Monday, January 4, 2010

Day 4

Me: I've been neglecting you. Don't you feel neglected? Unappreciated?

16750: Well, I'm a little older so a little more high maintenence. Plus, you just don't know what to do, how to do it and then there's that other thing.

Me: ((sigh)) What other thing?

16750: cash-ola...you're a little over extended credit wise, right?

Me: Amen to that but don't help with the excuses. I'm Queen of the Excuse people.

16750: just trying to help you out...what do you want me to say...you're lazy? you're irresponsible? that's not entirely accurate. Not entirely...lol

Me: Maybe I just got in over my head. I don't want to seem ungrateful. Besides, I prayed to have you and now....well....

16750: There are some things that you CAN do yourself. You're a terrible procrastinator, you know.

Me: Ain't that the truth. LOL Seriously, I need to tackle this list one day.

16750: Well, it is winter and we both know how you like to hibernate. We spend a lot of time together in this type of weather. Why don't you just make another list and do what you can?

Me: I suck.

16750: Whining is not an option, so cut it out! Your father has been very generous with you. He just wants you to do what you can and trust him to work the rest out. You know how much he loves you. I hear you talking about it, singing about it...all the time.

Me: Okay, you're right. Besides, I got to stop neglecting you. How did you get so wise?

16750: Hey, I was born...I mean built in '48 , with age comes wisdom.

Me: and drafty windows, and a leaky roof, and peeling paint, and old plumbing and.....

16750: LOL point taken.

(28 days)

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Day 3

A warm, sun filled Saturday was a perfect for a day for exploring her new found surroundings. With these last few weeks of  unpacking, moving furniture and working, it was time to get out and familarize herself with her new hometown. Who knew that 3 months would go by so quickly?

She had to hand it to her real estate agent, she truly earned her commission finding her a small but completely renovated house within walking distance of the city's artsy area. There were shops, restaurants, galleries, bookstores, bakeries and a coffee house or two. Music from the areas local bars spilled out into onto the sidewalk.

Having walked for well over an hour, she was ready to find a spot to sit, eat and rest her feet. A coffee house appropriately named Java Sip with it's corner location and al fresco dining seemed like a good place to sit and do some serious people watching. She ordered a green tea and a toasted apple raisin bagel with a side of Javas famous homemade cream cheese. The staff was warm and friendly welcoming her to the area and throwing in a complimentary order of a popular citrus fruit salad.

It took a few minutes of scanning the outside seating area to find an empty cafe table but she finaly spied one and swiftly made her way to it before it became occupied. As suspected, the bagel, fruit salad and tea was delicious. She added herself the list of people who loved the homemade cream cheese and made a mental note not to love it too much that she would forget that she was trying to lose some weight.

She sat back and looked around the dining area while she sipped her tea. There was a young couple seated with their toddler, two tables of older women all wearing red hats and laughing heartily. A tall, leggy redhead typed steadily on her laptop while pausing to take big gulps of her coffee.

Satisfied that she had seen everything on one side of the cafe, she shifted slightly in her chair to get a different view. The table next to her was empty but the corner table was occupied by a brother who seemed deeply engrossed in his newspaper. He sat back, one of his legs was causually moving left and right as he read and sipped. From what she could see, he looked like he might be kind of cute. He was wearing cuffed, off white linen pants. His multi colored cuban shirt covered what looked like very broad shoulders. With the addition of his sandals, he looked comfortable and well put together. 'I bet he smells really good,' she thought. She no sooner finished her thought, when he looked up from his paper and directly into her eyes. She quickly averted her attention to the top of her table, spilling a little tea on her t shirt. She glanced back at him which made him chuckle. His light brown eyes still set on her. Oh my God, what was he thinking?

She stared off into the opposite corner and nervously sipped her tea as she willed her heart rate back down to normal. 'Damn', she thought, 'how embarrasing'. She was just about to turn to offer him an apology, when she noticed that he was making his way towards her table. She was wrong about his being cute, he was fine and the closer he got, the more she wanted to melt into her chair.

"Hello." he said.
She strained out a greeting that she thinks sounded like a hello but she wasn't really sure since she was holding her breath.
"I'm David and you are?" he asked.
"I'm, um" She cleared her throat, ," I'm Valerie." She finally managed to get out. She was wondering what he would think if she stood up, put her hand in his partially open shirt and started rubbing his chest. She sat there looking up at him, hoping that he wasn't a mind reader.

He smiled at her then reached into his pants pocket.  She tried like hell to keep her eyes from going there. His hand produced what looked like a business card. The background of the card was black and it was peppered with gold musical notes. On it was an address and a telephone number to a place called Revel, all beautifully written in the same gold letters.

"Welcome to Charleston, Valerie. " He winked at her, placed his straw hat on his head then turned and strolled away.

She watched him walk down the block noting that the view from the back was just as impressive.

(29 more days)

Saturday, January 2, 2010

Day 2

It's cold in here. The furnace is humming along but it's still cold in here. I have plastic on windows and cutains on some windows yet....brrrr I'm still cold.

Sitting here drinking tea and eating a trail mix bar, I'm having one of those buyer's remorse days. As a homeowner, you get those days. You love your home but sometimes the endless projects get to be overwhelming. The constant growing 'honey-do' list on the fridge that I keep adding to but never really starting (or finishing). Then there's the sudden things; plumbing, water tank, electrical issues, furnace issues and God knows what else. The parade of folks coming through your home and practially bankrupting you to fix these issues. (and those are the one who show up when called) I've certainly had a few folks come through here and take advantage of me. Part of this is my fault though since I should been more well read on home maintanence. (hmmmm a book purchase is in order)

It's enough to make me miss my humble northside apartment.

Despite it all, I am so proud to be a homeowner. 10 years ago, I couldn't even imagine that this would be my story. It's all mine, every 1300 square foot of it.

This year, I'm going to learn to appreciate this blessing more which means figuring out what is needed to take care it.

30 days left

Friday, January 1, 2010

Day 1

Today is day one of my 32 day writing challenge. What's on my mind? Hmmm. I need to tell someone that I am no longer interested in having a relationship with him and now I am wondering if I am just being too damn picky. Maybe I should be grateful that I have someone to occassionally take me out. Maybe I should be glad that someone is interested in me. Does it really matter that he is not into anything that I am into? Does it matter that he thinks that I don't really know my ass from a hole in the ground. Okay, maybe that last part is an exaggeration. LOL I really do think though that he thinks that I am not really that intelligent or that I don't have any sense or that because he works with teenagers, he cannot separate things. It must be why he talks to me like I'm a 40 something year old idiot. It's not that I don't respect his counsel but um...not every woman needs to be guided around like a child. I do have my own job, my own car, my own house, and more importantly my own identity. I thought that my father had risen from the grave when I told him that I have a tattoo. Why in the hell would he assume that it is some guy's name. No, he did not ask me what it was but proceeded to explain to me that tatoos are permanent (WHAT?) and that having someone's name on me is forever. Well dang ...I had no idea. The funny thing is that he is a really nice guy and does not mean any harm by 'sharing his wisdom' (as he puts it)...but guess what man??? that ish is really irritating to any seemingly intelligent, independent woman.

Now I'm back at square one and I just don't feel like getting back out there. It's starting to wear on me and my patience is getting thin with grown folks. So, I will pour myself into doing my thing...writing...reading....dyi projects in the house...and generally just living.

31 days to go

Friday, December 11, 2009

A Hopeful Life Lived

Yesterday, I received some very unsettling news from a friend. He had just discovered that one of his very best friends had passed on. He had just seen her, talked to her and I can imagine that they probably shared a good laugh or two. His crying went right through me and I wished that I could find the right words to comfort him as he grieved for his good friend and one of the biggest NY Giants fans that he’d ever known. (besides himself)

I spent the better part of the day today thinking about life. Every time I hear about someone passing fairly young, I think about all of the things that they did not get a chance to do. I wonder about the places that they’ve never seen, foods they’ve never tasted and all of the stuff that they’ve never tried. Why does it always seem so short? Then I ran across this quote from Ralph Waldo Ermerson that says,

‘It is not length of life, but depth of life’.

I believe that every date is appointed, birth and death. If you knew your end date, what would you be doing right now? Most people have so many things on their ‘to do’ list that they haven’t done. Why not? What’s stopping you? There are places to see, foods to eat, books to write, etc, etc, etc. Why are we always talking about GOING to do things and never actually DOING these things?

We’re so busy making plans to call people we never call. Making promises that we have no intention of keeping. We waste so much time stubbornly holding on to life long grudges. We expend so much energy on pointing fingers and placing blame. We relive injustice done to us and watch it over and over in your mind like some bad B movie. The whole while our life clock is ticking and before you know it, you’re menopausal, geriatric and just plain bitter.

Don’t let this be your epitaph! Live you life realizing what a gift it is and what a gift YOU are…to somebody. Stop talking about what you are GOING to do or WANT to do and (to quote Nike) JUST DO IT.

Today, I raise my coffee mug to Hope. She came, she lived and most importantly she loved her team, her family and her friends. Put in a good word for us Hope, I have a feeling that we’re going to need it.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

The Eye of the Beholder

“Always remember that true beauty comes from within — from within bottles, jars, compacts, and tubes.” Peter's Almanac

The practice of getting (and preserving) beauty is big business not just in America but globally. There’s a potion, lotion, cream or gel for every wrinkle, pimple, spot, line or crease. A woman can be smoothed, exfoliated, primed, matted and glossed…most of the time all in the same jar. And this is just for the face!

There is so much pressure on women to be born beautiful, grow up pretty and maintain that same illusion of the absolute gorgeous throughout life. Even though we get older (while kicking and screaming against the inevitability of aging) we MUST do it gracefully.

So here I am standing in the bathroom mirror feeling anxious because there’s a pimple on my face. Adult acne is conspiring against me. It’s already bad enough with this damn grey hair. Please don’t ask me where. Some places Miss Clairol just ain’t meant to go. (Trust me, I’ve thought about trying it) On top of all of that, there is the ever expanding waist line, stomach and hips that just seem immune to any amount of exercise. Weight that’s up and down, round and round like some carnival ride that you just KNOW that you are going to be sick from riding.

My Grandmother always tells me that it’s alright getting older, it’s just damn inconvenient. Of course, media bombards us with images of beauty that are far fetching, false and down right impossible to maintain. It can even teach our little girls that being rail thin to the point of starvation will make you happy or better yet, the next big star. We need to stop allowing these marketers with their airbrushed images tell our little girls what pretty is. I, for one would like to see a whole lot more transparency in the media so at least one less little girl can stop looking in the mirror with tears in her eyes wishing that she was pretty like ____________.

I thought that after age 40, I would be over this by now but as Whitney would say “hell-to the nawl”. A pimple on my chin and at midnight I’m still obsessing about it. Staring at it brings me to my un-kept eyebrows, moles, freckles and now I’m starting to notice some dark circles under my eyes. Damn….it’s just a matter of time before my eyes are traveling south and I’m looking at my stomach, my hips, some stretch marks and finally stopping at my water retaining ankles.

Yes, there are things that we can do like exercise, eating a healthy diet and maintaining a good sleep schedule. We can develop a good skin cleansing regimen and stick to it. We can learn to love our hair and take care of it. We can get rid of foods, people and situations that cause us a great deal of stress. We can learn to laugh and cut ourselves some slack. But more importantly, we can teach our daughters and ourselves about what it means to be truly beautiful.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Onyx

This weekend a friend came by that I had not seen in awhile. Nice guy with the prettiest white teeth, dazzing smile, witty, and wise way. As he caught us up on the current events in his life, I looked at his smooth onyx skin and thought to myself...wow his skin is so beautiful. I know that years ago (and not that long ago)..many people would have shunned him for his dark skin. It took me back to MLK Elementary and my 5th grade pal, Lisa. She was a dark beauty with dark, smoldering eyes. She too had a million dollar smile but I rarely seen it since she was the subject of many tauntings by the other kids at school. It was already hard enough to be black in the early 70's in a predominately white community, a mostly white school. (don't be fooled by the name of the school) She had to be very dark on top of it. One particular day, these rowdy bunch of boys sat near our table in the cafe. I knew we should have moved but I gave them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they would be engrossed in talking about the last episode of the six million dollar man and starsky and hutches red car to notice us there. I was wrong. It started with them calling her name and then when she looked at them, huddle with their private joke and laugh hysterically. I told her to ignore them. We continued to talk. Then the worse happened. They started chanting...who is the coolest boy in the 5th grade? Derek! Who is the baddest cat in the 5th grade? Michael! Who is the prettiest girl in the 5th Grade? (I was not surpised that they said my name..not because of my look but only because Derek was calling himself my 'boyfriend'). Lisa looked at me and smiled. I was not impressed. Then there it was like a knife being thrown. Who is the blackest, ugliest, looking guerilla in the 5th grade? Lisa! I gasped. I could not breathe. They just kept saying her name over and over. I sat there and stared at Lisa...she never said a word...just kept picking over her lunch. Big crocodile tears flowing down that beautiful skin. Her lashes so long that some of the tears just hung there a minute before falling onto her sandwich; now soggy from her tears. I ached for her. I wanted to tell her that I was the one who was ugly with my caramel colored skin. She was a pure beauty. Like africa..exotic and wonderful. My tears began to flow too. I wanted to hurt those boys including and especially my so called beau who was the same dark complexsion. How dare they? When they were done, they left laughing and patting each other on the back like they had accomplished some amazing thing. What they did was destructive, ugly and hurtful. At 41, it still haunts me. I can only hope that Lisa has healed from those wounds. I have a feeling that she grew up so pretty. Tall and graceful...and successful. Lisa, wherever you are, I hope that God has blessed you till your cup has run over. He already made you a precious jewel with that Onyx skin.