When Your Life Was Low

Always remember my friend
The world will change again
And you may have to come back
Through everywhere you've been

When your life was low
You had nowhere to go
People turned their backs on you
And everybody said that you were through

I took you in, made you strong again
Put you back together
Out of all the dreams you left along the way
You left me shining

Now you're doing well
From stories I hear tell
You own the world again
Everyone's your friend

Although I never hear from you
Still it's nice to know
You used to love me so
When your life was low

Always remember my friend
The world will change again
And you may have to come back
Through everywhere you've been

Now you're doing well
From stories I hear tell
You own the world again
Everyone's your friend

Although I never hear from you
Still it's nice to know
You used to love me so
When your life was low

Always remember my friend
The world will change again
And you may have to come back
Through everywhere you've been

You used to love me so
When your life was low
You used to love me so
When your life was low
You used to love me so
When your life was low














Simply. Perfect.

Clutch Players

"When someone shows you who they are, believe them."
~Maya Angelou

I will say this. My friends, for all of their weaknesses, and even in light of recent events... they come through in the clutch. They're there when it matters. They pick me up when I fall. And, even when I haven't fallen... and just feel deeply disappointed in someone, or something for that matter... they stay down for the cause. Whatever I need. They are there. I'm so, so blessed.

I wish I could say the same for the boy. It's officially over. No more back and forth. No more obsessive blogging. No more denial. No more wishing, dwelling, pleading, or crying. I'm done. And you know, it's not even as emotional of a departure as it could be. I've been through this before. I'm still alive. I have the capacity to keep going, and I will. He's just not that into me. He met someone, and wants to explore what it's about. While his initial statement on Thursday was not as forthcoming as it should have been, it was an attempt (albeit halfhearted and pathetic) at honesty. It took a phone call with Dionne to get the true story. It took a follow up call with the boy to hear him say it himself. He's a tricky little man. He didn't volunteer any information. But, I knew the right questions to ask, and got the information I needed from him. I'm not as mad at him as I am at the situation. The words were hard to hear. But, I'm glad they were said.

He's selfish. Plain and simple. He wanted to reap the benefits of our "thing" and pursue other possibilities at the same time. He thought his "quick chat" on Thursday was the out that he needed, telling himself "at least I was honest with her," when in reality, it was just the tip of the iceberg. He didn't mention that she had been to his hometown in recent weeks to see him. He didn't mention that she lived in New York. He didn't mention he'd be seeing her in DC that weekend. And, when we spoke yesterday, he had NO intentions of telling me how serious their courting actually was. Nope. He was going to keep me in the dark. Until when? ::sighs::

Fool me twice, shame on me.

I'm keeping it together, though. I'm upset, don't get me wrong, but I'm not devastated. I'm not irate. I'm just really, really disappointed. I know this is for the best. I know that I can do better. I know that I WILL do better. I deserve it. I really do. I just wish it hadn't come to this so soon... you know? I was enjoying it. But, it is when we are most uncomfortable that we achieve the most growth. And, boy, this young man is teaching me life lessons and growing me up SO fast. It's hard staying strong. It's hard staying mature. I'd really like to find his social security number and ufck up his credit. I'd like to throw something. I'd like to punch somebody in the face.

In lieu of those fancy ideas, I'm just going to sit here at my work computer, pretending to plow through this ever-mounting pile of work on my desk... and smile. I'll smile, and be polite to others in the hall, and laugh loudly at cubeside jokes, and gchat with my clutch friends, and update my status frequently to show that I'm cool. The constant updates might be a little OD, but it's okay. I deserve at least one recuperation day.

Deep breaths.

Deep breaths.

This is just a bump in the road. I've asked God for "signs I can see" so that I'm clear I'm moving in the right direction. (Sometimes, when I just ask God for "a sign" I manage to overlook it). And, ta-da! God comes through in the clutch too! During drinks last night with Anisa, a guy friend of mine walked in (randomly) and we caught up, which was great. Exchanged numbers and everything. He will surely be a fun friend for the summer. This morning, while driving to work, another guy friend sent me a text to say he saw me driving and just wanted to say "hi". We're going to see Bilal this Saturday in concert, so his text was timely and definitely lifted my spirits. Finally, I reached back out to Lewis (remember dude who lives in NY?) and he'll be visiting me in the weeks to come. :-)

I'm smiling. I'm moving forward. And, I will be okay.







And speaking of the clutch... Go Boston.

Loyalty. Maturity.

I try really hard. Too hard, sometimes. I think.

My weekend was really peaceful, which was great. I did what I said I'd do (for the most part) and separated myself from my best friends. Friday night I went out with a new group of friends, and partied hard. After confiding in one of my platonic male friends about "peaks and valleys" in my life at the moment, he took it upon himself to buy liquor and open his apartment for a pre-game all in my honor. "That's what friends do," he said. Aw.

Saturday was jam-packed. Sorority meeting at 10. Take Ruby to the art museum at 12. Have her back to her mom by 3. Nap until 6. Babysit until 11. Finish gifts for my newest neo for the rest of the night!

Sunday was amazing. Great weather. Great friends. I woke up and went to church, had brunch with a group of Teach for America friends at West Egg, and killed time until a 4:00 movie with yet ANOTHER platonic male friend. Afterwards he treated me to ice cream, and we headed back to his place to watch the playoffs. Melanie stopped by and, of course, spent the entire evening yammering about needing a new job... but I let the Cabernet sink in and successfully ignored her comments regarding work. For the most part, it was quite pleasant. At times, though, it was a bit tedious.

And, in hindsight, it makes me wonder how upset I can really be with the boy - seeing as how I clearly have growing number of "just friends" in my life too. It should go without saying that my curiosity has peaked on more than one occasion, but I've always managed to silence those fleeting thoughts out of loyalty to him.

Loyalty. Hm.

The concept of loyalty (which I believe, in my situation at least, stems from a prevailing influence of maturity) seems to be rearing it's ugly little head in every mildly confusing life scenario I encounter. I'm not dating other men because I want to remain loyal to the boy. Even if I WANTED to explore curiosity with one young man in particular, I wouldn't be able to out of loyalty to a girlfriend of mine... Though they dated years and years ago, crossing that line is taboo and forsaken. I might as well kill myself if I think toying with their history won't end badly.

Loyalty naturally plays a huge role in my ever-complicated friendships as well. I bend over backwards for my best friends out of loyalty to them, though many are so blinded by their own problems that they fail to extend the same courtesy to me.

And perhaps, in all actuality, the bigger issue really is maturity. In a late-night convo with my Mommy yesterday, we discussed the discord in many of my current relationships. I'm emotionally exhausted. The maintenance of these friendships is taking a toll, and leaving me to foot the bill. But, are the problems rooted in personality differences, or just plain maturity? Do I perceive the world differently, and handle stress in a certain manner, because I'm a little wiser than my peers? Does being the oldest child play a role? Do the stars and astrology play a role? Has my upbringing and exposure to various cities, towns and countries have anything to do with it?


Well, of course it does. As an oldest child, I was called upon to help raise Paris and MB. As a Pisces, I'm naturally more sensitive and in-tune with people and things around me. Pisces are said to possess a "natural understanding of things around them" which I thoroughly believe in and agree with. And, sheer exposure to new places and cultures undoubtedly molds individuals for the better - teaching tolerance and the ability to adapt. Truth be told, I think I've always been a bit more mature than my peers. It seems, however, to more of an issue now that I am older.

Indeed, the culmination of all of these factors has created the person I am today. It's a shame that, for all the beauty to be found in this revelation, that said maturity proves to be a help and hindrance simultaneously. I cannot really relate to your extensive indecisiveness, my friend. For a moment - yes; for weeks on end - no. I cannot understand your compulsive need to be the center of attention. If we're performing "Les Sylphides" for an audience - yes; if we're drinking and watching basketball - no. I don't understand your obsessions with shopping or dining out. And, I don't understand why you'd even think to put our friendship in jeopardy. Not now. Not ever.

Loyalty and maturity: lofty to strive for... harder to maintain.

I found myself getting a little jumpy this morning, too. Though I had managed to set my mind at ease over the weekend, I was back to my old self at 9 am. I was busy worrying, contemplating, analyzing, rationalizing, sighing, stressing, and facebook stalking. This huge frenzy - and for what? I can not control him. I cannot control any of the bridesmaids either. All I can do is control how I am affected by them. Taking a step back proved effective for a weekend, but how was I going to sustain that peace of mind? It's impossible, really, because I need to address each of them on an individual basis. But I don't want to... just yet. Well. I do want to address the boy. And I have a laundry list of things to say, questions to ask... overall pleas for understanding. And what if the end result is disappointing? What then? Am I making too big a deal of this? He just said "he met someone" and I'm over here planning their honeymoon. I need to chill.

Ugh. The internal back-and-forth could go on forever. It's time for me to stop sacrificing my happiness for others. It's time to start putting me first. I've been too loyal to others for far too long. Time to be loyal to me.

Time to be loyal to me. It might not sound like a "mature" sentiment... but I assure you that it is.

Spanish Joint

Whenever it rains, I feel this way
A little something to get me through this day
Give me a little of that
No time flat
Gonna be a good thing

Serene but in need of feelin’ free
Letting go and landing on my feet
Brushed the dirt off my back
No time flat
Gonna be a good thing

Well people believe this saying is true
“Whatever will be, will forever do”
Whatever the cost, I'll pay in full
I ain't got nothin’ to do with you

Gotta get out, gotta get out of here
I'm in the dark, and the light looks sincere
Brushed the dirt off my back
No time flat
Gonna be a good thing

All you do is complain about your pain
And the cloud that follows you won't cease to rain
Don’t look back; Handle that
Make it into a good thing

Something up in me gotta be
Sole controller in control of me
A link in your chain, just won't do
I don't want nothin' to do with you

Something up in me gotta be
Sole controller in control of me
A link in your chain, just won't do
I don't want nothin' to do with you

Some people believe this saying is true
“Whatever will be, will forever do”
Whatever the cost, I'll pay in full
I ain't got nothin’ to do with you

I don’t want nothin’ to do with you
I don’t want nothin’ to do with you

Right As Rain

Who wants to be right as rain
It's better when something is wrong
You get excitement in your bones
And everything you do's a game
When night comes
And you're on your own
You can say “I chose to be alone”
Who wants to be right as rain
It's harder when you're on top

Cause when hard work don't pay off
And I'm tired
There ain’t no room in my bed
As far as I'm concerned so
Wipe that dirty smile off we
Won't be making up
I've cried my heart out
And now I've had enough of love

Who wants to be riding high
When you'll just crumble back on down
You give up everything you are
And even then you don't get far
They make believe that everything
Is exactly what it seems
But at least when you're at your worst
You know how to feel things

See, when hard work don't pay off
And I'm tired
There ain't no room in my bed
As far as I'm concerned so
Wipe that dirty smile off we
Won't be making upI've cried my heart out
And now I've had enough of love

Go ahead and steal my heart to make me cry again
Cause it will never hurt as much as it did then, when
We were both right and no one had blame
But now I give up on this endless game

Cause who wants to be right as rain
It's better when something is wrong
I get excitement in my bones
Even though everything's a strain
When night comes and I'm on my own
You should know I chose to be alone
So who wants to be right as rain
It's harder when you're on top

Cause when hard work don't pay off
And I'm tired
There ain't no room in my bed
As far as I'm concerned so
Wipe that dirty smile off we
Won't be making up
I've cried my heart out
And now I've had enough of...

No room in my bed
As far as I'm concerned so
Wipe that dirty smile off we
Won't be making up
I've cried my heart out
And now I've had enough of love

Extraordinary Machine

I certainly haven't been shopping for any new shoes
-And-
I certainly haven't been spreading myself around
I still only travel by foot and by foot, it's a slow climb
But I'm good at being uncomfortable
So I can't stop changing all the time

I notice that my opponent is always on the go
-And-
Won't go slow, so's not to focus, and I notice
He'll hitch a ride with any guide
As long as they go fast from whence he came
But he's no good at being uncomfortable, so
He can't stop staying exactly the same

If there was a better way to go then it would find me
I can't help it, the road just rolls out behind me
Be kind to me, or treat me mean
I'll make the most of it, I'm an extraordinary machine

I seem to you to seek a new disaster every day
You deem me due to clean my view and be at peace and lay
I mean to prove I mean to move in my own way, and say
I've been getting along for long before you came into the play

I am the baby of the family, it happens, so
Everybody cares and wears the sheeps' clothes while they chaperone
Curious, you looking down your nose at me, while you appease
Courteous, to try and help, but let me set your mind at ease

If there was a better way to go then it would find me
I can't help it, the road just rolls out behind me
Be kind to me, or treat me mean
I'll make the most of it, I'm an extraordinary machine

Do I so worry you, you need to hurry to my side?
It's very kind
But it's to no avail; I don't want the bail
I promise you, everything will be just fine

If there was a better way to go then it would find me
I can't help it, the road just rolls out behind me
Be kind to me, or treat me mean
I'll make the most of it, I'm an extraordinary machine

If there was a better way to go then it would find me
I can't help it, the road just rolls out behind me
Be kind to me, or treat me mean
I'll make the most of it...
I'm an extraordinary machine















Amen.

Peaks and Valleys

I’m liable to punch somebody in the face.

If I have learned anything from my mother in the past few weeks, it’s this: do not let people stress you out. Initially, I interpreted this epiphany to mean “do not let co-workers, employers, colleagues stress you out.” Lately, though, I’ve had to amend my interpretation to include friends. In all honesty, I’m finding my friends, collectively, to be some of the neediest, most selfish, least sensitive people I know. Oh yes, they are sensitive to their own needs, but they rarely extend the same genuine sensitivity to the people around them. Each of the bridesmaids has managed to lay at least one of their burdens on my shoulders. One invited herself to my home for a weekend, though I would have much preferred to spend two days alone. Though I enjoy her spirit and humor on most occasions, there are some instances when I just want to be alone. Last weekend was one of those times. When she returned home, she got into a car accident and I was compelled to follow up and ensure that she was physically and mentally well. In days following, she placed me on a party-planning committee for her sister’s line-sister. Why am I helping to plan a party for a person I don’t even know? And why do you assume that I don’t already have enough to do? That’s insensitive. Though I love her dearly, this is the same person who once chastised me for not following up with her when her grandfather’s health was failing. At the time, she would sit and talk with me for hours on end about the man in her life and how he wouldn’t take out the trash. In my mind, I was lead to believe this was the priority in her life. It was only weeks later, when she sent a lengthy e-mail to me about her grandfather did I learn that she was livid that I hadn’t once asked about his health. To me, it seemed as though she would have brought this up at least ONCE in our conversations about garbage duty, if it were actually important. Don’t get me wrong, the health of one’s family is always a priority. But how do I know to inquire when you make no reference to the situation. Ask me how many times she has followed up with me about the health of my mother? Exactly. Insensitive.

Another, God bless her, is moving here for a summer internship with a local law firm. I’m proud of her, and want to be supportive, especially since both of her parents have been in and out of the hospital lately. I’ve taken time out of my day to help research and even visit condos and apartments where she could potentially sublease for the summer months. I’ve calculated the distances from said apartments to her future job to ensure she’s close enough that her commute is not a burden. These are not things that I had to do. But, I did them because I love her and I try really hard to be a good friend. I’m not even angry with her about the situation, because I volunteered myself for it. But it is yet another instance where I’ve extended myself, and bent over backwards for a friend that might not necessarily have done the same for me were she in my position.

A third bridesmaid has been somewhat of an emotional mess lately. I’ve tried as hard as I could to be supportive with phone calls, text messages, and even a casual drive by her apartment just to check on her. Unfortunately, she’s the type to cut the world off when she’s deeply emotional, leaving me to question if she’s truly okay. She picks and chooses when to answer the phone, or even be responsive for that matter. So, when I finally do get a positive response, I feel compelled to oblige her every whim. She wants to come over to chat? Sure! She may need to talk and get some things out. She wants to drink tonight? Okay, let me reorganize my schedule to accommodate her. She’s feeling sad? Let me put down what I’m doing for a sec to console her. But wait, on instances when I need to talk, or want to drink, or want to just sit quietly with a friend – she’s busy. She has plans with her on-again-off-again guy friend. She’s with a co-worker. She’s asleep. Well, what am I to do then? Do I continue to try AS HARD AS I CAN or do I start to let go? It seems as though everyone else is putting themselves first. When will I learn to do that for me?

The final bridesmaid hates her job. Join the club honey, we all do. She hates it so much so, that every conversation she participates in eventually winds up focused on her and how she can change career paths. I helped her review her resume at a happy hour. A HAPPY HOUR. You know, where everyone else is eating, drinking and being merry? Yeah, one of those. That’s how serious it is… to her. And, because it’s serious to her, it MUST be serious to everyone else. After a 20-minute pep talk, she’s usually able to move the conversation along to what’s going on in everyone else’s life, with an occasional mention of her disdain for her job here and there. But the bottom line is that she cannot remove herself far enough from her thoughts about work to enjoy the joys of life that are taking place around her. That’s selfish. I realize that we are all dealing with stress, and handling it differently – but does everyone else realize this same truth? YOU are not the only person going through something. You’re not the only person in a valley. You’re not the only person who is stressed. Allow yourself to listen to others for a change, without consistently redirecting every conversation to a problem that you are having. At the very least, say you’ll give it a try.

Finally, there’s the boy. I had confided in him that I was feeling this way about my friends, and he really took this to heart. He called me last night to reiterate that he loved me, and that he valued our friendship, and that he couldn’t bear to think about us ever “not speaking” or “taking a year off” as we have done in the past. He told me I was “quietly becoming the best friend he had.” He followed that sentiment by telling me he had met someone. He met someone. Nothing has happened between the two of them, and he’s not even sure anything ever will. But, he was intrigued by this girl, and wanted to be upfront and honest with me about it. I could appreciate that. It showed growth from the last time we had been in this situation. And yet, this is just one more burden to me. He is another person in my life who is reaping all the benefits of our friendship, and I’m the one crying myself to sleep at night for having fallen in love again. It’s not his fault. I was the one being patient, and accepting that he didn’t want a girlfriend, and helping him with career moves, and listening to him vent, and trying to cheer him up, and daydreaming about him all day, and talking with him late at night … and for what? I tricked myself into believing that we were building something. I tricked myself into believing that if I could just wait it out… if I could just hold on… that I could finally get what I wanted from him, which was a relationship. But that’s just it! I can’t seem to hold onto him! I’ve never been able to do that. Maybe I never will.

Meanwhile, while I was doing all of this so-called “building”, he too was establishing a strong and stable friendship with me. A friendship that he truly valued and could not see himself without. One that had “perks” that was cool, and enjoyable, and fun, and passionate, and deep. And yet, in all reality, who knew when we would ever live in the same city again? He accepted that I might meet someone else, and did not shy away from the opportunity to do the same. He claims his honesty about “meeting someone” derived from him not wanting to “fuck me over.” He didn’t want to ruin what we have. But, he couldn’t deny that there was someone else who had caught his eye. The end result: he has a best friend whom he loves and doesn’t want to lose… and I have yet another broken heart.

Everyone is so wrapped up in their own problems, and so complacent with the fact that they have my shoulder to lean on, that they’ve neglected to actually be my friend. I need a shoulder too. And I’m pissed about it. I’m livid, really. Perhaps it’s my own fault for not speaking up sooner… but what the fuck? I can’t get a word in edgewise when everyone is whining, complaining, and sobbing about their lives. I can’t get a word in edgewise when people don’t pick up the phone either. So, I’m over it. I’m taking time off from the people I love the most. With tears in my eyes, and a truly heavy heart, I am wiping my hands clean of every burdensome situation that is transpiring with every loved one in my life.

Fuck you.
Goodnight.

Is Work Worth It?

My mom had a biopsy last week.

It worried me. She had been rushed to the emergency room a few weeks prior for stomach and back aches. It had gotten to the point where she just couldn't handle the pain. So, one Sunday morning, in lieu of heading to church, she and my father headed to the ER at 8 am. They stayed there for twelve hours. They sat in the waiting room, sat there for tests, more waiting, and eventually she was sent back home. It was two days after I turned 25, actually. Happy Birthday to me.

Today she learned she had an extremely mild version of lymphoma. Cancer. My mom could potentially have cancer. Both of Corinne's parents have been battling with the disease, her mother first, and her father now. I always knew that she was a strong young lady, but now I have completely new perspective. With even the MENTION of my mother potentially having cancer, I'm in tears.

"Mom," I pry. "Have you gotten a second opinion?"
"No, not yet," she says. "I just got the results today, so I need to find out about medicine or treatment."
"So, you went to the doctor's office, he told you that you had this, but you didn't discuss treatment?" I ask, bewildered.
"No," she says, "I just talked to the surgeon on the phone."
"Okay, so what's next. When is your follow up appointment? When do you get medicine? When do you start treating this?" I ask, belting out questions as soon as they occur to me.
"Well, I called today to move my appointment up," she says wearily.
"Alright, and then..." I begin again.
"But, it's really not that serious. It's not cancer, it's just a really mild form of... well... it's just an inflammation of the lymph nodes. But Imma call you back. I want to see the end of this movie," she says, calmly.
"Alright, mom. I love you," I sigh. We hang up.

Cancer.

In the midst of the overall conversation, we discuss how stressful the past few days for me have been at work. In the midst of my manager's marriage-planning, she had managed to dump all of her work on me. During her two-week honeymoon, I would be performing a nice portion of her manager duties on my coordinator salary. Great.

"DON'T LET THEM RUN YOU RAGGED," my mom exclaimed. "You know, you get caught up in trying to do everything right, and do it all at once, and you're just tired and stressed all the time. I've been doing that for the past 20-plus years. I've been stressed, and having stomach aches, and I've been tired. And now, look what I have to show for it," she sighed.

"I'm just not built that way," I say. "I don't know how to not try," I realize.

"People with no stress live a lot longer," she chuckled. "So, you prioritize your work, and you just do what you can do. When you leave, they'll probably hire someone else and pay them more to do less. So, don't stress. Do your best, and don't worry about it. Do NOT let them run you ragged."

Preach, Mom. Preach. Before we hung up, she mentioned that she was ready to retire. Why not? Two kids out of school, and one kid with a few years left. "Good for her," I thought.

Work is not worth my health, or my mom's for that matter. I'm going to have to keep that top of mind from now on...

Kanye said "giving up is way harder than trying" with which I agree... But work is just not worth it.

The Cost of Control

Making the decision to become a homeowner is a big one. Some people choose to live with their parents until marriage, when they are thereafter forced to move out. Some people rent their homes, but never really experience the triumphs (and tribulations) of living on their own. But many of us reach an age where we make the choice to move away from the protection of our parents, buy a home, and deal with the consequences (be they positive or negative) of being a homemaker. Some make this decision at an early age. Others wait until the time is “just right”. Regardless, the choice is a big one.

I chose to buy my own place awhile ago, and I’ve never really appreciated the effort that goes into running a household until now. I used to think that homemakers had it so easy. I mean, all they had to do was keep the place in order, monitor household visitors and guests, and budget for household expenses. But, I could not have been more wrong. Keeping a house in order is more elaborate (and costly) than I could have ever imagined…

First, there’s the issue of orderliness. As a self-diagnosed control freak, I understand the necessity of order. For example, the front lawn should always be well-manicured. That’s not to say you have to hire someone to trim the hedges every week, but come on. Nobody likes weeds tumbling into the driveway or onto the street. Additionally, everything has its place. When you have company, it’s not their place to rearrange your furniture and leave your home a hot mess. You run your home, and anyone who disrespects your household rules can kindly kick rocks. Once you’ve managed to make that differentiation, and properly invited guests have made their way to your place, know that they should leave your home exactly the way they found it. There shouldn’t be any holes in the walls or scratches on the cabinetry when they leave unless YOU put them there. Never should you walk around your home wondering “how did that get there…?” Not a good look. Make sure these guests take with them everything they came with too. I mean, unless you’ve planned a housewarming, your guests shouldn’t be leaving any little presents behind... No one wants to contract new painters, handymen, plumbers and the like for damage to your precious home. It’s costly, time-consuming, and downright annoying. Where do these guests get off ruining your house anyway? And the kitchen! Until you have a recipe and all proper utensils, there’s really no need to bake anything, now is there?

I digress.

Then, there are the recurring visitors who just pop up whenever they damn well please. Yeah, she makes an appointment with you, but how often does she really stick to it? Not only is she intrusive and annoying – but she’s the kind of guest that you HAVE to entertain for your own good. The alternative of her not showing up at all is truly terrifying, so most of us just welcome the cruel old bat for her weeklong stay and keep it moving.

Accounting for this visitor is an expense that I believe God should have created an account for. Every homemaker should have a separate bank account for “household visitors” that is granted to her at birth. Seriously. Not only do you have to buy your visitor blankets and pillows, but if you go above and beyond, you have to spend even more cash on making sure she keeps her regularly-scheduled appointments. You have to buy her an expensive-ass, leather, hand stitched, embroidered, top-of-the-line day-planner so she remembers when it’s her turn. Give me a break.

Then there’s the stress of picking a roommate. Someone you can share your home with. It can be such an emotional, stressful process that you sometimes wonder if you really even need one. But, of course you do. Living life alone is no way to live. So, you conduct countless interviews, review resumes, and sift through endless applications for the perfect person. Never mind the fact that each of these applicants has interviewed with multiple homemakers in your neighborhood; YOU need a roommate. Some applicants may be interested in your home and your home only. They’re probably corny, though. Some applicants may have interviewed with every homemaker in the country. They’re probably the kind that leaves unwanted presents in your yard – so stay away from them. Then, there are some applicants who have done their share of interviews, but are really interested in just finding a good match. They like your house the way it is… and will only make beneficial changes to the landscaping and infrastructure, if any at all. Their contributions to your home will allow the property to appreciate in value. As your home ages, the weathered roof and sun-beaten paint will still look good. It will mean your house is really a home. Your #1 applicant probably won’t be perfect. You may have to make compromises. You may have to ignore the fact that other homemakers on your street secretly hate your guts for securing him. You might have to negotiate your rates. And you’ll definitely have to adapt to the new roommate’s lifestyle. But, you endure the tedious, tiresome, fulfilling and sometimes exhilarating process to get to that person. You have no other choice.

The application process ain’t cheap, though. The energy invested in conducting countless interviews knows no dollar amount. And balancing that process, along with houseguests, and overall house maintenance is practically a full-time job. Controlling the emotional, financial and practical elements of running a home is indeed a laborious chore. But, knowing that the choices we make now are for the betterment of our future far outweighs the minor daily (or monthly) annoyances…

So, let me get back to my homemaker duties for the day. This leather-bound day-planner goes back on the bookshelf until tomorrow. And, this short stack of roommate applications could stand to be organized, I guess. There’s this one applicant who’s been on more than a few interviews in the neighborhood. His background isn’t squeaky clean, and he makes no apologies for it. I’ve been staring at his resume for a few years now. Can’t seem to put it down…

Go Fish

The final weekend of March was a doozy. Melanie turned 25 on Friday, March 27th. The boy turned 25 of March 28th. Divvying up my time wouldn’t be too difficult…right? I spent Thursday night with Melanie, her family and close friends over dinner at South City Kitchen. I was supposed to meet up with her on Friday night as well, but the boy had just gotten here, and I was supposed to meet him at the Wale concert in midtown. There are never enough hours in the day. Suffice it to say; once I saw the boy in the sweaty, hole-in-the-wall venue, he never left my sight. Wale’s lyrics over hypnotic go-go beats reminded us both of DC and college. It was nostalgia at it’s finest. Guess I wasn’t going to make it to Aja for Melanie’s bday drinks. I could only hope that she would understand!!

Saturday morning I woke up and made him breakfast. His phone buzzed throughout the afternoon from with “Happy Birthday” texts and calls. On occasion he would answer and have a quick chat with the well-wisher, but he was mostly distracted with food, mimosas, mid-day naps and lounging around the apartment. It felt so natural to have him around. We did end up getting into a minor tiff in the late afternoon. But it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be resolved with a kiss. As he showered, I gave myself a pep talk – making myself snap out of the somber mood our conversation had just put me in. As he exited the bathroom, I moved right past him to wash away my annoyance at our conversation. I appreciated that he wanted to be fully honest with me about his previous relationships (explaining away the David Yurman comment from December, and elaborating more than I cared for him to). But there are some things a girl just doesn’t need to hear. As I bathed, he peeked around the shower curtain with puppy dog eyes. Apology accepted.

We got dressed, and headed to the Downtown Hilton to meet with some of his friends who were around for a fraternity regional conference. The initial pleasantries were nice enough. All but one of us had gone to college together, so clearly none of us were strangers. After small talk and banter about the Elite Eight and the status of our respective NCAA brackets, I guess the guys decided lightheartedly aggravate me. I was the only girl around, so naturally I was an easy target. “Damn, we live in the same city and I haven’t seen you in ages… I guess you don’t fool with me, huh?” said one of the guys. A playful comment, of course… but not one I was willing to entertain that evening. Granted, he and I did live in the same city, and we were cool, but he was right. I hadn’t seen him in ages. To me though, it wasn’t a big deal. We lived in a big city and the phone worked both ways.

“What do you mean?!” I jokingly replied back, hoping it would end there. Nope. He decided to run down dates of the last times we had seen each other, and then drew the striking conclusion that I “didn’t care about him…” or something. Well, honey, I hate to break your heart, but what the hell are you even talking about? What do I need to say so that we can end this conversation as quickly as possible? “You’re right! I’m a complete bitch. Come sit in my lap and let mama make it better.” No? “My goodness! Where has my mind been? I forgot you were the ruler of the universe and that I needed you in my life!!! Silly me.” Or… “Forget that my boo is over here – you know, your friend that’s sitting right across from us – give me your number again and we can chat this over when he falls asleep tonight.”

Give me a break. The victim role just does not sit well with me. “You haven’t called,” “I haven’t seen you,” and “you don’t fool with me,” are phrases that, I’ll admit, do have their place in life… just not amongst mutual friends to whom you barely spoke in college and with whom you have very little in common. Fishing for minor compliments so that your frail ego can boost itself up is transparent and pathetic. Come on. The thing is, the exact same scenario played out in Miami a few weeks ago. Another guy friend from college was attempting to give me a major guilt trip for not calling enough and not making enough of an effort to see him while I was in town. Who do I look like? I am not pressed about you fools. Grow up.

I know this is just a cute little game guys play to essentially say “we should hang out,” or “it’s good to see you again.” But why not use your grown up words and say just that: we should hang out! It’s good to see you again! I’d be a lot nicer in my responses if that were the case. Instead, I have to play along until I’m unnerved enough to finally roll my eyes and tell these minions to move the conversation along.

What if I just said “you’re right, I don’t care about you… now let’s have a nice little evening and not speak again until the next time I see you, okay?” Pah! I wonder how they would feel then. Who knows. For now, I’ll just resort to this statement: Sweetheart, I’m not sure what you’re looking for by making those comments… but I’m pretty sure I don’t have the answers you’re looking for. Go Fish.

Oh, the Places You'll Go

So I mentioned that March was a busy month. Coupled with the ongoing grind of working 9+ hours each day, I was overdue for some R&R and what better excuse than celebrating 25? Though I had taken my actual bday off, I decided it was necessary to take off every other Friday in the month of March as well. O.D. The next weekend, I was jetsetting to Chicago to see my friend Matthew in yet another play. This man is going places. And, I’m not just saying that because he was my best bud in high school, and continues to make me laugh to this day. I’m saying it because he’s a truly talented artist who will one day grace the stage of Saturday Night Live and introduce the world to an insightful but playful humor that I’ve known since the 7th grade.

“Maybe, Baby, It’s You,” was a poignant look at a series of love stories. This montage of vignettes captured a variety of scenarios ranging from awkward high school crushes, to over-the-top wedding ceremonies. One of my favorite stories involved a seasoned couple watching their grandson play baseball at a local park. Though they were separated, they still managed to find that the same things that made them fight inevitably made them smile. Love is so powerful. Catch some of the reviews here: http://www.cheekychicago.com/maybe-baby-its-you/ and http://www.steadstylechicago.com/maybebaby.htm. It didn’t hurt that the cozy venue allowed us to purchase and sip beer as we enjoyed the show. Matthew’s assembly of high school and college friends (me included) hooted and hollered throughout the play. I’m sure that contributed to at least one positive review, as a local magazine writer was there for opening night just as we were. The energy in the Shakespearian theater was magnetic – full of lighthearted but thoughtful skits that truly captivated each member of the audience.

In the days that followed, we celebrated St. Patrick’s Day by watching the city dye the river green, and then drank ourselves into a frenzy. We consumed lots of college basketball as well, as each conference was in the midst of their respective tournaments. I met up with two of my dad’s sisters (one of whom I had not seen since I was 10) for dinner and lots of catching up. All the excitement of Friday and Saturday had drained me to the point that I collapsed on one aunt’s hotel bed, not to awake until the next morning. Sunday was restful. I retreated back to Matthew’s place to pack up my things, and give him one last hug. “We have to do this again soon!” I beamed. I had not had that much fun in a while.

The next weekend, it was time for a tan. To South Beach went! Lucy, Anisa, one of Anisa’s co-workers and I made our way to one of the most exotic and exhilarating cities in the country for four nights of debauchery… or so we had hoped. Anisa’s godfather picked us up from the airport, and sped us home to his and his wife’s picturesque mansion for a quick change and a few shots. Yes – Anisa’s godparents watch us drink their alcohol, and then hand us their car keys to do what we will for the rest of the night. No, for real… like, they are just that cool.

Thursday night kicked off nicely enough. We ended up at some random bar on the strip, and danced the night away on stage with the DJ. It was magical. While I halfway noticed the hundreds of eyes watching me pulsate and grind to every song, I was more in love with the three other young ladies on stage with me – flipping their hair, snapping pictures, and winding their hips just like me. So. Fun.

Friday was amazing. Lots of sun, ice cold ocean waves, and handfuls of college spring breakers to liven the beach. The night began with lots of potential. We pre-gamed in the kitchen, trying to determine which spot would be the most fun for the evening. We ended up at a cool enough place… early enough to hear the music DJs typically play before the crowd gets live. We were all a little bored by it, but had no other real alternatives… We left anyway. That decision ended up being a mistake. After about 30 minutes of walking around, the girls were antsy and ready to go home. Everyone except Anisa, that is.

It was kind of all downhill from there. I suppose everyone's expectations of the trip were different, thus making plans (and actually executing them) was difficult. I was perfectly content tanning all day, drinking all night, and chilling all around. I think Anisa, though, wanted to go hard and PARTY the entire time. For some reason, estrogen has a hard time compromising… especially when four female minds are at odds. To that end, Saturday was a blur. Though we had hustled our way into one of the hottest night clubs in the city, and danced our asses off for a number of hours, there was still more fun to be had. Some of us were down to keep going; others of us were just ready to go home. Tension began to build, and came to a head that night. In short, I learned a lot of things about my dear friend – some of which I’m still trying to digest.

Traveling, sometimes, is about more than reaching a new geographic location. It becomes a catalyst for voyages we take within our actual friendships. I went to Chicago to watch Matthew – and ended up actually seeing him. I saw a handsome, accomplished, driven young man, with whom I’ve shared many memories and will undoubtedly create many more. I traveled to South Beach to kick it with my girls – and wound up wading though the depths of Anisa’s troubled heart. It’s insane the façade a girl can keep up. I was astonished to learn so much about one of my BEST FRIENDS in the passenger seat of a car in the wee hours of the morning. But, I guess that’s what it’s all about. Sharing experiences. Gaining insight. Building upon solid foundations. Learning. Laughing. Growing.

The Single Aesthetic champions a person’s ability to realize just that.

The Big Day

It’s been a busy month. Turning 25 made me step up my “grown and sexy” game, which has been very time consuming to be quite honest. In any case, here are the Cliffs Notes. Details are forthcoming.

Pre-Birthday Preparation – Stumbled upon a ridiculous department store sale with BCBG dresses selling at dirt cheap prices. Birthday dress, check! Later that month, I took a trip to the David Yurman store with Anisa (finally)! After much deliberating, I finally settled on the anchor piece for my collection - classic cable-knit 7mm bracelet with a gold dome. Timeless.

The Big Day!! – Took the day off. Woke up to drop Jada off for a quick oil change, and headed to the mall for a facial. Next stop, hairdresser. Wave bye-bye to the tresses! I cut those locks OFF… and I must admit, the look is growing on me. After that, I headed to the liquor store to prepare for a little pre-game at my place. The entire time, I’m receiving hourly phone calls, text messages and gchat messages from the boy on my blackberry. Though he couldn’t be in my city for the weekend, he was making the day special. I appreciated that. With tequila and triple sec in tow, I headed to a nail parlor to meet Anisa and Cece for pedicures. Screams, screams and more screams. Oh my gooooosh! It’s so short! Do you love it?! I’m smiling. What a difference a haircut makes! I like the new ‘do, but I don’t love it. The bangs are too short, and I guess I should have given my hairdresser more direction before she chopped it all off. But, hey, it’s only hair and it will grow back. I’m 25!!! A new look for a new quarter in my life will be amazing. The pre-game flies by as Dionne arrives alongside other friends. The night blurs into morning, and I wake up with hilarious pictures in my Nikon. Even more hilarious is the fact that I wake up on my couch, with friends asleep on my floor, and in my bed. What a night. Dionne makes us brunch with groceries purchased from her food stamps (don’t ask). We eat, listen to music, watch movies and basically waste the day recounting drunken stories from the night before. How fun.

The following Tuesday – Mommy and Auntie are in town for a play. It’s nice to have them in town. Of course, Mom had MUCH to say about the new apartment and how I should be organizing and decorating my new space. I had already been stressed that the place wasn’t fully unpacked (nor fully cleaned from my bday festivities) but whatever. She’s seen me at my worst… I’m sure a messy apartment was nothing in comparison. Wednesday night we attended a play entitled “Miss Evers’ Boys” which took an in-depth look at the Tuskegee Experiments (read: exploitations) of African American men affected by Syphilis. Any story that can make you laugh, cry and deeply think about the human condition in one sitting is truly a masterpiece. Indeed, Kenny Leon’s production of this story did just that. Jasmine Guy’s performance as Miss Evers was enlightening and tragic at the same time. She captivated her audience, transitioning between scenes of her testimony as an old woman and scenes from her younger days as a nurse with the Tuskegee men. The story itself, while heartbreaking, was thoughtfully and carefully depicted in the play. Bravo.

That same night, during the middle of the production, I received a text from the boy. For the first time since college, without solicitation or warning, he told me he loved me. He told me he loved me. I sat, watching the play, completely unfocused, and let the words marinate. I re-read the text over and over again in my head. Those weren’t the words he used verbatim… but the “L” word was definitely in play, in a way that I had never heard (or read) from him. I was on Cloud 9. Happy Birthday to me.