So I'm talking with Industrious on the phone Sunday. (The weather was beautiful!) We hashed some things out.....gossiped... and gave each other therapy. Usually when we have these sessions I drink wine, and she drinks coffee. See, that's why she is Industrious, it's all that caffeine. But she's getting it done. I, on the other hand - well after a couple of glasses of wine, am not getting it done. I'm usually foggy and sleepy.
Anyway, Sunday was different. Industrious sipped her coffee as usual, but I was as dry as a bone. No Riesling - just clear blue skies, and one epiphany.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Chocolate Joy
I need to think about something that gives me joy. Something that makes me feel happy from the bottom up. The thought of my nephew Trey J has the ability to distract me - and make me smile.
As I think about him and the silly things his five year old mind conjures up, I laugh out loud.
He has stepped his cursing game up. He used to say, "What the?!?" He has recently upgraded to "What the heck?!?" and "For crying out loud!". He has countless snappy comebacks and retorts that he's picked up from cartoons. But the funny thing is he doesn't really know what they mean or when he's supposed to use them. So when he didn't want to share a toy with his baby brother, he said, "I wish I would stop mooching off of people!" LOL What the?!?
I wonder why Trey J has such a spell over me? It could be because I see him as the son I'll never have. He's chocolate and such a sweetie, just the type of son I would choose for myself, if I could choose one. Or, it could be his resemblance to his mother when she was a little girl. Maybe I see some of her in him. I am 8 years older than my sister, and I doted on her.
He loves me to pieces too. He likes to hug me with his long thin lanky arms and he tells me he loves me constantly. When I visit he insists on sleeping with me every night. The last time I was at home I turned him upside down and played him like a guitar along with Prince. (Super Bowl, Purple Rain, unforgettable) He loved that. When I send him gifts or write about him he tells my sister, "I like Nanny." I love that.
While I'm away I have to beg Trey J to talk to me on the phone. His interest is hard to keep 900 miles away. I ask him why he doesn't want to talk to me and he feigns a headache. I tell him he's a FAKER! He just laughs and hands the phone off.
I don't know what it is about him - but he's my special. My chocolate joy.
As I think about him and the silly things his five year old mind conjures up, I laugh out loud.
He has stepped his cursing game up. He used to say, "What the?!?" He has recently upgraded to "What the heck?!?" and "For crying out loud!". He has countless snappy comebacks and retorts that he's picked up from cartoons. But the funny thing is he doesn't really know what they mean or when he's supposed to use them. So when he didn't want to share a toy with his baby brother, he said, "I wish I would stop mooching off of people!" LOL What the?!?
I wonder why Trey J has such a spell over me? It could be because I see him as the son I'll never have. He's chocolate and such a sweetie, just the type of son I would choose for myself, if I could choose one. Or, it could be his resemblance to his mother when she was a little girl. Maybe I see some of her in him. I am 8 years older than my sister, and I doted on her.
He loves me to pieces too. He likes to hug me with his long thin lanky arms and he tells me he loves me constantly. When I visit he insists on sleeping with me every night. The last time I was at home I turned him upside down and played him like a guitar along with Prince. (Super Bowl, Purple Rain, unforgettable) He loved that. When I send him gifts or write about him he tells my sister, "I like Nanny." I love that.
While I'm away I have to beg Trey J to talk to me on the phone. His interest is hard to keep 900 miles away. I ask him why he doesn't want to talk to me and he feigns a headache. I tell him he's a FAKER! He just laughs and hands the phone off.
I don't know what it is about him - but he's my special. My chocolate joy.
Friday, April 13, 2007
I'm A Recovering Racist
This race thing is tough to tackle. Are you a racist? Are you prejudice? Are you ashamed of your race?
Do we ever answer these questions honestly and thoughtfully?
My feelings on the issue of race are varied and confused. To answer the question, am I a racist. The definition of racist is as follows; a person with a prejudiced belief that one race is superior to others. I don't think that the race of people derived from African decent (Black) are superior to other races. In theory - I don't. However, when I consider the treatment of Non-Whites by Europeans, and people of European decent (White), I conclude that there is something different and bad about a people who could, did, and continue to do such things. Which in essence makes me a racist.
That is how I view White people as a whole. Which makes me also prejudice. The definition of prejudice is, bias, a partiality that prevents objective consideration of an issue or situation. I am partial and I am biased. But, how could I not be partial and biased.
When I look at the trees and not the forest, I see something different. Something not so cut and dry. I have a co-worker with whom I'm very close. She is white. We laugh and talk all day long. We share our problems and deep secrets. We are supportive of each other and even pray together. I feel genuine concern for her and her family, and I think the feeling is reciprocated. Here's the thing. She does not think people should date interracially. Specifically, Black and white people. When I questioned her about the grounds for her thinking, she says, she was raised to believe people should marry within their own race. Her father was a blatant racist and spouted negative rhetoric about Blacks. This woman is in her 40's. She has lived long enough to learn that everything she was raised to believe is not necessarily true. When we discussed it further she went on to say she knows she is prejudiced, and she wishes she could be different.
It's very hard for me to marry the concept of my friendship with this woman and her not thinking I'm good enough to date a white man. She has even said that I'm different. I asked her how am I different? She said, "you don't talk black, and you don't act the way I expect a Black person to act." If you've been reading this blog for any amount of time you know that I am proud of who I am - and I don't pull punches because of the particular company I'm in. I laughed at her perception of me as "different." (I guess different does not mean equal.) I explained to her that "people" are different. White people are not all the same and Black people are not all the same. Then I felt very sad. That was a sad conversation to have with someone you consider a friend.
I have hope for a different kind of world. But, I think it's "a silly- just not ready to give up" hope. I'd like to see White people differently and for them to see Black people differently, I just don't expect it.
Again, race is a tough thing to tackle.
Do we ever answer these questions honestly and thoughtfully?
My feelings on the issue of race are varied and confused. To answer the question, am I a racist. The definition of racist is as follows; a person with a prejudiced belief that one race is superior to others. I don't think that the race of people derived from African decent (Black) are superior to other races. In theory - I don't. However, when I consider the treatment of Non-Whites by Europeans, and people of European decent (White), I conclude that there is something different and bad about a people who could, did, and continue to do such things. Which in essence makes me a racist.
That is how I view White people as a whole. Which makes me also prejudice. The definition of prejudice is, bias, a partiality that prevents objective consideration of an issue or situation. I am partial and I am biased. But, how could I not be partial and biased.
When I look at the trees and not the forest, I see something different. Something not so cut and dry. I have a co-worker with whom I'm very close. She is white. We laugh and talk all day long. We share our problems and deep secrets. We are supportive of each other and even pray together. I feel genuine concern for her and her family, and I think the feeling is reciprocated. Here's the thing. She does not think people should date interracially. Specifically, Black and white people. When I questioned her about the grounds for her thinking, she says, she was raised to believe people should marry within their own race. Her father was a blatant racist and spouted negative rhetoric about Blacks. This woman is in her 40's. She has lived long enough to learn that everything she was raised to believe is not necessarily true. When we discussed it further she went on to say she knows she is prejudiced, and she wishes she could be different.
It's very hard for me to marry the concept of my friendship with this woman and her not thinking I'm good enough to date a white man. She has even said that I'm different. I asked her how am I different? She said, "you don't talk black, and you don't act the way I expect a Black person to act." If you've been reading this blog for any amount of time you know that I am proud of who I am - and I don't pull punches because of the particular company I'm in. I laughed at her perception of me as "different." (I guess different does not mean equal.) I explained to her that "people" are different. White people are not all the same and Black people are not all the same. Then I felt very sad. That was a sad conversation to have with someone you consider a friend.
I have hope for a different kind of world. But, I think it's "a silly- just not ready to give up" hope. I'd like to see White people differently and for them to see Black people differently, I just don't expect it.
Again, race is a tough thing to tackle.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Podnah, Podnah, Lemee Update Ya!
Sometimes I get so caught up in reading other peoples blogs - I don' t feel like writing for my own. I'm going to try to do a better job of blogging. At least three times a week, maybe : )
Here's what's going on with me.
I have met the one. My future husband. The man of my dreams. BUT he does not have any children, and wants to have a family. I do have a child (who is almost 18) and I do not want to have any more children - ever. Lord, this man is perfect for me, but I don't give a damn about my biological clock. I would smash that bitch with a hammer if I could pull it out. I know it's unfair to expect him not to want a child since he doesn't have one. I know that in my right mind. However, in my other mind I'm thinking of dressing up in baby costumes until he gets over it.
: P
Then there's Mykiddo. She's one month away from graduation. I am one month away from a nervous breakdown. I want her to go/I want her to stay. Jesus help me! I want to be able to have nice things in my house that don't get mysteriously broken. But I also want to be able to snuggle up with her and watch t.v. I need to purchase some back up alcohol to ride this one out on. : )
I'm not even going to speak about school. Let's just say my ass is kicked. Period
Now you're updated!
Here's what's going on with me.
I have met the one. My future husband. The man of my dreams. BUT he does not have any children, and wants to have a family. I do have a child (who is almost 18) and I do not want to have any more children - ever. Lord, this man is perfect for me, but I don't give a damn about my biological clock. I would smash that bitch with a hammer if I could pull it out. I know it's unfair to expect him not to want a child since he doesn't have one. I know that in my right mind. However, in my other mind I'm thinking of dressing up in baby costumes until he gets over it.
: P
Then there's Mykiddo. She's one month away from graduation. I am one month away from a nervous breakdown. I want her to go/I want her to stay. Jesus help me! I want to be able to have nice things in my house that don't get mysteriously broken. But I also want to be able to snuggle up with her and watch t.v. I need to purchase some back up alcohol to ride this one out on. : )
I'm not even going to speak about school. Let's just say my ass is kicked. Period
Now you're updated!
Monday, April 02, 2007
Proclamation Of Ignorance
How old where you when you realized you didn't know as much as you thought you did?
When you realized all of the self-righteous, self-important pronouncements you had made about people you know, places you've been and things you've seen - was bullshit.
When you realized you don't really know what you want, and more than half the time you do not know what the fuck you are talking about.
Count it 40 years, one month and 2 days for me.
Today is the day I make my proclamation.
I don't know shit.
There, I said it.
Sometimes I get what I thought I wanted, it's not quite right and I don't want it.
Even when I think I know what to do, I'm just winging it, because I don't really know what to do, except to do.
Just when I think I have my wispy fly-away emotions under control - I implode, and am left to take to the bed until I can do.
Around the time I think I'm okay with me, I become distracted and obsessed by my too fat top half and not fat enough bottom half.
I don't know where home is anymore - and I don't know where I want to make a new home.
I thought I could work full time and go to school full time. Half the time I'm so tired, I wish I would get hit by a bus so I could have an excuse to be off from work and school. That way I could sleep a lot and no one could judge me for be the fuck up failure who just wants to sleep.
I thought I raised My kiddo to be independent and self-sufficient and level-headed. As the time quickly approaches for her to leave for college - I fear she may forget to go to class and be enticed to join the circus.
I don't know shit!
I'm amazed that I've gotten through 40 years without knowing anything.
It's a wonder I even make it through the day.
In a way, this proclamation has liberated me. I'm not sure how - because I don't know shit. But I think it has. Well, maybe not - I don't know. Shit!
When you realized all of the self-righteous, self-important pronouncements you had made about people you know, places you've been and things you've seen - was bullshit.
When you realized you don't really know what you want, and more than half the time you do not know what the fuck you are talking about.
Count it 40 years, one month and 2 days for me.
Today is the day I make my proclamation.
I don't know shit.
There, I said it.
Sometimes I get what I thought I wanted, it's not quite right and I don't want it.
Even when I think I know what to do, I'm just winging it, because I don't really know what to do, except to do.
Just when I think I have my wispy fly-away emotions under control - I implode, and am left to take to the bed until I can do.
Around the time I think I'm okay with me, I become distracted and obsessed by my too fat top half and not fat enough bottom half.
I don't know where home is anymore - and I don't know where I want to make a new home.
I thought I could work full time and go to school full time. Half the time I'm so tired, I wish I would get hit by a bus so I could have an excuse to be off from work and school. That way I could sleep a lot and no one could judge me for be the fuck up failure who just wants to sleep.
I thought I raised My kiddo to be independent and self-sufficient and level-headed. As the time quickly approaches for her to leave for college - I fear she may forget to go to class and be enticed to join the circus.
I don't know shit!
I'm amazed that I've gotten through 40 years without knowing anything.
It's a wonder I even make it through the day.
In a way, this proclamation has liberated me. I'm not sure how - because I don't know shit. But I think it has. Well, maybe not - I don't know. Shit!
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