Yup, impulse...

dudes cry and other crap...

Kathy Lee and Hoda weighed in this morning on men crying. Not that they are a credible source - not Kathy Lee anyway...her politics are screwed. Poor Hoda obviously was supposed to be a real journalist but took the cash instead - I have no hate for the choice - money is important, her platform is going to massive compared to mine :).

So with the John Bayner cry episode on 60 Minutes everyone is talking about it...men crying that is. They showed Clinton and Bush and others in power doing it - didn't seem  weak to me... And thus revealed my true queasiness with it. That dude was broke with no clear ambition and was turning 40 and owned nothing - now that isn't his goal in life mind you, he is intent on leaving the country to escape the strictures of the capitalistic ideology that retards our spiritutality, I think that's what he meant to say anyway.

So I say all that to say that he was a loser ANYWAY and thus the crying was simply the icing on top of a melting, mushy, fruit filled (not a gay reference, I hate fruit filling and therefore I am trying to convery my ick factor) pathmark cake with whipped topping...(the worse). Oddly though - - Miss Patty still likes him...*shrugs shoulders.

(Sheepish face)

Other crap.

How do you feel about the hard press? The 'you're fly, I'm fly, we should have babies someday' press? (Shaking my head knowingly, yup that move is hot) Hell yeah baby - that's what I'm talking about. No worries I've heard it before I'm not losing my head...yet.

(Rocking Erykah - Fall in Love with me (You're Funeral)) 

Erykah I wish I had voodoo you do. I just listen and wonder what I'd do with all that pussy power...hehehe (bookmark).

So I will let you get back to work...but I'm questioning whether to do the annual birthday post... aka I need to do, I should do, blah blah blah my future, blah blah. I think the multiple 'blahs' convey my feelings on it happening.

(hmm mmm Jaheim...'I gotta a job and a trainer' Jaheim - not 'harlem thug how'd you really get that escalade' Jaheim...."Gotta find my way back" is not good for the focus. You know what I mean... *side eye)

Gotta take it easy on 'em

I still have my 'niggas ain't shit' post written and saved.

My heart wasn't in it.

I'm newly single, dating and having a great fucking time.  I know now that women are crazy...but shit if these dudes don't have problems. pro.bl.ems.

One recent date, we're calling him BB or candles, had captured my attention. He was skinny, smart, a painter with beautiful hands (I have a bit of an obsession with man hands....healthy fingers *wink) and he works in the non-profit world. When I say 'captured my attention' I mean I kissed him on the second date (big moves for me *prude alert!) and lord Jesus - smh- skills people - no details though :).  Now I should have known something was wacky because when we first met at the Speakeasy. He was chatting and randomly we got on the subject of why all his girls become 'friends'[bitch FLAG awaving].  But I'm focused (on his lips) and love digging for buried treasure so I put that aside ( I mean, women have left good men on the showroom floor before - or so the myth goes) and kept it moving.

Date three? Obsession aside let's get to the meat...he spent a great deal of time talking about himself. Now, clue 1 you're in trouble with me? I have on my gentle voice (sticky sweet and alluring like that siren chick crashing ships) and I'm asking you how you felt about whatever you just revealed....that's my work voice. If my work voice is on it because I'm starting suspect that your ass is crazy...but your dumb ass is going to keep talking...

I asked 'candles' what did he like to do for fun. He replies[and this is where the fun is] he likes to pamper himself - get some candles, put on some Sade and take a bubble bath. (pause) a bubble bath.

It may sound like I'm being a frozen concrete bitch but as a feminist who rejects reified gender roles - but in my house you can't be a bitch. That is a horrible contradiction. Can we just look at it as a place where I need some growth??? Forgive me.  I suppose that I could have moved on from this quirk except that he already mentioned that he cries, that his last girlfriend dumped him because 'she needed to be with someone stronger than herself' and when she dumped him outside of his kids school - yes, he cried.

Now I have processed what it means to be a feminist and think this guy is a bitch. I have reconciled my contradiction by recognizing two things. The first is that the vagina [aka miss patty] decides who she is going to be happy with and, barring abuse; if she isn't happy, I'm not happy. Politics be dammed. The second realization I had is that I don't respect, what I identify as, weakness in either sex. It frustrates me and I avoid people who complain and don't stick shit out as a general rule. Everyone in my circle is a hard worker, a survivor, and committed to making 'it' happen. I don't see that in this guy. So I'm pulling out the instinct card to avoid getting placed in the judgemental bitch category - (chuckle) - hope that side shuffle worked.

But I had a good fucking time. I swear. Whose next!!!

( I already met him - but one on one date hasn't happened yet...fun tiimmmmmessss)

Dam, i'm fucked up. I got work to do.

                                           

I'm finally working on my statement of purpose for school. I can't fathom the emotional hesitancy that had me procrastinate this for so long.  The distractions I have employed to put it aside...obsessing over if 'he' is going to call, traveling to different states to 'work on it' with friends, attending lectures, retreats and information sessions instead of fucking sitting down and writing the bitch out. I knew I had reached a new low with that obsession of when 'dude' was going to call. I can like someone but obsessing is definitely not my steelo.

         "So what is really going on with you Ms. lady?" I had to ask myself, "If you're thinking about him what aren't you thinking about?"

silence.

Then way back in that dark corner of my mind that little trader tentatively mentioned in a quiet voice..."Your paper, your internship and your job" and I guess when that voice didn't met any resistance from me she slipped to the front and just started ticking them off her fingers:
         "You didn't process the information you got when you went to Virginia, you didn't take notes from the last information session, you didn't find out when the next m.s.w meeting was going to be this year, you never contacted that dude from NYU and asked him questions about that policy degree he has, you never put the information from the bread retreat into your notes for the office and for the paper, you haven't asked rice formally to write a reference for you and you still have checked with Dionne about getting a reference letter from D. Williams."

deep breath/sigh.

Is this what fear of success looks like? I still maintain that it is truly fear of failure - but whatever. It feel true and I don't need therapy to confirm that for me.

alright. back to work.

My family..wtf*

I always, smugly, shake my head in affirmation when people talk about how crazy their families are, the craziness of the holidays, and their dread at the prospect of being cooped up in a confined space for untold hours with their kin -- but I don't really identify with the sentiment. My family isn't fucked up - well Kim is...more on that later - we're ...quirky. I know now, intellectually, that my mother is a ...whats the name of the thingy....not a pack rat...a hoarder. Yeah, not as bad as the people on the show (which I watch with apprehension - it's so sad, really...sad) but more like I never pick anything up, or never hang anything up or never put that folded pile of laundry in the actual drawer...as a matter of fact, she most likely never got the laundry out of the dryer in the  first place.

I am prepared for this madness. I said intellectually. Emotionally somewhere in a small tiny dark room in my heart I'm still pissed, annoyed, embarrassed and angry.

Well these motherfuckers decided to ruin my dam thanksgiving.

About two weeks ago my nephew[son of aforemention Kim, also older sister of mine] ran away. That's what I'm calling it. He just..never came home one day. Yes, he is 21 BUT he is legally blind, has cerebral palsy, and one leg is shorter than the other. All you morbid people can laugh now - I probably would...my boss laughed when I told her about him. Fucked up right?

So he isn't independent in any sense of the word. He moved to his girlfriends aunts house to sleep on the couch -- for real. So he hated  wanted to get away from his mother so much that he and his blind girlfriend would rather sleep on a couch than wait and get assisted living for the blind. I have mentioned my opinions on my sister child rearing skills previously and to catch you up...my blind nephew who has cerebral palsy ran away to sleep on his girlfriend aunts couch. enough said? okay.

Short and sweet. I spend my dam thanksgiving cleaning my mothers back room so that my nephew could move in. After we went to the house and saw that this bitch was crazy, and ghetto, and crazy (did I mention the boyfriend from jail who was coming home in December? no? well...yeah) we moved his shit pronto.

Sigh. My family is crazy. When I go home to NYC I can leave it behind and BE who I choose. But going home is a bitch.

How 'for colored girls' fucked up my game....

On the train home today I was stuffed in a two seater with a large elderly lady. As she struggled to get up a large hand reached out and asked her if she needed help. She politely declined but I was drawn to the tall man in the puffy coat (shiny read -1) and the kind eyes.  As she exited, he sat down next to and pulled out an obviously dogeared book and begane reading, but not before he checked to see if I had enough room (+1million). I looked at him and thought..."but I met him on the train"....flashbacks--

Oh hell to the naw!

Dam u tyler perry!!!!

Ima read my dam book.

Is it me?

Hello there.

How are you?

Great great. I'm well too. Things are good with you? Great great to hear.

How well do you think people know you? The real you? 1, 2, 20? I hate when people think they know me. I always thought my entire life that I was completely transparent. You wanted to know what I thought...or was thinking... you know I would tell you whether I meant to share or not..(filter aquired).  I've been realizing that I'm not as open as I thought. I tend to share with very few people, I 'talk' with lots of people...but share? Not too many. I've been going out of my way to share lately and I always think it's funny when people are surprised when I share things I'm not sure of or things like that. You dummy(!), just because people (1) don't spill their weaknesses all over the blogospere doesn't mean they aren't there and (2) just because a person doesn't fall apart every time something goes wrong doesn't mean they don't hurt. I know you feel the same way....

Well this chick the other day says to me. "I don't think you're happy." You know she got the 'bitch please' eyebrow and silence (my new over effective filter - trying to get rid of it). There is NOTHING I hate more than people trying to 'read' you and getting it WRONG. You. Don't. Know. Me. So uhm, have some humility and ask me before you assigned some shit to me. 

I will respond though and remark that I am not Unhappy. I am overwhelmed. over-frickin-whelmed. I have two months to make extremely challenging life changing decisions and none of them easy. I am applying for a new job with a very prestigious company..and the letters I have to write must be 'great' not just good and grammatically correct but appealing and attention grabbing -- I used to be a horrible writer....now I'm...less horrible. I have to take the GRE by February...have you seen the math section??? Good god save me. I said I would never look at that math again after statistics-- math is one of those skills that I have to work at...it doesn't come naturally to be me like chemistry or biology... I have to apply to 7, read 7, different schools (a few ivies) in different parts of the city and northeast...and they aren't the same programs....

So I'm not happy I have to drop 1200 bucks on a kaplan class. I'm not happy I have to explain my goals in life when they keep changing. I'm not happy that I want to do everything - don't pigeon hole me! I'm not happy my mother doesn't want me to step one foot farther away from her than I am now and I want to go get lost somewhere where they don't speak English (but don't have gang raping militia roaming around ...Congo is oooout - sorry Veronique). I'm not happy I don't have more money. I'm not happy my ex was a dolt. I'm not happy I gained weight (although it looks great on my ass...) -- But I'm not Unhappy.

I'll think I'm going to have to take it back to the Philly old school when I say,

mind yur bitness mizz.

learn something you don't know already....funtimes.

http://whatthefuckhasobamadonesofar.com/

Enjoy! My new smart friend told me about it...looove her! Making me read and shit (aka non-scifi).

For colored girl - I couldn't wait!!!

8:18 pm   Why did everyone in one section start screaming when the man on man sex act in the alley way happened....oh boy....
Also.....so far so good...

8:28 pm Whoopie goldberg has got her mojo working...she is oscar amazing....


8:46 pm And thandie is killing it too. Love love love her....oookay so the illegal abortion is coming up and really....I'm not ready....mayce gray...I'm not ready.


8:55 pm I wonder, right now, am I a coward. I slipped out the room with the sounds of sad cries at my back. I can always sense the rape scene. They make me sick to my stomach and never leave my mind. Am I supposed to watch them out of some kinda solidarity? I dunno. I'm not doing it. I'll just sit out here and talk to you until I'm sure its over. I'll miss the whole movie before I watch that. I mean..it entertainment right? Educational, truth? Maybe i'll watch it when I know what to do with it.

I think I can go back in now.

9:27 pm  So while whoopie says her father molested her ..."he said I'm ugly"...they laughed

When she smeared her fallen daughter with blood,
They. Laughed.....

But it isn't funny right arty?

Why are they laughing....?

Post Op... Full disclosure... I haven't read the bible book. So I came to the play without the emotional connection that many have with the text. Much the same way that I have never watched Hally butcher 'their eyes were watching god' and am eternally grateful that my soul text (Mama Day) is much too obscure for anyone to bother fucking up on the big screen with their myopic and 'some other group''- centric interpretation of the main points - all that being said to say - I get it.


But I didn't read the book - so I thought it was okay.


It wasn't good.


It was too melodramatic. It was too caramel colored. It was too permed. It was too long legged and slimmed hipped.  Too many people laughed at the wrong places - at the pain on whoopie's non-caramel face as she discussed her molestation by her father. I blame Tyler. Too many things mushed up against each other with soapy soap opera music...equals dummies missing the point and laughing at the pain.


But it felt like truth up there on the screen. My story was being told and not the abridged version. I felt soothed and loved and encouraged and affirmed. So thank you universe for placing this bit in my life...right now..when I most needed. 


I still hate  dislike you strongly tyler perry. For creating Madea. I'll forgive you one day. When you take off the wig, the dress, and the fake boobs for good. and then when god tells me to...that's when I'll forgive you. until then...you know how it goes.

Election Day!!!

and lord save  us from ourselves...