Dag-blasted Tag...

So I've been "tagged" by the one and only J.A.C. So here we go:

The Rules:
1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

1. I have an extremely vivid imagination. I can see a person on the street, train, bus, in the car next to me, wherever and create and entire life for them, why they are in that space and time, what they are thinking, what their home life is like etc...which leads me too...

2. I am an obsessive people watcher/voyeur. I can sit in a location and watch people all day, they don't have to be doing anything in particular, just walking, talking...my favorite is to see ppl arguing or in some sort of conflict, especially when I am somewhere that they aren't privy to my gaze...which leads me too...

3. I like to argue. Ppl always think its a result of my line of work, but not really, I just like to try to prove things, or hear ppl try to prove them to me, I always come from the position "explain to me why I'm wrong" or "make me understand why what you did was acceptable" which I guess is a set up, b/c I already know you were wrong, i just want to hear what possible illogical thoughts you used to rationalize the behavior...which leads me too...

4. I am fascinated and petrified of drug use. I want to watch shows like "Intervention", movies like "Lady sings the blues" but I can't. I am so interested in why ppl use drugs, how they got started, what their drugs of choice are and why, how they pay for their habit, if they were ever able to function as a normal person in society while on drugs and if so how...all of it is so interesting to me. But I cannot watch anything that features heroin use. I discovered this when as I kid I tried to watch "Lady sings the blues" and was so disturbed by her drug use that I stopped watching mid-way through (I NEVER get midway into a movie and stop watching, if I've watched to midway I have to finish, no matter how bad it is!) and had nightmares about it...I still remember vividly the scene that I had to walk out on, and I saw it like 10 years ago. I can watch a movie about heroin use I just can't watch the actual shooting up, I watched "Ray" with my hands over my eyes for all the actual drug use scenes. One would think that its the needles, but its not, I've seen shows where ppl shoot up meth, and I'm totally ok, chris and the crack rock in New Jack City, also totally ok, surgery on the learning channel, one of my favorite things to watch...but if a movie features someone shooting up and they say that the substance is heroin, i can't watch....when i was in junior high I heard on some talk show about a girl who was kidnapped from a her nice middle class life, held captive in some drug house, tied to a bed, and given regular hits of heroin...after a while she was released from the bed and made to work as a prostitute in order to get her heroin fix...I think she was missing for years, and says she stayed b/c she was so addicted she couldn't leave....I was CONVINCED that I was going to get picked up and strung out at anytime (active imagination, remember)...which leads me to...

5. I am a hypochondriac. I always think that any minor pain or injury will result in my sudden and untimely death. I am constantly self diagnosing myself (or even worse using webMD). For instance:
random pain in head=aneurysm, or stroke
sprained foot=all the bones in my foot are broken, I may never walk again
pain in chest=pulmonary embolism
clumsiness (I take a random tumble, or I trip without cause)=Vertigo
common cold with significant cough=the consumption (aka tuberculosis)
flu=ebola, malaria, or west nile
Basically if i now the symptoms of an illness and I have even one, then clearly I've got the disease, and obviously I prefer the more rare/obscure illnesses, or at least ones with fun names, "the consumption" that is awesome...which leads me to....

6. I love random and obscure knowledge/facts/dates/words etc...my favorite word is onomatopoeia...I love the meaning, i love to say it, i love that in a group of 4 other ppl, its likely that only one other person will know what it means...which leads me to...

7. I sometimes have tendency to lord my intelligence over ppl. Its a bad habit and a terrible quality of mine. I have to make a conscious effort not to assume that I am smarter (and somehow better, perhaps?) then ppl I meet who don't immediately strike me as the most intellectually savvy...which leads me too...

8. Even though I think its silly, I do like the automatic assumption that I am a bright girl when I tell ppl my occupation...again not a great characteristic, but its true...however it does make me wonder what ppl would think if I stopped being a lawyer...I wonder if my title were not attorney, whether ppl would still get that impressed/surprised look in their eyes....

So all my blog friends have already been tagged...except for:

DIMPLEZNMORE

So get to it lady!

Humble-Bumble

So i'm sure that by now all of you (my two, maybe three readers) have heard about the sniper that was downtown today, right. Protesting Lindsay or Paris, or whomever, being just generally cra-cra and shooting all willy nilly. Well your girl was down by the courthouse when it all went down...and I heard that first shot and hit the deck, nevermind that I lost my shoe in the process, nearly skinned my knee, i knew that if I was going to save my life and the life of the 96 year old widow whose life I also spared on my way down in a very Jack Bauer fashion, I had to sacrifice my limbs for the greater good....what...huh....whats that now, you didn't hear anything about a sniper downtown...nothing huh...and whatcha say now, you think that I was walking to fast b/c i was running late to court somehow forgot how to walk and/or wear shoes for a second, walked out of said shoe and barely managed to keep my noggin from hitting the pavement in a spectacle of Beyonce proportions on a major downtown street, not far from the cross walk where all the other attorneys were crossing the street to also get to court...Oh. Well I guess that could have been the case as well.

The funny part is I can totally imagine how it looked, i was walking past some parked cars, so you know how ppl pretend to walk down imaginary stairs, they just crouch down "step" by imaginary "step" behind an object. That's what it had to look like, because after walking out of my shoe my next step was a crouching/not trying to touch the dirty ground with my foot move, just before i was completely spralled out on the pavement, bag also on ground, somehow next to me and no longer on my shoulder, stuff falling out, mascara rolling away...then a very kindly man who literally said to me "Ay Dios Mio are you OK?", first told me to stay down, like I was 86 and may have broken my hip or neck, (he even looked around like he was going to need some assistance getting me to the emergency room or something) and then helped me up when it was clear to him that I wanted to be off the ground. He picked up my sad rolling away mascara and other belongings, handed me my bag and blessed me with the blood of the Christ...Aside from a scratched leg, some sort of injury to my foot, and sore pride i'm fine. But man I bet that was funny!

I want you...

**Update: Please see the comments section for a more accurate rendition of the lyrics to "I Want You".

I I I I I I I
WANT YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU
AND I
I I I I I I
WANT YOU YOU YOU YOU YOU
so what we gone do
i want you
gone do
what we gonna do

2nd part
when words got a way way way way way way way
i want you (baby)
so what we gonna do (baby)
i want you (baby)

chorus
love is on the way all I got to say is It wont let go
we can pray to early May
fast for 30 days
still It wont let go
got a good book and got all in it
tried a little yoga for a minute
but it wont let go (oooh)
tried to turn the sauna up hotter
drank a whole jar of holy water
but it wont let go

begining

and the words got a way way way way way way way i want you
so what we gonna do
i want you

Chorus
and I
I baby I want you
you baby
so what we gonna do

begining
and your words got a way
so what we gonna do
i know you're a little nervous
so what we gonna do
i know you really want this
so what we gonna do
i cant really explain it
so what we gonna do
i feel your love

Bridge:repeat 2x's

i dont want no trouble
i just wanna love ya (yeah)
i dont want your money yeah
i just want to love ya (yeah)
i wanna get to know ya
and i
i want you
and i
i want you
and i
i want you....
Begining (1st part again)

See also: Sade "Love is Stronger then Pride", "Is it a Crime" and D'angleo's cover of the George Clinton "I'll Stay".

trains of thought

...someone paid me a great compliment the other day, she said that I was the only person she knows who can go from bourgeois to ghetto in the blink of an eye. she said that lots of ppl that she knows are able to switch it up but not as quickly or effortlessly as I do. I love that about me! is that vain to say? its one of my favorite qualites about myself, versatility. I love that i can go to a meeting of professional collegues and contribute intelligently to the discussion, and leave there and head to a venue where they play Pharcyde's "Passin me by" or Tupac's "I get around" and I know all the words, or Lil boozie's "wipe me down" and I know the chorus (ignorant songs I try to keep it to chorus only). Or sing along to Chamillionaire's "Ridin' Dirty" but am also well informed and have strong opinions regarding police profiling in my community. The fact that the other night while watching the video's that I DVR'd from BET, I had to get up and dance hard because the beat dropping in on UGK's "International Players Anthem" gets me every time, but I can also put together a cogent argument for why BET is the bain of my people's existence (and I use the word bain) is great stuff.
I tend to think that in my generation there are many like me. there are obviously those that stand only on one side or the other, but i think that there are many that straddle the line and exist in both realms without feeling conflicted or disingenuous.

...we are going through a bit of a rough patch. all of us. at the same time. its strange. i love how we are all relying on one another though. how we all have turned to our faith, and the bible for strength and fortification. its funny though, when things are swell we don't talk this much about the bible. isn't that always the way, when things get bad is when we turn in earnest to Him, of course we think about him and thank him in passing when things are good as well, but we re-commit, re-focus all our attention on Him, when things take a turn for the worse. i'm happy that we are all here for each other. i pray for us, in hopes that our various situations and stressors will pass and that in the meantime we don't give in to our disquieting thoughts.

...last night at the kingdom hall a brother that has recently been in the hospital for his heart, passed our towards the end of the meeting. his wife screamed, the meeting stopped, ppl hurried to his side, the paramedics were called, the meeting ended abruptly, ppl were silent. no one wanted to leave until the paramedics verified that he was ok. he is an older brother, probably close to the neighborhood of 70 years old, he got married about 3 years ago, for the first time i think. they are an odd couple, but they clearly make each other very happy, she has softened his often cantankerous nature. For her sake, almost more then his, I hope he is ok. To have finally found a measure of happiness and then to have it taken away abruptly (or slowly) while not uncommon to the human condition, is cruel nonetheless.

...2 Timothy 3:1-7
"1But know this, that in the last days perilous times will come: 2For men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, 3unloving, unforgiving, slanderers, without self-control, brutal, despisers of good, 4traitors, headstrong, haughty, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God, 5having a form of godliness but denying its power. And from such people turn away! 6For of this sort are those who creep into households and make captives of gullible women loaded down with sins, led away by various lusts, 7always learning and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth."
I have read 2 Tim 3:1-5 a million times. like literally a million times...but vs. 6, 7 I think i read it for the first time over the weekend. I can't ever recall reading it before, and it clicked for me...I've often wondered how the significant others in the lives of my friends and I could be so cruel, so deceptive, how their actions could belie such contempt and wholesale disregard for the feelings of those they claim to care about...the scripture explains it. Its the last days...

...Credit cards are the bain of my existence. I loathe them.

...My parents brought home videos from when I was a kid on vacation...I was 7 years old, adorable, articulate, and had a disproportionately large behind for my small frame. its the craziest thing, but it does look hilarious, i totally get why the kids made of me.

Unexpected pleasures...

I always mock J about her favorite show, SYTTXVBCTREDG, which is the abbreviated acronym for "So you think that you can dance while in America on a reality show for people with real viable talent"...I think that is its short title.

Aside from its insanely long title, I DVR'd it last night, and much to my surprise I LOVED IT! Most of the dances were phenomenal, I'm convinced that most of the dance couples are sleeping together (at least with the couples wherein the guy seems not yet all the way gay), I liked the introduction to songs I had never heard of, and the story lines to the dances were cute as well. The only thing I didn't like, were the non dancers: the judges...especially the woman with the enormous teeth, who screams for some reason...the host...what is her purpose, her skill, how did she get this job?

My other unexpected pleasure are movies involving Stephan Chow...well actually i've only seen two of his movies, but if these are any indication....I love this guy! The two i've seen are Kung Fu Hustle and Shaolin Soccer. I explained to my sister that essentially they are comedies in the vein of Airplane, Dodgeball...low brow silly comedies with a moral that are in Chinese (I think) and involve extensive amounts of Kung-Fu. Typically movies like dodgeball or Airplane I consider to be beneath me, something I'll watch on an airplane, at the shop, or over the home of someone i'm not comfortable enough with to tell them to turn. But these Stephan Chow movies, I want the DVDs! The addition of the subtitles and kung fu, make them genius!

I left my heart in...

San Francisco (hereinafter "SF").

I love SF.
So when my job asked if I could fly up to SF for a 10 minute appearance I said sure thing. Spend the morning/afternoon in a city that I love, meeting strangers in the airport, maybe even sneak in a little shopping in Union Square.
4am I'm up and at them, headed to the off airport parking, I make my flight since I have no bags to check, my flight is on time, and at 7am I am in the lovely city of SF. Preparing to get on the BART I speak to a nice young gentleman waiting for the train, we strike up a conversation, chat all the way to my stop. He gets off at my stop with me, walks me to the courthouse, I still have an hour or so before my hearing so he suggests we grab some breakfast. I say sure! We walk Several, and I do mean Several blocks into his neighborhood to his favorite breakfast place. His neighborhood is known as the Tenderloin district. It is everything that the name connotates. It is a neighborhood that I know not to be walking around in alone. Even walking with him I thought, as we passed many of the cities transients, I sure hope he can fight. Thankfully that wasn't necessary. And as we walked I determined that either he was walking me out of that neighborhood or I was cabbing it back to the courthouse.
We arrive at the breakfast place, sit down and the TV is on Fox News...they have found the body of some young woman who had been missing, they believed her death was caused by her boyfriend.
Hmmm, I just followed some strange man that I have never met before several blocks into a neighborhood that I know to be dangerous, to have breakfast at a place that he is familiar with that I am not. Ok. Alright. I agree, not one of my brightest moments. And while yeah i didn't feel at all in danger, Ted Bundy was notoriously charming and non-threatening and he killed several "smart" women.
But then I realized how sad it is that in this day and age two people who have a good conversation can't have breakfast, or meet up, or take their conversation from a happenstance meeting to further deliberations over some eggs, and pancakes? I mean isn't that the basis for most old love stories? Isn't that how Sidney Poitier met all his leading ladies?
My how times have changed.
As an aside, breakfast was great, we had wonderful conversation, we will likely keep in touch.

So after breakfast I head to the hearing, and guess what...its not until the next day. So yeah I went all the way up there, for a 10 minute hearing that wasn't going to take place until the next day. So after meeting and confering with my job, turns out I was going to be spending the night in SF. I got to get up with some good friends, had a good dinner, bought a new outfit, stayed in a nice hotel, and attended the 10 minute hearing the next day.

On the airplane ride home I realized that I hate people on airplanes. In the terminal ppl are fine, in fact generally I am very tolerant of ppl. However on a plane, ppl make me sick. I think its just the proximity and the fact that I have nowhere to go to escape them. The couple next to me were talking and laughing incessantly, the guy next to me kept touching me, and he had to get up to go to the bathroom. Its a 53 minute flight. 53 minutes!!! What adult can't hold it for 53 minutes?? Apparently lots of them. The guy with the window seat in front of me got up twice...twice in 53 minutes.
So yeah I hate ppl on planes, love SF, and like my new friend.

Ellipses

Last week was tough...one of the worst weeks i've had in a minute. I'm glad its over. I'll admit i've been organizing, coordinating, hosting and MC'ing my own personal pity party...i feel like i felt when a relative died, cry a little here and there, an overall feeling of sadness, and a desire to remain solemn as it feels like being happy or jovial is still inappropriate. I am normally the queen of hidden emotion, and sucking it up...but i haven't had the energy to be my normally energetic self. Its strange...I watched a heck of a lot of Oprah last night, trying to clear out my tivo cache, and it was actually quite helpful. there is something very selfish about depression...you are only thinking about yourself and your situation, i remember reading an article once that said that one way to get out of such a funk is to dwell on others, participate in things that force you to take an interest is something or someone other then yourself...watching Oprah, peeking into the lives of these other ppl, seeing how truly fortunate I am by comparison, definitely took my mind off my issues. I am thankful for my blessings, and God's clear hand in my life, I just kick myself when i begin to reap what I have sewn....O' if I would only listen to His voice (isa. 48:17, 18)...I need to get that tattooed on my wrist, or chest, like that guy in Memento "Remember Isaiah 48..."...there was some other scripture that I read recently that I felt was even more necessary in my life right now, of course i've forgotten it, shouldn't be too hard to figure out where i read it...at work the other day I overheard someone in front of my door asking someone else (a blk person was asking a Jewish person about a scripture in the greek scriptures!) where that scripture that says that God will not put upon you more then what you can bear, he didn't know, so I yelled out 1 Cor 10:13...I was only about 70% sure that was the correct verse, I knew that was the right chapter and book, and turned out I was right about the verse as well. I am often surprised by my ability to quote and recall scriptures...unfortunately I tend to be like that man who looks into the mirror of God's word to see the man that he really is, only to walk away and forget what he saw...ironically, I can't remember where that one is...I cannot be less excited about my parents impending visit...its terrible...but it feels like i just saw them, and i just can't take that level of scrutiny right now, i'm already being hard on me the last thing I need/want is their dual assault on my life, interpersonal relationships, weight, skin, hair, home decorating, lack of organization, spending habits, clothes, and car maintenance...I really just want to be alone...like really alone...no sister, no hall, no work, just a weekend or so alone...I miss VA...i used to just disappear, drive along the river, to a waterfall, no cell service, no ppl, just an 1.5 hour drive, sit on the riverbed, and then drive back...I've been through worse, or at least equivalent, and really...sorry i just got distracted by this very cute, moderately big backed white boy with a buzz cut from some M state who always flirts with me when he drops off documents to our office...so what was I talking about?

Que Sera, Sera

Overall I've enjoyed the time I've spent with you. Thank you for everything, including the bad, from it I've learned and grown.

I wish you the best, take care of yourself.

rant....

am i so crazy to think that if you say that you are going to accompany me somewhere, that you actually come...is it nuts that i tend to believe the words that are coming out of your mouth...maybe thats the issue, perhaps previous ones tended to believe that you like all else were mostly spewing bull-ish and much wasn't expected of you so you failed them....i have a tendancy to give ppl the benefit of the doubt until they give me reason not to...the reasons are becoming apparent...what it seems like you are failing to realize is that it hasn't been long enough for it not to add up....there is not that much space in between to let me forget...and so i have a very clear recollection of the fact that you tend to piss me off every weekend...I feel like you teach ppl how to treat you...but i can't figure out how to make it anymore clear to you how unacceptable this behavior is, not to mention i don't have children for several reasons and this is one of them, I don't want to patiently teach someone a lesson about how to conduct themselves, you're an adult and i expect you to know better, i don't want to have to teach you this sort of lesson that you should already know...I'm not with you to teach you...mother you...remind you...or absorb your disappointing behavior without complaint...i'm tired of complaining.

The Homicide Report

The LA Times runs a blog called the Homicide Report which chronicles all LA County homicide victims and can be seen here: http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/homicidereport/.

I ran across it a couple weeks ago, and have periodically checked in on it.

It is strange.

I find it applaudable because it gives us more then our local news offers us, it puts a face to the "police responded to shots fired in South Central, again" stories that we hear on the local news. It gives some insight into the lives of these murdered individuals, without deifying them. It makes them human. Makes them seem like you and I, or my cousin, or my little brother.

On the other hand.

It is sickening. It is a blog that names all those killed in Los Angeles in a predominantly matter of fact, stand-offish journalistic manner. It feels perverse that I should read, see pictures of, and pass judgment on those murdered in LA last week. The realities that the "police responded to shots fired in South Central, again" stories allow me to remain ignorant of are laid bare, and I read them, and I am sickened.

Maybe I have a morbid fascination, maybe I just can't believe the sheer volume of lives lost, maybe I am trying to wrap my mind around the seemingly endless random shootings, maybe I need to believe that most who die in shootings did something to bring it upon themselves....but most didn't. For most the police and family are at a loss for why their relative was killed. I am confounded by this.

Its equally disturbing to read the ethnicities and genders of these victims. Overwhelmingly black or mexican men or boys.

I can't articulate in an organized manner all the things this homicide report calls to my mind...how much I love this city, but how incredibly different its regions are...Inglewood, South Central, the entire region bordered by the 710, 405, 10 and 105 despite being mere miles from hollywood, bev hills, santa monica are for all intents and purposes light years away from each other...how for those living in these regions the likelihood of getting shot is so high that it becomes a virtual right of passage....the reason there are no black men in LA is because they are being gunned down with regularity....I thought wearing the "wrong" color was so 1992, it ain't....contrary to what the media tells me, many of the young men killed in this way are not gang affiliated, they are wrong place, wrong time, victims of hot-heads and road ragers, they could basically be any of us....how irritated it makes me that the stories, faces, and families of hardworking people murdered senselessly don't make the news but there is virtually round the clock coverage of all things celebrity...the news never made me feel this way about my city....I feel like this blog/report should be required reading for all middle school and high school kids....maybe required reading for everyone.

This Job...

I just returned from a three hour lunch wherein I ate, had 3 stiff cocktails, and hit up a bar....Law school was the best decision I ever made...

Memorial Day...the aftermath...

im so blown by all of this....this is precisely the part of relationships that i hate...when the behavior of the other person makes me miserable, and there isnothing that i can do to stop it, prevent it, or control it. If you want out just say so, but all this little stuff that is slowly sabotaging us, i can't take it. I did the chasing after someone who didn't want to be caught routine, it taught me a lesson, if he's not that into you, he's not that into you, and there is nothing you can do to rekindle what you may have had at first. I did the being with someone who i only trusted about 35% of the time, damn near drove me crazy, I can't take that either. i'm at a point where i want nothing but sheer unabashed honesty. if this is too much, you made a hasty decision, you have doubts or second thoughts...fine. i can appreciate and live with that. but i wont be with someone who i am constantly guessing about what they are thinking, or i'm always worried that they are going to pull the switch at any moment and surprise the heck out of me. i deserve better. i also deserve to enjoy my long weekend. men asked me this weekend if i was single and though i always replied no, it dawned on me that i felt pretty single, i haven't felt single in a couple of months but this weekend i totally did. and i imagine you did as well. i didn't feel loved or cared for by someone at all this weekend, i felt by myself. which is fine, i've spent lots of time by myself and it really aint that bad, granted being with you is better, i prefer that, but not if i'm just going to be feeling like this. so now i'm wondering....so then we chat....and thats why i didn't want to chat b/c it would only make it worse...and i just want to call you at work and scream at you but clearly i'm NOT going to do that, even though every fiber of my being just wants to pick up that phone, but i won't because i am professional and i am an adult, and...i just want to cry, but there is no crying at work, i have always had that rule, no tears at the office! so i'm just going to sit here and blink for a second or two and then i am going to get to work...i'm petrified that this is over, but i can't think about that right now b/c any second now blinking is about to stop working...work...yeah...work....

I draw the line...

I draw the line at deaf mutes.

So I am at the very least a decent looking woman with some notable attributes that tend to draw the attention of men.

I get that, and mostly I am totally ok with that.

But a line must be drawn somewhere. And I, Jennifer Yvonne Williams, heretofor, henceforth, towit draw said line at deaf mutes.


I am walking through the train station, I walk by a young blk man, in a ridiculous hood rich get up, who "Ay, Ay"'s me as I walk by. I nod, so as to not offend, who knows what lies beneath those emerald green dickie shorts (aka-capri's). When I stop walking to wait on my train, here comes green shorts. He stands next to me and proceeds to mumble something, without actually looking at him (eye contact tends to prolong these sorts of encounters) I say "excuse me"-more mumbling. I now look at him sharply, b/c I am irritated that this person is trying to talk to me without using words that an english speaking person can understand. Turns out he is expecting me to read his lips and the rudimentary (or perhaps advanced) American Sign Language he is "signing" (I feel like what he was doing would be an insult to ASL "speakers" "signors" "performers" not sure what the correct phrase is-then again how the heck would I know).

I'm looking at him, his lips are in fact moving, and he is using the pen in his hand to pretend scribble in his free hand indicating to me that he would like to write down my phone number, or maybe he needed directions, or me to call the police, get a splinter out of his hand...now that I think about it he could have been requesting anything. I smiled and said that I have a boyfriend.

He then proceeds to ask me a question...no seriously...the deaf, mute man/boy in green shorts asked me a question in that "speech" that deaf mute ppl make. So I say, "I'm sorry?", knowing full well that no matter how many times he repeats this statement/question/request/plea I will not understand him, yet somehow I'm thinking maybe if I pay close attention I can read his lips...me a hearing person, is now desperately trying to read the lips of the man/boy that I Didn't and Don't want to talk to, in order to make this very painful conversation stop...he repeats himself-blank stare from me.

Finally, I just say "yeah, I'm good thanks". Was that the answer to his question, who knows...and likely I'll never know. But at least he stopped "asking" me the question.

More gesticulating with pen to hand mimicing writing, I make a sad face and repeat that I have a boyfriend. The sad face apparently did the trick as green shorts shook his head, seemingly acknowledging my statements and walked away.

Here's a question, what or how were we going to talk if I had given him my number? He is deaf, and mute. I do not have all day to talk on that ttyl thing (wait is that what its called?).

Main point: I have drawn a line, and deaf mutes are on the opposing side of said line. I will not entertain their advances unless they have a notebook and working pen, and that is just all there is to it!

changes

he's moving near here. and i am petrified. like, want to change my number, relocate, take on my step-fathers last name, scared. my life is so good right now, i feel balanced, or at least closer to a state of equilibrium. but i feel like his move is going to ruin all of the work i've put in to get my mind right. as a whole i was much safer when he was far away. and now he'll be near here, and it just feels ripe for disaster.
the worst part, thinking about him being here, made me kinda happy today. Already, my efforts are eroding.

Just some stuff

So after all the pre-hype, preparation, planning, conference calling and obsessing, All Star Weekend happened.

And it totally lived up to the hype.

We had an absolute fabulous time. Our days were spent doing all the things that I LOVE to do...drinking, meeting strangers, engaging in conversations with said strangers, people watching, asking inappropriately personal questions of strange men, reducing men to their parts ("girl look at that back", "did you see his arms", "What was his name?" "I don't know but did you see the pecs and shoulders on that nice young chap??".

Speaking of men's body parts-I am most happy to be a woman when I walk up to a man's body that I find attractive and proceed to touch it as if it were a melon that I was inspecting for tenderness. Men's ego's being what they are, I have never known a man to complain about this sort of attention or request that I and my friends (who I inevitably call over to cop a feel as well) stop touching him. Men are so easy.

Anyhow, this wasn't a weekend wherein life long relationships were created, but I think that the relationship of me and my girls was definitely strengthened. I now know that normally picky eater J will eat almost an entire cow for breakfast after a long night of hanging out. I now know that the other J is a great hair stylist, and that we as a group will the use the attention that men lavish on J to our advantage whenever need be!

The downside of all star weekend was, as it always is, the behavior of my people. I know its Vegas, where you can drink, buy a prostitute legally, see naked women, party and/or chill for each of the 24 hours of every single day and so people tend to get besides themselves. But to lose all home training or regard for that which is socially acceptable public behavior...And what really gets me are the comments that women/girls are willing to respond to.

"Ay girl". Usually followed by the subsequent and seemingly compulsory "Ay, Ay, Ay". Unless that phrase is followed up with words like: fire, gun, car, run for your life...I refuse to even acknowledge that those comments may be directed at me. I assume that surely no one is trying to get my attention by yelling at me like a dog, "Ay girl"; surely they are talking to an animal, child, or some other "girl" in the vicinity. And yet I saw many women responding to this as if it was the customary address to a queen. Why? They don't recognize their value. They are unaware that they are worth, at the very least, that man getting off his lazy behind walking over to her and properly introducing himself as an adult man should. They either forgot or are just unaware that they are God's gift to men and don't have to settle for such tomfoolery.
Clearly "Ay girl" was not the most heinous example of dudes tryna holla, but it was certainly the most prevalent.
The fights, the shootings, the necessity of busloads of police officers...these saddened me most. It was if all the worst stereotypes about black people were on display for these combat ready police officers that were posted on every 15 feet of the strip. Frankly they made me feel safer. I just wonder would an event that drew 400,000 Japanese people require this kind of police presence, what about Puerto Ricans, Mexicans, Chinese, whites, southern whites? What makes some groups need this sort of supervision to prevent anarchy while others would likely be able to conduct themselves without incident....

Like Forreal, Forreal

I am too excited about this weekend.

No grown adult person should be this amped about going out of town. I'm like a 5 year old that knows she's going to disneyland tomorrow.

Except the theme park i'm going to involves alcohol, hoe-couture (as J likes to call it), and what i can only hope is a sea of big backs as far as the eye can see. Which is SOOOOO much better then disneyland, 5 year olds are idiots!

Mostly I hope its a fun trip that reaps lots of great stories...stories that I may need to take with me to my grave, but stories nonetheless.

all falls down

I'm so angry.

So hateful, right now.
I have tried to let this go, and i do well for a while. At least I stopped wishing that she would die.
But then something happens that brings it all back to mind, and I can barely concentrate for being so preoccupied with hostility.
And the fact that me thinking of her and that situation makes me feel like this makes me hate her even more for having this kind of power and control without even trying or saying a word to me.
and I hate him.
but i hate him at least once a week, and usually twice on sundays so that is nothing new.
but i forgot about my capacity for ill will.
I gotta work on this, this is terrible.

And to think just yesterday I was so happy.

True, True

This is from DailyOM.com:

Owning Your Emotions
Name It And Claim It

Our feelings can sometimes present a very challenging aspect of our lives. We experience intense emotions without understanding precisely why and consequently find it difficult to identify the solutions that will soothe our distressed minds and hearts. Yet it is only when we are capable of naming our feelings that we can tame them by finding an appropriate resolution. We retake control of our personal power by becoming courageous enough to articulate, out loud and concisely, the essence of our emotions. Our assuming ownership of the challenges before us in this way empowers us to shift from one emotional state to another-we can let go of pain and upset because we have defined it, examined the effect it had on our lives, and then exerted our authority over it by making it our own. By naming our feelings, we claim the right to divest ourselves of them at will.

As you prepare to acknowledge your feelings aloud, gently remind yourself that being specific is an important part of exercising control. Whatever the nature of your feelings, carefully define the reaction taking place within you. If you are afraid of a situation or intimidated by an individual, try not to mince words while giving voice to your anxiety. The precision with which you express yourself is indicative of your overall willingness to stare your feelings in the face without flinching. Naming and claiming cannot always work in the vacuum of the soul. There may be times in which you will find the release you desire only by admitting your feelings before others. When this is the case, your ability to outline your feelings explicitly can help you ask for the support, aid, or guidance you need without becoming mired in the feelings that led you to make such an admission in the first place.

When you have moved past the apprehension associated with expressing your distressing feelings out loud, you may be surprised to discover that you feel liberated and lightened. This is because the act of making a clear connection between your circumstances and your feelings unravels the mystery that previously kept you from being in complete control of your emotional state. To give voice to your feelings, you must necessarily let them go. In the process, you naturally relax and rediscover your emotional equilibrium.



I've always known that I was no good at keeping my emotions bottled up.

Those women you hear about who suspect thier husband of cheating b/c they find a miniscule clue, so they patiently wait and gather more evidence over time until they have an airtight case or come upon the smoking gun.

I am incapable of this.

The first miniscule clue I find he will know all about it 2.5 seconds after I find out about it.

I always thought this rush to confront and or tell ppl how I feel was a result of my impatience. I don't like to wait-on anything. I'm all about right now.

But recently I experienced a situation where for various and lengthy reasons I wasn't able to articulate to the person how I felt, how angry, hurt and saddened I was by their actions. It took such an unexpected toll on me. I was angry about the situation so I ended up angry about everything else, since I couldn't talk to the person I wanted/needed to talk to I didn't want to talk to anyone. My spirit was so heavy, I felt toxic, like I was making myself ill carrying around all these emotions. I didn't talk about the situation to anyone else because i've always felt like if you aren't going to tell the person that made you mad about your anger then what is the point of discussing your anger at all, what point is served if your telling ppl who have no ability to help the situation.

So I held it in.

When I was finally able to talk to the person and tell them how I felt and why I felt that way, it was such a sweet release, I could finally let go of the anger and the hurt. My mere statement of feelings by no means provided any resolution to our situation, and I was never under the belief that it would, but once I said my peace i was in a place where I could actually hear what they needed to say to me.

Funny thing is if they had taken the dailyOM's advice in the first place this entire situation wouldn't have existed.

As usual I'm right...lol

19th Grade

It all started with Eric Lytle. The year was 1986. We attended Coyote Canyon Elementary School, and we were both in Mrs. Smith's kindergarten class. Beginning from day one Eric and I vyed for the top spot in the class. He was so smug, and certain that his boyhood made him infinitely smarter then me. I'll admit he won many of the battles, I often came in second to his scores. But in 6th grade I won the war-I was asked to skip 7th grade. He was livid, I took great pleasure in informing him that my maturity level in combination with my academics were the reason given for the catapult to 8th grade. I don't think Eric ever recovered, I know that I never stopped gloating.
Fast forward 10+ years. I'm a lawyer. Its a job. I do it because it pays me and because I like the work involved. I'm not a rocket scientist, I haven't cured cancer, I don't race stock cars, I go to work, read stuff, and give my opinion. I had no idea the effect my job title would have on my interactions with men or how at 25 I'd still be embroiled in a competition a la Eric v. Jennifer k-6.
Lately it seems all my conversations with men follow this general pattern:

They: What do you do?
I'm a lawyer
They: REALLY. Wow. Well I'm a professional too, I do __________. I mean I'm thinking about going back to school but_________. But I mean I make good money, etc....How old are you?
25
They: wow....(more exploratory questions) So you have a roommate?
No
They: so you live by yourself?
Yep
They: well what kind of car do you drive?
Honda civic
They: (usually some gesture of relief along with some variation of:) OH well I drive a (insert car that is better then 2000 Honda Civic-which incidentally is almost any car).
ok.

I've had almost this exact conversation more times then I care to remember and each time I ask the same question at the end-"I'm sorry, are we in some sort of competition?" And even though the verbal answer is always no, all other indications seem to point to the contrary.
It starts with the job and/or eduation, when and/or if they feel like they can't compete on that level we move on to living situation, if they feel like thier living situation isn't up to par then we devolve to the type of car that I drive. It amazes me the amount of confidence they regain when the figure out that their car is better then mine, like they've won something, like they can go back to feeling good about themselves, and I am now once again attainable.

What is with that?

In their defense these same men claim that a professional woman doesn't intimidate them, that they would be ok if their girl/wife made more money them etc. But that sentiment doesn't ring true when they interrogate me to find a "chink" in my supposed armor.
I had this conversation on Saturday and on Monday I went looking for a new car, and I thought to myself what happens when I get a new car? Will my job, living situation, and car conspire to break the spirit of every man I meet from now on? Is it a requirement that a man have or do something "better" then a woman for him to feel secure? Many argue that men need to feel needed by their women, and when that isn't the case gender roles are reversed and take a toll on the relationship.

That's dumb.

Too much ppl, way too much

I am a fairly open person, I realize this. But my deepest, darkest, most intimate/embarrassing tidbits are reserved for a special few.

People give up FAR too much information.

In the past few weeks I have learned that my co-worker's 13 year old son has a very large penis and balls for his age. That the cup that they make him wear for little league gives him a horrible rash in said enlarged nether region. Furthermore the boy sleep walks and inevitably ends up in his mother's bed NIGHTLY.
I don't have kids, I have never lived with other kids so perhaps I'm not the most knowledgeable on these matters, but all of this info seems so wrong on so many levels. Who tells ppl these things, who would want others to know these things? And most importantly why me...what did I do to deserve this level of discomfort?

My other co-worker informed me today that she has an STD from one of her many ex-boyfriends, and the most recent ex has been rather stand-offish since learning this information.
Again...Why? Just Why? It wasn't as if the conversation began by me asking "Ever been given an STD by an ex?" In that case I can see answering honestly and with the utmost voracity but if the conversation is about a lawsuit against said ex, which has nothing to do with said STD, why bring up said STD? Just gloss over it...I'm not/won't be sleeping with you so why the heck do I need to know?

Just...do us all a favor...keep somethings for yourself and those closest to you. It will make me having to fake comfort much less painful.

In other news....

"I'm feeling SEXY, I wanna hear you scream my name, boy". My hair is pulled back into the perfect Jennifer Anniston/JLo/Gwenyth Paltro/Sara Jessica Parker ponytail. Which is no easy feat considering I'm black. However it's picturesque (I should take a picture today....)plus my makeup came out great, and I'm just all around feeling like a hot girl. Too bad I'm in Newport Beach where no one who notices would say anything to me anyway! Dah well...I know I'm fly.