Life is a Journey. . . Not a Destination!

Portland Cello Project Covering Kanye West "All of the Lights"

2011-02-12T23:13:00.000-05:00

I can't get enough of this...Enjoy! New Blog entry coming soon!

2010-01-10T22:31:00.013-05:00

So, another year has passed. As you can clearly see, I was not on my grind last year with the blog. One of my promises to myself this year is to feed my spirit and write, honestly and often! For about 12 plus years or so, every New Year's Eve a few of my sister friends & I write letters to ourselves outlining our goals for the upcoming year, after reflecting on the past year. From my examination, 2009 was a pretty ok year. I traveled a few times. I spent meaningful time with several of my closest friends that I don't get to see very often. I went to the Inauguration of Barack Obama, in the freezing cold, broken foot and all! I moved! I moved?!?! I moved. (I'll get back to the move in my next post. That was an experience for sure!) Anyway, I was/am employed, when so many others weren't/aren't. I got to spend time with my 90+ year old grandma! This summer I took salsa & pilates classes, and sucked @ both, but I tried them nonetheless. I sucked @ salsa because of the auditory issues I have. And I sucked @ pilates because of the auditory & because big boobs don't really work with pilates. I saw some wonderful films, engaging exhibits, and crazy ass people in the NYC parks! I also spent a lot of time, too much even, in contemplation.

On January 1st actually, I finally sat down to write my letter to myself. After I completed the letter, it became clear that a theme had emerged. The theme was trust. Trust is an ever present theme in my life it seems. Jobs have been quit, due to lack of trust. Lovers cut off after being deemed untrustworthy. Friendships have ended after feelings of mistrust emerged. And I've even ended communication with relatives for whom trust and honesty seemed to be foreign concepts. The bottom line is that, I really need to work on my 'trust issues' in 2010.

This year I pledge to trust my intuition. There's this saying that goes, "believe them the first time they reveal themselves to you." I know it's true, and yet, I make excuses and dismiss that initial inner voice that says, "let them go!" This year I vow to use my intuition to guide me through new exploits, new relationships, and new locales. I've promised to trust myself and return to my 'One Bold Act a Month' rule. Having this in effect again, should make for a very entertaining year! I've also pledged to trust people who've earned my trust. Letting Shakespeare's words guide me, I take an oath to, "Love all, trust a few, and do wrong to none." Most importantly, I've promised to make myself a priority! Ok this is that last flowery quote I'll use tonight, in this entry anyway. In 2010, I promise to, "Live like there is no tomorrow, sing as if no one can hear, love like I've never been hurt, and dance as if no one is watching!" Perhaps you'll consider doing the same, it'll definitely make for a helluva year if you do!

Until.

2009-02-03T00:40:00.006-05:00

Just about two weeks ago I was forced to see something that I'd been successfully (or unsuccessfully) ignoring for sometime now. In the midst of a mini meltdown (full tears & ranting & all), I was forced to see my reflection. At the moment I'm not trying to be philosophical at all. I really do mean that someone made me see myself.

Being emotionally thrashed for the umpteenth time, I boarded an elevator. Replaying all the times before, when I'd been in the same situation, feeling the same way, again angry with myself for AGAIN forgetting or ignoring all those other times and setting myself up once again. I cursed me for being stupid, and for forgiving, and for analyzing, and making excuses, believing, trusting & most of all loving. How did I eff-up again, and end up dealing with this shit AGAIN???? Was I addicted to this feeling? Did I secretly crave pain & rejection? Was I trying to build up my writer's street cred? Or was this my self-imposed punishment for my sins of the past? "What was I thinking?" I cried, again.

Silently and simultaneously, crying & cursing myself, I tried to direct my escape from my latest emotional fuck-up. In a sliver of a second, I exited my own internal drama and heard someone else's on display. As a transplanted New Yorker, I've now abandoned my mid-western roots of responding to random strangers' rants, ravings and issues on the street. I've learned that for the most part, you mind your business. You'd be surprised what you can ignore on the streets or subway, once you've been trained by the lunatics!

Anyway, as I put a pause on my own mini-drama, I noticed this girl, probably early 20's across from me on the elevator. She was on when I got on, which I thought was strange because there are only two floors. I noticed she was intentionally facing the back of the elevator wall & crying. As I entered I remember thinking, "why is she here & not getting off?" Not my business! I got on and back to my meltdown. Her tears and whimpering interrupted my thoughts.

Without thinking, probably compelled by an extreme case of PMS & an emotional break, I asked was she alright? Strangely, in NYC, that simple question can bring all sorts of inappropriate or uncomfortable responses. Not this time though. She told me that she was waiting for her Ex-boyfriend who was supposed to pick her up. She said that she'd told him that she was there waiting and that he'd said that he was on his way, but that she was still waiting. And then she let out another cry again, almost out of exhaustion. She then thanked me for asking, and seemed too relieved to say out loud how she was feeling. At that point I wanted to cry too. I told her I was sorry & that I hoped things worked out. What ever that means. She thanked me once again, and I exited the elevator that I'd been holding open as we talked.

Taking the escalator to the next level, I was startled by what had just happened. That girl was me (10 years ago). I'd been in that same stupid situation 200 times in the past 10 years or so. There she was trusting (depending on) someone, she already knew she couldn't or shouldn't count on, trust-LOVE. I mean, he was her Ex-boyfriend, and there she was AGAIN, trusting him to come through for her, when he couldn't before on at least one occasion, that's why he was an Ex.

At 34, I should know better. And I did, but again I'd done it anyway. During my long journey home I tried to sort through everything. The only resolution I could come to was that I needed some sort of rehabilitation program. I needed something to help me move past all of this. I just wanted it to be over! I've looked with other heartaches and breaks, there is no clinic for getting off love! An no amount of chocolate, sex or wine makes an of the pain any easier.

Whenever I think of heartbreak I'm reminded of one of my favorite lines from Memoirs of a Geisha, "The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves. Until one day there are none." I feel like the only way to get past THIS, is to let it die and hope that something new can grow there again one day. Since the leaves aren't falling fast enough for me I'm doing my best to snatch them off the branch! Hopefully, lots of sad music and an iPod help speed up the process.

Until.

2008-07-24T19:23:00.005-04:00

Long time no write!

It has been a while since I published, so please forgive.

Well, a lot has happened!

I moved . . . and would you believe I left NYC! Well, not really . . . I’m in Brooklyn. But some days it feels like a far off land! Nothing like my old stomping grounds of Manhattan.

Although I must admit that while I have relocated to BK- the borough of Kings—the thoroughest borough—I still have not made it my own.

I don’t have a church (yea I go . . . sometimes). Haven’t found a drycleaner/Laundromat (well to be honest, the new digs are so nice I don’t really need one. We’ve got laundry in the building.) Ha!

Anyway, no favorite local grocery store, shoe store, vet, Banana Republic, nail salon or pharmacy. I haven’t even found a restaurant to deliver my evening meals (well that might be a good thing).

I must confess that I’ve been two timing my new borough . . .

Every free minute I get I’m running back to Manhattan like Bobby to Whitney! Every Saturday I wake up early, pack the pocket pooch up, grab my canvas shopping bags and take the L train to Union Square. From there I gather the goods I need to get—as if I live in some rural area and am traveling into town to stop at the “General Store!”

Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, the Farmer’s Market, Petco, Banana, Gap, DSW, my vet, it doesn’t matter—I can find them all on the Island! And most around 14th Street!

I’m also frustrated that the two trains that run by my house take me nowhere in my borough. I’m practically being forced to escape to the Island. The closest real park, Prospect Park, is like two bus rides away!

Believe me—my dog was pissed off the first time we did that nonsense. Once we finally got there (and met my friend) it was like 10,000 damn dogs there! I thought it was the Dachshund Fest in Washington Square Park there were so many dogs & folks. My friend encouraged my pup to “hurry up and play” because he warned that we would soon be flooded by a sea of baby strollers. Sure enough, as 9am hit (off leash hours ending), there began a parade of Bugaboos & Maclarens. The next time we tried it—same thing!!

Central Park never seems that chaotic. Except the 2nd Sunday of June, maybe.

It also pisses me off that I can’t catch a cab to or from my crib. I’m use to stepping out my front door on Lexington Ave. and hailing a cab all hours of the day and night. Nope, not here. Finding a yellow cab here is like playing Where’s Waldo! If you do find one they still won’t stop. Sadly, I must lie to get one to take me home. Well I can’t even get one to take me home from the Island. They just say, “NO!” But from downtown Brooklyn, I must lie about what neighborhood I really live in and give extremely vague directions to get a ride home. How sad.

I don’t wanna sound like a complainer or anything. I must say living in Brooklyn has its privileges! The Brooklyn Promenade is fantastic! I’m a limited bus ride away from my new school. A bus ride and mini walk from Tar’get! Ikea is now a bus ride or two away. FreshDirect delivers here. I’ve got a backyard!! My apartment is HUGE. I’ve got a walk-in closet and I finally have a bedroom door! And best of all, it’s cheaper than my old place!

Now that I think of it, Brooklyn ROCKS!

Until.

2007-05-25T20:15:00.000-04:00

I hope this message finds you well!

I’ve been in a self induced Ben Harper/Mary J/My Life coma for a few weeks now. Please excuse my absence. You know there are times when there are no solutions, only more dilemmas that come to light. Since my recent hiatus, as always, I’ve had an epiphany or two! Hey I wouldn’t be crazy, thinking, feeling, impulsive me if I didn’t. Now would I? Anyway, a few weeks ago I was blessed enough to see one of my closest friends marry in her words, her “best friend.” As a person who, for some time, has struggled to figure out what love is, I got a step closer to figuring it out because I got to see it on Saturday, May 12th, in a chapel in the woods! And I am forever, changed.

Since the dawn of modern man, people have been trying to sort this Love shit out. And with little to no success, I might add! There are so many efffin stories about what love feels like and how it should work, and how it sneaks up on you, and a bunch of other crap that I don’t wanna hear. Anyway, I know one thing, thanks to my brave friend & her nu hubbie; I know what it looks like. Love is easy. It’s comfortable. Love is infectious. And it is forgiving. Love is about laughing at the dumb stuff that you do (together). Love is never having to wonder, because you already know, or are soon filled in. Love is running together and giving each other hi5’s as you past one another, in a race back to the house. It’s taking a canoe ride together, while you hope your crazy dog won’t jump out the boat. Love is knowing that you’ve found the person you want to grow old with. Love is being brave enough to tell your best friend that you’re a better person because they are in your life. And Love can be seamless and effortless, when it’s right.

Anyway, all my pontificating on identifying love aside, I’m now on a quest to “Be Happy.” I know I’ve said this before, but it’s true. I mean, I meant it before too, but I really mean it this time! I’m in need of a Spring/Summer life house-cleaning. Don’t know where any of this will lead, but I know I don’t wanna be a dark, brooding, New Yorker for one more minute! I’m from the Midwest dammit!! I’m supposed to be (& use to be) happy!!! And since I can’t be happy there (the Midwest), I’ll make my happiness right here in the NYC! Even if it kills me, I’m gonna be happy.

Until.

2007-04-07T23:27:00.000-04:00

Some things happen divinely! I came across this & thought I’d share. Words that I’m trying to live by!!

“For a long time it seemed to me that life was about to begin—real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one. Happiness is a journey, not a destination. . .” –Fr. Alfred D’Souza

2007-03-31T23:47:00.000-04:00

It’s been a long month! I must say, March almost kicked my ass! Quick update: tried Yoga again w/ different instructor @ different place. It’s not for me. Random info: its official, my nu favorite artist is Amy Winehouse! She seems to be mixed with the right kind of crazy—similar to me! If you get the chance, buy her CD—you won’t regret it!

Anyway, on to the chaos that is my life. As you know, I’m all about introspection and epiphanies. I’m always searching for some deeper meaning behind each word, action, or occurrence (and even thought). I guess that’s why I spent 3 years as a Psych major? Anyway, after an incident or two recently, I’ve created a Manifesto (of sorts) for myself. I know it’s crazy! So what? It was a long ass month. Just humor me and read it!!!

It’s official! As of this day, I am officially (since its official) done with the following things:

I’m done with jobs that I hate. Spending all day with people I can’t stand. Leisure activities that feel more like a full time job. In particular, Yoga. Rude people. Stupid men. Long lines. Bitchy customer service reps. Boring dates—why bother, just go home. Stupid men. Loud neighbors. Washing dishes. Closet apartments. Cloudy days. Stupid men. Vacationing in “The City” who am I kidding, I need to escape NYC! Malicious friends. Ignorant people. Sunday evenings—because it means that Monday and work are on the way. Summer, because it’s not long enough! And Winter because it comes too soon! Stupid men. Transparent people. Crowded trains. Grumpy people—that shit is contagious! Keep it to yourself! Cold nights. First kisses, because there are far too few that really count anymore! Soup—to be honest I always hated it. Why not add it to THE LIST? Bad liars. Stupid men. Objectification. Discrimination. Assumptions. Generalizations. Compromising. Failure. Stupid men. Fairy Tales. Weak minds. Call waiting-its starting to get on my nerves. Carry out—but I hate cooking too, so I guess its here to stay! Pretending to like people. Simple minds. Waiting for them to get theirs. And what’s going around to come back around to those people. Trying to be a psychic. Vicious dogs. Dairy—I’m lying. I’m an addict! Bad movies. Stupid men. And ironically enough complaining!?!?

Until.

2007-02-08T23:20:00.000-05:00

Why must my life be so damn ridiculous? Why I ask? Why?

Well, like most New Yorkers I’m on this new kick to become enlightened/destress/get healthy/occupy my free time—what ever! So, I decided to begin with Yoga! I’ve had a membership to a gym (one of the best in the city I hear) for over a year—and have never used it! I know it’s shameful, but I’m trying to be better, since I’m now living my 32nd year of life! Anyway, I sign up for this into to yoga class. I buy my mat. Got my cute and comfortable yoga pants. And I finally make it into that building, ready to “get my yoga on!”

As soon as this class begins, immediately I sense trouble!! As she turns the lights off and turns on soft music, she wants to clarify that this is an Intro to Yoga Class. “Yes!” We agree. Then she walks ten feet away (other side of the room) and gets on the floor and starts running off a grocery list full of directions. Okay. I’ll share. I have an auditory processing disorder. That means that I can hear, but it takes my mind a little bit of time to sort out the information and understand what I’m hearing. As a result of my auditory processing disorder, I have difficulty following (understanding) multi-step directions. My brain just don’t work that way! I’ve been living with this for years and have developed a few survival techniques that get me by. This is why I’m a master at lip reading!

Anyway, lip reading may be difficult tonight, since I have to take my glasses off so I don’t break them. As this chick is across the room, on the floor, in the dark speaking at warp speed I’m trying my damnedest to follow! I can’t read or understand a word that this woman is saying! I’m stretching and bending and trying to keep up. But I can’t understand shit she’s saying, so I’m trying to watch what everybody else is doing, and then do that. The only problem with this method is that, in yoga, you don’t just face ONE direction! So, I’m facing and trying to keep up, when all of a sudden, it becomes apparent to me that everybody’s now facing in my direction! This means that I should now be facing the wall next to me, and not the class! Damnit! I turn quickly. Just then (and just 10 minutes into the class, mind you), a tall lean man walks by carrying his shoes and yoga mat, and exits the door and class! Okay. He’s done.

Ooohhhmmmm!!

I’m still trying though. After a few minutes of facing the wall, I figure I should turn to see what “we’re” doing now. Okay. Now my body should be flat on the mat? Face flat too? Okay. Again, I can’t see what we’re doing. Oh! Up again! Now I’m what? What? Put my feet where? I don’t think I’m made for doing that. I mean I could try, but maybe after a drink or something! For the next 20 minutes or so I continue to struggle to follow this damn class, which seemed like such a great idea just a few hours ago. In the meantime, two more people (both women) collect their belongings-shoes, coats, and mats, then leave—mid downward facing dog!!

Ooohhhmmmm!!

Our “instructor” doesn’t even pause as these people walk past her. She doesn’t even look in their direction. Did I mention to you that as she’s running off these directions she’s throwing in all sorts of yoga jargon-as if we beginners know what the hell she’s talking about! Right now I’m feeling like I’m back at my freshman year of college. My first into to philosophy or into to psych class! You remember those weeder courses! They were designed to be extremely difficult, just to “weed out” the weaker students so that they would drop the course. First few days of ‘em, I didn’t know what the hell was going on! I’m back at that place now. Was there some required reading that I was supposed to do before I got here? Cause I don’t know what the hell she is talking about! Every few moves (that I’m still unable to follow) she throws in some more Yoganese! I have no idea what this woman is saying!!!!

Ooohhhmmmm!!

Time is passing. And I’m pissed!! Omy! Obviously, so is this fourth woman who walks past me out the door with her coat and gym bag w/yoga mat in hand! What the hell is going on? I should leave now too! But damnit, my shoes are across the room (why didn’t I keep them next to me) and I would disturb that woman who probably thinks I’m attracted to her, since I’ve been staring at her since this class began. Without my glasses on I can barely see anything, so I’ve just been trying to watch the woman in front of me to see what she does. On more than one occasion, when I should have been facing the back wall with my head between my legs, or pretzeled to my left, that woman found me staring at her. I know she thinks I want her. Sorry, wrong! I just want to know what the hell is going on. She has no idea I’m just using her as an illustration, since our “instructor” doesn’t give a damn! Okay. I’m a teacher, and I know a bad teacher when I see one! This chick is a horrible teacher!!! She may be good at her craft, but she’s lousy at teaching it!!! She has to know that half of this group is barely keeping up, if at all!

For the last 5 or 10 minutes of the class, she has us laying completely flat on our mats, in the dark just focusing on our breathing.

Finally, class over! I’m so pissed off! I gather my shoes and mat and head for the elevator. I get on w/ two other women who were in the class. As the elevator door closes, taking us up to the locker room, the young one says. “I’m pissed! This wasn’t a Into to Yoga Class! This was way too hard!” The older lady shakes her head in agreement. “I thought it was just me!” I say to them. “Nope!” They both respond. The young one says, “I wanted to walk out mid class. I should have!”

This night, others share in my ridiculousness! I am not alone! I feel slightly better as I walk home, a little looser, but still pissed off. Will I go back next week? Hell to the no!

Ooohhhmmmm!!

2007-01-11T02:25:00.000-05:00

So my upstairs neighbors are definitely trying to run me out of my apartment of almost 5 years!!! They have “accidentally” flooded my apt. via the ceiling twice in one year, causing major water damage. The most recent time, they even managed to soak half of my sofa!! Jack Asses! These are grown ass men! Who the hell, forgets and leaves the shower running or the h2o in the kitchen sink running??? Who does that? Apparently these asses do. But wait, this isn’t the worst of their infractions! For the past two months (and I’ll remind you they’ve been here for almost a year) someone up there has been sitting in that effin apartment smoking cigarettes all damn day & night!!! By the time I get home my crib smells like a damn saloon! I can’t effin breath; I gotta keep my windows open to get fresh air, burn candles and spray Febreeze! And I HATE the smell of cigarettes, DAMN IT! They are also the loudest effin people ever—at the most inopportune times!! At like 3 or 4 in the effin AM they’re loud as hell, with all types of floor traffic, furniture moving, and sex sounds! I swear, I think they make pornos up there! Did I mention that my Uggs were stolen just a month or so after they moved in (check last March’s posts)? I know they had something to do with it! I am so sure that this is a conspiracy against me. I don’t really know why they’d wanna run me outta here but they are definitely effin with me!

I’m wondering is this the sign I’ve been waiting for to tell me its time to move? I mean, I’ve been saying since I got here I needed more space. I mean I live in a box. I’m not complaining, don’t get me wrong, some people don’t have a box of their own (see last post). I just know that I would enjoy having a bit more space in my daily life. Since I don’t have a lot of it at home it seems that I’m always on this quest to enjoy it while I’m not at the crib. I’ve taken some serious steps to try to acquire “personal space,” including sneezing and coughing, falling asleep and ignoring people. I’m sorry! I admit it. I was wrong and am ashamed! I blame it all on my lunatic neighbors though (who happen to be filming right now! As I type! With their Loud ASSES!)! It’s all their fault!

Anyway, speaking of space, about a month ago I read an article in the New York Times about personal space. It was talking about City Dwellers being on this never ending quest for more space. Subway rides, conversations, bathroom stalls, post office lines, and park benches are just a few places that people (especially New Yorkers are demanding more personal space—and room to breathe. This hit very close to home since, I’ve been on a mission for a few months now for the perfect seat on the Metro North (the commuter train that I use daily-for non NYC area folks). For me, the perfect seat for me would mean, personal space—no elbow to elbow or knee to knee touching, nobody in my face, and maybe a window. I’m really not asking for much! Anyway, each day I hop on grab my seat, and hope that no space invader will soon come and attempt to violate me with their personal cell conversation, morning breath, body weight, or just overall annoying ass! Please don’t get me wrong! I don’t want you to think that I don’t like people or something. (Well! To be honest, some days I don’t!) To borrow from one of my favorite shows still, “People are the worst!” I know that makes me sound miserable. So what? It’s nothing I can do about it. It’s the truth!! Some days I just don’t like people. Some days I’d prefer to just be left alone—in my own space, in my own skin. But you know it never happens that way! Those are the days when every lunatic in every effin borough & surrounding county seems to have it out for you!

Prime example, last winter, I’m on the train on my way to work (a job which I later quit-long story, for another post), not feeling the best about my day ahead, and not looking forward to the lunatic adults that I was getting ready to have to deal with. So the train is packed, it’s rush hour of course, but luckily I find one seat! One stop after I get on this chemically impaired woman gets on the train after physically pushing this woman out of the way that was trying to exit the train. She’s yelling and cussing, enough that this lunatic held up the train for about a minute because she’s kicking and yelling out the door. The door finally closes and where does she decide to stand? In front of me of course! She’s yelling at everybody and cussing, she’s a big mess! Then she begins to kick her left leg up in the air like the Karate Kid, twirling around holding on to the pole in the floor. By now most people have moved as far away from her as possible. Not me though. She twirls in my direction and kicks her leg up in the air again just to the right of me. I’m thinking now, “Ok. So this is the morning I get arrested, and end up as the headline “Crazed Teacher Got Tuff on Subway!” Because that’s what the papers here love to do.) I just knew this lunatic (one of my favorite words by the way) was going to f-ck with me! I was so ready. I guess the anger was evident in my face (brought on by my day job) must’ve had my maniac stare on, cause I looked her dead in the eye and she didn’t kick me. Maybe she thought I was as crazy as she was (maybe I was that morning). I probably looked like it, because a few people’s faces seemed to light up at the prospect of her kicking me in the face—I think they knew I would go off, and were waiting to see a subway rumble, and for me too to become a lunatic! Anyway, as the doors finally opened at my stop, she begins to kick her legs up repeatedly while spinning around in a circle, as if she’s fighting off a posse of ninjas. Well I figured I’d tempted fate enough that morning, and decided to follow the rest of the crowd and walk around the lunatic to the other end of the train and exit. I avoided that lunatic trap, but would later get snatched up in another a the J-O-B!

That’s the thing about NYC, it has a plethora of lunatics; there is surely no shortage of crazies here! And as each day goes by in this city, I come closer to joining the bunch!

“Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!”

Until.

2006-12-30T00:03:00.000-05:00

Okay, it’s official—forget year of The Dog—2006 was year of The Crazy! And I must say, I’m kinda glad it’s ending soon. December was no exception, this month I had a revelation, reached a milestone, and was propositioned! It was a busy month people!!

Let me begin, earlier this month a man that I was acquainted with also known as Central Park Guy (see earlier entries!!) made a request of me. He began by stating that He’d never felt so close to someone yet, so far from them at the same time. He then asked me if I knew that everything he’d ever asked me I’d told him “NO.” My response was, “Thank you for pointing that out.” Well from there he went on to explain that he didn’t feel comfortable asking but he had to ask me something. He then wanted me to agree to do him a favor. I quickly told him I don’t agree to anything without knowing what it was first. So long story short he explains that something happened and he “can’t go home anymore.” “BLAH. BLAH. BLAH. Could I stay with you if I needed to?” Immediately I’m shocked! Not that I’m shocked by the question, because I’ve heard it a few times before (I guess I’m better than the Double Tree-who knows?) Anyway, but I’m shocked by the person that is now making this request. I mean, Dude! I haven’t even invited you over to break a bread stick! You don’t even have my address. Do you actually think I’ll let you escape whatever drama you’ve got going on in your life, by hiding out in mine? HELL NO! I’m sorry I do feel for you being in that predicament but I just can’t possibly consider it. So politely I tell him, “I just don’t feel comfortable with that.” Believe it or not, he actually seemed to be offended that I said I didn’t feel comfortable with him—a stranger, staying in my home. Long story shorter, he told me he’d probably have to sleep in his car, wished me a good night, and then hung up. I haven’t spoken to him since.

Why me? By the way, that was the proposition portion of my month.

A few weeks ago I celebrated my 32nd birthday. Its official, I’m old. I have fallen off the calendar. If you check any calendar closely, you will see that the #32 appears no where on there. Some kind soul was sweet enough to point that out to me last year, as I celebrated living my last year on the calendar! I thank them for that. Anyway, for me 32 feels exactly like 31, which feels like 28, which feels like 25, which feels like 22. 21 felt different though. Maybe 21 felt different because it was when I became a real adult. I dunno. Anyway, I’m still waiting for the arrival of my cathartic moment ushered in by one milestone or another. So far, no luck. I keep hoping though. Anyway, 32 came and went silently, with no celebrations. I just wasn’t in the mood this year. I have high hopes for next year though. Maybe the arrival of 33 will be different?

So that’s the milestone.

Alas, the revelation! Well as each year ends, I try to reflect on the year that passed and set some goals for the year ahead. I don’t call them resolutions—I don’t like that word. Besides that I tend to write my goals in the form of a letter to myself that I open and read on New Year’s Eve. Anyway, I sat and reflected on 2006. The blood, sweats, and tears that made up this year. This wasn’t my worst year that would have to be 2002— by a landslide. But this year meant a lot of growing pains—personally, professionally, and financially. I been broke, hurt and jobless—all on the same day even. It was not pretty.

But I remember the words of a wise old cabbie that drove me home one night early in the year, completely unprovoked he said to me, “Life’s too short to work somewhere you hate. Trust me young lady. Life’s too short.” I knew that. It wasn’t a secret to me. I just needed an outside voice to remind me of that. It wasn’t too long after that that I quit my job. I wasn’t exactly sure what was in store for me, but at least I wasn’t there, in the midst of that daily chaos and unhappiness. Anyway, I learned and I grew. Each day I prayed that, “the lesson and the blessing be revealed in the challenge.”

I started to think that somebody had it out for me. I started to believe that any dream that I had was surely doomed! I started to feel like my decisions were flawed and my dreams and desires were cursed! I was sure the happiness fairy had it out for me! Maybe I’d pissed them off when I was a kid and failed to put my teeth under my pillow so their cousin The Tooth Fairy could pick them up and cash them in? I didn’t mean to! I just kept my teeth, or lost them! My parents never reminded me to do that, damn them!! Now it’s come back on me!

Since those thoughts earlier this year, I’ve come to realize that nobody has it out for me. I’d forgotten my own mantra! It goes, “Life’s a journey, not a destination!” I kept expecting the end. The end of wondering, of sadness, of doubt, of fear. I’ve realized that that never happens. I take that back. It happens when you die. In the meantime, life if a long process. It’s a series of celebrations, and smiles, failures, and tears, revelations, and conundrums. Life’s a series of loves and losses, births, and deaths, beginnings and endings. Life is about constantly revealing itself. Life is about the meantime. It’s about everything in the middle, the process. Life is not about the end result. It’s everything up to that point.

As I look forward to the coming of 2007 (just hours away), I look forward to more. More tears, more laughs, more successes, more failures, more loves, more losses, more jobs, more meetings, more greetings, more adventures, more arguments, more of me. Bottom line, I look forward to the journey in 2007!

Many blessing to you in the year to come!

Until.

2006-11-26T12:42:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine pointed out that I tend to be able to find any life connection to SATC. Okay, I admit it. She’s right. I confess. When I’m feeling low, and lost, and a little dejected—especially when it comes to relationships (or relations), I pull out one of my SATC dvds or select an episode to view on HBO OnDemand! Believe me, there’s a method to my madness! There’s never been a better relationship guide for women.

SATC is like the I Ching for women old enough to pay their own rent. Its like that scene in You’ve Got Mail (which I LOVE, bytheway) when after Meg Ryan hears two different men quote The Godfather (another staple in my life—I own the box set, thank you), when giving her advice, she asks, “What’s with men and ‘The Godfather’?” Tom Hanks’ response, “The Godfather is like the I Ching. The Godfather is the sum of all wisdom. The Godfather is the answer to any question. What do should I pack for my summer vacation? ‘Leave the gun, take the cannoli.’ What day of the week is it? ‘Maunday, Tuesday, Thursday, Wednesday.’”

Anyway, I had a conversation this week with a friend of mine about relationships—what a surprise! As usual, I would have to I call on my I Ching for wisdom. We discussed how it seems that some people live these wonderful lives of nothing but happiness, while others of us seem to know only chaos and pain. I reminded her that we should never compare ourselves to anyone else, because we don’t know what their journey is about. I freely admit that I’ve had a moment or two when I’ve wondered what I’d done to deserve the inextricable heartache—or heartbreak that I was drowning in. Why didn’t I deserve to be happy? I remember a few years ago a friend of mine told me, “it was never meant to work with any of those guys—that’s why it didn’t. That’s why it came to an end—for no other reason. None of them was your soulmate.” She said with confidence.

There’s that word again, soulmate! I swear it haunts me. Sometimes I believe it to be an illusive, but tangible figure who’s just around the corner. Then there are times when I’m sure that this soulmate person is just an urban legend! I’ve thought for a moment (as my friend confided she’s also), considered lowering a standard or two, believing that maybe we’d set them too him for any real man to reach. Back to my conversation this week. My friend told me that an Ex of hers recently looked her up (after a few years, some cheating, and mad drama). He told her that he thought he’d made a mistake (when he screwed her over), and that he didn’t feel like his wife was his soulmate.

What? Why do we even have to hear crap like that? What’s the purpose? Should my friend now be questioning if this cheater is her soulmate? Or should she just let it go? Maybe that moment has passed. I wasn’t much help with this topic, I’ve got issues of my own! All I know is I can count the number of happy couples I know on one hand. By happy I mean a relationship that appears (from the outside world) to be one of pure love and reciprocity. I can also think of an abundance of couples that seem way out of balance, really not for me. From the outside, I see compromises that I wouldn’t be comfortable making in my relationship—but who am I to judge.

My friend & I both agreed that what works for some doesn’t work for others. Maybe Carrie said it best when she said, “When it comes to relationships, maybe we're all in glass houses, and shouldn't throw stones. Because you can never really know. Some people are settling down, some are settling and some people refuse to settle for anything less. Than butterflies...”

I’ve always adored the butterfly.

Until.

2006-11-18T14:15:00.000-05:00

I think of the SATC episode when in an attempt to salvage their relationship which hangs on by a mere thread, Carrie and Burger have made up this thing they call their Hollywood kiss. He’s supposed to grab her and throw her back off her feet in a deep passionate “old Hollywood” movie kiss. This movie moment-is the “bit” they do when they’re being “pissy” with each other.

We could all use some magic movie moments in our lives from time to time. I can remember the beginning of a relationship that began like a scene from a romantic comedy, it ended—like something else (but that’s another post for another day)!

Anyway, picture this, it’s a fall day—lots of colorful leaves on the ground and trees. The ground is damp, because it rained the night before. It’s about 10am and I’m walking through Central Park (hey, I just realized I’ve met a few men there—anyway). It’s a weekday—but I didn’t go in to work that day—had some drama w/my truck so I’m on my way home after handling that. Not my cutest day, but I’m dressed in jeans, a hoodie, and my down vest, but my hair is cute—just coincidence though. Anyway, I’m headed home when a tall, chocolate, muscular man with dreads passes. I must confess I have an affinity for this type of man. So of course, he catches my eye and we exchange “goodmornings” as we pass. But since he was so damn cute (and had perfect white teeth), I look back after I pass him and low and behold, he’s looking back at me!!! With a smile, he asks if he could speak to me for a moment, then walks over to me after my coy response, “sure.” He goes on to say that I was “very pretty” and that, “something about your spirit caught me this morning.” Nice right? Yea, well, long story short, after a few more minutes he had the digits. That was a nice day. We even had a movie-like first date at The Bronx Zoo. Anyway, I say all this to say that moments like this are pleasant; they make us feel good, even if they are only temporary.

There are also those movie moments which aren’t so nice, but they still happen to us all the same. It’s the times when, if life was really like a movie, dark and twisted music would play, as a signal that change has arrived. It’s the Aha! moment when the tragic heroine or flawed protagonist looks at this other character, and for the first time, she really sees him as he is. She wasn’t blind before—this isn’t a Helen Keller movie. She’d just convinced herself that things weren’t as they always seemed. She found reasons to explain why he’d done things that he’d done. At this juncture in the film she realizes that, at that moment, he isn’t who she needs him to be. She’s known him for years—but then finally sees him and his intentions with clarity for the first time. She doesn’t blame him though. And she no longer has the strength to be angry, but she’s an ounce wiser thanks to her pain. In the next scene we’d hope that the flawed protagonist gets to walk away before her tears become apparent to this man. Don’t get confused. This character, this man, isn’t the antagonist (or antihero, who wants to bring about the destruction of the protagonist or her wants), although she may feel that at this moment. This man is just a character, like many, in the story of her life.

How many of us are really the protagonist in our own life stories? Are we really the main character in the story of our lives, or are we just extras? How often are we really advocating for our own happiness? Are we really using every occasion to live our best lives? Are we taking opportunities to extend that movie moment, and make it into that happy ending we know we deserve? Or are we playing the role of antagonist in our own lives? Are we constantly in opposition of what we want and deserve? I’ve realized that if you’re leading/living a life of fiction, you can be both the protagonist and antagonist in the story of your life.

Just my thoughts.

Until.

2006-11-12T03:10:00.000-05:00

A few days ago, I heard from a friend that I hadn’t spoken to in quite a few months. I had my own suspicions as to what was going on, but that’s me, and it’s cause I know her. It was a conversation long overdue, for both of us. But in the end, it felt good to catch up with my sister, who’d been absent for a while. Sometimes we need that.

As I spoke to my friend I thought of all the transitions that we’d been through (together), as friends. We (my small group of compadres) have supported each other during some shit, for real! We’ve been there through terminal illnesses, pregnancies, academic accomplishments, career failures. We’ve buried-children, parents, siblings and friends. We’ve nursed parents; we’ve been married and divorced, dealt with issues of mental health and physical impairments. We’ve dealt with legal woes and empty pockets. We’ve met new loves and tended to broken hearts-all the while, together.

I’m reminded of the episode of SATC when it’s the question of Soulmates. It’s Carrie’s 35th birthday and due to a series of mishaps everyone who was invited for her birthday dinner turns out to be extremely late—leaving Carrie to sit at the table alone (a table for 10) for quite sometime, until she decides to leave, after having to pay for her own birthday cake. Later with the girls (and a few tears later), “Carrie admits that while she was sitting alone at the table, she felt sad that she was 35 and had no special man in her life.” Recognizing that so many times it’s our girlfriends that carry us through when we feel as though we can’t even crawl, Charlotte offers support by suggesting that they be each other’s soulmates, and that men could just be in their lives for fun.

I can recall a birthday (or 2) when I’ve had that Carrie moment. When the absence of those I deemed as important made me feel as though I was alone, without anyone who loved me—or who would miss me. Hell, I can recall an average day, when I’ve had that Carrie moment, even recently.

We all know the importance of our “girl council” they know us best and have seen us at our worst, that’s why they can call the outcome of a “relationship” long before the first argument or kiss. It’s the reason we often avoid them, when things seem to be going well (it’s that fear of the truth in our face). It’s also the reason we make our nu mates available to them when we want it to be right—we know they’ll identify the makings or demise of our relationships. Even though the decisions are ultimately ours, what they think (whether we decide to take their advice at the moment or not) weighs heavily upon us.

I think of what a friend said after meeting a potential suitor (or at least in her eyes) of mine—“He plays well with others. You can take him out and he won’t embarrass you. And we all like him.” Although that didn’t necessarily translate into the green light for him, it definitely made me reevaluate my relationship with him—I could see the possibilities. And sometimes, it’s the possibilities that keep us afloat.

The saying goes, “heartbreak is life educating us.” As we know, it’s been our girlfriends that have extricated us from our misery when the lessons have been particularly hard.

To my girls, my sisters, I say, thank you!

Until.

2006-10-29T01:15:00.000-05:00

There's this great movie that came out around 1992 called Singles, about a bunch of single people who live in this apartment complex in Seattle. Bridget Fonda (who is so underrated, and rarely seen by the way) plays this woman in love with this grunge guy who really could care less. She gets into this "relationship" with him, that’s clearly not meant to last. It’s all about him the whole time and she's just trying to find ways to convince him that he should love her back, or trick him into showing he cares. He isn't intentionally callous, but he is because he can be. Her one wish (which would indicate that he's not selfish and that he loves her) is that he would tell her “bless you” after she sneezes. Throughout their relationship, of course he never does. In the end, just as she's completely over him, and he's seen what a great effin catch she was, they're randomly on an elevator and she sneezes and he says, "bless you." Well she’s kinda caught off guard but after she realizes that he said “bless you,” she jumps in his arms and kisses him.

We all have personal indicators or tests that we use to gauge the potential or intentions of our new suitors. The sneeze was hers. Well I’ve got a few indicators that I use as well. I’ve also got some life rules that I live by, which take my indicators to another level. One recent suitor has reached the end of the line at the intersection of one of my indicators and personal life rules. Anyway, twice I invited this guy to meet me for a meal (once lunch, and the other dinner). Side note, the meal invitation was not easy for me at all. I have a rule that I don’t eat with people I don’t like. I don’t eat with anyone—man, woman or child that I don’t like (it defeats the purpose of eating). Unfortunately, u aren’t always able to predict the outcome of a meal. Sometimes, half way through conversation and a meal, some people can become very unattractive and move themselves to the NO EAT WITH list. I try my best to identify those potential folks before the meal (they only get invites for tea or coffee), but a few do get by. As soon as they move to that list, I automatically become “full, and can eat or drink no more.”

Anyway, I digress, back to me inviting “the guy” for the meal—TWICE! Each time he said that was a great idea but he just wasn’t that hungry at the time. But he said he was up for hanging out at my crib though. (Yea, right!) Whatever!! Let me get this straight. You’re not interested in sharing a meal with me but you want to come over to my home and kick it? I don’t think so. Strike ONE! I have an indicator that I use to weed folks out with, if I mention that I’m sick or not feeling well and you must show at least an ounce of concern—by asking if you can do anything, or bring me anything, or just calling to check up on me. If you don’t, that’s a clear indicator to me that you really aren’t concerned about me or my welfare at all.

Scene two, “the guy” calls and mentions that he wants to come and see me, and then asks what I’m doing. I reply that I’m in bed with the flu. He then replies, “Oh. Then I’ll talk to you later.” He then hangs up. As if this wasn’t indication enough of his intentions, 5 days later he calls (still in the midst of my flu). “Hey. I wanna see you. I wanna spend some time with you. But I’m tired tonight; I just picked my cousin up from the airport. What are you up to?” I must remind you that all of that was after I said, “hello?” That’s it. My reply, “In bed with the flu.” “Still?” “Yep,” my response. “Alright then. I’ll talk to you later.” And then he hangs up. Do you believe that? Well, needless to say, that was strike #2, and he’s out! There are only two balls in my game.

This whole situation reminds me of the episode of SATC when Samantha has a party at her new place and tells the girls that they have it all, great friends, good jobs, and plenty of sex! She really believed this to be true until she gets a horrible case of the flu (is there really any other kind though) and she can’t even pay a man to come and take care of her. After Carrie finally arrives, well into the insanity that only the flu can bring, she breaks down in tears, at the realization that “having it all” means nothing when there’s nobody there when you need them.

I had a Samantha moment this week.

Until.

2006-10-19T02:40:00.000-04:00

Ok. So I'm standing and waiting to meet CPK Guy for an impromptu meet-up in Manhattan (he lives in BK). Its such a long story as to why I'd been avoiding him in the first place, but I figured an afternoon mtg. in public couldn't hurt. Maybe I was wrong. Anyway, this is a good looking guy. He's tall, football player body (but not a thick neck body-a nice muscular one), gorgeous eyes, straight white teeth, and a great smile, you know cute. And he's a professional (educator) so he should be up my alley! Anyway, I'm waiting for him and I'm dreading the visit at the same time. What is wrong with me? Why do I torture myself? Every time I'm around this man he seems to find a way to make me feel like a sirloin steak on the plate of a man who just came off a 30-day fast!! I mean, damn! He keeps affirming to me that I have this ultra violet "WHORE" tattooed on my forehead!! It's so annoying.

I'm sure most women would agree that the first time you meet a man and he truly looks at you, it becomes apparent which category you'd like to put him in (there's a variety of 'em). It is also apparent to most women (whether they want to acknowledge it or not) that the first time a man touches you (in whatever capacity/even an accidental brush past you) it is evident what that man's intentions are towards you.

Some men touch you like they expect to find serenity within you, and they want to protect you and that (shut up! I know I'm a horrible feminist), and like the connection of your skin to his feels natural to both of you. You could swear your body just heated up at least 10 degrees from his touch. There are also those men who's touch is intentionally forgettable, just flesh to flesh, minus the head and heart that always feels strained and awkward, because he fears the opportunity to connect. And then there are those men who, the first time they touch you, even if just to take a hand (let alone a hug or anything else), touch you like their intention is to disrupt your happiness, under the guise of packs of lies they intend to tell.

CPK Guy has greeted me with a hug (and tug of my hand) each time we've met. So I've already figured him out. The question is, how long do I continue on with this?

See the thing about women is that, some times we let some men touch us, because we fear, that other men have touched us right!

Until.

2006-10-16T02:09:00.000-04:00

A few months ago I was catching up with a cousin of mine that I hadn't spoken with in at least of year. At some point in our conversation, he cut me off and asked me, "are you happy?" I'm thinking to myself, what kinda question is that? And what the hell kinda vibe am I giving off that he thinks I might not be happy? But I couldn't really answer his question. Truth is I was as puzzled. "I'm trying to be." I replied after what seemed like moments of silence. At this point in my life there were/are multiple reasons for not being at happy. Everything from career woes, invisible dollars, to cramped quarters, to my relationship rigmarole, and everything in between. After being stumped by my own reply, I wished he'd given me a solution to my dilemma, but he didn't.

One of my favorite books of all time is In the Spirit, by Susan Taylor. I love this book, and read and know it like most people know The Bible. The first time I read it, the words seemed to speak truth to me. She has this passage in it that's so powerful, I memorized it the first time I read it! It goes, "We can't experience the love that we crave when we are angry or holding grudges. Bitterness blocks love's flow. And eats away at the host. A thought that helps me not to be resentful of anyone who hurts or disrespects me is that people can only be who they are. Expecting them to be who we want them to be, or to operate beyond their level of understanding and development, is an exercise in frustration for us and is unfair to them. We'd best accept folks as they are, or let them grow on without us."(p.13) I try daily to remember and practice that.

All of this ties together, believe me. Trying to get happy, and my non-negotiables for dating. The one thing I know is that you can't expect another person to bring you happiness (you've got to already be at that point by yourself). I also know that failing to follow my own prescription for healthy and happy dating life will (as it should) result in disaster. The bottom line is you can't get what you want if you don't know what it is. At this point I'm not sure what "it" (happiness) should look like for me.

So in an attempt to "get right" I've picked up my personal life road map, and I'm back on the journey towards happiness! Or at least trying to be! I've definitely realized that happiness can't be found at the end of some long process or trial. Happiness must be found in all the stumbles along the way. I've also realized that unlike India Arie, maybe I'm not "Ready for Love."

Until.

2006-09-08T00:10:00.000-04:00

In The Wretched of the Earth, Frantz Fanon wrote, "Each generation must out of relative obscurity determine its mission, fulfill it or betray it." I believe, truer words were never spoken. But I must ask the question, what if you spend most of your life trying to determine what your mission is? Do you end up with enough time to fulfill it? Is the betrayal in not determining your mission sooner, when all the evidence was right in front of you the whole time?

Well, my mission isn't yet clear. In the meantime, I pray for clarity and more time.

Until.

2006-09-02T22:21:00.000-04:00

About two years ago, two friends of mine (also teachers), and myself took a much needed mental-health holiday to St. Croix (one of Virgin Islands). At that point in the year we were all in desperate need of life makeovers. The focus of our trip was to identify our "new paradigm shift" as we reminded ourselves frequently! Professionally we felt battered. Emotionally we were exhausted. Physically we were worn, torn, and tattered. And socially, we were at an impasse. Eat, Drink, and be Merry! Our three rules for the week!

Well, when we arrived on the island that evening our hotel was offering the first of many solutions to ensure that we followed our 3 rules: Rum-Punch Hour! We quickly changed into beach wear and grabbed headphones and magazines to sit and soak up the last few minutes of the sun until sunset (hell, who am I fooling? We intended to sit on that beach that night until! --Which is until we felt like it--sun or no sun!) Anyway, as we passed through the patio (where the other guests--and the Rum-Punch was located) we filled our glasses, and sat for a moment (we didn't want to be rude!) Fate would have it that a woman, who would later be responsible (with her husband) for our new paradigm shift) passed and commented that she loved the RealSimple magazine that my friend was reading. She said that she look forward to seeing it in her mailbox every month! I agreed.

The next afternoon we passed them on the beach as we were taking a break to walk around down town. We spoke briefly and proceeded to sightsee. That night our hotel (wonderful by the way) sponsored a huge dinner (as they do once a week). We happened to see that woman and her husband as we stood in line. The husband came over and told us that they saved us three seats so that we could have dinner with them. Over dinner we found out that this woman was a retired teacher, who lived on Long Island! How odd! Before I get too deep into this story let me share something with you. I once heard someone say that the definition of coincidence is a small miracle in which God wishes to remain anonymous. I definitely believed that after this trip! Anyway, back to the story. We discussed with her some of the frustrations and concerns that we were now feeling at this point in the school year, in our classrooms, with our students, with our profession, and with our careers. She shared a wealth of knowledge that night that reignited our passion as educators-- for at least until the end of that school year.

She and her husband also shared the story of how they met, and how he courted her (remember when people still did that). They told us how two of their sons were already married and that the one closest to our age was now engaged. And then the husband asked about the state of our dating lives. Even though it was music, dancing, and tons of people on that beach, I could have sworn I heard crickets chirping and fish swimming in the ocean--we were so silent.

Free spoke first, (not one to mince words) she told him how most of the guys we meet weren't really normal, and that some turned out to be downright jerks (keeping the language clean for the elders). Gracie and I agreed with Free's analysis of the situation. I think the next thing he asked us was, "well who do you want to date?" We were kinda stumped by the question. We all said, "A nice normal guy." "That's not specific enough." He responded. "How do you know who to avoid and who you want if you don't really have a clear idea?" He told us to go back to our rooms that night, and sit and really think and come up with a list of qualities (really non-negotiables) that we were looking for in a man. He also told us to create a list of solutions to attempt to secure the non-negotiables on our list.

As soon as we got back to our room we each grabbed pen & paper and spread out throughout the suite. Initially we worked independently creating our own lists in isolation. Then after about 45 minutes we shared and (as good friends do) ripped each other's work to pieces. We called each other out on all the BS that we'd been accepting and that we do. We challenged each other to truly examine the full implications of what we wanted and needed. We also spoke at length about what we were no longer willing to accept. We discussed and debated our solutions to attempt to rectify (the situation--as we called it)! And since we were on the road to our "New Paradigm Shift" we each made road maps to happiness, a list of things (tangible) that need to be done to ensure that we were living our best lives. When we finally went to sleep that night (morning really) if felt like 3 different people were in that room. What difference a "Paradigm Shift" can make!!

Well, in light of a recent encounter with a gentleman, to be known to you as The CentralPark Guy, I pulled out my list and took a long look at it, and thought about how I'd been betraying it in the past two years. What I wrote on those lists were my purest thoughts. My non-negotiables were what I know I deserve and want. Why had I betrayed myself? I mean, I'd been following some aspects of my lists--but I'd not been adhering to it like the legal document it deserved to be! I'd turned my back on my own truth! I have no one else to blame for the nonsense that I'd encountered, since I'd not been following my own document! Damn!

Last night CentralPark Guy called, and for like 5 minutes I was tempted to take his call--but I didn't. Then for like 25 minutes more I was tempted to return his call. Right now, I won't even get into the incident that led up to me avoiding his calls. But needless to say, I sat and reviewed the list (to see how many requirements from my list, he met). Not enough for me. No call back. A good guy, for another girl.

Anyway, my list reads like this: (Free & Gracie's lists were different)

5 Qualities I need from a man in a relationship:

1. Intelligent (intellectually engaging, witty)
2. Spontaneous (flexible)
3. Sensual (not sexual)
4. Passionate (about life)
5. Independent

I want a man who makes love to my mind long before he even touches my body. A man who's relaxed--but focused--easy going and flexible but able to guide me when I need it. A man whose physical touch is so tender and so sincere that it burns an indelible mark on me--right down to my soul--he leaves his print on my spirit--un matched by another. A man who knows passion and isn't afraid of feeling passion for me. A man that contributes to his family, community, and culture and controls his own fate by believing in himself.

Maybe I need to shrink my list down to pocket-size and carry it with me at all times. As I learn info about him, I can check to see which qualifications he meets (if any), then avoid any potential crazy antics. That might work?

Well, for now, I'm gonna just work on me. I'm paying close attention to that road map I told you about, and I've got the list of non-negotiables in my back pocket, if something should arise.

Until next time.

2006-09-01T00:43:00.000-04:00

Maybe Carrie was right, maybe we can be haunted by the ghosts of old relationships. Whether it's an old boyfriend, best friend, or boss, do you think that we keep encountering some people or memories of a relationship until we have closure? I'm starting to think that this is true. But sometimes you don't want to deal with anything. Sometimes you feel avoidance is just the way to go! (And it is)!

About a week or so ago, while visiting my family (and friends) in my Mid-Western hometown, I was shopping with my Mom in my favorite store (Tar`get). I'm strolling and walking, enjoying the store and then I see a guy I really didn't feel like dealing with. In this situation, what would you do? I figured, I did the same. I faked a move to the left and rounded the corner like I was going up for a jump shot. The only problem is at the time I was standing at the end of the aisle talking to my Mom (mid sentence-mind you), who was at the other end of the aisle with the basket. As I took the fake move left around the corner (because I saw him over her head in the next aisle over) my Mom began to follow me with the basket. I peeked down the next aisle (getting ready to call her) and there he was again. So I crouched down once again and proceeded to walk, (as fast as I could) to the end of the main aisle, where my Mom was now arriving--and looking very confused.

I know this doesn't seem necessary or normal to most of you, but if you had my experiences, you'd be doing fake fast moves in Tar`get like Jordan too! I can't tell you how many times I've looked up and been staring at somebody face to face that I thought I would never ever ever have to see again!

In most cities it may be common to keep running into people that you don't want or need to see anymore, but I live in NYC. Isn't it like 8 million people here-or something? How do I keep running into the ones I don't want to see??? The Chinese Rasta I've only seen from a distance, too far away to do anything about it! But lunatics-- Oh! They're all up in my face!

Example #1: one day, I'm walking with my friend after work on 86th Street (we're browsing-basically window shopping and winding down from the long teaching work day). As we pass the bus stop, I come face to face with The Psychic! Needless to say, I'm not good with controlling the expressions on my face when I'm thinking something. I've been trying--but have never been successful. He looks me dead in my eye like he wishes he could spit in it. Maybe it had something to do with me telling him that I thought he was an effin lunatic and that I didn't need to know him anymore? I dunno?

Another day, (again after a long day at work--headed to the salon). I hop on the train and settle in for my long ride from The Bronx to Lower Manhattan. As soon as I get on the train and the doors close, I notice that the guy standing next to me is staring at me (from under his fitted cap). Whatever, I think to myself. As soon as a seat is available I sit and then he sits directly across from me. It finally dawns on me that that weirdo still peering at me from under his fitted is The Virgo!

Yea, The Virgo was this obsessive lunatic that bordered on stalking. He called so much and was so inappropriate that I used my caller ID as God had intended me to---to avoid him! He got so lunaticish that he started calling from other people's numbers and blocking his number, he would even call me at like 3 in the morning (when I was half asleep) when I'd answer the phone he'd start talking like it was 5pm and I was expecting his call. LUNATIC, didn't I tell you? I finally had to change my number.

So back to him-watching me--on the train. I start to get nervous because he's clearly watching me (and making great efforts to make sure I don't know its him, watching me). I prep a text msg telling where I am, and that the lunatic is following me and scaring the hell out of me and what station I'm pulling into. I don't have service underground but I know that at the next stop (59th and Columbus) there's a spot on the platform where I get service. I just want somebody to know what's going on in case this LUNATIC does something to me. I don't want to be an episode of Law and Order (u know they love the RIPPED FROM THE HEADLINES shit)!!! I'm getting more nervous because this platform is very narrow and he could easily push me off (in front of a train)!! I know I watch A LOT of Law and Order. But you know that's an episode.

Anyway, as we stop at the station, I wait until the very last minute (when the doors are open) and hop off the train! I look back, and he hopped of behind me! What the hell?? Ok. So my new plan is, get upstairs to the local platform so I can send the msg, and maybe I'll see some cops!! That ass actually followed me upstairs. I send the msg (and watch him watching me steps away). As I wait for the train, one of my friends calls back to check on me. He suggests I just get out of the station and find a cop. That's a great idea, and I'm sure the right one, but---I have a hair appointment! I need my do done! I will not be late and miss my appt. I stand and talk to him until the next train comes when I tell him I'm gonna hop on at the last minute. Just before the doors close--I'm on, and the lunatic is not!! Thank GOD!!!!

My ghosts are not limited to the men I may have dated. I've also been haunted by ex-best friends and teachers I couldn't stand. Sometimes it isn't a haunting--because they're not a ghost in your life yet! You're just counting the days until they are. Prime example: the chick.

I've run into a co-worker (my co-teacher), who I couldn't stand (and she couldn't stand me)!!! I mean I disliked this person so much, I just wanted to smack her face 10 good times. This chick tried to make me look incompetent at my JOB! The least I owed her was a sock in the eye! Anyway, One Saturday afternoon I'm leaving the dog park with two friends, and who runs up to me, but the chick! Oddly enough just days before she told me to my face that she thought I was neglectful of my duties as a teacher and that I should be honest and accept it. She also said a whole bunch of other stuff (like lying on me-about some shit she was supposed to do). When I called her on it (only addressing it because she was talking shit to our supervisor about me), she tried to make me look crazy! She even cried (I mean real tears) in a mediation (that she requested) with our supervisor. She said I made it miserable for her and she didn't want to come to work. I was often so mean that she just wanted to avoid me all together! Well that makes two of us! ASS!

Anyway, she runs up to me, violates my personal space and hugs me. What the? She tries to touch my dog, and introduces herself to my friends, then tells me some random shit---as if I care. Why do this? I know you hate me! She screwed up my energy for the whole day. DAMN! DAMN! DAMN JAMES!

Another, I-hope-to-be-ghost encounter was when I'd also been walking with a friend of mine (on Broadway) and had The GOP pull up next to me. No bad energy here--I'd just been avoiding him. I'm trying to live right! I was trying to avoid temptation! It was like offering people in Hell, ice water! His heavy accent (which I could hardly ever understand what he was saying unless I was reading his lips), thick dreds, and sweet kisses were almost enough to make me forget my promise to myself! But I didn't. I maintained! And wound up with a migraine for dinner! Stress is a BITCH!

Maybe in some instances, the end that we think we desire really doesn't exist. Perhaps, we have to be brave, like Miranda, and give up the ghost! Who knows what's meant to be?

2006-08-31T02:55:00.000-04:00

Have you ever had a day when you felt like you were in the middle of some type of karmic punishment? No matter how much you prep or plan, nothing works out! Just the other day I traveled to DC for a job interview. I left NYC early that morning on the AMTRAK. I arrived @ Union Station with time for breakfast and to do a little people watching. (Sounds great so far doesn't it). After my breakfast (and as my interview time approached) I found the restroom and changed into my "Interview Attire."

Oyea, I forgot to tell you about the train ride. Well, I got on what I thought was a silent car (no cell phone use or loud conversations). I thought this because it was labeled (with a huge sign hanging from the ceiling) SILENT CAR. Anyway, I get seated and comfortable and the train begins to take off when the conductor comes through and grabs the sign and yells, "Silent car is two cars up!" I'm definitely irritated but, I'm like its no big deal, I'll be fine. Just as I get ready to fall asleep the "gentleman" in from of me lays his seat back as far as he can, so far that he looks over the back of the seat (I'm so not lying) and his head is in my lap. What the hell???? He smiled then turned around (of course leaving the seat in the same position). Anyway, long story short, 20 minutes later he's snoring so loud he wakes me up. Where I remain awake for the duration of the 4 hour ride!

Okay, back to me getting dressed. I go out to hail a cab, and am pointed to a cab at the end of the walkway. I get all the way down there, greet the gentleman, tell him where I'm going (address) and wait. "Uhhh! Do you know how to get there?" my taxi driver asks. "Uhhh. Nope. But I have mapquest directions." (Because I'm prepared like that). He takes a look and says, "I just started driving. I don't know where this is. You need to get another cab." (This whole transaction took about 10 minutes). So now I get out and walk back to the taxi stand. Take 2!! "Sir, do you know how to get to this address?" I am fortunate! He tells me he use to live in this neighborhood. Great!!! I get there and ask him if I can hail a cab to get back down town from here. I'm told I need to call one, so I take the number from him. I go into this wonderful new building which also houses several non-profits in addition to the school.

Okay, there's nobody at the security desk. That's weird! And there's nobody in this front corridor. So now I start walking looking for someone to direct me to the school. I go into the first non-profit's office-- (it’s unlocked!!) No people! Where are all the folks? Computers are on, and I hear voices but see no people (and I'm all up in there space). I think they're hiding from me!!!Next office, again unlocked. No people, no voices. I'm outta that one! Across the hall I see two women sitting and talking in an office. Knock on the glass and wait for a second then enter the door (this whole bldg is glass by the way you can see everything). They look at me, I smile then they continue to have a conversation about the hair salon for at least 6 minutes. Finally I say, "Excuse me!" Of course with a smile! "Where is the _____ School?" I'm told upstairs and I thank them and leave.

I get upstairs and all the lights are off. The school's door is locked. But I'm still thinking there must be some reason. "She must be in the back," I think to myself. I call from my cell and the phones just ring and ring, and ring. Just at that moment, my cell phone battery beeps that the battery is low!!! I don't believe this shit!! I charged that battery all night! How is this possible?? Anyway, now I'm in a mad dash to look for a public phone in the bldg. Not one anywhere? I ask two people and am told that there isn't one!!!! Why me?? Why today??

I quickly call the taxi dispatch--she puts me on hold!!!!! Damn!!! Why today?? My battery is dying and I'm gonna end up stuck in the middle of somewhere where cabs don't come!!! Dispatcher comes back and tells me she'll send somebody & to give her the cell number. I warn her that my battery is dying. She calls back in 5 (quick) minutes to say come outside and the cab would pull up in a minute! Yea!! I am grateful!!!Well, this taxi driver is quite suspicious of me. "You know its $15 to get there?" he asks. "I know!" For the entire ride he watches me with a scowl on his face over his shoulder and in the rearview mirror.

I've already decided that I'm taking one of the China Town busses home because they're only $20 (they just take a long time). I get out and I don't see the name of this company anywhere around me. Maybe I have the wrong address? I decide to walk to the hotel two blocks over to see if they can tell me where the bus company actually is. Did I tell you it’s at least 92 degrees this day (the actual temperature) at least!!! I am hot as hell!!!!!! In my interview clothes--just roasting!!! At least I changed into my flip flops in the cab. Anyway, they tell me to go to the Chinese restaurant 2 blocks over. I walk over there and inquire about the China Town shuttle bus. The first response was that there's no bus. Then as I'm leaving, a cashier gives me a small printed schedule and tells me that the bus is like (15 alphabets away!! That's because in DC some of the streets are identified by alphabets). Right now I wanna cry!!!!I start walking anyway. At the corner I see a cell phone shop and have this bright idea to buy a battery so that I can use my phone. $30 that I don't have down!! But wait! Uumhh? Why is the phone not working yet? I forgot I need to charge the battery first! So stupid. Just keep walking (I'm thinking to myself--in a very angry way)!

3 more hot ass blocks and I see and pay phone and decide to check on the address of the original shuttle service I had planned to use. According to the msg--I was at the right place! So I walk all the way back. I'm dripping with sweat and tears. I look and this time I see people standing around, scattered around with luggage. I ask one person and that's it! This is where the bus picks up! Yea!!!! I celebrate by running inside to buy a frappachino. 30 minutes later the bus arrives. In the meantime I've been standing in the shade because it's hot as hell. There are now a whole lotta people in front of me. No big deal. The driver announces that all those who have reservations can get on first (35 people) and the rest of us (6 people) can ride to the next stop. If there's room we can stay on the bus, but if a lot of people over there have reservations, we will have to get off and wait for the next bus which is at 5:30 and it is now 2:30.

I wanna cry. Of all the damn shuttle companies, how did I pick the one that you have to have a reservation for??? Only me. At this point, after the day I had, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna end up getting put off and waiting on the 5:30 bus. To my surprise I am wrong.

Well, at 8pm we roll into NYC! Yep, I said it, 8pm. Please let me remind you I left my house at 6am that morning. Anyway, I go and pick up my doggie and head home. As I'm getting undressed (from the clothes that are completely soaked with sweat) I notice my shoulder and side are bruised from carrying my bag with my portfolio & purse in it all day long in 92+ degree heat. Anyway, I play my answering machine and have a msg from the woman I was supposed to interview with. She called me at 1:30 (which is 30 minutes after our scheduled interview time). She states that she's not sure if I know it or not but she's at the OTHER school location this week, on the OTHER side of town. She leaves the number to her office at that location.

I cannot believe it!!! How would I have known that? The first thing the next morning I call to explain my series of unfortunate events, and the fax machine keeps picking up every time I call. I shoot her an email and explain everything and tell her that I thank her for the opportunity, but Yesterday's day of planes, trains, and automobiles was a sign. I'm not yet ready to leave NYC. Long story short, she calls me the next day and is extremely apologetic. She even offers to travel to NYC to interview me here. She asks me to take some time and relax from the craziness of that day, then reconsider her offer. A week later she received a wonderful thank you note, politely declining her offer.

As I reflect on the insanity of that day, I have to laugh. I don't know what that was all about but I know it was some karmic message I was supposed to get.

This much I’ve figured out . . . its funny as hell, now! I still haven’t sorted out the message or lesson for that day, but its so crazy, all I can do is laugh. Only me.

Until next time.

2006-08-29T23:41:00.000-04:00

So I've been thinking about my relationship Karma lately! I'm not one of those weepy chicks trying to figure out why I'm single (the answer is for now, I prefer it that way! Thank you very much!). Anyway, I digress! I've just been thinking about it because I have come across more than my share of lunatics! I kid u not! I'm like a magnet for their kind. Well, I just wonder what have I done in my past relationships to deserve such insanity and chaos? I've tried hard to pin point the occasion--unsuccessfully! I've never cheated! Besides the fact I think its wrong and what goes around comes around. That's just way too much work for me! I can barely stand one man at a time let alone two of em (don’t get me wrong- as Elaine said, “I hate men, but I’m not a lesbian!”). I don't lie in my relationships! (Yet another reason I'm single--Bottom line, I have a super shitty memory)! I just don’t know what I’ve done to bring the nonsense to me that seems to find me. I do know that I have spent most of my adult life avoiding relationships--like they're a disease. I am beginning to think that one of my past lives holds the key to my chaos of today!

I'm starting to think that in one of my past lives I fucked up and was born a man! I think that there are some lessons I'm meant to learn in this life (as a woman) but the only problem is that I still have the heart of a fucked up man! It causes so many issues for me you can't begin to believe. The worst part of it as that no man—wants to date a man! Unless he’s gay (not that there’s anything wrong with that).

As I ponder my "relationship karma" I realize that my relationships are few and far between. For the most part I have difficulty maintaining anything serious beyond a year or so. I think I have issues with commitment. This is the part of me that won’t even allow me to commit to a cell phone plan. Hell, I’ve been in my apt for 4 years now, and each year I keep taking a one year lease because I don’t want to commit to anything longer—even though it costs me more money. What is wrong with me????

Half the time I avoid relationships like its Ebola. My longest relationship was/is with a man that I call "Good on Paper Guy." I saw The GOP for probably two years. The key to our "relationship"--it had no name, no expectations, no rules, and no love. I can tell you this much, I burned a lot of calories in that relationship!!! Hummm! I digress, my apologies! The GOP is everything that I have always said I wanted and needed in a man--physically, spiritually, intellectually, financially, all around! He is everything! But just one thing -Carrie said it best, " is a relationship a relationship without the zsa zsa zsu (aka: that special something that gives you butterflies in the stomach)?” I don't think so. And unfortunately, I just never felt that with him!

What’s wrong with me? I wanna meet my soul mate! I wanna be happy and get married and raise children! Well maybe not get married. Or raise children (that’s still up for debate). But I do want to be happy!! That much I know! Maybe I’m missing that girl gene that makes u plan your wedding day when you’re 10, or pretend to be the mommy when you’re 6, or pray for a husband when you turn 30!

Just like Carrie, I too was told that I'm "not the marrying type!" Initially I was hurt and even angered by being told this! Just what the hell did he "My Mr. Big" mean by telling me that I'm not the marrying type? This divorcee is telling me that I'm not the marrying type? This divorcee that is now unable to even spell marriage or monogamy is telling me I'm not the marrying type? He said he recognized it because he too was not the marrying type! Oh! That makes me feel so much better! Another on the relationship Karma train to pain is telling me that I'm fucked up! Just my luck!Anyway, he thinks that I'll probably meet some one but that we'll just live together. How nice!

Well, the GOP was only one of many of the interesting men I’ve dated in my adult life. The roster reads like a cast list for Seinfeld. Here’s a few of the high (or low) lights:

The Special One
The Liar
Porno Star
Cool Runnings
The Rasta
The Grocery Store Guy
My Greatest
The Psychic
The Virgo
The Chef
The Proper West Indian
The Crazy Puerto Rican
CentralPark Guy

Anyway, as my good friends prepare for showers and weddings, I congratulate them, and am happy for them! They have been brave enough to do what I (and so many like me) have been unable to do--they have called, claimed and named love! One of the boldest acts of courage is claiming love. Believe it or not! I have met many men in my lifetime, but just a few seemed kinda right for me. I don't know if perfect exists but I have seen kinda right, eye to eye. And I sit and think and wonder, is this love? Is this as good as it gets for me? Vivian Green has this song, what is love? She talks about (just like me) wondering if she’s looking at love, and if its not, recognizing that maybe that’s as good as it’ll get for her. I often feel that I wouldn’t know love if it was looking me in the face.

I know what I hope love looks like, but I don’t know if it’s possible. I want a man that is brave enough to expose his insecurities to me and to be willing to reach for me, when I might not brave enough to reach for him. The basis of love is vulnerability.

Sometimes it’s so scary and painful to be vulnerable, but that pain doesn’t compare to the pain of missing an opportunity to love because you weren’t brave enough to love!Sometimes it seems as though when u lose love you sit in a pain that is beyond belief. Death often seems to be the certain solution from the pain that can devour you. It is because "the heart dies a slow death."

So for now, like Carrie I too must ask the question, “Are soul mates a reality, or a torture device?" I will say I’m not sitting and waiting for a soul mate to find me (and I'm not out looking for them), but I’ve decided that for a little while I’m taking a break from the empty sex. It feels good while you’re in the middle of it, but no matter how big he is, it doesn’t fill me up.

Until next time.

2006-07-31T20:49:00.000-04:00

Ok. More poof that somethings only happen in my world! It's a hot Sunday morning in July (maybe 96 degrees already). I'm walking with my friend just a few blocks from where I live (in my hood), and what do I see? I see a drug addict (in the process of begging--looking high as hell mind you!) wearing a mini skirt, tank top, and my stolen UGGs!!! Do you believe it? Only me! That was so a sign from somebody about something, that I have yet to figure out!

2006-03-09T06:47:00.000-05:00

Add one more pregnant friend to my list! (I just found out yesterday!) What the hell is in the water?

2006-03-05T00:40:00.000-05:00

2006-03-04T22:52:00.000-05:00

Ok. Today is obviously gonna be a Sex and the City kinda day! I know this because when I opened up my apartment door, and looked down to put on my oohsoo cute $150.00 + Ugg Boots they were GONE!!!!!! (I am immediately taken to the episode of "A Woman's Right to Shoes!" That was the episode in which Carrie's Manolos were stolen from a party when she was forced to remove her shoes @ the door). Ok. I've been living in this building for almost 4 years now, and I always leave my Sh*t in the hallway, in front of my door! No one has ever taken anything from me, PRIOR TO TODAY! Why today though? Why this week? Again, I revert back to SATC. Prior to the stolen $150.00 + Ugg Boots (Yes I must keep mentioning the Price-I'm pissed!)

One of my closest friends told me she was "Engaged" (it wasn't a surprise though), another close friend mentioned that her boyfriend should be buying her "Ring" soon, while another friend recently (like within the past few weeks--told me she was getting married in just a few weeks (Why Wait?)! I'm not done yet--another close friend told me she was pregnant (and due this fall), then to top it off I opened up my email and saw a message telling me that yet ANOTHER friend of mine is pregnant. Ok people! All this information was given to me in a matter of hours!!! I'm not lyin! So I'm sitting there reflecting on my life, and being happy for all of them.

I'm just wondering is God trying to send me a message? One friend -- its a whisper! 4 or 5, God is shouting @ me!! I think my message is that I need to make some changes in my life! Maybe its time for me to grow up? I mean, my friends, we're all the same age. They're all making grown-up moves and I don't even know where to start! I don't have a car (sold it when I moved to NYC). Don't own a home (I live in NYC--enough said--I pay a mortgage in rent)! I have no savings account (did I mention, I live in NYC). And I don't like my job (I'm a teacher--I love the kids--but hate the adults)! I don't even know a man that I like enough to sit next to for two hours during a movie (as you can see--I'm single)!

So basically, now I'm left to evaluate my life. Now I'm thinking maybe its time for me to pack-up my stuff and leave The City! I mean I love New York! But I'm starting to feel like New York, doesn't love me back! Ok, I forgot, back to the $150.00 + Ugg Boots! I was getting dressed for work on the morning I intended to "QUIT MY JOB!" (I did, but it didn't take! But that's a story for my next posting--All I can say is ONLY ME! )

As I think of all the good news I got from my friends, and my intention to quit my job, and my stolen $150.00 + Ugg Boots, I'm left thinking that maybe I'm being punished for my carefree (and sometimes careless) single life? Maybe I need to grow-up, marry one of the men I know, and have a baby or two, so that family and random strangers can quit asking me "What's wrong? Why aren't you married? Don't you want kids? Why can't you find somebody?" As if I know the answer to any of those ridiculous-ass questions!!! I ponder this question for just a moment, then I realize, "I pretty much hate people!" (Seinfeld quote: Yea! People are the Worst!) And even though New York doesn't always (or rarely ever does) treat me right, just like my boyfriends of the past, that I knew it would never work out with, I'm enjoying the fun we can have together in the meantime!

In closing, one girl's stolen $150.00 + Ugg Boots, are another girl's ticket to freedom!