Last weekend I went out to lunch with my aunt and a woman we met recently, Pat. She is pretty nice, but I get the feeling she might be a super Christian. And no, I do not have a problem with Christians. I consider myself one, although I have been known to be a bit...half-baked at best. No, by super I mean extremist. I have the feeling she may be an avid Fox News watcher.
We actually had a pretty good lunch until I, being the nosebud that I am, asked her if she had kids. She said she had two. She asked me if I had any, and I said no. She asked me if I wanted any, and I said, no. This is all my fault. I should have learned by now that whatever the situation, whoever the person, always say you want kids to a person that already has them. It cuts down on a potentially uncomfortable conversation, and, somehow, it just seems rude not to.
Well, after I told her I did not want children, I saw that look on her face and immediately tried to take it back. So I fell back on my old reliable: "I don't want kids right now." She was not convinced. I simply sat back in my chair and waited on whatever whopper she was going to hit me with.
"I did not think that I wanted kids either," she told me honestly,"until God blessed me with two."
I let out a sigh of relief...but she was not done.
"But you see, God wants us to be fruitful and multiply. If you don't, you are just being selfish."
I looked at this woman, this petite, sweet woman, who has been "blessed" with two kids...and I had to fight the urge to laugh! Whatever! It was evident to me that this lady wouldn't have had kids herself if she had not have been "blessed." Give me a friggin break! Note to readers: married people, people with kids, they are always looking for people to join their fraternities of misery. Don't believe the hype people, don't believe the hype.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Friday, January 22, 2010
The Sad Truth
A few nights ago I spoke to my friend Jamaica and she was all mixed up about this marriage thing. It seems that once you turn 24, the bitter marital world tries to push you over the broom, whether or not there is an eligible bachelor within miles of you or not.
Anyway, she was annoyed. Like me, she is a firm believer in love; however, she has become an adult, without her permission, and a combo of the outside pressures, a lack of fellas, and tightly knit career plan time crunch has her wondering if love is needed and/ or worth waiting on when corporate America is telling you that you have two years tops to make it and your gynecologist is telling you that you have ten years before the fruits of your womb are down syndrome candidates. Figure in time for a good old-fashioned courtship. Stressful right?
Then, just a few days ago, I talked to my guy pal P and he believes that men should be allowed to marry one than one woman. It's not sexual, he claims, because women outnumber men by huge numbers. The men would be doing us a favor see, giving as much of us women a taste of marriage as possible. Me being a feminist, this did not sit well with me. But P broke it down like this: I could happily let my husband have more than one baby mama or sit and pretend not to see him having sex with desperate women at clubs. He even went as far as calling me selfish for not being willing to share my mate.
The point of these two tales? How are we as people in our 20s supposed to be prepping to tie the knot when we are not even on the same page? Listening to my stressed out male and female friends I find that whether you are in the "no time to wait" school or the "bundle of wives" school or somewhere in between, I am noticing less and less talk about love; more and more about business and convenience. Is this what marriage has become, or was it always this way and we were just too busy watching Disney movies to notice? Either way, I think I will wait for the real thing...unless my gynecologist advices otherwise.
Anyway, she was annoyed. Like me, she is a firm believer in love; however, she has become an adult, without her permission, and a combo of the outside pressures, a lack of fellas, and tightly knit career plan time crunch has her wondering if love is needed and/ or worth waiting on when corporate America is telling you that you have two years tops to make it and your gynecologist is telling you that you have ten years before the fruits of your womb are down syndrome candidates. Figure in time for a good old-fashioned courtship. Stressful right?
Then, just a few days ago, I talked to my guy pal P and he believes that men should be allowed to marry one than one woman. It's not sexual, he claims, because women outnumber men by huge numbers. The men would be doing us a favor see, giving as much of us women a taste of marriage as possible. Me being a feminist, this did not sit well with me. But P broke it down like this: I could happily let my husband have more than one baby mama or sit and pretend not to see him having sex with desperate women at clubs. He even went as far as calling me selfish for not being willing to share my mate.
The point of these two tales? How are we as people in our 20s supposed to be prepping to tie the knot when we are not even on the same page? Listening to my stressed out male and female friends I find that whether you are in the "no time to wait" school or the "bundle of wives" school or somewhere in between, I am noticing less and less talk about love; more and more about business and convenience. Is this what marriage has become, or was it always this way and we were just too busy watching Disney movies to notice? Either way, I think I will wait for the real thing...unless my gynecologist advices otherwise.
Monday, January 11, 2010
The Age Old Question
"Can boys and girls just be friends?"
This was the question that my friend Slim posed to me not too long ago. This question was surprising to me because I was pretty sure that everyone knew that they can not be. I have not seen a boy platonically approach a girl (unless he was gay) since kindergarten. It just doesn't work!
I say this from experience. No, no relationships have formed out of my boy-girl clusterfucks, but I have wanted them to. Unlike my good friend Slim poses, I did not seek out to become the gal pal of numerous tall, dark, and handsome brothas, hoping that they would want to be more than friends. Because of an incurable disease I have, I become friends with a man, he tells me his life, he's nice to me, and I fall in love.
And yes, my Slimesque friends, I acknowledge that this is my problem and not the guys'.
I asked a few girl friends how they felt about the situation, and it was clear that they were all jaded. Most of them sited examples of some of their relationships with "friends" where there is no hanky-panky. This is, of course, a joke, because in many of the cases, the boys in question have told me that they want more.
I guess that there is no problem with keeping a crush on a boy bud a secret. Crushes can be refreshing, especially in the spring when there are rainbows and birds are singing. But you will eventually want to say something, especially if the boy in the duo gets a not-so-platonic friend.
Listen, this type of situation is the WORST. Watching a person you love love someone else is a quick and easy way to get a case of the broken hearts and sadly, it is unavoidable. It has happened more times to me than I would like to admit.
So what does the friendgirl do in these situations? Well, I have found it productive to cry, while others grit their teeth and nod at the endless new girlfriend stories.
This is so confusing ya'll, seeing that all my life I have been told by female elders to become friends with a man before I get involved with him. But then, if he doesn't like me back, I have essentially set myself up for the fall.
Well, maybe there is hope. After all, I had a HUGE crush on my friend Slim...well, before I heard him having sex with a girl, which slapped me down to reality. Hopefully, this is not the way that the "I want to be more than friends" cycle is broken. Don't think I have the soul to go through that again.
This was the question that my friend Slim posed to me not too long ago. This question was surprising to me because I was pretty sure that everyone knew that they can not be. I have not seen a boy platonically approach a girl (unless he was gay) since kindergarten. It just doesn't work!
I say this from experience. No, no relationships have formed out of my boy-girl clusterfucks, but I have wanted them to. Unlike my good friend Slim poses, I did not seek out to become the gal pal of numerous tall, dark, and handsome brothas, hoping that they would want to be more than friends. Because of an incurable disease I have, I become friends with a man, he tells me his life, he's nice to me, and I fall in love.
And yes, my Slimesque friends, I acknowledge that this is my problem and not the guys'.
I asked a few girl friends how they felt about the situation, and it was clear that they were all jaded. Most of them sited examples of some of their relationships with "friends" where there is no hanky-panky. This is, of course, a joke, because in many of the cases, the boys in question have told me that they want more.
I guess that there is no problem with keeping a crush on a boy bud a secret. Crushes can be refreshing, especially in the spring when there are rainbows and birds are singing. But you will eventually want to say something, especially if the boy in the duo gets a not-so-platonic friend.
Listen, this type of situation is the WORST. Watching a person you love love someone else is a quick and easy way to get a case of the broken hearts and sadly, it is unavoidable. It has happened more times to me than I would like to admit.
So what does the friendgirl do in these situations? Well, I have found it productive to cry, while others grit their teeth and nod at the endless new girlfriend stories.
This is so confusing ya'll, seeing that all my life I have been told by female elders to become friends with a man before I get involved with him. But then, if he doesn't like me back, I have essentially set myself up for the fall.
Well, maybe there is hope. After all, I had a HUGE crush on my friend Slim...well, before I heard him having sex with a girl, which slapped me down to reality. Hopefully, this is not the way that the "I want to be more than friends" cycle is broken. Don't think I have the soul to go through that again.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Birthday Breakdown
On December 18, I had my birthday party. It was at this amazing hotel downtown with a perfect view of the city. Sadly, everyone RSVPed and hardly anyone came. However, I was not saddened by this. The people I loved most came, my friend Felisha came from out of town and brought this awesome natural girl along, and I had food left over. Some people called out, others didn't. I just have the feeling that many didn't want to pay for parking. Which is sad but understandable. Downtown Atlanta parking on a Friday is a mess.
Yesterday, on my actual bday, I went to the mall, had lunch with my Atlanta Felisha, and went to go see The Princess and the Frog. I was excited to see a black princess, although the last Disney movie I saw in the theatre was The Lion King, so sadly, I kind of dozed off for five minutes during the movie. That night, I bought a marble cake and some vanilla ice cream, stuck two huge number candles in it and made a wish. Can't tell you what the wish was silly. That's against the rules.
I kept myself busy for my birthday as to not start feeling down. I always have a birthday shindig, but very rarely am I happy for my bday. I do believe that I will be that post-menopausal woman that cries on her birthday, because I am damn near in tears when my bday rolls by now in my twenties! My positive friends see each year that passes as a blessing. As a positively negative person, I see each year that passes as a reminder of all the things I have yet to do and all the things I need to do.
At the gym the other day I told a sistah, who is maybe in her mid-40s, that I am turning 25. She told me that I am in the prime of my life. I am hunched over my computer surrounded by boxes, loose pieces of paper, and clothes. I know that I am in my heart, but forgive me if I don't feel like it.
Yesterday, on my actual bday, I went to the mall, had lunch with my Atlanta Felisha, and went to go see The Princess and the Frog. I was excited to see a black princess, although the last Disney movie I saw in the theatre was The Lion King, so sadly, I kind of dozed off for five minutes during the movie. That night, I bought a marble cake and some vanilla ice cream, stuck two huge number candles in it and made a wish. Can't tell you what the wish was silly. That's against the rules.
I kept myself busy for my birthday as to not start feeling down. I always have a birthday shindig, but very rarely am I happy for my bday. I do believe that I will be that post-menopausal woman that cries on her birthday, because I am damn near in tears when my bday rolls by now in my twenties! My positive friends see each year that passes as a blessing. As a positively negative person, I see each year that passes as a reminder of all the things I have yet to do and all the things I need to do.
At the gym the other day I told a sistah, who is maybe in her mid-40s, that I am turning 25. She told me that I am in the prime of my life. I am hunched over my computer surrounded by boxes, loose pieces of paper, and clothes. I know that I am in my heart, but forgive me if I don't feel like it.
Movin' On Out
Ugghh, the stresses of moving.
For about two weeks, I have literally been wading through all my belongings in my compact room, packing things in between naps and tossing things over my shoulder that I don't know where to put. Seriously, the only thing I can think of more stressful than moving out is moving in.
My fam is leaving our current abode to move into a smaller yet more chic house not too far from this one. But doing so has proven to be a MAJOR headache. For one, everyone is packing at different speeds and seemingly nothing is getting done. Two, it is truly exasperating looking at all of the things that I have accumulated in nearly three years since graduation.
For the most part, mostly everything I brought from college was in a trunk that was literally on its last wheel. I replaced it with an x-large storage tote and was saddened to see all the things I'd stuffed in the trunk: old stories and grad school applications, books that I was supposed to read in school, didn't, but that now look oddly interesting. Man, how time flys.
I don't know about you, but procrastination has been biting me in the rear since I was a toddler. Getting a look at all of the things I was supposed to do made me want to crawl into the storage container myself! There is so much I need to get done but now, so many years later and it being during the holidays and me being on my period, I really don't have the energy to do anything. Yet the New Year is on its way, and although I usually suck at resolutions, I have decided to kick the procrastination demon to the curb. I have got to pack, study for the GRE, study my driving manual, start my grad apps, and do a whole lot more that I can't think of right now. But the point is, I am mentally determined, if not physically so, to get some stuff done. And I shall, I shall...after I finish blogging and lay down for a minute.
For about two weeks, I have literally been wading through all my belongings in my compact room, packing things in between naps and tossing things over my shoulder that I don't know where to put. Seriously, the only thing I can think of more stressful than moving out is moving in.
My fam is leaving our current abode to move into a smaller yet more chic house not too far from this one. But doing so has proven to be a MAJOR headache. For one, everyone is packing at different speeds and seemingly nothing is getting done. Two, it is truly exasperating looking at all of the things that I have accumulated in nearly three years since graduation.
For the most part, mostly everything I brought from college was in a trunk that was literally on its last wheel. I replaced it with an x-large storage tote and was saddened to see all the things I'd stuffed in the trunk: old stories and grad school applications, books that I was supposed to read in school, didn't, but that now look oddly interesting. Man, how time flys.
I don't know about you, but procrastination has been biting me in the rear since I was a toddler. Getting a look at all of the things I was supposed to do made me want to crawl into the storage container myself! There is so much I need to get done but now, so many years later and it being during the holidays and me being on my period, I really don't have the energy to do anything. Yet the New Year is on its way, and although I usually suck at resolutions, I have decided to kick the procrastination demon to the curb. I have got to pack, study for the GRE, study my driving manual, start my grad apps, and do a whole lot more that I can't think of right now. But the point is, I am mentally determined, if not physically so, to get some stuff done. And I shall, I shall...after I finish blogging and lay down for a minute.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Dodging George
Curious George just texted me, asking if I could talk...It's 8:45 a.m. and he is texting me to ask if I can talk.
When I decided to call this guy, I thought that it would be good to have a dude to talk to as I sorted through Sorta, but I was turned off by our last convo. Wanting me to come see him? We have not spoken in two years!
Yet, since then, he has been calling me non-stop; even using that little paging option from your voicemail that no one uses. He texts me to see if I'm busy. I'm not. But I don't want to talk to this guy. And I feel bad. I'm thinking maybe he didn't mean to come off as oversexed and weird, but I don't know. I feel bad for not being into him.
Last night he left me a sappy message. He was like, "What's up? I've been calling you for like two weeks."
See! This is why I feel bad. How many times have I left that very message on a guy's phone, wondering why he was not calling me back after a seemingly amazing conversation? I feel like an asshole. He seems really interested. Why can't I be interested back?
This is a clear instance of me trying to fight against my gut feeling again. The night we spoke, my gut feeling was telling me that this guy was just lonely and wanted some ass, at the least from someone vaguely familiar. But I have to say, I'm not down of that nonsense. But I am not used to being the denyer in these situations.
So I guess I will just follow my heart and continue to ignore this guy. Maybe, like I had to on many on occasion since the 6th grade, he will get a clue.
When I decided to call this guy, I thought that it would be good to have a dude to talk to as I sorted through Sorta, but I was turned off by our last convo. Wanting me to come see him? We have not spoken in two years!
Yet, since then, he has been calling me non-stop; even using that little paging option from your voicemail that no one uses. He texts me to see if I'm busy. I'm not. But I don't want to talk to this guy. And I feel bad. I'm thinking maybe he didn't mean to come off as oversexed and weird, but I don't know. I feel bad for not being into him.
Last night he left me a sappy message. He was like, "What's up? I've been calling you for like two weeks."
See! This is why I feel bad. How many times have I left that very message on a guy's phone, wondering why he was not calling me back after a seemingly amazing conversation? I feel like an asshole. He seems really interested. Why can't I be interested back?
This is a clear instance of me trying to fight against my gut feeling again. The night we spoke, my gut feeling was telling me that this guy was just lonely and wanted some ass, at the least from someone vaguely familiar. But I have to say, I'm not down of that nonsense. But I am not used to being the denyer in these situations.
So I guess I will just follow my heart and continue to ignore this guy. Maybe, like I had to on many on occasion since the 6th grade, he will get a clue.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Babies Go Bye-Bye
I went to Staples the other day and ran into a girl that I used to work at Popeye's with in high school.
I hated that job so much that when I usually see someone from that chapter in my life, I go in the opposite direction. But this girl, we will call her "Candi," was nice. She never gave me any problems. I just remember her being very loud and ghetto.
She looked about the same. However, she had kicked the elaborate weave ponytails and huge earrings to the curb, so she looked a bit older. And she was sitting down as she rang people up, which indicated to me that she was pregnant.
I asked her where she was living, and she told me the projects. That made me sad. I don't know how the projects are in other cities, but the ones that have managed to remain open in Atlanta SUCK!
Then I went on to ask her how many kids she had and she had to count on her fingers. I was thinking, "Tell me she hasn't had so many babies that she has lost count!"
Not the case at all. She was trying to refresh her memory to add how many abortions she has had and how many babies she actually kept to tell me how many times she'd been pregnant and no, that is not what I asked her.
"I have one and then I'm pregnant now, but I have been pregnant (counting on fingers) maybe five or six times."
I stared at her blankly as to not say anything offensive such as, "What?!"
But I guess my face said something because she went on to say, "Girl, I couldn't have five kids runnin' around!"
Living in the projects and working at Staples I had to agree. Yet the whole situation made me sad. Why was she offering this information up so easily? I know girls who have found themselves at the abortion clinic that have not even told their parents, nevertheless a person they have not seen in six years!
She seemed happy to be pregnant this time though, rubbing her long acrylic nails over her little baby bump as she helped me find the packing envelops. I can only pray that next time around, she can find some cost-effective birth control.
I hated that job so much that when I usually see someone from that chapter in my life, I go in the opposite direction. But this girl, we will call her "Candi," was nice. She never gave me any problems. I just remember her being very loud and ghetto.
She looked about the same. However, she had kicked the elaborate weave ponytails and huge earrings to the curb, so she looked a bit older. And she was sitting down as she rang people up, which indicated to me that she was pregnant.
I asked her where she was living, and she told me the projects. That made me sad. I don't know how the projects are in other cities, but the ones that have managed to remain open in Atlanta SUCK!
Then I went on to ask her how many kids she had and she had to count on her fingers. I was thinking, "Tell me she hasn't had so many babies that she has lost count!"
Not the case at all. She was trying to refresh her memory to add how many abortions she has had and how many babies she actually kept to tell me how many times she'd been pregnant and no, that is not what I asked her.
"I have one and then I'm pregnant now, but I have been pregnant (counting on fingers) maybe five or six times."
I stared at her blankly as to not say anything offensive such as, "What?!"
But I guess my face said something because she went on to say, "Girl, I couldn't have five kids runnin' around!"
Living in the projects and working at Staples I had to agree. Yet the whole situation made me sad. Why was she offering this information up so easily? I know girls who have found themselves at the abortion clinic that have not even told their parents, nevertheless a person they have not seen in six years!
She seemed happy to be pregnant this time though, rubbing her long acrylic nails over her little baby bump as she helped me find the packing envelops. I can only pray that next time around, she can find some cost-effective birth control.
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