Thursday, October 8, 2015

Romance, No-mance

I will admit it- romantic comedies/dramas have poisoned my mind and warped my perception of reality.
They did…and I let them. I ate that shit up like Thanksgiving dinner.
But I have to wonder, in a world of excess and posturing- has the art of a romantic gesture died?

I mean musicians brag about what they have But not how they treat their lady. Hell, they’ll brag about how they doing some other cats lady!
Women boast about all their man does for them while bragging about how they can keep him satisfied because their “pussy on fleek”. Yeah, I guess.

So…in 2015, what is considered a grand or even small romantic gesture?

*Where is Darius reworking a poem on the fly and calling it “A Blues for Nina”?
-Where is Dre writing “Will you go out with me (check) YES or NO?”
+Where is Mark, trekking out in the snow, with a new diary (even though he read about the unflattering things you wrote about him)?
=Where is Noah…and that beautiful dream house?
^Where is (ladies) Josie- putting herself out there, waiting on her love to come and grant her, her first kiss?

Now of course many of these are for theatrics. I understand that but a likeness could happen in real life. I’d like to believe they still happen. I have been on the receiving end of a grand gesture or two; and the giving end so I know the art hasn’t flatlined.
I just worry that kids these days won’t know anything about the art because they don’t see it anymore.

Just some random thoughts on this Thursday morning.

*Love Jones
-Brown Sugar
+Bridget Jones’ Diary
=The Notebook
^Never Been Kissed 

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Let's Take Dip

How do you get into a pool? 
Falling in love

I find that you could use how people get into a pool as an example of how people treat jumping into the deep end of the pool, head first like an Olympic diver. You have the "Cannonball"! Or the "step off". For some, these approaches works..uh for me not so much (but hey no judgement). I'm more of a sit on the side of the pool, dip my feet in the water and then slide (seductively) into the pool. No better, no worse but this approach works for me.

"See the walls I have up, are really more for your protection". I place them there because once I bring them down and you infiltrate my world and my heart- I have this crazy expectation of you not hurting me. I know right- it's crazy. 

You spend x amount of time, trying to get to know me (and I, you). We rap about life and our personal history. We share fears and desires and even recipes. I tell you about the time I peed on myself from laughing so hard...and you laugh. You tell me about the time your brother went to prison...and I shed a quiet tear and a word of encouragement. We develop a routine and with each new experience, another piece of my wall comes down. I also feel as though the wall that you placed up, is also breaking down. I let you know that, I would never intentionally hurt you. You assure me of the same. 

I'm in the pool. I didn't jump in but I made it in.
The water is all around me and I sink lower and lower. 
Almost completely submerged except my eyes haven't made it underwater- yet. 
I want them too. I want to let go and "drown" in your love but I don't. 
My entire body is there. My heart is saying "let go. Come on in, the water is fine" but my eyes...they refuse to go under. 

See my eyes know the truth (perhaps because of my brain) and I see trouble. 
My heart says let it go and but my eyes make me pay attention. They show me, what I need to see (damn).
Not today maybe not even tomorrow but soon enough my heart will see- what my eyes saw. 
Then my heart will feel- what my eyes saw.
Then that wall, that you meticulously chipped away will be replaced-for your protection. 
Not mine. 

Then I will return to my seat, on the side of the pool, waiting for the right time to dip my foot in or maybe the next time- I'll do a cannonball.

Sunday, August 10, 2014

Starts with C ends in Y

I think I may have gotten too old to use the word "fuckin" (no "g")  as much as I do.
"Man that fuckin sucks". "Imma beat your fuckin ass". "This fuc'kin traffic is the worst!"
I think you get my point.
Honestly I think I use the word so much because I'm not doing it...take a minute (I'll wait).

Celibacy sucks- lol. I mean, well no it doesn't even do that huh? Celibacy is...hard.
Nope don't want to use that one either.

Celibacy can be very difficult. Yeah, difficult. I understand why we are supposed to wait till marriage before we engage in sexual activities. I understand why women, after the age thirty, start racing to the altar. Scientists believe that women hit their sexual peak in their mid to late thirties, so the sisters are tired of doing it for themselves and they want someone who will "love, honor, cherish" and occasionally give them an orgasm. For some strange reason men like to believe that when women get married they tire of having sex...they need to stop watching "Mad Men". Women love sex just as much as men, why do you think the "Fifty Shades" books are so popular? Those books aren't literature's about sex. Or Zane and her books? Or "Spartacus?" Or "Power?" I mean yeah there is a story, a plot and character development but dude- there is a bunch of sex too. And when you ain't getting none (or passing it out) it just Magnifies all of it. I mean Good Lord! I don't wanna feel like a prude but I am five episodes in on my -free weekend of Starz- "Power" marathon and I need a damn cigarette (all they have been doing is screwing and it is like torture).

I mean I have gone through "spells" before. I have had self imposed sabbaticals a time or two (or three or four) but the drought is real man. I mean they say, "if you don't use it, you'll surely lose it" and well...I don't wanna lose mine yall! I really don't wanna lose it- shoot not before I find me someone that wants it all the time (well at least 2-3 times a week and once on the weekend). Seriously though, celibacy does allow me to think with a clear mind it does... it just leaves a girl hella tense-lol.  And according to others, a little mean.

But them heffas don't know what they are talking about shiiiiiii I'm always nice. 

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

I am not my hair? But aren't I?

For many black women, you know what scratch that. I don't want this piece to get bogged down with race (even though I can only identify with a black woman because *come close* I am a black woman. I know right- shocker). 
So allow me to start over... 

For many Women, including myself- we can become overly attached to our hair. Our hair is our crowning glory. Its been with us all our lives and unless illness takes it from you, chances are you would never get rid of it. Oh you'll try different colors, different angles but you always bring it back. I know women who sported short, flattering dos for years and then their hair got longer and longer and longer and well you get my point. You tell a woman you are thinking - just thinking- about cutting your hair and the responses range from confusion, shock, upset, to them telling you not to do it. Its like you told them you were getting a divorce. 

But in actuality- isn't that what it is? I'm sure there are many women who would disagree and say "oh its just hair" but those are women who've already divorced their hair. Or weren't really in a "committed" relationship with their hair. They made the big chop so any aversion to a chop seems foreign to them. 
But for us others things are a bit different. 

If you want to know if a woman is going through something, look at the top of her head. All of her secrets lie in all those locks (or lack thereof). A ponytail, a wrap,twists, braids, fade, jerri curl (they are still out there)...all these styles tell a story. Some, a trapped in the 80's story, but a story nonetheless. 

India Arie had a song, "I am not my hair" but even she is rocking "hair" now. 
We give our hair so much power (return to my earlier statement about knowing if a woman is going through something). If we need to "cut someone out of our life"...we cut off our hair. We feel weighted down by something- we cut the weight off...from our hair. We get a fresh do...we feel like we are on the top of the world. 

So, what is it about our hair? I don't really have an answer but I will continue doing research via different hairstyles on this journey called life. And if I come up with an answer, I'll be sure to share. 

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Shut don't go up...

Ladies, Ladies, Ladies...

Ya know sometimes you just have to be quiet...don't say anything.
Or maybe I should say it so you really get my point- don't say nothing!

I know it's hard but sometimes silence speaks much louder than any words.
Have you ever heard the expressions, "silence is golden" or "silence is loud"?
They are true.

You don't always have to have the last word.
That extra "okay"...yeah keep that to yourself and save it for a rainy day.
That long "uh huuuh" you feel creeping out of your mouth- shut it down.
Trust me...I know it is very hard.
I mean the phrase is right there and it just wants to come out and say "yeah right" but don't do it.
Keep the thought to yourself (you already having a conversation in your mind anyway).

Here's the thing, typically nothing good comes from those extra ad-libs and comments.
You are more likely to cause yet another argument (or prolong the heated discussion you are already involved in).
Just go to your corner and save your energy.
Take a moment.
Breathe and think of better comebacks than "okay" and "uh huuuh" <--you are better than those!

This has been a TJ-PSA.


Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Loyalty, Schmalolaty...What does it really mean?

I’m lost…has “loyalty” become the new buzz word of 2014? YOLO- remember that?
I mean it’s everywhere. On Facebook, twitter, Instagram, and the top 10 charts. All of a sudden everyone seems very interested in the loyalty of those around them. Why now? You weren't concerned with it before? And What really defines loyalty?
Well according one of the hottest songs out right now…it’s staying with a broke n*gga. Even though the song clowns him because said hoe (I'm not sure if this when she becomes a hoe or was she always a hoe) leaves the underfinanced gentleman and takes up with another guy because he is in a better place financially. Thus translating to being a unloyal hoe.  
Ooooookay-lol. That is know this right?
Sooo if the chick upgrades you for someone with fatter pockets does that forever create a cycle on unloyalness?
Interesting. Does this translate to all relationships or just romantic because folks do this with jobs all the time. Trust me if the EEOC offers me a better job than my current employer...well Imma take my talents to the EEOC.
Here is a question, if the guy drops said chick for another chick with say, better “assets” does that make him an unloyal hoe?
Or how about this,  if you pursue a woman that you believe is a hoe, don’t you kind of set yourself up for the inevitable unloyal cycle?
See, I thought Snoop said some almost twenty years ago that “I don’t love these hoes” so why is a hoe’s unloyal/ anti-loyal behavior an issue? Or surprise for that matter.
If you don’t love a hoe, losing a hoe should be the equivalent of losing a bobby pin. Another one will appear out of nowhere when you need one (or least expect it) so losing one isn't going to be the end of the world. 
Back to this new buzz word “loyalty”, what makes a person loyal? A person that is there through thick and thin despite whatever is going in their life? *cue scene from “Love and Basketball”…”I had to make curfew!” Sometimes we expect a great deal from people not realizing that they too have shit going on in their lives and bailing you out for the umpteenth just not on their agenda right now. 
Sometimes being loyal, means leaving you alone. Meaning you and I both know what you are doing is stupid and I am tired of telling you the same thing over and over sooooo Imma let you do your thing. But know that I love you and I will always be there for you. I just can't support *insert whatever foolishness they are involved in*. Loyalty isn't about constantly agreeing with someone. A real loyal person will call you out on your shit. Loyalty doesn't have anything to do with how long you known a person either. There isn't some secret test. I guess you just know. Well, I figure by the end of the year "Loyalty" will see just how loyal folks are; because by then it'll be on to the next new phrase. It'll probably have something to do with whatever "hoes" ain't doing ("these hoes ain't cooking. these hoes ain't cleaning").

Thursday, April 10, 2014

Happy or Sad- it's your call

“Clap along, if you feel like a room without a roof”—Out the box. Limitless.
“Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth”— Being sad (even though is happens) sucks. A hot shower, cold shot and/or a smile.

As Benjamin Franklin once said “The Constitution only gives people the right to pursue happiness. You have to catch it yourself 

“Clap along, if you know what happiness is to you”—My family, framily, friends, love, laughter… 
“Clap along if you know that’s what you want to do” – I’m clapping!!!
Happiness doesn’t depend on any external conditions, it is governed by our mental attitude.” Dale Carnegie

Thirteen weeks ago…I had surgery to repair a torn ACL and inner and outer meniscus (that’s like three surgeries yo!).

About a week later I heard Pharrell’s “Happy” and burst into tears. I had just went to my first physical therapy appointment and I didn’t think I would be able to my knee back. I just sat there listening to this man talk to me about four weeks of this and then four weeks of that...and I was like “what did I just do to myself?” 
I mean, it hurt. It hurt like hell to stand up. It hurt to sit down. It was uncomfortable to lie down with my leg elevated. I hated my crutches.  I know, I know but hurt.

I hated feeling helpless and then I heard this song and he says “clap along ,if you know that’s what you want to do” and instead of clapping I cried. I cried because I really did want to be happy, I did. I cried because I thought I was strong enough to handle recovery. I cried because I realized I wasn’t the “Superwoman” I once was…I was just like everyone else-lol. I had a weakness (more than just Hostess Cupcakes). I also think I was crying because I was high all the time. I don’t know how people function like that. I mean I only had a small dose and I still had the “Dropsies”. But I digress.. 

Thirteen weeks doesn’t seem that long but in that time, I can squat (you can’t imagine how interesting it was for me to go to the bathroom), I’m no longer using those blasted crutches, I’m not longer in the hellacious brace, and I can ride the bike now (if you saw me on my first day, you would have wanted to give me a hug-and I would have gladly taken it)!

My stamina is increasing. I am lunging, squatting, stepping up, curling, bending…I am getting my happy back. And it all began with me.  See after I cried...I cried some more but then I realized why I was crying. I was scared. I was scared to fail (and fall-literally). I was scared that I would never be “Superwoman” again and once I realized all that, I took charge.  I took charge of my recovery. I took charge of my "happy"!

For starters I took my fat ass to the gym and decided to work “with” my therapy instead of working “against it” (meaning I did my homework-for all you slow people).
I am not where I want to be…but I’m damn sure not where I used to be.
Each day I get better and betterer.
For that I clap!
I clap, because I am happy! 

Where is my damn cape?!