Returning to...

Ahhh…. I have missed my house so much…. I have missed my COMPUTER so much…. I realize that I am sorely sorely addicted. *shrugs * It isn’t too bad of a thing though, I think it is better than being addicted to the idiot box of a TV. I had to go to the airport after work today to collect my suitcase. The bag that I had taken with me was missing two of it’s wheels, but since I Had been in cars the whole time, I didn’t really notice it..but when I got dropped off at the airport I realized that there was no way in hell I was going to be able to carry that heavy, no– wheeled suitcase home with me on the bus… or even close to home. So I left it there and brought back an even bigger bags (that has all its wheels and is much easier to maneuver) to collect my stuff. I still haven’t unpacked, but that is mainly because I fell asleep almost as soon as I finished eating when I got home. Anyhow, I will have to pack the big bag up again as soon as I unpack it because that will have the stuff I am taking to Indy with me in it.

I am so enthused about moving… I can’t wait to get someplace that will be really mine. I mean this apartment that I am in now is mine, but I always knew in the back of my mind that it was only a stopping place before I went towards bigger and better things. The apartment I am going to find when I am in Indy tho, that IS the bigger and better thing. And since the apartments are so freaking cheap.. I am sure that I will be able to get something verry verry nice. Everything is together… all in one piece and the like. *smiles * I am so thrilled that nothing has happened to my place the entire time that I have lived here.. it is kinda nice. Makes me feel much better about living in the ghetto.

I have decided to write old entries from the days that I was gone in the order that they should be in.… There are some repercussions from the trip that I need to talk about… but I think I will wait until I have told all about the trip. It’s amazing how I can remember each day what I wanted to write about…mainly because I fixed in my head.. hmmm I want to write this in the OD when I get back. The OD has become a storehouse of my memories and my emotions and my feelings…. Some place that I can go back to later and look at and say yeah.. that is what was going through my head then… have I grown in understanding of it? And then of course there is the wonderful feedback from all the people out here…. *smiles * Blessings heaped upon blessings and then some….

Stay Jazzed.

I'm bacccckkk

*big ole smile*
HEYYYYYY OD Peoples??? I'm back, and can I just say that life is really realy funny? I have had the BEST time over the past week..with hardly any downs and a whole lotta ups.. I have SO much to catch up on that it is scary.. and so much to write about that it is amazing... but I'mma work on all that later.
I am sorry to say that I DID very little writing while I was gone (bad bad girl) but that was mainly because someone STOLE my favorite pen and I am very anal about having the right kind of instrument to work with when I am writing by hand. Once again... another reason that I need a LAPTOP. Be back laters....


Stay Jazzed.

The Day of the Dead

A day of fun in the sun, picnics, barbecues and the first official day of summer. The day that the USA is supposed to honor those who have fallen in the many useless and wasteful battles that have been held over money, oil, and the ‘democratic’ principle. A day that the ‘children’ in DC strut out and about and show their pride in who they are, unashamedly and fully. *smiles* Isn’t it odd that they are the one group who is almost forbidden from dying in a war, but who can be killed randomly on the street?

We didn’t do much today…I met L’s sister C.. : ) cool girl… and we went out and watched the children… prayed that it wouldn’t rain… saw a wonderfully good movie called the Croupier (only showing in ONE theater in DC … you gotta love the artsty movies), went back to L’s house…watched him cook for me, and read my love cards.

I don’t know if I have ever talked about these cards (I haven’t been in much of a state to need to use them), but they are a deck of cards called ’52 ways to stay in love forever’ I use them to focus myself, and to clear my mind, and to figure out exactly what the hell is really going on. At the start of any potential relationship of mine I lay out seven cards. 3 represent the strengths in the coming relationship… what would hold us together. 1 represents the breaking point, what will hold us together or break us apart, and the last 3 represent the breaks. or what will surely destroy us if we allow it to.

I thought about what be & Papi had… and what me might have… and what I wanted us to be, and came up with the following cards:
Strong Points:
Creative Collaborations: creating and building things together that will outlast us. Artwork, writings, and the like. I don’t see that as being a problem here.
Variety: Changing up how we do things, not letting ourselves settle into a rut of a relationship. Hmm… I know that I get bored quickly, so I tend to want to do life differently every morning…so this should be accomplished with a little work as well.
Sacred Time: Taking time away from everything else in life and simply spending some quality, awake time with your sig. other. Taking the time to reconnect to each other without any distractions or interruptions. This seems to be a wise thing in any relationship, but know how I run about.. it might be one of the hardest strong points to build up & on.
(I found it interesting how these cards laid themselves out in order from easiest to hardest)


Breaking Point:
Thoughtfulness: be aware that everyone has habits that will get on someone else’s nerves. Be aware of the habits that you have that will drive your partner batty, and decide on just how much those habits are a part of you, and whether you can discard (or at least tone down) on them t allow for a more harmonious relationship. Hm. This one may be hard for me simply because I am such an individual… I’m not used to letting anyone else dictate what I can and cannot do. *sighs* in this card right here is the whole compromise issues that I was concerned about.

Weak Points:
Tokens of Affection: Provide small things that show how much you care and love your partner. Little silly things can build up so much more. Since this card showed up in the weak points section, that means that it is something that we will have to work on. I know that I am one who is like ‘If I tell you I love you once I mean it… do I have to keep saying it over and over again??’ so this serves as a reminder to me that love must be talked about and shown on the regular.
Hazardous Waste Management: Take time out to release all of the bitterness and irritation that you have been storing up about your partner before it breaks loose and overwhelms the relationship. This is a VERY good one. I know that I tend to hold things in and then bust out at a totally inappropriate time about the little things that have been pissing me off for a good long while…and I know that may cause issues.
We’ve got the Power: Examine the power structure in your relationship. Many people assume that the passive partner has less power, when in actuality they may almost completely control the relationship. *nods* I have been called passive – aggressive many times, but hopefully my habits of speaking out will balance the exchange of power.

A bit of food…a few good movies…and bed once again. Even though I have not talked to Papi since he dropped me off (I really need a cell phone) I feel so much more at peace with my choices… a little guidance was all I needed.

Stay Jazzed.

Dance Fever

I too can FREE my mind….. cuz I KNOW my ass will follow.

Papi drove me to L.’s place this morning, and we talked more about this ‘thing’. He suggested that he come to Indy with me, and if we are to have any kind of real & serious relationship I think that it would be a good idea… but at the same time I had doubts dancing around in my head that were too too vague for me to put a hand (or anything else) on… mainly the fact that we hadn’t even decided what this ‘thing’ was, or what we might want out of/from each other.

As we parted at L’s house.. I told him that I wanted a straight answer from him, because I already knew what I wanted. After he left… I put the matter mostly out of my mind… except to explain to L exactly what the hell was going on… his only comment was… ‘Ya’ll might be jumping from step A to step ZZ without going through all the in between portions first, and that could ruin all that you all have’. Humph. I knew that and it was one of the reasons that I am kinda antsy about the whole concept, but I put all of it out of my mind and prepared myself for at least 3 days of freewheeling fun.

L had to run and do some work, so I went along and managed to get in a good 5 hours of sleep while he handled his bidness… making life so much brighter (stiff back and all) when it was time to go out. Our first stop of the night was to a house party being thrown my one of his friends. Mind you, I had decided that I would be spending the weekend with mainly nothing but gay men, and I knew that it would be….hmmm fun to say the least? And indeed it was… from drinking some of the most DELISH rum punch I have ever had, to taking digital photos of them in various poses, to going to a club simply PACKED with men and dancing your ass off. Earlier I had said there is nothing like the sound of hundreds of women lifting their voices in song, in the same way there is nothing like hearing hundreds of men chanting ‘can I get a fuck you’ in time to Jay-Z. Sent shivers down my back…

I now fully understand why many straight black women are bitter on the subject of gay black men. I met more tight, together, intelligent, working, FIONE AS HEEEELLLLLLLL black men this one night in a dance club than I think I have ever met at one time. I can see how sisters look at them and get bitter as hell… our men can be sooo beautiful, and it might make a sista angry to see so many of them totally out of her reach. Ah well… I know that I had FUN…. *smiles* I get flirted with more, and in a nicer way, by gay men that I ever do by straight men…. why is that? L says it’s the tits… and men no matter whether gay or straight have breast fixation… *grins* that may be… but I am cool with it…

After the fire Marshall shut down the club for overcrowding, we walked back to L’s house… and I fell asleep, knowing that I would be tight and sore the next morning… but having loved every minute of it.

Stay Jazzed.

Booooiiiinnnnnngggggg Rebounded

I don’t think that he expected the bonds to pop up again in just such a way.. in fact I think that he was more feeling the sexual tension than anything else. We left the bookstore with me in a state of shock… through the ride back to his godparents’ house we muttered in various ways… ‘ I don’t BELIEVE this is happening’ By the time we returned to his godparents house.. I had decided that it was time that we faced up to whatever the hell it was that was going on between us…we spent the time until the movie (MI:2.. it’s really not all that great) talking about the state of the world today with his godfamily.

I really have to learn how NOT to bite my tongue when people say utterly illogical crap about gay folx… *sighs* but I haven’t figured out how to call someone a bigoted twerp politely…After the movies we drove around...talking for the longest time… trying to figure out what we wer going to do about us.

It seemed like it was time to figure SOMETHING out, to stop running from the bonds that we have and explore them to their limits. I had called poor L. about 3 times by now, and finally called him to let him know that I wasn’t coming to his house that night… it was close to 4 AM and we still had so much talking to do. So we hunted for a hotel room (do you have any clue how hard it is to find a hotel on the spur of the moment on a holiday weekend...) talked, hugged, cuddled and eventually fell asleep.

Being with him felt right in an odd way…but the niggling wonder of whether this was all my neediness showing it’s head or something more haunted my sleep.

some bonds
will not be broken
no matter how much
you may want them to.

Stay Jazzed.

Booiiinnnggggggg

There are some connections and bonds that have to be honored…some binds that will not break until you have explored them to their fullest. I have run smack into a few of those bonds today, and the concept of exploring them is still making me quake inside.

I had been kinda ambivalent about going to visit Papi as I had planned on. At first the plan was for us to meet on Tuesday (the day I was leaving) but it got shifted to Saturday instead. I honestly wasn’t sure if he wanted to see me, because there wasn’t the excitement or enthusiasm, at least from him, which I had expected from a friend who I hadn’t seen in a year.

*grins* I mean L. who I had just seen at new years, was about to bust a gut in anticipation of seeing me…*shrugs * I don’t know… it was odd. So no real firm plans had been made as far as how & when we were going to meet, or what we were going to do…I figured that we would plan it out as we went. My mother sent me off with a hug & a kiss & an 'I love you' like she always does, and I was off to DC. I think I was sleep for most of the trip… sleep or reading...or listening to music…. I really can’t remember which, but the ride went by at a blur. S

ince I was coming into DC from the North I couldn’t seethe view of the city like I usually could, which left me feeling a little… lost. A little unsettled and antsy… but I got over it and moved on. I got to the terminal and looked for P. No where to be found… I knew he was picking up the car at 1:00pm…so I figured I would give him about ½ an hour to get to the train station…since he was only coming from the airport. I waited… and around 1:45 I figured I would give him a call.. *shakes head* pay phones realllly rip people off when it comes to making long distance phone calls. Utterly ridiculous. So he called back at let me know that he was on his way..

*sighs * I HATE waiting… one of my larger personality faults… but I wasted some money and waited. When he finally got there… I was happy to see him.. more so because I could stop waiting and get on with the rest of the day than anything else… we collected my bags and went back to the car.

I wanted this meeting to be nothing like the last one… I didn’t want the whole sexual tension/attraction thing to go on and I didn’t want to dredge up any hidden feelings (if there were any), so I made a conscious effort not to do some of the things that I had done on my last trip…. but.. I failed. *laughs * I flirted shamelessly, and felt so simply comfortable with him that I knew I was melting into a state where sexual tension was the next logical step. ON our way to the car he suggested that we go to see his godparents, and I agreed… finally I would get to at least see some of the people that he talks about so much.

*grins* Being around them made me realize exactly why I wished for an extended family. I felt such warmth. such love and acceptance in that room from those people as I ate their EXCELLENT barbecue.. it was amazing.. that is what family should be all about. Papi & I (mostly I) had to make a quick run to the mall so that I could get a wallet.. For once in my life I had actually had more cash than I felt that I could safely just stuff in my pocketbook and ignore, and he was kind enough to take me to the mall. I was starting to feel a little bit of something.. a neediness that I thought was coming from the fact that for so long I hadn’t been touched. and mercy knows I don’t mean that in a sexual way.. I mean a hug and caress from someone who cares… and being around him I knew that if I wanted.. I could get that and more…but why would I want to complicate issues so much?

MY mantra was leave it alone Jazzy… just let it be. I swept through the mall like a mad woman, and left bearing my treasures of wallet and umbrella, because the Baltimore sky had decided to begin pouring… and me expecting summer time weather was not dressed accordingly.

Our next stop (a quick diversion) was the bookstore. I could feel the tension building…like the electricity that collects before a storm…when I want something.. it is hard for me to deny myself.. and right then and there I wanted him… or more I wanted something that I knew he could give… I was wandering through the bookstore, with him tagging along paying more attention to me than he was to the books… last year our ‘scene’ had started in a bookstore.. and somehow I figured that once again… this would be the case. He finally made his move in the music section.. pulling me towards him and kissing me like I was lost…and for a while I was.

It felt so good… just kissing someone…just kissing him that I was overwhelmed by it. Shuddering I had to pull away because I was almost in tears. Tears or relief mixed with anger. I WAS not ready for this to happen… I DID not want this to happen… my heart stirred… wondering if this was something that could be of importance…and as I turned to emotionally walk away, I ran SMACK into those bonds that cannot be denied.

The Final Days...

All I have to say is I realllly need to learn how to drive. Traipsing across the little behind city is no fun…and mercy knows I am not going to want to do it in Indy… but the money the money the money… it’s always the money.

Today (since my plans were interrupted yesterday) I spent wandering around, visiting my old teachers and giving out thank you cards. Once again I had that feeling of a paragon… something to be looked up to. It really isn’t a good feeling… because it makes you scared to be human, to fail, to change from the high high road that you were balancing on, to a lower one that you can walk on with freedom. It limits you in what you can do, constrains you to what a paragon would be, and not who you are. Anyway… I did all my last visiting today… went to see my grandmother again and raid her closet, went to see my great-aunt… who seems trapped in her house with her husband like a mouse with a cat at it’s door….

I visited Mrs. J a woman who defies all of that ‘When you get old you can’t do blah blah blah’ mess that my grandmother chirps… every time I visit Mrs. J she refreshes me, and make me think that HEY…. that is how I want to be when I grow up and older.. I want to be a go-getter… a hot ass and an active woman…someone who knows that she has paid all of her dues.. and the world is there for her to enjoy..swung past the library one last time… got some email addresses of folx that I HAVE to keep in touch with.. some of those solid grandmothers and great grandmothers that remember how this city once was…

My mother then took me out to eat… *smiles * MAN but I love her…. so cool so wonderful and still my Momma… without a doubt or a bit of shame… she is the MOTHER, and I can do nothing but respect that.

After we got back in the house Little One came over and we went down to south street (another of those traditions) to browse about… that had to be even more depressing than MyTown. I have never in all of my life seen so many empty young people. Girls with the eyes of whores, dressed to get the most dicktention that they can, and the men who swivel their heads to look. The men who are rude & feed upon the young girls… and I do mean young. *sighs* I don’t even think that I can fully explain what I saw.. but I felt it… it was an utter lack of spirit…there was no peace on the street… no looking towards anything that was not either sexual or material…there was no thought of what could be, of what there is within themselves that could make them more beautiful than any amount of Mac or Lancôme ever could. There was no understanding that a fat wallet cannot conceal an empty heart… that a fat ass does not make up for a lean spirit. *sighs* It Hurt me to watch that… painful painful… painful….

Stay Jazzed.

Changing Faces

Why must the madness that is the friendship between me & Little One be so…mad? I have more or less given up on understanding him, more or less given up on him being and acting anything like your average human type person. But then I do something like spend a day with him, and everything gets turned all topsy-turvy again. So here is the tale, and here is the story.

He has a perfectly lovey job as a nurse in one of the major major big hospitals in MyTown’s area that keeps him working 12 hour shifts, and today was his only day off, so we went out to do our tradition of taking pictures in some park. It’s simply amazing to be with him in person and see how much freer and open he is than how he appears to be online. And it is also quite astonishing to realize that he is a master and saying very very little and meaning oh so much. Anyhow, we went riding around, on our way to the park. He was kind enough to take me on a few errands (since he had the benefit of a car) and go with me to visit my grandmother briefly. I wanted to go and visit my teachers and hand out thank you cards to them (still racking up from graduation) but I was having such a laid back time with hi, I opted not to…it would have taken away from the little bit of time that we could have together. He showed me *grins * big houses… damn near mansions of housing complexes that had sprung up in the far out suburbs. It was sad to see such progress and beauty only a few miles away from the dismal existence of MyTown, but…isn’t that how the USA is?

Finally…. We reached the park, and we began to take pictures. Mostly of flowers & grasses & trees & weeds. : ) My favorites, we did a lot of walking and exploring and then he hit me with the bombshell.… he wanted me to take nude pictures of him. * laughs * To say that I was in a mild state of shock is saying little. It’s odd that after all of this time of lusting after this boy, and praying that he would show me the LEAST bit of attention outside of a brotherly way, it was NOW… when I didn’t even WANT the child anymore…. That I would get to see his body. * sighs* As we rode back to his house to get some clothes that he could do quick changes out of, I knew that somewhere, something was getting a very good laugh at all of this.

I have never, in all of my life had so much fun with photography, never felt such a creative force in me as I did for those 2 ½ hours that we were out there. I know that it was partially because of my own eyes looking at him & the scenery, but it was also because I had such a wonderful & willing model, someone who was cool with sitting in ice cold water to get a good picture…someone who managed not to laugh at the sight of me in my sandals scrambling up rocks and under bushes. He has almost as good of a creative eye as I do (or better) and since what he wanted to have pictures of and what I wanted to take pictures of were roughly the same thing….everything came out rather well. Mind you, during this entire thing I was…hmm… aware of him as a model first, then Little One, then as a naked man. Interesting hm? I felt like FINALLLY….. we had reached a stable point, where both of our concepts of what the relationship was balanced out….fast forward to that night.

Me, Little One, Nee & JJ had decided to meet for dinner, hang out and kick it for a bit. I realized at that dinner table that I have been utterly spoiled by the caliber of friends that I have. I expect everything from them, and tend to get it. I have the most brilliant, beautiful, intelligent & open-minded people as friends… it is simply wonderful & amazing. Anyhooow…. Dinner was hoot…and afterwards me & Nee wanted to party… get a little bit of a groove.. a little bit of a shake on… in other words we was gonna go clubbing. We invited Little One & JJ , but they both begged off since they had to go to work in the morning, and it was already close to 11. So off to Nee’s house to collect some money and some clubbin clothes… and then we were off to the club. On our way there… the other shoe fell.

Nee & Little One had been having a conversation about his twisted relationships, and she was trying to grasp an understanding of his concept of friendship… in the process he asked him if he was sexually attracted to me….and the fool said yes. As she tells me this my mouth drops, my eyes glaze over, and I go into a state of shock. * sighs * just when I thought it was all over, all at piece and stuff, this pops up. Urgh.

There was nothing I could do or say…and in fact I simply pushed it to the back of my mind. I refuse to accept it, and in fact plan on totally ignoring it. The fact really doesn’t make a difference at this point, and since it is totally contrary to the way the child treats me… it won’t have much of an affect of our relationship. I hope. The day ended much as it had begun…with me staring at the roses on my dresser… and wondering exactly who the hell he is.

Stay Jazzed

Good Lovin Rockin

I am so depressed by the statistics for relationships. Marriages tend to have a 50/50 chance of surviving, people fall in and out of love like they are changing clothes, and everyone is looking for something that they swear cannot be found. I think that I have discovered the reason why.

If you did not grow up in an environment where you saw two people in love, interacting on a daily basis with all the highs and the lows and the pitfalls and the peaks that making love work requires, where would you get your concept of love from? How would you know what was real love and what was something else, like infatuation or random lust? You would have to go to secondary sources, and what is the main secondary source for love knowledge after the babblings of our just as lost friends? What surrounds each of us every single day that deals mainly with love? Music. Umhm… music… love songs.

After watching all of the videos that I have over the past two days (today was my sleep very very late & veg out day) I realized that I have an utterly unrealistic idea of what love is. I somehow expect my love to be hot and magical and passionate and EASY. I expect love to be something that is simple and uncomplicated and totally and utterly perfect, until suddenly it ain’t right no more. I expect to make it last forever , without ever realizing that I got work to do. I am expecting a love supreme, when sometimes all I have ever really wanted was real love. I have expected sex (that good love) to cover all of the holes and gaps and missing spots in a relationship, rather than realizing that communication is a powerful thang, and can overcome anything.

I got the urge to write a research paper on the Representation of Romantic Love in Popular Music, just so that I would be able to outline and set down exactly how backwards most of my assumptions were/are.
And in the process of thinking about all of this, I started to realize that some of those old school - old fashioned ideas might be best…saving sex until marriage, taking it slow. Yeah, there might not have been that crazy passionate love in some of our grandparents & great parent’s relationships, but they learned to love each other, they learned to be in love.

*sighs* Love is the biggest compromise there is, and * smiles * I remember saying earlier that I don’t think that I could ever be fully and completely in love because the compromises required were too high. After these last few months though, I am more than ready to compromise. *smiles* This latest heartbreak has cured me of all of my wandering lust issues. I am ready to *gulp* settle down. The next thing I get into, the next relationship that I have, I want it t be for keeps. I want it to be something that will last. Now I know that I could previously never stand folx who were looking for a wife, because it seems that they limited themselves to finding only those kind of people who were looking for the same thing. But now I realize that if that is what they want, then they are not TRYING to go through the hassle of opening up their heart to someone who knows that they will be transitory, a thing of a few months before they move on.

Now… I understand. *sighs* Growing up sucks sometimes. I have been looking at these videos with a really jaundiced eye, trying to see if there is anything that I can pull from them that can be useful. And the more I watch, the more disgusted I get. *sighs* Me…the queen of sexual freedom being turned ever so thoroughly turned off by the rampant sexuality of the music world.

*Sighs* Ah well… I think that my earlier free wheeling spirit may be coming to bite me in the butt. To me, most sex (mainly penetration) is not even a representation of love anymore. It is just something that folx do to get their rocks off. I feel like kissing and cuddling are about the sexiest and most intimate things you can do with someone…a hug or a touch on my collarbone inspires more feelings of love than a dick sliding into my pussy ever could. *sighs* Humph. The lessons learned too late to make a difference, the burnt child wonders what a fire is good for.

Stay Jazzed

Home Sweet (?) Home

It is kinda scary to me to see just how much folx have… thought of me and talked about me and looked at me as a wonderful, brilliant, beautiful person.
The airplane ride home was nice, hardly any turbulence, and I slept through most of the whole thing.. my kinda ride :) Any how, after we dropped my grandmother off (praise god) at her house, I decided to run across the street to the library, the site of my first job and many many fondly remembered afternoons. When I worked there I was still wearing a headpiece and fully covered in the style of a proper Muslim woman, so when I strolled into the Library wearing a short skirt and a short sleeved shirt my supervisors had to take a double take or two to realize that it was me they were seeing. *smiles * I love growing up. It gave me a really odd feeling to listen to the reminisces of how they hoped I would turn out, and magically enough I turned out that way.

Ms. B almost started crying from…shock? joy? at seeing me all grown up and ‘successful’ rather than beaten, broken women like many of my classmates who stayed in the city have turned out to be. I realized that part of the shame/sadness/tears that I shed when I knew that I was pregnant was for these people, the ones who damn near (it felt like) look up to me and use me as a character witness for others. I always told myself that other folx judgments on me don’t matter, that I am my own woman and I can handle the punches that life may throw my way. And that is still true, for the most part. My problem is that I am tenderhearted (yeah yeah really I am) and I hate to hurt those that I like, love and/or respect. :) The rest of the world can bite me. So I stayed there for a bit, and got the first of my graduation cash. :) I collected almost 90 dollars in one day, and I know that most (if not all) of it will be gone by the time I am going to Indy.

Then we went through the city real quick, juts so I could see what had changed… It is sad when one place can depress you so thoroughly upon entering it. This city is run down, tore up, and too damn stagnant to even try to make a push for change. My town used to be a bustling hub of business in the 40’s and 50’s when the big ships and the steel mills and the gasoline companies were working up and down the river like a busy highway. Then the mills closed (isn’t that always the deadly line in a story) and then the oil companies wanted more than just experienced labor, they wanted educated labor, and a whole strata of the town fell into unemployment and despair. Now it is the children and the grandchildren and the great grandchildren of the city who are there, and the few who are still there are only there because they have no vision to see of somewhere else to go. Those of us who KNOW we can go somewhere else, have gone…and there are very very few of us who have any plans of coming back. I can’t ever see myself coming back…it would be a step in the totally wrong direction. Even my mother plans on moving soon, leaving her mother and the rest of our small family behind, because she says she wants to go to DC. Hm. As long as she doesn’t come to Indy, it is okay with me.

The rest of my first day home I spent calling folx to let them know I was in the city (I am notorious for being slow on the tip) and hanging out with JJ. We talked about the tangled webs that two of our friends had woven around themselves and each other over love denied. Or love ignored or attraction dismissed or whatever the hell you want to call it. They have managed to turn themselves into two remarkably unhappy people, and they are going to lose each other as friends. *sighs * It is sad when something that could be so beautiful ends up so twisted and almost ugly.

I watched music videos too….lots & lots & lots of videos…and Little One brought me a beautiful dozen of red red red roses. Oh these flowers are so gorgeous and perfect I could sit for hours and just stare at them. I would take a picture but it wouldn’t even be able to carry off the beauty of these flowers right. *sighs * Sometimes I really can’t stand that boy… I dismiss him as a caring thinking person, and then he manages to bring something of beauty like this into my life…. what can I say? Chaos… personified and controlled.
Stay Jazzed

The ties that bind and GAG

Okay… as much as I sometimes moan and groan about how much I would like to have had a larger family, or to at least KNOW the rest of my family…other times I thank the creator that I don’t have any more of these crazy people because they would drive me nutty.

I love my mother unabashedly, unashamedly and fully. She doesn’t actually get on my nerves half as much as she used to, and that is saying a lot. However, she still has her own little odd ass quirks that bug me. Like lying. :) Okay… that sounds slightly worse than it actually is, but the ugly part is she is lying on ME. In a good way…. Like most of my family (uncle & grandmother included) have been deluded by her into thinking that not ONLY did I never take a break from school, but that I still managed to get a dual degree major AND that I didn’t take out any loans doing so. Mind you, even though this is completely contrary to what is REALLY going on, she persists. Personally… I don’t really care. I have (in my humble opinion) done a damn good job just to graduate… with anything… and with ONLY a year’s worth of loans. Thus, I have staunchly refused to get caught up in her little fairy tale world… and I have warned her that I won’t bite my tongue… :) if folx cal me on it I will just direct them to her. * sighs * what a tangled web.

And then there is my grandmother… who uses being old as her excuse not to do anything that she doesn’t want to do, being under the amazing impression that we won’t argue with her over it all the same. I sweat… I thought that if I heard ‘When you get older you can’t…. blah blah blah’ ONE more time…. I was really gonna scream. I still love her to the ends of the earth and back… but no where is it written that as you get older you have to start mentally experiencing rigor mortis. I shan’t even touch on how her and the Cat Pack (as I call them) nicely ruined my graduation dinner…but maybe I was being a selfish brat. *sighs * But then again, maybe I wasn’t.

Then there is the Cat pack. I have NEVER in all of my days seen two people who could be so hateful to each other. And the sad part is they are so hateful and argumentative with each other that nothing they do, even expressions of ‘affection’ with each other is unblemished by barely suppressed rage. They snap at each other like kicked dogs finding something weaker than it is, and they argue simply to hear the others voice. If my uncle had said, ‘My, isn’t the sky a lovely blue today’ she would have to come back with ‘Oh, R. it’s OBVIOUSLY periwinkle’ with the requisite roll of the eyes and snap of the neck.

*groans* Can you see how this would drive me wild? I am so not confrontational that I have been called passive, and both my mom & me have learned the delightful art of being still & silent when there is really nothing to be said. So to be cooped up in a car with these two perpetual chatterbirds, and added to it the fact that my uncle has been so spoiled (and still is so spoiled) by his 75 year old mother that anything he says is holy Grail to her…. let’s just say it makes for an ugly scene. My mother and I would sit in the front of the car and just trade glances of amazement at the scene going on in the back of the car.

All this is to say that tomorrow… when we get on the plane to leave, I will be overjoyed and blissed to be getting away from them once again for a long time.

Stay Jazzed

Here comes the.....

Written (or at leat thought about) May 21, 2000

Dumdumdum dummmdumdumdummdum…. * hums the graduation march * Okay.. even though they didn’t actually PLAY the march today (they used it all up on Class Day yesterday) I still had the feeling of really being in a processional. I am sure that the fact that I was the Marshall (my last name puts me at the top of most alphabetical lists) for all of the Bachelor of Science candidates helped. I don’t think I have ever been THAT nervous… and most of the people in there were not even looking AT me, because they were looking for someone else. *smiles * How do brides pull it off?
The commencement itself wasn’t too bad. And even though it was 3 and ½ hours long, it truly did not feel like it. We (the bachelors of science) were waiting, rather impatiently I might add, for the 330 BA’s to be called and receive their Diploma (a cover...a EMPTY cover) and we watched nervous and excited and envious as they turned their tassels. And suddenly….The President instructed us to rise, and all of the blood left my hands. I was HYPED. I wanted to scream to laugh to cry to dance…. I thought I was going to go crazy… I was the first to walk up, and I just knew I was going to stumble and fall…but I made it to the stage, the lady did not butcher my name, and I damn near snatched that empty cover out of the President’s hand… and then I think I floated across the stage because I don’t remember walking. All I remember is smiling and feeling nothing but joy. Back at the pew, I stood and watched and waited as the rest of the BS’s received their covers, and the smiles & tears that lit up the stage and their faces was amazing. The BA’s had been calm and staid compared to the expressions of joy that went across those women’s faces. Relief and excitement and nervousness, and once I think I saw a little fear…all as the moved from one side of the stage to the other. Then it was done. OUR valedictorian (her last name started with a Z…but she was most certainly TOPS in our class) crossed the stage…and we were almost crazy with anticipation…. As she said the RIGHTS… we sighed….and the PRIVELEGDES…. we cheered. Those four or five or six years of hard work were paying off… in a few seconds we would be entitled to the RIGHTS & THE PRIVELEDGES that these years had groomed us, taught us and trained us for. We waited…. Hands poised at the tassel, eyes fixed on her lips.. When those words finally came bubbling out of her lips we CHEERED like we had just….graduated. : ) I hadn’t cried….couldn’t even pretend to try to, I was sooooo joyful. Then we stood and held hands and began to sing the school song. The sound of a church full of WOMEN singing has got to be almost the most amazing sound there is.. and we sang our good-byes into the cathedral, and we sang of the friendships we found.. and the loves we lost and the dreams we came in with, and the hopes we were leaving with…and THAT is when it hit me. I suddenly realized that I wouldn’t be seeing most of these women again for a very long time. That this was it…the end… this is where our paths diverged, and that is when I started to cry. That is when the real feelings of loss hit me. Why I had not realized that this loss came as part of graduation before hand, I have no clue…but suddenly… I was sad.
We processed out of the chapel, and it took me about 20 minutes to find my family. I was hugged and kissed and lavished with love… and then I had to snatch my camera from my mother and start hunting for my classmates…those who I would want to remember. As I was taking more and more pictures the sadness settled a little more in me, and seeing all the smiles brought some joy. It had poured during the ceremony, so the world had a clean fresh smell and look to it. And most of the faces around me, even those that were red-rimmed with tears, had a look of eager anticipation, of straining to be GONE from here and into the rest of their lives.
I left the cathedral with sad good-byes and promises to email dancing in my ears. I had just taken the last step of my young adulthood...I had just processed away from any excuse at childhood. The rest of my life beckoned me…and I am looking forward to it with joy.
Stay Jazzed

BuhBye!

*quick wave to the OD world* I'm here for a hot second... I will not be writing on a regular (bad bad Jazzy) cuz my momma & my gramomma & my uncle & graduation & vacation & PARRRRTTYYYYINNNGGG will have me run-run-running....but ya gotta love em.
Hopefully I wil be back on a regular before Memorial Day..but I can't make any promises.
I'll be checking the notes & the email and the ICQ...so leave me a message ya'll....

Stay Jazzed.

Hanging Upon a Thread

running
walking
strolling
through life
she worries
about the obvious things
school
work
love
those last five pounds
never considering the other things
pain
anger
desolation
until
she is called to attention
and sees the sword hanging over her life.

I’m trying to process everything all of a sudden and at once. I’m trying to figure out why I suddenly feel hunted. I have lost the shell of invulnerability that tends to encase all young creatures of a species. I have stepped beyond knowing that everything will come up roses, and into a realm where the roses could be poisonous. I’m trying to process why I feel so hurt, so lost, so confused. Why life has suddenly become a very very serious issue…and not all fun & games. Why I am shifting into a woman who is so much harder than the woman I was. And I am trying to decide if I should even fight it. I KNOW that it ain’t all bad. I am surrounded by love and beauty on a day to day basis. But damn…there is so much pain out there too. Is there any way to leave myself open to the one and block away the other? Is there any way to ignore the sword and instead live & love freely? and if there is…would I simply be deluding myself? Would I be doing the same thing Little One is doing by ignoring everything he doesn’t want to touch him…and in the process ignoring so much more that just what he is avoiding? I’m confused. I really don’t know who I am anymore. I see the way I look at people, and I hear the things that come out of my mouth, and I notice the wordlessness I suffer when faced with occasions for empathy, and I wonder who the hell IS this woman? Where did she come from, and how did she sneak up on me? Even more important…do I want her around? Do I want to live with her? and if I don’t… where can I send her? to the back of my mind…where she will be steady whispering for me to look up and see if the thread is fraying…if the sword is still up there.
And then reminders that I am NOT dreaming the sword surround me. It is there…and it gets bigger every day, with damn near everything I hear in the news, every story I read in the papers, every study done on women. The sword is there, and it’s getting heavier. I am a young black single childless woman in a world where the norm states that I am the WRONG sex, and most certainly the wrong color. And that if I have the nerve to exist in that state…I could at least fall under the stereotypical position of having at least 2 babies and no husband. And so I don’t know what to say or to do and where to go. I am a stubborn person, and I have always KNOWN that I was perfect in being myself … cuz how can you compare the apples of me to the oranges of someone else…but suddenly I feel like I am collapsing under the weight of trying to be who the world thinks I should be…and I can’t become a white man… so I have to try to struggle through and find some big sistas who aren’t bitter, and who aren’t broken, and who know the sword is there, and manage to live their life as they wish anyway.

Work like you don’t need the money
Love like you haven’t been hurt
Dance like nobody’s watching.

Stay Jazzed.

The OTHER facts of Life (for us)

Excerpts from The Other Facts of Life : from Mad at Miles: A BlackWoman’s Guide to Truth by Pearl Clege
These are the other facts of life. The ones your mother probably didn’t tell you because she didn’t want to scare you. What she didn’t realize that being scared isn’t the worse thing that could happen. Being unprepared is much worse

Violence
In America, they admit that five women a day are killed by their husbands, boyfriends, ex-husbands, ex-boyfriends, or lovers.
In America, the main reason women are hospitalized is because they have been beaten and tortured by men.
In America, thousands a women a day are raped and/or tortured and abused by men in as many ways as you can think of, and probably a whole lot more you haven’t thought of, and don’t want to, including beating, shooting, scalding, stabbing, shaking, and starving.
All men are capable of abusing women, no matter what they tell you or what they call it, so don’t kid yourself about this one or that one being different. It takes years of work & trust to eliminate the probability of violence in relationships between men & women. Don’t think you can rush the process because you wish you could.

Rape
Review the facts at the start of the section on violence. Let yourself think about them and feel what they really mean to each of us. Keep them in mind while you read about rape.
Rape is a crime of woman-hating and violence. It is NOT a crime of passion or a sex crime.
The victim of rape is never, never, never, never responsible, no matter what she was wearing, where she was walking, what she was doing or who she went out with, had a drink with, married, kissed, flirted with or lied to. Bad judgment and carelessness are not punishable by rape.
NO rape is ever justified and no rapist ever has an acceptable reason or excuse. Ever.

Sex
Take complete responsibility for birth control. Of course, in the best of all worlds, men would share equal responsibility for birth control. but realistically speaking, they won’t take it as seriously as we do. They can’t get pregnant.
Take complete responsibility for safe sex. Protect yourself against AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases by always carrying and using your own condoms.
Don’t fake pleasure, excitement, or orgasms. There is no excuse for it, no end to it, and no way to justify it. Whenever you find yourself considering ‘faking it’, ask yourself why & who benefits from such bullshit?

5/18/00

Done with the house.
Kinda off-center and a little sad. It's quite amazing how relationships & friendships pan out. What is the proper protocol for when one 'friend' who has not really shown a friends' face in the 8 years known, does rude things to a real friend...who you have only known for barely a year. *sighs* I don't know what to say. It is sad to see someone so...withdrawn and closed up. Why does he do this to himself? What the hell happened to him to make him feel that we won't accept him AS the man that he is, that we, of all people, are not trying to convert him into who we want. All we ask is that he opens up...but I guess that is asking him to be who he is not. We can't ahve it both ways...for him to be himself, and at the same time share that self with us. It isn't how he is wired. And honestly, I have gotten tired of fighting. *shrugs* HE has to make his own choices, and if those choices include abandoning friendships in the name of some purity of desire, then more power to him. I don't go where I am not wanted nor invited. I'm babbling a little...but I hate to see so much hurt just floating around. And considering that I am about to go home (mostly to see him and another friend..cuz Nee is in finals), it is odd. He hasn't really SPOKEN to me online in damn near a month... *thinks* he was 'there' during the abortion...but I don't really think I needed much more than a passice ear at that point. After that....silence. hm. Maybe it's just me.
Well... Tommorow is Class Day. I need to get some beauty sleep...

Question: What play did 'Sleep, perchance to dream' come from? Was it a midsummers night dream, or another one of Shakesphere's plays?

Stay Jazzed.

Lonely Hearts.

aloneisabadword
itmeansalways
singleinaworldoftwos
itmeanssleepingsolitarywhen
everyoneelseisintwinbeds
itmeanscoldwhenall
othershaveasharedwarmth
itmeansalwaysoutside
lookinginandknowingthatyouhave
tochangetosomething
notyoutobecomeoneofthemandbeone
yetstillalonebecauseyou
arealwaysyouevenifyouaresomeoneelse
itmeansalwaysangryatyoubecause
youdidnothavethestrengthtostayyou
andhadtobethem
sellingouttobestrongisinitself
aweaknessbecausethereisaseparatepeace
forthosestrongandalone
andthosestronghappytogetherbutnot
themself/ ifishouldchangeiwould
dieofmissing

me

.

Boo!

My mind is on super slow tonight for some reason… it has taken me longer to do simple mental tasks than ever. Thank god most of what I did tonight required only physical skill and agility. So now I’m here… before the blank canvas of a computer screen...and it is time for me to write something that is worthy of being written… something that deserves to be on paper… and my mind, as if freed from the shackles of the mundane…begins to fly.

Fear…fear of others…fear of death…. fear of life… fear of self. I can understand fears… most of them anyway. I have never been afraid of death… to me it is useless as being afraid of children growing up. It HAPPENS. Death is the natural ending of the saga called my life, and while I am certainly nosey enough to want to know what happens later, I’m not afraid of missing out. Fear of others…there is a part of me that is disappointed by the fact that I consider others (those strangers on the street) important enough to fear. And then there is a part of me that rejoices in knowing that because they are important to me…somehow I am important to someone that I don’t know, and may never affect except for by my mere presence.

Fear of Life. Fear of Self. I didn’t even consider that either of these fears were possible (though I am sure that we humans can be terrified by anything…) until a few nights ago. A chance heard comment… ‘I don’t like being alone, because there is something about myself that terrifies me’ led my mind down paths that left me shivering and tired. How can someone be afraid of himself or herself? What can there be within you that is not a part of you? That is like being afraid of your hand…or looking at a foot and screaming in terror….but much worse. This person is claiming that they are afraid of what makes them who they are… that they have a fear of the one thing that they can never get rid of….and that made me think of being afraid to live. Living is such a tedious & dangerous thing sometimes. Every breath leaves you open to horrors that most of us have simply stopped being aware of for the sake of our sanity. Stepping out of my front door in the morning leaves me wide open to harm, in all and every form. Yet I continue to do it, most of the time unaware of just how much, if I allowed it, fear could run & ruin my life. I suddenly can understand people who want to commit suicide. I wouldn’t want to suffer through a life that was not really living… but was rather a constant cringing from everything that is life. I would have to find something tall to jump off of… or something heavy to get hit by…what would the bother be? What would the use be?
Living a life devoid of any joy is not living a life at all. Before, I couldn’t understand how anyone could assume that the rest of their life would be as empty of joy as the previous years of their life had been. Now…now I understand. If the thing that is depriving you of joy is yourself… the only way (as far as we know) to escape the fleshy temple of your body is death. There is no other choice. and Only The Strong would be able to create, from the thing that terrifies them most of all, another option.

Stay Jazzed.

Icing

*sighs* I am almost done... although I spent entirely too much of my time online tonight, I still managed to get quite an impressive amount of work done. Having cleaned up most of the madness a few weeks ago, at this point it is more just a matter of putting the final touches on everything. *sighs* I realllly can't wait until all this is over with.
Hm. not really writing much tonight... tho I do have few topics that I want to expound upon at a later date. Mebbe tommorow....

Stay Jazzed.

Wash the floor!..Iron my dress!.. Get the water!!

To Do:
Clean bathroom.
Clean living room
hang curtains.
clean kitchen
wash walls
call florist
wash clothes
go to work.
go grocery shopping
call Indy.
clean bedroom
change sheets
vacuum floor
clean computer
clean fridge
clean stove

*sighs* I feel like cindy-cinderella… but I know that in the long run I am doing this for myself. If my house is not as clean as can be when Mum & G’mum come… I will hear about it alll week… and the entire time I am at home… and once I move to Indy… and so forth and thus on. *sighhhhhs* I really wish I could just hire somebody to do it for me. Ah well.

My life? Stabilized… went out last night. met a guy I met online… that was nice. I think it was a date, but I’m not sure. Enjoying being at work… it’s a lot more peaceful than school was. *grins* I got good news today. The teacher PASSED me. *nods* yup… I have no shame in admitting that he passed me. Though I did get close to a C on my own (a 91 on the final… WHO HOOOOO ), he definitely gave me a few points. *smiles*
ah. food and sleep… in that order…
Song of the Night: Whistle While you Twerk

Stay Jazzed.

The Life U save...

The life u save may be your own
or it may be your lovers
your friends
your unborn child's
protector
father
mother.
the life u save
is someone's
or your own
promise of
love
glory
affection.
the life u save
may save u
or may challenge u
to save yourself
the life u save
may save us
or let us see
the unity in life
we cannot
see ourselves.
the life u save
will return to u saved
but always willing to
save u.
THE LIFE U SAVE
WILL BE
YOUR OWN.



Stay Jazzed.

I got Flowers Today.....

I got flowers today. It wasn't my birthday or any other special day. We had our first argument last night, And he said a lot of cruel things that really hurt me. I know he is sorry and didn't mean the things he said. Because he sent me flowers today.
I got flowers today. It wasn't our anniversary or any other special day. Last night, he threw me into a wall and started to choke me. It seemed like a nightmare. I couldn't believe it was real. I woke up this morning sore and bruised all over. I know he must be sorry. Because he sent me flowers today.
I got flowers today, and it wasn't Mother's Day or any other special day. Last night, he beat me up again. And it was much worse than all the other times. If I leave him, what will I do? How will I take care of my kids? What about money? I'm afraid of him and scared to leave. But I know he must be sorry. Because he sent me flowers today.
I got flowers today. Today was a very special day. It was the day of my funeral. Last night, he finally killed me. He beat me to death. If only I had gathered enough courage and strength to leave him, I would not have gotten flowers...today.

STOP DOMESTIC VIOLENCE TODAY!!! DO NOT TOLERATE IT!!!!!

I got this in an email a few weeks ago…and I just read it, got thoroughly upset, and left it there, because I didn’t really know what to do with it. I’m still not sure what to do with it…because it touches something in me. It’s odd, because while I have never been subjected to physical/sexual (why are the two separate? isn’t sexual abuse the most abusing of all physical abuses??) abuse, I know entirely too many people who have been, whether in a relationship, or a marriage, or whatEVER and it scares me. It scares me because no one, male or female is safe from it. It scares me because as a woman, I have a 75% chance of being exposed to abuse on my body at some point in my life. And there is nothing that I can do to protect myself from it. I make every effort to ‘keep safe’, and no matter who ‘he’ is, I try to be sure that I am alone with no man who I don’t trust with my life. And trust me…most of those men are gay. But waayy back in the back of my head, I know that I am never safe… and I know that love can turn in to pain and even death. And I know that people may ignore my pain, and that even I may ignore my pain. And I know that every time I walk down the street… I take a chance. And that knowledge sits in the back of most women’s minds…no matter how many self-defense classes they have taken…or how fast the can run… or how unattractive they may feel themselves to be. We are hostage in our own bodies…on the constant alert & guard against violence.
I wonder if men fell the same way, and I can’t imagine that they do. I am not saying that I feel weak, or that I feel like prey, I am saying that I have the awareness that someone else may look at me and see me as weak, or as prey, or as a victim, and that I may have to fight for my life & my soul… and that I only rarely can I be totally safe. And I know that the only thing that may save me…beyond me being able to save myself… is for others to see what is going on, and assist me. So I’m doing this with it….scattering it out you the people in the Open Diary (many many many more people than I will ever have email addresses for) and with it, a plea.

If you see someone being hurt, whether it be a child, or an adult, or if you SUSPECT that you are seeing the side effects of someone being hurt…talk to that person…ask them if there is anything that you can do…anything that they need. And if you even consider yourself the least bit of a friend to that person… KEEP asking them until either you are CERTAIN that nothing is wrong, or until they turn to you or someone else for help. I am asking this for YOUR daughters & sister & brothers & cousins & sons & mothers & fathers & aunts & friends & loved ones. I am asking you this for every ONE who has ever had someone lay hands on them in anger or rage…I am asking this for ANYONE who has ever been harmed by someone they loved. I am asking that you do this for yourself…because the life you save my be your own.

Stay Jazzed…

Dreamin

Some days are simply not meant to be productive…and for me, today was without a doubt one of them. Out of the 24 hours that exist within the day, I slept for at least 19 of them. Am I complaining? oh no..not in the least…not only did I get to have some simply mahhhhvelous dreams, but I also may have almost let my body catch up on the sleep that it hasn’t really been getting for the past two months. And considering that my next few weekends are going to be jam packed with fun (or late nights, depending on how you look at it), I’m taking my sleep where I can catch it. Now…since I have been sleep for most of the normal daylight hours, I don’t (as far as I can remember) have a whole lot to talk about. I would like to analyze one of the dreams I had (seems appropriate no??) but I can’t remember any of them…. or at least not enough of any of them to analyze. However, previous dreams of mine have given me fodder for quite a few stories…. the Love & Hair story I wrote about earlier was partially from a dream, and partially from my own hopes of having somebody else love me & my hair as much as I love myself . (Yeah.. my hair can be a separate part of me sometimes.)
Anyhow, the story that I am working on now (with the help of a certain manic editor/writer from Baltimore…: ) ...) came from a dream. The story itself is a few hours in the life of two women who are ‘trapped’ in a Muslim cult, and suffering from severe abuse (on all levels). Most of the important details of the story came from the dream (which was really more of a nightmare), and while the underlying premise of it was drawn from my earlier life, I am not sure where the abuse came from. Perhaps it was a reflection of the bitterness that I have towards the time while I was ‘muslim’ or perhaps it is a reflection of the verbal/emotional abuse made physical in the dream. I’m not sure…. but I know that the story will always be more to me than it will be to anyone else. Even though it isn’t really graphic (all of the abuse referred to is in the past, and is shown by either bruises or memories) it still gives me a shiver each time I read it, and I don’t think that it has that same kind of visceral shock to others. I am considering publishing it… but I don’t know where it would fit. IT really isn’t a happy story, in any way…considering that it ends with an act of mass murder, its really quite an unhappy & violent story…but I know that it has a place somewhere.
Hmm… what else have I gotten from dreams? The baby’s name/sex came from a dream… some of my sweetest memories are formed in dreams of things wished for and never achieved.
(blagh. sucky entry….but ah well...I’m not really awake)

Song of the Night: Everything Must Change (the Oleta Adams version)

Stay Jazzed.

I wanna *YAAWWWNN* go out and play

*yawns* so tired…. my sleep patterns have been thrown entirely off track.. so that the high point of my energy comes around 2 in the morning and I get dead tired around 2 in the afternoon. *sighs* I have forced myself to be awake all day today, and hopefully I will be able to change myself back over the weekend so that I can go to work and be bright eyed & bushy tailed.

Today my subject of amazement/worry is the fact that I have really.. no hanging partners in this city. I left work WANTING to not come home…wanting to go somewhere and interact with people on a level that has nothing to do with a school…do a little flirting…have some fun. And I realized that not only do I not know where to go to find such a thing… I would have no-one to go with who could be my hanging/joking/chillin partner. It’s rather sad actually…The fact that off of the top of my head I can rattle off at least five people who I could call on in a second for anything regarding computer science… but I have no one to call on for a little relaxation & rejuvenation. So I took myself home… ate a little… and got on the phone with this guy who I used to get wild with… but who is just starting to bug the hell out of me. He says that he wants to ‘hook-up’ at some point this weekend… and I interpret that as ‘get a little freak on’. To say that I am not interested is…an overwhelming understatement, but I might be reading him wrong. *laughs* not.

So… I have to figure out how I am going to …. finagle a delicate no no and HELL no into this situation in a way that he understands… without crushing the delicate male ego that is so closely related to the appreciation women show for the male genitals. *sighs* I really really really want to go to sleep… and I am not doing anything to keep me awale. *sighs* Maybe I will call some of my sorors and see if they want to hit the town for a bit…

Maybe I should get used to this as this is JUST what it will be like in Indy. Tho I suppose I will be doing a lot of driving practice after work…as well as learning my ‘new’ town. hmm… I don’t know… I can’t reallythink right now….


Song of the Day: Friday night, Just got Paid.


Stay Jazzed.

Tell me Why....

Why don’t I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of me? I feel like I have forgotten something that will make this end of things be complete… like there is a hole in what should be the perfect ending that I can’t quite see to patch. I don’t know… maybe I expected to feel so much better about having finished all of my finals with no obvious cases of falling flat on my face. Perhaps I expected to much of a WHOOSH of relief as I turned in that last test… *sighs* All I know right now is that I am not as tired as I should be, and I don’t feel like anything has changed. ah well… maybe after I get more rest and relaxation I will feel more of a sense of completion. Or maybe after I get my grades… and I KNOW that I have completed. Umph…. hell week… all I am waiting for now is the probate show.

What is faith? What do people mean when they say put their/your trust in God to make a way? I could never understanding the blind patience to wait for something/someone to make a change in your life that you have not initiated. I suppose it is mainly because my god is not an active god…my god is not directly and daily involved in my life. MY god is a construct, a idea that allows me to see the wholeness in my world, and to be aware that everything is somehow connected through something that is at the same time both greater than and part of us.

My god has never been one that steps in when I fuck up and make it all right…my god has never been one that changes what I know is coming to make it into what I want to come…my god is never there holding my hand…because my god knows that I have the strength and the grace and the intelligence to walk this path on my own two feet... because that is how my god made me. So the idea of someone waiting patiently for their god to lead them towards what they have not themselves made an effort to grasp is…boggling. It is a cop-out…a refusal of their own god-given strength and intelligence… if god planned on doing everything for us…why bother giving us minds to think and hands to act? If god did everything…or anything for us directly… why are people still maimed in the soul… with their killers of the spirit walking about scot-free? If god does for anyone… how can god not do for all of god’s children??
I suppose that it is this view of god that makes me leery of organized religions.

I cannot understand the thought of bowing to/appeasing something that has… over the years shown absolutely no interest in anything… that I have to say. And if god is so mighty and so powerful…how can god at the same time be so petty as to get pleasure from the obeisance’s of god’s own minor creations? And these creations think that god will only hear their words...but overlook how they treat the REST of god’s creatures? my momma always told me that actions speak louder than words. And the random acts of blindness that are apparent is organized religion… the assumptions that all others are going straight to hell… umph… if god made you… god made you in the image god wanted you to be in… and the form god wanted you to be in …and with the heart god wanted you to have. yeah.. I believe that god made twisted people… and I believe that people are almost always in control of their actions… and blaming what you have done on god is the worst kind of cop-out there is.

I have never really examined my thoughts on god & religion so deeply… I just always knew that they were not for me… it makes so much sense… when you can’t actually honor & congratulate the maker… to instead respect and honor the maker’s creations. And I do believe that everything that exists is a creations of gods… me… these damn neighbors of mine… the spiders that wander through my house…the fools who are blind to what needs to be done to at least start making earth a safer & better place for own children. I believe in the Big Bang…and in god said “ let there be light”…. I believe in Darwinism…and the creation of the original people… I believe in the Garden of Eden…and in the fact that the first humans lived in Africa….I believe in god… who makes all things possible… because god has made all things…and I see no contradiction in that.

Stay Jazzed.

5/11/00

*tired smile* by writing two entries in a day... I managed to reset myself.
This morning...as much as I would like to write, I can't. The energy is just not there...and I have a test to study for. Perhaps later.
This will hopefully be the last night for a very very very very very very very very very very long time, that I stay up all night..doing something that is distinctly displeasing to me.

Number One, *long pause* make it so...

Stay Jazzed.

Twisted

There are some people who deserve to be destroyed. Not killed…but destroyed. There are some…some creatures that death is entirely too good for…and I don’t care if they go straight to hell…death is STILL too good for them
Sometimes… I KNOW the Old Testament had the right idea… an eye for an eye…a hand for a hand… a life for a life…a soul for a soul…a heart for a heart. And then there are some things that can never be replaced…what can you do to those who have destroyed them?
I am so rarely speechless…but there is nothing I can say. There is NOTHING I can say…and that can only give me a tiny piece of what it feels like to be utterly and completely helpless & alone in a world that is overwhelmingly & totally dangerous to your soul.
Some creatures deserve to be destroyed. I really don’t care what else you have done right in your life…some wrongs are too great to ever be forgiven.
and those wrongs...are usually the ones that are hidden the deepest…by those who did them...and those they were done to.

Closing Time

Okay…. perhaps I should just give up on trying to post something the SAME day, and instead just submit my entries very early in the morning…considering that is when they are written anyhow. I think I wait so long to write them because writing shortly before I go to bed is…peaceful somehow. I clear everything out, and go to sleep with a clear mind & conscience. That is the best way to do it I suppose. I don’t have much to write about tonight… mainly because I didn’t do much today. I decided that today would be an official hot-gyrl day, and thus dressed myself to the nines and went out and got some sun & some stares and a book (can’t leave that out now can we?). I also did some clothes sizing.. to determine just what size clothes I can wear so that my mommy can by me some stuff. I also brought a ticket to the Big Game, but regretfully didn’t win : ( ah well.. .hopefully no one else won either and it will swell like an ballon in hot weather and I will win on Friday…. yeah right.
I was talking to a new acquaintence on AIM today, and somehow we got on the topic of fathers. As we were talking, I realized that my father was 24 when I was born…and while that isn’t THAT old, it is rather old enough that a man should be prepared to take care of a child. Instead, as he admitted in al etter me me 18 years later, ‘he got scared and was too immature to handle the challenge’. * sighs * And folks wonder why women become mature faster…do we have much of a choice?

in cases of extreme regret
all that holds you together
is the knowledge
that what was done
was done by another
and what needs to be done
will be done by you.
in places of extreme sorrow
all that can bring joy
is the awareness that
this too, shall pass
and that it could not have been
prevented from coming
in times of deepest despair
all that keeps you sane
is the peace of love
and holding as true
that the sun
always comes
after the rain

Talking to another friend (yeah… I am turning this into a recap of my AIM conversations of the day/night) he mentioned that had I met him two years ago… I most likely would not have been as much of a friend as I am now, because he was a bitter & angry person. That set me to wondering…what if? The biggest question in the universe is NOT ‘who’s the daddy’ but what if… what if I had met him two days later? what if I had moved to DC and then to Trenton rather than the other way around? what if the IUD had worked? what if he had stayed? what if he had moved? what if she had given up? There is that terrifying blank spot in our past that is the realm of other worlds… other paths not taken.. and it can almost drive you mad to think what if that path had been taken. And sometimes.. it can be just as terrifying to consider why this path was taken. Each moment of each day that we live has the potential to change us totally and radically, and each moment of each day that we have already lived HAS changed us radically. As much as I like to read, I could never get into time travel books because they always struck a little too close to home.

I sleep…perchance to dream. or not.

Stay Jazzed.

Inner Quandries & Issues

It is odd to have to try, as a black female, to NOT be bigoted/racist. I have had a different life/childhood and so that has led me to have slightly more of an open mind than most people, but I still find my self on occasion falling into those traps that our culture seem to leave…big gaping holes that simply INVITE you to make a fool of yourself and insult half the folx around you. In addition, considering that I have also had to train myself out of the habit of speaking before I completely THINK about what I am going to say… well I have had some occasions when the floor opening me up & swallowing me whole would have been Nirvana.

Today, as I was taking a final, I realized that I consciously have to not make assumptions about the sex or age of people or examples. I KNOW that in our culture he/him is considered an appropriate word for generalities of any gender, but how can I consider myself a feminist and use them so casually? I have caught myself making comments about ‘natural hair’ to a black friend of mine whose hair grows out of her head straighter than anything Crème of Nature could imagine, and wondered where that subtle racism/colorism crept into my thought processes? I catch myself saying Jesus, or Merciful Mother of God, and even though I am nothing even resembling Christian/catholic or any other the other major religions, they pop out as if I was a rosary carrying nun…and I can’t figure out why & how.

I cannot solely blame it on growing up in culture where such things are the norm. While that does ( obviously) have a major impact on how people think and how they view the world, shouldn’t my conscious understanding that some ways of viewing the world are just WRONG override that? I have never fallen into the ‘bone thin is in’ ideal, or the ‘light & bright is right’ ideal that tends to haunt African Americans, or even the good hair fallacy (which I grew up hearing about ALLLL the time). So how in the WORLD did the sexism creep up on me? It is rather scary that something that I make a conscious effort in my day to day life & actions to reduce… still creep out of me in such subtle ways.

Maybe I am stressing over it too much…maybe it is just one of those side effects of living in America and being bombarded with constant images of what is right & what ain’t. It makes me wonder what ELSE that I would prefer not to be a part of me is tucked away inside of me as a side effect of living here, in the land of the brave & the free.

Okay.. a TOTALLY random and side note…why is my body acting crazier NOW than it was while I was pregnant? I told my mom that if I didn’t KNOW I was pregnant I would never have had any clue…and now that I am not pregnant anymore…I get nauseated in the morning…I get bloated…my breasts are tender… I mean REALLY!

I finally finished one final. Only one mind you, but thank god (see..there it is again….I would say thank the goddesses but.. I am not in touch like that to be comfy saying it…it seems rather like sacrilege), it is the one for the class I have been stressing about. I think I did pretty good, but I am hoping that he will have mercy on me. *sighs* I mean he is LEAVING anyway…speaking of which… (another random note) the Comp Sci department at my school only has 5 teachers, one of whom is the department head & doesn’t teach much, and another who is a newbie ( this is his first year here). Yet…at the Senior Farewell (which had us in TEARS) the other three teachers announced that they were LEAVING. To say we were in shock is putting it mildly… oddly enough we (the seniors) feel betrayed, even tho we would be leaving them. It’s an odd reaction on our part, and the poor juniors are devastated. So, I’m hoping that since NONE of them will be here next year, they would not be cruel enough to force ME to be here next year. But then again, they might just say.. hey.. I’m gonna give her the grade she got *shudders* That might get ugly. All I want is a C. *grins* Like Shasta said… C stands for CASHMONEY!!! Well, that ain’t EXACTLY what she said, but you get the general idea.

Okay… my head is going ballistic and I am starting to hear things, so I think I will go to bed now.

Stay Jazzed.

ummm... Stuff.

Forget about Love & Basketball…. the next big movie should be called Love & Hair. Yes…. this is going to be another one of my hair rants. It’s been entirely too long without one.

Okay… before I get into it.. I need to give a description of my hair. I have shoulder length (on a good day) thick, Thick THICK hair. I am talking thick here people. Amazingly, scarily, thick. I have so much hair on my head that it scares me(and small children who see me with my hair out).
And the simple fact is… each and every strand has a tiny little mind of its own. And the main focus of all of their minds seems to be doing the exact opposite of what I want them to do.
For example: In late December I decided that I wanted to lock my hair…. I figured that since my hair seems to enjoy tangling around each other, it would lock in a matter of days…maybe even hours. So I put my hair in 137 (yes I counted them) little twists, and figured I would give them about a month and I wouldn’t be able to get rid of them without cutting it all off. I waited…one month… two months…. three months…. and in late March (when I was stressing about the pregnancy) I started messing in my wet hair (I had just gotten out of the shower). As I was messing in my hair.. one of the twists came out….and another…and another.. and in a matter of a few hours my entire head of hair was free and wild. NO problem… no locking.. very little tangling… just a lot of dust and lint. *siiiiggghhhs* WHY??? However.. if I DARE to consider trying to wear my hair out… it would be such a tangled & crazy looking mess by the end of the day it would take me hours to comb it out. ARGH! *sighs* So for the past few days I have been wandering around with a huge floofy bush of hair… trying to decide what to do with it. I could try to lock again…. but I don’t know… or I could cut it off…but I love my hair too much to do that…. I HATE the way my hair feels straightened (hard crunchy and dead), and I get tired of putting it into cornrows… and I don’t have the time or the money to go to a salon and get someone else to do it for me. *sighs* Any suggestions?? It is getting way too hot for me to keep wrapping my hair up and wearing hats…. Atlanta sun is NO joke.

Hmmm what else? I have been procrastinating something TERRIBLE on my finals. *shakes head* I think I have a self-destruct switch in me that comes on the second that I start doing something REALLLY major. I don’t know WHAT my mental block is. I DO however, at this point know soo much more about cars and Subaru Impreza’s than I ever thought I would know after two days. And I have chatted to my friends so much that most of them assume I am done with my finals. And my toe & finger nails look absolutely lovely…and my house is nice and neat…Umph… if they only knew (and don’t even START fussing at me Papi).
Well… I am about to go and start working…. I will have to finish writing later….( I missed my deadline..but by only by a few minutes….bad bad Jazzy)

Stay Jazzed.

20 Questions...

Dobie's 20 Questions for May (borrowed from ‘Rella)
1. How did you pick your OD name? Hmmm…. I don’t really remember why I picked this name now. I think it was because when I started this one I was a hot ass, but didn’t like the way Jezebel sounded. Now… it’s all about being jazzed baby…..

2. What part of the world do you live in? Like it there? Hows the rent? I live in Atlanta, and I love it here but I am ready to leave. I pay 385 for a one bedroom in the hood, and I am getting off EASY.

3. Where do you see yourself in 10 years? 50? 100? 10 years? Back in Atlanta having babies…50? dear god…on a beach in Jamaica…. 100? either dead or frozen until 3010.

4. What is your favorite color? blues. all of them.

5. What is the unladen airspeed of a swallow? huh?

6. Girls: Do you spit or swallow? *shudders* neither…the thought of it is kinda ucky. But I used to swallow.

7. Guys: Do you face the diggety? Do the alphabet?

8. If a plane crashed directly on the US-canada border, where would you bury the survivors? HAH!! after ‘Rella got this one wrong I won’t get caught… you don’t BURY the SURVIVORS… you send them home to their frightened families.

9. Got any pets? nope…but I want two cats…. Frick & Frack. or maybe Spic & Span. Dumb & Dumber?? Jazzy & Jammy? *lol*

10. Got any cigarettes? Can I bum one? Nope… used to have some cloves.. but I smoked the last of those a few night ago.

11. Got milk? Yeah….it’s reallllyyy scary too. It’s not enough for me to see what it tastes like ( hey I was breast-fed but I don’t REMEMBER it) but I don’t think it’s the real thing anyhow.

12. Have you ever masturbated to Barry Manilow? Air Supply? The theme to Gilligan's Island? no…no….ewww.

13. Ever kicked a Coke machine? *nods* The ones on campus are GOOD for trying to steal your money…

14. Ever kicked an old person across the street? Down the stairs? How rude…. most certainly not.

15. Have you or anyone you know had the heartbreak of psoriasis? Do you even know what that means? nope…nope.

16. Have you ever watched a gladiator movie, Timmy? ummm. I’m not Timmy.

17. Did you ever have a hatchet go right through your face? ouch & no.

18. Who is your favorite superhero? Do you have a costume like his/hers? Storm from the X-Men. I WANT her hair.

19. Which is your favorite finger? my ring finger on my right hand…. it has an odd little mutation that makes it allll mine.

20. Who loves ya, bay bee? Everybody I touch…

Stay Jazzed.

HeartHealing Began...

No, this actually has nothing to do with him...but everything to do with me. How shall I begin...this is an ending of the old and a start on the new. I have had time (yeah... I know, even with all my complaining, I still have time to think about my life) to think about what I really want out of life...in the long term, and in the short. And I know that one of the things that I want... without a doubt, is someone in my life to love & to love me. I have had love... on an intimate and close level (to my heart that is) a few times before... but the flare & fire has always died. So now I am looking for a love that is rooted in peace & not in passion... I am looking for someone who does not have to start the burning fire that I always associated with love, but instead produces the soft glow that I know better as friendship. I want a love that touches me and holds me and comforts me...I have had enough of the love that scoops me up and carries me away and makes me lose my mind and my wits and all that other stuff. *sighs* I want a peace far far far beyond passion. I want a love that endures beyond those fires...and a lover who wants the same.
I have noticed that sex often fuels/inspires the passion that conceals the lack of peace. Thus...*deep breath* I have decided to remain celibate until I find someone that I will be willing to spend my life with. I am tired of the false connections & emotions that spring from sexual intercourse...and I am tired of the mind games that tend to be played in the pursuit of sexual intercourse. The other thing that I have decided is that while I will always be attracted to women...I will not look for one to be in a relationship with. Not that I will truly be 'looking' for a man...but *sighs* I can barely handle my own interpersonal issues... I can't handle the issues of another woman on top of that. Not that men's issues are any easier... but they tend to be so much different. *shakes head* I am ready for something REAL... something solid...something that is rock steady...and is based on something outside of me. *smiles* It almost sounds like I am describing a religion rather than a relationship, but ...I am...I have started my rituals back up...sorta... just trying to give myself a base that I can settle myself around.
It is amazing how things occur in our lives that affect us in ways we could never imagine a few years/months/ weeks further down the road we are all walking...if I had gotten a job in Atlanta...I would have had a child in a few months...if I had stayed with T. I most likely would have found a job here...had I continued with my original school path... I most likely would have never even MET T.
And now...so many things have happened that makes me glad to be leaving Atlanta for a bit of time. I need some space away from this city...so time to be alone and to form myself closer into the woman who is slowly reappearing as who I want to be. I WANT to leave this city that a few months ago I was fighting/hoping/praying to stay in. *shakes head* Who could have known? no-one...at least no-one human. And yet we humans are still stubborn enough to pretend to plan our lives and expect them to follow the plan we set.
The huge egos we hold in such tiny tiny bodies.

Healing begins from within...healing begins with the decision to heal and to change yourself and your surroundings in ways that contribute to healing...I prepare to leave one place that I grew in...to give my heart & spirit room to grow more.

Stay Jazzed.

Blues Clues

I am so...just so out of it. I think that any other time the fact that I am so...deluged with work would be okay...but these are finals. (Yeah...there is gonna be some repetion...be warned). Senior year finals. Dear merciful one I cannot fuck this up. I am so stressed and tired and wiped and just all out of it that I hurt mentally, and there isn't shit I can do except suffer through it and hope that I get some blinding clarity that will let everything go smoothly. And I am sick & tired of people telling me empty platitudes like 'You will be okay' or 'Don't worry' or 'Be positive' . Really...none of that is going to help me right now. None of that is going to do a damn thing but make me feel worse if I fail, and irritating the hell out of me now. And I have to go to work tommorow. Mercy...I have to focus on the little bits...the pieces of time that matter. The fact that ALL of the little pieces of time matter I have to ignore.
Anyway, I did two exciting & interesting things today...I got my aftercare checkup done...and came out with a clean bill of health. As part of it they gave me some pills, and I had to sign the reams of paperwork that was attached to my medical file. The description of the abortion itself was amazing. I haven't decided if this is morbid, or odd , or what.. but I wish that I could have seen what she looked like. Yeah I know...most likely a bloody broken mess, but she was my baby...and after reading the description of the 'material' that was removed...I wonder what it looks like. It sounded like it was really...distinct...less of a mess and more of a child than I thought. Mercy. So that was interesting...at least to me. The slightly more interesting/exciting thing was I played the lottery. *shrugs* Who knows...I might win a little something. I really don't think that I would finish finals if I did. I would just come back and take the whole semester over in bits & pieces. I mean I would be able to pay for it. Also along the cashmoney train of thought, I got the corporate card from E.L. today. I promptly made my reservations for the trip to Indy, as well as the return trip from DC. I wasted entirely too much time doing so, but at least it was a little peaceful & quiet time. I managed to get some really great deals...and just the way I wanted them too...
I think that is all for now... I have another entry up in me... but that one will have to flower later.

Stay Jazzed.

So Long, Farewell

Today is the Senior Farewell(s) where each department has a little something to wish the seniors who are graduating good-bye. Our department is having one as well, and sadly enough I can't even muster up the enthusiasm that I should have for this. All I want at this point is a B-/C average this semester and joy, joy, joy will flow through & into me. I tried to dress up today in a cute little summery dress, and some sexy sexy heels...and all I can think is what was I tripping on? I need heavy duty clothes to endure extends amounts of time in this cold lab. I think I understand the whole concept of senior week better now...any other time the end of the semester is just that... the end of one with a pause until the next comes up. But here & now, this is the END. And everything matters so much more.
I talked on the phone to one of my 'acquaintence' types last night for almost 5 hours. I had been avoiding him for quite a long time, mainly because our relationship was founded on sex, and I wasn't interested in trying to fend off any approaches. I prefer to simply avoid circumstances where I get approached. The conversation however was fun. He is an intelligent man, relatively mature, and cool. *shrugs* I guess that is enough to get a conversation out of me. The importance of that? nothing much...but me being tired isn't helping the process much.
I wish that I had something else to talk abot other than school, but everything has recedeed into the dim back regions of my mind in the face of this...the last hump.
It's odd...I know I am going to summer school...but the two classes that I am taking are going to be minor compared to the madness I think I am going through now.
*deep breath* okay... my writing break is over for the day...I need to get some work done before I say 'farewell'.

Stay Jazzed.

Pause in the Day

It's around 5:00 p.m. and I haven't seen the sun since 8 this morning. I doubt that I manage to get out to see the sun before it vanishes into the darkness, but I will be okay with that. I talked about letting go of that which I don't want in order to make my life more peaceful. But how do you let go, when you HAVE to hold on in order to have the life you want? Change what I want? No...because I never believe in settling. SO I guess I have to march on and manage to do what needs to be done.
Today has actually been a rather good day (previous paragrapgh ignored). We had a end of class party for one of my clasess that was actually kinda cool. It was nice to be able to relax for a hot second. After that it was time to code, but since some...*clears throat* assistance was gotten from a classmate who had been in the class previously, it is going rather well.
I am facing a bit of a dilemma. I KNOW that my grades for the semester are going to be crappy, if they are passing grades at all. My question is, should I approach my teachers and let them know why my standard of work dipped so much at the end of the middle of the semester. The problem is, if I tell them (actually it's just ONE that I need to talk to), if I tell him what happened, would I be able to benefit from it? As in will he have mercy and give me a passing grade, or will he treat it as a matter that I should have come to him long time ago. *sighs* I don't know. Maybe I will talk to the head of the department first. *shrugs* I will sound the ground at a later point. or maybe now. I don't know.
Any ideas??

Stay Jazzed.

Random Notes

Okay... a few quick words
1) I think the OD is about to form a new club. The 3-a-day clickers. Do you OD? Then Click! *giggles* hmmm I forsee many slogans appearing in diary titles. I will resist the urge to come up with somethign for as long as I can.
2) I hate school. I have 2 days of classes left and it feels like I have two weeks of hell to go through. That is all I have to say on that subject.
3) I'm going home (up north) for a hot second after graduation (if I graduate). I'm sooo excited. I get to see some of my friends before I go far far away.
4) I am so tired I'm dizzy. The main reason I have been forcing myself to break & eat is so that I could take my antibotics, and I just finished taking them. :(
5) I am trying to figure out what kind of car I want to get. I have decided to just break down and take lessons from a driving school...but I STILL need to figure out what kind of car I want... I need to go to a car show.

That's all. God Bless & Good Night.

P.s. I got my first application from an apartment place today... *claps* oh sweet joy.

Stay Jazzed.