The Epic Summer of 2012

(This is Dashill Smith. He's a well-known trumpet player in Atlanta. He played with Roy Ayers the night before. Anyway, he fell asleep next to us at the park and I decided to take this pic of him to show how sweet this summer will be for me.)

Last Sunday night, I was kind of bored and restless so I hit up a girlfriend of mine named Malenda that I'd met a while ago from another friend. She and I had become Facebook friends and we'd even talked on the phone a few times. I wanted to do Starbucks so I hit her and she agreed to roll. We got there kind of late and stayed even later. As the night wore on, I decided that we should drive through the city. From there I decided to stop in at Apache, a little spot in the city that has hosted some of today's hottest artists. Jill Scott was there in her early days, along with India. Aarie, and Malcolm Jamaal Warner. One of my favorite shows there was a very under promoted show that featured Eric Roberson and Raheem Devaughn. I met both guys that night and it was awesome to be in the room with only 20 other people while such fantastic talent on the stage. Anyway, the spot also host acts from local top artists and I remember seeing Sky there several times before along with a bunch of other friends.

When I rolled up with Malenda, I was surprised to see a few of my old homies out front. I saw Malachi (better known for his song "Hustlin' Boy"), my friend Kimani, who used to host their poetry nights, and a poet named Abyss. I started to feel like I was at home. I walked on inside and saw a couple more old friends. I started to really miss that place. I hadn't been there in nearly 3 years. Truthfully, I think I'd just missed that point in my life.

Kimani then started talking about rolling through a spot called Sound Table, so Malenda and I hit there next. Inside I saw a few more people I knew.

It was around that point that I decided that as I deal with my separation from Pookie, I need to reemerge myself into my old social life. I want to go out and have a ball. I want  surround myself with beautiful and talented people again. I want to have more incredible stories to tell.

This weekend is already showing how awesome my summer will be. I spent Saturday night with a fantastic man that I sometimes make the acquaintance of, followed by me bailing a good friend out of jail. Sunday night was me hanging at the Jazz Fest with friends. I also managed to make a new friend who I think will be an outstanding addition to my collection of besties. She has a son my child's age and we've made some of the same dating mistakes. She's mad cool and I'm planning to get her and some of my other chicks together soon for food and fun at Daisy's.

So yeah, this summer will be banging. It's not going to be a summer of chasing down men. It's going to be a summer of enjoying being single and getting to know and love myself all over again. Lucky me.

The Disconect: Another Former Potential Love Lost

Today I was on the phone with a new friend of mine as he told me about some problems he had at his job. I asked about the location and he told me that it was a Home Depot that is located near my former apartment. I immediately asked him about Musa (pronounced Moos-a), a friend of mine from way back when, that I'd adored.

Actually, I more than adored Musa. I saw him as the man that I would and should be with if the planets aligned properly. He was tall, good looking, mannerly, personable, and he had a smile that could brighten my darkest days. I got to know him as I lived in the area. I had a routine hobby of painting my apartment.

 Often when I'd get bored or restless, I run to Home Depot where I'd see Musa, in his white kufi (he was a devout Muslim). He'd greet me with that fantastic smile and ask how I was. We'd talk about our lives as he mixed my paint. I always felt so comfortable with him. It was like I'd known him for ages. The problem was that he was married (quite a common theme for me, as you sadly see). Sometimes I'd offer to let him come to my apartment just to see the fantastic paint jobs that I was accomplishing and he always declined. I figured that his faith kept him from being in close proximity alone with me so I respectfully accepted his decision to stay away.

I hadn't seen him in years, but about a year ago, I went into the Home Depot where I saw him. I immediately melted when I saw that bright white smile. We caught up since I'd had my son. He told me that he'd divorced his previous wife because she was "too in the world" and had since gotten a wife that was much more his speed. I told him that I was glad that he'd found happiness, but a small part of me was sad that I'd again missed the chance to see where things could go with him.

The last time I was in that Home Depot, unfortunately Musa wasn't there. I got my paint and went about my way. That was sometime in February. I was glad that my friend worked there and I was ready to pick his brain about the man I'd forever remember as an incredible person. What my friend said shocked me. Apparently Musa is currently in jail. Not just for something small. He was accused of jumping into a woman's car and holding a knife to her neck, and ordered her to drive. She didn't and some people came to her aid and he ran away.

I immediately told my friend "I don't believe it." I'm no dummy when it comes to how many Blacks happen to "look alike" and end up in prison for crimes they didn't commit. I shook my head while on the phone and said that I could and would not believe that it was Musa. It simply had to be someone else. Musa wouldn't do such a thing. He was too calm. Too patient. He damn near carried a halo. This is the same man that wouldn't even come to my apartment to see the painting because an unmarried man and woman shouldn't be alone together. I know my Musa, and it couldn't be him.

My friend told me to look up Musa Muhammad and Hobby Lobby. I clicked on the first link I found.

The first thing I noticed were his eyes. Those weren't the eyes of Musa. Sure, it was undeniably his face. But his eyes were bare. Those weren't the same eyes that I talked to at length. They weren't the same eyes that encouraged me to work things out with my son's father. They weren't the same eyes that smiled at me and greeted me as I painted my apartment wall for the fourth time. That couldn't be my Musa.

Then I noticed his smile. I mean with serious allegations like that, who the hell smiles? Even his smile was blank and even sinister. Again, this wasn't my friend. Then I clicked on the video link.



I couldn't believe it. One of the good Samaritans chased him down and held him until police arrived. Oh. My. God. How did this happen? The therapist in me looked for answers. Maybe he was bipolar or schizophrenic. I'm not sure. They said he also had a violent past. The eerie part is that he had rubber gloves and several zip ties on him. Musa planned to do some serious damage. The size of the butcher knife was insane. How could my Musa do this? Actually, my Musa didn't but that Musa did. It was so strange to hear the reporter refer to him as "the guy" as if he's just some random dude. But I guess, to the people that matter at this point, he really is just "that guy."

I'm so exceptionally grateful that the woman and her grandchild were okay. Although, in my line of work, I know that she'll probably have nightmares about what-could-have-been for the rest of her life.

I'd like to reach out to Musa. I'm damned sure not going to try to marry the dude or anything, but I need to look in his eyes just one more time. I'd like to visit him if he'll let me. There was a psychotic break. Don't get me wrong, he should not have did what he did and he damn sure needs to be locked away. But something inside of me needs to know that my Musa is still somewhere in there. Damn, Musa. Damn.

The Waiting Continues

I went out with a guy friend of mine yesterday. Actually, I guess I'll start at the beginning. I have known him for a few years and we ran into each other a few days ago. We flirted a little and exchanged numbers. As I emerge into the whole dating scene, I honestly struggle with the knowledge that I need to be alone and get my head together, versus my need and want to be held.

I've got a "friend" who I'll call Del. I met him a little under a year ago and he and I often cuddle, but the only problem is that well, he's a raging asshole. I love him and I'm familiar with him because I'm well-versed in dealing with assholes. But that doesn't mean that I don't want more from him. So while I cuddle with Del at times, I still know that he ain't the one. While there are those that tell me to leave Del alone, as I know I should, until I get a permanent replacement, Del is the man I get my emotional fix from. Some may look at my dating an asshole as a sign that I haven't learned shit from my previous experiences. I on the other hand consider it a huge step in the right direction, because I know that he's a dickhead and I'll use him for cuddling and comfort, just as he uses me for sex and to have his ego boosted. I guess I sound like a nut, but I've always been the kind of girl that wants to deal in the reality. The reality of our situation is that he's an asshole, but the sex is good and I like to cuddle. So until I find what I'm really looking for, I'll deal with his punk ass.

Which brings me back to my friend. We flirted more via text and agreed to meet up yesterday. He got there and we began to discuss some of our philosophies on life and it became painfully clear quite early that I was a tad more moderate on some things than he is. While I respect anyone's right to believe what they want, I know that if there is no basic foundation on somethings, its hard to build. We enjoyed our time, but I knew we'd never be. It sucks too, because I've known him long enough to know that he's a fantastic person. I guess he's just not the right man for me. *sigh* Back to the drawing board.

One of my best girlfriends is saying that she is officially "bitter" and has given up on the prospect of love. I kind of wish I could say the same, but I can't. Perhaps its my arrogance that does it, but when I look at myself I can't help but to think that I'm pretty, smart, outgoing, hilarious, and intelligent. There is no reason in hell for me to be single. But I am. So I just have to have faith that when the Universe sees it fit, it will deliver me the man of my dreams. Or at lease something close to it.