Love No Limit

Yesterday was a day filled with...I don't know what to say? Happiness, sadness, grief, pain, and peace.

I went to see this apartment in Hyde Park that was beautiful. My friend that wants me to move in with her is a leasing agent. First of all, earlier in the afternoon, Mr. Man had called me and told me that he was leaving the studio early - which of course I hadn't banked on. I told him I had a prior appointment and as soon as I wrapped up I would go to him as soon as possible. It didn't matter to me that it was a practically impossible plan, I just needed to see him. Not necessarily talk to him; but see him. So many things have been on my head and heart lately that I needed to know if there was anything left that made sense to me.

Anyway, I had a good old time in Hyde Park. My friend's office is beautiful and I am absolutely proud of her. She's wonderful and I support her a lot. But what annoyed me about yesterday was that I got there early so she could take me to see the apartment and go to Mr. Man. I ended up just sitting in the office for at least an hour and a half. Mind you- I'm starving! I ended up breaking Sabbath (which I wasn't even in the mental mode to keep to begin with) and ate at Boston Market. The reason things were taking so long was because she had a client (a real client, lol) who was borderline slow. Nah, that application was short, son was just slow. My friend apologized profusely but I knew it wasn't her fault. Finally, around 4ish(I got to her job at 1 something) slow son left and we went to the apartment.

Hardwood floors, skylight, 3rd floor, fireplace, granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, water and gas included, 3 br/2ba. Not too far from the bus stop or the train stop. So what's the problem? The real problem anyway?...

I'm not ready to move. While it registers with me that I need to move, I'm not emotionally, physically, or mentally prepared to move. I have to move when I'm ready to move. And I can't move the way things are right now. I can't leave on those terms. When we moved from our last apartment I was ready to move. Too many niggas being niggas (peeing in the hallway, drugs stashed in clothes for goodwill, food wrappers left all over, doors never being locked) all sorts of things that I (or my family) didn't need to be around. But most importantly I know full well that my moving now would be deeply selfish. My brothers aren't nowhere near where I need them to be as far as getting employed, at least. And regardless of my mom not seeing eye to eye, I would never never never leave them like that. If that's the case, I could've told Mr. Man to kick his roomate out and I would have just moved in with him half a year ago when he asked me to.

The other caveat to that is I don't know how interested I am in moving with someone. No matter how fantastic my friend is - and she is fantastic. I love her to pieces. But, seeing Mr. Man yesterday - Idk...for the first time in days my heart felt full. I didn't feel anxious about anything. I remarked to him as we were waiting for the train to take me home that it was the first time in days that I felt right. I want to come home to him. I love him. And it's the little things he does that let me knows its mutual. Like how he'll go out of his way to supply me with Naked Juice and Ben & Jerry's no matter how expensive (and unnecessary) he thinks it is. It makes me happy so he does it. I kept thinking about how my life is with him - it's amazing. I thought of my life without him. It might make my home life more easy - my family would be relieved. But I would be a mess, if I didn't have him.

I thought, when we were laying in his bed, had just finished the strawberries, and his eyes were closed and I looked at him, and the music was playing, and the stars were on the ceiling (small sidebar: one night I was not hardly thinking about sex. And he gets on my back since I was on my belly and whispers to me "Come on babe, I'll bring the stars out tonight just for you. We can make love under the stars". So OF COURSE - I look at him like what the hell are you talking about? He goes to his closet and takes out a mobile that he must have used for his daugter in her younger years that emits stars onto walls and ceilings - and voila. There were stars on the ceiling and walls, lol. I laughed my ass off that night, but I also thought that was just about the sweetest thing ever.)I thought to myself last night that the moment was just perfect. Didn't care too much about what the next day would bring, didn't care too much about what the next hour would bring. Didn't care about what yesterday was. All that mattered was that moment.

We have so much to do together, and its important to me to be as focused as possible. I can't always live so much trying to make sure everybody but me is okay. That is what happened to me the past few days. Worried about my mom, worried about my friend, worried about the genuineness of my relationship (which was unnecessary). I have to make sure I'm okay first and doing that doesn't make me selfish.

Stormy Weather

My heart is full of aching right now. I haven't felt this mentally and physically unstable probably since my father got sick. Even when there was a point when Mr. Man and me didn't know where we were going and what to do with our feelings for each other I didn't have this achey feeling. Truthfully, I was positioning myself to not get got. I don't really remember how I managed to get through the achey pain though. I don't believe it's even still tied to me missing my father. I think the other night my mom really managed to break my heart. I don't know what to do with her. I don't know what to say to her. For all the criticism she gives me, she doesn't provide any solutions.

The other thing is, my friend has been on this campaign to get me to move in with her. I would be lying if I didn't feel some sense of pressure from that direction, I don't want to let her down. But moving out of a place with my mom to move in with someone else doesn't seem to be the ticket either, regardless of how good a friend she is, and how much I adore her. I mean, my friend may not appreciate the fact that I actually like to walk around practically naked. The only reason I stay dressed where I am is because I'm with family. But I stay in shorts, tank tops and flip flops. And of course at Mr. Man's even less. She says there are no rules but, come on - moving in with someone else means then I'd have to be subjected to her s.o. just like she'd have to be subjected to mine and a chick like me is at the point where I don't want to be subject to nobody's shit but my own. I'm slowly getting on some real selfish shit. I want my own space. I want my own kitchen. I want my own washer and dryer. I want to walk around my house butt ass naked when I get good and gosh darn ready.

Obviously, if I were to move in with anyone it would be Mr. Man. But I have to put that in perspective, too. Is that because I want to see him when I get ready, or because I'm genuinely interested in going to that next level with him? Because it is a next level, short of marriage. It's really the only way for us to go. Either we get married or we move in or we move in or we get married, but that's all that's left.

But lately, I've been feeling like maybe I've been foolish about that. If we move in umarried - I'm playing the part of "wife" sans the title. And that's not how I imagined things for me. I understand what's right for some people isn't right for all people. I'm not a big person on marriage, I don't think. It's not like I see people living together unmarried and judge. I don't think a person necessarily has to be married to make a serious commitment. Part of the reason of what made my dad's situation so bogus is because my mom (not being legally married to him, and Illinois not recognizing common law marriage, only 13 states do) really wasn't entitled to anything (even if he had insurance and that sort of thing worked out.) My parents were together 25, 26 years. Mr. Man and I have taken vows together. What is being married if you don't take vows before the Lord? (At least, this is our reasoning - strengthen ourselves and our union before inviting others in.) But I don't know how much of my thinking regarding my moving in with Mr. Man is my thinking or my mom's thinking.

I just keep trying to think of my life without him. I'm not going to say I can't do this thing without him. I probably could. But I have no desire to. I want to be with him. I want to get married. I want us to have children. I want to be happy. I don't want everyone in my family to hate me when I do leave. I just want a little space and freedom to do me. If I mess up, then fine.

808's and Heartbreak on repeat. Kanye's emotion-tinged semin-drunken auto-tune rant seems to just meld with my emotions right now.

Black Girl Pain

If the weather of the past twenty four hours is indicative of how I feel; thunderstorms, floods, snow, and ice - then I'm not well.

Last night, I told Mr. Man I was really not doing well. More than everything that's wrong with me I'm coping with the fact that my father is not here anymore. Mr. Man asked if there was anything he could do, and of course he can't. He did volunteer to come see me last night at home after I got off of work. That could help. Mr. Man is good at diverting my attention. Besides, the Passover feast is approaching, and I'm trying to mentally get on board with that.

As well as with other things. Our anniversary is in two weeks, as well as his birthday. This should be a relatively happy time in my life. I have much to be grateful for. I am gainfully employed, and for the most part my job is secure (3 people would have to be fired before I get threatened!) And I am done with school. At this point I am just going to school to get my certifications to teach, which will start back up in the fall.

Lately I have not been feeling that good about things. Fast forward to last night. I told Mr. Man it should be no problem with him coming to my home. It would only be for a few hours. But I called my mom just to be on the safe side to ask if it would be okay for Mr. Man to come see me.

She said no. I asked why. She said because she was washing and cooking. I asked her what did that have to do with me. She said why was it so urgent that I saw him last night after spending two full days with him last weekend. I said because I wanted to. Then she told me to get a grip. Before getting disrespectful, I hung up.

Mr. Man called me back and I was in the rain waiting for the bus. It was raining cats and dogs. I felt like my mom was questioning my sanity and couldn't understand the issue with my request. I miss my dad and all I wanted to do was get home, possibly see Mr. Man. Of course, my previous issues were overshadowed by the fact that my mom was denying me this one simple thing. I told him he couldn't come over. And I could feel my eyes beginning to tear up but the last thing I wanted to do was let him hear me cry. I think that he's only seen me cry once. Yes, just once.

I told him I'd call when I got home. He said that he didn't have to come inside the house. We could just sit in the car. But that was a futile suggestion also. Of course when I got home, I was soaked from head to toe. The saving grace was that my coat has inside pockets or all of my stuff would have been fried - my PDA, my mp3 player, all of that. My mom was waiting for me. Told me to have a seat. Doesn't understand why last night was so different from another night. I told her I didn't understand why he couldn't come over. She said guests have to be out at 10. I said that he wasn't a guest. She said that the whole situation is bogus; that I brought him into our (correction: their) lives bogus. I said it really isn't about them. She said that's part of the problem, he's not just dating me, he's dating all of us. I said that wasn't true and absolutely nobody does that anymore. Then she said I'm clingy and I don't spend time with none of my other friends like that. She even couldn't understand why I was so busy with consuming myself with him. I shouldn't be so serious with someone at my age I was told. I got sick of talking and asked if he could come over or not. She said no, and I walked away. She says I need to move, and I don't disagree. But I disagree with the reason I'm moving. And I already know if I move, I'm bound to never hear the end of it. Because then I'll be known as the girl who moved to appease her boyfriend.

Mr. Man and I spoke again briefly before I went to bed. He talked, and I didn't have too much to say so I just listened. He tried really hard to be neutral. I love him for that. I know a lot of people would take advantage of the situation. But he hasn't. He did get concerned with my mental state as of late. I even admitted to him that I felt deterred. When he and I first first first spoke, almost a year and a half ago - I told him that he would soon find that I am not easily deterred. That's our catchphrase. So my admission that I felt deterred is what got him on a different plane. He said that if moving is what we need to do as a couple than that trumps the music, and that trumps him going to school. I told him that wasn't fair. We're a unit, we have to make decisions together that benefit the both of us. Luckily he didn't stay on the moving subject. And eventually I went to sleep. Anyway, all of the arguing and back and forth made me desperately tired. Tired both mentally and physically.

Of course, today, my mom wakes up like everything is cool. I normally am not one to hold a grudge. But right now my heart is heavy and just hurts too much. I really came to the conclusion that being with Mr. Man is one of the most beautiful and simple things in my life because he is beautiful and simple. If there wasn't anything going right for me, knowing that I have this good relationship with him means so much to me.

It's everything else I don't know too much about.

I'm No Diva

Beyonce is really sending these females off - I mean every chicken out here that thinks because she puts that "good good" (rolls eyes) out there on some dude (who probably isn't even worthy to begin with) should get a "ring on it". To follow up that pearl of wisdom we are now introduced to what else but paper chasin' and other general nonsense. Until Beyonce I had no clue that the term "hustla" was gender-specific. SMH. Reason nine hundred and fifty two why I don't entertain popular radio or music channels. I understand all songs don't have to be inspirational or motivational, but I definitley do recognize that I need so much more in the things that my ears and eyes are subjected to.

I have been in a weird mood lately. I haven't been crying but I've been awfully close. It hit me that it has been three months since my father has passed away. I know it's a morbid thought but I keep thinking of him in the ground so far away, his body cold. I don't believe in heaven. Maybe I would feel more comfortable or okay with his passing- if I did, but the way I understand things to happen in the end times, I just don't buy heaven. So to me, he is in the ground. At least when he was in the hospital I could go touch him, or hug him, or look at him, or shake him. Yes, shake. It was never fair. We were hurting so much on a daily basis. And sometimes all I could do was wonder if he could even hear what I was saying. So I would shake him out of anger. No response. Sometimes he'd blink, sometimes he wouldn't. I'm still angry. He should be here. And he isn't.

I'm angry at my brother Keith - who should be here too, but he isn't. He had no business leaving his house that night ten years ago.

And I'm angry at myself for being angry. And wanting to cry but not being able to because when I start I won't stop. And I'm angry because inside I'm a hypocrite and judgemental. I get angry with people who try to kill themselves. Like I very rarely feel remorse unless they're younger-way younger than me. I say to myself that they should be the ones underground and not MY loved ones. It's not fair.

I'm angry at the fact that I don't know why I'm second guessing my relationship. I have no reason to. This man feeds me grapes like I'm a queen-literally. Yet, I wonder if I am playing myself? I don't really know anyone in a happy and healthy relationship. Everyone seems to think he will break my heart at some point. I thought that I acknowledged that as a possibility early on, but obviously not really. I've just been loving openly, and freely, and honestly. And I hadn't listened to what anyone was saying because they aren't happy, or in a healthy relationship. And I'm angry at myself for considering moving in with him before we get married. We may never get married if I do that. Why should he marry me if we're doing everything that married people do? And I'm angry at myself for wanting a wedding. And even madder at myself for wanting a ring.

And I basically pretty much am not liking myself lately.

Every thing that hurts seems like it's hurting me deeper than usual.

And I don't really know why.

Doin' Da Butt

Doin' Da Butt is the first song I heard today and will probably remain in my sub-conscious for the remainder of the day.

At least I'll have something good to think about and crack myself up at work. After last week's work drama, all I wanted to do was get to the weekend. To freak my man. Not spend time with him. Not watch movies. Not go out to eat. But freak him because I needed to work some stuff out.

Should sex be a release for pent-up energy? No, it shouldn't. But because I don't know what gym I will be joining; sex will do, lol. So today when I'm aggravated I will relive the weekend's sexcapades that involved the mirror and smile like a Cheshire cat at the counter, lol. Everyone will be like "What's got her so happy" - bwa ha ha bastards, lol.

Now the seriousness in above comment is the fact I'm looking for a gym. Bally's screwed me. Trust me, I did pay off my contract in full, but talk about getting raped monthly. I was so glad when they announced bankruptcy. Joining a gym and getting out of the damn contract is more difficult than getting divorced! I'm really torn inside about it too. My brother goes to X-Port Fitness and loves it. For me the pros of the gym is basically it's open 24 hours a day and 7 days a week. Since I am an early morning person this would work out for me. But, I don't know if I want to join a gym that's specifically for women. Which is where Flirty Girl Fitness comes in. Flirty Girl Fitness is attractive because they have classes that are more fun. I want to work out but I don't want to feel like I'm working out. Now, if I could have working out could feel like sex, we'd be all good, lol. They tell me you have to work out long enough to sweat. Hello? Sex, of course I sweat. Y'all know what I'm saying. All of that lifting and running shit just isn't going to work for me. The other alternative I've been considering is taking martial arts classes. I could see myself getting into boxing for some reason. I love playing the boxing machine when I'm at Dave and Buster's, which is another activity I have noticed gets my heart rate up. The long and the short of it, I want to start working out. I believe wherever I go though, I'm going to spring for the extra money to get a personal trainer. I have some areas of focus and I'm sure having that extra push would help be stay focused.

Que Mas? Oh, I don't typically watch BET but this weekend they were showing reruns of this show called The Game. Tia Mowry is supposed to be the star of the show. I say supposed to be because her character (Melanie) is actually pretty whack. But I watch the show because of the couple Kelly and Jason (played by Hosea Chancez [sp]?) I wish I could find this one clip on youtube but I can't. Boo.

This was a nothing ass entry, but I'm allowed, okay?

Peace.

Oh, Mercy, Mercy, Me

2-21-65 is the date that Malcolm X was assassinated in the Audubon Ballroom in New York.

Standard history lessons polarize Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X as being extremely different, but even the most minute perusal of their ideologies prove different - they were far more alike than history would have one believe.




Anytime an individual is able to contextualize and publicly reveal that the true nature of the beast at the core of what troubles America IS America, their character is attacked, before their physical person is attacked. And all we're left with as students of history are soundbites and biased accounts of what occurred.

The point? As participants of a society going nowhere fast, I posit that we all have a primary responsibility to ourselves and our future children to look beyond popular opinion, look beyond what is spoon fed to us. It doesn't take much to go the extra step. The point is, the issues confronted by Malcolm X and Dr. King alike, still exist. This is why we must be ever so vigilant to take the extra step to expose the truth.

"In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act." - George Orwell

So If It's Artificial, Let It Be

Today was a sucky day at work that pretty much continued from yesterday which was a sucky day at work.

To make a long story short, I said something at lunch that I shouldn't have said about one of my student workers. We all know that hindsight is 20/20. I look back on the situation and realize that I shouldn't have made the comment regarding the young lady in question's behavior. But admitting that is what makes the following events somewhat arbitrary and mildly bizarre.

Basically, a breach of security occurred at work yesterday because one of my clerks allowed the student worker to log onto the records system. This has repercussions because basically, students could tamper with files, which is a big no-no. I expressed disbelief at the situation but decided it was a gross oversight and could be dealt with later. Until I told the student worker what was wrong with what she did, she replied that technically she could continue doing what I told her not to do.

I took issue with this greatly. I was disturbed that someone would just outrightly disobey me. So, trying to be proactive and nip it in the bud, I asked the clerk to change her password. Because I was going to a training off campus, I told my co-supervisor to issue the directive and tell the clerk I would explain when I got on campus. Of course when I did get on campus, I had a meeting with said clerk. We will call her StankGirl. StankGirl is not to be confused with HeffaGirl. StankGirl has pretty much been stank since she started working there. Her behavior confuses me because she never acted like that when she was working in the capacity of a student worker. I believe that she is following in the demeanor of HeffaGirl. Not good. I have never understood follower mentality - particularly at the workplace. I want to ask StankGirl if HeffaGirl is going to pay her carnote and rent if she gets fired? Because if you not paying no bills, I don't see how you can rationally have any say-so in my work life. Anyway, the meeting between StankGirl was not kept between myself and StankGirl. StankGirl called the student worker, basically made a big deal out of nothing, and of course the student worker came in thinking her job was in jeopardy because of what she "heard" was "said." While I respect the student worker for coming in and addressing the situation, I don't respect StankGirl for essentially leaving me ass out. After I asked StankGirl to change her password, to me, the situation was done. But I guess that wasn't enough for StankGirl.

I keep playing the situation over and over in my head. I learned a valuable lesson. Keep my mouth closed. Even the people you think are cool, 9 times out of 10 probably aren't. After I write this entry (woo-sah) I will be done with the issue. It is not easy being a supervisor. I knew that going in. I know it is not popular being supervisor, either. I don't do my job to be popular though. I do my job to provide students with an opportunity. I treat the students how I would want to be treated. I don't expect comendations for the work that I do, but it is nice to hear satisfaction from students once in a while. But what I can't tolerate is petty, immature drama. And I guess I mention it because of course, all of the people in the situation are Black. I have watched other ethnicities in the work place. They mind their business, keep their nose to the grindstone(or at least appear to be busy, damn.) But I guarantee you - a Black worker will act Black. For example, if you have NOTHING to do, why would you publicicze that you don't have shit to do? Why can't you just keep quiet in your cubicle? Why do you have to be loud and blatantly idle? These are things I have to deal with on the daily basis as a supervisor as I shake my head and ask why. On one hand I can say "Oh - I don't have to worry about it." And I guess I don't. But I do - these are little things that blow up to big things which would ultimately influence me in my performance.

I Deal With The Real

I was watching VH1 Jill Scott SoulStage the other day before work. I have always admired Jill Scott's body of work, her style...just the entire Jill Scott persona. She's a beautiful woman. I don't think she receives as much acclaim as she should. I believe this is because she doesn't look like Beyonce or Rhianna. But we all know her lyrics, her overall performance just blows them out of the water. Let's face it - when Beyonce starts popping out little camels, her career will be over. She can't act, and her lyrics reflect the same shit she was singing about at 15. Jill Scott will still be going strong. So here's some Jill Scott & The Roots for that ass this morning. Enjoy!



I am very anxious this morning. I'm going into work late because I have my doctor's appointment. I am going to ask for a prescription for birth control. I hope I don't have to have another pelvic exam since I just had one in November. Then that way I won't have to use any of my time I've been saving up when I go in late. I know that going on birth control is the best thing for me.

But I still feel so blah-ish. I do have a fear of doctors and hospitals. But I don't think that's exactly my problem right now. I believe I have been avoiding purchasing birth control because it solidifies that I'm having sex. I know I've been having sex. I just - well regardless of what I think or feel, I know for sure that I don't want to be pregnant. Me and Mr. Man had an extensive conversation about it. He was against it because he was concerned about the health cons. But I reassured him that the second time I took Plan B wasn't as bad as the first and I believe the only reason the first time was so bad was because I am an innate worrier. If my psyche is all jacked up then nothing good can ever come out of anything. We agreed that this is the best path because we don't want to be pressured to do anything sooner than later. Yes, we're getting married - yes, we're moving in together - and yes, I want to have his children. But I would like some time before all of that happens.

Yesterday my co-worker spilled the beans that her daughter got engaged. Of course I'm happy! I think at a time where people are so hesitant to make serious commitments marriage is a beautiful thing - given that the intendeds have counted the cost of the commitment in depth.

I had a long talk with my mom yesterday. I'm sick of being made to feel guilty about my relationship. I told her that. I told her that there is no him and them. I also said that this man is someone I'm trying to bring into my family. If we've done anything to offend - then I'm willing to admit we were wrong, but where do we need to go from here to be un-wrong? Sometimes, I have understood that parents need concessions to be made just like significant others do. I'm not saying I'm right, I'm not saying I'm wrong - but I am saying that whatever the barrier is, I'm willing to do whatever it takes to tear it down. I believe that's a lot more productive than "Well I love him, I'm not leaving him and if you don't like it then tough." The solution to my problems just can't be to move out. Granted, I will be moving out just because it's a practical progression in things to come. I was voicing my concerns to Elia, and that's all she could tell me "Well just move out." Uh no. My mother will still be disappointed. My mother will still think Mr. Man is a bum. As well, I'm not moving out until I get a couple stacks under me. At least somewhere in the realm of $5-6 thousand. So it would help my cause greatly to do what it takes to make people happy for the moment so I can do what I need to do on my end.

I'm gearing up to go back to school. My boss says I'm trying to avoid loans.

That's not it! Well not necessarily it, lol. I'm going back to get my classes to be certified to teach in a school now. I would love to start in the summer, but if I can't get everything together then defintiley, I should be ready for fall quarter. I kind of can't wait to go back into the classroom. Mr. Man is hoping to make his entrance in the classroom again. He's excited about going to school for his Bachelor degree. I am too. He mentioned something that made me uneasy. He commented on how when he gets his degree he'll have something to come to the table with. I told him that I have never pressured him to do anything like that. He was eluding to the bum status in my mother's eyes. I told him that that's nothing at all to be concerned with. And it's not. When I met Mr. Man, when we first started dating I knew the things that were going to make people (my mother in particular) question our involvement. He is older, he does have a child, and he hasn't finished his education. But it's not like he told me one thing, and then when we started dating he told me another. I always knew from jump what he was and what he wasn't. And for me there was never a reason to pump the brakes because of x, y, and z. We're just trying to align our lives together, because we've figured out that we didn't like where our lives were beforehand. I'm not saying I couldn't do this thing without him -I'm just saying that I don't want to.

There Can Be Only One

Somehow, in all my blogging, I forgot to mention that my identity was momentarily stolen.

Yes, some bitch ass out there was racking all sorts of random purchases on my credit card. Among the purchases were:

-Vista Print business cards (I think?)
-Netflix
-Proactiv

I stormed into Chase on Friday morning with a printout of my account summary and demanded to know what the hell was going on.

Of course they had to go through each charge and verify whether the charge was legitimate or not. Helloooo - have you looked at me? I don't need Proactiv to preserve my sexy! *rolls eyes* There can be only one me!

Thankfully, the customer service representative at Chase knows me, and was extremely patient with me at a time where I just wanted to indulge in being the typical (but justified!) angry Black woman. Most of the charges have been put back in my account, except the charges that were still pending. Apparently I have to go back to the bank tomorrow to dispute those charges. Going through this experience makes me want to mimic the old people, take my money out of all banks and just keep it under my bed. I understand this is not wholly practical, but you all have no idea how violated I felt with someone having all my information. The weird thing is, I haven't lost my bank card. My brother believes that someone was able to retrieve my web information from on-line. That is the only thing that makes sense - especially when I looked at the list of purchases that were made. Some of them were for like $1.92 at Google Tree and things like that I've never even heard of. They were teenagery type purchases.

I am still pretty up in the air about what to do about my money. Should I switch banks? I just don't know. Chase hasn't been too bad to me before. Well except for the fact that they're a bunch of capitalist bastards. I am considering joining the local credit union associated with the college. The only inconvenience is (of course) I would have virtually no ATM's. Whereas the best thing about Chase is they're virtually everywhere. Right now I'm concerned with filing my taxes. And I'm going to file my taxes even if I have to buy a Visa giftcard, put the money on that, and then file. I'm anxious because I need to make sure I have my refund before next month when I have Mr. Man's birthdaversary.

Yep. Birthdaversary.

Mr. Man's birthday and our anniversary fall on the same day. I already know (in theory) what kind of gifts I want to give him. I am very conflicted about one of the gifts. I'll start with the inexpensive gifts:

- a Queen-sized red, black, and green crocheted blanket. My coworker refused to have me pay her to make it. I only had to buy her the yarn. I want him to have something representative of our people. But more importantly, I want it to be one of the first things we have that can be passed down and around throughout our family.
- a Tupac Shakur hardcover book. This book is the bomb. It's like a real live Tupac scrapbook, and he is a HUGE Tupac fan. I want it for his coffee table.
- Silk pajamas and a coupon book. I know you're like "Big deal. Coupons and pj's." But you didn't ask "What kind of coupons?" lol. This is the nasty part of the present, lol. I'm still working out the particulars...but to make a long story short - they're sex coupons, lol. And the silk pajamas are just because the poor thing tries to get his Cliff Huxtable on all the time, lol.

Now those three gifts - are inexpensive but they have meaning. The big gift I wanted to get him was an I-Pod Nano. It boggles my mind that he's a musician and he has the world's worst MP3 player. Like every other day he's asking me for batteries, lol. Matter of fact I never kept batteries around until I met him. So I wanted to get him the I-Pod Nano. To ME, the price is reasonable - I mean altogether, the I-Pod would cost $201.60. I don't think that's too bad. Obviously I am being price conscious, lol - because I'm getting the Nano, not the freaking I-Pod Touch. Also, I keep telling myself that the gifts are for his birthday AND our anniversary.

As much as I try to rationalize the purchase, I still have a feeling we'll end up in a Lucy and Ricky disagreement. "Lucy, you got some 'splaining to do!" "But Rickkkyyyyy...I just wanted you to have something special..waaaahh." I'm still pretty undecided about the purchase.

I was irritated, agitated, frustrated, and missing Mr. Man something awful last night. There was no real reason for the -ateds. Well, there were. Coming off of my period I was really just holding in my desires to be with him until the weekend. So not having that release that I was expecting set me on edge a little bit. Not good, not good. On one hand I wanted to talk to him - on the other end I didn't, lol, because then I'd be reminded. I tried to keep myself as busy as possible, but it wasn't working. I didn't find my book Soledad Brother, or the book on the Black Panthers, or the book on Marx. I was disappointed. No sex. No Soledad Brother to stimulate my brain. No money since my accounts are frozen. Yeah, I was feeling pretty blah.

So, I did the only thing I've done habitually since I was 18. I called the only person I ever call when I don't know what to do with my life. It was 11:30PM and I had only talked to Mr. Man for 5 minutes. I called Chris.

He was awake. Did my best to sound as non-bothered as possible. It didn't work. He asked me what was going on. I felt super guilty. I turned the tables. Asked him why he was up so late on a Sunday night. And it was good that I did that because Chris had some things he had to get off of his chest. In between being sick, (he had pneumonia!) worrying about his family, and being lonely he's been dealing with a lot. I felt responsible to an extent.

Chris is one of my closest friends, and for a long time he was THE closest friend. But since I've been with Mr. Man, I haven't been as good a friend to him. I was thinking about this hard. Our friendship worked partially because I stayed in his ass, lol. I wasn't willing to let him let me fall to the wasteside. And I think he began to rely on that. Chris never did a good job with that, it was always my responsibility. So when Mr. Man came along - priorities shifted. I personally recognized that it wasn't fair to be with Mr. Man and still make Chris my number one go-to guy. I wasn't going to have that relationship - something goes wrong with Mr. Man I run to Chris, the one I used to love. Uh uh. Not me. I wasn't going to play those kinds of games.

So, even though I was all sorts of -ateds last night, I didn't necessarily broadcast them to Chris. By the end of the conversation, there was no real need to. Talking to Chris really made me feel good about my relationship. He was really giving me some props for the type of woman I've become, and how I'm balancing it all. That meant the world to me. Chris personally told me what Ericka had told me some weeks back. The affirmation felt good. And my -ateds melted away as I realized today is actually my 11 month anniversary. I was feeling bubbly and very much in love by the time I was done talking to Chris. He made me realize something that I knew already, but need a reminder of often: Life is too short to satisfy every damn body, and we should apperciate the things we have while we have it.

George On My Mind

I saw this movie starring Gary Dourdan last night. The movie is Black August. It's a biopic on the revolutionary George L. Jackson. I watched this movie last week too, and I kept squinting my eyes like who is this actor - why is he so familiar...why is he so sexy to me? Gary Dourdan was huge on CSI -but if you guys are like me you probably don't recognize him without his dreadlocks from... A Different World! lol. It's none other than Shazaa Zulu, resident revolutionary and soulmate of Black hippie Winnie Brooks! lol. I was cracking up when I googled him under images - a big light bulb went off like - A HA!

The movie is so-so. I will say since I am so conflicted with the flow of the movie (not necessarily Dourdan's portrayal) I am most definitely going to go pick up the book Soledad Brother today. I'm enclosing a trailer:



Valentine's Day has come and gone. Mr. Man and I don't celebrate it, lol. Last year, I asked him if he did, and he said he hadn't in some years, which didn't surprise me. In a way, I was glad - because my typical Valentine's Day included spending it with my girls who insist on being miserable and single. I have been single many a Valentine's Day and never sat around like "Boo me, boo my life." But, I don't take that away from women who feel that way. Love is love. If I have the love of my family and friends then I'm not going to worry about being lonely on Valentine's Day. What I normally do is by roses for my co-workers, and something for my mom. This year I bought her a basket. I bought Ms. Man a basket too. That's my contribution to the commercial day. *smiles*

Yesterday was actually an extremely relaxing day. Coming off of my period gave me a pretty gnarly headache though. I stayed at home, in my bedroom. I talked to Mr. Man a few times, actually the first time we spoke I was pretty irritated. Mr. Man has the best intentions but sometimes has the worst follow-through. Anyway, last weekend I knew that he would be watching his daughter. That automatically means that our time together would be limited.

But me, always trying to be the diplomat says "You should get up with Matt next weekend. I'm not going anywhere."

*rolls eyes*

Matt's his music producer. I didn't expect him to actually get up with him. Me and my big mouth. lol. I expected him to be like "Well we just worked on the album this weekend I don't need to be in the studio two weekends in a row."

Wrong man. My fiance is a workaholic.

I do want him to hurry up, wrap up this album so he can start working on the next album. That's actually why on one level I do want him to get with Matt, work, and make that music I love to hear. On the other level though (my sentimental side) I want him to spend some time with me because our time together is extremely limited as it is. So when he called from Matt's place yesterday afternoon, I wasn't surprised, but put the fact that I wouldn't be seeing him with my post period headache and you have irritation.

I'm also annoyed with the situation with his daughter's mother. I don't say much on it because I understand that his hands are tied. But would it be so horrible to ask "What time are you bringing her over, and what time will you be picking her up?" so he and I could plan accordingly. But I also know if he starts asking his daughter's mother questions, she'll take it as an opportunity to have the upper hand and withold her from seeing him. I know, it's ridiculous, but she has actually done just that before. But just like there are deadbeat dads out there with zero interest of contributing anything meaningful to their children's lives, there are some women that feel justified in playing games. But rather than be (completely) annoyed by her overall immaturity, I'm just happy that he and his daughter get to be together (it was a long stretch of time when there was no contact - we've been together a year, it was close to 6 months they hadn't seen each other.) When he calls me he tries to act all paternal, and it's a joy to hear that other little voice on the end of the line: "Daddyyyy, I hungry! Daddyyyy I said I hungry now!"

Right now I'm cleaning out my closet to make room for the clothes I've bought recently. It seems as much as I give away to Salvation Army, I still find more to give. After I finish, I'm jumping in the shower, putting on my artsiest outfit and heading to the northside of Chicago to spend time in some old bookstores and boutiques. Even if I don't spend any money, I am fascinated by the people I see on the northside. I'm a people watcher. I make stories about the people I see in my head. In another life I was probably a writer. I could definitely see that! Peace.

My Girlfriends

Remember that show with Tracee Ellis Ross and Golden Marie Brooks, and two other women whose names I can't remember?

Girlfriends?!

Well, I don't have girlfriends. I have a few, but definitley don't have that tight, close-knit clique that was portrayed on the show.

I wonder from time to time if I'm missing out on a lot by not having them. I never think on it too long, because I know I'm blessed to have good friends around - regardless of their sex.

But yesterday Mr. Man told me that his mom wanted to be my friend.

Fiance say wha?

I guess I have to take this back to a few days ago. Ms. Man called my phone. She was looking for Mr. Man. The first time she ever did that I didn't know what to think. Partly because, the first time she called my phone coincided with the first time I performed oral sex on him. When the phone rings and its a mom - we stop whatever we're doing. So just imagine how AWKWARD that was. Yeah.

Of course, I was panicking because I thought that somehow she would equate my answering the phone after a couple thousand rings (finally!) as knowing that we were being Nasty Mc Freakies. Granted, that's exactly what was going on, but who really wants to appear to be a skank if they're trying to get in good with the family? Exactly.

But a few days ago Ms. Man called my phone looking for Mr. Man. I was out of my brain gone off of some Excedrin to relieve my cramps. I tried to engage with small talk, because obviously I don't want to be all like "No, he ain't here. Bye." I asked her how she was doing, what could I help her with (even though I knew before she asked she was looking for her son), asked her if she got over her cold. I wasn't trying to engage in small talk for brownie points, but because I actually was interested in her well-being. We did talk for a few moments, and I shared with her how I left work early because of my cramps. She commiserated with me, and before long, she hung up.

The next day, Mr. Man calls me at work all concerned about his mom. Apparently she spent the morning crying. She is extremely down on herself. I'm sure part of it has to do with the fact she lost her job (not her fault - she got laid off). But I know the majority of people identify their job with their self-worth. Also, I imagine how lonely she gets from time to time with her children fairly independent. I believe that, I understand these emotions on a woman to woman basis. And because of my understanding, that's why I ask Mr. Man to make sure he calls his mother. Not necessarily to ask "Are you okay?" but just to listen. But for some reason I have noticed that my reflection on Mr. Man's mom somehow makes me consider my actions towards my own mom. He confided in me that they really got to talking about some things, and one of her suggestions was to spend more time with me.

Me?!

She is looking for a gal pal to talk to, maybe go out to dinner with once in a while. He was telling his mom how he couldn't see how I wouldn't be up for the idea. Which is true to a certain extent. But the whole notion of seeking out friends spurred this entry. I don't seek friends out - I typically hold on to the ones I have as much as I can. Time, space, and circumstance are all contributing factors as to why sometimes the holds loosen. I feel very good that Mr. Man's mom feels that she can come to me as an adult outside of the girl who happens to be pursuing a relationship with her son.

Lemme Get Some Brain

My cell phone rings this mornnig, around seven fifteen.

I know the ringtone and smile.

"Goodmorning my King."

He clears his throat. He does that so I won't call him Weezy Jefferson. It's not my fault that's who he sounds like in the morning. "Goodmorning my Queen. How are you feeling this morning?" I reassure him the absolute worst of my period is behind me and that I feel supremely better hearing him baby me over the phone. When we first started dating he would call me Princess, until recognizing that actually his daughter is his Princess, and following along the lines of royalty that would make me Queen. And that is how he generally introduces me to his people or refers to me in converstaion.

He has today off from his soon to be extinct 9 to 5. We talk about contraception in relation to my period. I tell him I am dreading getting on the pill. I am dreading it. I am by no means am person who typically indulges in taking OTC medication. I try to be as natural as possible. I follow in the footseps of the way my parents raised me. Most households have rubbing alcohol for most ailments. I have apple cider vinegar, lol.

"What about plan A?"Again with your absti-no-sex remedy. We've tried this. It doesn't work for either of us. It's worked for at most - four days. It might have been shorter than that. We're not sex-a-holics people. On the contrary. Although, I'm pretty sure if given the opportunity we probably could be. But even in the beginning when we weren't having sex we were pretty much having sex. We were only saying we weren't as a means to preserve my sensitive psyche in relation to maintaining my virginity. He knew how important it was (for the both of us) so even though we weren't having sex, we were having sex.

I still love him dearly for that.

I told him that we could talk about his Plan A though, seeing as how pregnancy was no longer a factor. I asked what would we do then? He said we could indulge in "mind sex."

What's mind sex?
"You could massage my forehead."

I
Just
About
Died
Laughing!

I told him that was a serious departure from the typical male sentiment of "If she not gon' gimme some ass, lemme get some brain!" We still are pretty inconclusive about Plan A. I'm not going to lie. I'm the deciding factor. I know it too. I would miss being intimate with him. Not even necessarily the orgasmic aspect of it either. We talked about that too, because not too long ago, he asked while on top of me and he had obviously came -

"Did you come?"
No, I didn't.
"Were you close?"
Not even a little, lol.

He looked disappointed. And I hated that look. But I know I wasn't supposed to lie. I did explain to him (as I usually do) that I don't know what he thinks or knows about female sexuality. But coming, is not something I'm necessarily interested in every time we get together. I like us hanging around naked together. It's comforting in a way that I am not sure I can really explain. But he got where I was going with that and seemed okay. I resolved early on that it wasn't practical to expect to come each and everytime; especially going in knowing that isn't my sole objective. I think this is a healthier perspective because he won't feel like he's letting me down, and I won't feel like I'm being cheated out of something. I think we both deserve gold stars for just having the maturity to discuss things like this. Go us, lol.

I ask him what he plans to do with is day off.

"Work."

This is probably the reason why we mesh together so well. I can always count on him to be working on something involving the betterment of Black people. Whether it's studying ideologies, alternative movements, or his music, there is very rarely a moment when he isn't working. He's easily one of the smartest men I have had the pleasure of knowing in my entire lifetime. He works so much and is so dedicated to Black liberation, people at his job constantly ask him if he talks politics and "Black stuff"before sex. He responds -

"Actually, before. After. And during."

Of course there is some truth to that statement. That's the side of the relationship that people actually are really unaware of. I mean sure, we're caught up in each other. This much is unquestionable. But above our commitment to each other there's a call to service to commit ourselves and our talents towards bringing the people - Black people- a hell of a lot closer to the light. Things are getting worse. We live in a society where our President keeps saying that race doesn't matter. But everyday we are reminded that this is an ideal, not yet a fact. I wish that race didn't matter. But by saying it doesn't matter, we haven't automatically rid this nation of the ills that have plagued it since before its inception. It doesn't eradicate the wage gap and the education gap. It doesn't eradicate the military and prison industrial complex that exists to detain minorities. It doesn't eradicate police brutality. It just lulls the masses into a false sense of security. "Yes we can, we did." Now what? I just went on the way other side but, people need to and SHOULD question the conditions of your existence. I realize it is severely unrealistic to call people to just up and quit jobs and join up with the movement. BUT, we can all challenge each other to different levels of consciousness and awareness, thereby forcing the institutions that exist to deter the people lessen their grip finger by finger. I understand that revoltuion is imagined to be a short, quick, unreasonable push. Over before it starts so to speak. But I believe to sustain a movement for the people, by the people, we have to be prepared to steadily gain momentum, first by winning the minds and hearts of the people.

Man, I Feel Like A Woman

I left work early today.

Caught a ride with the co-worker I didn't like because he was leaving early too. I mean if I felt horrible enough to leave, why go and leave on CTA and pass up a perfectly good ride? He got me home in about thirty minutes. Had the heat in the car up high. I loved it. I just woke up from a nice cozy nap.It might be fifty two degrees to most of you Chicagoans. But to me on this day, it feels twenty two.

I got home, carefully took off my cap, and snatched off my very short Mary J. Blige-ish wig.

I feel the need to make a statement about me and my wigs before continuing with this entry.

I believe some women (and men) get caught up in wigs. I'm not bald. I have a headful of beautiful, nappy hair. I love the texture of it. Rather than cutting all of my hair off and starting fresh (I simply was not that bold) I've worn transition hairstyles for two years. These have included weaves, hair pieces, braids, and whatever else I felt like at the particular moment.

Because of my notoriety with changing my hair style so randomly, I have become accustomed to wearing whatever hairstyle I felt at the moment, whether it was mine or not. I typically only wear my Natural hair in the summer time because I have the flexibility to wash it more often and just go. I am no hairstylist - and I have zero patience with my own hair. It takes very little to get me very frustrated.

So why the transition to Natural hair? Because, relaxed hair, the entire "perming" process was not physically or mentally healthy to me. I didn't like going to the shop every two or four weeks. I didn't like the poor customer service I received from the majority of Black salons. I hated someone else telling me when to cut my hair. I hated scheduling an appointment but still having to wait six hours to get styled. To this day, the only woman I consistently allow in my head is my mother.

Why don't I wear my Natural hair outside of the summer time? As much as I love it, I don't love the maintenance of any hair, lol. Wearing wigs during the week gives me the ability to get up and go (since my hair is braided underneath) while wearing my hair out on the weekend allows me to touch it and play in it.

I have noticed that some women who have Natural hair feel this gives them the reason to posess some kind of superiority. (Note: I said some, not all.) As if by merely posessing Natural hair you have the right to claim a heightened sense of Blackness. I am in good company (Sister Assata Shakur says the same) when I say the following: a revolutionary woman sure can't be spotted in the crowd by their particular hairstyle. A sister sporting an Afro can be just as lost and counterrevolutionary as anyone else. Likewise a sister sporting a weave can be totally committed to the movement. Notions like these have to be put into perspective more frequently. I believe it would be better to get to the bottom of notions of beauty rather than assaulting a person's authenticy as being more Blacker or less Blacker based on their hairstyle. Nappy hair is as beautiful as relaxed hair. I don't want someone to tell me my naps are unruly anymore than a sister with a weave probably wants to be told her straight makes her less Black. This is a pet peeve of mine. It kills me to see us plagued by the same syndrome that ruled on the plantation.

Field nigger.
House nigger.
Dark skinned.
Light skinned.
Good hair.
Colored eyes.
Nappy hair.
Big nose.

I curled into bed with my Angela Davis book I am halfway done reading. They say she is a lesbian. I believe people say that when I say I am studying her as if to discredit her contributions (past and present) to the struggle.Am I supposed to say "Well she was on point about the crimes of capitalist America, the prison industrial complex, and feminism - but she lost me on that whole "lesbian" thing."(rolls eyes twice) I love her dearly just the same and would probably cry if I ever got the chance to meet her. Very few woman move me like this. Yes, I would cry.

Nevertheless, I feel good today.

Why do I feel good today?

I got my period. Cramps, oh wonderful cramps. I never thought you would come. I will not curse you today. I made a doctor's appointment just in case you guys didn't come. I told Mr. Man that the appointment was a natural precaution. I don't care if I took twenty pregnancy tests, if my period didn't come by Friday I was having myself turned in for a full examination. At least for the moment I can push the appointment back to next week to get on birth control, rather than take a pregnancy test this week. I hope, that I can see my regular doctor. I have the most wonderful doctor ever. She is so kind and gentle. And if you're looking in my vajay-jay this is an absolute must. I am always so surprised when she comes back up like "Done!" I always say "That's it? What's the trick?" lol. But besides that, she seems genuinely interested in me as a person.

I'm off to reserach birth control. While the shot seems to be the best choice, I believe I am too...fat, lol to get on the shot. Now ain't that some shit? lol.

Peace!

Just A Little Too Close To Home

Putting a face to the recession has never been difficult to me.

Then again, I am quick to point out to people when

-you're Black
-reside in Chicago
-have always been below/just above "poverty"

...it's always been a recession. These thoughts are off the top of my head so I have no statistics to back up what I have to say. But I have the mental images of burned out lots from the riots in the sixties which have yet to be replaced with homes or businesses. A large percentage of Black people I know rent their homes, rather than own them, and most likely they will die without having owned any property in their lifetime, a sure indicator of wealth that can be passed down throughout generations. It's always been difficult for Blacks (particularly Black men) to find work. I know this personally because for the better part of his adult life, my father was unemployed (with a degree) and my brother has been unemployed for the better part of two years.

Again the reality of the situation that this country faces becomes more personal when my fiance told me last week that it was a big "possibility" he would be unemployed at the end of February. Fiance say what? You have the nerve to tell me mid-pregnancy scare that you're going to be jobless at the end of this month? Sorry babe - typical Black woman response. Good thing I didn't utter it aloud. So glad I took that class in tact. And if you utter it's a possibility - that means it's going to happen with absolute certainty because you don't speak in "possibilities." You say this so I don't worry. I am a natural worrier, dear heart and have been since I foresaw the road we would attempt to travel together.

I tell him it's okay. We'll make it. That's what we have the reserves for. He does not know how much is in the reserves. I like it better that way. He's not the type of person that will ask for things. Regardless of how much money I have, he always offers to help me if I need it. I believe he feels obligated. If he isn't able to do something then he won't do it. This basic practicality drives me crazy about him, but it balances us out because I am the spender. But because I am the spender I do research purchases carefully, and when I do spend it's worth it. The only thing that I consider and absolute must and cannot stop are the monthly child support payments for his daughter. I have made a promise with the Lord that even if he is unemployed six months, his daughter will not know it. I don't typically intervene in that situation. It doesn't concern me at this point and time. How can I say that about someone I will marry? Simple. The rotation with which he interacts with his daughter is hardly consistent enough for me to meet her. And even if it were, I would feel extremely guilty in doing so since there time together is so limited. More importantly, he has a typical baby mama. Now, I only have his side(well his and his mom's side) of the story. Perhaps she feels justified in her actions. I am not quite sure. But for me to borrow trouble and try to put my foot down as the "woman" in his life is not me. And it's unnecessary. So at this point in time, this is not a situation that concerns me actively. But inactively, I let no child go without in my presence.

One time, my co-worker dropped me off at home, and his daughters were in the backseat, whom I adore. They adore me just as much. This particular night they were hungry. Real hungry. Now I could tell that my co-worker didn't have any money. He wasn't going to stop at Burger King. That particular day I didn't have any money either, but I had enough to go over on my debit card to get them dinner. They were so happy, and I was happy to do it. You see - I don't even half like my co-worker most of the time. He's a sell-out and a snitch. But his children have all of the potential in the world to not follow the way of their father. I will not let (and I don't believe he will either) Mr. Man's child go without based on this minor temporary situation. Too many things could go bad too fast.

Like everyone else now, he is looking for a job. Any job. Luckily, he is not one of those people who has attitude about what job they will and won't do. To each their own, but when I say attitude, you all know that even within the Black population, we have the nerve to be classist! Turn up our noses and say "Oh I would never date a janitor" or "Look at that hoopty he ridin' around in - I had to dump his broke ass". The problem with these statements? Even if he is a janitor he's employed! And just because he is a janitor now doesn't mean he always will be a janitor. (And so what if he will??) That hoopty he ridin' in? Well at least he's ridin'!

I am one of the few people (I believe) that has the fortune of being down and out for only a moment before considering the Lord's overarching divine presence. We are all struggling right now. But struggle is necessary to a certain extent. And anything we face in this lifetime can't be worse than what the Lord faced. Without struggle, I find that we are less likely to appreciate our successes, small or large.

I'm Here

I hate to sound like some televangelist - but the other day...well let's take this back two(three?) days. I was really wondering why I was even here. Not on some suicidal life-ending stuff. But on some existential "what is my life cause" type stuff. These are some of the things I have been dealing with lately:

Transitioning from clerk to supervisor (even though it's been months) at work is tricky. I know for a fact a few co-workers I actually used to go out and kick it with really don't like me anymore. It does bother me - why wouldn't it bother a person? But what bothers me is that they really aren't good workers. And if they don't do their job, then that's something else I have to do. So it's nothing personal at least on my end. Nevertheless, the balance is difficult. Just Friday I had to remind them that it's an office, not the after hours spot. I mean HeffaGirl just had music blasting from her I-Pod, carrying on a conversation loud enough for students to hear at the counter, and pretty much carrying on. I politely told her (and her "crew") that they needed to keep it down because they were too loud. They instantly got an attitude.

This is teaching me patience, as well as learning how to posture myself professionally. The other thing at work is that, sure I've gotten a nice raise for a supervisor. But I am still performing the jobs of at least one clerk - in layman's terms I'm doing the jobs of two people. It was really irritating me to the point where I didn't even want to speak to my boss. Eventually when work calmed down, we did discuss some off-campus supervisory training, as well as at least moving one job to another department. I did feel better knowing that is coming sooner than later.

Home life is actually better than it's been. I still miss my father something awful - I don't think I'll ever stop. Everyone believes going after a malpractice suit is within reason - it's just finding the time to do it and having the fortitude to see it through. I know for me, going through the suit isn't even about the damn money - it is more so about the other families that are still there at that horrible facility. Nobody should have to go through that.

Otherwise, there have been no huge disagreements or huge arguments. James works out at X-Port Fitness and we have actually been talking about working out together. Well not together together, but at least at the same gym, lol. I could (and should!)definitely start working out 3 times a week. I was thinking it would be better for me to get a personal trainer. I'm glad when things are a little less dramatic at the house. It just makes life easier.

The day Mr. Man and I had the Plan A conversation, I remember going to sleep and waking up extremely early. I didn't do anything. I was just thinking.

And that's when it hit me. Considering all of life's woes, and the small things that I unintentionally make big things, I know things could be worse.

But I'm still here. Tomorrow isn't promised to any of us (cliche, I know) but it's really true. Death calls various people at various times and you know what? The Lord keeps me in His care, and decided that He can still use me in some way on this earth. I'm still here.

This was the affirmation I chanted in the shower that morning. This was the affirmation that I chanted at work. When people come up to me and ask "How are you?" I respond "I'm here." The mere fact that I'm here verifies that I've got a reason to be here. This means that as long as my goals exist, the Lord will meet me halfway in accomplishing them. That means in all the world and all the people that the Lord called to rest - He chose to keep me.

Recognizing this got me moving. I became rejuvenated and got back in the Bible. I started reading The Purpose Driven Life. I'm on Day One. I'm also reading the Angela Davis autobiograpy and Betty Shabazz biography. The Bible is for practical knowledge and application, The Purpose Driven Life is to clarify why I'm doing what I'm doing, and Angela Davis and Betty Shabazz are some of the black heroines I draw absolute hope and inspiration from.

As long as I'm here I'm going to do the best I can to be the best damn me I can be.

Always Have Plan A and Plan B

Oh where, oh where has my period gone, oh where, oh where could it be?

On Sunday, the condom broke while Mr. Man and I were doing what we do best. I remember him saying "Oh, this feels so good" - which was my cue that he had finished. It was when I turned around and looked down that I realized why it "felt so good."

Sigh.

We went back and forth on whether or not he was inside. I'm pretty sure he was. There wasn't that much to talk about. The same thing happened about six weeks ago.

I hated every second of the episode. It was my first encounter with Plan B. The emergency contraceptive. Besides feeling extremely tired, I was wrought with angst. I can't get pregnant right now. I don't believe I'm ready to be a mother. But then who is? More than anything I've always been extremely stressed with the reactions I would get to such news; at work, in my family. It's just something I don't want to deal with in entirety. I wish I didn't have to worry so much about, but I can't. I'm human, and sometimes what people say (especially if I'm related to them) matters a whole lot to me.

Anyway, my January period was already late. So the fact that I would be having to make another trek to the local Walgreens to pick up another emergency contraceptive had me feeling really depressed. When I start feeling that way I try to keep it inside even though I shouldn't. The other night all I wanted to do was go see Mr. Man but I was hurting so bad I didn't think it was a good idea. Were my tears even reasonable? Put a pregnancy possibility on top of the fact that I miss my dad, on top of the fact that I was having wack ass web drama and you've got a cuckoo bananas woman on your hands.

Mr. Man and I did talk about what I was feeling. He suggested an alternative, until I feel better about things. His alternative was abstinence.

Favorite fiance say wha?

I thought about it. He and I not engaging in sexual activity until I felt better about the situation was a good suggestion. But it's not a realistic one. I know that pregnancy is a by-product of sex. I believe giving up sex (were that a decision we made) should be for something more than making me feel better internally. I've got to stop worrying so much about what other people want and at some point I've got to start living for me. I often feel like I'm 24 going on 60 sometimes. Take care of everyone at work, take care of everyone at home, take care of Mr. Man. I like taking care of people, but in taking care of everyone else I don't feel really well taken care of. I didn't make a final decision on abstinence. I feel that it wouldn't make sense to pledge abstinence when I might be pregnant, lol.

That wasn't really funny, but it was kind of funny.

As for now, I took the emergency contraceptive again. And I'm just kind of waiting for whatever. I've been talking to my ovaries internally. Something along the line of "Release! Release! Bleed!" please?

Okay, now that was funny, but in between praying, rubbing my stomach, and chanting, something has to happen. So far my period is approximately six days late.

I did take a pregnancy test before my period (I was expecting it January 31st). It was negative. That comforted me a little bit. But if I am late, and thus far I'm not pregnant - where oh where has my period gone, oh where oh where could it be?

Something New

I am no stranger to blogging.

I suppose you could call me a weather-torn refugee from the blog-land of Xanga. (I just noticed that I've been typing for a minute and my entry auto saved! I could get used to this!) Xanga was a great blog area for my early twenties. I don't think I can qualify to be grouped in the "early twenties" bracket any more.

Sigh. After all, I officially turn twenty-five ( 2-5) in July.
God-willing of course.

I have so much to say right now. I've felt that I had to be so guarded about what I wrote and who was reading it for so long I'm going through some things when it comes to freeing my mind and my emotions into writing. I guess, when I started blogging, I did it for me. But over time, I began to write moreso what I thought people wanted to read. Writing is extremely therapeutic for me and to have began to taper what I wrote for the consumption of petty minds...well let's just say I have plenty built up and in so I will be using this thing frequently.

There is so much about Blogger I'm still trying to figure out, but for now, this is my blog home. I'm happy to be here. Peace.