I'm A Frutter, He's a Frutter........Wouldn't You Like To Be........

At a certain time every month (right now) I have this incredible craving. I want to have sex! Lot's of sex. Stoopit, sweaty, monkey- love sex! The kind of sex you look back at and think, "Damn, did I really do that?" You know the kind I'm talking about? If you're not sure let me try to refresh your memory. If you've ever been driving, sitting in church, or grocery shopping and had a flash-back of an "encounter", and you literally shook. You know, jerk your back a little bit and tighten up "the muscle." You then had to shake that shit off and look around to see if anyone noticed, and smile to yourself. If you've experienced any or all of the above you know what I'm talking about.

During this craving period I experience what we shall henceforth call Frutting. The term is derived from the words freak and rutt. Freak: one who is unusually skilled or talented in a particular area, ie. sex. Rutting: an annually recurring condition or period of sexual excitement and reproductive activity in mammals. Some of you, my sister and Tipsy included, may think the term frutting sounds too animalistic. But it best describes the way I feel, like an animal.

When I'm in frutt I want to call ex-boyfriends, ex-husbands, and people I would never call when I'm not in frutt. Men I wouldn't normally give the time of day to begin to look real good. The African bootleg CD salesman outside of the grocery store starts to look taller and less ashy. I scroll through my phone - looking at the prospects. Ladies and gentlemen let me tell you - the prospects are not looking very good right now. I'm not dating anyone seriously - and I'm not into casual sex. In case you're wondering my "toys" are of no help when I'm in frutt. I want the real thing!

I can't wait until I can roll over one morning and tell my husband, "Baby, you can't go to work today, I'm in frutt!" Until then, I'll continue to cross my legs a lot, take cool showers, exercise and try to stay busy with other activities to take my mind off the situation.

None of that shit works - but I try.

Ain't It The Truth

Today someone I trust to tell me the truth told me the truth about me. The truth hurts like a mutha! Especially when it's so true that you have no defense - no comeback.

First my face got hot. That's the first thing that happens when I get upset. Then I wanted to cry - but I couldn't cry because of my pride. Next I felt angry. How dare he tell me this shit - doesn't he understand why I'm like this. Doesn't he know what I've been through - that I'm this way because........ Then the embarrassment set in. The shame. Letting someone get close enough to me to see the ugly parts - and then that person acknowledging said parts. Plainly laying them out in front of me. It was like seeing magnified pictures of the parts of you body you like the least. And knowing everyone else could see them too.

This is the time I usually run. I disconnect from the truth teller. I continue on my journey seeking the person who will either not see my truth or see it and not tell it to me. Surely not show it to me.

This time can be different. If can take the truth telling. Take it for what it was, the truth. If can seperate the truth from the teller. If can seperate the truth about me from my total self-worth it can be different this time.

In order to take it for what it is I would have to accept the truth about myself. To know that it's okay. It's not the end of the world. Accept myself with all my flaws and fucked-up-ness. Accept that I am worthy of someone who loves me just the way that I am today. Flaws and all. That I don't have to be ashamed of myself - of my truth - or the truth about me.

It might be different this time. I'm trying to make it different this time.

H Two O

I dipped my toes in the water again.

The water is warm and has dark brown skin. The water is refreshing and filling. The water found my spots and flowed into them like a stream.

While my toes are in the water - it's all good.

When my lower digits are again dry and landlocked I begin to worry. Worries that come from dips in past waters and swims in rough seas.

Then I come back to myself, and remember to enjoy the dip. To concentrate on the warmth surrounding my toes and ankles.

Don't slip all the way in yet - just enjoy this water - this day.

Let Me Tell Y'all Bout Some Hard Shit

There is a saying that goes something like this, "doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result is the definition of insanity."

Trying not to be insane is difficult as all get out! Okay, your brain has been conditioned to take in information and respond to it in a certain way. This conditioning stems from nature or nurturing and experience. I've learned that my conditioning is faulty - and should be upgraded to a less retarded model. A positive model that would support the wondrous person I am - and am becoming. So, I've been working on it. Baby steps.......crawling.......baby steps......laid out on the floor scooting on my belly........baby steps. You get the picture.

I had just started feeling like I had the hang of it. I was up to regular steps and then it happened. BAM!!! I was faced with one of those situations where you are supposed to use the new stuff. Think, only deal with truths....blah....blah....blah. Don't listen to the old voices, just the new affirmations. Ha!!!!

I failed miserably.

I felt my self slipping, but I couldn't stop. It was like going down a water slide head first. I couldn't think straight - speak straight or be straight. So much for dealing with truths and mantras and shit. I just wanted to go home and go to sleep. In fact that is exactly what I did, after crying myself into a swollen eyes and a puffy face monster.

When I woke up the the next morning the situation didn't seem as bad as the day before. I realized that I did do better than I had before - I hadn't done the best that I can and will do - but I did better than I had done before.

I plan to keep trying.

This live your "best life" shit is harder than Chinese arithmetic. But living your "bad and damn near worst life" isn't a bed of roses either. Yes, I'll keep trying.

Graduation and the Celie Curse

MyKiddo graduated last week. The family came up from Louisiana to witness the eldest grandchild cross the stage. Everything went off with out a hitch. My mom blessed us with gumbo, fried seafood and all the trimmings. Yummy! MyKiddo's graduation cook out was the bomb and all is well with the world.

She is off to Cancun on her senior trip - and I have the week to myself. Guess what? I miss her already. What am I going to do when she leaves for college in a few months? Hee-Hee, I'm sure I'll get over it. The upside is I can leave my sex toys out without her seeing them - and passing out. : )

Let's go back to the graduation for a moment. Her father showed up. He was late to the graduation. No surprise, he's always late. I don't have convo for him. I don't feel like I have to talk to him about anything. I'm good with hello....and hello. That's enough, and in an effort to circumvent an arrest for assault and battery I try to keep my distance. With that said - brother was all up in my grill at the graduation. Invading that personal space within inches at one point. What the hell? He did this thing where he was looking into my eyes - like he wanted to say something. Yes, directly into my eyes. Some type of hypnotize yo ass look.

He must not know bout me!

I know what that negro wanted to say. He wanted to say, "Thank you for raising our daughter so well. You did a good job - and I know I haven't been much help." However, he can not say that yet because he ain't that grown. But it's cool. I ain't mad. Well not anymore. I put a "Celie curse" on him many years ago. Those of you who are familiar with my favorite movie, The Color Purple, know what I'm talking about. "Until you do right by me everything you even think about is gonna fail." I never said it to him in person - but it seems to have worked long distance. Ha!!!!!

Anywhoo......it was great being with my family. My nephews are getting so big. My niece Velvet is turning into a beautiful young lady. She's getting so tall - I can't believe it. My sister is still beautiful and crazy. That girl looks younger every time I see her. And she's thin! Yes, I am hating on her. Mommy is the same, we had to pin her down to cook - she was too busy sneaking off to the malls here every time she got a chance. She loves to shop.

All in all a good time was had by all.

It's That Time Of Year Again

Every year around this time I begin the hunt. I search high and low for it. I ask friends if they've seen it. I check the pop magazines to see if someone has come out with a new one. I browse the net looking for one. All for naught!

I can't find it because it does not exist.

My search is for the perfect Fathers Day card for my daddy. One that doesn't sound like an out right lie. You know the ones I'm talking about......"you're the best dad"........"you were always there for me".......blah blah blah.

Last year I listed 20 Things About My Daddy. But, he and I are going through this "thing" right now......really I'm going through a "thing" with him and he doesn't know anything about it. So, I'm not even feeling like writing any kind of tribute to him. Here's the thing - I started calling him again recently because he had another stroke and I thought he was going to die. That's why I call him - because I'm afraid he will die and I won't have spoken with him in a while. But when we talk it's not about the things we should be talking about. Like real stuff. We talk about cursory stuff, how fast the kids are growing up, the weather - small talk.

Our situation needs "big talk," not small talk. However, neither one of us knows how to do it. Or maybe we're just not brave enough. After he got really ill and nearly died about three years ago he talked real talk a lot. The medication he was on made him sensitive and weepy. Yep, he would talk real talk, and cry. But not to me - he talked to my sister. He talked to her about mistakes he's made in his life - and encouraged her not to make the same mistakes.

I needed that too. My sister tried to tell him that - she knows he and I have unfinished business. He says what he always says, "She's my first child, she knows I love her." I think it was easier for him to talk to my sister. He has less to be sorry for with her.

Maybe just the thought of opening up those old wounds with me is just too scary for him. I know the thought of it scares me. That's why I stopped calling him in the first place. I was getting too close to that talk - real talk - the big talk, and I got scared. When some things are said aloud they change everything. They change the air in the room - they change the time of year and day. They bring you right back to the spot you stood on when the thing you need to talk about occurred. If you were a child at the time of the occurrence - you return to being a child when the things are said aloud. I'm really afraid of standing there again as a child - trying to talk out loud, trying to speak up for myself. I have yet to find a Father's Day card that addresses this stuff.

So, here I am as another Father's Day approaches, wishing and hoping for miracles. Praying that my daddy doesn't die - not before he addresses the little girl in me.