Year 35: The Progressive Movement

“Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional” unknown

                                     

Okay so it’s not a big secret that I turned the big 3-5 this past weekend, lol partially because I don’t believe in keeping my birthday a secret! I mean I suppose out of respect for my grandmother (who believed no respectable woman should tell her age) I will eventually stop telling my age, but right now I’m 35 and proud of it! 

As a matter of fact, my birthday just so happens to be my favorite holiday of the year!!! Yes I said holiday! It truly is one in my mind.  To quote my dear friend Ant T…It’s called  "A Day". And I’ll take it a step further. “A week"… “A month".  Basically, it’s a celebration b*tches!!!!!!!!!!!!

No really.  I’ve always loved my birthday, and as I get older that love intensifies. I mean when I reflect on all of my peers who didn’t get to make it to 35, it’s just humbling.  To celebrate my birthday is to really truly appreciate the life God has given me.  So because of that, this weekend I found myself reflecting on me and my thoughts of getting older.   (Yes in New Orleans, I was thinking….alcohol can have that effect sometimes hehehe)

**Now y'all know, I grapple with getting too personal on this blog, but today I will make an exception just this one time ;-) ***

 Last year was a good year, but not an easy year.  Not only did I have family struggles and financial struggles, but I felt like I was emotionally unraveling.  Already an emotional and sensitive person, these “new” emotions were simply out of control.  Like has anyone ever felt like that?  Like things were spiraling out of control and all you could do was buckle in for the ride.  Yup, that was me.  An out of control, emotional broke mess. 

You know, my mind is a different entity.  It has a complete operating system of its own.  Sometimes it can create scenarios, situations, and emotions all on its own accord.  You see I’m an over thinker, yup, a classic Leo trait, and everything, anything, or nothing at all can send me on an emotional roller coaster.  It’s a side of me that up until recently I completely despised.  I say up until recently, because I only just decided to embrace it.  I’m over taking parts of myself and picking them apart and making them the enemy.  They’re great all on their on…favorable AND not so favorable traits.  Right? But hell why stop there?  This weekend I mentally created a list of things I learned about myself at 34, that I will stay mindful of at 35.  Because you know what, no matter how hard things seemed, how bad you think they were, how shady you think you’re hand was dealt, things could have certainly been worse.  And there is a lesson in everything. EVERYTHING.  It’s really all about perspective right?  So here’s my list of 34 things I learned at 34.  Feel free to add to the list in the comments. 

34 Things I Learned At 34:

1. I’ve been tremendously blessed, even if the blessing comes by way of an unrecognizable vehicle.
2. No matter how hard things may seem they can always be worse, as a matter fact. I’ve seen them get worse yet understand that it can get worse than that.
3. I’m stronger and more resourceful than what I realize.
4. Although I don’t have everything I want, I most certainly have everything I need.
5. I’ll never let anyone or anything make me feel less than or not worthy.
6. Although I hold on to these extra 30 pounds like a security blanket, that doesn’t make me any less beautiful than when I was without the extra layer ;-)
7. Beauty REALLY is more than appearance
8. Settling for mediocrity gets you nowhere.
9. To get different results you really have to shake things up.
10. And although after shaking things up I still didn’t get the results I wanted, at least I wasn’t in the same place I was a year ago.
11. Progress really is a good thing. Stop looking for the final answer, just enjoy the progress.
12. If I don’t truly love myself, how can I expect others to, and more importantly how I will I be able to ascertain when others do. 
13. Comparing myself to others is absolutely ridiculous and will get me no where.  Especially since blessings are individually tailored.
14. Nothing is more important than being true to you.
15. I should always try to be a really great and genuine friend, but yet recognize that still means I won’t be the perfect friend.
16. I am flawed, and it’s okay to accept that. 
17. No matter how hard I like someone, a relationship that don’t make.
18. And just because they don’t equally feel the same, that’s ok.  Some people like pineapples, some people don’t…that doesn’t make pineapples less tasty.
19. Sometimes it’s all about the recovery not necessarily the fall or what caused the fall.
20. Not everything has to be internalized.  You should leave some things right where they are.
21. People are more enticed by a genuine me than a manufactured me.
22. Not everyone is supposed to “get” me and its okay. I’m unique. I’m not for everyone.
23. Happiness is a state of mind not to be influenced by external factors
24. You can’t make anybody like you. Either they do or they don’t.
25. I shouldn’t have to convince you to like me. Either you do or your don’t
26. Number 26 is completely different from 25
27. Don’t confuse being alone with being lonely. Being alone has its benefits.
28. I’m emotional and I won’t make excuses for it.
29. As a matter of fact, I won’t make ANY excuses for who I am, make the effort to get to know me or keep it moving.
30. Some shit just isn’t that hard.
31. Although my biological clock is ticking, I won’t let desperation make decisions for me. I’ll wait for the right one at the right time.
32. Not everyone will celebrate you, with you, or for you….so what who cares, celebrate yourself and by yourself. One monkey don’t stop no show.
33. People come into your life and leave your life for many reasons, I’ve learned when to accept them and when to let them go.
34. I will set my own standard of beauty.

What are yours?

The Curious Case of the Habitual Home girl

“You know we all lookin’ for wifey material,  a woman that’s fine, smart, classy but not a snob.  Hella hella sexy but not a hoe, that’s brown sugar” Brown Sugar

***First let me say, I’ve been slow blogging because I was trying to find topics to blog that weren’t so…well…personal.  But eff it.  My blog..my life…shit’s personal.  Enjoy. LOL***

So there’s no secret I really love the movies “Just Wright” and “Brown Sugar”.  Not because they’re beautifully written or because of the stellar acting *side eye* I just really love the story lines.  Yes, Yes sappy as it may be….they have the potential to be beautiful love stories, you know once you get over the acting…the over acting…the…lack. of. acting.  Anywho, never mind that, the point is, I can relate to the story of the main characters.

Okay let me back up, here’s a little unknown/known fact about me: I’m a guy’s girl (and a girl’s girl, don’t want yall to think I’m that chick lol). But it’s a role I love and quite frankly revel in BUT it comes with very specific downfalls.  Quite frankly to be honest that shit doesn’t always work to your benefit.

I mean, let’s be real, personality wise, I’m cool as a fan.  I’m laid back (for the most part, I mean I have my hint of crazy like every chick, but that’s another post for another day).  I love to hang out. I’m from Cleveland, so you know I can drink with the best of them.  I don’t have an issue with strip clubs, so I’ve found myself at some Miami’s finest (I mean as fine as hood clubs can be). I like football. I love hip hop. I love hood music and can have a conversation about it.

Now, sounds good right?  That would be a negative.

Why is that?  I mean shouldn’t that be like my “dating resume”? Like who wouldn’t want to date a girl like me? The perfect girlfriend right?

Correction:  THE PERFECT HOMIE! Or and this is a direct quote “THE PERFECT HOMEGIRL”

Somewhere there is a fine line…and I have crossed it.  And trust there are some days that I say eff it.  I am who I am and one day someone will view this as an asset.  Buuuuut there are some days that I tell myself  “I have to break out of this box.” 

I can’t be stuck in the “homegirl box” forever.  I mean really? I poo poo on that box. EFF that box. That box can kick rocks. I’m bigger than that box…..sorry…I went on a tangent.  But just so you know, I’m real passionate about that mofo box.

So what’s the alternative?  Because I’ve been given tons of “sage” advice on how to break out of being the “home girl”.…from getting contacts, to wearing heels (daily), to wearing makeup, annnnd even once someone told me to be more dainty and light (like what the hell does that mean???? Oh not like that huh? lol)

Assuming it’s a bad thing, you know being the “homegirl’, how do you not be or become the home girl?  The reason I say “assuming” is that I personally thought being the “homegirl” was a good thing.  But then again I would.  I.AM.THE.HOME GIRL LOLOL  <<I crack myself up sometimes. 

But really? Let’s just entertain this for a bit. Am I delusional to thinking most men would want to be homies with their girlfriends? Is that a wild assumption to make?  Do they only want to be “boyfriends”? Where’s the fun in that?  Yall know my views on being besties with the one you love.  So……what makes a girl the perfect home girl and not the perfect girlfriend?

Maybe it’s the flirt to hang ratio?  Like maybe I hang more than I flirt so therefore there’s room to be ambiguous.  Perhaps I should up the flirt, and less the hang?  More giggle and less guffaw?  More sipping less guzzling?  More arm strokes and less high fives?  More elusiveness and less transparency?

Yeah. That’s it perhaps my ratios are off.  Perhaps...

But excuse me if I say, none of that sounds fun.  Don’t get me wrong, I flirt in my own way (which I guess if no one gets it, it should probably  be re-evaluated hahahaha)  but I just have a hard time not being real-in every regard.  AND I refuse to put on airs…often times all I really want to do is just have a good time anyway.  You see, I’m more of a “let’s just hang and kick it” kind of girl.  And when it’s all said and done, I guess I’ll just have to find a guy to match that. 

Yeah that’s it.  Efff it.  You know what, I’ll just take that home girl title and hold it AND own it.  Someone will appreciate it. I’m certain of that.

Right? Right? Riggggghhhhht? Right.

Once Upon A Time...

....In a land full of grit and dirt...there were two enemies preparing for a stand off.  Unbeknownst to the pure one on the side of good, she was soon to have an encounter with darkness.  Pay close attention:

It was a shortly after 6:30, the clouds were rolling in and being that I left my umbrella at home, I was in a rush to beat the storm.  I had just switched from the 1 train to the 2 train.  I jumped on the train, I scanned, assessed, and found a seat (proper protocol procedures) Now, during my exploration I noticed a seat…in the corner.  Now normally a girl like me avoids these corner seats by all means necessary!  I call them love seats.  They're small and crammed and since I firmly, firmly believe that those seats are reserved as a sacred nesting place for dirt, filth, and all things gritty, I stay far far far far faaaaar away.  BUT again, its rush hour, a person just got up and so I sat.  Priorities! And my feet were screaming “give us, us free” but I digress.

But just like Murphy ’s Law says…anything that can go wrong will INDEED go wrong.

Picture this (a dramatic reenactment):

*CUE HOMELESS DRUNK*

“ATTENTION EVERYBODY….Can youuuusssss help a brother out”

I look up, slightly annoyed, barely paying attention and something caught my eye…Wait, what is that I see…is that a…

*Turns directly to me* “A QUARTER WILL DO...”

And in all of my horror…it happened!

They shot in the air…one by one like pellets of poison. Each one on a mission… scattering in the wind searching for their prey. Using their ability to fragment, to distract and disarm me.  Touching my delicate skin with a fire like burn of the sting of a bee.

What you ask? SPIT! Oh yes…spit…out of his mouth. His very own M.O.U.T.H.

I Gasped.

I screamed

I yelled out

I grab my things..

OH   MY   GOD!

He’s startled. He looks appalled that I’m appalled. He mumbles a sorry and scurries in to the sea of people.

Me, I’m hysterical.  I’m certain my heart skipped several beats leaving me woozy.  My mind starts racing. Where did it land? There were so many of them. What shall I quarantine?  Is it in my purse? My wrap? My…my…dear God, sweet Jesus….not. near. my. FACE. 

I look around, trying to connect with the people around me.  I want to ask them. Did you see it? Where did it go???? Do you know???

I’m almost hyperventilating. This can’t be happening, can it?  I look to my left and my seat partner is staring at me. She feels me...I think?  Her eyes says she understands. But does she??

At this point I’m in autopilot.  Mouth: clamps shut (you know to seal all entry) Hands: frantically searching for something…anything to wipe and disinfect.  Eyes: near tears  Legs: ready to run Heart: soon to explode

In my search, I find a receipt.  I grab it I use it to wipe my arm, my hand, my bag in a frenzy. I’m frazzled. Dazed even.

Now, have you ever had something traumatic happen to you that make people nearby take pity? Like in their eyes you can tell they’re relieved it wasn't them, but feel really sorry for you?  That was my seat mate. She gently reached in her bag and pulled out the holiest holy of grails (lol)…..hand sanitizer *cue the sounds of the pearly gates*.  And then watched me bathe from head to toe in it.  Hey man, it's not a game out there...

In fact, It’s me against them.  I’m certain of that now. There’s nothing that can tell me otherwise.  Them...me…we. are. archenemies.  They’re out for my demise…and with people like that around you…nothing. You hear me…nothing good can come from that.  It was only a matter of time before we crossed paths.

  

Let me tell you my friends today was an assault of epic proportions. Yes, worst than the time that saxophone player shot spit on my arm…worse than the crazy threatening to kick my ass…and yes worse than the time I slipped and my hand touched the ground.  Epic I tell you.  We need to spread the word fast…so that others will never ever have to go through what I went through. Listen to me carefully and please TAKE HEED…

FUCK THOSE CORNER SEATS!

CRAZIES: 1 Nika: 0

They’re killin’ me out here yall…killin’ me…

*fades to black*

Got me worried, stressin, my vision's blurried
The question is will I live? No one in the world loves me
I'm headed for danger, don't trust strangers

                                                                                      Tupac

  

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???