Unsolicited...

I used to think it cruel to sit back and watch other people make mistakes without trying to warn them or give them a heads up.  When you see an uncovered manhole right in front of someone and it's blatantly, screamingly obvious that they're gonna walk right into it, how do you not say anything?

Every now and then a situation comes along to remind me that some people want what they want so badly that they don't care about the potential for disaster, they ignore common sense in just hoping that things work out in the end. 

Yeah, um... I'm going to jump out of this airplane... I know I don't have a parachute, but hopefully I won't... you know, die when I hit the ground.  All signs logically point to my being real fucked up once I meet terra firma, however I have faith that this is going to work out well and in my favor - because I really, really hope it does. 

Really?

I'll give you an example.  A guy I went out with a long time ago (a formerly written about first date disaster), is now about to get married.  Two months ago, this same guy was texting me and asking to try again.  Presuming he correctly translated my non-response as the answer: "Not interested, keep it movin'" and presuming he didn't know this woman when he was trying to get with me, that would mean he's only dated her seriously for two months, right?   And he's going to get married now.  Then it comes to light that it's a long-distance relationship, so two months of "knowing" her is probably more accurately two weeks of "knowing" her.  Again, I ask, really?   (And for those of you thinking this guy was probably juggling several women at once...  I don't think so.  He just didn't strike me as being that quick... or capable.)

He wasn't a bad guy, there was just no chemistry with us...and the first and only date was absolutely awful.  However,  I don't have any ill-will for him which is why on some level I feel it cruel not to say anything.  I want to reach out to him and say, can you think about that a little more?  Can you give that some more time, because if it's meant to happen, waiting for a bit longer while you truly get to know one another shouldn't be an issue. 

On another level - the most important one - I then remember that it's none of my damned business. 

Not my business, therefore my unsolicited opinion shall only be heard in the minds of those that read this blog.  For that reason alone (well, plus the fact that he hasn't asked for my two cents, lol), mistake or not, my mouth stays shut.  It's his mistake (or not) to make, and I'll leave him to his life lesson, good or bad.

I Write Because it Releases Me, and Maybe You Too...

If you are anything like me - outspoken, fairly moody, mean sometimes, smart, proverbially corny, politically incorrect, foul mouthed, fascinated by taboo, stubborn, yet loving and still kind and unbelievably loyal  - you find yourself surrounded by people who don't always get you.  They don't always understand.  You can express yourself all day long, but you don't get an honest impression, reaction, or any kind of legitimate feedback from them because instead of accepting you as presented, they're too busy trying to figure you out.

Stop trying to figure me out.  Your role is one of three:  Love me, hate me or otherwise leave me be.  Choose one and let's be on about our business.

My business, currently, is getting my shit together so I can realize the goal I've always entertained of writing a book.  Why?  As has always been, most often, I prefer the company of books over people.  Why?

I don't have to explain myself to a book, it doesn't judge me or mis-characterize me because it doesn't understand me.  I don't have to answer as to why I think a certain way, choose to look a certain way, date the men I date or dump the ones I dump.  Books open themselves up to a mind willing to absorb and feel, and hope and wish, they accept me both beautiful and flawed and in return, I give them all the love I have.

Within a book, those words that I read lead me to thoughts that I think, questions that I ask and wonders that I ponder - those words that I love fill me up and in turn - must be given back to the world again.  That's my circle of life...  You ain't gotta be in my circle if you're not sure you want to be, however, I think that in any book I write, if you're honest, you might just find a little bit of you too. 

I write because I love putting the words together that tell my story.  I write because I learn a lot about me when I do.  I write because my story is not just mine all the time, sometimes they're other people's stories too.  Sometimes it's yours and maybe you just can't tell it, but I can and if you allow me to live it with you, we can tell together.  You don't have to love me or my story, but my words are real, and true, and mine and I hope that you at least respect my want to share them with you.  Maybe that's really what's behind my desire to be published someday, validation that there are people who appreciate that I choose to share my story.  And I choose not to self-publish, because anyone can do it, and again - maybe I seek validation that my story was worth the pains and the joys of living it long enough to retell.  This, writing, is my gift - one I want to share.

While I write of my journey and you read, again, I ask you to choose one of the three:  Love me, hate me or leave me be.  I know how to deal with all three of those, but I'm not sure I can figure me out and try to figure out what you want from me too.  Ya'll motherfuckers should know by now I can't multi-task.

Someone posed the questions: "Who do you think you are and what makes you think you could write a book anyone would want to read?", and this blog is my response.  So, yes, I prefer books over people, but people aren't always so bad.  One of the values of the anonymity of the internet is that people ask you questions they wouldn't normally ask you to your face, but if in turn you get to look inside yourself just a little bit deeper as a result, there's nothing wrong with that.  I welcome it.   

Thank you.

Yeah, I Still Stuff My Bra...

I had  the hardest time picking a shirt this morning.  It's been 1000 degrees lately so I wanted to wear something I'd be cool in while outside.  While it's 20 below in the office which is where I'll be for most of the day, walking outside on my lunch hour in a long sleeve shirt just will not do.  Also, the company is treating us to a baseball game tonight at the Knights Stadium and I don't know if I'll have time to get home and change. 

The shirt I picked is one in which I need to wear a strapless bra under it.  If you don't know already, I have a hard enough time finding enough breast to fill a bra with straps, so a strapless bra is an extreme pain in the ass.  Unless I buy it super small, most times the elastic in the bra is simply not enough to hold it up and it ends up sliding down throughout the day and I gotta stay on a vigilant nipple watch. 

Yep, that's what boobs are for - to hold your bra in place. 

Shut up. 

I have some pads that I removed from previous bras that weren't up to the task of boosting/padding these babies sufficiently, so today, I admit, I have stuffed my strapless bra - double layers. 

I would say "Don't judge me!", but there's really no need.  I know some of you have enough cleavage that you've never felt the need to self-enhance, but I also know that some of you are just. like. me.  Padded. 

Judging by the picture I'm looking like a comfortable C cup (alright, alright, C-) right now rather than a B-.  But understand, now I'm no longer just on nipple watch, I'm also constantly checking to make sure my pads don't fall out.  Help a sista out.  If you see a breast that looks lower or higher than the other, misshapen, or just downright odd, pull me to the side and let me know so I can re-adjust or replace.  And if you see a bra pad laying on the floor by my cubicle and I'm not around, just pick it up and put it in my inbox.  

Us girls, we gotta stick together. 

 

Shut Up Usher Raymond!

Lyrics:  Do I remind you of the pain that he put you through?  Is that the reason I'm to blame before I do it?
Is it because he treated you badly?  I always stand accused.  Protecting yourself from somebody else, I'm not whose hurting you.  And it's killing me knowing you compare me to him, always guilty before the sin.  I can't win, I can't win.  I'll do anything to prove I love you but I refuse to pay for something I didn't do.  I love you girl, but I refuse to stay,  paying for his mistakes.





Shut up, Usher Raymond!

On some levels, with some women he may have a valid point.  There are a lot of women who don't know how to recover from past relationship hurts.  As a result, all the hurt from the sins of the previous boyfriend is visited upon the next - whether new guy deserves it or not.  She may not realize that's what she's doing for years, until after she's (as my grandma would have put it) run him off.  Some man (or men) really hurt her and up until her epiphany, she's living that pain out loud.

I admit, I was "her" at some point.  I was hard on a man.  When I left the kids father, I didn't trust men and I'd always find myself thinking of various creative and fun ways to "accidentally" remove their reproductive organs without getting in trouble.  I developed a mental and (I must confess) a physical kick-your-ass attitude because I was determined no man would ever put his hands on me again.  Ask the next ex who chipped his tooth by breaking my laptop with his face.. he won't ever touch another woman in the wrong way without remembering the lisp and that Toshiba imprint across his forehead.  To this day, you still can't physically back me into a corner.  I. Will. Fuck. You. Up.

Learning how to let go of being wronged isn't any kind of easy, but it can be done.   Eventually, I came to realize that every man I met was not my ex incarnate, and it wasn't fair to them or me that we never had a clean shot at making each other happy.   I know of at least two who would have given me the world but I wouldn't allow them to because I was still angry.  While at one point I wished I could go back and try again, I understood that those relationships were meant to play out the way they did - so I could learn. 

I learned some things, you should too.

What I need for those who live by Usher's "His Mistakes" mantra to learn is that a lot of men aren't paying for another man's mistakes, they're making and paying for their own!  You can't be a complete shithead and then say, "Just because your ex was a certain way, doesn't mean I am.  Don't make me pay for his mistakes."

Durrrr.  The fact that you just did the same thing that he used to do and that's why you're both now ex-boyfriends is simply an unfortunate coincidence.  

So, shut up Usher Raymond!

No, don't shut up just yet.  Write me some pretty lyrics and croon this:  Tell all your boys to stop leaving a wealth of hurt and broken women in their wake and you won't have to worry about catching flack for something the last guy did.  Don't be an asshole, then you can be accountable for your mistakes alone and not have to worry about the last guy.  If you know she's been through some things, try being understanding instead of quick to say, "I'm not him!"  And lastly, if you aren't him, quit acting like him and there will be no confusion.

Most of us out here are trying to live, let live and be happy.  Trust me, we don't want you to be like the last guy.

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Ash, Poison Ivy and Just Plain Ugly...

I'm not a big fan of public transportation, but this was a weekend of firsts for me so I decided to try it.  Ash, Poison Ivy and just plain Ugly.  Those were three of several "conditions" I saw on my ride on the LYNX light rail train today.

The Ashy:  Ash is pretty common, so I wasn't surprised to see several ashy elbows and ankles.  I even had to check my own just to make sure, 'cause... you know, I have a history.  But, I was good.  I would have loaned them my lotion, 'cause I'm nice like that but nobody asked so I let 'em stay ashy. 

The Itchy:  There was one guy who had a wicked case of poison ivy.  It was really bad.  He was moving from seat to seat like he didn't know which one felt better to his butt.  I'm glad the rash generally isn't contagious to other people otherwise whomever sat in those seats behind him would be in serious trouble.  I went hiking yesterday at Crowder's Mountain - went the whole day without running into any poison ivy out in the woods.  I sure as shit wasn't trying to catch it from some random dude on a train.  Damn that.

Oooh, and the ugly?  I really don't think I need to say anymore on that.

The Inconsiderate.  There was a young kid that got on at one stop and he either had defective ear buds or he didn't have them plugged all the way into his electronical musical thingamajingy.  Clearly marked in several places on the train were warnings against loud music or listening to electronical musical thinagamajingys without earphones.   When he got on the train, he - of course - took the seat right behind me and treated me to a free Lil Wayne concert.  *whispers:  I've been saying for years that Lil Wayne has a speech impediment.  I stand by my original diagnosis.*

If you know me, you already know I was thinking about turning around and helping him read the signs.  Just being helpful, you know.  But the older I get, the more I realize I actually enjoy not getting beat up and I didn't have my taser.  So, I did nothing outside of shooting him mean looks through the eyeballs in the back of my head until he got off the train. 

The BAK's (Bad Ass Kids) - there were plenty.  I wanted to stick my foot out and trip several of them as they ran back and forth up the aisle.  The one that swore he was pole dancing was actually pretty good at it.  I thought: be all you can be kid, be all you can be.  If I'd had some monopoly money on me I'd have been sorely tempted to make it rain.

The People with Bicycles:  I hesitate to call them Cyclists because these were just random people with bicycles.  Anyway, this should probably go up there with inconsiderate, but instead of problem earbuds, these were problem ...umm, bicycles.   I was waiting on one of the unattended bicycles to roll down the aisle and crash into my bum knee.  Did you know that bicycles have wheels but whilst on trains they apparently shouldn't roll?  Or at least that's what the dumbass who carted the bike on the train, left it propped against two seats on the aisle and then took a seat two rows down must have thought.  If that bike had hit me, I do believe I would have had to kick his ass in the most premeditated fashion - coordinating the meeting of my foot and the back of his head right before the train doors opened at the next stop so I could be long gone before he came to. 

The Ambassador:  This guy was really weird, and I daresay boarded the train without a ticket... but that's just my assumption.  Anywho, he got on the train after I did, but at each stop he felt the need to heartily greet everyone who boarded.  It was freaky.

If one person came through the door:  "Hey!  How you doin'?"

When two people got on:  "Hey!  How you doin'?  Hey!  How you doin'?"

When three people boarded:  "Hey!  How you doin'?  Hey!  How you doin'?  Hey!  How you doin'?"

He greeted everyone who entered the train, not just those who boarded at his door, so sometimes it wasn't just "Hey!  How you doin'?", but "HEY, HOW YOU DOIN!!!!!!"

Did I already say it was freaky?  Really freaky.

I wonder what kind of stuff I'd see riding the train at night.  Better not go alone and better make sure I have the zapper!

p.s.  These things were kinda freaky too.  It's sculpture titled "Furrow".  Shoulda been titled "Cereal".

I've seen them from the road when driving up South Boulevard, but seeing them from the train makes you go What the Hell? all over again.  I bet those were some damn expensive cookie crisps.


Hope you enjoyed your weekend!

Reminisce on This!

One of my friends has been saying for a while now that it’s time to let go of people and things that are unhealthy, that hold no value for you or for what you’re trying to accomplish in life.

When I look to my past, all the faces that have fallen by the wayside on my journey to where I am today don’t really haunt me, but I do wonder at times.  Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if…  Sometimes I’m glad there was no if.  I don’t dwell on it, I keep it moving.  I think if those people were meant to be in my life today, they would be.

Facebook, however much we love to hate the fact that we love it,  is a great tool for finding and reconnecting with people from your past.  Remember that best friend from 5th grade that moved away and you cried for days because you didn’t know how you would face 6^th grade without them? 

Or that boyfriend you were in LOVE with – and I’m talking LOVE, not the silly internet love people express these days, or the ridiculous “I’m tired of being lonely, so I love you” phase people get in after two dates.  I mean LOVE, like your first love where you felt it with every bit of your heart, you got butterflies when you saw him in the hallway, you melted when he glanced your way and died when he held your hand.  You saved every note he ever wrote you, every card.  The matching t-shirts you wore when he took you to Carowinds are moth-eaten and suffering in a box in your mom’s attic.  How did Mary J. Blige put it?  “Reminisce on the love we had….”

Oh, the days.

Facebook  is also a great tool to snap your ass right back to reality.

That best friend for whom you bought the BFF necklace (remember the ones where the charm split in half and you could give the other half to your bestie?) isn’t your best friend anymore.  You found them on Facebook and screamed Oh My God!!!  It’s My Bestie!!!  Then you sent them a friend request screaming, “Oh Em Geee!!!  I can’t believe I found you!  How have you been!?!? We have to catch up girl!”

Your former BFF accepts your request but never sends you that note in reply so that you could catch up.  Doesn’t say a word.  A couple of months go by, still nothing.  You feel kinda let down.  Why isn’t she as happy to see me as I am her?  You wonder if you were ever really best friends, or if you were simply more of a BFF to her than she was to you.  Or you wonder if that person just had more impact on your life than you did on theirs.  Really, that’s some shit that can get depressing if you dwell on it.

That boyfriend that you thought was soooooo fine back then, mullet and all, accepts your friend request and you can finally see the rest of his photo albums and his wall.  All you can think is WOW.  Dude, you broke up with me because I had a Jheri Curl and caught the chicken pox and scarred.  I was so hurt when you started dating that light skinned chick with the perfect face and the long hair after telling me that she looked better than me.  Well, mofo, apparently now the joke is on YOU!  What in the sam hell happened to YOUR face?  Looks like somebody (maybe the light skinned chick with the long hair that turned out to be bat-shit-loony) beat you with a sock full of fish tank gravel. 

Thank you Lord for the pox you once placed upon me.  I now understand that was a blessing. 

Amen.   

When I look at my today, there are many, many people I have allowed space in my life and haven’t yet figured out why.  Who are you again?  Why are you in my space, in my place, and yes – in my face?  I think it's important to ask yourself those questions.  There's so much yadda about people and their baggage from the past.  Do you ever stop to think about the baggage you're collecting in your today?

When I look to my future, I see certain people in it.  I recognize that certain people aren’t.  I’m taking my friends advice and letting some people go.  And I’m pretty sure that those people I can’t envision in my future are going to or have already let me go too.   

You know what?  That’s ok. 

Let ‘em go and continue on with life.  Let me go and continue on with yours.  Reminisce on those people and things that bring you good feelings when you think about them today.  No need to reminisce on what never really was reminisce-worthy, right?  

People Watching...

Does anyone people-watch, as I do?  And, no I'm not talking about stalking folks, thanks.

People watching.  Observing folks and their mannerisms, habits, the way they speak, the things they say, their overall demeanor. 

I remember exactly when I started people watching.  I was an Intern at a major (now defunct) Accounting firm in downtown Charlotte.  Every day at lunch, I'd go find something to eat, find somewhere to sit and then watch all the crazy go by.  As someone who much preferred the company of a book before the company of a person, being in the midst of all those people every day quickly turned from scary to fascinating.

Seeing how people relate to each other, trying to figure out if they're strangers or if they know each other, trying to piece together their "story" based on reactions and interactions.  Listening for accents, slang, word selection, inflection... Fascinating.  

Glancing at faces, dimples, cleft chins, chubby cheeks, stenciled eyebrows, nose rings, nail polish, jewelry, shoes, cleavage, short skirts, baggy pants, hats too big for people's heads, hats with tags still on 'em...  Fascinating.

All of these people, so perfectly different from one another, yet all perfectly made for whatever their purpose in life is...  Fascinating. 

You don't have to be in the city to people watch, you can do that anywhere, and these days I find myself people watching no matter where I am.   Back then I people watched out of boredom and for comedic purposes.  Now, I watch other people to try and learn a little more about me. 

Do you learn anything about yourself when you people watch, as I do?  Sometimes I'll see or hear somebody, doing or saying something crazy, and I'll shake my head and mumble...  "They oughta be ashamed..."  Then, just as quickly, I'll think, have I ever acted like that? 

More often than not I find myself answering in the affirmative.

Once I overheard someone having a loud, inappropriate conversation in the workplace.  I grumbled, "Hmph, they know they need to go outside with that.  This is not the place..."  Then just as quickly, I had to check myself.  Have I ever acted like that?  Sho' nuff.  I recalled a time (unfortunately, recently), where I had the beginnings of a loud, inappropriate conversation over the phone at my desk.  Once I realized I was loud, I got up and walked out into the hallway, but by then nosy ears were already perked and absorbing more of my business than I wanted.  For the people watchers in the office, I was the crazy walking by that day.  I resolved to never, ever do that again. 

Often I overhear people, and it seems to be the same ones all the time, complaining loudly about something or another.  Even on a great day for everybody all around, some people find something to complain about.  And then, there I go.  "Hmmph, I wish they would stop complaining 'bout everything everyday.  Good grief, can't they just be thankful, for something?  Anything?  Nobody wants to hear a complaining person day after day after day."  Then, just as quickly... Wait, do I do that?  I can recall several occasions in which nothing that came out of my mouth that day was positive.   I don't want to be that person, so I won't anymore.   This past week, it hit me unexpectedly that I am more blessed than I ever thought I would be, and I just haven't been thankful enough.  I've resolved to do better than that going forward. 

People watching.  Now it's more than poking fun at someone with a crazy outfit on or busted, crusty toes, it's also a time for reflection and introspection.  I watch people and realize that, hey, I really don't have it so bad and I need to be a little more appreciative.  I need to carry myself like I'm blessed and happy to be, not like I don't appreciate the opportunity to do one more day of living. 

To identify behaviors that I dislike in other people and then realize I've been guilty of exhibiting the same is more than a little humbling.  

I welcome that though, keeps my head from ballooning out of control and my feet firmly on the ground.  My head is already quite sizable as it is. ;~)

Anyway, I woke up kinda early and felt the irrepressible need to ramble.  Enjoy your day!