flirting

So...I was on the phone with one of my besties the other night and we started talking about this guy that I used to be CRAZY about in high school. He lived one subdivision over from mine...making it easy for him to ride his bike to my house when my mom wasn't home. We didn't have sex but up until that time in high school, he had seen parts of me that no other guy had seen. We went to prom together, but were never officially a couple...he was pretty popular with a few ladies. We had an interesting relationship...yep, that sums it up.

Well, I hadn't spoken to him in over 10 years. All of a sudden, he resurfaces via FB. So, I was able to see that he was married, pretty successful, and looked EXACTLY the same. After we became FB friends, he wrote what seemed to be a 4-page email. Now, my memory is not very good. I have to be reminded of some things, so when he went on and on about how hurt he was when I severed our friendship and how much he valued me, I was confused for a good minute. By the time I got to paragraph 4, I was able to recall what happened.

My mom passed away while I was in college and during that time, my emotions were haywire and I started severing ties with people that I didn't feel were true friends. Now, I remember telling him that he wasn't worth my time but I don't remember why I said it. Oh well. It's not as if he fought for me or anything so 10 years can easily go by without speaking.

So, THAT'S the part of the email that I concentrated on at that time. The rest of it was just a backdrop...until I talked to my bestie. I mentioned something about his always saying something to me behind the scenes. If I update my status and he thinks it's funny, he'll email me instead of commenting. If I post a pic, he'll email me his opinion instead of commenting. I said something about his not wanting to be tracked and started talking about that 4-page email he sent. I focused on one thing; however, she picked up on another. I had to go back and read word for word exactly how he phrased a portion of the email.

He said:

"...you had a birthday party in June and you and I wrestled intimately on the couch a few hours before the other guests arrived. Now, I may be completely wrong. I may've even fantasized about the experience, but that thought made me smile."

So, when I first read the email, I didn't even blink at that statement. But when I read it to my bestie...my married bestie...my married bestie who seems to be the spokeperson for all the wives of the world...well, she became enraged. She probably got more pissed b/c I was laughing...at her. She said that it was totally inappropriate. OK, I won't disagree. I imagine that if I were going through my man's inbox (as I have done before) and come across something similar (as I have done before) then there would be some smoke in the city (as has gone down before). I guess that I didn't get weirded out by it, b/c I was too busy trying to digest everything else and wondering why what I said bothered him enough to speak on it...10 years later.

With a new set of eyes, I re-read the whole email and yeah, he said a few things that made me wonder what his motives were. A few emails later, he gave me his number and asked me to call him but I never did. I mean, "what I look like???" But anyway, even if he weren't married, we still live no where near each other so, to me, it was all harmless.

But was it?

So here are my questions...

If you're dating, in a relationship, or married to someone...do you expect them to never flirt with another member of the opposite sex?

Is that a realistic expectation?

And if it isn't, where do you draw the line?

Is "flirting" healthy?

reunited

His last words to me...

"When I called and you didn't answer the phone, I was torn. I needed to see you. I didn't know if I were doing the right thing."

This would've been a touching moment on the Youn.g and the Rest.less had this...I dunno...not been him.

A couple of days before this incident, my girlfriend (a mutual friend of ours) called me. I remember the crack in her voice as if this conversation took place yesterday. I was bracing myself, thinking that she was about to tell me that someone in her family had died.

No.

"I just called to tell you that...**deep breath**...Wacko proposed to his ex-girlfriend the other night."

"Wacko?"

"Yeah."

"Really? Wacko???"

"Yeah."

"The Wacko that I'M dating???"

**Sigh** "Yeah."

I couldn't say anything as I tried to process all of this. Where in da hell did this "ex" come from? We hadn't been dating that long so my feelings weren't so invested that I was heartbroken, but my ego had just experienced a blow similar to the ones that only Mike Ty.son could deliver back in his hayday. My girlfriend was so apologetic that it embarrassed me. I was confused, humiliated, and angry.

But I didn't call and cuss him out. I decided that I'd just disappear. I obviously didn't mean much to him so this should've been an easy feat.

That night when Wacko was so "torn", he called me about 3-4 times, but left no messages.

I was holding strong.

Then my mind started playing tricks on me...I started seeing things. I thought that I spotted his car in my neighborhood but I convinced myself that it couldn't have been him since he lived a good 35 minutes away. He had no reason to be on my side of town.

Not more than a day later, I caved from curiosity and answered the phone. He called me from the barbershop and talked to me as if nothing had happened. I held the receiver with pursed lips...waiting on his formal confession. He asked to come over. I was in more disbelief of his gall than his actual proposal. I decided to interrupt his nonsense and get straight to the point.

"So, at no point did you think it would be important to let me know that you were seriously dating your ex."

"I haven't been dating her."

"That's interesting b/c word on the street is that you proposed. Is that not true?"

**Silence**

"Well, she just came back into the picture."

"Is that right?"

"When I called and you didn't answer the phone, I was torn. I needed to see you. I didn't know if I were doing the right thing."

"I guess the translation for that is you were trying to see if you could screw me one last time. Have you been riding around my neighborhood?"

"I've been over there a few times."

I was shocked that he actually admitted it. And that's when I felt the hurt sneak up on me. So much so, that I had to end the call before the first tear drop. I broke out the black balloons and confetti and threw myself a pity party. Later on, my girlfriend found out that the "ex" was pregnant. I don't know if she thought that this was going to make me feel better or to help me make sense of it all. I didn't necessarily need to know that there could've been a week when he slept with me one night and then was in her bed the next.

Truth be told, if we didn't have a mutual friend I may not have been as strong as I was. I felt that although he treated me as if I were a fool, I had to prove (to my g/f and to myself) that I wasn't. I had to act as if I didn't care when it was tearing me up inside.

That was over 6 years ago.

While looking through my g/f's photo album on FB the other night, I was reunited with Wacko's face, cheek to cheek with his "ex"-turned-wife. They appeared to be so happy.

I can't say that any strong feelings (bad or otherwise) came back to me being that so much time has passed. I just wondered how fair is it for him to be happily married. I want to be "happily married". Not to him...as I do recognize that I was spared. But how is it that something that seems so elusive for me is available to those less deserving of happiness, period?

And then I think, who am I to decide who deserves anything when I have certainly been the recipient of things that I didn't feel as if I deserved (both good and bad). If God were to grant me things based on when I deserved them, then maybe I wouldn't be sitting where I am now. I have to remind myself of this whenever I feel short-changed by God. It doesn't always make me feel better, but maybe one day, my feelings will catch up with my mind.

a few words on the not-so-new guy

I’m a people-watcher. I don’t sit in coffee shops or bars and watch people. I watch the people that could potentially impact my life. How many times have we heard someone say that actions speak louder than words? But how often do we take time to observe those actions before things become complicated?

I don’t impress easily. Telling me that I'm pretty doesn't move me. Now, if you sweet-talked me in high school…and college, to some extent…you might've been on my radar and your word might've been gospel. But I have since come to learn that a lot of times, people are just talk. They love to talk. They love to hear themselves talk. Or they talk about things that they think you want to hear.

I remember being in Ho.me De.pot. There was this man in there that would find himself in my aisle one-too-many times. Well, I went down another aisle and picked up a floor heater.

He says, “I would love to know if those things will work for my house. You see, I have a really big house with high ceilings.”

**Blank stare** I guess that I was supposed to change my draws after that one. I rolled my eyes when he tried to get my number. As soon as a guy starts talking about what all he has, I assume that he doesn’t feel confident enough in himself to think that who he is will be enough to attract me.

And who is he exactly?

I still wouldn’t know after one or two dates. All I would know is that the guy may be of some interest to me. Ladylee said something to me, years ago, about needing to see how a person lives. That was some meat and potatoes advice b/c I was chewing on that for a minute...still trying to digest all of it.

When Jesse first approached me, he already knew (through Tee) that I was trying to do some yard improvements. So that was his angle. He offered to do all kinds of projects b/c that was his hobby. While we were dating, guess what project got done? Nar’y one. And if that wasn’t enough, I asked him to do something that was VERY important to me…explained why it was important to me from an emotional standpoint. He said that he would. Did he ever do it? Nope. So that was that. I didn’t even feel strongly enough to give him the common courtesy of telling him to his face that we were no longer dating. I just didn't feel as if I owed him a damn thing. But I don’t fault him. I fault myself. If I had taken the time to truly observe who he was and how he lived, I could’ve saved myself the trouble. He was never a man of action.

And that’s what I need.

That’s how I’m getting burned with J’s dad.

So, I’m taking my time with the new man friend or not-so-new man friend. People have assumed that he and I don’t talk anymore. Since I don’t mention him much on blog, we can't possibly be talking. Well we do…very often. I don’t mention him on blog as often b/c I don’t need to share every detail of every conversation that we have…I’d be here all day. But more importantly, some things are best left offline and between us. So I apologize if that makes my blog 10 times more boring.

But the truth of the matter is, I’m still observing. Unfortunately, by his living in the N.O. and my being here, that makes it a little hard. But it does give me more time to get my mind right. His visit wasn’t long enough for me to get a true representation and I’m sure that he can say the same about me. But I don’t know when he’ll visit again and I have no idea when I’m going back home. I can’t really make a fair assessment about the future without truly seeing how he lives. I enjoy talking to him and he has become a confidant. But there are some things that I still need to know. Is he progressing towards his goals? How solid is his word? Is he proactive? He's mentioned a few things that he would like to accomplish. He shouldn't have ever told me that b/c now he's on the clock. If he can't handle his own business, that speaks volumes...even more than he can ever say on the phone. I can sell myself as the most patient person in the world and be very convincing…but observe me at a stoplight or my facial reaction when someone uses the word "chillax", lol.

So our motto is, one day at a time. We have agreed on one thing…if the worst case scenario is that we’re just really good friends, then that’s still a sweet deal.

on simmer

I'm just stepping on the scene to say this: Watch out for your so-called "friends", man. I have reason to believe that this broad that was so adamant about me leaving this one dude alone, at some point, was kinda feeling him. I don't know if this is still true now. I suspected it before, but didn't trust my own intuition. I think that I have finally confirmed it tonight. There really is no reason to trip, since I'm not currently dating the dude and her barking in my ear wasn't the reason that I stopped seeing him, but dayum. It just reminds me that I need to think harder on people's motives and agendas.

a break from "smurfy"

I was about to write another comment, but I decided to make it a quick post instead. First things first...I'm not a small d*ck snob. The extreme on the other side of the spectrum is just as uncomfortable. But if that's what a guy is working with, then cool. If you want to know something about me...my breasts could stand to be bigger and are not as perky as they used to be pre-pregnancy. They were gorgeous during pregnancy and even sexier when I was engorged (although hard as a rock) and I used to love to hit people with the profile. But after breast-feeding, things went downhill quickly. But I'm happy with them...as I am with the rest of my body. And I haven't heard any complaints.

My momma had the kind of breasts that has gotten us free food on several occasions. Now, do I think that I can stroll up in an IHOP and get a free stuffed french toast combo with mine? As much as that would make my mornings, nope. So ok, I know this. You can't tell me that this guy (in his 31 years of life) hasn't been in enough bathrooms, locker rooms, or hasn't seen enough porn to know that he is sub-standard. Quite frankly, there aren't enough actresses in the world that could make him think that he was hurting something. So, the fact that he whipped it out, as if he were about to tame me with it, was a bit confusing.

My f*cking around with the wrong guy (literally) has cost me in the past. I have fallen asleep DURING the act, to which I never heard the end of it. I missed a great commercial once b/c everything happened so quickly...and I was HOT about it. And probably the worst thing that a guy can hear as the sweat is beading on his forehead is "Are you even in?" Yep, I asked that once and the answer was affirmative.

So now, I just try to minimize the discomfort for both parties. If I can help it, I just refuse to get up MAD. Like I said, although his being sub-standard was not the whole reason why I decided to NOT go there with him, it was enough for me to be bored with his attempts at trying to hit after that. It's like that little bitty dog that barks loud on your block, named King, that you look at like "you ain't gon' do sh*t."

I guess that the take-home message is this...if Newsguy had actually tried to date me and get to know me, he stood a better chance at my not making a big deal about him being small. I would actually respect him and work with him. But since he was acting an a$$, well, it only made me angry enough to state that. Once you get to liking a person and later thinking that you're all in "luh", those things don't matter so much. And if the guy reciprocates those feelings then he's about pleasing you. He'll be into a little coaching and creative alternatives. In the midst of the act, I'm not thinking about how he lacks the equipment to tie my fallopian tubes or nudge my ovaries. I'm more caught up in the sensuality of it all. And surely in my older age, I have learned how to help myself out, if it comes down to it.

So no, I wouldn't throw back a good catch but I'm not trying to catch everything that a dude just throws at me either.

And now that you've gotten to know too much about me, back to our regularly scheduled "smurfy" (Leezie, 2008) program...

pre-game commentator

OK, this post may need a new category called TMI.

I like a little 'ish talk. And there are some times when this is more than appropriate. For example:

1. After scoring 25 aka "Christ.mas" during a game of bones (dominoes), whenever a trump is introduced during a game of spades or in the midst of whippin' a$$ in Mor.tal Combat. In fact, it is an unwritten rule for the latter 2.

2. In battle rap, but not all that materialistic "iced out, doin' donuts and poppin' bottles" bull.

3. Cooking skills...being my favorite kind of 'ish talk from men.

4. "Yo maw" jokes on the playground back in the day.

5. Whenever your partnah's team gets their a$$ handed to 'em by your team (in whatever sport).

But I hate it...absolutely abhor it...when dudes talk all kinds of 'ish about their prowess in the bedroom pre-penetration. I can handle a freak but not a braggart. For the life of me, I just cannot figure out the point. Be it a pleasant surprise or a quiet disappointment, I don't need the pre-game commentation. Unless I've experienced toe-curlage with the dude before, his mic is turned off.

I'm ranting b/c Newsguy, perhaps in a bored state of mind, kept texting me nonsense today...straight trashy in the A.M. And here I thought that if you igged a person enough, then they would get the hint. Guess what made him stop? Tonight I sent:

LB: "Yes, I'm a hot piece so I don't blame you. But u want ure cake and to 'eat it 2'. Here's the news at 10, I'm overqualified for the 'eat it 2' position."

Newsguy: "Hahahahaha. I'm pullin' ure hand off my face."

LB: "Holla at me when ure ready to take me to dinner."

I guess that he read that and thought "murder she wrote", b/c my phone hasn't made a sound since. I figured that digging in his pocket would shut him up. But here's the thing...Newsguy was talkin' much $exual 'ish from jump. So when I finally let him cross my threshhold on my day off, I was kinda curious amongst other things.

In that post I wrote, "...some things happened...NOT EVERYTHING...". Well, what I'm about to say was not the trump card, but again, here's the news at 10.

Never brag on your endowment, if you masturbate with only 2 fingers and a thumb.

the 3rd barber on the left aka the 5th one

I can't see too well and I may be hard of hearing but I can smell bull ish a mile away.

So everyone knows that during the summers, I am a free woman. My baby goes back home to the N.O. while I pretend as if I have no responsibilities for 3 months. I was explaining to the barbers, at the shop that I take J to, that we would be MIA until September. Now, the older man cuts J's hair but I'm pretty cool with 5 of them. I talk to the older guy about politics, the wannabe-black-guy about how Kanye can murder 50 Cent any day of the week with his lyrics, the shorter guy about why I don't have a man, and the one in the back about lawn care. We pretty much run the gamut of subjects during my 1 hour visit. Anyway, the 4 barbers that I mentioned are married (but 2 of them give me the impression that they would be single for one night with me). The 5th one (that I have yet to mention) is the only single guy in the place...if only he looked like Micheal Ealy, I would be in business. However, he ACTS as if he's on top of his game b/c he claims to have women all around the globe...ya know, regular barbershop bull ish.

The 5th one has been giving off rhythm since the 1st day that I took J there about a year and a half ago. But I classify barbers with construction workers...they will holla at anybody that walks by. He has been intrigued by my being from the N.O. and was shocked to learn that I actually have a brain, to accompany my cute face, when I told him what I do for a living. He seems to be most impressed by the fact that I don't have a weave...why that's considered impressive is beyond me. So when I said that I wouldn't be back until September, he gave me his number and asked that I call him so that he can provide me with some company while my baby was gone.

I wasn't going to call, but Tee convinced me that there was no harm in getting a cup of coffee with someone. I think that her main concern was that I had thrown in the towel after Jesse, who's a dumbass (just in case anyone wanted to know)...and she witnessed his dumbassery and perhaps thought that I would not recover unless I got back out there and did a couple of trial runs. I got enough practice with Promance, minus the pressure.

I call a few days later. We talked briefly. We were supposed to go out but then I got tied up with other engagements and before I knew it, a month and a half had gone by. I, then, called him to arrange dinner. He pretended as if he didn't know who I was. That was cool, but when I said my name, he really laid it on thick...as if he was searching his mental rolodex to figure out who I was. I thought that he was joking but he didn't laugh once. I got annoyed and was done. This negro bought me chocolates for Valentine's Day...and now he has selective amnesia. Cool. I wasn't mad. I just wasn't interested.

Even if "the 5th one" didn't have my name saved in his phone (which I don't believe), the 504 should've tipped him off. I figured that he was so-called paying me back for not jocking him from jump.

I go into the shop last night, having my usual convo with the barbers. But this time, my phone kept ringing, so I stepped outside to talk a few times while I waited for J to get in the chair. The 5th one goes in the back and starts calling me from an unknown number. He said, "I'm watching you and I just wanted to tell you all of the things that I want to do to you." Seriously, I did not recognize his voice and the number wasn't saved in my phone but it was an 804 area code, so the person had to know me. When I asked him who he was, he just told me to call him back when I left the loud place that I was in and hung up. I don't play with stalkers. I've been stalked by men and women and its not a sexy feeling nor is it funny. Then while I'm paying for J's haircut, I get a text talking 'bout how good I look today and if I'm "scurred" then I should say so. After much wasted time, he calls me back a few hours later to id himself.

So much for not knowing who I am. I'm just happy to be right. I'm not a hard-ass! He's still getting igged though.

in the meantime

A few days back, I told Newsguy that I was off on Friday. On Friday morning, he asked to come by. Up until this point, I limited him to the porch. He has been respectful and hasn't made any advances towards me...in person, that is. Plus, I told him that although he didn't work for CNN, he is popular enough 'round these parts that he can be found if something foul goes down. He had already accrued some points for coming over just to give me a hug when I had a rough day and then leaving not too long after. So, I let him come over...and I actually let him cross my threshhold. Again, he respected my space. (More importantly, he took his shoes off w/o my asking...yep, I can be a little anal about my carpet.) He didn't do anything without my prompting. I think that he was so happy to be inside that he just relished the moment. He has made it clear what he wanted from me in the beginning and I respected his honesty. In the meantime, I enjoyed his wit, the game play, and the company. Needless to say, some things happened...NOT EVERYTHING, but enough to satiate me (probably not him) for a minute. He left wanting more...and so did I.

I believe that I can hold out for the right one, but what do I do in the meantime? Its not that I sit and wander incessantly about wanting and needing someone. I engage in enough things to keep my mind occupied. But the truth of the matter is, I do want someone. And sometimes, I just want to have the freedom to express that without being battered by words of encouragement. I know that they all come from a good place, but I have not reached the point of desparation.

How many times can I be told that He'll come when I'm not looking? I don't even understand what that means anymore b/c, to my knowledge, I haven't been looking. I've been living my life. But every now and again, I want a man to wrap his arms around me from behind and secure me with his embrace. Can I just say that? Good. So tell me, what do I do in the meantime? How many times do I have to be told to pray that God will send me someone? Been there, done that, printed the T-shirts. How may times does one have to pray the same prayer before they believe that God is taking care of it? I already know that God has both mine and my intended's backs, b/c I can already see the stages of preparation. So, I can go to church with the best of 'em and spit all kinds of spiritual cliches and verses. But tell me, what do I do in the meantime? What do I do when I want a man to kiss me as if his last breath depended on it? What do I do when I want a man to make love to me slowly and deliberately? Finding a man to f*ck me ain't hard...and hell, I can do that without looking or praying for it. I like sex like the next person. But what I do when I want those butterflies? What do I do when I want a man to massage the day's stresses out of my shoulders and lower back? What do I do when I want a man to play in my hair? I just want to be free to say that's what I want, without my looking weak or man hungry. I already know He's coming and I already know Who's sending him. Glad that we got that established. But in the meantime, I want to be loved.

equal opportunity

I'm an equal opportunity dater...well, excluding women. I prefer men that look like me, but the majority of the men that holla at me here in VA have been white. They have been white but more "down" than me, if that makes any sense. I keep hearing my friends say that they wouldn't consider dating white men b/c they would wonder if these men are dating them just b/c they are black, or to fulfill some fantasy, or whatever else. Maybe I'm too naive but I don't think about that...seeing as how I have been many a notch on a black man's belt when I was young and dumb. A man with bad intentions is a man with bad intentions...be he white, black, red, purple, or blue. I'd like to believe that I'm mature enough to detect them and strong enough to ignore them. Again, I do have a preference for black men. In fact, I have a preference for tall, pretty, black men, with a slim build but Santa doesn't always come through. I usually find that I am drawn to men with a comparable sense of humor to mine and don't really notice that they're not too tall (like that matters when I'm 5'3" on a good day), not El De.barge, are melanin challenged, or has a six pack (in their fridge only).

I recently made the decision that I need to be serious about not entertaining yet another white man, News Guy. I think that I have been drawn in by the fact that he's a news reporter and its funny to see the change in his personality without a camera around. He has been exciting, to say the least, but I already know that we're on 2 different pages. It has become a battle of who's going to leap to the other person's page first...and I have been feeling weak. I need to go in hiding just in case he notices the glitch in my Ma.trix.

Tonight, I went out to a bday dinner for a g/f. I sat next to this Asian dude, who reminded me of this guy that I used to go to school with. At first, I was thinking that he was kinda cute...I moreso noticed that he was kinda fine. We had our little side convos and shared some food. I had my baby J with me, so this dude kept checking on him. I mean, he was a real sweetheart. Too bad that I don't remember this guy's name but he kept trying to make sure that he had my last name right. Mayne, I am highly googlable...ain't no mistaking me. The only thing that anyone can probably confirm on the web is where I went to school, but still...lol. Peeps were going around the table trying to add each other to face.book and I think that I'm supposed to look him up. Maybe I will, b/c methinks that he may be a little too young for me to be attracted to him.

On second thought, I may just need my cot and my blanket, b/c I have apparently grown weary of ever being approached by QUALITY black men. Rufus and 'em don't count.

bottom of the map 2: from the eyes of a native-turned-tourist

Thursday

OK, now that I've gotten all that whining about a man out of my system, I can now move on. As planned, I had my char.broiled oysters not more than a couple of hours after I had arrived. And they were everything that I dreamed they would be. It has become tradition, ever since I moved away, that me and a couple of friends do this on my first night back in town.

Afterwards, we met up with my boy, G, at Le Bon.s Tem.ps and caught the Sou.l Re.bels. I'm a self-proclaimed So.ul Re.bels groupie. As a native, I believe that an acute affinity for brass bands, jazz, and bounce music is in my blood...it makes it hard to not be caught up in the rhythm even when your feet hurt or you're 2 blinks away from a coma. Upon grooving and observing my surroundings, I was trying to calculate how long it had been since I was in a spot with so many attractive black men. I still have yet to come up with an answer. It must've been a grip b/c as more guy friends rolled through, I noticed that they were finer than I remembered. Be that as it may, I can't do anything with anyone long distance, so I had to avert my eyes and sidestep the flirtatious touching as much as possible. I'm not what I used to be so by 2 AM, I was propped up against an old piano, counting how many yawns I can muster in 10 minutes. We bounced shortly after.

Friday

I slept in the next morning and then joined a family game of Wii bowling. By that afternoon, I had made plans to have dinner with my former boss and then hook up with G afterwards. Seeing my FB was cool. She was telling me of some private contracts that were coming down the pike, to which I thought my current experience was beneficial. I believe that is when I first pondered the idea of moving back and perhaps acquiring what I deemed to be meaningful work. But considering how slow the N.O. can be in that aspect, I figured that I had more than enough time to fully do some research on the possibilities.

Later, me, K-Rizzy, and G met up for some good reminiscing and even-better drinks. We were having a good time on that bar's corner until G started looking a little too intensely into the cars that were stopping at the sign. G has been shot before. With that memory resurfacing, we thought it a good idea for us to take cover behind a wall, so we went down the street to the Bl.ue Ni.le. The So.ul Re.bels happened to be playing downstairs but we partook of the sounds from a DJ upstairs. Once we got to the balcony, this guy swooped in like a vulture and was much too overly aggressive for my liking. Just when I started to like the black people content at this joint, he ruined it. Upon pushing him off of me for the third time, I looked around and saw this guy that I had met a couple of years ago...or maybe last year. I really have no clue. I hugged this familiar face b/c he saved me from the other guy, but I still cannot remember his name and I was hoping that I wouldn't be forced to if he said mine. We maintained very little contact from our first encounter and I'm sure that was for a reason (a reason that escapes me, as well). We talked until I realized that I was both safe and bored and then me and K-Rizzy left to get a closer look at the brass band playing on the street, right outside of a taco truck. That taco truck had been there all evening, but this band appeared out of nowhere. Were they undercover? Was I THAT tipsy? I needed sleep.

Saturday

I sprung up the next morning, b/c me and RC were booked up for a day of shopping at the French Mar.ket and the the Riv.erwalk. I only packed for hot, hotter, and hot-as-hell...and well that day, it was hot-as-hell! Perhaps I HAD gotten used to the slight breeze in VA but I swear that Satan was walking next to me saying, "You can't hang, hunh?" Now, I may have cheated my low cholesterol diet while in town but I got enough exercise to last me a month. At the market, I spent too much money on N.O.-themed black and white sketches to go in my N.O.-themed kitchen. What can I say? I am a sucker for artwork that reminds me of home. We then took a break at Caf.e Du Mon.de and grabbed some beig.nets as I started to feel as if my deodorant had punched in its time card while my relaxer had questioned its long, hard-working hours as well. Which sucked b/c I was scheduled to take a family picture that day and was wondering how in the world did I plan to recover from this. We continued to walk along the river and then get briefly air-conditioned inside the River.walk. It was hard but I refrained from buying anything else with a fleur-de-lis on it.

I went back to my dad's house to freshen up for this ghetto photo shoot. Leave it up to my dad to not decide that Ol.an Mills or Se.ars would capture our fam's best moments in time. Instead, we went to his sis-in-law's, who happens to run a beauty shop and photography studio out of her home. Never have I ever gone to take a family photo, during which I was offered wine, chicken, and red beans so that I could be relaxed for the shoot. Only here. But they did mix a jazz CD for me, so perhaps it was worth whatever my dad negotiated in payment.

I met up with K-Rizzy again b/c, for some reason, I just couldn't stand the thought of being in the house at 10 PM. We hit up Bour.bon and once again, I was trying to determine the last time that I actually walked down Bour.bon Street...and for the most part, without a drink in my hand or a line dance...i.e. "the Bus Stop" in my heart.

Sunday

Mack texted me to see what my plans were for the day. I was the house heathen that skipped church that morning. K-Rizzy and I decided to have brunch instead. I had just bought a dress in the French Mar.ket and I thought that it was a brunch-y dress and I wanted to show it off. Unfortunately, Tro.pical Stor.m Fay.e was going to make my ANTM Sunday plans hard. Although I modified my wardrobe that early afternoon, I knew that I was going to have to be super-cute for when I met up with Mack.

When I told him where I was staying, he was a little too tickled by it and that's when I realized that his brother lived less than 2 minutes away. Small world N.O. We went to this dai.quiri shop up the street and chilled. Its weird...I was sitting across from this man, who could've used a shave, a haircut, perhaps even a change of clothes yet I was more into him than I let on (I hope)...more into him than anyone that I dated or merely thought that I liked (even Choir Boy) in the last 3 years. For some reason, I didn't want to ask him anything regarding his career...or if he was dating anyone. I figure that he gets interviewed enough. I DID feel as if we talked about me too much. But as I was listening to him discuss what all he did to move his sisters back to the N.O. and get their kids into good schools, I got all dreamy eyed. I told him about my 5-year plan and how I was considering moving to Te.xas and he looked at me as if I had lost my mind. I then back-peddled and said that maybe I'd stay in VA, to which he cut me off and stated that that wasn't happening. I knew in my head and in my heart that that wasn't happening either. And that's when he said,

"Why don't you move back to New Or.leans? It wasn't that bad to you before the storm."

I stumbled for a sec, b/c that wasn't necessarily true. He just didn't know all the drama that I needed to get away from and Kat.rina kinda freed me from all of that. I wasn't too interested in filling him in either b/c who I was 3 years ago is a far cry from the innocent, sheltered girl that he first met. Who I am now is no where near who I was 3 years ago, but "who I am now" doesn't know how she could possibly fit in Mack's world now. And to be honest, I just want to exist in his low key life...and still don't know if THAT's reasonable considering his schedule.

We stood outside and talked in the rain and I just wanted to freeze time.

Monday

Visited with a few friends to see their new homes or the progress of their old homes. K-Rizzy took me to Rod.ney's b/c I had been craving a bub.ble gum sno-ball and some soggy nachos. I used to live in walking distance from this place when I was a little girl. Everything felt the same, excluding the prices. I noticed that the housing looked more run down the further east we drove. While in the area, she took me to the house that J and I lived in before the storm. The man who bought my gutted home had made much progress...but I didn't too much care for his curb appeal decisions. To each, his own. The neighborhood still didn't have much life to it, in my opinion.

I missed G's speech at some women's empowerment convention. Why he was asked to be a speaker is still beyond me. I joked that he was supposed to be "empowering" the sno-ball that I had to eventually get with K-Rizzy. Instead, I went to dinner with J's godmother, EJ. She and her hubby used to be in driving distance while in B-More, but they moved back home 3 months ago. I still didn't get to see everyone that I wanted to see, but the more important players were present.

Tuesday

It was time to get in the VA mindset. My JJ had a hard time at the airport. Up until that point, he was ready to come back to VA but I guess the realization that his PawPaw wasn't coming back with him, hit him hard. I never had a grandfather or one that I had ever met but I imagine that the relationship that he has with his PawPaw is just as special as the relationship that he has with me. Due to the FAA glitch, I had time to wonder if all the benefits of being in VA truly outweigh all the benefits we would have if we were back home. Only time will tell.

bottom of the map

I's back...well, somewhat. I shall be recuperating from my trip all day tomorrow. Lawdtaday, I just do not want to do deal with work folks anytime soon. Anyways, I'll make this brief and perhaps elaborate later. I had a great time...so much so that I'm bouncing around the idea of amending my 5-year plan and moving back home. The jury's still out on that for the moment. I got my baby back and all is well. Somewhat...

I'll just share one part of my trip...guess what I discovered? Not only was Mack back home visiting as well, he was staying with his brother (who, I also discovered, lives in the same neighborhood as my dad). I texted him when I got off the plane just to see if he were already in town and, come to find out, he was coming down on Saturday. We went out for some dai.quiris Sunday night. Now, every night that I was down there, I was partying like a rock star...just to get it out of my system before my baby's school year officially started. And every one of those nights, I was grabbed and/or annoyed by some stranger. On that Sunday night; however, Mack and I had a good time ribbin' each other for a couple of hours and all I got was a hug and a peck on the cheek. And you know what I decided?

I want THIS man.

...but I don't know why. I don't know if its b/c our paths keep crossing. I don't know if its b/c the reason that I broke off our very short-lived high school relationship was REALLY stupid and I want to right that STUPID. I don't know if its b/c my momma liked him and made it clear that what I did was silly. I don't know if its b/c we think the same about many things. I don't know if its b/c he reminds me a lot of my dad (which is weird that that would be a positive thing in and of itself). Maybe its b/c I have some unrealistic idea of what it would feel and be like to be his lady. But then again, I don't know if its b/c I feel as if I can't REALLY have him. Can someone always have a hold on you even when you're dating or married to someone else? I feel so flighty in the man department...and I feel like a dumb a$$ when dealing with Mack. Like my granny used to say...one of us needs to either shyt or get off the pot. And certainly that person has to be me.

More on my trip to the bottom of the map later...or maybe not.

love notes

Imagine that I'm sitting here, shuffling the money that massah gave me to pay some bills online when I get an email alert. I got a couple of email addresses and I very rarely check THAT one. I am experiencing a serious backlog on the home-related newsletters that I have sent there and a blogger or 2 from my past may drop me a line there only once every mango season.

Anyways, I click on the alert and, lo and behold, its an email from this guy that I went to elementary and junior high school with. We were probably the 2 nerdiest people in our 8-person gifted class, with huge plastic glasses that competed for the limited space on our cheeks. Somehow...and I don't recall how...he was labeled my boyfriend. I don't remember when or if he formally asked me in the 6th grade, but it was just known. I used to like him b/c he used to draw all of these cool things and he got me into creating my own superheroes and drawing my own comic books. I think that is how we spent time together...drawing together b/c I remember trying to emulate his skills. We'd top it off by going to the snoball stand. Yes, it was THAT hot and heavy. I don't even remember why we broke up. Then, the handful of us that shared that gifted class ended up going to the same junior high school so we kinda stuck together...at least for a little while. But in the 7th grade, he hit me with the news that he was moving away. We weren't "together" but I don't think that I took it very well.

So a while back, he found me on myspace. I had to practically stare at his picture b/c this dude is FAR from being a nerd now. He lives in ATL and if I read correctly, he is a recording artist of some sort. I'm sure ATL has a bunch of underground recording artists. I know, b/c I dated someone else who should STILL be down there doing the same thing. Nowadays, you are hard-pressed to NOT find someone who supposedly has a record contract or who isn't striving to work for Di.ddy.

Back to the email...

The email is just a regular one-of-the-mill, whatchu' been up to emails, right? Why did this dude attach a scanned copy of a poem that I wrote to him 18 years ago? In fact, if he hadn't attached it, I would have denied EVER writing a dude a poem...but unfortunately I did. And I would attach it here if I didn't think that it was the lamest, wackest stuff that I've ever read in my life. How in the world did I ever keep a "boyfriend" with my subpar romantic skills? And to top it off, half of it did not make any sense whatsoever. I'm hoping that the words that I can't really decipher are part of some secret language that a group of us nerds shared...wait a minute...then again, I hope not b/c the resurfacing of this proof of my lame-ness is enough.

I had my fair share of "love" and "like" notes that I used to keep in a hot pink Kaboo.dles box. I'm not sure of how far they dated back since I lost those notes and that box to the storm. But I remember looking back at them while in college and getting a kick out of what was said. Ya know, I never thought that guys were as sentimental as females can be.

So here are the questions:

Do you keep old love letters? Why? Do they still have the power to change your mood? How often do you peek at them? And as far as keeping them, how long is TOO long?

crushin'

Here's my plate! I'm somewhat happy with how it came out, but I could have done better with the sunflowers.

Unfortunately, it doesn't fit in my cabinet, but it plays nicely with my Target dishes and pitcher-turned-flower vase. But if anyone would like to fill my dusty glass-front cabinets with something...ANYTHING colorful, then holla at ya girl.

Ok, on to the story...

I think that I might have a crush...and this needs to cease expeditiously, lol.

This past week has been a busy one both professionally and personally. I have been in need of some serious "me" time. Maybe b/c I'm an only child, I value my "me" time more than anything...and I can get kinda weird about not calling or talking to people for a few days. I was so excited to find a cheap bistro set at Home De.pot, that I sat outside on my porch today and had some ice cream as I thought some things over.

Honestly, I can't wait until my baby comes back, so we can sit out there and have our Cheerios on a sunny Saturday morning. Did I mention that I miss him?

Anyway, so I was having lunch with Tee on Thursday as we debated on whether or not I was dating Promance vs. just hanging out. I figured that since he didn't touch me, then it didn't constitute as a date. But when she asked, "If he DID kiss you, would you resist?", I just hit her with the dazed and confused look. And I am so mad that I didn't have an answer...or at least, mad that I lacked the ingenuity to properly insert the gas face at this moment regardless of what I was really thinking.

I CANNOT have a crush on this dude for so many reasons and I probably wouldn't even be giving 2 thoughts to it, had Promance not blurted out to Tee and Bruh-coworker (as we were in mid-argument, mind you), "Hey, did you tell them about the movie that we saw last night?" If looks could kill, we would either be spreading his ashes across the Ja.mes River or he would still be in ICU right about now. He can certainly silence a room b/c we were all giving each other the hard 5-second stare down until Tee says, "Oh, so ya'll went on a date?" I was already in pi$$ed mode, so I cut her off and said, "No, we were just hanging out." Then Promance laughs, shows off his dimples, and says, "Oh no, it was a date. We had dinner and a movie. I mean, we've gone out before"...as if that was the right thing to say. I couldn't look at Bruh-coworker's jaw grace the ground any longer, so I excused myself and went to the bathroom. All I heard as I was walking away is "she's embarrassed now."

When I first met Promance, I.could.not.stand.him. He just seemed like one of those frat boys that thinks that the world revolves around him. He's the KING of first dates, but very rarely do I hear tale of a second, as he blames that on his being picky. I always thought that he was kinda cute, as I am a sucker for dimples. But for the first few months, he was so daggone annoying that it wouldn't even matter if he looked like Com.mon. His mic was getting turned off on the daily. But somewhere between then and now, he grew on me. He has shared many personal things with me. Then I started having a couple of naughty dreams about him that I quickly pushed towards the back of my mind. So, I guess we've gotten closer without my even realizing it. We like a lot of the same things, have similar goals and are in agreement on a lot of subjects. The problem is that not only do we work together, the only thing that separates Promance and I is 1/2 of a partition. When no one's looking, we'll whisper things back and forth (like a broke a$$ Tim "the Toolman" Taylor and Wilson on Home Improve.ment) but when everyone is tuned in, we put on a show. I don't think that a day goes by without my telling him to "shut up" or "kick rocks." Yet and still, he was a topic of discussion when I was dating Jes.se...perhaps b/c Promance is actually my age. If only he were black...

And so, we've hung out a few times. But each time seemed so awkward. Most certainly the attraction is there as he has made it known, but he has never given me the impression that he actually liked me in the romantic sense. When we've hung out, he barely touches me. When we went to see "Wan.ted" (which was a very fun and exciting movie, btw), I kept covering my eyes during certain parts and squirming in my seat. And once I finally rested on the shared armrest, I noticed that he started biting his nails. I swatted at him, as I usually do, and he says, "I can't help it, you're making me nervous."

And the thought of my actually having a crush makes me nervous.

But this would never work. I have already filled my quota of dating men at the office. One too many of those and you become the J.Ho of the cubicles. Plus, I'm sure that he has never dated a black woman and I'm also sure that he would have a problem with dating women with children...2 things that I obviously cannot hide and would happily let someone go on their merry way if they had a problem with it. But would I dodge him, if he kissed me? I would go with the flow out of curiosity. But then again, curiosity has bitten me in my hindparts before...a little too recently, if I may add.

So, I'm thinking that he just enjoys my company...as I do his from time to time. If this is a crush, it can't hurt, right? I'm sure that he'll say something rather asinine and I'll be over it by next week.

i hate men

There's this nasty rumor going around that I hate men. Yep, I might as well just get right to it. It may or may not be a rumor b/c I have a tendency to say anything and oftentimes I have a tendency to say the wrong thing. Whether I said it or thought it was a funny thing to say, or just cosigned to it, I have to retract it. Hate is such a strong word that I can't even seriously use it against one person, let alone, allow it to blanket a whole group. That was engrained in me since childhood as the word "hate" was just as bad as any other curse word when directed at someone. I may be disenchanted with, maybe even frustrated with, but by no means do I hate men. And even the "men" part of that statement comes with some qualifiers b/c I am only disenchanted with...maybe even frustrated with...SOME of the men that I have either encountered and/or dated. So no, I do not hate men and I hereby break ties with that statement.

In fact, as I sit here, I can think of 2 men that I'd love to absolute pieces, if we ever stepped our romantic game up. I can't really acknowledge them as crushes, b/c there is no one in my life giving me butterflies right now. But when I think of these 2 gentlemen (having met their families), I can picture being welcomed to the fold and treated as one of their own. And since both have at one point interacted with J, I can see them helping me to raise him to be an honorable and respectable young man. I can envision vacations, house parties, rainy Sundays, strawberry milkshake runs (lol), and family portraits at Ol.an Mills. My mind doesn't even get to ponder on the sex involved. I've only been with one of them in "that" way and **throwing up the field goal sign with both arms** it was good. Yes, I can see them meeting my needs and even the needs I have yet to need...but perhaps the reason that I'm not with either one is b/c I don't meet theirs.

It's all good though. These men are less about a chance as they are about a hope. I may never (and doubt that I will) get the chance to live out my fantasies with them, in particular. But as long as I keep their energy somewhere (even if they only reside in the deep and dark crevices) in my mind, then I have hope that I can meet someone else like them. Certainly, neither of them are perfect and both have annoyed me a time or 2 but I admire them for their spirituality, their character, their vision, their priniciples, their humility...heck, their overall "swagger".

And with that said, let me tell you what I DO hate.

**Tying soulja rag so tightly around my head that you can see the pulse of my temples and now involuntary "surprised" look on my face**

Lack of accountability - Does anybody remember that singing group "Pre.tty Ric.ky?" There were about 5 Rickies and not ONE of them bammas was "pretty"...I mean, downright rough and roughed up looking, right? Well, it just used to boggle my mind that they would come up with such rubbish. That's how I feel when a man starts spitting that nonsense that all his exes were crazy. So what you saying is...you got 5 exes and none of them bamas were sane? Not one, yo? And you don't think that this has ANY reflection on you? I can respect an "I messed up" but when you act as if you learned not one daggone thing from your previous relationships, I have a problem with that. Not that I care enough to assign any emotion to this now, but I remember when I found out that ole dude was sleeping with his ex. When I called him on it, he got angry and cussed at me for asking...yet he WAS sleeping with his ex. And I'm sure that I was labeled as "crazy" or a "b*tch" to the next one after that was all over.

Celebration of a$$hole-ishness - I couldn't think of a better way to phrase it, but I remember when this jack said (and I'm paraphrasing), "Well, I used to be the good guy but good guys get played for punks. Women seem to go for a$$holes. So now I'm that a$$hole." This whole mentality just makes my head hurt and blood boil. The day you lay your character to the side for a "piece" is the same day that you should realize that you have much bigger, deep-rooted issues. And what's worse is that you lack the courage or conviction to confront those issues. If that's not the quality of a punk, I don't know what is.

Cookie Monster Syndrome - this has been a debate in the past, but oh well, I still stand behind this. I know how to appreciate a GOOD man. But I get tired of dudes wanting cookies for the things that they are SUPPOSED to do. I was watching "Peo.ple's Court" yesterday. This fool got up there with an itemized list of things that he bought for his OWN kid and wanted to be reimbursed for them. He figured that since he had JUST started paying child support that this was reasonable for a certain time period that he had drummed up. As he reads off Pam.pers, milk, clothes, shoes, etc., I immediately thought that this was dumba$$ery at its finest. I think that it pi$$es me off b/c I count it an honor to be a mother and a privilege to be J's mother specifically. I CANNOT fathom a bigger turnoff than a guy that looks upon fatherhood as a burden. How crazy would it look if I decided on the day of my son's high school graduation that I would slap him with a detailed bill of expenses accumulated from newborn to now, asking to be reimbursed? If you answered, "it would look as if you're a grill short of a cookout", then YOU get a cookie.

OK, I have gotten all fired up, so I'll close...especially while I'm merely just disenchanted with...maybe even frustated with...SOME men that I have encountered and/or dated. All is not lost though. I've been frustrated by the Saints but I still support them. I've been frustrated with school, but will raise up my alma maters. Sometimes the things or people that we care the most about DO frustrate us. And when I see the positive potential in a situation or person that I care deeply for, I expect and want more. That's all it is. I want more than what I've been offered...more than what I've settled for in the past. So no, I do not hate men. Its just that b/c I love men, but more importanly, myself that I want more.

snooped doggy dogs

No Limit's last comment had me giggling all day at work. Whenever I deviated from being in the zone, I started thinking about when I used to "check up" on dudes. My momma always said that if you start lookin' for something, you'll be sure to find it. I guess that's what she was clinging to when she found that my dad hid extra souvenirs in his suitcase from one of our family trips to Chat-town. I also believe that that's what she called to memory when she needed a numerical code to pop the lock to the case, but thought that a butter knife worked better. Yes, she was truly the MacGyver of dysfunctional relationships. I always said that I'd NEVER be like that but nothing beat the "deer caught in head lights" look on my dad's face when my mom said that she drove by some lady's house and saw his car. It was funny seeing him try to stumble out of that one, especially since she hadn't even spent gas to go up to the cornerstore.

So here's the question...have you ever snooped on your man? And if so, what did you do? What did you find?

I think that I was 5 months pregnant when I first got the urge to verify that something was NOT right with J's dad, HLS (Habitual Line Stepper). I had come home from class and then logged onto my computer to check email and play around on the 'net. Does anyone remember "Coll.ege Club?" That used to be the jump off before Black.pla.net and certainly My.space. Well, I went to the webpage and, lo and behold, HLS hadn't logged out. J kicked me so I knew that he was trying to tell me to go through his dad's email and IM history. OK, ok...that is an exaggeration...just the email, lol. And I'll be damned if HLS wasn't talking to some chick like he was the most single man in the world! Then I found out that he knew that broad from school and she wasn't just some random internet harlot. My blood was boiling and I remember calling him IMMEDIATELY and telling him that he better get to the house and make this shyt right b/c I was about to pop J out, whip his a$$, and then resume pregnancy when my desire to beat the breaks off of him subsided. And that's when everything becomes a blur. He cut class and pieced together some tall tale that I swallowed and this marked the beginning of a cycle.

I started checking his voicemail...and that's when I learned of some chick, named Crystal, who just had to tell him via message that her girls don't understand why she likes him but she just had to get that off her chest. I thought that that was kinda funny b/c I couldn't decipher if this woman was setting him up or was young and stupid...lol, she couldn't have been more stupid than me since this dude was "with" me. I started digging in his bags and luckily, I didn't have to break out the trusty butter knife as an alternative to keying a code. I was counting condoms (and when they came up missing he said that it was b/c he loaned some to his boys), glancing at various pieces of paper with numbers scribbled on them (which always belonged to a classmate), and STILL checking voicemail and emails. I was driving myself crazy, but whenever I went looking for something, I most certainly found what I was looking for.

I have been lied to and lied on. I have been on the other side of the phone when a dude's woman discovered me by cell phone bill or text message...have had both pleasant and unpleasant conversations. I have had my life threatened and have had a woman to offer up her man b/c she was done with his cheating and lying.

Now, I'm just tired...and old. Now, it seems that intuition is enough. But in the past, had any of you snooped? Will you admit to it?

you a soulja, partnah...

So I spent another weekend with Tee (I think that we kick it, on average, every other weekend). Since Leezie has original oldgirls, I think that the Nolia in me is gonna start claiming soldiers...um, excuse me, souljas. And instead of giving out oldgirl cards, I'm gonna start distributing honorary soldier rags...eh, excuse me, SOULJA rags! And with that said, I gots to get something off of my chest, so forgive me for my choice of words or choppiness of this blog in advance.

If there is something that ANY woman can do for me...it would be to LOVE herself. I'm serious...it is critical that we sit down and take an honest inventory of our worth. So what does a woman loving herself have anything to do with me? Not a dayum thing! It just ANGERS me when I hear another woman downing herself or settling for another trashy a$$ man! Don't think that I don't know about low self-esteem and the consequences of it. I do and I'll admit to having HAD low self-esteem. But you know what? I know who I am. I won't even start preaching about how the enemy wants you to NOT know who you are in the kingdom of God b/c as long as you're uncertain of that, you have no clue of what you're capable of conquering. And I'm not about to pretend to be "bad a$$-ier than thou" b/c that attitude irritates me too. Most of the time, all of that loud talk that this so-called "bad-a$$" woman is spittin' is just to convince herself that she's about something. Well, sista, you ARE about something, so you don't have to talk loud to ATTEMPT to prove it. And to the other ones that DON'T speak up AT ALL b/c they don't think that they deserve better, SHAME ON YOU!

Tee and I were having a girl's night Friday night, when she said something that totally disrupted my flow. She spun another tale about a dude dogging a woman...the woman knowing that she was being dogged, but continuing to deal with dude b/c well, in her mind, it's better than nothing. I know dude a little too well, so the Nolia in me wanted to drive through his front door and have him catch my boot with his throat! And as far as the chick was concerned, I was hot behind her thought process. But I think that the reason why I was SO MAD was b/c I saw myself in that situation. And I think that almost EVERY woman with some life experience has been in that situation...and seriously, if you can't lay your "bad $$-ier than thou" attitude to the side to relate to this situation, then this message is not for you...I'm only addressing the REAL women, the REAL souljas! REAL souljas have made mistakes, but instead of wallowing in them or denying them, they have grown from them.

Allow me to take the time to clear up some misconceptions...not having a man does not equate to having nothing! Let's dig a little deeper...not having a man does NOT determine your worth! Why is that such an obvious statement, but so hard for women to believe? Not having a man DOES NOT mean that you're ugly...not having 5 or so men wearing out your cell phone DOES NOT determine your level of attractiveness or lack thereof. It just bothers me b/c I'm wondering when did men become coated in platinum or some rare breed. Can someone help me understand why a woman can have multiple degrees, can hold down a household by herself, can be professionally accomplished, can make a dollar out of 15 cents, can strengthen her community, can set personal goals and exceed them, can stop traffic when she glides down the street, and etc., etc., etc., yet NEED a man to validate her? Can someone help me understand why this same woman downs herself or worse yet, is judged by other women b/c she doesn't have a man or 2 salivating after her, at the moment?

Don't get me wrong...I love men and I'm not suffering from peni$ envy or whatever else, but I'm wondering when did a man become the "end all be all" status symbol. And I came into this world alone, so at what point did a man define who I am? Fugg that! I am so serious...I am sick of witnessing catty foolishness over a trashy a$$ man. I am sick of girlfriends calling me, wanting me to help them figure out where their man's head is at when THEY haven't even nailed down what THEY want or need out of the relationship. I am sick of girlfriends whining about giving their all to said trashy a$$ man when the man absolutely did not deserve what she had to offer, in the first place...AND THEY KNEW THIS! When did we become so desperate that we just give ANY man our number only to duck and dodge him in the long run? I can understand wanting companionship, but DAYUM! C'mon ladies, this is TIRED! I'm not saying that ALL men ain't sh*t! I'm not even really addressing men. I just want women to stand strong! And not that phony stuff either.

One of my close girlfriends was challenged to write 10 good things that she has to offer to a relationship. The idea was that if she sat down and actually wrote 10 good things about herself, then she would price herself out of the mar.ket of men that she was choosing. But what she said blew me away. She said, "I'm scared that if I sit down to write it that I won't be able to come up with 10." I guess that I was supposed to join her in her self-pity. I missed that memo b/c I immediately became pi$$ed off! You mean to tell me that out of all of the 30 years of your existence, you don't think that you can come up with 10 GOOD things?! SHAME ON YOU!

I challenge EVERY woman who reads this to write out 10 good things about themselves...and not that superficial stuff like, "I'm the finest woman on my block," b/c that's just bullsh*t. I'm talkin' 'bout REAL soulja things! Place it in your journal, post it on your blog...hell, post it in my comments, if necessary...just know that you are about SOMETHING! I'll start...

1. I am DANGEROUS with a screwdriver and a hammer.

2. From the loss of my mom to Hurri.cane Katr.ina, I have had a portion of my foundation taken from me twice...but I'm still standing by the grace of God.

3. I am a single mom, raising an up and coming productive member of society.

4. I have an awesome sense of humor.

5. I am an artist at heart. If I put my mind to it, I can paint a picture of something that someone would be willing to pay for.

6. I am stronger than what the last man gave me credit for.

7. Although I haven't been in my discipline for long, I find that I am surpassing those that have been doing what I do for many years.

8. I am financially savvy.

9. I have failed at a few things, but from those experiences, many of my successes were born.

0. I can write this list of good things about myself and make it look easy!

And there it is. Know that you are "fearfully and wonderfully made" and ANY man that YOU choose to date has GOT TO BE worthy of YOU. I'm handing out soulja rags, mommas! Come and get yours!

mack the knife (in my heart)

So I just got home from DC and I had a wonderful time. All the club fanatics out there can have the club scene...as I may have mentioned before that I don't like tight spaces and crowds or being intensely eyed up and down throughout the night. But what I did enjoy IMMENSELY was the play. It was actually better than I thought. Originally, I just wanted to see it b/c Mack was in it, but it was so interesting to actually see him perform. I've seen him in a couple of movies (by accident b/c I try not to see stuff that he's in...it doesn't make sense, I know), but this was much different.

I have to interrupt this report to tell ya'll just how fly I was, lol. I find that I have been pumping myself up a lot lately...not sure if that's a good or a bad thing, but it isn't normally in my nature to constantly tell people that I'm cute. I don't feel as if that's ever necessary b/c I am what I am and I don't need to convince anyone of anything. But last night **moment of silence**, I was on point once again. I had already roller-wrapped my hair early in the morning. I was going to wear a dress that I wore to my 28th birthday dinner, but when I peeped in my closet, I spotted this little black dress...and I mean LITTLE! Honestly, I don't even remember buying this thing b/c I've never worn it. Just as long as it touched my knees, I was in business...and so it did. I slipped on my red heels and was out. The goal was...I didn't plan on sleeping with Mack but dayum if I wasn't going to make him want to rip my clothes off on sight.

I met up with Navy at his boy's spot and as soon as he saw me get out of the car, he was slinging compliments like they were the joker cards at a Spades game. I knew I was good, b/c again, getting compliments outta Navy are hard, but they're starting to lose their value b/c he's been throwing them out a lot at me lately. This is making me wonder things that I don't really want to b/c just like our night at my company's Holiday Party, he was putting his arm around my shoulder or waist or grabbing my hand at random moments in the night. Mayne, this is my twin. He knows how I feel about Mack...hell, he's seen men come and go and knows everything about them, so this is still weird to me. Anyways, we picked up this other chick that he knew and headed for the play.

I was so nervous for some reason...it might have been the DC streets b/c if you're not from there and haven't been there for long, you don't know what the hell is going on with their grid system. We're sitting there in the theater, looking all distinguished, when Navy reads of Mack's accomplishments in the play bill. He suddenly says, "I guess now I can stop hating on him." I gave him the gas face. I didn't know what that was supposed to mean and he didn't care to elaborate too much, so I left it alone. I was just fighting memories of the last time that Mack and I were together and when he walked out on that stage, looking as fine as ever, those memories were the performance that I cared to repeat.

The play was very entertaining and I did learn something new, but I was wondering if I were going to actually go backstage to see him b/c my nerves were kicking in. And all of this strong woman talk that I had in my previous blog felt like it was about to fall to the wayside. Once the play was over, I went up to the stage and watched the actors take pictures and then got one of the actresses on stage to let him know that I was there. This guy came out, confirmed my identity, and then said that he was going to take me backstage. I felt all big-time for some reason...waved to Navy and ole girl and then I was on the move. When he finally finished changing clothes and walked out, I could hardly remember what I was going to say. He hugged me and I wanted to stay right there. We spoke for a minute before he had to meet back up with the cast and crew. I told him that I couldn't talk long b/c my friends were waiting on me. But he held my hand and kept asking me where I was going. I was at the mercy of Navy so I was basically going to go to whatever clubs he had lined up. Mack grabbed my phone and put his number in it and told me to text him when I knew what the deal was. I wondered how long before I would have to delete this number too.

My clothes didn't get ripped off on sight, but I know that he was thinking it, lol. Mission accomplished...I could've driven back to VA right after that and would've been done for the night.

I saw Colo.nel Tay.lor from A Diff.erent Wo.rld...random, I know.

So anyway, we're texting back and forth while I'm in the car with Navy and this is what I learned. Mack was going to hit up the clubs that his boys owned and Navy wasn't interested in going to those clubs...so my chances of catching up with Mack again were slim to a$$ out. We ended up at some club where Bi.z Mar.kie was DJ'ing and I immediately felt clostrophobic. Navy commenced to putting his arm around me at those random times that I mentioned and sponsoring my drinks, so you could forget about any other dude talking to me. I still got the stare down on the low, but he was by my side the whole night. This didn't so much matter and maybe it wasn't on purpose. It wasn't a big deal b/c I wasn't looking to hook up with anyone in DC. But when my phone died, my mood changed b/c that ended my texting. I'm thinking that I still have some sort of feeling for Mack and that perplexed me. My only reset button from my introspection was when Beyonce said, "Drop down low and sweep the floor with it." I realized that I may be getting old-er, but I was able to drop it and get back up...Yep, I still got it.

All in all, I had a good time. I'm glad that I got to see Mack, but I'm a little sad that I'll probably be thinking about him more often than I need to for the time being. Hopefully, he'll think about me from time to time...and how he wanted to rip my clothes off on sight, lol.

no fire

So, I was walking around on the roof of a school today, realizing that the reason that I'm so short is probably b/c I am afraid of heights. Being up there wasn't the problem...the ladder propped up there was the problem. And then when I asked a janitor where the basement was, he kindly pointed me in the direction of a crawl space. I took one look at the piping and realized that in order for me to find what I was looking for, I would have to slither around on my back with this small flash light (probably in my mouth). Hell to the naw. I told buddy that he could close that accessway right on up, b/c I wasn't going in. One rat or the litter of some creature decides to crawl on top of me and this school is getting to' down! And this is when I realized...this is certainly not my calling. I don't normally play the prissy role, but I am too cute to have my head all buried in dirt...plus, I'm trying to hold on to my bun for the next 2 days before I relax my hair this weekend and I refuse to look like "who shot John" tomorrow and Friday.

I was doing this site visit with Jesse's friend, (let's call him) John. When we were having lunch, this dude kept randomly bringing him up, so I could gauge from the conversation that he didn't know that Jesse and I briefly dated. John was talking about wanting a girlfriend but his track record was a lot worse than mine. And as we were discussing the qualities that one should look for in a mate, he started talkin' 'bout how Jesse constantly goes out and meets women in bars. I immediately started to feel nauseous. He went on to describe the kind of women that Jesse dates and the whole time I'm thinking, "Can he see just how uncomfortable I am?" "These women sound nothing like me." "And since they aren't anything like me, why was he playing the stalker role at work?" (That particular story is not even worth rehashing here b/c...well, just because.) That convo really didn't help my rooftop and crawl space experience as far as assessing my passion for my job.

Change of subject...

My boy, Navy, bought our tickets for this play that we're going to see in DC. Now, this all came about b/c Mack emailed me and told me that he will be in DC up until the beginning of April. And when I found out that he was in a play, I thought that it would be a good idea to go and see him live and in person. Since my January trip to NY didn't work out, this was as good of a time as any to be reunited. But uh...why is this dude playing me like a groupie?! All he does is email me; yet, he insinuated that I could stay the night with him when I got up there. I called up Navy and told him that I am so put off by men and their expectations. I worked out my "crashing" arrangements with Navy and then emailed Mack back and told him my plans and if he wanted to hang, then he'd have to call me. This dude emails me back and says that I should hit him up backstage after the show.

God, I just don't understand. Maybe he has gotten too famous for me and actually picking up the phone to call lil ole me is beneath him. Maybe between now and January, he scored a girlfriend. Who knows? And at this point, I don't even care...not even enough to b*tch about it via email. I have really gone soft on the email arguing and lately, I have been so short on my emails with people that I don't know if they truly know where my head is at. I have no fire for foolishness...and I don't give a hot damn who you are. But I know one thing, I plan to be on my A-game that night. Navy and I may do some clubbin' with his friends after the show, since one of his boy's birthday is the day before. I may see Mack and then again, I may not...but SOMEBODY is going to wonder why my fly a$$ is walkin' around unattached.

And considering the state of my relationships with the men that are hovering over the border of my life, unattached is just fine by me.

speak life

I believe in speaking things into existence or, biblically paraphrasing, life and death are in the power of the tongue. However, if God is operating within the supernatural realm, and I'm operating within the natural, I believe that it takes both of our works to make something happen. I do believe in miracles, but I don't live my life in hope of one...I feel that that's how you get trapped into being stagnant and in wait mode. THERE ARE sometimes when you have to BE STILL, but I find that that's still considered an action b/c it's easier for me to push for something to happen and do things out of order. Other times, I have to keep it moving and I'm sure that God wants me moving too. And of course, I have to be in alignment with God's Word before I call God to the carpet, remind Him of His word, and ask that He bless a situation. I know that God can work some mess out but the goal should be to get from point A to point B, the quickest way possible.

And I said that, but yet, I feel as if I rambled way past the direction of my post. Back to life and death being in the power of the tongue...

I get frustrated, impatient, discouraged, angry (which is the main thing that I'm working on with Suzie B), and experience all of these negative emotions that I allow to author my lines in my life's script. Overall, I think that I am an optimist, but there are certain aspects of my life that I just can't seem to get a handle on. Most of the time, I'm not even conscious of it and I'll start killing something before it starts. And then there are those times when you'd rather undercut the blow of disappointment by talking a situation down just in case it doesn't come to fruition. B/C it's better to be surprised that it turned out better than you had planned, right? But I have been charging myself to speak life into those situations...no matter how damn-near dead I think they are...and just work on how I deal with the emotional aftermath if it wasn't for me to have. I have to remind myself CONSTANTLY that God is probably working something out in my favor in the long run, but He knows that I kicks a mad fuss about it now.

I was rapping to one of my good g/fs, prayer partnuh, and serial monogamist, Doc T, in Chi-Town last night. The last time that I talked to her, she was dating some guy that I never got the chance to hear the details on. That had to be about a month ago. But it seems that now, she has a new man (who may or may not officially be her man), but as she was describing his traits, I think that I exhaled for her. My g/fs and I have been in some sh*tty situations, but Doc T is the queen of some chronic bad relationship syndrome. But I have never...NEVER...heard her speak negatively about relationships. About the men that she dated? Yes, and they deserved a little more than one negative word or 2. But the whole idea of a relationship was never tainted for her. I think that she just took the attitude that she was learning about herself or that these men were being removed from her life so that God can make room for the one that He'd have for her. In the meantime, she'd have some fun, battle a little heartbreak, and get busy with the joys of her single life. Doc T is just so genuine, the sweetest woman that I know, and listening to her struggle with her Christian priniciples in this day and age of dating makes me chuckle sometimes. But I find her honesty and wit to be one of her most engaging and refreshing qualities. Sometimes she unknowingly lingers around that TMI realm, but there's still that unexplained innocence about her. She's just real.

In comparison, once a relationship dissolves for me, the first thing that I say is, "Dating is hazardous to my health" or "I don't want to be in a relationship" or "I'm not ready for a relationship." Truth be told...I want to be in a relationship, b/c eventually, I DO want to get married. I have to learn to be comfortable with admitting that, b/c I have to be true to my heart. And the whole "not ready for a relationship" phrase is crap. Whether or not I'm ready for a relationship...or the one that I desire...is in God's hands. I believe that sometimes He doesn't give you things b/c you're not mature enough to handle it correctly. Let me walk up on a man with a spiritual backbone, good job, excellent work ethic, SANE, allergic to drama, and can get his Emer.il on. I mean, a motivator, a trailblazer, a financial chief rocka that can match my wit and sexual appetite...if I told him to kick rocks b/c I so-called wasn't ready for a relationship, it must be b/c I'm smoking them. I don't know if God thinks that I'm ready for that, but I'm shaking my head HARD right about now. **Goes outside to point God towards my address and confirms that he has the right number**

Sure, there are many benefits to being single...I don't have to hear about how often I watch HGTV or compromise that b/c the game is on. I don't have to turn down the heat b/c other people are burning up in the house. I don't have to juggle a checkbook with another person, get mad b/c they impulsively bought a Playstation 10 or explain why I needed some new kicks or another wall sconce. But all of those compromises are small in comparison to the blessing of a healthy marriage. And it's b/c healthy marriages don't seem to be prevalent in our society that great care must be taken in the dating and relationship phases. I have to be patient. I have to be still. But first, I have to speak life into my situation. I DO want a relationship with the RIGHT man. And if I keep bumping into the wrong ones and not taking heed to my intuition or God's word, please let them be quickly removed. I'm young, but too old to fall back on not knowing what I want in a man. I know what I want or I, at the least, got the basics down...I won't even venture to speak on what I deserve. But right now, it's my prayer that I stay happy in my singleness so that I can recognize and deflect nonsense.