What can I say?

Ok, so I’ve known about my next speaking engagement for four months now and tonight I am just sitting down to prepare my presentation. I write best under pressure, or maybe I’m just lazy. Whatever it is, I know that when I go to speak at Florida International University’s Annual Journalism Day, I will be standing there poised and prepared as if I had not stayed up until midnight the night before finishing up my speech.

I’m teaching a workshop called Features: Writing that comes to Life. Somehow I’m supposed to speak for an HOUR teaching budding journalists how to make their writing more lively and interesting.

Who in the world qualified me to teach this?!

I emailed my old Magazine Journalism professor and told him about it and he responded:

He, he.. You really have then snowed don’t you? he, he…But I know you’ll be great! Good luck.



Not only do I have to prepare a comprehensive lesson, I have to do a powerpoint presentation and make up handouts to give to the 100 students that are registered for the workshop.

I’ve pulled out all of my old writing books from college; they are still new cuz I never looked at them before. And I’m staring at a blank piece of notebook paper, trying to get my outline together.

Oh boy, Saturday is going to be my time to bring the real. And with journalists from all over the city scheduled to be there, I’ll be sure to smile and snatch a few cards to forward my resume.

So, let me clear my mind and breathe in and out. Maybe something will click. Hey, if you ever read anything that might be useful for me, PLEASE send it.

Calling all writers: How do you make YOUR writing come to life?

I’m NOT a baser

I’m not on the Atkins diet and I’m not on crack.

I just happen to have lost a serious amount of weight. When people see me now they do a double take. My mama says I look horrible, but my friends say I look great.

It took me a long time to shed the weight I gained with my last pregnancy. I was a little over 200 lbs. when I gave birth. And slowly, but surely the pounds have come off until recently I went into a store and gasped at the fact that I was wearing a size 6 in jeans.

Size 6?

I hadn’t seen a size 6 since I was 19 years old.

Now, don’t get all happy for me, in my opinion skinny is NOT cute. I never thought those pencil thin women had anything on me and when I got to college and gained my “Freshman 15” I was so excited, cuz then I actually had hips and thighs and a little junk in my trunk.

I know why I’m losing all this weight. So if you’re wondering how to trim the fat, here’s my weird little secret: I don’t eat just for the fun of it.

When I was trying to lose weight I made up my mind that I would only eat to satisfy my hunger. I wouldn’t eat just because it was meal time or eat to make myself bloated, I’d only eat when I felt hungry and then I’d eat just enough to kill the hunger pain. The major habit that I formed was to STOP eating fast food.

I guess this habit has taken its toll on me because I don’t really desire large amounts of food anymore. My appetite has decreased dramatically. I don’t think I’m anorexic. I’m definately not bulimic. I don’t know what has happened to me. All I know is I can’t dare to lose anymore weight. Even my face is starting to look different.

If I could, I’d go back up to a size 8. I think a size 8 is the perfect size. I wouldn’t even mind going back up to a 10. But until then I’ll just enjoy this tiny frame and not worry too much about it unless I start to feel sick. I still look damn good.

Heyyyy. Maybe that’s why I’m attracting all of these young guys, I have the body that I had back in highschool.

Who knows.

Non-political blog

I’ve never been one to make political comments on my blog. But tonight’s presidential election polls has me tugging at my hair like never before. For the record, I missed the presidential debate on television. I was so wrapped up in my preparation for my seminar that I forgot all about it.

A friend of mine called me to talk about it and I couldn’t believe it when he said the polls reflected that Bush is in the lead. What?!!!

Everytime I turn around I was hearing nothing but Bush bashing. It seemed to me that everyone wanted Bush OUT of the White House. So, if this was true, why didn’t the polls reflect this?

I only have one reasoning: The ppl who so adamantly want Bush out of the office are not going to go out and vote.

Why waste your time complaining if you’re not going to do something about it?

When will you read this?

So, I don’t know what’s going on with blogger but it won’t let me publish anything so I have no idea when you’ll read this but I decided to go ahead and write anyway cuz if I don’t I’ll explode.

Remember my little chico friend? You know, the one who said those dreaded words, “I just want to be friends.” Well, he meant it. He really meant it.

After he said that I was unsure of what to expect cuz usually that phrase means, “I don’t want to have anything to do with you anymore.” But not with my lil chico. He really meant it. He still calls me everyday and comes to see me and tells me he thinks the world of me, only now, it’s weird cuz, he’s starting to treat me like I’m his big sister.

How I’ve gone from kissing in the car to giving him advice on life and dating is beyond me but on the real, I don’t mind. I mean, it bothered me at first when he told me a story about he and his friends going “hoe hunting” at the beach. (yeah, he really said that, he’s young, give him a break.) I’m thinking, “Should I be mad about this?” But then, it wasn’t like I was in love, more like lust actually. He’s a cutie with a soft curly afro and he’s Dominican which is ~sigh~ oh so lovely to me. Maybe God will use what could have been one hell bound relationship for His glory, you never know.

In fact, while chatting with a former foe turned friend, I realized that one of the reasons that I liked lil chico was because he reminded me of the man I believed was going to be my husband.

sidenote: For all of the new readers out there who haven’t trekked through my archives, it may be a good idea so I won’t have to retell stories. But, because I love you, here’s some background on me.

Once upon a time I was at a church that taught that you didn’t have to date to receive a mate. I received this teaching with my whole heart and mind. I just KNEW that my soulmate was going to appear and propose to me without ever even have taken me out on a date. If you want to read more about this check my BP page. I spelled it out clearly on there.

Eventually I believed that God had shown me who my husband was going to be and I was excited that even though I can be a bit wacko at times, someone was going to love me and accept me and adore me and my sons. So, as I was learning to hear from God, I really believed that God had clearly pointed him out. But since there was no dating involved in the teaching I was given, even though I thought we were soulmates, it seemed perfectly acceptable that he and I never spoke to each other. (Yeah, go ahead and laugh it seems funny to me now too.)

So, after almost a year and a half of this fantasy about this man, I move away to Miami and leave him behind. I was sad, thinking that I had left my husband, but in reality it was all in my head. I hadn’t heard from God at all. I guess it was just me.

But wow, you know it taught me something powerful. That you can miss God and be okay. I mean, it’s not like I proclaimed my love for him publicly. No one knew, okay, no one at my church knew about what I felt and I never told him. I honestly, truly, 100%, undoobatably felt in my heart that he was the one. But I was wrong. And that’s okay. It’s okay to be wrong sometimes.

Loving him in my mind kept me warm at night. When my baby daddy would act up and treat me like crap, I would think, “That’s okay cuz Golden Boy loves me and he wants to be with me, although he’s not supposed to show it right now.” It gave me comfort, even though it was fake, that I was good enough for someone to love and that someone would love me and my sons.

How do I feel about dating now?

Dating sucks. I don’t want to do it. I’m not in the mood for men and the games you have to play.

Don’t let him know you like him too early.

Don’t call him back everytime you get a missed call. Make him wait.

If you want him to respect you, make him wait for sex- but always keep another “friend” on the side in case of an emergency.

Make him chase you.

Get money. Get money. Get money. A nicca needs to pay for your time.

La, la, la.. I’m not listening. I’m not hearing those rules. I’m not playing that game. I hate games anyway. From Monopoly to poker to video games to pool- I hate them all, they bore me. So it’s no wonder why I can’t get down with this dating game mess.

Concerned Friend: But how will you ever get married if you don’t want to date?

Me: Who said I wanna get married?

How about a sista plans to live her life man-FREE! I can just enjoy my sons and write and teach and do all sorts of cool stuff. I can get my romantic fix through my friends- IF any of them ever get it together in the romance department. Come on ladies, you all know about my vicarious living!

Do I sound bitter? Maybe just a little, huh?

Maybe you’re right. I am bitter.

But what else can I do? I tried it the way my old church taught it- I didn’t date. I believed I heard from God. I was wrong.

I tried it the way I’ve seen it done for years- I met someone I liked, had lots of sex, had two kids. He left me.

I even gave it the old college try once again- I met someone new and I dated him (after so many years of not dating anyone) and what do I get? “Let’s be friends so I can tell you all about the girls I really like.”

Hmmm.. This is enough to make a sista flip it. I thought about it too. You know, being with a woman. Would I be happier? Would it work? The only thing I can’t get past is that whole sex thing. I mean, I never want to look at a coochie up close. Don’t want breasts against my chest either. I guess it won’t work then.

Oh well. This blog is not one where you came to read about man drama anyway. I realize that throughout my whole blog you won’t really read any dating-gone-bad stories until recently. And since you’ve come back anyway, there’s gotta be something else you like about my life. Sorry, but no soap opera about men up in here.

I’ll just share whatever is in my head. Good, bad and peculiar(read-ugly). As peculiar as my baby daddy’s girlfriend.

I know, I’m mean, but I won’t erase what I wrote cuz I don’t care.

Writing is like going to the bathroom. The urge builds up and then, You HAVE to do it, and once it’s done… ahhh sweet relief.

Now, I think I can go to sleep.

Good For a Laugh

There’s this movie that’s hilarious that I think you should see.

It’s called Malibu’s Most Wanted. There’s this white rapper who calls himself B-Rad and he is absolutely terrible. One of his rhymes ended like this:

Makes me wanna vomit

And clean it up with comet

The earth is my plah-net



Ha, ha, ha… He’s worse than me!

Talkin Bout

Oh, I hadn’t even told you about my last speaking engagement at FIU. Remember I was nervous because I didn’t know what I was going to say to these budding writers. It took me a few days but I got my presentation together.

The night before the presentation I put on the finishing touches and clicked the save as button to save it to my disk so that I could take it with me. Then it happened- my computer froze. I tried unsuccessfully to reboot my computer five times, but it wouldnt even turn back on.

It was almost 2 am by then and I panicked, woke my lil sister up and asked her to fix the computer. She had some problems at first but she got the computer up and running but it wouldn’t allow her to save it to the disk. Quick thinking reminded me that I could just email it to myself and open it up when I got there.

The next day I was pumped as I walked onto the empty college campus. I smiled at the young students who were attending the journalism day. It was so funny, these kids were wearing matching t-shirts, repping their school’s respective newspaper staff. They looked like gang members but their weapon of choice was the mighty pen.

My session began at 10:25. I stood in front of the audience and, ~poof~ like magic, it all came together. When I tell you that I know that I know that I know that I am called to speak, uplift and teach- I’m for real! The students in my workshop responded well to my lesson. They were taking notes as if I had the key to life in my presentation.

There’s nothing like teaching a group of people who are hungry to learn. The entire time they were writing furiuosly and smiling up at me. Even the teachers were nodding their heads in agreement to the tips and stories I told about how to become a better writer.

As the presentation went on I noticed more and more students coming in to my workshop. The place was almost full by the time I ended. After the presentation was over, a crowd of people rushed to the front to shake my hand and tell me what a great job I had done. One teacher remarked, “I just want you to be able to put a face to the name that you will see because I definately want you to come to my school to speak to my students.” I nodded and smiled and she continued. “You can talk about writing or whatever else you want to talk about, they just need to meet you.”

Another young lady said, “I was in another workshop but I had to leave. The lady was so dry and stiff. I wish I could have been in here the whole time because you were great and I learned a lot. Can I keep in touch with you, ya know, just in case?” Ofcourse!



Another group of young ladies stayed talking to me for a good while about blogging and technology. They were so excited because I recommended blogging as a great way to develop your writing skills. Their school had banned blogging because they thought it was too dangerous and they asked me to come and speak to their administration because everyone blogs and they wanted the restriction lifted.

I beamed, excited that a few more speaking engagements would come out of this. Man, the feeling that you have valuable knowledge to share is unmatchable. To think I may have inspired one young writer to go for the gusto brings tears to my eyes. More than I want success for myself, I want success for the young people I am trying to reach out to. I want them to realize their purpose in life and to go after it with everything in them.

I remember I wrote one time: “There’s nothing like knowing your purpose in life. What you were put on this earth to do.” There isn’t. There are a lot of people who haven’t figured it out yet but I say, there is SOMETHING in your heart. It may not be grand plans to save the world but there is some contribution needed that only you can fill.

All in all, I give myself a B for the presentation. I spoke way too fast, they couldn’t keep up with me and I could have had a few more pictures. But the look on their faces as I spoke, I will never forget that. The hungriness in their eyes gave me chills.

I have become the woman that I wanted to be. When people look at me they say, “There’s something about her- and I want it too.”

Yeah, there’s something about me. A deep rooted knot linked in my soul. If you pay close attention you’ll see what it is, and if you ask you’ll get it too.

Affirmation for the day: Right now I am exactly where God wants me to be.

Hanes Her Way

I must be getting old.

These thongs are starting to get annoying.

I’ve begun to fantasize about more coverage, but I hate those ugly panty lines.

Too much info? Maybe. But, oh well.

Faces

I had a pretty interesting weekend and it’s not because I partied all weekend long.

I actually had some time to think about things even more than I usually do. I realized that sometimes I try to make things fit when they are not supposed to. I make exceptions to my standards to satisfy my needs at the time which always ends up in regret.

I realized that my first instinct is usually the right instinct and if you have to talk yourself into doing something, it’s probably not supposed to happen anyway.

I’m not trying to be ambiguous, it’s just that I can’t bear to write what’s really in my heart. I hate this feeling but for the first time, I feel like I have a secret that I can’t share. No, I’ve never cheated, rarely do I outright lie and I’m not a vindictive person, but I do struggle with making excuses to do things that I know will not benefit my relationship with God. I do these things because, well, I don’t know. Yes I do. I do these things because it feels good right now.

There are so many things about myself that I need to improve. Like, saying NO, when I need to say no. I let my friends sway my decisions and that’s not always a good thing. I’m way too sensitive and I take the negative out of any situation before the positive even crosses my mind. I actually listen to and ingest the negativity spewed by my children’s father. Why do I still listen to him? He thinks I am a loser, ok, that’s been said already. Why do I still listen and meditate on his words?

The one thing that I have noticed that really bothers me is, I don’t write for myself anymore. I’ve started to write for an audience. And that’s cool if you are blogging for comments, but it’s taking away my ability to be totally transparent. I want to write freely without worrying what someone will say.

And the hardest part is being a Christian and trying to be right but not being honest about what you feel because you have to uphold this image or it reflects poorly on Christians everywhere.

I know the perception you have in your mind- Christians are supposed to be loving, giving and perfect. You have this image, yet you can rarely find one who fits the mold so you’re skeptical about the whole organized religion thing. Well, regardless of a church or a book or a doctrine. I love God because He is who He is in my life.

The only one in my life, who forgives AND forgets. The only one who watches me mess up and still loves me anyway. I turn my back on Him and He’s always there, waiting for me, reminding me that He still loves me and always will.

I think being a Christian is about realizing that you do need help. Those of us who love God, are really weak in some areas but we find our strength in Him.

Judge less, love more. Forgive.

On the prowl

So yeah today I woke up extra early to take my boys to school, drop my lil sister off at work and then go pick up my uncle so he could come over and I could do his resume before taking him to this job fair that I saw advertised.

I got to his house around 8:30 and that man was still sleeping. I banged on the door, and then his room window and he jumped up with some excuse about having to stay around the house today. I shrugged and left him standing in the driveway.

I got home and did my daily job search routine. Which includes:

Taking the Sunday paper and making fax cover sheets for all the jobs that I thought I was qualified for. I circle the jobs on Sunday, but I don’t fax the resumes until Monday.

Scrutinizing my resume and cover letter. I’ve been told it’s impressive, but it can always be tweaked a bit.

Faxing the resumes out to the companies. This is the WORST part of the job hunt. The fax machine is the devil. Always jamming and crap. It takes forever, my back starts hurting from standing there hand feeding the doggone thing, but finally its all over.

Emailing my resume to the job listings that had email addresses on them. Most companies provide a fax number, which is always better because a faxed resume is given more attention than an emailed resume simply because it is already in the HR Manager’s hands and they at least have to glance at it, while emails can pile up in a person’s inbox. Ya feel me?

Then I head over to my favorite job sites, Careerbuilder, Hot Jobs, I need a job.com, America’s Job Bank, and Apple One top see what kind of positions are avaialable.

I’m looking for jobs as an Executive Assistant to whoever. That is where my experience lies and I love being an assistant. But now, I’m so desperate I have decided to try for receptionists positions too. Which I know I will ENJOY, cuz I LOVE answering phones and being the office hostess, but those jobs pay $10 or $11 an hour, and that ain’t enough to take care of my family, unless I want to live in public housing. Which may not be all that bad since I was raised in public housing and I think I turned out alright.

So after my first glance at the job sites, I decide not to take the time to apply because I had to get ready for the job fair and that meant, figuring out what I would wear, what I was gonna do with my hair (this afro is out of control and needs a trim), printing out at least 15 copies of my resume and getting on Mapquest to get directions to this hotel that seems to be in Coral Gables near the University of Miami campus. Oh no, sounds like I’ll have to take the expressway again. ~sigh.

I’m getting better at driving on the expressway but I still hate it. I’m still having a fit when I have to change lanes. Once I was taking my lil sis to a job interview and we ended up 50 avenues away from where we were supposed to be simply because I was too afraid to change lanes. She was so frustrated with me. But I got her there on time and she got me back by making me wait in the car for FOUR HOURS while she interviewed and went for a drug test.

Why did she call me from the drug testing lab- I had already been waiting for two hours, sitting in the car- and tell me that she dropped her pee cup on the floor so she had to drink some water and wait until she had to pee again?! I thought she was joking. She wasn’t. That’s how a simple, ride to a job interview turned into a four hour fiesta in my car. But hey… she got the job and now a sister’s getting PAID. So, I’m happy for her.

Dang, where was I? I always get off track like that.

Oh yeah. So, I’m trying to figure out what to wear and I realize that I don’t have many business suits because at the newspaper (where I was the Executive Assistant) we wore uniforms, so I never had to buy professional clothes and at the VA Hospital (where I was the Program Assistant), it was business casual and before that at the TV station (where I was the Assistant to the Director of Corporate Support) I was still a student so I could wear flip flops and daisy dukes if I wanted to.

But I do have a really nice suit, but it’s a pants suit. And since I have this crazy looking afro I decided that I needed to expose as much of my femininity as possible by wearing a conservative dress that shows my great legs, with this basic black jacket that Ruby picked out for me.

I printed out my resumes, got the directions, got dressed, noticed a hole in my left stocking near my big toe, grabbed some fingernail polish and dabbed a little on it to stop it from spreading, pulled on my dress, wet my hair, tried to style it, ended up simply combing my hair with my fingers in an attempt to get that I-know-my-hair-is-looking-crazy-but-I-did-it-on-purpose look and meticulously applied my makeup.

Now, if there’s one thing I know how to do it’s put on some makeup. And when I feel like my hair is looking crazy I make sure I have my eyeshadows blended, my eyeliner lined just right and my lip liner and gloss shining. You can’t tell me I don’t belong on the cover of some magazine! When I put on my makeup- watch out!

So, I sashay out to my car and get gas and I’m on my way.

Here we go again. Turning onto I95 South to face the big lion. At one point I call Anna to ask if I’m going the right way and she assures me that I am. I love Anna!

So, after driving for about 40 minutes, I’m passing by the intersection that the directions say I’ll find the hotel. No such place. I turn around and come back. Nothing. I call the hotel, they repeat the same directions, I turn around and drive by again- nothing. I call back about four times, asking myself WHY ME?!

I am finally about to give up when I see the hotel on my right, about five blocks away from the intersection that I was told to stop by. Oh well.

My eyes scanned the parking lot for a space. No spaces but plenty of Beemers and Lexus trucks parked out there. I took a deep breath as I surveyed the other people stepping out of their cars to go to the fair. This wasn’t a bootleg job fair like I went to two weeks ago where I was the only one there with a college degree, THEY were there.

You know who I’m talking bout- ~whispering~ white people.

Yeah and they were suited up, brief cased up, polished up, ready to get it! Now, you know this was serious!

I found a spot a block away and I parked and got out. I caught a glimpse of myself in the window of my car and frowned. My makeup was still banging but the drive down there had completely dried out my afro and it was looking a hot mess. A big orange hot mess! And then I noticed a-what is that?- deodorant stain on my lapel. Ughhh.

I shook off my frustration and walked over to the hotel, hyping myself up in my mind. I noticed the dissappointed looks on the faces of those who were leaving the job fair and I stopped one guy.

“Hey, how does it look in there?”

“Man, it sucks. There’s no companies there. Maybe like 2 and they suck.”

I rolled my eyes. “Man!”

“Yeah, I know. And I came all the way from Boca for this,” he said shaking his head.

“Well, since you’re in South Miami, you may as well have lunch down here, there are tons of great restaurants on this street. Enjoy yourself.”

I waved at him and walked into the building.

He was right. Why did the best booth set up in the joint belong to Mary Kay?

I looked around, slid my resume into the piles set up on the table and left.

Boo on that job fair.

I take off my jacket and call Anna to see if she’d like to have lunch. She tells me to come on over. I hear someone in the background and I know she wants me to meet her new boyfriend but I don’t want to really. She says he’s ugly. LOL. I don’t feel like laughing at him just yet.

But I go back to Liberty City-the hood- and park at Anna’s house. When she answers the door I’m already laughing silently cuz I know this monk-monk she’s dating is gonna be butt ugly. But for some reason Anna loves ugly men. That’s her flava.

But I walk in and there’s this moderately handsome man sitting at Anna’s computer. He’s not ugly by a long shot. He has dreads and a nice smile, but I see what Anna is saying, he looks so different from the men she usually dates. First off, he’s not jet black and he doesn’t weigh over 200 pounds. Anna likes’em big and black like bears.

He seems a little nervous cuz he sees me eyeing him, but I’m shooting daggers at Anna with my eyes cuz this dude is not ugly, just a little different looking. I wouldn’t say I’d date him, but when you consider someone for your man, you have to think of the children. If you had children with this man would they hate you forever? I don’t want my kids to be mad at me, so I’m gonna make babies with someone who is decent looking. And this dude is kid-worthy.

Anna treats me to my favorite fried chicken place: Church’s Chicken. Mmmmm! And I go home to strip and get a nap before picking up my boys.

My phone rings and I don’t recognize the number so I answer it.

Me: Sure, I have a minute to talk.

I then engage myself in one of the most involved telephone job interviews that I have ever been a part of. She’s basically telling me what I always hear- Your resume is great-blah-blah-blah-your experience is excellent-blah-blah- Tell me about your experience and how you think your experience is ideal for this job.

Lady done messed up now. Don’t ask me that. It’s like asking an old person to tell you a bedtime story, I love to talk. So, I sit up and spit my game in the most professional of manner. It turns out my experience perfectly matches what she needs to fill a position as the Executive Assistant to the CEO of some big foundation here in Miami.

She says she is very impressed, asks me how much I am looking to make- I tell her the WRONG NUMBER! Dag! I always do that. If a potential employer asks you how much you want to make, always go higher than what you actually want. I’m so used to telling the doggone truth that I automatically say the EXACT number that I want which will probably get me a few thousand lower after negotiations. But oh well.. My honesty is my downfall.

We set up an interview for the next day and I’m left to wonder what to do with this crazy orange afro. If I had money I would braid it, but I don’t. All I have is a few brothers who cut hair so I called one of them and he came over to inspect the damage and told me he’d shape me up in the morning.

So I’ll let you know how things go, and even if they don’t go well, you know I’ll always be here, writing and sharing my heart.

Con mucho gusto.

Ooh Look at This

Music From Your Senior Year

Man…this takes me back.

Senior Year

17

Skipping Class

Riding the #17 bus to school

Lunch at the beach

Crab legs

Went through about

3 boyfriends

Maybe 4

Let’s see

Mike

Bernard

Donald

Joe

First love

Loss of innocence

First heartbreak

Scholarship searching

SAT taking

College acceptance

Senior Trip- New York

Grad Nite- Disney World

Student Exchange Program- Dominican Republic

Voted Most Popular

Class President

First grown up haircut

Fresh new beeper

Message playing

Aaliyah’s

One In a Million

Shopping with friends

Spent nights

Listening

Wishing

Along with Freddy Cruz

on Hot 105

Crooning to

4 Seasons of Loneliness

By Boyz II Men

Booty Shaking to

Uncle Al DJ’s

Dreaming

Of a better life

Senior Prom

Stayed out all night

Graduation

Front row seat

Final Bow

Saying goodbye

Wondering what

Lies ahead

College…the next chapter