As I write this I am so emotionally spent I cant see straight. I could write a book on all the feelings I've had through out this election but it still wouldn't adequately convey my thoughts. More than anything else I am so proud to be able to share this historic moment with my grandma who never thought she would live to see this day But my heart hurts that his own grandma didn't live to see it herself.
Tonight..My hope for humanity has been restored and I can now say I am proud to be a American!!
I am also one step closer to my private special alone time with Barack in the Lincoln room... Think I can't?
Yeah yeah...So I'm celebrating my birthday today woo hoo! But more importantly I'm also celebrating the 75th birthday of my beautiful abuela. Isn't she a fox? I just hope I am able to not only make it to 75 but do it with as much grace and love for her family as she has. Love ya Gwennie!
And for all you people that get hot over linguistics there is even more reason to celebrate. Today is Dictionary Day!! It commemorates the birthday of American lexicographer Noah Webster, born October 16, 1758.
So go ape shyt over a game of scrabble today in honor of ole' Noah and while you're at it have a drink for Gwennie and her granddaughter.
I just wanted to thank all my friends for all the prayers and well wishes I received regarding my brother. For those of you that did not know he was injured when his Humvee hit a roadside bomb last week. Cut, bruised and left with a concussion we are beyond blessed to have him with us.
Three of his "brothers" were killed in the incident. Sgt. 1st Class Jamie S. Nicholas, and Sgt. 1st Class Gary J. Vasquez(both pictured right next to Amon at the far left) and Captain Ritchie Cliff.
For their families I send my deepest condolences. These are the times that makes me the most vulnerable and disenchanted with the polices of our military and government as a whole. How many more people have to die? As my friend Jay told me the only thing we can do is VOTE. So please be sure to make your voice heard and vote for the one person that will get our troops home. I really dont want to write any more posts about this.
the not so quiet footsteps of the past
try to drown out my ever so hopeful voice
yet and still
im taking in all of your delayed devotion
like some elixir of the gods
promising to cure all that ails me
i continue to ask myself
what was the worst part of my disease?
pretending
like you didn't leave me for dead
or pretending
like i didn't let you
as i overestimate my ability to forget
your own redemption
may very well be delayed
as i remain frayed
at the ends
BUT STILL INTACT
and devoted
to the possibilities
Chick1 [10:38 P.M.]: don't you have thin, white-girl lips Chick1 [10:38 P.M.]: ? CHICK2 [10:39 P.M.]:who me???? Chick1 [10:39 P.M.]:lol Chick1 [10:39 P.M.]:yes, sort of CHICK2 [10:39 P.M.]:ive been told that..yes CHICK2 [10:39 P.M.]:lol Chick1 [10:39 P.M.]:today when i went to sephora, they told me i qualified for my free gift b/c i had spent 100 bucks Chick1 [10:39 P.M.]: and one of my free gifts was some damn Lip Plumper Chick1 [10:40 P.M.]: and i was like "what the hell am i gonna do with this" CHICK2 [10:40 P.M.]:rofl!! Chick1 [10:40 P.M.]:so the girl was like, just use it as a lip gloss Chick1 [10:40 P.M.]:now isn't that racist? CHICK2 [10:40 P.M.]:basically Chick1 [10:40 P.M.]:so, i was gonna find a white girl on the metro with no lips and hand it to her Chick1 [10:40 P.M.]: but i'll just give it to you...my black friend with white features Chick1 [10:40 P.M.]:lol CHICK2 [10:41 P.M.]:yes..i will gladly plump my lips up.. CHICK2 [10:42 P.M.]:although fekade says i have the best lips for any race Chick1 [10:43 P.M.]:really...well, that's cuz he's african CHICK2 [10:43 P.M.]:but i have never gotten over my great grandfather giving me the name "perch mouth" like the fish??!?? he always called me that when i was little..i dont even think he knew my name CHICK2 [10:43 P.M.]:and all africans have big lips?? You're the damn racist!!
BTW it works. My lips have never been bigger...muahz!
Well... well... well... who would have thought I still would be doing this after my first post a year ago?
Not me!! But here I am 107 posts later. And while I can be pretty lazy with the timing of my entries and I probably won’t win any literary awards, I do think blogging has challenged me to be more introspective and has given me the creative outlet I so desperately needed.
More so than anything I am grateful for the chance to be a part of my community of talented blogger friends (Ginger, Lex, Jay, Nichole, Kenn and Rashad) who have made this site a much cheaper form of therapy. You “get” me and thank you for that.So for you and the other 3 people that read this nonsense do me a favor and let me know what some of your favorite posts were this year.
And please continue to comment. This is after all a purely ego driven endeavor so I need to know you are out there. And that you like me….you really really like me.
The site has lots of different combinations for hair, face features and clothes. I was able to get pretty close to my look even down to the "beauty mark" on my cheek. I think I would look kinda hot in a alternative cartoon universe. What do you think? Be sure to send me yours.
Happy Birthday to you Amon! Wow 25 already?? Seems like yesterday you were sucking your thumb and kicking unsuspecting bystanders in the shin.
And while you may be 7000 miles away from us now please know that you are never far from our hearts. A bridge over trouble waters for you we will be..today and always.
Let's hope the Taliban gives you a break today. xoxox
WTF??!!?? Was there a shortage of available talent in heaven or something? My heartfelt condolences and prayers go out to the families of Bernie Mac and Issac Hayes. Both were great talents in their own right.
How sad and ironic is it that they were in the process of filming a movie together with Samuel Jackson. Let's hope we don't lose him too. :(
So, I was having a conversation with one of my best girlfriends in the whole wide world about what else? Relationships!!! and how her on again/off again man of 14 years has finally agreed to really be ON. After years of being together, breaking up, being with other people and the like she finally said enough was enough. She gave him a final ultimatum to put up or shut up. Now, it goes without saying that this is a gorgeous and smart woman we are talking about here and her BF is a highly intelligent, seemingly thoughtful man in his mid 30s. Both great catches in their own right. But for him there were always a myriad of excuses in the past as to why he couldn’t fully commit to marriage. And for her I guess there was only one real excuse as to why she didn’t totally erase him from her memory bank forever after year 4. She loved him.
I was then reminded of a birthday party I went to some months back and in attendance were a varied group of singles and couples mostly in some stage of their 30’s. Inevitably, after many libations and specifically for me some of the strongest sangria I’ve ever had, the conversation turned to dating and relationships. If I remember correctly, it started out with us girls discussing some of my dating mishaps and my friend was expounding on her very funny and true theories on men, especially men in their late 30’s. "Sperm Shooters" are what she calls them. “Sperm Shooters” are men who decide after years and years of sowing oats that it’s time to finally “settle down” and spread their seeds in whatever lucky woman he happens to be currently dating, sleeping with or ordering a double shot mocha latte from. Her definition received roaring laughter from those in ear shot and got the attention of a one “Barber” who was sitting nearby.
Barber was a decent looking man in his 50s who seemed to exude some sort of wisdom (too much sangria+ silliness= old man exuding wisdom), which got my inquisitive mind to wonder. When did he become a “sperm shooter”? I assumed that not only would tell me he had been happily married for 20 years but he would graciously bless me with all the secrets to not only a blissful union but perhaps finding the right man for myself. Instead, we all let out an audible gasp when he said that he not only has never been married but has been in 8 year relationship and is just now getting to the point where he could “possibly” be ready for marriage. WTF! So of course we go into full “subject dissect” mode to find out what gives.
***Disclaimer: by no means do I think marriage is the end all be all of everyone’s existence. And if two people agree that they do not need a legally binding, government sanctioned contract to exist then more power to them.
After a little more digging we find out this is not the case. Barber’s 39 year old girlfriend was pretty ready from jump to be married and after who knows how much drama had finally given an ultimatum to put up or shut up. Of course the question the four women surrounding him in awe (and a little bit of pity) had was HOW LONG DOES IT TAKE TO KNOW YOU LOVE SOMEONE????
He starts to sweat as he searches for the words. He goes on and on about while he loves her and always has there are things a man needs to do mentally to be ready for such things. He even pulled the race card (his girlfriend is white) by telling us that a black man has the added pressures of the world…blah blah blah... and sometimes these things take time. Really? You don’t say?
So I ask him how long should a woman be ready to wait for a man. He says “forever if she loves him”. My sangria buzz was almost non-existent by this point. I shake my head at the thought of waiting for someone for 8 years, 14 years or even 2 years at this point. Maybe I’m naive and a bit quixotic but I feel like four full seasons (summertime can be a doozy) is all you need to see if two people have what it takes to love each other enough to know they are at least willing to make it a go. Am I wrong?
As far as I’m concerned Common said it best. “It don’t take a whole day to recognize sunshine”
For those of you that are semi-obsessed with cheesecake like me (pumpkin..oh how i love ya), you will be happy to know that today is National Cheesecake Day! And in celebration of their 30 years on this planet The Cheesecake Factory is selling all cheesecake slices for the 1978 price of $1.50! Can't beat that. I'll be heading down to the Clarendon location at some point today.
And so you have dragged me here
Only to abandon me???
Happy in my own existence
I didn't ask to come
But now it is clear
You leave me neither water nor light
Only the ability to hear
the ever so faint sounds
Of your laughter.
It's 10:20 p.m. I'm walking thru the station on my way home.
stalkerguy:Excuse me miss..don't I know you? me: no.
(I start picking up my pace down the escalator. And so does he.)
stalkerguy: Hey, wait I do know you. I never forget a beautiful face. We met here before. I gave you my number. you never called. me: No, you forced your card on me and I told you then that I wasn't interested. Then you stared me down on the train. I'm still not interested. So leave me alone..please.
(I walk further down the platform nervously awaiting the train. He follows.)
stalkerguy:Hey, I was just being friendly BITCH! Maybe you should try it sometime.
(I swallow the progressing anger and fear I'm feeling inside as I try to ignore him and fiddle with my ipod. There are just a few people around. They look more amused than concerned. I can hear the train coming thru the tunnel. And not soon enough.)
stalkerguy: It's not like I wont see you again.
(Shivers go up and down my spine when he says that. A few moments later I hurry on the train hoping he wont follow)
So I went to see The Dark Knight last night. I don't normally get involved in blockbuster first night madness. Well except for Sex and the City. But I was coerced into going. I haven't experienced anything like the juggernaut that is this movie. The lines were around the corner. People were pushing for available seats and acting straight foolish. Despite the insanity I was pleasantly surprised at how good it was. Award winning? Nah. But entertaining nonetheless. I think Heath would be proud.
Wow. What a week.I’ve had the emotional sensations equivalent of being squashed like a bug.But like anything else you dust yourself off, keep your head up and add a lil more hair to the voodoo dolls. To clear my head I decided to take a much needed day off to visit with my fabulous cousin Lisa who was in town from NYC.
With only a couple hours to hang we went to lunch and caught up on our family, careers, men and the like. I’ve always admired Lisa, even as a little girl. I love that she travels to foreign countries by herself,has turned into this quintessential stylish but tough new yorker while still maintaining herL.A. joie de vivre and "valley gurl" accent.
On a whim we went to visit the African American Civil War museum on U Street and I’m so glad we did.Just so happen that this week was the 10th Anniversary Celebration of the Unveiling of the Spirit of Freedom Memorial, designed by sculptor, Ed Hamilton. It’s now a national monument located at 10th & U Streets, NW, Washington, DC.The memorial is also surrounded by a Wall of Honor which list the names of 209,145 troops who served in the “United States Colored Troops” during the Civil War.
We also checked out the museum a couple blocks away, located at 12th and U Street, and was met by the museum’s Curator and Assistant Director, Hari Jones.Mr. Jones was a passionate, engaging and articulate speaker.He spoke on the inaccuracies of what we all know as Juneteenth. The term is a contraction for June 19th, the date in 1865 when Major General Gordon Granger landed at Galveston, Texas, and announced that slavery in that former Confederate state had ended and that all African Americans were free.Despite the fact that Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation became official January 1, 1863.The popular belief was that African Americans not only did very little to ensure their own freedom but didn’t have the wherewithal to know they were actually freed until over two years later. The reality is that the Proclamation didn’t really free any slaves immediately but did in fact open the doors for over 200,000 black soldiers to join the military and help to courageously earn their own freedom.
In any case we learned agreat deal yesterday about our history and each other and it made me feel so very grateful for the daily freedoms we all take for granted.It was a good day.I needed that.
You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me
Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land.
if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine
waiting for you
is reminiscent
of watching
a old black and white movie
pretending
its in technicolor
pretending
i haven't seen this ending
a hundred times before
pretending
it hadn't made me cry
every time
Right under my feet there's air made of bricks
Pulls me down turns me weak for you
I find myself repeating like a broken tune
And I'm forever excusing your intentions
And I give in to my pretendings
Which forgive you each time
Without me knowing
They melt my heart to stone
And I hear your words that I made up
You say my name like there could be an us
I best tidy up my head I'm the only one in love
I'm the only one in love
Each and every time I turn around to leave
I feel my heart begin to burst and bleed
So desperately I try to link it with my head
But instead I fall back to my knees
As you tear your way right through me
I forgive you once again
Without me knowing
You've burnt my heart to stone
And I hear your words that I made up
You say my name like there could be an us
I best tidy up my head I'm the only one in love
I'm the only one in love
Why do you steal my hand
Whenever I'm standing my own ground
You build me up, then leave me dead
Well I hear your words you made up
So I say your name like there could be an us
I best tidy up my head I'm the only one in love
I'm the only one in love
Just when I was busy hating the humdrum existence that is my job, this man reminded me that things could be a lot worse. I'm sure this unsuspecting fellow didn't appreciate me snapping shots of him washing my office windows but that's what the "easily amused" do.
I found out that window cleaners on average make about $18,790 a year. In my mind that amount of money is not worth potentially losing your life for. I guess I'm pretty lucky that my biggest work injury risk is a severe paper cut.
My sister n' law has gotten her visa approved and is on her way home from Mexico as I type this!!!! I can't thank you guys enough for the letters, well wishes and prayers you sent our way. There wouldn't have been a happy ending with out them!!!!
And since we are on the subject of feet I will confess a long time concern regarding my own.As the previous post’s pledge #10 clearly states: one shall not let one's friend wear sandals with creepy feet. So I'm counting on you all to tell me the truth. I personally do not think my toes look like fingers butjust the other day someone at work mentioned how long my toes were and I felt a old twinge of childhood insecurity creep up.
It all started several years ago with my uncle Marcus telling me that I had flintstone feet and there was something extremely weird about my 2nd toe being longer than my big toe.He unmercifully cracked on me every time I had on sandals.And since then I've had several people make jokes about my feet.
"I bet you can type 90 wpm....with your feet" "When you are driving do you talk on the phone and use your feet to steer?"
And my all time favorite joke was when my ex would grab my ankles and ask me to "high five" him.
Now of course when I go to get pedicures the nice Asian lady always tells me I have pretty feet and hands like royalty.And of course I believe her even though there was that time she held up my foot to show the lady next to her, said something in Korean and started laughing.In my mind I assumed she was laughing with the joy one gets with seeing something so extraordinarily beautiful. OK..maybe not.
But the point is so what? After many years of closed toe summers I finally decided that I am completely happy with my finger-toes.If for no other reason than to have extra digits to type this here blog.
It's officially summertime in the city so I figured I'd post a favorite pledge of mine. So my sisters, PLEASE, raise your big toes and repeat after me below...
As a member of the Cute Girl Sisterhood, I pledge to follow the Rules when wearing sandals and other open-toe shoes:
1) I promise to always wear sandals that fit. My toes will not hang over and touch the ground, nor will my heels spill over the backs. And the sides and tops of my feet will not pudge out between the straps.
2) I will go polish-free or vow to keep the polish fresh, intact and chip-free.
3) I will not cheat and just touch up my big toe.
4) I will sand down any mounds of skin before they turn hard and yellow.
5) I will shave the hairs off my big toe.
6) I won't wear pantyhose even if my misinformed girlfriend, coworker, mother, sister tells me the toe seam really will stay under my toes if I tuck it there. If a strap breaks, I won't duct-tape, pin, glue or tuck it back into place hoping it will stay put. I will get my shoe fixed or toss it.
7) I will not live in corn denial; rather I will lean on my good friend Dr. Scholl's if my feet need him.
8) I will resist the urge to buy jelly shoes at Payless for the low, low price of $4.99 even if my feet are small enough to fit into the kids' sizes. This is out of concern fo r my safety, and the safety of others. No one can walk properly when standing in a pool of sweat and I would hate to take someone down with me as I fall and break my ankle.
9) I will take my toe ring off toward the end of the day if my toes swell and begin to look like Vienna sausages.
10) I will be brutally honest with my girlfriend/sister/coworker when she asks me if her feet are too ugly to wear sandals. Someone has to tell her that her toes are as long as my fingers and no sandal makes creepy feet look good.
11) I will promise if I wear flip flops that I will ensure that they actually flip and flop, making the correct noise while walking and I will swear NOT to slide or drag my feet while wearing them. I will promise to go to my local nail salon at least once per season and have a real pedicure (they are about $15 or $20 and worth EVERY penny).
12) I will promise to throw away any white/off-white sandals that show sign s of wear... nothing is tackier than dirty white sandals.
So I’m back from a little creative slump in the blogging department. That’s not to say there hasn't been any interesting things happening in my life. It's actually more of the contrary but I just haven’t had the energy to put those thoughts out to the world.
For those of you that may not know I have been pretty busy helping my sister n’ law Claudia get back in the country from Mexico. She has been detained there for several weeks with visa issues. Basically staying with strangers, she is in a small town outside of Guadalajara alone, away from her babies and those that love her most.
Until all of this happened I must say I was extremely ignorant of the immigration laws and all the political poppycock that goes along with it, but I'm quickly learning. I wont go into alot of detail but I will say that the laws and the people enforcing them seem to be extremely discriminatory against black and brown folks.
She went down there voluntarily to resolve a situation her parents should have taken care of when they brought her to this country as a baby. Married to my brother for almost seven years you would think she would have no problems becoming a US citizen but things have not turned out so easy.
The good news? Through contacts at the US Consulate’s office she was able to get an earlier visa appointment then her scheduled August 23rd date.
The bad news? They can still deny her re-entry and ban her for ten years. In the meantime I’ve been asking friends and family to write letters on her behalf pleading for her re-entry. I have been so very touched by the response and the concern I've received so far. You never really realize how big your circle is until you start to reach out and touch the sides.
So I ask to please keep the prayers coming for her July 7th appointment. And I’ll get back to trying to post on a regular basis.
I want to shoot people that carry on lengthy slap your knee conversations with Bus drivers. Bus drivers who need to be concentrating on getting me to my destination safely.
And while we are talking about Bus drivers. I want to shoot the driver on the route b22 bus. She has been taking too many liberties with my life lately. With her precarious turns on ramp exits and her speeding across lanes on the freeway... she makes me crazy nervous.
She obviously can't be trusted to make superior decisions as she is a black woman who wears a white wig and fake white eyelashes. Where they do that at? I bet you a mojito her government name is Betty but she goes by Chantal or Diamond or some other signifier ghetto people quantify as unique and worldly. All that aside I'm sure there are plenty of people that will miss her if she were gone so let's hope she starts driving with some caution. Otherwise, I might have to turn her pretty little wig.. red.
I just wanted to take a moment of silence to pay respects to the cat formerly known as “Kaiser with testicles”.
As of today He is now and forever more known as “Mr. Sassy pants no balls” to you. I finally broke down and got him fixed. I was kind of hesitant on getting it done because contrary to popular belief (Jay) I do not take extreme pleasure in busting balls. I’d much rather take pleasure in other ball related activities (get your mind out the gutter Rashad) like Badminton.
But I digress.
I had no choice but to fix the lil fella because he was turning into a nasty lust bucket and my feet were the unfortunate objects of his desire. Every night, at some time between the hours of 1-5 am he would start molesting them...yeah, I know...gross. Normally, I would welcome a lil humping action in my boudoir but this is not exactly what I had in mind.
Now that it’s over, I think we will both be happier. He will soon lose that loving feeling and will be able to live the rest of his docile life in Zen like chastity. Me? I can finally get a good night’s rest without being awaken to crazed animal sounds. And most importantly, my lil piggies can go to the market peacefully without getting sodomized within an inch of their lives.
I’m sitting here thinking about the events of the weekend and how I am so glad to finally be on the train.
I have my sunglasses on so no one can see my eyes are swollen with tears. I wish I was home already so I could do the undignified mascara running, snot dripping, talking in hiccuppy sentences cry. Cries like the ones you use to do when you were a kid and God forbid you miss the ice-cream truck and all of your friends are happily parading their freeze pops in your face and teasing you unmercifully.
But, instead I hold back so I am not furthermore known as the “crazy crying woman on the train” that some other blogger writes about. I hold back like I’ve been doing all weekend so the kids wouldnt see me all emo.
I was putting a band-aid on my niece Amaya this morning and she asked me why I looked sad. I lied and told her it was because my back was hurting and she asked me if I wanted a band-aid cause they always make her hurts feel better. I didn’t want her to worry cause her Auntie was distressed at the thought of her Daddy going away to Afghanistan (thank god for spell check cause I can never spell it right. As many times as I have to write it you would think I would know but it’s as if my mind wants to block out any comprehension of this country, let alone how to spell it) again.
I feel guilty that I am even allowing myself the luxury of sadness when it’s really my sister n law that has the real burden of being separated from her husband, lover and best friend till February. It is her that has to take care of 3 little ones who are already acting out today because they don’t understand why Daddy must go to “work” and won’t be back for a very long time.
The scene at the train station went better than expected. Amon is the last one I hug and I don’t want to let go. He laughs to stop me from crying and tells me he will be fine. He jokes that he is just going on a vacation and time will fly by. That he will email me often and send pic updates via Myspace. I nod and wipe my face because we all have to be strong for the kids.
I’ll try to sleep on the train but I know I won’t be able to. I know that there will be many more sleepless nights ahead until he is back again. I just hope I don’t have to go back to taking pills to keep the nightmares at bay.
I start to think about that real life nightmare when he was about 3 years old and I allowed him to wander off at the park instead of watching him like I was supposed to do. Our parents and everyone else in shouting distance looked for him for over an hour. I remember being so scared at the thought of him being lost forever. But being the smart ass that he was (and still is) he found a policeman and told him that “his mommy and daddy were lost and he needed help finding them”.
Thank God that story had a happy ending but the thought that his mommy and daddy are still perpetually “lost” and I am the only one in our immediate family to make the effort to see him off before deployment …makes me sad.
The thought of all those other children who are now living without fathers because they never came back from the same place he is going back to today….makes me sad.
But more so than anything the thought of my Little Boy Blue possibly not being able to find his way back home this time around makes my heart hurt and there isn’t a band-aid in the world big enough to fix it right now.
Anybody remember when Red Lobster use to be considered fine dining?
I have many fond memories of going there on special occasions as a kid. I remember my parents taking me there for my 7th birthday and how grown-up I felt being in such a “fancy” restaurant. It is a very poignant memory for me as it was the last time we had any special occasions with just the three of us because my brother Maku was born 2 months later and Amon 2 years after that. Within 3 years of that birthday my father would be leaving us.
Anyways, Amon still enjoys Red Lobster to this day so we decided to go there for his last night before deployment and as an early birthday celebration for Chyna.
We went with some family friends Noelia and Carlos and their two sons.
Along with our 3 little ones and Chyna (who is quick to tell you that we can longer consider her a child even though she still gets stuck at the kid table) we were a force to be reckoned with for the wait staff.
The conversation inevitably turns to my love life again and why I don’t ever bring anyone home. They say I’m too picky and I think too much about it. That I should just settle on the next nice guy I meet and make him mine. I tell them they don’t understand and even though they were all lucky enough to find each other it really isn’t that easy. My brother worries about me being alone and wants me to finally find someone good enough to take care of me as much as I try to take care of everyone else. Ultimately, I want that too. I’m just not ready to settle for just any nice guy. I’d rather be by myself then be with someone I don’t love wholeheartedly.
Recently, I half-jokingly told one of my friends that he was “the object of my affection” and he wanted to know how could I be so sure of my feelings for him. I told him it wasn’t something I could put into words but I was pretty sure. He didn’t seem convinced. I told him I would think about the “why?” and I would get back to him.
I wanted my response to be lofty and poetic and I wanted to use grand sweeping gestures with my words in the hopes that he could adequately comprehend what I felt. I thought about it and thought some more and just couldn’t find the words. It made think that maybe nothing was there after all if I couldn’t even put it on paper.
Then yesterday on our way back from Red Lobster we passed Chuck E Cheese. All the kids went ape shyt! They begged and pleaded to go inside. They were near tears once they realized we weren’t going to stop. I asked my 3 year old niece Aliana why she loved it so much and she looked at me puzzled and said “Because it’s Chuck E Cheese! And I just do!” So I pressed on...”But …why do you love it?”
And she says “Because I’m a kid and I’m suppose to!!” Hmmm.. Maybe it was less epiphany and more Pina Coladas but the effect was the same. It made perfect sense to me. She may not have had the vocabulary to explain her love but she knew what she knew because she KNEW it.
It got me to thinking that maybe we should all be more childlike and not make love so complicated.
Stop second guessing ourselves and go with what feels right. Maybe we should stop being so afraid to step out on limbs with reckless abandonment even if It means falling far from the tree and getting hurt. Who knows?
All I know is that I pray to God that he always keeps me safely rooted in my girlish romantic sensibilities. That he keeps me simple. That he keeps me honest.
And for goodness sake keeps me away from those Red Lobster cheese biscuits.
So I'm in Fayetteville, NC (the epicenter of all that is fun and fabulous) visiting my brother and his family for a couple of days and I went to my nephew's t-ball game today. I must admit the whole scene was pretty damn cute. And while I'm not officially admitting to any new "baby fever" I seem to have gotten a slight rise in temperature from lil boys in baseball uniforms.***
Btw. You heard it here first. Alexander Murry will be the next Barry Bonds!!! Minus the steroid use and the lying to the feds stuff.
***disclaimer-this is not to suggest a underlying issue of pedophilia but a more deeper issue of not wanting to take care of a baby but possibly a wee tike in the 3 to 5 year old range. Better?
Just when I was starting to doubt the existence of men of a gentle nature I encountered one this morning. The escalator was out at my metro station and I was struggling to get my overly packed suitcase up the stairs. A decent looking "suit and tie" politely offered to carry it for me. Normally, I would put up my "I got this" independent woman stance and decline the offer but lately that hasn't gotten me anything but reoccurring back problems and a jacked up manicure. So I kindly relinquished the bag and all he asked for was a smile in return. Wow. I was giddy the whole way to work! Easily impressed you say? That's a matter of opinion. But I sooo dig a chivalrous guy..that's a fact. Unfortunately we live in a world where general consideration, random acts of kindness and sincere gestures of interest, small and large are rarely expressed (or appreciated).
Some of my friends think its hilarious that I told an otherwise decent guy to kick rocks because he didn't walk me to my car. Um..hello it was 11:30 PM and he let me walk several blocks by myself in DC without so much as a inquiry as to if I got home ok. Unacceptable! But, on the other hand I was totally smitten with one guy because he opened all my doors even though he had a thing for running squirrels over on purpose .... with me in the car. Yes.. He maimed defenseless woodland creatures...but he paid for dinner damn it!
Anyway, my point is that a little chivalry goes along way and every most women want to be treated like a lady. What's that you say? Need some tips on how to impress a woman with your etiquette? Here are some simple ones from AskMen.com
Always open doors This is perhaps the most basic rule of male etiquette out there. It is also one of the easiest to follow so you have no reason to forget it. Whether she is about to enter your car, restaurant, club, or anyplace with a door, you should always hold it open. If there are many doors, then hold them open one after the other.
Put on her coat Always help a lady put on her coat or overgarment. This is a simple but powerful action.
Help with her seat If an unaccompanied lady is sitting next to you, it is important that you help her be seated by pulling her chair out for her and gently pushing it back into place, with the lady seated of course.
Give up your seat If a lady arrives at the table and there are no available seats, you should stand up and offer yours to her.
Give her your arm When escorting a lady (that you know) to and from social events, you should offer her your arm. This is a little more intimate, but serves well when walking on uneven ground -- especially if she's wearing high heels.
Ask if she needs anything
Always carry a woman's packages Let's face it; today's women would probably shoot you a puzzled fleeting look, so at least offer to do so. This lets her know you respect her and are courteous enough to inquire as to her comfort.
Offer your seat to women Classics are always fashionable. Some feminists would certainly have a fit, but most women will definitely value the gesture.
and My favorite..
Always walk on the curbside of the sidewalk when walking with a woman
A special congrats goes out to my girl Kim who just recently gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Olivia Camille. Kim has honored me with the duty of being Olivia's Godmother (she obviously doesnt have many friends).
And while we are on the subject of having babies.
Most of my friends are coming into that time in their lives when they are having, wanting and/or obsessing over babies. And while I understand this baby fever in theory, I just dont have it. Don't get me wrong, I can appreciate a cute baby just like any other wo(man). I ooh and ahh at the appropriate times when I am in their midst. Sometimes I even think about the minute details of what it would be like if I had one. Silly things like how I would decorate the nursery. Of course all baby lust diminishes when I'm in the company of a screaming toddler. Then I think about how glad I am that I dont have to go through that anymore. My child is almost a woman and I am finally at a point in my life where I can be a little more self-centered.
I'm not completely ruling out having another child but it would take an enormous amount of love for a great man or an act of congress to get me to reconsider. I have many thoughts, opinions and hangups about this subject and I'll share what I'm ready to share soon. In the meantime, I have to go buy a gift for yet another baby shower. It's a boy. Say it with me... awwwwwww....
To my sis n'law Claudia, my nieces and nephews and all my other mexican/blaxican friends and family. Way to stick it to those French dogs back in 1862. I will be drinking many margaritas in your honor today.
Addicted to the "I love the 80's" show on VH1. I just can't stop watching it!! It's bringing back so many fond and funny childhood memories. Here are some of my favorites: What are some of yours????
I was going to post a long tirade about my bad luck lately. I was going to complain about having to pay $500 the other day to get a boot off my car for a ticket that I didn't even know I had. I was in the midst of putting up the streamers for my pity party when I got this text from my friend Dawn. "KAREN DIED TODAY". It knocked the wind out of me. Karen was Dawn's best friend. I had only met her once but kept up with her life though conversations with Dawn. She was 34 and died of "natural causes". I could feel the inconsolable sadness coming from her when she told me what happen. She was numb and quite frankly so was I. It's always shocking to find out someone you actually met, had brunch with and hugged good-bye is no longer alive. I guess its one of those "For Whom the Bell Tolls" moments.
It just put so many things in perspective. It goes without saying that having a loved one die is the ultimate "bad hair day". It tops boots on cars, immature arguments, job disappointments, "he's just not that into you" moments and whatever other insignificant issues we get ourselves in a tizzy about.
I know we all get those "corny" emails reminding us how life is short, how every moment is precious, how we should never miss a chance to tell the ones we love how much they mean to us. But its true. Stop putting it off...visit them, call them, write them, forgive them, hug them, kiss them, fuckin' commit to them already!!!!
And if you don't love them why spend another moment wasting your time or theirs? Because the next 5 years, the next 1 year, the next month, the next day isn't promised. Just ask Karen's 8 month old son.
I have to showcase Staceyann Chin. She is perhaps my favorite poet. She's raw, funny, sexy and hauntingly honest. I am trying to be as courageous in my writing.
Here is my latest favorite:
What is sex, Exactly?
Three fingers and a barrier
no fluids/fluids
what about breath/what if she just panted a little
on your panties
what if you kept your top on/in the shower
in the hours before dawn
one finger/no barrier
silk/or lace
her face on your nipple/palm on chest
with bra/without a skirt
one hand under her shirt
no penetration/but you came
what if you got permission
would that mean you cheated
what if the it wasn't that heated
or that good
what if the hood of your jacket
stayed on the whole time
what if you thought of your lover/said her name
a hundred times/under your breath
out loud
should you be proud that you held her
present in every moment
what if there is no dick
no licking of parts deigned genital
what if you only kissed her face
but she opened like a parachute/and bled all over your hands
what if you did it standing in the hallway
of a church
what if you said ten Hail Mary's after it was done
what if it wasn't that much fun
what if you wanted to take it back when you were done
what if there were no lips/no slipping of anything
inside of anybody
only a humping
just an impassioned bumping of groin
against groin
moan or no moan
on a bed of foam/at home
outside/at a bar
far enough in to say that something happened
what exactly
you cannot say
tongues
open surfaces/non-private
heated glances across the room
cliches/really
possibilities of what could happen in another life
another lifetime
what if we had a parallel reality
another one of me/you
to be circumspect/to not consider what could be not-sex
with you
with her/with the parallel versions of us
could ignore these consequences
not have to
reference these parameters
why can't can I just jump
measure the cost/later
much later
in this lifetime
after the flushes/and the hush/hush/love
not so loud
mind the neighbors/the dogs
wooden floors is not made for this kind of activity
I have to be careful
though I want to press you
to the walls of the shower
make no note these hours passing so quickly
with your fingers buried
in my hair/my heart/my art
I want to reduce the neighbors
to whispers
so they would know
that what we are doing
is something akin to fucking/to rutting
to making the kind of love
they only dream of
I wish women would be honest enough to say
the basic fingering of foolishness
we endure from some loves
is not enough to make us come
alive
what exactly is
sex is exactly the intent with which a body moves
if she comes
you can say you fucked her
even without hands
if you wiggled a pinkie/a thumb
if you made her cunt numb without taking off a stitch of clothes
witch or craft
if you stroked the shaft of her rising
be with word or deed
if she needs you before bedtime
when she awakens
if she calls/if you crawl the floors in her absence
if she references the map of your skin
if you pin her to a wall
if she falls when you push your leg
between hers
if she bleeds for you
if you cut the wrists of your yearning with her profile
if your insides turn when you think of her
kissing her lover
you are already fucked
the parts of you still tucked away from wanting her
are doomed to emerge eventually
they will be marked by her ardor
striped by the way your eyes reach for her
in a crowded room
no hands
you have already committed the sin
tin-man or straw heart
the brick road ahead will be hard to follow
it will be impossible to turn back/it will be
painful to acknowledge
the details of such a thing will haunt you
how far
was too far/at what point was enough/enough to say
we crossed a line
having smudged the chalky lines with our bodies
arching/ardent on these floors
the more I think of it/the more
I am inclined to press the details in palms that will hold them
without judgment/my friends far away
have no opinion on the matter
are you happy, bitch
then I really don't give a fuck
if you fucked her or/if you fingered Mary Magdalene
if she makes you laugh/if she makes you food/if
she makes you scream the right notes
when you are nestled
if she makes you purr/pen in hand
if she informs that pool of ink you call your god
then she is good for you
like the Ocean/after a good cry
like the wind
when you have just about had it with the heat of Summer
if she can hold you when you holding back those waters that threaten
to drown you at night
if she feels right
the details of some afternoon
fading futile into hindsight
are irrelevant
what glints iridescent is the glow of you
giggling
you wiggling a self we worried was gone from the fierce warrior in you
all weapon and wielding
we need you whole
and we ain't mad at you getting a little nookie
now and then a girl needs to get her nuggets shined
all the ducks don't have to be lined up
they say
nipple or hands or shirts peeled off
barrier or no barrier
fingers or feet
it's good to see you coming
back to yourself
fluid and flowing
breath and beginnings
we give you permission to laugh out loud
forget the neighbors
the dogs
the questions of forever can no longer inform your yesterday
act first
in accordance with the now
today is the fulcrum upon which all future pleasures turn
burn the belly of the broken
look to what remains whole
hold it to you
honestly
trust that the less than noble notions of lace
illicit lips
and the lumbering of the last minute regrets
will leave you eventually
to lock themselves
away from the light of this lithic luminescence
stretching itself
limitness across the length of my hair
my heart
my art is lucky to have you
hopeful
so let me hold you
whole
remain with me here
till the task of time requires the aging parts of us to be
elsewhere
As I write this I am so emotionally spent I cant see straight. I could write a book on all the feelings I've had through out this election but it still wouldn't adequately convey my thoughts. More than anything else I am so proud to be able to share this historic moment with my grandma who never thought she would live to see this day But my heart hurts that his own grandma didn't live to see it herself.
