I am officially a homeowner. And the feeling is so overwhelming right now, that I can't even describe it.
For now, all I can say is that I am truly blessed - and that my testimony is that I asked God to just show me His will, and He has, and the blessings rained down on me tenfold - more than I would ever have asked for or imagined.
I had a lovely dinner recently with Mia (theQueen), and JoJo (theDancer) - and as always when single (or semi-single) women get together, we did talk about men. Particularly, theMan - theOne we've either let get away, or are trying to find.
lamenting in the henhouse:: Alright, I know what you're thinking, and it's partially true - if u get single women together, they tend to talk about dating. But it may not have gone down like you think it did. I'd hate to call it whining or lamenting, because that wasn't exactly it. It was more like - hm - giving definition and/or clarity to that murky visual you see next to you.
See, it went like this. We were actually just chatting about general stuff, catching up, etc. And it just so happens that a) JoJo's soon-to-be-ex husband joined us late, unannounced, and b) Mia's new beau called, to see if she wanted/needed anything and c) this made the soon-to-be-ex uncomfortable enuff about his own lack of consideration/commitment to make a hasty retreat. Which got us all to thinking about what that dude on the left would look like.
You know this cat, btw. He's the man we'd put together, if we could crop all the best parts of the men we admire together. Let me 'splain.
corporate thug?:: He's got to be able to handle biz in the streets, office, and sheets. But, before you visualize Tupac or 50 Cent in a Brooks Brothers suit, think again. We (women, generally) want someone we can rely on to handle biz if necessary, but smooth enough to finesse his way out of a street situation, without looking like a punk. Or sacrificing his family, woman, dignity, integrity or people while doing it. Thug lovin' may be a nice catch phrase, but it isn't long-lasting, because it always ends up dead, doing a bid, or finding another bird (sorry Vivica, but you shoulda known better).
He's gotta bring those street smarts into the boardroom though. And also bring that same swagger, that same confidence, that same finesse, that same knowledge, and that same integrity. The things I admire most about my black male colleagues is their ability to just stand up, perform, and excel - while not sacrificing any part of their lifestyles, their dignity, or their culture. Self-assurance and self-knowledge is way sexier than grillz or 20's, any day of the week.
Bellini's use of pu$$y as a subtext?:: Culture people! It's not just a seven letter word. I mean, a date at Dave & Buster's or the Buckhead Backlot is cool, but show me something. Teach me something. Present me with something that you love, and not just because it's popular. Challenge me. If you like obscure graphic novels drawn by Pete Woods, or Australian shiraz, or driving down to Tybee Island to go fishing, or modernist furniture by Mario Bellini, or Alexander Desplat's work on "Girl with a Pearl Earring", or shirts made by Paul Smith, try not to hide it. Flaunt it!
Hell, if you're addicted to playstation, domestic beer and porn, try to engage me and get me interested. Ever seen a lil movie called Love, Sex and Eating the Bones? Ok, then you know - porn addicts need loving too, and you've got a much better chance of getting some a$$ if you show me your dreams, than if you show me your porn collection. Ok, I'm being facetious - it's not that easy. But my theory is that if you go on a date, and share something one/both of you are really passionate about, a connection can be made, and if not - at least you had a good time doing it.
man up, revisited:: nothing inspires passion more than passion, especially showing your passion for your own values. (hunh? da hell is she saying?) In analyzing the last year's worth of dating flubs vs. the guys we're really feeling, Mia, JoJo and I found a trend. The guys that were passionate about their values - their families, their children, their work ethic, their honesty, their balancing lifestyle vs. work - those were the guys that made the most lasting impressions. Passion, in its many forms, is oh-so-sexy. It's even sexier when associated with a value system. If ________ (fill in the blank) is an important part of your life, then shout that from the rafter...we're SO feeling that.
Oh yeah, and let's talk about übersexuality, shall we? Just in case you hadn't gotten the memo, metrosexuals are definitively OUT. Androgyny is very 2005 (2004 even). We want manly men - men with facial hair, who are unafraid to at once burp, and express their feelings, unequivocally. Aight, I'm exaggerating - but we ain't feeling brothers who spend more time at the salon than we do. Manly men, who dig women, but hang around with other manly men, and still care about the world - oh yes! Give me one of them, please. Grooming is good, but so is having a full life. And a beard. (aight, Mia and JoJo want you to know that's just my prefernce...lol)
diamonds in the rough:: demanding, ain't we? Nope. We've learned that we're multi-faceted though. We're juggling the role of career-woman, mother, wife, community activist, spiritual leader, sista-girl, teacher, etc...etc..etc..ad infinitum (nauseum). Our interests have expanded, our responsibilities increased, and we've excelled in these newfound roles, swimmingly. And in doing so, we've gotten more selective, and begun to really analyze the types of men we've been meeting/dealing with.
We (generally, not just us 3) want our men to step up into our stratosphere. Not that we think we're "all that", but we know our worth. And we know the worth of our men as well. I know guys complain that when women get a lil education, money and/or status, that we also get overly-demanding. I don't think that's true. It's really more that, we know what men are capable of, and we see this potential that men aren't realizing in pursuit of the next piece of a$$ (or $$$, or drama, etc). We want them to grow into the wonderful beings we know they're capable of becoming. And no, we do not want to "change you". If this isn't who you are, don't front. Just be you, without limiting yourself to your background, your perceived cultural boundaries, or other's perceptions of you. And try to stress less about sharing that with us.
it's al love thoug:: (edit) I beat up a lot of men here, in detailing my dating mishaps. Thing is - I love men. LOVE them. And I'll say it in a heartbeat - I love the way men walk, talk, think, breathe, smell, function. Love being in their company, and love observing them - 'specially when they think we're not looking/listening. An ex of mine loves to read my posts and tell me how "angry I sound". Probably true, but my anger is borne out of love & frustration, and I'm not alone. We (generally, not just me or us 3), realize that brothas are better than the media, popular culture and even some of the brothas themselves make them out to be. Knowing that, why should we (all, us 3 generally, and some men themselves) settle for bullshyt?
Is this a new "renaissance man"? Are we all looking for men like "our dads"? Yes, and no. My father was a hustla - without slanging anything illegal, without breaking any laws, and without hurting anyone. He just knew how to treat my mother like being his wife was something very special, treating his kids like they were also very special, while providing for his family by any means necessary, and staying true to who he was. Listening to Grover Washington, wearing Lagerfeld, and smoking a pipe in his dinner jacket while he did it. A jack-of-all-trades, and master of one. Love. If that means that I've got an Oedipus Complex, and want to marry someone just like my father (responsible, hard-working, multi-dimensional), then Yes damnit - I do!
ETA:: much thanks to Keyzer Soze for the inspiration. He's an exceptional person, and I'm glad he's raised the bar higher. He knows who he is....
Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.
let me be succinct...
Despite some unfortunate incidents, I'm still feeling rather joyous. I don't know if it's because me and my fam are cool despite those incidents, or because I've got a few days away from theGig, or if it's just because the sun rising keeps reminding that the world keeps on turning. I ain't even gonna keep questioning it.
I'm gleeful, and to celebrate that glee - I'm not cooking a big a$$ dinner. I haven't fought mall shoppers for Christmas parking spaces, refuse to get stuck in Atlanta's gawd-awful christmas traffic, and don't have the ends to break the bank spending New Year's money. I'm not going to break my neck & back, cleaning my house til it's spotless, and pulling out the good china.If I cook, I'm inviting my friends and fam over, to collectively make Christmas tapas, followed by Christmas cookies, opening a few presents, and sharing some good cheer.
It's definitely a van der Rohe Christmas. And I like it that way.
As I type this, I'm somewhat at a loss for words. My daughter, theChaos, was recently a victim of a home invasion. I can't say much about it, except to say that she's ok, and that she knew her assailants. As do I.
So, instead - I'm writing this open letter to her assailant, and any other previous/potential assailants in the universe, considering engaging in the act. I invite them to first think...
More outraged than surprised, I held her in my arms
too tightly
allowing her pepper-spray laced tears to sting
my eyes
watched the manhood in her man
swell proportionately
and tasting the copper-laced flavor
of vengeance
in my own mouth
I mentally checked where I last laid my arms, preparing to bear them again
but the sage in me knows
that fear doesn't inspire respect
that conflict doesn't resolve problems
that war is not the answer
that my pride in her ability to stand up
is tempered by my mama-worry that something will knock her down
that pride goeth before a fall
that being conscious is about understanding your own truths first
as much it is being aware of things around you
that you cannot put faith, fate or respect
in the hands of someone who has none and doesn't believe in any
that while some causes are worth dying for
an impedence is not worth a 20-year bid
that this hurts, so much worse
coming from "one of your own"
that while I'd cut off my right arm to save my baby
I'm not trying to bury anyone, or put money on anyone's books
that as I'm thinking this, someone out there will come to a decision
different than mine
and the outcome will be bloody
and that my daughter's life
is worth more
than satisfying the thirst for vengeance
so I mentally laid my arms down
© 2005, Sagacious Media
My most sincere, fervent, passionate wish for this Christmas, is that this conflict ends with no further violence.
this is not my ex:: despite anything I've written to the contrary (like the FL Chronicles, parts I, II and III), FL isn't a two-headed, fire-breathing dragon. He also isn't only an abusive, selfish child, or neglectful parent. He's a man. A normal man (if there is such a thing as normal), with his own flaws and faults. I've done him a disservice by only telling the bad side of his story.
We had a long heart-to-heart, over some braised wings and chinese donuts. and despite the Brown Sugar soundtrack playing in the background, there was no relationship reunion. There was however, closure. And that was peace...
the askew view:: we talked, about being friends, and coparenting, and about him trying, despite the dirt we both did, to be my friend. I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat, at his use of the word "friend", as it related to me. See, every time he talks about us being friends, we have a "SanaaLathanMoment". He always refers to the first time he fell in love with hip-hop, when I taught him there was more to rap music than Kilo Ali and too short, and his life was forever changed. Suddenly, he was listening to Biggie, Nas and Wu-Tang, eating weird chinese food, and wearing button down shirts and khakis with pleats.
But that's not what I remember about our relationship. My memory of our relationship is of drama, and pain. And blood. I sat there as he talked, trying hard to pull one, unsullied happy memory out of the time we were together. And I could only really pull out one: Me, belly swollen, wearing a pair of brown jodhpurs, his Karl Kani shirt, and some boots. I was about 7 months pregnant, and I was fine. Foine. He'd woke up that morning, worshipping my big belly, rubbing it and talking to our son. He made me breakfast in bed, and left me a love note in my lunch, asking me to meet him at Run & Shoot after work, so he could play basketball. I walked into the gym, feeling fine and loved, and two other brothers tried to holler at me, swollen belly and all. I responded, that someone was loving me good, but I appreciated the attention. They already knew - it showed. FL caught a glimpse of me walking in, and beamed at me with pride. That was love.
It's official - I'm celibate again.
theMaintenanceMan:: yes, I "employed" a guy a few months ago. He liked me, but wasn't qualified for full-time "theMan" status (personal issues). Wait, let me set the record straight on this phenom. If you're a man, and you're a decent guy, stable, with "potential" (the potential to be the marrying kind), chances are you'll never be the maintenance dude. Most women decide, within 30 seconds of meeting a man, whether he has "potential' or not. This may change later, but yes - it's that initial impression. If you meet her minimum qualities (whatever they are, and it depends on what she's looking for), then you can't be the maintenance man.
So, my maintenance man tends to disappear when I have real life issues. Like when Bessie (my truck) isn't working. I understand the nature of our relationship, so I know he'll turn back up when things blow over. But that doesn't mean that it doesn't bother me. So, when Bessie started running hot last month, and he vamped, I figured it may have been a sign that it was time to chill...
JC:: I get a call, outta the blue. JC's monthly check in, and I'm not expecting anything out of the call, but he surprises me when he asks "so, are you seeing anyone else yet?" I know better than to entertain that question, but it does surprise me when he answers his own question: "I don't have the right to ask you that, so don't answer that. I just wanted you to know, I miss you and I love you. I gotta go." And he hangs up on me.
theMessage:: I was reading ManNMotion's post about celibacy, and it struck a chord. I know what I want, and fooling around with theMaintenanceMan isn't going to get it for me. To get the kind of love I want, the type of intimacy I deserve, there's a walk that has to accompany it, and right now - I'm not walking that path. But, you know I am hard-headed as all get out, so I still don't completely "get" it...
theSign:: I'm talking to EJ about music, and I don't know how we segued into bloggers that saga is secretly lusting after (sssshhhh...I ain't tellin. Suffice it to say that my blog husband wasn't #1 on my list.). Frankly, I think I steered the convo in that direction. Anywhoo, at 12:00 midnight, no sooner do I then type out my top 3, that...
*blip*
my laptop goes black. completely black. No power surge, no outage, no noise. Just black space. AND it won't immediately come back on. Two resets, and some fiddling with my powerchord, and my first words when I log back on with EJ, are:
saga_30311: that's it - it's official. I'm celibate (again)
it's that simple. I want the whole nine, and I refuse to settle. and it's time.
Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.
when I think of home...
Ok, I'd like to promise that I'm going to stop talking about the house - but I'd be So lying. 
fa la la la la...la la..la...la!
So, even though I know it's Christmas, I had other things on my radar, and was kinda not ackowledging the season, yanno?! But, in the true (read: greedy) spirit of the holiday - I'm sharing my wishlist:
Now, I know some of y'all will look at some of those prices and go dayum - she has lost her whole mind. I got a tip for ya - sort list by priority ;-) While I do want those cowboy boots by Jojo (in a size 10 or larger, don't let the list fool ya) and a digital camera, I am reasonable...I know that the only person that will buy me the Calvin Klein purse is ..someone who is eternally special in my heart, and whom I will be forever indebted to... :-D
Ok, lol - do ya thang!
theMiniRant:: my coworker forwards me an email, that summarizes the idea behind this op-ed piece that appeared in the AJC. The synopsis: being smart carries a cultural stigma in the black community, and it's the parents' fault. I immediately jet into tirade mode, and complain about this being unoriginal, and untimely - having all been said 30+ years ago. I mean really, isn't this part of Bill Cosby's Brown speech? My coworker calls me extra (she probably meant egregious), and tells me if I think I can write better than that (I can), I need to put up, or shut up. But, it did get me thinking, pretty hard, about issues. Issues in general. And this bandwagon cause syndrome, that plagues the black community. Which issue is topical now? That's it - The ISSUE - let's all get incensed about it, and throw resources at it, to solve it. Or at least look like we care, because The ISSUE is important! The DL, the Closet, the Misogyny in Hip-Hop, the Cheater, the Teen-Pregnancy...give me a break, ok? But it does stick in my head, like a pebble in an oyster...
fight the power:: I got involved with efforts at work, to start an affinity group. Not my idea, but I think it's a good one, so I help draft some general guidelines for the group, and a mission statement that solidifies what we're trying to accomplish. It was a thing of beauty, I tell ya - and the verbiage was beautifully shaped to shield theGig from any potential reverse-racism accusations, or potential lawsuits. Man...that thing got rejected, like Vince Carter going up for a layup against Ben Wallace. Yeah, we're still trying to recover, so I'm looking for more info about affinity groups, and anyone currently involved with organizing one at work. Meanwhile, I've taken my Public Enemy shirt out of retirement, and wear it underneath my banker's stripe corporate (prison) jumpsuit.
love, lust and lies:: I've got a new guilty pleasure/obsession - Michael Baisden. I listen every afternoon, as my coworkers and I call each other during rush hour, to comment on today's Issue. "Girl, they are tripping today...are you listening to this?", "Dayum, did he just say that o the radio...?", "Oh hell naw...I can't talk to you right now...let me try to call in, because that was some straight bullshyt they just said..." Mind you, as Michael says occasionally, some of the stuff that is said is some straight "fraginackle bull". But - it's got us all thinking. And talking. And even if I don't agree with a lot of what is said on the show, or the spirit in which it is said, I respect not only the show's staff (Mr. Baisden included) for airing these issues, but I also respect the business paradigm created by the show. It makes good business sense, the show promotes his sites and events, and the sites promote/support the show, his books, and movies. But I digress...
Bakers Dozen c/o KB via ej.
it's been a long, weird weekend:
I'd say that's it. But it's MORE than enuff - almost too much. Whew.
I pray for the day when this becomes an afterthought..when a cure is so readily available that it can be bought over the counter, and charitable organizations across the globe distribute it freely in impoverished regions like the Sudan, Rwanda and Burundi. Unfortunately, today is not that day.
While the story belongs to all of us to share, it's not my story to tell. So Just read...
Bejata's World AIDS Day: The Facts.
The new 2005 AIDS epidemic update from UNAIDS and WHO.
ONE.org's World AIDS facts: STOP AIDS: Kepp the Promise
Bejata's World AIDS Day: A Personal Perspective.
bejata's World AIDS Day: Across the Blogosphere (a list of other blogger's raising awareness about the AIDS epidemic)
Posithiv+ : A photographic documentary of the issues of HIV/AIDS in Sub-Saharan Africa.
World AIDS Day dot Org
Light to Unite - light a candle and BMS donates $1 to the cause.
...and spread love y'all. Safe love.
