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

Monday, September 30, 2013

The Long And Winding Road....

Hey! *waves* This post may be long and rambly, so I apologize in advance.

I read this statement yesterday and it gave me pause:
 "…in general people regret inactions rather than actions.  There's actually a whole field of study in social psychology related to this phenomenon.  It has to do with "counterfactual thinking. If you do something, you will know what the results were, for better or worse, and deal with it.  If you FAIL to do something, you always imagine it having the best possible outcome, and it becomes this idealized scenario in your mind."
Is this true for you?"

Back in December 2004, I decided I was moving to Paris. Why? Because. Just, because. Seriously, there was no real reason other than I've just always wanted to live in another country and I speak enough French to manage so, BAM, Paris it was. (yes, I have visited the city before, I wasn't going sight unseen)

I was so committed I told my parents and friends 'cause I wanted to talk it into life. I started preparing to go and had compiled a bunch of freelancing contacts, resources for African-American ex-pats, hairstylists, places to live and so on.

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Who is your cheerleader?

Didn't mean to be away this long, but I was busy socializing, then I was traveling and then I couldn't get into the blog.

But anyway! Today I want to write about cheerleaders. Do you have one or more? I'm talking about people who are in your corner rooting for you to succeed. People who help boost your confidence when you stumble and start doubting yourself.

I can happily say that I have always had lots of cheerleaders -- my parents, my friends, my family. Folks have always believed in me. But in the past two years or so I've had one cheerleader that I didn't appreciate until recently: my high school boyfriend.

We haven't seen each other in person in years -- at least since I was in college -- but bumped into each other on a reunion site back when I was married (he was married too, at the time) and we caught up. He got divorced first and then my shit crashed and burned.

Now, let me be clear. We aren't hooking up. We haven't even talked on the phone more than once or twice. There's nothing going on here.

But when I told him my husband had cheated and that's why we aren't together, this man realized what a blow to my confidence and self-esteem that was and unbeknown to me, he made it his mission to tell me every day via text that I'm beautiful, hawt, sexy, desirable etc.

At first the texts made me uncomfortable. Then I got used to them, but just laughed them off. Then I started sending him pics (not sexy ones!) if I got a new wig or hairstyle and when I started losing weight. One day I realized that I looked forward to and appreciated his messages. Cause I AM beautiful, hawt, sexy, desirable and more.

I mentioned to him one day how his texts had really helped a few times when I was feeling fat, ugly and unlovable and that's when he told me that that's the reason he sends them. He remembered those months after his divorce when he was feeling like shit. He sought out lots of women to feel better, but knew I would not take the "get over one man by getting under another" route. So he sent me texts.

If you had ASKED me if I needed that kind of cheerleader, I would have scoffed and been all dismissive. But sometimes people in our lives know what we need before we know it. I needed those texts. Shit, I still need them. Thank goodness he knew what I didn't.

And I'm posting this cause it always makes me smile.





Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Do something that's worth the risk

"You have to find something that you love enough to be able to take risks, jump over the hurdles and break through the brick walls that are always going to be placed in front of you. If you don't have that kind of feeling for what it is you are doing, you'll stop at the first giant hurdle." - George Lucas

Monday, August 26, 2013

"U better live now, before the grim reaper come knocking on your door" -- Prince

I went to a Prince v. Michael Jackson dance party at the Howard Theater on Friday night and this Prince-like dude right here was doing IT!


Before the dance-a-thon, I went to the gym at work and did a bunch of squats, push ups and lunges. My body has been hurting ever since. It's a good hurt, though. Imma be FIERCE when I get these next 25 pounds off, this belly flat and some definition in these arms!

Remember I told you two Saturdays ago that I had signed up for a one-day acting class to jump start my "get back to living and loving life" campaign? Well, the class was this past Saturday and it was (warning, lots of cliches to follow) every.little.thing. It was like the heavens opened up and the sun started shining on me. I felt at home and at peace. This sums me up as I left the class:

The lesson learned? Never ever ever allow the creative/artistic side of me to lie dormant again.

Friday, August 23, 2013

Follow up to the dust and crumb posts

On Wednesday we laughed and pointed at my lameness chatted about celibacy and @reads4pleasure noted in the comments that she too struggles when it comes to making moves on guys and getting cocoa heated up for stirring.

@TiffanyInHouston responded that it wasn't that simple, but that it wasn't that hard and I think that's both right and wrong at the same time, as I think how easy it is for you to be more se.xua.lly assertive is going to vary from one person to the next.

I'm awkward (people NEVER believe this, but I have worked very hard over the years at not being shy) and generally traditional, and as a result I am most comfortable with intimacy in a committed mutually faithful relationship. I can talk all big about wanting to get it in and all that but I know that if I open these legs to some guy and he doesn't call the next day or any of the days after that, my feelings will be hurt. I know a healthier way to look at the situation is that me and dude were taking care of a physical need, that makes sense to me LOGICALLY, but the emotional part of me would have a hard time being OK with a guy who didn't want to deal with all of me 'cause what's between my legs is not, IMO, the best part of me (it's good, now, don't get it twisted, but it's not the BEST part of me LOL)

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Fitting In Cardboard

This video sums up my awkward ass.




Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Dust off your [redacted]

I wasn't going to do a second post today, but @tiffanyhhouston, @earthangel and some other folks over on the Twitters are slaying me today talmbout folks who go years and years and years and years and years and years and years without stirring cocoa.

Now, as a two-plus-year member of the celibacy crew right now, I understand that sometimes you have to just step away from all of the physical stuff. I've also never been a casual cocoa stirrer (it would fix SO MANY OF THE THINGS if I could be though, sigh). And, honestly, until recently I wasn't even missing it or bothered by the lack of cocoa.

But, now I am. It's like I went to sleep and woke up and all the men are looking good, damn it. I went from feeling kind of removed from all of that to not being able to focus on anything other than a dude's body parts and how they might feel if I put my lips on them and feeling all tingly just standing close to them wondering what his hand might feel like touching me -- all manner of stuff. It's like I'm a teen boy all of a sudden.



"Just Adopt!"

I haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate it when people say this, especially if they are people who have never struggled to get pregnant. It's easy to tell someone to "just adopt!" when you can just lie down, stir cocoa, and get up the next day with a baby in your belly.

Yeah, "just adopt" and "just get over it," fall into the "this isn't my issue and I don't care if you are upset" ignorance and insensitivity area IMO.


Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Making a way when there ain't one

I took my current job partly because I needed to move on from where I was and partly because I wanted something that had regular hours so I could focus on being a wife and mom. The hours were good, the money was nice, the offices were walking distance from Mr. XSLS' house and though I hated it at first, I eventually found the sweet spot and settled in.



Monday, August 19, 2013

Alright, alright, alrighttttttt, just keep on livin'

Welp, I had an extra fun weekend and came to work feeling all easy breezy cover girl today. *twirls and sprinkles confetti all over the blog*

I joined the gym at work (I mentioned in my last post that I need to lose more weight, build some muscle and flatten this stomach, cause only babies look cute with bellies) and I reached out to Mr. XSLS about helping me find a vocal coach. Once I get a fire under my ass I do get on the move.

I also went on 'head and relaxed my hair again. I am loving my ash blonde pixie cut fitty-leven more times than I loved my twa. I mean I loved the EASE of caring for the twa, but I feel more attractive with relaxed hair. And given that I got  "hey Miss Lady, lookin' good" from three different dudes within 20 minutes as I walked from the bank back to work earlier, Imma say that my assessment was dead on.

That's all I'm giving you today, though I have some interesting post ideas for the rest of the week. Write at you soon! *sashays out of the blog*

Saturday, August 17, 2013

Friday turned out to be a heavy day anyway...

Someone I loved and admired passed away. I spent half the day crying at my desk and the other half crying at someone else's desk as we remembered good times with our friend and mourned the loss.

It wasn't unexpected and it was at the same time because part of my brain was in denial about how sick they were and refused to acknowledge death as an option. Too young, too vibrant, too strong, too talented, too much of every superlative you can think of for death to be an option.

I woke up early this morning feeling like I needed to do something to honor my friend and the life she isn't able to have. The days of just getting from one day to the next are over. A life is to be lived. I don't know what my purpose is but I going to do whatever I have to do to figure it out so I can get about it. YOLO indeed.


Friday, August 16, 2013

Boobcrumb-gate 2012

This morning as I was driving to work it popped into my head that I had never shared the mortifying incident that my friends and I now call, "Boobcrumb-gate." I think I have enough distance from it now that I can discuss.

So. Here 'tis.

Against my better judgment I was having a little conversation with the teacher again. I KNOW, I should have left him alone, but, I figured I was pregnant with my ex-husband's baby, all rules are out of the window now. And what could be the harm in some Words With Friends and a little conversation/texting/email?



Things are the same and yet, so much has changed

I spent some time reading through old posts yesterday, and it was odd looking at all that has happened in the last five years from a distance. I'm so far away from the high moments (the first year of my marriage) and the low ones (infidelity, infertility, baby losses) now, it's almost (but not quite) hard to remember all I was feeling at the time.

Still, I am glad I wrote it down. It's nice to read about the good times as it's a reminder that there were good times.

It also helped me to deal with the bad stuff by getting it out of my head and off my heart, especially at times when I couldn't talk to other people or I felt like people had just gotten tired of listening to me and my problems -- not to trivialize them, cause I was going through some real shit, but after a bit, folks want you to heal and move on. Shoot, I wanted to heal and move on.

But as I have noted, I laugh and joke and seem like an open book and all that, but most of that is cover up for the fact that I am very sensitive and my feelings get hurt easily. And when that happens, I turn inward, pull away, burrow in.

For example, a conversation at work Wednesday morning led me to just fold in on myself for the rest of the day. I shouldn't have let it effect me in that way, because in hindsight I see that the person had an agenda, which was to make me responsible for their feelings in a situation I have nothing to do with, at all. But it hurts me because it tells me we are not the friends I thought that we were and if I have learned nothing else, I know this: when people show you who they are, believe them the first time. I will keep this person at arm's length from now on.


Thursday, August 15, 2013

*Moonwalks into the blog, twirls, pivots on tips of toes, tosses hat into crowd* SHAMON!

Hey e'rybody! I woke up this morning and was like, I need to be blogging! So I spent the next 30 mins trying to figure out how to get back into this blog, then how to get into the email associated with this blog so that I could get back into the blog and then how to get into the Twitter account associated with the blog, then how to get the blog to be open to readers again and by the time I did all that I only had time to write that one sentence in the post before this one and then I had to put on some clothes and get to work.

But, I'm here!!

So here's what I have to say....*crickets*

Bwaaahaaahaaaa. Nah, I want to talk about panties. Yes, I said it: PANTIES.

I used to be a panties all the time person. The idea of there being nothing between my ass and my pants was nasty. Ew.

Then I got married.

Mr. XSLS asked me at the beginning of our marriage to not wear panties. I wanted to be a good little wife so I giggled and said, "OK."

And thus the beginning of my (mostly) panty-free life. It's been liberating!

Except, I wear a lot of dresses. And sometimes I forget I don't have on panties. Or can't remember if I put on some. Like at the movies the other day. I tend to put my feet on the seat in front of me because I'm short enough that I can't touch the floor in movie seats (shaddup!). I wanted to put my feet up but for the life of me I couldn't remember if I had on underwear and if I did if they covered my ass, went up my asscrack -- what was the situation down below cause I didn't want to flash folks or have my cheeks exposed to the elements. In the end I remembered that I had on some Skittles-colored briefs and I put my feet up.

But what about you? Panties on, off, up the ass crack drawers? How do you navigate steps and shit without exposing the guzzlestrang?


What's happening people?

I think I might feel like blogging again.