what is dating?

on dictionary.com i didn't get any results in the manner in which i'm speaking.  i decided to look up courting instead which was defined as 'to seek another's love.'  whatever that means.

i think dating is one step of many.  if you like someone, that's cool and all but if you want something more from them, even something you haven't defined, then you might need to date to get there.  dating is what happens after liking you. maybe i want your sex, maybe i want you to be my man, maybe i want you to marry me.  the point is that dating is however long it takes me to convince you to give me what i want.  dating is not over, it's just that most of us don't require it anymore.  me personally, i like long walks in the park, lounging in bed and watching movies. dating is what we do when we're interested, when we want to see where liking you goes. dating is a choice. and if you really think no one's doing it, then you haven't been chosen yet.

i'm about to lose my worried mind

i want you to listen to the piano.
that is the sound of fingers that never tire, that makes legs tremble wet with tears that feel like rain.
i can see the smoke lift off the ivory keys and that is how i inhale you into me.
inhale.
intense.
in love.
in tune.
pianos can do so many things
but the bench can only hold two of us
and i make love to you
on top of the piano, between the keys, in the midst of the smoke
i make love to you
i make love to you
i make love to you
pressing your keys into the palm of my hands
i live inside of melodies, confused moans and the smoke never clears
clouds become jealous
mimicking the smoke our friction pours into this mahogany
these fingers never tire
this fountain will always be wet
and my water will try to fight these flames away
but all elements marry
intensely.
in love.
in tune.
i inhale the very spirit of you.
your fingers never tire
they play me till chords bounce off the walls laden with the silhouette of my open legs
your blackness slides in between my pale limbs
and with a feeling so good
i could never understand why anyone would be afraid of the dark
i crawl into your smoke.
inhale.
intense.
in love.
in tune.

there isn't always a pot of gold at the end

i'm finally reading for colored girls who considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf.  i can't tell you what's taken me so long to read it entirely.  i've caught bits and pieces of the play when it was featured at my school and i've heard great things about it but i could never bring myself to fully invest.  i believe that books of this nature retain a sense of self discovery that i was just wasn't ready to endure.  i won't give away too much of the book but i will say every woman is identified by a color and as i read, i'm finding out that you need color to paint every picture, even the ones you don't like.

and i've finished the book. i could call it an emotional roller coaster but it left me sitting still. in shock, awe, despair, but most importantly, in love.  i want to tell you so bad what color lady i am, but that's going to have to wait for my own book.  it has to. inspiration has to mature into something a little more grand than dreams and memories.  there were some faces i recognized in between the first page and the last, some reminiscent of women i know and the woman i am.  the biggest appeal Ntozake Shange achieved with this choreopoem is the fact that the story never ends.  there is no denoument which is the french term equivalent to 'tying up loose ends.' [you're going to see my french creep into my writing because i believe in being thorough as much as being fluent].

the following are some lines that keep bouncing back and forth between my ears.  i won't quote the lady to the phrase because i figure this is about your identity for now.

this note is attached to a plant 

i've been waterin since the day i met you

you may water it

yr damn self

a friend is hard to press charges against

if you know him

you must have wanted it

a misunderstanding

you know

these things happen

are you sure you didn't suggest

a rapist is always to be a stranger to be legitimate

cuz it turns out the nature of rape has changed

we can now meet them in circles we frequent for companionship 

wit someone else we know

we cd even have em over for dinner

& get raped in our own houses

by invitation

a friend

she waz hot

a deliberate coquette

who never did without

what she wanted

& she wanted to be unforgettable

she wanted to be a memory

a wound           to every man

arragant enough to want her

she rose

movin the arms & legs that trapped her

she placed the rose behind her ear

& cried herself to sleep

ever since i realized there waz someone callt

a colored girl an evil woman a bitch or a nag

i been tryin not to be that & leave bitterness

in somebody else's cup

i had convinced

myself colored girls had no right to sorrow/ & i lived

& loved that way & kept sorrow on the curb/allegedly

for you/ but i know i did it for myself

i cdnt stand it

i cdnt stand bein sorry & colored at the same time

it's so redundant in the modern world

here

is what i have/ poems/ big thighs/ lil tits/ &

so much love

lemme love you just like i am/ a colored girl/ i'm finally bein

real/ no longer symmetrical & impervious to pain

but bein alive & bein a woman & bein colored is a metaphysical

dilemma/ i havent conquered yet/ do you see the point

my spirit is too ancient to understand the separation of 

soul & gender/ my love is too delicate to have thrown

back on my face

n my innocence/  waz a lover/ i made too much

room for/ almost run off wit alla my stuff

why don't ya find yr own things/ & leave this package

of me for my destiny

one thing i dont need

is any more apologies

they dont open doors 

or bring the sun back

they dont make me happy

didnt nobody stop using my tears to wash cars

cuz a sorry 

i am simply tired of collectin

i found god in myself

& i loved her/ i loved her fiercely

those weren't grammatical errors. those were spirits speaking a language they own, not an act of editorial carelessness. it was for emotions we don't feel we've earned the right to discuss.  it was for being called man bashers when we've only been bashed by men. it was for colored girls who have considered suicide when the rainbow is enuf.

the honeymoon is over

leaves change. change leaves.

every time i visit, i see ducks.  meanwhile a little birdie [no pun intended] told me, "be like a duck. be calm, cool and collected on top, but be paddling like sh.t underneath."  this has nothing to do with the story i'm about to tell you or it hasn't revealed itself.  the point is that every time i go, i see ducks.

it was a long day running errands - cupcakes, returns, school parties, jury duty, early mornings, gas stations and one cup of vanilla chai.  i had been on my feet all day without a chance to sit down and get inside my mind.  i promised myself i would take the word hectic out of my vocabulary and then prayed to whoever was listening that if they would ever be so kind to bestow a break on me, i would thoroughly enjoy it.  then my bag started singing and anxiety took over me.  who else is calling me!? geez! if it's another email about a pta meeting or another text message about a ciroc induced coma, i'm going to politely throw my phone across the room.  i dug through my brush, my wallet, my receipts and lips gloss and finally retrieved the most expensive grief i own - my iPhone.  the name popped up on the screen and i simply exhaled.  it could be that time stopped indefinitely or it could be those butterflies that women keep telling me about - whatever it was, it made me answer the phone.

within ten minutes of the conversation, it was evident, my rough draft of a prayer had been delivered, received and accepted.  this break, whether i deserved it or not, was happening.  i was finally in the good graces of the powers that be and thus i packed a bag.  i can't lie. i barely packed and for a woman that translates into two pairs of shoes, one of which didn't even match the next-day outfit, foundation, but no eyeshadow, no pajamas and no extra bras or panties.  it was indeed a 'what you see is what you get' mission.  my weariness would perpetrate itself as comfort.  it would take a wise man to know the difference.

my painted journey of concrete was accessorized by fall leaves and quiet raindrops.  i tapped my fingers on the steering wheel to the melody of soca and the jittering of my anxiety. this escape could very well get me caught up,  but with every mile, it was a risk worth taking.  my phone rang and interrupted my thoughts. for the sake of this story we will name the caller Glory for the mere fact that Adele's song, 'Chasing Pavements' brings his face to the forefront of my mind.  glory was calling me again, this time to keep me company like he was actively sitting in the car.  so we spoke, spoke like we hadn't spoken all day and as if we weren't going to speak all night.  nonetheless, his concern left me feeling less concerned about being in the dark, literally and figuratively.

when i finally pulled up to the front door, the familiarity took over my jumping nerves.  i was there, wherever there was in his casual embrace.  somewhere between taking my shoes off and putting my bags down, i left a lot of luggage behind.

now fast forward with me through a couple shots of tequila, flirtatious glances and the kind of rain that you watch accumulate on your window while wishing on a star that your dreams come true.
it went something like this.

he kissed me so deep i could hear my veins speak
breaking flesh instead of hearts, i didn't mind 
as long as my heart beat
my hips straddled him while my face leaned over his
tracing the bone structure of a king buried between my thighs
pyramids were built in egypt but i swear i saw them in his eyes
un.
deux. 
trois.
i rode the emotions like a mermaid
balancing between the past and the future, tap dancing with reality 
so good that whoever we hurt, consider the debt paid
free of all strategy and sweating with pleasure
with lips like pillows, of course we talk.


"good morning beautiful," he said to me, with my hair scattered and my face as pale as the sky.
"good morning handsome," i replied.  though i'll never know what his meaning of beautiful is, i was pleasantly surprised. me beautiful? lying naked, flushed with puffy eyes from the best exhaustion i've ever known didn't feel beautiful but since he said it, the least i could do was believe it.  then i thought to myself, why would i second guess being beautiful if i didn't hesitate to call him handsome.  it was then that i began to define what i considered handsome.

with the utmost sincerity, he is the most handsome man i have ever seen.  when i look at him, i simply cannot see anything else.  i can close my eyes and still see the bridge of his perfect nose, the dimples under his high cheekbones and the color of his eyes which could only be described as intense.  when he looks at me underneath the longest eyelashes known to man and woman, i am transparent by the blinding stature of the man before me. he is handsome to me and my pheromones. this sh.t goes deeper than personalities and good conversation.  he's the ideal and my dna agrees with me.


so there we were, this beautiful woman and this handsome man in each other's bare presence.  this was anything but impressive.  the courting experience had passed and we hadn't noticed.  lounging in bed all day entertaining thought and repressing action, we sat there, flipping through magazines, tv channels and twitter while occupying the same space and not feeling claustrophobic.

if you ever need to find out how much you like someone, look at them while they're being insensitive or while they're overreacting and kiss them. keep kissing them. chase them. pour them a glass of water. hold them. sleep on their chest. do one, some or all. but if you can be there through the insensitivity and the overreaction, then you will choose to remain there.  it won't be your favorite part but it's not the only part.  you will realize that liking someone is about leaving your comfort zone to create theirs and if you are successful, then it's a comfortable place to be in for the both of you. i digress.


the day slipped through our fingers like sand in an hourglass with nowhere to go.  time moved slow like relationships sometimes do.  yet and still, while we were in our own world, the real world slipped in.  i had let the outside world come in and steal my joy.  letting someone's harsh words take a hold of my happiness instead of gripping the reality that they had no stake in my happiness had shattered our peace. though i tried desperately to keep my temper from seeping through my pores, my efforts went in vain.  i was indeed human and my need to vent forced me to excuse myself into a hallway whispering into a cell phone about transgressions that i could not keep quiet.  before i knew it, tears were streaming down my face as i tried to break back into the real world to handle real problems.  suddenly, i no longer felt beautiful.  the pale face he had woken up to was now flush with anger. the soft hands that caressed his face were now trembling from stress and the big, brown eyes that he thought were pretty were now bloodshot with tears from a well that should have went dry a long time ago.  i was so caught up in my conversation that i didn't feel him walk into it.  before i could exchange my tears for a colgate smile, he was in front of me.  though he had seen me naked plenty of times before, he was truly seeing me naked now.

"what's wrong love?"
"nothing," i replied as i wiped tears away with my sleeve.
"you're crying, you never cry. something's wrong. talk to me," he said as he stood firmly in his place.  he was not leaving unless i was coming with him, in a better condition than the one he found me in.

i kept my reasoning brief.  i had given more attention to this conversation than it deserved.  before he led me back into the festivities he said, "i want you to turn your phone off, just for now.  i want you to enjoy this."

i listened. i enjoyed it and now i'm enjoying it.  the honeymoon is over.  tears are not fun. overreacting is not fun. insensitivity is not fun. but walking through those things hand in hand gets you to the fun part. 

paparazzi shots

it's safe to say that @tiffthomp and i don't know how to pose for pictures together.  i went through a lot of pictures and there's NONE of us together posing. not one. i would love to know what goes through our minds when a camera comes out. i think we both think something along the lines of "life's too good to pause for a picture!" f.ck it.

friendship

remember my friend todd? he makes me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. if you don't have a friend like that, find one and if you already have, hold on for dear life.  friends like this aren't around to boost your ego, they're around to remind you that your mere presence is sufficient.  i don't have to be anybody else but myself. i don't have to conform to what doesn't come naturally.  sometimes, it's easy to forget and you might need a reminder.

you don't have to guess who took the picture - ms. ramsay

speaking of forgotten people and things, someone asked me the other day, who writes this blog, t lloyd or (insert my full first name here).  i honestly had to think about it.  although they are not two different people seeing as i haven't been diagnosed as a schizophrenic, they are two very different sides of one person.  t lloyd is the outgoing side that loves getting to know people and their story and is addicted to fresh talent just as much as shoes and handbags. but (insert my full first name here) is much more introverted and private.  those lips are sealed.  i'm guessing that it takes both sides to complete this blog, this work, sh.t this life.

i believe that your sanity is something to be cherished and protected.  i won't be everything to everyone. i can go weeks without talking to the people i speak to everyday - not because i love them any less but because sometimes i forget to love myself more.  sometimes i have to take a backseat and just find what makes me happy and prioritize that.  listening to everyone is a skill but it is also very exhausting.  we are the energy we receive.  so after hearing about everyone's days, boyfriends, crazy mamas and financial woes, sometimes i just have to turn my mind off and resume this friendship at a later date.  i can say it's not personal but it is, it just depends on which person you're looking to blame.

for instance, i had an interesting conversation with the ladies this weekend.  of course the topic of discussion was, 't lloyd and why she's so damn crazy' - with love of course.  i am a very logical person when it comes to my own emotions.  it's very rare that i let my emotions get the best of me.  98% of the time, i don't give a f.ck.  there are worse things to be mad at or to stress over so i usually remain indifferent to most of life's daily nuances.  but some of my friends don't understand that or accept it.  i live differently and different does not mean greater or less than, it just means different.  to me, accepting someone is all encompassing.  i accept that you're always late so if you're late, i'm not going to get mad.  it wouldn't make any sense. that's you and because i love you, i'm going to accept that wholeheartedly which means i'm not going to punish you with my anger when you do what you've always done.  but my lack of emotions always leaves the conversation sour - like i woke up one day and said, in order to piss everyone off i'm going to be nonchalant.  i guarantee you, that's not how it happened.  i just am.  i'm sure there was an order of events that brought me to this point but even if i could break it down, i'm simply not willing to. me being nonchalant is the equivalent of me being brown skinned - this is who i am.  it's not to be malicious or disinterested.  it's just my way of calculating what's important and what's not and most of the things that people tend to get stressed about or mad at, is simply not important.  tomorrow we will still be friends, even if you show up to dinner late.  and in the event that i get sick and tired of you being late to dinner, we're just not going to dinner anymore. we're going to adjust our behavior to something that we can both do well with.  there's no point in setting you up for failure.

all in all, i gather that friendship is a two way street like anything else - whether you're walking or driving, you've got to move.

babies.

longest weekend ever.
tripped over children.
fed them lots of candy.
let them stay up too late.
popcorn, cheetos, smores, if it had calories, i ate it.
mommy got a stomachache.
but the tiny humans? they had a blast.
and this weekend, i wouldn't trade a terrible pregnancy and stretch marks for anything in this world.
children are beautiful and precious and i'm glad i made one.

p.s. mini me almost fell out the damn tub. instinctively i caught her with one hand right before her face hit the ground. it was then that i understood why children believe their parents have superpowers. because we do.

idiot box

this is a weird [and i mean that in the nicest way possible] picture however i'm just trying to make a point.  i'm not sure if their show is still on television but it's always a great relief seeing positive images of young, black women. 

can you tell i'm sick of these damn basketball/football wives/housewives [which should read b.tches that would rather go by their last name if they're even married than their first]?

yeah i said it.

under construction

so i made some changes to the blog! i'm excited.  just when i think i hit a wall, something changes in me and the blog changes with me. i think it's pretty weird that i don't even entertain my facebook page but i can  do this.  anyway be sure to take the poll on the right side, flip through some pictures or visit other great blogs. thanks.

would you try again?

my life must be built on second chances.

everything in context

you think you'll be with someone forever and then it hits you that forever isn't so long.

prologue

i've come up with a few intros for the beginning of this book but my mind is always changing with whatever day i'm living.  if i had to publish it today, it would go as follows...

i am the martyr to my own deeds.  controlled by my own irrational behavior, i consider love my lawyer, the prosecution, jury and judge.  from all sides, i'm confused and looking at a lifetime in cages.  my lawyer has an illustrious record.  her clients have all taken long walks whether it was down the aisle or off a cliff is neither here nor there.  the fact is, she gets them moving.  clients who had gotten so comfortable standing still, she has convinced them that even the earth moves so maybe we, too should give it a try.  


we stand there, love and i, standing close enough to be considered comfortable but with enough distance to admit we've disappointed one another. i told her i wasn't coming back here and she promised me, she would take me far away.  but we're back. i cling to her inadvertently by clinging to him and she defends me to the grave i'm so feverishly digging.  today, the judge has eyes like my mother.  those disapproving eyes peer at us from her mahogany seat looking at love and i like children with average report cards - she thinks we should be doing so much better.  easy for her to say, she's never done her homework, much less ours.  i look back at my mother with a face she doesn't remember giving birth to.  while love tries to mediate between us, the silence is the only thing thicker than our tension.  while she wonders if i'll ever get it right, i wonder if she'll stop getting it wrong.  she knows i need to learn a lesson but she hasn't figured out that love is teaching me all the things she never could.

change

the Yankees lost last night. they won tonight.
last night i was worried. tonight i am not.
things change and we must learn to be flexible.
as my grandmother says, "you must bend so you do not break."

i never told you

i looked at this blank screen for nearly an hour going back and forth about what i was trying to say and what i'm still not willing to.  so i'm just gonna close my eyes and type this from memory and hope that when i open them, i don't misspell every single word.

i've always known love.  i've always had a peculiar way of knowing who i love very early on.  it feels like a gift but a bigger part of it feels like a curse.  imagine knowing within weeks that you could potentially be with someone for a lifetime.  imagine knowing that the way he kisses you will be the same way he kisses you on your wedding day.  it's a beautiful gift but a very expensive curse.  i don't even know how i acquired this clarity but i can't remember a time i didn't have it.  i've been right every single time too.  i've looked at someone from across the room or spoken to them thousands of miles away and i've been right.  i've always known who i was capable of loving while also knowing that they would love me back.  and after all this love, this is not to say that i've gotten it right.  love is not the equivalent of success and so it's only brought me so far.  but even in the things that i've known were to come, i've done unimaginable things.  though i know that love exists, i've never been able to narrow it down into how.  people love so differently.  no two feelings have been the same.  every single one has had their own obstacles whether it be distance, infidelity or broken pieces trying to come together to make a whole.  the battles are unique and tiring but there some beautiful things that happen that can only be described as memories.  and now i'm in that place again, foreshadowing something that may have already happened.

he swells inside my spirit like oceans over miles of sand

stars creep over my shoulders to dance with my tears

and i know when i wake in the morning, i'll still be thinking about last night

his voice leaves fingerprints on my lips so much so that every time we speak, we touch

time skates between us on fragile ice marked up by the strokes we once swam

the clouds hold on to our pillow talk and the words rain down like sulfur

stinging the very inside of our eyelids so that we are compelled to keep staring at one another

he makes me want to believe in good things, white dresses and receptions

and though i want him to know that the conversations our souls have is really the love our bodies make, some secrets need no prompting

i want so desperately to tell him how broken i am, but that's impossible when he makes me feel whole

so i let the past flow like rivers beyond us and sit still like lakes below us hovering over the possibilities that who i am will be who he loves and who i was won't be someone he knows

it's a difficult persuasion to know something you can't believe in 

and i want to tell him so bad that i know how this is gonna end...

i want to tell him that it's not.

it's.

not.

gonna.

end.

day 29 challenge

i didn't forget about my challenge. the question is what have i learned in the last month.  i'm wondering if it's what have i learned in the month of october or the thirty some odd days it's taken me to complete this challenge.  either way i've learned plenty.

-i thought letting go was hard and it is but loving someone is harder. loving someone with their flaws and their hangups, loving them when they are cruel and when they lie, loving them when you can't even recognize them? - that's hard and if i can do that, i can let go.
-consistency is good or bad in context. just because i've been doing something for however long doesn't make it right, healthy or progressive.  it just makes me consistent and depending on what it is, it might make me a consistent fool.
-my comfort level with one individual is so high that it actually makes me uncomfortable.  in the midst of all that, i've used comfort and love interchangeably and it has done nothing good for us.
-if i can get past the yelling, i'm pretty sure my parents have something worthy to say.
-i'm not an option. [sounds simple but it's easily forgotten]
-my vocabulary is very important to my success. i have to stop calling the things i want dreams and refer to them as reality.

i'm sure or at least i hope i learned more than that, but so far, so good.

i missed you.

 so i missed my first thursday to reply to all your comments. in my defense i was in the emergency room for a sinus infection.  speaking of hospitals, if you have to forego anything, DON'T let it be your health insurance. get MEDICAID if all of your other options don't pan out for whatever reason. don't take no for an answer. you can deal with bills, what you can't deal with is being sick with no chance at recovering.

despite the fever, runny nose and chills, i could not miss my hair appointment the following day.  though i love the pampering, talking to my fabulous hairdresser is more therapeutic than spoiling.  she's only about six years older than me but it feels like we meet somewhere in the middle conveniently.  we're a lot alike and it's a favor from the universe that i found her.  sitting in her chair, i feel like our lives run parallel to one another.  maybe she's the older, fearless version of me doing the things i dreamed of doing but put off because someone told me to focus on reality instead.  either way, she represents a lot of the things i want to be. once i sit in the chair, we take a vow of confidentiality so i can only say this:  sometimes deep conditioning has everything to do with your soul and nothing to do with your hair.

i'm actually a little peeved that i didn't get to start my thursday responses but i'm anxiously looking forward to it.  since so many people said they loved this blog when i saw them this weekend, i'm even more excited about it.  and i don't get excited about much.

i love college

alumni/homecoming weekend.
had a blast.
didn't do anything.
absolutely nothing.
wore some really cute outfits.
took NO pictures.
hugged a lot of people.
people i've loved since 2004.
wished that i would have nurtured more relationships.
but still no love lost.
partied in the street. partied in the house. partied inside my spirit.
there's something insanely beautiful about seeing people grow and change right in front of you.
the ladies? gorgeous. amazing. talented. the reason i became a woman in the first place.
i couldn't help but be inspired
the younger ladies? i could only hope that i served as a positive reference to them.  no 'hating' here.
it just takes some of us longer to locate our beauty because too many people spend their time trying to make us feel ugly.
the men? well they are just handsome and they know it. they know their worth.  it's the only thing we should borrow from them.
they are also successful and ambitious. who doesn't want a man like that? only the girls that grew up with him when he didn't even know what those two words meant. he'll make a woman happy one day, just not us.  we're too busy in the friend zone because college taught us the value of being platonic.
the makeup, the shoes, the laughs, the hugs, the fights, the cocoloso...we're a family.
a dysfunctional family.
a family that is surrounded by prosperity, good health and the supreme possibility that we can do anything we put our minds to.
it's all love.
and that's invaluable, even when sallie mae puts a price on it.
tu motherf.cker.

p.s. i didn't take any pictures. just memories.

tranformers.

love never disappears.  it simply transforms itself into something/someone unrecognizable.  but while we're so busy looking for it, we forget that it's not something to be seen but felt.

nobody ever knows the rest...

opposites attract...BUT THEY EVENTUALLY REPEL.

i keep listening to this audio file of a short piece that has a lot to say.  i wish some things weren't confidential but that doesn't change the fact that they are.  i'm sure his voice and the words in combination have inspired me to keep playing it over and over again.  though i won't describe what this piece says or implies, i can respond.

i think he has tricked himself into believing that great things are too good to be true.  though the piece is written in past tense, it's his future i'm concerned about.

i wanna tell him:

from a prisoner's love.
there is no 'I' in 'US.' foundations require more than one set of hands.  though i trust that you are strong enough to carry it brick by brick and stone by stone, a woman's touch can smooth even the roughest edges. if 'she' is love, any tower built around her will crumble to her feet.  you've got to understand that something born free will always have wings.  so you must be delicate with her, reaching out enough of yourself so that she will land right where you want her to.  if love is the reason you built a tower around her then you will not have to wait for the foundation, or lack thereof to crumble because she will suffocate.  she will stifle under the expectations you've built in your mind instead of from your heart.

and the only concern you should have that includes time and love is that you don't have enough time to love her. time shouldn't feel like a constraint or a burden but rather an incessant reminder that every second you spend counting should have been spent counting her eyelashes or the times you made love or how many of her teeth show when you make her smile.  don't worry yourself with pieces of her that wear away with time.  you are her fountain of youth.  what storm has ever stopped a flower from blooming?

if you ever feel yourself hesitating, look into her eyes.  every time she blinks, you will feel a rush enough to kiss her.  when you kiss her, it is not a promise that you'll last forever but rather a statement of you dedicated to trying.  you're not afraid of making love, you're afraid of finding it.

and please stop worrying about not having a foundation to stand on because love brings you to your knees. remember? that's how you propose.

newsflash

apparently, you have to inform all of your belongings that you broke up with someone.  i typed netflix.com and the website said 'Welcome Back [insert common male name here]!' it was like a slap in the face.  i thought things had been made very clear over the last few months.  so in case you missed it like netflix did, here is what my publicist would say, if i had one...

good afternoon [with a tight lipped smile]

it is with deep regret that i am here to announce the official split between [insert common male name here] and ms. lloyd.  while they had a fulfilling and supportive relationship for quite some time, they have decided to go their separate ways.  during their relationship, they considered one another to be each other's best friend and better half.  since their needs and wants have changed, actually let's get real for a moment. [takes heels off and gets comfortable at the podium] relationships are verbal agreements that can be considered contracts.  in the contract between my client and the man mentioned above, there were certain stipulations that were violated without her knowledge.  when ms. lloyd became aware of the transgressions, the confrontation began and lasted for nearly three months.  there was a lot of anger, betrayal and inconsiderate actions and words exchanged.  upon further review of their relationship and its expectations, both parties realized that what had been broken could not be repaired.  after a few months of not having any communication with one another and dealing with the separation individually, ms. lloyd reached out to discuss the future of their friendship.  in the meantime, both [insert common male name here] and ms. lloyd began seeing other people.  by the end of the conversation, they agreed to let their anger subside and take casual steps toward their once existent friendship.  after a grueling separation, many relapses and sincere apologies they have agreed on an amicable departure.  they continue to speak on occasion and wish the best for one another in all endeavors.  please refrain from any questions as they have decided to handle this matter, like their previous relationship - privately.  for any existing signs titled, 'welcome back [insert common male name here]!' ms. lloyd's only response is that, "he has not returned."

thank you.

**editor's note**
how can i say refrain from any questions when i put this on front street and mean it? i don't.  this is a very sarcastic retaliation to netflix for thinking he was still logging on to my computer.  

of course, i'm sick. that makes sense.

i'm sick. sinus infection. pale face. eating like a pregnant elephant to replenish my failing immune system. wearing a down vest in the damn house. have the windows open but the heat on. man. i'm sick and it's all @danigirlbx's fault. sister or not, some things should just be kept to yourself.

you thought i was playing when i said wearing a down vest in the house?

i don't even look like a black girl anymore [whatever that looks like].  and by that i mean, all the sun my ancestors got from working in the fields is gone, i'm out here looking like a newborn.  i didn't pose for that picture either, i just happened to turn when i realized dead presidents was on tv.  i don't watch too many movies and barely any tv but i know the classics.  i wish i could catch up on some classics while i beat this sickness, but unfortunately, it's three days before homecoming. i have things to do before i celebrate with my alma mater.  i'll probably be in worse condition when i get back and that's absolutely fine.

in the middle of the night

on nights like this i remember days like that
where dreams color inside the lines of nightmares
fuzzy shadows dance on the walls as they tiptoe across the carpet to the head of the bed
you place your hands on her forehead feeling her warmth in your fingertips
maybe tonight you'll spare her
maybe you'll be too tired to wear her out
maybe the wish she dreamed upon a star will come true tonight and you'll pass her by
if only dreams came true that fast
you put your seething lips on hers
her eyelids tighten and somewhere she believes if she stays still enough, you'll leave
but you don't
she needs to breathe and her respiratory functions remind you that she's alive enough to still be considered prey
and so you feast on her quietly
invading her space, taking all that you can handle
leaving nothing for her to rebuild or reform
her insides ridden with litter left over from hurricane katrina and her spirit shaken like haiti
we forget how man and land can be the same humanity, resembling one another in likeness and loss
nonetheless, wreckage remains
there are some thieves that steal childhoods
invaluable moments of time that have a statute of limitations in the courtroom but not in the mind
and whether he's there or not, when she closes her eyes to go to sleep, she always feels his hand on her forehead.

someone sent me this at the right time.

see me now.

i've been a fan of mr. west since high school.  i've followed his music, his artistry and his personal life since i first heard him spit through a metal clad jaw.  but this isn't to talk about his music, although he's come out with a song every week leading up to his album release. good songs too.  this is simply a very nice picture. coming from someone who barely likes pictures, everything about this i love.  the french writing in the back with translates into 'the first,' the black on black everything and of course the smile.  i just like it. as a matter of fact, i love it.

day 28 challenge

'language of the past' qualifies as my answer for day 27 challenge.  it wasn't until i read it that i realized it's the answer to 'why did i take the 30 day challenge.' that's good evidence that this challenge is doing what it's supposed to do.  at the end of it, i'll disclose exactly what that is.  but today is day 28. a picture of me last year and how have i changed since then.

this picture is about two weeks shy of a year ago but this is all i could find.  photo credit to @danigirlbx. she's the historian of my life apparently.  last year, you can tell i was a thick joint. i had a couple pounds on me. they say happy people eat and if i remember correctly, i was happy.  how have i changed? i'm not so happy. that doesn't mean i'm sad, just indifferent.  for starters, i lost some of that weight. there goes my chances of being ms. new booty. i'm not in a relationship and that's a HUGE change.  sometimes, i still can't believe we're not together. i'm not in undergrad anymore and that's a BIGGER change.  colossal events have taken place but as far as who i am, i haven't changed as much as the things/people around me have.  i'm still wearing rose colored glasses thinking each day will be better than the last. i'm still a mom to one the most eccentric children i've ever had the pleasure of meeting. i still eat pretzels and spaghetti like their going out of style.  who i am is who i've always been just with bigger hair.  

so today...a year later...

i've learned that being in a different place is not necessarily better or worse.  i've also learned that it's ok to be angry and then change your mind. i've gotten more comfortable with the things i've been through.  i've learned to edit, to go back and look at things more than once.  funny enough, i don't read my own blog, once i post it, i figure it's yours to keep.  now i'm learning that i can retouch a few things. haven't done it, but at least i'm willing now.  i'm in lust as someone eloquently told me.  though i haven't decided if that's true or not, i'm definitely in a place i haven't been in before.  i'm enjoying the little things, phone calls, text messages, trips - things that i always needed in the big picture, never leading up to it.  i've also been doing a better job with keeping in touch, not great yet but just a little bit better.  oh! and i'm learning how to budget. it's a painful experience but i'm pushing through it, slowly.  the most important change is that i write so MUCH more than i did this time last year.  though i was too busy living life to write about it then, now i'm so in love with writing that life is only enhanced by it, not limited.  all in all, i'm the same womam but this time different rules apply.

who knows it all?

football season is in full effect and basketball season is blooming, which has a profound effect on my blogging abilities on sundays and mondays.  though watching sports is a fairly masculine trait according to the gender rules we abide by, the fact remains, i'm still very much a woman.  and because i'm a woman, i know exactly how it feels to be thrown to the wayside to watch first downs, punts and incomplete passes.  i have the sports center app on my phone.  i programmed my favorite teams and the teams to watch in football, baseball and basketball and when they start playing, i get alerts on every highlight, touchdown, timeout, penalty etc, during the game.  my friend who shall remain anonymous HATES it, primarily because i'll look at my phone and start screaming out of nowhere.  what can i say? sometimes the game gets intense.  this just leads me into who we are and what we expect from one another as men and women.

as far as gender roles go, letting a man feel like a man doesn't have to make you feel less than a woman.  i know and he knows that i am quite capable of opening a door or pulling out my own chair.  however, if doing those things makes him feel like my knight in shining armor, then for the sake of his ego and my nail polish,  i will simply say thank you.  anytime you're looking for a knight in shining armor, that means you have to be a damsel in distress of some sort. i never saw a prince just roll up on a woman working a nine to five, changing her own tire and drinking a heineken during monday night football.
i'm just saying. the term 'damsel in distress' is not used here as a sign of weakness but rather an opening for someone else to give you some balance. let's face it, you won't be good at everything and you physically cannot do it ALL.  i just think that your significant other, also known as prince charming is supposed to be that pause that gives you time to put your pieces back in order.  he [or she] is supposed to be the part of the day you look forward to, knowing that you can find grace in your heart by hearing the beating of theirs.  whether it's watching a movie or getting a bad phone call, there's something about the two of you that makes even the worst things bearable and the good things better.  i say these things like i'm in a relationship but since single men can talk about relationships, then a single AND competent woman can do the same.  speaking of single men talking about relationships, what gives y'all the right and not single women?  you must think that single and bitter are synonyms.  they're not.  considering that from what i've witnessed, your previous relationships usually involved YOU f.cking up in some form or fashion, what entitles you more so than i?  is your experience coming from a place of lessons learned by the bad guy or do you just believe that in the midst of your f.ckedupness [i made that word up], you've returned to the logical part of your brain from which you can give advice without having taken any? i'm just asking.

back to the topic.
in every fairytale, the prince saves her, comforts her when she is afraid and will go to the ends of the earth for her because no one else would.  out of all the things to be mad at a man for, i don't think any of those things qualify.  and in return for rescuing his queen, slaying dragons and taking the day off just to spend it with you, please let him watch monday night football. consider it, king arthur's round table.  i promise you, he'll come to your chambers as soon as it's over.

the language of your past

being a victim is temporary but being a survivor? well, that's something you can be for the rest of your life.

it's safe to say that this 30 day challenge has taken me longer than 30 days. i'm five days overdue but anything different wouldn't be me.  i started this challenge because writing means that much to me. i don't want a day to come where i'm complacent with this talent/skill to the point where i stop striving to become more open to it.  considering i told myself that i would write 600 words a day, this challenge has helped me get closer and then beyond that goal.  if you've noticed, my posts have become longer.  they've become very demanding of your attention.   maybe i have more to say or maybe it's what i'm saying but this writing has been pushing me closer to the edge lately.  every time i sit down to stare at this blog, it screams at me to write until i feel a little closer to freedom.  i can't complain about that at all.  while contemplating the direction of this blog, i discovered another dream.  besides writing this book, i need this book to become part of the curriculum in schools mainly because i think it will be a coming of age novel.  what young woman doesn't need that in high school?  i want to be the type of writer that not only connects with the audience but is a representative of that audience.  i don't want to be a mystery writer who no one ever sees or understands. i would hope that when someone reads what i've written, they can imagine me sipping a coca-cola typing away with my elephantastic finger nail polish listening to adele in the background.  i believe the imagery is as important as the vernacular.  i believe in the experience altogether.  and just when i thought that reading was a dying art, this blog has taught me that you are indeed reading and seeking out information that is relative to your lives. that's something to believe in.  despite my nonchalant writing style in this blog, i actually give a f.ck about grammar but since these thoughts rush out of my mind, i dare not filter them with a quest for grammatical perfection. but trust, i was once an English major, i get it and i'll do it, when i feel like it.

moving right along.  i had a conversation with one of my best friends today as we lounged on the couch discussing the new women we've become.  i was reading her blog, which showcases her photography but every so often she adds a few words.  she ended up showing me some sneak previews that took me to another level.  she's a very literal person so when she writes about something, she writes about its function.  plain and straight to the point.  you would think that it would be easy to read her stuff or have a conversation with her but for me, it never is. we are constantly bickering about the words we use in our conversations because she says one thing and i hear a next. what should be a five second conversation ends up being a fifteen minute "i thought you meant," "but that's not what you said," "b.tch you're confused" fiasco.  even in that madness, we always come to the conclusion that our differences have only shed light on how similar we are.  in the midst of the conversation, we had one of those moments.  i wrote something that i thought was very direct and she thought it was the exact opposite.

so she asked me bit by bit to break down each sentence of what i wrote.  never in my life have i ever spoken that particular story so candidly.  i've found ways to water down the story over the years to make it more bearable for myself.  but she asked and because she's been nothing but an open book for me, i realized that i owed her that much.  she deserved to know the person she was sitting next to and has been for the last ten years.  either way, she took me to a dark place, a place that i had buried so deep that i couldn't even feel anything for.  when i was telling her the story, it was almost as if i wasn't talking about myself but rather a girl i used to know.  but at least i told her the story, at least i spoke it into the reality of the woman i am now.  one day, i'm sure i will let the story out one day whether it's in the blog or the book but her desire for the truth did teach me something.  i learned that it is one thing to warn someone of danger but it is another thing to prepare them for it.

bad things happen to good people.  people rob the innocence of children.  sometimes the devil will know your name and your address. love doesn't always conquer all.  you can be pro-life until it's your life.  your memories can be nightmares. one day, you will wake up and wish you didn't but you did. the mere fact that you woke up is clear evidence that there is a purpose waiting for you to find it.  your purpose is big enough to carry all of your baggage for you - the good, the bad and the overweight.

day 25 challenge

now i can catch up to how i feel about my friends now that i've started on my relationships in a descending [descending having no bearing on priority] order.

my friends are my emergency contacts.  they are the seams that keep my stitching tight. they are the ones that listen to words i haven't spoken and read stories i haven't written yet.  i have pulled them into my life as individual, functioning parts that work to keep me whole.  i know that without them, i would be dead. there's no doubt in my mind.  no matter how we feel about suicide, the reality is that a lot of people face it every day and i'm no different.  but then i think, who will tell @danigirlbx how great her pictures are or who will snuggle with @melz_621, etc...there's too many of them to keep going.  the point is that because i feel like i owe them my life, my responsibilities to them keep me going.  i know you're probably saying, who would contemplate suicide when you have a child but honestly, mothers are no exception to grief.  just because i've thought about suicide doesn't mean i'm considering it.  i thought about dying [no pun intended] my bang blue but i have no intention of doing it, so don't get your knickers in a bunch. God spare life, i'll blog every day if it means you'll know i'm still alive. needless to say, my friends are my angels on earth.  they are the people that remember every allergy, every entry, every weird and quirky thing about me when they don't have to.  they recognize that i am not perfect and they love me in ways that inspire me to at least do better.  they are the most intimate parts of me and their happiness could bring me to tears if ever threatened and my friends know that crying is not my thing.

i could write all day about my friends who are really favors God granted me.  the easiest way to describe how i feel about them though is this: i'm in love.

day 24 challenge

i really started my day 25 challenge about my friends first but then i had to stop.  there's no way i can talk about my friends without first addressing my parents.  so here goes.

day 24 challenge - a letter to my parents.

i'm glad my grandmother raised me because i could never seem to find a middle ground between the two of you long enough to find some balance.  i know you've given me a lot to be thankful for - a clean house, good food and most of what i wanted within reason. you gave me the opportunity to go to good schools and make decisions for myself.  i was blessed beyond measure but there were still things i needed from the both of you that had a profound effect on the woman i've become. i know by now that you've noticed i have a talent for writing.  every time you look at me, i'm typing away on my computer updating a blog you've never read, a blog you've never had the desire to read. a part of me doesn't want you to read anything i write anyway because in the past when i've tried to divulge pieces of me, you've ripped them to shreds with negative comments or judgements because i'm not writing about fairytales and unicorns.  then when you see the damage you've done from the look of disappointment in my face, you save the day, with saying, "you're a good writer though." am i supposed to say thank you? you raised me to be polite so i will say thank you for recognizing that i can write well but that doesn't mean i haven't noticed that it's not good enough to make you sit down and read it.  and mom, for the record, i have no desire to write children's books.  in the middle of an argument one day, you tried to prove to me how well you know me and that's what came out of your mouth.  it couldn't have been further from the truth about me but it was a perfect example of the truth about you.  you both spent so much time providing and taking care of me that you never got to know me.  i guess that's why life is so bittersweet to me.  i would give up everything i own just to hear you say the name of my favorite book or what my biggest fear is but you have no idea. and it's not because i never wanted to tell you but rather because you never bothered to ask.
i remember the day i stopped talking to you, mom more so than dad. i never really talked to you daddy, i just listened. you told me to be seen and not heard, so when you came around, i just took your advice.  but mom, i remember the day like it was yesterday, it's etched in my mind like september 11. details don't even matter because the point is everything came crashing down.  i tried to tell you something that was important to me, that was monumental, that would shake the very core of the family you wanted so desperately for me to have.  but instead of protecting me, instead of standing up for me, you dismissed me. you didn't have an ounce of concern in your face for what had frightened me so much that it took five or six years to even speak the words into the atmosphere.  when i walked out of your room that day, i vowed to never tell you anything else. i was twelve. i was twelve years old when i decided that you were no longer my mother because mothers were supposed to protect their children at any cost. they were supposed to be the one person who would kill and die for their child and you couldn't do either. you didn't fit into my definition of a mother and so i learned to co-exist instead of feel.  when i used to come home after school and practice and close my door, you thought i was going through puberty, i was going through hell.
and daddy. i'm so much like you, it's scary. i inherited your need for control in your emotional relationships and your temper - two ugly things in a very pretty little girl.  but i also inherited your sense of charm and intelligence which makes people feel close to me without ever really being close at all.  from you, i have learned how to be loved without loving, which can make a lot of people mad. their anger, though justified in addition to their unrequited love is still no match for the ferocious temper i have.  i'm not proud to say that not only can i spit words like venom, but i have no problem doing so.  it makes it easier to move on from someone when you hurt them so bad that every time you look at them, you can only see the damage.  but then again, we're both leos, born a week apart from one another.  so not only was i born as the leader of my jungle, your royalty runs in my veins.  but you know what always crosses my mind? the lion of a tribe never marries. he sleeps with different people at different phases of his life leaving pieces of himself scattered.  but he's so busy protecting and maintaining the duties of his social position, that he never makes the time to be vulnerable.  he doesn't get to cry, he doesn't get to sleep. he gives and gives and gives from a source that never empties. then he dies, relatively young leaving a lasting impression on all those who he impacted but never having been impacted by someone himself on a comparable level.  if i am to be anything like the lion or like you, my father, i already know that my desire to keep giving will never leave me empty but it will also never satisfy me.  another bittersweet moment of my existence.
as fas as the two of you together, i won't blame you for the relationships i've had or the relationships i won't. but i will say this, the way a man treats a woman in front of their child is where that child defines love, romanticism and the elements of an intimate relationship.  when i moved out to go to college, i had no definitions and created my own in a haste that at the time did me more harm than good.  daddy, i wished i would have seen you pull out chairs for mommy or take her on vacations.  i wished you showed up to the house when you said you would because a child was not meant to watch their own mother's heartbreak.  and mommy, i wish you loved yourself as much as you love daddy. at least then you would have recognized your worth and been able to teach me how to calculate my own. back to you daddy, even though i know how your mind operates when it comes to love, i couldn't help but hope that you would spare my mother.  for the record, i've never heard you say i love you to her and i can't remember the last time you even told me.  the unrequited love thing runs deep under the broken shards of  what we've tried to call a family.
but the greatest thing you both have taught me, that i've only recently started to value is that you're human. mommy and daddy are not superhuman. just a man and a woman who couldn't bank on intimacy to foot the expensive bill children come with.  the more i realize how human you both are, the more forgiveness seems divine.  whether we've done the best we can we the opportunities we were all given or not, i'm eternally grateful for the opportunity anyway.
i have parents, two people that may not know how to love me but have spent my entire life trying. A+ for effort.

p.s. i think it's pretty cool that my initials are a combination of your own.

candid camera

there were two men, two women and plenty of fireworks.  they sat around the kitchen table discussing the fundamentals of relationships they had, they lost and were trying to have in the future.  insert a box of Heineken here and find out what we learned and what we taught, verbatim.

characters: the guru, mike lowry, the camera woman and ms. i look like i'm spanish but i'm not

background information: mike lowry and the camera woman are sleeping together. how typical of mike lowry.  in reference to their sexual performance, the guru gives mike lowry all the credit (must be a guy thing). the camera woman, deeply offended by the lack of acknowledgment for her role in the bedroom is shocked that she didn't hear [keyword being: hear] any corrections from mike lowry. she questions mike lowry, who in return feels offended himself because he did correct the guru, whether the camera woman heard it or not. scene.

guru: i tried to tell her, "camera woman, you f.cked up" but you know what keyshia cole, beyonce, tyra banks, madea does now? in his best imitation of a woman's voice: 'is he mad at me? he's really not gonna talk to me?' in regular voice: i thought you was all my single ladies. you had the all my single ladies voice. the guru begins to re-enact the popular dance video by Beyonce for her hit song 'Single Ladies.' Oh oh oh oh oh oh, hand flapping and everything.
the camera woman: now this. laughs hysterically.
mike lowry: like she directly came at me.
the camera woman: when i come at you, you'll know son.
mike lowry: no, when you come at me, you'll know i'll realize that sh.t. i know when i'm gonna get upset so i separate myself from the situation. i know me.
the guru: it was one of our friend's birthday so he got up to go take a shower. in his best imitation of a woman's voice: she's like 'did he really leave? he's not gonna talk to me? oh my gosh.
the camera woman: oh my goodness. i didn't sound like that! laughs.
guru: in his best imitation of a woman's voice: i can't blog anymore. go knock on the door.
mike lowry: ha! did she really say that? wait, did you tell him to knock on the door?
guru: i told her, no he's naked
the camera woman: don't ask me nothing.
mike lowry: she told you to knock on the door, she told you that sh.t? smiles
guru: yes she did.
mike lowry: n.gga if you woulda knocked on the door, i woulda answered the door butt ass nekkid.
guru: then we woulda had a problem. looks over at camera woman. then we would have had a problem.
the camera woman: laughs.

clearly, everyone had to agree to disagree. mike lowry is currently seeking help for his short temper and the camera woman is the only one allowed to knock on the bathroom door during his shower.  the guru continued to practice the dance moves from the 'Single Ladies' video until the next scene.

the camera woman: the question of the night is "if a girl is good at oral sex, does she give a lot of it?"
guru: she's done it a lot
mike lowry: i'm not saying she's done it a lot. what i'm saying is first thought, it's just like everything in life. i'm gonna think that you've been practicing, practicing until your perfect. is that so hard to believe? if i'm good at ball, you're gonna say i've been playing ball for a while.  if you're good at it, i'm gonna assume you're sucking d.ck you're putting in work. from any male's point of view or any athlete's point of view, to be good at something you have to practice.
guru: you're sucking d.ck. michael jordan ain't wake up dunking.
mike lowry: (insert real name here) sucks good dick!
HYSTERICAL LAUGHTER. THE CAMERA DROPS FOR FIFTEEN SECONDS.
guru: hey! laughs. come on, we're blogging!
mike lowry: hello! lol 
ms. i look like i'm spanish but i'm not: laughs. no, you can't say her name like that in the blog.

mike lowry: ok. laughs. we can start over.

guru: the camera woman sucks good dick! laughs.

mike lowry: the camera woman sucks good dick! laughs.

the camera woman:  laughs. i can edit that out. go ahead. i fucking hate you. laughs.

guru: you gonna take out 'the camera woman sucks good dick?'

the camera woman: i can

guru: that's part of our blog, the nerve of you

mike lowry: she sucks good dick that's why i said it. i was like "(insert real name here) what's up?"

mike lowry: how many times she said she suck dick?

guru: roll em!

mike lowry: exactly. she's been doing this son. and i was like 'yo why you lied to me like you sucked dick a handful of times?' she was like, in his best impersonation of the camera woman 'i don't know what you talking about, blah blah blah.' i didn't mean no offense, i said it jokingly too like, girls i know that can suck dick have been sucking dick

the camera woman: the reason i was so offended was because you acted like it was so impossible. if you read or watch whatever, you can learn. it's not that hard.

mike lowry: like brandy said in cinderella 'impossible things happen every day.' [yes, a grown ass man quoted cinderella] you know what i'm saying

guru: it's just like eating the box

the camera woman: no! eating the box is totally different because everyone woman is built different but y'all are all built the same!

guru & mike lowry in unison: no. we're not built the same

guru: every man likes different things when it comes to head.

the guru and mike lowry go into a vivid description of how they respond while receiving oral sex. needless to say mike lowry feels that oral sex is just the beginning. he's not going to let his lady friend get the best of him. he simply cannot succumb (no pun intended) to the woman's talents. the guru on the other hand ejaculates, says he's drunk and tired and takes the loss. he prides himself on being a great loser. the camera woman and ms. i look like i'm spanish but i'm not decide that mike lowry needs to take his losses and accept that a woman has done the damn thing. meanwhile the guru admits he loses a lot. hysterical laughing.

mike lowry: maybe you [camera woman] should be flattered instead of offended. n.ggas get their dick sucked. 

guru: yes we do. i do.

mike lowry: like i've gotten my dick sucked more times than i've fucked. real talk.

the camera woman: shakes head. that's disgusting.

guru: no it's not

mike lowry: girls come over just to suck your dick and fuckin' leave

guru: and LEAVE.

the camera woman: that's ridiculous

mike lowry: they'll suck his dick and sleep on the couch. remember her? remember her?

guru: i do remember her!

the camera woman: shoutout to that b.tch

mike lowry: to camera woman you suck dick like girls who suck dick every day.

the camera woman: well...laughs. i'm flattered

guru: if you can suck dick like a girl who sucks dick every day then damn

ms. i look like i'm spanish but i'm not: maybe that means that there's something special about me then

mike lowry: that's what i'm saying, why not take it as a compliment instead of insulting

ms. i look like i'm spanish but i'm not: it's all about delivery though

mike lowry: i can call two girls right now that will suck both of our dicks and go the fuck home with y'all sitting right there

the camera woman: that's riduclous

guru: y'all should leave

the camera woman: i feel like for the girls who do it rarely, they want to do it and that's why it's so much better. i'm doing it because i want to. i'm gonna do it when i feel like it.

ms. i look like i'm spanish but i'm not: exactly

mike lowry: when she [points to camera woman] sucks dick, she does a great job

guru: camera woman?

mike lowry: yes, when camera woman sucks dick, she does a GREAT job

guru: claps

mike lowry to guru: she's up there with those we've been like, she's been sucking dick for a while

guru: like when i came out like "oooooh!"

mike lowry to guru: like that bitch! when you got turned out!

guru: i gotta give you [camera woman] a pound for that sh.t.

mike lowry: he [guru] was like n.gga she sucked my dick! my toes were curling

guru: they were genuinely curling laughs

camera woman: just don't doubt us

mike lowry: i'm saying you suck dick great

guru: it's a badge of honor

camera woman: so do you kiss when you're having sex?

mike lowry & the guru in unison: no

camera woman: what's the deciding factor?

guru: we don't kiss the hoes

mike lowry: but i'm sure you slipped up and kissed a hoe, i know i have like sh.t

guru: yes i have. this bitch caught me. fuck!

mike lowry: shit this bitch kissed me

camera woman: with the exception of the ones that catch you, how do you evade them?

guru: you cradle the head

mike lowry: you lead her

guru: caress the head, you guide her

mike lowry to camera woman: you can't see that?

camera woman: shakes her head

mike lowry: i'm gonna have sex tonight without kissing

guru: got you

camera woman: no you're not. laughs. n.gga shut up

guru: how you know he's not camera woman?

mike lowry: how you know i'm not?

camera woman: laughs. don't get snatched up on film

guru: do you have proof of that camera woman?

camera woman: he [mike lowry] he could try that if he wants to. you could try that.

guru: with who?

mike lowry: what's up? she knows something we don't

guru: i don't know. looks at camera woman. with who?

camera woman: who are you gonna have sex with without kissing tonight?

mike lowry: the girl who's gonna sleep in my bed

camera woman: hmm

guru: as he said i'm going to have sex tonight without kissing, camera woman jumps up, NO he's not. 

camera woman: why would you do that? why would you purposely try and fuckin sabotage the experience?

guru: time out. is he having sex with you?

camera woman: laughs. excuse me, the camera woman does not divulge the activities of her va-jay-jay.

guru: then what made you jump up and say, 'no you're not?'

camera woman: i don't believe in sabotaging the experience for a project

mike lowry: you see her [camera woman] slapping her thigh

guru: slaps table. just like we don't believe if you say you're good at giving head and you barely ever give head

camera woman: alright do what ya'll want, believe what you want. just don't get fucked up. don't let today be the day you get fucked up. that's all i'm saying.

after the threats hit the atmosphere, camera woman and ms. i look like i'm spanish but i'm not were surprised to find out that after long periods of sex, when a man is ready to ejaculate, he thinks of someone else instead of his current lover.  this led into an uproar from the female participants, such that the guru and mike lowry ran out the room. the camera woman and ms. i look like i'm spanish but i'm not decided to change into pajamas. when all parties calmed down the conversation resumed.  soon enough, another argument ensued when the men disclosed with no remorse that it's fucked up but it happens.  they tried to compare the female reaction to trey songz, chris brown and idris elba to justify their actions. the females retorted that though they felt the men were attractive, they did not think of them in the bedroom when with their partners.  the men soon copped a plea and revealed that neither of them had ever thought of anyone else if and when they slept with the camera woman/ms. i look like i'm spanish but i'm not. smart move. the women were still in shock at the male disregard for the woman right in front of them to which they stood firm in their statement that it happens because sex will eventually get boring with the same person.  in an effort to offer some comfort, the guru and mike lowry gave the example of sleeping with a girl but thinking about their girlfriend instead.  now that's really fucked up so they thought that once the women knew that little tidbit of information, they would be pleased. the camera woman and ms. i look like i'm spanish but i'm not were in fact, not pleased at all. 

when men and women sit down to talk, there's bound to be entertainment.  though it's easy to say that we don't speak the same language, that's simply not true.  we just have a hard time accepting certain things about the opposite sex. we hear it we don't understand.  it will probably stay that way for the rest of earth's existence but the trick is to find a person you're at least willing to understand, especially when you really don't.

thank you!

i know some of these posts can blur the line between fiction and reality but somewhere, it's happening to someone. that's what matters most.  i know it's difficult to decipher the difference between storytelling and documenting personal events but there is certainly a reason as to why i switch between first person and third person.  it honestly doesn't matter who is going through these things. what matters is that someone is and because no one likes to feel alone, they shouldn't have to. not everyone will start a blog and not everyone will write in their diary but since everyone can relate, it's only right that they're given a voice.

so yes, these posts serve as my release but they are also reminders that documented emotions cannot be ego driven or purposely written to accommodate the views and likes of others. these words have been written to inspire, relate and divulge.  all of me to all you in due time.

oh and i definitely read ALL of your comments, whether it's an email, a text, a tweet or however else you choose to contact me.  i can't say enough how much i appreciate it. i literally screamed out loud when i found out over 3,000 of you logged in to read my thoughts. thank you, thank you, thank you.  after much debate about how to address your comments, @danigirlbx came up with a great idea. i will respond to every single one of them on thursdays.  i will dedicate a whole post to respond to your thoughts, your questions and your ideas, just to say thank you for reading. and it'll be much easier to find considering you don't have to go back to the post you commented on to see if i responded.  this blog has grown in ways i never imagined. it started as a class assignment, then it turned into the things i've noticed, then into the things i've felt, then into detailed accounts of different experiences and now it's a conversation i feel like i'm having with everyone who checks the page.  i just wanted to say thank you essentially and that i really appreciate that you're taking this journey with me.

I won this round.

love is concrete. ya dig? 

remember when i went on vacation and i snapped these great pictures? well some things are so nice that you have to do it twice, so i did, with a better camera and my sister on call photographer - the lovely ms. @danigirlbx.  it's the same place but this time at night. a totally different atmosphere.

i didn't know what i was looking for. i was probably looking for anything that would make me turn around and walk away quicker than a hoe from the pulpit. but i had to see for myself.  i had to find out if what he did to me was greater or less than what i would do for him.  it was a balancing act of sorts trying to feel out my own feelings.  liking someone was always complicated for me.  the formula never seemed to work. liking someone was never enough or either too much so i strayed away from it all together.  i could be interested but never smitten.  i mastered the art of physical interest without intimacy, which threw a lot of men off.  it was nearly impossible to fathom a woman being completely disinterested in whatever they had to offer. what girl didn't want a relationship? what girl didn't catch emotions? it was a rude awakening for a few of them, learning that my panties were just as much a priority to me as they were to them.  the look on a man's face when he realizes you don't give a f.ck is a prime example of how you ended up f.cking in the first place. sometimes to gain control, you have to give it up first.  thankfully, that phase has passed. i no longer have the desire to entertain the competition between egotistical male suitors. it's simpler now. if you want me, you just can't have me, none of me, for no other reason than i said so. you could be great. you could be the marrying type. you could love me and my mini me. you could be everything i've wished for. but it's up to me. i'll decide what i want to give you and how. whether you do good or bad, i've already made my decision. so save the antics and the charm. i will give myself to you when i'm ready, but until then, there will be no sneak previews. 

and just like that, i've given myself up for a ransom i'm not so sure he can afford.  this phase is unchartered territory.  and if i could pinpoint whatever he did or didn't do to get me to this point, i would tell you but i have absolutely no idea. all i know is that he made me blush.

i could see my reflection in his dilated pupils. ecstasy traced over his flesh like sweat on damp skin.  this was a familiar feeling in an unfamiliar place.  we were on a bridge suspended above the very things we feared.  with each kiss, we were getting closer to the edge trying to remind ourselves that the fall wouldn't kill us, but rather the sudden stop.  i pressed my lips against his and traced his hairline with my fingernails.  the palms of my hands traced over his skin while our tongues had a conversation with more moans than nouns.  his hands sculpted my body into a warm masterpiece with the pieces of me he had since mastered.  my hips spread over his pelvis and my breasts pressed against his chest.  he pulled me close to him, so close that not even air could squeeze through.  my insides spilled onto him like words we can't get back. "baby, right there. damn. you feel as good as you look. oh my god. you do something so different. just like that. shh. baby. don't stop. keep doing that. just lay back."  i wined and dined on the man before me because the hunger of intrigue had taken over.  he tugged at the very flesh of me mixing pain with pleasure - the ingredients to a feast only we could enjoy.

it's damn near impossible to make vulgar behavior modest.  if perfection were human, we would be its parents. rolling and riding into the horizon of our own bodies. i came over and over again just to come to the conclusion that i had to leave. the line had been crossed, smudged in our sweat and there was no turning back. the chemistry had exploded in our faces and there were fireworks in the palm of our hands, turning everything we touched into gold.  fingers dripped with anticipation good enough to lick off one by one.  my hands traced in between his ribs and i borrowed one because from him, i came, so it was only right. i looked at him through blurry eyes with steam rising from my pores like i had been seeing him for the very first time. he was so deep inside of me that i could no longer blame shallow conversation for this massacre of modesty.  something had happened, something we couldn't control, something we could only bear witness to.

it's safe to say the architecture curves to the architect. i drew him into me like oil paintings to a canvas.  when you're blank, you are easy to occupy.  empty people get full quick  and he had filled every inch of me until my cup runneth over with more than enough liquid to quench his thirst.

and there i was, witnessing art walk through me and thanking whichever god could hear me.  it was there while lying on top of him did i see the transformation between humanity and the divine.  i had pleased him for pleasing me.  

Not even the darkest darkness could stop the tiniest light from shining. If you look closely, to the right of the picture, there we are patiently waiting. Why? Because we were leaving together and that's what you happens when you come together.