Saturday, June 28, 2008

The Lambs Have Been Screaming

...really badly, can you tell?

It started Thursday when I couldn't sleep at all. I think maybe a half hour. And it's been a downward slide since then.

It didn't help that I read this book The Fallen, by Thomas E. Sniegoski. The Sun had brought home a very old "Advanced Reviewer Copy" from school somehow... he'd said it looked cool. But he thought it might be a little much for him. So I started to read it, decided it was a little much for him at his age, and became completely captured. LilacBlue later told me it was a series on ABC Family, but I rarely actually sit and watch TV so I'd had no idea.

The problem is... I'm not a Christian and don't subscribe at all to the notion of a Christian heaven or hell... but I do believe in angels and the Cherubim. And in The Fallen, the concept of Hell spooked me. Dunno why, exactly. Probably because I often churn in the hell of my own making, holding on to it tightly, trying not to inflict it on others. And every so often it leaks out anyway.

It's been a long week for me. And I have been holding on tightly to my own hell... the financial situation is now beyond dire, the emotional life is conflicting and confusing as hell and above all, I'm fucking tired. My soul is tired. I wish that I could lean on someone, truly lean on them without fear of them moving out from under me, and there is family... this is true. But family can only hold you up so long before you leaning on them drags the entire family down, and friends are busy walking with their own shit and will hold you up for even less time, though they try. And I, not wanting to inflict my hell on anyone, sometimes feel as though my grip is slipping.

And yet, I have no choice. Because at the center of it all is the Sun...

It seems he's grown another 3 inches this past week; and a very faint peach fuzz has appeared on his upper lip. I'd been noticing it, particularly when he's sweaty, but it was noticed tonight by a family friend. It kinda freaked me out... because he's beginning to enter another world soon that I won't be as big a part of anymore.

Which is OK... because I always knew it was my job to get him this far but that at some point I'd have to release him. And while the complete release is a ways off... his impending trip to California is a big deal. He'll be gone for two weeks... longer than either of us has ever been separated from each other. Oddly enough, I'm not too stressed about the trip itself, it's just I know it's coming.

TF and I have actually had several conversations... some via text messaging and some via the actual phone. They still stress me. I'm still waiting for it to explode. (And I don't want to hear about relaxing into it... all I have to say is "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder" and that ought to explain it.) But in a way, talking to TF again makes me feel a lot better about the Sun being out there. But he still drains me. The other night he wanted to know about the Sun's eczema. Tonight (cuz now it's Saturday) the Sun will be spending the night with BigBrotherSensei because the dojo kids are going to a barbecue at the SelfDefense Sensei's house, and TF wanted to know why it was I felt comfortable letting him go there.

And I do... partially cuz it's still NY State, but partially because both sensei's are really good dads to their own kids, and BigBrotherSensei in particular. And partially, cuz, uh, I want to go out on a Date and it's damn convenient. But of course I didn't tell TF that.

As for the Date... while I've been snappish about the whole thing because for whatever reason everyone has had "jokes", it doesn't help that on top of that I have my own issues of trust and "all-or-nothing" and it was just too much. I was ready to throw in the towel and retreat, like a kittycat under the sofa or on top of the kitchen cabinet, and let it pass me by. But I haven't just yet...

Aside from my Hell leaking out, there were good things that happened this week and one was that the Sun and a selection of kids from Opus "opened" for the NY Philharmonic Summer Stage concert in Central Park on Tuesday. My kid was completely nonplussed. I'd taken a picture on my cell of the crowd,
to send to the Sun's dad. He asked me via text "was he nervous?" Nope, not at all... in fact two of the receptionist/coordinators asked me "How did you get it so that he's always so calm and collected?" I told them both, as I've often answered, that I've no idea. I've nothing to do with it... he has always been a calm kid. They didn't believe me but I said to them what I always say, that I am merely the keeper of his flame. It's my job to protect it until it's strong enough to withstand the winds of the world... but it's his own flame, not mine.

The kids, all of them, played beautifully. Roberta was so proud and positively glowed which is a big deal coming from her.

Another good thing that happened was the Last Day of School... the Sun is out for summer. On Wednesday, the kids spent the afternoon in the park with their class:
and here is the Sun sitting on his teacher's lap. I often wonder if she really understands the depth of the crush he and his buddy had on her... all the little boys in fact. The Sun's best school friend (The Comet) told her that she was his woman. She laughed... but I know he was serious. My little boy was with this teacher for two years... 2nd and 3rd, and next year in fourth he'll move on to 4th grade. FOURTH grade... I'm amazed. How corny it is to wonder where the time went... but man, where did the time go????

I had a great workout the other day; combinations scare me cuz it's a lot to remember... but I did OK and I hit pretty hard and LittleSensei (who was holding the focus pads for me) was impressed, I think.

Another nice thing was that the Bronx Borough President's office puts on a fireworks display over Orchard Beach every year, and due to an inside connection to that office through Shoefly, we get wristbands to go sit on the plaza and eat free food (and drink free beer) and have a nice view of the beach and the fireworks.
The Professor came, as did MoodMagicBarbie (who has decided she enjoys playing guitar and bought two books of music--Greenday and The Beatles--today so she can learn some songs) and TinyOne, who was completely overwhelmed and had several meltdowns. The Professor had braided his hair, and two of them stuck up like antennae:
which amused the hell out of us.

But... I'm struggling. It helps to write but sometimes I get tired of writing the same complaints over and over. And then there is the odd sensation that while it's cathartic to put my issues out into the universe, (and yeah I'm a bit of an exhibitionist in that respect) it's also odd when your worlds collide, as mine are currently doing. More like crashburning into each other, but eh... whatever.

It'll be alright in the end. Either that or I'll succumb to the lure of medication...

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Good Lord

Nuthin like a little gossip. Funny when it's about you.

It's also funny to hear people's reactions to things. Apparently the rumor of the Date's and my hanging out together and subsequent playdate (and uh, I guess the constant text-messaging) exploded at his workplace, poor thing. He was out with co-workers the night before, sending me text-messages and someone leaned over and saw that he was messaging me... and then it escalated. They teased him brutally. I had told him do a Bill Clinton and denydenydeny, since technically nothing has happened.

The day after, when I saw him we sat talking and he said that one of the things that was said was along the lines of "what is she doing?", as if I were insane to want to go out with him.

I told him well, I guess people don't understand that I'm more "uptown" than I act, apparently. The thing is he's from a neighborhood very close to mine and a time period not too far from my own, and I think it's one of the things that's comfortable about him to me.

The other thing I jokingly told him was that maybe folks were just jealous... that some people thought he was hot. I told him I didn't particularly think so, but that I liked him and that he was cool to hang out with.

I felt a little pang though... it didn't seem to bother him too much but things like this make you wonder... why some people getting together is scandalous.

I dunno. I guess it doesn't bother me too much for myself since I once had a torrid affair with my married boss who had four children and a psychotic wife. And I had TF. And the only person I actively sought to keep this from was TF (and I guess the psychotic wife), mainly because I was afraid he'd beat the hell out of me even though we weren't really together. So this is sort of tame in comparison, as far as scandalous behaviour goes. I've done worse. But I worry for him... will it make a difference? Will he care? Will it create pressure and impact a growing friendship?

It didn't seem to, at least for the moment. He sat beside me and had me listen to an awfully mushy LeVert song, which just tickled me (I told him I usually avoided music like that)... and then we talked about some other stuff which I'll only reveal should it actually happen.

Life is odd sometimes. At the beginning of the month my heart was breaking over a HopelessToBeHad, and now... I guess I could say there is an interesting feeling of waiting... to see what happens, to see how I'll feel in a few days, whether this will all evaporate.

But for the moment it's pretty cool.

Monday, June 23, 2008

And Then.... (pt 2)

Saturday morning I guiltily snuck off the Rock with him without telling Shoefly and went to the Sun's school to help set up for the fair. But then I had to go... it was getting late and I had to pick up salad stuff for the food that accompanies ourdojo's promotion ceremony, get the Sun and get to Yonkers. And I was starting to stress because I was already late, and the Date texted me and asked me if I needed a ride back.

Who does that?

So I said yes, and he drove me home (after first having to get his keys back from PracticalMama, who again merely smiled at me and was instructed to not "see" anyone in the car aside from him), and then drove me down the block to the local supermarket so I could get the salad stuff.

And that was the first kiss. Which I joked that had it happened say the night before, well... the danger level would have been Defcon 5.

The belt test was run pretty smoothly, and my little Sun is now a "new man"-- a green belt. He was so proud, and had a renewed interest in karate. He isLittleSensei's first greenbelt student. It's quite an accomplishment for both of them. Shihan's teacher was there, Master Tommy Chen, and the kids were in awe, honored that he was there. We all were.

The Professor and Bigbear got there just in time to see the Sun put on his new belt...we ate a little and the Professor drove us home.

And then today... I got up and managed to do most of the laundry and clean most of the floors in my apartment, and through the day had a long text conversation which resulted in the Date arranging to bring his son and another boy the kids know up to the Rock for a "Playdate". I told him I'd make "boy food"; chicken nuggets and Tater Tots, but said they would have to eat salad to compensate. When they got here the Date's kid and the other boy got upstairs and in the time it took me to lock the downstairs door, come up one flight of stairs and take my shoes off, both boys had sprawled out on the sofa like they belonged there, and the Sun had taken oversomeones PSP.

The Moon at first didn't want to come over, but then he did (feeling grown cuz he's now allowed to walk here by himself) and then I had four boys; a 1st grader, a 2nd grader, a 3d grader and a 4th grader... fighting each other like puppies, running through the house hitting each other with loud swords, fighting over the game controls. And then we all ateboyfood and walked down the block to the beach, where the boys threw rocks at the sea. The Date and I sat on the steps and watched them.

And for me... it's been the perfect weekend. The sex can wait... it's not that I don't enjoy that cuz I do... but days like this are what I miss.

This weekend I got to see Nene... and I even got a phone call from him Saturday night at like 12:30 in the morning... the littleboy will always have my heart but I think I'm done. And I think he knows it... And I know he won't be with his babymamma for long and if came to me in the next few days and told me he'd changed his mind... it would give me pause. But I know he's not strong enough to claim me, and I've stopped crying and to me that's a pretty clear indication that I'm done.

Cuz the date... I dunno. He's not my type, though folks seem to think he's hot. And he's a little more 'hood than Shoefly would approve of for me, and a little younger than most people would want for me (though he's not as young as Nene) but I've been coming to my own conclusions about what I needed in a person.

Lovebabz had this list going; the things she wanted in a love. And I've read most of her posts with great interest, and while I hadn't gotten around to making my own list, over the last year, while being in love with a Hopeless To Be Had I had figured out that:
  • while I have dated across the Divide, the bottom line is I need someone who's a little bit "hood"... a little gangsta. Not a lot... generally I'm not into the ThugLife but they need to be comfortable driving or walking through the rougher parts of the City, because I am... And I'm only 5'3" and in no way should I have to feel protective of a man. This precludes most men of Euro descent...cuz while I'll date anybody who's nice to me, men of Euro descent don't know 'hood etiquette and so won't ever fit in and are always just a tad uncomfortable. At leas the ones I've dealt with.
  • while I'm no fan of gymrats there's got to be some form of athleticism... I don't need "buff" but there needs to be some core strength.
  • any man I'm involved with has to be good with little kids. Loving but firm, able to curtail rambunctious child (especially boychild) behaviour without being macho or mean.
  • a man has to be compassionate.
  • he has to be passionate about what he does.
  • he's got to be laid back... I am not a "type A" personality but I tend to be stressed... and the men around me have got to be able to chill me out with out being condescending or domineering.
  • he's got to be willing to pitch in and help me if I need it, and not be resentful if I don't need it.
  • he's got to make me laugh.
  • he has to like to cuddle.
  • he can't be possessive of me.
  • he has to love a good RoadTrip; be able to travel easily without a lot of huffin' and puffin' and be comfortable in unfamiliar surroundings.
And who knew, but so far, the Date possesses all those qualities.

But, it's been my experience that they start out like gangbusters and then cool off... or get psycho. And so I feel like I'm holding my breath...

(ah the corniness can't be helped---wait for it....)

.....waiting to exhale. (*groan*)

So, Um, What Was I Ranting About... (pt 1)

the other day?

Oh yeah. Being jaded, and thinking I'll be single for a while.

It's been an interesting coupla days.

(and this got to be so long I'm gonna break it into two posts. This is what happens when I don't write everyday, like I should.)

Various peoples in real life have various things to say about what's been happening and I suppose they're entitled. Shoefly seems none too pleased... probably cuz its way close to home. And I also know she's my friend and knows I get wrapped up and doesn't like to see me hurt over dumb people. Fatlady asked me what I was doing and that I should just give up the Stuff (well she was much classier than that) and not make such a big deal about it, since no matter what I say happened whoever finds out will assume I'm sleeping with him anyway.

The Professor has predicted, based on a visionflash this morning, that this will be The One. She was very detailed about it, too.

Me? I feel like I'm holding my breath.

And for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, the nutshell version (ok I started writing and it turned out not to be the nutshell version) is this:

What started as a date last Friday turned into 24-hour-a-day text messaging and some inside jokes, which turned into a planned date on Saturday night which I realized wasn't going to happen due to various reasons and then turned into an impromptu date on Friday night.

I was asked to accompany a car trip to Brooklyn to pick up a grandchild of the Date's PracticalMama (as opposed to BirthMama) from the Grandchild's other Grandmother and bring said Grandchild back to the home of the PracticalMama. This required that the Date first come and pick me on the Rock. I had been in the City to accompany the Sun on a school trip to the Amazonia exhibit at the South Street Seaport. Afterwards, I had to go over to E. 94th to pick up a check, and the Sun and I were supposed to go to Yonkers for the last workout before the Sun's Greenbelt Test. But I could see the Sun was tired... the trip to the Seaport was fun but hectic, and even though I knew the Senseis would be upset, I decided, after walking over and back from 103rd to 94th and 1st Ave, that the Sun just needed to go home. So we went back to school to pick up the Moon.

But I wanted to put my client's check in the bank, so we got off the bus at 'Two-Five, but something had happened and all the glassfront of the bank was shattered, and there were police. So the boys and I had to trek across 'Two Five to the other branch, and then once I was there I realized I should duck into Marshall's and pick out a gift for the Sun's teacher.

Then I got the text... did I want to ride to Brooklyn? and I didn't think it would happen due to timing... but I got the boys home, fed them Chinese food, packed up the Sun for a sleepover at the Moon's, and took a shower.

At about 8:30p Shoefly got the boys and the Date rolled up in his car about the same time.

Funny thing about the Date.

It hit me with a flash that he reminds me of Uncly... same laid back energy, same love of driving ("I drive... that's what I do" he said), same love of sunroofs and darktinted windows so they can be "incognito" (only Uncly had to remove his tint cuz the cops made him) and some other stuff. So we drove out to Brooklyn, me playing DJ on his iPod.

Then there's the fact that unlike Nene, who never wanted to claim me despite whatever form of a relationship we were having... the Date and I technically have NO relationship, and he had no problem taking me around with him to drop off the Grandchild. And seeing the PracticalMama who knows me EXTREMELY well (um, I did mention the Date was "awfullyclosetohome"). PracticalMama merely smiled and said "Hi", and got in the car and we drove her and Grandchild home.

And then Date took me up to see BabyMama.

It might seem a little strange... but people make weird relationships and it seems as though the main relationship is between the Date and PracticalMama ("Everything stops for her" he said... and I said I was cool with that cuz I happen to like her), rather than the Date and BabyMama who is PracticalMama's daugther. So BabyMama and the date seem to be more like brother and sister with an incestuous history, rather than exes. Listen, it's the 'hood. What can I tell you. Only... they're not really 'hood but it doesn't matter--they act gangsta.

BabyMama has just moved into a new apartment in the same building as PracticalMama and was having a mild get-together. So we sat and chatted, and it was a little strange but it wasn't too bad, especially after a Corona. And a puff. But not much so's I wouldn't get antisocial.

So then Date needed food and we ended up in a Sports Bar (joy!--not) but after two Margaritas and a rebroadcast of the Mike Tyson/Buster Douglass fight (wherein Mike got knocked out) and some hot wings and fries, we sat next to each other, leaning on each other and not really saying much.

By then it was 2AM, and we were both really tired--I having not slept much the night before due to the usual, and he cuz he'd been hanging out--so he drove me home. I was supposed to go down to the Sun's school on Saturday morning to help with our annual Rummage Sale/Fair set-up, but I was thinking out loud that I probably wasn't going to make it. And the Date suggested that he stay over, and drive us both down in the morning. He promised he'd be respectful and a gentleman and would sleep on the couch. And I knew that he would and so I agreed.

He wasn't really the problem though. It's me with the hairpin trigger...

...but that's why I hold out. Because I often jump into things. And I haven't been able to jump into something without staying in it, without becoming attached. No matter what I say. There are most certainly people who can sleep with people and walk away if it doesn't work... chalk it up to "fun" or a "scratch" and move on. Not me. Every man I have ever slept with in my entire life from the time I was 16, I have had some form of a relationship with... usually exclusive. Even if I sleep with them on the first date. The one time in my life I was able to be cavalier about sex was just after my divorce, when I was 23 and superbitter. But even then... while I wasn't exclusive with one, it was the same coupla guys for about a year, until I fell in love with one of them and cut all the others off.

At 43 I've decided there's no point in pretending anything different. And I'm unapologetic; I prefer putting all my eggs in one basket. Yes, there's that danger of being awfully hurt, and so I do try to protect myself and sometimes it's worse than other times... that fear of that awful pain. But I'm 43, and I'm pretty comfortable in my own skin, and my skin doesn't like to be touched by anybody unless I really know them and I really like them or have crazy chemistry. And if I don't know you or really like you or don't feel crazy chemistry I don't see why I should have sex just for "fun". Ew.

And so I've told the Date over and over that I don't particularly care what he's doing now or how he's living/loving... and I'm not asking questions because I'm not sure I want to know... but if at some point sex comes into this it's gonna be an all-or-nothing thing, and he needs to be sure he can handle that.

So he gave me a foot massage instead. And a back rub. And dutifully tried to fit his rather long frame on my tiny red couch until I said what the hell... come sleep in my bed. And nothing happened other than some cuddling.

-----end of part one ------

Friday, June 20, 2008

Life Can Be Funny

So after about a year of being in love with a Hopeless To Be Had, I find myself going back to the way I used to feel a long long time ago, when I was ruthless, mad, annoyed. I don't know that I like feeling this way.

Nene asked me, while I was showing him how to do something, what I wanted him to do. I said dump the wife. It was kinda funny to see him blink. But now I don't even know that I want him to. Now I'm so annoyed with the whole thing and just mad. He was still trying flirt, and I told him you made your decision... in my opinion it was the wrong one but that's what you chose. Yeah, I know.... conflicting directions but I'm conflicted and totally of the mindset to share that confusion. He said he wanted to come see me this weekend. I said he was busy... he said he wasn't. I said I was and I needed to figure out if I should cancel. And I'm not sure I even want to see him... I think the gates are closed enough and they should stay that way. It's just easier on me in the long run.

On the other hand the Date was coming on like gangbusters this week. One the one hand it's funny, and flattering and I enjoy it. On the other hand there is darkness creeping into my soul because I've been here so many times before, and every other time I was so hopeful and now I'm so not. The Fat Lady told me the other day about this episode of Sex And the City, about one of The Girls who was jaded (Miranda?) and how she finally ended up with her guy. I laughed as she described a lot of what I'm feeling... and then told me all about the happy ending. And I said but it was a TV Show... a Movie. That's why there was a happy ending. The reality is that men who come on like gangbusters in the beginning usually cool off the second you either give it up or show real interest.

The other day I was dropping the Moon at home after bringing him back from school, and I ran into a friend of mine, sitting in her car. She was crying but she didn't want me to see. I kept asking her what was wrong cuz I'm relentless like that. She's just getting out of a 7-year relationship, and before that she had been NotInARelationship (ie, celibate) for the three years prior. So in essence, she had either been sexless or not enough sex in 10 years. She said she just wanted to get laid... no strings... and had gone out "dressed like the biggest whore" and not one guy had approached her. "The game has changed" she said... "my friends said men expect me to come up to them, now, and I never did that."

The game has changed. In my day, the chicks who approached men or who put out were "easy" or cheap, and certainly talked about. And despite HIV and other nasty little diseases, people seem to be awfully free and easy with who they sleep with these days, and gender also seems to be pretty interchangeable. And certainly, nobody seems to want to commit. The no-committal thing would work for my friend, though. I told her that from what I've seen, the major trick is to feel empowered enough to not NEED anything from anyone..... that if they sense need in you, you're done.

Me, I'm a big walking need. But at the same time I know how to cope, how to take care of me. I don't think I'm doing it all that well... but I'm used to doing it alone. I was--for the most part--pregnant alone, raised a small child alone, I live alone, I console myself or rejoice over a triumph alone. I'm tired of doing it alone and don't want to anymore... but I'd rather continue to be alone than to change those things I like about me. I'm not into casual sex or multiple "friends".

I like being committed, monogamous, "ride or die". And I don't mind just hanging out or going dancing or the movies with someone just to have fun. But I get the distinct impression that men these days expect you to sleep with them just because they paid for a dinner. After you've walked up to them and asked them to take you out.

So I guess I'm gonna be single a while.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

The Mountains Shook, The Earth Trembled.....

...Tim Russert dropped dead at his desk on Friday (which oddly enough I feel... I really liked watching him as a newscaster and he was one of the few Sunday morning political newsmags I could tolerate--and I always felt like I understood what he was talking about) and I had a 10-15 minute conversation--civil one--with none other than TF.

Yep, folks you read that right. And it's not even New Moon. But I did realize later that it was Friday the 13th.

I haven't posted since Tuesday for no other reason than time simply sped up. I guess it started with me finding out through the Sun that his father was beginning to make his CA trip arrangements and planned to have the Sun fly out to Cali with a friend. Sun said "and I'm OK with this!" and I said "yeah, but I'm not" and promptly fired off an email asking TF "Do you really trust this person with the life of your kid?" and "You dare to question what I do???" and told him that I intended to fly out with the Sun.

He wrote me back one of his longer emails and while he was obnoxious and obtuse I kind of got from the tone of it that he actually understood where I was coming from but he didn't change his position.

I wrote him back more calmly, explaining that while I understood his reasons, and while I didn't doubt the trustworthiness of his friend, I would not feel comfortable having the Sun travel without a family member. I told him I even took an informal poll... most moms' I spoke to wouldn't do it either. Therefore, I wanted to fly out with him. I told him that honestly, God forbid the worst case scenario should happen a blood relative needs to be there. I asked him to split the fare.

Long story short, despite several decent phone conversations over the past two days, I'm still fucked. Still on the losing end. Because he refused 1.) to concede that he was wrong to open his fat mouth and offered to pay a fucking friend's way, instead of mine, 2.) he even went so far as to (nicely) refuse to even book my ticket. Thank God for parents, but it really sucks that at 43 I should be able to do things like this for my parents, rather than have to ask them to do it for me. So far I only booked the trip out till I figure out what to do. (Hey, anybody want to come with me? and pay the hotel?) I can't afford to stay... nor do I want to despite an invitation to stay in a hotel and have breakfast... or fly out from LAX and be driven there cuz it's cheaper. Most likely, I'm going to fly to Cali, walk my kid to the gate, and turn around and get right back on the fucking plane.

Bye-bye, whatever plans I had to do anything "extra" this summer, cuz this trip is going to wipe me out.

And I did take an informal poll amongst several moms... some I know well, some not so well. Every one of them said the same thing; they would not feel comfortable putting their kid on a five hour flight with someone they barely knew. Just to double check myself, I even asked Nene, who's response was "hell no".

I'm just fed up. Fed up with life, fed up with men. Fed up with the fact that 7 fucking years later I'm still on the losing end of whatever arrangements get made with TF in regard to my kid, because we just don't see eye to eye. I'm mad at God. Seriously. I can't catch a break. Shoefly and the Professor both are like "You're a better mom than me, I wouldn't let him go". What they don't understand is.... there is no choice. To refuse a trip starts another war. And after 7 fucking years in family court with a bunch of assholes who are only looking at what's on paper, I'm done. I'm done fighting. I don't have it in me. If I never see the inside of Bronx Family Court again it'll be too soon. And I know if I get into another fight with TF I'm just going to put out a contract and be done with it. So... I just have to suck it up and deal.

Just to add to me feeling completely overwhelmed, Nene started to change his tune mid-week. And said that if he ever changed his mind about babymama I'd be the first to know. Hadn't he told me that? Um, no, you didn't. But what does it matter? I told him one of the reasons I needed to remove myself was that I know how this is going to go. There is "something" there with us... and because there is "something" as long as I'm around there will be something for her to pick up on. And she will pick up on it, and once she's in position to call him on stuff she will... and if she ever crosses my path with some bullshit I'm going to light into her with both feet. He asked if I would lose my cool enough to blow him out of the water and I said that I have amazing self control. Most likely I would have enough restraint not to say something really ghetto like "Whatever, bitch, I still fucked your man and did it better than you" cuz that would make his life difficult... but you just never know. Sometimes my vision goes black and my ears start to buzz and my mouth starts spewing before my mind catches up. And so I need to not be around. Cuz already, I feel myself and my resolve slipping. Luckily, the Sun will be away for two weeks soon and that will give me some time to think, to disappear.

Out of the blue, someone I know asked me rather hesitantly out on a date. Funny. I definitely am more comfortable around people I know, so when the person asked, it was easy to say yes. There's an attraction, to a degree... he's a nice-enough looking dude and funny, and sort of laid back but he's also "too close to home" --like WAY too close to home but you know me. That's what I do. Shit where I eat. Except this person is a little too into casual flirtations so I know it couldn't go too far. But we went out. And I had a really nice time... it was nice to be taken out... by someone who drives and so could take me home... was comfortable in all kinds of surroundings. It was flattering to feel a slight nervousness on his part because he admitted to trying to impress me. And he was pretty clear on his intentions.

But he's no Nene. And I don't mean that as in I'm comparing him to Nene in an effort to not be into him. It's just I realized something... I was fucked from the very beginning with Nene because it was a completely different feeling. And despite whatever I may have told myself and others early on about it only being a bootycall, or that it was no big deal and merely flattering to be able to go out with someone that much younger than me, there was an intensity from the very beginning and had I been thinking properly (or dated more often and therefor more familiar with the process) I really should have just let it alone. I should have known my feelings were already too intense. And I also realized that I am what I am..... an all-or-nothing chick. "Don't be so all-or-nothing" the Professor said. "Just have fun" said Shoefly. "Do you think you can be involved with someone and not get attached?" asked my date.

To the Professor I bristled (but it wasn't at her- merely that I am accepting of what I am and I'm not going to change) that I AM all-or-nothing. To Shoefly I said in this particular case it will be easy because truly, the gates are down. To my date I said "I can't be around anyone for long if I'm not attached."

I got asked out again on Saturday night, and was pretty much OK to go. But then it rained. It's been blistering hot all week. Wednesday night some kind of pseudo-tornado roared through the city--from Manhattan up through the Bronx, uprooting trees and tearing off branches. Thursday morning all over the city both private companies and the Parks Department were sawing up huge chunks of tree. The Sun and I were late getting back from karate that night, and just as we were settling into the bedtime routine I heard this amazing, indescribable noise and looked out the window to see ginourmous trees bending sideways, and anything not nailed down blowing down the street. People were yelling and trying to get to safety. The wind continued about 15 or 20 minutes, followed by thunder and lightening and rain... but the weather didn't really break. Last night it did; buckets of rain and lots of thunder and something about all that rain shifted my emotions around.

I suddenly found myself inordinately annoyed at all the attention I was being paid because it always starts out that way... fast and furious and intense. You get sucked in thinking "oh this is interesting" and then once you get wrapped up... it suddenly cools. They get busy. Or distant. Or accuse you of being clingy. And start saying shit like "Oh, but I always told you I wasn't into being committed" and you find yourself saying "but it was so intense I thought you'd change your mind." Fuck that. This time I'm not doing that. So I told him no... I was staying home. And I've no regrets...

I didn't get anymore sleep, though; matter of fact I've been pretty sleepless the entire week. It's just I can't stay awake long enough to write coherent sentences, but then I wake up to surf the web and next thing I know the birds are chirping.

So, I've griped.

Nice things that happened this week were that I discovered a comment on a post of mine from Miss MoodMagicBarbie herself... it had been a sleepless night and it's the one thing that made me laugh the entire time. Not only that she decided to come out of lurkdom to make a comment, but that she's apparently been lurking a minute and doing some occasional blogging herself. Funny little girl.

On Friday I got to meet the Sun's school at the beach again, this time with the Moon, and the FatLady and her daughter Sugar weren't on the trip (the boys in her class are too rowdy) but LilacBlue and Whitehorse were there... and we spent a really relaxing time sitting in the Sun. Unfortunately, I'm not used to the English half of the Moon's skin, and so I feel responsible for the rather nasty sunburn he got. But we had a great time.

I've been working out still, which is a big deal for me. Usually I've quit by now. I think I lost about 4 lbs, and it's been so hot I've been content to eat lightly. And it's hurting less and less the next day. And I even got a compliment from Little Sensei that I was getting better. And I worked on forms with the kids yesterday and kept up even though I have a lousy sense of direction...

maybe one day I'll be able to get in a ring and beat somebody's ass. It'll make me feel better.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Still Hot...

...still feeling Some Kinda Way but not as bad today.

Interesting brew of feelings blowing around inside. More about disappointments, about not being chosen, about wanting to believe in the fabulous rather than the ordinary, in wanting to believe in big dreams. In wanting an extraordinary experience rather than the mundane. My whole life has been one extraordinary experience... and I suppose I'm more discontent at being somehow ordinary... an ordinary mom in an ordinary life. And I don't know how that works.

Yesterday, as hot as it was we went up to the dojo. I expected that they would take it reasonably easy on the kids because of the no-air conditioning, but LittleSensei was teaching--and not working out himself, I might add--so no such luck. And he can be not as observant as his older more sensible brother, who at one point pulled him aside and told him to take it easy. I worked out with the kids, and it was broiling hot. I must have lost 5 lbs easy, just in sweat. I knew my body and could handle most of it... when LittleSensei ordered bunnyhops after like a 5 minute run around the dojo I quietly refused by going to pretend I needed my asthma pump. Cuz that was just ridiculous. But the rest of it was OK... and I was actually surprised at my own resilience. I'm in better shape than I think. Stronger than I thought. If I could shake the gut I'd be happy... but I know the gut is more from lack of sleep than anything else.

My goal is to be able to hang with the adult class in the other dojo... when I feel I can handle that class I think I'll switch. It's not that the kids have an easier workout cuz I don't think they really do... at least because LittleSensei runs a hard work out. But kids flail around a lot and take a lot of breaks when the Senseis aren't looking. Kids are funny. They know when to stop. So I know I'm working just as hard as they are (proportionately) because I don't flail around, pay attention to the proper form of what I'm doing and thanks to years of vocal training (and severe asthma) I know how to breathe. At one point my lungs felt like they were on fire but it's odd to feel your body kick on autopilot. It will do the right thing if you let it, if you trust it.

Afterwards though I could feel my brain pounding from the heat and had to go dunk my entire head in a sink of freezing cold water. Then I had to sit a minute to let the legs stop feeling like jelly. But it was good...

I know what I'm capable of. I know what I can endure... and that's a lot. I know I can't be broken--many have tried and many have failed. The only one who can break me is me, I only fail when I allow myself to.

I still can't figure out though, what the fuck my life is intended for... I need a sign, Lord.

Monday, June 9, 2008

Hot Weekend...

as in "hot" because it was 90-something degrees and humid... NOT cuz it was "hot," hot.

The Sun was in a tournament in New Jersey on Saturday. As BigSensei said "Next time we stay over" cuz we were all supposed to meet at the dojo at 6:30A, and leave at 7P. Well, we left closer to 7:20A and rolled in about 8A when registration was supposed to start. We were the first ones there. Which wasn't a bad deal since it meant we got to score our spot in a corner and camp out (sometimes at big tourneys "camp-out" space is at a premium and people can get really territorial) but getting up and moving that early on a hot-ass Saturday was a bit of an effort. Us moms are getting smart, though... we all brought our own food so we didn't have to be at the mercy of the locals. Cuz you never can tell what you're going to get... sometimes there's a hot dog stand... sometimes there ain't.

The bad part was that the Sun and I had to leave earlier and spend money on a cab to get there by 7A, and it also meant my poor little man had to get up like it was a school day. And since I'd had no sleep I was running on "auto". But we made it.

He was one of the first to go up for forms, and he was a little off his game but he got third place. I had signed him up for point sparring during pre-registration, but the tourney folk had registered him for self-defense so he and BigSensei went to correct the situation. The Sun came back and informed me he was going to enter the Continuous Contact event.

"Are you sure?" I asked, but he said he was. And he bravely got in the ring and got chased around, and cried, and Shihan kept asking if he wanted to continue, but he said no and he finished the bout. And later he volunteered to try again with another kid, a white belt, who was just as scared as he was, but the Sun was even more scared than he and got chased around some more and cried, and Shihan stopped the fight.

I've been doing some pondering on the whole thing, cuz he doesn't like sparring at all... and I was surprised he signed himself up for continuous contact. Which, if you don't know, is really kickboxing--but a 2 minute round with no stops unless someone REALLY needs it or falls or something. Since kickboxing is sanctioned, they can't call it kickboxing matches, but that's what they are. Some kids are amazingly good at it... the Sun is one of those who isn't.

Parents sound horrified when I joke about him being chased around the ring, crying (and the sun has this really distinctive high-pitched cry he does when he's mad/overwhelmed)... but a.) I know he's not getting seriously hurt b.) if he really wanted to quit he would and no one could stop him from doing so c.) Shihan is usually the one to referee these bouts (at least all the ones we've been to lately) and the Sun adores and trusts Shihan d.) the Sun could use some toughening.

Later on both Senseis got on me about babying him... I told them both, "Look, I am mother." I don't consider my protecting and comforting him as "babying" but call it what you will that's my job. I recognize that if he lived in a two-parent household, there would be someone to play badcop to my goodcop. And there isn't one here, so I said to LittleSensei in particular, since he was the one making the most noise "well, that's your job." I said that unfortunately, the Sun is only exposed to Yin in our house... he definitely could use some "Yang" but I can't supply it. BigSensei said well, it was my job to be both Yin and Yang, and I told him I'm just too damned tired right now.

But I think about it... I know that two minutes can seem like an awfully long time when you're simply watching, and to actually be in the ring for two minutes must seem a lifetime. I don't know that I'll ever be able to do it... but in the back of my heart it's a goal of mine. So I don't get on the Sun about crying or being overwhelmed... and I was so extraordinarily proud of him for trying, for finishing, and for trying again. He's such a brave little boy, a stalwart, and never a quitter... I hope that one day that quality will do him well.

The Senseis kidded around with the Sun a bit, and he got steamy with LittleSensei but then he laughed after awhile. BigSensei's wife said that her son used to fight like my Sun... with his back to the opponent, and I took that as encouragement. Cuz the kid is pretty good now, and won his match.

Our kids did really well... came home with lots of 1st place and 2nd place tropies and they were all so proud of themselves. They're really cute kids... and I'm particularly fond of the girls cuz they keep up. One little tiny one, about 6, beat two boys in her age group in sparring, to win 2nd place in a field of about 5 kids... crying the entire time.

BigSensei's wife dropped us off at the subway once we were back in the Bronx, but by the time the train pulled into the terminal depot, the hordes were coming off of Oye Beach, and every available bus was simply running back and forth from the train station to the beach. So our bus home TOOK FOREVER to come... and then we sat in unbelievable traffic. We couldn't walk cuz we had too much stuff.

On Sunday, we were geared up to go to the Pow Wow, but it was hot... and the Professor was being particularly passive-aggressive so finally I called it... I said it was too hot... the Sun didn't really want to move from the couch anyway so just keep the same time schedule and come up to visit me on the Rock.

Since she was in bitchy mood and felt compelled to shout me out about getting on her nerves, I'll just say the major thing my loving sister does that gets on my nerves is dilly-dally when she doesn't really want to do something. It makes me nuts... and then she takes on the role of rounding up folks and being a martyr, which eats up her time even more so by the time she got to my house she was particularly foul.

And since the Sun and I had expected the family up within an hour ( and they took so long that they got stuck in the inevitable traffic) when they finally showed up 3 hours later I wasn't quite as annoyed as I became... we'd sat in the house all day doing nothing expecting them momentarily.

I could have spent the day doing other things had I known nobody really wanted to come up to see me, particularly when they get here and start throwing daggers.

But whatever.

The Sun and I had wanted to show the folks the shortcut through the woods to the beach, and surprisingly everyone (except Poppy) came along and halfway enjoyed it. Even though our Native Eastern Woodland ancestors were probably shaking their heads in shame as the entourage crashed and complained through the woods... about the humidity, the "giant" bugs, the lurking fungus. Only TinyOne did his ancestors justice, perched atop his Mooma's shoulders, dancing and singing along the path, barefoot, barechested and baggypantsed in the heat. The Sun rode his bike.

The beach was swarmed... but quickly cleared when distant lightening was seen hitting the water, so we crashed home again and then went to eat. The dinnerplace was decided by the two most adamant in the family but it was good (and it was free, for me) so I ain't complainin'. Sometimes family is like that but I love them anyway.

Feelin' Some Kinda Way

The Professor's little freind had this saying about "feelin' some kinda way" when he was upset about something. Streetfolk can't show weakness or fear or sadness, and so it was quite an appropriate way, I thought, of saying you felt something without coming right out and having to identify it.

So I guess that's what I can say I'm feeling at this moment. Which is kinda funny... since I was basically OK this weekend. But I woke up this morning feeling decidedly Some Kinda Way. Though maybe it's just PMS. Which I don't offer suffer from, thank the Lord (and never did) but I do today.

Yeah, that's it.

Or it could have been the dream.

But whatever.

And it's hot, and I'm scared shitless of my financial situation as this is my last week of unemployment, and my BigClient, though pretty steady, takes a while to pay, and life is about to/HAS to change and I don't do change well.

And I'm fucking tired. Yeah, I know, sleep would help. But the problem with sleep is dreams. I think--yeah, I guess I knew all along--that the reason I don't sleep is because of the dreams. Not bad dreams... I rarely if ever have nightmares. But my dreams are usually vivid, and in color, and I always feel them. And if they're particularly vivid I'll feel them for days. So life is much better when I make myself so tired that I just black out and don't dream.

So I slept about an hour Friday night, and was mostly uncomfortable Saturday but I functioned in the heat and the long tournament which I'll get to in a sec, and I thought I'd pass out Saturday night but I didn't really. And yesterday we were going to go to a pow wow but it was too damn hot and that particular pow wow is at Floyd Bennett Field in Brooklyn on a former airstrip so there is NO SHADE. But I'm sorry we couldn't make the pow wow cuz they always refresh my soul. But I hung out with the family yesterday and I'll get to that later, too.

So I stayed up for a while last night and got in the bed cuz I was finally really tired. And I had a dream anyway. Shit.

And then on top of everything the project in question could be taking off... and it's breaking my heart cuz I just want out, now. I just want to disappear...

Friday, June 6, 2008

Haven't Done a Quiz in a Bit...

I liked this one. Nice to know I still got some skillz....

You Scored an A
You got 10/10 questions correct.

It's pretty obvious that you don't make basic grammatical errors.

If anything, you're annoyed when people make simple mistakes on their blogs.

As far as people with bad grammar go, you know they're only human.

And it's humanity and its current condition that truly disturb you sometimes.

Obama for President

I've been letting this thing sink in... for the first time in the history of our country, a brown man has played the "white man's" game and won.

It's pretty friggin' cool. There's gotta be a catch.

No doubt, I'm proud as hell. But I don't feel proud cuz I'm brown and he's brown, necessarily. I'm proud for this country--that enough people believed that change can be accomplished. Enough people were fed up with the expected, and tried something new. People in unexpected places like Iowa and Montana. I'm proud he was brave enough and steely enough to be able to play the game... the delegates game especially, and win. I'm proud that for the most part, he kept the mudslinging to himself. Sometimes he stumbled... sometimes he was too quick to bow to pressure, but on the other hand I recognize in him a certain ability to be distant from the day-to-day. It has to do with growing up in different places, in different countries, exposed to all sorts of different people. To be a part of, yet very different from people in your own family. My mom's family was of a "part"... belonged to a particular and very prominent element of "Black" Chicago life, and yet we, related by blood, were not. A situation like that teaches you early to define your own existence inside of your own skin. It gives you the ability to make your world very very small. And when your world is very small, you can appear to have things be much closer to you without them actually affecting you. So I feel it was easy for him to distance himself quickly from things like Jeremiah Wright because truthfully, they weren't all that close to him to begin with.

I'm a little conflicted, though. In the true sense of the word, he is African-American... an American who is a second-generation African. He has a distinct name. I still wonder had he been a JohnDoe American Black man, would he have so easily penetrated the system? I know people intimated he got where he was because he was "black"... and that's not exactly true if he were JohnDoe American Black Man. But there is a certain truth to that, given his particular set of circumstances. It doesn't make his nomination any less important. And to people not in AfricanAmerican culture, it's all the same "Black Man" to them. But internally, people wonder, and despite the fact that mainstream media claims "black people" supported him, the truth is a lot of brown people were wary. "He's not really one of us," I've heard some brown folk say. "He's got another agenda."

I'm a little conflicted because initially, while I wasn't a die-hard fan of Hillary, I thought it was cool she was running for president. We're also long overdue for a woman to be president. When the rumblings first began about who was going to run, I was more on her side than any one else's mainly cuz I didn't know anything about him except that Grandpa had met him.

It took a rant by Bigbear about what was happening to Harlem to make me stop and think. Clinton's office on 'Two-Five was what finally nailed the coffin shut on what used to be the soul of Black Folk. And there was something fundamentally wrong to me with having 12 years of the same two families running the country. That's like having a monarchy. What's the point of claiming we're a democratic country when the same two families have that kind of power?

And also Obama has sex appeal. We haven't had that in a long time. The sexual tension between him and his wife is palpable. Hillary just doesn't have that appeal, and her standing by Bill all those years, with all his blatant and public disrespects of her really left me sour.

But two things really firmed my Obama support. The first thing was Obama's website. It was tight. He had taken the time to come up with a logo, lay out the site, categorize and organize topics and agendas, took advantage of things like email and blogs and pay-by-internet. And the the "match" thing blew my mind. As you all know, I have no money. All I could donate was $5, but I believed enough in what he was saying to give my five bucks. And when I completed the transaction, a little pop-up "matched" me to someone else who had donated the same amount, and offered to put me in contact with that person. I chose not to (cuz I don't like groups) but the concept was brilliant. BRILLIANT. Because it made your average broke-ass single-parent-me feel involved, part of a larger community. And obviously that worked, because he out-raised Hillary by almost 2-1.

The second thing that did it to me was Hillary's downward spiral. As a woman, she was caught between playing hardball man-style, or playing a woman's game. In my mind, she chose to play hardball man-style and experience has taught me that that just doesn't work. You can never beat a man playing a man's game... and I was surprised at her choice. I thought she would have known better. It ends up making you look more woman-like, and subsequently weaker than a man.

Women know how to use emotion. It is our strength. Men don't always understand it, and they complain about it and ridicule it but I have found that we still play better when we play our own game. Because there is a dynamic between male and female that's built in... everything has it's place. When a woman plays a man's game she upsets that balance.

I know lots of women disagree. They don't like to cry in public because it makes them look weak. But I know... having cried in public (though not often) nothing stops time faster than a woman crying cuz she's pissed the fuck off. Or distressed.

But Hillary chose to be a man, wearing the pantsuits, making the pants suits jokes, trying to beat the men at their own game, and the result for me was that she just looked bitchy, and shrill, and out of control. And I didn't like that at all. And what's worse, because she was busy playing a man's game she couldn't be a woman too, and control her man. Cuz Bill is out of control and needs a bitch-slap or two. To me, Michelle Obama displays more power in her fake pearls and plastic hair, cuz she's female all the time. And by her being so very female, you know damn well who's the power in that family. Pretty ironic...

It's disappointing, cuz if Hillary had played her woman's game and won, I'd respect her. If she had played her woman's game and lost, I'd still respect her and would have been overjoyed at the thought of her and Obama on the same ticket. But I've lost all respect for her as a chick. And if Obama put her on the ticket it would really cause some internal debate in my soul. She pissed me off that much.

To me, a brown skinned woman, the choice between Hillary and Barack was an interesting one. Do I support my sister? Or do I support my heritage? And even though I joked that my choice for Barack was because he looked good running through the surf, my overwhelming feeling was that it's about time we have a brown President.

There's a whole host of undercover issues in the choice between a "black" man and a "white" woman, too. Because for the longest time, in a slaveholders society, neither one had any power. Both were held hostage to the will of a white man. But ultimately, "Mistress" still had some Power Over, simply by virtue of skin color. And a white woman's say-so could mean a black man's death, and by very brutal means. And "white" women could vote long before "black" men could.

That wrong needed to be equalized. Barack's nomination, to me, is all the "reparation" brown folk will ever need. Money be damned. I'm good, now.

But I'm a little sad that Hillary had to beaten that way... but I don't think she was beaten by Barack. She got beat by her own people. But I'm no political pundit so all this is just the musings of an ordinary brown chick living a low-budget life.

I'm glad it's over though. The primaries were painful. It got to the point where I just couldn't listen anymore, couldn't watch except from the peripheral. It made me really sad. But it's done... he's the presumptive nominee and I hope that people get over their Billarymania, and over the inherent and built-in racism and get behind him. It's time we tried something new. Even if he got into office and played the same old games the same old way, the game will change by virtue of his skin color, cuz we're just that shallow.

Cuz something's got to give... the war has got to end somehow, gas prices have got to come down. Racism has got to be met head on. We need to take care of our children. It's time for Change, cuz Change is good.

Si Se Puede!

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Perspective

I wouldn't say I'm moping, though I'm decidedly unhappy about the situation with Nene for several reasons.

But I'm very understanding. The thing is, I'm all about fighting to the death for something I believe in, but as far as relationships go I have learned that it takes two. Two people fighting to the death to save or start a relationship is "love overcoming all"; one person fighting to the death to save or start a relationship is tantamount to stalking. Or being foolish. Or whatever, but the bottom line is it doesn't work.

The thing is, there is and has been "something there" and it took me a minute to put it into perspective and to become comfortable in my mind with the thought of an 18-year age difference, cultural backgrounds, religious differences, educational status, economic status. But I'm 43, and have had a multitude of experiences with folks in all of the above-named categories and like a chameleon, am very comfortable slipping back and forth. I never feel like I belong anywhere, so being in a particular group just feels like putting on a outfit... I can put on the uber-corporate suit and a scarf and pantyhose and walk into a corporate office building speaking standard English, but I can be just as (un)comfortable in jeans and sneakers walking along Southern Boulevard in the Bronx even though I don't speak Spanish. Or walking along 'Two-Five speaking the local slang. Where I'm most comfortable in is my own home, surrounded by friends and family. But I know that most people aren't that way... their surroundings define them as much as they define their surroundings.

I know there's something there because I got a phone call at 7 in the morning yesterday, while I was in the shower. The Sun answered the phone and was instructed to have me return the call when I could. And when I called back about a half hour later, the reason for the phone call was ridiculous... it wasn't something that even remotely needed to be discussed at 7 in the morning.

But while I know there's something there, and while I know I can overcome all the differences I'm not sure he can. I'm not even sure he wants to. And that's not something you can force someone into.

I also know that having a child with someone ties you to them for life--in some form or fashion... and it can tie you that person tighter than marriage, tighter than love. Blood always calls to blood, and the blood of two people running through a child is like a conduit. There's no escaping it... and I've seen that call to blood transcend time, adoption, people's intense dislike of each other. There's a power there that needs to be respected.

And love notwithstanding, I ain't blind to Nene's faults, and one of them is that he is more of a taker than a giver. And as I wrote a while back... I don't think that you should give expecting anything back. I think that you should give, and give freely, as long as it doesn't cost you. When it begins to cost you, you need to rethink. But even so, the person taking... there is a responsibility to pay back, or to pay forward.

After a day and a half of being intensely miserable, I called him last night after things had clicked into place for me.

I told him that what bothered me the most was that he was getting back into a situation with someone who had a fundamental lack of respect for him. Who gave ridiculous ultimatums at a time when he needed support and encouragement, who ridiculed him and belittled him, threatened him with his kid and then put him out of his home. And then, rather than grow up herself and advance herself and prove that she herself could live on her own, ran back to her own mother to save her. And now that he's in a job that he doesn't like, doesn't have anything to do with his passion but still has enabled him to very slowly, a dollar at a time, pay off small time bills, living a small life that she's comfortable in, now she wants to be with him, and is willing to accept "his" terms. Moving back from her mother's home, into his. Letting him be the man.

I told him I accepted his decision, in fact, I had no right to do anything else. I understood that he was compelled to try again for the sake of his kid, and that I knew he wouldn't listen to me or anyone else telling him that it's not going to work. (He also admitted that at this point I'm the only person in his family who knows this is happening.) Because when it was me, I didn't listen either. I knew in my heart that I had to exhaust every possibility so that when I walked away, I could still look my grown kid in the eye and say "I tried". It was odd, too, because he echoed the same sentiment back to me. He said he didn't want to hear me tell him "I told you so" when it didn't... and I said I never would because I didn't need to hear anyone say that to me, either. And truthfully, while I know that people say about me and TF that they think I was crazy for trying for so long, I know why I tried. And I don't have any regrets about trying... I just regret it was TF.

I told him too, that I know that being in love with him is crazy. It makes no sense but that I love him regardless. And I told him why; because he has a good heart, because he's honest and loyal, has a passion for what he does and is good at it, and is great with small children. But I said I wasn't going to stick around to watch him become ordinary, wasn't going to stick around to watch him be with her. I told him too that I wasn't mad at him... I was mad at me. Mad because I allowed myself to fall, mad because I let him in. Mad because I got involved with someone a little too close to home. You don't "shit where you eat" and I knew that going in.

What I didn't tell him (because it doesn't concern him) is that ultimately I'm mad at myself for falling for someone who was unavailable--something I do repeatedly. And I know I do it. But that's my issue...

The worst part about it all is that he listened--how many people really listen? And because he listens... I talk. Traditionally in these situations, spoken words fail me which is why I write so well. Writing gives me time to think... to put things in order. But when I'm trying to tell someone how I really feel I get flustered and sidetracked. So I guess I have to come away with the things he gave me out of this love for him... my heart, being able to face my deepest feelings, being able to actually tell someone how I feel. That's actually a pretty big deal.

It's going to suck though, and I'm not sure how I'm going to extricate myself, but I know I must. I can't sit and watch him be with her... and more importantly I'm not going to subject myself to her triumph. I told him she may not be fully aware of who I am and what's there, but in her heart she knows... and I know this because when the three of us are in same space she watches my every move. And I told him that regardless of what she tells you and what you think, the minute she's back in your life full time there will be no place for me because she'll make sure I won't be close. A chick always knows...

...And she knows because a chick knows in her heart that we only "do" for those we love. We don't "do" just to be nice. He had asked me yesterday, after I chewed him out, couldn't I just be kind. Couldn't I still be a friend. I told him no... the fact that I was giving and loyal to him was because I loved him, and had been waiting for him to make a decision. I told him he should know this for the next time--that chicks don't "do" just to be kind... and I told him you get "friend" or you get "business" from me but you're not getting both. I can't...

And so the project that we have needs to be pulled together by the end of August. It needs to be in motion by then, so that when I step out his dream can take off on it's own. I told him between now and then I'll do everything I can, pull in everyone I know to help him, but then I'm out...

Today I put things in motion. And I know that when they get rolling they'll roll fast; I told him today that in the future it'll be up to him to monitor progress because I don't want it. It' s not my dream. There were only two things I really wanted out of the project, and one of them I'm not going to get. And so I need to concentrate on me, on my own dream, my own kid, my own life. Nobody's looking out for me... nobody has my back... except family of course but there's only so much they can do.

Yesterday, I wasn't sure how I could extricate myself without affecting a lot of people. Today, it was almost easy to go back to normal, to have things be the way they've been the last year... but the thing is I know what I'm worth. I know what I deserve. I know what I'm missing now and that hurts, but I've lived without it for so long another year or three won't make a whole lot of difference. It's obvious God has some kind of plan for me and it's not what I thought it would be, but to keep fighting it is tiring. I just have to have faith that God's plan will manifest itself pretty soon, cuz I'm tired now.

Today I think I figured out how to leave, and it'll suck and be different but I'll be alright.

..but my secret heart still hopes ....

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

Hobknobbing With The Goobersmoochers

on Monday, the Sun and I were. It's why I didn't get to post. I wish I'd had the time to post the details earlier, before I felt like shit, cuz we really had a great time.

My mobile blogger hasn't been acting right so I couldn't post the picture from my phone... which was of the Sun getting his hair done. He'd had box braids for two weeks, and they had gotten nasty. So Sunday night I took them out, but it got too late to wash and tame the beast so I decided that since I had to go get my hair done, I'd take him too. Let the Dominican lady tame that beast.

And tame it, she did.

She had this yellow de-snarler brush-thingie, and while it took her a minute to get the snarls out, she did, and the yellow de-snarler brush-thingie actually worked. Then she wound strands of hair on HUGE rollers... the size of beer cans, or larger. Then she stuffed him under a dryer, where he sat for a little over an hour. As the FatLady remarked, hair dryers are much more powerful these days, and the Beast Tamer sat the Sun under the "hot dryers" in the back. The ones I usually sit under when I'm in a rush. He had these pink ear protectors and his DS, so he sat there calmly the entire time.

Then, she took the rollers out and blew the hair straight with a blow dryer. That took at least a half hour (with me it takes about 10), drawing a small gathering of ladies in the process. I was beginning to freak out because he had to be at Opus at 3P, and it was like, 2:55P but the Beast Tamer got it done by 2:58P. She worked so hard and so fast, I gave her a $15 tip over her $30 charge. Cuz me? There's no way I could have done that.

We made it to Opus by 3:06, having jumped in a cab to take us what, 5 blocks. A sin, cuz we could have walked it but we needed to get there. When we walked in, a hush fell over the kids assembled... no one has ever seen the Sun look "sleek". In fact, LilacBlue started calling him "Fuzzy" in school, and now everyone does. Yesterday, I called him "Smoothie."

At 3:15P, we got on a school bus, which took us down to the World Yacht Dock and we stepped over into fanciness. It was almost as if we were in the wrong place... white linens, real silverware and glasses, flowers on every table, white draped chairs with organza bows. Us parents looked at each other asking "this is the kids section???" Then we got a look at the swanky section, where the rich and famous would be, and the difference was quite clear.

Alan Alda wandered onto our deck, looking for his table. A parent said "I think you belong downstairs" to which he replied "no, no, we're at table 8". Uh, yeah, but not THIS table 8... the one downstairs. I said to him "It's not that we wouldn't enjoy your company, but there's a much nicer set up downstairs" and I walked him to where the stairs were. Really nice man... tall, white haired. He looks EXACTLY the same in real life as he does on TV... he's not stooped or particularly wrinkled, no entourage and a completely relaxed aura. I was always a fan, but after my brief encounter, I'm REALLY a fan.

The kids had a great time. The drank Shirley Temples and (virgin) Pina Coladas and pretended they were grown ups.


They got called down for a dress rehearsal, which was the only time parents could get close enough to get pictures:

...cuz when the kids actually played us parents had to stand at the rear of the dining area. We couldn't see a thing. But they played beautifully, like they always do. I have to say... Roberta may be formidable, and not exactly "warm and fuzzy" but what she brings out of those kids is remarkable. What she is able to expose them to, they will carry with them a lifetime. I have the utmost admiration for her. And she can be a tough cookie to deal with...

Kyle Massey from Nickelodeon's "Cory In The House" was there with us in the kid's section, as well as his brother Christopher from "Zoey 101", to entertain the kids as the celebrity guest. Holly Robinson-Peete and Chris Rock's kids were supposed to be there, but they bagged... "scheduling conflicts". For kids? Whatever.

Me, who doesn't watch these things, wasn't sure till just now who was who and what shows the Massey boys were on, but they were both there. Both very nice, grounded-seeming kids and most of our kids while impressed gave them personal space. Well, except for one. She's not one of "ours"... I don't think she goes to any of the public schools where Roberta teaches, but she takes classes at Opus. She's got to be about 14. And I'm not about bashing folks... least of all kids but goddamn if she wasn't blatantly trying to get picked up. Everywhere Kyle was, there she was, invading his personal space, showing off her violin skills (which are pretty good... but there are about 3 other Opus kids who play rings around her), leaning over him. What's worse was that her mother, who is definitely a stagemom-type, positioned herself so as to block anyone else from interrupting. As a woman, it was downright embarrassing. As a mother, it was embarrassing. It was so bad that other parents were commenting on the behavior of a 14 year old girl. And it annoyed the crap out of the other teenage girls there, because as long as "Sparkles" was there, nobody could even get so much as an autograph.

Moodmagicbarbie was there, accompanied by Bigbear as her chaperon. MMB looked beautiful; had picked her own, slightly punkish outfit and accessories. She's a funny kid. She feels like she's lived in the Diva's shadow for so long, but she really hasn't. She has always been her own, very solid little world. Her eyes are always watching, always seeing. She took a long time for me to get to know as a baby... she doesn't let you in easily, just like her auntie. And if you piss her off those gates come crashing down, just like Auntie's. And she was really pissed off at Auntie when the Sun came along, even though she loved him. TF used to be afraid of her: "You watch her. She's jealous of the Sun and I wouldn't put it past her to do something mean." And I wouldn't either, except I always knew that despite her being pissed off at me for supplanting her with the Sun, she knew the Sun was her baby. And he was... still is.

I didn't take any pictures of MMB, not even with my phone, and missed her playing guitar up on the upper deck where they were serving cocktails. She was mad because nobody clapped. I told her it meant she was so good they just figured she was the background music, and not some 13 year old kid. I've done bar gigs at cocktail hours... people rarely clap.

I think that MMB will ultimately be a bassplayer... she has that "lowslung" watchful look bass players have.

We cruised till about 10. Bigbear managed to hold it together despite some early seasickness. After the kids performed, at 7:45, I was about ready to go home but we were trapped and I couldn't go anywhere; it was freezing inside the cabin and the deck would have been beautiful if it wasn't quite so breezy, and the parent chaperons weren't allowed to "wander" without being herded back to the "kids section". I managed to get two "real" pina coladas, and the food was OK if you like chicken fingers, and I enjoyed the hell out of watching the kids be grown so overall, it was a good time...

I Knew It Was Going To Happen

...and I knew it would suck for me whenever it did, and I was right on both counts.

Nene told me today he caved, he was going to try again with babymama. Not only that, but the bitch is moving in with him come the fall.

Yeah, go ahead, comment that he's too young, and yeah, I knew it was coming, and oh, good you can move on and find someone else and yeah, nothing was happening anyway but it still really sucks, I'm not happy, I don't care what anyone says because it's not going to ease the hurt and I'm not going to listen or discuss any comments.

The irony of it happening today is pretty, well, fucking ironic, since I had just commented over on the Professor's post about exs/babydaddies. I know there's always a tie. I've also come to the conclusion that there are people programmed to "work it out" because that's what they've grown up seeing, and I recognized early on that Nene was the type. It's one of the things that drew me to him. I also recognized early that babymama was the type to prey on that.

He's dumb, too. And naive, and hopeful... all those things I was so long ago. I know that in the scheme of things his separation from babymama isn't that long... I mean shit. Look how long it took me to give up. Look how long it took the Professor to give up. And I've seen other people go through it... years and years and years and in the end it still doesn't work and people still separate. Sometimes, true, they don't... but in this case I don't think it will work for long. I don't think it will because in order for a relationship to work through a difficulty, both people in the relationship resolve to do the work on themselves... You can't change for someone. You can't change someone. You can only change yourself, and you can only change yourself because you see the need. You realize something isn't working, and you work to correct it.

And I don't know the chick that well, but in the last two years that I've been observing, I haven't seen her change herself, grow, advance. And I've seen him do that. She put him out, largely because she says he wasn't contributing to the household. And he was, but not what she expected. He had a dream, and while he wasn't bringing in a lot of cash at the time, he was actively pursuing and building his dream. It's why we started talking, because I recognized in him the desire to be his own person. So she put him out, and I felt for him because it was really rough... but slowly he has recovered, slowly brought himself back, and as for her... rather than do the same and support her two kids (only one is his) she ran back to her mama's house.

So now things are looking up for him... and she's willing to move in with him--on his terms he said. I told him right there it's not going to work, because if you're setting up "rules" and "terms" then it's more about Power and Control, and not about two people truly working on something.

And what do I care, really. What should I care. I've been telling myself over and over it wouldn't work, give it up and I didn't give in no matter how badly I wanted to because I knew it was coming, but it doesn't change how I feel.

We have a project we've been trying pull off, he and I. I saw him today and before we even got to the big announcement, I'd jumped on him because I could feel him giving up, sinking back into his comfort zone and I jumped on him with two feet telling him that sometimes you have to go out on a limb for something you believe in. That anything is possible, but sometimes it's scary as hell... sometimes you do put all your eggs in one basket, and walk carefully so you don't drop that one basket. Sometimes people tell you to take the safe road, be responsible, be careful, and sometimes you just can't be. Sometimes you just have to close your eyes, hold your nose and jump, with only God and faith as your parachute.

But then again... maybe that's my family curse. And not his.

I told him I was disappointed. I told him I thought he deserved better. I told him I didn't think it was going to work. I told him I bet him $100. He blinked... then he asked me if I'd be around to pay up and I said probably, unless I get disgusted and disappear. He said I couldn't just leave, I was the one to stand by him. Which is just pretty fucking ironic... and a clear case of somebody wanting to have their cake and eat it too.

He got mad cuz I was mad; I guess he expected me to fight a fight but I merely shut down. I'm good at that anyway. I'll cry later, when I'm not writing, when nobody's looking, when it's dark and nobody sees, and then I'll go on like I always do. Cuz I knew it would never work... way too many differences, way too many obstacles. And holding out against the odds never works anyway. There's no such thing as fairy tales.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

I NEVER Thought I'd See It

...in my lifetime.

A man of (openly) African descent nominated to run for President of The United States of America.

Wow.

Change.... can we really believe in it?