He Loves Me
Why does God love me so much?
I just don’t get it, but I sure do appreciate it.
Man, I love my damn job!
I just got home from another grueling event at work. We were forced to watch the Marlins play the Phillies at Pro Player Stadium. What’s even worse is my department had the audacity to rent out the Legends Skybox so we had to sit up high in the sky in air conditioning, sipping on beer and wine and eating all kinds of good food. Man, isn’t life something?
(Pic taken from my camera phone)
HAHAHAHAHA!
I love my damn job!
So off I went to the stadium with my co-workers for our End of the Year wrap up party to thank all of our volunteers for beating our fundraising goal. We set out to raise $400,000 but we actually raised $413,000. We are so good at what we do!
This was an amazing experience for me for two reasons. 1) I don’t like sports and never thought I’d like baseball, but this was SO MUCH FUN! 2) This was my first time seeing an actual professional sports event live.
It was crazy sitting there on the edge of my seat through 9 innings as the Marlins and The Phillies went run for run. At the bottom of the 9th inning, the Marlins scored a run tieing with the Phillies which meant the game was going into overtime (or whatever you wanna call it).
I slirped the last of my wine and sat down, licking my lips in anticipation. I was overdressed for this event but oh well, it’s better to look too cute than not cute enough.
Someone whispered to me, “Whoever gets the next run wins the game.” My heart began to race. I watched as the Phillies went through 3 batters, none of them making it to homeplate. I screamed as our boys went up to bat.
Two batters later, it was crunch time. We had 2 on the bases and the batter had 2 strikes and if he struck out the Phillies would have another chance at bat.
One low pitch and the Marlins batter (whoever he was) popped it out into left field! The Phillies man in the field couldn’t get to it fast enough! The crowd is on its feet as the Marlins players RUN HOME!
WE WON! WE WON! WE WON!
Our skybox went crazy and there was pandemonium in the bleachers. I jumped and I screamed and I was so happy! Now, I can understand why people get excited watching sports. I never understood before. In the midst of my jumping up and down I felt a wetness and I looked down. Oh damn. I peed on myself. I knew I should have gone to the bathroom earlier.
Yuck.
Everyone is leaving and hugging and saying goodbye, I grab a poster and place it in front of my crotch, hoping the dark wet spot doesn’t show in the back of my thin capris.
I make it out without anyone saying anything to me about it. he he…
I am so happy. I can’t believe I took the risk of moving down here to Miami and it actually paid off. I am in a great position to learn at my job. I love the people I work with, they are so cool. I am actually getting PAID to do some really simple stuff. I am making it, in MIAMI, now that’s a feat. I am doing my thang thanks to God and a little perseverence.
I am so happy. I can’t believe my joy.
I don’t think things could get any better than this.
I’m It
While sitting and enjoying some of the blogs on my blogroll, I realized that I was tagged by Muffin from Dirty Thoughts.
10 (random) Things I Love.. hmmm
1. Lobster
2. My bed
3. A clean kitchen
4. Picking my sons up at the end of a school day
5. Getting drunk with my girlfriends
6. Good news
7. Raise in salary
8. Fresh pedicure with french polish
9. Weekend away from my sons
10. A good romantic comedy
Passin the torch along to Raycita, Killa Cal, and Lilaidi
Your turn, What are 10 Things you love?
Update on Lady Thickness
You will NOT believe it, my bestfriend Anna has actually updated her blog. I’m shook, Seriously. I threatened to take her off my blogroll unless she tightened up and she came back with a vengeance.
You guys HAVE to go listen to her latest audioblog. Now, you’ve all heard my voice and my style, now listen to the chick that knows me as well as I know myself. Realize how different we are but how much we are the same.
She came over here and was clowning about how I speak and how I act. She calls me lame. But I remind her that I grew up 5 blocks from her and even though I don’t live round there no mo’, I’m still FROM THE CITY! She just laughs and calls me a nerd.
I guess I am a bit nerdy, especially compared to HER, she acts like one of the boys on the block. Sometimes I feel like she’s my big brother. She takes care of me, whatever I need and nobody messes with me when I’m with her. I love my dawg! I really do. She’s cool as hell.
Erry last one of ya’ll would benefit from inviting her to your party. She gets LOOSE! Damn… I don’t know ANYONE who parties harder than she does when she gets a chance. She truly represents for all the plus size girls. She may not be skinny, but she gets more men than any size 6 chick I know. Even with me, I am absolutely no competition for her.
We made a bet to see who can entrap this particular dude first, and she had to give me a 4 day advantage because I have no game. LOL! And she gave me pointers on what to say when I see him. LMAO! I still don’t think I’ll win. ~shakes head~
She’s like WHOA! The ring tone I gave her on my phone is “Ay, Ya, ya ya ya” by the Ying Yang Twins. That song always makes me think of her!
I love my damn friend.
Yeah, she’s tight.
This Weekend Is gonna be Hot!
This weekend is going to be so crazy in Miami.
You comin right?
Man, that’s all anyone has been talking about for the past couple of months, Memorial Day Weekend in Miami. This is the place to be this weekend and if you haven’t experienced it, then you HAVE to come one year.
I wasn’t even trying to go out because these type of events are typically for tourists but after a wonderful, WONDERFUL evening last night, ~sigh~ I am so krunk! I can’t wait for my friends to get into town and my babysitter is all lined up for Saturday night.
I have the usual obstacles in my way, no money, no outfit but dammit I’m naturally cute so I’ll wear something I already have and be on my way.
On a delightful note I bought a bed! Oh my gosh, after sleeping on the couch and with my sons for a WHOLE YEAR, I really, REALLY appreciate my own bed. It is so soft and nice and I spent some bread on it because, why not? I mean, you have to sleep there everyday, so you should buy the best, right?
I pulled the covers back and slid in, when I leaned back into the mountain of pillows on my bed I felt like a wave of water was washing over me. I felt like I was floating in a cloud. I felt like I had died and gone to heaven.
Lying in that bed at that moment I cried and I praised God because I realized that I now have a real home of my own. I have a place to rest my head. And my place is not regular, its very nice and I am very proud of it and although it costs a lot to live there, it is worth every penny. I can’t believe that life is so good right now. I don’t know if I believe in karma, but if that is true, then I have a lot more good things coming my way because I know that I try my best to be a blessing to other people and to make them feel good about themselves.
God loves me so much. He loves me so much.
I am so happy. So, so happy.
My Baby can R-E-A-D!
I am so excited!
I’m in my car on my way home from picking my sons up from school when I hear sounds coming from the back seat. I raise my eyebrow and turn down the radio.
“G-g-Gus is a d-du-duck. G-g-Gus h-has a di- bi-bill.”
I freeze.
What is he doing?
I adjust the rearview mirror so that I can see him better. He has a little pamphlet in his hand. And he has it open and, hold up, my 4 year-old IS READING!!!!!
I slam on the breaks and scream!
He stops and looks up at me confused.
MY BABY IS READING! MY BABY IS READING! I sing to him.
He smiles and continues.
When we reach home I jump out of the car and sit in the backseat with him and his brother, and listen carefully as he pronounces each syllable which becomes words, which when said one after another, become SENTENCES.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!
I unbuckle the seat belt and pick him up and swing him around. He laughs and blushes as I kiss him all over his head and his face.
I am so PROUD…
The school is doing a great job because I tried to help him and I have ZERO patience whenit comes to teaching. I don’t see how teachers do it. I don’t see how parents can homeschool. That is definately not my gifting but those who can do it, GOD BLESS YOU!
He really loves to write. My baby will sit and copy the words on just about anything he can find. From junk mail to magazines to the back of the cereal box, he loves to write it ALL! He loves to color and is getting to be quite good at it.
Look
Wow. From such a tiny little thing to a big boy. He is growing so fast and he is so sweet. He always listens to his Mommy. He wants to please his Mommy. He takes great care of his brother though they wrestle a lot (What is up with that? I NEVER let him watch wrestling or aggressive TV but all he wants to do is play fight. Must be a guy thing)
He is so precious. He is all mine and I am so proud of my baby…
Who knows, he may want to be a writer when he grows up.
Yay!
Remembering Memorial Day
I knew that I was going to South Beach for Memorial Weekend but honestly, I wasn’t feeling it. I’m not into large crowds and I’m not the type of chick that HAS to be on every scene. I’m not into scouting for ballers, celebrities or sponsors and I don’t like to post up and talk about how people look. A fun evening for me is having a few of my girlfriends over and we drink until we can’t stop laughing. I’m definately a homebody.
But ofcourse my bestfriend Tamara was coming into town and she is the peer pressure queen. She will make you feel like you are ruining all of HER fun if you don’t go along with her plans and that SUCKS! LMAO! As much as I hate it, most times I give in. Ahh, the crazy things we do for love…
So this weekend I knew that my sorority sister Tonya would be coming down with Tamara. I’m kinda weird, I know, but I wasn’t really excited about seeing them. I mean, I mentioned before that I’m a low maintenance friend and I only need to hang out with you maybe once or twice a year and talk on the phone with you once a month. I’m not needy. I have too many friends for daily chit chat.
And I talk to Tonya and Tamara at least twice a week. I feel like I see them all the time! LOL! I am so mean! But ofcourse when Tamara called me to tell me to meet her at her house at 11pm I shrugged and hopped out of my bed.
Standing in front of my closet I felt a huge headache coming on. No new outfit, no money to go out and buy a new skirt or a new top to mix with an old piece so I had to be creative. My little sister Teenie watched as I threw piece after piece on my bed, trying to pull something together. I had already gotten a general consensus of what everyone would be wearing.
Tamara, who had been on South Beach all day and was STILL krunk about going back in the evening was adamant about getting into a club.
“We are going to get into SOMEWHERE tonight!” she announced confidently. “So dress to get into the club.”
Let’s look at the facts, ma’am.
Miami + Memorial Weekend + Thousands of Black people + celebrities = No chance in hell of getting into a club without paying an arm and a leg.
“Well Prince,” I quickly told her. “I have $5 to my name.”
“Oh, well I got you. We’ll drink at my house beforehand. Just get dressed.”
“What are you wearing? Are you gonna be dressy with a dress or cute with a skirt? Pants and halter top or casual cute?”
“Jeans and a cute top. Everyone is doing jeans and a cute top and you can borrow one of mine if you want to.”
“Girl, I can NOT wear your clothes.” Tamara is a size 4. Yeah right.
“Yes you can. If Paula can wear my tops then you can.”
“Yeah, thanks Prince, I can figure it out from here. Call me when you’re almost done getting dressed and I’ll be over there.”
Back to my closet. Back to my dilemma.
Now I haven’t shopped in MONTHS so I’m not really feeling anything that I am seeing. There is only ONE pair of jeans in my closet that make me look like I have some booty, and they are actually some really wide legged capri’s.
Bling! I would definately be wearing these tonight.
So now for a top. Let’s see, a good sized selection, but how do I want to hurt’em tonight.
Sparkly? Naw. Cleavage? Naw. I know! Off the shoulders and sheer. I have the perfect black top.
Hmm.. I think to myself as I look at my outfit lying across the bed. Sheer black top and wide legged jean capri’s. Pretty simple. Let’s liven it up.
I walk over to my accessory chest and sort through all my fake bling bling. I choose a belt that is made of circles with turquoise stones in each one of them. I find the shoes that match the belt and I find some simple circle hoop earrings.
Ok, good. I think this will work.
Shower, shave and lotion down. Paint the toe nails and let them dry while I iron my jeans. Underwear tonight? Um, no. I’ve gained a little weight and I don’t want the top of my thongs to show in case my shirt slips up.
Slip on the my top and my jeans and carefully hang my belt with the fringes on my right hip. I do a little shimmy to see them swing and I slip into my wedge heels.
Now for the REAL fun! MAKEUP!
I love wearing makeup. It makes me feel polished and all grown up. And it really makes me look a lot better.
Tonight I’m wearing just a silver shadow as my base color and sparkly powder blue as my eyelid color. I line my eyes with black liner. Very dramatically so that my eye color really pops and I line my lips with a dark berry liner and some dark berry lip gloss then I add a coat of wet shine lip gloss to make it sparkle.
Damn. I look goood!
A quick brush of powder to tone down the concealer that I have to wear because I have raccoon eyes and I’m posing in front of the mirror like a supermodel.
My phone rings and it’s Prince (Tamara). “Where are you girl?”
“I’m on my way chick.”
Spritz on the perfume. Yep, I’m STILL wearing the Opium until I can afford the perfume I really want. But it works nicely with my body’s natural fragrance.
Hmm. “Glasses or no glasses?” I ask my little sister.
I put them on and take them off for her.
“Glasses.” she says. “It adds a little something.”
“Man, that’s messed up witha girl looks better WITH her glasses than without em.” I laugh.
Hop into my ride and call my other bestfriend, Anna.
“I’m getting gas by your Mama’s house. I’ll be there in a few.”
Yay! I get to hang out with BOTH of my bestfriends in one night. Lucky me!
I reach Tamara’s house and all of the lights are out.
Hmmm? Is this some sort of surprise party for me? I look around for cars that I recognize.
Tamara answers the door and I peek in. Damn, just a bunch of chicks standing around a couple of bottles of liquor.
“We were waiting on you Tee, let’s go!” Tamara says and walks over to the make shift bar.
I hug my sorority sister and Toya, a cool chick I met in Tallahassee and I am introduced to Nay and Tamika. I can tell that everyone is checking my outfit out. I don’t care, I know I look good.
“Damn,” I remark. “Tamara, Tonya, Toya, Tamika and Tee. That’s a lot of T’s.”
“Dark or light?” Tamara asks and she points to the bottles on the counter.
“Light.”
She pours everyone a shot and we all smile and hit it.
Then we hit another.
Anna calls and says she has a headache and is waiting outside for us so in honor of my ailing friend, I take her shot.
We all walk out into the heat and I giggle when I see my dawg Anna. “I’m riding with Anna.” I announce.
We make our usual stop at the same gas station for chewing gum and black and milds. For some reason when my friends wanna be dangerous, they cop blacks and puff.
Then we’re OFF!
No more than 10 minutes into our ride we notice that traffic is horrible. The exit to South Beach is packed and we’re right in the middle of it all.
We finally make it down to South Beach but the cars are barely moving. At this point it’s 1 a.m. and we’ve been sitting in traffic for an HOUR. Traffic is going so slowly that I pull myself up and out the window and sit down in the windorframe and start waving to people. I hear cheering coming from Tamara’s truck and my sister Tonya’s head pokes up through the sunroof.
People are honking at us and waving and we’re blowing kisses at guys. We’re passing the bottle back and forth between cars because there is absolutely nothing else to do while we are stuck in traffic.
It’s a little after 2 a.m. and we finally find a parking spot.
We tighten up and get goin to find the parties.
Now it’s Memorial Day Weeking in Miami but ain’t nobody trying to remember the soldiers. Errybody trying to holla at errybody. The streets are crazy with Black people and Spanish people walking the strip with their video camera’s. Most of the people that we meet are from New York. New Yorkers love Miami for some reason. And in Miami we think New York is like another planet.
We can’t walk a few steps without hearing a comment about the way we look.
Overall the men were nice to me. I was called Unique, Beautiful and Sexy. Most of my compliments come because of my hair, believe it or not. Now this one was funny as hell, one guy said, “You look very intelligent tonight.” Now what the hell am I suppose to do with that? Does that mean you want me to do your book report or somethin?
But ofcourse the assholes were out in full affect. Why come a man resorts to insults if you don’t give him no play?
“Hey, wuzzup Red. You looking sexy tonight.” An asshole says to me as I’m walking the strip.
“Thanks.”
“It’s like that?”
Me looking at him confused. “Huh?”
“That’s okay with yo baldheaded ass! Yo fade tighter than mine!”
“It sure is, you need to hook up with my barber, he’ll do you right.”
I have finally decided that all men are just tall boys. ~rolling eyes~
I’m enjoying the night air and we have no real destination. The object of the night (in my mind) is to meet some cuties and flirt.
But I’m having no luck. No one is cute to me.
We all sit down outside of a juice bar and chat while the men attack. If you stand still for too long you’ll be sure to draw a crowd. Most of the girls are complaining that their feet hurt but i’m okay. I wore comfortable shoes; wedges. Wedges don’t make my feet hurt like stilettos. I can walk in them for a long time and still feel great. They are open toed so my toes aren’t squished and just very very comfortable.
I roll my eyes at the men walking by.
I lean over to Anna. “Girl, I’m upset. Nobody out here is my type.”
She looks and me with a smirk. “That’s because you think you’re too cute for everyone out here.”
I laugh. Maybe she’s right. While I’m giggling I glance behind us and notice that a man is sitting at our table smiling at me.
Bingo!
Hmm.. He looks like…
I nudge Anna and she looks at him too. He’s still smiling.
“Who does he look like Anna?”
“He looks like… um… He looks like Morris Chestnutt.”
Yeah, he sure does.
No, he’s not the REAL Morris Chestnutt, but he will certainly do.
“Well hello handsome.” I say and turn around.
“Hello to you too.” he says and leans forward.
Damn, he’s deep chocolate with a PERFECT smile.
We proceed to stare each other down while throwing out our best lines. I feel like it’s a “smooth talk” battle. And no one is losing. He’s matching me in wit, sexiness and boldness. I’m impressed. But damn, he’s a college student. ~sigh~ Came from Orlando. ~sigh~ And to make matters worse, he’s a Kappa. ~double sigh~ Never met a Kappa that was sincere.
We’re deep in flirt mode, daring each other to show more interest, feeding off of the deep mutual attraction and I’m biting my lip to keep from telling him that he’s coming home with me.
I feel a hand on my leg and hear a squeaky voice, “GIRL! YOU READY TO GO?!!” It’s one of the chicks on my group.
Hell naw! I think. But I figure now is a good time to get away from him, it’ll end our little game and see if he’s all talk and no action. Will he ask for the number?
I stand up and pull down my shirt. I put my purse under my arm and turn around to face him. He quickly hops from behind the table and is by my side.
If he comes any closer I will BITE HIM! Mmm,mmm.
“Hey, it was nice meeting you Philip.”
“Yes it was. I would love to keep in touch with you. Is it okay if I got your number?”
YESSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!
I whisper my number in his ear as he puts it into his phone. He gives me a hug and I am floating away… My girls give smile at me as I walk back to the group.
“Girl, he was cute!” They say.
“Hell yeah! What you expect?!” LOL!
The rest of the night is a blur. I’m trippin cuz Tamara has an attitude out of this world. And the wild thing about that is Tamara NEVER has an attitude. She is always so cool. But she says her feet were on fire and the men were annoying her and she felt like crying so she could NOT have a good time.
I met another cutie, Marcus and one who wasn’t that cute, I forget his name, but turns out he owns a Mortgage Broker Firm, or either he got fake business cards made up. So sorry, no ballers, no celebrities and no flashing lights. Just me and my girls enjoy the warm night air and feeling like stars as we walked the strip on South Beach. That was my Memorial Day experience. I don’t plan to go back again.
I finally climbed into bed a little after 6am and ofcourse my sons woke up at 7 am climbing all over me. I’m surprised they didn’t get orange juice in their cereal as tired as I was up in the kitchen trying to make some damn breakfast.
But I survived- just in time to go out again- this time on a date.
Details manana… I’m tired.
Honorable Mentions
When my phone rings I am just getting my boys out of the bath tub and into bed. I glance at my caller ID and I don’t recognize the number but I answer anyway.
“Hello.”
“Hi, is this Ms. Tee?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“This is Philip.” (The Morris Chestnutt look-alike I met on South Beach the night before)
“Ohh, HI!”
“You remember me?”
“Ofcourse I do. How could I forget?”
“Are you busy right now?”
“Yes I am, but you can call me back later.”
“I will. Save my number in your phone.”
“I will.”
I don’t.
I feel a vibration and I lift my head up and open one eye. It’s my cell phone. It’s under my pillow since I don’t have a night stand to sit it on yet. I look at my alarm clock which is perched vicariously atop a miniature suitcase which serves as my make shift nightstand. There’s only room for the alarm clock so I often sleep with my TV remotes under my pillow too.
The clock reads 10:16pm.
Damn, it’s early and I’m already asleep. I must be tired. I guess I’m not going out tonight.
I recognize the number this time, it’s Philip.
I answer sweetly.
“You sleeping?” he asks.
“Nope,” I lie. I’m curious to see what this brother is all about so I can make my mind up about him. Yeah, I admit when it comes to men I decide very quickly. If I even THINK that you are shady or lazy I cut it off, before I get too involved. Who says you can’t help who you fall in love with? Yes you can. You can’t fall in love if you don’t get losers a chance to begin with. I’ve learned my lesson.
“Can I ask you a couple of questions?” he asks. Mind you this is our first conversation since we met on South Beach.
“Sure,” I answer and smile. I’m used to being the one who asks the questions. This is kinda cool.
“What’s your last name?”
I pause. What a weird question. I tell him anyway.
“Are you mixed?” he asks me.
“Nope.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes I am sure. I get my green eyes from my Mama.”
“Oh, you just look like you’re mixed to me.”
“Well, I’m not.” ~rolling eyes~
Ohhh, I get it. He’s one of THOSE type of brothas. One of those dark skinned brothas who feels like he needs a mixed/lightskinned chick on his arm, probably to make light skinned babies. How sad. He was handsome too. I appreciate a man who appreciates my beauty, but I don’t want a man who is interested in me SOLELY because I can lighten up his offspring.
“Who do you live with?” he asks.
“I live with my two sons.”
“Ohh, you have kids! Why didn’t you tell me that?!”
“When was I supposed to? This is our first conversation.”
“I thought I asked you. I’m sure I did.”
“No you didn’t. I wouldnt lie about that.”
“So, two kids, huh?”
“Yeah. 4 and 2 years old. Great boys.”
“That’s nice.”
Awkward pause. So what you gonna do Buddy, sink or swim?
“Well, you tell me,” I ask him. “What’s YOUR last name?”
He stammers. “Uhhh, It’s just that I hate my last name.”
“Why would you hate your last name? Is it weird?”
“No, it’s Jean-Louis.”
“So you’re Haitian?”
“Yeah I am.”
“Does that mean you’re ashamed of being Haitian?”
“No, it’s not like that. I guess I had this issue since I was in middle school about being Haitian. It wasn’t the cool thing to be. I mean, I would deny it all day when people would ask me and girls didn’t like me when they found out. It wasn’t until highschool that I accepted that I was Haitian and stopped pretending. I think it was when the Fugees came out. Then it wasn’t so bad to be Haitian anymore.”
“I hear you, I remember those days. It’s crazy how the media portrays the Haitian culture. When I met a Haitian classmate for the first time, I was speechless because she didn’t look like those people I saw on TV. She looked a lot like me. Anyway, you make me feel like you are STILL afraid to admit you’re Haitian.”
“It’s not that. It’s just..my last name is sooo Haitian. And that bothers me. Everyone can tell automatically that I’m Haitian and I don’t really look like I’m Haitian.”
“Well, once I met this guy and I thought he was Haitian so I asked him if he was and he was shocked. He told me that no one can tell usually and that when someone says to him that he doesn’t ‘look’ like a Haitian, what they mean is that he doesn’t look ugly.”
“See!” he answers emphatically.
“See what?”
“That’s what I mean. I’m not ugly, but I am Haitian.”
“Congratulations.”
He laughs.
“My first love was Haitian,” I tell him. I tell this story often. “But he broke my heart.”
“That happens sometimes,” he says.
“It sure does.”
We chat a bit more. He asks me about life after college and how I found a job. I tell him my story and end up feeling like I’m giving a motivational speech, assuring him that if he is diligent he will find his place in the world.
We hang up after he promises to call me back soon.
I hope not, I’m done with him.
I lean back and think about my conversation with Philip, then my mind wanders to the dinner I had earlier with another new ‘friend’.
Dinner was great. A little french restaurant that I found a few weeks ago. The food was magnificent and the conversation was interesting. But I was feeling a very funny vibe from him. I think I have my guard up and I’m wary of a guy who shows interest. I mean, what are you hiding? What is your motive?
After I met him, during our first conversation I mentioned that I blogged. He didn’t even know what a blog was and I was practically jumping up and down in anticipation of teaching him all about it. He is a young professional, 28 years old, corporate job.
After I explained blogging to him, he asked to see mine. I hesitated. Hmm, do you give away all your secrets so soon after meeting someone? My blog is the avenue to my soul. You either take me or leave me after reading it.
I decided to go ahead and give it to him. If he even reads it, at least he’ll know where I come from and where I am in all areas, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I won’t have to explain much. We won’t have to play guessing games, if he’s mature he can like it or lump it.
The next day I get an IM from him. Like most men in technical fields, he’s into the internet and chatting too.
“It was amazing! He wrote me. I read the whole thing.”
Damn, he read the whole thing! He calls me on my cell to continue.
“It’s like a story. A story that doesn’t end. And it’s addictive.”
Now, I’m sure I heard that one somewhere before. Uh oh…
“I’m glad you like it.”
“Now tell me something. Am I going to end up as the subject of one of your stories?”
“Only if you make an impact on my life. Otherwise, no.”
“I don’t want to be in your story,” he says with a nervous laugh.
“I can’t promise that. It’s up to you to deal with me.”
“Man, I don’t want to be like that guy you wrote about who you had bad sex with.”
“Don’t forget about THE ATTORNEY.” I remind him.
“Yeah, damn. I don’t want my business out there like that.”
“Well, why are you so scared? Are you planning something bad? I only write according to what happens. You decide how your story will play out. But anyway, I don’t write about every man I meet on my blog, only those with an interesting story.”
Who knows, there may be no story to tell, you may never even get a mention. It’s all up to you.
Variety
Damn, after meeting all of these random men in this first half of the year I have to sit back and evaluate what kind of men I attract and why they are good (or bad) for me.
The Educated Brotha
Ain’t nothing turns me on more than an educated brotha. Introduce me to a man with multiple degrees and some letters after his name and I’m drooling. I expect him to have an extensive vocabulary and I start to tingle when he uses words I don’t know. I LOVE THAT SHIT! ~faints~
Pro: I learn a lot if he’s patient enough to explain to me what the hell he’s talking about.
Con: He knows that there are not many men out there doing their thing so he often walks around like he’s the first Black President.
The Arrogant Brotha
For some reason EVERY freakin man that I am attracted to will sit in my face and tell me that he is arrogant. Why do they tell me that? Is that supposed to impress me or is that a warning?
Pro: Arrogant men usually have something to be arrogant about.
Con: Arrogant men always think they are a step ahead of you and that you need to catch up with them.
The Young Brotha
Ooh Lawd, I may get into trouble for this one but the youngins LOVE Ms. Tee.
Pro: They are so eager to prove to you that they are grown. It’s cute.
Con: They ain’t ready…
The White Brotha
I think they think I’m exotic or something. One White Brotha told me, “Your skin is so beautiful, and when you sat next to me and I saw the contrast, oh, that was so nice. I think about that all the time.”
Pro: Nicer than most men I’ve met.
Con: I have this fear in the back of my mind that they can’t be serious about liking me.
The Old School Brotha
Ever since I’ve moved back to Miami, seriously, dudes have GOOGLED me (and used other crazy methods to find me so that they could tell me that they have loved me since MIDDLE SCHOOL! WTF?
Pro: It’s always nice to know someone thinks you’re great.
Con: They try too hard and I’m not interested. You couldn’t have me then, why would you think you could have me now?
The Passive Brotha
He’s the one with all the hints and no guts to go for the glory. Always saying things like, “Well, I sure don’t have anything to do this weekend.” But he never really asks me out. He just waits and hopes for me to give him the number, I do, finally, and he STILL doesn’t do anything, waiting for ME to make the next move.
Pro: Things will never go further than I want it to.
Con: Am I the MAN? Ugh… Men who want to be chased seem girly to me. And if it’s not about wanting to be chased then he’s lazy as hell and won’t be worth a damn in the bedroom.
The Internet Brotha *my fave*
He’s hundreds of miles away. But just one click away. I’ll never meet him, I’ll never have to deal with him. I can be as raw as I want WHEN I want. Communication is by MY choice. No wacko’s showing up at my crib unnanounced. No craziness. Just whatever I need, when I need it and that’s that. No strings.
Pro: I never have to wear make-up or find an outift.
Con: I look like the biggest loser with my overindulgent semi-fantasy online life.
I’m looking forward to meeting:
The Hispanic Brotha
The ‘I Can Hit It Right, (yeah) All Night (yeah)’ Brotha
The Fabulously Successful and Rich type Brotha
The Unique Brotha (who can handle a woman like me)
Stay Tuned
I’ve been praying a lot.
I’m trying to reconnect with God because I know that He never left me. I just feel like since I’ve been out of communication I lost the frequency and I need to find it again.
I have so much on my heart right now. I’m praying for direction. I need clarity on what I need to do first. I am very much a planning person and I wish life was one big TO DO list, cuz then it would make since to me.
There are some lofty career moves that I need to make and some really impressive opportunities presenting themselves to me, all the while I’m confronted with obstacles thrown my way by my baby daddy. It’s like he will not leave me be. He will not let me go on and do my thang without trying to bring unrest into my life.
It’s funny though, as much drama as he brings, somehow, I am still happy. I am still joyful. I still enjoy my children and look forward to much success. It’s as if my soul knows where I am headed and it is rejoicing in advance.
Sometimes it seems as though evil prevails. Sometimes it seems as though you can’t just can win by doing right. And then sometimes, the good guy gets his time in the spotlight and everyone else who is going through feels like they have the victory too.
You don’t have to pray for me. You don’t have to worry. All I ask is for your attention as God gets the glory in my life. Just watch how He handles all this mess and recognize His power and His love.
I trust Him.