Author: TPatterson

Breaking Out of My Shell

He hasn’t called me back.

LOL!

Well ofcourse I didn’t expect him to but I promise with the next man I meet I won’t be so harsh. ~smile~

Last night I went to Tamara’s house to kick it with her fiance and his family and finally learn how to play spades. Since everyone seems to play why not join, it’s can’t hurt me. ~shrugs~

Tamara took her time teaching me the rules and what to look for and then she made the mistake of inviting the tenderoni Byron and her fiance AJ to play with us.

Why did these fools commence to acting like pure idiots throughout the game?!! LOL! They were shit talking and even BARKING at me throughout the whole game. They scared the hell out of me! LOL!

I’m not a shit talker. I don’t know how to make fun of people (unless we’re really close) and I was actually very intimidated by the situation. I’m beginning to recognize to what depths my social skills have plummeted.

I’m a homegirl by nature. Even when I was a little girl, I never went outside. I never got to know any of the drug dealers on my block or hung out with any of the chicks from round the way. I became a lot more social when I went away to college and it took little to no effort because I always involved myself in activities that I was passionate about. When you seek out these activities you’ll automatically meet people who are passionate about the same things and you won’t have to search for a common ground. Or you can just start smoking weed and you’ll always have friends no matter where you go.

But then I got a boyfriend and I allowed his perception of me to become more important than my perception of myself and I shrank into this pitiful mess of a woman who didn’t even want to go out anymore. Having my children early didn’t help either. My warped mind told me that I had to be devoted to them and my fun time was over.

Then I discovered the internet and that became my social outlet. I must admit it’s been years and years of fun times, lots of internet boyfriends and plenty of online drama. But anyone with any sense knows that the internet world is not real. Your whole social life can’t revolve around a computer. These people you meet are creating images for themselves online. They are creating personalities that they WISH they had in person.

Yeah, it’s fun but…you have to log off sometime. You are going to have to interact with people face to face sometime. And I’m just becoming more aware of that. So I’m challenging myself to participate in more social activities. I’m REALLY challenging myself to be around men and not expect them to try to hurt me.

I’m workin on it.

I am.

And the cool thing is, through Tamara’s fiance AJ, I’m learning that there are men out there who can love a woman and be affectionate and try to give you the world.

AJ said to me one night when we were both out on his patio relaxing, “Being with Tam is like having everything going great in your life and then you look down and find a $100 bill on the ground. You feel so damn lucky! I feel like that everyday I wake up next to her. There ain’t too many men who will find a woman like her and I know that so I had to lock her down.”

I was like, “Is he serious?”

I’ll admit I was a bit taken back by that statement. But each time I’m around them I can see that he’s genuine. I can see that he goes above and beyond to make sure that she is taken care of and he really does love her. He’s a man and he’s not abusing her or using her. Who would have thunk it?

Damn…being here has exposed me to so many great people. I can’t wait to see what happens next.

Damn…I’m hungry

I need to make me something to eat.

But on the real…Each weekend is more fun than the previous. I sit and ask myself, “Is this my life for real?” It seems like someone else’s life to me.

How did I end up here having way too much fun working in my actual desired career, living it up socializing with amazing people and looking damn good in the meantime?

The power of God.

Last Friday I was so nervous because I set up a 2nd (phone) interview with Young Buck because my first one wasn’t good enough. During the first interview I was so scared that I would seem foolish that I asked some very elementary questions and none of them connected so it turned out that out of all the info I had, none of it would make a good story.

But this time I prepared. I sat down with one of the other writers on my team. He’s a Cancer like me and his writing is extremely engaging. The thing I respect the most about him is his ability to engage an interview subject. When we interview a popular subject, our purpose is to pull information from them that hasn’t been written before or hasn’t been exposed. While I had prepared random elementary questions for my first celebrity interview, my co-worker gave me a suggestion.

“When you interview someone you have to walk in there with your story already written in your mind. That way, you ask specific questions and you get specific answers by guiding them to say what you need them to say,” he told me. “What do you want him to say? What story hasn’t been told yet? It’s a good idea to try to get psychological when you’re talking to the subject. Get into their mind and get them to show us who they really are.”

As I prepared for my 2nd interview I considered his advice. In my first interview he mentioned that when he met the chicks on Flava of Love he thought they were too wild for his taste and he wouldn’t choose any of them. So I thought about that and I remembered that song he did, Shorty Wanna Ride Wit’ Me. I decided to delve into what he wants in his woman and if he believes that artists glorify a certain type of playa lifestyle when in reality they want something completely different.

I also wanted to touch on the topic of fatherhood and what it means to him since he grew up with a drug addicted father.

~sigh~

The interview went so well! We really connected during my 15 minute set and he even complimented me saying, “I’m feeling this whole conversation! I can’t wait to read what you write.” ~cheese~

He is not what I expected but I guess I should learn not to place my expectations on people based on their careers. He proudly told me that he takes care of his daughter and her mother completely even though the mother is with someone else. He says it doesn’t matter to him that the woman is not his anymore, what matters is the fact that when his daughter lays her head down at night she has a very nice place to rest that he provides- he says that helps him to sleep at night.

He also mentioned that his faith in Jesus is very important to him and that young men shouldn’t grow up neglecting that area or waiting until something bad happens to turn to the Lord.

Yeah….I was a little surprised too. Seems like someone has his head on straight.

And…he fine as hell…

He said he likes thick women ya’ll. Thick women who don’t wear weave or fake eyes or makeup or anything. He says he wants to recognize the woman he wakes up in the morning with.

Anyway…I’m so excited. I did a great job and got a compliment. Those are always nice. ~smile~

As for the rest of my job, man…it’s great to wake up everyday and go do something you love. The crux of what I do at the magazine is manage the other writers, encouraging them to fulfill their writing requirement. I give out assignments and fill the editorial calendar which means, every week I have to look at all of the stories the writers are turning in and choose the ones that will run in the magazine. Our magazine is 100% original content produced which means we only use original photos and original content. No AP stories or getty image pics. If the writers aren’t writing then we have no content.

It’s kinda interesting being the manager. I want to remain firm with the writers when I need something from them, but I don’t want to be a bitch. I’ve been told that I talk to them like they are 3. LOL! My publisher told me that because I have a way of explaining things to people that I must admit is kinda..uh….simple. That comes from dealing with my kids so much. I have to step it up.

Everyone is super helpful and I am learning so much from the other journalists, we call ourselves Scribes. There is only one woman on the team besides myself because the journalism field is dominated by men although you’d think things would be different since having a love for writing is sometimes seen as girly.

My publisher is amazing. I was in his office the other day and I noticed a few paintings leaning against his wall. They were vivid and full of bright colors much like the pieces Romero Britto produces. My mouth dropped open when I saw the signature.

“Um…Why is your name on these pictures?” I asked him.

He looked at me.

“Cuz I painted them.”

Not only did he build a publishing dream for the Black community, he is also an accomplished artist and he’s delving into television too. A week before I arrived he began building his team for his television show.

Very impressive.

And everyone is always making fun of him because he’s a bit eccentric, but they all give him much respect. The women who work for him WANT to work for him and there’s no craziness going on behind the scenes. He’s a giver, extremely generous and he is a Cancer too.

I’m learning a lot from him but I am sure to keep my distance because I don’t want it to turn into the same thing that developed between me and my former Pastor. I don’t want any man to recognize my potential and try to exploit it for their personal gain. I’m so eager to learn and to grow and show what I can do that it would be easy for a man to take notice of the fire inside me and want to be a part of that. But you can’t join yourself to everyone that blows your way.

I’m learning to be selective. Call me weird but I feel like the men I take seriously should be on another level. Sometimes It’s cool when my co workers flirt with me. It lets me know I still got it. But there’s something in my mind that won’t allow me to take them seriously. It puzzled me for a minute but then I realized what happened. I have raised my standards quite a bit.

Having a man with a stable income is a beautiful thing. But instead of going goo goo over the man who RECEIVES a steady check, I’d actually prefer the man who WRITES the checks.

Am I loony because I don’t feel like I don’t want to date anymore EMPLOYEES? If you don’t have CEO, COO or Owner/Founder behind your name I don’t get excited anymore.

I think it’s because I spend a lot of time interviewing these business owners. ~shrugs~

I don’t know ya’ll. I haven’t been on ONE date since I’ve been here and already I’m canceling men out. And by the way, the barbeque guy, whose name is Ty, called me back as soon as I finished writing the last post.

~shrugs~

I’m very much attracted to him but..something is missing. He’s a nice guy though and he lives 5 minutes away from me. I’m sure we’ll hook up again just to kick it.

~stretching~

I’m off to lay around and watch TV until Flavor of Love comes on. Those chicks are crazy and I hope Delishis gets kicked off because she’s one hatin ass chick! They are ALL hating on Krazy because they all see her as a threat. Krazy is the closest thing to white on that show so I can already see her winning. ~smirk~

Alicia Keyes and India Arie. Who wins? Hoopz and New York. Who wins? Anybody notice a pattern?

I was very happy to see Terrance Howard play the villain in Idlewild. For once a light skinned Black man played the bad guy. Do you ever notice that in Black movies it’s always the dark skinned brother who is devilish? Think about all of Tyler Perry’s movies.

For once I’d like to see darkness overcome light.

So as strange as it may seem, I’m rooting for New York.

Later!

Game Over

Ty tried to hunch me tonight.

~sigh~

That is such a turn off.

Why are men like that? It pisses me off.

Sure, I wanted to hunch him too, just not tonight. It’s better when I am the aggressor. I feel more in control and I was feeling him a lot…just…not yet dude. I met him a week ago. What does he think I am?

I could tell he was gonna be good too. Tight black body. Beautiful lips. Strong hands. I bet he had a nice grip with those strong black hands.

~rolls eyes~

We were at his house chillin watching Flavor of Love, then we watched the Tupac Resurrection special. We talked a little bit and I told him that I wasn’t interested in having a friends with benefits.

He said, “I’m glad that you know what you want.” Then after a minute or two shit got crazy…I’m like…ahh…yeah…I like that. But in my head I’m thinking…what’s happening here? So I had to stop it. I jumped up and put on my shoes and waved goodbye as I rushed down the stairs to my car. I didn’t even look back.

~sigh~

He makes me sick. Too eager. Shoot..I’m not losing my Georgia virginity to him. ~fold arms~

I thought I wanted my booty rubbed, but when the opportunity presented itself…I flaked. I can’t believe it. All these nights alone feigning for someone to touch me and here it is..a nice chocolate brother..and…I don’t want to.

I didn’t want to…I want…I want more than that.

So fuck it…I’ll be alone dammit.

Stupid men. All they wanna do is hunch. And if you don’t wanna hunch then they automatically try to say you are gay. Idiots.

I’M SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT DAMMIT!

The Scribe Life

~stretching~

I just woke up. I didn’t mean to fall asleep but…hey, it just happened. My phone woke me up and it was a co worker telling me that he lost his assignment and didn’t have any information about the event he was supposed to cover in the morning.

“Assignment dismissed,” I told him. “Now go get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Last night I hung out with another one of my co workers. He’s my age and his dream is to become a screen writer. He shared with me about his troubled past where he had so many BS jobs and how grateful he is to be working toward his dream.

“Winter 2003,” he told me as we huddled around a dimly lit candle and allowed the mellow sounds of Stevie Wonder to relax us after a very long day. “That winter was the worst ever. My car broke down and I had no money to get another one. The love of my life called me and told me she was getting married. I got fired from my job, evicted from my apartment and I lived in a hotel for a while trying to make ends meet.”

I shook my head in amazement.

“But look at my life now,” he continued. “Last week I was staying in a hotel on Park Avenue in New York interviewing Jet Li. I saw Leo Dicaprio in my hotel, man. I was sitting there amazed at how much my life has turned around. And I’m making it by using my talent. Shit…that’s amazing to me.”

We’re both grateful and the feeling is widespread around our office. I’ve been told many times that the people who write for our magazine move on to bigger magz like Essence and BET.com, Vibe and Black Voices. All the same mags I tried to freelance for but rejected me.

“Don’t worry,” my editor told me one day as we flipped through magazines and I showed her the ones who had rejected me. “You’re a much better writer than most of those magazines have. With your style, you’ll probably end up at Essence sooner or later. Those other mags just weren’t a part of your destiny.”

Although I’ve been at the magazine for over a month, it just hit me..I feel like I’ve found home.

Although people are people everywhere and ofcourse their will be little squabbles every now and then, for the most part we have a good team and we all have to depend on each other to do our jobs.

If the writers don’t write their stories, I can’t fill the editorial calendar. If I can’t fill the editorial calendar, the copy editors can’t edit them and forward them on to the graphics team for layout. The graphics team can’t work with me to make sure all of the photos are correct and that the important stories are run in a timely manner if the process doesn’t start correctly.

We have a little more than a handful of writers who work tirelessly day and night to produce. The single men have it the hardest because they can be called at any time day or night to hop on a plane and fly all over the country on assignment and this can happen once or twice a week. This seems glamorous at first thought but the reality is they are staying in great hotels and meeting celebrities and top business people across the country but they also have to come back from each trip with at least 10 stories for each day they were out of town. There’s no room for being star struck or lazy.

So that means instead of enjoying the comraderie of women’s business leadership conference, we have to bombard the business leaders to get interviews and photos. Instead of enjoying the exciting atmosphere of NFL games we have to be fierce in interviewing as many players, officials and fans as we can in order to meet our requirements.

“I’m getting a tatto on my stomache that says ‘Scribe Life’ one of my male co workers announced yesterday.”

We all laughed.

They are always having some wild conversation like, ‘Which movies or shows with Black characters were originally intended to be played by whites?’ after a discussion about how the 9/11 movie’s lead hero was played by a white man when the real hero was Black.

“Martin!” My fellow Cancer scribe shouted out. “That was originally a white show but we persevered.”

“Amistad!” Another co worker announced. “That was supposed to be a story about white slaves but they changed it to hold the Black man down.”

They LOVE to place bets on album debuts and their record sales. When Outkast dropped their new album their was an $85 pot for the person who guessed the closest number to their opening week recorded sales.

We clown a lot and they tease each other just to start an office wide debate.

“Dark skinned Black women can’t succeed in America!”

“Everybody knows that God is a white man.”

“You’ve only seen the Color Purple ONCE?! You ain’t Black!”

One of our scribes had a phone interview with Jaleel White (Urkel) today. When he got off of the phone he said, “That man is PISSED that everybody thinks he’s dead.”

When breakthrough artists stop by the office to be interviewed and have their pictures taken, one of our scribes loves to make them stop by the editorial office and sing a song for us. LOL!

Wow.

Remember when this year started I was feeling like this would be my year? Remember when I got the restraining order against my children’s father because I couldn’t take his abuse anymore? Remember when I got my first feature story published in the Miami Herald? Remember when I finished my first bio for Trick Daddy’s new group, The Dunk Ryders? Remember when I left the security of my cushy job at the private school to chase my dreams and ended up losing my job after only two months?

Man…

Life got hectic. I was in the hospital on my birthday. I prayed everyday for a breakthrough but my kids never went hungry.

I came up here hoping for an administrative job but happened to find a magazine that I thought was cool and they offered me a job on the spot.

I really didn’t know how I could ever be in a position to go after my dreams because I felt like I had to give up on them in order to be a good mother to my kids.

I didn’t.

I didn’t.

God has rewarded my obedience to Him by giving me the desires of my heart even though I messed up time and time again.

I may be flaky but I know the SOURCE of my success and happiness.

I know who truly loves me and guides me when I can’t find my way.

I’m grateful God and you know my heart. You have led me to a well of opportunity and young journalists who are hungry like me and respect me enough to receive correction from me. I learn so much from them. Their vibrancy is contagious and I can’t wait to see the day when each of us joins the panels of professionals we admire instead of writing about them.

It’s gonna happen.

We are all well on our way

God bless our publisher for giving us all our first chance and God bless us for daring to dream and take action.

Until Then…

Ahhhhhhhhh…

This is relaxing. I have finally successfully plied myself from the couch and drudged upstairs to my room to share my thoughts.

Life is kinda nice right now. I seem to be a good fit for my position at work. I am allowed to use my creativity to the fullest to motivate my team and I’m loving every minute of it.

I push myself to the limit at my job, rarely taking a break because I know that I am intelligent. I know that I can help create a more smooth working atmosphere where the writers are constantly sharpening their craft.

Writing is not just a hobby to me. It’s a lifestyle. It’s a heartbeat. Words to me mean just as much as that CD collection you hold so dear. And it pisses me off when I read garbage writing. How dare you make fun of my craft? Who the hell gave you a book deal?

I spent the afternoon at the Lennox Mall just browsing. I rarely do that because I feel like it’s torture when you see so much and you can’t buy any of it. But I went anyway all by myself just because I wanted to see what it was all about.

It’s a regular mall, but these aren’t regular people. There’s one thing that saddens me as I venture out and about in Atlanta. A few years ago, my first love and good friend Bernard called me up to tell me he had just visited Atlanta for the first time.

“Tee,” he breathed heavily into the phone as though he had just finished a marathon. “Every girl up there looks like you.”

“Wow.” I responded, recognizing the seriousness of the statement. Bernard happens to think I am beautiful. I trust his judgement. ~wink~

Lo and Behold, Behold and Lo, he was absolutely right. The women here are vibrant looking and very precise. I don’t stand out anymore. There are so many beautiful black people in Atlanta that you can literally have a feast with leftovers if you parked outside of any major church in the area on Sunday. Georgeous Black men and women who care about how they present themselves so much so that is is the norm to see every carwash completely full and every salon filled to the brim with women getting their style on.

Maybe it’s the circles that I travel in but I’ve only seen one woman with weave in her hair and her shit was bangin! It had her name shaved into the side. It was wild.

Every other woman is sporting natural hair. Did you hear what I said? SPORTING NATURAL HAIR! And I’m not talking about my buzz cut or even an afro. These chicks have long flowing hair that reaches their backs and they are BLACK women and they don’t have perms or weaves.

What a thought!

They get their hair pressed every week. It looks just like the ladies on the perm boxes. I was blown away by that.

I was always baldheaded ever since I can remember. I never had that ponytail that sticks out of the back of a baseball cap. I always wanted one.

What else is going on?

Awww….Ya’ll won’t believe this.

I’m in love.

With his words.

I’ve always known that words were sexy and tintillating and delicious, but until I was able to MEET other writers and see how their personalities are reflected in their writing, damn—writing has now gone x-rated!

There’s this man at my job. I’ve mentioned him before, I’ll call him Cancer. True, dude’s writing is in need of a little more development, but the rawness of his writing is intoxicating. His personality shines through in every sentence. He writes to a ryhthm I find intriguing. Kinda like he’s tap dancing while he’s flowing. And when you see him walk up and down the office with this grand bravado, laughing at his own jokes, calling himself sexy and brilliant, all I can do is—-

sigh…

I love creative people.

I’ll call him up while he’s in the airport on the way back to Atlanta and ask him to write a feature story about cars by the time he gets back. He pauses and thinks a minute. “Ok, it’s gonna be called, ‘Is That A Saturn?’ Make sure you add the question mark. I have a great idea for the feature.”

And by the time he reaches ground the story is already done.

Amazing.

Amazing.

A man who can communicate through the written word is so ~shakes~ to me.

And that’s why I was so hurt when I heard that my baby Kanye was engaged. The day I got the email from a concerned friend, I got up from my desk, walked slowly into the bathroom and leaned against the wall and cried.

I did.

And that’s when I realized how much his words had affected me. I had fallen in love with him simply because he spoke to me on a level that music had never taken me to before. I felt like his lyrics demonstrated what a lover of language could do with a string of words laced poetically through a melody.

As the days went by I felt better. Pictures of him and Alexis began popping up all over the internet. I took a long look at her and decided that I only want what’s best for him. She’s aiight.

Coincidently, I came across his CD. The same Late Registration CD I was bumping when I made the trip up here for the first time. I popped it in one morning and our love affair was rekindled right then.

I considered that, maybe Kanye wasn’t meant to ever be my lover or my husband.

Wow.

Did I just say that?

He’s everything you could ever ask for in a man. He’s creative, innovative, fearless, driven, talented, successful and…and……he’s a lover of words unlike any other in my age group.

But he’s taken.

I’ll just sit back and allow his lyrics to massage me to sleep. Maybe one day soon, someone else will come along who oozes the same intensity and charisma from his fingertips. And maybe he’ll read my work and feel the same way about me.

And maybe we’ll make lots of little booklets together.

Until then…I’m always writing.

Dark Skin and Strong Hands

I haven’t had secks in quite a while.

Hey, I can’t help it. It’s on my mind a lot. Especially on rainy days like today. Last week at this time I was hanging out with the barbeque guy and having a good time. A few hours later when things got heated I was in a state of confusion because even though he was well within my scope of men I would call ‘fine’ I didn’t want to do anything with him.

I have had other opportunities to get some, but again, I didn’t want to. Which begs the question: Am I celibate?

What is celibacy anyway? Is it simply abstaining from secks? Does celibacy have to be voluntary? Do you have to go a certain amount of time without it in order to be ‘official’?

Am I choosing celibacy or just not meeting the right guy?

I know that I do not want a booty call. I want someone who is emotionally available for me as well. And it took me long enough to get Dude to take an HIV test with me, I don’t wanna have to go through that again. If I am having secks with any man on a regular basis, we have to get tested together. Condoms or not, I begin to feel icky and I stay up late nights worrying about my status until I see that paper.

And I guess I want to meet someone that I admire. I want him to admire me too. I want him to be a fan of my writing and in general, a fan of my success.

I spoke with B the other day. Remember I met him at the beginning of this year. He’s the closest thing to perfect from where I sit, except, he doesn’t see me as anything but a friend. And it’s not like I’m a special friend. He makes friends wherever he goes because he is a very special man. He has the one quality that makes me go crazy; extreme ambition.

He just started a new job at Deloitte and he is so hungry to learn and exceed his counterparts. “I can’t wait to go to training,” he told me. “I’m gonna learn EVERYTHING I can so I can come out on top.”

“Get it Daddy!” I squealed, my passion fueled by his excitement to win.

It only saddens me that he’s fine as hell too. How nice. He wants to be friends. How nice is that?

Anyway…I’m sitting here trying to rationalize why I haven’t felt the embrace of a man in so long. Some days I feel like I’m going to die. When I’m at work I think about it. I look around at all the men there and think, “Does anyone wanna come home with me and cuddle?”

But I never say anything to them. I try not to have too deep of a conversation with the men there because I would be sadly disappointed if any of them tried to befriend me only to get some ‘icecream’.

I miss Dude.

I ain’t gonna lie. I do. I miss his companionship. I miss his smile. I miss him. He would give me the world’s best back massages. After he was done I felt like someone had untied all of the knots in my back and I could breathe better. I could behave like a brat and whine and complain and get upset and he’d just lay there and watch me rant. Then when I paused he’d ask, “Are you done yet?” and then we’d just relax and talk to each other. He didn’t take me being ME personally. Everyone who knows me knows I am a very tense person. All the time.

I need to lighten up.

I need to relax.

I’ve been telling myself these things for years and I have made no progress with that part of my personality. I’m still an uptight bitch.

I think I wanna cry tonight.

I love to cry because it allows me to show my weakness which is something I try never to do.

So thats it.

I’m celibate.

Do I have to sign a pledge card or something?

I will not have secks until I meet someone very special and he has traits (other than dark skin and strong hands) that are worthy of admiration. He has to excite the same way a well written poem excites me.

So…like Tonya said when I told her that it was hard being alone every day and night, “You’ll get used to it.”

I’ll get used to it eventually.

In the meantime, I think I’ll get another job to take my mind off of my lack of love and affection.

So it’s back to the couch for me!

Lata…

Celibacy Celebration

I’ve been having problems sleeping.

On Sunday I went out to take pictures of one of the people who will appear in my next feature story and when I came back I called Tamara. We chatted for a little while and she invited me to dinner at her place. I’ll take a quick nap, pack some clothes and head down there, I thought.

When I woke up it was storming and it was after 8pm so I wrote a little bit then I sat down to watch some TV hoping I’d fall asleep by 1am.

I sat dumbly in the dark for hours on end. I was about to cry when I saw the clock read 7:00. At 7:30 I called my editor and left a message saying that I would be late for work because I wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t exactly a lie because I have been feeling dizzy and nauseas this past weekend.

I guess I drifted off shortly thereafter but I managed to wake up by 11 and drag myself into work. I had a very productive day. For the first time it seems that I will meet my production deadlines. Everything seems to be making sense to me now and I believe I’ve developed a good working relationship with my colleagues.

I finally logged off my computer at work tonight at 7:20, said goodbye to the stragglers and walked out to my car.

“Hey!” I hear a voice call out behind me. It was Cancer, smiling and walking toward me, his camera satchel slung carelessly over one shoulder and his laptop carrier balanced on the other.

“Hi,” I smiled weakly. He makes me very nervous. For some reason, he looked nervous too.

“Um…Thank you for the card you gave me. It really brightened my day,” he said.

This morning I sent one of my friends a ‘thinking of you’ card in the mail and I noticed that I had an extra one that was inspirational. On the front it said BELIEVE. I knew that he had been kinda struggling with his confidence in chasing after his dreams so I addressed the card to him with a message that read: Don’t be afraid of success because it is just a natural part of your destiny.

I slipped it into his camera satchel as a surprise before I gave it back to him.
“No problem,”I responded to his gratitude.

He looked at the ground. I did too.

“Tell me something?” he asked, still staring at the concrete. “What is it that you want to do with your life?”

I looked directly at him, but he looked away. “I am going to be a motivational speaker, a best selling author and travel all over helping people to recognize the gift within them. It’s what I love to do most. It delights me that I can actually see something great in someone and help them to bring it out.” I shrug. “I just love celebrating people.”

“Wow.” he mumbled. “I think we need to talk sometime.”

“No problem. Just let me know,” I said and turned to open my car door.

“How about lunch tomorrow?”I heard him ask and I turn around and smile.

“Sounds like a plan.”

By the time I’m almost home I’m floating on air. I don’t know why but I have to pull over and relax my nerves at the gas station. I call Tonya. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t stop shaking,” I tell her after I relay the story about him asking me to lunch. “I wish Tamara could come with us, then I wouldn’t be so nervous.”

“Get over it Tee! He’s just a boy. You are going to have to learn to deal with men on your own sometime. It’s just LUNCH.”

“I know. I know. I’m just scared.”

When I finally put my key in the door I am feeling quite giddy.

I undress and fix myself a couple of sandwhiches and then I sit down on the couch and call Tamara. That chick is nowhere to be found. I hate her!

My phone rings and it’s Dude.

We have been talking pretty regularly since I’ve been up here. He misses me. I miss him. But the conversations are pretty much the same. Tonight I have important news to share and I’m interested to see his reaction.

“Guess what?” I ask him.

“What’s up?”

“I’m celibate.”

He pauses. “Celibate?”

“Yeah.Celibate. And I feel great! I feel like all the pressure is gone and I don’t have to please anyone but myself. No one is getting any until I feel like the time and the person is right.”

“As long as that doesn’t apply to me,” he remarks.

“Ofcourse it applies to you since you are the only person I’ve been dealing with,” I say and roll my eyes.

“You know I ain’t tryin to hear that right?” He laughs.

“Well too bad. You ain’t gettin none from me so you better go look for someone else.” I say defiantly.

He’s quiet for a moment as if he is considering what I am saying.

“You know that’s mine,” he says in a whisper.

I melt. “Um…No it’s not,” I say weakly.

“Yes it is and you better be ready for me when I come up there.”

“I don’t want you to come up here,” I whine. “I don’t want nothing you got.”

“Yes you do. You miss me don’t you?”

I sigh. “No.”

“Tell me it’s mine.” He says this in a tone that he KNOWS drives me crazy. I tremble.

“Leave me alone,” I whine.

“Tell me it’s mine,” he demands.

I shiver.

I hate him.

“And guess what else I’m gonna do to you when I see you…” he begins and I allow the memory of familiar -heat stroking booty slapping quit your job cuz it’s so damn good you don’t need money to survive- lust to take over…

“Is that all you want Daddy?” I purr into the phone.

Thank God he doesn’t live up here. It’s easy to be celibate when you have no temptation.

My Lunch “date”?

I think I found a barber today. But I don’t remember exactly where we were so I’ll need better directions.

During my lunch “Date” Cancer and I went to his spot to introduce me to his barber. On our way there he showed me a copy of the advice column that he writes and is trying to market to papers. It was well written. Like I said, he has the heart of a writer, he just needs some help developing his style and I really believe he will be a winner.

He’s extremely creative and I try to make sure that he doesn’t see how much his creativity turns me on. But I don’t know how well that is working. Everyday he stops by my desk to ask me to proof one of his stories before he turns it in and he knows that’s the copy editor’s job.

He also poured out his heart to me about his girlfriend who recently broke up with him and how he’s working overtime to get her back because he loves her so much…blah..blah…

I don’t wanna hear that shit.

But I encouraged him and told him that when it’s the right one he won’t have to prove himself.

~sigh~

Dude is definately a cutie though. And he’s a Cancer which means he’s loyal and nurturing. I think I want a Cancer man. The only thing about Cancer men that I’ve met is, they are always in these relationships that drain them. See, Cancers are extremely nurturing people and we tend to link up with people who need to be nurtured and babied and coddled. It’s a double edged sword because the person we attach ourselves to may never pull up out of their slump and end up bringing us down with them because we are so set on helping them to improve their life that we forget that relationships should be mutually compensatory.

Ahhh….

I had to leave work early this afternoon. Early being 4:30 since I rarely leave before 7. I was weak, dizzy and nauseas again. I barely made the drive home and by the time I got here I made a sandwhich and fell asleep which sucks because now I’ll probably be up all night again.

Blah…

I’m tense dammit!

And frustrated!

You all get on my damn nerves!

Lord, please let me get some much deserved affection soon so I won’t resort to fussing at my readers…

Woe Is Me

I just got my next assignment and I’m sad to say that I will have to endure the torture of experiencing 3 and a half hours of grueling pampering at one of the premiere spas in Atlanta in order to write a review of their services. Facial, manicure, pedicure and massage.

I know, it sucks.

The worst part is, I get to invite a friend to go with me for free.

Life isn’t supposed to be like this. Why would God do this to me?

I guess….

It’s just a part of my job and I have to accept it.

~sadly~ What else can I do?

My First Date

Was I dreaming that night?

It sure felt like a dream. Maybe I imagined the whole thing.

I meet men all the time. But for some reason the ones who approach me automatically turn me off. I don’t want to be approached by some guy because he thinks I’m pretty. I associate those admiring eyes with his desire to admire my naked booty bent over the kitchen counter. I know that’s what he really wants. So when they try to get my number I am immediately turned off for the most part. I guess I want to meet someone who admires my work ethic and my drive and wants to be a part of my vision for my life. Is that too much to ask?

I had been complaining to Ruby about my lack of companionship when she visited for Labor Day Weekend and as always, she decided to solve the problem.

“Oh, I got a homeboy for you. You’ll like him, his name is Dell. He’s from Miami and he’s very smart. He’s got his own computer consulting business and he’s hard working,” she said while she dialed his number. “Yeah girl…you’ll like him. He’s skinny though but I think he’s just your type.”

He answered the phone but he told Ruby that he was in Miami for the weekend and would hit her up when he got back.

Weeks passed and my body tensed into a seemingly unpenetrable giant knot. If I don’t get some TLC soon, I’m gonna go on a rampage. So I called Ruby up and asked her about her friend.

“Come on Ruby,” I pleaded. “Call your friend. I need some company. I’m tired of being by myself.”

“Ok, I’ll call him right now and tell him to expect your call.”

When she called me back to give me the number I decided to call the next day. When I got home from work I relaxed a little bit and put the red dye in my hair and picked up the paper with his number on it. I dialed the numbers slowly and he picked up on the second ring.

“Hello,” he said.
“Hi. This is Ms. Tee, Ruby’s friend. She gave me your number to call and be friends.”

He laughed.

We ended up talking about our career goals and how much we miss Miami barbers because the barbers up here suck. They don’t know the first thing about giving haircuts. He said that he had been through about 10 barbers and finally found one that he liked. The conversation was so smooth that he invited me to meet him the next day for pizza after work.

Ruby told me she emailed him a picture of me but I had no clue what he looked like. I didn’t care. As long as he was cool and down to hang out, he could look like Jamie Foxx (BEFORE the millions) and I wouldn’t care.

So I was excited that I kinda had a blind date so the next day I went into work looking jazzy in bright oranges and reds to match my hair. After work I stopped by the mall to pick up some things for Tamara and then I made the trek downtown to meet up with him at a pizza place called Slice in Castlebury.

When I stepped out of my car I heard someone say, “Tee!” I looked across the street and a dark skinned goofy looking man was standing there smiling at me. Ughh…I thought. I guess that’s him.

I put on a cordial smile and walk over to him. I pause when I realize that the man calling my name is the barber who messed up my haircut. I looked around the area. Yeah…I was just over here the other day wasting my money when this dude actually asked me, “Why would you want your edge round like that?” I looked at him like he was stupid. “Cuz that’s how I wear my hair. I’m not a man.”

After he finished my cut I realized why he asked me that. Cuz his ass couldn’t give me a round edge to save his life. No wonder he told me stories about how female customers complained about his cuts. He put it as though they were just trying to get over on him but I knew the truth. DUDE! You can’t cut hair! Get over it!

But he seemed so sensitive that I didn’t get rowdy with him. Especially since my co worker took me over there and I didn’t want to bring any nasty associations to my office. So I took the loss like a soldier and strutted with my bad haircut like the star that I am.

Anyway…I walked over to the pizza place and opened the door. All eyes were on me for a second as I scanned the room for someone who looked like they were looking for me. No one was.

I sat down on a bar stool and eyed the crowd. They were eyeing me back but I didn’t care. I’m so stunning all they can ever do is stare. ~wink~

I pull out my phone and dial his number. Two men put their phones to their ears. One walks outside because the place is noisy. I try to yell into my phone over the noise but I can’t hear anything so I decide to send a text message.

I’m inside. I type.

The man who is outside walks back in and over to me with a huge grin on his face as I stand up and extend my hand.

“Hi, I’m Ms. Tee, “I say and he pulls me into a hug, knocking my glasses off the top of my head and stepping on my toes.

“Oh, I stepped on your foot and I knocked your glasses off,” he apologizes. “Im sorry about that. Come over here and meet my friends.”

I follow him to a table that is directly in the middle of the restaurant. I notice that everyone is eating custom slices and drinking liquor and wine and beer.

“Would you like a drink?” he asks me.
“No, I’m okay.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t drink and drive.” I reply confidently.
“Don’t worry about that. Remember I run a tow company. I’ll have one of the drivers tow your car for you. You can ride with me.”

I laugh. Okay. I guess.

He introduces me to his friends who are actually his co-workers. They started their own towing service about 2 years ago and ran into many hardships along the way but now they are bigger and better than ever and have a fleet of tow trucks and get jobs transporting cars for dealerships. And this is Dell’s SIDE job. I like that. A lot.

So once I get comfy I listen in on his conversation with his co workers. They all seem to LOVE their jobs and it coulda been the liquour but I could tell they enjoyed working with each other. Their were two men and a woman there who made the success of their business their priority.

After I peeped the friendly comraderie, I decided to really check Dell out. I was expecting a Lupe Fiasco but he was more of a Pharrell. He caught me looking at him and he smiled. I smiled back and bit my lip, cocking my head to the side and giving him the Hell-yeah -I’m feelin you glance.

I could see him blush and smile again. I love making men blush. ~giggles~

His friends all left and we sat across from each other as we waited for the driver to come get my car. He told me all about how his businesses got started and some other areas he hopes to expand to. When the conversation lulled I could tell he was just as into me as I was into him so I asked him the basics- wife? girlfriend? Seeing anyone?

The answer was no to all three questions. “But,” he said. “I’m gonna be honest with you. I do have someone in my life who I care very deeply for. We’ve been apart for a year and a half now and like you said last night when we were on the phone, it’s like, I have so much hope for her but I don’t see any evidence of her ever being the woman that I need by my side.”

I could sense there was some hurt in his eyes and I realized what I had done. He’s a CANCER. Emotional ass…He probably really loved this girl and she treated him like crap just like all the other CANCER men I know.

I sigh at this revelation. Well, maybe I can be his friend and at least help him to be able to deal with it better. He’s probably never going to stop loving her or wondering when she’ll love him the way he knows he should be loved.

“You remind me of someone,” I tell him. “You remind me of my son’s godfather. His name is Rick and you have that same gentle spirit that he has. I just wanna hug you.”

“I’m open to that,” he tells me and blushes again.

By this time I’m done with my drink and I’m just a wee bit tipsy. Not too much. I could have driven but I think he wanted me to ride with him. We walk outside and meet the driver and I give him my car keys and we hop into Dell’s truck. Dell says that my car will be parked at his place for the night.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“We’re gonna stop by the barber for a minute and then we’ll go back to my place I need to shower and change. I’ve been in these clothes all day.”

We pull up to a white building and hop out in the cold night air. He ushers me inside and down some stairs and he walks up and says hello to the women who work there and then the barber. I sit down with the other women who are waiting to get their hair curled or weaves pressed.

He motions for me to join him as the barber places the cap around his neck. I walk over and take a seat in the vacant barber’s chair.

“She needs a cut,” he tells the barber and my eyes grow wide. He’s getting me a haircut too? How nice of him.

While he’s in the chair I stare at him and decide that I really like his face. He is definately handsome.

When it’s my turn I try to close my eyes so I won’t have to look at him but everytime I open them he’s looking right at me and smiling. His barber fixes my messed up edge and sharpens my V in the back of my neck.

I stand up smiling and we run out of there quickly.

On the way to his house I’m looking at the way he drives and I’m getting turned on. There’s a silent seduction going on here. I feel it. Why is this skinny dude so sexy to me?

When we get back to his apartment he opens the door and I take off my shoes and sit down on the white leather couch. “Do you mind if I get comfortable?” I ask him.

“You better.” he says as he empties his pockets before going into his bedroom.

Getting comfortable for me means sitting cross legged on the couch. I don’t know why I love this position. Hey…I’m sitting cross legged as I type this. LOL!

He comes out into the living room and places a little baggie on the table. Ooh. I know what that is.

He yawns, looks at me and says, “I smoke weed. You can accept it or reject it but you GOT to respect it.”

I laugh as he makes his way back to his bedroom.

“You want me to roll that up?”I call out.

He peeks his head out of the bedroom door. “Wow. Yeah..Go ahead. Ruby is gonna get a handshake from me. I like that.” He smiles and dissappears into the shower.

I roll up and I fire it up when he emerges. He’s looking too cute in an orange and white polo shirt with the air force ones to match.

“Did you notice that I decided to wear orange so we could match?” he asks me.

Awwwwwwwwwwww……….

At this point in my mind I break down. I try my best not to let him see it though. This guy is being so nice to me. He actually wants to go out in public with me and he wants to MATCH colors with me. ~shakes head~ To this day, not a single soul in Dude’s life knows he ever met a woman named Ms. Tee. I always thought he was ashamed of me.

And ofcourse you know my children’s father was never proud to tell anyone he had children with me. I’m feeling kinda nervous because I keep thinking that eventually he’s going to see what all the other men in my life have seen and he’s gonna reject me too. But I can’t help but remember what Tamara tells me when I’m feeling insecure. “Tee, be yourself. If the person can’t deal with that then they don’t need to. Its not meant to be.”

I mostly have to hear that statement when I’m feeling like holding back on who I am. I’m a motivator dammit! I buy cards for people. I call them up just to tell them how great I think they are. Everyone is a star to me and the thing that makes me most happy in life is showing others how great they are. But I sometimes feel self concious about it because I don’t want to seem insincere. I’m never fake like that but people look at me funny because they may not be used to someone praising them.

We puff and we pass, we pass and we puff and we talk over the big moments in our pasts. I tell him all about my move up here and my sons in Miami and their father and his fiance and my hopes for the future. We also talk about our sexual habits including the fact that if I am going to have secks with anyone on a regular basis we have to get HIV tests together. He nods his head in agreement. We seem to be on the same page about a lot of things, especially the pursuit of success. When I tell him that I don’t clean up he smiles and says, “That’s okay. We’ll get a maid.”

“Wait,” he says again. “As long as you’re WORKING we can get a maid.” I laugh.

“That’s the plan,”I tell him jumping up and down in my seat like a little kid. “I have to work hard so I won’t have to do any of the things I don’t want to do. I want a maid, a chef and a driver and I’m willing to work to be able to get that.”

He smiles at me.

“Are you gonna try to have secks with me?” I ask him bluntly and tell the story about the barbeque guy who got cut off because he tried me.

“I don’t like to try to persuade a woman to have secks with me. I know that if I really wanted to, I could push and pull and cajole you into doing it but…that’s no fun. I want you to WANT to have secks with me. It’s better that way.”

I smile at him.

I like him.

We talk about our first impressions of each other and I tell him that I thought he was gonna look like a nerd.

“When I turned around and saw you,” he said. “I thought, ‘Damn! Is that for me?!’ I had to tell myself to stop smiling so hard or you were gonna think I was a punk.”

This time I blushed. I’m glad he finds me attractive. I find him attractive too.

“This is the first time,” I say, completely opening up to him. “Since I’ve been an adult, that I can actually be free to enjoy myself. I never allowed myself that once I had my sons. I’ve been so uptight and punishing myself for years for having kids so young. I always thought that they had to be my whole world and now I have this new life. It’s scary but it’s cool. They are well taken care of with their Dad and they really need their father.”

“This is your time to evolve and become the woman that you always wanted to be,” he tells me and passes it back to me. “This is your time.”

By the time we finish smoking we have to rush out because his friends keep calling him. They are waiting for us at a comedy club called Throbacks. Don’t ask me where it was, I was GONE by this point.

We walk through the door to the club and his friends introduce themselves to me. I laugh at them and try to maintain my composure as we walk through the crowd to find seats. Before we find one I hear someone call out my name. I’m freaked out at this point because my name is unique and I’ve been keeping a low profile since I’ve been here.

“Ms. Tee!” I hear it again. I turn around and it’s this guy I knew from college. I remember him being a good person so I smile and give him a hug.

“I saw you on Facebook and read that you had moved to Atlanta,” he said.

“Um..yep. It’s cool here. Have you ever been to his club?”

“No, this is my first time.”

“Mine too, let me go sit down with my friend. It’s good to see you. Hit me up on Facebook.”

The club called Throbacks presents local comedians who aren’t really telling jokes. They are really just making fun of each other. It kinda sounded like PE class in highschool but they were much more funny.

After we order our drinks and food I’m feeling quite…um…LOL! Well, you know your girl Ms. Tee is in need of some TLC and this man seems like a nice guy. I look around at all the single women sitting with their friends and I remember that was a lifestyle for me.

I’m actually out in public with an attractive man. I am actually on a date. Wow. Then I start to feel like I don’t want this night to end. I don’t want this euphoria to subside and reality sets in and ruins everything.

I’m like, FUCK CELIBACY!

I’ll get my booty rubbed tonight and then I won’t even care if he calls me back. That’s right. I can do this! I can have a one night stand. As long as we have condoms we are okay.

I lean over and whisper into his ear, “I’m ready to go.”

He looks at me, “Go where.”

“To your place,” I say seductively and run my finger along his thigh.

He looks a bit surprised. “Okay. Let’s go.”

We head back out to the car and by the time the night air reaches my face I’m a lot more sober than I was while we were in the club.

“Um…” I say hesitantly. “I’m not as tipsy as I was back there. I don’t really know if I want to do that anymore. Uh..I’ve come to my senses.”

“Do you need another drink?” he asks and smiles at me.

“NO! Actually I think I’m okay to drive home.”

“Look, its late and I have to be out the door by 5:30 anyway. You’re gonna come in and get some rest and leave in the morning.”

Well damn…

“Okay,” I say.

When we get inside we undress and lie down next to each other. His skinny bones are sticking out and it’s so funny to me.

“What’s your last name?” I ask him. He tells me. “What’s your middle name?” He tells me. “What’s your Mama name” He laughs and tells me.

Then he asks me the same questions and I provide the answers.

We both laugh and snuggle up.

No kissing. Well, maybe a little on my part but he wasn’t very receptive to my advances. No booty rubbing and no condom package ripping.

We…just…slept…

I hear him get up, take a shower and fumble around in his closet.

I open one eye and realize that it’s probably time to get dressed. I stand up and stretch and then dress myself. He walks over to me and I say goodmorning. He’s rushing around the house gathering his stuff. I look at him and laugh. The entire night he was on his blackberry and on his cell phone handling office business. It doesn’t seem like he ever gets a break.

He walks over to me and stands in front of me. I give him a big hug and he hugs me back.

“I had a good time last night,” he says and I tell him that I did too.

We hop into his truck and he drops me to my car and I follow him back to the expressway wondering if this man is really this cool. Is he really that fine? Did we really have a great time and he didn’t even try me? Why didn’t he try me? Is he on the down low?

You know I asked him and he said, “Don’t bring that shit up again,” when he saw I was studying him closely looking for clues.

I had a great time with a great guy and even though it’s always nerve wrecking waiting for the call back, if he doesn’t call, I’ll always appreciate how wonderful my first date in Atlanta was.