I spoke to "He". It had been awhile since I've spoken with him. I don't think I blogged about it the last time we spoke last fall. Recently, out of the blue, he reached out & I answered. With glee. Like kid in a candy store euphoria.
Seriously, I don't know what's worse - not speaking to him at all or speaking to him so infrequently that I dread hanging up because only the Lord knows if and when we'll speak again.
In all fairness, I never reach out. Except for one day a year - his birthday. But I always choose the quasi-passive aggressive but least intrusive approach - happy birthday via text. My rationale is that I don't want to intrude on his new life with his new wife. Its a club I don't belong to so I feel like quite alien-like if I try to reach out.
However when we actually do speak, on the surface our conversations are just as easy breezy as they were before "the revelation". We trade stories of the ridiculosity we happen to witness in our everyday. We update each other on the family. We laugh until my belly aches. All the trappings of what friends do. But there's a big pachyderm in the room that we'll never ever acknowledge. EVER. So we go through the motions sidestepping Dumbo but, at least for me, the motions feel slightly disjointed. Have you ever watched Dancing With the Stars and you think a performance was incredible but the judge says something like "your left big toe was half a degree off center while your arm wasn't fully committed to the turn" and they give the person a 7 when, to your untrained eye, it deserved a 9?? Well that's what this feels like to me. No one would suspect that something is off but I know the ignorant bliss of our friendship before and that makes the friendship we now have that much more off balance.
I begrudgingly hung up. While our conversation had been going on for about an hour, it felt like 5 minutes and was over way to soon for me. Yes, I'm being all kinds of selfish and wrong but just maybe I still regret not saying how I felt sooner and maybe I regret letting my fears get best of me and maybe I just want what I can't have and just maybe I wonder what if from time to time. Or maybe I just really miss my friend.
If I could choose just one word to describe my birthday it would be ENERGIZER - yes as in the pink bunny with the drum set strapped to its back!!!! From the stroke of midnight on March 3 until this moment, I've been going and going and going and.....well you get the point. I'd probably have another novel on my hands if I tried to recap EVERYTHING - drama and all. However, there are definitely somethings worth posting on this blog (and I won't incriminate myself in the process....hahahahahha)
Stroke of midnight Since my birthday fell on a Wednesday I made no plans. I already had a jam packed weekend planned and I didn't want to tack on another event for my friends to feel obligated to attend. However, sometime after midnight I found myself at a ghey karaoke bar belting out Single Ladies in my best tipsy Beyonce impersonation with my friends cheering me on in the audience. Yeah scratch the needle across the record. You read correctly: ghey karaoke bar. Lemme explain. Tuesday night, I went to a farewell dinner for someone I know through a committee I work with. While there, my friends sent a text for me to join them at a restaurant/bar uptown. I hopped in a cab after the lonnnnng dinner (and upteen glasses of wine). Once at the new location, one of the guys with us is ghey and recommended the karaoke spot so we shuffled into another cab to check it out. And we had a blast. The drag queen host with the subtle stubble sang to me. And for my encore I sang "You Aint Gotta Call" by Ursher complete with ad libs & monologues. I sang that one from the heart (there are a few people who I could dedicate that one to...hahahaa). Thankfully none of my friends had video cameras because I might be a YouTube sensation by now.
Partay with a Purpose With the exception of last year, I always ALWAYS have a birthday party. I love getting my friends together for drinks and dancing and more drinks and more dancing sprinkled with a little debauchery for good measure. Lord willing, I hope when I am 95 at Shady Pines, I will still be on the dance floor shaking what my momma gave me. This year, while I still wanted to get my party on, I wanted to do something a little more.
A very close friend of mine has a nephew who has an inoperable brain tumor. Thankfully, he is responding well to treatment but I remember when she called to tell me the news. I felt like a vacuum had sucked all the air out of me. So I could only imagine how she and her family felt. He's only 11 and shit like that is not supposed to happen to an 11 year old. For a while I kept thinking, I wish there was something I could do. I'm not a surgeon so I couldn't help that way. One evening at home, while sipping on one of my latest favorite glasses of wine, it came to me. What if I could raise money to send my friend's nephew and his mom/her sister on the family vacation this year? I figured I could at least try to raise money to give them something fun to do this year. So instead of having a birthday party and then turning around to throw a fundraiser, I decided to combine the two. With the help of friends and the most gracious party promoters (who I also call friends) by the end of the night I raised over $300 with money still coming in my birthday cards (still have a ways to go but that's a great start - I had no expectations). Also with the help of said friends and party promoters, I was beyond tipsy by the end of the night. Allegedly, the things I said were LEGENDARY. And no, I will not incriminate myself by repeating alleged quotes on this here blog.
Bottomless Brunch. This too has become a birthday ritual for me. With my favorite brunch spot being closed for damn near a year now (how could you do this to me?) I needed to find a location to accomodate about 20 friends AND provide unlimited brunch elixirs. Thank the Lord for Google because I found this location and made arrangements to scout the location in a day. As you can tell from the website, I was quite impressed with what I saw.
For some reason I got the bright idea to have BOTH birthday events back to back - party Saturday, brunch Sunday afternoon. What the hell was I thinking??!!! Thankfully, my friends love me and the weather was gorgeous because we all made it there at a reasonable time. My Guy Guru, Rashad and his lady came all the way from DC just to attend my birthday brunch (okay that's a lie - they really came up for a jazz concert the night before but it sounds so much better when I say they came up here for me, don't you think??). And I must give a special shout out to Rashad. He was only one of 3 guys in attendance and he endured about 30 minutes of CC, DD, and PP (cock convo, dick dialogue, and penis prose - hows that for alliteration....hahahahahahaa). And that's when I asked the manager to turn on the Lakers game in our private alcove - he and the other guys more than deserved it. I was surrounded by old friends, new friends, friends I saw a few hours earlier, friends I haven't seen in almost a year. Friends from many different points in my life. And I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
When I blew out the candle on my red velvet cupcake, I made a wish that the love and joy I feel on my birthday never fades and that it carries me through whatever life brings my way. There is nothing like the warmth you feel from the love of your friends. And I get to feel it for at least the next month as the birthday celebrations continue with a couple of dinners and a concert. I'm going to need to recharge this Energizer bunny when its all said and done.
PS There will be another birthday post, documenting the fashion of the weekend - talk about drama. Guys, you've been warned. LOL
I missed the bus. The bus was already at the next stop when I turned the corner. Do I walk to the train station? I thought. My feet balanced on 4 inch heels vetoed that idea. Damn should I take a cab then? My wallet shot that idea down as well. Well I guess I'll be waiting for the next bus. Thankfully it was a gorgeous sunny spring day - the kind of day that makes you pull up your boss' email address to inform him that you are *cough cough* sick but then you realize this is the first of many beautiful sunny days so you carry your ass to work.
There was a woman sitting at the bus stop. She was an older woman with a few bags at her feet. She moved one bag off of an empty seat when she saw me approach.
"Thank you" I said as I eased down onto the chilled metal seat. We both watched a young man cross the street with the top of his pants barely covering his kneecaps. I shook my head in a state of I'm tired of seeing these fools' drawers. She chuckled at my reaction thus beginning spirited and enlightening discussion on the state of our youth. Her insights were so full of wisdom and socioeconomic theories I felt like I was chatting with one of my former Hampton professors.
I turned to look down the street & my extra long chariot was about a block away. As people gathered closer to the bus stop sign to line up to board the bus, I stood up & offered to help her get on the bus with her bags.
"Oh no honey! I'm just sitting here at the bus stop until the shelter lets me back in this evening. Maybe I'll go to the park in a little while. Have a blessed day" she said with one of the most beautiful genuine smiles I'd ever seen. She returned to repacking her bags & that's when I saw the myriad of bags she had stuffed all around her.
All I could say back was "oh". What else could I say? Wallet was empty so I had no money to offer nor could I wave an Oprah wand to place this lady in permanent housing so she wouldn't have to sit at a bus stop to pass the time away.
I dipped my metrocard & actually got a seat on the bus. I watched this woman repack her bags & wondered how the hell did she get here.
She must have sensed me staring because she looked up smiled & waved as if she were sending her child off to school. I laughed at the thought & waved back. And smiled.
I started this 40 Writing Challenge with good intentions. But as the saying goes, "The road to hell is paved in good intentions." Not to say that the actual writing has been hell - for me that's the easy part, the joy. Once I have a topic in mind, I sit down and let the words flow. When I started the challenge, even I did a writing calendar - a daily list of all the things I wanted to write about. However, hell for me is Time Management.
I can't seem to get it together. I could blame it on planning my mom's birthday (this past Saturday which because of the snow storm I had to revamp all plans at the last minute, leaving me with a refrigerator full of red velvet cupcakes) and planning my National Holiday festivities (birthday was yesterday; festivities this weekend). But as I've recently told a guy (Starbucks aka Mr. Mink), "you make time for what's important". And I have yet to prioritize my love of writing which is just re-damn-diculous. How can I expect to grow as a writer if I don't work on it?? Athletes practice. Actors act. Writers write. And I'm not writing as frequently as I should. I suck.
I've tried writing in the morning but seriously my brain is not fired up that early in the morning. I barely grunt out verbal greetings in the morning so I know damn well I can't string words together into cohesive streams of thought. Late morning - midday is when the urge to purge words usually hits but I'm at work (yes still at the plantation - dysfunction at its finest to say the least). But here's the problem. Most days they actually expect me to do their work and not my own. Go figure.
Ray Charles may have belted out "You know the night time/is the right time/to be with the one you love" but my social calendar does not permit me to engage and be one with my writing. Too many distractions. Committee meetings, dinners with friends, the occasional date, running errands (groceries, laundry, cooking, cleaning), catching up on all the shows I've DVR'd. By the end of the evening, I'm falling asleep with my laptop in my lap. Where did the time go???
So what do I do now?? Today is day 16 of Lent and I've written 8 entries (including this post). Do I give up now? Do I start over? Or do I just pick up from here and keep it moving until the end of the journey? I think you know by now the answer. It may not always be brilliant but I'm gonna try my hardest to complete this challenge with more than a 50% success rate. While the school systems these days may say 65% is passing, I don't even want that shit. (Sidebar: how the hell is one standard deviation above the median considered passing?? 65% on anything is nothing to be proud of. Thanks for lowering the standards so low that there is no pride in the quality of education anymore. *stepping down from soapbox.* Carry on)
I've stumbled but I'm working on picking myself back up. So please bear with me through this challenging journey. I should have known this wouldn't be easy.
I read this article yesterday. For those who are not inclined to tear themselves away from my wonderful site to read it, the article spoke of a certain republican radio talk show host who has a penchant for prescription pills and who's name rhymes with "Flush" making fun of what he thought was the President saying "ax" instead of "ask". I read the article (and listened to the audio clip) with disgust, but was immediately reminded of an incident in High School.
As you may know I went to a tony independent all girls schools in one of the wealthiest zip codes in Manhattan. My graduating class consisted of 24 girls, 5 of which were black (and shout out to the lone Puerto Rican in my class). To say I had a hard time adjusting is a gross understatement. Growing up in Harlem gave me somewhat of a thick skin but people expecting you to live up to the stereotypes of what it meant to be a black chick, growing up in Harlem in a single parent home was quite daunting (see why I ran to the best HBCU on the planet??? hahahaha). "No I don't know a good place to buy drugs in harlem" and "If you search my locker for a gun, I'm calling Al Sharpton!' were sentiments I actually had to utter at the age of 14. By the time senior year rolled around, I was numb. My scholarship was held over my head like a noose (I scored a perfect score on the entrance exam - my four year scholarship wasn't going anywhere as long as I didn't kill anyone), my mother had been insulted in my presence (I thought my mother was gonna have to smack a bitch but thankfully I know my mothers nonverbal cues and dragged her away immediately), and they stole my Cornsilk Cabbage Patch Kid (no I didn't walk around high school with a doll like a dork. I used her for a project on Africa, and got an A, thank you very much. ). Just when I thought nothing else could get to me, we had Senior Seminar, a weekly forum for all things pertinent to the graduating class, with the Headmistress of the entire school - the Chief Head Honcho. She was a nun, but unlike any nun I'd ever seen. She wore Gucci shoes and Prada bags.
When Senior Seminar was over, she called out for me to stay behind. My classmates looked at me like "What the hell did you do now?". Yeah I was sorta a rebel in high school but not criminal. I just questioned everything. But I had to ask myself, "Shit. What the hell did I do now?"
"Thank you for that wonderful insight on college visits. But there's something I noticed. You did this while you were speaking. You said 'ax' instead of 'ask'. And I've noticed it often when I'm around black people, whether they are doctors or captains of industry. You all say 'ax'. I don't know why that is but we must break you out of it."
I looked at her like she had 4 heads. I tried to deny this accusation of ebonic proportions as I straightened my navy crested prep school blazer but she just reiterated her point and added "I don't even think any of you realize you say it." At that moment, I had 2 choices. I could curse her out and storm out. However, it was senior year of high school and that definitely would have gotten me kicked out. And besides, while she didn't wear the habit and the squishy nun shoes, she was a nun nonetheless, and I knew cursing her out would only seal my fate and send me straight to the fiery gates of hell (we catholics are so dramatic when it comes to hell...hahahaha). Or I could suck it up, listen to this nonsense, and go about my merry way.
I chose the later. And I've always regretted it to a certain degree. It was so damn humiliating, sitting there saying "ask" over and over and over until she felt certain I wouldn't make the egregious mistake again. And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. There was no benefit of the doubt that maybe I stumbled over the sounds of my words (as a former speech therapist, I know that EVERYONE suffers from dysfluency in their speech at times, its the frequency and severity of that dysfluency that warrants therapeutic intervention, but I digress). She went straight for this "black dialect" that Mr. "Flush" speaks of and all the negative connotations that are embodied in that phrase.
So when I read this story, the entire incident came flooding back to me. I say to "Flush" as I wish I said to my headmistress all those years ago, "Go fuck yourself. For your information, in order for that slight of tongue to be considered part of the 'black dialect' or 'ebonics', there must be other rules used within the context of that sentence to qualify as such. You can't scream 'Hola' and present yourself as being fluent in Spanish. While controversial, this dialect you speak of has rules and patterns in which it is spoken, just like other dialects of other languages. And furthermore, how dare you go right to the race card. Why couldn't you give the benefit of the doubt of a slight slip of tongue, a case of fleeting speech dysfluency caused by words with similar sound patterns surrounding the word 'ask'? Would you have said the same if you heard a white person say what you believe to be 'ax'? Of course you wouldn't. You chose to focus on one tiny one syllable word, instead of focusing on the message of the entire speech. I don't have to call you racist. Your diatribe spoke for you. You can put your sheet back on now. Oh, and ummm Go fuck yourself".
* Whew that felt good!*
Since I've become active in my Alumnae Association over the last couple of years, I've run into the former Headmistress a few times at various events (she's also an alumna of the school). And oh how I wish I could call her out for the numerous slights against me, the color of my skin, and the lack of substance in my trust fund. But I play the game. I play it quite well actually. So well, that she wouldn't dare ASK me to participate in such nonsense again. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for "Flush". Oh, how I wish I could just flush them both down the toilet.
A: Dear Anonymous, Your question is so simple yet .......not so much. Have you ever seen the symbol for Pisces? If not, its a picture of 2 fish swimming, one swimming up, the other swimming down, essentially in opposite directions but somehow forming a circle. While you didn't ask for my astrological sign, this depiction captures my ideas of sexiness. There are times when I feel 'sexy" but my "sexiest"?? I'm lost. I don't believe I've reached that pinnacle in my life to say "At this very moment I feel my sexiest!" Somehow to me that implies that my sexy is going downhill from there. LOL
But to answer you're question, I've created a list of moments/instances when I feel pretty damn sexy. So without further ado, I present My Top 10 Sexay. (damn did I just let my fingertips commit to a list of 10...good grief!) Ummmm, Lets make this a Top 5 list instead, mmmkay?!! (Mind over fingers)
*this list is in no particular order.*
1. Dressed. I think I have a pretty good sense of fashion. But sometimes when I pull an outfit together with the right accessories, makeup is flawless, and hair is commercial worthy, I step out of the house feeling oh so sexy, like those Top Models have nothing on me. But if any one of these elements is out of sync, then not so much.
2. Nerd. At heart I'm a nerd. Really I am. I love to read about as much as I love to write. When I start reading a new book (or a classic - currently reading Pride and Prejudice - again), I feel sexy. Something about nourishing my mind is so empowering and so damn sexy to me. So lately when I sit on the train and I'm reading all the prim musings of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, I feel pretty damn sexy. And smart.
3. Home. As much as I like to glam it up when I step out the house, I am the complete opposite at home (hence the Pisces symbol). Sure I could feel sexy in the lacy, silky, naughty, frilly frocks in my third bottom drawer (and on occasion I do feel sexy in those things...hahahaa). But I love house shorts. LOVE THEM. In fact, I have a black pair with LOVE written right across the bootay. At home, with my glasses, cotton bootay shorts, and a wife beater, I feel ironically sexy. Truth be told there is nothing sexy about this outfit. At least I don't think there is. Funny, I am not a fan of wearing my glasses out of the house. I feel shy and introverted. But at home? I can't wait to put them on. Unless there's company. But that's another blog for another day.
4. Surprise. I feel sexy when I catch someone off guard in a good way. I've written about it before but when I got in Hustle's car with only my glasses, undies, and a raincoat on, it wasn't the fact that I was damn near nekkid that made me feel sexy. It was the fact that he had nooooo idea what I had going on that made me feel bold and sexy. I believe its the element of surprise - the element of "that's the last thing I would ever expect her to do" - which makes surprises like this one so sexy.
5. Shoes. If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you know I LOVE SHOES. I would say shoes are my crack but that would make them so low class, so I will say shoes are my prescription pain pills. Slipping my manicured feet into a high heel shoe and watching my foot mold into the shoe is heaven. Then seeing my calf muscles flex under the smoothness of my skin because of the heel of the shoe is damn near orgasmic. I could wear a paper bag, but as long as I had on a sexy pair of heels, I feel my entire being would scream sex appeal. Right now, I am crushing HARD on these babies:
Carlos Santana. {might be my birthday shoe}
6. His. (Yeah I know I said Top 5 but its my blog, my rules to break.) Anytime I wear something that belongs to a guy, I feel incredibly sexy. His (clean) boxers, a tshirt, his button down shirt as a robe, his neck tie a la Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, anything that belongs to him. Since I tend to like guys who are tall, their clothes dwarf me and give me a petite sexy feeling. I've hijacked a few shirts in my day and sleep in them from time to time (well the ones that aren't rotting in somebody's landfill).
Okay so apparently, its easier to write this blog during the week than it is on the weekend. As you can tell from my previous post, Saturday was a not a day for writing. And Sunday, I didn't even attempt to pour my words through my fingertips.
If he still reads he's gonna kill me, but I spoke with Hustle on Saturday. We've been engaged in a game of phone/IM/text tag, and finally we spoke for damn near 3 hours. That's one of the things I love about he and I. We don't have to speak everyday but when we do, there is such a natural ebb and flow to the conversation its damn near effortless.
But on Saturday, he rendered me speechless. He informs me that he won't make any of the birthday festivities to which I've invited him. And of course, I immediately get an attitude. "WHATCHUMEANYOU'RENOTCOMING?"
If you know me, or have been reading this for a while, you know my birthday is the most important holiday on the calendar. And yes, I said holiday. I really truly from the bottom of my heart believe my birthday should be a national holiday - complete with a day off from work, a parade and an insane sale. But I digress.
Initially, he tried to laugh it off with jokes about forgetting my birthday (blasphemy) and not noticing that he wasn't around. I was buying it. "WHATCHUMEANYOU'RENOTCOMING?"
"I'm having surgery the day before."
I fumbled and dropped the phone. In that instant it took me to catch the phone before it dropped, I was dumbfounded. Surgery. WHATCHUMEANSURGERY
He laughed and joked about how I thought of him as invincible. He's right. This is the man who accosted me by the bathroom at a club during my darkest hour and forced me to dance the night away and laugh when I didn't think I could. This is the man who rescued me from the demons I struggled with after the end of my toxic relationship. WHATCHUMEANSURGERY
While respecting his privacy, I will say its not major surgery, an outpatient procedure where he can leave once he comes out from under the anesthesia. But still its surgery. I tried to remain calm on the telephone but he could tell I was FREAKING OUT. I should have been reassuring him that he's going to be fine but he was the one reassuring me.
After a few awkward moments, the conversation returned to the normal ebb and flow. I looked at the clock and realized I was supposed to be somewhere 2 hours earlier. For the first time ever, getting off the phone with each other felt awkward. Usually one of us makes a snide comment (him) to which the other (me) responds and then we both laugh, never saying "Goodbye."
For the past couple of days this has been on my mind. When I arrived at my friends house, I tried to push it out of my mind and enjoy some rum punch with my girls, but it kind of sat there right next to me on the sofa. When my phone suffered a temporary battery cardiac arrest and died (as in I needed a battery transplant), I thought of not being able to get in touch with him. I'm keenly aware of not being in touch with him, when normally he and I can go weeks without speaking on the phone.
To everyone looking in, we have the strangest relationship - something out of a novel or a TV show (shit one of my friends call us Carrie and Big). But suddenly, one little world have thrown us into reality. Surgery.
Please note: I'm writing this after three (maybe 4) glasses of rum punch, so if I ramble, please forgive me. But please also note and give me props for my dedication to my 40 day challenge. :)
Now back to the regularly scheduled program.
Can I just say I'm a lil tipsy right now and the thought of writing this blog is hilarious to me. hahhahaha
Ooh damnit, we're about to watch The Hangover. How can I resist watching this movie this tipsy???
(remember my original dislclaimer....some of these entries will suck...hahahahah)
Damn, who drank all the rum punch! Somebody needs to make some more.......
As I approached the turnstile, I heard someone over by the token booth call out my name. I looked over to see a gentleman smiling in my direction. It took a quick second but I recognized him. I smiled and walked over.
"Heyyyy. You don't remember me?!" "Man, shut up. Of course I remember you!" I replied as we embraced.
"How are you?" I asked. If his appearance was any indication, he was doing quite well for himself. Smooth mahogany skin accented with the precision of a freshly trimmed goatee. His coat hung and fell in all the right places. Stylishly dressed but not overtly metro-sexual.
"I'm doing well. You must be doing well." he said as he too gave me the once over.
We laughed.
"Hey, are you heading downtown?"
I nodded as we both walked over to the turnstile and swiped our Metrocards to allow us entry to the platform.
"Cool so we can really catch up." he replied with a megawatt Colgate grin.
Damn, was his smile always that perfect?? I asked myself just as the train pulled into the station.
As the train snaked its way downtown, he brought me up to speed on what had been going on in his life since I last saw him in my teen years. This neighborhood boy had done well for himself, traveled the world, built his career. With so much grit surrounding us, it's touching to see a fellow neighborhood kid rise above it all.
With only 2 stations away from my departing stop, he asked if we could keep in touch, "you know if that's okay?"
I laugh at his not so subtle way of asking for my number and pull out my phone since yes it was okay for us to keep in touch.
"What stop are you getting off?" As I dropped my phone back in my purse, I looked up and replied "Ummm, the next one."
"Oh, okay. Hey, can I ask you a question?" "Sure!" I mentally start running my calendar through my mind, because surely this handsome man is about to ask me out on a date.
"Do you ever think about our night together? I do." he whispered. "Our night??" "Yes. our. night." he said with a raised eyebrow a la The Rock. "Uhhhhh, we had sex???!!!" Damn, did I say that out loud?!
By the look on his face, that was not the answer he was expecting. Foot, meet mouth. But I really don't remember this night he speaks of. Just as I was about to mentally run down, "my list", the train pulled into my departing station. I gathered my things and waved goodbye. He looked crushed but there was no time to repair the damage of my outburst. I blurted out "I'll call you". We both knew that shit wasn't gonna happen.
Now you decide:
FACT OR FICTION
*by fact, it could be my truth or someone else's truth as told to me OR it could all be a fig newton of my imagination. Either way, what do you think - FACT OR FICTION????!!! ;)
Q: When was the last time you really, really cared about someone deeply? ~ Anonymous
A: Dear Anonymous, I don't know what it is about these formspring questions, but a song or a lyric from a song pops into my head each time I read one. This time it was
"have you ever tried sleeping with a broken heart? / Well you should try sleepin' in my bed..."
No that's not an invitation to luxuriate in my 400 thread count. Also, that's not to say that I'm perpetually with a broken heart. But for some reason, it was that song that passed through my mind as I contemplated how I could possibly answer your question.
To be honest, I don't know when was the last time I cared for someone as deeply as your questions suggests. I'm gonna assume that you are talking about a love interest and not family member or a friend or a friend's baby that I just can't get enough of.
See, I know my capacity to care, to love is deep. I've seen glimpses of that capacity in certain relationships. And those glimpses frighten me because I know how much more I could give of myself. So I've never completely and totally just let go and allowed myself to feel for someone as deeply as I believe your question implies. Have I loved? Of course I have but I always felt like I was holding back, leaving a reserve for myself, protected from the dangers of rejection and complete heartbreak and devastation.
But. There was someone. A special someone. Someone I believed would.......... well, let's just say a friend. Who I thought that I could open up to. Completely. No reserve. So I tested the waters. And said things I never thought I would ever have the courage to say out loud. Opened the floodgates and allowed the emotions to flow.
And nothing. Nada. Zilch. I haven't heard from him since. I must admit it hurts because I thought we were better friends than that - the kind of friends who could talk through anything. I stepped out of my shell and exposed a part of me that is not readily available to the viewing audience. And I'm proud of myself for doing so. It means that I'm getting comfortable with my feelings. It means I'm trusting faith enough to step out on its ledge. Even if it seems as though I've lost a friend in the process.
All of that to say, I don't know when was the last time I really, really cared about someone as deeply as your question implies. But I'm looking forward to when that time comes. I'll be sure to let you know when that happens.
Smoochies,
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Keep the questions flowing. http://www.formspring.me/ButterflyRefuge I can only answer what you ask. And I'll answer every question (don't get freaky though..well not too freaky..)
Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent - the time of year where Catholics all around the world wear the badge of sacrifice. All week, people have been asking me "What are you giving up for Lent?". I contemplated giving up alcohol but my birthday is in exactly 2 weeks. Lets be real. My birthday without booze is no bueno. Even Jesus knows that. I thought about giving up meat again, but at this point it doesn't feel like a "sacrifice" since I barely eat anything but seafood. I may eat chicken, beef and/or pork MAYBE once a week. I even toyed with the idea of going on a shopping freeze, where I would only shop for essentials like food, toothpaste, etc. and nothing else for 40 days. But my mother's birthday is in 10 days and I don't think she'd appreciate groceries or toothpaste for a birthday present. Not to mention (again), my birthday is in 14 days and I'm going to need a few outfits for the festivities, and I need to buy my birthday panties (Sidebar: Am I the only one who buys new undies to wear specifically on the day when I was born without them??). And not to mention, I have to buy myself a bday gift. See, no shopping isn't going to work for me, unless Lent falls after my birthday. Sure I could have planned better and shopped before today but clearly that ain't happen.
So what's this butterfly to do??
I've given some real thought to this and instead of thinking of this time of year as a time od sacrifice, I would like to think of it as a time of challenge - a challenge to step out of my comfort zone, a challenge to push my self-imposed boundaries, a challenge to make me a better me. Part of this challenge is my writing. I haven't been as dedicated to my writing as I should be. I waste a lot of time daily, and at the end of the day I say, "damn I should have blogged today" or "damn, I could have finished that chapter today". So instead of excuses, for the next 40 days of Lent. I will write. DAILY. That's right, this Resident Butterfly is going to blog everyday for the next 40 days. Saturdays and Sundays included. The heart of this challenge is committing the time to do so. Outside of work, I have the worst time management. I struggle to apply all of the professional techniques and strategies I've mastered to my personal when it comes to managing my time. So by challenging myself to this 40 day Writing Challenge, I'm forcing myself to prioritize my time by making sure at some point during the day, I'm writing both for the blog and for the book.
I know this is going to be hard for me (that's what she said...hahahahaha). And I'd like to put the disclaimer out there now. There will be some entries that suck (she said that too...hahahahahaa). I will do my best to write brilliant prose and musings but realistically, I'm not sure that can happen on a daily basis for the next 40 days. But I'm willing to try. I don't know if this is the faith that Jesus spoke of that I'm supposed to be stepping out on but I'm afraid if I don't do this now, my dream of author may end up in a Langston Hughes poem. I have enough regrets in my life. I don't want to add my dreams of writing to that pile of regrets. It's time to get serious about my passion for words.
Another disclaimer. Q 4 a B-Fly, my ask me anything segment, will still be a feature as long as you ask the questions in that box to your right. And I promise I won't only answer questions for the next 40 days either. That's kinda like cheating. But I kinda like the idea too. Maybe its something to consider after I've completed this challenge. Damnit, getting sidetracked already. LOL
Oh, and yes today's entry counts. So, 39 more to go. I hope you'll enjoy this ride with me. Damn, that's what she said too......hahahahahhaa
Q: How many times a day do you think of that "special" someone? ~ Anonymous
A: Dear Anonymous, Please don't be offended, but when I read this question I had to laugh out loud - FOR REAL. No LOL inside my head laugh but a real true hardy -har. I laughed because currently there is no "special" someone in my life. Well except for me. I've been single for a while. But don't cry for me, Argentina. I date.
However, I must admit that the guys I date cross my mind throughout the day. Something usually triggers a memory - someone will say something that alludes to an inside joke, a taste from a meal, a song we danced to playing on Pandora, a whiff of a cologne my olfactory has been acquainted with. Anything my cerebrum has attached to thoughts of that person. I'll smile and keep it moving. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I was that chick who wonders endlessly "Is he thinking of me?" "Oh, I wonder what he's doing right now." I was once in a relationship with a guy who was concerned because I didn't call him during the day at work. When I responded, "Ummm because you're at work and I'm at work?!" He seemed to be offended that I wasn't thinking of him during the day enough to reach out and call. I was teaching at the time. My focus was the 600 kids I was responsible for - not the big baby sitting in a downtown office. Clearly, this relationship didn't last long. Is that harsh??
But memories have a funny way of seeping into your everyday. Just because the men I date have yet to earn the "special" someone title, it doesn't mean that random thoughts of them don't evoke a smile, or a warm fuzzy fleeting feeling. But that's only if there in my good graces. If we're at a place without conflict. Otherwise, any memory, no matter how endearing, how touching, how funny will get the quintessential "side eye". I can't give in to those warm fuzzies if conflict is in the air. Is that harsh??
Now, to answer your question. If I classify myself as that "special someone", well damn, I think about me all the time, so much so I can't even count how many times daily. I wonder what the future holds for "us". I plan "our" next step. I ponder ways to make "us" happy. And if I'm going to be truthful, sometimes, not often, just sometimes, I wonder who that other "special" someone will be. I wonder what it will feel like to be with him. And wonder if maybe I will pick up the phone occasionally during the day, just to say "Hi. I was thinking of you."
Sincerely,
PS After laughing, the first line of this song popped into my mind. So I had to listen to it. And then I had to share.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The questions are great. Keep them coming. Post your questions in the box to your right or go directly to http://www.formspring.me/ButterflyRefuge
Stress and hormones don't mix. Worse than oil and water. Worse than Kool-aid and champagne. Worse than Mo'Nique and Nair.
Seriously, this week my mood has been all over the place. I think I have traveled the emotional continent on a world tour in the past week. Crying at the drop of a Kleenex over things I don't normally cry about. I cursed out a cabbie (well, he deserved it but I went IN on my tirade). I've been non-social (and you KNOW that's not me). I conjured up all kinds of not-suitable for the viewing audience blogs. Luckily, a hint of my sanity remained because I would hear her say "Bitch you can't publish that?! What the hell is wrong with you?" I, too, had to wonder "what the hell is wrong with me?"
On one hand I'm stressed. Yeah, this corporate divorce and subsequent corporate jumpoff status has wreaked havoc on my finances, my plans, my life in general. I dread going to the plantation (as I call it now). Then most days the job posting suck stinky monkey balls. Like really you expect me to do all of that for less than my 1st job salary??!! Ummm, yeah, NO! Add that to other life stressors - family, dating, my booty (yes my booty stresses me out..I feel like I'm a cheeseburger away from being thrust into a Jenny C.r.a.i.g commercial against my will just because I'm a fatty).
So add to the stress, the torrential hormonal flux of The Lady Bug (as I call that time) and you have the recipe for an emotional roller coaster - complete with twists and turns, and death defying drops. I'll admit to PMS - I get a lil moody (mostly just quiet and introspective), the girls feel like cannonballs on my chest (those who know me, know these chicks ain't NO WHERE near cannonball size), I crave salty snacks (give me my Honey BBQ, Salt & Vinegar, Onion & Garlic potato chips. Not all together but if you love me, you will make sure I have a supply of at least 2 varieties once a month). This is all "the usual" for me. But this week coupled with the stress, I've felt like someone else. Everything was exaggerated. When my reactions should have been a 2, I felt they were a 10. You know how every damn thing is over-dramatized on the soaps?? Well I felt like Erica Kane this week, queen of the over-drama.
I can't live like this. I've lived with the PMS since the awkward big booty teen years, so that I can manage (as long as I have my chips! hahahaha). But the stress??!!! Sheeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiit, this bitch called stress has got to go. She needs to be evicted from my life ASAP, like YESTERDAY!! I try not to get overwhelmed and normally, I manage the bitch quite well. But when Stress and Lady Bug meet for a playdate, all hell breaks loose. And while I'm not a control freak, I like to be in control of what I say, control of what I do.
So I'm looking for ways to either eliminate the stress or distract me from it. I know primarily, I have to change the situation with this job bull. I know that when I find a gig that I respect, enjoy, and gives me nice satisfying corporate orgasms (paychecks"), I will feel more at peace. But in the meantime, I need to create the peace for myself. I'm just not sure how. But I know damn well, I will need to figure this out in the next 3 weeks or so. If not, I'll be writing another crazy WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME/YA'LL MIGHT WANNA HAVE ME COMMITTED blog, and while I love a cute white spring jacket, uhhhh straitjackets won't go with anything in my closet.
PS I thought yesterday was Tuesday and sat down to write Q 4 a B-Fly. When I found out it wasn't Tuesday, I damn near cried and stopped writing my response to the next question. See??!! A MESS!!! hahahahaha I'll finish either tonight or tomorrow. I won't let the week pass without answering your questions. They really are fascinating. Smoochies,
Q: How do I let him go or better, how do I move on? ~ Anon
A: So you want me to tackle the hard stuff, eh? Okay, by no means am I a relationship expert but I happen to know a thing or two about letting go of foolishness and moving forward. And by foolishness, I am not trying to belittle what you are going through. I'm just at a point in my life where, looking back, it was a whole lot of foolishness I've endured over the years. And hopefully, one day, you will label it as foolishness as well.
So how do you let him go?? At the end of a relationship, someone is left holding the bag - the bag of dreams deferred, the bag of emotions, the bag of whys and how did this happen, the bag of hurt. And unfortunately, in this situation you're it. Like Ms. Badu sang, "Bag lady, you're gone hurt your back/Dragging all them bags like that". My experience has taught me that creating closure is like spring cleaning for your heart, an opportunity to dump these bags and lighten your load. You're seeking closure and this person will never give it to you. EVER. No answer he gives will ever be a good enough reason for breaking your heart. Start off by packing up everything that reminds you of said ex - the cards, the pictures, the cute undies in his favorite color, ALL OF IT. Next, write him a letter. Tell him exactly how you feel. I don't care if it makes War and Peace look like a pamphlet. Take your time and GET IT ALL OUT. Every point you want to make, no matter how hurtful, how silly, how petty it may be. The point is to purge. However, you are to NAYVER mail this letter. Place the letter in the box with your relationship mementos and hide it from yourself. Put it in the back of your closet, out in your garage, your parents basement, somewhere where you won't see it everyday. One day, when you're ready you will open the box and will no longer feel the same, so you will be comfortable with throwing out its contents (and buy you some new panties in YOUR favorite color. hahahaha).
Whenever I've gone through my "moving on" phase at the termination of my girlfriend policy, I thought of it as a competition between the offending ex and I. Instead of my teammate, he became my opponent. Whenever I felt down, I felt like he was winning and hell if I wanted him to beat me in this "game". I know this sounds silly but it helped because I would acknowledge the sadness and do whatever I had to do to move past it, similar to how a football team identifies the play of the opposing team and does whatever the hell they can to stop them from gaining yardage (I know this is a weak sports analogy but give me some credit for trying, okay *wink*). Every happy memory of "us" was replaced with how he treated me in the end. Now, I can look back on fun times with some of my exes but its devoid of the emotional attachment attributed to that memory. It takes time to get to that place though. "Remember him at the end" became my mantra after each breakup until I got through and got over.
Next up, dating. Yes, I know dating is scary. But its a necessary evil in this love journey of life. It's so easy to hold on to the love we had. But I had to learn that the love you had will not call you, just to say "hi" (unless he's a stalker; another story for another day). The love you had won't compliment you on your new hairstyle/outfit/career accomplishments; it won't take your car for an oil change; it won't keep you warm at night. By not dating or, even worse, comparing each date to the ex you are robbing yourself of any opportunity to grow and move on (sidebar: if your ex was all that great to be the barometer by which you measure everyone else, he would still be with you. So he ain't that great.). And trust and believe me when I say, you will meet some sorry ass dudes who will make you want to curse your ex out and gouge his eyes out for making you a single woman again who has to go out and meet these losers (do you remember my chaperoned date??!! LOL). BUT you will also meet some really nice guys that even for one night, you will fall asleep thinking about someone other than him. So, you have to be open to it. Sometimes, someone else helps. And that someone else doesn't have to be "The One", he can be "The One for Right Now".
This may not work for everyone, but I started dating IMMEDIATELY after my last breakup. Not on some "he got a boo so let me get one too" mission. For me, I didn't want my ex to be the last guy I laughed with, the last one I shared a nice meal with, the last one I kissed, the last one I....well, you get the point. He didn't deserve that distinction. But again, I think that speaks to that competitiveness I spoke of before. I didn't go out often but enough to see that I was gonna be just fine (cue Mary).
Some other tips include: 1. Change his name in your phone. Change it to something that will remind you not to answer if he calls or not to lose your dignity by calling him. 2. Find a non-relationship outlet. For me, it has always been writing. Take a kickboxing class, paint, study Arabic, anything to focus your energy elsewhere. 3. PRAY. I know this should have been first but PRAY, girl!!! Whatever your spiritual center is, turn to it. Pray, meditate, chant, whatever you have to do, do it. I prayed everyday the same prayer - to get me through the hurt, the pain, and to smile again. And when that prayer was answered I prayed for something else. 4. Seek help outside of your friends. As much as we love and rely on our friends, sometimes they can barely help themselves, let alone help you. And really, after a while, they get tired of hearing about your same shit over and over. Seriously, pay someone to listen. If you feel that you're just not coping, seek therapy. Therapy doesn't make you crazy. Not seeking professional help, however, does. A trained professional will help you identify why you aren't letting go and provide you with the tools to move on.
People often say "Time heals all wounds". Well I disagree somewhat. I say "Time coupled with action heals all wounds." Time alone can drag on and leave you right where you stand if you don't do anything about it. I read a quote the other day (and posted it on the book of Face).
"I have found that if you love life, life will love you right back." ~Arthur Rubinstein
I hope this helps. Like I said, I'm not a relationships expert (aka "don't sue me"). But keep me posted on your progress.
Smoochies, The Resident Butterfly
PS You know I had to post this right.....LOL
and this....LOL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What else do you want to ask?? Ask, ask, ask away!!! Go to http://www.formspring.me/ButterflyRefuge or just enter your question in the box to your right. Keep asking and I'll keep answering. :)
Oh and yes I know this post is late. As you can tell from the date, I started this with all intentions to finish it on time for Tuesday. There is just a lot going on right now and I'm working on managing my time better. I hope you understand. If not, kick rocks sucka!!! hahahahahahaha
?: Who is the guy guru you speak of, and how did he get that title? ~ Anonymous
A: This question is so on time. My Guy Guru's birthday is tomorrow (Jan. 20) and what better way to celebrate him than by posting an entire blog about him (ummmm you know this means you ain't getting a gift, right?! hahahahahaha)!!
My Guy Guru is my friend, Rashad. While we met at our illustrious HOME BY THE SEA, we weren't friends until years later. I sometimes wonder what kind of friends we would be if we were as close then as we are now but I'm just glad he's around now. Neither one of us remembers how we met. It was more or less the "we go to a school in the South so we have to speak to everyone we pass on campus unless you slept with my man/woman, then I don't have to speak to your ho ass" introduction. We knew a few of the same people (one of his roomates was my Big Brother) so I knew him in passing. But somehow over the years that pleasant "Hey" has grown into him being my Guy Guru. I often describe his personality as the Black Larry David. If you watch Curb Your Enthusiasm, you get what the picture. If not, what the hell is wrong with you?? That show is hilarious. hahahahaha Basically, Larry says/does all kinds of inappropriate/non-social shit BUT its never malicious, and underneath it all, he has a good heart.
Guy Guru started as a blog name. Since at the time everyone was getting one, why shouldn't Rashad?? But it totally fits him. Like totally. To call him simply a "friend" would be like calling Kareem Abdul Jabbar simply a basketball player. He is like my brother, without the sibling rivalry, I'm tellin Mom/Dad on you bullshit. When I'm trying to figure out guys, I call Rashad. When I'm need to bounce an idea of someone, I email Rashad. When I need to vent because someone has thoroughly PISSED ME OFF...yep, I hit up Rashad. Oh and its definitely reciprocated. Through the years, he has been here for me. Making me laugh when I want to cry; encouraging me when I want to give up; listening to me say the most asinine shit without judgement. So before I shits on the bitch (private joke when either of us gets too mushy..guess who we got it from?), he is the best dude in my corner. As a matter of fact, you guys can thank him for this here blog page. He has a blog and inspired me to start this page. He is my most faithful reader (and commenter) to date.
I think every girl should have a Guy Guru, a male friend you can turn to when seeking advice on their brethren. Because let me tell you, Rashad has hipped me to somethings that I NAYVER thought about from the male perspective. But there are rules to this shit (I swear I'm cursing more in this blog because of Rashad. All for you, buddy...hahahahahaa).
1. Your guy guru has to be a man you have no desire to see nekkid. Seriously, you can't cloud your friendship with thoughts of "I wonder what it would be like to kiss/lick/suck/f*ck". This is not to say my guy guru isn't attractive. Quite the opposite. However, I've never looked at him in that way. Ever.
2. You have to know your role. He is my friend. Not my man. As a matter of fact, he has a woman. So I'm not calling him all hours of the night. I'm not sending provocative pics of myself. While we can have quite colorful conversations, we have boundaries. Once (at band camp), I spent the night at the apartment he shares with his lady. I could have worn a burqa and been less covered up. Sure I had to reach waaaaay back into my dresser to pull out big ass pajama pants, an oversized shirt and a robe but its about respect. I respect our friendship. I respect our boundaries.
3. You have to be willing to listen. He and I may not agree on everything but we have both provided each other with valuable insights into how the opposite sex thinks. Not to say that every man thinks like Rashad (thank God...hahahahaha), but generally speaking I know more about how men think now than I did before Rashad's insight.
4. Most importantly, find someone you trust. Lets just say if either of us ran for office, the other would have a sweeeeeet cabinet position to compensate for that lucrative tell all book deal we would be missing out on.
So there you have it. My Guy Guru. If you don't already check out his blog, please do. He writes way more frequently that I do (showoff).
HAPPY BIRTHDAY RASHAD!!! YOU'RE THE BEST GUY GURU A BUTTERFLY COULD ASK FOR. I LOVE YOU, MANNNN!!!! (now proceed to shits on the bitch!!! hahahahahahahah)
(Me, ?uestLove of The Roots, Guy Guru. Fun fact: 2 people in this photo have the same birthday. The one with breasts is not one of the 2!! hahahaa HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GUYS!! Oh and I made this picure black and white because I was wayyy to light bright in this picture. I look like an albino standing next to these chocolate brothers. hahahahahahaha)
*keep the questions flying my way. I know there is something you're dying to ask me. Enter your question in the box in the right hand corner, or submit it directly at http://www.formspring.me/ButterflyRefuge
Oh and I have a few blogs I'm working on. I promise I won't only do Q 4 a B-fly posts. Life's been a lil hectic later. Smoochies.
Q: So what happened to dude from Starbucks? - Anonymous
Resident B-Fly: I knew I would have to do a follow-up on this one. For those who may not know the story, click here.
In preparing to respond to this question, I realized that I don't talk about my dating life as much. I will mention a guy, give him a blog name, and then POOF! Banished to blog purgatory -the place where the words are formed but never published. Occasionally, I may reference them or hint of their existing existence in my life, but that's it. So I shouldn't be surprised that one of you wanted to know what happened with Mr. Mink aka "dude from Starbucks".
Well, I've gone out a few times with Mr. Mink ( I'm really thinking of changing his blog name to Starbucks Dude...hahahaa). We had a Barnes & Nobles date (he sat down to read one of my favorite children's books. sweet). We've gone to a couple of nice restaurants (including one where the table of guys sitting next to us hit on me when he got up to use the restroom. I still can't believe that one). He gave me the most beautiful roses on Christmas Eve. Totally unexpected. Simply thoughtful. (never knew I was a "flower" girl, but I smiled everyday until they died)
Sooo...........
I don't know. I will say he's unlike any dude I've ever dated. He's really quiet, damn near shy. And for those that know me, know quiet and shy are not attributes that jump out at you when thinking of me. So needless to say, sometimes talking to him feels like a speech therapy session trying to elicit more than a 2 word utterance. But then he has moments where he's sooo forthcoming and verbose, I think I'm talking to someone else. I almost think he stores his ideas like a chipmunk.
I just don't know. I can't peg him. He's sweet, he's kind, he's thoughtful, he's funny (when he's in a loquacious mood), he's attentive (the details he remembers is mind blowing). But??? Damn, its even hard to put in words. Okay, I'm not sure if he wants to date me or be my friend. No, that's not it. He has said at least that much - that he's interested in me. There's something that's.......off (for lack of a better term). Not off in terms of red flags being raised. But just.........different. Not a bad different, just different.
Maybe this is just an adjustment. Every guy I date doesn't have to have such a big......ego (what did you think I was gonna say??? hahahaha). Maybe that's it. I tend to date guys with big personalities, so much that I tend to be quiet around them. But as one of my girls pointed out recently, "both of you can't always have big personalities. You need someone mellow to balance you out." Hmmmm, that is something to consider. I guess.
So to answer your question, Starbucks dude aka Mr. Mink is still in the picture. I hope I won't need an IV of Starbucks just to figure him out.
Keep the questions coming. Wanna know something? Anything? Ask @ http://www.formspring.me/ButterflyRefuge or type your question directly in the box to your right. . This will be a regular Tuesday feature until you guys stop asking questions!
Yes, 2 posts back to back! But this is more of an announcement than a regular post so I'm not sure if it counts. Now that I think about it, HELLLLLL YEAH IT COUNTS. I still wrote it. hhahahahahaa
With this being a new year and all, I decided to add a new feature to the blog. If you look to your right you will see a new site addition, Questions for a Butterfly. This is your opportunity to ask me ANYTHING. You want a followup about something I wrote before, ASK. You want to know "what ever happened to ____?", ASK. You want advice about something, ASK. You want to ask me some random, existential damn now I have to think about this kind of question, ASK. Just type your question in that box and click send. You can even be anonymous. You can also go to this site, http://www.formspring.me/ButterflyRefuge and ask your questions directly.
This will be a weekly blog column, "Q 4 a B-fly", where I will answer at least one question (could be more depending on answer length). I can't wait to see what you guys want me to answer. Let's see how long I can keep this going. hahahahaa
I know, I know, I know this is uber late and before you write me off, give me the side eye, smack me a la Rick James in a Dave Chapelle skit, pull a gun on me a la Mr. Arenas (allegedly), let me explain. On New Years Eve, I got sick. Really really sick. Like sicker than I've ever been in my life. Instead of sipping the champagne bubbly, I was sipping the seltzer bubbly. I'll spare you the gruesome details but lets just say publishing a blog was not high on the priority list that day. Thankfully, whatever ailed me left (along with about 6 pounds) and I'm beginning to feel like my butterfly self.
So without further mention of my medical exorcism (whatever that was, it was EVIL I tell you...hahaha), here's the 2nd half of my Book of Face updates.
JUNE (of course I know I covered June in my last post but there was more to say. I'm taking liberty with mine, okay?! Sue me. hahahahah) * "Someone left a Granny Smith apple (my fave) on my desk and no one is copping to it. I'm not eating this. I saw what happened to Snow White. LOL " * "We blamed it on the boogie before we blamed it on the alcohol. RIP MJ" *"is a dancin' dancin' dancin'....DANCIN MACHINE!!! WATCH ME GET DOWN!! Heels on flip flops in the purse - All for you, MJ!" *"Okay, so when my cab driver gets back in the taxi and stops arguing with the guy behind us, THEN I'll be a dancin' machine! LMAO" *"It's official. I can't watch the BET AWARDS without commentary from my FB friends. I CAIN'T! " {real talk: logging on to FB and watching the awards "together" with my friends has been a hilarious experience. It's like one mega conference call or a supersize living room with everyone gathered in front of the TV}
JULY 1. "just had a workout on the beach. cha cha slide, cupid shuffle, dollar whine...whew!!" {Martha's Vineyard; that party on the beach was sooo much fun} 2. "Home Sweet Home. Wine Chilled Wine." {I need this on a plaque, hanging in my home. Seriously.} 3. "There is a free ice cream event in my office lobby for all workers in building. Who set this up? Satan?? LOL"
AUGUST 1. "is on my way to the John Legend concert at MSG....for FREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" {did I write about this concert?? It was great. I completely underestimated John Legend} 2. "ummmm Naked Yoga?? and you want me to rent a towel and mat??" {a friend sent me a link to a place for yoga. yes naked yoga. while the nekkidness doesn't particularly bother me, the towel and mat rental do. } 3. "Its easy to pray for those you love and care for. Lord, give me the strength and humility to pray for all the others."
SEPTEMBER 1. "Ummmm, if you're a bum on the street begging for a dollar (a dollar! whatever happened to "some change"?), guess how much of my money you're getting if you stop your sob story to answer your cell phone?? Take a wild guess? lol" {yet another 'Only in New York' true story. hahahaha} 2. "DAMNIT KANYE." {MTV Award debacle. no further explanation necessary} 3. "Letting your toddler run around the airport barefoot is swine flu-tastic. FAIL!" {If I wasn't running for a plane, I swear I would have reported that mother. Swine flu is all over the damn news and she lets her toddler run around the ENTIRE TERMINAL barefoot. Now if that ain't child endangerment, I don't know what is.}
OCTOBER 1. "If you can afford the $2.25 to get on the bus, you can afford a bar of soap!! This is nasal assault. DAMN!" 2. "Public Service Announcement: Certain songs shouldn't blast from your earphones while on a crowded corporate elevator. A certain song by Akinyele that came out in the 90s is one of them." 3. "Walked in the rain for a good cause - Making Strides against Breast Cancer. If survivors can endure chemo/radiation, I can endure the rain. "
NOVEMBER 1. "is gem rich. I may not have millions in the bank or any of the trappings of wealth (yet), but the Lord decided to bless me with the most amazing friends, my precious gems. I could say more but I'll stop now....Love you guys!" {written after a long night with my girls. I swear I love my friends more than I could ever tell them} 2. "has come this far by faith...leaning on the Lord....trusting in His holy Word....He's never failed me yet!!!! The Lord has seen me through many many obstacles and I trust He will see me through this one as well. Keep praying and keep moving.... {Day of Corporate Divorce notification} 3. "REAL TALK: Jermaine looks like Nipsy Russell as the Tin Man in The Wiz." {most commented on status update. hahahahahaa}
Honorable Mentions: *'Oh Whitney!!! I will always love the skinny because I'm skinny and not strung out, big weave pink lipstick wearing, ohhh I wanna dance with somebody, baby you give good love Whitney. This Whitney is the new egg in the frying pan PSA for drug use. * le sigh *" *"whoever had the bright idea to sell tuna fish sammiches at dunkin donuts should be fired" {if that's not the nastiest combination. why would I go to a store I frequent for donuts and such for a tuna fish sammich???} * "Mom quote: 'Oh I like this Chrisette girl. She can sing, not like that other one (Keri Hilson). All she did is move her hips. Is that all you need to make a record?? If that's the case, you go make a record. ' Gee thanks, Mother. LMAO"
DECEMBER 1. "Now I know why this bus was $5. It's the Senior Citizen special. I think I'm the square root of these folks' ages. Lord, I pray I arrive to DC safely and not smelling like Ben Gay." {I know I didn't write about it, but I went back to DC. Just overnight for a career opportunity. Still haven't seen if it was worth the trip yet but I'm optimistic. And yes, one way from the Big Apple to Chocolate City was a whopping $5} 2. "is at the Hiro Ballroom waiting for CORRINE BAILEY RAE to hit the stage. Viva the spontaneity of my life!" {I actually started a blog about this night but never finished it. That was a beautiful concert. I almost cried but beautiful none the less.} 3. is fighting the urge to eat this bread pudding in my fridge. Its calling me. I'm hanging up!" {I made this really delish amaretto bread pudding. I've been baking a lot lately. I know there's a meaning in here somewhere.}
So that's was my 2009. Looking back, there was soooo much that happened in my life this year, both good and not so good. I'm grateful for it all though. Each opportunity, each thought, each smile, each tear was a chance for this butterfly to spread my wings and live. I don't thank you guys enough but thanks for continuing to read. I will do my best to be a better blogger this year. This is not a New Years Resolution. It's what I need and want to do. Smoochies. ;)
Some of you are my friends on the Book of Face. Some of you aren't. Some of you didn't even know I subscribed to this site. Well I do. A Pirate friend of mine (Hampton U Pirate, not taking over your ship and demanding ransom kind of pirate) had this cool application on his page, which gathers all of your status updates in 2009. I'm not one for the silly applications on the Book of Face (really?? grown ass people with their mafia and farming fantasies?? Didn't we stop that with Old McDonald and Cops & Robbers???). But this one was a collection of my thoughts. How could I not love it??
So as 2009 draws to a close, I thought this would probably be the best way to wrap up my year. Once I downloaded the application, I had over 50 pages of updates. DAMMMMN I had a lot to say in 500 characters or less. And while I'm known for being wordy, even I won't subject you to read every single thought. I'm thinking more of a TOP 3 of each month. Some I will explain. Some need no explanation.
JANUARY (in no particular order) 1. "[Resident Butterfly's government name] wonders why do they send a man to clean the woman's bathroom? And why does he get an attitude when I have to "go"? LOL " 2. "Does anyone else wonder how the Secret Service stays warm with no hat, no gloves, no scarf?? And where can I buy whatever they have?" {Inauguration Day wondering} 3. "just saw a crackhead give another crackhead a pedicure on the train. Nail file and all. No more last car riding for me. " {I swear this is a true story. Gotta love New York. hahahaha}
Honorable Mention: - is sick of snowboots. I need pretty shoes on my feet. {I said this at the end of January and I'm already saying it in December. Its gonna be a lonnnnnnnnnnng winter}
FEBRUARY 1. "is celebrating the love I have today and not worry about tomorrow. {must have said this crap around Valentine's Day.....hahahahahah} 2. "wonders if the people in the People You May Know section are waiting to see who will crack first and send the friend request? LOL" 3. "hates Airtran. It's the Greyhound of the Skies." {This should really be their slogan. Wrote this as I was stranded in Atlanta airport en route to Memphis when plane I just got off of was going to Memphis but the chick at the ticket counter didn't bother to tell me the first time I asked about changing my connecting flight. Heffa. Yeah, I'm still mad. LOL}
MARCH 1. "just had a group of tourists ask for my autograph. I hope whatever I scribbled on the paper matches the signature of whomever they thought I was. *shrug* "{still don't know who the hell I was supposed to be. hahahahahaha} 2. "just saw a dude with a Jheri Curl Shag and laughed right in his face. Lord, please forgive me but You know that was funny!! hahahahaha" {that man looked at me like he could have killed me on the spot but damnit you can't walk out with no Ice Cube circa Boyz in da Hood, "follow the drip", "just let your Souuuuuuul Glo" Jheri Curl in 2009 in MARCH (no where near Halloween) and not expect someone to bust a gut. I'm just sayin'. } 3."feels like #?#! after my torture session. whoever said no pain no gain can kiss my a$$! hahahaha" {need to find a new trainer. Oh wait, not in my budget. Well I'm buying a fitness game for my Wii. I have travel and bikinis on my menu}
Honorable Mention - The Phone Saga *"She's just like you and me but she's PHONELESS, she's PHONELESS/as she stands there singing for money LA DAH DEE, LA DAY DAH" *"Industry Rule Number Four thousand and eighty: CELL PHONE COMPANIES ARE SHAAAADY!" * " They say I'm PHONELESS....like a penny with a whole in it...yeah yeah yeah."
APRIL 1. "is a wordwhore. The written word is my passion. I'm claiming it. " {one of my faves.} 2. ""is looking at some of these friend requests and wonders 'Harpo, who dis woman?" {seriously, this bothers me to NO END. You know damn well that you don't know me. Stop trolling your friends pages for their cute friends.} 3. "is enjoying today because tomorrow won't be the same. "
MAY 1. "No mas el Cinco de Mayo para mi." {margaritas on a work night. LAWWWWWD have mercy!! hahahaha} 2. "soy de salir del trabajo temprano para emapcar mi suitcase. La fiesta de FREEDOM esta noche; manana, PUERTO RICO" {yes, I was testing my spanglish in preparation for my trip. And yes, I took my suitcase with me to a party and went straight to the airport afterwards. hahahaha} 3. "Pet Peeve # 22: The word is JEWELry not JURY. A jury is comprised of the 12 people who sent your baby fahhhva upstate! And no I'm not stereotyping - somehow jewelry and her baby daddy's stint in prison were in the same conversation. lmao"
JUNE 1. "Some 'Diva' just tried to sell me a pair of shoes in a bar. Called himself my fairy godmother. Only in NY. LOL" 2. 'is getting hit on by a guy working in Victoria's Secret. Can I buy my panties in peace, please? Is that too much to ask?? lol" 3. "just got a to-go cup for my Mai Tai. I LOVE VEGAS!!! lol" {seriously, anyplace that allows you to walk down the street while sipping on a spirited concoction is alright with me. Hmmm, maybe I can do a world tour of such places and document it. Funding please! hahahaha}
Whew, this is longer that I thought. Rest of the year up tomorrow. Promise. Smoochies.
Last Thursday, my friend Law & Order invited me to a holiday party/toy drive. Due to the corporate divorce and subsequent corporate jumpoff status, I haven't been in much of a mood for partying lately, which if you know me, that is totally against who I am. LOL However, it was a toy drive, and you know the Resident Butterfly loves the kids, so I sucked it up (that's what she said), bought a motorized hot wheel sports car (to inflate some poor manchild's ego about the celebritous status he'll surely have if he gets the real thing when he's older) and made my way to the party.
Within five minutes, I was ready to go. Okay, maybe 15 minutes. But still
I walked in and was greeted by a nice looking brother in a suit. You already know a man in a well fitting suit is my Kryptonite so I thought maybe, just maybe, this lil holiday shindig will be the distraction I needed.
WRONG.
Don't get me wrong. It was a nice looking crowd and people were having a good time. But if these weren't the stuffiest nee-groes. You know the type: all about your pedigree and what firm you work for; the ones who use summer as a verb. Every dude who spoke to me (all of 3) asked what firm I was with. I didn't know this was an attorney exclusive party. When I informed them, that I was invited by a friend and indeed was not an attorney, they were deflated. As if they were already planning how great a power couple we could be in 3.5 years with 2.5 kids. While on the outside, mingling with beautiful upwardly mobile people would appear enticing. But these stuffy mo-fos were drier than my aunt's turkey on Thanksgiving.
This was the kind of party where all people wanted to do was pass their business cards. It was like speed-networking:
"Hi. What do you do?" "Oh really. Here's my card." NEXT
I gave myself a 9 pm exit time before I got there because I really needed to finish a project I was working on for the holidays. I started looking at my watch at 8:15. Where's the bar?
The nine o'clock hour struck on my watch (which meant it was really 8:50 but who's counting) and it was time to go. I kissed my friends goodbye and sailed out the door, not before 2 dudes handed me there business cards as I made my exit, no conversation, no name, just business cards. I threw those damn cards out the minute I walked outside. If I ever need legal representation, I have Law & Order as my friend. And if she can't help me, well damnit she mingles in this crowd, she'll find me somebody.
After leaving the Stuffed Shirt Soiree, ,I need some caffeine. Well, it was either a shot of Patron or Starbucks. Luckily, there was a Starbucks on the next corner.
I walked into Starbucks and there was a gentleman in front of me at the counter. Mink jacket, jeans, tims - the flashy hood winter uniform. Not giving him a second glance, I decided to focus on the menu instead. (As if I didn't know what I want. You all know I'm a Starbucks fiend. hahahahaa). After his order, he turned around, looked in my direction and said "Wow. Hello." It was as if I caught him off guard. It wasn't aggressive, just a simple "hello". Not wanting to be rude I responded in kind (without the wow part) with a smile. I proceeded to order my grande skinny cinammon dolce latte with an extra espresso shot (it was gonna be a long night) without giving any thought to Mr. Mink. My mind was alll over running to the ATM machine to take out some cash so I could take a taxi home out of this cold weather. By the time my drink was ready my mind was already 75% down my long to-do list for the rest of the evening.
I reach out to push the door open, and its already opened for me. I look up and there is Mr. Mink standing there holding the door open for me. While I smiled and said "thank you", my mind was thinking "Oh great, let the ghetto games begin."
WRONG.
He held the door open for me and complimented me. When he let go of the door, he extended his hand and said "Hi, my name is [Mr. Mink's full government]. And yours?" I was so caught off guard by his finesse I stumbled over the 4 syllables in my own name as I shook his hand. We chatted for all of a minute before he asked for my number. I still wasn't completely sold but I gave him my number anyway. We parted ways before I dashed into the bank before hailing a taxi. The entire ride home, I asked myself "why the hell did you give that guy your number?" I couldn't come up with an answer.
Yesterday, while I was watching the Jets game, he called to ask me to dinner. And since I couldn't think of any reason why to decline, I agreed. We met up at Starbucks, the same one where we met. We sat and had a conversation while I drank my skinny cinnamon dolce late (we were both late by the way, so that cancels it out right? hahahaha). This was my way of feeling him out so to speak. If I rolled my eyes once during this 10 minute convo, DATE OVER!! I had already planned my escape strategy - "Girrrrl, call me in 15 min. If I answer, make it sound urgent." (Don't judge me. You do it too!! hahahahaaa)
I have to admit, I was quite impressed with the gentleman sitting across from me. Over the course of the evening, conversation traveled through ports of religion, politics, stalkers (can't have a first date these days without that convo...hahahahaha), aspirations, travel, family (and he still wanted to talk to me...hahahaa) the lists goes on. By the time he dropped me off at home (a few doors down from my building...I ain't crazy), I felt like I'm been around the world of conversation with him.
He is not at all what I initially pegged him to be. He's smart, funny, slighty sarcastic, sweet (so far) and attentive (so far...hahahahaha). And once I looked past the mink jacket and what can be construed as trappings of hood, he's actually kinda cute. Sure his outerwear didn't appeal to me. But look at those ass clowns I encountered earlier in the evening. Sure they looked damn fine in those beautiful suits. (SIDEBAR: Seriously, a man in a NICELY FITTING SUIT*??!!!!! GOOD LAWWWWWWWWD TAKE THE WHEEL AND HAVE MERCY ON ME!! ******fanning myself with the MLK church fan******* Yes, it is that serious for me. ahahahahaa). However, they turned me off worse than a guy with jeans sagging past his ass yelling down the street"YO MA! LEMME HOLLA ATCHU FOR A MINUTE!"
So yes, I'll admit I was just as shallow as those lawyers and I judged a book by its cover. But luckily, I took the chance to read inside the jacket cover.
Carlos Santana. {might be my birthday shoe}
