Improve your gaydar!!!

I'm on vacation until the 7th. I really need to fine better things to do with my time! Today, I wasted time with Tyra. Today's topic: The science of gaydar.



Tyra's guest was a controversial doctor who claims that there are tell-tale signs that can used to prove a person's sexual orientation. A few of the methods are, of course, based on stereotypes that we all know, i.e., the pitch of the man's voice, the way he walks, the activities in which he engages. However, there a few that I had never heard of. Such as:

1. the "whorl" of a man's hair. Apparently, the direction a man's hair grows in can play a factor in his sexuality. If the hair grows in clockwise, he is usually straight, counter-clockwise, gay. However, one of the test subjects hair appeared to grow in both directions. Does that make him bi-sexual or on the down low?
2. the length of his fingers: if the middle finger is longer than the pointer finger, the man is usually straight. If the pointer finger is longer or the same length as the middle finger, possibly a gay man.

Needless to say, this is not an exact science. One of the guys on the panel loved outdoor activities such as fishing and hunting, activities normally attributed to a straight man, and was gay. I realize that stereotypes are stereotypes for a reason, but hell, a "science" based on stereotypes. It seemed a bit insulting.

I did not realize...

...that there is a disease that can actually turn your skin pigmentation from black to white. Seriously. I always thought that it was Michael Jackson's excuse for all that terrible plastic surgery. More info here. Maybe Jacko isn't as troubled as I thought???

I got a hybrid

Well, for the day anyway. One of the few things that I like about my dealership is that they offer free rentals when they perform service on my car. What I do not like it that something as simple as an oil change requires me to rent a car in the first place. It takes them that long to get to my car.

Anyway, as the woman is filling out the paperwork for my rental, I notice the alarm switch does not have a key. Strange, I thought. But then again, maybe the key is in the car. So I mosey on down to the service lane to the car and look for the key. But the there is not key. Not even a key hole. Just a button. Ok, how do you start this damn car? I got an attendant to reluctantly help me out. To start the car, you need to depress the brake, then press the "Power" button. Then trust that car is actually on. You can't tell initially as the gas engine doesn't kick in immediately. That bothered me a bit. No initial pickup. I have a V6 engine in my car. I'm used to serious acceleration.

Once I got the car on the highway, it was pretty smooth. The acceleration got better but obviously not as nice as the acceleration of a V6. The car gave a constant read out of the average gas mileage. I managed about 35 MPG. I could be wrong, but it looked like as I drove faster, the more the gas mileage went up. Could that be my excuse if I got pulled over by the cops?

Officer: Umm, ma'am. Do you realize that you going 80 MPH in a 55 zone?
Me: Sorry for speeding officer but I was doing my part to help the environment.
Officer: Excuse me?
Me: This is a hybrid. The faster I go, the less gas that I use, the better for the environment.

It would be a unique excuse anyway.

African, African American or Black American

Another thing that popped into my mind as I was writing the previous blog entry, I came across an article a little ago about the term African American.

An African professor had recently became an American citizen. He was at a forum where the subject of race determination came up. I don't remember the entire story and, of course, now I can't find the article. In summary, he considered himself an African American. The others in the forum, mostly black people born and raised in America, did not agree with him.

In the 80s, there was a push by many of our black leaders at the time to use the term African American to describe ourselves, to give us a geography, to give us heritage. There has been some debate now as to who can technically use the term. I always thought that those of us that were born and raised here could use it as well as those that immigrated here from Africa and became legal citizens. Much like Koreans that become American citizens are Korean American, Japanese Japanese American, Mexicans Mexican American, and so on. However, according to this group anyway, that does not apply with Africans.

After thinking about this a bit, I figured that part of the reason for this discrepancy has to do with the fact that there are Africans who are of fair skin tone. Take a few actors, for instance. Charlize Theron was born and raised in South Africa. Her first language is Afrikaans. Daniel Bonjour is another white South African, born and raised.

So I guess the questions come: is the term African American about heritage or about color? Or did it start off as being about heritage but then transformed into being about race? Is the term only used for black people born and raised in America or can African immigrants use the term as well, albeit the fact that there is such a thing as a white African?

Good and Bad Hair

I was too young at the time to realize the point that Spike Lee was making with this musical number. Black is beautiful in every shade, right? At least it should be.

One of my fellow bloggers had talked about racism outside of our race. But what about the internal racism?

Either we are too light or too dark. The lighter sisters are told that they are not "black" enough or that they are trying to be white, as if they had a choice in the pigmentation of their skin color, unlike Michael Jackson, of course.

Either we are first generation African in America or we are Black Americans, several generations beyond our African roots. I have found, in my experience, that many Africans that have immigrated to America, especially African women, do not seem to care for us Black Americans. One young lady went so far as to say that Black Americans cannot be trusted. It appeared that her impressions of us was based on the white media, which, no matter what they say, is incredibly biased.

"Can't we all just get along?" Although not the best role model for the black people, Rodney King had a point. There are enough outside forces working against us as it is without us tearing one another down.

The first snowfall of the season...

and, as usual, drivers in the Maryland/DC area totally loss their ability to drive. There is barely anything sticking to the ground, visibility is barely impaired and yet there are traffic jams left and right. Of course, slow down and drive for the conditions. But damn, nothing was moving. I came across a few accidents on my way. One looked as if the driver was totally unaware that snow on the pavement can melt and refreeze, causing a hazardous condition. Especially on an overpass. Probably going too fast for conditions. Looked like a 180 into the overpass wall.

I'm thinking the traffic jams are more due that influx of people thinking they need to leave earlier to reach their destinations on time. But I think that just puts more people on the road at the same time, causing the clogging of the every major traffic artery.

After trying two alternate routes to get to work and barely getting anywhere after 40 minutes, I said fuck it! Called my supervisor, told her to forget about seeing me this morning. At the rate I was going, I MIGHT have gotten there by noon. I have a 45 minute commute on a good day. It just wasn't worth it. Get to work by noon, stay at work until 5pm, and, more than likely, sit in two to three more hours of traffic on the way home. No thanks!!!

Need a pickup line?

Then crack open a fortune cookie. Yes, you heard me. A fortune cookie. Fortune cookie makers have apparently decided that the wisdom of Confucius is passe.

After kicking ass in my karate class, I gets a bit hungry. I hit the local "Chinese" food joint for a box of shrimp fried rice and a fortune cookie. My fortune for the day: "Are your legs tired because you have been running through my mind all day." Okay, not only do I get an old pick up line, but an absolutely lame pick up line. Any man that uses this pick up line probably needs to be alone. That has got to be the corniest pick up line uttered.

I wish I could remember the other pick up line fortune cookie that I came across. It was still lame, but slightly better than the one that I just mentioned. Maybe they will get better? Who knows, fellas. Maybe you should take your next date to the local "Chinese" restaurant and crack open that fortune cookie. Maybe you'll get lucky. Or smacked. My bet is on getting smacked!

Cover song gone wrong

Now, I'm all for different genre versions of songs. There was the country version of Brian McKnight's "Back at One", Whitney's R&B version of Dolly Parton's "I Will Always Love You". I suppose they went over well. But this one. Imagine, if you will, a folk version of Nelly's "Hot in Herre". Better yet don't imagine, watch the video below...



She also has a song called "Fuck Was I Thinking". After listening to her version of Nelly, I couldn't help but wonder, "what the fuck were you thinking?"

So maybe I overreacted a little

Early this morning, around midnight, I was startled by bright lights suddenly going off. I initially thought that the street light had gone out. I went to the window to check it out. Turns out that there is a large SUV parked directly in front of my house. A person starts get out of the car, but then gets back in. And sits there for about 20 minutes. I wouldn't have been so alarmed, except that I did not recognize the SUV and in the neighborhood that I grew up in, someone parked in a car on our block at midnight usually meant the person was shooting up or getting a blow job.

So, in the interest of my neighborhood's safety and in my annoyance with that big ass SUV parked in front of the house, I called the non-emergency line. Didn't get an answer. Thinking that I had the wrong number, I looked around for another number. About 15 minutes later, found the number online. Now all this time, the SUV is still sitting there. No one has gotten into or out of the car. I call the second number. Still no answer. I figured I just take my paranoid ass to bed. But then the phone rings. My tax dollars at work.

I explained the situation, unknown, suspicious SUV parked late night. Fifteen more minutes go by. Someone finally comes to the car. I should have known. It was my next door neighbor. Better stated, the employees of my next door neighbor. Motherfuckers. They're always taking up the parking in front of my house. The shitty thing is that most of time, there is plenty of parking in front of their own house. As it was this morning.

Just as they were about to pull off, a police car pulls up. About 5 minutes later, a second one. They were held up for twenty more minutes before they finally pulled off. I'm pretty sure that they know that it was me who made the phone call. On more than one occasion, I have had to ask them to move their cars. They were probably cussing me out the next day. But maybe their inconsiderate asses might think twice about parking their big ass, broken down, noisy, pieces of shit cars in front of my house.

It's going to be a bitch this winter if we get any significant accumulation of snow. I'll be damned if I dig out a parking space in front of my house just for those inconsiderate bitches asses to park in. I won't be having any of that shit this winter without a fight! So if ya'll hear about a black woman going crazy over street parking in front of her house on the news this winter, you heard it here first.

Freaky Flexibility

This kind of flexibility is just plain freaky. My first thought was Dhalsim from the Street Fighter video games.

Is it true, Nas? Is hip-hop dead?

I originally posted this on my myspace blog about a year ago. After reading Cat's blog post about the current state of hip hop and R&B, it brought to mind this post and I figured I'd post it here:

-----------------------------
I don't listen to hip-hop the way I used to. I don't find it as moving or inspiring as it used to be. As a child raised on mostly jazz, soul and rhythm, when I first discovered hip hop, I thought is was just a fad.

Around the time of Run DMC, I was in middle school. I remember on the playground one day, an eighth grader had made the declaration that "Rap music will never die!". I thought he was crazy. I was thinking, that wasn't real music. I was in love with the music of Michael Jackson and Prince, Al Jarreau and Grover Washington, Jr, Steve Wonder and Luther Vandross.

Then, something changed. I was listening to the radio one afternoon. The DJ was mixing some song called "Tramp" and there were women rapping. I think up until this point, I had never heard a female MC, let alone two. This was groundbreaking for me. I had to find out more.

I brought my copy of Salt N Pepa's "Hot, Cool and Vicious" and listened to it constantly. I went to school to declare my new found love only to have a 4th grader cut me down. "You late!!! That album is old!!!" I think that I was in the 6th grade at the time. I was already having younger people tell me how incredibly "un-hip" I was.

Then I found MC Lyte and Queen Latifah. Roxanne Shante and The Real Roxanne. Some helped define and brought the true favor of hip hop, some just faded away. Some just simply had no business putting out a record in the first place (Does anyone the group Le Trim??? If Hilliary Banks of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air had a rap group, Le Trim would have been that group.)

Eventually, I got off the women's lib tip and opened my ears to all of rap. It has gone through so many evolutions in the pass few decades. It has endured and been accepted by the masses. And that's where it becomes a mixed blessing.

The hip-hop music that I hear on the radio and on the videos have this cookie cutter approach. There isn't much that is different. There isn't much that stands out. Because being different means risking dividends. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that people are making money. But the money just seems to stifle creativity. And the music lovers are subjected to the same 16 songs in a row, every hour, on the hour on the radio. Needless to say, I don't listen to the radio much. I remember when radio was the best place for hearing good and new music.

So, is hip-hop dead? I would like to think not. But it has got sucked a bit too much into popular culture. I believe that there are still many purveyors of the hip-hop vibe that I grew to know and love; Common, Talib, The Roots, just to name a few. And I have come across a few here on myspace. It's still alive. TRUE HIP-HOP WILL NEVER DIE.

Jon & Kate plus 8

This is a reality TV show on TLC.

The couple, Jon and Kate, were having trouble getting pregnant, so they, of course, turned to the use of fertility pills. They were blessed with twin daughters. But for some reason, two children were not enough for them. Oh no. They figured "let's try again for one more". So they get on the fertility pills again. This time, not one, not two, but six, sextuplets. Personally, the first two would have been enough for me. Fertility pills have been known to cause women to birth a litter. So why take that chance? My husband thought that maybe it was the husband's, Jon's, idea. He probably be wanted a boy to carry on the family name. Whatever. If that was my husband, he would have to get over that, unless by some medical miracle, man was able to give birth. In the opening credits, there is a picture of Kate pregnant and it's just unbelievable. It looked as if her stomach was below her knees!!! I'm sure she was on bed rest most, if not the entire time.

The sextuplets are now three. I believe the older twins are 5 or 6. Whatever they are, they are old enough to be in school, leaving Kate with six toddlers take care of during the day. Jon is an IT tech and works during the day. Work is probably like a mini vacation for him. I'm a mother of ONE and that can be a handful. I cannot imagine having to deal with 6 children all day, everyday. I would simply lose it. There would be no 'me' time, I am simply too selfish to not have 'me' time. Even with Jon and Kate together, there is never a moment's peace. In one of the episodes I saw, Kate was having a fit because Jon was taking too long to get dress or something. She had to have known that man was hiding. He wanted a little peace and quiet, if even for a minute. The last episode I saw was Mother's Day. Kate went to the spa. She kicks backs and talks about maybe after 4 days of the spa, she'll be ready to come home. Wishful thinking!!! But, when she does get home, she talks about how nice it is come home to a "classroom of kids".

I like kids. Kids can be fun. I might even consider having one more. Might. But eight! The sextuplets are 3 now. Wait till they become teenagers. And I don't want to think about college tuition. Ouch!!! Jon will be working until... pretty much forever it seems.

Judgemental People

Everyone has their opinions. I can respect that. But some people take it way too far. Dr Phil had a show on judgmental people. There was the man-hater, the woman hater, the morally righteous, the guy who is against everything about society, the woman who hates her own race and the woman who hates ugly people.

I think the one that bothered me the most was the black woman who hated other black people. Her racial self-hatred was based on all the stereotypes that has plagued the black race for years. True, there are black people that fall into those categories. I've definitely met a few. However, I have met many more beautiful, black women who are far beyond any black stereotype that you can think of. They are successful, they are intelligent, highly educated, productive members of society.

The next really annoying one for me was the morally righteous, holier than thou chick. She embodied every reason why I am not a fan of organized religion. First all, she made the statement that her whole purpose for being on the show was to make people conform to her point of view. She wasn't willing to listen to anyone else, damning anyone to hell who drank, cursed, had sex before marriage, had body piercings or tatoos. As she preached to everyone that she walked into and damned them to hell, she couldn't understand why anyone would disagree with or simply ignore her. Then what got me was how much of a hypocrite she was. She was caught on tape dropping f-bombs. The mother of all curse words. She claimed to not have had intercourse, however, she did admit to dry humping and heavy petting (who the hell says that anymore), basically, Clinton sex. I'm sorry, raised as a Catholic, I was told all that was wrong. She doesn't sound any closer to heaven than the rest of us heathens. What absolutely turned me off from her, like everything else wasn't enough, was the comment she made about an ex-boyfriend of hers. The ex-boyfriend cheated and got another girl pregnant. The child was born mentally retarded and she felt that he got what he deserved for cheating on her. Can you believe that? How could anyone, especially someone as religious as she claimed to be, wish that on anyone?

The male chauvinist pig...well, what can I say. They wasn't much that came out of his mouth that didn't piss me off. He must not think much of his mother to have such shitty opinions about women.

The other three would easily get on one's nerves but at least they seemed willing, on some level, to admit that they had an issue and was trying to be open-minded enough to work through those issues. The man-hater had to admit that maybe she was attracting the wrong men. The "ugly people" hater saw that she was trying to attack people they had the chance to attack her.

Well, as they progress through their time in the Dr. Phil house, I hope they can gain some insight into themselves. Realize that not everything or everyone in the world is all black and white. Although, I don't have much hope for the religious zealot. She is in his own world.

Waste of energy

I don't know why I allow certain people to waste so much of my precious energy. But there are people that just know how to press my buttons I guess.

For example, I'm in this online social group. But I find myself complaining about the organizer of the group more than socializing. There is something about the way that she responses to my group suggestions that she disagrees with. Her responses are long, drawn out dissertations about how she has given my suggestion all this thought and every conceivable reason that she can think of as to why she feels that the suggestion will not work out for the group. Initially, I felt her response to be a bit condescending, like she was trying to put me in my place or something. That stirred something up in me. I felt like I had to strike back. So we went back and forth a little until I came back to my senses and realized how it was an incredible waste of time and energy. There wasn't anything there to gain on my part. That group is pretty much her party, the group members should feel honored to be invited (HA!).

The bottom line is the group doesn't really work for me. I have a problem with the narrow focus, the lack of variety in the activities and the vice grip control she has on the group. There are so many unspoken restrictions. If a group member's suggestion does not revolve around food, it doesn't seem to even be up for consideration. She claims that she is open to suggestions, but it sounds more like lip service. If she doesn't agree with the suggestion, it is stopped flat. There is no opportunity for discussion among the group.

Let me just save myself some grief!

Two of my biggest Baltimore pet peeves

For the most part, I am okay with Baltimore. But there are two constant reminders of why my ass will probably be staying in the suburbs.

Dirt bikes:
I don't care how many times the police claim to crack down on this, those damn dirt bike riders always seem to re-emerge. The other day, I'm driving down the way, and not only are these fools driving in and out of and between lanes, they are driving DOWN THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD!!! I wish that 4Runner in front of me would have just hit his stupid ass and sent him flying a half a mile down the street. Didn't even have enough since to wear a helmet. The next day, I leaving from my mom's and two kids on a dirt bike, barely big enough to hold one of them, takes a corner too fast and almost hits my car. At least these geniuses had on helmets.

Those annoying flashing blue lights:
If you been in Baltimore lately, you know the ones. They are so flipping annoying at night!!! And I don't quite understand what good they are suppose to do. I still see the occasionally drug deal go down, right under the flipping light!!! Gives blue light special a whole new meaning.

Being an agnostic improves your sex life

Okay, maybe that's debatable. However, it did wonders for me.

The thought popped in my head after reading a discussion on Facebook. Someone posted a discussion topic, titled "Why aren't you a born again Christian?" Besides the normal things that usual come to mind when I think about some (I admit, not all) born again Christians (biggest hypocrites, an excuse to alienate people, closed-minded), I thought about sex. Many born-again Christians that I have come across must be some of the most sexually repressed people that I have ever met.

A friend of mine way back used to date a girl with some very high religious beliefs. She was in her early 30s at the time and was a virgin. Her virginity wouldn't seem so bad if she wasn't so frigid. She was ice cold when it came to anything remotely sexual or sensual. After one make out session, she felt so guilty, she threw away the clothes she was wearing that day. That was too much for me. Mind you that this was a woman in her thirties, not some little teenager. Well, that would have put quite a dampen on the relationship if I were in his position. But not for him. Oh no, he married this girl. It took about 2 months, but he finally got her to give it up. She never seemed to get any less frigid. I suppose their love is deep enough to weather a lifetime of uninspired sex.

Just a rant

I HATE my commute!! 45 minutes of dealing with assholes refuse to drive with some common courtesy!! Every slow driving mother sucka in the state must have been driving today! Scratch that, most of the ones I ended up behind was from out of state, Delaware, Pennsylvania, and some other damn state that I can't remember. All of them in front of me. Driving as slow as possible. I know they saw me in their rear view. All they had to do was get out of the left lane. That's it!!! If you are not trying past anything, why the eff are you there, driving 55 in a 65 zone?? What is wrong with you? Just because you have all day, doesn't mean that I do.

Finally, off the beltway, one traffic light from work. Try to make the left. I get this fool who afraid of the intersection. He finally pulls out for the turn. I start to follow behind him. Then he stops. WTF?!?! We are both in the intersection. The light has turned yellow. He still isn't moving. Then I noticed what might have made him stop. Some girl trying to cross the street against the light. She hasn't even stepped off the curb, what's the problem? Maybe he was waiting for her so that he could hit her. Asshole. I ended up driving around him and almost got hit in the process, because, of course, that is when he decided to finally move.

What a effed up way to start the day.

Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,

Ok, got that out of my system.

Into the Wild

This book was recommended to me by someone on a message board. About a third of the way through the book, my opinion of the subject, Chris McCandless, was pretty negative. He initially just seemed rebellious against his family and their wealth for no particular reason. He just wants to get away from their apparent control of his life and live his own path. Many young people, especially upon their 18th birthday, feel that they are ready to take on the world. Their youthful naivety leads them to believe they have all the answers, that they know a better way. I know I felt that way.

As I read on, however, I realized that he wasn't the typical young man. He may have been a bit too stubborn for his own good. He was probably too smart for own good as well when it came to his adventure. But I got the impression that this adventure was truly about trying to find himself, to find his true measure as a man, challenging every aspect of his being. Maybe for him, that meant to take on the adversities of the wilderness. Man against nature, is that the ultimate contest?

But in the end, nature proved to be a fatal adversary. Chris would not make it out of the wild alive. Many have called him foolish or crazy, going into the Alaskan in-country ill-prepared. Others have glorified his adventure, seeing it as the ultimate freedom.

I don't think that Chris was necessarily foolish or crazy. Just a bit stubborn. He knew he was risking his life. He knew that there was a chance that he wouldn't make it out of the wild alive. He willingly accepted that chance. I get the impression that if he didn't take this chance, rise to this challenge, then he would have went on with his life not really living or feeling his life. I know that there are many people in this world that can relate to this. Maybe their challenge isn't whether or not to go into the wild and live off the land. However, there's that one thing that you always wanted to do, that passion that drives you. But for whatever reason, real or imagined, you give up on that passion and live a rather pedestrian life because "it makes since" or "it's what everyone else is doing". Chris refused to live that life.

Resident Evil 3 - from a philosophical view

I saw Resident Evil 3 this past Saturday. I enjoyed the movie, however, not quite as much as I enjoyed the first two. That is sometimes the way it is with sequels, especially by the third one in the series. And from the way this one ended, the makers are not closing the door on the possibly of a fourth. Until the infamous Umbrella Corp is ultimately shut down, I suppose the story could continue, indefinitely.

In the movie, if you haven't followed the video game or the movie series, the human race faces extinction due to the rapid spread of a virus which turns its victims into flesh-eating undead. The few survivors left try to continue to be on the move to avoid infection from the undead creatures, to find supplies and other survivors. They also try to remain hopeful that human life can prosper once again.

That got me to thinking. In the face of pretty much certain death, in the middle of a wasteland, why would anyone want to survive? The United States, the world, was left absolutely wiped out of any form of intelligent life. No food, no water, no essentials to sustain life as we know it at all. And then, to top it all off, there are carnivorous walking dead looking for fresh flesh. Now, I would think that the likelihood that the undead would inhabit the earth is probably slim to none. But there are other threats in our world that could devastate our world just as quickly. Natural disasters, nuclear holocausts just to name a few threats the I can think of off the top of my head. I would think that the lucky ones died on the onset of the devastation, not the few that survive. The survivors are left to hell on earth, chaos and mob rule. Survival of the fittest would never be more true. If the human race was up for extinction, would there really be any reason to try to survive? I realize that there is such a thing as that survival instinct but what is the point if there is nothing to survive for? No food, no water, no companionship. None of the components that allow for human existence.

I realize that it is just a movie. I don't know why these thoughts get into my head.

The things that really matter

After my last post, the universe must have thought that I needed to reframe thoughts. I watched the movie "The Lookout" yesterday. It is a heist movie, centers around Chris Pratt, who, four years previous was in a car accident from which he suffered a moderate brain injury which affected some of his motor skills and his mental capacity. Before the accident, he was hockey hero in his town. He is having a difficult time accepting the fact that he may never have the life he had prior to the accident. He ends up getting mixed in with a group that use him to rob the bank where he works. It was a pretty well done movie. The characters were well developed and well acted. It's rare to get both in Hollywood these days.

I felt so drawn to the main character. I could not relate to him, in terms of the brain injury. However, I felt I could relate in his difficulty to accept change and to realize that even though things may not always go as planned, things can get better and that there usually things and people around you to be thankful for.

I'm having one of those moments,...

...one of those self-pity moments, when I feel just plain shitty. I start thinking about where I am in my life. It's not exactly where I pictured I'd be right about now. I start thinking about all the paths that I could have taken, what could have been but knowing that I will never know. And everything time I start to feel this badly and down on myself, LMS haunts me.

LMS is the initials of a friend that I had in middle and high schools. We were pretty tight for some strange, unknown reason. She had, and as far as I know, still has a very stuck up, self-centered, materialistic personality. I'm pretty much plain Jane and practical. We had an oddball friendship. Opposites attract, I suppose. In 1996, the friendship pretty much came to an end after I choose to spend time with my brother instead of attending her graduation. Mind you, she didn't tell me about the graduation until a few hours before the graduation was to happen. I suppose I was to immediately drop everything and come racing to her graduation. Had she had some sort of emergency and needed me to help her in some way, I would have made any and every attempt to help her. But I know that she knew about that graduation in well enough time to give me more notice. So self-centered.

So, anyway, the breakdown of the friendship started a year before that over another incident. I shelter some of the blame in that situation, however, she was not blameless in her handling of the problem. Looking back, I still feel like we could have better resolve the problem. Instead, I really started to see things about her character that I didn't like. Her whole attitude towards me had a since of fakery. Things that other friends told me that they felt about her, it was all clear now. In my heart, I knew the friendship was going to end. I think that I just wanted to hold on because I wasn't ready for that change. And there were so many devastating things going on in my life at that time. I felt I had no one to talk to. I felt that there was no one there for me at all.

Whenever I weigh myself down with what ifs and shoulda, woulda, couldas, I always get overwhelmed with that dark period in my life. I start thinking about LMS and I start thinking that maybe I'm not a good enough person to get what I truly deserve. I hate thinking that way. I hate knowing that after 11 years, I still allow that bitch to enter my thoughts and make me feel as if I'm inferior, like I can never be a good person or a good friend.

In retrospective, I know that our friendship ending was probably a good thing. Continuing to be her friend would have probably required me to have virtually no life or friends outside of her. I still hate the way it ended. She didn't have to hurt me the way she did. It was so unnecessary. But if I was as selfish and self-centered, I wouldn't have given it a second thought either.

So here I am, sitting at the kitchen table, pondering my life, wondering what to do next. It seems so impossible to move forward to the that life, that happiness that I know that I deserve. But I can't give up now.

What's the big deal with virginity?

I don't know why I listen to advice talk shows. Especially, Christian advice talk shows. I just don't get some of these callers. They call in with such ridiculous so called tragedies of faith. But the ones that get me are the ones on virginity, specifically female virginity.

A gentleman calls in, a bit distraught, that his girlfriend of four months was not a virgin. To his credit, this wasn't the only issue, however, it was quite a big one in the relationship. I didn't catch the exact ages, but I believe that they were both at least in their twenties. He has obviously made his girlfriend feel bad about her lack of virginity because he mentioned that she has apologized to him. I'm thinking "for what?" Why is she apologizing for something that happened before their relationship began? I am so sick of women being berated for not being a 100% pure on their wedding day. Most men definitely are not virgins when they get married. In fact, most women have resigned themselves to ever finding a man who is a virgin.

I just don't get it. Shouldn't we be the ones experimenting and discovering what we want? Let's face it, for the most part, it really doesn't take much to get a man off. Insert, thrust, repeat. Women, on the other hand, we require a bit more finesse. Way more finesse.

Single life in Baltimore

Ok, I have to say, upfront, that this is a topic that I have limited knowledge of. For most of my adult life, I've been with someone. Not necessarily a good thing. In fact, maybe it's better to spend some time and get to know yourself before beginning a life with someone else. Early on, I spent too much time in relationships where I got sucked into someone else's world before I truly defined my own.

In any event, most of what I know of single life in B-more has been vicariously through single friends and acquaintances. It seems no matter if the person is male or female, they all say the same thing: there are no good potential mates in Baltimore city. Nada.

The men are either too thuggish or not thug enough, not educated or low ambition. The women are too boogee and high maintenance, lie too much and seem to have no clue what they really want.

I think that it would be too short sighted to just blame the location. Baltimore has its shortcomings, plenty of them. But Baltimore is not unique. I've heard from people in different locations. There seems to be a lack of marrying material no matter where you go. I think most people are looking too much for absolute perfection. No one out there is perfect, at least not for long.

Would you leave your lover for another?

A few weeks ago, my husband and I was watching some daytime talk show. Probably Montel, or something else that we had no business watching on our day off. The topic of this show was something along the lines of would you leave you current lover for a past lover. One woman announced emphatically,

"HELL YES!!! If John came back into my life, then it would be all over for me and Brett."

Well, damn. Poor Brett. He has been dating this woman for two years, and if John ever comes back, so sorry for you, Brett. Who cares about your feelings?

I didn't hear why her and John broke up to begin with. Maybe it was the great body, the romance, the status, the sex. Whatever the reason, this person held a place in her heart eternally. To the point that this person could come in at any point in her life and pick up were they left off.

I can't relate, because for the most part, my ex-boyfriends were pieces of shit. Well, with the exception of one.

So, the question came up between the hubby and me.

ME: "So, are there any women in your past life that you would consider leaving me for?"
HUBBY: "Nope."

silence

HUBBY: "What about you?"

Now, for some reason I thinking how could he ask me a question like that, even after I boldly decided to ask him.

I think for a quick second, and then respond, of course:

ME: "No."

Then I started thinking again. Like I mentioned before, there was only one of my ex's that I would even consider marrying material. But it got me to thinking why it ended in the first place.

My 33rd and random thoughts

I will be 33 this month and I'm already having a senior moment. I couldn't even remember the stupid password and username to this blog. I suppose that means that I need to write more. But I hating writing at home these days. I feel too censored. He, the hubby, has this annoying habit of reading over my shoulder. I cut on the computer and poof, there he is behind me. Let something come on to the screen that looks questionable, there he is with tons of questions. I just hate having to explain everything I am doing on the computer, especially those things that are of little to no consequence. He'll ask me about shit that I know doesn't interest him at all. It's that I'm on the computer and he's nosy. It's irritating, especially if I am concentrating on one thing and asking several questions about another. I figure I need to move the computer to a less public room. At least I might get less of it.

Well, back to my 33rd. I'm not too sure what to do with self. Last year, I went to a club, got drunk off mojitos and passed out at home at 4am. I was probably sleep before my head hit the pillow. I probably won't be able to get away with that again. That was while I was separated. This year, money is a bit tight. I was thinking about going up to the mountains, but between lack of funds and lack of motivation to drive anyway further than 2 hours, that made be put on hold. Normally, I don't do squat. I take the day off to either do nothing or a bunch of errands I wouldn't be able to do otherwise.

Wedings...

I hate weddings!!! Well, at least weddings that appear to be nothing but a big show. Which is what I was subjected to this weekend...a big show.

The wedding was supposed to begin at 3:30pm. Most weddings run late and this was no different. The wedding didn't actually start until 5:00pm. My husband and I arrived around 4:30pm, anticipating a late start. Now, although the invitations said 3:30pm, I couldn't help but think that the wedding was actually supposed to start at 5:00pm. The cameraman and videographer were not completely in place yet. I later find out that this was the bride's plan all along. She didn't want anyone to walk in late for her performance. Had I been there on time at 3:30pm, by four, I would have been out the door.

The ceremony was nice, just a bit over done for my taste. And looooooooooong. It may have been only an hour, but that hour just seemed to drag to no end. When it finally did end and the wedding party left the church, the pastor called the wedding party back into the church just so he could preach a bit and recruit for about 10 minutes. Now, I realize that may be the only time that some of us heathens are going to set foot in the church, but is a wedding really the time to start recruiting for new members? It's more of a turn off for me. I hate being preached to. I hate having religion thrown in my face.

We get to the reception, about 6, 6:30pm. Of course, the wedding party has yet to arrive. They are off at the waterfront taking pictures. The guests are left to stand around and nibble on cheddar cheese and sip bargain basement liquor. I thought that I could at least get a liquor buzz. Shit, not off these watered down drinks. We weren't allowed into the reception room until the bride and groom arrived, which didn't seem to make much sense to me. Shouldn't we all be seated when the new couple make their grand entrance? Almost two hours later, the couple finally arrive. About damn time! We can at least eat now, right? Actually, we wait again, about another half hour. During the wait we are subjected to the requisite speeches from the best man and the two maids of honor. I didn't pay much attention, too busy looking for my plate of food, except for a comment made by one of the maids of honor...something about "liking it from the back". And the comments she made about the groom...she stopped short of telling the bride that she would take the groom if the the bride didn't treat him right. With friends like that around, it will be interesting to see how long the marriage actually last.

Finally, dinner is served. Or did we actually get the leftovers? Seriously, each table of ten people was served two lousy platters, one with vegetables and potatoes and one with spinach stuffed fish and flank steak. Fish and meat on the same platter seems like a no-no to me. Both the fish and meat was dry. There was a little gravy on meat in an attempt to cover that fact. The vegetables and potatoes were okay, but since we had to share with the table, there wasn't much to go around. It felt more like a snack than dinner. I can't believe they paid $65 a plate for that. I wonder how many people went out to McDonald's after that B.S. dinner. It was time for me to go. I was done.

In the end, I hope the bride got the wedding that she wanted. It was, after all, her day. But one would think that she would have had a little bit of consideration for the guests. It felt like one big ego trip.

High School Reunions

I can't believe that is has been 15 years since I graduated from high school. I don't feel that old!

My graduating class was pretty small, less than 100 girls (all girls, Catholic school). Over the years, I've stayed in contact with only one on a regular basis. A few years back, I got nostalgic and decided go back to the old school at an alumna open house. I was a little disappointed to see that only one other girl from my graduating class in attendance, unfortunately, not one that I was cool with back in the day, so we really didn't talk much. But I saw several from the class of '93. There was even a few from the class of '74. Seeing the group from the class of '74 intrigued me the most. For one, they were a group of black women. Why would that strike me? This school has always had a predominately white student population. When I went to school there, there may have been, maybe 10-15 of us out of about 96 students. So, I guess I assumed that there were far fewer than that in the '70s. The other thing was they were talking like old friends, not like old classmates that just happened to come to the 30 year class reunion to see a bunch of people with whom they would not normally socialize. So, I sat and talked to them a while. I made a comment about the fact that I was surprised to see a group of black women from that school still friends after so much time. They came from a '70s black pride frame of mind. For them, it was important to stick together. Over the years, aside from the school reunions, they have had their own reunion of sorts, a couple of times a year. That inspired me a bit.

I attempted to get in contact with a few of the black women with whom I graduated. I was able to contact three, not including the one that I have been in contact with the entire time. One of the women was one that I was good friends with in high school, but had a falling out with after college. Two of the three responded very positively. The third, the one I had a falling out with, had previous plans. That was fine, but I got the impression that she felt that I should coordinate the gathering around her schedule. Now, I'm thinking that I contacted her in plenty of time, but she took her sweet time with getting back to me. That's my fault? I don't think so.

Anyway, four of us got together for a little cookout at my mom's house. We had a pretty good time, catching up with one another. I hoped to do something like this maybe once or twice a year, alternating hosts and slowly, but surely connecting with more former classmates. However, I suppose that it wasn't fully meant to be. People stopped returning my phone calls. That was enough for me to lose interest. I would say that black pride is not as hardcore in the '90s as it was in the '70s. I would say that, but in our case, it is probably is just as simple as a lot of us just didn't get along.

Afterwards, I came back to my initial feelings about high school reunions. I will probably never, ever go to one of mine. There really isn't that many people from my graduating class, if any at all, that I am dying to see or are dying to see me. All of us have grown up and moved on. I'm sure there are a few of us that would prefer not to ever, ever, ever be reminded of their high school years. I am a bit indifferent. While my high school years were not the best years of my life, they certainly was not the worst. I still think the best is yet to come.

Negativity

If I didn't believe it before, I certainly believe it now. Way too much negativity can block creativity. Especially lingering negativity. It just exhausts the energy needed to create anything. Why do we waste so much time dwelling in negativity? It's just so easy to do! It is much easier to piss and moan on something than it is to let go. Some grudges are just not worth holding on to. Easy to say, hard to do.

I find myself too many times falling for the temporary comforts, whether the occasional drink, sweets or pleasures of the flesh. I'm not an addict in the traditional definition of the word. But sometimes, I feel as if I can relate. More often than not these days, I just want to get away.

I need a new laptop

That piece of crap that I brought a few years ago has been nothing but a pain from the day I purchased it. It was such a good deal, though. $999 with $300 rebate. But two things should have made me make better use of my charge card. First, it was a Celeron. Second, the brand name. I will never buy an E-machine again. I knew better. But my frugality got the better of me. So, now, I need a new laptop. I've been using my desktop computer, but I am beginning to need the freedom of a laptop. The freedom to write in this blog without the peering eyes and nosy questions of my husband. The freedom to take my computer into the single most place for writing my best thoughts; the bathroom. One of the few places that I can be alone in my house. I take a few dumps and no one wants to use the bathroom for at least 30 minutes. Alone with my muse. It's a wonderful thing.

I'm thinking about going Mac for this laptop. With its ability to dual boot, I figure if there are any Windows programs that I have to have, I won't have to abandon them fully. I am patiently waiting for Leopard to show its spots. Unlike Vista, there appears to be added functionality in Leopard that could actually be useful. The Stacks function on the Dock stood out for me, considering how cluttered I can leave my desktop. The new Quick Look feature stood out to me as well. Having a quick "snapshot" of a file instead of opening the application associated with it first would save a lot of time.

Well, that's it for me for now. Keeping my fingers crossed. Hopefully, I can get that new Mac by the end of the year.