A few of my favorite things

I'm in a good mood. Do you ever just have those moments when you feel nice, relaxed, and love life? That's how I feel right now. I went out to dinner and a movie, had a good girl chat. Came home and flirted with my always crush. Just a kinda chill night, the perfect time to write about a few of my favorite things.

• The Sound of Music
• Seeing movies where people fall in love
• The moment when I realize I'm in love myself
• Sleeping during a rain or thunderstorm
• Falling asleep in the arms of the one I love
• Watching my lover sleep in the middle of the night
• Watching Love and Basketball when I can't sleep at night
• The scene where Omar Epps holds his mama
• All men who love black women
• Especially dark-skinned cuties with nice smiles
• Catching the eye of that cutie across the room
• The first phone call from a new man in my life
• Hearing the inner thoughts of intelligent men
• The tingle in my pinkie finger when I get aroused
• A gentle peck on the palm of my hand
• A slow nibble on the top of my neck
• A soft kiss on the inside of my thigh
• The moment before... the moment after
• Being left-handed in a right-handed world
• Being a strong, intelligent, black woman
• Days when I look in the mirror and see that woman
• Great friends who support me always
• Spending time laughing with my girls
• Talking on the phone about nothing at all
• Hearing a classic song on the radio
• Any album by Maxwell
• Or India Arie
• Singing "I just call to say to say I love you" with my nephew in the back seat
• Hearing my newphews say "I love you"
• Doing things to make them happy
• Remembering the moment I became an aunt
• Reminiscing about my college days
• And my time in Japan
• The red yukata that I bought and wore
• And the matching hand-painted lacquer umbrella I got as a farewell gift
• Eating freshi sushi
• Savoring the chocolate paradise pie at Chili's
• Getting new mail
• Or new comments on a blog
• Reading a blog where it seems someone's writing MY life story

And a million other things! But that's enough for now.

Cute Girl Complex

Don’t call me cute.

I’m 5’1, look like I’m sixteen, have a round baby face, and I even have a slight lisp. I talk louder when I get excited, I giggle and I tend to smile a lot. So, don’t get me wrong, I know where you’re coming from, I know why you might say that… kinda.

But I still don’t like it.

I’ve realized that I have a serious case of CUTE GIRL COMPLEX!!! Much like the short man has to prove he’s bigger than he looks, the cute girl has to spend a whole lotta time trying to prove she’s a grown ass woman. When people don’t see you as an adult, they try to treat you like a child. That means I spend too much time trying to show people that I AM actually old enough to buy alcohol, see that movie, or make out with that guy in the club (just kidding….ok no I’m not!).

Do you know what it’s like having someone ask your 19 year old friend if you came with her 14 year old sister?

OR trying to convince someone that you (who looks 15 when she‘s really 21) really are old enough to be dating the guy at your side (who looks like he’s 26 when he’s really 22)? Wait! Don’t call the cops!

OR standing outside the bar on your 24th birthday, cause the bouncer can’t decide if your VALID ID is a fake or not?

Well I do.

And I’m damn tired of it. So if you meet me in the street, and you just have to call me something, try one of this these adjectives instead: INTELLIGENT, SEXY, SWEET, FUNNY, HONEST, LOVING, LOYAL, BEAUTIFUL, SILLY and even a little bit FREAKY!

Cause I can be all of those things. But don’t call me cute. I might just beat your GROWN ass.

My trojan horse

I was sitting here tonight watching Troy. I saw the movie in the theater, and the day that I learned it came out on video, I was driven by some unseen force to buy it. Literally, I had to stop what I was doing, drive to the store, proceed directly to the DVD section (do not pass go, do not collect $200), and grab the first copy I could find. Then, I guarded it like it was the last piece of cake on earth, until I could pay for it and get the hell out of the store. It’s not that it’s my absolute favorite movie in the world. I am not overly fascinated by the Iliad or Homer. Though I do have an affinity for historical drama (accurate or not), I originally went to see Troy because of my undying adoration for Brad Pitt, which by the way will be discussed in more detail in an upcoming blog. Call me shallow or whatever, but I couldn’t pass up the chance to see Brad, legs, arm and chest bared, for three glorious hours. And of course, he didn’t disappoint.

But for some reason, as I was sitting in that dark theater by myself, it wasn’t really glorious Achilles’ story that moved me, but rather that of Hector, the oldest prince of Troy. Hector was the honorable son, the one who did all the right things. He loved his wife, his family, and his country, seemingly unconditionally. He followed the laws, he led the armies, and worked for the good of his people, often at the sacrifice of his own happiness and love. And when his hothead little brother decides to seduce and kidnap a Greek queen, it’s Hector that comes to his rescue to kick some Spartan ass. A good man by any estimation. And what's Hector's great reward? Death. He’s loved by his people, he’s respected by enemies, and all the while his body is burning and on its way to the great beyond.

I wake up a lot of mornings feeling just like Hector. His struggle pulls at me heart and soul, and I recognize the anguish that shows through every scar, cut and scratch on his face. I love my family and I try to do what is right. When all hell breaks lose, I’ve set aside my goals and happiness to try and make it better for them. Throughout my life, and especially in recent years, protecting those that I care about the most has been the one of the heaviest burdens I’ve had to bear. And just like Hector, I die a little every single day.

I do want to continue to live an honorable life. But seeing the First Prince being dragged across the ground behind Achilles’ chariot always serves as a wake up call to me. Every person has to pick their own battles. I’m reminded again that my life’s purpose is not to sit around trying to protect people that, in the end, really hold the keys to success or failure in their own hands. Despite all of Hector’s brave battles and admirable shows of courage, his city falls, his father is killed. And in those moments that I try the hardest to keep it all together, I can see that really I’m fighting a losing battle too.

I know that the Hector’s sacrifice was important. There comes a time when we all have to give of ourselves for some greater purpose. But for once, I am going to focus on me, and accomplish the great things that I know that I am capable of, and maybe even meant to do. So as always, I am crying my tear for you, Hector. But I refuse to lay down my own sword just yet. I think I’ve found the energy to move to the next battle along my path.

Paradox in action

You know what? I've never taken the time to really talk about the reason that I chose the name of my website. You know what paradox means? Ahem, I quote:

A seemingly contradictory statement that may nonetheless be
true.

I really started to use that word when I was in twelfth grade, when we had to look up all these words for the the AP Lit Test, and paradox was one of my words. It seems appropriate, cause my own life seems to be a paradox most of the damn time. Here's my proof-

Exhibit A:
I've been working at my dumb ass job for two years now. I never meant to keep it, but I kept changing positions, getting other assignments, and I kinda just got sucked in. So I apply for a management position, one that I don't think is the greatest, but that I am positive that I am qualified for. DENIED!!!! A why, you ask? Not enough experience. Our brilliant company has decided to fill all relevant positions with managers who will transfer from other sites.

Paradox 1- How the hell do you get experience in a job that is only being filled by people who already have the job???? It's one of those chicken and the eggs questions that aren't really meant to be answered, I guess. (BTW- If I shoot upper management in the middle of the forest where no one can actually see, did it really ever happen? The world will never know.)

Paradox 2- All previous mentioned transferred managers aren't actually doing the jobs they were hired for, cause **SURPRISE**, they aren't here, and may not actually be here for a few months. So who gets the delightful task of filling in as acting managers? You guessed it, all the qualified people who were declined for lack of experience. THE FUCK??????? So I'm not actually good enough to do the job I applied for long term, but I'm good enough to do all the work of setting up teams, monitoring associates, and all around getting everything running smoothly for someone more "experienced" to step in? If I wanted that shit, I would have worked in consulting. This here is "paradox" in action my friends....

I know I'm not the only one.... is there anyone else out there who seems to have this type of luck? I would love to know that I'm not just special!

A home away from home

NOTE* I know that a lot of people wrote about our trip to Atlanta, so mine won't be too long... I didn't read any of the other blogs before writing mine, so if I sound repetitive, forgive me!

I have been excited for the last month about my upcoming trip to Atlanta that happened last weekend. Because of the surprise factor involved, I've haven't been able to write any of the things that I really wanted to say. Getting away from my crazy life and taking a vacation were part of the reason for cheer, but I was also overwhelmingly happy to see all the people that I had fun in Vegas with several months before. However, by the time I touched down in Atlanta, my frenzied energy was replaced by something a little unexpected, a sense of familiarity. I got off the plane and rode the train to pick up my bags without any real conscious thought, like I'd done it a million times before. It felt like I was just coming home.

I think that's what set my mood for the whole trip. I'm a newcomer/outsider to the group of people that I've been traveling with of late. Although I've known them all for years, and spent time with them occasionally, I've rarely done the things they did, or spent time hanging out with them as a whole. As a result, I often sit on the sidelines a bit, watching them interact, listening to the stories that they tell. That's what I did quite a bit this weekend. I made it a point to avoid the pictures, duck out of the video camera, and watch them just be together. What I saw was inspiring.

First, each of them are an amazing achievement on their own. Hard to find decent black men? I saw five smart, driven, handsome, respectful, successful gentlemen this weekend. Think black women are all hard to deal with? I saw eight lovable, succeeding, beautiful, supportive women over the last few days. All of them were unique and wonderful in their own way, bringing a special energy with them to table.

Now take all those beautiful people and put them in to a close friendship. The separate bonds that they have between them are interesting to see, but the way they all connect together honestly is like nothing I've seen before. They joke and laugh, share memories, watch each other's back, and cheer each other on. They joke about the short guy in the club one second, and then turn around and discuss the difficulties of the black male professional in the next breath. Dressed for a night on the town, or camped out on the rug for a night in, they hug, hold, and love each other without worrying what anyone else thinks. And during crunch time, they pull through to help one of their own, time and time again.

I know all of this probably sounds a little cheesy, but at times I feel like it's an honor to watch as this group of great people all get closer and closer, and to share in their moments of togetherness. In the end, it's people that make a vacation special. And to me, these people are more than just the perfect group of friends, they are the perfect family, something I was glad to come home to.