Sunday, November 28, 2010

List Days

Goodness only knows that there are many days that I sing the praises of Pookie. He's tall, handsome, strong, dependable, stable, etc. He's what I need on so many days. But there are some days where I have to ask myself if he's truly where I need to be. Sometimes he'll do or say things that remind me of why in the back of my mind we just aren't meant to be together. When that happens, it's like it's just another thing to add to the list of things that make me think that we're on borrowed time.

I love how stable he is. Not just financially, but overall. He's the guy to stick with if you always want the 401k's and good advice on your career. We've got our son well on his way to being fully prepared for school. Pookie has spent many hours helping our son with letters, colors, and numbers. A year ago he could barely speak and now he's pretty much up there with other kids his age. For a happy household, Pookie is where I need to be.

But sometimes I go through things that make me shout in my head all over again that this isn't where I should be. I've learned to compartmentalize, but I feel that doing so isn't fair to anyone involved. The other day, after I'd met with my confused little homegirl, I wanted to bad to vent my frustrations. I called a few of my friends to tell them about my time with old girl and of course they were as shocked as I was. I wanted to hit Pookie and tell him, but I knew that he wouldn't share my outrage, my hurt, my confusion. Instead of driving straight home after my long day with her, instead I drove to the one person that I could vent to. I went to see Him. Despite him being busy doing some cleaning, he took the time to listen do me. He shared my "what the fuck?!" of the whole situation. I could see on his face that he was surprised and saddened about the girl not knowing her history.

I told him that I missed our time together. He said that he agreed that we did share some good times hanging out. Then he looked at me and said "next lifetime?" All I could say was, "do you know that you're the fourth guy to claim my next lifetime? Apparently, dating in my next four lifetimes are gonna be incredible." Seriously, I always meet fantastic guys and somehow miss them because I've got one idiotic boyfriend or another and/or the guys have girlfriends (not that Pookie is an idiot). He laughed and said that still, when we do get our chance, things will be magical.

I love Pookie so much that I want him to be the guy that I share myself with. It's so frustrating to be with the "love of my life" but to feel that I can't always truly open up and be who and what I am. Which goes into another point on the list. I often think that he wants me to be something or someone that I'm not. I've been a free spirit since the day I was born. I can't help it. People love that about me though. I'm so easy going and comfortable in my own skin that even my enemies really want to be my friend. Sometimes I wish that Pookie could look at me and see me for the loving, outgoing, charming woman that I really am. Instead I feel that he often looks at me and sees me for what I'm not. It's amazing how I'd spent so much of my life hating myself that the moment I finally learn to love myself, I've got someone that's trying to tweak me.

Don't get me wrong, he's done a lot of good for me. He showed me that I'm not the fat ass that I thought I was and he's got me wearing better clothes and looking more like a girl. He's helped me to get a career path and he's going to help me get through grad school, the same way he helped me to get through undergrad. But sometimes when my inner hippie emerges, he rolls his eyes. When I make silly jokes, he often doesn't understand that I'm kidding and he looks at me like I'm an idiot. If I say that I don't like a song, a movie, or an artist, he questions my tastes and acts as though I'm an uncouth, uneducated ignoramus. For the record, my cd collection includes Frank Sinatra, Harry Connick Jr, Barry Manilow, Stevie Wonder and many others. Just because I don't like some rap artists does not mean that I'm unaware or unable to appreciate good music. He doesn't like the soundtrack to "Purple Rain" (wtf?!) but I don't judge him based on that. Among my favorite movies is Citizen Kane and Goodfellas. Just because I didn't like "Godfather," that doesn't make me a moron.

When I want to save the world by going above and beyond for my kids and/or I bend over backwards for my friends, he questions me and my motives. He gets annoyed when I drop what I'm doing to help a friend in need. He doesn't quite understand that my friends are my family and that I'll take a bullet for my family. The same friends that he gets annoyed at me for going to pick up when they're stranded, are the same friends that will watch Pumpkin when we're in a crunch and need a sitter. On the other hand, Him would totally understand that and support it. Next lifetime? *sigh*

I've also recognized that while Him is the man that can always satisfy my emotional needs, Fred is the man that can always satisfy me sexually. Although Pookie is undeniably the best lover I've ever had, Fred brings a magnetism to the table that is unlike anything I've ever seen. Fred is so confident and sometimes downright cocky. I've said before that Fred ain't the marryin' type, but sexually, he draws women like a moth to a flame. There's something about his swag, his confidence and his air that make him unstoppable. I've told myself that if I ever get married, I cannot allow myself to be alone with Fred. Seriously, he can go from touching your knee to having your shirt off in 15 minutes. He's calm, cool, sexy. You don't even realize what's going on until your legs are in the air. Although Pookie is the man that I would most likely spend the rest of my life with, sometimes I wish that he had the same fire that Fred has. Fred is so exciting. The last time I saw him, things were suppose to be platonic but when he turns himself on, even the most innocent visit can turn naughty. Needless to say, I only hang with him in groups now that I'm committed.

The irony is that Pookie could totally have the same amount of sexual energy, but he holds himself back. Its like he's afraid to let go, to be vulnerable, to trust and believe in who he is. I believe in him, but until he fully believes in himself, he'll never have what Fred has. Fred knows and believes that he can have any woman he wants, and he does them as he wishes. He's adventurous and exciting. There's nothing he fears intimately and it makes him so desirable. And the women love him for it. I've seen Fred be over arrogant and he was a turn off, but later on, I wanted him just the same.

I want for Pookie to open up and trust in himself. I want him to fully know that he's the love of my life so sexually he can be as confident and open as he wants. I won't judge him, I won't reject him, I won't ridicule him. I just want him to explore himself as deeply as he needs to in order to get past his mental block of imperfection.

If only I could get the stability of Pookie, with the emotional intelligence of Him, and the sexual prowess of Fred, my world would be complete. But I guess I can't. I've got to accept Pookie just how he is. Hopefully, one day, he can do the same thing for me.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Thanksgiving in Paradise- Is This Really My Life?

A little before Halloween, I'd realized that the holidays were coming. I hit my childhood friend and informed her that I planned to cover her home in Christmas lights. She wondered why I'd do such a thing and I told her because I felt like it. Thankfully she knows how I am so she knows to expect a big, light, bright, loud, tacky, over the top display. I even told Fred that I may make him assist me, although he said that sounds too much like "manual labor" for his taste. Good thing I don't really care what he wants.

But amazingly, the closer I got to the holidays, the better things got. I'd started planning on buying gifts, something I wasn't able to do the previous years. I've already bought a few gifts for Pumpkin and Pookie's mom. I'm planning to buy stuff for my homegirls, my family and of course Pookie. Yesterday Pookie made the turkey and the collards, while I knocked out the mac and cheese, stuffing, gravy, and sweet potato souffle. My dad hit me up to ask what we were doing and if we were eating. He asked to come by and I told him truthfully that we hadn't prepared enough for 4 others. He said that he understood and asked if we'd like to host Christmas here at my home, and that he'd supply the food. I told him that I'd be honored. But then I had to run it by Pookie.

Pookie said that he didn't really want the responsibility of cooking and hosting. I grew silent and went out on the patio to sit alone. I didn't mean to. It wasn't the silent treatment. He asked if I was okay and I said yes. I wasn't trying to make him feel bad. It's just that hosting Christmas would be yet another sign that I was finally coming into my own as an adult. He continued to look at my face and he agreed that we could host.

I stayed out on the patio and wanted to share with him how I'd felt. How happy I was. I wanted to hug him and thank him for everything. I just ordered my GRE book to get ready to enter grad school. My son, who was barely verbal this time last year, now talks until I just want to smack him. Pookie, who a year ago I just wanted to walk away from is my boyfriend and we are exclusive. Better yet, we aren't just together because he messed up and he's trying to make amends for his bad behavior. Instead we're on the same page and truly care for one another. It's not uncommon for me to call out to him, "Baby!" when I need his attention. I prayed for a job this time last year and was so disappointed when I didn't get the job I went for back then. Later on I got my current job where I make my own schedule, get to work with kids, and I got inspired to go back to school. Truthfully, if I'd gotten that other job, I imagine that I'd still be there, and that I would be making more than I do now, but I wouldn't have the vision to see as clearly and focused as I do now with my current career path. I wanted to walk up to Pookie and thank him so much for holding me down and loving me when I didn't always love myself.

Later in the evening I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms around him. I thanked him and told him that for the first time in my adult life, I'm so happy. Things are perfect. This is the first time I've looked forward to Christmas since I was 16. For the first time, I feel in control. I've got the most beautiful and wonderful friends and sisters that a girl could ask for. I'm more confident than I've ever been. It's like my dark cloud has lifted and I'm free to love myself and others. I still get irritated, but overall I don't think that I could be shaken. I had to do a lot and shake a lot of folks to get where I am, but I wouldn't change it all for anything.

I'm finally getting where I'm supposed to be.

Monday, November 22, 2010

the future is fucked

I met with one of my kids today. She is a young teenager. I took her to a coffeehouse and I observed the Smokey Robinson playing in the background. I pointed out the ditty and I told her that it was Smokey. She looked at me and said "who?" I looked at her and said "Smokey Robinson?" Again, she said "who?" I grew exasperated.

I started to give her a history lesson on Smokey and the cultural impact that Motown had on segregated America. Then I told her that Stevie Wonder also got his start at Motown. Again she said "who?" Just imagine how perplexed I was by then. I'm not gonna lie, not only am I a music snob, I'm also a major Stevie Wonder fan so I totally didn't understand her. It's like she was speaking Russian to me. So anyway, then I explained to her that Stevie did the song "Happy Birthday" which was responsible in part for garnering support for the creation of a national day of observance for Dr. King's birthday. She then said she recognized the song and asked if he was the same dude that did the song "Cupid Shuffle." *sigh* My soul died just a little by having her ask me DID STEVIE WONDER DO THE SONG CUPID SHUFFLE? What the fuck are kids learning today? I told her no, he didn't do the song. I also discovered that she didn't know who Aretha Franklin is.

Anyway, while talking to her I started to give her a history lesson. I began by telling her about the Black Panther Party. I told her about the brutal murder of Fred Hampton by the Chicago Pigs and how I at one point ran with an organization that was started by his son. I told her how much they did for Oakland and how they went on to have groups all over the country. I told her they were taken down by the government because they were succeeding in getting Black people to flourish and be independent. She called my lesson "boring." I'm sorry, but what the fuck? I may be a lot of things, but I'm far from boring.

Then I started to talk about the protests and marches that happened in Alabama. I explained to her that when you watch the clips of the protests, the people there were children, her age, because their parents weren't able to march because they had to keep their bosses happy, so they didn't want to be on the news marching. I told her that the kids in those clips were hosed, bitten by dogs, tear gassed, and beaten mercilessly. I explained to her that when a lot of those kids were arrested, it wasn't uncommon for some of them to not make it home. I explained to her that pretty little brown girls like her were often raped by old white men and that the law didn't give a shit. Still, she shrugged and called it "boring." I even explained to her that stuff happened only 50 years ago, meaning that her grandmother could be old enough to have witnessed it. She still said it wasn't fascinating at all. I couldn't believe it. I asked her if she knew about Harriet Tubman and she shook her head and said that she didn't know who HE was. She even thought that Harriet Tubman was a dude! *banging head on desk*

Truthfully I wasn't always as into history as I am now, but I'd always cared about the struggles of Blacks. Perhaps it was because I was raised in the 80's on the heels of the end of the Black Power movement. I was named after Malcolm X for God's sake. I remember when the first MLK day was observed. When I was 14, for Christmas I'd asked my mother for a copy of the book "Makes Me Wanna Holler" by Nathan McCall. It was about his struggles as a Black man growing up in this country. It remains one of my favorite books, and when my son hits the same age, I plan to make him read it.

I'd loved the move Panther when it came out. I was about 14 at the time. There is a song on the soundtrack for the movie where Huey Newton was heard saying "We want freedom. We want decent education that teaches us about this racist, decadent system. We want education that teaches us about our true history of our role in the world and society today. We want education, we want justice, we want freedom." And later in the same song "So the concept is this basically. The whole Black nation has to be put together as a Black army. And we're gonna walk on this nation, we're gonna walk on this racist power structure, and we're gonna say to the whole damned government, STICK 'EM UP MUTHAFUCKA! WE COME FOR WHAT'S OURS!" I didn't understand it fully at the time, but I knew overall that my people had been shafted and that some bad ass cats wanted what we were owed. And I may have only been 14 or 15 at the time, but I knew they were speaking some real shit. I knew those lyrics and the whole song by heart. But here, around the same age, she felt it didn't effect her.

I then said out loud that I'd just decided that I'd look through some books and get something about Black history for her. She shook her head and told me not to waste my money because she wouldn't read it. I assured her that it would be good. Again, she shook her head. Then I said to her "look, I wouldn't do this for anyone else, but I'll pay you to read the book. Would you be willing to read a book on Black history if I paid you?" She looked at me and said no. I couldn't believe it. She didn't ask how much. She didn't say maybe. She didn't even think about it. She said no. I asked her again. She shook her head. I asked her to think about my offer. She again said no. My heart ached a little. I was sitting here, talking to a high school aged girl, that refused to read about her own history for MONEY. Do you understand? SHE WOULDN'T READ ABOUT HER OWN HISTORY IF I PAID HER TO DO SO.

There was nothing else to do or say. I told her that it was getting late and that we needed to go. As I drove home, I couldn't help but to focus on that. What the fuck has happened to kids where a girl her age couldn't be convinced to read about the struggles of her own people for money?

I got home and put on the movie "Panther," which I'd coincidentally saved on Netflix about a week ago. I saw a clip of Chairman Fred Hampton Sr. and they played a clip where they portrayed his brutal murder. I thought back on my time with Chairman Fred Jr's organization. I met him a few times and he's an intense dude. The things I did with that organization were so deep that there are still things that I don't tell people about and I never will. I didn't like some things that I saw, but I've got so much respect for what I learned while I was with that organization. Watching the movie, I loved how some of the young characters were willing to lay their lives on the line for the struggle and I remembered how I would have been willing to do the same thing. "Better to die on your feet than live on your knees." While there, we had to learn as much as we could about our history and we went out weekly and fed people. We worked together. We were a team. I hate that things ended when and how they did, but they'll never know how much I learned from them. I've got a few friends that are still involved in the movement. I'm not as involved as I once was, but I still try to support them as much as I can. While many Black people are asleep, there are many grassroots organizations that seek to pick up where the Black Panther Party left off.

So while some teenagers are busy, going to work, trying to fight against the system, other kids only know about Dr. King. I don't know what to do or say right now. I'm hurt. I'm embarrassed for her. I'm pissed at her mother for not talking to her about her history since she was old enough to hear it. I'm frustrated because the reason I studied media in college was so that I could work against the bullshit that the media is dumbing down our kids with. I feel like I'm failing. *sigh* kids are fucked.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Facebook Drama Part Deux

A while back I wrote about my friend that got and accepted a Facebook invite from her husband's mistress. After I warned her, she eventually unfriended her and went on with her life. These days on Facebook, folks are doing the "Send a question to my inbox and I'll answer it on my status" thing. Some of my other friends are posting about how stupid and dangerous it is, and others are theorizing that relationships are bound to be ending over this game. Little do they know that personally, I'm watching a whole different set of issues unfold on there.

Back in high school, my best friend (Julie) was a few years older than me, but she dated a dude that was in my grade (Derek). She and he broke up when she cheated on him. Since then, they've both moved on. She's got kids, he's got kids and they'd fallen into distant memories. On Facebook a while back, I noticed that many of my online friends were going to be attending an engagement party. I looked at the invite and discovered that it was my best friend's ex. She's not on FB, so I passed the info on to her. She told me that she was happy for him and wished him the best.

I later decided to send him an FB invite, after all, we were at one point classmates. To my surprise, he not only accepted the invite, he sent me a message asking how she was doing. I told Derek that Julie was doing well and that she lived in the same house that she'd grown up in. He asked for her number. *Pause* I guess I should have considered the fact that he was engaged, but I took that to mean that he only wanted to get a little closure over his bad breakup from his high school love before he got married. *Resume* I sent him her number and hit her and told her that I'd passed it on. She shrugged.

Derek later called Julie and he agreed to go to her home to catch up. She told me that he showed up with a condom. We know how the story goes from there. Fast forward a month and a half later and they've had sex a few more times. He's since told Julie how unhappy he is with his fiance, and when asked if he still intended to marry her, he'd say that after falling for my friend again, he still wasn't sure. She even tried to tell him to beat it, but he's taken the stance that he's not going anywhere. My girls and I have even considered that perhaps he is trying to get revenge on Julie by making her fall in love, only to harshly dump her with his impending wedding. I've warned her that it's a no win situation. I consider myself a bit of an expert on these kinds of things. She said that it was purely physical on her end, so no harm, no foul. Naturally, I was put on alert to when he may be posting things that have to do with her.

I observed that one day, one of my classmates posted the word "congratulations" on his page. I took note and wondered what it was about, but I figured it had to do with the engagement. I chuckled. A few days later, Julie and our other friend Kathy called me. Kathy asked if I'd seen the congrats notices on his page. I said that I had, but I hadn't taken much notice to it. Kathy said there had also been congrats notes that said things about his expanding family and about Derek expecting another child. Naturally, the three of us girls went into high alert. It was one thing for him and my homegirl to be fooling around, even if he was just unhappy, it was totally different if he was in reality having no desire to leave his fiance because they had an expanding family on the horizon.

I agreed to hit up my classmate to casually ask if Derek and his fiance were expecting a child. She confirmed our suspicions. Since Derek's fiance and I also had a bunch of mutual friends, I also sent her an FB invite. hoping to slide in undetected. It worked. But what I'd found then really surprised me. Apparently the fiance (who at one point had herself listed as his fiance) had herself listed as "single." She'd written something last week about women not having any respect for men in relationships. Uh oh. I texted my squad. She said that she'd have to forgive. She said that she'd have to depend on God because He would never let her down. Hmmm...

Derek kept things cool with Julie. He hadn't said anything was out of the ordinary. Julie, Kathy and I theorized the situation. Perhaps he'd told her about Julie. But if so, what were his reasonings? Did he tell her about my friend, hoping that she'd be heart broken and break up with him so he wouldn't have to man up and do it himself? Had someone told his fiance that they'd seen he and Julie at the home they shared together? I warned Julie that our hometown was really small and close knit and that his particular neighborhood turned out men that considered themselves brothers for life. The women from Derek's neighborhood were close also. That's one of the things I love and hate about the area that I'm from. Most of the people that grew up that way don't move too far away so there isn't much that goes undetected.

But then it got a bit deeper. I looked at Derek's page again and noticed that a different girl had posted something on his page, thanking him for making her pregnant. She promised to be a great wife to him and mother to his child. A short while later, the fiance posted a tagged ultrasound pic of their baby on his page. WTF?! TWO women pregnant by Derek, while he's banging out Julie at the same time? Again, I texted the ladies. Since Kathy has a page, I told her to go to his page and what to look at. I also gave her my log in info so that she could further dissect the fiance's page.

So basically, through FB, my friend linked back up with her engaged exboyfriend. Through FB we then learned that his fiance is pregnant. And through FB learned about potential another potential woman as well. And, this, my friends is why so many people avoid Facebook like the plague. I often hear it referred to as "the devil." Well, both FB and Twitter are referred to that way. I've cranked back up my Twitter usage, which is cool, but I digress.  Facebook has again reared it's ugly head and put a bunch of people's business out. So while everyone else is doing this question and answer bullshit, I'm watching some real shit unfold. All for my best friend of course. Maybe it's safe to say that nothing is wrong with FB.  Derek and the other none-careful idiots like him are the real problem.

Growing Up and Moving On

Friday night started like any other payday for me. I went to a company meeting and met with some of my coworkers. I observed that one of them was pregnant. I half jokingly told her to get drugs and a lot of them during her labor.  After the meeting, I went to Daisy's house and urged her to come with me to hang for the evening.

Since the move, I was exhausted and needed a night out. All I'd wanted was the chance to go out and get a drink with the homies. My old crush, Kelsy Davis, posted on his Facebook page that he was doing a free show at a spot called the Chocolate Bar so Daisy and I decided to stop in there first.

I warned Daisy in advance that she'd be Kelsy's type. During one of our hangout sessions he'd told me that he has a thing for women with small waists and big butts, which happens to be Daisy to a tee. We got there and after we saw him, he told us that he'd already performed. I headed straight to the bar then back to him. He asked us to come hang with him and a few friends. As we walked out, he held the door open and stared at her ass as he walked out. I told her that if she wanted to kick it with him, I'd have no problems with it.

As we hung with the musicians and painters drinking, we had guys admiring us and asking us questions. By that point I was buzzed and enjoying the attention. I'm kind of over Kelsy and he and I are friends now, but I had an okay time flirting with his friends as he eyeballed mine.

After we got tired of the guys, we decided to hit up the old standby MJQ Concourse. We got in there and did  the regular. We made rounds and said hey to Sky and Murph, we danced in the lounge (or tried, to the dj was horrible), and we eventually separated to our separate corners. While I walked around I ran into an old friend of mine. We'd fallen out over something stupid and we didn't really reconnect until I'd sent her a Facebook invite  while ago. I'd heard through the grapevine that she'd gotten married and had a child, but I was surprised at how much she'd really changed.

My friend, who I'll call Karen, used to be the baddest bitch in the city. She used to have locs down her back and a bangin body. I've actually heard some of my guy friends comment about how much they wanted to bed her. She knew the doorman at every major club in the city. She'd had a fascinating life and men were drawn to her like flies to honey. Men sponsored her to the point that I'd once watched her say to a random guy that she wanted him to buy her lunch and he did. We were working at a record store and she asked a random customer to buy her lunch and he actually got it for her. She thanked him but I don't even think she introduced herself or told the dude her name. She was once in a point to put Trina, Nicki Minage, and Ciara to shame. She was the pied piper of men. They followed her stupidly and she arrogantly relished her power.

But seeing her in the club was different. She'd gained about 20 lbs. and her long locs were replaced with hair that had been permed or straightened and was in some kind of curly, nondescript mop on her head. My friend, who used to wear short skirts, tight dresses, skin tight jeans, and tube tops, was now wearing an outfit that covered her from top to bottom. She no longer commanded the room the way she once did. She seemed bored as she dragged behind the girlfriend she came with.

I used to be the friend that tailed behind Karen. I was the little chubby nerd and Karen is the woman that fully introduced me to the underground Atlanta music scene. After she and I fell out, I managed to flourish on my own and meet my own connects. Now here she was, in our old stomping ground, looking like a mom. Not a milf, but a mom. Truthfully, that night, for the first time since I've known her, I think I could have pulled more men that night than she did.

About an hour into our time at the club, I too became, well, bored. The club was hella smokey. The dudes in there were so wack. The music was the same shit I'd been listening to in clubs since I'd started going 10 years ago. My buzz had died. I missed Pookie and Pumpkin. I wished that I'd stayed home and curled up with them instead. I wanted to go home. We'd originally planned to stay at the club until it closed at 3, but I found Daisy and asked if she wanted to leave early.

I realized that I'd really grown out of it all. I felt too damned old to be there. People were drunk and stupid. The cigarettes were killing me. I ran into some asshole that wasn't paying attention to his cancer stick and i got ash all over my brand new, favorite sweater. I was sleepy. My head hurt. I'd been up since that morning with an appointment for my son and I wanted nothing more to go home and sleep in my own bed.

On the way out of the club, I'd run into the same pregnant coworker. She said that her husband worked in the club as she introduced him. I sleepily looked at him and announced that I was getting too old for the club. He scolded me and said that there was no such thing as being too old to hang out all night. She sat back, 5 months pregnant, and said she'd agreed with him.

All I could think to myself was how once the baby arrived, she'd see things differently. She'd be up all day chasing down a child, taking care of home, and working, and the last damned thing she'd do would be to go to a club. I knew that she'd eventually tire of him working in a club and ask him to get a job that works with her schedule. I didn't bother to bust her bubble. I just smiled as they both got on me for saying that was outgrowing the club. It's okay though. I went home to my family.

Fun has taken on a brand new meaning. And that's all right with me.

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Lies About My Vagina

So we've moved. Changing apartments has had a wonderful impact on us. We're arguing less, we're working with one another more. We've discovered one another in ways that we've never known before. Its been a few months now and its like we're on some kind of twisted honeymoon. We even lay down, going to sleep at the same time.

During one of our recent afternoon naps, as he held me, he asked a few intimate questions. He asked about my sexual past, partners and all. He asked who my first was and I told him that it was my ex, David. He asked about who the best lovers were. I honestly told him that he's been the best, but that David and Fred were in the top 3. I told him a little more about Fred and my purely sexual attraction to him. It was kind of relieving telling Pookie about him, because I'd been feeling that Fred was a dirty secret for so long, that it felt good to come clean about it.

Pookie then asked another question. He asked if I'd ever had a train run on me. I told him no. He told me not to be embarrassed and asked again. Again, I said no and that there was no embarrassment, because there was no train. Pookie then said "well, that's not what I heard." I couldn't help but to laugh. I asked who said that mess, and he refused to answer, but he didn't have to. I know that it was yet another hater that disliked me. Pookie then asked if I'd had sex with two guys that were homies at the same time. Again, the answer was no. I even admitted to him that I'd met Fred through another guy and I never got down with that guy because I'd gotten down with Fred first. He asked if I'd had sex with a few guys that were in the same crew. No. Had I had sex while one guy was in the house and later had sex with his same friend who was in the house. NO! As much as he tried to get me to own up to it, there simply was no orgy, no trains, no being the neighborhood bicycle to a bunch of musicians in the same group.

He claimed that he'd heard all kinds of wild stories about my past and how I'd dated all kinds of musicians in Atlanta. I told him that although I did date a lot of musicians, the fact was that I was dating David most of the time so sexually he was the primary one that got any action below the belt. I'd actually told him that I'd even just blogged about it here.

The strange thing is that this is actually the THIRD time that I've known someone to lie about my sexual history. A guy that I kicked it with briefly a few years ago told me that my former roommate/best friend had told him that some guy I dated told her that the sex with me was bad. That was untrue for a few reasons.
1) The men that I date and get down with are more respectful than that and they wouldn't dish dirt on me like that.
2) As a rule, I tend to keep my guys away from my friends. The men that I date have little to no exposure to my girlfriends and that is intentional. So there was only one man that I'd dated that she knew.
3) The only man that I'd dated who she had access to will tell you that I WAS OFF THE CHAIN. I pleased that man and made his toes curl to the point that he was calling me even after I'd given birth to another man's baby.
4) If a man just had to say that the sex with me was bad, I highly doubt he'd tell it to someone that touted herself as my best friend.
5) IT AIN'T TRUE! Not to toot my own horn, but I gets down with the get down. Any man that's ever kept company with me like that will tell you that I'm fun, sensual, adventurous, and I aim to please. There is only one sexual experience that I've ever had that was bad was due to the fact that the dude had a bunch of emotional issues. Other than that, I'm a total minx. ;)

The other moment where someone lied about me and my precious vaj is when my ex's baby mama (thank God for restraining orders) had the gall to tell him that she didn't believe that he was my first. She said that based on the fact that a week later, I had sex with the guy that was my actual boyfriend. Basically, I cheated on my boyfriend at the time and lost my virginity to David. I had sex with my actual boyfriend later. So somehow in her warped mind, that equated to me lying. David even questioned me about it, based on me having sex with him later. Um, sorry folks, lord knows I wish I could have changed it, but David was my first. Ick. It's crazy how a bitch that wasn't even the damned state at the time could claim to know what was going on with my private parts, but I guess that's just how sought out my va jay jay is.

And now yet another fool is out there spreading lies about things going on with me and my lady area. It doesn't really surprise me though. That wasn't even the first time he'd accused me of lying about my history (here for reminders on that one). I've always been sensuous and I've always been seen as a free spirited and ditsy individual so many people have equated that with me being free and loose with the part of my body that I have titled "Girlfriend." I told Pookie that despite what he's heard and despite what he'd like to think, Girlfriend isn't free or willy nilly at all. Sure, I've had my moments of casual experiences, and most of them I would not take back, but I'm a tad more conservative sexually than many people expect. Sure, with the basics, I'm a pro at doing what men want and need, but I'm not the chick to be fucking a whole football team or a band, or a guy just because he says he's a rapper or producer.

I guess that ,again, I'll just have to accept that lies are a part of comes with greatness. And God, Pookie, Fred, and only handful of other men know how great Girlfriend really is.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Generational Changes

A homegirl of mind had a profound thought recently. She observed that most of the women she knew her age had very strained or nonexistent relationships with their mothers. My friend theorized why women of our generation (Generation X) didn't get along so well with our mothers. She said that she believes that the older generation resents our freedom.

That was undeniably one of the most thought provoking things I'd ever heard. How right she was. My friend remarked how when our mothers were younger, females were expected to be docile and to go along with the flow. They were not allowed to ask questions.They took what was handed to them and were taught to be thankful, whether it was gentle or brutal. Our mothers were raised at a time when young girls were expected to be seen and not heard. They couldn't complain if they wanted to. Their mothers weren't Claire Huxtable or Carol Brady. Our grandmothers raised our mothers with the same harsh reality that they too had faced as children.

Our mother's generation was the first where women were beginning to practice any freedom. For those women that were single mothers, unless the husband died, the woman was seen as something was wrong with her. In the 60's and 70's women didn't leave their husbands. It simply wasn't heard of. It didn't matter if he beat her, cheated on her and had children all over the place, women were expected to stay put. And if a man left her with children, well then it was her fault for being loose to begin with. If she'd cooked and cleaned and shut her mouth the way a woman was expected to, he'd be there to pay the bills and beat her and the kids, just the way a man was expected to. Women that left or resisted abusive men were nagging and selfish. Women that fought against the system were labeled and outcast.

Women slowly came into their own. They began to actively get more involved in their own educations and get into the workforce, either out of necessity or sheer desire to do so. Women that were single and/or working mothers dealt with the stigma of being judged and being ridiculed, but they did it regardless. Along with their freedom, came changes for girls of our generation. We were the first generation of latch key kids. We raised ourselves on microwave dinners and MTV.

Eventually our generation came to resist the same pressures that our mothers gave way to. We wore what we want. We only allowed our mothers so much input, because truthfully, we'd done it largely on our long for so long. Our mothers didn't (or don't) understand us. We're loud, brash, proud, and independent. We have options they never had. Birth control can come in the form of a shot, implant, or pill and no one would be the wiser. Abortions were only a few hundred dollars and a clinic visit away. If you didn't want to visit your family, you had legitimate reasons. You hear words like "slut" and "bitch" so often that the labels denote little more than a shrug from most of us. Who gives a damn if your mom is mad because she doesn't like your boyfriend, your major in college, the way you dress, or your career choice?

Truthfully, she cares. When she was your age she couldn't just dodge the bulleted questions by her mother. If she chose to do as she wanted, she had to at least listen to the nagging, questions, and insinuations. Women our age tune it out. We raised ourselves for so long, who wants to listen to the older generation, which has now slowed and is now able to dole out advice?

They're surprised to find that we're outgoing and free. They want us to humble ourselves and lower our heads to them. They resent that we can collectively live the lives that they've always wanted, but they don't understand that they raised us this way. They  raised us to be the women they'd always dreamed of being. And now they resent us for it.


Today I talked to a homeboy about Pookie and about Fred. I told him that I love Pookie with all my heart and that I feel that I'm doing something wrong. Even though Fred and I don't see one another on a regular basis and he and I aren't intimate anymore, I still think fondly back on our time together. I told my friend how I'm torn. Pookie is undeniably the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. So why do thoughts of Fred still creep up? Despite our bond, he and I have never even remotely entertained being married. Not even being in a moderate relationship. When we go out, it's not even a date, it's two friends getting together for drinks.

Anyway, my  homie said that Fred is someone that I have strong physical feelings for. He told me that I'd have to remember to put them in their correct compartments and remember that they aren't close to interchangeable. It amazed me when he'd said it because even though it was quite obvious, I'd never thought of it that way. My friend reminded me that Pookie is all I talk about, dream about, and plan my life around. My friend said that although Fred and I had a good time, Pookie is the center of my world. More importantly, my friend made me feel okay with it. He reminded me that most people have folks that they lust over. It's just that Fred and I were able to act on our desires at one point in time.

My friend reminded me that Fred was just a friend/fling. He's someone that I'll always cherish, but he's not my life. He's not the father of my child. He's not the man I cook for. He's not the man I imagine spending the rest of my life with. He's also not the man I run downstairs to greet at the door with a kiss, because I'd missed him so much. Yes, Fred is Fred. Fred is hot. But Fred is no Pookie.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

New Relationships

So after a lot of going back and forth, Pookie and I have decided that we will (again) be committed to one another. It's been about 2 months now and so far so good. I'd waited for this so long that truthfully, it's very surreal. We have typical couple struggles and whatnot. I guess I'm still just a little sensitive from our long crazy past, but I love the fact that as a couple, we have managed to continue to work on us. Some days I wouldn't mind marrying him. Truthfully, some days I wouldn't mind walking away.

I'm not going to lie, Fred is on the brain hard core. The last time I saw him, things were so good. We laughed and he held me. I listened to his heart beat. It reminded me of when he and I used to fool around. There was no Pookie, no Pumpkin and no responsibility. But he and I are different now. The funny thing is that realistically, Fred and I couldn't be together anyway. Frankly, he ain't the marryin' kind. But that doesn't stop me from day dreaming.

So back to Pookie. I love him. He puts up with a lot from me as I learn to let go of my insecurity and I slowly work to rebuild my trust in him. Sometimes we talk about getting married. Seriously. But I've told him that if it happens, it'll be by the time he's 30 in another year and a half. I don't know, it's all a big question mark.