Ain’t I A Woman? December 15, 2008

It’s going to be a long week. I can see it now. I’m so ready to go and I have three hours left. It’s supposed to ice up or snow tonight. The kids are out of school early, so I guess that’s a dead giveaway.

I really need to get on it. I’m about to move forward with my pre-2009 honesty campaign. I mean, this shit is crazy. I was at a sorority function the other night and I thought to myself, “Sometimes I feel less than a woman.” Crazy, right? Let me explain.

I’m damn-near 30 and I have not experienced some things or do some things that I think a woman should do. Sure, I have the feelings of a woman. I want to be in the prescence of a man. I want to feel loved and cared for and respected. I work a full-time job and have many responsibilities. Yet, these three things are going to blow your mind:

I’ve never been in a long-term, sustaining relationship: I’m sure I know how to take care of a man, but I’ve never really had to. I’m not used to having a man around 24/7, so I guess I’m kind of clueless. I usually just date and move on. I’m not saying that womanhood is dependent on being with a man. Hellz no.  This one is kind of hard to explain, so I’ll just leave it alone.

I don’t cook: If you’re having a party, most likely I’m bringing the drinks or the bread (if you need any). Spinach dip? Nope. Hot wings? Nah. Dressing? Uh-uh. I’m not saying I can’t cook, but I’m saying that I don’t. I don’t care to cook for myself, much less anyone else. I never cultivated those homemaker skills. I would much rather marry a man who cooks. But it still seems that I should be the one doing it. However, I can clean like no other! From top to bottom. Guess that doesn’t take a genius though.

I don’t have children: Keep in mind that I know I’m not ready for nor want children at this time. But still…

That’s about it. Maybe it’s my nearing 30 and being single and childess, which a GREAT thing actually. Everything happens in its own time. Especially the cooking!

The Advice December 4, 2008

Elusive. That’s the word she used to describe him. Elusive means unable to be caught or isolated. As much as it hurts admit it, she was dead-on.

“She” is my mother, Knower of All. For the first time, I told her about him last year around this time. She told me I was in love with him. Just by looking at me, she could tell. I don’t think in about three years, I’d even admitted it to myself, let alone anyone else. So a year later (today), she calls me at work and asks me why am I down in the dumps. I didn’t think she noticed, but who am I kidding? She knows everything. I am down in the dumps, but I didn’t want her to know that, so I perked up and said, “I’m not down. I’m fine.” I know it sounds so convincing, right? She asks if I saw him again after Friday. I tell her the truth for once and say no. There was no need to. Friday was enough.

Out of nowhere, she has the talk that I guess I’ve been wondering all my life who it would be about and when it would happen. The “You-Don’t-Need-Him” talk.

“You gotta let that boy go. You will pass by the man God will send you because you can’t let him go.”

Tears began to run down my face because I know it’s true, but for some reason it means so much more coming from her. I simply say, “I know.”

She goes on to say we’re in two different places and the reason why I want him is because I can’t have him. But, “don’t fool around and get him, hear?” I know what she means when she says that. Perhaps she’s speaking from experience this time. I’m trying, oh so hard, to take heed to the advice she’s giving me.

But it’s hard, even though I know she’s right.

Even in my wildest dreams, I can’t see us being together. Not in “real life”. He and I both would have to make some major life changes. That is SO not happening. So, I have to ask myself what is it that makes me fall back into this hole again and again? She must be thinking the same thing because she also asks what it is about him that I can’t shake. I don’t know! If I did, I wouldn’t have this problem.

“God won’t let you have him, that’s why you can never get to him. If it’s supposed to be, he’ll come to you.”

Silence. I was fighting back more tears. Thank God this was over the phone, instead of in person. I probably would have broken all the way down.

In traditional fashion, I say, “Okay” and we soon hang up.

Reality check.

Knocked Off My Game December 1, 2008

Ask and ye shall receive. Yep, I believe in that saying. Sometimes even if it’s not good for us in the long run, we get it anyway. Because we wanted it and asked for it.

I saw him this weekend. I knew in my heart that I would. And every time I do, I promise myself that things will be different. That either I will be mad as hell like I should be whenever he pops back into my life or I will tell him that I’m in love with him. Or that after we do our thing, I’ll be okay. Not want to talk to him. Maybe this time he will stay in my life, be consistent and do what I think should be done when you supposedly really care about someone. I will tear down some of these walls that he contributed to help me build because for once I want to really be myself. Not be afraid of love and affection. Be able to be wide open. How is it possible that the very person who caused me to be this way is the one I want to change for? Even when he doesn’t change for me?

It’s not fair. But life isn’t fair.

Right now I’m stuck between hating the choices I made this weekend, but loving the experience and the time we spent. He is a work in progress, but the progress is too slow for me. I’m finally getting sick of this soap opera we’ve been playing in for so long. And it hurts surprisingly. I still want him in my life. Some parts of him. But I need all or nothing.

When he kissed me it felt like the first time we kissed. Indescribable. His touch and how gentle he is with me. Unparalleled.

What what about everyting else though?

So now for the first time in my life, I think I am lovesick. How crazy is that? I don’t really want to eat. All I want to do is sleep and not think about him. I think it’s completely unfair how you can feel a way about someone without them even knowing it.

This has to stop and I’m the only person who can stop it.

The Story of the Godmother November 13, 2008

There’s a woman I know who is nearly sixty years old (if not already). I call her Godmother. She has never been married and has no children. She is one of the most giving people you ever want to meet. She would give you her last. So, tell me, how is that she is alone? How fulfilling is her life without a true love and/or children? I see her often and that’s always the thought I have. Word is that she was always so picky when it came to men. She could never be satisfied, so that left her high and dry. What a life.

I pray to God often that that’s not my destiny.

I was having a conversation with my Mother (also known as MAMA) about relationships or the lack thereof. Believe me, it’s her favorite topic and my least favorite because there’s never SHIT going on in that department. It doesn’t matter exactly what was said so much as what I was thinking.

I have made some dumb-ass decisions when it comes to guys. Before I always said that I liked the wrong guys. You know, the slick, ladies man, half-gentleman/half-thug, etc. Really, the deal is that something of significance could have come about with all those guys, but I didn’t play the right cards. I could have been more upfront, more aggressive, more supportive, more open. I guess hindsight is 20/20, but can I atleast have 40/20 at that very moment?

Now I’m not saying that those failed relationships were all on me. They did some dirt, too. And sometimes, my gut was just telling me to run the other way (I can’t argue with my intuition, can I?)! However, it’s just time to grow up. This is life and it should always progress, never stay the same.

I can’t end up like the Godmother.

Good Lookin’ Out, America November 13, 2008

If you don’t know by now…we have a new president. Barack Hussein Obama. And he just happens to be black. YES! I could write so much more on this. How I’m semi-obsessed with his family and how the media will have a field day trying to scruntize everything he will do as the Prez. Or how I’ve already made plans and flight arrangements to be in DC for the Inauguration on January 20. Let’s keep our fingers crossed about those tickets to get INTO the Inauguration.

Anyway, I just had to post on the historic moment and say how much it means to me and all of us of all colors, creeds and cultures.

Good job, America!

………….. November 3, 2008

I do NOT like feeling like this. I don’t know what’s worse… feeling bad emotionally or physically. It’s officially Daylight Savings Time, so I got an extra hour of sleep. It didn’t feel that way because I was in and out of sleep all night. I am getting sick!

I’m on my second dose of Theraflu and second dose of bootlegged Midol from Wal-Mart because guess what??? I’m on my period, too! My entire body is in some type of pain or fatigue. My head, back, legs. I’m hot, but I’m cold.

I was going to write some more, but I think I’ll go to bed, instead. AGAIN.

One last thing: Get your patooty up and vote on Tuesday. No matter how long the wait!

Daylight Savings Time Thoughts November 3, 2008

It’s happening. AGAIN. It’s November. There’s a feeling in the air that makes me think of you. At certain times of the year, it seems like my brain is programmed to focus on you and this is one of them. A time when the air gets crisp and cold. The nights are clear. The feeling I have, I can’t even describe it. It’s not like we met during this time. We weren’t together for the first time during this season. It’s just something in the air. I’d hoped that I’d be over this by now. Time is past due. Wayyy past due. But I simply can’t help but to think of you.

Static October 30, 2008

Static: showing little or no change: a static concept; a static relationship.

I am creative with words. I am creative with the words I say. But I am not a creative person. Never have been, quite possibly never will be. I’ve finally accepted that. I’d like to do something about it, but I don’t know what. Because I’m not creative enough to think of anything.

When I was in advertising and public relations, I grew very tired of my job because I felt like I was doing the same thing over and over. When it came to writing stories, flyer and brochure layouts, I think I sucked. I’m not visually creative at all. Even when I was in elementary school, my science project board was as as simple as you could get. Straight lines, borders and if I really wanted to get jazzy, I’d slant my letters. That’s about all I could imagine doing. Great writer, but what I was writing about was not inspiring (I guess I shouldn’t have expected it to be–it’s work!) I used to blame it on the industry, rather than the sector. That writing about homelessness and the lack of food was what was really draining my creativity.

Reality has now sunk in. Currently, I moderate panels and faciliate presentations for employers. Week after week, granted we receive new updates on the industry, I regurgitate the same info over and over and over again. That’s not the problem though. Recently, my supervisor, who is older than me, took on one of my classes since my workload has tripled. She comes back with stories on how “awesome” and “great” her classes were. She’s getting great feedback from participants like you wouldn’t believe.

So that leaves me thinking, “What the hell am I doing wrong?” My classes are good, but I wouldn’t call home about them (It takes a lot to get me excited anyway). She’s playing music, dancing and all sorts of creative little things to make the class fun. Whereas, I’ve done the class so many, many times, right now, I need to recharge. The only thing I’m focused on is getting the class DONE so I can move on. I have lost all interest in doing the “song and dance act” , hence my lack of creativity.

I’m just going through the motions. I know we all get burnt out from time to time, but this happens often. Every once and awhile, I get this bug that this job really isn’t for me. I need to get back on the job hunt or atleast get back in my field in which I have TWO degrees and make something happen.

Maybe it’s a seasonal thing with me.

PMS Blame Game October 27, 2008

Sometimes I just want to blame it all on PMS. The fact that sometimes I feel “some kind of way” that would make me seem SELFISH. The fact that sometimes, I actually want to be irritated about something.

Let me give you an example. These days I’ve been thinking back to the past and wondering how I can always invest so much time and energy into other people and their lives. Listening to how they feel, what’s wrong with them, helping them do whatever is needed to fulfill their dreams, going to their birthday gatherings, weddings, baby showers, parties and what not. How much of that do I get in return? Minus the weddings (because I’m single) and the baby showers (they can keep those for now).

Last year, my so-called pre-resolution was to close 2007 with the truth and nothing but the truth. To tell people “NO” or “You’re going to have to wait.” Or maybe, “You got me FUCKED UP!”

Needless to say, I didn’t. And here I am, right back to the same thing. Sometimes I get tired of people ___________. Period. You can fill in the blank on your own.

The bad part about it is…I feel bad or less of a good person for feeling all honory and attitudinal about whatever it is I’m feeling…

So that’s why I just want to blame it all on PMS when really, forreal foreal forreal…it’s just how I feel.

And I shouldn’t have to make up excuses or apologize for that.

The Chase October 6, 2008

I wanted you and I don’t even know why. Maybe it was because you wanted me first. Or maybe because I knew I couldn’t (or shouldn’t) have you. You were with someone else and I respected that and her. Or maybe because when I first saw you, you made wonder who you were. Why did everyone else know you and not me? Or it could be your swagger that was undeniable, even though you looks, to some, were second rate. Maybe it was the stories I heard about you. You were the bad boy. But to me you were always all good. Sweet, even.

You wanted me and you chased me. Just the way I like it. Our flirting sessions were magnetic. It was all I could do since I couldn’t have you. Even when we both tried to play the cool role, I couldn’t help but look over to see you, already knowing that you were staring at me. And when you parted with her, the chase picked a few notches. I started to dance with you at parties in front of people who knew me and knew her, too. You could twist and turn me on that dance floor, as if we belonged together. There was something between us–chemistry– that is inexplicable, even to this day.

On that May spring night, you told me you had to have me.  We’d been playing around for far too long and it was “inevitable” that we would be together. I gave it a shot, thinking about dating you. Only because I was moving on to another phase of my life. I couldn’t lie and say that I didn’t like you. I was transparent.

I stayed with you for a night. Thinking back on it now, it doesn’t even seem real. There was no “two becoming oneness” going on. You were a perfect gentleman. I’m too old now to wonder if that was part of your game. Game or not, it was what I needed at that time. For the first time in three years of The Chase, we actually talked. All bullshit and harmless flirting aside. No distractions. Just you and me.

A lot of questions that I had about you (that I didn’t want to ask anyone else) were answered. You told me your attraction to me was beyond physical. What you liked about me was that I exuded confidence and sexiness without even trying. Those were the same things I like about you. We watched movies and laughed. You weren’t the asshole I saw everyday anymore. You seemed kinda nervous. Around me? It should’ve been the other way around. You were just being you.

And when I protested you holding me because I knew it would feel too good, you didn’t get upset about it. You just laid there with me and we fell asleep together. Over in the night, I realized that you wrapped your arms around me anyway. And that was fine with me.

The sun shined vibrantly through your bedroom window blinds alerting us to the morning. It’s something about a person being the first thing you see in the morning. Your arms were still around me and I didn’t want you to let go. I knew then that from that moment on, things would never be the same. But they would have to be.

Years have passed and though not nearly as often as then, The Chase is still there. And just as often as then, I wonder if I will ever let you catch me.