"We don't Superman no mo'. We just Super-STALK that..."

You know the rest. (Thanks, Soror, for the quote!) You ever get a random call from someone you haven't spoken to in ages? How about this for a funny story:

I am at the office and have just finished my morning routine of checking four e-mail accounts (one for work; the other three personal) and my three favorite blogs (shouts out to Nineteen Sixty-Nine), when my phone rings. Checking the caller ID, I notice the caller is from a strange (as in, I don't know who this could be) area code. I thought about all the resumes I had sent to various firms in the past few weeks, so, I put on my best "work voice" and answered. As soon as I heard the other voice on the line, I thought to myself... W.T.F. It was a guy I used to date many moons (okay, really only 6-7 months) ago, with whom I deliberately stopped communicating for various reasons.

I told him that I was surprised to hear from him... especially on my work line (since I had never given him the number and we were never at the point where we called each other at the job). He explained that he had recently moved out of the city for a better job opportunity, that only a few of his friends knew he was moving beforehand, and that he had gotten a new cell phone and inadvertently lost all the numbers from his old one. And just how did he get my phone number at work? Let's just say he looked it up on a website that shares all my professional contact information.

Being the skeptical person I am, I don't know that I completely buy his story about losing the numbers from his old phone. Considering the fact that I stopped answering and returning his phone calls in early summer, I suspect he called me at work because he knew I would not answer some random number on my celli. Oh, well. I guess we really don't Superman no mo'. But, super-stalking is so not a good look.

Under Construction

Today is one of those days that I feel like I have my entire life ahead of me and I can do anything I dream! Right now, I'm at the point where I am starting my career and cementing what I want out of life and who I really am. Some days I feel truly lost. I find myself asking what step am I supposed to take next? What if I make a wrong turn? What does the future hold? I plan to make a big move, both location- and career-wise, in the next year. It fills me with excitement to finally get a change of scenery (I don't call this place "Tallawacky" for nothing) and to pursue other avenues of my profession. However, it is also easy to get discouraged from making such moves when one thinks of how comfortable one's current situation is. I know, though, that I want more out of life and that I have outgrown my surroundings. I only hope that things work out in the end, like they always have.

Just Call Me Bill

Recently, I was on the phone with a (never-married, childless, thirty-something) guy friend and, as it is wont to do, the conversation turned toward romantic relationships. Particularly, we were theorizing about ever-changing dating rituals and the mentality modern women and men have toward marriage. Then, this clown said the unthinkable. It went like this:

Guy: I'm not sure I want to get married. I mean, I just don't know if it's worth it.

Pretty: ~silence~

Guy: You want to know the reason I would get married? It's like eating dinner when you're not really hungry. You know if you don't eat, you're going to wake up in the middle of the night starving. That's how I feel about marriage. I don't really want to jump the broom, but I feel like I should, lest I wake up ten years from now wanting a big plate of fried chicken and macaroni and cheese.

Pretty: That's oh so romantic. I'm sure your future wife would just love that proposal. ~smirk~

Mind you, this is coming from a man who grew up in a nuclear family, fully equipped with a Dad, Mom, kid sister and the proverbial white picket fence.

Kids sure say the darnedest things.

"But, doesn't that just defeat the purpose?"

As a woman who loves to learn, I enjoy television shows such as 60 minutes.

[As an aside, the result of this love of learning is that I know various random facts... remember Rosie Perez's character on "White Men Can't Jump"... foods that begin with the letter 'Q'... yeah, that's Pretty.]

This episode about an online registry of children created (formed? made?) when their mothers went to their local sperm banks and subsequently got artificially inseminated with the "specimens" proved to be most interesting.

The identities of donors are not disclosed in order for them (and the banks, I presume) to avoid liability. A donor number, however, is provided for general record keeping purposes. This website, created by a woman who bore a child formed with sperm from a bank, allows people to list their "fathers" by donor number and to provide contact information for their siblings to reach them. The result is a network of children born by way of donors identified only by a series of numbers and letters, where true-life long-lost brothers and sisters find each other, often later speaking, and sometimes even meeting and forming lasting relationships!

The owner of the site tracks when matches are made. I was shocked, and a little disgusted, when she revealed that the record-holding donor had TWENTY kids who had registered with the site. I was creeped out because I just cannot imagine a man going half on a baby... twenty times... and getting paid for it! The show also highlighted a man, now a doctor, who had provided over 200 specimens at $50 each, and who recently volunteered his contact information on the site. Not only is he currently married and expecting his first child, but he continues to make donations at the bank. When asked whether he could conceivably have "fathered" over 100 children in the world, he replied, "conceivably." :-

My very good friend, with whom I shared the gist of this episode, focusing on the part about the website, asked... "But, doesn't that just defeat the purpose?" I tend to think it does and will attempt to explain...

I realize that these donors provide a tremendous resource and therefore, I am not in any way negating their importance. However, when I think of going to a sperm bank to get specimen which I would use to be artificially inseminated, I do not suppose I would affiliate a face, let alone a body, to the donor. I think I would view the donor as a mere "tool" that assisted me in creating the baby that I wanted to make. Consequently, I also do not suppose I would envision that other babies, helped along the way by the same donor, would be my baby's brothers and sisters. In fact, (and perhaps this is a tad childish), I think I would view my child as a sole creation of my own; sort of like divine creation, but with science (forgive me, Father). Currently, though, there are a multitude of women who feel differently, as evidenced by the website's popularity.

According to statistics cited on the show, the majority of persons going to sperm banks in the past were married heterosexual couples who, for whatever reason, could not produce a child on their own. In those cases, I surmise, it was easy for the biological father's role to be wiped away, as these families included both a mother and a father, and therefore, (I am not condoning this behavior), the visit to the sperm bank did not have to be advertised to those outside the marriage. The couple could simply find a donor with similar characteristics to the husband and proceed as normal. (Oh, Sean, she looks just.like.you.)

However, as times have changed, the trend has become one where mostly single women or lesbian couples are lining up to choose the traits they want in a child and trekking to the sperm bank to try to find the perfect fit. (I want her to have curly hair and full lips!) In these situations, it is more difficult to explain away the origin of one's little bundle of joy. And, because a father, as well as his extended family, are lacking in these cases, mothers are deciding that they want their children to have something connecting them to the other half of their DNA. Therefore, these mothers of sperm bank siblings are insuring that their offspring at least know each other.

This is the lifeline of the aforementioned website, which, at the time of taping, had 7,000 people registered. I can only wonder how many matches will be made in the future. But, does the site just defeat the purpose?

So, Jasmine, when's lunch?

I thought I would share an amusing story (which some of you might understand) to lighten the mood after my last post. This is a long one, so try to keep up. And note, all names have been changed to protect the innocent and guilty alike. ;-)

During a huge weekend here in town for African Americans, a young woman, let's call her Yasmin (pronounced Yaz-MEEN), went to her favorite spot to see and be seen (ladies, you KNOW how we do!) She daintily sat at the bar, sipping Riesling and viewing the sights. Eventually, Yasmin and her friend, Amaya, were accosted by a well-known professional male. He wedged himself into the area next to Amaya and introduced himself as PLG, after which he leaned over Amaya and extended his hand to meet Yasmin. It went a little something like this:

"I'm PLG, nice to meet you."

"Likewise. I'm Yasmin (pronounced Yaz-MEEN)."

"I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name."

"Yasmin (pronounced Yaz-MEEN)."

PLG, confused, looked to Amaya, who said, "It's Yasmin (pronounced Yaz-MEEN)."

"Oh, okay, Yasmin (Yaz-men)."

Yasmin, slightly agitated, said in a louder tone, "No, YasMIN (pronounced Yaz-MEEN, dude)!"

"Oh, I got it. Jaslene."

At this point, Yasmin had grown tired of screaming out her name. She realized that it was loud at the bar and that PLG might just have been inebriated. She did not think that Mr. PLG would be able to get it together. Furthermore, all her life, people had mispronounced her name, often times calling her Jasmine. So, she decided that it would be easier to tell PLG her name was just that.

"It's JASMINE."

"Oh, Jasmine. Well, it's so very nice to meet you, Jasmine."

Jasmine smiled sweetly and continued to sip her wine.

The next night, PLG was again in the mix, this time at an invite-only dressy affair. When he and Jasmine crossed paths, she mouthed hello and was just about to give him her sexy smirk, when, SCREEEEEEEEECH.... PLG said:

"Nick (Yasmin's biggest mistake) told me that your name is not Jasmine and that you must have lied to me."

Yasmin laughed softly and explained the situation. PLG thought it was funny, too. Before he walked away, Yasmin inquired as to what other things Nick had told PLG...

And you give me the most gorgeous sleep that I've ever had...

I watched Music and Lyrics over the weekend, and it reminded me of how I adore the song "Underneath It All." Whenever I hear Gwen sing-speak this line...a flood of emotions washes over me. Such a simple concept, yet so profound: a relationship where each night, you sleep a sweet slumber, knowing that your significant other is doing right by you. You trust it so much that not only is there no sleep lost, but you rest peacefully, beautifully...gorgeously.

I long for a lovely sleep into which I fall gently, eyes fluttering, a subtle smile across my face as the sandman guides me into what promises to be a night filled with pleasant dreams. Instead, Corrine Bailey Rae currently sings the soundtrack of my life.

"It's late and I'm feeling so tired...having trouble sleeping."

But, I'm not falling in love. In fact, I'm trying to fall out of it. And all the restless nights? Blame them on the constant war between logic and emotion.

"Well, we just want different things."

One summer, I was overcome by stress and got a little reckless. It wasn't just me, of course...all my friends were stressed, too. We were about to face perhaps the most important and difficult test in our lives. Yes, we were all a little loopy, and this was manifested in various ways among the ranks. I blame this agitated state for losing my oh-so-pretty head one particularly balmy night.

I met him at an all-night coffeeshop. Wearing a white billowy dress with cork-heeled sandals that were bronze, I did everything I could to distract him from his feigned study. Finally, "we" became the topic of conversation. Let me first explain that this was not a date. We saw each other every day and casually flirted, but were not courting by any means. So, you should be just as surprised as I that at the end of the night, after a lengthy discussion about our expectations of the opposite sex and the future, including his desire to live surrounded by his entire family on what came to be known as "the compound" among my friends, I ended our (burgeoning? potential?) relationship by telling this gentleman:

"Well, we just want different things."

My chums and I still laugh at how I broke up with him prior to us ever having been anything more than associates.

Fast forward to last night...different conversation...different man...similar circumstances, including the anxiety. I would be less than honest if I failed to mention that I almost said the exact same phrase once more... but I thought of that night last summer and stopped myself! I have a reputation to protect, you know. And Pretty is as pretty does. :-)

Be careful what you ask for... you might just get it!

The wonderful world wide net provides a refreshingly accessible conduit for stalk-... ahem... "researching" just about anyone. But, today, I should have known better than to take the bait. The cardinal rule for my profession is never ask a question to which you don't already know the answer. This followed closely by "deny, deny, deny!" ;-) So, when a friend of mine gave me just enough search terms to discover an online messageboard on which he discusses His feelings about different aspects of relationships... despite my better judgment... I could not forgo the opportunity. CARPE DIEM!

His quips were not terrible. Nor were they directed at me. But, they provided me with a few facts of which I was unaware, and most importantly, were brutally honest, thereby offering a varied insight into His mindset to which I would not have otherwise been privy. (As most know, one is usually less harsh when discussing sensitive topics with those one loves.) The extremely rational (almost to a fault) part of me said, "Pretty, this is the internet. People say all kinds of things that they don't mean when their statements are anonymous." Not a second later, I thought about this (for lack of a better description) online journal of mine...

I keep things vague enough to conceal my identity and that of those involved in my posts (at least I HOPE that is the case!). However, I am strikingly frank when I sit for a spell and write a new entry. The logic that allows me to so candidly write about myself and share my thoughts because I do so using a pseudonym likely applies to Him. And because my curiosity would not let sleeping dogs lie, I have opened a Pandora's Box of sorts.

Wouldn't it be something if this were all part of a grand scheme that He created to lure me to this information? Whatever the case may be, I got what I asked for and much more. And, although I love to unwrap presents to find the treasures inside, these nuggets of knowledge could have stayed under the tree.

"SHE chased HIM until HE caught HER."

Men often talk about wanting women to let them feel like men. A portion of this requires women to sit idly by waiting on the man of their dreams to pick them out of the bunch (as opposed to taking the initiative to seek their husbands). However, an entire storyline is often left out of the plot we call love. And, pun intended, women must plot to be plucked.

Recently, I had a discussion with a guy friend who advised an engaged young woman that, if she ever wanted to become a bride, she had to "LIE, LIE, LIE" to her fiancee about the staggering number of men with whom she had been intimate. According to him, the fiancee would not be able to stomach the fact that her list of partners was so numerous. If this isn't a plot, I don't know what is, and at the advice of someone who would know, no less.

I guess the young lady's mother never told her that as a woman, she should always "keep a little something" to herself. Otherwise, she would never have considered disclosing her checkered past to the man she intended to marry.

With prerequisites in mind, we all subtly pursue our potential Prince Charmings by constantly demonstrating we meet "wifey" criteria. You have to audition in order to get the part, right?

I once had a male coworker tell me I was "designed to be a wife." At this, I demurely smiled and softly thanked him. Pretty is as pretty does.

Reminisce on the love we had...

Tonight was random. I judged two groups of first-year law students doing Oral Argument assignments. It was a favor for my Legal Writing professor. At first, I was annoyed that I had signed up to do it, but once I was there... it was AWESOME! It was sooooooooooo nostalgic. Especially since my partner was one of the other judges! Anyway, I remembered how I was that first year, and I was re-energized to fulfill my dreams of being a great ATTORNEY.

Anyway, the nostalgia continued as I went to a certain classy bar to meet my best friend in town. I was cute... but guess what, y'all! I had on (SHHHHHHHHHHHHH!) FLIP FLOPS!!!!!!! Anyone reading this who KNOWS ME... also knows that I DO NOT wear flip flops to "events." But, tonight, I wanted to look cool and casual, and the bronze flippers totally worked. Nostalgic moment of the night came when I saw "my biggest mistake" in the cafe. I'll be damned if he didn't look good. Most ironic is that I was JUST THINKING about him and his sexy back tatoo, that is SO unexpected when he's clothed! But, I didn't sweat him. In fact, I hardly noticed him! We did make some contact, though, when he hugged me and I gave him the obligatory kiss on the cheek. I also got a picture of him, though not with my own camera (HEY! we were taking pictures BEFORE he even imposed himself in the crosshairs!) It's cute. The problem is this: I think he was totally there with his BABY MAMA, but I couldn't tell if that woman was there with him or his brother?! :- That's the screwface, for those of you who can't tell. By far, I had a great night, especially looking hot in front of certain someones and leaving the bar without a care in the world. Mind you, I was not inebriated...

Anyhow, there's room for more nostalgic moments, as I sent a text message to an old flame. This NEGRO had the nerve to say he thought I had lost his phone number. UMMMMMMMMMMMMM... excuse ME?! Last time I checked... the MAN was supposed to pursue the WOMAN. And clearly, I am not a man. But, then again, neither is he. So, I guess I should understand. LOL. One time for Riesling. :-)

The Black Woman's Resolution to "Racy" Relationships?

While skimming the Hilltop (Howard University's publication) online, I came across this: http://www.thehilltoponline.com/media/storage/paper590/news/2006/11/08/LifeStyle/Many-Get.Defensive.On.Black.Men.Boycott-2446633.shtml?norewrite200611081001&sourcedomain=www.thehilltoponline.com&mkey=1504410.

Like you, I was in utter shock when I read the article. Boycott BLACK MEN?! Are you nuts?! I think I speak for many a sister when I say that although I complain often about the (perceived) lack of eligible black men, I have never... ever, ever, ever... thought to go all Rosa Parks (RIP, Soror) on them as a whole.

So... what would make a group of black women go so far as to create a website for the sole purpose of encouraging other black women to join the crusade with the common thread being their tire "of our black men that leave our race and marry outside our race profiting off the black community while they in turn, turn their backs on us?" As I read, I concluded that whether there truly is a dearth of decent available brothers, black women all over the world feel as though they are on the short side of the supply AND demand curves.

I have said many times "there are no good black men out there." You know the old tune: either they're married, gay or even worse, prefer white women.

The title www.blackwomenneedlovetoo.com alone goes to show that the trend of black men dating and marrying outside their race has profoundly impacted today's black woman. This affect is compounded by the still present taboo presented when black women explore relationships with other races. Since we've heard all the reasons why brothers look elsewhere, I won't delve into them here. But, why do black women choose to so closely stick to our brothers when we believe that they would rather be in Becky's arms? Or at least the arms of someone that has hair like hers?

I must admit, I watched the movie "Something New" over the weekend. I can totally empathize with Kenya, the main character. Like she, I am a professional trying to find my niche in corporate America. As I climb each rung of the proverbial ladder, the pool of attractive mates grows smaller and smaller. I guess in my fantasy world (read: when I was still a student), there was a wealth of fine-tall-black doctors, lawyers and engineers in the "real world" who could hardly wait to ask for my hand in marriage. Hmmmmm.... not so much. But, just in case, I'll keep my my mind and heart open and maybe, just maybe, I won't have to race to the other end of the color spectrum.

I only roll with cute (classy, clever, confident) chicks!

Tell me who your best friends are, and I will tell you who you are. If you run with wolves, you will learn how to howl. But, if you associate with eagles, you will learn how to soar to great heights. "A mirror reflects a man's face, but what he is really like is shown by the kind of friends he chooses." The simple but true fact of life is that you become like those with whom you closely associate - for the good and the bad. The less you associate with some people, the more your life will improve. Any time you tolerate mediocrity in others, it increases your mediocrity. An important attribute in successful people is their impatience with negative thinking and negative acting people. As you grow, your associates will change. Some of your friends will not want you to go on. They will want you to stay where they are. Friends that don't help you climb, will want you to crawl. Your friends will stretch your vision or choke your dream. Those that don't increase you, will eventually decrease you. Consider this: Never receive counsel from unproductive people. Never discuss your problems with someone incapable of contributing to the solution, because those who never succeed themselves are always first to tell you how. Not everyone has a right to speak into your life. You are certain to get the worst of the bargain when you exchange ideas with the wrong person. Don't follow anyone who's not going anywhere. With some people you spend an evening: with others you invest it.

I must admit... I'm guilty by association!

Appreciate those who love you even if it's not in the way you want...

So, today is Valentine's Day. Although I don't have a significant other, I was reminded that there are many people in this world who love me and their love is just as important as the romantic sort. I got roses and a card from my mommy. I also got one of the infamous heart-shaped containers holding assorted chocolates from a friend. The "bad kids" at work took me to birthday/Valentine's Day lunch. I even got a plant for my office. An e-mail from an old friend brought a smile to my face. And the various text messages from others simply wishing me a happy V-Day was enough for me to relish in all the PINK, red and white that makes February 14th what it is. Ultimately, even if I didn't share today with the love of my life, the loves in my life made it a special occasion. For that, I am grateful.

Go Shawty! It's your BIRTHDAY!!!!!!

Well, you can't find me in the club, but I am celebrating "another year better" on this day.... February 11. Since it's not polite to ask a lady her age, logic (at least MY logic) follows that it's also not impolite if I choose to conceal such information. I'll only call myself "twentysomething" and quote the one and only Jay-Z... "thirty's the new twenty." And, no, I'm not 29. Or 28 for that matter. :-)

Anyhow, I know it's been a while since my last post, but I've been busy being fabulous and what-not. However, I felt compelled to write considering that today, the anniversary of my birth, is such a momentous occasion!

So, what insight have I learned (or learned better) from experiencing one more year in this world?

Here is one through ten, in no particular order:

1. Faith without work is dead.

2. Follow your instinct; it hardly ever fails you.

3. Always put your best foot forward, for you never know who might be watching.

4. Distinguish those who truly have your best interest as a priority from those who do not; keep the former close, but don't forget the latter.

5. Be a good friend to those that are good to you; everyone else deserves cordiality.

6. Don't ever be afraid to dream!

7. Learn to listen. The skill is invaluable.

8. Stay true to yourself. Pretending to be someone you're not is exhausting.

9. Being this fabulous doesn't come easy!

10. It's cold at the top...