Author: TPatterson

2005 Blog Awards

Let’s all nominate each other. Don’t make me have to have my own awards again. LOL

Click here to nominate me for whatever. I like the Best Writing of A Blog or the Best Topical Blog or the Tagline Blog or nominate your favorite blog. You have until tonight at 10pm. Let’s represent.

Love,

Tee

The Case Against Michael Jackson

I just read all about the alleged molestation charges being brought against Michael Jackson. You know what, I believe he did it.

I think Michael is crazy. Celebrities can be crazy too. In fact, I think you have to be a little bonkers to be able to handle the spotlight like that.

I once read an email forward where the author urged everyone to pray for Michael Jackson’s honesty. He made a great point. Michael’s admission to the guilt of his crime could help so many other victims. He would bring world-wide attention to the sickness of pedophiles. IF he was honest, he could be studied and he would be able to provide insight into the mind of other pedophiles, therefore allowing police and other officials to be able to identify and capture them. Just like this saying goes, It takes one to know one.



Read The Smoking Gun’s Exclusive Report

A Little of This, A Little of That

I was a little sad this morning after watching the news. But I guess that’s why I don’t watch the news, it always makes me sad.

They had specials about the mudslides in California and the relief efforts for the people devastated by the tsunami. I try not to think too hard about natural disasters because look where I live. I’m down here at the tip of a peninsula, surrounded on 3 sides by the ocean, just 15 minutes away from the shore.

But anyway…I don’t want to depress myself so let me not depress you. I’ve been having so much fun. I’m enjoying life and being extremely thankful for the little things, like my Mama who keeps my kids for me while I work two jobs. My schedule is crazy. I work this temp job that I absolutely LOVE from 9-5 and then I work my customer service job from 7pm until midnight. I love my customer service job too. When I answer the phone I say, “Thank you for calling ——, Ciara speaking. How may I help you?”

Yep, I changed my name to Ciara when I’m on the phones. Why? Cuz I got moves like that. Naw, I’m just playing. Really, I hate to keep having to tell people my name. My name is so unusual that when people hear it, they always ask me to repeat it and then to spell it.

“Hi, I’m —–.”

“Excuse me. What did you say your name was?”

“It’s ——-.”

“Reaallly? How did you get a name like that?”

“My mother was very young when she had me.”

“Oh,” raucous laughter. “That explains it! But it’s pretty. Very unique.”

“Mmm, hmm.”

I’m not trying to have that conversation 100 times a day.

I’m also looking forward to sharing some great news. I’ll keep it under wraps until all the t’s have been crossed and the i’s have been dotted.

I love you all!

One time for my girl TAMARA who is finally ONLINE! Remember she didn’t even check her email. She finally checked out my blog for the first time TODAY! Here’s what she said:

Damn Tee like that? Yea I really feel computer illiterate. That website is off da chain I have lots to read and you are so animated you make things sound so exciting that I forget that I was at some of these places.



Wow. An actual email from my bestfriend. I can’t believe it. If I can get her to start her own blog, man, that would be like WHOA! Her parents bought her a new computer for Christmas so maybe I can swing it. She is one of the most fun chicks to go out with and she is really my heart, along with Anna ofcourse. I’m so excited!

I

AM

HAPPY!!!

What a relief!

I’m back!

SO many stories to tell and a whole day off to celebrate Dr. Martin Luther King’s birthday. So in between wrestling with my son and sleeping I’ll be sure to sit and write about what’s going on in my world.

Stay Tuned and I’m glad you stopped by.

Ms. Tee

Party Over Here!

Wow, now that I’ve moved to my new url I actually FEEL like I’ve moved somewhere new. Like I just got a brand new apartment but with all the same furniture. Isn’t that weird?

I went to 3 parties this weekend and had a very, um, emotionally charged time. You know I had to share.

Party #1

I’ve been working this customer service job at night that was very laid back until I actually started WORKING. I mean, customer service is not as easy as you think. People are calling you and writing emails asking for your help with their problems concerning the service you provide. So, you have to know EVERYTHING about the company and its services.

Training lasted for about a month and I was loving it until I actually took my first call. Then I realized that I wasn’t as knowledgeable as I thought I was and that bothered me. Usually, when I take a job it’s a job that I have plenty of experience in and am comfortable with. Having never worked a job like this I felt challenged because the computer programs, the language and the service was all new to me. I’m so used to shining at work that I became disheartened that at this job, I was barely keeping up.

But I promised myself that I would keep trying until I got better and all it really takes is a little practice. The real story behind this customer service job is my interaction with my co-workers.For a little history, I got this job through my friend Dianna who has worked there for over a year. I always liked to tease Dianna because from the pictures and stories she told me her job was like the girl’s job on Baby Boy, you know, his first baby mama. Where she sat in this cubicle on the phone and had static with her co-workers over men and random mess.

Funny how after teasing her about the job, I was now working there. But Dianna works the day shift so my experience would be a bit different from hers. The interesting thing about this job is the different personalities that ecompass the call center. In my past work experience, I had never worked with young people and certainly not young Black people. You know what comes with working around young people? DRAMA!

Dianna warned me that it would be difficult not to get caught up in all the he say, she say, but I was not hearing her because I had never been a part of a gossip circle and even in highschool, never had any enemies.

So after I finished my one on one training it was now time to be thrown into the masses and see what everyone was like. I was often paired with different reps so that I could train with them. There are so many amazing characters there. Each with their own little story to tell and you know I’m the one who is going to ask plenty of questions. Everyone seemed nice, except for a few women. I had to remind myself that damn, everyone is not as friendly as I am and not everyone is as open as I am. Even though Miami is in the south, you can not consider Miami to be Southern, because the typical southern friendliness is nowhere to be found here.

Last Thursday night was my night job’s office party. I was a bit nervous about going because I don’t know anyone in the office like that and they are all very cozy with each other. But my girl Dianna told me to go and have fun. So I meet everyone at this restaurant on Biscayne and when I walk in, no one really notices or they act like they don’t. LOL! I told you I don’t have any friends there. LOL!

I say Hi to our boss and walk over to the bar. It’s an open bar for all of us. I order an Apple Martini and sit down. I hear my name being called. I look across the bar. It’s Dianna! YAY!

I walk over to her and try to give her a hug. I spill my drink all over her. Oy! Sorry chick. You’re wearing black, it won’t show.

We go to the bathroom and clean up and I’m feeling like the biggest dork. I already don’t want to be there and now this mess! She assures me that I’ll have fun if I stay and I let her talk me into it. I tell her to go back to her other friends and to check me later.

I find a seat at the corner of the bar and sit down like a duck. QUACK! I order another drink and sip slowly, looking at everyone and feeling out of place. By this time people are getting pretty tipsy and some stop by to say Hi to me.

I order another Apple Martini and then a shot of vodka. Dianna comes over and I can tell everyone is feeling right. All of a sudden everyone is best friends with everyone else and we’re all hugging and singing and laughing.

We sit down to dinner and it’s amazing how much bolder I get when I drink. I’m talking to everybody and asking questions.

This one girl walks over and I hear her talking to someone else about being a lesbian. This girl is really cute. I’m so surprised. I ask her if she’s serious.

She points to her girlfriend. “We’ve been togther for two years and I’m very happy.”

“So, you just, don’t want a man at all?” I ask her.

“Nope,” she says and smiles.

All of a sudden I am little embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, I’m just…curious.” I say to her.

She gives me a look, smiles and walks away.

Wait. Did I just tell a lesbian that I’m curious? LOL! Oh my gosh!

I wait until I feel like I can drive and then I leave, taking one of my cute co-workers with me. We’ll call him Donald. Now Donald and I had been sorta flirting off and on for a minute but it wasn’t that deep. I thought he was very cool. I liked talking to him.

When I get back to his place he invites me in and I go, reluctantly.

When we step in his roommate comes out of his room and I’m thinking, “He looks familiar.”

It turns out his roommate works with us too. As usual, me with my whole over analyzation, is thinking, “So, I’m here late at night with this guy at his place and his roommate who works with us is here too. What if he tells everyone I’m sleeping with this guy? What if I’m labeled the office hoe?”

I don’t have any experience dating/chilling with someone that I work with but I’ve heard the horror stories and I don’t want none.

I leave quickly and head on home.

Party #2

So it’s Saturday night and my cousins have invited me to a WAITING TO EXHALE night. Supposed to be some drinks, food and fun. I take a couple of fruit platters and get cozy on the floor as we listen to Fantasia’s CD.

This is my first time listening to the CD and I kinda like it. Then this song comes on about Baby Mama’s and before I know it, I’m crying. Damn, that hit home.

After some food and some laughs we all get deep and the topic of the night is, yeah, you guessed it- MEN. Now my cousins and their bestfriends are sharing about why and how they cheated on their men and what keeps the men coming back.

At the end of the night, I’m fine to drive home so I do and get some much needed rest.

Party #3

My friend Andy calls me to invite me to his breakfast party and I decide that I will go. His party starts at 10 am on Sunday morning and I’m a little nervous about driving to Broward County by myself but I make the trip in less than 15 minutes thanks to some good directions.

When I get there he and his friend are cleaning and I pitch in by vaccuuming the floor. Andy is making sausages, grits, bacon, eggs, biscuits and serving cocktails early in the morning. By 10:30 the house is packed and we’re all grubbing and listening to old school jamz. It’s a 25 and over crowd.

All of a sudden I hear Endless Love and my emotions are flipping. I’m having flashbacks of my children’s father and I find myself wondering what I did that was so wrong for him to leave me. I feel guilty about feeling this way because he treats me like crap but I did really love him. I did whatever I could to make him happy. I was very open emotionally and sexually. I don’t think there is anymore I could have done. Again, my sensitive self takes over and I’m crying. LOL! I’m so emotional.

I go into the bathroom to calm down and instead I just let it all flow. I cry harder than I’ve allowed myself to cry in a long time and it feels good. I’ve always been afraid to cry over him. Crying over some man who doesn’t treat you well is just plain dumb. So, I guess I’m dumb then. I didn’t realize that I was still hurting this much. Still feeling rejected. Still feeling like I wasn’t good enough for him.

And then I cried over the could-have-been relationships that I have enountered since my second son was born. Nothing ever materialized and I always chalked it up to the fact that something was wrong with me. “I’m just too much.” I’d tell myself. “If I could just hold it in. Be a little less like myself sometimes. Be a little less emotional, a little less sexual, a little less eager to please, then maybe someone would accept me and not walk away.”

I dream of the day when someone will look at me and say, “This girl is crazy…But I can’t get enough of her.”

I clean myself up as best as I can and I re enter the party. Everyone is writing on tiny blue slips of paper and we’re about to play a questions game. Andy places everyone’s questions into a clear pitcher and one by one we all take a turn reading a question and everyone gets a chance to answer it. The questions ranged from spiritual to music, to sexual to important life decisions. This was clearly a great crowd of people.

The question I asked was: What is your heart’s desire for 2005?

My answer: Financial Stability

A Whole New World

A few weeks ago I was in the fleamarket buying some mango salad for me and my Mama when my cell rings.

I recognize the number. It’s the temp agency. I roll my eyes.
These chicks havent called me in forever! What do they want now?

“Hello.” I answer stoically.
“Hi Tee, this is Carmen from the temp agency.”
“Yeah.”
“I have an assignment for you. Are you available?”
“Yeah.”
“Good, the assignment starts on Monday, the hours are 9-5 and the position is Assistant to the Headmaster at —, a private school.”
I raise my eyebrow.

Well, this is exactly the type of position I had been looking for. I accept the assignment and ask her to email me the details.

On Monday morning I head over to the school. I had heard about this school before. It was close to my house and I knew it was a fancy private school for rich kids. The tuition is ridiculous but the school was beautiful. Olympic sized swimming pool, armed guards and all.

I met my supervisor in the parking lot. She was surprised to see me there 30 minutes early. I’m always punctual, or rather, always early. I hate late people and I’ll do anything not to be one of them.

She is very pleasant to me as we walk through the school and reach Primary Hall where I’ll be working. She shows me my office and I sit down and get comfy. The Headmaster comes in and he too is surprised to see me there early.

Being his assistant was great. There was nothing difficult about the job at all. He asks me to do something, I do it. Quickly. No big deal. The main reason why I am such a fast worker is because I want to be free to have fun on the internet. If I’m done with all of my projects I can chat online and on the phone all day with my girls. CHAT CHAT CHAT CHAT! This job allowed me to do just that. I’m loving it!

As I meet people I am impressed by how welcoming they are. They are patient and kind to me and I explain to them that I am only temporary but they give me secret smiles as if they think that I’ll stick around.

I’m in administrative heaven. Especially as I talk to people and I hear that there is very little turnover in this school. Most people have been there for 10 years and never plan to leave.

As the days go by I’m falling in love. The main reason is that I feel so welcomed by everyone. I’m also very happy to be having such a positive experience with white people. Did I mention that black faces are a rarity around this place? There are only a few, but they are just as friendly as the others.

Everyday I go in and I smile to myself. I began to hope that they will hire me permanently. I later learn that I was only called in to fill the position until the new assistant is able to start so there’s no chance of me getting the job. I don’t care. I love being there, I love looking at all of the nice cars and fat wedding rings and chit chatting with Miami’s elite. A lot of Miami’s big business owners send their kids to school there. And a few well known celebrities have enrolled their children as well.

The business manager informs me that the new assistant will be starting the next Monday. I sigh. So much for a good thing. She smiles and tells me she doesn’t want me to leave. There is another position opening in the Upper School that she thinks I would be great for and she asks if she can forward my resume to the Director. Uh, yeah…

When I go to meet him he’s very nice. He says he’s heard all about my outstanding work ethic and endearing personality. He asks for my references and promises to let me know something soon.

While I’m there I’m invited to a faculty party. It’s supposed to be a luau at the school’s pool and we’re all instructed to dress in Hawaiian attire.

I’m excited about going because I want to see how the other half parties. When I arrive I get butterflies in my stomache. I call Anna and she tells me to just calm down and try to find any other Black ppl and sit with them.

I hang up with her and walk up to the greeting table. Hand shakes all around and the Headmaster’s wife tells me that she’s heard great things about me. They give me a lai, (sp) and I walk into the pool area. It’s late, around 8pm, the sky is dark but teh pool area is beautifully decorated with torches and the pool is filled with lit candles. There’s a mechanical surf board set up in one corner and tables set up for everyone to sit down with little fish bowls with real fish swimming in them. I don’t really know anyone well so I’m wondering who I can sit with when I walk by this guy who looks up at me and says, “Well, well, I don’t know who you are but you have to come and sit with us. This table is the shit.”

I laugh and respond. “Let me go get a drink and I’ll be right back.” I’m so grateful for his invitation. If he turns out to be an idiot I don’t care, at least I won’t have to sit alone. I’m soaking in the atmosphere as I spie servants walking around in bow-ties serving champagne and appetizers on silver trays. Wow, just like in the movies. I walk up to the open bar and the set up is so beautiful. There is a waterfall and plenty of fruit and loads of liquor. I order a strawberry daquiri and head back to the table and the gentleman who invited me to sit with him.

When I get there he’s smiling at me and offers me his seat. “You’re beautiful,” he tells me. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“Well, I’m temping in the Headmasters office. I’m his temporary assistant.”

“I’m doing the same thing in the Lower School. It’s a great job. This is a great school.”

“I’ve realized that.”

“Then we have to get you here permanently.”

I laugh.

As the night goes on I am simply amazed. I spend time meeting the other teachers and finding out about their lives and their interests. One couple owns their own jewelry company. His wife is a designer while he handles the business portion. They invite me to their studio and gives me a card.

The DJ breaks in and announces that the show is about to begin. Ooh, real Polynesian dancers! Real fire-eaters and everything.

The food is excellent! I’m drooling over the seafood and delicious appetizers. I look up and I see a Black man walk in. Finally. I was the only Black person there until he arrived.

Someone whispers, “Have you met Randall yet? He’s the middle school PE teacher. He’s single.”

“No,” I reply as I give Randall the once over. He’s tall, about 6’4″ and well built. Chocolate with a nice smile. But the funny thing is, the man standing next to him is who really caught my eye. To his right was a wide eyed Purchasing assistant I would later meet named Steve.

Steve is a little shorter, probably around 6 feet tall. Sandy blonde hair and electric green eyes. I smile at him and he waves at me and mouths hello.

“Ooh, look at me, checking out white men. Let me get outta here.”I think and laugh at myself.

The next Monday I’m on my way to the cafeteria for lunch. This is no typical school cafeteria. They hire caterers to provide lunch for the students at a whopping cost of $350 per semester for each student. The salad bar and sandwhich bar are great, but they also serve hot food like fajitas and other stuff I can’t even pronounce.

I get my lunch, a chicken fajita and some fruit and I walk outside. It’s a beautiful day so I figure I’ll eat in the garden. The garden looks like something out of a magazine. The flowers are flourishing, there are trees that offer just the right amount of shade and I don’t feel like I’m at a school at all. I feel like I’m at a romantic getaway.

I hear the grass rustling next to me and I look up. Oh my gosh, it’s Steve.

“Hi,” he smiles down at me. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

“Uh, no,” I stammer. “Go ahead.”

We talk and I find out that he works in purchasing and he loves working there. I tell him about my time at UF and that I’m loving my time at this school. His cell phone rings and he tells me he has to go but he hopes he’ll see me around.

Damn, that man has some pretty eyes. I laugh and return to my office to chat with my friend Dianna and tell her all about him.

I don’t know, I guess it’s the change in environment but these people at this school are loving me. I get compliments everyday from the women who work there. They love my haircut, they love my smile, they love my personality. They think I’m great. It’s hard not to get a big head when so many people are telling you how much they appreciate you being there.

I was even fascinated by meeting one of the parents. He came into the office and sat down. I greeted him and asked him to wait until the person he needed to see was available. We started chatting and I found out that he was a photographer named Brett. His crazy hair and eccentric dress reinforced his creative career. He also had some sort of accent indicating that he was not from this country. He told me he traveled to Europe about 10 times a year and he did fashion shoots as well as books and other odd jobs. His favorite was the time he spent in Africa photographing the African tribes. “I am very much interested in the beauty of the Africans.” he said and smiled at me. Look at this white man, flirting with me. LOL!

Last week he called my office and greeted me by name. I didn’t quite remember him but after a couple of seconds it clicked.

“Oh.. heyyy. How are you? Any exciting assignments come up?” I asked, excited to hear about his extravagant world.
“Yeah, actually I’m on my way to Spain for 10 days to do a shoot. And I was wondering, uh, if you some time when I get back, could I take you out for some coffee?”
I’m shocked. I pause.
“Uh, sure. That would be great.”
“Really? Well, can I have your phone number so that I can call you when I get back?”
“Yes.”
“Nice talking to you. You’ll hear from me soon.”

Over the past few days I have received a few text messages from him. The latest one came this morning: Hi Tee, Have a great week. I’ll talk to you soon. Brett

Oh my gosh. I don’t even drink coffee. I wonder what I’m going to say to this man when we go out. On the real, I’m looking for some work on the side. He may need a writer or have the hook-up. You never know. I’ll never know unless I go.

My assignment is not over yet. They have moved me to the receptionist desk, meaning EVEN more time to chat and still earn some good money. I love being there.

Sometimes I swear that saying is so true, everything happens for a reason.

All Up In The Air

I have a second interview today.

I’m apprehensive about going because I don’t really want the job. I mean, it’s an AMAZINg job as the assistant to a wealthy publisher of an affluent magazine, but it’s all the way on South Beach and the hours are 9-6. This means I will have to find someone to pick up my children EVERYDAY from school and with traffic I won’t get home until nearly 7pm every night, IF I leave at exactly 6pm.

If I was single with no kids I would be crying with joy right now. I know I did well in the first interview but the last assistant left the job because she wanted to start a family. I already have a family so I know it’s going to be a conflict. If I had a husband I could probably work this job, but I don’t and I don’t want to put my sons off on others on a regular basis.

But the thing is, they’re very much interested and it would mean some STABLE income. I still havent heard from the Director here at the Upper School about the position I interviewed for. But it was a long weekend, maybe he’s just getting settled. I can’t let a permanent position pass when I am still unsure of where I stand at this school.

I would love to get the job at the school. It’s close to my house, to my son’s school and the environment is so pleasant. It could also lead to other positions within the school, who knows, maybe I can uplift and inspire the students here.

But off I go, to South Beach for my interview. I’ll let you know how things turn out.

Keep your fingers crossed.

Wacky Thoughts

Ahh… My feet feel better.

I’m always walking around here with these high heels on so today I decided, forget that, ima wear me some low heels. LOL! I HAVE to wear some type of heel, I’m only 5’1″.

Wearing heels makes me feel like a woman. In fact, wearing heels, wearing makeup and seeing the look on a man’s face when I smile at him, that makes me feel like a woman. Oh yeah and getting my period.

I don’t wear jeans and t-shirts (as an outfit) in public. Well, I’ll only wear them if I’m going to the grocery store. Otherwise I don’t think I need to wear that type of stuff because I’m done with college.

My friend Tonya called me yesterday. After telling her one of my stories she says, “You know you remind me of Eva. Your whole personality. Both of you know you are tight but you don’t want anyone else to know that you know you’re tight. Like you try to pretend like you don’t know.” huh?



My little sister cracks me up. One day I’m gonna feature her on this blog. The other day I heard her in the room with my sons. They were listening to music on her Ipod and my 4-year-old was telling her which songs to play and which songs to skip. When she got to ‘Knuck If You Buck’ he told her to skip it. She looked at him and said, “If you don’t like Knuck If You Buck, then I don’t love you.” “PLAY IT!” my son screamed.

We got in!

Well, we FINALLY got into Cafe Iguana on Monday night. This would have been my FOURTH time trying to get in but I was lucky this time. I was leaving work early on Monday night when I called my girl Melissa to bother her. She always text messages me while I’m at work saying: Hey, let’s go out. Like I can really go out, I’m at WORK!

Anyway, I called her and asked her if she wanted to go out. I didn’t really expect her to say yes. “Come pick me up right now.” She said. Damn. I looked down at my outfit. Now, every other time I had tried to get into Cafe Iguana I had been looking immaculate with my heels, makeup perfect and everything. Tonight I was just coming from work and I was wearing a plain sky blue button down shirt with the shirt tails hanging out and a pair of blue jeans with some tan boots. Very, uh, regular. So I called my girl Vicky to ask her what the dress code was on a Monday night. She said that ppl wore jeans so I felt better.

On my way to get Melissa, my phone rings and it’s Vicky. “Girl, I’m in my car. I left work early so I can go out with you. And guess what? We don’t have to wait in line. I have a VIP card that will get us all in for free.”

TRUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUEEEEEEE!

“We’ll meet you at your house then.”

We drive up to Pembroke Pines and enjoy a few laughs with Vicky before heading out to the spot. We don’t have to rush, we’re going VIP.

When we get there ofcourse the line is jam packed. After about 20 minutes of driving around in circles looking for a parking spot we finally find one and waltz up to the front of the ridiculous line.

Yay! We’re in!

The place is, oh my gosh…You HAVE to go there to feel me. The lights, the music, the furniture, the crowd, all make up one HOT HOT night spot. No wonder the wait in line is usually an hour or more.

For once, I’m not gonna go into too much detail, let’s just say your girl is STILL smiling from all that fun. I’m going back again, next time on a Thursday night. I heard the crowd is a little different then, more mixed races. I’ll give it a month or so though.

This weekend, we’re going to Coconut Grove to see Damon Wayans perform at the Improv.

Ya’ll know what? I LOVE being grown. I’m so happy. It’s crazy.

Yeah!

An Open Letter to My High School Algebra Teacher

Dear Ms. Olwell,

I couldn’t help but write this letter. I never thought I would have to but I do. First off, I’d like to apologize for skipping your class all those times. It was sixth period, after lunch, kinda hard to come back from the beach on a sunny day. You know how that is. And I’m sorry for sitting there in the front row with Dianna passing notes while blatantly ignoring your lectures.

See, I figured I was going to be a superstar. I just KNEW I was going to be a writer. I never thought algebra would have any part in my life. Oh Ms. Olwell, I was so wrong.

Why just yesterday I was at work when my business manager came to me requesting I build a table in Microsoft Word with a list of current tuition prices on it. The table compared our tuition prices with other private schools in the area. After my beautiful table was created I beamed with pride.

“Now,” she said while skimming another list with her eyes and frowning. “Take this year’s prices and compare it with last year’s prices for all of the schools. Make another column showing the percentage increase in tuition for each grade level from each school.”

I froze.

Who me?

“Sure, I can do that.” I said and rushed back to my desk.

“DIANNA!” I typed into the IM. “Do you remember how to do percentages?”

“Hell no girl. Now you know neither one of us was paying attention in Ms. Olwell class.” She typed back.

I called three people and emailed them my two lists praying that one of them would send me the answers before she came to check up on me.

My heart is beating fast and I’m trying to remember what I’m supposed to do. Why can’t I write a nice speech for her? Why can’t I write a jingle? I can write the bomb letter. Why she gotta ask me to do percentages, man? Now I look dumb.

“How’s that coming Tee?” she asks as she whisks by my desk.

“Uh, I’m working on it.” I respond tentatively.

“Any problems?” she pauses and looks back at me.

“I can do ANYTHING.” I say and smile at her. “Give me a minute, please. I’m almost done.”

I wait about five more minutes and my friend Stu calls my office.

“I just emailed it to you. You can enter it into your table now,” he says and laughs at me.

I look at it and breathe. “Thanks Stu.”

“All you gotta do for me is break me off some of that paycheck.”

I input the numbers, print it out and hand it to the business manager who simply glances at it, makes some copies and puts it into her briefcase as she heads out the door to her meeting.

Whew!

I really should’ve payed attention in class.

And you know what Ms. Olwell, you told me that my laziness would come back to haunt me. Lesson learned.

Yours Truly,

Ms. Tee

It’s My Season Shawty

I’m about to confess something deep. You won’t believe this and neither do I really, sometimes I think I’m even making it up, but by the missed call counter on my cell phone, it’s very much a reality.

Are you ready for this? Naw. You ain’t ready.

I, Ms. Tee, have been dating.

Yeah. Deep breath. Calm down. Relax.

Now SCREAM!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I can’t believe it either. Something happened in the New Year. Something changed in me. Something that I exude makes me very attractive to men all of a sudden. It’s more than the usual “Hey, you’re beautiful.” compliments that I get all the time. These are actual men who are doing whatever they can to persuade me to spend time with them. And I’m not talking 2 or 3 men, I’m talking 6 or 7 trying out for the team.

I’m like, “Hey, I have two kids, two jobs and NO TIME.” They are still running after me saying they will take 15 minutes if I can spare it.

Who me?

I’m not doing anything differently. I’m not being extra witty or extra sexy. (I’m sexy by nature, not cause I hate ya) I’m just having fun with my girls, going out more and not paying any men the least bit of attention and they come running. EVERYTIME I have said, “Ok, I’m gonna go out and have some fun with my chicas.” I end up with a handful of numbers.

There are certain things about me that I always thought turned men off. 1) I like to drink. 2) I am comfortable with my sexuality. 3) I am messy (ex: my dusty car) 4) I’m not afraid to say what I mean. No guessing games. I’m not coy by a long shot. 5) Not much of a challenge to figure out. Ask me and I’ll tell you straight up. I’m beginning to think, “Hey, ain’t nothing wrong with THAT!”

This week alone I have already had 3 “first dates” if you want to call them that. I call it, “the second look”. Which means I get to see that guy outside of the atmosphere in which we met. We talk and laugh and I decide if I want to see him again. So far this week, 2 No’s and 1 HELL YES!

You know, I’m scared a bit. I’m used to being admired from afar. But what do I say to these guys? Should I really be entertaining the thought of a relationship? I mean, I have two sons. I don’t want to subject them to craziness. And I’m actually afraid of ‘liking’ someone. Going out to eat is one thing. Laughing on the phone is another thing. I have no problem being friends with guys. But what if one of them, you know, like, wants to BE with me? I’ve only had one boyfriend since 1998, so you see why I’m nervous.

My bestfriend Tamara told me, “Tee, just be your old crazy, emotional, loving, giving self. It’s not even about finding somebody. Some of these guys may just be lifelong friends. You decide what you want the relationship to be. Hang out, get to know people and enjoy yourself.”

So yes, I confess, Ms. I WILL NEVER DATE, has turned the other way. Is it a lack of trust in my relationship with God? Is it loneliness? Or is it that I’m finally feeling on the inside the same way I look on the outside? Or maybe all these men are crazy.

Individual dating stories coming soon, for your reading entertainment.