Bullet Proof Soul

(This is a *long, reflective post*, LOL...Residual birthday memories of when I was young and dumb)

"No wise (wo)man ever wished to be younger."
~ Jonathan Swift

Growing up I remember my parents being associated with a wide range of people, from various backgrounds, cultures, religions, and socio-economic classes. I realize now that this was an intentional thing because my parents thought that I should have a clear understanding about the world in terms of wealth, middle class and poverty. I remember socializing with families who had lots of education, money, power in the community. I also recall volunteering in inner city summer programs, organizing free lunch programs in the rural areas, and helping church members who couldn't afford clothes. I played with kids of doctors, lawyers, janitors, truck drivers, city councilman, postal workers. I had a mixed bag of friends I loved. I suppose this is where I learned to get along with all types of people. I just had this innate ability to oscillate between just about any social settings that I found myself in.

If I am in the country, I feel at home, peaceful, sometimes even solemn. I can play cards, pick greens, laugh, and be real BAMA whenever I want. If I am at a formal event, wearing a long gown, I feel regal, poised, and proud. I can speak with confidence about intelligent matters, talk about socio-political issues, and even hold my own in pop culture matters. It's almost like I was a chameleon because of the ease in which I float through different voice tones, dialects, attitudes, or humor.

This used to really impress the wealthy men that I dated. I noticed that they liked the option of having a girlfriend who could be the "right kind of black" whenever the situation called for a certain type of behavior. At the time, I saw it as a compliment, and then I realized the pretentiousness of it all. After spending the better part of my 20s dating wealthy men, I learned a great deal about what money and power are in a relationship.

My parents didn't verbally say that they preferred I dated a man with money, but I used to feel pressure to date this kind of man to please them. I got involved with the son of a very wealthy family who owned/operated funeral homes. (let's call him RICH). This guy was tall, handsome, well-educated, refined, and classy. He drove the latest model cars, attended all the important social events in the city, and was well-known at the finer dining establishments. It was a common practice for us to walk in and be seated at his VIP table in a club, bar, or restaurant. I was so enthralled with the power he had. It was incredibly mesmerizing to watch him walk into any event and command attention. When I was on his arm, I used to imagine that we were a great power couple, poised to take over the city. He started out the perfect boyfriend and he never pressured me to have sex. He seemed to really just want me for companionship in the beginning. When things got serious between us, he began to think of us as a merger, more so than a marriage. This is when he lost his shine. I realize now how big of a control freak he was. (He could be the guy that started my spiral into my old attraction for possessive men, hmmm)


RICH always demanded that I represent him whether we were together or not. His concern was that he be associated only with high caliber people, even at a cook-out. I had to hand him a guest list for his birthday party before I sent out invites. If the people weren't from the right families, or weren't well-connected, then he crossed their names out and put down someone who was. At the time, I thought this was motivated by business, but I eventually found out, he was the worse kind of elitist and snob imaginable, the self-hating kind. RICH's family is what some would call new money. Meaning he basically was only one generation from the projects. He would always remark about how his thug cousins were headed to the pen. They were actually really smart, just didn't bother with pretentious behavior like he did. Then he would rant about his "hood rat cousins" which he called welfare queens. OK, well only one of them actually was on welfare and she DID have 5 kids by the age of 23, but the girl had a scholarship to University of TN, she was no dummy. Clearly she had some self-esteem problems going on but he was too busy berating her to find out. He would get angry whenever he would see people with his last name behaving in a way that didn't reflect well on their business.

When we were together, I never really voiced an opinion with him. I was a "yes" girl that did virtually everything he told me. He always ordered my food for me, and even tried to walk me to the bathroom once (now I drew the line there, dammit). He lectured me so much about my attire that I started to wonder if I was dressing too provocatively. then he asked me about my pantyline, or rather, the lack thereof. After much debate and badgering I stopped wearing thong underwear because he didn't like "the message" they were sending (still don't know what the hell he meant by that).

I remember a package arriving at my job and he had picked things for me for some formal event honoring his family's business. I was sitting there annoyed for a couple of reasons: he didn't ask me if I was going OR if I was free. He took for granted that I would clear my schedule to go with him. He chose what he wanted me to wear. He just tried to dress me up like a Barbie, to his KEN image. Wow, I really should have seen it coming.

Then I looked under the dress and saw them. A humongous pair of the ugliest underwear I have ever seen. For some reason, I just snapped when I saw it.

*sidenote* - I have always loved lingerie. Even as a little girl, I would steal my mom's bras and slips and parade around the house in them. I take underwear very seriously, it's like a tangible symbol of my womanhood and freedom. I know I am weird! (I won't even delve into why I am now sniffing my own panties after urging from sista friends)



Anyway, I am sitting there looking at these ugly ass panties and I am thinking they represented me! Weak, unattractive, lifeless, no design, no purpose, just strictly functional. I knew in that very moment that if I didn't end things with RICH I would be wearing these panties (not literally those particular ones in the box) for the rest of my life. I would be sentenced to a lifetime of wearing horrible underwear being chosen by him!

Well, that did it, and I got mad! I called him up and I told him that was the last time he would ever tell me what kind of panties to wear. I refused to go the event because of the last minute notice. He didn't think I was making much sense at the time, but when I later told him how I felt about things within the relationship, he looked at me blankly, as if to say, I don't see your point, or your problem. Verbally, he did say that most women would kill for a man to be thoughtful as he was and care about his woman's attire. I told him, well that's where the problem is, I am not most women. I am me.

We continued dating for a few months after that, but he was not feeling the more evolved young woman that I was becoming. He told his family that we outgrew each other. He told me that I was too immature to handle an "adult relationship" (read: you ain't giving up any fatty koo). I felt relief when it finally ended. Like I could stop being Rich's chameleon girlfriend and be me (whatever that was at 23).

*sidenote: I think I just realized the reason why Cater2U lyrics irks the hell out of me*

His mother still calls me from time to time. She said she knows that I really outgrew him. He is still single today. I can't imagine why he hasn't found his Stepford wife yet. I mean, isn't that what every sista wants a strong man to suck the intelligence and spirit out of her so that she can become a servant to him? Right, good luck with that RICH.

Nowadays, I have no problem speaking my mind in a relationship when it comes to voicing my opinion. Well, aside from when it comes to asking where I stand, I become the proverbial deer in headlights, so I usually just NEVER bring up commitmennt or the relationship label. I figure if things are going as they should be, the guy should speak up on that, and if he doesn't then I check out emotionally and wait for things to come undone. But I digress.

Last night, I hung out with a eerie carbon copy of RICH. Silver Spoons and I have known each other for years. I call him Silver Spoons because he is from a wealthy family. He hasn't worked hard for anything that he has. We keep in touch, go out when I am home (if I am single. We have this fun friendship of no sex, lively convos, and friendly banter. We don't talk about our love lives because I think we feel that cloud of possibility looming on us, waiting till one of us gets curious enough. I used to think that I didn't want to date wealthy men at all. (hence my foray into the murky sea for the League of Ordinary Uniformed Gentleman). He came into town to take me out for my birthday (really here for business, but he gets an A for effort in spinning it my way).

I am trying not to be Bag Lady. I don't want to put all wealthy men in the same category as RICH. I also have to remember I am a little more mature now than before. Silver Spoons talked about us dating and I told him I personally don't like LDRs. After the Captain, I realized LDRs are perfect for commitment phobes (like me). I am trying to change that. Maybe I really don't even want a relationship right now. With graduate school and working full time I feel like I really just want a MOD: Man On Demand. Do they have remotes for those?

The Most Beautiful Girl in the World?

**CUES PRINCE**

Could You Be.....The Most Beautiful Girl in the World?

WHY YES! YES I COULD!

It's plain 2 see


IT'S MY DIVA DAY!!

You're the reason that God made a girl

And if the stars ever fell
one by one from the sky
I know Mars could not be
TOO far behind

Cuz baby, this kind of beauty
Has got no reason to ever be shy(Nope, not me!)

Cuz honey,this kind of beauty
The kind that comes from inside
(Amen)


Um...I am a still a bit tipsy from pre-birthday celebrations. I pushed fifff (5) floor and I live on uhh, not that floor, ....oh 3rd!... of my building. LOL..um yea so I will return with a real post.

*Wise Diva hiccups, saunters back to the the bar*

THANKS IN ADVANCE (**cough Diggs!!! cough/hiccup**) FOR SHOWING ME BIRTHDAY LOVE!

Poem Taken from the book Honey, Please, Let Me Tell You How It Went


Thanks to my blog homie and her awesome and informative website: BlackFeminism.Org.

She gave me the heads up on this powerful author, Dana White

You spoiled brat, still sucking on the tit
A hundred excuses, and I’m tired of this
It’s not my fault, you always say
Blame it all on slavery
Even though you helped make things this way

Tribalry was and is a way of life
Long before Europeans came
We continually had strife
Divide and conquer, that was the way
Africans made it easy, divided to this day

But liquor stores, cigarettes
And drugs are thrown at us
Trees, crack, cocaine, and angel dust
The system’s unfair, I’m innocent
I couldn’t stand to see my kids hungry
No, I don’t have the rent

Excuses, excuses for not being on your feet
Get out of that walker
No more pacifier or infant seat
Excuses, excuses, lies, and deceit
For shirking you responsibilities
For the names you’re calling me

Bitch, freak, slut, ho,
We’re dancing to it, too
These words maintain the status quo
And we’re still blaming who?

Sisters singing about catching their man
Singing about being abused
Sisters singing about being hurt
Singing about being used

We’re starting to expect it
Survivors now we’re called
The family unit is a memory
Some homes have piss in the hall

I’ve seen men fighting women in the street
High class women in the ER beat
A friend of mine experienced this atrocity, too
Eve sang about it, How about you?

Lies, pain, denial, deceit
Some might say, don’t air dirty sheets
Don’t tell, be quiet, girl, please be discreet
No one must know
You’d better learn to make believe

I’m weaning him off, no more milk at the breast
Wake up from your nap, get out of the nest
Excuses, excuses, man it’s getting old
Grow up black man, if the truth be told
Everyone’s laughing, all the way to the bank
White, yellow, red, and brown
It’s yourself you can thank
The biggest consumer dressed to the teeth
Styling, wilding, ignoring your kids
And disrespecting me

Chivalry is dead, in the hood and out
If he won’t tap that ass, lady, that way is out
Your fight is not with him, it comes from within
Start with how to treat black women
That’s where you could begin
From clitoridectoomies to “Ho’s in the Hood”
Abuse and maltreatment
Your M.O.’s no good

Jamaica, Trinidad, Barbados, too
St. Thomas, St. Vincent, Greneda, and St. Lou
The weaker vessel is a dirty joke
Or in the words one guyanese spoke
She was, she cook, she clean home base
That’s right mon, she know she place

Pimps, dealers, players, crypt,
Husbands, boyfriends, bloods, addicts
Ex-cons, jailbirds, alcoholics,
Lovers, friends, dogs, and tricks

Size 4-44 and the baby’s daddy is gone
Dark skinned, light skinned,
Short hair and long
Doctor, lawyer, engineer, chief
Cook, laborer, driver, thief

Titles mean nothing, both rich and poor, too
“A man’s gon’ be a man,” more excuses for you
“Don’t hate the player, just hate the game,”
Just more excuses, there’s no need for a name

While drive-by and robberies are all organized,
Crabfest and ski trips, too
Boat rides, bus rides all organized
And we’re still blaming who?
While rape, assault, and murder take its toll
Where’s our organized neighborhood patrol?
Facts not fiction, for you baby Boo
You need tough love, I’m disappointed in you

Listen up, black man
The truth is in your face
Each time you disrespect your woman
You disrespect yourself and your race

.


So THIS is what I call a POEM!

Reading this has inspired about 5000 blog posts, some that will agree, some that will disagree with the messages here. So as they roll around in my head (along with bioinformatic terms) I will let this poem keep me mindful of some things.

I really do love the bruthas, and I don't think they are totally to blame for everything going wrong but this kind of poem makes you REALLY think! Is tough love needed???

I consider myself to be a dating veteran, so normally I am resilient to the let-downs that are common with dating. There is one time though, I took kind of personally. I think because I was extra cautious, and apprehensive, and tried to take things slow. After dating MR. COMMITTMENT PHOBE, I figured, the next go round, I will certainly have confirmation before developing any excitement, anticipation, expectations, etc...

Enter The Captain...

**sidenote** so after the LAME Fireman, the Psycho Cop and the Captain, I'm thinking dudes in uniforms should be avoided at all costs! I ain't even checking for WHAT BROWN CAN DO FOR ME!**

Captain was handsome, intelligent, funny, and from all appearances very single and looking for "wife material". We were on a wonderful journey of exploration. He did so much to redeem my faith in men. He was patient, understanding, compassionate, passionate, empathetic, and sympathetic. He was funny, smart, ambitious, educated, and sexy. (and the fact that he was PACKING was the cherry on top, LOL). I have never felt so comfortable with any man before and it totally threw me. I tried every defense mechanism in the book but I could not help that feeling of falling for him. Well, we were in a relationship and it was beautiful. He started talking as if he could be deployed, so of course, I gave him MANY outs. A pass, a RUN, go serve our country, FORGET ABOUT ME!! I told him REPEATEDLY that distance and time away was a big hurdle to jump for a new couple. But he was adamant about being in a relationship, and he wanted the connection to be sustained. I assured him that our communication didn't have to end, but it didn't have to be romantic, but he kept saying, he didn't want to lose me, or what we had. He said he would understand if I dated, but was hoping I would not get seriously involved.

I decided to focus on finding a grad school program, and I maintained our connection. After his deployment, I became a pen pal of sorts, sending emails, packages, well wishes, and prayers. He in return, told me I had wonderful qualities, considered me the total package, and in his book, I "had it going on". We were both feeling fortunate to have met. He sent me gifts, flowers, never missed a birthday, Valentine's Day the entire time. He was emailing my mother, sister telling them he looked forward to meeting them when he got back (ok actually, I am STILL pissed about that, not my mama!!) For two years I managed to parlay Captain into a GREAT excuse (read: lie) for not getting close to potential candidates. I knew that if I met someone, chances of me and Captain being in a relationship were slim to none. So I hid, dodged, and avoided, anything that looked or felt like a great catch. In retrospect, I had reasons that I was not ready for a relationship. I used Captain as an excuse to explain to my friends why I wanted to be alone (never again, these days I tell my friends the truth, I don't mind being single!).

Well when he finally returned, I was HORNY as hell! While he was gone, I had no desire to connect with anyone intimately because I had convinced myself that NOBODY could match the feeling I had when I was with him. ** now, I am cracking up at the ridiculousness of that shit** So there I was, with 2 years of pent up sexual tension, ready to see Captain and waiting to feel that passion we once shared.

Well immediately things appeared shady. I asked him his return date and he was iffy on what day he was due in the States. He gave me an estimated arrival. I offered to meet him at the airport, he said he would let me know. Ok, so I am twitching in the parking lot that is I-285 traffic and I get a call from Captain. He sounds close, no delayed relay as if he was still in Iraq. Where are you? He sounded tired, yet happy to hear my voice. He wants to know when he will see me. I asked him where he was, he says at a hotel by the airport. (O, really muddafuckah?). I asked him when he landed he said Sunday, early Monday. UMMMMM, it's frickin THURSDAY! He had not only been here for DAYS, he had gotten an apartment leased and set up a new cell phone. He did all these things before picking up the phone to call me? Uh, ok. Great.

So after talking with some guy friends who had a military background, they advised me NOT to trip. They say Wise, sometime there is a need to decompress, get acclimated, blah blah, whatever.

SO, he asks me to dinner but doesn't feel like driving. He wants me to come pick HIM up, and we go to get something to eat. I am still, somehow very excited to see him, despite my gut telling me that shit wasn't on the up and up. (VAGINA LOGIC!)

So I get there and our reunion was ….awkward. He barely wanted to look at me, let alone touch me. The connection we had was clearly not there anymore. We had been corresponding fairly heavily right before he came back so I couldn't pinpoint when things came undone, but needless to say I was disappointed. I was STILL horny, and I was gearing up to at least get down, I mean hell, TWO YEARS, Sasha was marinating! I needed to be served!

So he warms up a little bit and we start to fall into our old comfort zone. This is right around the time the hotel phone rang. He answers, and I still vividly remember that conversation to this day!

Captain: Hello
Female: wah wah wah
Captain: No, I am about to go to sleep
Female: wah wah wah, tomorrow?
Captain: Yea, we can do that
Female: wah wah
Captain: ok bye

And he comes back to cuddling with me. Uhh what in the hell? I refused to ask him who it was, and he surely wasn't volunteering names. This is when I had my a ha moment. He intentionally didn't give me details of his return because he ALREADY arranged for someone else to meet him. *sigh*

I got up, grabbed my things, and told him I needed to get going because I had a long ride back. He thought I was staying the night, and I told him I just wanted to lay eyes on him. Luckily my bag was in the trunk of my car. We parted that night and I didn't hear from his for days. HE said he was really busy with getting settled. He called to ask me out a couple of time but I just didn't really want to get caught up again.

I remember one day he called and we had the ODDEST exchange. He was rambling on and on about some girl he used to date when he was in school and how she could never understand that he was busy with school, full time and working full time. He said he didn't want her to feel like she wasn't important and he tried to make efforts to show her that she mattered, but ultimately things didn't work out between them. Then he bust out with, "I can already see now, that I will need to find a woman who is in school and working full time, like I am again, with graduate school and the Army. I am thinking to myself uhhhhhhhh HELLO!? What the hell do you call what I do? Stripping and Hooking for money!? I still don't get the point he was trying to make and I didn't really have the energy to figure it out or even ask for clarification about WHAT THE HELL THAT HAD TO DO WITH ME!? Shit!

*ahem*

Anyway! He normally calls on my birthday, or New Year's Eve, which is when I last heard from him. The conversations we have are not the same. I never asked him why his feelings for me changed because honestly I didn't want to know the answer. It's like all your worst insecurities creep up when you feel rejected. I would rather my imagination run wild and think that he was married or about to undergo a sex change operation. LOL.

I am sure he has moved on with numerous other chicks by now, but every time my birthday comes, it is always nice to hear his voice and reminisce about how we used to connect. This year I will have a new phone number. I debated on whether I should call him to update it, but I figured I should leave well enough alone. Things just weren't meant to be for us. I do wonder though, why did he keep corresponding with me romantically? I was prepared to back off being a couple and remain his good friend, but he was so adamant that he wanted more. I suppose he was trying to guarantee procurement of some booty on his return. The thing is, I would have gladly been intimate with him if he had been upfront about what it is he really wanted. I was sooo horny it was just freaking reee--dick---- you --- lous!!!!

I guess he felt that it was necessary that I be caught up in emotions to be with him but I just didn't like that feeling of being set up. I almost questioned our entire pseudo-relationship. Then I realized that he was the first man to show me how deeply I could feel emotion and passion. I wouldn't call it love, more like love's cousin infatuation. He came along at a time when I needed to see that my total package is feasible. Our timing may have been off, but HIS timing was just right. Now if I could just let go of that nagging feeling of unfinished business with the Captain.

Neurotic spells of diminished capacity

Feeling submerged in a sea of confusion

Life lessons are coming at me

So rapidly

Ready or not

I am taught something by each

Trying to regain my footing

Sanity is within my reach

I find myself trapped in emotional slavery

Bound by feelings of inadequacy

Already accustomed to these bogus shackles

Barely even notice they are there

Circulation starts to wane

Starting to cause me pain

Grounding my free spirit

Overshadowing my shine

I can easily draft an

Emancipation Proclamation

Why won't I write mine?

Capturing the essence of my being

I look within to find my strength

I can't borrow it from a friend

I can't buy it in a store

I can't find it in food

I can't gather it from a man

I have tried each of these before

The freedom I seek is from insecurity

That feeling of being strong

I have tasted it before

I know it's power

I yearn to savor its intensity

Self-doubt is really just a notion

Trying to disabuse it

I have the key to these shackles

Why won't I use it?

**DISCLAIMER**
I am Not a poet, and I don't do spoken word...ahh hell, this is me, rambling about how I feel lately...soo, ok it's my attempt at a poem dammit, but it feels good to get it out. Turns out, I LIKE to put my thoughts into a pattern that may or may not rhyme, who knew? Whenever my birthday rolls around, I get in these weird funky pensive moods. So this year my upcoming birthday, mixed in with family drama, toss in a relationship disappointment, add a pinch of grad school struggles, and you have a recipe for disaster. Whew. Why in the hell was I in a hurry to grow up!

I read somewhere once "If life is like a journey and our job is to travel its sometimes beautiful, sometimes dangerous paths, it behooves us to make some good friends along the way."

Some of the friends we choose are like kindred spirits, to whom we don't even need to explain ourselves to. They just get it. There are other friends that are polar opposite to us and sometimes they take us places that we never would have ventured.

What all friends do (or should do) is enrich our lives or teach us valuable lessons. I have learned the hard way that Sometimes the lessons they offer is learned after we let them go.

Dangerous Friends are not the same as toxic friends. Toxic friends like Evilena eventually show their toxicity to you in one way or another. No, Dangerous Friends are a totally different variety. I call them dangerous because despite all the signs that point to "not trustworthy" you somehow proceed with said friendship and compromise your own happiness to please the person. You rationalize your actions (or inactions) to be their friend and you somehow end up giving the person access to you that they really should not have.

It's odd because in a romantic relationship things are a lot less hazy when removing dangerous people from your life. There usually is little doubt when to do this. But how do you sever ties with a dangerous friend who you know isn't any good for you? When is it ever the right time to do it?

I know a lot of people who have dangerous friends. I believe that these friends came into their lives and taught them lessons that perhaps they really needed to learn. It seems to me though, that the most valuable lesson that they may ever learn from their dangerous friends will probably be best learned after they let their dangerous friends go.

Why do we associate with friends we know aren't good for us? Maybe they themselves aren't dangerous after all. Maybe we are the dangerous ones by giving them too much power in our lives.

I should re-write that movie so that it resembles actual real life events. Operation Bootycall to Boyfriend has been aborted and abandoned. I called a cease and desist order on it as of midnight.

I went into the mission with one goal: maintain my stance on where I am and ask that he meet ME there, instead of the other way around like it historically has been between us. This was no easy feat. I tend to have a weakness for him and I ALWAYS let vagina logic creep in. This time I had a strong will to see, once and for all, if this man had what it takes to be in my life, on my terms, and at the same time find out if I could offer him what he needed without compromising me in the process.

Well things started out with more initiative on his part to spend vertical time with me. Just having him make effort has always been a point of contention with us and I don't know why. He feels like I should call him all the time and he actually keeps a tally on how much he calls me (irks the hell out of me and I let him know that). He continuously mentions the ratio of calls from him to me in proportion to my calls to him. This has always been an argument in the past, but this time, I refused to entertain that entire issue. I figure that I work full-time, in addition to taking some ass-kicking courses full-time, and I already have very little leisure time to even do things that I want to do ALONE, let alone time to think about calling him every free moment of every day, on top of planning (non-sexual) things for us to do.

Now, I have tried to be more accommodating for him in the past, when I was REALLY feeling him. I would call to hear his voice, call to check on him, plan stuff for us to do, but this time he is courting ME. This doesn't mean I expected him to do all the work, but I wanted to see effort on his part. So I wanted to sit back and watch his effort and I would RECIPROCATE. So I didn't call him, but I did return his calls, which, in my opinion, is more than fair. I figure we are waaay past that whole stage of I don't want to appear too needy, so I won't call too much or too often that is common with someone NEW. He ain't new in THAT sense.

So operation B2B commenced after our lunch date 10 days ago when I agreed to let him court me. He started out calling to check on me each day, and I think one morning, he even called to wish me a good day (first time!). He was supposed to attend Vibe Fest but his ticket hook up didn't come through. He calls me during the entire show, then when I left, he calls to see where I will be after the show, and we go back and forth on whether he will see me out or meet me at home. Finally, I head home and he tells me that he wants to "come over to hold me and go to sleep". I tell him there will be no sexing so that he knows upfront and he verbally agreed to that. He said he respects my wishes and just wants to be near me. The fireman sighting had me feeling like I needed to be held so I was using him for comfort. Not fair, but I knew that is why I was more agreeable.

So, on the way home he calls my cell and asks me to meet him because he is stopping for something to eat. I am hungry too so we get some food and head to my place. I can tell he has been drinking because he is really chatty and rambles on and on about nuthin. So we get to my place and he is telling me about the Tyson fiasco that he watched. He gets up and starts cleaning my kitchen. I am looking at him as if he had 9 heads. The kitchen had a few dishes in the sink but he starts wiping the counters down, sweeping the floors, and the whole time he is rambling about Tyson. Well it is already late so I take a shower and get in the bed. Mr. Clean finally tires and joins me and we go to sleep with some great spooning action (sweet!)

The next morning I am awakened by him trying to get morning loving. Now see? I am usually a big fan of morning lovin, I absolutely think mornings were made for it, but today is not the day to slip into our old habits. So Krpyt gets ejected for violation of one of my B2B rules. He is not pleased, but leaves anyway.

The next few days he calls me, checks on me, see how my week is progressing. On Wednesday he comes over for dinner. I cooked a wonderful meal of salmon, rice, steamed veggies, rolls, and apple pie a la mode. I threw down! He ate and ate and was asking for seconds. We had a great time talking, eating, laughing, and it seemed so familiar and comfortable. He told me that he wants to do something special for my birthday. I told him I would mostly likely start off somewhere having drinks with friends and he says he would come through. We move over to the sofa and watch tv, cuddling and enjoying the closeness, at least I was. We started kissing and things start to get too heated. Once again, he is asked to leave because I know where things are headed. He doesn't really like how I am controlling my emotions or urges and he accuses me of being manipulative. That accusation hurts my feelings because I feel like I was being honest with him about how I felt and what I wanted to see happen between us.

I thought he agreed but I realize now he went along thinking he would use penis persuasion to flip the script on me. I don't blame him for that really, it has worked in the past. Well, we have a bit of a argument and I said some things that I shouldn't have. My jazzy mouth gets me into trouble sometimes.

*sidenote* in the middle of that argument, his cell phone is ringing incessantly. He does the ole glance at the caller and ignore move. I told him he can speak to whomever he wants in front of me. We are just dating, he is free to talk to anybody. (ok that was bullshit, but it sounded great at the time, LOL)

Anyway, when my feelings get hurt I turn into an evil bitch and say hurtful things as evidenced by my response: "let me just break you off, so you can pull a disappearing act like you normally do", then I was just mean and said, it will only take 3 minutes anyway, right?(so wrong). Things just kind of came undone after that. He accused me of being a control freak (I don't deny that) and says I am really just toying with him, and have no real interest in him except to play games. (ha!)

I haven't heard from him and I am not sure if I will see him for my birthday. We had talked about going to a beach block party they were having in my community. This was going to be a great chance for us to be OUT and enjoy each others company. I couldn't reach him. I ended up going with somebody else and had a wonderful time, so I suppose it worked out for the best.

I am not too torn up about it because I feel like I gave him a chance to build something meaningful with me. Maybe my outlook on things is too restrictive for him.

So how do you lose a guy in 10 days? Well when you are trying to transition from booty call to boyfriend, you avoid sex like the plague and you see how long it takes for him to figure out how strong you are in your stance.…then you wait for true colors to be shown. Reflecting on how I feel right now, and based on what I have seen about our interactions, I came to the realization .... I don't want him. Dammit....Now how do you REALLY lose a guy in 10 days?

When I moved away from home my father said to me, "I know you aren’t under my roof anymore, but that doesn’t mean that I am not there to protect you" (I am already crying, damn!). At the time, I chalked it up to pops getting mushy that his baby girl was growing up, leaving the nest, no longer bound by his strict rules.

I had been taught by my mom to be fiercely independent, that bullet proof diva mantra was instilled in me way before that book. But I think somehow I must have missed out on other important things that Mom was teaching me with her actions. She always let my father be the head of the household and she submitted to him. Even on days that I knew she probably had to bite her tongue (REAL HARD) she always trusted dad to make the right choices for the family.

ok , wait....I am digressing into another mom’s day tribute.

Well being hard headed as I am, I stopped calling my father for every little thing (and big things). I no longer went to him for advice about things like I used to. I slacked on calling him up to pray with me on the phone when I needed spiritual guidance. It got to the point where my dad asked my mom, is she mad at me? I wasn’t though, I got too caught up on making him proud of me that I dropped the ball on connecting with him. Showing him how much I loved and appreciated him, faults and all, stubborn streak included.

There was so much that I went through after I left home but I didn’t tell my parents. Always the hard ass, I took my own steps in making life choices (some very, very UnWise). When psycho cop started exhibiting behavior that mirrored my past abusive relationship, I perked up (way too late, but eventually)..and got proactive. I contacted his supervisor, took the restraining order out, I spoke to his cousin and I let them know that his behavior was starting to become obsessive. Still trying to be my own protector.

Well when psycho cop re-surfaced last year, I didn’t have the will to fight again. After my pseudo-confrontation with him after sending me unwanted flowers, I just got fed up. Who do you think I ran to? Good ole DAD.

Now I had to go recount the whole saga of psycho cop stalking me, following me, sending his boys to trail me, breaking into my garage and vandalizing my things. Then I told him how the fool came back almost a year to the exact date that the protective order expired.

He listened quietly and asked me, “why didn’t you call me before?” I told him I wanted to "handle it myself" (shaking my head at my own self). Then he said,”That is what I am here for, to protect you, don’t ever feel ashamed of reaching out for help especially to your own father”.

I felt like a HUGE idiot! Why did/do I always have to prove myself to people? (That is a definite contingent to be addressed on my Deconstructing Diva Mission).

Anyway, my dad works as a federal investigator for a government agency now, so he has access to some places and people that others don’t. He asked me for the name, address, description, job title, and whatever the hell else he could think of to ask me. I gave it to him, begrudgingly. I was thinking that maybe Dad would really jack that fool up and psycho cop would come up missing (didn't have problem with that, just didn't want pops to go down for it). He told me that he would handle it and to let him know if I heard from him after today. (Damn Dad, ONE day?!).

To this day, I have no idea what my father did to psycho cop. All I know is, a package was mailed, people were notified and I no longer had a stalker. All because of my Dad.

Now that I am older we have a totally new dynamic to our relationship. Growing up as a PK I never saw him as anything other than my father, the minister. Now, I am back to regular discussions with him. We laugh, and kid with each other like ole friends. I even bought him a beer last father's day. A BEER! He never even drank alcohol when I was growing (not in front of us anyway). I feel bad that I can’t be with him for Father’s Day but a dear friend of his passed away and he will be leaving town for the funeral. I was going to try and sneak a quick road trip to see him before he left, but he just called and said, don’t worry, I know you want to be with me, but stay there and do your class work. I will see you soon enough. I love my DADDY, my REAL protector, he is my BULLET PROOF VEST. I wear it all the time, even when I think I can stop/take the bullets myself. Just having him protect me feels incredible!


Happy FATHER'S DAY, POPS!

So I am talking to a friend of mine (who shall remain nameless or else he would murder me) about his alleged complaints about his girlfriend being a stealth lover. A stealth lover is someone who performs sexual acts on their partner whilst sleeping. Aside from using Rophynol, I argued that I seriously don't see how a sober, full-functioning, able-bodied, grown-ass male could possibly fall "victim" to a stealth lover. How would he NOT know that his pleasure pole is being tampered with? How could he NOT feel the kegel muscles contracting?

*sidebar: What does it say about him that his girl likes his ass to be sleep while she gets hers? LMAO!! His ego didn't like that question so I left that one alone*

Now being a fairly adventurous kinda gal, I was intrigued because I had little knowledge of what this really entails. Surely, there is not a secret revolution going on that I don't know about. Whoever started the legal stealth lover trend is a frickin genius.

Is it possible that I endured that lame ass dude with his horrible attempts at dirty talking, when all that time, I could have been a stealth lover?!

Who does this? What are the tips? How can I ensure that a bastid won't awaken and ruin my tryst yet still deliver me that mind blowing orgasm that I would want?

I don't want to go to jail (ya'll know the diva doesn't do orange jumpsuits) but if there is a way to get up in the middle of the night, get my rocks off, and go back to sleep without hearing: "just lick it for a few minutes" or "was it good?" or "bet you never had it like that, huh?" ....ohhh boy!! Imagine all the time I could save, the annoyance that I could be spared, LOL!

I think I should try to do some research. I just need a healthy male with narcoleptic tendencies to practice on. I wonder if I could find some volunteers.

I was reading one of my favorite bloggers and he was describing a moment he had where he reflected on what it felt like to be FREE, and how much he was MISSING that feeling. Reminded me of Ella Fitzgerald's song No Strings (Fancy Free). I used to play this song on Sunday mornings when I was feeling good. I miss that feeling of euphoria and happiness. I think I am on the way back to it, so in the meantime, while I wait for it to reach me, I will play Ella, to speed things up a bit, and make me smile while getting there.

I wake up every morning with a smile on my face
Everything in its place as it should be
I start out every morning just as free as the breeze
My cares upon the shelf
Because I find myself with

No strings and no connections
No ties to my affections
I'm fancy free and free for anything fancy

No dates that can't be broken
No words that can't be spoken
Especially when I am feeling romancy

Like a robin upon a tree
Like a sailor that goes to sea
Like an unwritten melody
I'm free, that's me

So

Bring on the big attraction
My decks are cleared for action
I'm fancy free and free for anything fancy

- No Strings (Fancy Free) by Ella Fitzgerald

This song captures a little bit of how being free can be so so sweet.

I know I sound OLD as hell, but WHY DON'T THEY MAKE SONGS LIKE THIS ANYMORE!?


I was so busy ranting about Mismedicated, that I failed to mention what else made me do the gas face that night. When I was at VIBE FEST last weekend, walking around, looking cute as I wanna be... I run into the missing FIREMAN. I locked eyes with him and he just sort of stared at me, of course, he said nothing. I didn't either. I thought about it, but really, what could I say? I just shook my head and kept on moving. It felt odd, him standing there, me walking by, us pretending to be perfect strangers. My friends really helped me laugh things off. One guy I was with, said he would walk back and stop in front of him, and get down on 1 knee and pseudo -propose to me. LOL..I passed but that was hilarious just thinking about what he would do if we actually did that.

It's weird because when I first met Fireman, I knew that he wasn't exactly the type I had dated before. I remember telling my old roomate, "I have grown accustomed to his face" *shaking my head*...What kind of backwards shyt is that? I mean he had this thing...well I will say, I called him NO NECK for a long time. LOL. It was so so wrong, I know. But it was really his personality (which in retrospect was really his bullshit artistry) and his total adoration of me that kept me interested. What girl doesn't like to be worshipped and put on a pedastal (yea that ego of mine gets me in hot water too much).

Why is it that people become so damn unattractive after things go sour between you two? I looked at him and was like WTF was I thinking!? It's like when you meet someone that is not so hot, and as you get to know them, they become more appealing and more handsome, till BOOM, they are FINE. Well, yea, same thing happens in reverse when you get to know someone, they become reasonably attractive, and they act an ASS, and they get reduced to troll status. It is completely psychological, I know this but STILL, WTF was I thinking!? LOL. I suppose it shows a bit of maturity that I can by-pass looks to give men a chance. Hell the pretty boys get on my frickin nerves, so I wanted to be more open-minded with dating. I think I will still be open to dating guys based on personality, but I can't get so caught up on the "adoration" factor that I overlook when they are playing games either. It doesn't matter what you look like, if you are shady, then you will show that in 90 DAYS, like Tazzee always says. Time will reveal all.

Well, what bothers me most about Fireman, is that I don't like NOT being friends (or civil) with guys I used to date. He is on the short list of fellas who I was involved with that I will never ever, EVER call. Such a waste, so unnecessary. Ah well. At least I was cute when he saw me! LOL. That's what REALLY matters, right?

Watching independent films is sort of a hobby of mine. I love discovering these gems when they are done well. I know that you don’t need a huge budget or good catering for a movie to be good. Sometimes you just need your talent, a major credit card, and some friends. At the same time, being an indie film should still be about sending messages, and it certainly should be thought provoking, and maybe even address issues that larger studios don’t want to touch. Now having said all of that, I have to tell you about the annoyance I felt watching a indie film that had a diverse cast, but not in the good way.

I will preface this rant with a disclaimer;I truly don’t have a problem watching films that feature inter-racial couples IF the storyline is believable. What I can not stand is when a script totally misses the mark and goes so far beyond reality, it becomes a mockery of itself.

The film in question is SKIN DEEP. Now if you plan on seeing it in the future, you will need to stop reading here because I may ruin it for you, but my guess is, you will want to watch it anyway. When I was watching it, I could not turn it off, sort of like it’s so bad I have to see HOW bad it gets type of fascination.

Now Skin Deep stars Mailon Rivera a very sexy man! He had me drooling at the first scene, just damn!

I will refer to Mailon’s character as Bitch Ass because that is exactly how he acted the entire film. So Bitch Ass is screwing his neighbor, yes as in, next door neighbor, played by Debra Wilson. The same Debra Wilson from Madtv fame.



Now I am not opposed to comics doing dramatic roles, but she really sucked in this role with her over-acting, and wtf was up with her voice? She sounded like Eartha Kitt on crack!

Anyway, Debra will be Psycho Chick. Psycho chick and Bitch Ass are finishing up there little tryst and he is putting his clothes on telling her that this is the end of the road for him and her. Psycho chick doesn’t like the sound of this, and you can see what little sanity she had evaporate and she gets that glassy, deranged look in her eyes. She says fine, I don’t need ya!

So Bitch Ass walks his nasty self next door to his blonde hair, blue-eyed wifey who for all intent purposes is really clueless in this film. How ya man gonna be next door banging the neighbor and you are in the bathtub oblivious? He comes in and after he takes a shower (he wasn't getting too close for her to smell coose juice on him) and he tries to get a quickie in before their friends arrive for dinner. She declines him, he gets angry and complains about it being too long since they last made love. (as if he didn’t just get satisfied a few minutes ago). He says he loves her so much and he just wants to express it to her, blah blah. Whatever!

Now already I am annoyed that this brutha is cheating, then he is cheating with a neighbor, who is a psychotic black woman, then he WALKS his nasty ass home to his white wife. WTF? So the sista is a psychotic piece of ass and he goes home to the white woman who doesn’t please him? (rolling eyes).....you got to be kidding me.

So friends show up before they get busy. AJ Johnson aka FREAKY WIFE, is playing the wife (from House Party and Baby Boy fame,) and her husband being played by ANOTHER comedian, who SUCKS in this entire film. He is ANGRY BLACK MAN , so of course he baits Oblivious in to a debate about race relations. He got on MY damn nerves because the points he was trying to make were lost in translation, buried in his bravado and ignorance. This scene could have been a redeeming part of the film but it fell way way short of having substance.

So after Bitch Ass takes up for his wife, the the fellas go to another room in the house to talk, leaving Oblivious and Freaky Wife alone. Freaky Wife starts stroking on Oblivious, rubbing her back, all up in her face, and this Oblivious chick is well, totally oblivious to what she is doing until Freak wife tries to slip her the tongue. (You can not be this dumb, I know you are blonde, but damn, isn’t that a stereotype?)

The fellas are discussing ANGRY BLACK MAN’s recent business deal that went south and how he is hard up for cash. He knows that when FREAKY WIFE finds out that he lost their money, she will flip, and leave him. So BITCH ASS implies that he could get money if he smoked his wife for the insurance money (which he claims was just a joke).

Now what happens next is just a series of ridiculous events. In summary, the 4 of them end up in a hot tub where Freaky Wife and ANGRY BLACK MAN start messing around and she even goes underwater to give him a blow job (ok that part was educational). Oblivious is disgusted and hops out and Bitch Ass follows her to console her and explain that his friends are just wild like that (YRB).

Somehow Freaky Wife ends up floating face down in the hot tub, but this time, there is nothing in her mouth but water because her ass is dead.

The remaining 3 blame each other and the body count grows. By the end of the film BITCH ASS has no wife, no friend, and no lover. The film could have been written better, it could have given some insight into some heavy issues, but it went for perpetuating stereotypes and going for the twisted plot with no explanation as to why the characters did what they did. *shaking my head*.

This is why we can't rise as a people! (Said like X). Contributing to the worst stereotypes when you have a chance to have a voice that can be positive. This was directed by Sacha Parisot, which despite what the name may imply, is a male. Hmph! Shocking right?

I just think indie films have a chance to tell stories that need to be told and I get annoyed when I see one that had the potential to be so good, turn out SO bad.

(Big Ups to Kendeezy for my entry's catchy title)

excerpts from AllHipHop.com


MAXWELL’S TRYING TO COMEBACK!

Ok, in boho R&B news, Maxwell – the dude that butchered Kate Bush’s “Woman’s Work” – is trying to come back. The only thing is, this next outing is reportedly so sexually explicit, that his record label doesn’t even know how to put it out. Apparently the lyrics are really vulgar. I’m a Maxwell fan, to a degree, but one thing I don’t want is “too much information” so tuck those tales back in the closet. Furthermore, the girls loved D’Angelo, but he was never the same after that aberration called “How Does It Feel.” Keep it G!

R.KELLY IS TRAPPED, BUT MAXWELL’S OUT OF THE CLOSET?

I knew something was strange about that Maxwell rumor. Nothing is “too vulgar” in the music game…especially when exploiting women (right?)! However, if the person singing is a man and he’s singing about sex with another man, that could be a precarious predicament for a record company, right? So, if a singer is singing his whole career about the ladies and decides that his comeback album doubles as a “coming out of the closet” album, then that’s an issue. So, when I previously mentioned Maxwell being vulgar, it didn’t sit well in my brain. We have “Uncut” shows and explicit images of women in these magazines. So, according to my sources, people have heard it and he being possibly gay isn’t really a secret – straight people just didn’t know. Is the world ready for THIS?

HELL NO, and fuga da world .....WISE DIVA ain't ready for that..I mean my fantasies about Maxwell does NOT include a third party, least of all RUFUS from Trapped in Da Closet!



IF this RUMOR is true, I blame Aruh Kelly!


DAMN DAMN DAMN!! It can't be true!? Can it?!

Ok... well it could totally be true, but dammit leave me in the dark about it....IGNORANCE IS BLISS!

NOOOOOOOOOOO!!

Footnote: That BLOGGER WITH ALL THE DAMN NUMBERS sent me on a hunt for this information about the LOVE OF MY LIFE...I will forgive you one day, but you are forever etched in my memory as the person that ruined my life....now YOU bite me real hard! LOL

I once saw a quote that said:
Actions that derive from intentions are preceded by fantasies associated with expectations.

Other than my innate behavior and natural instinct, I think that everything I do is generally preceded by some type of expectation of an event, action, or emotion. It is like having a sense of what might happen as a result of a certain decision. Having expectations has kind of been like me using a lighthouse to illuminate things so I can see what dangers await me. The problem usually comes when my expectations are not realistic and the so called dangers that get illuminated are either non-existent, or self-imposed. I am not always aware of what I am doing, and I want to start to identify when this happens.

I think I am this way for a reason. When I experience a certain event, I associate a specific emotion with it. When situations arise that "feel" like said event, I naturally start to anticipate that the same outcome/action will bring the same emotions or consequences. This can be a perceived or an actual event, good or bad. When there is disappointment, there is usually an expectation that was not met. I think that I have a tendency to anticipate the worst because of prior events, experiences, and I expect to be let down. This is a PROBLEM that should be worked on (note to self) immediately. I don't want to be THAT girl that is so busy bracing herself for the worst case scenario, that I miss out on relishing on the possibilities of the BEST case scenario.

In class we discussed statistical expectations within the context of studying genetic structure. (My geektard quotient will probably skyrocket after this post). Statistical expectation is basically a mathematics average that is calculated from probabilities. It's interesting how concepts in math, science, and engineering mirror concepts in human behavior. (Is it just me or did I suddenly start to sound like Diggs? LOL)

Now I remember reading somewhere (psychology book) how statistical expectation exists in our personal lives. If I recall correctly, the book discussed expectation versus anticipation. Statistical expectation was one of two types of expectations, the other being need expectation. Statistical expectation is referring to the anticipation of a future event or occurrence based on prior experiences, which really implies probability. Need expectation stems more from emotion; implying that there is psychological anticipation of a particular outcome of behavior (I guess this would be a prominent feature of Vagina Logic).

Now back to the quote (Actions that derive from intentions are preceded by fantasies associated with expectations. ). I have certain expectations for success in each area of my life: career, health, spiritual, emotional, and love. I take certain actions that come from my intentions (of success) which are preceded by fantasies (of success) with expectations (of success).

Actions:
I have chosen a school and program that I expect to bring me closer to my career goals. Part of the expectations that I have for success is preceded by my fantasies of having a fabulous job (and a beautiful SLK 289 roadster, LOL), property in Italy, and a husband that looks a LOT like Maxwell (you saw that one coming, right?)

As stated earlier, I have chosen to deconstruct myself to promote personal growth that I expect will bring me closer to my goals for success in my spiritual, emotional, and yes even health/well-being areas of my life.

I have been learning some HARD lessons lately. Lessons that I was ill-prepared to learn, especially in the manner that I learned them. This is a part of life (sucks doesn't it) that is inevitable, despite my perception/misconception of being bullet proof.

I have been completely frustrated with so many things lately. The good news is I feel as if I see a light at the end of the tunnel(its flickering a bit, but it's there!) What I am going to attempt to do....what I expect to happen..is that I will take this negative energy and frustration and channel it into something positive that will help me learn and grow. I hope that this will help me learn to deal with the situation because going to jail for assault is not a good look for the diva. Orange jumpsuits would look horrible on me!

Where is THIS Lauryn Hill!?


I don't know what she is on.

I don't know what she should be on.

ALL I know is, that chick that performed at Vibe Fest Saturday was barely focused, unrehearsed, irritable, and confused...she is quickly becoming the Courtney Love of Hip Hop.. Just sad!


I forgave her for the 70's attire (complete with mushroom hair do, big loop earrings, and big striped shirt)


(Thanks Kendeezy for the pic!)
I overlooked the fact that we waited hours to see her get on stage (WTF were they doing to the stage, Feng Shui?)

But what I could NOT overlook was her being a bit detached from the audience, never attempting to connect with us, never really acknowledging that we were there aside from "ya'll alright". She snapped at her band, she kept checking her paper for what to do next, and if it wasn't for her back up singers, I don't think she would have made it through the show. It was just unreal seeing her on stage like that. UNREAL!

Her voice was not the same, she clearly ain't feeling the live performances, so I have to ask, was she mismedicated? Or is she just on that sh%$?!!!!

Deconstruct: To break down into components, dismantle.

I have been trying to regain my focus this week. I am not motivated to do school work, I don’t feel like working out, and lately I have been having very low energy. I am drained! I don’t like this feeling and I have been concealing it to those close to me. I don’t want them to worry about me, so that masking action kicks in and there I go hopping on that stage being that 2nd woman..

*sigh*

I feel as if I need a new perspective. I have felt this way before, and I realize that I have to nip this in the bud. This feeling of being loss.

I am pondering a lot now about who I really am:

What is my sense “self” in my mind as opposed to others? (because I really choose what I show to others)

What am I really made of?

What makes me do, say, feel, react the way that I do?

Am I afraid of growing and do I purposely sabotage certain personal growth?

Am I the source of my own suffering?

Do I control what affects me or what doesn’t?

My sense of self seems to be drastically impermanent, always changing; yet firmly rooted in the essence of my being. I just feel like I am in a metaphysical maze of why I am here, who I really am, and what my true purpose is. I think I am going to read the Purpose Driven Life. I have heard interesting things about it but I realize now that I have stalled on digging into it. I really feel that what I am most in need of is a spiritual makeover. Personal devotion, prayer and meditation have become stagnant for me.

Is my current sense of self a figment of my imagination? I want answers!
And answers I will seek, as I deconstruct and dismantle Wise Diva, I hope to find a clearer sense of self because right now, things seem SO hazy to me.

**Updated** (scroll down)

Has this ever successfully happened?

Krypt is back on the scene and has said that “this time” he wants something meaningful. I suppose all previous attempts are now officially deemed as him thinking of me as a booty call. I, of course knew this all along but for my own selfish reasons, decided to “play the game” to get my needs filled too. I am not exactly opposed to a relationship with him, however, I don’t think he can handle a lationship with the new and improved Wise Diva.

The one who prefers to be in a committed relationship that is headed towards marriage.

The one who not only is waaaaay out of the stick and move phase, but heavily leaning towards the, next man I sleep with should be my husband level.

The one who will have no problem being supportive, but refuses to be a doormat, again.

This Wise Diva has battle scars that are healed, still healing, and growing in the process.

This Wise Diva will want to be introduced to family, friends, and yea his DAUGHTER, IF things get serious.

In a way, I feel like I am testing him, which may not be fair, but it is the only way I can determine if I should take him seriously or just slide back into our booty dance that will surely have an expiration date.

I had to actually say to him: "you have never courted me, and granted I never encouraged you to do that, but now I am. If you have a problem with spending VERTICAL time with me, then just be THAT guy that calls me once a quarter." (You know that guy that calls to see if I am in need of a “a release” to take the edge off.) I prefer it that you don’t waste my time if you are even a little bit uncertain that you want me in your life in a real way.

He says his perspective now is that he knows what a great woman I am, I am important in his life, we would be great together, he feels ready for commitment and marriage blah blah. But why do I get this impression that he is doing that ole Jagged Edge, "we ain’t getting no younger, we may as well get married" bullshit. I don’t subscribe to that at all. I will be wearing depends and dentures on my wedding day if I have to because I re-damn-fuse to marry somebody out of desperation, loneliness, fear of being alone. If that means waiting till I get an AARP card, then hey..that’s just what I will do.

He just called to take me to lunch. He has NEVER taken me TO lunch...he has HAD me for lunch, but this is altogether new. Should be interesting. I will report back after lunch. Here we go. Operation B2B, Day 1.



Operation B2B - Day 1
The good: - first lunch date. He parked his truck, came into my office, escorted me back to said truck, opened door for me, let me decide where to lunch, paid for meal, returned me to work, kissed me goodbye.

The bad: almost immediately brought up our last sexual tryst that was years ago, during my lunch hour, at his ole place. Asked if I wanted a repeat, said we could make it to my crib in 7 minutes.

The ugly: sex was the topic of discussion at least 7 times, including him asking me if he could come over tonight, after his game. When I asked if he could come by and refrain from seducing me, he said yes then asked if I could handle that. *shaking my head*. I had to remind him that last month, I slept at HIS crib with NO problems, no seduction, no sex, and I was just fine. It CAN be done, we have done it at LEAST 3 times before.

Final comment:
I won't make any hasty judgements, just observing his actions/words, to see if they align. He DID say he wants to be married. He didn't say married to me, but at least its good to see that he (allegedly) is on the same page as I am, i.e. wants something meaningful that could lead to marriage. Well, if not same page, we could be on the same book...remains to be seen what chapter he is on, and which one I am on.

You must take the good with the bad, and you might hit the wall
Sometimes you'll fly and sometimes you'll fall
There isn't any way, to avoid the pain
But it's getting burned, that's how you will learn
To come back to the middle
India.Arie

(thanks Tazzee for sending me to my India.Arie cds)

Ok, how much do I LOVE you guys! I have awesome people who take the time to visit my blog! I have actually printed the comments from yesterday as a reminder that there are people (some I haven’t even laid eyes on) in this world that have good in them that genuinely cared enough to offer words of encouragement, love, and support. Just wow! Clearly I am knee deep in the pain from the shock of it all. I don’t want to fester in the anger, so once the hurt subsides a bit, I will be praying for strength to let it go and heal the bullet wounds. It’s like big brother Carrington said to me, “When someone in your family does something bad to you, it almost makes you want to question everything” – truer words have never been spoken!

I also need to figure out why I always reference my ex with-no soul anytime I feel deep betrayal. I didn’t like it that I even had that in my head in the midst of it all. (So much for progress). At any rate, I was reading my entry thinking maybe I got too dramatic (I do have a flair for it sometimes) but really, I was speaking honestly from my heart, and it’s my blog, so its ok if I be drama queen for a day (or 4).

On a MUCH lighter note…. Preggzilla dropped her spawn last night at 11:05. (that was mean but so so true, she has been EVIL at times!) It was an incredible thing to witness (I was asked to stay). I am happy to report that the baby is happy, healthy, and sweet as sugar pie. After seeing her deliver, I know for certain, that I WILL NOT be having any biological kids…like, not ever. Seriously, I have an entire new respect for mothers who go through this....ya’ll are GANGSTA!!!

What is the point of seeking a bulletproof soul if you blindly turn your back to people who hold the most powerful weapons?

These weapons are armed with bullets that can penetrate the protective covering that you have for your heart.

You would think that random strangers, potential love interests, and old boyfriends pose the biggest threat to your emotional safety. You put your terror alert on high when any of THESE individuals give off “shady” signs.

All the while, you turn your back on your Circle of Trust (thanks Beloved for this phrase). You feel safe among your loved ones because those are the ones that should be protecting you.

Well imagine the shock and awe of having someone within your trusted inner circle betray you. Imagine them lying to you...right to your face ....repeatedly, and stealing from you, REPEATEDLY!

How do you continue being bulletproof after this happens?

How do you find a way to heal the wound left from the bullet that pierced your very soul?

My sister and I used to be close. I have said before that I wanted us to be closer. Now I am not sure that I want that. She has lied to me and hurt me so bad that I can’t imagine being in the same room with her right now.

My soul feels like it has been riddled with bullets.

Bullets that read:

Lied
Stole
Selfish
Denial
Betrayal

Being bulletproof with your own family is impossible. You shouldn’t have to be.

Just Damn

I can’t cry about it anymore. I just have to face the facts that anybody can screw you over. I should have learned this lesson when my first love, the man who I thought loved me was bending me over a sofa, telling me HE loved me. This was love? I sold that sofa so I wouldn't be reminded constantly of him raping me. This time, I have nothing to sell. Nothing tangible to get rid of. I am stuck with this pain for now.

I just don't know if I can have another Circle of Trust. What would be the point? Having it broken again by what you thought was the STRONGEST part of the circle itself?

People will always look out for themselves. Doesn’t matter who

Don’t trust anybody. Life Lesson for the "bulletproof diva"

- Thomas Jefferson said it..and I concur!

Thanks Cee for tagging me with a cool meme!

Total Number of Books Owned:
Since I just moved, I can only estimate that the 8 boxes of books (hardcover, because I am a not practical when it comes to book purchases) add up to over 100 books. I will find out when my lazy tale unpacks them this week.

Last book(s) I bought:
Textbook for classes (snore) –
Instant Notes in Bioinformatics
Developing Bioinformatics Computer Skills: An Introduction to Software Tools for Biological Applications

Last book I read (leisure): Babylon Sisters by Pearl Cleage (awesome!)

Current book I am reading: (for leisure) I copped The Hamptons to read on the cruise, straight left it on the counter. I am going to try and get to it next weekend (taking classes this summer too).. can't wait!

Fiction or Non-Fiction:
Fiction

First book I read:
According to mom, the Bible. I really think it was Good Night, Moon.

Most read book:
Ain’t I A Woman? by bell hooks

Largest Impact:
I think I have 2 that equally impacted my life:
The Bible
Bullet Proof Diva

Favorite Scholarly Book:
Race Matters by Cornel West

Sexiest Book:
Sexual Healing by Jill Nelson (aside from the girl on girl action scenes, I could easily place myself in the steamy chapters)

Biggest Disappointment:
The Hand I Fan With by TINA MCELROY ANSA. (sexing a brutha in the spirit world?!..really?!)

Five Books that Mean Something to me:
The Bible
Willow Weep for Me: A Black Woman's Journey through Depression by Meri Danquah
Why I Love Black Women by Michael Eric Dyson
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston


I always forget to tag somebody else (LOL!)
Beloved
Kendeezy
Mommy2be

(and no..this is not part 5011 of some freaky ass Aruh Kelly song, although he could surely come up with some lyrics for a song titled Golden Parachute… but I digress)


Do you have someone that is always there to catch you when you stumble, fall, and land flat on your ass…a fall that injures your ego and pride in the process? Is there a person that you can turn to that will catch you when you are battling self-defeating thoughts? This person is always a cheerleader for you and there for you through thick and thin. If so, you can call them your golden parachute.

My golden parachute used to be Marcus. Marcus and I met through work and we immediately hit it off. He was such a great listener and so funny. During the time when I was caught up in my drama with the ex with-no-soul we became a lot closer. He was one of the few people that I told about what I was going through. He never once judged me. He never said I was dumb for not seeing obvious signs. He just listened and consoled me. Always encouraging me to do whatever I had to do to be happy. We would talk about anything and everything. He would talk about his lady problems and I would try to listen and give my perspective. I always wanted him to be happy with whomever he was with. We were the poster kids for plutonic relationships!

When I moved to Atlanta I begged him to come with me. He learned he was going to be a father right before I left, so of course he stayed because he wanted to be with his child. I did try again later to get him to move, even circulated his resume and set him up on interviews. He ended up taking a traveling job, (against my advice) and he hated it after awhile and later admitted I was right.

Well during one of the many visits to ATL for job hunting, Marcus would stay with me, sleep in the same bed, without ever making a move on me. This happened at least six times. Slept together but didn't SLEEP together. Things were just copacetic.

Well they were until that fateful night when he came to visit and attend a concert one weekend. I had a bit too much to drink and I was being silly and flirty. Marcus usually laughed it off when I did this, and normally would counter back with some witty banter. This time he didn’t. He got quiet and stared at my mouth and then laid a passionate kiss on me. I was floored. How could he do that out of the blue? How long had he wanted to do that? What was I supposed to say? The only words I could muster were, "ok that was weird". He looked so hurt and I immediately felt horrible. That next morning I blamed it on the likka and apologized if I hurt his feelings. He admitted that he had realized that his feelings for me grew a great deal since I moved away and he realized how much he missed me. We talked it over and we agreed that our friendship was too important to us to risk it in a romantic relationship (ok mainly me, but still he nodded in agreement!). We BOTH vowed that we would chalk it up to a one time kiss. However, our friendship was never the same after that weekend. I tried to return to normal but he kept distancing himself from me. He would come to ATL with his traveling job and not tell me. He didn’t show up on the weekend he said he would for a party that I was throwing and didn’t bother to call to tell me. Eventually I let it go, and just sucked it up. I wasn’t going to beg him to stay friends. If it was too awkard for him, I had to accept it. Plutonic friendship became a distant memory and I was beginning to think that males and females can't just be friends.

Well, just in time for my upcoming birthday (he knows I nut up around my birthday - just yuk! @ getting older)...So Mr. Marcus (not the porn star) emails me a few words and I admit initially I had MAJOR attitude.

He tried to start with that humor (aka how pissed is she?) kinda email:

”I am looking for my friend Wise Diva" blah blah.. she was last seen/heard cussing me out on my voice-mail" ...(ya damn right!)

Ummm nah dude, that won’t fly.

I told him "she made her disappearing act right after you did"

So then he goes straight for the emotional jugular…and with one email I forgave him for pulling a disappearing act on me. I mean a few strokes of the keyboard and he sends words that just made my heart smile. Who knew a few words could be that powerful?

He wrote: I only disappear, because I don't want my impure mind to dirty the pure clean person you are. But you are in my heart.

Now see? He knows that I question that kind of thing because his actions clearly don't reflect these words. I won't hold a grudge though. He had his reasons for handling things like he did, and so do I.

I miss my Golden Parachute. I haven’t found a new one since him.

Still feeling like shit soup...but my girl Golden put me down for a music meme. Gotta love that music!

What is the total volume of musical files on your computer?

Thanks to Elle, I also own a Sony Mini-Disc Recorder (named mine Maxwell, of course)
itunes - 2.7 GB.

What song are you listening to right now?·
Maxwell – Symptom Unknown (from the Now Album)

Last CD I bought?
Miles Davis – Love Songs – replaced this cd because it was a casualty of my recent move.
Dwele – Subject - I am way behind on new music purchase, so I am a downloading diva

Five songs you listen to a lot and which mean something to you:
If It Wasn’t For Your Love – Heather Headley –Like Golden, If I ever get married this is the song I want played at my wedding. The lyrics are just how I would feel because it will HAVE to be love to get my ass down the aisle…not gonna jump the broom just for good sex or wealth/ money or to treat baby fever..hell naw.

Daughters – John Mayer – Reminds me how blessed I am to have the parents that I have

No Weapon - Fred Hammond & Radical for Christ – Sometimes l really feel like a warrior and this song reminds me that I am covered by the blood of Jesus!

I Keep – Jill Scott –I absolutely hate to cry, and this song reminds me that I can/should when I need to.

Break You Off- The Roots – umm since its been SOO long since anybody has…I spin this to imagine that its about to go down! (LOL!)



Edit: That ole saying "better late then never " just ain't gonna cut it this time? It is ri-damn-diculous how we have to wait for justice sometimes!

CHICAGO (Reuters) - The FBI on Wednesday exhumed the body of a black teenager killed in a Mississippi lynching 50 years ago, hoping to shed light on an unsolved crime that symbolized the raw history of race relations in America.
A burial vault with a casket containing the body of Emmett Till was unearthed with the help of a backhoe beneath a white tent over his grave site. Family members held a brief prayer service there beforehand inside a quiet suburban cemetery near Chicago.

In the summer of 1955 Till was 14 and living in Chicago when he visited relatives in Mississippi, then the very heart of the segregated Old South. He allegedly whistled at and talked to a white woman in a store, for which he was kidnapped and killed.

His battered body turned up in the Tallahatchie River near Money, Mississippi, weighed down by a cotton gin fan tied with barbed wire to his neck. He appeared to have been tortured and shot.

Two white men, one of them married to the woman with whom Till allegedly flirted, were charged with his killing but acquitted by an all-white Mississippi jury.

The men later described in a magazine interview how they had beaten Till but the two could not be tried again because they had been acquitted.

Both are now dead but a recent documentary, "The Untold Story of Emmett Louis Till," by New York filmmaker Keith Beauchamp, turned up witnesses to the crime who indicated several people were involved.

The FBI is looking for evidence to see if its possible to still bring charges at the state level. It was not clear, however, what the exhumation would accomplish beyond proving that the body is that of Till, and some experts have said it was likely to yield little else. No autopsy was ever performed.

In announcing its investigation a year ago the U.S. Justice Department said it had received new information and wanted to determine if any prosecutions were still possible in Mississippi.

At the time one official called the Till case a "grotesque miscarriage of justice" that still "stands at the crossroads of the American civil rights movement."

Till's burial vault was placed on a flatbed truck, covered with a blue tarp, and hauled away to the Cook County morgue for an examination.

After his death Till's mother, Mamie Till Mobley, ordered her son's disfigured face displayed in an open coffin in Chicago. She died in 2003 and was buried next to her son