Philosophical Ranting

Assault Via Text Message

2006-04-10T11:49:00.000-04:00

I went out on Friday for a lovely dinner with my two cousins and my aunt, after studying late the night before and going to school and work. As I drove home in the pouring rain I thought to myself "What an exhausting period of my life!" When I got home I took a bath and snuggled into my pjs and began to write in my journal, relishing in the alone quiet time and the rare opportunity for rest. At 11:30 pm, I receive the following text messages:

Michael: "What are you up to?"
Teaser: "Resting after a long day, and u?"
Michael: "Are you up for a movie?"
Teaser: "There are no movies playing at this time"
Michael: "Yes there are, at my house silly"
Teaser: " Actually I am exhausted, can we plan for tomorrow?"
Michael: "This is my only down time!" Maybe next Week!

Now if I am not mistaken, that is an exclamation point after that text.That is the equivalent of text message assault. Just because I am your Friday night Plan B, (because plan A made at 8:00 must have obviously fallen through) and I don't want to drive across town at midnight after being notified at 11:30, to sit on your couch for our second date , does not give you the right to use exclamation points with me. Second, anybody who wants to use having a busy life as an excuse can kiss my ass, because I know busy like the back of my hand and I am telling you that I don't feel like hearing that from some privileged, full time Business student who has classes only on Thursday and Friday, lives downtown and plans random trips to Sweden and South Africa . After all, I am not only a full time law student facing finals far more grueling than those in B-school, and maintaining a JOB at a law firm to keep food on the table. So I essentially have no down time, but I could've made some were I dealing with someone who asked me to the right way.

But my real problem was the sheer assumption that because he gave me a shot, I was supposed to jump at it. I have never been pressed enough to run across town on call, and I'm not about to start now. He obviously does not respect my time enough to call me at a reasonable hour and ask me on a reasonable date, or respect my fatigue enough to let me rest and study tonight while we plan to meet tomorrow. I have everything going on, if not more than most men do and your couple hours of down time are not god's gift. Next week, do better!

Is June 10, 2006 Still Your Wedding Date?

2006-04-08T16:32:00.000-04:00

THE WEDDING EMAIL AND PAPER MAIL HARASSMENT CONTINUES:
Dear Bride & Groom:
We want to make sure that we're up-to-date with your wedding date, so we can continue to provide you with information that will help you plan your day (and so that we won't bother you with pre-wedding planning when you don't need it anymore).
Your wedding date: June 10, 2006
If we've got it right, good luck in the next two months! If your plans have changed, please let us know by updating your information at http://www.theknot.com/profile
Best wishes!
Your Friends at The Knot

Dear Friends at Knot.com:
As a matter of fact June 10, 2006 is no longer my wedding date. I had a relationship nervous breakdown of sorts and walked out of my flourishing relationship last May 2005. You should have been able to detect that based on my inactivity with your site over the past year, but no worries, I know that the sole function of this site is to immortalize the engaged and make the single feel inadequate and developmentally delayed.

I am going through an intense period of growth and transition and my partner was not meeting me on an equal plane, so I moved on. Do not weep, I am in fact happy and hope that I still have your continual well wishes for good luck in the next two months as I endeavor to take my final exams and absorb all I can about Real Estate and Restaurant law at the law firm I will be working for this summer.

Right now I am busy navigating the ever changing and ever challenging playing field of dating.
Should I decide to get married now or ever, I will keep your site in mind, as it seems to have a monopoly on the market of online wedding planning. I promise to buy your magazine and respond to all of your emails as soon as I am intended to someone until death do us part. I promise to gush with my friends over gowns, flowers, favors and overpriced dinner. I promise to stress and join your online chat sessions about the perils of wedding planning. Until then, please kiss off and kindly stop emailing me.
Sincerely,

Teaser

Love and Marriage

2006-04-01T20:18:00.000-05:00

34 years ago today my parents were married before the justice of the peace as my grandmother whimpered tears of sorrow as a witness. Today is April 1, their wedding anniversary, more commonly, April Fools Day. They married their Junior year in college at Penn State. He had an afro and she had a flip. Yes, ironically the marriage was laughable and they realized it was a mistake nearly immediately, but it lasted for 14 years, culminating in quite a scene in 1985, when my father married his secretary and moved around the corner from our home. He and his much younger secretary divorced in 1994. Stepmother got pregnant by her drug dealer. My father was an attorney who had just opened a thriving criminal defense practice and my mother was a prim and proper special education teacher. I was their spunky, smartmouthed, streetwise, spoiled only child.

My mom and I stayed in that home and had a very stable life. My father was very involved from around the corner. He would always come over and wash his car on Sundays and make it to all the major parent clapping events with flowers and a small gift bag containing jewelry and a poetically written card. When we had parties to celebrate my summer birthday, he was always outside on the grill flipping burgers. Last year my mother moved to an apartment around the corner from the house I grew up in and my dad moved back into the same house. Yesterday, they settled the sale and my childhood home is now back in my father's name. My parents went out yesterday and loaded themselves up on margaritas to celebrate their 34th wedding anniversary together and the settlement on the resale of their home to my father. (Divorce ignored.) Then they both took their drunk butts out on other dates with other people after that. I laughed. People always wonder why I am the way that I am with dating and love. A cynic at best a bleeding heart at worst. Perhaps we should all celebrate the anniversaries of mistakes we have learned a lifetime of lessons from. This got me to thinking about love and marriage.

Last week, I begrudgingly caught a bouquet at the wedding of a fabulous couple who truly belong together. When they called all the single women to the floor, I moved swiftly to the back of the crowd and stood with my arms folded. When the bouquet flew in the air I watched it and determined that catching it would only mock my silly love life. I watched and watched that bouquet until it nearly hit me in the face, then I lifted my hand and it fell squarely into my palm like a baseball. Women crowded around me and squealed in shrill voices. I was embarrassed. They asked me if I had a boyfriend and I said no. More than one of them said "Next year at this time you will be married so get ready!" When I went to the coat check with the bouquet in hand the coat check woman noticed and said you better get you boyfriend on the phone and tell him that you are coming home with that, because I caught one and was married within a year." An old woman on my way out said "A pretty lady like you, with no date?" I smiled and laughed. Two days later I checked my mailbox and found a post card from the Marriott asking me to choose their hotel for my guests on my special wedding day (a year ago I put this summer as my wedding date on knot.com when I was planning to be married, now defunct).

Today, my parents 34th wedding anniversary, I filed my taxes and as I signed and dated the paperwork I accidentally wrote the date 4/1/06 in the slot that said spouse. The tax preparer looked into my eyes and said that "every time people make that mistake I tell them that they will be married on the date that they wrote in the spouse space by this time next year." Ironic maybe. April fools day, definitely.

However I do have a date with a hot British guy (Getting his Masters in Finance at GW) that I met in Adam's Morgan on Thursday after celebrating my moot court victory. My friends were leaving me and he walked arm and arm with me down the street. When we reached the corner he kissed me on both cheeks and said, "I will be in touch because I find you fascinating and I can see you feel the same way." I said, "How do you know," and he said, "Some things you just know."

Feeling in a marriage oriented mood this morning, I called a married friend who has been married to her college sweetheart for 2.5 years. (I was their maid of honor.) She whispered to me that she was having an affair with two men during her lunch hour and was planning a divorce by next year when I could represent her. (She was serious, but we joked about it.) I laughed, snuggled down in my cozy couch with a cup of coffee, celebrating my singularity. Who knows, I might get married next year on this date, but the way things are going he'll have to drag me kicking and screaming down the aisle. Because the grass is not always greener on the other side.

Running With Scissors

2006-03-20T14:26:00.000-05:00

Okay so the man named Caution is gone. No need to go into more detail than it deserves, but let's say we ended up having different ideas of casual and I am too old to let boys convince me to do things that I do not feel like doing and to take what comes along instead of waiting for what I need. Some men are good for running in the park with on Sunday mornings, some are good for running into relationships with and some are good for running quickly away from because you know from day one that there is no future where there is nothing present. Speaking of the latter, talked on the phone yesterday to a guy I had randomly given my phone number to a few weeks back. He is a fairly simple fellow. When I asked about his job, he told me he was in business for himself. (I thought to myself, not another drug dealer.) He clarified by telling me that he was starting a real estate development company where he can see his design dreams come true. I said, "Excellent, how may properties have you done." He said, "None, I am just trying to have my own house remodeled right now." Ooooookay, maybe I am a layman, but don't most people hold down a day job while their only client for their business is still themselves. I was going to ask, who is paying you dude?, but i figured that was a little premature. When I told him that I was in law school, he beamed with excitement. He said he was going to pick my brain for all of my legal knowledge. Then he asked if I made any big time lawyer money while I was in school. He asked how much my part time job paid. I told him that it paid an hourly wage and left it at that. Geeez this guy has no tact. He then proceeded to state how lucky he was to have met a lawyer and how everybody wants to marry a doctor or lawyer because they make good money. I said, if you really believe that then why didn't you become a doctor or a lawyer because no woman wants to be married because of the money she makes. Especially when she is naturally prone to have to take time off or lessen her hours to have and raise children. Then I hustled him off the phone to take another call. (Note to self, avoid this dude's phone calls hereafter.) I have tried so hard not to be too picky that I flushed some standards down the toilet. Dating or attempting to do so is nothing but running in various directions with scissors. You are generally doing things that your mama told you not to do and hoping that you don't fall and hurt yourself and prove her right. Back to the drawing board.

Blogger Break

2006-03-14T18:38:00.000-05:00

I need a brief break from blogging while I complete two twenty page papers and try to figure out what is going on in my classes. Will be back on soon =)

Insulation Mode

2006-03-05T16:09:00.000-05:00

Ahhhhhh. Ladies and Gents, Spring Fever is indeed upon us even despite the wintry breeze that we still bundle up for. Love, passion, horny toads are indeed spreading their wings in all walks of life and in every direction. Fascinating time of year I must say. M-yo had a date last night. S.A. is on her way across the country to snuggle with a new beau. K-kookie's phone won't stop ringing for dates and Cool AC was racking 'em up at the Blue Room on Thursday. Breezer is indeed about to give birth to the fabulous and beautiful product of last year's spring fever and then she will be back in the game. Even my mom has had dates with a psychologist and an accountant in the past two weeks. Gotta love that month of March. I am indeed in full insulation mode. What the hell is insulation mode you may ask? Well, as a woman who is at least a quarter century old, we have loved, lost and loved again, hooked up with hope and had our share of disappointment. We have let men hold all the cards and learned to snatch some back. We have banged our head into the same wall time and time again and wondered why it always hurts. And at the end, if we are lucky, we have become a little wiser from the process. And now we arrive at the truth that the only real protection is proper insulation. I have met a man. While he seems fabulous at the onset, we must refer to my earlier post " No Clapping in the First Round of The Limbo" to understand why I am indeed taking an ever so cautious route to liking him. Things have been good so far. Warm and affectionate and respectful. Of course his arrival into my life is accompanied by an in-flux from the past. My Secret from the earlier post has decided to make a continual play for a public relationship with me which culminated in an 8:00 am phone call asking why we can't try again and my other male friend who was so fond of offering me dates to kick it on the couch, upgraded to taking me out to lunch yesterday. Its like they can sense my disinterest because of the new guy and they turn it up a notch so they don't get axed. Funny how that's what it takes. But I digress. The new man, let's call him Caution, has created quite a stir in my otherwise dull life as of late. He has however, felt the need to put the disclaimer on everything that he just came out of a relationship a month ago and really wants to takes things slow because he is not ready to automatically become a boyfriend again. Understandable. I am swamped with Law School, working during the school year and preparing for a moot court competition and final exams, plus my car is totaled from a pothole. But is such a disclaimer really necessary? I mean, isn't it evident when two reasonable people enter into something that there is a dating period of varied length before things become serious and committed. On the other hand, the fact that he keeps reinforcing this idea communicates his intention to be free from commitment and consistency pressures early on. Fair enough. But knowing that he has reserved his right to party and that I like his voice, his kiss, his company, I have to go into insulation mode. Sometimes when we are dating someone who expresses their need to keep the relationship casual, we have to make sure that we do not get too attached. After all, regularity breeds comfort and normalcy. So now I have to gather a team to make sure that he is not the only one. I have to make sure that I stay busy with my schoolwork, my friends and at least have one or two other options on the backburner just to show myself that I have put forth a good faith effort to keep things casual. It is complicated because this guy is one of those people who treats you every moment like you have been his girl for years. Kisses on the forehead, holds doors, puts on your coat, massages, taking you past the house to meet his brother, taking you for drinks with his best friend and his girlfriend, text messages throughout the day telling you where he is. A girl can get used to this! But at the end of the day, you can't play a player. And although I turned in my player card quite some time ago, a sista can dust off her feathered cap and cane in desperate times. The truth is that when we decide that this is nothing serious at the onset, you may get less effort from me then you would have if you just let it flow. I will be consistently keeping my options open and seeing what's out there. You may get a home cooked meal only once a month, but that is your loss and there are of course other modifications that you can deduce. So I answered his disclaimer with, I have no problem keeping things casual and I expect that both of us reserve our right to see other people, but in the interest of fairness, I must warn you, be careful what you wish for. Insulation mode begins now...........

Trains, Shame and Automobiles

2006-02-23T14:23:00.000-05:00

People who ride the train have better, more peaceful lives. I know this now. Yesterday I had the privilege of making the acquaintance of a fabulous DC native pothole in the dark. My car lifted up and banged hard back down to earth. To be followed later by the Check Oil and Check Engine indicator lights. Dammit! By the time I reached home, nearly two blocks away, the noise of my car's engine alone lead me to believe that there were at least 32 helicopters preparing to emerge from my hood. I am ashamed that I hit this pothole even though it is the responsibility of the District of Columbia to maintain its streets, it is also the duty of the reasonably prudent law student to anticipate the likelihood that D.C. has neglected this responsibility. Dammit!

When I turned off the ignition I was devastated to confirm the truth that I couldn't accept, that all that helicopter noise was in fact coming from my little Jetta-Blue. Dammit! (I say aloud) How much is this gonna cost? I try to turn the car on again and my motor growls a yelp of pain and distress. I go upstairs distressed as well and badly, madly needing a drink. Reach my apartment, there is Rum, Citrus Vodka and not one damn mixer in the place. I go back down to my car. 5 floors down just to look at her, talk to her, pray over her.

When I reach the lot, I see that she has vomited her motor oil all over the ground. The puddle of thick black oil is the size of a large beach towel. I look in disbelief, I want to pelt the car with stones and kick it hard. Are you doing this because I do not go to church? Well god I hear you now as most young sinners do in times of peril. I call the essential 3 men in my life, they all ask the last time I got an oil change with a knowing authority that oil changes must be the problem. When was the last time a late oil change caused a car to vomit idiots!!!!!! I hate how confident men are.

Get the car towed this morning by a nasty asshole who keeps flirting with me and insisting that I must be Hawaiian, even if I do not know that I am. He knows what Hawaiian women look like he says. I roll my eyes. I miss my first class getting the car to the shop, but thank my lucky stars that I live in a functional city where there is a train.

I find Train Life to be better for the following reasons:

1. You feel less lonely on your commute. People around smiling and frowning makes me feel alive and connected to society as a whole.
2. Seeing this fascinating, buzzing city whiz by through the window makes me feel alert and reflective and brilliant and important.
3. Walking to the station with these millions of books on my back is excellent exercise and I decide to extend the walk by being one of those assholes that walks up the entire escalator squeezing past the smarter people who actually go to the gym for their workout.
4. The best reason to catch the train is to join the others in celebration and praise of the invention of the iPod. What a wonder it is! All my favorite music of all time in my coat pocket. I feel awful so I turn on that iPod and blast that Natasha Beddingfield song "unwritten". That funloving, stress free white girl reminds me that life is exciting and full of mystery, despite my brokenness, loneliness and car distress. Even if there is an oil slick in my parking space, life is a gift and worth living.
I look around and notice the other iPod people laughing and singing their challenges away. I may have no car, no man and no money, but I got my iPod and it always has the secret weapon to heal me and bring me back on track. I snuggle down in the train seat and celebrate that my problems are not as serious as illness, addiction, abuse and insanity, I glance out the window and realize that the city is overflowing with people with those challenges. I let the music take me back to my youth as Arrested Development sings "I am Everyday People". I laugh about an 8th grade memory from when that song was popular....... an old lady smiles and admires my zest as I mouth the words of the song..........and all is well in the world.

Secrets

2006-02-22T13:48:00.000-05:00

Today I walked by a man.....stopped…smelled exactly like my high school boyfriend, a mixture of polo sport, and little perspiration and some unidentifiable hair product. Just the smell alone made me want to embrace him in familiarity. I looked at his face and it wasn’t him at all, he didn’t even know me. When you have known someone intimately and personally, you never forget certain things about him or her. Sensory memories of the way they made you feel come back randomly. Leads me to the question, can you ever really act non-chalant in the presence of someone that you once shared a special connection with?

Coincidentally, on this same day I had a warm and friendly conversation with a former mistake relationship that I stumbled into last year on the rebound from an intended engagement. Our interactions are usually clouded with resentment and awkwardness, especially in the presence of others. Our relationship was for the most part a secret. That is the thing about secret relationships, are they ever really a secret if we start acting all bizarre as soon as we come around each other. Can’t everyone feel the daggers shooting across the table? It ended badly and I worked really hard to drag all the angst into our day to day meetings at professional school.

But today was different, today was friendly and familiar. He sat down with me in the presence of others, warmly said my name, and put his hand on my shoulder. I was crocheting a scarf, I just learned how. I was proud. He said “remember what I used to tell you all the time?…….…..”…Everyone at the table paused…I felt bizarrely naked and exposed…we were a little shocked at this quick change from the disguise we usually wear to hide that we have ever had a personal conversation, let alone a relationship.

We usually exchange curt greetings and direct the conversation quickly to others. I said “I remember a lot of things that you’ve told me, to which are you referring?” He responded, I told you how attracted I was to your old soul. How you do things in such a comforting way and that takes other women a lifetime to learn. Watching you crochet just puts that nurturing thing you have going on over the top.” I smiled, I looked away…angry at first…. how dare he speak to me so personally, and then warm that he could say such things about me from personal experience. He asked if I would make him a scarf… I thought about it…but I will never make him a damn thing. I am angry that we were never open; I think that secrets kill relationships, and spirits and confidence. It makes us feel ashamed of ourselves. We hide only what we think is wrong. Sure we disguise it as fear of people intruding on our lives, but honestly we are embarrassed at first.

I remember that in the beginning, I wanted my relationship with him to be a secret. He had a reputation for being a player and being full of shit. He was a sleazy dog. Wasn’t cute enough, wasn’t tall enough. I didn’t want people to think that I was stupid and gullible enough to like him. So I convinced myself that I was using him to get by and to a degree I was. But the secret was awkward and any time we had a good day or night, the secretness would choke me the entire following day. The truth was, when I had a bad day, he made me laugh. We would argue and go back and forth constantly and I liked his passion. He would listen to me and suggest solutions to my problems and in the dark he was tender and attentive where I was cold and standoffish. Because I was afraid. He persistently tried to get me to care and I wouldn't. So he gradually gave less and less until there was nothing.

Today I realized that that one conversation was all I ever wanted with him and never had. When he got up from the table, the two people who were sitting there looked at me searching for answers “What’s going on between you two?” "Nothing," I say. “I thought that you couldn’t stand each other.” “Jesus, we can’t stand each other at all”.. …….. "That’s not what we just saw.” I was quiet. I had been so afraid that someone would see that we cared for each other despite the bullshit, that I realized that that exposure was all that we needed to feel real and validated and whole and worthwhile. I thought back to when he publicly moved on and dated someone else at school and how I felt small and vulnerable and hurt. I remembered how I disguised that as if I never cared at all. He said something on the day he told me that he was dating someone new, “Did you love me? Were you even proud to date me? Since day one you have treated me like you knew I would fail.”

I mean I wasn’t in love, but if I wasn’t so busy hiding I would have at least been able to say that I like when people can tell that we know each other and find each other special. I am grown and if I want to have such a relationship, I should not be ashamed of it at all. There is of course no future for us, but when we shared something, it was basic and honest and made us closer than curt hellos. It makes me feel good when I give it more respect than that. Today the warmth made me feel good, and after these months of angst, we finally have it right.

This Is My Scent, Know It Well

2006-02-19T15:14:00.000-05:00

After 3 shots of Patron, and 3 mixed drinks (me and cuz took a cab by the way), I gave my number to a fat guy whose hair was long and appeared relaxed or pressed. To make matters worse, he seemed to have braided and unbraided this hair to achieve a wavy effect. Yuck yuck yuck. I was at a lounge. In my drunkenness I got up on my knees and looked out of the window randomly only to see my former crush coincidentally passing by hand in hand with his new girlfriend. Hair in bun, glasses, outdated coat. What makes people hold hands in front of millions in Adam's Morgan? Worse, why do some people who appear to be terribly ordinary have their hands held and some of us are left with our hands swinging lonesome beside us. It is easier to believe that some people are partnered up while others seem doomed to a lifetime of chasing our own tails because of some element of perfection that we are lacking. For example, If I just go out more often then I'll meet someone, If I lose a few pounds, If I stop dating at school, If I open up more quickly, If I wear this outfit to the club. But yet everywhere you turn, someone worse looking, crazy acting, who never leaves the house, heavier than you, is getting their hand held and you are still alone despite your alterations. Reminds me of a conversation I had with the guy sitting next to me in class the other day. He was joking about going to the club straight from soccer practice, sweating and disgusting. He said he would walk up to a girl in his dirty soccer gear and hug her and say, "This is my scent, know it well." He said if she was really into him, then it wouldn't matter. Is that the truth? I mean what are we actually searching for, someone who is only crazy about us when wear are at our most perfect or someone who can see that we are fabulous despite our stinky, dirty soccer clothes. I mean after all, I met the last person that I was actually in love with in the extreme ghetto midday, at McDonald's, after I had been crying because I was going to quit my job, wearing blue khakis and and my work uniform polo shirt with sneakers. He told me I was beautiful. But 3 years later, After 3 shots of Patron, and 3 mixed drinks (me and cuz took a cab by the way), I gave my number to a fat guy whose hair was long and appeared relaxed or pressed. I looked fabulous that night. See what it gets you. Shoulda gone in my gym clothes and announced, "This is my scent, know it well! Any Takers!" After all, real life is gritty and on most days we look average at best and the hand holding has to be good every day of the week. =)

Happy Valentines Day

2006-02-13T16:20:00.000-05:00

On an extremely cold winter night in Philadelphia, I rode in the backseat of my mom’s Volvo whining excessively about going to McDonald’s. “Mom, I know exactly what I want when we get to McDonald’s” “French Fries and Chicken Nuggets!” Accompanied by the melodic childhood refrain “Are we there yet?” I was 6 years old, an only child and at least at that moment behaving like the biggest brat in the world. My mother didn’t respond. The rain was violently beating down on the windows of the station wagon and I was not concerned about anything real in the world like the possibility that we could hydroplane, all I wanted was McDonald's like she promised. So I repeated myself over and over again.

She slowed the car down at a stoplight and looked over at an old white woman at the bus stop. Her umbrella was flipping backwards over her head and she was trying desperately to hold onto it in the wind and rain. She had more bags than she could carry with ease. My mother opened the door and motioned towards the woman to invite her into the car. As the woman walked toward us, I exclaimed to my mother, “Are you nuts, you are telling her to get in our car. We don’t know her? And she’s all wet!” My mother quickly shushed me and the rain blew into my face from the open door as the woman adjusted herself in our car, which only irritated me more.

I was seething with anger. My mother introduced me to the woman and I sat with my arms folded. How could we stop a mission to McDonald's because of a stranger. We were on our way somewhere and this woman’s needs had interrupted our own. And what kind of Bozo was my mom inviting strangers into the car in the dark. What kind of threat could we be facing? My mother chatted with the woman and asked her where she was going and then proceeded to take her there. The woman thanked her profusely and got out of the car at her home. She offered my mother money, which she politely declined.

My mother looked in the backseat at me. I frowned and scowled at her. I said with all the evil I could muster “McDonald’s is Probably Closed Now!!!” I asked my mom, “Why’d you have to pick up that stupid lady?” My mom said, “because it was cold and rainy and we had a warm car” ………then she stopped talking……looked at me……and said…… “If I have to explain to you why I picked up someone in need, then you are not the person that I thought you were. You are acting selfish and mean and that is not how I want you to be. I am so embarrassed of you right now”. The tears ran down my face. We were silent on the way home.

That rainy night I learned that being a good person and a loving person wasn’t always the most convenient thing to do. Sometimes it would take you out of your way and change your own interest and plans. Today it got me thinking about love, in light of Valentines Day. Sometimes we miss the very point of love. We get all wrapped up in the trappings and the romance and forget that love is none of that. Those are just rituals. Love is when you surprise yourself by the ways you are willing to stretch for someone else. It is not doing the convenient things that serve your own interest or the trite things that are expected, but when you find that you are willing to do what you never thought you would do because it is just that important or just that necessary.

It took me several years to realize that my mom hadn’t picked that lady up solely for her benefit. At the end of the day, she had a daughter in the back seat who was learning from watching her. Who obviously thought she was automatically owed kindness and rewards and love. Because of that she had to stretch her goodness into the unexpected, she had to stretch selflessness out until it was in your face. Until that daughter would never forget that it is an embarrassment for the people who have loved and nurtured you for you to be a selfish asshole. A daughter who would recall the story when she would face inconvenient opportunities to be better than she was inclined to be? Thinking of ways to teach those that you love, how to love better and more richly, so that their lives can be enhanced is the greatest gift you can give.
Surprise yourself this Valentine’s Day!!!

She's Just Not That Into You

2006-02-09T12:22:00.000-05:00

Just because someone asks you out, doesn't mean you have to go. In the age of internet dating and MTV dating show NEXT, we are lulled into the false sense that people's feelings do not get hurt when we reject them any more than the apples get hurt at the grocery store when you choose some that suit your fancy and leave the bruised ones behind. After all, you know what you are looking for and why waste time?

Well I found myself in the precarious position last week of really wanting to see the movie "Something New". (Shoulda gone with my girls.) So my phone rings and it is this guy that I met through Match.com awhile ago. We'll call him "Boring". Now the reason that I never followed up with Boring is that he was boring on the phone and I simply could not stand the sound of his voice (kinda like a 14 year old, insecure, crackly voiced white boy from the valley). To add to the vocal problems, he also was 25 and lived from birth until now with his parents, went to college virtually around the corner at Univ. of Md. College Park, and often discussed with me what his mom was making for dinner. The jury is still out on whether those are good reasons to dismiss people. But either way, I stopped picking up his calls for that reason. However, here he was making the call a couple months later at precisely the right time for me to have someone else pay for the movie I wanted to see. I know that's wrong. It went like this.

Teaser: Hello
Boring: Hi, how have things been....blah....blah....blah....I still am very interested in meeting you.
Teaser: Well I am pretty busy with school and work and everything.
Boring: C'mon, you need to take a break. How 'bout we go to the movies tomorrow?
Teaser: (hmmmmm) Could we go see the movie Something New? I have been really wanting to check that out.
Boring: That would be great. How about we meet at the Silver Spring Movie theater at 9:00.
Teaser: Okay, would you like to have a drink or something while we wait since it is opening night for the movie, we should probably get there early.
Boring: I do not drink alcohol. I've actually never tried it.
Teaser: (Thinking: 25 year old men whose mommies make dinner and who have never tried alcohol or lived alone freak me out)
Boring: But you can have a drink and I'll have a sprite.
Teaser: Okay

Now I knew full well that I didn't like him. So when we go out, it is apparent that he really likes me. Evidenced mostly by the fact that during every minute of uncomfortable silence, he tells me, I like you so much. I do not return it, but smile and say thank you. It is cold outside. He is wearing no coat. (Guess mommy wasn't there to remind him when he left home.) He insists on walking me home (because I love closeby). He shivers and his jaw chatters together the whole way, I feel bad for him and almost want to offer him my coat so that he can stop all that ridiculous and abnormal quaking. We reach the main door of my Apt. and he grabs my hand and says, I want to see you again next week. His palm is sweating. I focus my attention on the way outdated Ankh necklace around his neck. [humming Erykah Badu On and On in my head] His haircut is not edged up and hasn't been in weeks. Kinda gross looking.

When I focus back in, I can see that he is trying to see if its okay to kiss me. It is not okay. I say something concluding the night. I think about all that I am responsible for and know that I do not have time to indulge this situation that I am really not into. I said, well give me a call and we'll see about next week.
He says Ah Good, I'll think of something creative for us to do.

Well he has called this week and I never called back. I feel really guilty. All this complaining I do about men who do not try and now here's one who has been trying and I have been misleading and now he believes there is a possibility where there is none. That was wrong of me. Just like the book He's Just Not That Into You, we really need to publish the version for men She's Just Not That Into You. How could I have handled this differently? Do I have to go on his creative date this weekend? Oh Geez, this is so complicated.

BANNING KICKIN IT !!

2006-02-08T11:44:00.000-05:00

How many love stories have you heard that begin with, we just kept kicking it on the couch and then we fell in love?
I got a question. It has been weighing in my soul. What the hell happened to courtship? At least in Washington D.C., it’s a lost art. I cannot tell you how many times over the last year I have been asked to come to some dude’s house before he has taken me out anywhere. Now I’d like to believe that there is nothing inherent about me that screams chicken head, but yet one after another all of these fabulously romantic offers to come over and “kick it”. I’ll tell you what I’d like to kick!

Certain man who shall, as they all do, remain nameless met me about two months ago. We get along famously over the phone and I enjoy his jovial daily calls morning noon and night, minding all my business and trying to really achieve the status of confidant and sounding bored at the end of the day. He even talks about our future together and debates with me on my views about child-rearing. After a whole bunch of hypothetical plans and “Maybe we should go to ________ one day”, nothing ever panned out. Now after two months he has switched to, “Hey what are you up to this afternoon, why don’t you come by the house and watch TV?”.………Why the hell would I want to do that?

There used to be a process that was followed to all of this. I miss that process. It used to go like this:
Man: I am so glad that we met. You seem like a really interesting and wonderful woman with a lot going for herself. I would love to take you to dinner on Friday.
Woman: Oh that sounds lovely. What time works for you?
Man: I'll pick you up at 8:00.
Woman: Where will we be going? (so I know how to dress)
Man: Someplace that reflects the class, style and elegance that attracted me to you in the first place.
Woman: [Blushing.]

FRIDAY
Man: I brought you these flowers. I don’t remember what they are called but the man at the store said that they were rare and exotic and that made me think of you.
Woman: Oh thank you, they are lovely, I’ll put them in water.
(Dinner: Eat, laugh, Pull out chairs, hold doors, flirt)
(After Dinner: Good car ride home)
Woman: I had a great time tonight.
Man: Me too, would you like to go out again.
Woman: I would love too.
Man: Let’s meet for coffee and a Movie on Wednesday.

Now, this interchange is usually followed by a series of varied dating experiences that lead people to either conclude that they are not a good fit or enter into a relationship that will be more continual in nature. Once that level of comfort starts to be established, then suggestions like “Let’s cook dinner in tonight and grab some wine and blockbuster movies” become appropriate. My point is that pure, run of the mill, romance-free and effort-free kicking it should be reserved for the real bowels of a relationship and even then, should not become the overwhelming norm. Lack of effort is simply insulting and lazy and not worthy of the type of women that these half-ass dudes are pursuing. There is a lofty array of chicken heads left in D.C. who require nothing but some good weed, a Double Deuce, and a couch and TV to be enamored with a fella. But I shamelessly demand more! Why, because I give more once it is earned and I am not giving to someone who has shown me that effort is not his forte.

The male response to this will no doubt be to write me off as a materialistic, stuck up, gold digger. Oh Darlings, I have gold of my own, romance of my own, and I am not sharing it with an effortless sucker. I will not be “kickin it” or making any efforts towards anyone who can’t show me that my affection is worth at the very least a trip to Ruby Tuesday’s and a Movie. The raw dirty truth is that when a man is into you, he will make an effort to sweep you off your feet and when he does not, that is a real good reason to move it along. Because kickin it on the couch only begets more of the same (to be later complicated with "kicking it" in the bed) and we are getting too old for that shit.

So back to my male friend who loves the phone and kickin it. After saying no, a series of times, I took the honesty route yesterday. I said: “Let me tell you why I keep saying no to you, YOU MISSED A STEP”. (I proceeded to tell him all that I just told you) Not surprisingly, he hasn’t called since. Who lost what? That is a question for Socrates and his crew, but I am setting the rules here and I am thrilled to take my damn self out to dinner, buy my own flowers and kick it on my own comfy couch in the meantime. Confidence and Standards Ladies! In the meantime run a warm bath and treat yourself like a princess, until the prince arrives.

Defiance

2006-02-06T19:43:00.000-05:00

Sometimes it wakes me up abruptly in the middle of the night.....I have the same dream over and over. Disturbing silences breed the truths that hide from everyday chatter. We move forgetting the history of even the last step that our feet took before this one broke beneath us. I saw you yesterday staring at the sun in the middle of the day even when old wives tales taught you that would surely go blind that way. I was proud of you for not listening. I often find myself wondering how many people there are who take the world as seriously as we do. We find ourselves too thoughtful to sleep well some days and to sleepy to think well other days. But the solution to our insomnia is not to wake us, because all this alertness is the damn problem. I wonder if it is okay to put my hand on your shoulder, if I feel like touching which I usually do. If you jerk away I am afraid I will never fell like touching again and honestly that makes me deathly afraid of the ways you may damage my honesty and leave me to collect the spoils. I saw you yesterday staring at the sun in the middle of the day even when old wives tales taught you that would surely go blind that way. I was proud of you for not listening. I have this question to ask and I hope that it doesn't make you mad. If I disappear inside myself, will you come looking for me or just leave? I just get terrified that one of these days my thoughts will stop weaving webs that matter, you will find someone deeper and more natural looking. I wear make-up dammit and I always will. I am not hiding from a damn thing. I like it. It connects me to my mother. I miss my mother sometimes in the middle of my busy day, I miss her and I know that nothing could cure me but the smell of her Clinique face lotion and Anais Anais. My moon has freckles and tanned ivory skin and a smile on its surface and without her light there is little peace at night. But I asked if you would come looking. I mean if I wake up and find myself missing, do you notice any difference between me and anybody who could come and pretend? How would you know? I would know you anywhere because everything you do has your father's insecurities written all over it in defiance. You deal with the world like we are the police harassing you on the side of the road. Sometimes there is a break in that for me and I am so thankful. The moment I didn't feel that way, I would scream out loud that you were missing. I would scream and scream. I saw you yesterday staring at the sun in the middle of the day even when old wives tales taught you that would surely go blind that way. I was proud of your for not listening. I could only really love someone exactly like this, someone exactly like this.........Except he would write about me too, and that is non-negotiable................... I will never find that here........so I gotta move on.......but where the hell does someone like me go........when after dealing with you, I will be secretly punishing everyone I meet for not being you, or acting just the same. Dammit.

COLLEGE DAYS

2006-02-06T16:48:00.000-05:00

I happened upon a friend's blog today. howjoeseesit.blogspot.com Quite the controversial character from my college years. I laughed in stitches reading his entry Clash of the Titans and the comments that followed unearthing longstanding rivalries. He recently attended the Morehouse v. Clark Atlanta basketball game. His chronicles of the events surrounding the game, performances and conduct of patrons was hilarious. Man I Loved College. While it was riddled with its share of drama, gossip and hateration, it connected me to myself in more ways than I could have imagined. It gave me patience to tolerate people. It gave me courage to strike out and try new things. It gave me self evaluation and evolution so that I could learn what parts of myself to add and take away. It showed me love, broke my heart and showed me recovery and then did it all again and again. It showed me who to follow, who to lead and who to leave alone. In the midst of it all, we all came from different places, with different ideas and different temperaments and we learned to be enamored with ourselves in a celebrative and individualistic sort of way. I secretly planned a million ways to stay in my little college bubble and when life took over and I was forced to move on, it took a major recovery period. But since time has passed, I see that we get to return from time to time and spend moments in our adult lives that bring it all back in sensory overload. Sometimes it happens at homecoming, on the phone, on a random visit with an out of towner, or in a group of new friends that show you that you are glad that college ended because it allowed another chapter to begin. That chapter has its set of lessons waiting in the wings and friends and loves and hurts and heartaches. After all. If life is nothing else.........it layers us with armor of experience that carries us through the next phase. While I reflect fondly on the past.......I celebrate the present and look earnestly to the future. Life may not be the party we expected, but as long as we're here, we might as well dance.

GRANDMA SAYS

2006-02-01T22:47:00.000-05:00

My Grandma says I'll fall in love 1,000 times before I fall in love. Well here I am at 999.5 and I'm getting sleepy. Had enough............Number 985 was nice and genuine (never did know why I didn't want to be with him). Can't stand that little chicken head I see with him, but I never go back. He couldn't keep me, so I called his bluff. I say if you're black, you love black (when permitted). Grandma thinks so too I think................Number 222 was fun, but that was before I was old enough to reason out obvious repercussions on the brink. Loving him was easy, but he wasn't the one..........Back to counting. One , two, three four Mr. Macho at the door, knocking hard like he about to break it down. Well let him in, shit! I've been waiting for someone to come boss me around, lord knows I stopped paying attention awhile ago to clowns, and by the way I have nothing for an innocent man, so tell interested parties I am difficult, need proper game plan............Oh really, let's try alone. Couple random suitors on the phone who leave the whole world to be desired, I told your ass I'm tired. Your attention feels alright but it isn't the light and I'm on my last half a piece of love so your shit better be tight if you want it.......I have chosen some but they front on it. I'll save it for much later, beneath a setting sun and would wager a ton on it, that is turns out to be none.........You know what would really be some shit if number 1,000 turns out to be number one.........

I HATE BEING SINGLE! Am I Going Nuts?

2006-02-01T11:20:00.000-05:00

Today, riding to school, listening to Mariah Carey and burst into tears as "I Don't Wanna Cry" blared from the radio. It has been 10 months and I can still cry on cue. Is that normal? Got me to thinking......since the day I ended my 2.5 year relationship I have been on a binge of searching for a partner with a feverish pace. I honestly think I am going nuts. Every one seems like a prospect and I just want to find what me and my ex had without the problems and long term concerns. It is like my future husband died or something when we broke up and I didn't give myself time to grieve. Literally the day that me and my ex broke up, I was at dinner at the house of a prospective (unworthy) suitor, drinking wine and sharing a first kiss. Which spiraled out into the drama series which ushered in this year. I just didn't want to face the sting of being alone in any head on way and I have been fighting against facing it ever since that day. Yahoo Personals, Match.com, Meeting People Going Out, momentary obsessions with male friends who have been around for years, momentary obsessions with random formerly unnoticed guys at school. All to avoid the reality of the fact that I wake up in the morning and feel a pervasive sadness that nobody wakes me up, there is no one to cook breakfast for or exercise with, to jog in the park with. It saddens me to buy packs of stuff at the grocery store that are too big for me to eat by myself or even the fact that I am in the grocery store by myself. I hate that only my own laundry is in the basket without some huge phantom sock or basketball shorts. I hate that I have to search for things to do on the weekend instead of having pre-determined commitments to a relationship. I detest that every man I meet I wish I could press fast forward and make him do all of those things with me so that I do not feel this tremendous hole in my spirit. I know for those of you who have been subjected to my stories that every week it seems like there is something new for me to be nuts about and every time that falls away, I am left with very raw and new feelings about the failing of my relationship. When the next contrived prospect comes along, I can't help but believe that maybe he is my salvation from this rut. But then, he disappoints me too with inconsistency or odd evasive practices that make me wanna scream, why did I leave my relationship in the first place. This is a desperate circle. Am I going nuts? I really need some therapy I think.

Buck Fush!

2006-01-31T10:52:00.000-05:00

We cannot ignore the fact that my mysterious secret crush called me the next Condi Rice. Is that a compliment or is he calling me a brown nosing, figure head twit, with only perceived (as opposed to actual) power to affect any kind of change with respect to Bush Policy? BUCK FUSH? Or the other way around.

Equal Opportunity Crushes "I Must Be A Troll!"

2006-01-30T13:29:00.000-05:00

I am a discriminatory crusher. When I have a crush on someone, I expect them to receive my flirting and return it with a request for a date. I mean after all, shouldn't they be flattered that I like them so much? And absent some exceptional circumstances (like girlfriend or gay) I should be a reasonably good catch considering that I only create and pursue crushes that I feel are in my league. Which brings me back to my earlier post on leagues, maybe I am unrealistic about my own league. Waaaahhhhhhhhh. Perhaps, unbeknownst to myself I am in fact a troll. Let's back up, not only has a short big headed man approached me this week, but a certain gentleman who goes to my school has also made his crush known to me. Sure, he is tall, reasonably well built, smart and from a wealthy family. But he exhibits behaviors that appear slightly autistic in nature such as a complete inability to decipher appropriate standards of social conduct. (Kinda like Kramer from Seinfeld for lack of a similarly odd comparison.) He is a geek in other words and he dresses funny, tucking his sweater and sweatshirts into dress pants and wearing distinctly 1980's throwbacks to Michael Jackson and Charles In Charge. He also is very sweet and attentive, but he hasn't a social clue. So he comes up to me and says "I just want to tell you that I am so lucky to have a class again with you this semester. I can get lost staring into your Egyptian eyes. You look just like the Egyptian figurines that my mom has all around our house on the lamps. I think you are beautiful and smart, the next Condeleeza Rice." Now as flattering as that is, I am starting to notice a precarious trend. The people who have their eye on me are not at all the people that I perceive as the perfect match for myself. Do I have an obligation to give the slightly autistic and short and big headed a fair and indiscriminate chance? Especially since they recognize my worth and tell me time and time again? Are there anti-discrimination dating laws. Or are they challenged just more wishful thinkers than the average bear. I know this is mean, but such is the nature of random websites where one vents about trite concerns. Weigh in on this please. Do we set our own standards or pick from the hand we get dealt? Is there such a thing as too much self confidence? I am about to tell him we can have dinner, because I am distinctly bored with life and who knows what may turn out?

Losing Annette

2006-01-30T00:27:00.000-05:00

Germantown Avenue. She runs through the door of a bar not wearing a coat in the blistering cold. She is thinner than I remembered. I stare. Her hair that used to flow across he shoulders is in two messy cornrows. She is high or drunk or both and I can tell by her stride and the way she doesn't even see me when I am standing on the opposite corner. I am 25 now (quite the woman) and she hasn't seen me since I was 14. I do not speak as she hops into a strange man's car and gives him a kiss. She is like an apparition. It is Christmas Eve. 11 years to the day since I last knew her as my stepmother of 9 years. I pull up the collar on my wool coat. It would only embarrass her for me to shout out her name and tell her what......." Hey Netty, I got outta this city like you always said I would"........" I'm in law school and my future is looking bright." What would she say in return........"Things didn't turn out like I thought and I drink a lot these days and use crack?" So I pass the woman on the street who used to smile in my family photos and comb my hair. On Christmas, she would wrap gifts and put them under the tree for me, then lie in the morning and say Santa Claus had come. But there is no Santa Claus, at least not like he used to be........and really, there is no Annette. I close the door of my car behind me and I don't look back. I would rather remember Santa and Annette like they used to be. When I get back to my dad's house, I never tell him that I've seen her at all.......and life moves on.

Out of Your League?

2006-01-30T00:21:00.000-05:00

Why are some men so confident that they cannot understand who is appropriate for them? I mean let's face it, if you are a short ugly dude with a big head, why are you intensely pursuing tall attractive girls with normal sized heads? Women perceive league a lot more clearly. We look at the man best suited for us. I understand that looks aren't the sole criteria, but geez, there are some things a girl just can't get past.

Things I've Learned In My Twenties

2006-01-26T16:31:00.000-05:00

1. Supporting yourself is more an emotional endeavor than it is a financial one. I didn't know that sanity was just consciously trying to manage feeling like you could lose it at any moment. 2. Love is tucked where you least expected it, amongst the most unusual suspects. 3. Balance in any form is the most necessary part of life, yet the most difficult to achieve. 4. My father loves me from a space that I never knew he had and the support from his unbalanced personality is more lasting and complete than that I receive from the most balanced. 5. Cars keep breaking down and costing more money that you do not have and if you're lucky your legs keep working so that you can walk to pick them up. 6. When you realize you don't sing well, sing louder. If you can't dance, dance harder. If you have all that you want, then want more. 7. Sometimes money gets short and phones get cut off but good friends keep trying until they get you. 8. Metabolisms slow down just as your life speeds up and you must learn to run after that metabolism even though it will prove to be a constant and eternal race. 8. When you feel overwhelmed, you should tell someone so that they can remind you of all that you already know. 9. Diligence is entirely unnatural but the desire to attain it is a part of us innately. 10. I am horrible at projecting my cost of living and my Parents have been phenomenal at pulling me out of holes. 11. My mother is rightfully selfish in her 50's, but always sends me a random care package to show that she has been listening. 12. I owe it to my parents to go back and live in my hometown because when you are an only child of divorced parents, you have two folks who need you to make their family whole on a regular basis. 13. True love is multi-layered and one part alone is insufficient. 14. Openness, vulnerability and tears are strangely rewarding and beautiful. 14. Events that solicit tears occur with no rhyme or reason, the more life experience you get. 15. White people are an interesting and fabulous new segment of society that I should expose myself to. 16. Marriage should be a natural set of events that lead you to only one logical conclusion , not an intention or a destination. 17. There is very little accountability in living alone and it is easy to get buried under a mess when no one is looking. 18. Some unpopular people achieve very popular goals and some popular people achieve nothing at all. 19. Envy is only valuable when you take it by the horns, admit it and overcome it. 20. Friendship is not a list of rules, tasks or obligations, but a consistent balancing of pleasure and pain that gives as much as it takes and never doubts the reason that it stays. 21. Being a good godmother means that in 15 years a grown man will hug me at his high school graduation and thank me for all I've done. 22. Being a good friend means that when I am old and sick, someone will come read to me and comb my hair, and for that I am thankful. 23. Adult acne is God's little way of reminding me that I am not there yet. 24. Despite your dreams and hopes, this right here is your life, either shake it up or die trying. Sadness is the tide, and you are the speedboat, faith is the motor powered on determination. Although the tide is rough, it gets rougher ahead and you are able............

Charm is The Devil

2005-12-06T00:22:00.000-05:00

I have a friend with an infectious smile. Everyone, male and female, wants to be around her. Her hello flirts. The best part about her is she is very accepting of flaws. So the result of her presence is that everyone, male and female, feels comfortable and likes their very best version of themselves when she is around because she seems to like them so much. Over the years however, the very warmth that she is celebrated for has been a source of great criticism. Men are afraid to trust her because her casual kindness seems indiscriminate, how are they to know whether or not they are doing well or since she sees and brings out the great in everyone, then why would any of them be silly enough to believe that they will ever be the only one. So now you get slack for being a sweetheart? Life just isn't fair.

No Clapping in the First Round of The Limbo!

2005-12-05T23:33:00.000-05:00

The first call. Conversation lasts for hours. Remembering to emphasize your best qualities.....Be intriguing, mysterious........make sure that your laugh always sounds cute. Give a little and wait. I called yesterday, so now it is his turn. I sent a text earlier today and haven't heard back........Make dinner, check my phone. ......Study a bit......check my phone........Wash my hair.......check my phone.......Ignoring the fact that the ringer was never turned off you just believe that you might have missed a ring in your relatively small apartment......Then it rings.....smile......snuggle into bed for a couple hours of possibilities.......This could be the one.

Dating is like doing the limbo. The universe holds the bar and you are responsible for adjusting it. The limbo bar starts high. People walk under with ease. NO ONE SHOULD CLAP FOR THEM IN THIS ROUND! Who couldn't walk under a bar that is looking them in the face........I mean if only I could reserve relationship celebration and gossip for the lowest limbo setting. Meaning that with each challenge and step, the limbo bar lowers. He slips under, he stays. Save your clapping for that flexible son of gun who can bend backwards and make it under the lowest bar.
He seems so perfect, what could go wrong?........Answer......Everything! Some use crack, some use heroine, some are addicted to the bottle.....I shoot up on the honeymoon phase. I am not delusional, not quite desperate, highly matter of fact, straight forward and reasonable. But every time I meet some who passes my initial stat and height approval, and can hold a decent and humorous conversation I can't help but match my last name with his and practice saying that I am his wife in the mirror. Despite my knowledge that discretion would make me appear less flighty, I blurt out to every single body I talk to that is remotely close to me that there is someone new in my life, only to feel foolish when they ask me about him two weeks later and the fantasy ice around the flaws has melted leaving behind sharp realities which are now pushing me in the other direction. Waaaaahhhhhh!!!!

Where does this come from? Haven't I learned from the lessons of the past? Everything is great in the beginning. If it wasn't great, then why would we be beginning at all? Duh!!! If things weren't exciting and new then they would quickly fall in line with the other fellas in the missed calls graveyard, never to be returned. After some thought, I can see that I am so used to people falling over in the easy first round of the limbo (ie. can't hold a job, no education, unattractive, uninteresting, contrived self confidence, baby mama drama or all money tied up in multiple child support, polygamy, pretention, homosexuality (unrealized). That when someone talks to me on my level and makes me laugh, well I forget that there are other rounds (sensitivity, challenges, anger, consistency, admiration, commitment, like mindedness, romance and passion). So today I am instituting a new rule - "No Clapping in the first round of the limbo!!!!!" You won't hear me yapping about someone's perfection without a giant limbo disclaimer. Yes people, I see the error in my early enthusiasm. Let it not be said that I am not self evaluative and cautious. Love Ya (Resist the Clap Until the last round!)

How Would You Photograph A Memory? (For D.J.)

2005-11-29T19:39:00.000-05:00

A Memory..........
Year 2001.I woke up one morning at his house and rolled over to find him perched by the window as the rain fell down hard and fast causing the tree limbs to beat his window pane. He looked at me and said "I wish I had a camera." I asked "To photograph the rain?" He said "The rain is beautiful"........"I love the way it looks on the leaves of the trees"....But if I had a camera I'd photograph you"..........."I need to get a camera!"......................Our relationship was like that.......We were friends who filled dead space with astounding moments. We never could name it, but from the moment we first met we were inspired and every time we were together the intense synergy caused us to question, if this is compatibility, then what the fuck was everything before this, mere tolerance?

Within a month he had a professional camera. Within a year he had a portfolio of amazing photographs of moments in his world. Within two years he was a part time commissioned photographer. We knew each other back in college, but I had occasion to see him for a brief time last month. I visited his city. We met in the hotel lobby for a one hour walk to a nearby park that would change my life.......yet again.

On my way back on the plane, I wrote the following:
"Is it easier to be satisfied with the lives we lead if we never revisit the lives we've led."
Photograph.Warm Smile. Infinite Possibilities. Time Frames. Words. Moments. There are no other two like us. Sunlight. Glance that looks through Me. Freedom. Creativity. We look to the sun and see ourselves reflected. With you I am my favorite version of myself. A thinker. A believer, cerebral, spiritual. Saturday Morning and pancakes. You would have helped me climb a mountain. I want us to travel together, like we used to, alone at the window. Make me who I used to be. Who I never was. I Love Your Peace. As the bus drove away I watched you stare into the lake. I want to call out and scream to you "We could have been magic". Time is a mutherfucker. Freedom is uphill. Here you are, A man who throws convention to the wind and follows his heart in small doses each and every day. I Love you because you set me free......Even inside the captivity that I must return to. Thank you for these moments when I can be one with us.........Again. One of the last things he said to me was......."If our time together was a movie, I would watch it over and over again." "Is it easier to be satisfied with the lives we lead if we never revisit the lives we've led."
Before we parted, he prompted me to take some time to write........So I wrote.
Peace and Blessings.

Ahhhhh. White men

2005-11-21T11:17:00.000-05:00

Just some food for thought. Yes, I am a member of two online dating sites. Not as active as of late, but I do check my weekly matches from time to time. My profiles state requirements such as: good listener, bachelor's or professional degree, enjoys outdoors, no kids at home (stated as a negotiable point), 5'10 or above, enjoys quiet evenings at home and must have a good sense of self and purpose. I state that I prefer African American. As of late, I recieve an array of white men who meet my criteria. The black men I do get all have "Some College" next to education, so I assume that my education requirements preclude me from dating most of the black male population online. My primary concern about dating white men is that they won't understand that I have to wrap or roll my hair at night. (Of course I am kidding, although that is a concern I am sure that it is not my primary one.) Thoughts on this interesting phenomenon? In other words, does anyone else feel like they have outgrown the black male population so that your profiles fail to match up? If you have dated white (or other), how is it on the other side? Cost/ Benefit Analysis please.........................................

My Fantasy Husband May Be 40!

2005-11-14T11:50:00.000-05:00

So after ousting two parkers from my boyfriend's spot over last weekend (Ages 26 and 29), a question crossed my mind. Is what I am looking for in a partner wholly unreasonable. If I could make a man, he would be more established than I am, be wise and give good advice, have excellent financial sense and investments (because I suck with money), have primary and secondary sources of income so significant that I could take off easily to have babies and not feel a drop in our standard of living. As a matter of fact, since I am making it up, he would have enough money to invest in my dreams for me. Maybe he would open a small theater company for me where I could train teenagers to put on fabulous Broadway shows and a full service spa where women could get their hair done, buy clothes and natural products and receive confidence counseling......Yup one hell of a dream business...............

Back to the dream man.......He would be at the stage in his career where he would come home early enough for us to have dinner together and he would be so wise that he would be my goto guy for all input from business to hair color. He would inspire me daily to do and be more than I am, while reminding me everyday that he loves me if I stay the same. We would laugh a lot together and hold one another in support during times of sorrow, and even when he doesn't agree with me or understand my point, he would try his best to adjust whatever circumstances caused me frustration because he hates to see me in angst.

Now, does that guy exists in his mid to late 20's? Or does a couple divorces, a couple kids and a million failed relationships teach someone those sort of give and take aspects of a relationship? Most guys I know who are my age still have barbie princess professional dreams that their stepford wife will arrive straight into his arms on her way home from pilates or running her third marathon of the year, to cook steak and potatoes and bake apple pie for dessert. (Meanwhile she will be a doctor who has time to do all that shit and the metabolism to make steak, potatoes and apple pie inconsequential.) Do men wise up to the fact that this girl does not exist after the boredom of dating in their 30's has worn thin?

So perhaps the man that understands that women are human does not develop until he is 40. I may have to test this theory, as much as 40 skeeves me out. But then again, I have had some pretty skeevy experiences with men in their 20's so its worth a go in the name of research.

PRETTY IS AS PRETTY DOES!!!!

2005-11-07T13:08:00.000-05:00

So this morning, I was walking into school behind 3 gentleman. A young lady hopped out of her car wearing a particularly small skirt and revealing a well shaped bottom and perfectly beautiful legs. She coupled her mini skirt with a fitted top and flip of the hair. Now, aside from the fact that this outfit is wholly inappropriate for law school, as soon as we sat down in class, one gentleman approached the other and said did you she that skirt that __________ had on this morning, and the other gentleman (who I greatly respect and love) responded, "She's bad ain't she?" (Bad= fine/ attractive.) But here's the thing, she wasn't "Bad" at all. Yes, she was wearing a short skirt. Yes she had nice legs. Yes her tight shirt accentuated her boobs. BUT her face was hurt and her hair was scraggly, and she did not greet anyone with a kind hello but switched on past absorbing her attention. Plus her clear self confidence issues and misguided sense of self worth are hanging out the back of her skirt. Less is more ladies, less is more. I couldn't help but wonder, is a girl's great body ALL that matters?

This is not an isolated situation. So many girls are touted for their beauty when they are merely fit, but not beautiful. Jesus fellas, what happens when you birth children with the good-body-only girls and their genes do not include their mother's weight training work 5 days a week, but do include her stank condescension and snootiness. Worse still, her ill formed facial features will be transferred to your offspring, but what do you care as long as she has washboard abs?

To top it off, these days having a good body is even an excuse for having a piss poor personality. Take one particular woman who shall remain nameless, who has so long been touted for being beautiful that she clearly views being in her presence as a privilege that she deals out at will. She sees fit to ignore people who have not wronged her in any way and be condescending and bitchy in all of her interactions with them. Yet and still she picks and chooses who to honor with politeness because her pristine friendship is something to be envied and sought after. Sounds like a defunct rerun of the movie "Mean Girls" to me. Shockingly, most men will agree in private circles that she is a bitch, but in her presence, everyone can't help but swoon over the opportunity to be bitched at, ignored, judged or falsely befriended by her. We won't even talk about those rearing to get into her bed, despite their vehement dislike of her. Is it because in secret she is genuinely kind and giving. Nope, she is always an opportunistic, self interested fake ass. But because she has a good body, lots of men folks will take their lumps just for a chance at association I suppose. Looks go a long way.

I even had an asshole suggest to my beautiful, dynamic, brilliant, amazing, friend that she should work on her body so that she can be a dime. Well she is a whole dollar inside and out, but her being thinner would make him feel better. FUCK HIM!!!

Well, I may not have a washboard abs, skinny thighs, or a mini-skirt ready bottom. But I think I am fabulous and gorgeous and my areas of improvement are quite reworkable. I am not suggesting that physical health is not important, but it certainly does not make up for ones other blaring flaws. However, chase after old funny face and super-bitch if your trophy case has a void in it, but I encourage wiser more reasonable choices like a woman who you can talk to, who has your back 100%, who can add to your life more than she takes away, who you can describe as an overall great person, who treats people well, who can cook a mean meal, who you would want to raise kids with, who when you are 80 years old and crusty dusty, you can hold her hand on the front porch and smile. That is the woman that I want to be and I want to be with a man who finds those qualities important. Those are the women I want to be friends with too. Pretty is as pretty does sir!!!!!!! Peace.

THE TRUTH BEHIND BREAK-UP TEARS

2005-11-03T23:29:00.000-05:00

Do Exes always return at some point or another? Is it a compliment or an insult to be dumped and royally embarrassed, when someone comes gravelling back within a couple of months or years having realized the extreme error in their ways? I love how they take the tone that suggests that you should be thrilled, like you are getting the one thing that you always wanted, their dysfunctional ass back on your doorstep for another go-round of the okey doke.

I feel that I am misleading at the end of my relationships. When things end between me and a potential partner, I cry a lot and express how sad I am to see them go. In a way it is like mourning for me and I make sure that I share all that was beautiful in the relationship and all that I hated. When some cocky bastard dumps me, I make sure that he feels really bad. However, it has taken me years to arrive at the truth that break-ups are like tiny deaths for me. I have never gone back, started again, or gave something another go round and I hope I never will. Maybe if they realized I was crying because it was over for good with no do-overs, they would cry too.

2005-11-02T19:11:00.000-05:00

THE GREAT CONDOM COUNT! We need to talk about this! I have this friend who had been dating a guy off and on for several months. She, like so many of us these days, is not committed and finds herself with a less than desirable group of young suitors. The particular guy in question was her sexual partner of choice, however, they'd had a rocky couple of months and she found herself having to make do with long breaks between them seeing one another based on one disagreement or another and career constraints. The other night he returned after being gone for a month and a half and so they made love (like adults do when they reunite). Things went well and she was relieved that he was back in her life because despite her rep as female player of the year, she liked this one a little bit. As they lay gazing into one another's eyes he said the sentence that every young player fears ..................................."THERE WERE MORE CONDOMS THE LAST TIME I WAS HERE" ............................Aaaaaaaaaaah!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now ladies and gents, the great condom count is not a mystery to us relationship veterans. It is a long established principle that you count the number of condoms at your boyfriend's or girlfriend's house after a tryst and count again upon your return. Should there be one less, somebody is gonna have to answer a serious verbal lashing. But is the condom count applicable to off and on relationships? Now the true players know where she made her crucial mistake. You never show your full supply in the first place. One rubber inconspicuously placed in a bed side drawer is more than sufficient. Should you require another, simply excuse yourself and go to your secret stash and return bearing one more. The mistake of revealing the supply is an easy one to make given the configuration of condoms at the time of purchase which come attached to one another in a strip. So the essential step upon purchase is to separate them one by one so that your business as a single lady or man is managed professionally and without any one becoming privy to more information then they are entitled to. This is the age of sexual liberation! Do what you want, but do it smart! Let's all have a moment of silence for my friend who forgot the rules. Don't you make the same mistake.

2005-11-02T10:15:00.000-05:00

PARKED IN MY BOYFRIEND'S SPOT! Props to M-yo for this one. The words were so simple, "You have no time to meet someone great if someone unworthy is always parked in your boyfriend's spot. " I immediately became defensive. I could think of 10,000 reasons why I should continue my practice of allowing unworthy men to park just to pass the time. After all, who would rather be alone while waiting for the real thing to arrive, when you can pass the time with some Average Joe who is either shocked as shit that he gets to date a woman like you, or places little to no value on you at all? If I admit that it is faulty to have someone random parked in my boyfriend's spot then I negate all of the men that I have dated in the past 8 or so years. Am I really ready to admit that I had it all wrong? Jesus, an epiphany!................................Let's back up a few steps. We really must give some examples of this so that it can hit home. Someone is wrongfully parked in your boyfriend's spot if any one of the following scenarios rings true:(1) You know for some blaring reason that you will never "really" be together, but you entertain the antics for any period of time using the excuse "he beats a blank". (2) You are having sex on a routine basis that is not good or fulfilling for you, but keeps him showing up and fulfills your need for company from time to time (and eliminates the mass of leftovers from the dinner that you prepared that you would otherwise have to eat by yourself). (3) You are pregnant by someone all of sudden and you never even liked him. (4) You are entertaining or continuing to date a self proclaimed cheater because he has some positive qualities and you may over time get over your innate desire to be the only one in his life. (5) You are full on, boldly in pursuit of crossing the line with a friend and ruining a friendship forever by making things romantic just because you already know that you can trust him. (6) You have been with the same guy for a long time and are scared that no one will ever love you as much or do as much for you so you hang on because of comfort when you know that there must be someone better out there for you. (7) You avoid the phonecalls of the guy that you are seeing until that once a month night comes where there is absolutely nothing better to do. SAY IT TOGETHER LADIES! "GET OUTTA HERE! YOU ARE PARKED IN MY BOYFRIEND'S SPOT! ....................................Okay so we have identified the unlawful parker, now let's identify this nonexistent boyfriend. Is he perfect? (Nope) Is he devastatingly fine? (If you're lucky, but usually not.) Is he already in your life? (Could be, but how the hell would you have time to notice when you are spending your Friday and Saturday nights entertaining old yip yip.) You see, when M-yo told me this, she also explained that when you are a busy lady, you only have a certain amount of leisure time. When that time is all clogged up with Mr. Wrong, we operate under the delusion that should Mr. Right come along, we would be ready and willing to embrace him into our lives. We assume that we would be able to tell right away and immediately eliminate the unlawful parker and run into the sunset with the man who is perfect for us. But be real, when is the last time you actually did that? ...............This whole convo has brought me to the realization that I need to return to my highschool standard of dating. To be my boyfriend in High School, you had to jump through all kinds of hoops. I had uncomprimisable standards. Had to be 6 feet tall! (This year, I let one 5'9 slip through the cracks.) Had to have a bright future! (Have since dated not one, but two electricians and one Firestone Manager. Yes, he was in charge of the guys who sold tires.) Had to be a hot football player to elevate my social standing! (I don't need to tell you that my hot man barometer must be broken now, because anything goes and I am just too surprised to get a hot one.) ..........I do not mean to imply that I should return to this same set of standards, but I have certainly in my old age gained the dating acumen to know what should and should not come into my life. Now I need to translate that knowledge into standards that bar certain entrants. In order to do that, I have to release the fear of being alone and instead embrace it as time to work on my self and get to a better, healthier, higher, more spiritual and balanced place. If I oust the illegal parkers (for me there are several) and transfer the time that I spend talking to them on the phone and hanging out with them into, reading, exercising, praying, singing, developing relationships with friends that will last forever, then imagine who I'll be when my perfect match shows up.

Just some food for thought! I am not claiming to be above this. I will probably spend time with Mr. Mediocre tomorrow. Go through your period of denial and keep him around and then call me when you too arrive at this epiphany, because I am sure that it is coming for all of us. See ya on the other side. Thanks again M-yo.

WOULD WE ALL BE HAPPIER IN COSTUME?

2005-11-01T12:13:00.000-05:00

Check my email this morning and receive a fabulous picture of my 3 year old God Son in his Halloween costume. He is so pleased with the world. His smile lit up my computer screen like sunshine, but I couldn't help but wonder, would we all be happier in costumes?

Arguably, most people that I know are purely dissatisfied with their real lives at this juncture. I have not met the twenty something year old that says that they have it all figured out and everything is as it should be. To top it off, we have trouble with imagination and mental freedom. If I could wear a costume who would I be? In whose guise could I find freedom from the stressors of my existence. I am a little envious of my godson's joy in his buzz lightyear costume as he obviously feels that he could fly straight "To infinity and beyond". Where would I find that?

The challenge is this, in order to chose a costume that makes me feel amazing, I would need to know first who I would like to be. Hence, all of us twenty somethings can't properly costume ourselves because we can't see our dreams clearly anymore. Perhaps the 3-year-olds have it all straight when they choose superpowered idols that can do amazing things that aren't even possible. We no longer expect to be able to do anything amazing, but instead to do something practical enough and let's face it, practical enough costumes just aren't worth a shit.

And another problem would be picking which superpowers I would like to have because as adults we are totally greedy. (1) I would have the power to make people disappear because clearly I cannot, despite my desires to do so, scream and cry when certain people come around that I do not wish to be subjected to like my godson can (ignoring the adult lesson that tolerance teaches one patience). (2) I would have the power to rewind time and make things happen differently (completely ignoring the damn adult lesson that we learn from our mistakes). (3) I would have the power to fly ( ignoring that flying would preclude me from the little exercise I get in a day walking around and make me instantly 400 lbs) . (4) I would have the power to freeze moments and think them through (ignoring the knowledge that my first instinct is usually the correct one).

There is a pattern here. I am too reasonable for my own fantasies, too practical to even imagine a world where I am in complete control. But I dream of being Buzz Lightyear and feeling the joy of knowing that I could do absolutely anything, but I cannot seem to find a costume big enough. The only costumes made in adult size are witches, monsters, naughty nurses and fallen angels and let's face it, when we put those on, are they really costumes at all?

I guess we cannot escape who we have become, but if you are like me, you will try your very best to carve out a spot in your day to be 3 years old again and for that brief time imagine the possibilities. "To Infinity and Beyond!"