Last night, on a whim I was invited to see The Color Purple. I was lounging around in my house uniform of tank top and shorts , replaying a recent phone conversation with a friend in my mind, while also trying to figure out what I was going to eat for dinner. I had already resigned myself to the confines of my very hot ass apartment for the evening, when my phone rang. My girl, T. asked if I wanted to see The Color Purple because she had an extra ticket for last night's performance. I said, "YESSSS!" Those that read my blog faithfully (Rashad), may remember that I saw the show last year around this time. I had 90 minutes to shower, curl my hair, apply makeup, get dressed, and make it downtown. Now for those that really know me, know that I needed about 30 more minutes in that time frame.

I arrived at the theater approximately 2 minutes before the curtain went up (hey I made it, ok??? hahahahahha). While I had seen the show before, this is was the first time I saw the show with Fannie Mae, I mean Fantasia, in the lead role. A few changes but the show was beautiful, just as I remembered it to be. The music, the actors, the set were all in sync, in a type of fluidity that grabbed a hold of you from the opening number. If it weren't for the teenager sitting in front of me who kept bouncing her seat back onto my knee, my attention would have never left the stage.

Throughout the show I couldn't help but think of my earlier phone conversation. I'd wished my friend were with me to see this play. It spoke on a lot of what we were discussing about faith in times of hardships. Its easy to have faith when everything is right in your world. But in those moments when you feel that you can't breathe because of the pressure from the weight of the world is when you have to lean a little bit harder on your faith and beliefs. I realize in typing this that I should be the last person talking about faith and trust because of my own struggles with the concepts of late. However, what's wrong with wanting the best for a friend, even when you can't envision it for yourself??? Does that make me a hypocrite?

During intermission, I ran into a girl who went to Hampton while I was there. If I'm not mistaken I believe she was Ms. Hampton University at some point. I could be wrong, but I think I'm right. I was walking past her section to return to mine, when she said, "Heyyy girl!!! How are you? I haven't seen you since back at Hampton" It wasn't until she said her name that I vaguely remembered who she was. We hugged, chatted for a minute, I told her to enjoy the rest of the show and went on my merry way. This phenomenon always leaves me shaking my head. This girl was definitely at least 2 years ahead of me, I think. We shared no class together, no mutual organization affiliation that I can remember, and I don't believe our circles of friends intersected at any point (unless one of my boys was banging one of her girls but that hardly ever connected back to me. hahahahahaha). If she was in fact Ms. Hampton , she was a quote on quote celebrity on campus, and I would hardly put myself in the celebritous category at least not at the time..hahahahahaa. While people tell me often that they remember me from college, I can't think of anything memorable I did during my time at my Home by the Sea. While the social butterfly in me blossomed during those years I was never a cheerleader (even though I could shake it, shake it, SHAKE DEEEES like I was on the squad...hahahahahahaha), I didn't pledge (the all important status symbol at a Black college), I was President of an organization but it wasn't that big of a deal. I guess at the end of the day I'm always questioning how people remember me and why?? What footprint did I leave for someone to even care to remember?

When the show ended, I didn't cry like I did the last time. And I was very conscious of that. Yes, I knew the ending because I'd seen it already. But shit, I've read the book a couple of time and I can quote the moving on a whim ('it's gon' rain on yo head." "You just a big old heffa. Ha Ha Ha" "You sho izzz uglay". I really could go on and on...hahahahahaha). This time around I was very conscious that the emotional out pour wasn't there for me, and I have to admit it bothered me a bit. I could be trite and blame it on the hunger battle being fought in my stomach but I recall the same battle was fought at the end of the show the last time. Maybe I'm just reading too much into it. Maybe I'm over analyzing me these days. I still really enjoyed the show and would see it again. It was a beautiful evening with friends and at the end of the day that's all that really matters.

Oh by the way I would like to thank my millions of readers for spreading my disdain for grocery store attire in the theater. I saw not one sweatpant or baseball cap all night. Definitely an upgrade. Keep the movement going, people.