The Librettist's Musings

back to the middle

2010-08-30T09:38:00.002-05:00

i've always loved the india.arie song of the same title. it speaks to me on so many levels, because i've always subsribed to the belief that balancing yourself mentally, spiritually, and physically, is the key to living a long, happy life. everything in moderation, they say. i ALWAYS know when i am way off kilter. lately, i haven't been feeling like myself. and i have been acting out. in little ways here and there, nothing major, but acting out for sure.

"it's when you're in that valley, you can see both sides more clearly."

indeed.

Open Letter to the Perpetual Sidepiece: Situations v. Relationships

2010-04-29T00:26:00.009-05:00

Dear Perpetual Sidepiece:

If you didn't think I know who you are, I do. And I know you know me.

You admit you two were never "official" and you were "with" Him in a "non-monogamous relationship" (read: SITUATION) for the past several years. We both know that during that time, He has had at least two "official" exclusive relationships (read: RELATIONSHIPS), both of which you had knowledge; one in which He is still involved; and, clearly, neither of which included you. If by chance you don't understand what I mean by Him being in an "official exclusive relationship", I mean referring to the women as "girlfriend", introducing them to His friends and family as such, courting them, and being involved with them exclusively. You conceded you two never made your situation official, so I'm assuming He never claimed you as His girlfriend and you were never in a relationship. He probably hit you with the amorphous "friend" title all the time, huh? Did you ever meet His mother? Go on a family trip with Him? Did He involve Himself in the life of your daughter? I'll wait.........................

Oh *crickets* .........okay.

Did you feel like you were intruding on His relationships while you were just "with" Him, playing the perpetual sidepiece? (You were! And it was unfair to all involved!) How about when you kept in contact as a "friend" knowing you were still in love with Him and wanted more than friendship...a relationship, even? For future reference, disguising yourself as a "friend" didn't fool anyone; friends don't come with ulterior motives.

Seeking emotional support from Him, the sort a boyfriend would give his girlfriend when in a relationship, although He was no longer your person to go to for such support and you knew He was unavailable, was plain wrong. I wonder how you would feel if your new man had an ex that just wouldn't let go, sort of like you wouldn't let go of Him. Don't bother replying, I already know what you'll say.

At what point in the past several years did it matter to you that you were disrespecting His relationships and the women in those relationships by carrying on this emotional and perhaps physical affair, this...situation? I'd bet it DIDN'T matter to you. He was, after all, your future husband. *side eye* *eye roll*

You say He cheats on His current girlfriend? I'm guessing He was cheating with you, up until you decided to sever ties with Him very recently. I'm curious...at what point did you decide "commitment isn't for Him"....before or after you settled for being the other woman...settled on a situation versus a relationship?

Yes, He was dead wrong, but so. were. you. You helped Him cheat, whether emotionally or physically or both. Take responsibility for your own actions and stop playing the victim. Once you knew He had committed to a relationship with someone else (two someones else for that matter), you were playing YOURSELF by remaining the sidechick in a situation.

Oh...you thought it was okay for you to disrespect the next woman's relationship with Him because you loved Him and thought (for some strange reason, in light of the fact that, according to you, He never committed to you EVER) that He would ultimately be your future husband? GIRL, PLEASE. You are as selfish as He is.

In any event, kudos to you for moving on. I hope you stick to your guns and don't fall into the tried but true trap of going to him next time you need a shoulder to cry on only to inevitably becoming emotionally dependent on Him again and reignite the...situation. He clearly enjoys using this to his advantage and to your vast detriment. I call it Him getting girlfriend privileges without fulfilling boyfriend responsibilities.

A piece of advice: just because an otherwise unavailable man makes a piece of himself available to you doesn't mean you should take the bait. Have some self-respect and integrity. Require more than a situation. And respect other people's relationships.

As you were.

~Pretty P

My Life in Six Words

2010-01-04T16:58:00.002-05:00

Seeking meaning, finding none, I quit.

The Ultimate Measure of a Man

2009-04-22T12:31:00.003-05:00

The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.
~MLK Jr.

Somewhere, somehow, I have to find the courage to tell a man I truly, truly care about, a thing that will not fall softly on his ears. In fact, it will probably sound like nine-inch nails being scraped down a chalkboard, or worse. Right now, I can't even say the words aloud, not even in a whisper. I repeat them over and over in my head--while dressing in front of the mirror, in the car on the way to work, in the bed just as I'm drifting off to sleep--but when I try to voice them, the words get stuck in my throat, like bile. I'm not an actress, but I would kill for a script right now. It would start with my confession. Then his reaction. At least that way I'd know what happens at the end. Alas, I don't know what will happen, and it is this uncertainty that keeps me cowardly mum.

Interesting Morning (by a Guest blogger)

2008-07-02T09:14:00.002-05:00

Only my friend, Daddy's Little Girl, would do something like this! Enjoy!

I have had an interesting morning and I just had to share. A coworker came by my office to tell me about a group of us going to Harry's for lunch. I told him that I needed to know whether or not they were walking so that I could decide whether to go. I did not want to walk because I was wearing heels and the only other pair of shoes that I had in the office were black, and that would not match my outfit. As I proceeded to show coworker my brown heels, I then realized that messing up my outfit with black shoes was the least of my problems. I had inadvertently put on two different pair of shoes this morning - a brown open toe and a black open toe. And, the shoes were not the same style. So, this is my shame for today...Both pairs of shoes were by the door as I was rushing out this morning. The possibility of mixing up the shoes briefly crossed my mind, but I figured that my feet would be able to tell the difference. So, I decided to forgo taking the time to glance down at my feet. I can't even use pregnancy as an excuse anymore...

~Daddy's Little Girl

Exes and O

2008-06-08T12:38:00.004-05:00

This is a very old post that I just completed. I wanted to lighten the mood in here after my latest musings.

The scene: A discount department store in the home section.

The players: Missy* (my longest friend; we've been besties since the third grade); my ex-boyfriend's Mother, sister and niece; myself.

Background: The ex and I dated in high school. We spent two and a half years in a relationship, with the last year being our freshman year in college at different universities. Our relationship came to its demise after the ex went home for the summer and I spent the first half of summer away at school. (For the record, I can't believe we made it that long; I keep warning my younger brother that he and his GF will break up when he leaves her for her last year of high school to go off to his freshman year of college). I went home for the second half of summer, cried after seeing him out on a date (mind you, I was on a date, too), got over it and went back to school. I graduated on time (a semester early actually), went on to law school as planned and became an attorney. The ex, on the other hand, played around (it is perpetually spring break in the city where his college is located, so I can't fully blame him), took a year "off" and ended up transferring to a different school (ironically, the same one his parents wouldn't let him attend in the first place). Needless to say, he became a super senior and his plans of going to dental school fell by the way side. He recently graduated with his bachelors degree, a whole 7.5 years later. His niece is currently a student of Gayle's (my bestie who is a teacher at our former high school).

The story: One weekend, Missy and I decided we both needed new decor for our apartments. My tummy was hurting awfully bad and therefore, I was rubbing it as if a pregnant woman might. Missy turned and said to me, "You better stop rubbing your belly like that. People are going to think you're preggers." I laughed, protruded my stomach out as far as I could and continued to rub, all in order to mock her.

Enter the ex's family. Being the girl I am, I walked over and said hello. Hugs and "good to see yous" all around. The Mom asked me when did I graduate. At this point, I had been an attorney for 1.5 years and therefore, I told her, I've already made that walk across the stage. She proceeded to say, "I know, but aren't you in grad school?"

Sigh. I don't know what it is, but every time I see someone from back home, they think I am still in law school. Maybe their timing is off or they just can't believe it. Maybe my ex's mom put me on the delayed higher education schedule with that of her son. IDK.

I replied, "Yes, I graduated from law school 1.5 years ago. I'm an attorney." She looked overwhelmed for a second, congratulated me and said she was so proud. We exchanged pleasantries for a few more minutes then went our separate ways.

The following week, Gayle called and asked if there was anything I needed to tell her. "Um...no, not that I can think of. Why?" She told me the ex's niece asked her in class if I was married and if I was preggo. SHOCK.AND.AWE. Gayle said she told the niece, after admonishing her for asking inappropriate questions of course, that I was not in fact married and was not pregnant to her knowledge. I giggled and explained the sitch to Gayle.

See, that's how rumors get started.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.

******UPDATE******: I recently discovered the aforementioned ex is now a daddy! Congratulations, Charlie Brown!

Chasing Waterfalls

2008-06-08T09:39:00.006-05:00

My very sage best friend (let's call her Gayle, as in, Gayle and Oprah) told me the other day "sometimes we go different places searching for something that has been right in front of us the whole time." That statement hit me hard because...well...I feel as though even at this stage of my life I am chasing something that's been missing. I always tell people I have been wasting my fabulosity for years (thanks, Kimora). There is a portion of every young woman's life where she can get away with partaking in foolish behavior, such as dating athletes and other "industry" guys even though she knows it won't lead to anything just because he can get her and her friends into VIP and is willing to pay for shopping sprees and trips to the fun cities--you know, Miami, Vegas, DC, NYC--going out every weekend to swanky bars and clubs and to all the major events, and dressing as if she were walking down the catwalk even if she were just going to the grocery store (or, as my mommy would say, like she was at the BET Awards LOL). Unfortunately, this stage of my life was spent in a city where (1) the chances of running into athletes or any other men in the "industry" were about as good as those of winning the lottery (2) there were only a couple of semi-swanky venues and the "major event" was the local HBCU's homecoming festivities and (3) good shopping was nonexistent. See? A waste of my fabulosity. When I read this post of 1969's, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy because when I was younger, I imagined spending my single youth as 1969 described hers.

But, that is a part of my life that cannot be reclaimed. Of note, I'm still single, just not that young. In fact, I'm at the age where I'm "old enough to know better" and can't do the things a younger woman might. Yet and still, I've been planning my grand relocation to a more metropolitan area where fabulousness will be appreciated and expected.

I'm from a small city, comparable in size to my current location, but even less metro. Gayle went back to our hometown after she graduated from college and she's a teacher at the high school we attended. She says of course it would be nice to have things to do and places to go on the weekends and to meet new people, but she is so happy with her job that it makes up for it.

Blank.Stare.

That entire bit of reasoning baffles me. To note, I took my job, which has a predetermined duration, with a plan to relocate after my time there was up. But, even if my job were permanent and I loved it, I don't think that would be enough to make me stay in a city where I feel stifled in almost every other aspect. Unlike Gayle, I expect to be somewhere where I'll have things to do if I so choose and where I can go out and meet new people all the time! But, Gayle makes me wonder, is all that I want and need right here and I keep missing it because I'm so intent on leaving? Is it my destiny to be the proverbial big fish in a little pond, having to go out of town every weekend to get my fix of fabulousness in some other city?

That can't be. I'm simply too fly for that.

The Age of Aquarius.

2008-06-07T16:23:00.002-05:00

Aquarius, like all air signs you are remarkably adaptable, as you like change, movement and novelty of all kinds. The bringer of the unpredictable. Always ready to shock and rebel against everything. Aquarius is into personal freedom like no other. They love sudden change and can be perceived to be erratic and unstable. Often misunderstood...

In explaining to a friend (the Astrology Guru) how something I had said to a guy came out wrong, I noted that he typically misunderstands things I say. She said, "just like an Aquarius to say some sh*t wrong and be upset when the other person misunderstands them." She then went on to tell me that Aquarians like myself have a complete breakdown in communication with other signs. (This is the same person who told me Aquarians don't like to be tied/held down in any way shape or form, but like to tie other people down so that we may deal with them at our leisure...LOL). We typically live in our own heads and what we say is sometimes out there (i.e. otherwordly and futuristic). Thus, when I sent this e-card to Exie*, which was my way of saying hello... he, also an Aquarius, mind you, replied basically saying that communication is a two-way street. In other words, he took the e-card as me accusing him of not keeping in touch.

I thought the card was cute and funny and I really AM glad that we stay mildly interested in each other's lives. We don't talk all the time, but we generally keep up with each other. He should stop being so sensitive. ~shrug~ What do you guys think?

*THE Ex, whom I also refer to as my very own Mr. Big.

TGIF

2008-05-23T09:53:00.001-05:00

Just quickly checking in. I'm so glad it's Friday. I'm traveling home this weekend and I'm highly excited. Also, I am in talks with a recruiter for a firm I have been desperately trying to land an interview with! I have a really good feeling about this, so you guys keep your fingers crossed for me and send up some prayers! Have a great weekend and Memorial Day!!!!!!!! :-)

My thoughts.

2008-05-18T22:47:00.004-05:00

Is anyone else as excited about the SATC movie as I am?! I cannot wait until May 30. My friends and I will make a night of it, with the requisite dirty martinis. Fabulous clothes! Charlotte with child! Jennifer Hudson! Carrie marrying Chris, a.k.a. the one and only Mr. Big (I won't believe that until I see it)! How could I not love it?

Speaking of Mr. Big, I have a theory that every woman has one, and if she doesn't yet, she will. The lone guy that you will never quite get over completely, who you will continue to be madly in love with forever even though you know you two are not meant to be. He still manages to push your buttons when you speak to him, makes your heart skip a beat when you think of him, and can (almost, if the stars are aligned just so) still get it... He refuses to stay away (to be totally candid, partly because you won't force him to). Some deep connection makes it such that he gravitates to you and you to him yet everlasting love is not in the cards. Yes, THAT one. Well, my Big happened to call me this weekend out of the clear blue sky to tell me that he was "still alive and kicking, since you never call." I actually think he knows his role and is playing along, for he behaves, in typical I-can-come-back-into-your-life-at-my-leisure-and-you-will-still-be-there-with-bells-on Big fashion, as if I still "belong to him" (his words, not mine). I had to kindly remind him that I am not obliged to him and he has no entitlements to me or my time, but that I was happy he was still alive and well. ~cue Brit Brit's "Drive Me Crazy"~ If Carrie can marry her Big, can I do the same?

In other news, my brother graduates from high school in a week and a half. He is starting college this summer at an HBCU in the city where I live. I am so excited for him, probably more geeked than he is. What a wonderful time of life! He doesn't even recognize the magnitude of the journey he's about to begin. :-)

I have (what I call) a stalker: some guy I met while out of town with whom I exchanged numbers. He searched my name on facebook and added me as a friend. He sends me facebook messages and texts me every single day saying the exact same thing... "Hey, gorgeous. Have a great day. Call me. XX." I've not responded to any of his texts for the past three weeks (i.e. since I gave him my number), let alone dialed his number to speak to him. How long do you think it will take for the daily texts to stop? I think he almost got me today. I recently scored a new phone from Sprint after mine had an untimely death. Without the benefit of transferring the contacts out of my old phone, I can't specifically avoid Stan's calls/texts because I don't know his number. I have simply went to not answering any calls/texts from his particular neck of the woods. This is not the best plan of action considering there is a gentleman of the same area code with whom I would like to speak. ~sigh~

Apparently, I need to take lessons from Stan because I am about to start stalking this law firm where I had an interview a few weeks ago. I'm talking about making follow-up calls to the follow-up calls! They really need to go ahead and make me an offer...

I am still in love/lust/obsession with T.J. Holmes. La, fall back. LOL.

Six Random Things

2008-04-28T17:31:00.004-05:00

The rules are as follows:

* link to the person that tagged you : Miss B.

* post the rules on your blog

* share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself

* tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs

* let each random person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog

Six random things about myself... besides the fact that I'm just a really random person in general? Okay, here goes:

1) I have wicked road rage. I always ride with the windows up, but if someone in traffic does something I don't like, I tell them off as if they can hear me, with flailing hand motions and all. I only do this when I'm driving with no passengers (I'd never behave this way where people could actually hear me). I'm sure other drivers who witness this think I'm crazy. Now that I think about it, people seeing me is not so different from hearing me. LOL.

2) My first, middle and last names all have six letters. When I was younger, my mother ever so graciously pointed this out. It was not until a few years later that I realized the significance of 666.

3) Stacey Dash is my "aging gracefully" beauty icon since she always manages to look ten years younger than her current age. She has to have found the fountain of youth or something!

4) I'm a closet exhibitionist and I want to be a superstar! However, since I have no talent for singing, acting or modeling (I'm not being modest--I seriously don't), I'll "settle" for dancing in a music video choreographed by Fatima or the like, or maybe even traveling as a backup dancer on a Janet Jackson tour. I'm not a trained dancer, but I could totally pull it off. :-)

5) Ever since I was a little girl, I have dreamt almost nightly and I typically remember in detail what I've dreamt about when I wake. Common motifs in my dreams include water, tsunami-like waves, bridges and driving. I keep saying I'm going to start a dream diary but I've never gotten around to doing so.

6) I love to wear black nail polish on both hands and feet. Funny how just a couple of years ago, this would be considered "goth" but is now acceptable as fashionable. I wore black polish on my nails to my younger brother's beautillion and was complimented by young and old Sorors alike. I'm not going for the green is the new black nail polish craze that the majority magazines are pushing, though. I'm definitely not that trendy.

Bonus Point:

7) I'm TEAM OBAMA, snitches!

And since I don't think I even KNOW six bloggers to tag that Miss B hasn't already, this post is to be continued...

UPDATE: Daddy's Little Girl is officially tagged.

It's more than just a crush.

2008-03-26T09:45:00.003-05:00

It's an obsession. With CNN anchor T. J. Holmes. He's smart, but not nerdy. Sexy, but down to earth. Southern, but not country. For what more could Pretty ask? ~swoon~

Why you actin' like a... like a.... BIA! BIAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

2008-03-13T14:22:00.004-05:00

Mr. Holland's e-mail was brief, but funny. He told me that he didn't like being hooked up in this way and likened it to auditioning for a reality show. He also mentioned that he had e-mailed a few pics of himself to MM and that he hoped she had shared them with me (she had!). He ended the note by advising me to contact him if and when I wanted, and he requested that I send him a few shots of myself.

I was feeling particularly spicy, so I drafted a quick reply and attached three of my fav self-portraits. The next day, I found out that Mr. Holland had seen my pictures. He thought I was "incredibly beautiful." And....

He.was.now.SCARED.of.me.

Well, you scared! You scared!
Stop actin' like a b****! You scared!

What about me is scary? I wasn't donning my sexy smirk, a la Gabby Union in "Deliver Us From Eva" in any of the pics. Nor was I wearing a trench coat or pentagram earrings.

All of a sudden, I remembered... he knows my occupation from MM. What is it about attractive educated Black women that scares off attractive, equally educated Black men? I wouldn't have written this post were it not for reading my Soror L's rant about having been told that she's "educating herself out of a husband" by going after her PhD. (Go 'head Dr. La!!!! This re-post was so very apropos.)

Seriously, I don't want to be the "scary Black-girl attorney." (Is that really what people see when they look at me?) And, I definitely am not attracted to scary (as in, scared of everything) men.

Maybe when Mr. Holland said he was scared of me, he meant he was nervous to be interacting with someone so pretty and smart? ~shrug~

BIA!!! BIAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2008-03-13T13:57:00.005-05:00

I've been e-corresponding with a gentlemen who I met via a friend/coworker's mother. She met him at a conference, liked his "beautiful spirit" and immediately thought to hook me up with him. She (we'll call her the Millionaire Matchmaker, MM for short) is always thinking of me in this way. Very close to Valentine's Day, she met and chatted up the "most gorgeous man" in the Publix down the street from both of our homes. Tall, bald, muscular. He complained to her about not being able to find a nice woman who wanted to settle down. She told him about me, her daughter's "beautiful friend," but seeing as though she didn't know my contact information, she chose instead to tell him my workplace. She made me promise that if I got flowers at work from this gentleman on V-Day that I would make her a part of our wedding. If you're wondering, I didn't get any flowers or any calls at work. But, I must admit, for about a month, every time I went to that Publix, I made sure that I was swexy (sweet-looking, but sexy, in PrettySpeak).

So, when MM told me about her most recent find for me, I was less than enthusiastic. He sounded interesting: a brother who left a promising career in an intriguing field to become a public school teacher because he wanted to give back to the community. However, he lived in another city and MM didn't know him from Adam. Nevertheless, I allowed her to share my e-mail addy with him since I am typically open to meeting like-minded individuals.

He didn't contact me for two weeks (Not that I was counting. I couldn't help but notice the duration of time since MM had her daughter ask me every day had "the man of my dreams" e-mailed yet.)

Then, one day as I was checking my e-mail for the umpteenth time (I have a serious problem with checking my three e-mail accounts every three minutes), I noticed a message from a random. It was from the teacher, who I like to call Mr. Holland (as in "Mr. Holland's Opus).

Shared Space Etiquette, Part II

2008-03-12T12:06:00.003-05:00

Continued...

Pretty knew better than to say something right then because her current thoughts were not so pretty. So, I continued working, all the while thinking about how I could approach this situation. See, FN had had run-ins with other coworkers about the fan, but never with me. The longer I sat thinking about how rude FN was for not even asking whether I minded if she turned the fan down, the more I knew I had to broach the topic with her. (Ironically, I became even hotter. I guess that's why they say people are "simmering.") Being the non-confrontational person I am, I was dreading saying something to her out of the blue. Instead, when FN left The Board (I knew only momentarily because she had left several files at her desk), I turned the fan back up.

When she came back, I could already see her lips pursed at noticing the fan was now again on "whir." Before she could even say anything, I politely asked, "Oh, I'm sorry, did you turn the fan down when you came up here?" I wasn't going to let her get off the hook for that one. I continued, "Because I'm a little warm." As she reached her desk, she hastily collected her files, responding, "Yeah. I'm just going to go to my office. I have a weird neck thing. If any amount of wind blows on it, it starts to hurt." W.T.F. If you say so, FN.

I couldn't hide my smile as she stomped off, clearly annoyed. Or, when she came back to The Board slamming desk drawers and sighing heavily. As I passed her in the hall (she never made it to her desk, apparently waiting for me to complete my task), I said in a syrupy sweet tone, "I'm done up here." She replied (still salty), "Well, I've already got all my things now."

At that, I smiled even brighter and bid her good day. ~halo~

Shared Space Etiquette

2008-03-12T11:20:00.006-05:00

So, about that resolution I made a few weeks ago. I'm going to do better, I promise. ;-) Anyway, on to the post.

A part of my job description requires me to visit an area on a different floor from my office that is located in a large, open room filled with about ten employees, each of them having their own desk. Only one small area (off in the cut, mind you) is sectioned off, with two walls and a ceiling-high bookshelf as borders. This teeny-tiny space has 4 desks in each of its corners, one of them being assigned to me. Let's call this area "The Board." I'd be remiss if I didn't note that the bigger office is home to various and sundry machines, including huge Xerox copiers, a machine that houses files that reminds me of a gigantic electronic Rolodex (I forgot the actual name of the contraption), and a mainframe computer (I SWEAR!), all going at once. These machines are in close proximity to The Board and my desk there. As one might imagine, the combination of the small space, enclosed by a ceiling-high bookshelf blocking any air that even thinks about circulating, and the fact that The Board is mere inches away from several heat-emitting machines......... well, let's just say, it gets hot and stuffy at The Board, even if only one person is in that area. The single saving grace for any warm-blooded human at The Board is the ceiling fan.

I say warm-blooded human because there is a fellow employee who apparently has cold blood running through her veins and doesn't like or need the ceiling fan when she's at The Board. I try to avoid at all costs working with The Fan Nazi (hereinafter known as FN) at The Board.

So, today, I go upstairs to The Board because I had been slacking on that particular job responsibility. As soon as I walked up, I thought, "Great! There are already two bodies up here and the fan is off! But, at least FN is not one of them, and I know that I can turn on the fan once these two leave." And leave, they did. One, almost as soon as I sat, and the other five minutes later. YESSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I got up, pulled the fan twice (it's not THAT hot to have the fan on full-blast hurricane gust), and reclaimed my seat, happy as a clam.

Soon thereafter, the bane of my Board existence, FN, meanders over. Did she just... I know she didn't just... I KNOW SHE DIDN'T JUST TURN THE FAN DOWN!!!!!!!!!! (these are the thoughts that ran through my head as I heard the gentle whir of the fan all but disappear).

To be continued...

Those blogthing quizzes sooooooooo don't work...

2008-02-05T09:28:00.002-05:00

Or so I thought. I took this silly little quiz, with its silly little questions (I know these are so '07, but whatev), "How Are You In Love?" and these are the results:

********************************************************************
You take a while to fall in love with someone. Trust takes time.
In relationships, you tend to be a bit selfish.
You tend to get very attached when you're with someone. You want to see your love all the time.
You love your partner unconditionally and don't try to make them change.
You stay in love for a long time, even if you aren't loved back. When you fall, you fall hard.
********************************************************************

Right on the money.

Fantastical Reality

2008-02-02T15:52:00.000-05:00

I'm not in love with you, he solemnly said
And something inside of me shifted.
The subconscious suddenly
Bubbled to the surface
And my bubble burst at the same time.
He reminded me that it was I who had
Placed him atop that white horse
And paraded him around as my prince.
I perched myself on the pedastal he reserved for a
pretty princess.
And since he is such a gentleman
There, he let me rest.
Through a rose colored lense I saw
His chivalry as a testament to his
Admiration and adulation of me.
But, he was just too kind to point out that the seat
Was not mine nor ever would be.

With new resolve...

2008-01-21T12:00:00.000-05:00

This blog started as an experiment of sorts, without much planned direction or purpose. Considering how much I like to express myself through prose, I feel the need to write more frequently on this small piece of real estate in blogsphere. And, to be totally honest, I lurk so much on other people's blogs, that I should say something at some point on my own. :-) So, with new resolve, I will attempt to write at least weekly. On with the show!

Have you ever felt the need to just....... take a day off from life? Like you need a vacation from each of your responsibilities, including your job, family, friends, even your own thoughts? That is exactly what I'm going through as I type. There is so much on my to-do list right now (or so I feel), that I don't even know where to start.

I'm still struggling with my next career move. Only one thing is clear: I want to move to a different locale, a metropolitan area where there is a plethora of upwardly mobile young black professionals. Since I tested living in MD for two and a half months when I thought I wanted to attend law school there, and failed miserably (yeah, right, that was the "worst winter in years"), DC is out. That leaves the one and only obvious choice: Atlanta. I planned to take the Georgia bar exam anyway. (Sidenote: The best laid plans usually go awry. Four and a half years ago when I began law school, I never thought I would want to practice anywhere besides the Sunshine State. Now, I am uber-annoyed that I cannot just get up and move to a different state without taking an extremely difficult, oftentimes expensive exam. The nature of my profession certainly limits mobility, to my chagrin.) Since the jurisdictions are so geographically close, being licensed to practice in GA will make me marketable to firms here in FL, and therefore, I made plans to take the exam this July.

So, what is the problem, you ask? There is something telling me that ATL is not the place for me. The voice is tiny, almost a whisper, in the back of my mind. I'm still trying to decide if the voice is one of intuition or of fear and/or negativity.

My other choice is a city in central Florida, which was my first choice up until recently, when I honestly assessed what I want out of the city in which I choose to reside. Most of my current "issues" deal with the fact that I could probably very easily get a great job in this city. This makes timing difficult, as I do not want to pursue employment heavily in FL until I have considered my options in Atlanta (which, at this point, are none). Either way, come August, I plan to be starting an awesome new job.

I am also unconvinced that I'd like to live in city in central Florida. Speaking to a Soror one day over g-mail chat (the best thing EVER) about said city (in which she was born and raised), she told me: "The young black professional crowd is little to none. You'll be disappointed. But it seems like that is the case everywhere except Atlanta and DC." Ugh! I have and will continue to pray for guidance from above. It's so very frustrating to know that you can relocate to any location in the country, but to not know where you want to and, more importantly, need to be.

Through the (HUNDRED) years as we struggle....

2008-01-09T00:08:00.000-05:00

Today is 1-9-08!!!!!!! ONE-NINE-OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-EIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!! Skeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, my Sorors!

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

2007-11-19T20:01:00.001-05:00

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

2007-11-19T19:52:00.000-05:00

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

2007-10-16T10:44:00.000-05:00

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?"

2007-06-26T22:25:00.000-05:00

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?

2007-06-14T10:16:00.000-05:00

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...

2007-06-09T23:02:00.000-05:00

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."

2007-05-03T14:03:00.001-05:00

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!

2007-05-03T10:32:00.000-05:00

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."

2007-05-03T01:32:00.001-05:00

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...

2007-04-04T23:50:00.000-05:00

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?

2007-03-08T23:58:00.000-05:00

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!

2007-02-24T09:45:00.000-05:00

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...

2007-02-14T18:36:00.000-05:00

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!!!!!!

2007-02-11T03:41:00.000-05:00

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...

"I didn't go to church today, but I seriously considered it. I think that should count for something."

2006-12-05T22:19:00.000-05:00

Someone made this statement to me, and it got me to thinking... must one go to church to be religious? This same question was posed to Kirk Franklin (GC, are you wit' me?!) one morning on the radio. He sagely responded with a question of his own, namely: Do you have to wear a ring to be married? Of course the answer to Franklin's query is no, one does not have to wear a wedding ring to be married. But, he clearly made the point that there are things one does, albeit through formalistic rituals, to signify that they are married, such as wearing a gold band on their left ring finger. Likewise, Christians go to church, among other reasons, to indicate that they are in fact Christians.

I admit that I have been slacking on going to church for the past month or so. Between traveling and having weekend guests, it has been difficult for me to get my praise on. But, I've always felt that I can speak to God on my own, and therefore, did not really need to go to church to feed my spirituality. As far as I was concerned, going to church was optional. And, although I choose to attend because I am of the mind that listening to a pastor preach the word provides me with a deeper understanding of my God and my religion, and because I always feel better after I leave the sanctuary, my reasoning has shifted, and I owe it all to Kirk! I often hear that others should KNOW that saved people are just that; that saved people should be recognized as such both in their words and their actions. Well, a prerequisite for wearing your Christianity on your sleeve is going to church. Thank you, Brother Kirk. I stand corrected.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

2006-12-05T21:30:00.000-05:00

If people come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime... how can you tell when their time is up? I think back on relationships I have had with various people, both male and female. Sometimes, it was quite obvious that the relationships would not last, such as those that were formed at a place of temporary employment or the fling that only lasted for the fall. The tricky situations, though, came when I wasn't sure if certain bonds should have been broken.

In my opinion, romantic relationships are very much like familial relationships and even friendships. There has to be trust, mutual respect, compassion and hopefully, a lot of love involved, in order for any of these to work. When one's feelings change or one realizes that a particular relationship is not in one's best interest, then presumably, it is time to move on...whether the "reason" has come and gone or the last game of the "season" has been played.

Right now, I can think of a person who I was very close to for a total of 3 months. Over the course of that summer, we were inseparable and actually shared a lot about ourselves with each other. Ultimately, this person and I drifted apart, and I must admit that it was by my own design. I knew that our friendship was fleeting and we have not remained friends. Albeit, there is no animosity between the two of us, but when that summer ended, things were never the same. Most telling, our "breakup" did not make me sad or feel as though I were losing someone. In essence, I knew that she no longer needed to be a part of my life because the reason for her presence had been fulfilled.

On the other hand, I can think of numerous occasions where it has been difficult to let go of someone even if their explusion from my space were past due. In those instances, as I sat ignoring all signs of the changing tides, said relationships slowly but surely deteriorated. Even now, there is a man who continues to hover in my atmosphere (sometimes with my invitation), although I am well aware that summer has long ago turned to fall. But, I can't imagine having him be a part of me only in memories...

Don't get me wrong. I have lifetime friends, too! In fact, I probably have more than the average person, and I am grateful for them all. So, today, I am praying for discernment and courage... discernment to tell the difference and courage to do what the universe demands of me when I know.

Quarter-life Crisis... is there such a thing?!

2006-11-08T11:27:00.000-05:00

I copied this from someone's facebook note, but I think it needs broader publication...

ON BEING TWENTY - SOMETHING
They call it the "Quarter-life Crisis." It is when you stop going along with the crowd and start realizing that there are many things about yourself that you didn't know and may not like. You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year or two, but then get scared because you barely know where you are now.

You start realizing that people are selfish and that, maybe, those friends that you thought you were so close to aren't exactly the greatest people you have ever met, and the people you have lost touch with are some of the most important ones. What you don't recognize is that they are realizing that too, and aren't really cold, catty, mean or insincere, but that they are as confused as you.

You look at your job... and it is not even close to what you thought you would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you.

Your opinions have gotten stronger. You see what others are doing and find yourself judging more than usual because suddenly you realize that you have certain boundaries in your life and are constantly adding things to your list of what is acceptable and what isn't.

One minute, you are insecure and then the next, secure. You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life. You feel alone and scared and confused. Suddenly, change is the enemy and you try and cling on to the past with dear life, but soon realize that the past is drifting further and further away, and there is nothing to do but stay where you are or move forward.

You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do such damage to you. Or you lie in bed and wonder why you can't meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better. Or maybe you love someone but love someone else too and cannot figure out why you are doing this because you know that you aren't a bad person.

One night stands and random hook ups start to look cheap. Getting wasted and acting like an idiot starts to look pathetic.

You go through the same emotions and questions over and over, and talk with your friends about the same topics because you cannot seem to make a decision. You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for yourself...and while winning the race would be great, right now you'd just like to be a contender!

What you may not realize is that every twenty-something relates to this. We are in our best of times and our worst of times, trying as hard as we can to figure this whole thing out.

Instant Inspiration

2006-11-07T19:23:00.000-05:00

I am not a poet by any means. In fact, the following is more "spoken word" than poetry. In any event, I authored what I like to call "Instant Inspiration" in my favorite coffee shop out of the blue. And like Erykah, "I'm sensitive about my s***t!" Enjoy!

I am consumed with thoughts of he
Who does not return my gaze.
His face looks familiar and I see
The striking resemblance is not physical
But all a part of the mind.
Searching for similarities, I find none,
But my own.
So much like me that I can’t fathom how
We’d ever make it.
Too stubborn to move, too
Spoiled to compromise, too
Cynical to love.
Attraction afire and we both know, but
What looks like glitter ain’t always gold, and besides
I ALWAYS get the last word and the last say.
SAY, how could he not requite my attention?
PAY ATTENTION!
OR ELSE!
Or else, what? he chuckles…
For he knows my wrath when met
With nonchalance is just
An idle threat.
You will SWEAT me, he thinks.
I think the same.
Thus, we miss a good thang and it’s no one’s fault but
Our own…

And so it begins....

2006-10-30T23:06:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago, let's just say six, I got an e-mail from an acquaintance (we'll call him Potential Suitor for now) that I met while matriculating at university. The message basically said that PS would be in town in the next week and that it would be his diststinct pleasure to escort me on a tour of the city. I thought this idea a fabulous one! I love good conversation and I knew that an outing with PS would provide a pleasant reprieve from my usual social scene. We spent nearly a week speaking to each other's voice mails before we made plans, and I spent the entire seven days fretting about something I like to call the "love polygon." If you have ever been in a love triangle (a dreadful assignment that usually ends in disaster), you can probably imagine how terrible a love polygon might be! My little situation involves more than 3 people. In fact, it involves a number more and expands each day. (For purposes of clarification, I am not describing any untoward activity. A lady such as myself would never participate in such behavior.)

Imagine, you meet a great guy in the supermarket, you exchange numbers and make plans to have a date. You are exuberantly discussing with your best girlfriend the impending meeting when she says: "What's his name, again?" "John Doe?" "They call him JD, and he attended University X? He's in fraternity A?" You close your eyes, brace yourself, and reluctantly, you answer her questions in the affirmative. You dread the unspoken words that you can already hear. She knows something about him; namely, her mock trial partner is his ex and they were practically engaged and the poor tart happens to still be in love with him. Although the ensemble you had put together for the evening is stunning, you put that dress back in the closet and take off the heels in which you had been prancing around because you know that you cannot under any circumstances go out with JD. Or can you?

I have been privy to similar scenarios at least 5 times in the past two months. Mind you, I have been a near side to quite a few love polygons myself. So, what does one do in such a situation? My mommy's well-heeded advice was to avoid spending too much time or attention on someone who is part of "such a mess." I personally dislike being placed in awkward situations, and therefore, I will likely go to great lengths to avoid this altogether in the future. However, I would be a silly girl to miss out on a romantic prospect while trying to politely avoid stepping on another girl's toes with my Christian Louboutins. Especially someone to whom I have no real ties. Believe me, I am not advocating that you date your sister's love interest or the father of your best friend's daughter. However, if the relationship between you and the other female arc in that many-angled shape is superficial... put on that demure-with-just-a-hint-of-sexy dress and your peep-toe heels, dab a bit of Vera Wang at your nape and have a fabulous time with the intersecting gentleman!

Being called the N-word to your face?

2006-10-17T08:10:00.001-05:00

I detest alarm clocks. I especially detest the loud, annoying sounds that alarm clocks make when they awaken me from a night of beauty rest. Therefore, I set my alarm to play the radio instead of making the beeping sound. And as I am preparing for the day, I leave the radio on, specifically on a station that has a nationally syndicated morning show that provides me with comic relief, celebrity gossip, crazy callers, news and most importantly (hey, at least I'm honest), music to which I can dance around the house naked!

On one particularly good morning, the guest on said show was Dave Chappelle. He was asked about his prolific use of the n-word on his infamouns Comedy Central television show and how he has now come to hate the use of the term. He gave the typical, "it's our word, we can use it, others can't" spiel, with which I don't necessarily disagree (I am still coming to terms with this mentality). However, he made an additional statement which caused me to take pause. According to the brilliant, if not a little nutty Chappelle, being called a "minority" in a country that was founded on the principle that the majority wins is like being called the n-word TO YOUR FACE!! Oh, Dear!!

I thought about this statement for a spell, and I came to the conclusion that being called a minority is akin to being given a backhanded compliment. And no one likes to be complimented in that manner. For example, what if that girl who just cannot come to terms with your celestial beauty and grace saunters up and says, "Girl, those shoes you are wearing were just fabulous last year?" At first glance, the comment appears to be complimentary. But, my mommy did not raise a fool; the way in which the sentence was phrased suggests that the Manolo Timbs in which you are still flitting around are no longer fashionable. Now, a true southern belle would be gracious enough to smile warmly and reply, "thank you, your shoes are cute, too." But, I digress...

Being called a "minority" is tantamount to being pegged a "loser" in America since every redblooded flag-carrying Westerner knows that the majority rules. Being designated a "minority" is like being told you will lose EVERY TIME because your race will NEVER outnumber the "majority." But, what happens when that's no longer the case?

It has been estimated that in the future, supposed "minorities" will outnumber our Caucasian counterparts. And since all we "minorities" do is procreate and leach off our noble government, this probably rings true for most. I do not have the slightest fear that rich white men will miraculously turn loose their stronghold on this country anytime soon, and therefore, quite frankly, we will someday live in apartheid conditions. If I were a less honorable woman, I would bet that at that point in time no one will be calling Mr. and Mrs. Smith "minorities." And for the record, I'm not talking about Will and Jada.

Overture

2006-10-16T13:32:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I started this blog out of curiosity. I don't know how it may evolve, but I'm thinking I'll have some fun and maybe learn a little bit more about myself along the way.