How do you know when someone of another race is testing you to see how far they can go before you check them and when they're just aloof and don't know any better?
My co-worker, a white girl from Long Island, and I were talking a couple of weeks ago about some girly thing or another and hair ended up being the topic of discussion. Now, I'm a natural girl and let me tell you, life for me ain't been no crystal stair when it comes to this hair. So for a couple of weeks, I was rocking my Rita Marley - a lil mesh cap - over my hair with a little afro puff coming out on the side. I was telling her that I don't have long hair but it is thick so I have to be in the right mindframe to do it; for her part, she told me that she hates blowing out her hair. But to the end of that she added, "...but, and I hope you don't get mad, it wouldn't be as hard as dealing with you hair." I cocked my head to the side but let it go because maybe she just said that based on me talking about how thick my hair was. Right?
Fast forward to yesterday.
We were talking about a wedding I'm going to soon that's apparently on her side of town when the topic switched over to the best and worst weddings/receptions we've been to. I shared with her the ugly details surrounding a particular wedding I went to and she told me the worst one she's been to. At the end of her story she goes, "But I mean, and no offense, the one you talked about just sounded ghetto. The one I went to was cheap but what you're talking about is just..."
Screeeeeeeech. Ghetto?
Being the professional I am, I cocked my head and said, "Yeaaaahhhhh...no. Ghetto isn't the word I would use. Why not cheap like you said about the wedding you attended? The circumstances were worse but all a result of the bride and groom being cheap. So ghetto...no so much." She immediately goes, "No no, I don't mean like that but I mean, you get where I'm coming from. Cheap is the better word though, you're right." She moved the conversation along and then went out for lunch.
Is she testing me? Cruisin' for a bruisin? Or is she a white girl from Long Island whose only ever really been surrounded by white people from Long Island and doesn't know any better?
Either way, I think it's time to put her on ice for a bit because no matter the reason, she's gotten beside herself.
What say you?
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Lesson Learned.
Ever think there's a "one who got away?" I don't know if the guy I'm about to discuss fits that title but...well, you be the judge.
It was something like Spring 2000 and me and my line sisters took a trip to New Oreleans for some party reason or another. We'd run into a college friend and his friends which included a quite tall cutie. Some random local felt an urge to keep bothering me and so in an attempt to get him to stop, cutie - we'll call him "B" - pretended to be my man. After my harasser walked away, B and I spoke for the rest of the night about music and traded stories about our respective cities. When the night was over, we hugged and went back with our respective crews without exchanging information.
Months later back on campus, my friend mentioned to me that his cousin had asked how I was doing and to "tell her I said what's up." (In my mind, he said it in his thick Nawlins accent that made me swoon a little the first time we'd met). We exchanged a couple of messages between our friend before he got tired of it and said, "Aight, that's it: here's his number and you give me yours so I can give it to him. Ya'll talk to each other." And so it began.
The conversations flowed freely and it was one of the first times I ever felt like j could be open with a guy (I was a fairly late bloomer when it came to guys). We talked about everything, including how long it would be before we'd see each other again since he was in Nawlins and I was in Mississippi. In my mind all I kept thinking was, "This must be what it is like to have a soulmate." And then I came back home to Brooklyn.
B wasn't my man and I don't think you could classify what we were doing as dating but it was something. So when I started hearing more and more about the "homegirl" he hung with all of a sudden, I raised an eyebrow. When my phone calls were often unreturned because he'd spent the night at her house, I started getting upset. Being the passive aggressive person I was at the time, I wrote him a letter expressing my displeasure but added that I didn't want to talk about it on the phone, just "know I don't like it." Yeah, I did that. He called me to tell me he'd received the letter but following my instruction, we didn't talk about the letter.
It was the last time we spoke.
In hindsight, it may have been fault. I was too scared to talk about it and he may have been annoyed because of it. Even though I believed B was more than friends with his homegirl, my inability to communicate messed it all up. Lesson learned.
I saw him three years later and he'd gained like 40 pounds and was super dusty looking. In my mind, his weight gain was some kind of karma for kind of keeping some things from me. Wrong? Absolutely, but I was 22 and dumb. Don't judge me. Was he one of my soulmates or just a way for me to learn a lesson (learn to communicate or lose out)?
It was something like Spring 2000 and me and my line sisters took a trip to New Oreleans for some party reason or another. We'd run into a college friend and his friends which included a quite tall cutie. Some random local felt an urge to keep bothering me and so in an attempt to get him to stop, cutie - we'll call him "B" - pretended to be my man. After my harasser walked away, B and I spoke for the rest of the night about music and traded stories about our respective cities. When the night was over, we hugged and went back with our respective crews without exchanging information.
Months later back on campus, my friend mentioned to me that his cousin had asked how I was doing and to "tell her I said what's up." (In my mind, he said it in his thick Nawlins accent that made me swoon a little the first time we'd met). We exchanged a couple of messages between our friend before he got tired of it and said, "Aight, that's it: here's his number and you give me yours so I can give it to him. Ya'll talk to each other." And so it began.
The conversations flowed freely and it was one of the first times I ever felt like j could be open with a guy (I was a fairly late bloomer when it came to guys). We talked about everything, including how long it would be before we'd see each other again since he was in Nawlins and I was in Mississippi. In my mind all I kept thinking was, "This must be what it is like to have a soulmate." And then I came back home to Brooklyn.
B wasn't my man and I don't think you could classify what we were doing as dating but it was something. So when I started hearing more and more about the "homegirl" he hung with all of a sudden, I raised an eyebrow. When my phone calls were often unreturned because he'd spent the night at her house, I started getting upset. Being the passive aggressive person I was at the time, I wrote him a letter expressing my displeasure but added that I didn't want to talk about it on the phone, just "know I don't like it." Yeah, I did that. He called me to tell me he'd received the letter but following my instruction, we didn't talk about the letter.
It was the last time we spoke.
In hindsight, it may have been fault. I was too scared to talk about it and he may have been annoyed because of it. Even though I believed B was more than friends with his homegirl, my inability to communicate messed it all up. Lesson learned.
I saw him three years later and he'd gained like 40 pounds and was super dusty looking. In my mind, his weight gain was some kind of karma for kind of keeping some things from me. Wrong? Absolutely, but I was 22 and dumb. Don't judge me. Was he one of my soulmates or just a way for me to learn a lesson (learn to communicate or lose out)?
Friday, August 3, 2012
Table For One
I'm officially out of the dating game.
There, I said it.
Only, I've not agreed to be any man's girlfriend. See, I'm out of the game because I haven't been out on a date in...well, a long time. It is painstakingly embarrassing to admit that but it is certainly true. For the life of me, I can't really figure out why I haven't been dating. I can only think of one reason: I don't go out that much.
But women always talk about meeting men on the train, in grocery stores or just walking down the block. To that I ask: what train, what stores and what blocks? On my main trains, there are only women, children and mentally disturbed folks. No, that's not an exaggeration but really just the way it is. At the grocery store, there are only women and families. And walking down the block? Well, I do get a few shouts here and there from the homeboys who never have anywhere to go or anything to do with themselves. But these women are talking about "quality" men, or what appear to be quality men upon first convo, and so no, I don't encounter those either.
There was a time - long ago - when ya girl (that's me in case you're not up on 90s lingo) was always meeting men. Some good, some not so much. But the point is that I could meet a guy at least once a month even if no information was ultimately exchanged. Ahh, the good ol' days.
Wondertwin (one of my closest friends) said she can't understand why I'm not dating all the time seeing as though I'm a decent looking woman with a great personality (you can call this a pat on the back if you'd like but I really do think I'm kind of dope, lol). No, I'm not the frilly dress girly-girl (I rock jeans and sneakers) but I do alright for myself. The only reason I can come up with is that I don't go out as often as I used to. I assume if I got back "out on the scene," there's a chance I'd meet more men. You certainly can't meet anyone sitting in the house; if that were the case, I'd truly be "off the market" with a ring and everything!
I've got to start from scratch and get back out there. I've never been a good flirt with someone I might actually be interested in so maybe that's something I can add into the new routine I'm working up in my head. Like, something has got to give because sometimes the silence can be so loud.
The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results and I really can't afford to go crazy!
There, I said it.
Only, I've not agreed to be any man's girlfriend. See, I'm out of the game because I haven't been out on a date in...well, a long time. It is painstakingly embarrassing to admit that but it is certainly true. For the life of me, I can't really figure out why I haven't been dating. I can only think of one reason: I don't go out that much.
But women always talk about meeting men on the train, in grocery stores or just walking down the block. To that I ask: what train, what stores and what blocks? On my main trains, there are only women, children and mentally disturbed folks. No, that's not an exaggeration but really just the way it is. At the grocery store, there are only women and families. And walking down the block? Well, I do get a few shouts here and there from the homeboys who never have anywhere to go or anything to do with themselves. But these women are talking about "quality" men, or what appear to be quality men upon first convo, and so no, I don't encounter those either.
There was a time - long ago - when ya girl (that's me in case you're not up on 90s lingo) was always meeting men. Some good, some not so much. But the point is that I could meet a guy at least once a month even if no information was ultimately exchanged. Ahh, the good ol' days.
Wondertwin (one of my closest friends) said she can't understand why I'm not dating all the time seeing as though I'm a decent looking woman with a great personality (you can call this a pat on the back if you'd like but I really do think I'm kind of dope, lol). No, I'm not the frilly dress girly-girl (I rock jeans and sneakers) but I do alright for myself. The only reason I can come up with is that I don't go out as often as I used to. I assume if I got back "out on the scene," there's a chance I'd meet more men. You certainly can't meet anyone sitting in the house; if that were the case, I'd truly be "off the market" with a ring and everything!
I've got to start from scratch and get back out there. I've never been a good flirt with someone I might actually be interested in so maybe that's something I can add into the new routine I'm working up in my head. Like, something has got to give because sometimes the silence can be so loud.
The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results and I really can't afford to go crazy!
Searching For Me
"I'm just trying to do it all tonight, I got plans
I got a certain lust for life, As it stands
Everything is going as right...as it can..." -Drake
My life ain't what it used to be. In the past year and a half, it has taken a bit of a nosedive and I'm desperately trying to swim my way back to the top.
I quickly mentioned in the last post that my job has erred on the stressful side over the last year. Lots of shuffling resulted me in doing the same job for different people and seeing how quickly things can change. At the previous company, I had lots of support and help. When things changed, I had none of that. After months of sleepless, sobbing nights, it seems I've figured out a way to cope with things since they're likely to stay the same so I can continue to get the job done.
Unfortunately whatever my definition of "coping" is, it has resulted in me losing that piece of me that was a social butterfly. No longer do I really want to go out after work; the best thing for me to do is just go home and decompress. Going out on the weekends? A thing of the past. I need those two days to mentally heal from the previous five days' beatdown. I don't even talk to most of my friends like I used to. Wait, that's not completely my fault so I won't take the blame for all of it. But for my part, everything is, "I'm just tired" or "I just want to chill." I've always appreciated being home and enjoying my own space but this? I'm on another level of "me time."
Something is wrong. I've got to fix it but I don't know how. I couldn't even tell you where to go in the city to have a good time. I'm not even talking about places to meet men because let me tell you, that's another post entirely. I'm just talking about hanging out with your friends and just being able to chat with different folks. Oh but wait, some of my friends and I seem to barely know each other now. It's like I'm a freshman away at college learning to find my own way again. This issue - and trust me, that's what it is - creeps in my mind almost daily.
I'm lost. And as I finish packing my bag for my first vacation in a year (it's actually only a long weekend but I'll take it), I wonder if this trip will also serve as the start of the yellow brick road on the way back to the old me.
Gotta find my way back.
I got a certain lust for life, As it stands
Everything is going as right...as it can..." -Drake
My life ain't what it used to be. In the past year and a half, it has taken a bit of a nosedive and I'm desperately trying to swim my way back to the top.
I quickly mentioned in the last post that my job has erred on the stressful side over the last year. Lots of shuffling resulted me in doing the same job for different people and seeing how quickly things can change. At the previous company, I had lots of support and help. When things changed, I had none of that. After months of sleepless, sobbing nights, it seems I've figured out a way to cope with things since they're likely to stay the same so I can continue to get the job done.
Unfortunately whatever my definition of "coping" is, it has resulted in me losing that piece of me that was a social butterfly. No longer do I really want to go out after work; the best thing for me to do is just go home and decompress. Going out on the weekends? A thing of the past. I need those two days to mentally heal from the previous five days' beatdown. I don't even talk to most of my friends like I used to. Wait, that's not completely my fault so I won't take the blame for all of it. But for my part, everything is, "I'm just tired" or "I just want to chill." I've always appreciated being home and enjoying my own space but this? I'm on another level of "me time."
Something is wrong. I've got to fix it but I don't know how. I couldn't even tell you where to go in the city to have a good time. I'm not even talking about places to meet men because let me tell you, that's another post entirely. I'm just talking about hanging out with your friends and just being able to chat with different folks. Oh but wait, some of my friends and I seem to barely know each other now. It's like I'm a freshman away at college learning to find my own way again. This issue - and trust me, that's what it is - creeps in my mind almost daily.
I'm lost. And as I finish packing my bag for my first vacation in a year (it's actually only a long weekend but I'll take it), I wonder if this trip will also serve as the start of the yellow brick road on the way back to the old me.
Gotta find my way back.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
PUSH.
Here's the thing: It's not that I hate blogging. I actually find it to be fun, helpful and to an extent, therapeutic. One thing about me is that there's rarely a moment when I don't have something to say. The problem is that I don't always have something to say that belongs in this space. So I'll come back with a few things to say, say them and then be gone 'til I have something else to write about. For someone who claims to want to write a book one day (been claiming that for eight years), you'd think I could at least get like three blog posts out a week, right? It's not that easy for me and I've been fighting myself about it.
But just a few hours ago on Twitter, one of my favorite writers, Aliya S. King, posed a challenge to all her followers who are writers or who would like to write: 30 posts in 30 days. My first thought? "SHIT." My very next thought? "I'm doing it." The only way to be a writer is to write (and read but hell, you can't be a writer without having written) and I'm not doing it as regularly as I should. My freelance gig definitely entails writing but I'm limited in that capacity so the other option, besides other freelance gigs, is to use this space. I mean, that's the reason I started it a few years ago anyway; even if no one ever read what I wrote, I was going to keep on doing it. I'm doing myself a huge disservice by not sticking to my old rules.
I'm here now though, primarily in thanks to Aliya and her husband (he initiated the challenge). This is going to be hard for me because outside of my admitted laziness, I'm always tired from my day job and its constant stresses. But if moms with f/t jobs can do it, if bloggers who make big money from it can do it...surely I can.
*cue Jill Scott* Goddddd, please hear my call, I'm afraaaaiddddd...
Number One.
But just a few hours ago on Twitter, one of my favorite writers, Aliya S. King, posed a challenge to all her followers who are writers or who would like to write: 30 posts in 30 days. My first thought? "SHIT." My very next thought? "I'm doing it." The only way to be a writer is to write (and read but hell, you can't be a writer without having written) and I'm not doing it as regularly as I should. My freelance gig definitely entails writing but I'm limited in that capacity so the other option, besides other freelance gigs, is to use this space. I mean, that's the reason I started it a few years ago anyway; even if no one ever read what I wrote, I was going to keep on doing it. I'm doing myself a huge disservice by not sticking to my old rules.
I'm here now though, primarily in thanks to Aliya and her husband (he initiated the challenge). This is going to be hard for me because outside of my admitted laziness, I'm always tired from my day job and its constant stresses. But if moms with f/t jobs can do it, if bloggers who make big money from it can do it...surely I can.
*cue Jill Scott* Goddddd, please hear my call, I'm afraaaaiddddd...
Number One.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Self-Reflection: The Peculiar Friendship
"I kept up a peculiar friendship with him because I couldn't imagine keeping up
my life without him. I struggled to master myself and my emotions. I wasn't always successful." -Frank Ocean (from his "coming out" - or whatever you want to call it - letter)
When I read Frank's "coming out" note on his Tumblr last week, I understood that I was reading a huge revelation. But bigger than that, the story that he was telling was way more moving and it didn't matter what gender he was talking about about. But the above line has stuck with me since I read it last week. Hell, I've memorized it. It also came at the most interesting time.
The same week I had a chance to spend some time with my "first." I've mentioned him in the past so no need to go into much detail (though this sums it up quite nicely). We're still very cool and keep in semi-frequent contact but don't get to see each other often. We spoke the day before the 4th and we made plans to see each other and catch up. The whole "catching up" thing didn't work out exactly as planned but we did get to hang out for a couple of minutes and it gave me a chance to get in his business (yeah, we're still that cool).
But like many who see an old flame or whatever he/she may be to you, I did a little reflection as I got home. It wasn't the "I wonder what could have happened if" kind of reflection; it was actually a self-reflection. I realized when I looked in his eyes, I could literally see the 18 year old freshman who knew nothing about boys. The freshman who knew nothing about "game." I laughed to myself when I recalled how I asked, "Now what," because I knew he wasn't my boyfriend but I didn't know what it meant to have sex with someone who was just a friend. I shook my head at how crystal clear things were after that first time when I realized, "Shit, I'm not the only one, huh?"
As I recall, I kept up a facade. I'd expressed my little hurt but for the sake of me keeping him around, primarily because I didn't know how to say " I can't and won't deal with this," I held on to the friendship. By a thread. For years. We'd finally gotten to what I thought was a good place until one straw broke the camel's back and I saw the "friendship" for what it was. I'd had enough and told him so. That, too, last for a few years until he approached me on the humble and we grew the friendship again. Today, I think we're okay but we only are because I don't feel the need to keep up that friendship with him if it isn't working for me (I can't speak for him).
I don't run up behind him checking on him and seeing what he's up to because I can imagine my life without him. I've had a life without him in it. So I know Frank's story. I lived it to an extent. I actually went through parts of it again with someone else. It's got to be one of the worst feelings to deal with in terms of relationships but when you get through it? Now that's some shit to sing about.
When I read Frank's "coming out" note on his Tumblr last week, I understood that I was reading a huge revelation. But bigger than that, the story that he was telling was way more moving and it didn't matter what gender he was talking about about. But the above line has stuck with me since I read it last week. Hell, I've memorized it. It also came at the most interesting time.
The same week I had a chance to spend some time with my "first." I've mentioned him in the past so no need to go into much detail (though this sums it up quite nicely). We're still very cool and keep in semi-frequent contact but don't get to see each other often. We spoke the day before the 4th and we made plans to see each other and catch up. The whole "catching up" thing didn't work out exactly as planned but we did get to hang out for a couple of minutes and it gave me a chance to get in his business (yeah, we're still that cool).
But like many who see an old flame or whatever he/she may be to you, I did a little reflection as I got home. It wasn't the "I wonder what could have happened if" kind of reflection; it was actually a self-reflection. I realized when I looked in his eyes, I could literally see the 18 year old freshman who knew nothing about boys. The freshman who knew nothing about "game." I laughed to myself when I recalled how I asked, "Now what," because I knew he wasn't my boyfriend but I didn't know what it meant to have sex with someone who was just a friend. I shook my head at how crystal clear things were after that first time when I realized, "Shit, I'm not the only one, huh?"
As I recall, I kept up a facade. I'd expressed my little hurt but for the sake of me keeping him around, primarily because I didn't know how to say " I can't and won't deal with this," I held on to the friendship. By a thread. For years. We'd finally gotten to what I thought was a good place until one straw broke the camel's back and I saw the "friendship" for what it was. I'd had enough and told him so. That, too, last for a few years until he approached me on the humble and we grew the friendship again. Today, I think we're okay but we only are because I don't feel the need to keep up that friendship with him if it isn't working for me (I can't speak for him).
I don't run up behind him checking on him and seeing what he's up to because I can imagine my life without him. I've had a life without him in it. So I know Frank's story. I lived it to an extent. I actually went through parts of it again with someone else. It's got to be one of the worst feelings to deal with in terms of relationships but when you get through it? Now that's some shit to sing about.
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Nas' "Bye Baby": Freedom of Expression Or Lame Sales Attempt?
A couple of days ago, I saw on the blogs that Nas had a new song called "Bye Baby." I knew before pressing play the song would be about his ex-wife, Kelis. The best I could hope for was that he would just be expressing his feelings about where their marriage went wrong and how he could have done some things better (because, I mean, he can't speak for her) to maybe make the marriage work. But, I was wrong.
Sure, he starts out saying that his wedding day was so awesome and that they tried counseling but that couldn't force him to stay. Great. But in that same first verse he calls out Kelis' issues, according to him, by saying, "Reason you don't trust men, that's your daddy fault/he in the grave, let it go/he no longer livin/said you caught him cheatin' on mom with other women/ fuck that gotta do with us..." He continues by saying he should have seen the demons when he saw her screaming "Hate You so Much," which was her first single. The rest of the song goes on to describe the relationship - things that were publicized and some thing that weren't - with the third verse talking about how her lawyers told her what she'd be getting in the divorce proceedings as well as him defending the same relationship in front of people who spoke ill of them being together. By the very end he was saying he'd get married again when he meets the "truest type."
I'm sorry, Nasir...what?! I'm trying to understand where it's cool to put your ex-wife and mother of your child on blast like this just because you feel the need to get some things off your chest. Sure, we've all heard a song or read a book where a person is expressing themselves about a past relationship and it's very compelling. But there's a way to do everything and this seems wrong. In an attempt to further his sales when the Life Is Good album comes out, he not only used the woman's wedding dress (he says she left it behind when she left him) to be controversial but he put things out about her that I don't recall knowing. This is not cool.
Yes, there's the idea that it's freedom of speech and the forum that he has can be used in any way he sees fit. I'm well aware of that as I'm using this space to voice my displeasure. But when the situation is more involved than her having just been a girlfriend, there's a moment where you would think that common sense takes over and you either approach it at a different, more neutral angle or...you don't say anything at all. Kelis has yet to say anything negative about him; just two weeks ago she address the 'wedding dress' album cover by saying, "My feelings about it are not really relevant, but you know at the end of the day Nas is an artist...I feel like especially for someone in hip-hop to kind of be genuine and honest, whatever the honesty is about, I think it’s awesome." Is she perfect? Of course not. Does she share the blame for the demise of marriage? I'm sure she played a part. But she seems to know that they have a kid together and to say anything obviously or subliminally negative about Nas serves no point. Stakes are high once you've been married and had kids with a person.
Nas, you are back to looking as fine as you were in '94 but does that mean you have to still act like the kid you were then? Don't let this rap shit get have you making a fool of yourself.
Sure, he starts out saying that his wedding day was so awesome and that they tried counseling but that couldn't force him to stay. Great. But in that same first verse he calls out Kelis' issues, according to him, by saying, "Reason you don't trust men, that's your daddy fault/he in the grave, let it go/he no longer livin/said you caught him cheatin' on mom with other women/ fuck that gotta do with us..." He continues by saying he should have seen the demons when he saw her screaming "Hate You so Much," which was her first single. The rest of the song goes on to describe the relationship - things that were publicized and some thing that weren't - with the third verse talking about how her lawyers told her what she'd be getting in the divorce proceedings as well as him defending the same relationship in front of people who spoke ill of them being together. By the very end he was saying he'd get married again when he meets the "truest type."
I'm sorry, Nasir...what?! I'm trying to understand where it's cool to put your ex-wife and mother of your child on blast like this just because you feel the need to get some things off your chest. Sure, we've all heard a song or read a book where a person is expressing themselves about a past relationship and it's very compelling. But there's a way to do everything and this seems wrong. In an attempt to further his sales when the Life Is Good album comes out, he not only used the woman's wedding dress (he says she left it behind when she left him) to be controversial but he put things out about her that I don't recall knowing. This is not cool.
Yes, there's the idea that it's freedom of speech and the forum that he has can be used in any way he sees fit. I'm well aware of that as I'm using this space to voice my displeasure. But when the situation is more involved than her having just been a girlfriend, there's a moment where you would think that common sense takes over and you either approach it at a different, more neutral angle or...you don't say anything at all. Kelis has yet to say anything negative about him; just two weeks ago she address the 'wedding dress' album cover by saying, "My feelings about it are not really relevant, but you know at the end of the day Nas is an artist...I feel like especially for someone in hip-hop to kind of be genuine and honest, whatever the honesty is about, I think it’s awesome." Is she perfect? Of course not. Does she share the blame for the demise of marriage? I'm sure she played a part. But she seems to know that they have a kid together and to say anything obviously or subliminally negative about Nas serves no point. Stakes are high once you've been married and had kids with a person.
Nas, you are back to looking as fine as you were in '94 but does that mean you have to still act like the kid you were then? Don't let this rap shit get have you making a fool of yourself.
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