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My job motivates me!

It motivates me to pull all the tricks out of my writing bag so that I can get the hell outta there!

GET OUT OF THE WORKFORCE!

LOL!

It’s not like I hate my job. I just don’t know how to operate in this type of environment. Ok, so I basically have nothing to do all day. This wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t have to log my hours. So I’m stuck in a hard place. How do I log doing absolutely nothing?

Please sir, may I have some more….assignments?

Not anymore! I’m not doing that anymore cuz when I do take initiative to suggest that I can help with this or plan that I get the cold shoulder, “I don’t need you spinning your wheels, Ms. Tee. I already did that project, I have a clear vision of what I want to have done.”

~shrugs~

Ok. I won’t be proactive. How about I just chill and wait for my next assignment?

“Ms. Tee, you’re sitting there logging accounts that bring in NO MONEY! Please log hours for accounts that are paid.”

How? If I don’t have work to do how am I gonna log hours for anything?

I guess I’m supposed to exaggerate my work load? Or maybe just outright lie? Am I supposed to stretch my two minute assignments in two hours just to keep the management happy?

Hmm?

Maybe that’s what I’ll do. I’ll do everything exxxttttrrrraaaaa sloowwww from now on.

Next time I’ll put a lil Shug Avery pee in his glass. See how he like that!

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Free Flowing

Sometimes I look at you and I think to myself, “Damn.”

I see you flowing so nicely in the breeze. I see you add dimension and excitement to women’s lives.

Many women buy you, but for those lucky enough to have you for free, well, they’re simply blessed.

I sometimes fantasize about feeling you brush against my shoulders. I daydream about wearing you like a crown on my head.

You could come in any color and I’d still appreciate your unique qualities.

I don’t think I’ll have you in my life anytime soon though. It’s not convenient or financially possible at this time.

But one day. One day I’ll be able to hire someone to take care of you. Then you’ll grow and flow and dance all by yourself to my rythym.

Here’s to you and me maybe growing together one day. And the vibrant life we’ll lead when I finally, leave the barber behind.

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Lightbulb Moment Needed

It seems like my prayers have turned into pleas.

I know God is probably like, “Be patient. I heard you the first time. I know where I’m taking you. Be faithful where you are.”

Dang. I guess I can understand how my 3 year old feels when he wants his way and I’m taking too long to accomodate him.

He does this little foot stomp routine that really annoys me. “Stop that tap dancing!” I tell him. “You’re not gonna get what you want from me by being all frustrated.”

Damn.

Point taken.

I have two stories up for publication this weekend in the Herald. One on Saturday and one on Sunday. The Sunday story will appear in the Home & Design section and I first heard back from an assistant editor who had questions about my piece.

She emailed me asking me to add details here and there. I was a little nervous, thinking that my story wasn’t good enough. Then a couple of days later she told me she wanted me to fully revise it and add more depth because it was selected as the LEAD FEATURE story in the section for the EASTER SUNDAY paper!!! YAY!!!

Today I heard back from my editor about my other story. She offered this advice, “In general, when you find yourself describing things with a lot of adjectives, you’re probably off-track (g). It’s always better when you can get the sources to tell the story rather than fill in yourself.”

Duly noted. I’ll be sure to carry that piece of advice with me like a lucky charm.

My story is all chopped up (edited) and in desperate need of a revival if I want it to make it to print this Saturday. But…I can’t do anything unless I get return phone calls from the sources. It’s due tomorrow at noon which means it’s really due tonight because I have to go to work tomorrow and I can’t work on my story at work.

That’s the tricky part about writing features. You can’t make things up. You can’t make up quotes. Somehow, someway, the source has to pull out an interesting anecdote and feed it to you.

And with this particular story (LOL!) my source has been kinda uncooperative. Lord! LOL! Something crazy happens during EACH story I write!

But that’s the challenge of bringing a story to life.

I welcome it.

I seek correction.

I hunger to be in a place where I can just be free to use my gift.

I feel like one of those temperamental artists who throws chairs over when they are disturbed during their creative process.

Today I was asked to write a piece for our company’s website. The piece had to be about health and it had to be done in 3 hours.

Health.

Hmmm…

Health…

Read a little.

Thought a little.

Hmmm…

I got it! It’s going to be an inside look at the attitudes of African Americans toward diet choices.

Wait. I can’t write this piece in an hour. It’ll take me a few days to research and gather data and THEN I’ll need time to construct everything and THEN I’ll massage and nurture my words until they are healthy and vibrant.

ONE HOUR LEFT!

Man, I can’t rush my genius.

This story will enlighten, educate and inspire. But that’s not what they want. They want me to throw something together to fill space on the website.

Throw something together?

Me?

I feel insulted.

Don’t I have more of a mind than that? Aren’t I capable of so much more?

~weeping~ I don’t think I can just throw something together…

It’s not in me to write such simple stories….

I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. I’ve been hired to do a job that requires very simple stories and announcements/press releases and it boggles my mind to do them.

I can craft an award winning sonnet, a haiku or even a song. My poetry shakes the heart and wets the soul yet I can not even THINK when I am sitting in front of my computer charged with an assignment like a press release.

Sometimes I feel like such a failure. And it’s not like anyone at my job offers training. They just give you the assignment and tell you to go do it. You can ask questions as you go along but if you don’t get it, they just take the assignment and give it to someone else as if you just weren’t good enough.

But I know I’m a fantastic writer. I know I have my weaknesses but overall I was born to write and explore the attitudes and habits of human nature.

But this job… This job has me feeling like I can’t cut it as a writer. Or maybe I just don’t belong in Public Relations.

Whatever it is, something needs to happen soon. Either I get a lightbulb moment about this type of writing or I move on.

I’m starting to feel that dread. That awful dread that you feel when you know it’s time to move on and you have no idea where to go.

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Aha!

Today I had my lightbulb moment.

I’m still stunned at this heartbreaking revelation.

I requested a meeting with my company’s President and the Sales & Advertising manager to get a grip on what was expected of my role in the development of our website.

As they explained the purpose of our firm and how we operate I felt my skin begin to tingle.

I saw the light.

I now understand what kind of business I am a part of and why I am lacking in understanding this writing style.

Public Relations is the OPPOSITE of Journalism.

Clients PAY us to write positive stories about their business or service. They PAY us. Now anyone who has come from an accredited School of Journalism knows for a fact that the rule of thumb in journalism is ACCEPT NO MONEY for a story unless it’s your salary. Be as objective as you can. Tell the whole story.

After our meeting my head kept spinning as the words pounded louder and louder. “Public Relations is NOT Journalism” “Public Relations is NOT Journalism”

We may use the same venues to display our work but as a writer when I tell a story I’m trying to be unbiased. I keep thinking back to Dr. Rosenraad’s Ethics class and how he made sure we knew what was right and wrong and I know for a fact that involving advertising sales with editorial is WRONG.

But it’s only wrong if you’re a journalist.

In PR, sales and editorial go hand in hand. The client pays us to write feature stories and press releases about their event. We promote them as best as we can through the different mediums. After our efforts are exhausted we wait to see if anyone publishes our stories or mentions the client in any news medium. If they do, we get a copy and send it to the client to prove that we are doing our job.

The company I work for has an EXCELLENT track record for accomplishing this.

It’s just…I’ll have to shift my moral standards to make this money. I mean, I guess I could do it, but will I be able to function everyday writing happy go lucky promotion pieces about companies and products even if I don’t agree with them?

That’s why I stopped doing artist bios. It was so difficult for me to say all these great things about these artists when I would NEVER listen to their music if someone wasn’t paying me.

Wow. The truth is…

I don’t think I’m a public relations professional.

I know I’m a journalist.

Oh Lord… What do I do?

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Whatever

I guess this Easter Sunday has me reflecting a bit which I always do but ~sigh~ Oh well.

My boys just got home from a long weekend with their daddy and as usualy they are full of smiles and fun stories of what they did and who they saw. They always have exciting stories to tell. Their daddy takes them on trips and to all the fun kiddie restaurants and exposes them to cool stuff that I don’t get a chance to.

They told me that he took them out to feed the homeless and they went to see the Harlem Globetrotters one night at the Miami Arena. They went to the drive-in movie and to countless picnics and weddings and theme parks and stuff.

Everytime they come back telling their stories, I feel a little bit of envy. Mainly because I want to go too! But partly because I guess I wish I had a daddy that I could love as much as they love theirs. He’s good to them, really good and if you don’t count the fact that he doesn’t pay child support, I’d say he was a great daddy. I’ve learned to lower my expectations of him and just accept him as he is. I can’t make him be anyone but who he is. All of his friends are professional, good hearted people who I know will be good influences on my boys.

Wow. This weekend I realized that I haven’t spoken to my Baby Daddy since we went to court for the injunction. Our kids are exchanged solely through his mother so there’s no reason for us to interact at all. You know what? I don’t miss him being mean to me but I do recall the era, long long ago when we were friends. Real friends. We used to do everything together. Seems like that life was so long ago but I’m reminded of it everytime my boys come back with stories of how he took them to visit our college friends. I know all of the people he is still in contact with. I don’t speak to them that often though. Most of them are still cool with me so it’s cool.

I guess…I guess what I’d really like right now is a cool ass guy friend. Not like Reggie who works 7 days a week and just bought his house so I see him like twice a year. And not like Joe who I never see because he doesn’t want his girl to get mad. And definately not like Lem who I see occasionally but I feel horrible afterwards because I know he’s hiding the fact that he’s hanging out with me from his girlfriend.

I guess I’d like someone who would make seeing me a priority in their life. I’d like to feel like someone values our time spent together. I’d like to feel some love instead of lust. I promise that if a man would be nice to me I’d be very nice to him back. I stopped being nice to men after my fling with THE ATTORNEY last March but I’m done being mean. I’m ready to be sweet and take a risk at being my thoughtful, sexy self for some lucky gentleman.

But child please. ~rolls eyes~

Guess what happened this weekend?

I’m doing what some lonely single women do on a Saturday night- talking on the phone with my girl Tonya while we watch TV together to bridge the many miles between us. My phone alerts me that I have a text message.

With one eyebrow raised I take a look and squeal into the phone, “TONYA! Guess who just texted me?!! “B”! He is thinking about me on a Saturday night!” I coo.

“What did he say?”

“Oh.. He just said, ‘Wuz up?'”

She laughs. “Write him back.”

“Ok, I’m gonna say…’Nothin..What’s up with u?”

I text him and a few seconds later I hear the text alert and I almost drop the phone.

“He wrote me back girl! He said, ‘Watching Lord of the Rings. How is everything?'”

Great. I’m just relaxing alone for the night. R u going out?

Nah. Not sure. Might chill.

Me too. Watching BET.

I see, Spring Bling has been on all day.

That’s right. Born and raised in the county of Dade.

LOL- What you doing tomorrow?

Nothing and u?

Church then cook some gumbo.

As we’re going back and forth I’m still on the phone with Tonya reading everything to her and she breaks in and asks, “Tee, why are ya’ll texting for so long and he has your number?”

I pause.

Hmm.. I was just so excited that his wonderful self actually thought of me that I didn’t care! But she had a valid point. So I asked him.

Um, why are we still texting? I’m sure you have my phone number?

He took a minute to reply. This is how I communicate, lol! Not a phone guy plus I’m watching a movie.

Ok.

That was the end of our love affair for the evening.

~shrugs~

At least Kanye can go to sleep tonight knowing that my heart has not been given to another man.

Whatever…

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Early Day Off

I left work early today.

I was light headed, nauseas and going through some type of anxiety attack, I guess. I almost started crying right then and there but I managed to choke it back until I pulled into traffic. I know I must have looked like an ugly monkey sitting up there huffing and puffing in my car, crying like I just got a spanking.

I needed that cry.

I’m such a whiny baby.

Geesh! Sometimes I can’t stand myself.

I won’t reveal the #1 reason why I was crying but the #2 reason was MONEY and the #3 reason was WORK.

Then as I drove home crying into my cell phone as Kim listened, she called me out and I nearly had to pull over when she pointed out that I’m probably a little jealous.

FREAK! I HATE when this happens. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I have been jealous of someone so when it hits it hits HARDCORE.

Yesterday I was reading Fran’s blog and I took a look at her blog roll. Directly above my name was the name of a chick that I know from college. You may remember her. I describe her as “the white me” “the chick I can’t stand but can’t stop loving” and “that crazy ass white girl”.

Every once I in a while I hop over to her spot and check up on her but yesterday what I read caused so much pain in my heart.

Yeah, she’s fine. She’s doing VERY well. She is pregnant with her third child, just moved up to one of the Carolina’s, doesn’t WORK and is enjoying a career as a freelance writer with her own column in the newspaper and a cushy stable gig with a well known Christian magazine.

~smile~

Can I push that bitch down?

~rolls eyes~

Naw, she’s not a bitch, I’m just salty as hell. And man, I’m tired of the hustle. Imagine me, laid up in the house writing while my kids go to school. All I have to do is clean up and cook dinner. Hell, I do that already. If I had the luxury of being supported financially like she is, man, I’d have written a thousand books already. ~sigh~

Hey, let me have my moment of petty jealousy.

In the end I know I’m Ms. Tee, I can not lose. I can not dim the bright light within me if I tried. I am unique in a way that makes others laugh. I’m me. Sometimes a jealous chick, but mostly eager to get my own thang going. I wish that chick the best. After a life like hers, she deserves all of the goodness that God can pour out. Her testimony is a perfect example of how good God is.

Yes, He definitely answers prayers. Once upon a time I prayed, “Lord, PUHLEEASE give me a job where I can write!”

Tonight I just realized that I write ALL DAY.

As soon as I wake up in the morning I write my daily inspirational word. Then I go to work and I WRITE ALL DAY, then I come home and write on my blog and THEN I work on whatever writing project that is on the table.

I think I’m all drained out. I sat at work today for hours with this block. I didn’t know what to say. Last week I turned in another press release and to my surprise it was actually approved! I was hoping for some direction and honestly I thought it was crap and I would never allow my name to be attached to crap like that but if they like it, what can I do?

Ah well… remember a guy I mentioned and called him Dude? Back when I first introduced ‘B’ the most wonderful man I’ve ever e-mailed. LOL! ~shakes head~ I still can’t believe ‘B’ has not called me YET. It’s become quite funny that we email all day and text message sometimes at night but I don’t quite remember what he looks like and I don’t know the sound of his voice.

We may as well have met online!

Anyway, Dude was the sidebar in that story. I admitted that yes I liked him but he reminded me so much of my children’s father and it was causing me some heart ache.

Man, I can’t help it, I just like cool ass dudes. Dudes that smoke and drink a lil. Dudes that love Hip Hop like they would die without it. Dudes that ain’t really all that “cute” but are more handsome because they have manly features instead of girly ones. Dudes that don’t take No for an answer. Dudes with a little beer belly covered up by a white tee. Arrogant dudes that think they are the center of the world. Dudes that are sooo black that we look like we got jungle fever. Dudes that expect nothing less than millionaire status and aren’t afraid to go GET IT!

~sigh~ This dude is sooo my type! So much my type that I knew from the beginning it wasn’t going to work because the guys who are “my type” are insensitive assholes who just want a warm hole to crawl into when they aren’t busy hanging with their friends.

I honestly think Dude looks at me in the same way and he has already said something hurtful to me. Up until he said that I really liked him. I imagined us chilling for years and eventually just being together because we were comfortable with each other. Yes, there was lots of chemistry but I’ve been told I move too fast and I don’t play enough games with men.

I try to play games but that feels so dishonest. I hate it. Why do I have to pretend I don’t like you to keep you interested in me?

Anyway, if the game must be played it won’t be played by me. I’m not stranger to being alone. It’s normal to me. Dude could be good for right now but that’s not what I’m looking for. I think we could have had more but…being a rational woman who LEARNS from her mistakes. It’ll be a BIG mistake to continue to play around with him eventually getting all emotional over a man who doesn’t see my value.

See!

That’s why Kanye is my man. He never leaves me. He is always there when I close my eyes. He even tells me, “You’re gonna touch the SKY BABYGIRL!” A very encouraging friend.

Just what I need until I bump into Mr. Right.

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What Dreams May Come

I called my girl Kim to check up on her this weekend.

“What’s up girl?” I asked.

“Girl, I’m about to do something that I can’t tell you about for another hour.”

“Tell me now.”

“No, because I know you will try to talk me out of it.”

“Well, then that must mean it’s wrong. I only talk you out of doing things that are immoral and hurtful to others. If you KNOW it’s wrong then don’t do it!”

“Naw, it’s not like that. It’s just, you’re gonna say it’s not time.”

“Aiight, call me later then.”

A few hours later my phone rings.

“What’s up chick?” I answer.

“Girl! You will not believe what I just did. I just drove off the lot in my brand new 2006 BMW!”

I sit up straight. “Huh?” My heart flutters a bit.

“That’s right girl, I got it! My dream car. I’m driving it home right now!”

“Stop playin!”

“I’m not playin Tee. It’s so surreal. I don’t believe it.”

“Stop playin…”

“I’m serious girl.”

“Damn, my car broke down yesterday. My sister and her boyfriend are taking it to get checked out and you are now driving a BRAND NEW BEEMER! DAMN!!!””

She laughs, “Aww Tee! I can’t believe it! People are staring me down. It feels so weird.”

“Dammmnnn!” I squeak out, imaging my friend in her new car , all leathered out. “Ok, now you have to get two really nice pairs of shades. Keep one in your car and the other in your bag. At no point do you walk outside without your shades from now on. And at no point can you drive your car without wearing them.”

She laughs. “You’re right dawg. I’ll handle that.”

Wow. Kim has been talking about getting this car FOREVER. Less than two years ago she bought a brand new Mazda but even as she drove it off the lot and called me to share the good news she said, “Next car I get will be my new Beemer baby!”

~exhale~

A dream realized.

It feels so nice.

See, both Kim and I have these fantasies of living lavish and fabulous. But on the real, the heart of my desire to live lovely is not materialism or wanting people to envy me.

I’m not a chick that wears designer clothes or expensive jewelry. I shop at Target a lot. I like Forever 21. I like JCPenney. As long as it flatters my body type and it’s not too revealing I’ll get it. I don’t even have a dream car. I just know I want a driver cuz I’m lazy. I don’t need diamonds and all that jazz but the one thing I will go ape crazy spending money on is my home.

I spend a lot of time at home. I’m a homebody. A perfect evening to me is a drink, some nice company and my couch. I hope to be able to make my house as comfortable as possible with my personal favorite, a big screen monitor for my computer. ~drooling~ I’d like to get a plasma TV and hook it up to my PC so I can dive into the internet like I’ve always wanted to.

I love coming home everyday and I always want to feel like that. Besides the desire to make my home comfy and unique I really have all these dreams of lavish living because I just want to see if I can do it.

It’s like a challenge for me.

There are plenty of people in this world with nice homes and money to pass on to their children. I want to be one of them. I am going to be a philanthropist and offer several deserving young people the opportunity to be personally mentored by me from middle school and beyond.

If others can do it, why can’t I?

I just want to see if a small time chick from Liberty City could exceed all expectations and make it happen.

You know, despite the recent setbacks and disappointments, I know it’s all a set up for success. And even though I cry and get frustrated, I know I’m being purged and strengthened for my journey.