"There are notes between notes, you know." -- Sarah Vaughan

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Alone With You -- Tevin Campbell

I used to love this song, though I had to admit hearing him say, "My name's Tevin... what's yours?" like he's trying to be sexy when he looks and sounds 12 is kinda gross.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Getting outside the comfort zone

I hang out with Mr. XSLS. We are friends. On Sunday I went to my ex-in-laws house where they were cooking out, let niece SLS play with my doggy, then Mr. XSLS and I took the dog home and went to see The Avengers again (we went to see it at midnight on opening night).

This is all cool, but didn't we get divorced because we couldn't be married? Then why are we playing?

I gave this some serious thought while in the shower yesterday because it occurred to me that we are both sort of being punks. It's easy to stay in this space with each other where it's comfortable. We were always friends, we have a lot of the same interests, we don't argue, we don't live together anymore and now, we don't have to be bothered with each other when we don't want to be, so easy peasy LEMON SQUEEZY.

But neither of us is dating, either. And no, there's no law that says we HAVE to date, but I wonder if the fact that we are getting everything but bootie from each other has made us lazy about making ourselves available.

So one of us is going to have to rip the band-aid off. Probably me.

To be honest though, back when I was all devastated about our marriage dissolving I was sure Mr. XSLS would be boo'd up quick, but with the exception of his one or two (or five) little booty call situations that hasn't been the case.

I've been on some dates and even had a sort-of-but-not-really little emotional tie with the teacher.

However, I'm content just being...alone and, again, I think that's because I'm getting a good bit of what I need companionship-wise from Mr. XSLS.

Anyway, something to think about on a Tuesday (of a short work week YAY!).

Friday, May 25, 2012

FROM THE SLS ARCHIVES SingLikeSassy: The Hitcher

My cousin Chris is just shy of one year older than me. He's an only child, his parents divorced when he was 1, our moms are sisters and we were raised more like brother and sister than cousins.

That meant we did everything together when we were kids. And our moms made it clear that we were to take care of each other. NO MATTER WHAT. If Chris jumped off the cliff my dead body better be laying next to his when he was found. It was drilled into us: STAY TOGETHER.

For a couple of summers we went to day camp at a YMCA. One day the Y took us on a field trip to a local park. I was 5, Chris was 6.

We're playing on the monkey bars and swings when Chris decides he wants to go to another part of the park we could see from where we were that had a fire truck and an airplane. I'm worried about leaving the group, but Chris wasn't changing his mind and my mama and aunt said STAY TOGETHER. So, I go too.

We get over and there are no other kids! We have it all to ourselves! What a great idea you had cousin! And we play. And play. And play.

Finally, we look up and notice that our group wasn't where we left them. We run over there and they are nowhere to be found. We look to where the buses were and they are gone. I start crying (I cried a lot as a kid, too) because, we're LOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSST, THEY LEFT USSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. Chris tells me to be quiet and I stop bawling and just sniffle and whimper a little while he thinks.

Then Chris says, "I guess we have to hitchhike home. Come on."

I am terrified. My daddy told me never, ever, ever, ever do that! He said you don't get in cars with strangers ever. Not never. Ever. I start crying again.

Chris takes my hand and we walk out of the park to a residential street. He tells me to stop crying. We will get home. I believe him. I shut up.

He then sticks out his thumb and I do, too, we walk for about a block. A car stops. I hunker behind Chris. A lady sticks her head out of the window and says with a frown, "What are you kids doing out here? Are you with that group from the Y?"

Chris says yes, I hold his hand ready to cry some more because if Chris gets in the car, I have to go, too. My daddy said not to, but my mama and aunt said STAY TOGETHER. NO MATTER WHAT.

Then a miracle happens. The lady tells us that our group hadn't left, it was on another side of the park. "If you hurry you can catch them," she says.

Chris and I thank this angel from God and run to that part of the park where we meet the group. The leaders have just realized we are missing. o__O

We get a popsicle, Chris and I vow not to ever tell our parents and all is good.

The next day my aunt picks us up from the Y. Chris and I are squeezed in to the front seat together and he leans in to me and -- out of the blue -- says in a stage whisper: "DID YOU TELL YOUR MAMA?"

I stage whisper back, "NO. DID YOU?"

My aunt says in her regular voice, "Tell your mama what?"

The jig is up. We have to tell it. My aunt fusses all the way to my house and then we have to tell this story again to my parents.

Somehow, some way, we don't get punished, just a stern fussing at for leaving the group AND praise because (all together now): WE STAYED TOGETHER.

Tomorrow: We're off to see the Wizard!

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

From the SLS Archives: "Why do we do this to ourselves?"

This is a post from last August that made me laugh on a second read so thought I would re-post:

My girlfriend called yesterday to tell me she had decided she wanted her man back.

The short version is they got together six years ago, moved in together, sold their homes and bought one together, hit a pothole, didn't sort it out well, she got pregnant by accident in the middle of that, baby comes, she wants to get married, but hates being vulnerable and couldn't bring herself to tell him how she felt and her silence said to him she didn't care if he lived or breathed so he moved out two months ago and she watched him go. Baby is two and a half.

Two weeks ago she realized she had made a mistake so she broke down and said something. Her dude expresses shock because he had been waiting to hear all that for three years and now he's dating someone else. He needs to think about it.

She calls me explaining all this and then asks, "How do you keep doing this feelings and emotions and love stuff? I hate it. I hate the uncertainty! Why do we do this to ourselves? ARRRRGGGHH!"

I laughed but she was asking this as a SERIOUS question so I tried to give her a serious answer: "I don't know. I just keep believing it will work out."

I knew why she was asking me for advice, of all people. I told someone recently that I wear my heart on my sleeve. As such, I get my feelings hurt. A lot.

But I never stop believing I will have the love I want. My marriage is ending, but for four years I was happily and madly in love with Mr. SLS. And for all the shit talking I've done here recently, I know that he loved me, too, for at least some of that time.

Don't get me wrong. I HATEEEEEEEEEE dating. You know the early part where you're seeing someone and you feel a spark, but you're not sure it's mutual so you try to play it cool cause you don't want to get too excited, but you do all this thinking about them and your palms get sweaty when you call or text them because you don't want to call or text too much/often and in your head you're creating all kinds of scenarios for what they might be thinking when your name pops up on the screen because when their name pops up on your screen your stomach does flipflops and then when you go out on dates with them you chatter chatter chatter because you're nervous and wonder if you put on too much perfume and/or makeup and too few clothes and then at the end of the date you don't know what to do because you don't make moves on men, but boy his lips look soft and his eyes are soooo dreamy so you stand there looking stupid until he hugs you and you say goodnight and then it starts all over again? No? Just me? Oh, well, nevermind then.

Um, yeah. Where was I again? Oh, right, right, wearing my heart on my sleeve, never stop believing...

Basically, I never want to have regrets, so I take emotional risks. Sometimes they net results, sometimes I'm left laying in the bed nursing a head cold, eating Oreo cookies and watching court shows on TV.

But you have to keep trying, right?

Monday, May 21, 2012

My "perfect" man...

I somehow stumbled on Single Black Male (possibly via Slim who comments on Black 'n Bougie) and today's post was about dating, the perfect man/woman.

My "requirements" (that sounds so rigid, ugh) have changed over time and will likely continue to evolve as I learn more about myself. Here's what I wrote there about my "perfect" mate and I believe that no matter how old I get, these things will remain firm:
He would be someone who understands commitment and is willing to put in the effort and work it requires. I need someone who can teach me something(s) as I like to admire my man. Someone who is curious about the world and has sought out opportunities to learn about it. Must be funny and personable. Someone who has dated enough to know what he wants, but not so much that he's jaded about women and relationships. Someone who wants and appreciates love and understands the difference between what's good for him and what's good to him. Someone I can trust and have the confidence in to follow his leadership even when I'm not sure of the final destination. A good steward of his finances. Passionate about his career, whatever it is. Looks at me like I'm Halle Berry or whatever hawt starlet he's into. Someone who can write/express himself well. 
Note that none of that references looks, height, cars, salary minimums, clothes, hoes. Cause for me, THAT stuff is fluid (cept the hoes, I just threw that in to see if you were paying attention LOL).
Check out that blog. It seems thoughtful and well written, and I appreciate the conversation those brothers are creating. I shared it with my younger 20-something cousin and told her to read and pay attention.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

On my 24th birthday...

I was sitting with my then boyfriend all teary about the direction my life had taken, including working at a job I hated. He told me, "you have to work,  but you don't have to work there."

Life is simple. PEOPLE make it hard.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Late last summer...

...an older lady said to me, "sometimes when folks know they don't mean you no good, they just leave you alone."

Chew on that for a minute.

And HEY! *waves*