One small black woman in a big white world

Here's my brand new start

2005-07-24T20:20:00.000-06:00

I know that I've been gone for a minute. Some might even say three months. I 've tried hard to write some entries just to get back in the game, but nothing seemed to flow just right. So like the timid sunbather who shyly sticks her toe in the pool to test the water, I've decided the only way to overcome my fear of the deep is just to jump all the way in. Here's a quick update.

Over the last three months, I've made quite a few changes, most notably a change in location. Goodbye arid Idaho, and hello humid North Carolina! I finally got up the nerve to go through with the transfer @ my job, so I'm now offically located on the East Side. Thanks to my five years in Atlanta, I think I've adjusted to the local atmosphere pretty quickly, and I feel at peace with my move.

I guess leaving Boise got me energized all around, because I've definitely and for sure decided to go back to school! I know I've had that in the works for a while, but this is the first time that it's really felt like a fact to me... It's a long way off, a whole year away, but best believe I'll be in somebody's doctorate program Fall 2006.

Things are looking up at work too. One of the reasons I decided to move was to gain opportunities for promotion, and although I've barely been here for two months, I'm already lightyears ahead of my situation in Boise. After 4 grueling rounds of interviews, I should find out in the next few days if I've finally earned that elusive 4-walled 'unit manager' cubicle I've always yearned for. Wish me luck y'all!

About the worst part of all this was leaving my family behind. I knew that it would be hard to face not being able to see my nephews by just walking down the hall, but I had no idea that it would feel like part of my heart was ripped out! I imagine have a four-year old beg you to "just get in your car and come see me", should be labled as cruel and unusual punishment. Alas life goes on...

I know that this is a bit of a cheat, but I just wanted to get a few words out there. I promise to stay more updated in the near future. Talk to you soon!

Can You be My BOY Friend?

2005-04-14T05:43:00.000-06:00

So yes, Gian, I’m back from the trip. It was great, and I think I did a pretty good job being myself, all in all. I got along with the guys well, although I fear I might have talked a few of them to death. My girl and I had no real issues, which actually was a surprise. I let her see my crazier side, and she didn’t freak out. In fact she joined in a bit, so it was cool. Sorry to report that I didn’t do anything too wild (well… made out w/ one guy in the club, but that’s hardly worth any excitement!) Other than a bit of a hangover from overdrinking my first night, it was a pretty mellow trip. One thing did happen that I want to write about though.

At dinner one night, for some reason I started talking about which of my guy friends I thought was the least attracted to me. That discussion sparked a question about who I thought might be the most attracted to me. I was at a loss about how to answer that, worried about the repercussions the answer might bring. Thankfully others were caught off guard too, so there was a bit of a ruckus, and I got off the hook without having to say anything. But it got me thinking about a theory that I’ve heard time and time again, about friendships between men and women.

Chris Rock says that men and women can never really truly be friends. According to him, basically any man that acts like your friend is just waiting for his chance to screw you. I don’t know if I believe that, but I read something else that I do agree with. In I Wish I had a Red Dress, by Pearl Cleage, one character lays out an idea about the ways men and women can be friends. Basically there are four different relationships, all based on sexual attraction. I didn’t wanna mess this up, so I actually referred back to the book.

First, both people can openly acknowledge that there’s some sort of attraction. This normally ends up with them going at it at some point, unless there is some type of obstacle that stands in their way, like a marriage. Obviously, this hardly ever ends in a real platonic friendship, because love/lust gets in the way.

Next is where only one party is attracted to the other. This type of relationship can last for a long time, with both parties getting along just fine. Then one day, the undercover admirer reaches a breaking point, and it all comes out. Definitely a delicate situation, and one that happens all the time. You’re hanging out with some guy/chick you think is cool, and the next minute someone’s making a declaration of love! It’s hard to bounce back after that, and this normally signifies the end of that relationship.

So what if neither party is attracted to the other? Well in this case, the friendship is doomed to fail. Normally these relationships are pretty simple and surface. When their reason for existence is removed, they just sort of dwindle and fade away. I think of this as the guys that I work with. We’re cool, but I don’t make attempts to spend quality extracurricular time.

Finally, there’s the one that I relate to the most. It where there’s some underlying pull between the pair, but both parties are unable and/or unwilling to act on those feelings. That energy is transferred into developing other types of connections, and creates the bond of friendship between the two. This is where real, deep friendships come from.

This is hardly a new topic, but this presentation really caught my attention, and I’ve kept it in the back of my mind ever since. The more I think about it, the more that I believe that it’s true. I’ve evaluated just about every relationship I have with a man, and excepting those with family members, I could classify them in one of these categories.

It’s easy to discount this at first glance, especially if you equate sexual attraction primarily with physical attraction. For me, I know that’s not always true. Hell, it's not even mostly true. Yes, a guy may be the hottest man in the room, causing a physical attraction. But another can make me laugh, cheer me up, and lift my spirits, appealing to me on an emotional level. And still another can intrigue me intellectually, challenge what I believe, and draw me mentally. I’m sure there are other types of attraction, but these would definitely be things I look for in a guy I’d date. And if they have any of the same feelings for me, then we have a match. Ironically, that doesn’t necessarily mean a romantic interest, because I wouldn’t dream of dating most of them.
But the underlying attraction is still what makes our friendship possible.

So if you read this, I’d like to know what you think. Do you think that men and women can be friends, no strings attached? Let me know!

Fun in the Sun

2005-03-31T02:45:00.000-07:00

I'm going on a trip, a trip, a trip! I'm so excited to get away for this weekend. Soon, (in the next 48 hours, I'll be basking in the warm glow of the San Diego sun, with six of my closest friends.

Actually, with two of my closest friends, and three guys that I would count as friends if I knew them better. As happy as I am, I'm a bit apprehensive about this weekend, for a couple of different reasons.

Sidenote: I've notice lately I haven't blogged all the topics that I want to, because a few things have made we strongly aware of the lack of anonymity I have on here. I don't like the idea of having anything I write interepreted in a hurtful way towards people I care about, I just want to be honest about how I feel. That said, here are my reasons.

Reason 1- I really don't know everyone very well. Up to now, when I've gone somewhere with these guys it was always in a pretty large group. Even the times that I spent with them in college normally surrounded some type of event. A party, a dinner, or whatever. Those types of situations allowed me to do something that I'm pretty good at, avoid being the center of attention. Sure, I'm always somewhat social with all, but I tend to quiet down, stick to the sidelines a bit. I normally spend most of the time talking with the people I feel closest to, notably C-Breezy. With less people, the dynamic is sure to change, and I may have to open up a little more than I'm used to. That thought does scare me a little, but since I like these people, I'm sure it'll be alright. Lord knows, Panama says enough for us all, so I'll probably get of the hook anyway!

Reason 2- I'm close to both of the girls going this time, but I know that I tend to be drawn towards one more than the other most of the time. And both the times that I've gone on these getaways, the other girl didn't come. I'm slightly worried that this might cause a little tension at the beginning, cause she's never seen me behave like the rest of these people have. Funny thing is, the group is acutally seeing more of who am really am now, as a person. I'm concerned that she might not like my actions, or my interactions with people that are essentially her friends. It may sound silly, but I know how that is, cause I've been in that same spot. Still, if we can come to some happy compromise, I'm sure things will work out fine. Bottom line, I'm gotta be me, right? And you either accept it or don't.

Those are pretty much my only concerns, other than what to wear, and what to pack. This vacation is right on time, at the end of a very long project at work. And since my own computer has been down for the count for a few days (the stupid monitor broke), I definitely need something other activity to relieve my stress. I hope everyone is ready to have some fun! I sure am. If you're going, see you tomorrow! If not, we'll write all about when we get back.

Let's Hear it For the Boys, Hollywood Style!

2005-03-22T14:06:00.000-07:00

DISCLAIMER: This blog does not contain one word of insightful thought, so if that's what you're looking for... check back in a few days (or read below)!

I've decided to write a blog to commemorate all the men involved in my Hollywood love life! These men are fine, and all of them deserve their moment in my spotlight! Give 'em love y'all!

BLACK ACTORS

MORRIS CHESTNUT

WHY I LOVE HIM: This should be self-explanatory. Morris is the finest man out there, hands down! This is pure perfection... Refer back if you ever forget what it looks like.
FAVORITE FEATURE: What best feature? Perfection means without flaw! (See Above)
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: The Brothers. Come lay on MY couch, and I'll make you feel all better!

WILL SMITH

WHY I LOVE HIM: He has that ultra-smooth look that can melt any woman!
FAVORITE FEATURE: I like his face, but love that body....
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: Bad Boys. It turned him from a goofy kid to a sexy man. Arrest me officer, arrest me!

DEREK LUKE

WHY I LOVE HIM: He has a rawness about him that translates into sexy!
FAVORITE FEATURE: His cheekbones and dark smooth skin
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: Antwone Fischer. He's still a newbie, but I'm expecting great ( and hopefully a little more nude) things.

LARENZ TATE

WHY I LOVE HIM: He has a boyish charm that draws me even when he's serious.
FAVORITE FEATURE: His great smile. It lights up his whole face!
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: Love Jones. The was the first time I realized "cute" men could hold their own. You want poetry? I have a private recital waiting just for you!

CHRIS ROCK

WHY I LOVE HIM: Money can do wonders! He when from a skinny, ghetto negro to a nice handsome man. He defintely earns the "Most Improved" Award on the list.
FAVORITE FEATURE: His smile, and those mischievious eyes.
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: Bigger and Blacker. He's not the best actor, but his comedy can't be touched.

WHITE ACTORS

BRAD PITT

WHY I LOVE HIM: If Morris is the perfect black man, then Brad is his white brother! Look at him! If only all 41 year old men looked like this....
FAVORITE FEATURE: His intense eyes, although I like everything about him!
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: Can I just pick one? Ocean's 12. Let me show the way I can lick an ice cream cone!

HUGH GRANT

WHY I LOVE HIM: Hugh has this goofiness that is so cute and sexy, and that accent doesn't hurt
FAVORITE FEATURE: His sexy English accent, and those pretty light eyes!
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: Love Actually. A prime minister like that would turn me into an expatriate in a hot second!

JOHNNY DEPP

WHY I LOVE HIM: He gets sexier with time and never seems to age. Also his roles are diverse, giving him a certain complexity
FAVORITE FEATURE: I'm not sure what it I like about him, maybe is smoldering eyes?
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: Chocolat. I was reintroduced to his sexiness after a very long draught. I have a chocolate kiss waiting just for him!

OTHERS

JAY HERNANDEZ

WHY I LOVE HIM: What's not to love? He's the tall, dark and handsome man I dream about!
FAVORITE FEATURE: His face seems to be perfectly symmetric.... I love eveything about him
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: Crazy/Beautiful. If Jay likes crazy girls, I can find a few issues for him to work out with me!

ERIC BANA

WHY I LOVE HIM: He swayed my heart with his breathtaking role as Hector! And I hear he can make me laugh too? Win, win!
FAVORITE FEATURE: He has a ruggeg jawline combined with soulful eyes.
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: Troy. Hector, Hector, I would have made sure you enjoyed you last days!

MULAN PRINCE

WHY I LOVE HIM: Cause he's the impossible! The hot Asian man!
FAVORITE FEATURE: His broad, manly face and body
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: Since he's not real, guess I can skip this one.

CHOW YUN FAT

WHY I LOVE HIM: For real though, I think he's the closest I can come to a good looking Asian man
FAVORITE FEATURE: I like the combination of asian features with his square face.
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: The King and I. Did someone say English teacher? I have a few lessons for you!

FALLEN FROM GRACE

DENZEL WASHINGTON

WHERE HE WENT WRONG: I love him so much, but DW is starting to let his age show a bit. And after Training Day I really felt like he needed to hit the training bag for a while.

TOM CRUISE

WHERE HE WENT WRONG: He had me at "Hello" too, for most of my adolescent life. But nowadays, his looks are with withering faster than a Magnolia blossom.

FLASHBACK CUTIE

KADEEM HARDISON

WHY HE WAS THE MAN: Dwyane Wayne represented (still does) exactly what I want in a man, intellegence and decent looks
FAVORITE FEATURE: This one was all about the mind, but he does have a nice smile!
ROLL OF A LIFETIME: Dwayne Wayne... If you want to write poetry about math, I'll listen to you all day long!

My reflection in the mirror

2005-03-20T18:54:00.000-07:00

I did something that I don’t normally do today. I looked into a mirror while I was out in public. On regular day, I’ll check myself out a bit as I get ready, just to make sure I don’t have toothpaste on my mouth, or something stuck in my hair. After I get out the door though, I rely on faith that nothing terrible will happen that I might not catch. When I do absolutely have to face-off, I kinda do an overall check, without actually focusing in on the details of the reflection staring back.

It’s not that I have a phobia of mirrors or anything. It’s more like a phobia of myself. I don’t want to see the “me” that everyone else is seeing. I’m scared that my reflection might show something that I am not prepared to handle.

When I’m at home, there’s just me, the person I’ve been all my life. I see her everyday, I know what to expect. But the minute I step out of the door, all of that changes. At that time, I become subject to constant comparison of every other person I see. Do I look better than that woman? Is she cuter than me, smaller than me, more normal than me? Are they happier than I am? I feel caught up in the standards of the world around me, and I honestly have a very hard time being able to tell where I fit in. Rather than subject myself to all that, most of the time I just choose not to look at all.

Sometimes though, something happens and I find myself gazing into my own eyes. Maybe I feel really great, and I want to enjoy the few times I can see my own beauty. Or maybe I’ve had a horrible day, and I look at my own anguish, trying to find something to move me forward. Today I was just looking, hoping to find a glance of me, who I am really am, or maybe who I’m supposed to be.

Today I saw this movie where the main character was a 26 year-old guy, thrown into a situation above his head, just trying to make it. Ultimately, he realizes that he just doesn’t know where he’s going, but that the path thus far isn’t the right one. God, I feel like that all the time. Most of the people that I know feel like that too. When I looked into my post-college handbook, I must have missed the “Feel completely lost and uncertain about what you really want” chapter. All I was ever taught was that you go to college, get a great career, and live happily ever after. I had no idea that things could derail before ever getting started, or that there was such a thing as a “quarter-life” crisis. Is there some kind of secret conspiracy at work here? Why didn’t anyone tell me to watch out for this?

I just can’t seem to get myself on steady ground anymore. I can’t seem to solidify any relationship, I’m not satisfied with my job, and I still can’t make a decision on what I want to do in the future. I know “I want more in life”, but I’m not even sure what that statement means anymore. I’ve planned yet another move to try and make some sense of things, but I’m not sure that will help things either. In a way, I feel like I’m avoiding the problems in my life the same way I do the mirror, only I feel helpless to solve them.

I’ve been feeling a bit overwhelmed with all for a bit now, and the movie really pushed it to the forefront of my mind. It also pushed me to stare into that bathroom mirror. As I stood there, I allowed my eyes to really focus on what I was seeing. I even got a little closer, so I could see all the blemishes, and I turned so that I could get a side view. What I saw wasn’t glamorous. I am still not the gorgeous creature I wish I was, and my eyes don’t have the sparkle of someone in love with life. But I didn’t see someone horrid either, even with all the imperfections right there on the surface, so maybe there’s some hope for me. All in all, things were ok, and I made it through the experience intact. I just hope I can make it through this period in my life the same way.

A Car Ride to Remember

2005-03-16T03:13:00.000-07:00

I think I've started this blog three times, and I'm determined to get my thoughts out this time. It's been a while since I've written anything, maybe because I've just had too many thoughts to give enough attention to any one topic. At least until last weekend...

It all started with my typical visit to the barber to get a cut. I hate to go, mainly because of my barber ( from here on referred to as Cecil) and his overbearing attitude. He spends a lot of time really trying to tell me how to live, especially since I told him about my decision to transfer my job across the country. He doesn't agree with my decision, but really I don't think he knows me well enough to have the right to make any kind of comment.

The one thing that has made my trips to the barber even partially enjoyable was the chance to glimpse the cute guys that naturally frequent. On one particular trip, I met this guy Will, who I mentioned in my Weakness blog. He was a friend of Cecil's who used to work at the shop, and was helping out while he was in town for a few days. I flirted a bit, but since he was just a visitor, I didn't give him too much thought. However, when I called to make an appointment and Will answered the phone, I was pleasantly suprised. I started hoping that he'd still be there on Friday when I actually went in, and he was. Cecil dominated the conversation as usual, so I didn't get much of an opportunity to engage Will in a casual chat, but I was able find out that he was back in town for good, and also that he remembered me from his previous visit. We did a little more joking, teasing and flirting, and by the time I left the salon I felt pretty nice, despite the fact that I'd agreed to attend church with Cecil and the family the following Sunday.

I wasn't too excited about having to get up at 7:30 AM Sunday morning. Being that I work late, that's often just about the time I'm crawling into my bed. I made the sacrifice however because I felt the need to keep my promise, so I pulled myself together, and threw on a nice sweater and a decent pair of slacks. And when I pulled up to Cecil's house and saw Will walking out of the front door, dressed so nicely in a jacket and pants, I knew that I'd made the right decision. I was elated to see him, excited at the chance to spend more time with him. My excuberance was flattened a few minutes later however, when he informed me that women in his church only wear dresses. I should have been prepared, as I'd noticed before that the women in Cecil's family never seemed to wear pants. Normally, I wouldn't really even go to place with such a restrictive rule, but since I was already there, Will was there, and I wanted to repect their beliefs, I quickly donned a borrowed skirt and jumped into the car for the 45 minute drive. I worried about what to expect ahead. Cecil had told me on a previous occasion that it was wrong for women to cut their hair, so I was prepared to experience some crazy cult stuff out there in the desert. But basically the service was normal, albeit long, and I found that I actually enjoyed the experience overall. By the time we started our drive back, I was feeling good, relaxed and mellowed, and totally unprepared for what happened next.

Have you ever had a talk with someone that changed you somehow? That's what happened with me and Will. It started out simply, me mentioning his choice to move back to Boise and give up his construction contracting business in Reno. But it quickly turned into far more than that. I've tried to write what was said, but nothing that I can type truly conveys the depth of our discussion. He questioned my responses to what he had to say, and he forced me to justify my own decisions to move, even went as far as telling me that he didn't agree with my plans. During that brief drive through the mountains, he pushed me to give of myself more than any person in the last two years, and I did it easily, for him. Although he opened up about his own situation, in response to what I'd said, he left me with only vague statments about why he thought I should stay. He never made a single solid gesture that he even liked me, but when I left the car, I felt like my center had been tilted by him and his words.

And that's pretty much where I'm at now, pondering the meaning of our talk. I can't stop thinking about him. I wonder why I allowed him to ask the things he asked, why I even gave him the right to pass judgement on what I had planned. I think about the way his words drew me into his feelings, and the improtance that I assigned to his opinions. I replay everything over and over, trying to find some concrete detail about his feelings for me. I have these strong feelings for him, so unlike a whimsical crush, and so different that meeting some guy in a club. I know I'm a different person than the one that got into his car that morning, and I no longer even think about him the fine-ass guy at the shop, as I once had. The thought that I might be wrong about his feeling sends me into a panic, and I can't breathe when thoughts of him run through my head. This isn't typical behavior for me, but this man is consuming me. I just don't know why.

He didn't ask for my number, although I feel and overwhelming urge to see him again, every day. I tried to think up excuses to go and see him, but I don't feel like that behavior is in the spirit of the feelings that I have. I have finally found a concrete reason for a visit, however, and I have every intention of telling him that I've thought long and hard about our discussion, and seeing where that leads. I know this enty is very jumbled, and I apologize, but that's exactly the way that I feel. I'll keep you posted on the details...

Zumanity, damn, damn, damn!

2005-03-03T04:00:00.000-07:00

Damn it! I mean really. I've been doing some exploring lately, spreading out and reading more people's blogs than I usually do. And it seems like I all I keep running into is sex, sex, sex. People talking about sex, making out, having sex, describing wild sex sessions, even NOT having sex. I can't handle it. Now, I'm a grown woman, and I haven't sworn a vow of chastity or anything, so under normal circumstances this would be all good. Really, I love sex a LOT! I have a strongly-held belief that every person has some type of pornagraphy that gets them all warm/wet inside. I'm admitting right here, right now, that mine is Literotica. A good story, that I can really visualize, and the party's started for me. And therein lies the problem. I'm not getting any, won't be getting any anytime soon, and reading all this ish is wearing me out. But I figure, if I can't get away from the smut, might as well add to it, right? Right!

So, as you might have caught on in C-Breezy's last post, our friends go on trips every year to a number of different places. Last Labor Day, we converged on Sin City 13 strong! With our own rented house, pool, jacuzzi, $300 worth of liquor, 100+ degree temps, and lots of black ass everywhere, the weekend quickly turned into one big hot sex fest.

We started the drinking early, so by the time we actually stepped out of the house to see the Las Vegas strip, most of us already felt nice. Feeling a little daring that night, I dropped my low waist jeans a little lower for an obliging fan. The second night, I took part in a private game of "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours". But the third night is when temperatures really started to rise....

At the suggestion of one the guys, we decide to see the new, hot Cirque Du Soleil show, Zumanity. So eight girls and one dude set out to see the circus. I wasn't prepared for the onslaught of amazing sexual acts that I was entertained by. I'm sure the other guys will forever regret their lack of attendance. This show is really beyond my mere mortal words, but here are my favorite acts:

Two girls in a fish bowl- I can't say that I've never been curious about girl-on-girl action, though I've never tried myself. This was a fluid, always moving, playful, and curious exploration between girls as they discovered each other in new and exciting ways. I finished this act all warmed up.

The wrestling men- Again, same-sex interaction, but this time it was a lot more physical, with the men both fighting their feelings, and yet using their battle to succumb to it at the same time. This scene ended with a kiss so passionate, I could feel the energy in my seat, well away from the stage.

Rub-a-dub-dub- Two people in a U shaped tub. There was definitely a lot of slippin and sliding goin on! Watching them take a ride on top of that fantastic tub left me wet too, and in need of a nice cold shower.

Tie me up- Or better yet, just chain me up, and let me torture myself for pleasure. This was definitely one for the ears, and the whole theater was completely silent as this woman twisted, pulled and gasped her way up to a soaring climax, literally! I'm pretty sure everyone forgot to breathe for a few minutes while listening to her moans.

Needless to say, after that performance, I became Ms. Unsexstoppable! I let my groping friend cop whatever feel he wanted, and I flirted with every sexy black man I could find! I even, and this must be some type of miracle, pulled a black man away from a white woman (please hold all applause til the end!) So I know my game was on. Leaving him at the door of the club, I moved onto the sexy cutie Carlos. We grinded (is that a word?) on the dance floor for about an hour, until he begged me to leave with him, and you know I wanted to, right? But the night was young, and I couldn't leave my girls, so we exchanged numbers and I moved my flirt train right on. At the end of the night, just as we were about to leave, I found my first cutie of the night, who it seemed I stilled owed a dance... HE opted for a secluded chat in the corner as payback, which ended up with me straddling him while he kissed me into sweet submission, which is exactly how my friends found me. DAMN, that boy could kiss. So I decided to break the rules and let Sin City have its way. I said goodbye to my girls, prayed the guys wouldn't notice my absence, and had my own episode of "Taxicab Confessions" on the ride to his house.... I wish that I could say that what happened next was magical, but that would be a lie! My hot night went cold cause the Ni**a was the worst f@%k I ever had! Besides not being prepared (I never play in the rain without a jacket), his ass couldn't even seem to find where everything should go. I even fell asleep before the action even started! I left sad, disappointed, and basically still horny as hell!

But you know I couldn't end it like that right? After facing the Grand Inquisition back at the house the next morning (it seems my absence was noticed, after all!), I decided to call up sexy Carlos... And of course, he was willing to take my call. We met up later that night, and after a little small talk, we got straight down to business. I'm happy to say that he definitely took care of my, um, problem. Thank Carlos!

Upon returning the next morning, I was officially awarded the "Playa" Title for the trip. Probably the tramp title too... but I digress. It seems I was not the only one affected by the Zumanity bug, though! After a few drinks (actually there wasn't a time we weren't drinking, come to think of it), our leisurely Sunday by the pool quickly turned into what will forever be known as the "Zumanity photo shoot". There was a whole lot going on in the water that day, and I have the pictures to prove it! Quite a few people could have very promising careers in the, uh, film industry, I assure you.

Quote of the Day/Trip- "I didn't even see Zumanity, and it
changed my life."

There were lots of other side items during our trip, but to protect the innocent, and myself, I'm leaving those out. What happens in Vegas... well, you know! Just take heed! Once you go Zumanity, you can't go back!

A few of my favorite things

2005-02-28T00:04:00.000-07:00

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

2005-02-25T03:17:00.000-07:00

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

2005-02-20T02:13:00.000-07:00

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

2005-02-13T12:36:00.000-07:00

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

2005-02-09T10:48:00.000-07:00

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.

In a moment of weakness...

2005-01-27T16:52:00.000-07:00

I made a bad decision.

I’ve been sittin’ here, trying to find a funny cute way to say it, but f$%! it!

I texturized my hair the other day.
I texturized my hair the other day.

I know, you’re probably thinking “so what”, right? But if you know me, you might know that I’ve had natural hair since I was about seventeen years old. I live and breath natural hair. Really, it’s a part of who I am.

I didn’t grow up doing my hair. Until I was twelve, except for the occasional summertime cornrow reprieve, I wore my hair in two long braids that went straight back. And they weren’t French braids, no no, cause my mom never learned how to do that. Really it was three braids in each one, connected together. And on special days, we put in those puffy cotton ribbons, in whatever color matched our outfits. Not exactly the height of fashion, but that’s all I knew, and I was content.

From there everything went downhill. I moved in with my black uncle and white aunt, who had no idea who what do with my nappy ass hair. The logical solution? A trip to the hair salon, and my first perm. I shook it, I brushed it, I loved it. For about a month. Then I had to take care of it, and that’s where it all started to fall apart. Over the next few years, my hair continually got shorter and thinner. I got more and more lectures about doing my hair. So on that fateful day in my senior year, I took the plunge, cut off the perm, and broke free.

And that’s the way it’s been. Over the years, I've had a lot of different hairstyles, and I know they haven’t all been cute. I’ve grown it out and cut it off several times, but I’ve never broken out the chemical kit since.

The problem is, the other day, my resistance was down. Not an excuse, but it is the truth. I had a stomachache. And when I looked in the mirror that morning, I was definitely thinking about a change. Lastly, before my appointment, I hit a man on a bike. It was pretty safe to assume I wasn't think clearly. So when the barber pushed and pushed, I gave in. I knew it was wrong from the beginning. I was mad when he while he put in, I was pissed when it started to burn, and when I looked in the mirror and saw the lack of nap, I wanted to cry.

So now I'm stuck with it, a headful of almost curly hair, and two chemical burns. The only thing that made the trip better the 15 minute conversation w/ Will, the beautiful man who took care of my shampoo and rinse. (I now officially think the hair stylist/construction co. owner is the perfect combination in a man. Who else can tell you "I got this" in a nice masculine voice, and gently cradle your head in his big strong arms?)

The worst part about the whole thing is that everyone seems to like it more. I've had so many people tell me that my hair looks so much nicer, and really the only difference is that it's a little longer, a little less nappy. I hate the rule that says that a woman with short, natural hair is somehow less attractive than one that has a processed style. I don't believe it, I won't support it. I'm not weak anymore.

One more month, and I'm back to the real me. The natural me.

Are you crazy???

2005-01-23T14:22:00.000-07:00

As I get older, I realize more and more that I have a lot of irrational thoughts/behaviors. I know they're not normal, I know that I shouldn't think they way that I do, but there I am, in some situation, doing or saying the craziest things.

Of course, not all examples are that serious, like the way that I have to separate the crust from the toppings on my pizza and smash my ice cream into my cake, or I how I still feel a surge of anger ever time I see Lawrence Fishbourne for the way he beat Tina's ass. People look at me crazy, but I keep on doin what I do.

Other things are more crucial. I went to the movies to watch Ray, feeling pretty guilty for taking to so long to support a movie that I heard was worthy. Not too far in, they start shooting up heroine. For reasons too long to get into, I am extremely sensitive about anything that shows drug use. So I see the needle, I freak out, and I curl up in a ball in the movie theater, kinda rocking back and forth with my eyes closed until the scene is over. I knew that I was acting silly, but I couldn't help it. And because I knew that I shouldn't act that way, I refused to leave, allowing myself to be tortured over and over again. This wasn't the first time it's happened. As time goes on, my crazy tendencies gets worse and worse, and I get more stuck in my ways.

My question is, is there really a way to overcome these, beyond hypnotism, or some other form of psychotherapy? I would like to think of it as mind over matter but, at least for me, my mind loses the battle the majority of the time. And I know that I'm not the only one who does crazy things. Maybe, really, we just have accept our odd little characteristics, see them as part of what makes us who we are... I don't know, maybe I'll break open a Reese's, slowly eat the outside, then savor that creamy middle, and ponder it for a while.

The Bachelorette Theory

2005-01-18T23:38:00.000-07:00

I've sacrificed hours, days, summing up to weeks, of my life watching reality shows. For a while I thought it was just wasted time. Then, while I was talking to a friend about my favorite subject (my statistical likelihood of being single forever), all those hours spent staring zombie-like at the TV culminated to create what I like to call my "Bachelorette Theory".

The shows I liked the most were the dating ones, especially when the woman was the center of attention. 25 decent-looking guys vying for the attention of one girl... kinda gives me a flashblack to Spelman days. With that many choices you really get the chance to sort though the crowd to find the hidden gem.

So here's my theory:
Black women only have roughly a 40% chance of getting married once, and we all know the divorce statistics. If I have to live with those numbers over my head, I might as well treat my life like a dating game too. White girls aren't special! Give me (or anyone) 20-25 decent guys to choose from, and I guarantee I (or you) can find the man of my (or your) dreams.

Here's how the theory works: First you have to get over the idea of the "one" right person for you. We've all experienced that one we thought would be THE ONE, but face it y'all, we're older now, and still single. Forget love at first sight, and concentrate on long-term compatibility.

Next: This is real life, and I'm not a supermodel blonde, so we gotta add some ghetto-proof bachelor qualification rules:

1. You gotta be SINGLE- Not "I'm with someone, but she's cool w/ me talking to other girls". No empty ring finger w/ a suspiciously light indentation. DEFINITELY no on-the-side "friends, with benefits"!

2.The jobless need not apply! Not to hate, but I need all my money, and some of yours too. Your know the saying, "What's yours is mine..."

3. I'm not pregnant, so I don't think I'm ready for a man with any kids.... Really though, I don't want none of your baby mama drama. We can take plenty of time to make beautiful children together.

4. I'm imposing the age limit of 25-32. If you're as fine as Morris Chestnut or Brad Pitt, that rule can be overlooked, at my discretion.

5. You gotta have your own place. Nothing is worse than having to date a man's momma just to get a little closer to him.

And here's the DEAL-BREAKER!

5. You gotta be able to "go down" the path less traveled. I feel a little funny about including that, but without this one the whole game is off! Come on men, it's 2005! Do it, like it, love it! Love is a give and a take, and I can take a whole lot for the right man! Show me you can too.

Other than that, unless you have some kind of obvious defect, I am open to anything.

Those are my rules and I think they're fair. Stick them, and I believe my theory has a 99.95% chance of working out. The guidelines are flexible.
And I think 25 men is plenty of room for error, detours, and bad judgement.

Of course, I live in Idaho, and I can't really say that I'm an "equal opportunity lover", so it will be a while until I can really set my plan in action. But when I do, watch out! And if anyone else tries my theory, your results will be great appreciated!

Living in Foreign Territory

2005-01-15T07:00:00.000-07:00

So I officially feel like one of those fuzzy brown animals who dives head first into the ocean, blindly following the masses... And I have a sinking feeling that I might drown in the end, before I remember to look up. Oh well, here's my toe-dip into the blog world.

So my main reason for writing is to fill the world in about my experiences living in a foreign country. Some of you may have heard of it, though I am sure that few of you have ever, or will ever, brave its borders.... We call it Idaho. If you thought, even for a moment, that Idaho might actually be part of THIS country, as YOU know it, you'd be wrong. I know some of you might try to fight me on this, but I know what I'm talking about. To gain the proper (and by that I mean MY) perspective, here are a few country facts:

Population: 1,300,000
BLACK Population: 5300 (rounded up)
Person per square mile: 15.6
% of Idaho black : A WHOPPING 0.4% !!!

Put the above together with these facts :

** Not a complete list **

1. I don't understand my people- By that, I mean the good old black folks. Somewhere between the 1997 and 2001, the Black Idahoans officially voted in a new language, and forgot to send me a notice. How can I have grown up here with my sister, in the same household, and not understand the word that come from her lips?

2. The lack of basic amenities found in other places- How hard should it be to get a basic haircut? Where can I go to find some hair grease? Where is a the wing shop? Can I get a good bootleg movie?

3. The conservative political views- Unofficially the most Republican state. Dema-what, Dema-who? If your motto's not "I think, therefore I'm Republican," stay far far away.

4. Inbreeding issues (Assuming I could actually find someone to date)- With the miniscule number of African-Americans present, before I seriously consider anything but holding hands, I gotta check the geneology for family ties. Unfortunately, I think my sister forgot that step (couldn't warn her 'cause of the language barrier).

I know that most black people have experienced some of these things, or even all of them, at some time. But put 'em all together in one location and what do ya get? Yep, something closely resembling a foreign land to any sane black person. I spent a whole year in Japan, and somehow I feel more lost in my own hometown...

Welcome to life in Idaho, more details to come...