A Perfect Day

Perfect days don't happen too often. So I'm going to use my blog to dream for a second. I could use it , and I know you could too. So create your own fantasy . . .

I wake up naturally at 8:15am to the smell of turkey bacon, scrambled eggs, and biscuits. My husband brings the tray into the room wearing the black boxer briefs that I bought him last week. We chat about what each of us has to do that day and then take a hot shower together.

We kiss again at the door as I head towards my dark blue Audi and he towards his red Corvette. Before I get to work, I pick up a funny card and some Krispy Kremes for my coworkers. Library is buzzing with activity. I see some adults taking computer classes and others in the corner discussing last night's debate (softly, of course). As I make my way to my office, a child comes and hugs me and asks where the Black history books are located. I swing by the Children's section and pick up a few selections for him. On my desk, there are memos from my staff about supplies that they need and suggestions for programming. The director sent me a thank you note for tripling circulation at an urban library. My mother calls during lunch and tells me that she is ready for the marathon that she's been training for since they cured her Sarcoidosis. My best friend sent me video of herself in three dress options for her upcoming wedding in South Africa.

After I lock up the library building, my husband texts me to ask where I would like to eat dinner. We go to a restaurant that is not a chain and share our work days over a great meal. When I get home, I check my e-mail and find an encouraging note from my book editor which suggests that the last 50 pages that I submitted were fabulous. ("My characters are going in exciting and unexpected directions.")

My husband and I take a bath together with slow R&B playing in the background. We get out of the tub and cuddle in front of a movie before we head to the bedroom to make some passionate unselfish love.

Nailah, I'm Sorry

If my daughter reads this, I want you to know that any trouble you have with men is my fault. I'm pretty certain that I have handed down some very unfair genes. Like most Black women, it started with my never-there daddy. I didn't have a model for what my male relationships were supposed to be like. You watch movies and watch what happens to your mom and aunts, but I really don't think that's enough preparation. If I had a father, I would have known what male attention was supposed to feel like, instead of guessing poorly and feeling even worse. But that's the past and I couldn't do a damn thing about that. It's my present and future that worry me now. And that makes me worry about yours even more.

I hope your father is patient and loving towards me and you. And never says anything to me in front of you that would make you doubt yourself because you are beautiful. I haven't even met you yet, but I know that you are beautiful because your grandma has a beautiful heart. Unfortunately, I inherited the weakest part of that. I can see why Michele should leave her husband but I can't understand why I allow myself to be disrespected without as much as an apology.

I just want to be loved. That's it. Without conditions and that part when they start feeling like they're the prize and we aren't shit. I'm scared for what you might endure. Because you don't have to deal with that shit. You will have a mind and a heart and hopefully the confidence that your mother never found. Every time I thought I had it, I let men steal it. You won't do that. You can't do that. You are going to be something special at work and at home. You're going to find a business or a career that gives you joy. You are going to find a man who would never call you a bitch or tell you to get out of your home. I pray that you do because the life that I lead is not meant for my offspring. You are meant for greatness. And you're going to get there even if your mama doesn't. Don't let those days when you wish someone would hug you and never let you go make you accept less than what you're worth.

That need for love is a motherfucker. It makes you do, say, and think some things that are contradictory to your good damn sense. It makes you stand there and take bullet wounds that you don't even deserve. It makes you kneel in front of someone who is weaker because you want them to love you. It makes you believe everything they say even when they're lying. If you continue to feed this need to be loved by a man, it will burn your soul. I used to be happy and optimistic about my life. Now I'm just happy and optimistic about yours. Because you won't be like me. You'll be better and if he's not the best, then you won't have time for his ass.

So don't let your pride get taken away from you because the chances of getting it back are slim to none. Please remember that. Nothing and no one is more important than your self-worth. You can get another man, job, hobby, best friend- whatever! But there is only one you. And you are a glorious reflection of me at my strongest and you at your brightest.

I love you very much. And talk to me when you need me. I'll always be there.

Love,

Mom

Face to Face

This week, out of boredom, I joined the wonderful world of Facebook. I joined their biggest competitor, MySpace, for the same reason and eventually the boredom infected MySpace, too. So I expected that Facebook would be another temporary distraction for me. How many times can you see photographic evidence and read tell-all tales of the world's drunken philosophers and wannabe studs? I never thought that a social networking site would teach me about myself, my values, and my personal growth.

I had fun creating a page that represented me and my sweetie. We turned it into a bonding moment by discussing our likes and dislikes and favorite pictures of each other. It was a public declaration that we are in love and shacking up happily. As we assembled the photo album titled "Only the Real Ones," we contemplated which people in our lives were really friends and treated us as family. The list is short but fulfilling. These people made me realize why life was so special. I was not happy on the "take no prisoners" route that I had been on since grade school. Academic and professional success were my top priorities and my emotions and health suffered for it. When I accepted that I was meant to love and be loved no matter what my grades or my job titles were, life started for me. As my previous post suggests, I occasionally compare my previous life goals with my current path and old feelings of disappointment resurface. Then I have moments like waiting for my mother to come out of heart surgery that shake me back to reality.

I browsed through all of the existing Facebookers and found faces that I hadn't seen in years. I found former high school and college classmates and co-workers. The biggest joy came when I saw former Summerbridge students whom I taught when I was in high school and college and they were in middle school. They were taller than me (not a difficult achievement), had moved to other states, had babies, and were COLLEGE STUDENTS! It would be vain for me to think I had anything to do with their current success. However, it makes me proud to think that our little summer program planted a seed in these talented people that they could go to college and/or pursue their artistic interests, have hobbies and friends, and give back to their communities. We were walking examples of life's possibilities, and I don't think we understood that at the time. it didn't matter if we taught them how to conjugate verbs or not. We were there voluntarily with them and for them during our summer vacations.

I mentioned that I saw old classmates and that included classmates who I felt at the time went out of their way to make me feel worse than they felt about themselves. Time should heal old wounds and we are all adults now. So why does the same twinge of pain come when I see the picture of one person in particular? As aversion therapy, I invited this person as a "friend" and she accepted. That wasn't the hard part. The hard part was seeing her face on my page on a weekly basis and trying not to remember who I was back then . Lonely, scared, and unsure of myself. I'm happy that she is doing well professionally and personally and that her wolf pack (I mean clique) stayed in touch for so long. We are all living the lives that we are supposed to lead and those old insecurities serve as reminders of who I will never be again and how I will never let someone make me feel less than who I am. It gets easier to defend yourself against the haters as you get older. Those high school hyenas prepared me for the college cunts and the college cunts prepared me for the workplace whores and I'm sure that the workplace whores are preparing me for the retirement rats.

If This World Were Mine

Summer has always been my favorite season. I love feeling the warmth from the sunshine on my face. Skin cancer be damned but I am happier with the sun beating down on my cheeks. I love having more daylight because I feel like I have more time to do what I love. Summer tube tops are so much better than those damn sweaters and tights! I'm free to move and I can rip off my clothes without shame when I start sweating and feel the breeze. I can prance around and eat italian icees until I get sick. All of my favorite memories happened in the summer. I remember parking the car at a red light and dancing around it in traffic to "Candy Rain." Getting cherry slushees from the corner store on Howard Ave. was the shit! Playing Foosball at the Boys & Girls Club and beating all them punk ass boys :) I'm looking forward to this summer already. Every time it gets above 70 degrees, I pray that this is the day when I can throw all of those sweaters in the trunk and pull out my little dresses. When the weather is beautiful, I'm happy to be alive, and I remember my childhood as something beautiful. The bad memories evaporate in the sunshine.

You Make Me Sick!

Yes, I am very proud of what you have accomplished despite what others probably expected to happen to you. I knew you could do it!! You are the most creative person I know! You inspire me, girly.

You will find out exactly how moody I can be by reading this blog. I was pissed and defeated during my previous entry, and I guarantee that there will be more days like that. I know that things will improve as I fix my own life step by step as well. (And these steps are in no particular order).

Step One has already started. I have TWO interviews this week. I'm reading more and writing more as well as evidenced by this blog. I'm starting with small writing goals, but things are improving. One of my other girlfriends, who happens to be a bomb-ass hairdresser, just got a job offer w/ a signing bonus, met a man, and started house hunting in the span of a few weeks.

Step Two is getting the relationship where it should be and I think we are working on that a little better than usual too. We had a candid, honest discussion in the wee hours of the night. That is our time b/c the rest of the world is blocked out and it's just us and God, in our bed, being open and intimate-- with our clothes on :) (BTW, Mary J. has a song called "Ultimate Relationship (A.M.)" on a previous cd that you should hear.)

Step Three is getting myself in emotional and physical shape and that's looking up as well. Those walks that I take do wonders for both aspects of this step. Diet needs work but I love food! We are going to get Hip Hop Abs and dance around the house LOL.

Step Four is starting my family and I will continue to prepare financially, mentally, and physically for motherhood and wifeydom. Military life won't be easy, but I'm getting practice.

So everything is a go!


Positivity is contagious, and I promise to do my part to get you sick!

Well, with that being said...

I admit I do not feel that I am in the exact place that I thought I would been when I was nineteen years old but I also did not think I would be a mom at eighteen, or have two children now or work out of my home or love stuffed artichokes.  I think that is what life really is about all the unknown and the surprises!  I know I never figured that when I met Michael walking down the street that day in October of 1998 I never figured in 2008 I would be mothering his child all by myself but I am.  She also is probably one of the funniest little people I have ever met in my entire life and I can not imagine how I would spend my days if she was not there to entertain me.  Teen Pregnancy and single mom hood and all I am still achieving my goals just in a different manner.   I wanted to become a teacher so I am achieving it online.  I love to write so I blog and write for a couple of websites.  At the risk of sounding exactly like my grandmother, "when you get lemons make lemonade"!  

I think that we had a very nice Easter sitting on the phone and watching television!  Who cares if it was spent sitting on the couch and we only had a brief intermission while I was at my grandmother’s house eating myself silly.  I personally do not think I would want a huge circle of friends like our coveted television show Girlfriends (should have got a send off).  I think I would have to slap one of those women eventually with what can be only be described as their witty slander.  I would only have to be referred to as ghetto, snobby or bitch once and it would be on!

I do not mind sitting on the phone listening to you crying or yelling my eardrums have gotten quite used to it actually!

 

JUST A SIDE NOTE...

Do you remember me telling you not to buy Brain Age 2?  Well you big dummy the reason was because I got it for you for Christmas now I am taking it back for something else.  Hurry up and visit!  Did you buy your ticket yet?

ANOTHER SIDE NOTE...

I am so smart that when I originally published this post nothing appeared.  It took me at least fifteen minutes to realize that when I transferred this from Microsoft Word to the blog that it was written in black and would not show up on a black background.  LOL!

 

All I Really Want . . .

Yes, I'm it . . . if it is a DAMN FOOL! I'm almost at the milestone of 30 years of age and my life looks nothing like I said it would when I was dreaming and making plans. I don't know where the years went but I want them back. I want to feel like I felt when I was 19, able to do the incredible and, if necessary, the impossible.

At this point, I'm supposed to have a stable career, a house, a hubby, and a child. I'm supposed to be a part of that sophisticated but hip, grown but not too damned old, creative but not freaky, upper-middle class Black socialite party in my favorite Morris Chestnut/Gabrielle Union movies. I want to organize events w/ my friends and open my own book store and pick up the kids from drama and dance clubs. I want to go to the gym with my girlfriends and ask them why the man that I love still refuses to put his pants in the hamper. I want to take trips to Caribbean destinations with my husband and come back home with a tan and sore legs. I want to decorate a house that we both worked hard to get and own other property that we rent to others who are starting their lives. I want to go to bed smiling every night because I did what I said I would do, and I would raise my kids to know that they could do the same thing.

Instead, I'm laying on the couch alone on Easter Sunday, watching the story of how other Black women made their dreams come true. My desire to become a writer has morphed into many safer avenues --- English teacher and currently urban librarian. Both satisfying for a period of time, but the ugly, unethical business side of these professions have ruined them for me. I'm not married yet (despite my pen name) because I've been in love with 2 men in my whole entire life and that television moment that I honestly thought was reserved for white women, hasn't happened with either one of them. Not yet anyway. No children yet either because I wanted the rest of my dreams to come true first so that little Nailah or Donovan (cute names, right?) would be happy from the beginning. No group of close girlfriends either because I don't trust people. My heart has been broken by men and women, old and young, relatives and play-relatives. BFF is the only one still standing!

I don't say it enough, but thanks for listening to me crying and yelling in your ear every other night. I am going to keep working towards the life that I want and I want you to do the same. I will try to be as supportive of you as you have been to me through my greatest decisions and my most fucked up ones. What are your goals right now, mamacita?

Inaugural Blog

Since this was all my idea I have been assigned to write the very first blog entry. Quite the daunting task if you ask me. This entry sets the entire tone for our entire endeavor. What in the world do I write? I guess I will write about me. I am a single mom of two, yes two children . One is a teenager and the other is a toddler. They are both completely out of their minds and I would not have it any other way. I work out of my home writing, tutoring and teaching. The decision to try and write a collaborative blog came about because of this. My best freind is trying to become more disciplined in her writing and I figured what better way to stay inspired than to write to one another in a blog. In theory this should work!

Tag D your it!