Weekend Recap.

Yeah I know I said I hate these types of blogs before but they serve a purpose. Thankfully this weekend actually began on Friday and not on Tuesday like in my last weekend recap. hahahahhahaha

FRIDAY
My weekend began with an afternoon conversation with Spalding. I know its been a minute since I've made any mention of him but I've had my reasons. This particular conversation was one of those lay it out on the line convos - no holding back. It leaves me more uncomfortable than at ease. Why is he the only one that gets under my skin?? I know its because of my stance on relationships and love. But I feel more naked than that stupid ass Cowboy playing the guitar in his tighty whiteys in Times Square in the dead of freaking winter. When I hung up, I was left with more questions. Mostly for myself. I wondered if I would ever be comfortable with letting go. Again. I try to tell myself that I'm here and he's there (there being aproximately one thousand two hundred eighty six miles away. approximately. hahahahahaha). But that shit isn't easing how I feel. Shit this is too heavy. Especially for a Friday. So instead of sitting in the house and replaying my afternoon convo in my mind, I went to a party to get my drink and my 2 step on. And yes, it was on! This party was exactly what I needed. A complete distraction. I flirted, got my drink on, and managed to drop down low and sweep the floor with it a few times. For some reason every guy I met kept telling me how good my hair smells. Weird, right?? But after such a heavy afternoon, I needed the frivolity of it all. No talk of relationships and feelings. Just kicking up my 4 inch red heels and shaking my ass as if rent depended on it. Good times.

SATURDAY
I had a hell reunion. I know I've mentioned here before that my first job out of college was at a place that was pure HELL. It didn't help that the office building's number was 666 and my office was located on the 6th floor. Along with my best friend, the 5 of us were a force to be reckoned with. We were educated, confident, intelligent black women - management's worst nightmare. Thankfully, we all left HELL for bigger and better things, and above all remained friends. One of my girlfriends was in town for the holiday weekend so we all got together. We went to a restaurant in Brooklyn that was pathetic. The service was meager at best and the food was mediocre at best. I just want to know: how can you open a Caribbean restaurant in Brooklyn, the epicenter of Caribbean culture in the US, and your jerk chicken, a signature Caribbean dish, is fraudulent? Barbecue sauce on pieces of chicken breast? Are you kidding me? But I digress. The food didn't matter (even though my stomach paid the price later..hahahahaha). We were together like old times. Laughing, joking, tackling serious subjects, offering advice. I looked around at the table and realized how important each and every woman present is important to my life. I have learned so much from these women. I wanted to wrap every minute, every second into the finest, most exquisite material (what is this? velvet??? hahahahahahah), and lovingly unwrap it every time I feel happy, sad, lonely, frustrated, joyous, loved, unloved. That is how much they mean to me. I loved every minute of it. We made plans to get together soon but so often life gets in the way. Despite the terrible food and the gastric pains that ensued it was definitely good times.

SUNDAY
I woke up pretty early because my bedroom is a sauna. Like someone installed an oven right under my bed sauna. My bedroom floors are never cold and most nights I flip my air conditioner on before I close my eyes. No, I'm not complaining because yes I am grateful for the heat. But damnit, I'm about to rent my bedroom out as a weight loss medi-spa. Guaranteed to sweat 10lbs of ya ass or your money back!!! hahahahahaa
My journal was in the bed with me (wished it was someone and not something but I digress...hahahahaha), so I started from the beginning and read and read and read. I let my legs dangle from the edge of my very high bed with the bright sun kissing my back through my window. After I laughed, cried, and laughed some more, I stared out my window with thoughts of the past couple of days swirling around. Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest but my mind was racing like it was speeding on the highway below my high story window. That need for calm forced me to get my ass up and go to church. I've been going to church more often lately. In the rebuilding of the kingdom of me (like that don't ya? hahahahah), I figured I needed to return to some basics in my life, the tangible and the intangible constants. I didn't go last Sunday because I was kidnapped by Hustle. Again, another blog for another day (or maybe not). But I've been going. Alone. No friends, no family. Just me. I focus better that way.

This particular Sunday, we had a guest priest officiating. Yes, I said priest. Yes I'm Catholic, as in Roman Catholic. (Sidebar: why do people always look at me like "Really?" when I say I'm Catholic. Yes, Black folks love the Pope too. hahahahahaha) Now a guest priest giving the sermon can lead to disaster. Either you can't understand a word they are saying because English is not their first language or you miss the message because you were too busy nodding off. Thankfully, this was not the case. This priest gave one of the most powerful sermons I've heard in a long time. He had people out their seats, shouting "AMEN" into the rafters, which we just don't do as Catholics. We calmly say "amen" with our hands reverently clasped in our laps and clap at appropriate moments for exactly 5 seconds. hahahahahahaaa. This was the only time in my life when I wished my church was one of those ginormous, altar looks like a talk show set, pastor drives a Bentley church, because I knew a DVD or CD of his sermon would be for sale in the vestibule right next to the Jesus Loves You carving knife set. I was moved to tears. Right there in church. The last time I gave way to my emotions during service was the Sunday after I found out someone I knew died in the World Trade Center.
What was the topic, you may ask? Well the priest paraphrased a Mary J. Blige song and told us "You can't hide from [God's] love" (and yes he did quote the song). Now, you know, I have issues with the whole love thing, so initially I was squirming in my pew like I was the 2 year old sitting in front of me. But since I was sitting there alone, I had no choice but to focus on his message, with my hands reverently clasped in my lap. Of course.

Sitting there on that hard ass pew in my soft grey turtleneck dress, I realized why my mind has been racing a mile a minute lately. I'm too busy running. Running away. Yes, I don't trust love in my hands. I feel that I may break it since clearly, I haven't been able to take care of it properly. So I turn and run. Run for the hills, the valleys, who cares as long as I'm not near it. The priest flat out told me that I "can never outrun God's love so cut it out." I chuckled along with everyone else but I was very uneasy. Normally, I listen to the sermon, and think "Uh huh. I know somebody just like that. Ooooh , so & so needs to be here to hear the message". Don't act like I'm the only one who does that. Well I guess this Sunday I was "so & so" because I got to hear the message. (SIDEBAR: you know I gotta ask! Who the hell is "so and so"? How do we know them??? hahahahaha) I understand that I need to sit still and figure some shit out. I let fear be my running shoes and yes I'm deathly afraid. But I'm not afraid to admit it. That has to be a step right in the right direction, right????
I left church and checked my cell phone. I had 6 text messages and 3 missed calls, all with plans for the rest of the day. Didn't feel like brunch, or going to a movie, or going shopping (yes clutch the pearls, I didn't want to go shopping...hhhahahahaha). I sent text messages to everyone, declining their offers. After this sermon, I went home, turned my phone off for the better part of the day, took my running shoes off and let my bare feet dangle from the edge of my very high bed for a minute. Yes just for a minute, but hey, you gotta start somewhere, right???? Good times, indeed.