July 2005 Archives

I'm gonna post the drivers in traffic pics from ManNMotion's meme, as soon as my slow-a$$ camera gives up the goods (anyone know an easy way to get pics off your camera phone - holla at a playa, k?). And he's right - that one is a lot harder than I thought...

Meanwhile, want to find out what your birthday says about you? Click here: Birthday Calculator

I am 1,236,679,911 seconds old.

There are 297 days till my next birthday
on which my cake will have 40 candles on it.

My birth tree is

Chestnut Tree, the Honesty
Of unusual beauty, does not want to impress, well-developed sense of justice, vivacious, interested, a born diplomat, but irritable and sensitive in company, often due to a lack of self-confidence, acts sometimes superior, feels not understood, loves only once, has difficulties in finding a partner.

Whew - that's a lot of minutes. I guess I should be freaked out about my next birthday, but nah...looking forward to it. And as for my personality, is that too close to the truth, or a good guess? I certainly hope that the "loves only once" thing isn't true...

I had a weird dream today.

I accepted a flower delivery that wasn't intended for me, from some guy named Michael. Apparently, he was trying to send flowers to his ex-girlfriend that had recently dumped him, and he was trying to make it up to her. She caught him cheating, while he was working at Kinkos, with a customer that was getting prices on postcard printing. The customer was supposed to have been working on drop mailings to distribute accutane information, but was really trying to get her groove on.

Ok, to be honest, that wasn't the dream. So, if you're scratching your head, thinking "what the heck is she blathering about", I haven't lost my whole mind. Well, at least no more of my mind than I had previously. But...I'll explain what this is about in a few days.

Ok, I stole this from EJ, but it looks innerresting (yeah, that's a word)!

Ten years ago: my life came completely undone
Five years ago: Restarted college & jump started my life
One year ago: finished my undergrad & recaptured my social life - yeah!
Yesterday: mad @ the object of my affection(theOofA). weasel.
Today: decided theOofA will be supplemented with MrRightNow (MRW)
Tomorrow: making a date with MRW.
5 snacks I enjoy: Rafaello's, mixed nuts, olives stuffed with almonds, chips, Apple Jacks
5 bands that I know the lyrics of most of their songs: Bands? Artists! - Mary, Jill, Erykah, D'Angelo, and the Wu-Tang-Clan
5 things I would do with $100,000,000: bequeath (yeah, the chil'ren would be skr8), shop, travel, donate, and give away. In That Order.
5 locations I’d like to runaway to: Jamaica, Puerto Rico, Paris, Rio, and several countries in Africa. Not In That Order.
5 bad habits I have: DWI (driving while insane), eating late @ night, watching mindless TV, spending too much time online, and saying yes
5 things I like doing: spending too much time online, eating late @ night, reading, singing and kissing
5 things I would never wear: legwarmers, tapered jeans, a bustle, stirrup pants, and sweater boots
5 TV shows I like: Girlfriends, The Wire, Six Feet Under, Entourage, Chappelle's Show
5 movies I like: The Best Man, The Notebook, The Color Purple, The Usual Suspects, Anchorman
5 famous people I’d like to meet: Oprah, Maya Angelou, Traci Ellis-Ross (my hair idol), Ghandi (learn selflessness), and either Chad L. Coleman or Antoine Fuqua (I can lust, can't I?)
5 biggest joys at the moment: teaching my son to read, spending time with theOofA , thinking about theSlab, programming in Java, enjoying my regained social life
5 favorite toys: Legos, my Barbies (preferably Kenyan), my Evel Knievel Doll w/Jump Bike*, PlayDoh, and jewelry making sets
5 people to tag: PrincessDominique, Solitaire, Ms. Blaize, Xquizzyt1, and Brown Sugar. Oh, and you too!

*ok, technically I had Evel's girlfriend, but for the life of me I can't remember her name. Any takers?

Ok, so I've been gone for about a week. Here's what happened:

Class:: My employer is big on training - to maintain current skills, develop new skills, etc. So we have to do a suggested (read: mandatory) certain amount of training every year. Well, I had to get some in this past week. Now, normally - we do this offsite, at some local IT training center. You know the type - continental breakfast, free snacks, free Internet access, buffet lunch, and at least one "treat" (read: cheesecake) during the course. Like a work-vacation away from work. So I was looking forward to the class. But NOOOOOO - someone yanked the plug on that. I don't know if the bill was too high (classes run about $3K per person-week), or they wanted to keep an eye on us. So they moved the class on-site - YURGH. No breakfast, no snacks, and we're trapped in an 8 X 10 for a week with no PC.

I already didn't want to take the class, because I'm familiar with the material. My old boss thought it'd be a decent refresher. Whateva. I signed up mainly for the free cheesecake. But then I'm stuck in the room with a few colleagues, and these two Pakistani co-workers. Now don't get me wrong, I've worked with people from all cultural backgrounds. This is going to be so un-PC, but the asking questions jawn got on my gaht-dang nerves. Those two asked so many friggin questions, we barely got past the 1st two pages of our book. They asked so many questions, the instructor spent at least 4 hours (spread over the 5 days) saying "we haven't covered that yet" or "that's outside the scope of this topic". Seriously. I mean, if we were talking about how to get from point A to point B, they were asking shyt like "If a missile leaves at point D at 2:00PM, and a train leaves point Z at 4:00PM, and crosses our path enroute to point B, how will that affect our flight?" The instructor gave them the Scooby-Doo answer "I ron ro?!!" We were supposed to get thru 12 chapters of the book. By day 3, we'd only covered 5. The instructor jokingly TOLD THEM at the rate they were asking questions, we'd finish Sunday afternoon around 5PM. Do ya THINK that slowed them down? Shyt.

Geeky sidenote:: We think, therefore we is smart, right? I mean, that's the hustle of being a smart m****-f****. One of my homeboys asked me though, how I liked working in the IT field, and I told him it was a challenge. Well, he goes "you ain't tripping that - you've always been smart". My response: "yeah, but I work around a whole bunch of smart m****-f****'s. Suddenly, smart is relative as hell." That's the meat of the thing that was driving me up the wall about that class. These two were sharp, but also aware that this is a 5-day class on object-oriented analysis & UML...there's only SO MUCH YOU CAN COVER. You ain't gonna be a Systems Analyst after the class is over, unless you're a Systems Analyst when the class started, so just let the shyt go. And anyway, I'm the Queen of the Use Case - so tryina ask questions to prove yourself smarter is just a waste of YOUR time.

Drinking Sugarwater:: I'll admit being stressed out, so I needed to chill, and my girls were coming in town: Jill, Erykah, Dana, Marsha & Natalie. Ok, we really don't get down like that, but I love them like that, yanno? So, a few female coworkers & I planned the wine & hot wing thing (cheese binds), and hung out. The highlights:
~ Fulton Country Sheriffs - I was stuck in traffic for about an hour, to drive a 1/2 mile to get to Chastain Park. 1/2 mile » 1 hour. (I was delayed by a baby-sitter, 'nuff said). So, when I finally got near Chastain, and saw two Fulton County sheriffs chillin' instead of directing traffic, I got pissed - 'cause that doesn't happen when Boney James or Kem comes to town....
~ bootlegged a Red Lot - drove over the curb to park in the Red Lot. I was pissed, ok?
~ scalping tix for the lo-lo - $200 for a 6-seat table, and Red Lot pass. I'm never buying advance tix for anything like this again.
~ Red-Red Wine - my girl brought it, and who am I to turn down her gracious offer?
~ All dem Titties! - ok, I was good & drunk, and I put $60 in my bra, and it did end up on the ground beneath my feet. That shyt did end up being the joke of the evening: "all dem titties and you can't keep your $$$ in your bra?" Whew...
~ The Show 20min per artist, with minimal setup changes in between. Missed Floetry completely, came in on Queen Latifah, who had a tight set - coupla Dana trax (the girl's got chops), with a Latifah track thrown in. Then Jill Scott got down, like she always does. Can I just say Jill throws down the vocal gauntlet whenever she appears? And it's hard for ANYONE to challenge her, ok? And (let me gush for a sec) she epitomizes regal elegance whenever she graces the stage - her presence is centered and frankly "Golden". Followed by Erykah, who surprisingly returned to her head-wrapped roots. But, no time for incense-burning, or stately entrances - they've only got 20 minutes, remember? So, she brings the fiyah on "Other Side of the Game" and a coupla other tracks, before they pull the plug...

The Queen calling out the Diva:: So, Jill talks a lil, as she always does, about folks in the music business, assuming the title of Diva. Now she had a point, because you have to be in the game for a while, to be awarded the title of Diva. She admitted she doesn't feel she's qualified quite yet - and is just coming into her "Queendom". And she named some true Divas - Ella Fitzgerald, Nancy Wilson, Gladys Knight, Patti Labelle, etc. Now, another Queen (my friend Mia to be exact) supposes that she was calling out one of the other diva's on the tour. e.Badu perhaps? Hm...

11:00:00:: And not a second more. I guess the Chastain Park residents don't play that, so there's an ordinance that shuts down the show. Too bad they caught Ms. Badu mid-song. Cool show, but with all the traffic hangups, it was a teaser. Like foreplay, with no follow up. And I was good & high from the red wine (and the Weed in the air) by then...

Drag-racing down Roswell Road:: Traffic out of the park is redirected, so I end up on Roswell Road, listening to Raheem Devaughn (thanks to EJ, whom I lub, but I can't get that dayum song outta my head). This guy comes from behind me, and pulls up next to me, revving his engine and giving me the gas face. Now, I am driving a Jeep Cherokee, and he's in a Honda Civic. And I know those things got hops, but c'mon - I gotta 6..a MUCH BIGGER 6. And I ain't neva scared. So we pull off, and next thing I know I dust this m****-f**** doing 90. We get stopped 1/2 mile down the road at another light, and he does it again. I already proved my point, so I ain't gonna do it again - not to mention if Fulton County stopped me, they'd throw me under the jail. I let him peel off on his own. :-D

...so, I had a blast, and woke up Friday with a new 'tude. Unbit my tongue, and when I heard another "what if?", let it fly "Can you hold those questions? I'd like to make it to chapter 9 before lunch..." and got my hand smacked by the teacher for that (but it did feel good)....

And, oh yeah...it was some combination of the rain getting to Chastain, the ganja at Chastain, and the red wine (didn't get in my hair, but I had a hangover like you wouldn't believe), making my hair smell like swamp water. Washed it all out, and I am a new woman. Oh wait, there's another bottle of Merlot left. Can you hand me that corkscrew, please?

Man, I've been meaning to post all week, but I've been busy...trying to stay awake in class...and drag-racing down Roswell Road at 90+MPH...high off some red wine & a ganja contact...e.Badu was there...as were Two Queens, one of whom called out a Diva...and there were some Pakistani folks bombarding the area with "what-if" scenarios...and I was the Queen of the Use Case, dodging my new boss...

...and no it wasn't all some weird dream...I swear I'mma tell y'all all about it...as soon as I wash the swamp-water smell outta my hair...

So, I've alwayz felt that I was the black sheep, for so many reasons. Only child (or so I thought), too fat, too smart, talked to "proper", acted too "white", too "bougie" (my daddy's thing - and I guilty by association), too good for both my mama and some of my daddy's people. With all of this in tow, being a black sheep, an outsider, didn't alwayz seem so bad. Can't miss what you never had - and it dodged a lot of teasing.

I've grown since then, and come to understand that families can be a strange and difficult thing. A double-edged sword, a careful imbalance, and maybe, just maybe, sometimes - those folks you call when you're in need. Maybe. Or you get called when they're in need. Or, if you're like me - you create one. Not to replace the one you have, but to create the real support group, that has your back when shyt inevitably gets thick.

With all this in my sub-conscious, I walked into this room, that contained the sea of faces you see pictured above. Well, actually there were probably an additional 40 or so people, from another portion of my family. More on that later.

As I walked in, my stomach tightened. I looked around for a familiar face, and those old feelings surfaced. Feeling outside, and thinking I'd never "belong". With Hammy pulling back towards the door, which was really tempting me, I took one more step into the room, and my whole perspective shifted.

I saw my cousin Lou, who was making the rounds of the room. Lou found me, on Zabasearch.com, as he has found most of the people in the room, quite a few of whom have only been to a few reunions. Lou smiled his gracious, humble smile, touched a few people on the shoulder gently, to check and see how they were doing, how their kids were doing, and to see why so-and-so didn't make it, making sure everything was ok. Lou is the glue, and he keeps this thing together, keeps track of our people, and works dayum hard to find more.

Then my cousin Barbara tapped me on the shoulder. She recognized me, even though we haven't seen each other since I was 7 years old. I recognized myself in her face, we look a lot alike. According to her, I look the same - just maximized...lol. We talked for a bit, and then she gently but firmly placed her hand in the small of my back, and pushed me around the room...

To meet my cousin Mike, and his new wife...and my great-aunt Lucille, who remembers me loving her homemade blackberry pie, and get pricked a whole lot by those blackberry bushes trying to find enough berries for her to make it...and my cousin Big P, who I swear looks so familiar...and on...and on. In each of their faces, I see small portions of me, that I always attributed directly to my mama & daddy. That wide nose, my mom's tribute, also in the face of cousin Patrice. My ultra-thick hair, beautifully laid (even if it is permed) on Margaret, and her daughter Karen, and her grandbaby KiKi, as well as most of my female cousins & aunts. My temper, manifested in my lil cousin Brian, who wasn't feeling the too-long line for food, and wanted to get his catfish on RIGHT NOW!!!

It was...very special. My family schooled me, on our bloodline, and our history. About a break down the middle of our fam, between my grandmama & granddaddy, that sent my grandma packing to divorce court, and a life 1000+ miles away. They gently reminded me that my step-grandfather wasn't my grandaddy, and told me what a mess my grandparents were back in their day. They explained about the different diverging bloodlines, and how our family "split" along those lines, because of some long-forgotten drama. We took one pic of the entire clan (still waiting for it to be sent from the photographer's), and then 3 pics, of each of the factions.

Shoot, I watched Lou theGlue, do the Electric Slide, the Cha-Cha slide, and at least 3 other line dances, including one I've never seen before that "drops it like it's hot" at the end. Note:: Lou is well into his 60's. Lou can drop it way better than I can. I talked to cousin Reggie for a long time, about our disabled children, and being an advocate for our kids. Cousin Michelle invited me to visit her clan, and promised to BBQ to get the other cousins to come by for a smaller "reunion".

I came to a small conclusion I guess, after feeling weird there, and after thinking about it during that storm on the way home. Family, like life, is really what you make of it. Those cataclysmic differences are only as large as you allow them to be. Drama will fade, and can be put away like old linens that turn to dust, with time. If you let them.

Am I still the Black Sheep? Sure, if I want to be. Or I can be theGlue, if Lou's ever willing to pass that title on. It's really up to me.

ETA:: *Names have all been changed to protect the innocent ;-)

u luv me? kewl, then let me
shave you baldhead with a str8 razor                                                (.|.)
cut ur hair wit no guard...                                                                  ).(
hang out & go shopping with your mom                                             ( v )
play bones with all your friends, and pull your ho card                          \|/

u luv me? kewl, then let me
check ur voicemail messages when u're not around
hold your ATM card for a day or two
let me hold ur cellphone unattended...
take a road trip outta state in ur truck without u...
take a road trip outta state in ur truck without u…

© 2005 - sagacious media

Inspired by the 10 Things I Love meme (wait, have I done that one yet? hm...I'll get back to that), and some comments on NP.com about Hot Ghetto Mess. Without any further ado:

1. The Two Brothers Commercials:: I ain't even apologizing for my dislike of this one. Everytime one of these comes on TV, I cringe. I mean, I hate to be classist & egregious, but this is some str8 coonage. It's bad enough that they mimic some well-known & loved (and some not-so-loved) black television shows & movies; but then they attempt parody, and do it INCREDIBLY BADLY. It's not amusing, it's not "cute", it's just G-hetto as hell. Frankly, it ain't exactly inspiring trust in these two's ability to make a biz decision. If that were the case, they'd just stop!
2. Fake naturals:: This is an admitted pet-peeve of mine. But really, There was a brief & shining moment when nappy headed folks were prominent in commercials - some Cingular commercials, the Rubber Band man for Office Max, even Mickey D's late night, etc. Nappy was momentarily trendy. Then, haircare companies got wise, and started selling pseudo-naps in bulk. Next thing you know, everyone has "natural hair" - like the Pantene yoga chick, whose hair is obviously relaxed and reset to look "natural". And let's not even talk about all the celebrities with "natural" hair, which is actually 14" Nappen-Yakki from the Korean store. Sheesh.
3. Bling:: I saw a picture on HGM.com of a brotha wearing a gold rim on his necklace. No, that isn't a typo - it was literally a 18" spinner on a heavy chain. Enough is enough. Can someone put an end to this madness?
4. Reality shows:: Yes, I'm a former fan, but I'm done. The premises for these shows are getting more implausible daily, as Producers run out of ideas. The Cut? Miami Ink? The Next Food Network Star? Hell's Kitchen? Hogan Knows Best? Ok, here's my premise:: you get 12 people - 6 average folks, and 6 has been stars, and lock them in an asylum, in a padded white cell with no food or water for 12 weeks. Then, you assign some angry Frenchman to be their resident intern - who screams French vulgarities at them at every opportunity. In order for them to eat, drink or leave the cell, they either have to perform some sort of talent (singing, dancing) or have to perform a dangerous stunt. The audience votes on the performance during the show, and the winner gets to leave the cell. At the end of the series, the least talented person is left to go insane in that cell. We'll call it "Les Très Miserables". I think that will work.
5. Video-hoochies gone legit:: So, I'm talking to E, and mid-sentence he goes silent. Me: "Yo are you there?" Him: "Um yeah - I'm watching BET - Buffie the Body is on..." And got silent again. I had to end the call! Between this no-talking chick (really - some folks just need to stick to their specialty and be quiet) and Karrine Steffans - they really need to go sit down somewhere. It's one thing to get rich/famous/notorious for being a video ho. It's a whole other thing to try and go "legit" from this. Stop the madness - this shyt is real circa 1987 - Mayflower Madam.
6. What's wrong with black women & why they can't get a man?:: Oh I'm too SICK of this SHYT. It would be one thing if anyone offered some quantifiable facts that led to some resolutions or solutions regarding the dysfunction in AA relationships. But no - ever since that dayum Newsweek article, and the following Essence response appeared - circa March 2003-ish - pundits are offering their "experiences" and theorizing on what the problem is, and how to solve it. Problem is - they're recycling the original statistics/theories cited in both articles. If you're not offering any new information, and at the root of your theory - you're just taking black women to task - why bother? Yes, Virgina - there is a problem - but the problem is much bigger than just the sista's attitudes. I feel another post coming on...
7. The DL:: I can empathize with Terry. I can roll my eyes at Star's denial. I can shake my head, roll my neck and tsk-tsk at the behaviors brought to light by J. L. King. But at the end of the day - these issues aren't new. At the heart of this, you have to get to know your spouse, before you jump into a relationship. You have to use protection, when you have sex. And you even have to protect yourself in your marriage, if your spouse is cheating. Whether the man is gay, bi, try or any other kind of -sexual ain't got shyt to do with it. If he's not faithful, you're at risk of so many things, including AIDS - gay or not. So enough already - the hysteria's been overblown, everyone's gotten their 15 minutes of fame, and chunks of cheese. Can we move on to the real problems here - the disloyalty, deception and dysfunction, instead of the DL? And take all of our dirty laundry out of The Closet?
8. Passive-Aggressive Men:: I like you, but I'm a good man, so I know you won't like me. Oh, you do like me? Then there's something wrong with you. Let me pick you apart, until I figure out exactly what that thing is. Oh wait, I wasn't really trying to pick you apart, I was just joking - trying to get to know you. Oh, so now you don't like me? See, I told you, you wouldn't like me. GTFOHWTBS.
9. Moving:: New project, new boss, new team, new desk. All a pain in da a$$. And despite me looking forward to theSlab (read: new house), the packing, cleaning, moving, unpacking is daunting. I've started (a lil) already, and I ain't looking forward to it.
10. Hotlanta weather/traffic:: Is this not the rainiest summer we've had in years? Rained Memorial Day, 4th of July, Hurricane Dennis just passed. Matter of fact, it has rained just about every dayum Friday, midday - just in time to f*&% up traffic all around the interior/exterior of the Perimeter for at least 6 hours (1pm - 7pm) for the last umpteen weeks. So much for me & Hammy finally taking advantage of our complex's pool - it opened Memorial Day weekend, and they've been closing every day because of this nasty weather. Compound that with Suburban Braves-fan non-drivers, and the typical Atl drivetime, and lately I've been having Happy Hour in my car. Oh wait, drinking & driving is illegal, right?

ETA:: Oops, I forgot to tag some folks, didn't I? Ok, 10 is easily divisible by 5, right? So I'll tag five, and y'all tag 5, and so on...and so on. Cee (since you hit me so quick...lol), EJ, X, ManNMotion, and MsB. Dang, there's a whole bunch of folks out there...oh hell, if you read this do it...dang!

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. Come home, pack a lil, clean a lil, and get ready to attend my family reunion in B'ham.


2. My future son-in-law graduates from college. Congrats, future fam.


3. Hit the road. If this child of mine sings "Itsy Bitsy Spider" one more time (his equivalent of 'are we there yet?!!!') I'm gonna scream.


4. My first impression of B'ham, Saturday afternoon: "Where is everybody?"


5. I take a mini-off-the-beaten-path tour. The Damn Yankee in me is over B'ham as soon as I hit the B'ham streets...


6. ...while the "conscious" person in me wants to inhale every piece of AA history B'ham offers. A return trip is already planned.


7. I meet the family. I am completely overwhelmed. More on this later.


8. We eat, we drink, we dance, we're merry.


9. Hammy's craving for attention is slightly overshadowed by those of his cousins. It must be hereditary...


10. I hit the road at 10:30PM EST, and force my truck to outrun Dennis. Didn't know that my lil ole SUV can go faster than 140MPH, did'ja? Neither did I.


11. My zen/dopefiend moment of the trip: passing an 18-wheeler, sheets of rain blurring my view, doing about 75MPH on I-20, on a strip of road with no shoulder, thru the Talledega Forest, where I see a sign - "Beware of Falling Rocks". I.am.never.doing.this.dopefiend.shyt.again.


12. It is better to have Liked...then liked, than to have fallen in Lust, only to have never loved at all.

Yeah, I fell in Like, then out of Like, then figured out I really liked, so I needed to avoid falling in Lust, which would've led to not falling in Love. Make sense?

It's no secret I've been struggling lately. Work has had me vexed, the lovelife sporadic, my kids have been frustrating me, and I've been lazily frustrating myself. No amount of sista-girl support, liquid courage, intentional persistent mental vegetation, homeboy handholding or musical meditation has offered me any sort of comfort. Tried to chalk it up to PMS, but Aunt Flo came & went, and I felt no better. I've been really introspective, which probably led to me being hyper-critical. And very depressed.

Not necessarily a bad thing either. Again, God sometimes breaks you down, so you can really listen. And sometimes he has to remove all the other mental stimuli (read: distractions) in order for you to really hear, for you to really feel and for you to really hear. I wasn't feeling anything.

So, I'm sitting in Starbucks, drowning my sorrows in an overpriced adult milkshake (read: frappucino), trying to focus on some pop-culture drivel (read: latest romance/self-help novel) and in walks, Her. Her, skin the color of brazil nuts, head shaven down to curly stubble. Her, in a sleeveless turtleneck and black leather circle skirt, hemline to the floor, in 90º Atlanta heat. Her, seemingly impervious to perspiration. Her, seemingly gliding 1/2 inch above the sidewalk. Her, cutting a long, lean line through the air.

She walked up to the coffee shop door, and arms scrambled to open it for her, before she could raise her outstretched arm to reach it. She smiled, and a thousand smiles reflected back on her. She walked, and a sea of people parted to let her through. She gracefully glided through the shop, and conversations paused to watch, and the participants all felt wonderful for having briefly encountered Her. Her presence was more about her inner beauty, her confidence, and the gifts that She brought to the world, than any of the visuals I'm trying to describe. She was not just "comfortable in her own skin". She was wholly, in and of herself. Centered. Aware. And that radiated from her.

Now, this whole interlude lasted no more than about 6 minutes, the time it took Her and her companions to retrieve 3 snow-capped overpriced adult hot chocolates, and leave. But she left behind an aura that somehow changed the nature of the room, for her having briefly been in it.

I want to cut that path through the world.

I am just naive (wise?) enough to believe that there are no chance encounters, and that every interaction in life has some meaning, somehow. The brief argument with a homeless dude while buying gas; the unpleasantness of a crackish encounter with my ex; the surprisingly good customer service at my local beauty supply store; the casual indifference of buying a fast food breakfast; even my self-initiated road rage incidents. They all have some impact, like the ripples after throwing a pebble in a pond.

So, I tied my hair up in bantu knots. And I, spent more time applying my makeup. And I, restarted my Java certification study group. And I, spent time mentoring a coworker. And I, wrote the outline for a book I'm considering writing. And I, retooled my wardrobe. And I, reached out and contacted some friends I haven't talked to in years. And I, spent time focused on my kids. And I, realized that cutting some people out of my life is a good thing. And I, decided that I needed to give selflessly of my time, energy and money, to empower myself. And I, embraced & threw myself at this new work project - 150%.

And I, took a long hard look in the mirror. And I gave what I saw some perspective. I told E a long time ago, that I'm friggin' stellar, no matter what some random dude (or the world for that matter) judges me to be. F&*% a dime, when you can have a $1.10, and that's what I am. And I, now, after having looked long & hard at myself in the mirror, can honestly say - most days - I like what I see.

So I, pulled myself up to my full height, straightened my spine and started walking normally again. Gracefully, again. Confidently, again.

In order to be completely, fully and as objectively aware of the path I cut through the world (well, as objective as humanly possible), I have to remain conscious of who I am, where I've been, where I want to go, and how I can get myself there.

So, here I am. I am saga. I am a writer, I am a Java-warrior-princess-in-training, I am stylishly attired, I am fabulously nappy. I am a good mother, a loyal friend, a semi-logical advisor and a trusted confidant. I am at once, big, beautiful, fragile, strong, vulnerable, smart, witty, and compassionate. And when I touch you or grace your presence, I want you to be forever changed from having met me.

Yeah, I like that idea.

So, I'm surveying the online dating landscape (read: blackplanet) and the view isn't pretty. Folks (M and F) are showing their scars, clearly. It ain't pretty.

Some quotes:
Women in Atlanta have some funky attitudes...
Men in Atlanta are either arrogant or too passive...
He/She/They don't know how to approach me...
Due to my encounters with people on this site, I'm taking a break from dating...

...oh wait, that last one's from my page. (note: I realize bp is just wrong on so many levels, but it was a handy gauge. and theChaos met her SO there.) But I digress..

Even on NP.com, a discussion of M-F relationships leads to the eternal "Why do you think you don't have a Man" threads, with more common themes...

I'm too strong, too independent, too aggressive...
too picky - if a guy f&*$'s up, he's outta here...
the thought of being hurt (again) scares the ISH outta me...
i have trust issues...
I've been hurt before, so now i take things really slow...

So, these ideas, along with my falling in & out of Like within a matter of about 24 hours, got me thinking. Is there a huge difference between being a bag lady, and revealing evidence of your scars?

Let me clarify though - we all have scars. Anyone who has ever been burned by any relationship - love, friendship, family, etc. - bears them. I used to think the trick was to let them heal completely, clean it well to prevent it from infecting your whole psyche, let that scab form without picking at it (take a break from whatever relationship it was), and let that scar form. I always thought that once healed, unless someone deliberately re-opened that same wound, that scar would be fine.

Unlike baggage, which just stays with your a$$, until you either check it, or unpack it. I mean, if you have a recurring issue, like for instance the trust issue, until you really analyze it (unpack), figure out what's the root cause (clean, iron & fold) and then attempt to resolve the root cause (put away) - that baggage is just going to keep cropping up. Like that unclaimed bag on the revolving belt at Hartsfield.

But man - the unclaimed baggage is like an epidemic. I swore off dating repeatedly, and was about to again (and still may). So did the person I'm in Like with. So have many others. But that's avoiding the issue. I mean, introspection is cool and all, but at some point, you have to get back on that pony & ride, right? In order to learn that particular lesson - you've got to pass the pop-quiz, that says "hey, are your scars healed?"

I have scars, true. My most evident, most painful emotional scar is my inability to tolerate even the slightest emotional infraction - without cutting the perceived perpetrator utterly & completely out of my life. I am fully aware of this. And I'm trying very...very...very hard to overcome it. It's been quite the struggle, and I'd be lying if I said I've made substantial progress. I've waffled between being an emotional "giver" and unable to say no, to making myself a martyr, donning my ninja gear, and pulling a Kill Bill move on some unsuspecting victim. They never even saw it coming; meanwhile, I'm thinking "yeah right - c'mon - you HAD to have a clue".

But I know that neither "solution" is getting me any closer to a real resolution.

So, an open statement to anyone reading this who may feel emotionally victimized:
I apologize if my actions hurt you. While I know I put my emotional baggage behind me, and I believe my scars have healed, I also know that I'm a work in progress.

And to anyone reading this who sees the opportunity to victimize me:
Don't get the above line twisted. My vision isn't that skewed. I will still cut a m***a-f***a for trying to get over on me. It's best that you come sincere to me, or don't come at all.

My heart is open wide, but my head is still screening applicants. Have your resume & references ready, kna'mean? And I will check both. Meanwhile, I'm running these practice exams to death, to prep for that big emotional test...

...at least I hope that's what this is, and I'm not running into walls for the hell of it.

I dunno - I'm just rebelling against the idea of the 4th. Reparations Now! We're still slaves of the capitalist machine!!!!

oh, ahem - excuse me. Y'all are looking for the B12, right? Here goes:

Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.

1. I refuse to watch the fireworks on the grounds that it may incriminate me. And it's gotten boring.


2. However, I will admit to watching the Andy Milonakis show. Which is LOL funny, in a stupid a$$ way. Click here for a sample.


3. Free concerts in the park, free amusements in mall parking lots...S. Fulton is on the come-up.


4. Peach is the new brown, which was the new black, which definitely trumped the old pink. Todd, are you following any of this?


5. I'm in Like. Let the doves loose.


6. Staying in Like is hard as hell when you're scarred...


7. I decide that scarred != baggage. Post to follow. And != means not equal, for the non-geeky...


8. ...speaking of geeky, started studying for my Java cert. Anyone that wants to help or study with me - holla.


9. I have SLAB! That's right y'all - theDirt has become theSlab! They may make the new date after all.


10. Made mental peace with my new job assignment. After some Skyy. And lots of meditation.


11. Hammy's over his pool aversion. Mommy should be afraid...very very afraid. I'mma haveta get that boy some swimming lessons. Or an inflatable rubber duck ring.


12. ...okokok. I did watch a lil of the fireworks display from my front porch. And not just the gunfire across the street - I could actually see an "authorized" display from my house. That + some ribs != me celebrating.

collage
Originally uploaded by saga_30311.

My coworker came to work the previous week with a faux-hawk/fro-hawk: cornrows in the direction of the center of her head, with the rest of her 'fro loose & curly. Very cute, 'specially she looks like a model.


So, in honor of her brave style, and because I was feeling inspired...AND rebellious (in a "I hate my job" kind of way) - I decided to put the bantu knots in and dare anyone (old boss, new boss, HR) to say something to me! I just KNEW I was gonna have to choke a bich.


Hm. That so backfired. My new boss was so impressed, she wanted to see if I could do her hair. Old boss was completely non-plussed. The HR person did do a double take, then saw that my shoes & pants were also violating the dress code, and just kept it moving. He probably thinks I just don't give a flip. He'd be absolutely correct. Oh well.


I did have to head one of my former coworkers off at the pass. I was talking to another former boss and a colleague, and this guy walks up and goes: "So, is this the hairstyle, or....?" and I just cut him off before he even finished his sentence: "Yes, this is the hairstyle. Not the prelude to the hairstyle. Not the prep for the hairstyle. This is it. It'll be this way the rest of the week, if you want to take a picture. Meanwhile, I'm not taking it down." He mumbled something about it being cute, and walked off. Think I stole his thunder?


The other pics - the lighter ones, are the result of my taking it down. How cute is that? I posted both the bantu knot and the takedown instructions in flickr - click the pic or link to access it. Meanwhile, I need to come up with a more rebellious hairstyle. Sheesh...lol.