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A Knock On The Door

I woke up dizzy this morning, recalling last night’s events. I was still a little sad about my long-term crush Donovan getting married so I called to check up on my bestfriend Tamara who was on her way to spend the weekend with her boyfriend in South Carolina.

We chatted for a little bit and I wished her well and hung up. Before I could get back to my computer there was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” I shouted, grabbing my flip flops.

“It’s the police.” The voice on the other side of the door is strong and deep.

I opened the door and said hello.

“Goodmorning,” he said and smiled at me, shuffling papers in his hand. “I’m looking for Ms. Tee.”

“That’s me.”

“I have something to give you.” He was a Black man who looked to be in his late 30’s or early 40’s and he seemed a bit sad.

“Who’s bothering you?” he asked as he took a few notes on the paperwork.

“Hmm. Probably my BBDD. He always has some trick up his sleeve. What’s that about?”

“I didn’t read it. Is that you?” he asked and showed me a copy of a picture of myself that I gave my son, my BBDD had included it in the service papers.

I laughed, “Yeah, that’s me. I just have a new hairstyle.” I smiled.

He looked at me and frowned. I glanced at the paperwork and said, “Yep, I see he’s filing for child support. I wonder if he’s filing for full custody too.”

The police officer rolled his eyes. “Some men have no clue.”

“Yeah, and it’s even worse because everytime I tried to file for child support when I had the kids, he would try to block it by filing all these motions since he’s an attorney and we never got to court until after I lost my job and he had the children. They dismissed the case. I couldn’t afford an attorney to help me so things just fell through the cracks.”

“He’s an attorney and he’s asking you for child support?”

“Yeah. He knows I live with my parents and I’m a graduate student. He knows I’m still not working. He doesn’t need it, that’s just how he is.” I shrugged.

“Well, let me tell you a story. You probably have one of your own but I’ll share anyway,” he began. “Once when my wife and I were having financial problems, we were up late one night and I was sitting there reading the paper and she was worrying. She looked over at me and got mad at me because she thought I didn’t care. I looked at her and told her that if I had the money, I would pay. Since I don’t, I can’t sit there and worry. Worrying takes away from your life, it doesn’t help the problem at all. So please, don’t worry about this. Don’t hate him either. Just keep on doing the best you can, stay on your knees and give it to God. God always takes care of us.”

“Thank you for saying that,” I told him as he began to walk away.

“Just keep on doing what you know is right.”

I appreciate him for taking the time to talk to me. Since then I have not stressed about it at all. I have my boys for the entire weekend and I have money so I plan to buy them some new shoes and have a great time.

I love spending time with them. They crack me up. They’re so smart.

The other day I went to visit my sister at her boyfriend’s house in Ft. Lauderdale. We went shopping for his birthday and got pedis together. My 7 year-old son went with us because he was supposedly “sick” and couldn’t go to school.

While we ate lunch at KFC, my son saw a sign that said 99 cent plus tax.

“What’s tax?” he asked me.

Hmmm….I thought about it for a moment and then explained.

“Well, do you know what the government is?”

“Yes.”

“It’s the group of people who make the rules and try to fix things in our country. They make us pay taxes because they need to help people who don’t have money and fix things like roads and build schools.”

“OK.”

“So, whenever we buy something we have to pay 7 cents for every dollar. So…if something costs one dollar, how much tax do we have to pay?”

“7 cents.”

“How much is it total that we have to pay?”

“One dollar and 7 cents.”

“What if something costs $2?”

He thought for a minute. “$2.14.”

“What about $3?”

“Hmm..$3.21 because 7 times 3 is 21.”

“You are simply brilliant!” I told him.

He sure is.

I’m not worried. Things always work out the way they are supposed to.

They always do.

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Still Wandering Around

I am so happy right now!

I didn’t realize how much pressure I was under when I was working or shall I say..volunteering with that SL media company. It was great work and would have been a welcome challenge had I been getting paid for it, but since I wasn’t I often felt like, “Why the hell am I giving my gift away for free like this?”

So the other night I wanted to go out, but in the back of my mind I kept thinking, “But you have so much work to do for that company. You can’t go out.”

I even considered not spending time with my boys this weekend so that I could catch up on my “volunteer” work.

What a fool!

I ended up resigning from that media company, not because I can’t do the job, but because it’s not paying me and I’m not stressing myself over anything that doesn’t add to my wallet.

I spoke with my friend Curtis about it and as usual he dropped some knowledge on me.

“Tee,” he said. “You take on the responsibility of the company’s success as your own. I bet most of the duties you had weren’t given to you, you gave them to yourself because you can see what needs to be improved, but you have to let that go. You can’t do everything. You stressed yourself out, they didn’t.”

Damn…..He’s right. Whenever I work for a company, I go in and I do my little easy ass assignment and then I’m sitting there and I’m like, “What do I do now?”

Then I start making up all of these plans and strategies on how they could grow their business. If there’s something that I can do myself, I do it, no questions asked. I do way too much work and that usually pisses people off but I do it because…that’s how I am. If I can do something myself, I will. I hate waiting for people to catch up with me and I move FAST!

So the lesson I learned here?

I will not volunteer for shit anymore unless I know it’s something that I will really LOVE. My problem is..if I see someone needs help, my heart won’t let me NOT help them, if I can. I’ve given so many hours of free advice, free writing, free business consultations to people…all because I love to give and they need the help.

I have to prioritize my life. I can’t rush in and save everyone. I’m fucking up with that mentality.

Shit..I don’t know what to do. I want to help people accomplish their dreams but in the midst of doing it for free, I somehow lose myself because I do too much and end up feeling used.

Will there ever be a time where the circumstances will be just right for me to operate creatively and still be able to support myself?

Man…I just want to give my gift, but…I have to eat too.

I feel like a fuck up, I still haven’t found a way to give my gift yet.

Ima figure it out.

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On The Inside

I had the most thrilling time on Second Life early this morning. I woke up in the middle of the night after I got a random phone call from one of my friend’s that is in town for Memorial Day Weekend.

I logged on to SL to see if any of my sources had contacted me and I got an IM from a person I met randomly one day.

As we chatted about SL and my experiences we began to reveal details about our real lives. When he asked about the meaning of my real name I told him that my name meant Powerful ruler. I asked him what his real name was and he said, “When I tell you my name you’re going to be shocked.”

“How so?” I asked.

“My name is Sharlene.”

It turns out that this ‘man’ is actually a Black woman. She plays on SL as a white man because she says, “People seem to take me more seriously as a male.”

There’s a lot of this going on in SL. After all, you can be whatever you want to be. I’ve interviewed a white man who says that he wishes he was born Black and plays a Black avatar on SL. I’ve also learned that one of the most successful publications on SL has a Black publisher and she is really a white man in real life. I’m about to publish these interviews on my SL blog as a series on people who change races in SL.

As a researcher and social studies junky, the most intriguing aspect of being on SL for me is finding out why people choose to play and how they spend their time on SL.

I used to spend time with a man who was married in real life. After talking with him I found that he has had several romantic relationships on SL and doesn’t feel bad about them.

I’ve met a man who is disabled in real life and his spirit is so bright. He plays a cat on SL and when I asked him why he said, “It’s just a body. A way to get around.” That made me think of our bodies and appearance in a new light. If the person we are isn’t defined by the ‘carrier’ of our souls, then it shouldn’t matter what we look like.
But it does….

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Aching…Aching…

Can I whine for just a minute?

Dayummm….

My body is aching…aching…aching for some physical attention.

What the hell do you do when you have absolutely no one to call to come and rub on you, fondle you and squeeze your booty?

I don’t know man, but I think I’m about to cry.

I really am. I’m not connected to anyone, anywhere. Ain’t nobody checkin for me.

Lemme stop lying…but I don’t like any of them.

~whining~ I want someone I really like, and who likes me and who wants to have secks on a regular basis and who likes to drink/and or smoke and who is incredibly successful and wealthy or maybe just on his way to being that and he doesn’t mind that I don’t cook or clean and he sees me as the superstar that I am and all he wants to do is make me smile like that is his main mission when he is with me or even when he’s not.

DAYUM!

I really need to have secks!

This is a fucked up way to live!

Bitches!

I hate everybody!
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This Weave Is Like….

I have so much to say.

This weekend I did pop in on the Memorial Day Weekend crowd on South Beach. We were down there for almost 3 hours, 2 and a half of which I could have gone without but I did meet a few people.

That crowd is for the 25 and under type of kids. I mean, if you’re older than that, cute boys in fast cars don’t appeal to you as much so walking up and down the strip while men grab your arm and try to get your number isn’t that fun.

But it was kinda fun…cuz I hadn’t been touched in a minute. So hearing millions of compliments everywhere I went was actually pretty great.

The best thing about being down there was watching the hairstyles. I know I have this weave up in my head but this is NOT the look I’m going for permanently. The type of men that are attracted to me with this hairstyle are NOT the type of men I would ever be with.

My sons LOVE, LOVE, LOVE me with this hair. I took them out to the store on Saturday and I had my head scarf on, my son came up to me in the store and said, “Mommy, please take that off, I want everyone to see you.” They always asked me to grow out my hair, so for them this is a dream come true.

But seriously, as I watched the parade of hip hop fashion and hair up and down Ocean Drive, my heart was drawn to the natural hairstyles. There’s nothing as beautiful as the variety in colors, textures, dreads and afros. I don’t know, when I’m wearing my hair natural I feel FREE.

Now that I have this weave, I look cute, but I feel like I’m in bondage. I can’t go to the beach whenever I want to. I can’t take a shower without covering my hair up. I can’t sleep without braiding it and wrapping it up. I can’t get caught out in the rain AND it’s way more expensive to maintain, I have to buy the hair for like $65 and then pay someone $65 to put it for me.

This is some bullshit. And I’ve noticed that my attitude has changed, I’m more….ghetto, I guess, rolling my eyes, popping my neck, cursing. Not to mention I’m consistently popping myself in the head because my scalp itches and I can’t get my fingers in there to scratch it.

I think I’ll wear this for another few weeks and then I’m gonna go get my hair twisted to begin my journey with dreads. I’ll share my pics with you as I grow along.

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Oooh, Ahhh, It’s Steve

“What the hell is going on?” I asked myself as I drove numbly through traffic following Steve to his house. Did he really move to Miami?

It had been a month since I last spoke with him and here he goes showing up at my school dropping this bomb on me. I can’t do this. I can’t take this. He said he needed some space so I left him alone. I’m so content being single that it was kind of a relief.

I really don’t need him in my life. I liked things better when he lived in New York and his trips to Miami were like adventures for both he and I. But now he’s saying he’s moved here.

~shaking head~

I don’t know how to take that. I don’t want him to be all up under me all the time, asking questions, expecting things from me. Damn…

I pull up to his building and park next to his car. He’s standing there in all his glory; nice fresh Jordans, pressed jeans and a black t-shirt with the word DANGER written across the front in orange letters.

“Damn he fine,” I mutter to myself as I walk up to him, smile a half smile and he turns to walk into the building.

We don’t say a word to each other as we ride up the elevator and exit on the 10th floor. We walk up to the front door and he turns to me.

“Use your key,” he says.

I reach into my purse and fish around for my keyring. I unlock the door and toss the keys on the small table near the entrance. I kick off my shoes like I used to do and plop down on the sofa, grabbing the remote and switching on the TV.

He soon joins me and I notice that his shirt is off now and he’s wearing a pair of basketball shorts and socks. He scoots closer to me and I scoot away from him.

I can feel his eyes piercing through me but I don’t give him the satisfaction of looking back. I mean, what does he think this is? I don’t even like him like that anymore.

“Look,” I tell him, my eyes glued to the television set. “I met someone else. He’s very nice and we’ve been hanging out for a month.”

Silence.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah and…I don’t know why you just up and moved down here like that Steve. We were cool and all but, it wasn’t that serious. I think you move too fast. I’m not ready for all of this…”

Silence.

The next moments fly by in a blur. In an instant I am overpowered by his touch.

His hands move quickly to draw me close to him. I feel his warmth, smell his strong scent, moan under the roughness of his hands gripping my waist and placing me on his lap, my face inches from his.

His eyes meet mine and we sit there for a brief second before my arms encircle his neck and my face is buried in his neck.

Damn..I missed him. I sigh, unable to release the words from my lips.

“I missed you too, Tee,” Steve whispers, gently kneading my back with his hands.

I can feel the heat rising in me as his lips then tongue tickle my neck. His kisses become more insistent, more urgent as though he’s trying to communicate with me through his touch.

My bra and blouse comes off in one easy swoop and his hands find their way to my heaving chest.

“Oh my gosh,” I whisper as he undresses me and pulls me to the floor.

I’m frozen in time, unable to even assist him by raising my hips or wiggling out of my jeans.

He dives right in, face first and I cringe at the thought that I have not taken a shower yet.

“I miss your smell,” he tells me. “I miss everything about you. You’re so beautiful.”

Yuhhhhhhhh….. My head is spinning, my eyes are in the back of my head, I can’t see anything but random bursts of light as his lips move inch by inch up my stomache to my neck.

Yuhhhhhhhhhhhh… I gasp.

I hear the crinkle of plastic and I see a shadow above me.

The tears start to flow as he slides gently inside of me. My legs grip his hips and we rock, we rock, we rock.

“Baby, open your eyes,” he whispers.

I shake myself and force my eyes open.

He’s staring at me so intently.

His movements become more aggressive now. I’m gasping at the amazement of the moment, while sweat glistens across his chest as he continues his fierce work out.

“There you go, Daddy,” I tease him, thrusting my hips forward.

“Oh yeah? You like that? Give it to me!” he commands.

“I got you, Daddy….”

“Tee…” he says.

Yuhhhhhh…HELP! I’m gonna explode.

“Tee!” he says again, grabbing me by the throat, not missing a beat in his saucy rythm. “This….Is……MY……P***Y! You heard me?”

Yuhhhhhhhhhhhhh…. HELP! I think I’m going to burst open!

“YOU HEARD ME?!”

Huhhhh??? HELP! Who am I?

Ahhhhh…

“Say it bitch!”

Ahhh….. ~gasping~

“I love you, Steve…”

“That’s right. That’s right. Take that,” he whispers in between strokes. “I’m here now. I ain’t going nowhere. You betta get used to it.”

HELP! God? Please? Help? Anna? Mama?

“Get used to it, bitch. Turn your ass over.”

Ahh…

Oooh…. I love him.

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Low Energy, No Energy

I feel like I’ve been smoking weed. And I haven’t, I promise.

Not today anyway.

Maybe I need to take some vitamins or something. Maybe I need a good massage. I just feel like my whole body is out of energy right now and I don’t have the umph to move off of this bed. I have so many projects going on, but thank GOD none of them are stressing me out. Everything I do now, is on my own timeline and I receive the benefit of either having joy or receiving money from doing it.

I keep getting subscribers for my other blog and I don’t know why. So I made myself come up with a new feature for it. I hate dissappointing readers. This week I’ll explore the fantasy: Learning to Relax and I’ll reveal some of my favorite relaxation techniques. I’ll even make a video for this feature.

As for me, I’m cool, I’m good, and I’m even better when I get a chance to speak with my friends. I’ve been trying to see if I can capture how happy everyone is right now in words, but I haven’t been able to do it justice.

Kim…FINALLY, FINALLY found a good job in Chicago and I am sooo relieved. No more believeing God to sustain her luxurious lifestyle. All I can say is, God really, REALLY loves her, He never takes anything from her, he only adds to her life and that is because she expects it.

Prince…well, if I have to hear one more, “You don’t understand how happy I am with this guy and how much I appreciate him in my life” conversation, I just may go to Atlanta and stab her. For so many years I watched her deal with dudes and I’d be like, “You can do better. You deserve better.”

Now when she calls me to talk about her relationship, I am sooo happy because this is what I had in mind. He does cool things for her and she trusts him, which is way out of her character. She never trusted any man.

Anna is doing well in Massage Therapy school. ~laffs~ Anna’s dreams are weird to me, but I’ll let her have them. ~shrugs~ Once she even told me that she always wanted to be a mortician. ~shakes head~ Anna’s different. But she’s so happy now! What a turnaround from when she first got married and I would be at home so upset because she wasn’t happy. Now they have found peace and are working together. Whew…all of these relationships wear me out…

And to think, I go to class and study this stuff too! I’m surrounded by relationship issues and I’m the only one I know who isn’t in a relationship. Sometimes it’s annoying as hell and other times, I wish I could experience some of the things we study in class or that my friends and sister talk about. At times I feel like the disabled child who goes to school to study body movement.

Oh well…

Damn its hot! For real, yo. This shit is stifling.

I’d like to manifest a nice, cool place to hang out, relax and write and chill, with plenty of free food and drinks and a nice, attractive brown man to rub on me from time to time.

I’ve placed my order, Universe. God ahead and fill it.

What else? This weave is hot as hell. People are complimenting me on my new look and I’m telling them, “Don’t get used to it because I’m taking this shit out. This is not a good look for the summer and I don’t like the attention I get with all this shit on my head.”

I’m still thinking about Donovan Daniels everyday. I now realize that it’s because you all know I rarely ever meet men that I am attracted to and just hearing his voice on the phone makes me feel like I’m a googly eyed fan of his. He has such a sexy voice.

You know what it is about him? He’s not a bitch. There’s nothing bitch-made about him at all. He doesn’t argue with women. He isn’t a whore. He just chills and is ..just fine. That’s all he does, make his money and look good. He’s such a nerd too. ~sigh~ I swear, if God can give me a man finer and more intelligent than Donovan, I think I’ll fall out.

That dude is fine. I should have*Censored* when he was here. But I didn’t. I held back.

And now I’m half mad, half happy that I didn’t try him like that and that’s because we would have both been stuck afterwards.

I’m such a nerd. All of my boyfriends are fantasies.

Steve was good though, wasn’t he? Dayummm!

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Producing A Story

This month I’ve been working on a story for the Herald’s education section. My editor emailed me telling me that she found out that the rate of 16 year olds getting their drivers licenses is down.

My job is to find out why and produce a feature story with pictures to be published in the newspaper.

In order to do this I had to ask myself, “How do teens generally get their licenses?”

Answer: Drivers ed in school, drivers school

So I called the school board to speak to the person over the drivers ed programs and he said that the school board was meeting because of budget cuts and this program was one of the ones being cut.

That’s one quote.

Next, I have to put a local spin on this national trend so I called around to different high schools to speak to drivers ed teachers and principles to ask about how their programs were doing and what they tell students who want to take drivers ed and can’t do it at their school.

That’s another quote.

Since every story generally should have at least 3 sources, I decided to call up a drivers school and that interview was the most rewarding. The owner spoke about a variety of reason why kids aren’t getting their licenses, the main one being the cost of insurance and gas.

Since this isn’t a news story, I won’t lead the story with a hard lead like : 16 year olds are not getting their licenses due to…..

No, it’s a feature story so I have to use a soft lead with a personal angle. You have to put a face on the issue. I’m still looking around Miami for a 16 year old to interview about learning to drive and their experience. I hope that the parent of the child will grant an interview too, so I can paint an accurate picture.

For the photo that I have to submit, I think I’ll send the photographer to the driving school to get a few pics from there or if the teen I find has an interesting story, say he decided that he can’t get a car because it’s too expensive, I’ll try to get pics of the teen on the bus or at the metrorail.

So far I have not written one word of this story, I’m just piecing it together in my mind. I’ll start with the personal story of the teen and the parents and then I’ll go with the quote from the school board person. Next, I’ll add the quote from the drivers school and maybe the principal, if it’s not redundant.

When my deadline is closer, it will all gel more easily, I’m sure.

So…that’s how I put together my feature stories.

My next story is about two women who live together and co-parent their 6 children. They’re not sexually involved, it’s just how they choose to be single moms, but in a way, they aren’t single moms because they have each other.

I love what I do. I do it well.

I am so blessed to actually be a professional journalist. I am appreciative of that fact, every single day. Thank you GOD!