Brooklyn Dodger

“Where you can't put your vest away and say you'll wear it tomorrow
Cause the day after we'll be saying, damn I was just with him yesterday” Jay-Z

The duck and dodge is real in New York. You have the debilitating cost of living, the hazardous conditions of city living, arduous commutes, or even the pollution and All of that is a daily struggle, yet THAT isn’t even the dodge I’m referencing.  

What I’m talking about is the fact that crazy can come an inch from you and tap you on your shoulder, graze your arm…close enough to kiss you…ooooor stab you, all depending on the mood.   I mean let’s be real, the duck and dodge is real in this city. You MUST stay on the good foot at all times.   There’s no such thing as letting your guard down EVER.  Even when you look relaxed you still have your side eye-the good one on alert.  ALWAYS.

Buuuut yet in still, there’s that one, the slickest of slick, that every now and then gets past your ever so guarded personal space.  The one that somehow manages to permeate your safe space in a way that you never saw coming.  And this perhaps can happen, once a day? Maybe twice?  Yeah I know you’re like, Whooooa Nik, I thought you were on the good foot? How in the H - E - double hockey sticks can one get past you twice a day. 

Easily.

One or two is average on a good day.....when you have dodged…well over 2 dozen incidents!

Hmmph! Just last week a pigeon struck my cheek (yes it went from brushed to “struck”!)  And then a rat grazed my toe running into a building.  AND don’t get me started on the homeless man whose toes touched my very own toes…

TOUCHED MY TOES WITH HIS TOES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is nothing sacred????? 

And this morning was no different, unfortunately for me.  Picture this: I’m late. (no comments from the peanut gallery) and as I wade through the murky crowd of some of Crown Heights finest (insert sarcasm here).  I jump on the express train trying to catch the local (amateurs, don’t try this…only for professionals lol) , low and behold, what’s on my train?  A crazy. 

Not a “Class A” crazy, those are easy to spot and, consequently, to avoid.  It was more like a “Class C”.  You know the ones, that you think are sane but something seems off?  Like they have a tick? A mumble? Maybe they start a conversation and no one’s really around?  Winter clothes in the summer?  Sleep just a little TOO hard on the train, kind of like deep bedroom sleep?  Make up looks like a 5 year old did it?  A slight urine-esque smell?  Wig not quite on straight?  Yeah those are “Class C” crazies. 

Now in case you were wondering, “Class B” turns it up a bit, like louder than the norm.  Just kicks it up a notch.  And “Class A”, no explanation needed, you’ll see them coming a mile away.

Anywho, “Class C” was on the train. I jumped on, claimed my seat like “MINE!” Sat down and surveyed the scene.  Yes, I know backwards.  Usually I survey, claim, sit.  But today I was tired, late, and well…shit, why am I fronting, I wanted the seat okay? 

So I survey the scene…normal guy.  But he had a slight tick. He kept cracking his neck.  And when he looked at me, he had the,what I call, “crazy in the eye” look.  You know very glazy, look at you but not AT you? Yep, that look.  So he’s looking crazy in the eye.  And he’s writing in this book.  Now in between writing, he would crack his head, look around (with the crazy eye) and then continue writing frantically.  So you know me…still surveying the scene…I look at the book, juuuuuust to see what he was writing.

Man listen…it’s all good until you find what you’re looking for and realize you didn’t want to find it? SMH!

This book looked like some shit from a movie….numbers.  Just numbers.  Equations maybe? Counting maybe? But EVERY inch had numbers in it. EVER-Y INCH!!!!!

Sir.

What .

Are.

You .

Calculating??????

As A Matter of fact….

NEVER

MIND

*grabs things and exits stage left*

(blogger note: Sorry for the long delay in posts…I really didn’t think through a schedule once I started having script deadlines.  I will try to be more consistent going forward….(hopefully) )

Storytelling Monday: Awkward Moments

awk·ward /ˈôkwərd/Adjective: Not smooth or graceful; ungainly; Causing or feeling embarrassment or inconvenience

I have totally blonde moments.  And when i say blonde, I don’t mean the fake platinum blonde, I mean the strawberry blonde “like OH EM GEEEE” moments. And I guess part of it is this strangely naïve part of me, and the other is just lack of knowledge/experiences, especially when it comes to relationships or opposite sex encounters.  And it’s funny because of my personality I think people assume that, that’s not the case.  Not that people think I’m a “hoe” lolol absoooooolutely not.  BUT, they certainly wouldn’t think I’m as reserved as I am.  And as I’ve gotten older I’m starting to realize that  there’s just some stuff I don’t know, nor have been exposed to AND because of that, I don’t know how to maneuver.  This in turn creates what??? Uncomfortable encounters.

*I'm gonna do my best to adjust this story to protect the innocent and only slay myself LOLOL we’ll see*

A few years back, I linked with an old friend, for drinks and to just, you know ,“hang out” (you’ll know why this is in quotes as you read on lol).  After a few drinks, he wanted to go back to his house to watch movies. I was cool with that. I mean, hey, I like movies and I could watch one or two that night.  So I was game. Now, when we got back to his house, I noticed he backed into the garage (as opposed to parking on the street). In my head I said “that’s an awfully permanent way to park” but whateves.  So, we go up to his apartment, go into the living room. Which was strangely bare and by that I mean, there was a couch, TV but really looked as if it was hardly ever used.   Now, we sit on the coach and …wait for it…low and behold, the DVD player in the living room didn’t work. But alas, all is not failed, he had a solution.  The DVD player in the bedroom worked….let’s watch movies in there. LOL.  And then it hit me.  Wait a minute? Was this the plan all along?

Now…

I know what y'all are saying….

Really Nik?

But I am telling you the God’s honest truth, it did NOT dawn on me until this very point that he had no intentions of watching a movie. Not in the movie watching sense that I meant.  I mean I REALLY wanted to watch a movie!  Who wouldn’t want to watch a movie??  I mean if you didn’t want to watch a movie, why say “let’s watch movies?”??  Was “let’s watch a movie” code for “come over my house so we can have sex?”  How off the mark is that? Movies=sex?? Where? Who? What? How? Huh?

Why the stress you ask? Various reasons 1) I had been abstinent for years and let’s be frank, we’re not 5 yrs old and this wasn’t planned as a normal sleepover. THAT I did know 2) I wasn’t prepared. (to sleepover that is lol) I’d been out all day and needed a fresh shower and fresh clothes 3) Really???? Like Really???

Anywho I didn’t know what to do.  I mean technically I got myself in this position…but how? And damn it. I knew better. Didn’t I??

So there I am. Me-on his couch.  He- in the bedroom. DVD player rollin…in the bedroom.  There’s about 20 secs of “Whachu gonna do girl? BBQ or mildew” moments here.  I panicked.  (And when I say panic I mean, hyperventilating.... yeah..it was bad…Michael Jackson bad.).  The walk back to the bedroom was like slowly walking the plank. 

Insert *long blinks here* say it with me AWKWARD!

It got worst…. I was stuck.  YES STUCK. Remember backing into the garage…the permanent parking. Ha! I was stuck there until the very next morning…9am to be exact. (yall saw that coming huh??)  I mean, who knew? *Nika shrug* clearly not I? 

I’ll leave this story here LOL I shan’t put the entire demise on the “innanets” and trust it was a “demise”. Demise, in a funny way, not a 911-scary way (don’t want yall to be concerned LOL)

Soooooooooo, the moral of this story is….When your back is against the wall .......and you're stuck between a rock and a hard place…hahahahahahaha okay okay there’s no moral. LOL

But the phrase that pays is: 

Be about that life.  If not, stay home.

The end.

Best Acquaintances...

“A blessed thing it is for any man or woman to have a friend, one human soul whom we can trust utterly, who knows the best and worst of us, and who loves us in spite of all our faults.” unknown

I have the uncanny ability to be friends with people, good friends with people and have them not know me AT all.  I’m amazed at how many people claim to know me, but really know nothing about me. Yeah sure, bits and pieces, but not the full story and when I think about it, I don’t really know them.  I mean how many people do you know, like KNOW through and through?  Not many right?  You just know what they’ve told you and from that you make an attempt to connect the dots. 

But how is it you can know some people for your entire life and still feel like they don’t know you? Do you have the right to call them your friend?  Or even sometimes your best friend?  Is this a trust issue? Like what does “friend” mean anyway? 

Really who knows you entirely?? Do you even fully know yourself?? I mean, it happens; shoot every now and then I surprise myself with a completely new side of me.  This month I’m just now realizing how reaaaaallly emotional I am.  Not just being a crier, (everyone knows I cry lol) but just how hypersensitive my feelings are.  It doesn’t take much to hurt them.  And aside from the obvious moments, it’s something I usually hide from most folks even myself.   So I guess if I’m still learning who I am… I can’t really expect people to know either LOL. 

I bring up this point because I don’t know if I use the term “friend” loosely or put entirely too much stock in it.  But I have friends that I’ve always considered friends and then when they “tell me about myself” I’m always confused with how off mark they are.

It makes me wonder if I’m projecting myself a certain way that’s not consistent with my personality.  Do I give entirely too much surface?  Do I shy away from being completely myself?  It’s not that I’m being phony because at the time I believe I’m being genuine but I guess I’m just not giving full disclosure or maybe I don’t fully let go of that control that we Leo’s like to have lol Who knows.  What I do know is if I want people to know who I am, I will have to show them the person that I am. Simply put huh?

Challenge:  Next week I will choose a friend to develop a closer/ more authentic friendship.  If you grapple with this too, I extend the challenge to you as well.  Why not grow deeper in your relationships? 

Till next week…Happy Friday y’all!

Ps…this blog is a bit too personal, next week I will revamp blog topics…<<<Wait, is that me floating back to the surface??? Ahahahahahaha! Damn.

Funny How Time Flies...

“Age is an issue of mind over matter.  If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter”  ~Mark Twain

Aging is a funny thing. As long as you’re alive, you’ll always get older it’s a given, yet we always fight it as if we have the ability to change it. *side eye* Like a few years ago, when my father turned 60, he refused to celebrate it with me.  And I mean REFUSED! Of course I forced him anyway. (Yall know I love birthdays! The minerva!!)  To be quite honest, I thought that was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard.  And to explain why he didn’t want to celebrate, he said something to me that will stick with me forever.  He said, “In my head I feel like I’m your age, but when I look in the mirror, I say damn, how did you get this old?” hahahahahahaha…I died (no really if you know my relationship with my father, yall know I was on the floor rolling around in dead laughter!)   I found that statement to be so funny because I’m like dude, you’re 60…you’ve had plenty of years to adjust to the concept? No? I mean does that thought like NEVER go away? Do you not adjust?

Anywho, if I’m honest I will have to admit there are days that I look in the mirror and I see that I’ve aged.  From the weight I’ve gained, to the gray hairs, to the way my face is framed…and I think, gosh…when did this happen.  I mean I turn 35 this year as many of my peers (blucka blucka <<my gun salute lol) and I find myself wondering where the heck did the time go?  Didn’t we just celebrate my 25^th the other day?   

Don’t get me wrong, although I am baffled at turning 35, I’m totally enjoying life and trust and believe I’m milking the hell out of it with intense fervor.  But I AM turning 35 and that alone gives cause to pause lol.  And as August creeps up I can’t help but to wonder, How did I get this old???

Ooooh the irony right? The same question…How-Did-I-Get-This-Old??? 

A Public Announcement

“This goes out to all my girls
That's in the club rocking the latest
Who will buy it for themselves and get more money later”

I have beef with people that assume they speak for all more specifically the over the top feminist.  You know the ones that tell us what’s right, what’s wrong i.e. women should be tired of being in the kitchen...etc.   Like I’m amazed at the side eyes I receive when I tell people I believe in male/female roles or the shade tossed my way when a woman says “I can do everything a man does and then some”, and my response is “…perhaps, but I’ll pass”.  Maybe I’m just not feminist enough. But quite frankly I don’t want to do it all.  Nope, not interested in cutting the yard, working on cars, taking out the trash…being man AND woman.  Now I’m not knocking those women who run around challenging all men.  More power to you! *bows head and gives dap* I, how-some-ever, will pass.

Seriously, am I the only one that think some feminist have taken it a taaaad far?  Hey man, to each it’s own.  You and your breeches, me and my pencil skirt. Everyone has choices.  You choose yours, but leave me out of it. LOL   I mean I’m listening Beyonce’s “Run the World” and I love it (now), buuuuuut…just a tiny itty bitty teeny weeny but…there’s that small percentage of woman that take this song to mean…. “eff men..we don’t need ‘em”….(uhhhh errrrr????)

I mean how many times have you heard a woman say “I’m good I don’t need a man” And maybe they’re focusing on the need part…I mean I guess aside from food, shelter, water...we don’t NEED anything.  But you best believe I want one.  No? Do I stand alone? 

Hmmmph, I drove from Chicago to New York recently…took me 4 days (unloading etc) to complete my move.  AND although at the end I popped my collar and knew I could always hold myself down…I’d be lying if I didn’t say about 6 hours in, I thought…damn, it be really great if I had a husband…boyfriend…boy-friend…random male stranger. LOLOLOL.  I mean who doesn’t want a partner? No? Now the driving part isn’t so gender specific (although I’m sure every man would probably disagree with me lol) but it was the project, the event, the moving, the loading, unloading, and then the LOOOONG ASS drive!  I don’t know…I’d classify it as manly in my book lol.

Now don’t get me wrong, for all of the feather rufflers out there, this does not mean that I’m saying that woman can’t do any and everything. I believe in equality for all.  If those are the things that you WANT to do, by all means get it poppin’

I’m all for girl power…we CAN run the world…*pumps fist in air*

But do not include me in that “man bashin’, I don’t need a man, I can do everything a man does” grouping.  K?

*steps up clears throat and says….*

“ummm …yeah….no

This single lady wants a man, acknowledges I can not do everything he does, and quite frankly don’t wanna. 

And if I had one, press believe he would have been driving that truck to New York.

Carry on.

Can We Talk?

"I don't know what I'd ever do without you
From the beginning to the end
You've always been here right beside me
So I'll call you my best friend"  

At one point in my life it seemed like everybody and I mean eveeeerybody and their mama (in my case father) were getting married. Now, at those times I wasn’t ready nor interested.  But it seemed as if I was going to 3 to 4 weddings a year.  I call those the wedding years.  Then soon after came the baby years.  3 to 4 baby showers a year, it was like nonstop torture (yall know I hate baby showers…and bridal showers for that matter too!)  I mean when I get married and/or have a kid, please miss me with that hat made of wrapping material.  And those games?! *vomits in mouth* Who came up with that!?!?!?! Seriously, a coed bbq with drinks and music, and on the side we’ll open gifts SANS oohs and aaahs.

 Sorry…I had a moment.

So after the baby years, came the second wave of weddings.  Yup…I missed that one too. That one I actually wanted…siiiiggghhhh it was a very very very delicate time in my life.  Anywho, sooo after the second wave of the weddings came….wait for it…. It should be the second wave of babies yeah? No.  The FIRST wave of divorces. Whaaaaa? Like whoa…there is a kink in the matrix…a snag in the pattern.  Divorces?

So naturally I’m like wait one minute.  People are divorcing and I haven’t even gotten married?! Like what part of the game is that? How did yall rob me of the 3^rd wave of weddings…I was a waiting, ready, and willing participant! No really. I was! All I was missing was the groom, but that’s a minor detail.  Alas however, since this post isn’t really about me (aren’t’ they AAAALL about me? Such the Leo) we won’t go there and will save that for another day.

What this post IS about is relationships.  What your partnership really means? What should it look like? What makes it last? Why aren’t they lasting? What went wrong in these relationships? Now I don’t have the answers to all of those questions, not even half…actually I should prob delete some, because I don’t really know the answers lol. 

But in the last month, I’ve had 2/3 people announce a separation or thoughts of separating to me.  And I wondered how did we get here?  Now I’ll admit.  I saw 2 of the 3 coming. I just did.  I sadly knew they were doomed from the beginning but prayed they would be able to work through it.  Isn’t that awful?  So, you wonder how did I know that it wouldn’t work?  They weren’t friends.  Oh, they were a lot of things.  Lovers, partners, husband and wife, parents, co-planners, etc.  And all of that sounds fine and dandy, but the bare bones of the situation was that they didn’t like each other….as friends.  And at the end of the day, that’s the part that counts, No?

Now, I know you’re asking yourself what do I know about that. I’ve been single since the beginning of time (hehe not really but sadly really) Here’s what I know about that.  I don’t want to vacation with someone I don’t like.  I don’t want to go to dinner with someone I don’t like. I don’t want to sit on the phone with someone I don’t like. Road trip. Ride the subway. Sit on the couch. You see where I’m going with this?  Now yes, "don’t like" doesn’t mean "hate".  But if you have committed…COMMITTED to a lifetime with a person…til death do you part…and you don’t like them…..I don’t need to finish the sentence for you to know that just sounds ridiculous.   

I mentioned earlier in the week on twitter, that a married friend of mine once told me “A lifetime is a long time to be with someone you don’t like” Truest words.  When I look at the relationships that I think are great benchmarks.  My sister’s marriage…the Jersey besties, they would all say their relationships aren’t perfect, they’ll admit that off the rip.  But what they WILL say is that they are friends. BEST FRIENDS. 

SO what does that mean? Besties?  I use my sister as an example. The woman drives me mad. We fight like cats and dogs.  Once we were playing taboo and the word was “Fight”.  And my brother-in-law gave the clue as “Something Maia and Nika do aaaalll the time” the whole room yelled: FIGHT! Ahahahahaha! But hands down my sister is my all time original best friend. Now how can we fight all the time and be best friends?  Well, I like her.  She’s funny. She gets me.  We have been in a knock out-drag out fight…and in the middle of it stopped so we can comment on something funny or afterwards pour a glass of wine and crack jokes.  When you’re friends like that, no matter how ugly it gets, your friendship will get you through it. Yes, she’s my blood and I have no choice but to have her in my life.  BUT if you’re committed in your marriage the same thing holds true, no?

So where am I going with this?  I’ve been very particular with the people I choose to deal with and no matter how bad I think I want a relationship, or be married or whatever, I will not sacrifice the friendship.  Some people delude themselves into thinking they can marry for convenience, for money, for resume, or for whatever reason they tell themselves and trust me there are some creative ones out there.  But simply put, if at the core of the relationship the friendship isn’t there. It won’t last.  That seemingly is proven. It’s unfortunately some of my girlfriends and guy friends are just finding that out now.

And the friendship is defined however you choose. For me since I’m a social person, we have to be able to go out and have fun.  Like if I’m with you and I don’t laugh until I cry.  Or we don’t go for drinks.  Or hang with our friends. Or go to concerts. We’re not friends. And I don’t mean boo’d up. (yall know that grosses me out sometimes) Like it’s established I’m your boo…we don’t need to be at the bar boo’d up. SPARE ME! Lolol The same thing I do with my girlfriends, I want to do with my man.  And if you don’t get smashed with your girlfriends you don’t have to get smashed with your man.  I, on the other hand….well, we won’t air out my vices. You get the point.

And hey listen, if you can’t do these things with him…then maybe…juuust maybe…quite possibly…he or she IS.NOT.THE.ONE.

The end.

The Trifecta

The Matrix:
Morpheus: You take the blue pill and the story ends. You wake in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill and you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes. Remember -- all I am offering is the truth, nothing more.

When I get up in the mornings and commute to work, one of two things can happen:

1)      I’ll either sit with my headphones on and attempt to find my happy place. 

Ohhhh you know the place, devoid of the stench, filthy rats, and deplorable bed bugs.  Oft it’s a place with fluffy bed covers, lots o’sunshine, plenty of men, and the slight aroma of french fries in the air (Hey man, no judging…I’m dieting…and well…. french fries IS my happy place there I said it..happy now?)

Or 2) I’ll stay in the present, and absorb in all of New York. And when I say all, I mean ALL.  From the shivering rat hovering in the corner on the train, the sanctified bible toting Holy Roller, to the homeless dude blowing kisses in the air.  I mean ALL of it.

Today I choose the latter.  Yes I know, a rarity, but even I take the red pill every now and then.  Anyway, as I was saying, I was sitting on the train taking it all in. You know the usual, assessing who’s who and what’s what…and if that “what” was sitting next to me.  You know what I mean? *goes to slaps hand*

So there was a strange feeling in the air.  Nope, wasn’t the smell of dirty trash or sour milk.  It was more like….the feeling of being settled…relaxed even. Yea, I know what you’re saying. This isn’t strange?  And my response: Au Contraire Mon Frere….

Lots o’ thangs live here in NYC…but relaxation ain’t one of them. Remember that kiddos. Stay on your toes ladies and gents…the tippy’s. TRUST!

Anywho, then later as I was running out at lunch to pick up a bottle of vino (don’t ask…you’re not ready for the answer)…. (and no it does not involve me sippin’ a nip at the job. Focus!) there it was again…that feeling. The strange one. *whispers settled*.  Yeah that’s the one.  This time it was wrapped up in the slight tinge of rotting trash, but I digress. 

So, then I thought…well, where is this feeling coming from? Those who know me, know I harbor a serious Love /Hate relationship with this city.  Some days more hate than love and vise versa. So Settled? Relaxed?…yeah, those things don’t live here. Nope Na uh..No Ma’am. No sir.

I mean come ooooon…. why do we  REALLY stay here? The pizza? Chicago’s is better.  (no shade)

The people?  More crazy than sane.

Broadway? Can’t remember the time I went to a show. 

The skyline? Can't see it past my high priced alley view.

I mean, my choices seem to be pay rent or go on vacation. Go on vacation, don’t pay rent. Pay Rent, no vacation for me. Who has to make those choices in other cities? Anybody? Anybody? Bueller?

So the only plausible reason is this:  The Trifecta.  Term coined by a dear friend of mine.  Her statement is there are three things people hope to find and/or struggle to have in this city:   a good man, good job, and a good apartment: The Trifecta.

You can get the apartment but still search for the job.  Get the job, but move yearly looking for the apartment. And the man? That deserves a post on it’s on….we’ll call that Mission impossible. Hell, it’s even all together possible you can spend a lifetime looking for just one…yes ONE item on the list.  And you know what? People happily stay here doing so.  Don’t ask me why? It’s like a sick secret society. We only acknowledge each other with grunts and eye rolls….you know you wanna join. lol

So back to the matter at hand, what does this have to do with me you ask?

Simple.

I have the apartment. Only two more left.  GAME ON BITCHES!

I WILL NOT LOSE!

Hello World!

My first blog: and seemingly nothing to say…although those who know me, know i have EVERYTHING to say  Let’s start by explaining why I’ve chosen to start a blog.  The short of the long is because I love to write.  Not just write to write, but write to tell stories.  What stories you may ask,?  The stories of my life. I’m an everyday average Jane, but I believe the stories that go on in my life, my head, and/or the randomness that happens to me is worthy to document.  Not that it may provide  or enhance your life any more than never hearing them, BUT so that they may help me (lol-yes, this blog is about me) write..no shame in my game in admitting that.  BUT hopefully somewhere along the line it can help you too…give you insight, help you grow, or at bare minimum give you a hearty chuckle.  So sit back relax…and enjoy my life, through my eyes..