A bird in hand can get pretty messy Or If I was your girlfriend

Weight: 145 lbs. (I really need to start doing something if this happiness continues)
Drinks:  Jack Honey, mmm good.
Food indulgences:  hmm, none, I swear . . .
Meds: none

So I blogged a while ago about my changing my last name back to Gray, but I have been thinking alot about the power of the title one is given by another.  I have heard many people say that a relationship is not dictated by a title.  "I don't need a piece of paper to say we're married", or "I don't need a piece of paper to say i'm divorced" (psshhh)  I have also heard many reasons not to post relationship status on facebook.  All of which I get, really I do.  However, I do believe that there is power in the title you give someone.

For example, the word wife, husband, boyfriend, boo, jump-off, side-chick, girl I see sometimes, BFF, etc all come with a certain amount of security and expectations that come along with it.  Let me explain my situation and perhaps someone can shed some light on the sitchiatshun:

I'm dating a guy.  He's cool. We hang. I like him alot.  I like him to the point that I have not seen other people and turned down dates so I can see him.  He is NOT my boyfriend.  I have been advised that I should just enjoy this for what it is and not to put any expectations on him.  Just let it be . . .and I"m trying really I am . . .

Last week I was going to see him.  Made plans and everything.  I get a text from my BFF (James Dean).  I of course say no, because I would rather see Darnell (aka beau, i think that names dumb so i've made up a new alias) and also because we have made tentative plans.  However, the plans fall through, I end up hanging alone, and James is now put off because this is the 2nd time i've not been open to him coming over.  So I'm pissed.  I have the right to be, because, come on dude we made plans and you are breaking them.  And as you might expect from my dating/marital history, breaking a word is something that I HATE!  but also, I am uncomfortable because we are just dating, he is not my boyfriend, and during this period I know that it should be "all good" and I should do what I can not to make a big stink about it.  I mean if we can't get along now . . .

And certain family members think its absolutely wrong for me to continue to see James (even though he is super cute and the coolest dude evah) because I know its not going anywhere and I know I am relegated to "girl I see sometimes" to him.  If I was Darnell's girlfriend, I wouldn't think twice about turning down James' offers.  But doing so, makes me feel like I'm being dumb.  Especially if Mr. fall asleep and break a date is still dating other people.  Moreover, if I was Darnell's girlfriend, I would feel more comfortable giving him the full wrath of my displeasure.  There is a security in the word girlfriend.  We can argue and still be fine.  But in my effort to make things all good, I settle for just being brief on the email and acceptance of "im sorry, I'll make it up to you".  I guess i'm just afraid of letting it loose.  But is that kinda like a "bait and switch"?  

I mean remember what I went through with the Nigerian? One argument and he's all "I don't think we make sense together". 

But I need to have at least some expectation for someone who is choosing to be in my life regardless of the title.  But goodness I like him alot and I'm afraid that he will fall short of the expectations that maybe I shouldn't put on him in the first place.  I guess I am not as full of faith and optimism as I thought.

And I have no idea how to continue dating other people, but moving forward with someone else.  How to do that without feeling like a jezebel.  In other words,  a bird, in hand is worth two in the bush, but when you ain't got nobody in hand,  how do you maintain a bushful of birds?

In short, I have no idea what I'm doing.  And maybe thats okay...and I would like to be a girlfriend, but i'm pretty sure that will lessen my dating options.  Just joking, mostly.  The real question is do I want to be a girlfriend or do I want to be his girlfriend...I guess time will tell.  But patience isn't my best quality

Life of a Single Mother on Mother's Day

Weight: 147 lbs (shut it)
Drinks of choice: Jack Daniels Honey and Firefly Sweet tea vodka
Medication: none

I decided to pick up my blog on Mother's Day.  I am journaling about my day so far as I think some things have happened which illustrate nicely what its like to be a single, divorced mother on Mother's Day. It is sometimes hard and frustrating, but most times hilarious and wonderful.  Ok here goes

12:14 am:  Come home from a night with Beau.  There was an event we went to earlier.  A kind of nerd prom with food but no liquor.  But I brought my flask so it was okay.  Kids with Ms. Nike (the overnight sitter who has changed my social life;  don't think I ever blogged about her).

12:30 am Sitting and talking with beau, sippin a little something.  I like him.  Of all the random dudes that ogle my facebook photos, e-flirt, and proposition me, he is the one that follows up, that shows up, and man's up.  Honest to say what he wants and what he doesn't and who I am sure if he didn't want something I was offering, would tell me so.  Our conversation is easy. He knows The Nigerian.  that  made me nervous.  What I like about beau is his optimism, I didn't want The Nigerian's ardent pessimism and emotional laziness to rub off on him.  Thinking of that nearly gave me an anxiety attack.  But I texted brandi and she talked me down.  If he is that easily swayed I don't want beau anyway.  And its best that I just enjoy him now as he is.  worrying will just waste the time I'm with him, and I really don't want to do that.  Because I enjoy him, yes indeed I do.

1:00 am Um enjoying, enjoying or um, none of ur gosh darn business

2:00 am: sleeping and waking intermittently. Beau is very different from James Dean.  James Dean can and does sleep curled up in my arms or me in his. always touching, which is nice and I've learned to like.  Beau just wants to sleep. I can dig it . . .

7:00 am see 1:00 am

7:35 am off to pick up the kiddos.  Ms. Nike is a regular church goer and she goes to early service.  I don't want to burn any bridges!  Gotta get those kids. I promise to pay her on payday. She says "of course, that is fine"  Yes, must keep Ms. Nike happy.  Who else will babysit on credit?

8:00 am Driving back to the house.  I listen to the boys' recount their night.  Evidently there were video games and building houses involved.  I like that they like to go to the sitter.  It eases my guilt.

8:15 set the kids up with some snacks and the tv.  I'm still a little tired and want to get a couple hours of sleep.  Let's see if this works

8:45 am Justice says he forgot his video game in the car.  I give him the keys to unlock the van.  Damion Jr. comes to chastise me for letting Justice have the keys.  It's like he feels he is raising Justice with me.  Maybe he is.  Justice arrives back in the house with the video game and my keys.  Justice is becoming a big boy.  I point that out to Damion Jr.  He just shrugs . . .

9:08 am Deejay asks me to cut up the mangos that are in the refrigerator.  I told him to please let me wait until later.  I remind him that its mothers day and I should be able to sleep in.  He tells me he will be back.

9: 30 am Justice comes up and says he forgot the game card that goes in the video game in the van.  He wants to go get it.  I tell him its the last time i'm giving him my keys.  He goes and comes back without incident.

10:00 am:  Justice comes up and lays down in the bed with me. I can tell he's been eating candy.  His breath smells like chocolate.  He wants to take pictures with the phone.  It is confirmed he's been eating chocolate when I look at the picture we took... check the wide eyes

10:15 am:  Damion joins us (it's hard for me to keep putting the jr. but y'all don't know the sr. anyway, so just know when I say Damion I mean my son.  When I say asshole, I mean my ex-husband). Damion gets on my computer.  I ask if there's nothing on tv.  Damion says, well you're more fun.  Yeah right. . .Damion goes on some video game site, Justice continues to play his video game. They just want to be in my space and I'm cool with that.  I remember laying in my mothers bed, not doing anything, not wanting anything besides being in her space.  I drift off to a very shallow sleep . . .

10:43 am receive a text from Fred. He says he feels some kinda way about my facebook status.  I was reminiscing about my time with beau and was missing the feel of him during my nap.  Fred says that he is away and instead of sending a personal msg to him, I sent a status to all my random "snuggle partners"  Now he knows I'm a one woman gal, but I think that it is more comfortable for him to believe i'm just hanging around with a bunch of nobody's because he is away.  If he was ready or available or even said to me that he only wanted to be with me, this wouldn't be an issue.  But that is not the case.  I was thinking of beau and I wrote about him.  You snooze you lose, buddy. 

12:00 noon:  I wake up.  Can't legitimize being in the bed past noon.  Even on Mothers Day.  I get up.  I mow the backyard.  Fix food for the dog and let him outside.  I join the dog outside.  he is playing and I can tell he's bewildered at the fact the grass is cut.  He immediately goes behind the shed to do his business...he's so dainty that way.

12:30  poor some Jack Honey and commence social networking . . .

12: 52  Holly, my sister, facebook chats me.  She doesn't have her kids today.  Hannah is with the grandparents, Carly is with her father.  Yeah she rocks for having an ex-husband who actual visits and takes care of his child.  It's a shame my sons don't have that.  She says she's bored.  She doesn't have kids with her, but I do.  It's always the way.  Everytime I have  don't have kids, I also don't have plans.  It's the Jesus' plan to keep me all chaste and bored . . .

1:15 Holly says she's fitna get dressed and come over.  She evidently has something to tell me that is big and heavy.  "Well, " I said, "Come on over. You know I'm here . . ." 

2:35 pm:  Someone knocks at the door.  Its some kid wanting Damion to come outside.  When Damion goes out, they give each other "dap" or "a pound". Ugh I just... I can't . . .  Time flies like a mofo . . .

I Love You and Other Lies Boys Tell

"Took me out to wine, dine, sixty-nine me, but didn't hear a damn word I said. I see right through you." Alanis Morrisette

I'm going to be 38 in two weeks.  I've dated, been married, divorced, and now dating again.  When I first got divorced, it was hard to picture myself totally by myself.  Yet I found myself alone with two children and a dog. (and also several mice, but thats a previous blog altogether) I enjoy dating, I really do. Sometimes I read my past blogs and I get on my own nerves.  But things tend to happen that are pretty  bloggable.  And yes I am the constant in that equation (as a certain Jerky McJerkerson pointed out). But well sometimes I think, I choose wrong just for the excitement and a story to tell afterward.  . .

Check this out

I met a boy.  He is an artist (shut up, I know) We talked online.  One day he asked to come over.  I said that it was a bad idea.  He said it would be fine. He would come over, we would watch a movie and we would cuddle and then he would go home before the boys woke up.  I said sure, because you don't find many who understands that they have to be gone before the kiddos wake up. I mean the therapy costs alone...

So he came over and did what he said. It was nice. Just company. So every weekend almost after that, he would come over we'd "watch a movie" and then he would go home.  Sometimes I would go over to his place.  He made me waffles in the morning.  His apartment was like a vacation.  Movies, cuddling, breakfast, silence.  So after a couple of months of this, I got curious. That is a bad sign. that means I'm getting attached. I want to know about him, meet his mom and what not.  *sigh* the beginning of the end.  At any rate,  I noticed that he always came over super late.  It started to bother me.  It bothered me to the point that I said that I was tired of being secret girl he saw late at night.  It was cool for a while, but a person with half a heart wants more than just that.  He said, "ok".  I was pissed. I guess I expected him to put up a fight, to say he'd do better. no such luck.  Then I asked him to send me the beautiful pictures he took of me.  And he told me he deleted them.  I was furious.  Those were the best photos I'd ever taken. So raw and beautiful..gone. And so I do what I do what I always do.  I threw a text tantrum.  Oh the curses I used...

But the next day he said, "are you too mad to play scrabble?" And we played online scrabble just like the old days.  I was impressed. No one ever survived a text tantrum except the Nigerian, and everyone knows he's the love of my life (shut up). 

But I think, that he was a little late on the complete damage I did with my text tantrum, that may or may not have gotten back to facebook, allegedly.  Now its the silent treatment which only rivals plucking my leg hair one by one to the level of torture that is....gosh.  I guess thats over now...

Meanwhile back at the boy bunny ranch:

So I was talking to my other friend (Fred) and complaining about how boys want to have secret late night sex relationships and that was all.  He said,  "I know what you mean.  I am coming to your birthday party. I can't wait to see you."  I thought that was the sweetest thing ever.  Maybe I had mis-judged him.  Then he said, "I know what will make you feel better."  And then he sent me a picture of his penis.  Sigh . . .

So there is another boy, Aloyoisus St. Dexter.  We went to college together.  I met him on the streets one day, and we went to lunch a day later.  Super sweet.  We talked and ate and drank. And then he went back to Jamaica.  He is cool and a west indian (I SAID SHUT UP). But he is in Jamaica.  We talk and laugh on the phone and over skype, but who is to know what he would be like if we were in each other's space all the time.  Murphys Law is a bitch I tellya.

Anyways, my birthday is coming up.  I have an awesome dress, and about to order some fuck me pumps.  However, none of that will be going down.  But it is cool that they want it to.  I just wish someone would like to talk and play board games too.  Maybe a little drunk bop it (funnest game ever). The Nigerian is coming....here's hoping that nothing happens....

Unexpected Waffles (beginning of a short story)

ts okay you know.

Its okay for there to be quiet.  I relax in the silence that your space provides.  Looking out of the window and seeing the rain and fog in the early morning, settling into the makeshift bed in the middle of the space where you create, I feel hidden.  Not ready to get up and make my way in the world that has been created for me. I turn and look at you with your funny face and strong arms.  You seem so strange sometimes, and I am curious about who you are.  But I am glad for you just to be here, just to be who you are, whoever that may be.  I know it is what it is and nothing more, but I appreciate this little thing.  This little space.  This silence.  The rain against the window and the unexpected waffles.

BBBBRRRRRRRIIIING! The alarm sounded and she turned to grab her phone.  5:30am.  Stretching she turned on the light and sat up in bed.  She regarded the pills on the bedside table with irritation, reached for the glass to get water, then thought better of it and turned to get 15 more minutes of sleep . . .

Stuff that happened while I wasn't on the internet

weight: 138.7 lbs
alcohol: tried some pineapple vodka
and am mixing it with EVERYTHING
food indulgences:  ramen noodle kick
medication:  0 lexapros but reconsidering . . .(had 3 anxiety attacks and been sleeping too much)

It's been a minute.  I decided to put back up the titles for how I start off these personal narrative blogs, just for those who are new followers and also because I haven't done it in a while.  I chose those things to keep track of because those are the things that usually indicate how well or not so well my life is going.

Soooo, I'm at a new school this year.  (surprise) Ahem, this school is great.  The people are inviting and most of all it seems that they could benefit from things that I am good at.  I think I am needed and that is  always good.  I loved my old job, but the people were kind of mean.  And I don't like feeling anxious or depressed going to work.  Upside, I had a great summer off with the kids.  Downside, I didn't work at all and i am behind the 8 ball with my bills.  It will all work out eventually i'm sure.

Let's see.  things in the romance department are going swimmingly.  I have learned a few things about myself.  I often can get what I want if I ask for it.  Opening myself up to somebody else is scary but necessary.  Also I have learned that absence makes the heart forget who you are.  no bullshit.  that grow fonder nonsense is for the birds or folks who enjoy playin damn games. (ahem)

Oh yeah.  I was in a play this summer.  It was at the Atlas Theater and part of the DC Black Theater Festival.  It was great, you can see some pictures from it here. I'm going to do the general auditions for LOWT and BTA.  I'm hoping to do a play a year during the spring/summer season.  I enjoy getting random extra checks for doing something I love.

So I was walking to lunch today and I saw two birds.  They were nicely sharing a huge piece of bread they had found.  Then one bird flew across the street with the whole piece of bread in its beak, leaving the other bird behind empty handed.  The bird hopped a couple of times toward the curb, but then turned around and pecked at some other pieces of trash on the sidewalk.
The lesson:  Sometimes you have to let people go they're own way, but you are never left truly empty handed.

I knew an old lady who swallowed a fly

I did something really awful yesterday and I need to get it off my chest.

I willingly allowed someone to accidentally swallow a fly.  Willingly and willfully.

A lady was sitting at a table at work.  She pulled out a donut.  She was talking to a couple of folks in the room.  As she was talking, she had her phone in one hand and the donut in the other.  A fly landed on the donut.  In my head I wondered if she would throw the donut away because the fly landed on it.  Then I realized that she didn't see the fly.  So then I thought, I wonder if she will see it before she eats it.  I wonder if she will shoo it away and eat it anyway.

After she finished talking, she raised the donut to her mouth.  By this time I was wondering which side of the donut she would eat.  The fly side or the clear side.  As it got closer to her mouth, I knew she was about to eat that fly.  I think it might have been stuck on the glaze.  Now I was completely fascinated. 

She put the donut to her mouth and took a big bite.  When her hand came down with the donut, the fly and the part of the donut it was resting on was gone.  She ate it. 

I said nothing.  She ate a fly and I let her.  I wonder if it was crunchy?  I wonder why I let that happen.  I can't even ask her what it tasted like.  What a waste . . .

Black Writer's Reunion and Conference

Day 1:

I knew I should have blogged the night of the first conference day.  I always forget important stuff when I put it off.  But I shall do my best. 

 I went to "Learning to Layer" by Dr. Venise Berry who talked about avoiding some pitfalls new writer's have (e.g. lack of precision and clarity, unnecessary words, long words when short ones will do, etc)  I actively work on avoiding these things in my writing.  But I did learn something through the workshop,

Lesson 1:  Revise, Revise, Revise!  I think a lot of writing is "talent" but a good portion of it is hard work.  I try to rely on talent, whip out a quick 5 pages and expect it to be awesome.  Which in my opinion happens about 50% of the time.  I blame the instant gratification of blog posting and facebook where I post my stuff.  I don't usually go back to make it better.  I think this explains why even though I write some pretty good stuff, alot of the things I submit gets turned down.  I even submit stuff knowing I need to fix some things, but I submit without revising anyway.  It's a habit I intend to break.

At the conference there are basically two kinds of writers.  There are folks who write "urban fiction" and everybody else.  I'm not going to get into the difference between them because that would take a whole blog and I'm trying to be less verbose (lesson 1.5) but check out day 2 reflections . . .

During the workshop we had an activity where we had to build around a sentence.  The sentence was "This time was different".  Here was my layered paragraph:

Slumped over, legs askew nursing a bruise on her cheek.  She realized that she was surrounded by multi-colored daisies.  It struck her beautiful.  But this time was different.  This time the flowers were projectiles used to release rage.  Her husband had arrived home and caught her in a position that warranted the opposite of a surprise bouquet.  But now she was left alone, surrounded by flower petals still falling from her face and hair.  What a strange yet beautiful weapon.

I love writing exercises.  I'm learning to respect the craft more.  I am trying to delay gratification and resting on my random acts of awesome.  I'm learning that as confident as I am, I am still afraid to read my work aloud.  I am discovering I am a writing snob. I am learning that talking to folks about writing is just about the most fun in the world.

Day 2: The Rise and Fall and Rise Again of the "Urban Fiction" Writer  Stay Tuned!