Gee, thanks Monica

 Damnit, I got tagged.

What main lesson have you learned in the month of February?
That love truly is a beautiful gift and that I’d be a fool to walk away from it.

What bad habit do you want to rid yourself of this month?
I really would like to refrain from the use of unsavory words. I have a potty mouth and its really not cute at all.

What are your favorite muses?
My daughter. I am contemplating a major career change and I expressed my fears about it. She sat me down and asked what I was afraid of, and this twelve year old heffa told ME that I’ll never know if I can do it until I try and that if I stay scared, I might miss the chance to live out my dream. When she was three and saw me upset about something, she sat on my lap looked me dead in the eye and said “Mommy, stop crying. It doesn’t get any better than this, don’t be sad”. She is my muse and my inspiration.

Name one thing UNIQUELY DIFFERENT that you recently discovered about yourself?
That I apparantly have a unique sense of humor that others enjoy. Too much. Sometimes at my own expense…I hate them.

What is your definition of passion vs intimacy?
Passion is driven by lust. Intimacy is grounded in love. It is possible to have great passion without a sense of intimacy. I have learned that my greatest passion is that shared with the one I love.

What are you vibing too?
John Mayer

What are your favorite gadgets?
My blackberry.

What would be a perfect date with the person you’re thinking of right now…
We could turn a trip to the supermarket to buy fixins for a great dinner cooked together into a perfect date so there is no telling.

Last book read?
The Teahouse Fire by Ellis Avery

What would you re-name it based upon your perception of the storyline?
It would take a more than a Teahouse fire to make this worth reading.

How many times a day do you look at your blog or the blogs of others?
That depends on how often they update their pages. I visit all of them at least once daily.

Who’s your favorite blogger or spot you find lurking around most often?
I’ll never tell.

If you were to live as the opposite sex for the day what name would you give yourself?
Confused.

Describe yourself in 3 adjectives?
Cute, Quirky, Real.

One goal you set for yourself for the month of March?
To lose 5 more lbs.
 

i got your man

“Get your shit together
you’re makin a fool of yourself,
it don’t matter if he spends the night
his home is somewhere else
Ain’t you tired of being on the side line,
tired of getting yours after i gets mine
baby second place don’t get a prize
when you gone realize you wasting your time …
little sideline ho “

Women, as a whole, need to get it together. Seriously. When I meet guys and they realize how few women I deal with, they are actually surprised. They see me as an outgoing person and feel that I’d be a good friend to anyone. I try to school them, and let them know that dealing with women requires more energy and patience than dealing with men…but they don’t hear me tho. I think, like most men, my male friends think that all women, ESPECIALLY black women, are bonded by the common belief that most men ain’t shit. Despite any problems that I may have had, may have caused, may have suffered in that department..I truly beg to differ.

As a rule, I don’t get along with most females. With that being said, it would make me seem like a hypcrite to voice this next opinion, but here goes. Most men behave the way that they do because WOMEN as a whole, do not care about one another. I have to make a sidenote here because I know some FABULOUS women and I do not include them, nor myself in this category. But for those OTHER heffas, ( and you KNOW who you are), this one’s for you.

I spoke with an “associate” today who is having an affair with a married man. As always, she boasted of the beautiful flowers that he send regularly to her office. She spewed detail after detail of their romantic weekend together at a 5 star hotel. He was attentive, and loving and considerate and satisfied her every desire. According to her, he is the perfect man. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! This woman had actually convinced herself that since they make each other happy, they aren’t doing anything wrong. She actually said that its not their fault that they came together. She TRIED that. 

I sat as long as I could and watched her as she spoke. Surely, deep down she felt guilty about this and felt sorry for causing pain to this woman that she actually knew,this woman  that she had travelled with and had broken bread with on numerous occasions. Surely, my ass was mistaken. I asked a simple question, and got what was truly a simple answer.

“What about his wife?”
“What about her?”
“What do you mean what about her, how do you think she feels about all this?”
“I don’t care! If she was doing what she was supposed to do, he wouldn’t be with me”

I looked at her. Shook my head. And told this woman who is 15 years older than me:

“If you were doing what YOU were supposed to be doing, he’d have left her by now.” She looked at me hard, and told me there was no reason for me to be so mean. ME. HAH!

What has the world come to? I do think that getting a man and keeping a man are not necessarily the same thing. I know where she is coming from by saying that his wife has to do her job. A lot of us, including myself get a good man and think that is the end of it. The same amount of effort it took to get him has to be put into keeping him. I’m learning for myself that there are things that I just have to be more sensitive about if I want to maintain harmony in my own home. However, when did it become okay to pounce on a man at the first sign of discord in his home? What happened to us? When did we stop CARING about each other? IF it is true that men ain’t shit, then why is it that we’re punishing each other INSTEAD of them? We complain that all men do is cheat and lie, yet the first opportunity we get to be with one of their “lyin cheatin asses” we run and jump and immediately side against the wife. Are we that desperate?

What exactly are the qualities that we look for in men nowadays? Men, regardless of their class in life, have higher standards than women. Even a bum off the streets will look for a woman who can take care of them. When it comes to relationships ( actual relationships not friends with benefits) they know to trade UP. Women act so desperate for a man that they take the first thing that comes along. He doesn’t need an education, he doesn’t need his own place to live, his own car, hell he doesn’t even need a JOB half the time for some women. All he needs to do is be a man and be willing to put up with her. That’s it. We’re so desperate to grab hold of a man that we don’t even know what to look for in a man anymore. When you are holding on to someone else’s man with everything you have, what exactly are you holding on to? What about someone who can be so deceitful, and hurtful, and immoral is appealing to you? I just don’t understand that. The men who fit the “ain’t shit” label benefit from the issues that women have. Since we settle for anything, they never have to come at us better. They don’t need to step their game up. They don’t need to finish their degrees, or learn that there is more to dating than just going to dinner and a movie. They know that we will take whatever the hel that they offer us. Why? Because we’re convinced that there are no good men out here, that there are no good Black men out here, that there are no good STRAIGHT BLACK MEN out here so if you find one, married or not, you better hold on to him now and deal with the bullshit later.

Women need to wake up. Noone should be HAPPY, BOASTFUL, PROUD of having a counterfeit relationship made dirty by secret phone calls, stolen moments and lies. We don’t have to be the kind of women who take pleasure in knowing that for every passionate moment we spend with these men, someone’s heart is breaking. Aren’t we BETTER than that? If so, why do we settle for it? There is more to life than getting a man. I pray there is more to life than “taking” someone else’s man. If we got ourselves together, the men would have no choice but to follow suit. We have the power but I guess we’re too busy sniffing the petals of a soon rotted bouquet of roses attached to a note of false promises and empty sentiments to care.

So to the woman that I spoke with today. In case I was unclear in anyway;
I’m not impressed by the flowers. I’m not impressed by the hotels.
Because at the end of the day, you are still a ho.
Because at the end of the day he is still a liar and a cheater.
Because at the end of the day, his wife is a woman, just like you. Who hurts.
Because at the end of the day, no amount of roses will ever mask the stink of you and I think you DO know that, but the problem is, I just think you’re too much of a ho to do better.

Please. Just.Do.Better.

just…don’t talk to me.please.

can’t WAIT to see this!

I saw a preview for this today. I hadn’t heard about it before. It looks like one of those movies that will have me in the theatre bawling.

I.can’t.wait.

..but is he fine though?!

I see myself as a cutie. I wouldn’t define myself as pretty. At times, I would include sexy in my description, but that totally depends on the day and my mood. There are so many ways to be an attractive woman. Very rarely do I just flat out see someone that I say is ugly. In fact, I am usually the annoying person who insists that “everyone is beautiful in their own way” even when that clearly isn’t the case. When I was younger though, it was much simpler than that. You were either pretty or ugly. If you were a guy you were either fine or ugly. That was it. As I got older and gained more experience in certain areas of my life, the way I look at people, namely men has changed drastically. Most of the men that I find attractive are not at all textbook “handsome” men. In fact, I usually don’t notice the pretty boys with the perfect features. Why? I find it a bit boring. Now, at the seasoned age of 32, the character of the man dictates how I see him. I once told a friend of mine that I found Kiefer Sutherland sexy. I know. I know. It wasn’t based on his looks at all though. Kiefer has one of the sexiest voices I’ve ever heard, and to me, that makes him sexy. Most folks know of my feelings toward a certain hip hop mogul who shall remain nameless. One friend ( she knows who she is) would insist that my infatuation stems from the depth of his pockets-implying that the type of money he has would make ANYONE sexy ( even camels). While I won’t lie and say the money isn’t part of the whole package with this person, I found him appealing long before he got THAT large. Why? He has swagger. He wouldn’t be seen as textbook handsome in anyone’s wildest imagination. The cool confidence with which he carries himself though…have mercy.He’s irresistable.(At least to me and that heffa of his). Its been implied that I stay in trouble because I always go for the “bad boy” types; the ones with the swagger, or the incredible sex appeal. I just think that with everything else being equal: the way the man treats you, his ability to take care of you and support you, his love for you and your family, and his ability to be respected and respectful in society…if all these factors were equal, I think every woman “in the know” would go for the guy who in addition to all those things, offered a little extra excitement. Or who knows. Maybe its just me.

HANDSOME:

5 : having a pleasing and usually impressive or dignified appearance
synonym see BEAUTIFUL

SEXY:

1 : sexually suggestive or stimulating : EROTIC
2 : generally attractive or interesting : APPEALING

SWAGGER:

: marked by elegance or showiness : POSH

1 a : an act or instance of swaggering b : arrogant or conceitedly self-assured behavior c : ostentatious display or bravado
2 : a self-confident outlook : COCKINESS

** once in a while you run into someone who embodies all of the above:

I don’t know. I have interesting taste to say the least. What about you? What makes a man FINE in your eyes? Are you into traditional definitions of what is attractive or would you say your taste is a bit more offbeat? I’d love to know that I’m not the only one.

late as usual

if anyone else is always late when it comes to new trends and never seem to be “in the know” as I often find myself, you might like this. i found out about this several months ago. it is the sole reason I have not lost my damn mind in the workplace.when the pressure starts to build, i just turn up the volume and drift away. it keeps me sane, y’all. check it out.

Pandora

melancholy

today isn’t that great. I have an anxious and unsettled feeling that I can’t shake. I’m not sure what its stemming from and its driving me nuts. I’ve been snapping at folks which I don’t normally do. I haven’t eaten, and I’m just completely distracted. My friend just told me to “listen to it”. I’m not sure what that means. I just want it to go away.

**i just looked up melancholy cause I really can’t spell and now I’m even more depressed.

“ an abnormal state attributed to an excess of black bile and characterized by irascibility or depression”

So now I’m depressed AND full of black bile.

Good times.

dead.wrong.

i hate them.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/17577784/

y’all know that ain’t right

What the holy hell is this mess supposed to be? The fake azz Mary J Blige is skrait KILLING me!

Nah,cousin. Apology NOT accepted.

country girl

I am a country girl. Not country in the sense that most folks use it. “City folks” consider anything outside of their own concrete jungles to be country. I don’t use country that way. I’m country in the true sense of the word. I’m talking dirt road walking, barn raising, tobacco farming, tractor riding COUNTRY girl. I’m country as HELL. And I’m damn proud of it.

In my early 20s, I did everything I could to distance myself from the stigma of being country. When folks found out where I come from, I could detect the tilt their city bred noses assume as they ATTEMPTED to look down on me and my sad country self. So I stopped telling folks just HOW country I was. I started saying that I was from the..ahem…OUTER suburbs. Each passing year though, something happened inside me. As I started seeing how messy most of the folks I came into contact with were who were “citified”, I finally saw that they were NO better than me, in fact I started feeling sorry for them. I’m not one to toot my own horn, but I feel I turned into a pretty awesome person. I like to hold my country upbringing responsible for that.

My paternal grandfather owned several tobacco farms in Southern Maryland. He ran the farm with his six sons and some hired help. As his children grew older, he would endow them with their own parcel of land that he divvied up from his farm. His two oldest sons, my father and my uncle R got two prime pieces of land on the hill overlooking his own house. Our house sits on 4 acres or so, as does my uncles. Growing up, my cousins and I NEVER wanted for something to do. We had each other, we had the farm and we had our imaginations. For a country kid, that’s pretty much all that is needed. Between my house and my uncle’s house there was a strawberry patch. On my way to round up my favorite cousin Y to play, I’d grab a handful of strawberries, not bothering to wash them off but stuffing my face with their warm sweetness. I’d arrive at her door, where her mom would greet me and offer me something cool to drink. I’d sit at the table with some Kool Aid and my strawberries and wait for my cousin. The scenario played out the same way when she came to get me. We just switched places.

Every day in the summer was an adventure. The farm was surrounded by woods. Back then, it was safe for kids to go wandering off in the woods to go exploring. Looking back, I think we were kind nasty in that we didn’t pay much attention to what we put in our mouths. We’d gather wild blackberries that grew at the edge of the wood. We’d pick the delicate honeysuckles off their branches. When we were thirsty, we’d kneel on the ground and drink directly from a fresh spring that ran through the woods. We had the best hide and seek sessions in those woods-my cousins, my sister and brother,  any other neighborhood kids we could round up and I. IT WAS WONDERFUL. When the tobacco plants were high, we’d often play hide in seek amongst them (unbeknowingst to my grandfather who would’ve gone smooth off). I actually loved when they were harvesting the plants. Then, we’d get to ride the tractors sometimes if it wasn’t too busy and if it was, my grandparents were too busy to watch us so we could do whatever we wanted. My mother’s family is decidedly more middle class suburban than my dad’s. My cousins on that side LOVED coming to our house. There was always something fun to do and oftentimes I found myself gaining a new appreciation for my life after seeing it through their eyes.

Although now, I’m fully acclimated to living “in the city”, so much so that I can’t imagine going back to the impregnable silence and stillness of the country, at times I really miss it. I miss the freshness and the greenness of it. I miss being able to play outside until late, falling down the side of our hill while trying to catch lightning bugs in mason jars- mason jars that were used for canning, as well as for filling with ice water to bring to my grandfather. I miss it all. I miss casually grabbing a huge sweet tomato from my Granny’s garden, sprinkling it with a little salt and sitting out on the swingset sharing it with my cousin. I miss the feeling of my hands in the dirt, as they often were when I helped my mother or grandmother plant beautiful gardens. I miss laying on the ground and trying to count the stars at night, the sound of crickets. I miss wanting to finish my homework quickly so that I could go out and play. I miss pretending to be sick so that I could spend all day with my Granny, watching her , always bustling about and busy busy busy. I miss getting off the bus and seeing my grandfather’s pick up truck and being treated to a ride to the country store where he always got me a square lollipop and maybe a bag of chips. I REALLY miss my grandmother’s LEGENDARY 4th of July parties where the barns were FILLED with long tables of food, and HUNDREDS…HUNDREDS of people (all family) roamed around the property with smiling faces, full plates and warm hearts. I loved that.

Now everything has changed. The fields are empty. My childhood home and my uncles home have been joined by two more houses built by my aunts and another rental house that my dad owns. The wooded area is considerable smaller as subdivisions are springing up all over the place. The call it growth. I beg to differ. My grandfather is gone now, having passed when I was in the 11th grade. I have nothing but wonderful memories of him. One of my favorite pictures of myself is of my cousin and I sitting on his knee with our matching doll babies. We looked a HOT MESS, but you couldn’t measure our smiles with a ruler. My mother is gone, having passed away three years ago. Everything is different now. Well, most everything. One of my cousins has started his house on the “compound”. His father owns a construction company so on weekends, its a family project to bring up the house. When I visit on the weekends, my Granny who is still busy busy busy can be found frying up chicken, and making a big meal for “the boys” to eat while they are working on the house. Its coming up fast and its huge and its beautiful. Just like my family.

Nowadays, when folks ask me where I’m from, I beam with pride. I am from the country. YES, this intelligent, well versed, versatile,  “articulate”, talented cutie spent her childhood running barefoot through tobacco fields, playing hide and seek in barns and drinking water not from bottles or taps, but right from the ground. And you know what, I wouldn’t have it any other way even if I could!