy..."

So here are some things to know about ME:

I am taller than I appear. (it's like people see me through a car mirror)

My hair describes me better than words ever could.

I am always sadder than I look.

But overall, I am extremely bubbly.

People often mistake my optimism for naivete'.

That being said, I am not as naive as I seem.

I love a good story - told, written, or televised.

I hate watching the news. It always makes me think we are near the end of the world. Don't ask me why.

My favorite sense: taste

I hate concerts.

I am very outgoing, but incidently, hate being in big crowds of people. (that should explain the concert thing, and includes most clubs and sporting events).

I love to listen to music, no matter what I'm doing. It makes me feel like I have a soundtrack for life.

I talk to myself. Often.

I am smarter than people think I am.

I am smarter than I think I am most of the time.

I love sex; everything about it. Before, during, after, talking about it, thinking about it, singing about it...thinking about it...doing it.

I love it when someone writes on my back with their fingers.

A friend of mine once froze my pet parakeet to death while petsitting. She cried about. I cried too, but not over the bird. But because she felt so bad about killing it.

I am more sensitive than any person over the age of 10 should ever be.

I hear everything I say before I say it.

I care about what other people think of me.

I am nice.

I am generous.

Pride is my biggest tragic flaw.

I have a very keen sense of smell.

I am happiest when I am full.

I am saddest when I am silent.

I am happy with my body.

ok, I'm content with my body.

I want to do too much most of the time.

and I feel I never do enough.

I am rarely honest about when my feelings are truly hurt, because I feel they don't have the right to be.

I'm a good listener.

I am a firm believer in the theory that boyfriends may come and go, but friendships should last forever.

That being said, I love my friends.

I love my family.

I wish I was (physically) closer to my family.

I am getting to be more and more like my mother every day...and it ain't so bad.

I can tell when I am emotionally hurt much quicker than I tell when I am physically hurt. I once walked around for a whole day without realizing that I had a huge gash in my right thigh; I only noticed when the blood started to drip on the floor. But before someone even opens their mouth, I can tell if they are about to say something that will hurt me.

I love to travel, but haven't really been anywhere.

My First Love

2005-07-06T10:20:00.000-04:00

I had the most disturbing dream last night. I dreamed that my father was my boyfriend. We were visiting my grandparents in Alabama, and we were having problems. Fighting and stuff. When I woke up, I was kind of freaked out. What the hell was wrong with me? I felt so disturbed....

But then it all made sense. My father was the first man in my life.

They say the first man a girl ever falls in love with is her father.

And if there are problems then, there are problems sure to come.

My father and I don't have the best relationship. Frankly, my father and I don't have a relationship. And I never realized untill last night how much it has affected me and the way I date. Every man that has come into my life since I started dating I can, in some way, relate to my father. It was ironically funny to me that in my dream, the reason we were fighting was because he didn't pay me any attention. It seemed like he'd rather be doing anything else, as long as it didn't involve me.

The feelings were so familiar. I would look at him and wonder, what is it about me that makes you afraid to truly know me? Why do you feel it is such a burden to spend time with me? How can you not want to know me?!?!? And...why am I still attatched to someone that doesn't give a damn about me? Why do I keep loving you no matter how much you hurt me?

Sound familiar?

My father/boyfriend/man in my dream had no real distinction in the dream the more I think back on it. I thought I was disturbed because of the fact that I just dreamed that my father was my boyfriend.

But could it be that I was disturbed by the similarities?

They both try to act like nothing is wrong after they have wronged me.

And they both always come back and try to make amends, even though I know the mending is temporary and they will only hurt me again in a while.

The only difference is...deep down in my heart, I know that even when the others don't, my father deserves a second chance...and a third...and a fourth....and a fifth...

You can always go out and get another boyfriend. You won't ever get a chance to get another father.

Daddy, you're an asshole...and I love you.

I'd Rather Be Having Sex...

2005-07-05T13:57:00.000-04:00

Bet you thought that was what this entry would be about, huh? HA! Gotcha. I am bored out of my mind at this new job. This is what is plagueing (sp?) my thoughts today.

Do you ever find that get lonely at the oddest times?

Like today for instance. I went to take my lunch break, and window shopped around a bit before I got my food. I stopped at a cafe' and grabbed a sandwich, and decided, I am not going back to work to eat at my desk. (Working people know better; eating at your desk reads "I'm still working, I'm just eating while I do it". When I take a lunch break, thats exactly what I do - break!) So I thought it would really cosmopolitan to eat at a table by the window, and watch the people walk by.

Not so much.

I didn't really enjoy my lunch, because instead of watching people walk by outside, I watched people meet other people for lunch. They held tables while the others got their food, sat down and dished about the weekend. I found myself rushing to finish my food so that I could hurry up and get out of there.

It was a lonely lunch break.

Here are some other times I find myself feeling lonely.

On the subway. (knowing I'm going home to an empty house probably.)

At the ice cream shop. (it's just not as much to splurge when do it by yourself)

In my kitchen. (Food is fellowship; it is no fun cooking for one. Besides, I hate left-overs.)

At my desk. (i hate when people don't stop and talk to me!)

When hours have passed and my cell phone doesn't ring. (Who would've thought, back in 97 when everybody didn't have one and no one got calls when they weren't home??)

In my bed at night. (nothing worse than being warmed by your own body heat.)

Checking my e-mail at home. (don't you hate people who only check their e-mail once every three days? Doubt they're lonely.)

when I'm talking to my mom on the phone. (She sends strong "I miss you" vibes, even when she doesn't actually say it.)

Here are some strange times when I don't feel lonely:

when I'm reading a book. (reading about people puts me in their world, you know?)

when I'm on the toilet. (can't explain that one - sorry.)

when I'm watching a good program on tv. (same effect as the book, only more instant gratification.)

when I have had at least one hug that day. (I know how to make them last!)

when I think about having sex. (Takes two to tango...see, I managed to tie it in!)

hmmmm...I have now become too distracted to complete this entry...

Why?

2005-07-01T10:02:00.000-04:00

Why is that when my boss comes over to my desk and sees me on the phone, she asks "Are you on the phone?"

Why is that when I think I'm meeting the guy of my dreams, I'm really meeting someone's wonderful boyfriend/husband?

Why is it that when a guy thinks I'm the woman of his dreams, and he's wonderful, I realize that I am not attracted to him at all?

If a teacher can teach, and a singer can sing, then why can't a finger fing? :o)

Why can't I raise my right foot and move it clockwise in a circle and draw the number 6 in the air at the same time without my foot switching directions?

Why do I freak out when I realize I left my cell phone at home, only to go home 8 hours later to no missed calls?

Why do people leave ten minute phone messages? Save some for when I call you back?

Why does the media think we give a shit about Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes?

Why does Alicia Keys get more praise than India.Arie or Jill Scott?

Why do people think that if you can speak, you can do spoken word?

Why can I not brush my teeth without being exposed to harmful bacteria in New York city?

Why do I pay the equivalent to a mortgage on a small house in the South for an apartment the size of a closet?

What is Scientology and I am the only who thinks it's weird that mostly stars are into it?

Why do I have this much free time at my job???

Maybe You Can Help Me...

2005-06-30T14:00:00.000-04:00

Maybe you can help me...

I'm looking for a brotha...My SoulMate? Do you know him?

Haven't seen him before, but I've been told that I would definitely recognize him when I see him.

I bumped into this guy, Mr. Right, who sidetracked me with engaging conversation; I told him I thought he looked familiar. He invited me to lunch at this fancy restaurant, so we could talk some more, but when we got there, he made me wait outside while he talked to the maitre' d. While he was inside, I left to continue my search. I didn't have to time to wait, no matter how nice the place was.

I thought that was him again that I ran into the other day, but it turned out to be this guy Mr. Right Now. He seemed to be in a hurry. We chatted, and he invited me to have lunch with him too. Only he wanted to get it to go. I decided that I wasn't in that big of a rush.

And then I ran into Mr. FWP; I was trying to describe My SoulMate to him, to see if he could help me find him. I eventually gave up; he seemed restless and inattentive. And he mentioned something about going to get something; didn't bother to even ask if I was hungry. Geez, I had wasted enough time already.

I came across this guy...he almost ran into me! He apologized, and asked where I was going in such a hurry. I told him I was looking for someone and proceeded to leave. He grabbed me by the arm (gently) and asked if I had a moment to chat. I said no, not really, I really need to find this person. He said after we talk, I'll help you look. I was tired of searching for the moment anyway. I stopped; we talked. I got wrapped up in the conversation. A great deal of time passed, and I forgot all about my search. It was getting late; I had to go. He extended his hand to shake mine; I noticed a silver bracelet.

I like your bracelet, I said.

Thank you, he said.

He turned to leave, and I remembered there was some tiny writing on the bracelet. Curiosity got the best of me, and I ran after him. Man he walks fast; he was halfway down the block. I caught up to him (out of breath) and asked what was written on the bracelet.

Just my initials, he said. He held it up to show me.

The initials were YSM.

What does that stand for? I asked. He smiled, and a feeling of content blanketed me like a down comforter. Lunch had come and gone, and I wasn't even hungry anymore.

The Wrong Side of the Bed

2005-06-30T11:42:00.000-04:00

I woke up annoyed. I was sleeping peacefully and a decent hour for the first time in weeks. The fu** buddy calls me at damn near midnight (I'm a working woman now, so yes, that is late) trying to come over. Had to decline, even though I swear I haven't gotten any since Brad and Jennifer split. (yes, for me, that is a long time). Couldn't get back to sleep for another hour. Woke up 20 minutes late. My roomie has company, so I'm tippy-toeing through my apartment, which is the size of a matchbox. Waited untill the last minute to moisturize my feet, and when I put on my strappy sandals, my feet were sliding out of them with every step that I took. I missed my bus and had to wait for a later one, which made me late for my I'd-rather-watch-paint-dry-than-be-there temp job. Got to work, and had to make coffee (joy) which came out horrible because, here's a news flash, that's not particularly where my expertise lies. I have to answer two phones today because someone is out, and of course, one of the phones is another office. My knees touch the top of my formerly-a-coffee-table desk, so you can imagine how much it has been jumping up and down to get the phone. I have coffee breath and no gum. Sigh. I definitely woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but somehow I suspect that I may have fallen asleep there.

Do Unto Others...

2005-06-29T17:07:00.000-04:00

What do you do when someone is interested in you, but you're not interested in them...and you don't know why? I constantly am having a guilty conscience about something, and today, it's not returning phone calls. Not just any phone calls; phone calls from guys who, initially, caught my interest, but after a while, lost it. I know it is a shitty thing to do; if I don't like them, why not just tell them? One, because more often than not the reason is something stupid, like he left me a message that was too long, or he spoke too slowly, or I didn't like his shoes. Two, because I am a non-confrontational person, and like most men coincidentally, I'd rather be hit by a Mack truck than hurt someone's feelings or make them feel rejected.

I know I am not the only one who has done this.

And yes, I get royally pissed when it is done to me.

But I also eventually get the picture. I was watching an episode of Six Feet Under (one of my favorite shows) and one of the characters, Rico, was dating this girl. It was all good for the first two dates. She was supposed to call him after the second date, and she didn't call. So Rico blows her phone up, shows up at her hang-out spots, and finally, after about two days, shows up at her door and convinces her landlord to let him in her apartment because he thinks something may be wrong. He barges into her house only to find her in there chillin, mad as hell. Like me, she didn't want to hurt his feelings, so she just stopped calling in hopes that he would get it. By this point, I'm sure you've already guessed that finally just told him she wasn't that into him.

Luckily, I haven't had a guy do that. But I always think about how I feel when a guy I've met decides early in the game that he is just not that into me. I immediately look at myself as to why. But when I do it to them, most of the time, they are perfectly nice guys, just not perfect for me. I don't like to waste time and frivolously date:

I am waiting for a man to, in the words of the Great Jill Scott, incite me to chorus.

And I'm willing to wait, guilty conscience and all.

Even if I am at the back of the line.

Guilty conscience and all.

Quarter-Life Crisis

2005-06-29T14:15:00.000-04:00

So this is my first blog...I haven't written in a diary since I was 17. What do you write on these things? Well, my 25th birthday is coming up...NOT EXCITED. Thought the idea of a "quarter-life crisis" was a crock of doody, but lo and behold...I'd rather poke my own eyeballs with a pencil than turn 25. And I don't really have a good explanation for it. I mean, I am definitely not where I'd imagined I would be at 25. Everyone keeps saying, live it up! You're young! You've got so much time! If these people had any idea how much I was planning to do, they might advise me to hurry up. Because the truth is, I've been hearing that since I was 20, and 25 ain't 20. You know what I mean? I guess it's not even so much what I haven't done, but more...what's next? Don't get me wrong, I appreciate time for what it is, and I understand that in the bigger picture, I am very young. So I don't want a bunch of forty-year olds responding to me in nasty e-mail tones to shut up and suck it up because at least I'm only turning 25. I will do my best to enjoy this birthday.
I have a bunch of friends (who are all, for the most part, older than me) who are willing to help me make this birthday a great one. It's the least they can do, considering that spend every other day of the year giving me shit about not knowing the lyrics to songs that came out, like, the year I was born. (They aren't that much older than me!) . It's funny, they are always complimenting me on how mature I am for my age, and yet they still, in a funny way, always manage to make me feel like a baby. I expect this from my mom, not my friends! And here's a big surprise: I happen to know other 25 year olds who are just as mature! We are not all chickenheads! I made them promise not to me badger me with any snide, sarcastic or bitter age jokes on my birthday. We'll see if they oblige me.