I Blame the Phone

I can't be mad.

If I told him I couldn't talk to him everyday, what do I really expect? People move on. Some, more quickly than others... He moves damn fast. I'm just saying.

It's not that I couldn't "talk" to him everyday, though. I had the physical capability to open my mouth and carry on a conversation. I was actually always very interested in what he had to say. His ability to make me laugh is unparalleled. His insight, buried beneath a slightly cocky facade, is profound. Since college, I could tell he was making strides to better himself and improve his life. I respected that. I respect that.

But, timing is everything. And while I loved talking everyday, and hearing his voice, and laughing with him, something had to give. I mean, how long can you really talk to someone every day before residual emotions begin to evolve? I could not allow myself to slip back in - dare I say it - love. It was hard enough the first time. To fall so deeply... so hard... And to look up only to realize what you thought you were a part of was actually an intense, emotional, painful whirlwind of great conversations and brutal arguments; pure physical attraction and seething disgust; mutual admiration, quiet morning talks, inside jokes, endless texts, jealousy, envy, bickering and betrayal.

And yet, I can't let go.

After one year of apologies, arguments, rebounding and regressing, followed by one year of uninterrupted silence, we finally managed to pick up the pieces - most of them, at least - and try to be friends. It started slowly, and progressed into a comfortable stride. But, all of the talking, and texting, and e-mails just started to confuse me. Do platonic friends talk this often? I don't even talk to the bridesmaids this often... and they are the bridesmaids. I mean, if we're talking this much, and enjoying one another's company, why are we not moving beyond this point? Because I don't want to. I like things the way they are. And you don't want to. You're comfortable as well. Right? Right.

Right?

So he just stopped calling altogether. But that's not what I meant! "Not every day" doesn't mean "never". It - it just means, I need to take a step back and figure some things out! Why am I giddy when I see your name in my inbox "Mr. Platonic Friend"? And, why am I irritated when your "Miss Platonic Friend" is taking up our quality time? Who is she? How do you know her? I had to check myself: Self! Stop it. Chill out. Fall back. And go look up "platonic"...

::sighs::

So, he talks to someone else. Someone less complicated. Someone less consumed with her own thoughts, perfectly able to live in the moment. Someone without endless questions. Someone who doesn't share our messy history. It's fine. It's fine.

And, I can't be mad.

Very Politically Incorrect

Welp. It's official. In this election, absolutely ANYTHING goes.

I was a Hillary supporter. I had nothing against Obama, because I did ultimately vote for him in the state primary and will surely vote for him in November. I just liked Hillary better. Race aside. Gender aside. Hillary, in my humble opinion, was best prepared for the position. She had experience on Capitol Hill, in the White House, and in one of the most prominent states in our country. Furthermore, this was not a popularity contest nor was it Student Council. We were talking about the leader of the free world, and Hillary was fully capable of doing an outstanding job. She played hard in the Good Ol' Boys Club, and beat a lot of men at their own game. She held her own. For every negative any person ever offered against Hillary, I could find a positive.

She's a jaded, professional politician.

Um. When you apply for jobs, the HR rep expects that you have some sort of qualifications for the job for which you're applying. Even the manager of Micky D's had to serve a few fries here and there. So -because she gained noteworthy experience as First Lady of Arkansas and the United States, went on to run and win a seat as a US Senator, and continues to make countless strides on behalf of everyday people - she's jaded. Sounds more like "qualified" to me, but you can call it what you like.

Her husband disgusts me.

Is he running for office? I mean, if he were I'd vote for him too, but I'm pretty sure there are laws against him serving a third term. Not sure though, so I'll double check. People question how a woman can stay with cheating man, when the real question is this: what does him cheating have to do with the price of tea in China? Nothing. Did his little blow job affect your drinking water? Your health care? Your phone bill? Gas prices? Sub prime mortgage rates? Are you shaking your head? Yeah - what he did was actually irrelevant, even more so because he wasn't your husband. And don't even bring up that whole "perjury" nuisance. Cause if we EVER put Bush on the stand... (::shaking my own head::) never mind. If Hillary, Bill Clinton's wife, could forgive him, then I think we should all move on. Let's.

She cried during her campaign.

Excuse me. A quiver in her voice hardly qualifies as the sob story everyone made it out to be. When she's wearing pant suits and talking about the tough issues - she's too manly. If she hasn't gotten any sleep in weeks and shows an ounce of emotion at an informal press conference - she's an over-emotional, PMSing woman. Give. Me. A. Break. Meanwhile, Kevin Garnett and Paul Pierce are shedding tears left and right, barely speaking English after winning the 2008 Championship in game six. I guess they shouldn't plan on running for President anytime soon either. All that estrogen might get in their way.

She's a bitch.

Hell yeah she's a bitch! I love it! She's no-nonsense. She knows the ins and outs of our political system and works every angle to her own advantage. She has paid her dues and she's ready to cash in for the big promotion. Nice Girls Don't Get the Corner Office, you know (speaking of which - ladies, please add that book to your collection ). She's an amazing example of what hard work, due diligence, sound mind and ceaseless perseverance can do for a girl. Is she underhanded? Might be. Most politicians are, so I don't fault her for that. Is she the spawn of Satan? For some reason, people really seem to believe that. I can't help but laugh at how re-damn-diculas that sounds. People really hate this woman. And, why I don't fully understand why, I will repeat what someone once told me: the only reason a person will ever hate you is because you posses something that they lack. Gumption. Drive. Wherewithal. Prowess. Tenacity. Nimbleness... The woman stood up at the DNC on Tuesday and wholeheartedly endorsed her 19-month opponent as President of the United States of America. She did so with grace, poise and assuredness. She continued to focus on the tough issues facing our country, in efforts to unite our party and secure Democratic reign in the Oval Office. She did all of this with a smile on her face and sincerity in her voice. Even her clever, self-depreciating "sisterhood of the traveling pantsuits" joke had to have struck a chord with her still-undecided supporters. So, yeah, I guess those are reasons to declare her the offspring of Lucifer.

http://www.amazon.com/Nice-Girls-Dont-Corner-Office/dp/0446531324

To that end, while Republicans and Democrats alike were attacking Hills from both sides, calling for her to end her campaign prematurely, look at what HER hard work has provided - a Republican Vice Presidential nominee.

What. The. Ham-Sandwich.

This Palin woman is shamelessly riding on Hillary's coattails. She admits as much in her first public address in accepting McCain's nomination. How dare she?! Hillary did not endure as much as she did so that you - a two-bit exploitation of her hard work - could presumably secure a position as our country's first female Vice President. Boy, I'm just getting all sorts of riled up over here.

My friends (all Obama supporters from jump) suggest that we (Hillary supporters) are too smart to fall for a ploy such as this. Unfortunately, as much as I take pride in my own intelligence, I cannot speak for the other 18 million "cracks" in the now clichéed glass ceiling. Some women may really be swayed by McCain's blatant attempt to secure Hillary's leftovers. I was appalled to see "Clintons for McCain" posters in Denver this past week. Who is this dumb? Sarah Palin's politics aren't even CLOSE to Hillary's. She hasn't even finished one term as Governor! (And - I made the same criticism about Obama when he chose to run prior to finishing his first term as US Senator; I'm not making ANY exceptions on this point.)

I will say this - this haphazard decision will make for some interesting TV over the next two months. It's bound to be more entertaining/informative/outright ridicules than most programming in the 2008 fall line-up. The Single Aesthetic: tricking dumb Americans into keeping up with politics and casting a vote in November. THIS is what it has come to.

Perfection Breeds Contempt

My real problem is that I hold myself to a standard of perfection that I’m now realizing is unattainable. I am a complete wreck when things beyond my control take place, because it affects my ability to be “perfect”. In college, after participating in a pageant and joining an honors fraternity, I began to receive more attention than normal. After pledging a Greek letter org, that attention grew exponentially. By senior year, I might as well have been a local celebrity. And – that’s not to brag, it was just a reality – I was able to maintain a level of perceived “perfection” in most aspects of my life. Now, my personal life got a bit messy (to say the least), but in hindsight, I didn’t really mind that. I feel like personal lives should be just that – personal. Because, if you take a look into ANYBODY’S personal life, you will see some mess. I’ll leave it at that.

Right now, though, it’s incredibly difficult to maintain that level of perfection. And I won’t say that the standards were low in college – because they weren’t. It was probably harder to be “perfect” at an HBCU than it is at my job. Currently, because I have so little control, and feel the weight of so many of life’s pressures, I must say I’m really beginning to feel the burden. Every time I look up, something else is wrong. My check engine light is on, though I just took my car out of the shop. I’m finding difficulty in sticking to personal calendars I’ve set for longer-term goals (like business school). Every responsibility at my job is “urgent” and I never have enough time to catch up. How am I supposed to impress these people if, in their eyes, things are not getting done “perfectly” in an expedited manner? It’s stressful. My apartment is a mess. I’m not enjoying my roommate situation… but I can’t control that either. I can make strides to change what bothers me, but I can’t control another human being…

I am just finding it difficult to get back in stride with the life I’m accustomed to. I know that bumpy roads are a part of life, but all these pot holes and speed bumps I’m encountering on this long, uphill road are starting to do serious damage. I feel like I’m drifting farther and farther away from the concept of “perfection”. It is disconcerting to say the least.

Pastor, Are You Sure?

Between A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle and the scriptures from Sunday’s service, I am struggling to apply what I have learned to my everyday life.

I went to church looking for a Word. God must have heard my prayers, because he spoke directly to me this past Sunday. “Victory is achieved in the valley, not at the mountaintop,” the pastor proclaimed. “If we would deal with a crisis the way GOD would have us to, then everything would be okay.” So. True.

And yet, once instructed to turn to the corresponding biblical passage, many questions arose. The pastor began with Romans 7:14 – 25 dwelling particularly on verses 21 – 23 (or perhaps, those were the ones most poignant to me).

According to the New International Version, they read:

21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. 22 For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, 23 but I see in my members another law at war with he law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members.

The scripture is discussing the difference between our “self” that dwells in the Spirit, and our “self” that dwells in the flesh (which, to a degree, parallels Tolle’s differentiation of the “self” and the “ego”). Many of us (including me) all too quickly succumb to the wants and desires of the flesh, when we should ultimately spend all of our time in the Spirit. It is when we overcome our earthly, carnal needs that we can truly bask in the goodness of the Lord. We are liberated once we live in the Spirit, and not the flesh. God expects us to do this. He expects us to overcome our earthly desires, cease our sinning and exercise self-control. When we are living in the Spirit – without sin – we are as close to God as ever.

Two things:

1. If we are to live in the Spirit, without sin, we are bordering the concept of perfection, right? I mean, if we’re living without sin, that means we’re perfect. We’re not doing anything wrong. We’re living and practicing the Word of God. And yet, in childhood, I was taught that we were all sinners. We will all, ultimately, fall short. That’s not to say “don’t try”. Of course, we should rise each morning with our minds made up that we will do our best to follow God’s path for us. But, we are mortals. Try as we may, we will never be without sin. We will never be perfect.

2. I take real issue with that. Never mind some of the overly conservative preachings of the church (another post – I promise), but to preach that an individual can attain a sinless state (i.e.: perfection) is blatantly bogus. No one is perfect! No one ever will be! This suggestion is particularly bothersome to a young adult still struggling to find her path. The notion that perfection is attainable is… is a sobering falsity.

The pastor proposed that we can all control our words, our thoughts, our emotions, our eyes, our flesh, our actions, our habits, and thus, our future.

I concur – to a degree.


I can control my words.

I try to control my thoughts, but find it increasingly difficult. I think too much. I think thoroughly. I ask lots of questions. I theorize. I hypothesize. I ponder… One thought leads to 1000 more. It is what it is.

I cannot control my emotions. I’m pretty sure men can. I bet a handful of women can, too. I, however, cannot.

I can control my eyes.

I can control my flesh.

I can control my habits.

I can control my future! (Well, I can try to.)


I believe I am in control of my destiny. I know that the steps – and missteps – that I make today will impact tomorrow and afterwards. But, just because I apply for 100 jobs and nobody calls me back, does not mean I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain. Sometimes all of the “control” I exercise through my words, thoughts, actions, etc., still manages to get me nowhere.

I would like to see a husband in my future (the far, far away future – but future, no less). Exercising “control” over that goal means: I can date; I can keep in touch with ex-boyfriends; I can meet new guys, mingle at E.B.P. mixers, wine & dine, smile and bat my lashes… But, we all know that the “relationship status” is ultimately left to the man’s discretion. When HE is ready for one, it will be so. Clearly, I can’t control that either.

I get what the pastor was saying. We must exercise discipline in all of our life endeavors if we’re looking for favorable outcomes. And though nothing is promised, we are better equipped for success and God’s Glory when we have been disciplined and self-controlled.

I’m just saying…

We can strive for perfection, but we must realize we will never attain it.
And, I firmly believe we can control our destiny – though what we have in store for ourselves may not always align with what the Maker has in mind.

Thunderstorm Season

I think I’m slipping into a mild depression.

It’s also very cloudy outside. It’s perfect thunderstorm weather. I’m pretty sure Fay has something to do with it. You know Fay? She’s that schizophrenic tropical storm/hurricane/tsunami/apocalypse thing CNN keeps reporting about. She can’t seem to make up her mind (which is really interesting when you stop to think about it; she’s just a typical woman). Whatever the cause, I’m looking forward to a rainy, thundery, dark day. I think it will court my pseudo-depressive state nicely. And, about the depression – it’s not confirmed. I’m in talks with my inner self to determine what the ultimate problem is. I’ve been in an incredible funk for two weeks now. At first, I attributed it to PMS. I’m self-aware enough to recognize and appreciate the effect a surplus of estrogen can have on a girl’s daily life. But, this is something else. Usually my super-emotional state lasts for about three days. But, I’m still super-emotional and Aunt Flow has come and gone. Is this TMI? If you’ve been reading long enough, you should know that this blog is the most therapeutic release I have (aside from the thousands of playlists on my iPod), thus I kinda just have to put things out there sometimes…

Anywho. Nothing is going my way. This job search is a nightmare. It is a pure and total nightmare. Everyone is “pleased to meet me” and “amazed by my resume” but “sorry because they don’t have anything available at the moment.” Then there’s all the emotions. Where did they come from and when are they leaving? I’m kind of lonely. There are two perfectly nice men who have reached out to me in the past to weeks to hang out. I’ve been more than aloof with both of them. Why? I don’t know. I need to stop trippin’ and start dating some nice guys. It’s clear the object of my affection is completely oblivious, or unconcerned, or just plain unwilling to have anything to do with me. Ugh. My roommate situation is dire. We’re barely on speaking terms. A curt “hi” or “bye” is the totality of any exchange. And her BFF, who practically lives with us (grrr!) is not helping. Did she sign the lease too? I don’t recall seeing her signature. And shit, if she wants to move in, let her. More rent money I can keep in my pocket…

I got drunk last weekend with a bunch of college friends and, when leaving the club, assumed my football-statuesque friend could carry all 120 lbs of me. Welp. I was wrong. As I hopped on his back, he playfully (maybe purposely) lunged forward allowing me to completely fall – face first – into the pavement ahead of us. Face first. Now, I have a beautiful scar on my face. And arm. And elbows. And hands. Nice.

We were both drunk, so I can excuse the incident in itself. His reaction, however, was less than cherubic. He laughed and ran away while I was in pain on the ground. In the car ride home he never said a word to me. The next day, there was no call or text to verify that I was okay. When he came over to pick up our mutual friend (Dionne (one of the bridesmaids)) I politely closed my bedroom door to ignore him. I was growing increasingly self-conscious about my face, and didn’t care to interact with scar’s creator.

On top of that, I’ve been doing stupid things to compensate for my weird disposition – like charging Dolce and Gabbana pumps. Granted, I bought them at my favorite consignment boutique, and paid probably one quarter of their store value… but why am I using my “travel credit card” for non-travel expenses?! Stupid. Regardless, I put them on this morning to wear for the first time and I must admit: I feel fabulous.

Whatever.

So, with the job thing (or lack thereof), the loneliness thing, the roommate thing, the drunken facelift-gone-wrong, and the usual “I’m Dead Broke” situation are creating a mildly depressing, but powerful cocktail. Speaking of which… (!!)

I’m just kidding. Alcohol doesn’t fix problems. Apparently, it just creates new ones.

I’m going to pray about it… So much I’ll need some knee pads…










(It happened for a reason one can’t be mad
So know this know that everything’s cool
And yes I will be present on the first day of school
And graduation)





Aaaahhhhh how I digress!!! LOL

Sometimes

This is a song that makes me spill out all my guts, sometimes...

Sometimes
I wish I wasn't me, sometimes
I wish I was drug free, sometimes
I wish I saw the exit sign first, sometimes
I wish I knew the truth without searching, sometimes

I wish I could
Go where I never been
See what I never saw
Do what I never did
Or, walk before I could crawl, sometimes

I wish my eyes wasn't so red, sometimes
I wish I had breakfast in bed, sometimes
I mean, it's worth it since I did all the work last night...

Sometimes
You ain't good to me and
I am good to you
You don't see my intentions
The way that I do, sometimes

Hey Slim, you should be nicer than you are, sometimes
You take that complaining isht way too far
I mean, I thought it was cute in the beginning, but now
I think
That you only do it
'Cause you know I hate it, sometimes

You got me wishin' I didn't have home training, sometimes
Then it wouldn't hurt me so bad
When I dream of knocking you in your head
Then it wouldn't hurt me so bad
When I'm dishing my foot up your ass, sometimes

I wish I knew life with no pain
Wish I held the keys to this game, sometimes
I pretend 'cause I'm afraid to be, afraid to BE, sometimes
I hope I live to see twenty-five, sometimes
I wish I could be like Moses
Round up my people
Move out the ghetto
And live a better life, sometimes

I wish I didn't try so hard sometimes

Who knows truth anyway?
They don't know nothin' (never give in)
Who needs their approval?
The sun is in your hands, playa
Move at your own pace
Listen to your own mind
Do your own thing

I'm saying it because I love you
And I wanna grow with you baby
But you wanna run in the other direction
So
I got to stay on my path until

I win
I win
I win
I win

I wanna win
I wanna win
I wanna win
I wanna win

Sometimes
I wish in love
I wish in peace
I wish in hope
I wish true
I wish clear - I wish so clearly

Wish with no fear
I have no fear
Have no doubt
I don't doubt
Have no doubt
I wish love

Sometimes...