This was my response to a blog post I read this morning. It's seems random and maybe it is but I decided to share anyway because I still think it's funny.
I pride myself on my ability to wear high heels on a regular basis and do it well (with the exception of the one time my beloved heels led me to the most embarassing/funniest tumble I've ever taken)! I remember it like yesterday although in actuality, it was almost five years ago. I was in undergrad and leaving class when I realized I left my umbrella. So, I, along with a friend, went back to get it. I suppose my feet got ahead me and the heel of my favorite Nine West shoes got hung in the cuff of my black wide leg pants. I stumbled for what seemed like twenty feet. I could not get my foot back on the ground to save my life! Finally, I gave in and fell to my knees but because of the momentum I'd built trying to regain my balance, I fell flat on face. And this was only AFTER my feet rolled over my head!! All I could do was lie there in utter disbelief. I could not believe what had transpired. And to add insult to injury (literally, I skinned my knee), my teacher came wobbling out of the building at what was full speed for her and yelled in her African accent, "My goodness! Are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?!" At this point, I managed to roll over and I'm lying on my back in the middle of the passageway laughing at myself. My friend has just now caught up with me. While trying (unsuccessfully) to hide her laughter, she urges me to get up. Here I am, a grown woman with a skinned knee! Luckily for me, this happened during the lunch rush so the majority of the students that normally congregate outside the building were across campus at the cafe. But still in shock, I made my way across campus to show my "battle scar" to my friends waiting inside the cafe.
Recently, I've found myself being quiet more often. Of course, I don't ignore people when they are talking to me but I don't initiate conversation much any more. I find myself avoiding verbalization, actually. I know that sounds strange at first but there's a reason. I prefer gathering information over divulging these days so, even if I can contribute, I refrain from interjecting (because the satisfaction of discovering the thoughts of others makes my silence worthwhile). When I do speak, I try to speak with purpose. As a matter of fact, to "be" with purpose is my self-improvement goal. This may not make much sense to those of you who do not know me but I often do things for no good reason (or at least I used to). I liked to say that I was led by "my spirit" but in actuality, I was just being careless. So, I speak less to give myself an opportunity to think, ponder, and consider. There are still times in which even after careful consideration, I draw a blank. These are the moments that I close my eyes and jump! (Metaphorically speaking of course. I can't jump around with my eyes closed all the time because then, people would think I'm crazy.) But it is here in my quiet place that I am able to hear His voice clearly. This comfort allows me to blindly take that leap and know there is a perfect landing. So, if you see me "be"-ing quietly, don't mind me. I'm just waiting for a word from God.
I'm singin' again...Papa was a rolling stone. (Whomp, whomp, whomp, whomp) Where ever he laid his hat was his home. And when he died, all he left us was alone.
My papa isn't dead. He's alive and I won't say well, but he's alive and not sick. It's kind of sad that these lines remind me of my dad (whom aside from the little bit of resentment I harbor, I love dearly...I think). I, like what now seems to be the majority of us, have divorced parents and a slew (that's the word of the day, i suppose) of half-brothers and sisters. In actuality, I have one half-sister and five half-brothers. I often wonder why this is. Why couldn't my dad choose one and be happy? Was it him, her, or a combination of both? I know why my parents split (or at least my mother's side of the story) but what about the others? What is this epidemic sweeping the nation? Maybe I'll come back to that later....
I'm not sure I blame either of them but it is very unfair to me.
Singing in my outside voiceIt's Friday and I'm ready to swing, pick up my girls, and hit the party scene tonight! OoooOhh, it's alright! Mmm. So, get up and let this funky mellow groove get you in the mooood cuz' you know it's alriiiiigghhhttt!
That was a little Aaliyah for those of you who may not remember. (Lol) I got jazz personality, g mentality...remember? Hello, anyone? Okay. Nevermind. Anyway. I just came to say, 'Thank God its Friday!' I'm not so sure why I'm so excited but I feel encouraged today. About this time last week, I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown. I was beyond anxious about a slew of things that I don't care to detail at the moment. Maybe that is why I am so hopeful today--the absence of a house full of relatives kicking me out of MY bed and MY bathroom and the prospects of having my precious time back this weekend. All I need to make this day perfect is to find out the M.O.M. (minister of music) has reappeared. That disappearing act he pulled last week was NOT appreciated!! Talk about throwing someone under the bus. I was livid (which only added to my stress around this time last week). Even if he doesn't show, we'll be fine. I don't know how but that's the magic of faith. I must admit, though, that I am a little concerned because something just doesn't seem right. I can't help but wonder, 'What would make a man just not show up?' I mean, he knew he was going to absent so he could have at least put someone else in place. And I suppose the deacs didn't see fit to acknowledge this early on. The last minute is the best minute! I loathe (I'm trying to stop using the word "hate" for some odd reason) procrastination. Okay, well maybe I'm a little guilty of it myself but do NOT ask me to do something so labor intensive at the last minute! I take music and playing (especially for churches) very seriously because I view it as God's work. So, them having such blatant disregard for my time and energy really upset me! I thought I was over it but I notice a pattern and that upsets me even more. I do not work well under these conditions and it's very hard for me to hold my peace. So,...somebody please hold my mule while I shout!!!
I'm in love with my new shirt! I shop with an ideal in mind. I go into the store looking for whatever matches the outfit in my head and today, I found it! The store is called Trade Winds and I have been trying to catch it open for weeks. It's closed by the time I get off, I can never get up early enough to go before work, and for one reason or another, I never make it on the weekends. I left home a little early today and reached my destination (work) too soon. I had no intention of doing any extra work (because where I work, there is no such thing as overtime) so I traveled a few blocks down and found myself at Trade Winds. Upon entrance, I only saw what looked like clutter at first glance and I almost about-faced. I loathe clutter. Despite the feeling that something was going to come crashing down on my head at any moment, I made my way to the middle of the store. I paused to regain my composure. The amount of merchandise was overwhelming. I turned around and walked right into it. I pulled it off the rack, matched it to the image in my head, and carried it around the store with me (as I often do while trying to decide). To purchase or not to purchase?...That is the question. I saw nothing else and time was running out. It felt like the store was open just for me because there were only two people inside (me and the store owner). "I think I'll just take this one," I managed to get in between her random outbursts of thoughts that probably should've stayed in her head. She met me at the counter...And now it's mine! An Evan Picone blouse in my favorite color! I didn't even have to break a twenty! And I didn't have to stay all day! That's my kind of shopping! I'm going to wear it with one of my favorite high-waisted pencil skirts and I can't wait!
I'm probably just obsessing again but I saw that "beautiful thing" today and I must say, that "thing" is still pretty cute. I'm trying not to get too excited but I wouldn't be myself if I didn't let my imagination run away with me. I don't even know why I lit up when I saw this and I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. But... "I really like T.O.N.Y." And I still remember so,..."I really miss T.O.N.Y."
So. I play (usually not good enough for me but others seem to like it). I played my first Sunday in five years yesterday and I feel like a new person today. I feel as though I'm finally doing what I was made for. Obedience feels good! No more rebellion. Okay, that's a stretch but I mean, not so much. How 'bout that? It's okay to submit my will to that of Him (with a capital "H" meaning God, not some man). I still reject everything "mainstream" and so what if everybody else does it?!?! To hell with that! I think I may be getting a little carried away with this whole blogging thing but as I was saying,...to hell with that! There are two digits in my size and in the words of Ms "5head" Banks, 'Kiss my fat...' You know the rest. I don't really feel that way. I kind of just wanted to say 'Ms "5head" Banks.' I'm pretty durn cute for a fat girl. And even though fat ain't always fun while shopping, I don't mind the extra 'X' that much. And I fill out my clothes better than some of you "skinny b****es" (MoNique's words not mine). If you don't believe it, ask your boyfriend. Lol and jk (laughing out loud and just kidding, for those of you residing under rocks). I don't mean that either. Well, I meant all but the skinny b's part. Some of my favorite people are skinnies! I mean nothing by it. I suppose I just got carried away as I often do when given free reign. Um, can someone go over the concept of discretion with me again, please??
...I can sing, dance, and play five instruments (at least). And no, it's not because I'm black. Believe it or not, some of us have no rhythm and couldn't carry a tune in a bucket! And to add shock to injury, I don't really like fried chicken and I wish my parents hadn't been so creative when deciding on baby names. A simple 'Mary' would have sufficed. But being one of Charlie's angels isn't so bad. The whole constant mispronouncing and mispelling gets a little old but the confused expressions on strangers' faces at the sight of my name make me giggle a little bit.
...Kinda wish I hadn't written it. On second thought, I enjoyed writing it. I just should have let the inspiration remain anonymous but noooo, I just had to do it! It was fun and I got a kick out of it but now there's no more. The mystery of anonymity is non-existent. Just in case, you're wondering, "Voicemail" was written about the best sex I've never had and in one of my finest moments of randomness, I decided it would be a good idea to expose myself to...well, we'll just call him, "Muse." "Voicemail" may not have been the first but I'm pretty sure it was the last. I'm slighty confused because I'm a little disappointed by this. For who knows how long, "Muse" (or at least the idea of who I thought he was) had been my fuel. So, I guess this leaves me stranded and stuck on stupid. I should be used to this S.O.S. When will I learn? Luckily, I have at least learned to laugh at myself (sometimes while crying but laughing nonetheless)and the funny thing is,...now that I've revealed myself, he'll probably think everything I write is about him (kind of like, 'You're so vain. You probably think this song's about you.').
When they say "I don't know where to start," I always tell them, "Try the beginning." So, here we are. I created this blog with intentions to post entries daily (and more often than that, if possible) but I have failed to do that. I lack inspiration and my once active imagination is anything but. To make it plain, I just don't "feel" like writing. My mind is saying go but these creative juices just AIN'T gon' flow....well, not tonight....His song just came on. I can't believe that after all this time, I still give him possession. He didn't write a lyric or sing a single note but he is the only thought that comes to mind when I hear...It seems like a waste of my brain's energy to invest in the thought of what that "beautiful thing" could have been but "it" is still present in the forefront of my mind. Well, maybe not the forefront, just now because I am torturing myself with the tune of this song as my tool of choice. And it's gone...just as suddenly as it came.
So...in celebration of my birthday (that was four days ago), a friend and I decided to do something this weekend. A trip to the movies was her proposal and I (because I really would like to see the new Tyler Perry movie) accepted. However, while drudging through my last few minutes of "work," I received a call from her informing me that there had been a small change to the plan. Enter her boyfriend, a mutual friend (and her boyfriend). I am now officially the 5th wheel. At some point, I'm sure I'll get used to this seeing as how hanging out with other single women is slowly but surely becoming a thing of the past. Although I said it, I have yet to understand how this is truly in celebration of my birthday. Why would I want to be reminded of this cavity? I want to see the movie but 'To see or not to see?' That is the question.
I live in my head and that's not such a bad place to be. It's much better than this so-called reality. Sometimes. Best left alone but sometimes desire company-- just that of one though. Don't need two because I have my own. Many talents and the choice to bury or use. Brain child, Miss Write, and a jack of all trades. I'm not too sure they get it but I certainly don't care. I've got to get this out. I must put it out there. My friends say I'm crazy (my top ain't screwed on too tight) but I haven't been committed yet, so...I write.