airing out

because sometimes you just feel... heavy.

like you've been sitting submerged in a small pool, fully clothed, soaking up all the water until it's just you and the bottom of a plastic, blue circle.

you attempt to get up, to stand upright, but to your surprise, you can't. the weight of your saturated clothes holds you down.

because sometimes ... you just need to either shed the heavy layers, or wring that ish out until it's light enough for you to move.

because ... sometimes you just need to air dry in the sun, quiet your thoughts and just hear yourself breathe in and out.

because sometimes .... you just need a break.


hope you all are fab and flyy for next couple of weeks.

... i'll be working on me.

*smiles*


***breaking news***

new chapter up over on the fiction side of things. so feel free to read up on Ata's latest. i will try to put a new chapter up at least once a week going forward.

thanks everyone for reading. now stop complaining. lol.

the poorness

i am broke.

broke. broke. broke.

hate to open the blog back up with such depression, but after carefully assessing my finances this morning, i have discovered the horrible truth that i am broke.

i hate that ish, too.

what do you do when the person that birthed you, that you love dearly, that is one of your best friends, has drowned you in debt and is constantly adding more effing water to the pool?

how do you handle that?

... cause i don't know how.

and it's starting to piss me off.

photophobia

they call me ocean
deep
strong
free

seemingly weightless
my heaviness hidden
revealed
only to those i allow
to see underwater

many have tried
to understand
the beauty
fullness
depths

all fail

throwing insignificant pebbles
aimlessly
trying to penetrate my surface
not knowing it takes more
much more


i conjur strong currents of thoughts
knock them over with knowledge
send tsunamis when they get too
close

choosing to swim without a life jacket...

they drown

this ocean
within lies joy
and pain
angst
and love

love that is
deeply buried
depth unknown
heart residing at the bottom
swaying with the currents
miles of waves separating it
from closest subject

wanting to float free
but knowing it can't stand the light
years of darkness beneath this ocean
has allowed photophobia to settle
stir
grow roots
convinced that no

one

would be bright enough

until one day
a light pierced through
no forewarning
caution
or blinking light

just bright

this beam
warm yet blinding
through sharks and sea
it delved deeper

penetrated the surface
traveled the ocean
hitting its' aim
my heart

one bright spot
in an ocean full of dark

that's you.

hot and cold

there is just something about him that you can't leave alone.

something inside that makes your insides flutter to see his name light up your screen. your knees weak to hear his voice. you are high, floating on cloud nine. ...or maybe it's nineteen. all you know is, you are in love.

seems as though as much as you love him, though, you two always seem to lose focus. get lost in the negatives. 'we're too different' has been the theme of your relationship since you first knew each other. when you agree, you agree passionately. but for the most part, where he is hot, you are cold. where he is black, you are white.

but still, through all that, you all fell in love. deeply. as much as you both thought it impossible, love conquered your heart and his too, and much to your disbelief, you found yourself writing his name in hearts each time you sat down to write anything. discovered his name floating around in your mind during odd times of the day, and even when you were having a really bad day, the thought of him always brought a smile.

thing is, you are still a little inexperienced in your dealings with men and heart matters. you know what makes him happy for the most part, but you are still learning what pushes his buttons. and even when you know those buttons that cause steam to blast from his ears and a slight ache to well in his heart, you have a hard time avoiding them for some reason. unwittingly, you always find yourself on the receiving end of his ire for something you did.

so now, he's pissed. you hurt him. you made him mad. you have caused his belief in you, and the two of you living happily ever after, to dissipate. so, what do you do now? how do you make up for it? do you beg? plead? try to make him see that what you did was not intentional? that you would never try to hurt him purposely?

or do you just realize that whatever you do, it will never be good enough. that no matter how much you love him or how much he says he loves you, you will always be one small eff-up from losing him forever. that you cannot tame a beast. and so you walk away, with your heart bruised, but your sanity still in tact. because for all appearances, you are going crazy over this man.

so tell me... can love conquer all? or are some people just too 'different' to have anything meaningful?

he's dead.

he's dead.

my devil ... is dead.

i suppose i should have felt some kind of joy or consolation when she informed me that the man who kidnapped my childhood and handed it back to me with a grin in such a twisted, and unrecognizable way, was finally under six feet of ground.

he was no longer a threat. i should've been happy, right?

what she didn't know was that he stopped being a threat long ago. i haven't seen him since that day.

i was six years old.

six.

bastard.

he's been dead to me for some years now. still, that didn't stop him from emerging from the shadows almost every night for years, creeping into the bed with me while i was asleep, invading my dreams so much that i would wake up swinging as if my life depended on it, perspiration dripping down my face, my neck.

i could take a hundred showers and still feel his clammy hands on my thigh. a thigh that was the same size, if not smaller, than the forearm he rested on it.

i could live a hundred happy memories, but the one of him telling me how pretty and sweet i was in his heavy, pedophiliac breaths, always seems to overshadow them.

she said he had a heart attack.

i know i was taught to forgive, but i wish i could have seen that motherf*cker take his last breath.

...in my opinion, he got 20 years of extra life. i hope he was grateful.

this night

I sit huddled in the dark corner
my shoulders bent under the weight
of your heavy anger.
i cry in spite of myself,
for you are my uncomforting comfort zone ...
i have gotten used to your hard edge despite the pain

you look at me pitifully, false sorry in your eyes
as you attempt to kneel down and look sincere.
i have no use for you, yet still i held on as if
you were pumping the very air in my lungs.

this night is different though.

there are no apologies, no regrets,
no begging pleas for forgiveness
i look at you and feel ... nothing.

not the blind love i once felt
that hid all of your ugliness from me.
not the devotion of all the years
i looked foolishly forward to spending with you.
not the utter elation that made my heart leap with joy
just to be in your presence

nothing.

i am spent.
no words have been left unsaid.
no emotion left unfelt
this night.

rain pours in the darkness outside the window,
a gloomy reflection of our last fight's tears.
you form your mouth to say something that might change
what we both know is the outcome,
... but wisely you walk away

i have no desire to hear anything you have to say.
drained from years of listening to your excuses.
funny how thin the line is between love and hate,
i didn't understand that until this night
knowing all along in the back of my mind
that you didn't deserve me ...
i continued to love unconditionally

not this night.

this night i am sick of your sorry ass
this night i am beyond fed up
this night i won't submit to forgiveness after just one kiss
this night i leave you no choice
this night is the breaking point

this night ... it is over.

the envy of the world

"To be born a black male in America is to be put into shackles and then challenged to escape." -Ellis Cose - The Envy of the World



we complain.

yell. harass. drag their name through the mud and dog them out to our friends and their children.

when we think we've been wronged, we get bitter. angry and outright mean.

then we wonder why they don't trust enough to open up to us.

"girl... you know he ain't shit. never gon' be shit."

... then we wonder.

i am saddened by the phenomenon that is the whole black women against black men thing. i just don't get it. why are we one of the only communities that can't work together? can't love. grow. heal. together?

and i know, i know the rebuttals of 'well black men don't respect black women' and i know that this is a major problem in our society of 'shawty get loose' and 'bust it baby' mind sets, but i for one, can count on one hand the number of times i have been disrespected by a black man. and i know a lot of black men. and furthermore, most of them are simply brilliant in their own right.

if a man treats a woman with respect and she tells him he is 'soft' or completely takes advantage of him, while the dudes that call us b*tches and hoes get love, how do we expect them to act?

a black man is one of God's greatest gifts. i truly believe this. second only to a black woman ... of course. lol. and call me crazy, but i just believe there are far more problems for black men in america to be worried about in this life than coming home to the one person who is supposed to be their helpmate constantly telling them how much of a failure they are.

maybe if we tried to uplift. maybe if we tried to encourage. motivate. love. push. guide. make them better.

maybe if we tried believing in them. just maybe.

and yes, barack obama is an exceptional feat. but does anyone think he would be where he is without michelle in his corner, telling him "yes you CAN, baby" far before that became america's mantra?

no.

they are looked at as 'threats' in america. a threat to what, i am still trying to figure out. i will never forget my white male professor at an historically black college standing in front of a room full of black women, telling us how black men are considered a 'threat' and nothing more than a sexual being, with no real skills besides providing a pleasurable reproduction experience, even as he stood in a building no more than a block away from a whole school of intelligent, profound black men.

yes, he said that.

the sad thing is that half of the room agreed with him.

... the other half of course, got him fired. lol.

but why is this stereotype so strong? why do we not place a value on black men?

we live in a world where black men are being exterminated. and yes, i know that is a strong word, but that's how i feel, and it just makes me sad. a world where black men feel they have to rob, kill and steal (or perfect the rhyming or hooping skills) to get money ... to get women who will treat them like a man.

we live in a world where they literally barricade you in a ghetto, place drugs and guns inside that barricade, make you feel like you can't do anything else by giving you a grossly inferior education by teachers that don't care, and then lock you away in jail for doing exactly what they expect/want you to do. then we wonder why they have a 6 in 10 jail rate by the time they are in their mid-thirties.

we live in a world where even the most intelligent of black men are still considered to be inferior. still considered to have slipped into that ivy-league school on an affirmative-action pass. still not considered 'good enough'.

we live in a world where black men are considered to be the worst fathers. the missing fathers. the ones that drop their seed and leave.

the thing is ... i know a woman right now who REFUSES to let her ex see his daughter without a court appointed visit. refuses. why? because he moved on. because he told her respectfully that it wasn't working out and she didn't want to accept it. her daughter is only three but every time she sees her father or his twin brother, she sees her mother cursing them out and calling them every name under the sun except the one their mother gave them. it just isn't right. why would you plant that doubt in her head at such a young age?

there has to be a change in mentality. has to be.


... so who will save the black man? who will be his backbone when the world gets heavy? who will tell him that's he not bad ... that he CAN do? who will believe in him?

cause from what i see, it sure isn't most black women.

then we wonder.

things not to say in a room full of white people.

the recent case of susan lefevre has sparked some very interesting conversations.


frolicky gay white man: "see, i totally don't think she should go to jail. i mean, come on now, she's like, a total model citizen now."

young white lady: "i totally agree. she has been rehabilitated. she was nineteen. she is a model citizen now. raised three lovely kids, contributing member of her church and community, i mean, she's basically me in twenty years."

i'm standing there, saying nothing. minding my business. listening.

frolicky gay white man: "you should like, totally be a judge. some of these crazy people are saying she should go to jail. that's so stupid. this lady is no harm to anyone."

young white lady: "yeah they are so stupid to think that. why would you put her in jail? that was ages ago. and you wouldn't even get that sentence now a days for that crime."

i look at the black man in front of me, minding his business, yet quietly shaking his head as he listens. probably thinking the same thing as i am. i can't take it any longer. maybe i shouldn't say anything, but if i don't, it will eat at me.

me: "so, can i ask a question? what about all those people who got the same sentence for the same crime who just got out of jail ten years ago?"

young white lady: "well ... too bad for them. i mean, i'd be pissed if i was them, but it makes no sense to put her in jail and spend money on jailing some innocent, harmless lady."

me: "she's not innocent. she escaped from jail. she trafficked drugs. she stole some dead person's identity for thirty years. so do you think she should get a fine at least?"

young white lady: "umm no. why would they do that? she's paid her debt to society. she has become a good citizen."

me: "so did tookie williams."

young white lady: "who?"

me: "exactly. so you're telling me if this was the same story, but it was him" (pointing to the young black guy in front of me) "you telling me you would feel the same way? be honest."


uncomfortable silence.


me: "there are few things a black man can do in america and get away with it. even if it isn't something wrong. sometimes he's just going to a friggin bachelor party the night before his wedding. i just feel that, if it was a black man, there would be a very different headline. maybe something like 'dangerous drug dealer found after thirty years! made to serve rest of sentence at age 50.' there would be no pondering of what should become of him. his ass would be in jail. that would be the story."

frolicky gay white man: "wow ... i uh, never thought about it like that. i still wouldn't think he should go to jail though. honestly."

me: "sure you wouldn't. i say fine her ass 500,000 dollars and put it towards these broke down schools in detroit. that could at least buy some up to date books. make her do 5,000 hours of community service, 'rehabilitating' young black men who were caught selling drugs. since she knows so much about turning your life around."


uncomfortable silence.


the black man in front of me smiles. nods at me. looks over at them and shakes his head. then takes his money.

me: "you have a wonderful day, sir."

should have read the fine print.

Okay okay
I give.
I can no longer handle the stress
the mess
the arguing

so...
I give.

That's right, I give.
I give up all my friends
male friends of course.
Because since they're male
they HAVE to be up to something, right?
Platonic friendships do not exist, right?
Right.

so... I give.

Oh, the outings I attend?
I give those up too.
Because what on earth do I need to see people
that I talk to on a forum everyday for, right?
Sure, we all share the a passion for poetry...
but MALE poets only write poems to get women, right?
And women only go to see the male poets, right?
Right.

so... I give.

I give up hanging with my best friend...
she's too pretty. And I'm pretty right?
So naturally, two pretty women will attract
waaaay too much attention from other men...
and other men are the ENEMY, right?
Right.

so... I give.

I am hereby giving up my freedom...
the time spent at poetry venues
will once again be right here with you.
the once-a-week gym workout is null and void too...
the lunch with a guy friend I've known for twelve years...
ladies night out with my girlfriends...
all wiped out.

I give already.
I give up my right to do what I want when I want.
I give up my right to talk to interesting people..
I give up my friendships... new and old.
I give up my poetry...
i give up my life...
Because, after all, those involve other men right?
And evverrrrybody knows that no other man on the face of the earth
can be trusted around YOUR woman, right?
Because that's what I am, your possession, right?

And look what I'm gaining!
I've found the ONLY man on the planet that will faithfully love me AND treat me right, right?
So of course it's worth it, right?
Right.

so... f*ck it.

I give.

na na now that that don't kill me...

after all of the stealing and cheating
you probably think that I hold resentment for you
but, uh uh, oh no, you're wrong
cause if it wasn't for all that you tried to do
I wouldn't know how just how capable I am to pull through
so I wanna say thank you, cause it...

makes me that much stronger
makes me work a little bit harder
makes me that much wiser
so thanks for making me a fighter...

made me learn a little bit faster
made my skin a little bit thicker
makes me that much smarter
thanks for making me a fighter



i can look back and know that he was weak. using me as the doormat to stomp his feet free of all his own inadequacies. i was never enough.

never pretty enough. thin enough. smart enough.

i can see now that i was more than enough. too much. i can think with a clear and rational mind now and know that it was him who had the issues.


yet sometimes, looking back still pisses me off.

only because of the years lost. the daughter we shared that i had to drag him to see in the NICU. the multiple times i took four different buses from westland to the east side of detroit (for all you michiganders...you feel me) just to see him. the cheating. the abortion. the whole gamut of self-esteem issues he so vehemently piled on me year after year.


most of the time though, i can look back and say thank you.

thank you for insisting that i would never be anything without you.

thank you for the many, many untruths you told me through the course of our relationship.

thank you for taking advantage of my docile personality, my loyality.

thank you for encouraging me to "get the f*ck out" that day, and then proceeding to push me out of the door so hard that i had a bruise on my arm for a week.

thank you for making me believe i was worthless, undesirable, and stupid.

thank you for assuring me there was no other man on the planet that would like me, let alone treat me right.

thank you.


i've had a ball proving you wrong.

surprised even myself at how strong i've become.

because of you, i know i can do anything i choose, anything i put my mind to.

sure, i've lost a bit of my innocence. become harder, tougher, thicker skinned.

in the end though, i owe you this gratitude.


even wrote this poem for you when i was especially grateful that you even decided to call me and see how i was doing. how sweet.


*67

i have a headache.
my ears are almost bleeding
can you puh-leeze stop screaming?
and pathetic is your pleading.
thought you were slick,
dialing *67 so i would answer
shit.
i did.

should've hung up the receiver
as soon as i knew
you were the deceiver.
and i'm still trying
but you're still crying
and i wish i hadn't answered this call.

the woes that befall you
are no longer my problem boo
i'm sorry she dissed you
and no i don't miss you
okay, now can i dismiss you?

no?

what else do you have to say?
you can't just leave things this way?
what way? ... they're perfectly fine with me
i've moved on ... can't you see?
what, you thought i'd be drowning in misery?
eyes red from crying a pillow sea?

nope.

well, not exactly.
i've already been through that stage
now i'm in the i don't give a f*ck phase...
the one where your name has been erased
replaced
embracing a new face...

switch!

so, are we done yet?
there's really no more convo.
your voice plus the tears
is a really annoying combo.
why am i so heartless?

hmm ... let's rewind.
you lied
tried to buy time
while she was taking what was mine ...
you deceived
and received
sex from someone not me

but now i'm relieved
so let's just end this conversation...
i have somebody waiting.
well, what can you do?

...go back to masturbating.

i'm going to jail ya'll...

oh no he didn't.

did this motherf*cker really just hit my 82 year-old grandmother?

nah.

he ain't that crazy is he?

he is?

oh hell no.

where's the pistol. the shovel. a rope. some poison. SOMETHING.

he gots to go.

how the hell do you hit your 82 year-old mother in the head?

ol not having a job, can't afford his cigarette habit, in and out of jail, in my face for a dollar every time i come over, forty-five year old motherf*cker.

i'm going to jail ya'll.

without a parachute.

the miracle of this whole situation is that we've even lasted this long. several people, horoscopes, and our general personalities suggested that we'd kill each other before living happily ever after.
so far, we have proven them wrong.

still, i can't help but be me. i, am a free spirit. he is not.

i am completely happy. i am. but life holds so much more in store for me than this city. this state. that house on that street. i'm convinced of that.

i jump, and he is my parachute. i fall, and he catches me. i act like the 'cute girl' towards him...whatever that means, and he lets me get away with it...most of the time. he accepts me, flaws and all.

i have become completely codependent on his 'being there', no matter what.

responsible, sensitive, reliable (sometimes) are all words that have now become characteristics of mine since we've been together, words that, before him, i'd never associate with myself.

the thing is, a bird... will be a bird.

one of the only things he asked me not to do, i did. something that i knew would hurt him, but my 'act now, worry later' carefree thinking has gotten me in a mess... again.

no, i didn't cheat. would never cheat on him.

still, yesterday was the first day i felt like my rock had shifted... if only a little. i felt it move, become a tiny bit less stable. the first time i felt that if i jumped, he might not be there to catch me.

don't think i've ever seen him this mad.

"i love you. more than anything, i want to be with you forever. if this happens again, ever again, i won't be here. i just won't."

his words. when he says things, he means it.

he wants me to understand. ...i do.

he wants me to assure him it won't happen again. ...i can.

but once again, i have no clue what to do to make it better. my dna is missing the strand that handles emotional situations well. the one that tells you how to soothe, how to apologize and make him understand that i mean it.

i honestly have not idea what to do.

my parachute has a tear and i don't know how to fix it.

my heart hurts.

more random ish...

okay, i know i am supposed to be putting a new chapter/installment up, and it will be up in a couple hours, but i just need to speak about some things today.

**for those who don't know, i am a VERY big fan of kanye west. in another life, i think we were married, but that's a whole other story. lol. anyhoo, i was on his blog today and saw the post of this video by colin munroe and i have to say it's the hotness. for real. and it sooooo describes how i have been feeling. it's like, okay i have all this talent. can't i just MAKE it already? geesh! can my book please be out already? sometimes it is frustrating when you are trying to realize your dreams and things keep getting delayed. but, i will keep doing me, cause i want those flashing lights...


**i'm sure most of you have heard by now that one of my favorite young actors, heath ledger, was found dead yesterday in new york. that is sooo messed up. i was just watching '10 things i hate about you' monday. they say it is drug-related which is so sad, but what is even worse is this:


apparently a gay-hate group is going to protest his funeral. wtf? they are mad that he played and almost won and oscar for a role as a gay cowboy in Brokeback Mountain.

makes me wonder where christianity is headed these days. i mean, it is okay to have your beliefs, but geesh. how can you protest someone's funeral? the funeral is for his family and friends to say goodbye and send him off, not really for him anyway. just makes me sad that there is so much hate in the world.

**two of my younger siblings are with people that aren't good for them. my sister knows how i feel about her cheating boyfriend who is causing her grades to slip and her to lose weight over worrying when she should be making use of that extremely expensive education she is receiving.

my brother is with a girl who is nice enough, but one who smokes weed, is complacent just sitting around the house all day doing nothing, has pictures of herself holding guns (yes, real ones) on her myspace page, and is just waaaaay too ghetto and gangsta for my brother. i don't get it.

but, i guess they will learn just like i did. i just don't know how to offer my advice without sounding overbearing or hurting their feelings. whew.

**boyfriend has asked me to move back home to his mother's house when our lease is up in march. apparently his mother is lonely and doesn't want to live by herself anymore. and seeing as though she has had a rough year, it's understandable. i love his mom and it will actually save me a lot of money, but the thing is she also wants to turn the house over to us in a year or two. that is also very very generous seeing as though it is a big, beautiful home, but a little part of me is selfish and wants to build my own home with my own memories. bf has had four girlfriends all up and through that house, one had a child (not his) and they basically raised the baby there until he was one or so when they broke up. am i wrong for not wanting seconds? i mean i see in the big picture it probably doesn't matter, but right now in this instant it's not sitting well with me. is that incredibly selfish?

**okay, am i wrong for thinking this is incredibly bad taste on disney's part?

it's called 'the noose necklace' and it is part of the disney couture line. it's for their line of jewelry from the Pirates of the Caribbean "Dead Man's Chest" collection, but it just made me mad to see it.

oooooh they so sensitive.

look what i just ordered!

the ghetto blaster bag. the hotness i tell ya. lol.

i'm such a dork. lol.

am i THAT old fashioned?

what's so wrong with getting married?

no, i'm serious. i'd really like to know.

having conversations on this matter with friends both male and female has caused me to think that something is wrong with me for actually being in a healthy, normal relationship and looking forward to getting married.

the general consensus is that marriage is for suckas. the relationship climate for black men and women is especially dire. the women have started to say eff marriage in the same rates as black men have been.

am i really the only romantic one left out of my whole group of friends? when i smiled and was describing how i'd like my future wedding to be, my friends had a collective look of 'she's so stupid' plastered on their faces. i mean is the single life of clubbing, random guys, and random hookups that great that you would NEVER want to get married?

the men look at marriage as a 'ball and chain' or like my ex used to say, "having a wife is like having a parole officer that you have to check in with every day." jerk. lol.

most women think it's old fashioned and even unrealistic to expect to be happily married and have given up hope in men, so therefore vow to have just as much single fun as men have.

"i'll date, i'll even have a semi-relationship with someone, but seriousness is not what i'm looking for right now." is what one of my friends told me. she is 29 and has one child, which is fine, but how old are you going to be when you finally decide you want to settle down?



so what's the point of being in a relationship with someone when you're in your late twenties to early thirties if you have no intentions on marrying that person? maybe i'm just old fashioned. that would be news to me. lol. have i been thinking i was cool all this time when i'm really just an old-fashioned loser? wow.

sometimes...

sometimes...

when days drift by endlessly

and my subconscious starts to rule my thoughts

they are of you.

Long after hours have passed since the last time

our bodies danced....i can still feel you caressing my skin.

still inhale remnants of your sweet-breathed kisses on my collar bone.

sighs linger deep and i smile...

what ifs cloud my brain as i rearrange time in my mind,

rewinding and aligning it so you and i can exist for a lifetime...

in my dreams we are perfect.

We outlast everlasting.

you sing to me beautiful melodies just a little off key

i read to you the stories of my mind's creativity.

i can't hold in the laughter you erupt from my belly

by just being you...

you make me smile.

Heaven only knows how many nights with dreams of you

and dreams of nights with you i've had.

heaven only knows how my soul aches thinking of the reality of our reality,

how space and opportunity never can nor will be a possibility.

still, some would call me happy.

I'd agree mostly.

But sometimes...

when days drift by endlessly

and my subconscious starts to rule my thoughts,

they are of you.

random ish...

*you rock to beyonce all day at work, singing along to 'get me bodied' and 'freakum dress'. you are personally offended that i won't allow you to 'weave me down' or 'train' my hair to be straight at the salon you work at. your pants are as tight as mine. your shirts are definitely tighter than mine. you have a slight ghetto-girl neck-roll thing that happens when you get mad and 'go off' on someone. you sip coffee through a straw only because you are afraid that it will stain your teeth otherwise. you have a video of beyonce performing on your phone. you offered to braid my hair. you spend at least 20 minutes per bathroom trip per day. yet, you are male.

but you wonder why everyone thinks you're gay? ooookkkaaaay.

i mean, i'm just sayin.

*seriously, if i hear one more song by t-pain this year i am just going to scream. seriously.

* why in the world is everyone so mad that saleisha won on top model? it is a REALITY show people, which in general means 'as far from reality as can possibly be done using a 'light' script'. get over it!

*okay, are you really going to pretend like you are 'accidentally' brushing up against me TWENTY times a day? come on now.

*i am seriously starting to think that some of these napptural women are beyond the point of normal perspective. i mean yes, my hair is important to me. keeping heat away from it and keeping it healthy is important. but to advise someone to leave their FIANCEE whom they are 6 months pregnant by just because he doesn't like her hair is just beyond me. i mean, common sense was given by God...for free. wow.

* i am noticing an unusual amount of white men hitting on me this month. i've been offered four 'out to lunches' two dinners and five or six iphone numbers. is it my new victoria's secret perfume? the new shade of lipstick and gloss i've been wearing? if it isn't one of those two then i am clueless. whatever it is, the vanilla beans are LOVING my caramelhoneyhotness lately. lol.

*mmmm raja bell. mmmm.

*vanilla ice cream at midnight is one of life's greatest pleasures. now all i need is to get laid get some rest and all will be right with the world. lol. (for mommy if she's reading. lol)

*hmm. i wonder how much time i'd get for strangling my little brother. i mean, the judge would understand, right?

*when i got into your car this morning i seriously felt like i had just stepped into the billowing cloud of smoke from 100 burning cigarettes. damn shame.

*i'll be soooo glad when this whole 'thick chick' phase is over in the black community. i'm tired of having cake and pasta thrown at me from every which way from people trying to save me from my apparent 'anorexia'. yeah cause a size five is just sooooo not normal. lawd lawd lawd.

*i feel like such a chester when i see chris brown. but that is one sexy lil youngin! lol. and from what i hear...he likes older women....lol.

when did i become the 'old mom?'

ah...the joys of not having to work on monday. lol. i love bank holidays. (big smile)

this weekend was fun but eye-opening. i woke up early saturday morning feeling happy and refreshed. the night before was the first night in which i had slept eight whole hours in a long long time. i hopped out of bed, examined myself in the mirror, smiled (of course) at the fact that i didn't look like death warmed over for once after just waking up, and then my phone rang.

it was one of my college friends. she was happy, no ecstatic. she was calling to tell me that she and her husband are pregnant with their second child and that they will be moving into a bigger home before the baby is born. sweet right? i was/am happy for her, but it really made me think, because, as usual, we got on the subject of my life and non-existent marital status. now to me, 25 is hardly 'old'. not young, but definitely not old. funny how everyone else seems to think so.

my friend went on and on about how i should be married by now and working on a couple of kids, and how we're the same age and she's already almost done with her Ph.D while i sit here degree-less and dangerously close to becoming the 'old mom'. i do believe that there is a divine plan mapped out for everyone's life, so as off-road and behind as mine may seem, i told my friend congratulations on the baby, but to bug off about me and mine and my chances of ever becoming a MILF (cause apparently they're only 'young' and hot).

the very SAME day, my father called me and asked when i was going to "drop a couple of grandkids for him" cause he's not getting any younger and still wants to be able to play catch with the little ones when they get old enough. my mom asked if bf and i were going to elope on our upcoming march trip to vegas, and my younger sister seems to think that if i don't get married and pregnant in the next year, then 'statistically' i will never marry and have children, so i better hop to it. i mean geesh, they were just throwing rings and sperm comments at me from every which way!

being that my bf turned 31 on that very day, it does seem like it should be time for us to start being 'real' grown-ups and get a mortgage and car payments (well me anyway) and have the 2.5 kids and a cute medium-sized dog, but dang! why do i have to be pushed into it! whew!

right now, i am focusing on me and the great man that i have been blessed with. everything else will fall into place when it is time. until then, i wish everyone would remove the very annoying very LOUDLY ticking clock they've placed on my ovaries! geesh!

lessons from the teller line

working at a bank has taught me a lot. a whole lot. just doing my everyday duties is like doing a case study on the financial habits of african-americans, caucasians, and indian and arab communities.

and that's where this post comes from.

here's the scenario: a young (maybe 30 years old) indian guy comes in the bank and makes a deposit from the business he owns like he does every day. usually it is between $1,000 and $5,000. we usually talk about the weather and what team is doing good and yadda yadda. but today i was feeling particularly inquisitive and wanted to know what i have to do to be 30 and showing considerable profit in my own business.

me: "you handing out any applications, cause you're clearly having a better day than i am." i smile, of course. always have to have good customer service.

mohinder (yes, like the Heroes character. i always ask him if he caught himself on tv even though i know it is a common name. lol) : "can i tell you something? i want you to remember this. never again ask for an application for a job. jobs are for people who are satisfied with others telling them what to do. instead, ask for advice. ask for a copy of their plan."

this caught my attention seeing as though i was expecting the standard half-laugh and polite smile and in not a real answer.

me: "well then, bring on the advice."

mohinder: "see, people make mistakes in wanting to be rich but not having a plan. people want to work a little and party a lot, and be rich. it doesn't happen this way. if you work really hard for one or two years and party very little, you can achieve this. keep your credit good, and work together. it is much easier to gain wealth together than by yourself. my family and i all worked together. lived in the same house for one year, and after that we all could afford whatever we wanted, and where ever we wanted to live. if you teach your children how to make money instead of how to receive money, you will be happy to see them grow up and do it."

this really got me to thinking. i was sitting there counting his $7,000 deposit and thinking about my own pitiful check stub and i realized he was right. i was never taught the importance of good credit. never saw an example of good money managing. never knew the importance of having a savings account. none of that.

i can't help but notice in my every day work that the lowest bank accounts belong to blacks. that most of the overdrafted accounts belong to young black people. i mean in general, we don't have parents putting money in our accounts on a monthly basis. nor were we taught the importance of saving and keeping our credit tight, until there is some upset creditor calling us 50 times a day.

in my observations, however limited they may be, black people are the only people that don't build wealth as a community and keep it in our community. we are a people of starkly individual mindsets, which is fine in some cases. but when i look around at other races, they do seem to have a more community mindset. and higher bank accounts. even my coworkers, the white ones have inherited businesses or money or some kind of asset to their financial life, like their parents paying for college, or buying them their first car so that they can save their money for college. the indian ones have the same thing, except it is extended to their whole community. the chaldean one, her whole family, aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters, all live together splitting the mortgage until all of them have a nice car that is paid for, then they branch out.

the only time i've ever witnessed this being done by black families is when i was in school in atlanta. there were several successful married parents that made life a lot easier for their kids in college. not spoiling them, but lessening the load so that they could concentrate on being successful themselves. and they did this all while showing and being good examples of money managing and saving so that their children would learn to do the same. (one of my friends, both of his parents are doctors. living in a beautiful house, they could have easily bought him a car to get around, but they didn't. he had to work and when he saved up enough his father surprised him and matched the money he had. when i asked him about it he said his parents always did things like that to teach him the value of money and the importance of knowing how to save and invest. now, at age 24, my friend owns his own company and OWNS an equally beautiful house of his own, that he had built no less.

all because he was taught right and was offered support. it's amazingly simple and yet we can't seem to get it. i know one thing, my children are going to be okay. i mean, really okay. i guess it starts with one family at a time.


in other news.... okay seriously, there is a new chapter up now on the fiction blog. link to it on your right. please check it out. it was supposed to be up friday, but the stupid editor wouldn't let me post it. then i was busy all weekend and so now...here it is. sorry for the loooooong time in between. promise it will be weekly from now on. if i could just quit everything and write, promise i would. whew!

adios!

forget writer's block....i've got a barricade.

something is wrong.

i mean, drastically wrong.

wtf is wrong with me?

here i sit, house all to myself, Wynton Marsalis softly trumpeting through the speakers of my laptop, mind ablaze with ideas for articles, short stories, and poems....and i can't seem to translate the one thing i do need to be working on into words. i've been sitting here seriously for the last two hours writing and rewriting the first four sentences to a brilliant story i have in mind. the plan was to get to at least chapter twelve by the end of the week, seeing as though i'm on vacation. and i'm not even past the first paragraph....and i'm going out of town tomorrow, so this is pretty much my last day to write peacefully.

maybe i'm thinking too much. i told myself i was going to lay off the heavy blog-stalking for a while and concentrate on my writing, but that seems to have only derailed my efforts to be more productive further. usually, listening to light jazz will bring the words to life, they usually flow effortlessly like the saxophone wafting from John Coltrane's Naima. seeing as though it is my absolute favorite jazz song...i am surprised that even it is not working.

it is hard to have a time frame in which to complete something as arduous as a novel when you cannot even form four cohesive sentences. whew! it is making me frustrated. and doubtful. and that in turn is making me unmotivated.

someone, somewhere, help!!

but can we bridge THIS gap?

opposites attract, right? right. i guess. but romantically speaking, how opposite is too opposite? i was talking to my friend mwangangi last night and we had the beginnings of a debate that my boyfriend and i have had many a time. if not for my call of a time-out, we probably would have still been talking right now. lol. (still luv you mwangangi...lol).

let me say this first. my boyfriend is amazing. one of the most morally sound, sweet, selfless people i know. maybe even perhaps thee most. he won't break even the most insignificant law or rule (he feels bad if we go downtown and park at the casino and don't play, so he sticks a dollar in any machine. lol), he doesn't swear. doesn't lie. doesn't cheat. basically the ten commandments were made for people like him.

the thing is, he doesn't believe in the ten commandments. or christianity. i however, do. gasp! right?? at least that's the reaction i receive the most when this fact is revealed. he somehow goes from being muze's 'perfect' boyfriend to 'aww hayle naw...he needs Jesus!'

how on earth can someone who is almost atheist (i say almost because he is always willing to listen and be proven wrong) be with someone who is a devout christian?

well, that's my question. lol.

right now, we have a great relationship. he is actually more morally sound than most 'christian' guys that i know. and despite this subject coming up several times, he has never tried to force his beliefs or lack thereof upon me. if i ask, then he shows me his 'evidence' of why he thinks the way he does, and that's that. and i've actually even learned a lot from that point of view. but, when i think of our future, as in children, i wonder how this will affect them and our relationship down the line. he has said that he will not go against anything i instill in our children, but when they reach an age to make the decision on their own, if they ask, he will tell them why he is not in church every sunday with us.

i'm not going to make this long. my question is just this: would you date someone who does not have the same spiritual beliefs as you? normally, i would say no. but i've met some pretty amazing people that don't have the same beliefs as i do, including my boyfriend and they are all still good people. i know that in christianity, the man is supposed to be the spiritual leader of the household, so this in itself poses a fundamental problem for us. so far, it hasn't, but i do realize that it has the potential to cause major dissension in our relationship in the future.

whew. my life.

what would you do?

oh-in browsing some sites on this subject, i came across this one. it's pretty funny. lol.