Emotional Baggage Sundays: The Ex-Factor

As my body struggles to recover from processing last nights' libations, my mind starts creeping off into dark and disused corners, nosing around where it doesn't belong.... yes, it starts poking around in the Emotional Baggage.

Let me pause and explain what Emotional Baggage means to me. Emotional Baggage is the stuff I pack up and store away in the attic of my brain. It's like the old toys you don't play with anymore that sit in your mom's basement, packed up, abandoned and forgotten (for the most part). I don't carry around my Emotional Baggage.... I listened to Erykah when she told me to put that ish down or I'd miss my bus ("You can't hurry up, cuz you got too much stuff....."). But some days, like today, some of that baggage falls out the attic, down the stairs and bonks me on the head..... usually when I'm feeling physically and/or emotionally crappy (e.g. when I'm hungover).

So what brought about today's Emotional Baggage moment? Ok, so I was admittedly doing a little e-stalking (yes, we all do it... you know you sometimes take a gander at an ex's Facebook/MySpace/Twitter page)..... ok, so I wouldn't even call it STALKING, just masochistic curious peeking via Twitter (Twitter.... the newest place for sneaky peeky spying) and noticed in his photo that he had on a piece of jewelry that looked very similar to a piece I'd given him as a gift. I knew at some point he'd broken it, so that had me wondering if he'd actually cared enough to get it fixed or was this just something new to take its place? I allowed myself to ponder this for a little while, allowed my mind to poke through the old Emotional Baggage trunks, then closed it up again and shoved it back into the attic.

This made me think about last weekend when I was out with my beau and his roomie at our usual spot, and I had an Ex Encounter with this individual. I thought I was cool about it.... we didn't even exchange any words.... but on the ride home I was told that it was apparent that the situation bothered me. Which, if I'm really honest with myself, it did..... but more so because I don't like being on bad terms with people even if I never interact with them anymore.... I'd rather just be at peace with the person and we each go on about our respective lives without wishing ill on each other. Unfortunately, I'm not good at masking my emotions (even though I'm simultaneously good at masking what's on my mind) so he was able to pick up on it. Then he asked me the question whose philosophical implications have been the crux of my EBS ruminations for the day: So do you still have feelings for this dude?

Honest answer: Yes.

But that's not the end of discussion. The real question for me is: But what does that really MEAN?

Honest to blog answer: Not a damn thing.

First of all, what are we really talking about when we use the word "feelings"? Yes, I still care about this person as a human being. But do I want or feel the need to be with him? No. It's more of a benevolent feeling as opposed to a longing one. So my "feelings" for this person don't mean that I wish our "relationship" (or whatever it was) would resume. I know it's over and done. It's just a fact of life that relationships end, and they don't always end because the individuals involved don't care about each other.... it takes more than love to make a relationship work. And just because a relationship ends doesn't mean the associated feelings simultaneously end. Even when a relationship ends in a fiery inferno of hatred badly, there are often some form of lingering feelings there (because the opposite of love is NOT hate.... it's indifference). So where does this leave you when you decide to move on? Are we supposed to wait until the feelings for the old person have fully dissipated before doing so? My stance on this is no, we should not. Of course, there's some level of healing that must occur.... if you're still reading old e-mails daily, habitually gazing at old pictures, hitting them up for booty calls and CONSTANTLY thinking about the person every single day, then yea, maybe it's best to wait and let your heart recover a bit. But if you know in your heart of hearts that it's over and done, then I don't think we should be required to be held hostage to old feelings and be required to put life on hold until those feelings for that person are 100% gone. So long as we are not acting upon those feelings, I think people should be given a little leeway in this department. We're human after all. "Feelings are not supposed to be logical. Dangerous is the man who has rationalized his emotions."-- David Borenstein. I don't see myself as holding on to the past, but rather acknowledging and respecting it's existence and it's role, but I also permit myself to move on and seek my happiness.

Eartha Kitt: The Ultimate Sex Kitten

Another one of my idols, Eartha Kitt, has died at the age of 81 on Christmas Day. Since I did a tribute post to the late great Bettie Page, I would be remiss if I didn't do one about the quintessential sex-kitten as well.

To me, Eartha wasn't one of those traditionally "beautiful" women, but it was all about the pure, raw, organic sex appeal that she put forth. How many guys out there really weren't mad at Eddie Murphy in Boomerang when he responded to the calls of "Maaaarcus, daaaahhhling....."?



Eartha was a woman who just oozed sex appeal..... the ultimate sex kitten. As my friend would say, Eartha had some serious mojo going on..... at EVERY age.

Eartha had such a distinctive sound and look that I just loved. You can instantly recogize her voice.......even watching cartoons with the kids, I recognized her as the voice in "The Emperor's New School" as the voice of the villaness Izma. And I'm sorry, but Michelle Phifer had NOTHING on Eartha's Catwoman.

Meow!

I'll leave you with one of my favorite Eartha Kitt songs (I think her rendition of Santa Baby is still my favorite) that sums up that demure naughtiness that appealed to me so:

RIP, Eartha.

Predictions of Change: Part Deux

There been times that I thought I couldn't last for long
But now I think I'm able to carry on
It's been a long, a long time coming
But I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will.

~Sam Cooke, "A Change is Gonna Come"

I quoted this song lyric in a blog post I wrote back on Wednesday, April 25th, 2007 in my old MySpace blog (and later republished on AID under "Predictions of Change (kind of eerie)") no less than 3 DAYS before the excrement hit the air conditioning and it was curtains for my marriage. I go back and read that and it kind of creeps me out.....Intuition is a powerful, powerful thing, loved ones.

Back in April 2007, I didn't know WHAT was coming. I didn't know in 3 days I'd be separated and on the road toward divorce; I didn't know that my career would take a serious nosedive (though I'm not going to say it ever crashed.... just was in a low altitude holding pattern for awhile) and in 8 month I would no longer be employed full time, didn't know I'd get to the point where I had to pawn old jewelry for gas money, and all the other bad things that I've recounted in this blog.

But here are other things that I didn't know were coming as well..... I didn't know I would meet such great people who have helped me get through everything and have held me down when I needed it most..... sometimes financially, but mostly emotionally. I didn't know that after hitting rock bottom, I'd emerge from the wreckage with the tools I needed to change my outlook on life. I didn't know that I would radically change my coping skills and become a much more positive and patient person. I didn't know that I would learn that I don't need as much stuff as I think and that I'd realize how much wasteful spending I was doing. I didn't know I would realize how to stand on my own two feet.

Well, a change for the better is finally coming, loved ones. I met with my future boss to talk details about the position at the firm that I will be working at starting in January. I'd just come from my $10/hr temp job feeling really beat down and loser-ish. I'd been talking to the folks at this firm since June... yes, JUNE.... about a position with them, but there had never been any talk about how much I would make there. I had mentally prepared myself for a serious pay cut since I was coming from a firm of 250+ attorneys and would be going to one of less than 10.

So I sit down and we exchange pleasantries, and then he puts the numbers out on the table. The best way to describe my reaction would be that it was very similar to what happens when a program stops responding in Windows Vista, and the screen kind of grays out a little and the "Not Responding" message comes up..... yea, that's what happened to me for about 30 seconds as he continued to talk. I'm not going to put all my business out there like that, but let's just say it is a SIGNIFICANT increase from what I was making at my old firm (like an 18% increase). And not only that, but my billable hour requirement will be LESS than what it was at my old firm. And not only that, but the firm is minority owned (but still diverse). And best of all, I really do feel like I'm going to be at a place where my contributions and intellect will be respected and appreciated.

I always say that everything happens for a reason and everything in the universe works out the way it is supposed to, and I'm so happy to see my mantra in action. Exactly a year ago I decided to leave my big firm, six figure job and step out on faith and a whim, because I knew I needed some change. This past year has been filled with ups and downs (mostly downs), stops and starts, lots of closed doors and false hopes. Yes, the negative things did upset me, but I never let them bring me all the way down because I knew that things would work out the way they are supposed to. Every time I got a "thanks but no thanks" letter, or no call back, or no response, I'd say a prayer: "God, please place me where I need to be." And when I'd get those rejections, I'd think "That must not be where I was supposed to be."

I'm not an overly religious person..... in fact, me and organized religion are quite at odds with each other. But I am a spiritual person who believes in God, and I believe that God is everywhere and in everything nudging and influencing the moving parts of life. One of my favorite books that truly had an impact on how I view life is Paul Coelho's "The Alchemist", and the main premise of the book is that the Universe consipires to help us reach our destiny (please read it, loved ones). This past year has really taught me to be patient and let God move those pieces, even when I couldn't see them moving. I'm just in awe sometimes when I think about how everyting fits and flows together, things you wouldn't even think have an impact, not only in your life but in others' lives. It's really too much to go into here, but just know that everything-- good and bad-- truly does happen for a reason, even if you don't see that reason for years to come, and maybe not even in your own life. But it all works out the way it is supposed to, loved ones.... it truly does.

The Notorious Bettie Page

Pin-up legend Bettie Page died today at the age of 85.... I'm so sad. Anyone who knows me knows that I LOVE BETTIE PAGE!!! She's my idol. My fetish for hosiery, garters, corsets, bondage, spanking, and anything pin-up comes directly from this woman.

(check out those cuban heel back seam thigh high stockings....oooooooooh, makes me feel all tingly)


The first time I saw a picture of Bettie Page I had to have been 12 or 13.... it was in a store that's no longer around, Artsy Phartzy, and there was a Bettie Page t-shirt displayed on the wall. I didn't know who or what the heck she was, but I knew right then and there that I liked it. It's odd that I remember such a thing, because I have the memory of a goldfish.... that shows you how much of an impression this woman made on me. Needless to say, she has had influence in my life for some time now.


I just love Bettie's combination of naughty and nice.... in some of her photos she looks sweet and innocent, and in others she looks like she'll make you sorry you didn't finish all your brussel sprouts (or perhaps glad that you didn't).





















To me, Bettie represents the freedom of the inner self..... that bad girl in all of us. Bettie was the epitome of sexy, the embodiment of fantasy..... the quintessential pin-up.

RIP, Bettie.

In Her Shoes

So I had my appointment with my "new" loctician (who BTW I really liked and did a great job cutting my hair.... got about 3-4" lopped off but I think it's still plenty long.... seems to be more of a surprise to other folks more than it is to me, maybe because I rarely saw the back of my own head......). On my way to my appointment, I had a conversation with a friend of mine (my personal Zen Master of sorts) who was basically telling me that I need to suck it up, take the L, and let the whole loctician situation go. *deep heavy sigh* I asked for his reaction to my blog post from yesterday, and here's the edited, abridged, and redacted version of our conversation:

********************

Me: Thoughts?
ZM: i know it sucks to lose something valuable to you in this. *here comes the but*
ZM: but you don't know where this woman is in the healing process and thru this entire thing she has had zero leverage. she was the one who was hurt that had no control over the situation. so now she does and i gotta understand her desire to not give that up for you. I'm sure you know the second part...but the first part is the most important.
ZM: you've never been dumped even. i was the same way as you once until my heart was truly crushed and it took over two years to get over it...and it was not by _______
ZM: when it was hurt like that i felt to stupid for not understanding ________ and how she acted during our breakup.
ZM: so stupid
ZM: hopefully u will never know that type of pain luv....but if you ever do you will look back on his blog differently guaranteed

Me: I'm zealously advocating for myself here
Me: Maybe I'm mad cuz __________ is making ME out to be the petty one
ZM: i would not call it petty. i would say you don't know how she feels. u can't. therefore you can't be totally held liable for not being able to be in her shoes. if you had, you would not even be able to be upset at the situation.

Me: And can I say that I have been hurt in all this, so don't I get some leeway to be an irrational bitch, too?
ZM: .....you can always be irrational and act out if you like
Me: LOL
ZM: you can be selfish or evil or anything else you like if you want too.
Me: :(
ZM: I'm not saying you are
ZM: I'm saying you can
ZM: its your right. its like when white people get indignant about how "black get stuff for free". if they were black and truly "got it" then they wouldn't see that way
ZM: they have always been white. the majority. they don't realize the everyday subliminal benefits
ZM: its the same in this case
ZM: you are upset because you have never had to process that type of pain
ZM: if you would then you would get it and just accept it as part of life. you would not have anything to be upset about.

ZM: so hopefully you never will get it...but trust me on this. you don't understand where she is in the healing process
ZM: btw...you are still my friend and I'll support any rant you are on based off that alone. :)
Me: I fully understand what you are saying
Me: And that's why I started off that post on the subject of Karma
Me: And took the approach I did
Me: **long sigh**
Me: I wrote a post a few months ago about heartbreak
Me: And how it's the 1st time I've dealt with it
Me: Its not the same, I know
Me: But it was a nice lil portion
ZM: yeah i know. I'm not saying you don't know heartbreak
ZM: i know u do

Me: Guess I just gotta wait til the Universe is done fuckin with me on this one
Me: That's why I'm not big on revenge, cuz the Universe rights itself
ZM: u said it best in your other blog. sometime a person thinks they been thru it but its plain to anyone that has been thru it that the other has not. so how u feel is totally normal based on your level of past hurt
ZM: lol...and the universe does right itself

*********************

I mean, what can I really say to that?? As much as it is causing deep, painful visceral reactions in the core of my being, I have to say...... he's right. *recovers from violent convulsions* A good attorney not only knows and understands her own argument, but the other side's as well.... just as well, if not better than, her own. And my friend gave me a fairly compelling argument for the other side today. I'm not even going to expound on it because I think his words summed it up pretty well.

(Sidenote: I really appreciate friends who have the cajones to disagree with you and tell you when you're wrong, and tell you what they know you don't want to hear. Anybody can tell you want they think you want to hear. I believe that real friends will tell you when you're right AND when you're wrong.)

I have to finish processing all this..... I have a lot of conflicting thoughts that are swirling around dredging up old shyt that I've done my best to settle, and creating a big ole pot of Rage Soup that's threatening to boil over and burn up everything in its path (I actually wrote a bunch of other shyt, took it out, put it back, and then took it out again.... don't worry, loved ones, I have it saved for another day). But for now I'm just going to woo sah this out, bring myself back to the present moment, and enjoy my new haircut.

Again, to be continued......

Please, Karma, not my hair.....

If there is one lesson I have learned in the last year and a half of my adventures in divorce, it is this: Karma is a hellafide bitch. And just when you think she's done with you, here she comes from around the corner again with her rusty fork to jab you in the arse a few more times. Karma doesn't just come at you in the direct, obvious forms.... oh no, she's much craftier than that. Like the obvious consequence of my... uh.... indiscretions wasn't just my dramatical divorce, my emotional break down, and the major upheaval of my life in general. Oh no.... she keeps coming at me in new and exciting ways that I'd never imagined! And the newest incarnation of Karma's wrath is to fuck with........

.......My Hair.

Yes, loved ones, Karma has made it such that my hair stylist of 8 years may no longer accessible to me. The only man I have ever felt 100% comfortable doing my hair, both before and after I started my locs. The man who is THE MAN when it comes to locs. The man responsible for folks coming up to me saying "Hey, you look really familiar" because I used to do modeling for him and was all over his marketing materials and business cards. The man whom I can go to, sit in his chair, say "I'm not really sure what I want" and he gives me exactly what I want. The man responsible for doing my hair and photos featured in this video.

I know this seems really odd and random, but it's directly related to my.... uh.... indiscretions. Recently my loctician changed shops.... he was previously at an otherwise all white salon and was the only black stylist in the shop. He had his own private room, nice and spacious, where we could chat and listen to music and carry on as we do. So last month he moved to an all black salon that specializes in natural hair. I actually had my son's locs started there and had been there at least once myself. So what's the problem, you ask? Well, a few years ago the shop changed ownership, and is now owned by...... can you guess? *waits 5 seconds for you to guess* That's right, my.... uh..... "co-conspirator's" wife. *long Napoleonic Dynamite sigh* Needless to say, she told my loctician that I am banned from coming into the shop. My stylist said he was going to talk to her about it (because I am his client, not the shop's, and I've been his client for 8 years, and he said he really didn't give a flying fig what went on in other people's personal lives, and it was all just business), but as of yet, I haven't heard back from him, which means I can only assume that this is still a yet unresolved issue between him and "management".

Now, I understand that I we did a bad thing. I know this. And I know people were hurt by it. And I've paid for it 10 times over (thus the reason this blog is even in existence). But all I want is to be able to go to my hair stylist. Period. That's it. This is not a situation where I'm trying to get into her shop just to fuck with her.... I don't want to see her any more than she wants to see me. I have MAD HISTORY with my hair stylist so it has nothing to do with her, her husband, or her shop. I tell people all the time that my loctician (and also my nail tech) could set up shop in a crack house and I would be there kicking glass pipes aside to sit in his chair. And I'm sure 99% of his other clients feel the same way.

(*Sick and ironic side note: The building where the salon is located is also the building in which I got married in 1999. It used to be a wedding chapel until there was a fire in the building, which someone else bought and turned into a hair salon. I stood right on the bricks in front of the picture window in the front and said my "I do's" almost 10 years ago. Fate is a cruel and evil bitch sometimes, too.)

I can understand that she hates my guts and wishes for the cessation of my very existence doesn't like me. But dammit, this is business. Personally, nothing would please me more than to take the hard earned money of my arch nemesis. But perhaps being the top undergraduate business student in my class and being an overly analytical lawyer has my brain wired differently. I dunno. She works a 9 to 5, so I know there are plenty of times when she's not there when I could come in for 2 hours, 3 or 4 times a year and get my hair done and be on about my merry way. Like my BFF in London says, it's not like I'm asking to come to their house for tea and crumpets. And perhaps I could accept and understand this a little better if not for the fact that just a few months ago she was sending me e-mail invites to events at her shop (which I politely declined) and sending me (and directly to me personally.... not a mass distribution) natural hair surveys asking that I forward them on to my network (which I politely did). Which then raises the question..... who is really being petty, and who is trying to fuck with who here?? Even throughout all this mess, all this drama, I've always respected her business and have had nothing but positive things to say about her shop. Whenever people ask me for referrals for non-loc natural hair services, I ALWAYS refer them to that shop. I have a greater purpose in mind, and that is to encourage black women to embrace their natural hair, and part of that is having access to people who can help them with that, regardless of my personal history or feelings with anyone. *refrains from fully stepping onto natural hair soap box*

So, because it's come down to the last minute and I really need to get my hair done for my beau's company holiday dinner on Thursday, I went ahead and sucked it up and called my loctician's former assistant/apprentice who is still doing locs at their prior location (she stayed behind and is doing her own thing). I'm hoping that this isn't a permanent switch for me (though I am fully confident in her abilities as a stylist and have heard good things about her) but rather a temporary fix to get me over this hump while I resolve these issues with my loctician. I don't want to have to take my business elsewhere over all this, because I really don't think it's necessary, but if I have to I guess I will..... and all my other friends' and associates' business with me. But I will always and forever give my loctician credit as being the baddest loc artist on BOTH sides of the Mississippi, and on either side of the Pond as well, and none of this mess will affect my respect and admiration of him as an artist and business professional.


(I could be a helluva lot more malicious and petty in reaction to this right about now..... because really I am still VERY upset about the situation for a number of reasons I'm not going to go into here and now, and I AM still a female (and you know how the saying goes, "Hell hath no fury........"). But for now, I'm going to be the bigger person, as I really try to be, even when it is to my detriment and I have no reason to be but for the sake of principle. We'll see how this unfolds, though..... we shall see, loved ones.)

To be continued......

My son doesn't have WHAT???

I am so livid right now.... I just talked to Son, and my mommy sense was telling me something was wrong. Turns out he has been sleeping on the FLOOR at The Ex's "girl"friend's house for the past several MONTHS!!! WTF??? This woman is 42 years old, supposedly a "pillar of the community" (let him tell it) who is oh so concerned about children (she's the director a community center for fuck sake!!) and she can't even make accommodations for my son to have a bed. I know that she's only been a mother for a few years now (since she adopted a half-grown child and doesn't have any biological kids of her own) but she should at least realize that a child has BASIC NEEDS, even if my dumb ass Ex doesn't realize it.

I called The Ex right away about it, and all I got was him telling me that son WANTED to sleep on the floor, a hang up, and then texts asking if I'm drunk. NO MUTHAFUCKER I'M A PISSED OFF MOTHER CONCERNED ABOUT HER FIRST BORN CHILD'S WELL BEING!!! This is absolutely disgusting and inexcusable. And the thing that makes me even angrier is that I KNOW he's going to go back and yell at my son for telling me. And folks wonder why I got divorced?? You see what kind of dumb ass I was married to???? And what's more fucked up is that I got berated mercilessly when I moved into my apartment and my son had to sleep on an air mattress for 2 months until I could afford to buy him a new bed because I LEFT my son's old bed supposedly so The Ex could have it for my kids to have something to sleep on!! But of course, he left it in the house, just like he left everything else in the house, because he was too lazy and bitchassed to go back in there and get the rest of the stuff that I left for HIM.

Oooooooooh I am so mad right now!! And it hurts because I feel like there's nothing I can do about it. I think I'm going to send Son home on Sunday with the air mattress that I still have around here. At least that's something until those bastards take their heads out each other's asses and get my son a bed.

I just wish I could bring my baby home......

It may not be right, but it's real

"Cause to me, it's, there's nothing that's personal and private, it's all universal. There's no experience that I have ever had that's unique. And the fact that there is just certain stuff that we share but don't admit to and don't talk about. You know, what is that about?”
~Ani Difranco

I talk about a lot of scandalous controversial topics here on my blog. And I try my best to keep it 95.7% real (as I promised, the good, the bad and the ugly). My goal is to share my experiences so that maybe someone else out there can learn from my mistakes or just see that they are not alone out there when it comes to topics that most people don't have the courage to talk about.

I'm really getting weary with folks out here in the blogosphere with holier-than-thou attitudes who act like they have this life thing all figured out (in their mid-20's no less....GTFOHWTBS), and sit parked behind their laptops in the safety of anonymity spitting out their unseasoned advice to the rest of the world wide interweb. I know.... that's just people. But life is a lot simpler when you're not the one living it.

I try not to take that approach to people and their life situations. We all fuck up. We all do dumb things. And sometimes it is just helpful for one person to say to you "You know what, I've been there, too" just to make you feel a little less lonely so you have the courage take off that cloak of shame and make some life changes. Empathy is NOT the same as condoning. Let me stress that again in other terms: Just because I can see your perspective doesn't mean I'm cosigning on it, and just because I've been through it myself doesn't mean I think it's justified or right. The difference between me and these other self-righteous judgmental boobs folks is that I'll admit that I fucked up, that I'm human, and that we all have the potential to fuck up. I'm not saying it's right, I'm not saying it's ok, but I'm just saying that it just IS.

I don't have all the answers.... I don't pretend to have all the answers. All I have is what I've been through and what I've learned, and I'm willing to share what I've learned. There are enough people and things in this world to make us feel bad about ourselves.... I'm just saying that I've decided that I'm not going to be one of them.

"I have learned throughout my life as a composer chiefly through my mistakes and pursuits of false assumptions, not by my exposure to founts of wisdom and knowledge."
-- Igor Stravinsky

Don't try and get it just cuz I got it

I have 3 words for you, loved ones: B!tches ain't sh*t. My apologies for my use of such a patently derogatory phrase.... but you all know that at least for some females in some situations, it's true. The situation that is my current frame of reference is one we have all observed and/or acted in accordance with, and that is the phenomenon of not wanting someone until someone else has them. I don't know why people-- both men and women-- are wired this way, but we just are. However, what I'm talking about are the actions that stem from these feelings, which we as human beings with free will and sense (in theory) have control over.

So this weekend was my beau's roommate's birthday celebration weekend. (*Note to Self: Self, do not try to keep pace drinking with people who are under 25, 26, or even 27. You are not 25 anymore. You will wind up hurting and cursing every single microorganism responsible for the alcohol fermentation process. Please and thank you, Self....) Friday night we went out to First Fridays (the first one I've been to since, oh, 2005) and I ended up meeting some females whom my beau said had expressed some interest in him in the past. They were all nice and friendly toward me, but I know there was some questions about who I was to him. Saturday the three of us ended up heading out separately.... Beau and Roomie left earlier to try and catch the fight, and I met up with one of my friends at another spot, but we later all met up at our usual Saturday spot. I got there late-- around 1:45-- so they had already been there for a minute. My beau said that those same "friendly" chicks were coming up to him and in his face all night, asking where his "girlfriend" (i.e. me) was and flirting extra hard. Now, I'm not saying that he wouldn't have had chicks trying to flirt (because he is a nice piece of African American man candy), but the intensity was definitely turned up a few notches, and I would bet my pinkie toe that it was because they'd seen me with him the night before and decided that they were going to rise to the challenge. (Sorry ladies, I still win.)

Another example of this phenomenon occurred about 2 weeks ago..... a chick invited Beau to her firm holiday party, which he turned down because 1) I have several friends at said firm and 2) he was correct to assume I'd be shitty if he went. Now, this chick is allegedly "just a friend" and I don't doubt my beau's interpretation of their interactions, but I know the nefarious intentions of women and I know that you just don't invite any old damn body to your company's formal holiday party (the big firms get swanky with theirs) and I know that "just friends" status can do a 180 after 3 hours with an open bar. I actually took a female friend to my firm's formal dinner when I was separated just to avoid all the assumptions and speculation. Anyway, it could've been chalked up to an honest mistake, except for the fact that he asked her AFTER knowing he was seeing someone and AFTER he'd told her that he was spending Thanksgiving with me (and you don't just spend Thanksgiving with any old damn body, either). My piggies are still a little achy from that bit of toe stepping.

So how do I respond to these toe stepping bitches situations? Answer: I don't feel the need to directly address them. Less mature women may respond with confrontation and stare downs and a lot of eye/neck rolling, but I don't see the need for all that. I'm not a person who is going to rush to his side anytime I see him talking to a female, or go online and make sure EVERYONE knows we're dating (I call this "pissing on his page".... i.e. marking my "territory") or send friend requests to every chick that seems to be showing a modicum of interest in order to keep tabs. I feel like all I need to do is 1) handle my bid'ness and 2) make my presence and existence known so that there is no confusion, and the rest doesn't matter. For example, Saturday night I made sure I got up from my late night power nap and got myself out to where my beau was hanging out.... but there was no need to rush and post up by his side and mean mug women, I just made sure my face was in the place. I actually take it as a compliment that other women are interested.... that means I've got a good thing, because only good things are in high demand. But then that raises the question...... aren't I being the same way, then?? The flip side of the same coin? Hmmm.... I literally JUST thought about that. Wow.... interesting perspective, Self (I have a serious problem with debating myself and never getting anywhere with it).

Anywho, I'm not one to trip on other women showing interest in the guy I'm dating. Try and talk to him, dance with him in the club, buy him a drink.... that's fine (so long as folks don't get blatantly disrespectful about it.... that I DON'T tolerate). I'm plenty confident enough in who I am and what I have to offer, so I know where he's going home to later.

I've been Tagged!

So I normally reserve this sort of thing for Facebook and such, but Daughter just left for her weekend with The Ex and I'm really, really bored, so I'ma take one for the team and do this here. I was tagged by Ladebelle over at Rants of a Wild Child to come up with 7 random things about myself. Wanna hear it? Here it go:

THE RULES:

1. Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself.
3. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
4. Let each person know that they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Aaaaaand.... GO!

1. One of my favorite shows is "It's Me or the Dog"..... even though this bitch who belongs to my son who is never even here my dog is the bane of my existence.

2. I have over $1500 worth of ink on my body (damn, that's the first time I've added that up).

3. I'm secretly proud of my son's game, even though I hate the fact that he's not a member of the Opal Ring Crusade. *throws up in mouth a little* That's another blog post for another day.....

4. I've never been to Disney World. :(

5. My blogosphere alias (you didn't think that was my real name, did you??) is based on an alternative to my pet snake's name, Pandora, which is a nickname given to me by a dear friend of mine (I have a thing for Greek mythology.... my real name is from Greek mythology).

6. My favorite cereal as a child was Wheat Chex.

7. Even though I look forward to my free weekends (and time to myself to do whatever I want) when the kids are with The Ex, I always get depressed because I haven't quite learned how to just enjoy my own company..... I get lonely (thus, Emotional Baggage Sundays).

Fellow bloggers that I'm tagging: My Seventeen Cents, Black Femme Fatale, Only a 'lil Jaded, It's how I feel....you don't have to necessarily like it, [FUNG'KE] [BLAK] [CHIK], That Dude DJ Limelight, The Wheels on the Bus

(and even if they don't play along, read their blogs anyway.... good stuff)

"Been an awful good girl.... Santa Baby"

"Santa Baby, slip a sable under the tree, For me.
been an awful good girl, Santa baby,
so hurry down the chimney tonight...."

It is time, once again, for my 3rd (???) Annual Christmas Wish List of things I know good and damn well I'm not going to get but I'm a masochistic freak and keep doing this list every year anyway I want Santa to bring me for Christmas. I am by far not a materialistic girl..... I'm not all into designer ish, I don't equate dollar amounts with how much a person cares, and simple things make me happy. Hell, sometimes I wonder if I'm TOO low maintenance (though I'm sure guys will say there is no such thing, but I'm suspecting that this is a bunch of crap.... still working on my magnum opus of blog posts "Guys, you don't really want the cool chick"). They always say it's the thought that counts..... well, I realize I'm a little off the map at times, so for someone to ask their sister/cousin/auntie/co-worker what they think I would like is a pretty pointless exercise (a fact that The Ex was never quite able to figure out). So, just so nobody can ever say I never told them, I do this handy list every year for nobody in particular..... it's just something to do.

So, without further adieu, The List:

1. 0 gauge plugs, tunnels, and/or spirals for my ears (like these):










2. a Tibetian Singing Bowl:

















3. Bobbi Brown "Baby" perfume (which can only be found on eBay because it's discontinued, so you'd get MAJOR brownie points for that one).

4. (and if you can't find Baby, then.....) Versace "Bright Crystal" perfume.

5. Patterned, striped, or any interesting colored Hosiery (that means tights, socks, and garters).... preferably knee highs and above from For Love 21, Target, Nordstrom, Sockdreams.com, or anyone else who carries more than just boring black, white and nude sockery (yes, I just made that word up).

6. A Bettie Page t-shirt (or any other Bettie paraphernalia), perhaps something like this:



















7. Naptown Roller Girls roller derby ticket(s) (or preferably, just take me to a bout and buy me a beer).

8. Carol's Daughter products, especially Tui Hair Oil.

9. Tiffany silver jewelry (and no, it's not as expensive as you may think..... seriously).

10. Essential/perfume oils, including nag champa, lavender, peppermint, patchouli, and sandalwood (and if you're nice, carrier oils to go with them.... jojoba, safflower, and/or coconut).

11. Earrings, necklaces and scarves from For Love 21.

12. Anything from Pier 1. I love Pier 1. Especially anything Buddhist-inspired.

13. a mini disco ball (with the multi-colored light kit).

Now here's where I get stupid with the list......

14. a plane ticket to London to visit my BFF (this had been on the list for several years now).

15. a Blackberry Bold (yea, I'm stuck with AT&T for awhile now, so no Storm for me).

16. a vacation..... anywhere. I don't even care where. Just anywhere but here.

17. a laptop.... preferably an iMac, but any laptop would be greatly appreciated.

18. an iPod Touch.

19. a JOB Oops, I already got that!! I meet with them Friday to discuss "details". *happy dance*

And if I don't get any of this stuff, I'll just chalk it up to the fact that I was kind of naughty this year.... I think I broke a few hearts, disappointed some folks, and verbally abused the dog a little too much. It's ok.... there's always next year (though I can't promise that I'll be any less naughty).

Thanksgiving Recap: Little Sister to the Rescue

Thanksgiving.... probably my favorite holiday. It's a time to get together with friends and loved ones (which are one in the same for me) without all the commercialized BS and stress of Christmas. Plus I LOVE holiday food.... I may cook each dish individually throughout the year, but the combination of them all on one plate just makes me squirm with delight happy.

This year wasn't looking to be so great, though. Mom has been in the hospital, my siblings are scattered all around the country and my sisters had spent money to come visit mom in the hospital 2 weeks before the holiday, I am broke as a joke, and was sick as I don't know what. My beau was also stuck in town and couldn't go home to visit his family. And we both had our kids for the holiday this year. Plus this was the first year actually being DIVORCED. However, I REFUSED to take all this lying down and instead sprung into action to salvage what I could of the holiday.... yes, little sister stepped up and made an ENTIRE THANKSGIVING DINNER in 1 afternoon. I got up around 11am (I'd been out the night before.... good times, good times) went to the grocery store and then came home and got to work.

Here's what my menu consisted of:

Roast turkey breast and gravy
Spiral sliced ham (with brown sugar, orange and red wine glaze)
Collard greens (mixed with a bit of mustards and okra, made with turkey bacon)
Dressing (with turkey sausage)
Candied sweet potatoes (a family speciality)
Macaroni and cheese (with turkey bacon)
Cranberry sauce & mandarin oranges
And of course, my famous sweet potato pie (famous in my family anyway.... grandma gave me the recipe but always asks for mine)

By a stroke of luck/divine intervention/my mother's vehement insistence, my mother was able to come home Thanskgiving evening. I was soooo happy I had a meal for my parents to come home to, AND a meal she could actually eat. I didn't use pork in anything (well, except for the ham, but the ham was for my son at his insistence)..... turkey everything. I even made the sweet potato pies with Splenda (though not the candied sweet potatoes, because the sauce doesn't thicken up right without real sugar).

This was the first holiday meal I'd made entirely on my own and I was SO nervous that I was going to mess something up (ok, so I did burn a few pieces of sweet potato). But everyone was very pleased, and that made me very pleased, despite the fact that I was thoroughly exhausted by the end of the night and woke up feeling like microwaved death. I was a little irked because my sister had told me she was coming for Thanksgiving, but then called at 4pm to say she was coming Friday when I'd already made enough food for all fo them too........ *pause* But we ate up their share anyway (sorry fo ya, big sis).

It wasn't anything fancy or formal.... just me, the kids, Beau and his son sitting around wherever we could find a seat at my parents', eating on paper plates with plastic utensils. My parents didn't even eat with us because Dad was helping Mom get situated upstairs. Yea, we're not very formal, but we made it work. And I really must give myself a pat on the back for this one.... I stepped up and saved the day.